diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:34:22 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:34:22 -0700 |
| commit | a6a8b13d52aebc8fc3345d35f96ac830e1eecc61 (patch) | |
| tree | 66d14a084cc911bcba313ca39ba33f4cb184ea46 /27268-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '27268-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/27268-h.htm | 7782 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image036.png | bin | 0 -> 41701 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image040a.png | bin | 0 -> 2624 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image040b.png | bin | 0 -> 2609 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image040c.png | bin | 0 -> 3323 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image053.png | bin | 0 -> 2179 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image058.png | bin | 0 -> 24162 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image061.png | bin | 0 -> 26591 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image068.png | bin | 0 -> 1441 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image071.png | bin | 0 -> 13788 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image079.png | bin | 0 -> 34584 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image091.png | bin | 0 -> 54702 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image098.png | bin | 0 -> 20134 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image113.png | bin | 0 -> 3944 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image115.png | bin | 0 -> 17017 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image120.png | bin | 0 -> 11931 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image130.png | bin | 0 -> 25050 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image134.png | bin | 0 -> 26311 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image161.png | bin | 0 -> 18307 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image164.png | bin | 0 -> 94966 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image167.png | bin | 0 -> 18461 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image172.png | bin | 0 -> 15531 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image184.png | bin | 0 -> 18274 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27268-h/images/image199.png | bin | 0 -> 24150 bytes |
24 files changed, 7782 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/27268-h/27268-h.htm b/27268-h/27268-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d6790c --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/27268-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7782 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ariadne Florentina, by John Ruskin. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:50%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em -8em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .gap6 {margin-top:6em;} + .gap3 {margin-top:3em;} + .gap1 {margin-top:1em;} + .smaller {font-size:0.8em;} + .larger {font-size:1.2em;} + .ralign {text-align:right;} + .lfloat {text-align:left; float:left;} + .rfloat {text-align:right; float:right;} + .hangindent {margin-left: 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + .tocdetail {text-align:left; width:80%; padding-left:2em; margin-left: 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + .tocpage {text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom;} + .tocappnum {text-align:right; width:5%; vertical-align:top;} + .tocappmain {text-align:left; width:75%; padding-left:3em; margin-left: 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ariadne Florentina, by John Ruskin + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ariadne Florentina + Six Lectures on Wood and Metal Engraving + +Author: John Ruskin + +Release Date: November 15, 2008 [EBook #27268] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARIADNE FLORENTINA *** + + + + +Produced by Brownfox, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<p class="center"><i>Library Edition</i></p> + +<p class="center larger">THE COMPLETE WORKS</p> + +<p class="center">OF</p> + +<h1>JOHN RUSKIN</h1> + + +<p class="center gap6">THE EAGLE'S NEST</p> +<p class="center">LOVE'S MEINIE</p> +<p class="center">ARIADNE FLORENTINA</p> +<p class="center">VAL D'ARNO</p> +<p class="center">PROSERPINA</p> + + +<p class="center gap6">NATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION</p> +<p style="margin-left:30%;" class="lfloat">NEW YORK</p> +<p style="margin-right:30%;" class="rfloat">CHICAGO</p> + + + + +<h1 class="gap3" style="clear:both;">ARIADNE FLORENTINA.</h1> + + +<p class="center">SIX LECTURES</p> + +<p class="center smaller">ON</p> + +<h2>WOOD AND METAL ENGRAVING</h2> + +<p class="center">WITH APPENDIX.</p> + +<p class="center smaller">GIVEN BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD,</p> + +<p class="center smaller">IN MICHAELMAS TERM, 1872. +</p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3">CONTENTS.</h2> + +<p class="gap1 center larger">LECTURE I.</p> + +<p class="ralign smaller" style="margin-bottom:0em; margin-right:10%;">PAGE</p> + +<table summary="TOC Lecture I" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail">DEFINITION OF THE ART OF ENGRAVING</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#LECTURE_I">1</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="gap1 center larger">LECTURE II.</p> + +<table summary="TOC Lecture II" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail">THE RELATION OF ENGRAVING TO OTHER ARTS IN FLORENCE</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#LECTURE_II">22</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="gap1 center larger">LECTURE III.</p> + +<table summary="TOC Lecture III" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail">THE TECHNICS OF WOOD ENGRAVING</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#LECTURE_III">42</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="gap1 center larger">LECTURE IV.</p> + +<table summary="TOC Lecture IV" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail">THE TECHNICS OF METAL ENGRAVING</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#LECTURE_IV">61</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="gap1 center larger">LECTURE V.</p> + +<table summary="TOC Lecture V" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail">DESIGN IN THE GERMAN SCHOOLS OF ENGRAVING (HOLBEIN AND DÜRER)</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#LECTURE_V">81</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="gap1 center larger">LECTURE VI.</p> + +<table summary="TOC Lecture VI" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail">DESIGN IN THE FLORENTINE SCHOOLS OF ENGRAVING (SANDRO BOTTICELLI)</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#LECTURE_VI">108</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<h3 class="gap1">APPENDIX.</h3> + +<table summary="TOC Appendix" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="smaller" colspan="3">ARTICLE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">I.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">NOTES ON THE PRESENT STATE OF ENGRAVING IN ENGLAND</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#NOTES_I">143</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">II.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">DETACHED NOTES</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#NOTES_II">157</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<h2 class="gap3">LIST OF PLATES</h2> + +<p class="ralign smaller" style="margin-bottom:0em; margin-right:10%;">Facing Page</p> +<table summary="List of Plates" style="width:80%;"> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail" colspan="2">Diagram</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#DIAGRAM">27</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail" colspan="2">The Last Furrow (Fig. 2). Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_2">47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocdetail" colspan="2">The Two Preachers (Fig. 3). Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_3">48</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">I.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">Things Celestial and Terrestrial, as apparent to the English mind</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_I">56</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">II.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">Star of Florence</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_II">62</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">III.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">"At evening from the top of Fésole"</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_III">72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">IV.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">"By the Springs of Parnassus"</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_IV">77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">V.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">"Heat considered as a Mode of Motion." Florentine Natural Philosophy</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_V">92</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">VI.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">Fairness of the Sea and Air. In Venice and Athens</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_VI">95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum"> </td> +<td class="tocappmain">The Child's Bedtime (Fig. 5). Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_5">103</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum"> </td> +<td class="tocappmain">"He that hath ears to hear let him hear" (Fig. 6). Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_6">105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">VII.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">For a time, and times</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_VII">130</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">VIII.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">The Nymph beloved of Apollo (Michael Angelo)</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_VIII">131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">IX.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">In the Woods of Ida</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_IX">132</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">X.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">Grass of the Desert</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_X">135</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">XI.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">"Obediente Domino voci hominis"</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_XI">145</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocappnum">XII.</td> +<td class="tocappmain">The Coronation in the Garden</td> +<td class="tocpage"><a href="#Plate_XII">158</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + +<h2 class="gap6">ARIADNE FLORENTINA.</h2> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="LECTURE_I" id="LECTURE_I"></a>LECTURE I.</h2> + +<h3>DEFINITION OF THE ART OF ENGRAVING.</h3> + + +<p>1. The entrance on my duty for to-day begins the fourth +year of my official work in Oxford; and I doubt not that +some of my audience are asking themselves, very doubtfully—at +all events, I ask myself, very anxiously—what has been +done.</p> + +<p>For practical result, I have not much to show. I announced, +a fortnight since, that I would meet, the day before +yesterday, any gentleman who wished to attend this course +for purposes of study. My class, so minded, numbers four, +of whom three wish to be artists, and ought not therefore, by +rights, to be at Oxford at all; and the fourth is the last +remaining unit of the class I had last year.</p> + +<p>2. Yet I neither in this reproach myself, nor, if I could, +would I reproach the students who are not here. I do not +reproach myself; for it was impossible for me to attend +properly to the schools and to write the grammar for them +at the same time; and I do not blame the absent students +for not attending a school from which I have generally been +absent myself. In all this, there is much to be mended, but, +in true light, nothing to be regretted.</p> + +<p>I say, I had to write my school grammar. These three +volumes of lectures under my hand,<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> contain, carefully set +down, the things I want you first to know. None of my +writings are done fluently; the second volume of "Modern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +Painters" was all of it written twice—most of it, four times,—over; +and these lectures have been written, I don't know +how many times. You may think that this was done merely +in an author's vanity, not in a tutor's care. To the vanity +I plead guilty,—no man is more intensely vain than I am; +but my vanity is set on having it <i>known</i> of me that I am +a good master, not in having it <i>said</i> of me that I am a smooth +author. My vanity is never more wounded than in being +called a fine writer, meaning—that nobody need mind what +I say.</p> + +<p>3. Well, then, besides this vanity, I have some solicitude +for your progress. You may give me credit for it or not, as +you choose, but it is sincere. And that your advance may +be safe, I have taken the best pains I could in laying down +laws for it. In these three years I have got my grammar +written, and, with the help of many friends, all working +instruments in good order; and now we will try what we can +do. Not that, even now, you are to depend on my presence +with you in personal teaching. I shall henceforward think +of the lectures less, of the schools more; but my best work for +the schools will often be by drawing in Florence or in Lancashire—not +here.</p> + +<p>4. I have already told you several times that the course +through which I mean every student in these schools should +pass, is one which shall enable them to understand the +elementary principles of the finest art. It will necessarily +be severe, and seem to lead to no immediate result. Some of +you will, on the contrary, wish to be taught what is immediately +easy, and gives prospect of a manifest success.</p> + +<p>But suppose they should come to the Professor of Logic +and Rhetoric, and tell him they want to be taught to preach +like Mr. Spurgeon, or the Bishop of ——.</p> + +<p>He would say to them,—I cannot, and if I could I would +not, tell you how to preach like Mr. Spurgeon, or the Bishop +of ——. Your own character will form your style; your +own zeal will direct it; your own obstinacy or ignorance may +limit or exaggerate it; but my business is to prevent, as far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +as I can, your having <i>any</i> particular style; and to teach you +the laws of all language, and the essential power of your own.</p> + +<p>In like manner, this course, which I propose to you in art, +will be calculated only to give you judgment and method in +future study, to establish to your conviction the laws of +general art, and to enable you to draw, if not with genius, at +least with sense and propriety.</p> + +<p>The course, so far as it consists in practice, will be defined +in my Instructions for the schools. And the theory connected +with that practice is set down in the three lectures at the end +of the first course I delivered—those on Line, Light, and +Color.</p> + +<p>You will have, therefore, to get this book,<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> and it is the +only one which you will need to have of your own,—the +others are placed, for reference, where they will be accessible +to you.</p> + +<p>5. In the 139th paragraph it states the order of your practical +study in these terms:—</p> + +<p>"I wish you to begin by getting command of line;—that +is to say, by learning to draw a steady line, limiting with +absolute correctness the form or space you intend it to limit; +to proceed by getting command over flat tints, so that you may +be able to fill the spaces you have inclosed evenly, either with +shade or color, according to the school you adopt; and, finally, +to obtain the power of adding such fineness of drawing, within +the masses, as shall express their undulation, and their characters +of form and texture."</p> + +<p>And now, since in your course of practice you are first +required to attain the power of drawing lines accurately and +delicately, so in the course of theory, or grammar, I wish you +first to learn the principles of linear design, exemplified by +the schools which (§ 137) you will find characterized as the +Schools of Line.</p> + +<p>6. If I had command of as much time as I should like to +spend with you on this subject, I would begin with the early<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +forms of art which used the simplest linear elements of design. +But, for general service and interest, it will be better that I +should sketch what has been accomplished by the greatest +masters in that manner; the rather that their work is more +or less accessible to all, and has developed into the vast industries +of modern engraving, one of the most powerful existing +influences of education and sources of pleasure among civilized +people.</p> + +<p>And this investigation, so far from interrupting, will +facilitate our examination of the history of the nobler arts. +You will see in the preface to my lectures on Greek sculpture +that I intend them to be followed by a course on architecture, +and that by one on Florentine sculpture. But the art of +engraving is so manifestly, at Florence, though not less +essentially elsewhere, a basis of style both in architecture and +sculpture, that it is absolutely necessary I should explain to +you in what the skill of the engraver consists, before I can +define with accuracy that of more admired artists. For +engraving, though not altogether in the method of which you +see examples in the print-shops of the High Street, is, indeed, +a prior art to that either of building or sculpture, and is an +inseparable part of both, when they are rightly practiced.</p> + +<p>7. And while we thus examine the scope of this first of +the arts, it will be necessary that we learn also the scope of +mind of the early practicers of it, and accordingly acquaint +ourselves with the main events in the biography of the schools +of Florence. To understand the temper and meaning of one +great master is to lay the best, if not the only, foundation for +the understanding of all; and I shall therefore make it the +leading aim of this course of lectures to remind you of what +is known, and direct you to what is knowable, of the life and +character of the greatest Florentine master of engraving, +Sandro Botticelli; and, incidentally, to give you some idea +of the power of the greatest master of the German, or any +northern, school, Hans Holbein.</p> + +<p>8. You must feel, however, that I am using the word +"engraving" in a somewhat different, and, you may imagine,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +a wider, sense, than that which you are accustomed to attach +to it. So far from being a wider sense, it is in reality a more +accurate and restricted one, while yet it embraces every conceivable +right application of the art. And I wish, in this +first lecture, to make entirely clear to you the proper meaning +of the word, and proper range of the art of, engraving; in +my next following lecture, to show you its place in Italian +schools, and then, in due order, the place it ought to take in +our own, and in all schools.</p> + +<p>9. First then, to-day, of the Differentia, or essential quality +of Engraving, as distinguished from other arts.</p> + +<p>What answer would you make to me, if I asked casually +what engraving was? Perhaps the readiest which would +occur to you would be, "The translation of pictures into black +and white by means admitting reduplication of impressions." +But if that be done by lithography, we do not call it engraving,—whereas +we speak contentedly and continually of seal +engraving, in which there is no question of black and white. +And, as scholars, you know that this customary mode of +speaking is quite accurate; and that engraving means, primarily, +making a permanent cut or furrow in something. +The central syllable of the word has become a sorrowful one, +meaning the most permanent of furrows.</p> + +<p>10. But are you prepared absolutely to accept this limitation +with respect to engraving as a pictorial art? Will you +call nothing an engraving, except a group of furrows or cavities +cut in a hard substance? What shall we say of mezzotint +engraving, for instance, in which, though indeed furrows and +cavities are produced mechanically as a ground, the artist's +work is in effacing them? And when we consider the power +of engraving in representing pictures and multiplying them, +are we to recognize and admire no effects of light and shade +except those which are visibly produced by dots or furrows? +I mean, will the virtue of an engraving be in exhibiting these +imperfect means of its effect, or in concealing them?</p> + +<p>11. Here, for instance, is the head of a soldier by Dürer,—a +mere gridiron of black lines. Would this be better or worse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +engraving if it were more like a photograph or lithograph, +and no lines seen?—suppose, more like the head of Mr. Santley, +now in all the music-shops, and really quite deceptive in +light and shade, when seen from over the way? Do you think +Dürer's work would be better if it were more like that? And +would you have me, therefore, leaving the question of technical +method of production altogether to the craftsman, consider +pictorial engraving simply as the production of a light-and-shade +drawing, by some method permitting its multiplication +for the public?</p> + +<p>12. This, you observe, is a very practical question indeed. +For instance, the illustrations of my own lectures on sculpture +are equivalent to permanent photographs. There can +be little doubt that means will be discovered of thus producing +perfect facsimiles of artists' drawings; so that, if no more +than facsimile be required, the old art of cutting furrows in +metal may be considered as, at this day, virtually ended. +And, indeed, it is said that line engravers cannot any more +get apprentices, and that a pure steel or copper plate is not +likely to be again produced, when once the old living masters +of the bright field shall have been all laid in their earth-furrows.</p> + +<p>13. Suppose, then, that this come to pass; and more than +this, suppose that wood engraving also be superseded, and +that instead of imperfect transcripts of drawings, on wood-blocks +or metal-plates, photography enabled us to give, quite +cheaply, and without limit to number, facsimiles of the finished +light-and-shade drawings of artists themselves. Another +group of questions instantly offers itself, on these new conditions; +namely, What are the best means for a light-and-shade +drawing—the pen, or the pencil, the charcoal, or the +flat wash? That is to say, the pen, producing shade by black +lines, as old engraving did; the pencil, producing shade by +gray lines, variable in force; the charcoal, producing a +smoky shadow with no lines in it, or the washed tint, producing +a transparent shadow with no lines in it. Which of these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +methods is the best?—or have they, each and all, virtues to +be separately studied, and distinctively applied?</p> + +<p>14. See how curiously the questions multiply on us. 1st, +Is engraving to be only considered as cut work? 2d, For +present designs multipliable without cutting, by the sunshine, +what methods or instruments of drawing will be best? And +now, 3dly, before we can discuss these questions at all, is +there not another lying at the root of both,—namely, what +a light-and-shade drawing itself properly <i>is</i>, and how it +differs, or should differ, from a painting, whether by mere +deficiency, or by some entirely distinct merit?</p> + +<p>15. For instance, you know how confidently it is said, in +common talk about Turner, that his works are intelligible +and beautiful when engraved, though incomprehensible as +paintings. Admitting this to be so, do you suppose it is +because the translation into light and shade is deficient in +some qualities which the painting had, or that it possesses +some quality which the painting had not? Does it please +more because it is deficient in the color which confused a +feeble spectator, and offended a dogmatic one,—or because it +possesses a decision in its steady linear labor which interprets, +or corrects, the swift penciling of the artist?</p> + +<p>16. Do you notice the two words I have just used, <i>Decision</i>, +and <i>Linear</i>?—Decision, again introducing the idea of cuts +or divisions, as opposed to gradations; Linear, as opposed to +massive or broad?</p> + +<p>Yet we use all these words at different times in praise, +while they evidently mark inconsistent qualities. Softness +and decision, breadth and delineation, cannot co-exist in +equal degrees. There must surely therefore be a virtue in +the engraving inconsistent with that of the painting, and +vice versâ.</p> + +<p>Now, be clear about these three questions which we have +to-day to answer.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A. Is all engraving to be cut work?</p> + +<p>B. If it need not be cut work, but only the reproduction +of a drawing, what methods of executing a light-and-shade +drawing will be best?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>C. Is the shaded drawing itself to be considered only as +a deficient or imperfect painting, or as a different +thing from a painting, having a virtue of its own, +belonging to black and white, as opposed to color?</p></div> + +<p>17. I will give you the answers at once, briefly, and amplify +them afterwards.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A. All engraving must be cut work;—<i>that</i> is its differentia. +Unless your effect be produced by cutting into some +solid substance, it is not engraving at all.</p> + +<p>B. The proper methods for light-and-shade drawing vary +according to subject, and the degree of completeness +desired,—some of them having much in common with +engraving, and others with painting.</p> + +<p>C. The qualities of a light-and-shade drawing ought to +be entirely different from those of a painting. It is +not a deficient or partial representation of a colored +scene or picture, but an entirely different reading of +either. So that much of what is intelligible in a +painting ought to be unintelligible in a light-and-shade +study, and <i>vice versâ</i>.</p></div> + +<p>You have thus three arts,—engraving, light-and-shade +drawing, and painting.</p> + +<p>Now I am not going to lecture, in this course, on painting, +nor on light-and-shade drawing, but on engraving only. But +I must tell you something about light-and-shade drawing +first; or, at least, remind you of what I have before told.</p> + +<p>18. You see that the three elementary lectures in my first +volume are on Line, Light, and Color,—that is to say, on +the modes of art which produce linear designs,—which produce +effects of light,—and which produce effects of color.</p> + +<p>I must, for the sake of new students, briefly repeat the +explanation of these.</p> + +<p>Here is an Arabian vase, in which the pleasure given to +the eye is only by lines;—no effect of light, or of color, is +attempted. Here is a moonlight by Turner, in which there +are no lines at all, and no colors at all. The pleasure given +to the eye is only by modes of light and shade, or effects of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +light. Finally, here is an early Florentine painting, in +which there are no lines of importance, and no effect of light +whatever; but all the pleasure given to the eye is in gayety +and variety of color.</p> + +<p>19. I say, the pleasure given to the <i>eye</i>. The lines on +this vase write something; but the ornamentation produced +by the beautiful writing is independent of its meaning. So +the moonlight is pleasant, first, as light; and the figures, +first, as color. It is not the shape of the waves, but the light +on them; not the expression of the figures, but their color, by +which the <i>ocular</i> pleasure is to be given.</p> + +<p>These three examples are violently marked ones; but, in +preparing to draw <i>any</i> object, you will find that, practically, +you have to ask yourself, Shall I aim at the color of it, the +light of it, or the lines of it? You can't have all three; you +can't even have any two out of the three in equal strength. +The best art, indeed, comes so near nature as in a measure to +unite all. But the best is not, and cannot be, as good as +nature; and the mode of its deficiency is that it must lose +some of the color, some of the light, or some of the delineation. +And in consequence, there is one great school which +says, We will have the color, and as much light and delineation +as are consistent with it. Another which says, We will +have shade, and as much color and delineation as are consistent +with it. The third, We will have delineation, and +as much color and shade as are consistent with it.</p> + +<p>20. And though much of the two subordinate qualities may +in each school be consistent with the leading one, yet the +schools are evermore separate: as, for instance, in other matters, +one man says, I will have my fee, and as much honesty +as is consistent with it; another, I will have my honesty, +and as much fee as is consistent with it. Though the man +who will have his fee be subordinately honest,—though the +man who will have his honor, subordinately rich, are they +not evermore of diverse schools?</p> + +<p>So you have, in art, the utterly separate provinces, though +in contact at their borders, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p style="margin-left:30%; margin-bottom:0em;">The Delineators;</p> +<p style="margin-left:30%; margin-bottom:0em; margin-top:0em;">The Chiaroscurists; and</p> +<p style="margin-left:30%; margin-top:0em;">The Colorists.</p> + +<p>21. The Delineators are the men on whom I am going +to give you this course of lectures. They are essentially +engravers, an engraved line being the best means of delineation. +The Chiaroscurists are essentially draughtsmen with +chalk, charcoal, or single tints. Many of them paint, but +always with some effort and pain. Lionardo is the type of +them; but the entire Dutch school consists of them, laboriously +painting, without essential genius for color.</p> + +<p>The Colorists are the true painters; and all the faultless +(as far, that is to say, as men's work can be so,) and consummate +masters of art belong to them.</p> + +<p>22. The distinction between the colorist and chiaroscurist +school is trenchant and absolute: and may soon be shown you +so that you will never forget it. Here is a Florentine picture +by one of the pupils of Giotto, of very good representative +quality, and which the University galleries are rich in possessing. +At the distance at which I hold it, you see nothing but +a checker-work of brilliant, and, as it happens, even glaring +colors. If you come near, you will find this patchwork +resolve itself into a Visitation, and Birth of St. John; but +that St. Elizabeth's red dress, and the Virgin's blue and +white one, and the brown posts of the door, and the blue +spaces of the sky, are painted in their own entirely pure +colors, each shaded with more powerful tints of itself,—pale +blue with deep blue, scarlet with crimson, yellow with orange, +and green with richer green.</p> + +<p>The whole is therefore as much a mosaic work of brilliant +color as if it were made of bits of glass. There is no effect +of light attempted, or so much as thought of: you don't know +even where the sun is: nor have you the least notion what +time of day it is. The painter thinks you cannot be so superfluous +as to want to know what time of day it is.</p> + +<p>23. Here, on the other hand, is a Dutch picture of good +average quality, also out of the University galleries. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +represents a group of cattle, and a herdsman watching them. +And you see in an instant that the time is evening. The sun +is setting, and there is warm light on the landscape, the +cattle, and the standing figure.</p> + +<p>Nor does the picture in any conspicuous way seem devoid +of color. On the contrary, the herdsman has a scarlet jacket, +which comes out rather brilliantly from the mass of shade +round it; and a person devoid of color faculty, or ill taught, +might imagine the picture to be really a fine work of color.</p> + +<p>But if you will come up close to it, you will find that the +herdsman has brown sleeves, though he has a scarlet jacket; +and that the shadows of both are painted with precisely the +same brown, and in several places with continuous touches +of the pencil. It is only in the light that the scarlet is +laid on.</p> + +<p>This at once marks the picture as belonging to the lower +or chiaroscurist school, even if you had not before recognized +it as such by its pretty rendering of sunset effect.</p> + +<p>24. You might at first think it a painting which showed +greater skill than that of the school of Giotto. But the skill +is not the primary question. The power of imagination is +the first thing to be asked about. This Italian work imagines, +and requires you to imagine also, a St. Elizabeth and St. +Mary, to the best of your power. But this Dutch one only +wishes you to imagine an effect of sunlight on cow-skin, +which is a far lower strain of the imaginative faculty.</p> + +<p>Also, as you may see the effect of sunlight on cow-skin, +in reality, any summer afternoon, but cannot so frequently +see a St. Elizabeth, it is a far less useful strain of the imaginative +faculty.</p> + +<p>And, generally speaking, the Dutch chiaroscurists are +indeed persons without imagination at all,—who, not being +able to get any pleasure out of their thoughts, try to get it +out of their sensations; note, however, also their technical +connection with the Greek school of shade, (see my sixth +inaugural lecture, § 158,) in which color was refused, not +for the sake of deception, but of solemnity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>25. With these final motives you are not now concerned; +your present business is the quite easy one of knowing, and +noticing, the universal distinction between the methods of +treatment in which the aim is light, and in which it is color; +and so to keep yourselves guarded from the danger of being +misled by the, often very ingenious, talk of persons who have +vivid color sensations without having learned to distinguish +them from what else pleases them in pictures. There is +an interesting volume by Professor Taine on the Dutch +school, containing a valuable historical analysis of the influences +which formed it; but full of the gravest errors, resulting +from the confusion in his mind between color and tone, +in consequence of which he imagines the Dutch painters to +be colorists.</p> + +<p>26. It is so important for you to be grounded securely in +these first elements of pictorial treatment, that I will be so +far tedious as to show you one more instance of the relative +intellectual value of the pure color and pure chiaroscuro +school, not in Dutch and Florentine, but in English art. +Here is a copy of one of the lost frescoes of our Painted +Chamber of Westminster;—fourteenth-century work, entirely +conceived in color, and calculated for decorative effect. +There is no more light and shade in it than in a Queen of +Hearts in a pack of cards;—all that the painter at first wants +you to see is that the young lady has a white forehead, and +a golden crown, and a fair neck, and a violet robe, and a +crimson shield with golden leopards on it; and that behind +her is clear blue sky. Then, farther, he wants you to read +her name, "Debonnairete," which, when you have read, +he farther expects you to consider what it is to be debonnaire, +and to remember your Chaucer's description of the virtue:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She was not brown, nor dun of hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But white as snowe, fallen new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With eyen glad, and browes bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hair down to her heeles went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she was simple, as dove on tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full debonnair of heart was she.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>27. You see Chaucer dwells on the color just as much as +the painter does, but the painter has also given her the +English shield to bear, meaning that good-humor, or debonnairete, +cannot be maintained by self-indulgence;—only by +fortitude. Farther note, with Chaucer, the "eyen glad," and +brows "bent" (high-arched and calm), the strong life, (hair +down to the heels,) and that her gladness is to be without +subtlety,—that is to say, without the slightest pleasure in any +form of advantage-taking, or any shrewd or mocking wit: +"she was simple as dove on tree;" and you will find that +the color-painting, both in the fresco and in the poem, is in +the very highest degree didactic and intellectual; and distinguished, +as being so, from all inferior forms of art. +Farther, that it requires you yourself first to understand the +nature of simplicity, and to like simplicity in young ladies +better than subtlety; and to understand why the second of +Love's five kind arrows (Beauté being the first)—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Simplece ot nom, la seconde<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qui maint homme parmi le monde<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et mainte dame fait amer.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Nor must you leave the picture without observing that there +is another reason for Debonnairete's bearing the Royal shield,—of +all shields that, rather than another. "De-bonne-aire" +meant originally "out of a good eagle's nest," the "aire" +signifying the eagle's nest or eyrie especially, because it is +flat, the Latin "area" being the root of all.</p> + +<p>And this coming out of a good nest is recognized as, of all +things, needfulest to give the strength which enables people +to be good-humored; and thus you have "debonnaire" forming +the third word of the group, with "gentle" and "kind," +all first signifying "of good race."</p> + +<p>You will gradually see, as we go on, more and more why +I called my third volume of lectures Eagle's Nest; for I am +not fantastic in these titles, as is often said; but try shortly +to mark my chief purpose in the book by them.</p> + +<p>28. Now for comparison with this old art, here is a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +modern engraving, in which color is entirely ignored; and +light and shade alone are used to produce what is supposed +to be a piece of impressive religious instruction. But it is +not a piece of religious instruction at all;—only a piece of +religious sensation, prepared for the sentimental pleasure of +young ladies; whom (since I am honored to-day by the +presence of many) I will take the opportunity of warning +against such forms of false theological satisfaction. This +engraving represents a young lady in a very long and, though +plain, very becoming white dress, tossed upon the waves of +a terrifically stormy sea, by which neither her hair nor her +becoming dress is in the least wetted; and saved from despair +in that situation by closely embracing a very thick and solid +stone Cross. By which far-sought and original metaphor +young ladies are expected, after some effort, to understand the +recourse they may have, for support, to the Cross of Christ, +in the midst of the troubles of this world.</p> + +<p>29. As those troubles are for the present, in all probability, +limited to the occasional loss of their thimbles when they +have not taken care to put them into their work-boxes,—the +concern they feel at the unsympathizing gayety of their companions,—or +perhaps the disappointment at not hearing a +favorite clergyman preach,—(for I will not suppose the +young ladies interested in this picture to be affected by any +chagrin at the loss of an invitation to a ball, or the like worldliness,)—it +seems to me the stress of such calamities might +be represented, in a picture, by less appalling imagery. And +I can assure my fair little lady friends,—if I still have any,—that +whatever a young girl's ordinary troubles or annoyances +may be, her true virtue is in shaking them off, as a rose-leaf +shakes off rain, and remaining debonnaire and bright in +spirits, or even, as the rose would be, the brighter for the +troubles; and not at all in allowing herself to be either drifted +or depressed to the point of requiring religious consolation. +But if any real and deep sorrow, such as no metaphor can +represent, fall upon her, does she suppose that the theological +advice of this piece of modern art can be trusted? If she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +will take the pains to think truly, she will remember that +Christ Himself never says anything about holding by His +Cross. He speaks a good deal of bearing it; but never for +an instant of holding by it. It is His Hand, not His Cross, +which is to save either you, or St. Peter, when the waves are +rough. And the utterly reckless way in which modern religious +teachers, whether in art or literature, abuse the metaphor +somewhat briefly and violently leant on by St. Paul, simply +prevents your understanding the meaning of any word which +Christ Himself speaks on this matter! So you see this popular +art of light and shade, catching you by your mere thirst +of sensation, is not only undidactic, but the reverse of didactic—deceptive +and illusory.</p> + +<p>30. This <i>popular</i> art, you hear me say, scornfully; and I +have told you, in some of my teaching in "Aratra Pentelici," +that all great art must be popular. Yes, but great art is +popular, as bread and water are to children fed by a father. +And vile art is popular, as poisonous jelly is, to children +cheated by a confectioner. And it is quite possible to make +any kind of art popular on those last terms. The color school +may become just as poisonous as the colorless, in the hands +of fools, or of rogues. Here is a book I bought only the other +day,—one of the things got up cheap to catch the eyes of +mothers at bookstalls,—Puss in Boots, illustrated; a most +definite work of the color school—red jackets and white paws +and yellow coaches as distinct as Giotto or Raphael would +have kept them. But the thing is done by fools for money, +and becomes entirely monstrous and abominable. Here, +again, is color art produced by fools for religion: here is +Indian sacred painting,—a black god with a hundred arms, +with a green god on one side of him and a red god on the +other; still a most definite work of the color school. Giotto +or Raphael could not have made the black more resolutely +black, (though the whole color of the school of Athens is +kept in distinct separation from one black square in it), nor +the green more unquestionably green. Yet the whole is +pestilent and loathsome.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>31. Now but one point more, and I have done with this +subject for to-day.</p> + +<p>You must not think that this manifest brilliancy and +Harlequin's-jacket character is essential in the color school. +The essential matter is only that everything should be of +<i>its own</i> definite color: it may be altogether sober and dark, +yet the distinctness of hue preserved with entire fidelity. +Here, for instance, is a picture of Hogarth's,—one of quite +the most precious things we have in our galleries. It represents +a meeting of some learned society—gentlemen of the +last century, very gravely dressed, but who, nevertheless, as +gentlemen pleasantly did in that day,—you remember Goldsmith's +weakness on the point—wear coats of tints of dark +red, blue, or violet. There are some thirty gentlemen in the +room, and perhaps seven or eight different tints of subdued +claret-color in their coats; and yet every coat is kept so +distinctly of its own proper claret-color, that each gentleman's +servant would know his master's.</p> + +<p>Yet the whole canvas is so gray and quiet, that as I now +hold it by this Dutch landscape, with the vermilion jacket, +you would fancy Hogarth's had no color in it at all, and that +the Dutchman was half-way to becoming a Titian; whereas +Hogarth's is a consummate piece of the most perfect colorist +school, which Titian could not beat, in its way; and the +Dutchman could no more paint half an inch of it than he +could summon a rainbow into the clouds.</p> + +<p>32. Here then, you see, are, altogether, five works, all of +the absolutely pure color school:—</p> + +<ol> +<li>One, Indian,—Religious Art;</li> +<li>One, Florentine,—Religious Art;</li> +<li>One, English,—from Painted Chamber, Westminster,—Ethic Art;</li> +<li>One, English,—Hogarth,—Naturalistic Art;</li> +<li>One, English,—to-day sold in the High Street,—Caricaturist Art.</li> +</ol> + +<p>And of these, the Florentine and old English are divine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +work, God-inspired; full, indeed, of faults and innocencies, +but divine, as good children are.</p> + +<p>Then this by Hogarth is entirely wise and right; but +worldly-wise, not divine.</p> + +<p>While the old Indian, and this, with which we feed our +children at this hour, are entirely damnable art;—every bit +of it done by the direct inspiration of the devil,—feeble, +ridiculous,—yet mortally poisonous to every noble quality +in body and soul.</p> + +<p>33. I have now, I hope, guarded you sufficiently from the +danger either of confusing the inferior school of chiaroscuro +with that of color, or of imagining that a work must necessarily +be good, on the sole ground of its belonging to the +higher group. I can now proceed securely to separate the +third school, that of Delineation, from both; and to examine +its special qualities.</p> + +<p>It begins (see "Inaugural Lectures," § 137) in the primitive +work of races insensible alike to shade and to color, and +nearly devoid of thought and of sentiment, but gradually +developing into both.</p> + +<p>Now as the design is primitive, so are the means likely to +be primitive. A line is the simplest work of art you can +produce. What are the simplest means you can produce it +with?</p> + +<p>A Cumberland lead-pencil is a work of art in itself, quite +a nineteenth-century machine. Pen and ink are complex and +scholarly; and even chalk or charcoal not always handy.</p> + +<p>But the primitive line, the first and last, generally the best +of lines, is that which you have elementary faculty of at your +fingers' ends, and which kittens can draw as well as you—the +scratch.</p> + +<p>The first, I say, and the last of lines. Permanent exceedingly,—even +in flesh, or on mahogany tables, often more +permanent than we desire. But when studiously and honorably +made, divinely permanent, or delightfully—as on the +venerable desks of our public schools, most of them, now, +specimens of wood engraving dear to the heart of England.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>34. Engraving, then, is, in brief terms, the Art of Scratch. +It is essentially the cutting into a solid substance for the sake +of making your ideas as permanent as possible, graven with +an iron pen in the Rock forever. <i>Permanence</i>, you observe, +is the object, not multiplicability;—that is quite an accidental, +sometimes not even a desirable, attribute of engraving. +Duration of your work—fame, and undeceived vision +of all men, on the pane of glass of the window on a wet +day, or on the pillars of the castle of Chillon, or on the +walls of the pyramids;—a primitive art,—yet first and last +with us.</p> + +<p>Since then engraving, we say, is essentially cutting into +the surface of any solid; as the primitive design is in lines +or dots, the primitive cutting of such design is a scratch or a +hole; and scratchable solids being essentially three—stone, +wood, metal,—we shall have three great schools of engraving +to investigate in each material.</p> + +<p>35. On tablet of stone, on tablet of wood, on tablet of steel,—the +first giving the law to everything; the second true +Athenian, like Athena's first statue in olive-wood, making +the law legible and homely; and the third true Vulcanian, +having the splendor and power of accomplished labor.</p> + +<p>Now of stone engraving, which is joined inseparably with +sculpture and architecture, I am not going to speak at length +in this course of lectures. I shall speak only of wood and +metal engraving. But there is one circumstance in stone +engraving which it is necessary to observe in connection with +the other two branches of the art.</p> + +<p>The great difficulty for a primitive engraver is to make his +scratch deep enough to be visible. Visibility is quite as +essential to your fame as permanence; and if you have only +your furrow to depend on, the engraved tablet, at certain +times of day, will be illegible, and passed without notice.</p> + +<p>But suppose you fill in your furrow with something black, +then it will be legible enough at once; and if the black fall +out or wash out, still your furrow is there, and may be filled +again by anybody.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>Therefore, the noble stone engravers, using marble to +receive their furrow, fill that furrow with marble ink.</p> + +<p>And you have an engraved plate to purpose;—with the +whole sky for its margin! Look here—the front of the church +of San Michele of Lucca,—white marble with green serpentine +for ink; or here,—the steps of the Giant's Stair, with +lead for ink; or here,—the floor of the Pisan Duomo, with +porphyry for ink. Such cutting, filled in with color or with +black, branches into all sorts of developments,—Florentine +mosaic on the one hand, niello on the other, and infinite minor +arts.</p> + +<p>36. Yet we must not make this filling with color part of +our definition of engraving. To engrave is, in final strictness, +"to decorate a surface with furrows." (Cameos, in +accuratest terms, are minute sculptures, not engravings.) +A plowed field is the purest type of such art; and is, on +hilly land, an exquisite piece of decoration.</p> + +<p>Therefore it will follow that engraving distinguishes itself +from ordinary drawing by greater need of muscular effort.</p> + +<p>The quality of a pen drawing is to be produced easily,—deliberately, +always,<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> but with a point that <i>glides</i> over the +paper. Engraving, on the contrary, requires always force, +and its virtue is that of a line produced by pressure, or by +blows of a chisel.</p> + +<p>It involves, therefore, always, ideas of power and dexterity, +but also of restraint; and the delight you take in it should +involve the understanding of the difficulty the workman dealt +with. You perhaps doubt the extent to which this feeling +justly extends, (in the first volume of "Modern Painters," +expressed under the head "Ideas of Power.") But why is +a large stone in any building grander than a small one? +Simply because it was more difficult to raise it. So, also, an +engraved line is, and ought to be, recognized as more grand +than a pen or pencil line, because it was more difficult to +execute it.</p> + +<p>In this mosaic of Lucca front you forgive much, and admire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +much, because you see it is all cut in stone. So, in wood and +steel, you ought to see that every line has been costly; but +observe, costly of deliberative, no less than athletic or executive +power. The main use of the restraint which makes +the line difficult to draw, is to give time and motive for +deliberation in drawing it, and to insure its being the best in +your power.</p> + +<p>37. For, as with deliberation, so without repentance, your +engraved line must be. It may, indeed, be burnished or +beaten out again in metal, or patched and botched in stone; +but always to disadvantage, and at pains which must not be +incurred often. And there is a singular evidence in one of +Dürer's finest plates that, in his time, or at least in his +manner of work, it was not possible at all. Among the disputes +as to the meaning of Dürer's Knight and Death, you +will find it sometimes suggested, or insisted, that the horse's +raised foot is going to fall into a snare. What has been +fancied a noose is only the former outline of the horse's foot +and limb, uneffaced.</p> + +<p>The engraved line is therefore to be conclusive; not experimental. +"I have determined this," says the engraver. Much +excellent pen drawing is excellent in being tentative,—in being +experimental. Indeterminate, not through want of meaning, +but through fullness of it—halting <i>wisely</i> between two +opinions—feeling cautiously after clearer opinions. But +your engraver has made up his opinion. This is so, and +must forever be so, he tells you. A very proper thing for a +thoughtful man to say; a very improper and impertinent +thing for a foolish one to say. Foolish engraving is consummately +foolish work. Look,—all the world,—look for +evermore, says the foolish engraver; see what a fool I have +been! How many lines I have laid for nothing! How many +lines upon lines, with no precept, much less superprecept!</p> + +<p>38. Here, then, are two definite ethical characters in all +engraved work. It is Athletic; and it is Resolute. Add one +more; that it is Obedient;—in their infancy the nurse, but +in their youth the slave, of the higher arts; servile, both in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +the mechanism and labor of it, and in its function of interpreting +the schools of painting as superior to itself.</p> + +<p>And this relation to the higher arts we will study at the +source of chief power in all the normal skill of Christendom, +Florence; and chiefly, as I said, in the work of one Florentine +master, Sandro Botticelli.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> "Inaugural Series," "Aratra Pentelici," and "Eagle's Nest."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> My inaugural series of seven lectures (now published uniform in +size with this edition. 1890).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Compare Inaugural Lectures, § 144.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="LECTURE_II" id="LECTURE_II"></a>LECTURE II.</h2> + +<h3>THE RELATION OF ENGRAVING TO OTHER ARTS IN FLORENCE.</h3> + + +<p>39. From what was laid before you in my last lecture, you +must now be aware that I do not mean, by the word 'engraving,' +merely the separate art of producing plates from which +black pictures may be printed.</p> + +<p>I mean, by engraving, the art of producing decoration on +a surface by the touches of a chisel or a burin; and I mean +by its relation to other arts, the subordinate service of this +linear work, in sculpture, in metal work, and in painting; or +in the representation and repetition of painting.</p> + +<p>And first, therefore, I have to map out the broad relations +of the arts of sculpture, metal work, and painting, in Florence, +among themselves, during the period in which the art of +engraving was distinctly connected with them.<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a></p> + +<p>40. You will find, or may remember, that in my lecture +on Michael Angelo and Tintoret I indicated the singular +importance, in the history of art, of a space of forty years, +between 1480, and the year in which Raphael died, 1520. +Within that space of time the change was completed, from +the principles of ancient, to those of existing, art;—a manifold +change, not definable in brief terms, but most clearly +characterized, and easily remembered, as the change of conscientious +and didactic art, into that which proposes to itself +no duty beyond technical skill, and no object but the pleasure +of the beholder. Of that momentous change itself I do not +purpose to speak in the present course of lectures; but my +endeavor will be to lay before you a rough chart of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +course of the arts in Florence up to the time when it took +place; a chart indicating for you, definitely, the growth of +conscience, in work which is distinctively conscientious, and +the perfecting of expression and means of popular address, +in that which is distinctively didactic.</p> + +<p>41. Means of popular address, observe, which have become +singularly important to us at this day. Nevertheless, remember +that the power of printing, or reprinting, black <i>pictures</i>,—practically +contemporary with that of reprinting black +<i>letters</i>,—modified the art of the draughtsman only as it modified +that of the scribe. Beautiful and unique writing, as +beautiful and unique painting or engraving, remain exactly +what they were; but other useful and reproductive methods +of both have been superadded. Of these, it is acutely said +by Dr. Alfred Woltmann,<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a>—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A far more important part is played in the art-life of Germany by +the technical arts for the <i>multiplying</i> of works; for Germany, while it +was the land of book-printing, is also the land of picture-printing. +Indeed, wood-engraving, which preceded the invention of book-printing, +<i>prepared the way for it, and only left one step more necessary for +it</i>. <i>Book-printing</i> and <i>picture-printing</i> have both the same inner cause +for their origin, namely, the impulse to make each mental gain a common +blessing. Not merely princes and rich nobles were to have the +privilege of adorning their private chapels and apartments with +beautiful religious pictures; the poorest man was also to have his +delight in that which the artist had devised and produced. It was not +sufficient for him when it stood in the church as an altar-shrine, visible +to him and to the congregation from afar; he desired to have it as his +own, to carry it about with him, to bring it into his own home. The +grand importance of wood-engraving and copperplate is not sufficiently +estimated in historical investigations. They were not alone of use in +the advance of art; they form an epoch in the entire life of mind and +culture. The idea embodied and multiplied in pictures became like +that embodied in the printed word, the herald of every intellectual +movement, and conquered the world."</p></div> + +<p>42. "Conquered the world"? The rest of the sentence +is true, but this, hyperbolic, and greatly false. It should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +have been said that both painting and engraving have conquered +much of the good in the world, and, hitherto, little +or none of the evil.</p> + +<p>Nor do I hold it usually an advantage to art, in teaching, +that it <i>should</i> be common, or constantly seen. In becoming +intelligibly and kindly beautiful, while it remains solitary +and unrivaled, it has a greater power. Westminster Abbey +is more didactic to the English nation, than a million of +popular illustrated treatises on architecture.</p> + +<p>Nay, even that it cannot be understood but with some +difficulty, and must be sought before it can be seen, is no +harm. The noblest didactic art is, as it were, set on a hill, +and its disciples come to it. The vilest destructive and +corrosive art stands at the street corners, crying, "Turn in +hither; come, eat of my bread, and drink of my wine, which +I have mingled."</p> + +<p>And Dr. Woltmann has allowed himself too easily to fall +into the common notion of Liberalism, that bad art, disseminated, +is instructive, and good art isolated, not so. The +question is, first, I assure you, whether what art you have got +is good or bad. If essentially bad, the more you see of it, the +worse for you. Entirely popular art is all that is noble, in +the cathedral, the council chamber, and the market-place; not +the paltry colored print pinned on the wall of a private room.</p> + +<p><a id="Sect_43" name="Sect_43"></a>43. I despise the poor!—do I, think you? Not so. They +only despise the poor who think them better off with police +news, and colored tracts of the story of Joseph and Potiphar's +wife, than they were with Luini painting on their church +walls, and Donatello carving the pillars of their market-places.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the effort to be universally, instead of locally, +didactic, modified advantageously, as you know, and in a +thousand ways varied, the earlier art of engraving: and the +development of its popular power, whether for good or evil, +came exactly—so fate appointed—at a time when the minds +of the masses were agitated by the struggle which closed in +the Reformation in some countries, and in the desperate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +refusal of Reformation in others.<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> The two greatest masters +of engraving whose lives we are to study, were, both of them, +passionate reformers: Holbein no less than Luther; Botticelli +no less than Savonarola.</p> + +<p>44. Reformers, I mean, in the full and, accurately, the +only, sense. Not preachers of new doctrines; but witnesses +against the betrayal of the old ones, which were on the lips +of all men, and in the lives of none. Nay, the painters are +indeed more pure reformers than the priests. They rebuked +the manifest vices of men, while they realized whatever was +loveliest in their faith. Priestly reform soon enraged itself +into mere contest for personal opinions; while, without rage, +but in stern rebuke of all that was vile in conduct or thought,—in +declaration of the always-received faiths of the Christian +Church, and in warning of the power of faith, and death,<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> +over the petty designs of men,—Botticelli and Holbein together +fought foremost in the ranks of the Reformation.</p> + +<p>45. To-day I will endeavor to explain how they attained +such rank. Then, in the next two lectures, the technics of +both,—their way of speaking; and in the last two, what they +had got to say.</p> + +<p>First, then, we ask how they attained this rank;—who +taught <i>them</i> what they were finally best to teach? How far +must every people—how far did this Florentine people—teach +its masters, before <i>they</i> could teach <i>it</i>?</p> + +<p>Even in these days, when every man is, by hypothesis, as +good as another, does not the question sound strange to you? +You recognize in the past, as you think, clearly, that national +advance takes place always under the guidance of masters, or +groups of masters, possessed of what appears to be some new +personal sensibility or gift of invention; and we are apt to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +be reverent to these alone, as if the nation itself had been +unprogressive, and suddenly awakened, or converted, by the +genius of one man.</p> + +<p>No idea can be more superficial. Every nation must teach +its tutors, and prepare itself to receive them; but the fact on +which our impression is founded—the rising, apparently +by chance, of men whose singular gifts suddenly melt the +multitude, already at the point of fusion; or suddenly form, +and <i>in</i>form, the multitude which has gained coherence enough +to be capable of formation,—enables us to measure and map +the gain of national intellectual territory, by tracing first +the lifting of the mountain chains of its genius.</p> + +<p>46. I have told you that we have nothing to do at present +with the great transition from ancient to modern habits of +thought which took place at the beginning of the sixteenth +century. I only want to go as far as that point;—where we +shall find the old superstitious art represented <i>finally</i> by +Perugino, and the modern scientific and anatomical art represented +<i>primarily</i> by Michael Angelo. And the epithet +bestowed on Perugino by Michael Angelo, 'goffo nell' arte,' +dunce, or blockhead, in art,—being, as far as my knowledge +of history extends, the most cruel, the most false, and the +most foolish insult ever offered by one great man to another,—does +you at least good service, in showing how trenchant +the separation is between the two orders of artists,<a name="FNanchor_H_8" id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a>—how +exclusively we may follow out the history of all the 'goffi +nell' arte,' and write our Florentine Dunciad, and Laus +Stultitiæ, in peace; and never trench upon the thoughts or +ways of these proud ones, who showed their fathers' nakedness, +and snatched their masters' fame.</p> + +<p>47. The Florentine dunces in art are a multitude; but I +only want you to know something about twenty of them.</p> + +<p>Twenty!—you think that a grievous number? It may,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +perhaps, appease you a little to be told that when you really +have learned a very little, accurately, about these twenty +dunces, there are only five more men among the artists of +Christendom whose works I shall ask you to examine while +you are under my care. That makes twenty-five altogether,—an +exorbitant demand on your attention, you still think? +And yet, but a little while ago, you were all agog to get me +to go and look at Mrs. A's sketches, and tell you what was to +be thought about <i>them</i>; and I've had the greatest difficulty to +keep Mrs. B's photographs from being shown side by side +with the Raphael drawings in the University galleries. And +you will waste any quantity of time in looking at Mrs. A's +sketches or Mrs. B's photographs; and yet you look grave, +because, out of nineteen centuries of European art-labor and +thought, I ask you to learn something seriously about the +works of five-and-twenty men!</p> + +<p>48. It is hard upon you, doubtless, considering the quantity +of time you must nowadays spend in trying which can hit balls +farthest. So I will put the task into the simplest form I can.</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 656px;"> +<a id="DIAGRAM" name="DIAGRAM"></a><img src="images/image036.png" width="656" height="449" alt="Diagram showing lifespans of artists between 1200 and 1600 A.D." title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Here are the names of the twenty-five men,<a name="FNanchor_I_9" id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a> and opposite +each, a line indicating the length of his life, and the position +of it in his century. The diagram still, however, needs a +few words of explanation. Very chiefly, for those who know +anything of my writings, there is needed explanation of its +not including the names of Titian, Reynolds, Velasquez, +Turner, and other such men, always reverently put before +you at other times.</p> + +<p>They are absent, because I have no fear of your not looking +at these. All your lives through, if you care about art, you +will be looking at them. But while you are here at Oxford, +I want to make you learn what you should know of these +earlier, many of them weaker, men, who yet, for the very +reason of their greater simplicity of power, are better guides +for you, and of whom some will remain guides to all genera<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>tions. +And, as regards the subject of our present course, I +have a still more weighty reason;—Vandyke, Gainsborough, +Titian, Reynolds, Velasquez, and the rest, are essentially +portrait painters. They give you the likeness of a man: they +have nothing to say either about his future life, or his gods. +'That is the look of him,' they say: 'here, on earth, we know +no more.'</p> + +<p>49. But these, whose names I have engraved, have something +to say—generally much,—either about the future life +of man, or about his gods. They are therefore, literally, seers +or prophets. False prophets, it may be, or foolish ones; of +that you must judge; but you must read before you can +judge; and read (or hear) them consistently; for you don't +know them till you have heard them out. But with Sir +Joshua, or Titian, one portrait is as another: it is here a +pretty lady, there a great lord; but speechless, all;—whereas, +with these twenty-five men, each picture or statue is not +merely another person of a pleasant society, but another +chapter of a Sibylline book.</p> + +<p>50. For this reason, then, I do not want Sir Joshua or +Velasquez in my defined group; and for my present purpose, +I can spare from it even four others:—namely, three who +have <i>too</i> special gifts, and must each be separately studied—Correggio, +Carpaccio, Tintoret;—and one who has no special +gift, but a balanced group of many—Cima. This leaves +twenty-one for classification, of whom I will ask you to lay +hold thus. You must continually have felt the difficulty +caused by the names of centuries not tallying with their years;—the +year 1201 being the first of the thirteenth century, and +so on. I am always plagued by it myself, much as I have to +think and write with reference to chronology; and I mean for +the future, in our art chronology, to use as far as possible a +different form of notation.</p> + +<p>51. In my diagram the vertical lines are the divisions of +tens of years; the thick black lines divide the centuries. The +horizontal lines, then, at a glance, tell you the length and +date of each artist's life. In one or two instances I cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +find the date of birth; in one or two more, of death; and +the line indicates then only the ascertained<a name="FNanchor_J_10" id="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a> period during +which the artist worked.</p> + +<p>And, thus represented, you see nearly all their lives run +through the year of a new century; so that if the lines representing +them were needles, and the black bars of the years +1300, 1400, 1500 were magnets, I could take up nearly all +the needles by lifting the bars.</p> + +<p>52. I will actually do this, then, in three other simple +diagrams. I place a rod for the year 1300 over the lines of +life, and I take up all it touches. I have to drop Niccola +Pisano, but I catch five. Now, with my rod of 1400, I have +dropped Orcagna indeed, but I again catch five. Now, with +my rod of 1500, I indeed drop Filippo Lippi and Verrocchio, +but I catch seven. And here I have three pennons, with the +staves of the years 1300, 1400, and 1500 running through +them,—holding the names of nearly all the men I want you +to study in easily remembered groups of five, five, and seven. +And these three groups I shall hereafter call the 1300 group, +1400 group, and 1500 group.</p> + +<table summary="Artists 1300" style="border-collapse:collapse;"> +<tr> +<td style="height:80px;"> </td> +<td rowspan="7"> +<div class="figright" style="width: 290px;"> +<img src="images/image040a.png" width="290" height="223" alt="Diagram showing lifespans of artists as lines around 1300" title="" /> +</div> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1240-1302 Cimabue</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1250-1321 Giovanni Pisano</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1232-1310 <span class="smcap">Arnolfo</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1270-1345 Andrea Pisano</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1276-1336 Giotto</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Artists 1400"> +<tr style="height:80px;"> +<td> </td> +<td rowspan="7"> +<div class="figright" style="width: 261px;"> +<img src="images/image040b.png" width="261" height="221" alt="Diagram showing lifespans of artists as lines around 1400" title="" /> +</div></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1374-1438 Quercia</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1381-1455 Ghiberti</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1377-1446 <span class="smcap">Brunelleschi</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1386-1468 Donatello</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:30px;">1400-1481 Luca</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table summary="Artists 1500"> +<tr style="height:60px;"> +<td> </td> +<td rowspan="9"> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 288px;"> +<img src="images/image040c.png" width="288" height="276" alt="Diagram showing lifespans of artists as lines around 1500" title="" /> +</div> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:28px;">1431-1506 Mantegna</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:28px;">1457-1515 Botticelli</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:28px;">1426-1516 Bellini</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:28px;">1446-1524 <span class="smcap">Perugino</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:28px;">1470-1535 Luini</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:28px;">1471-1527 Dürer</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="height:28px;">1498-1543 Holbein</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> </td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<p>53. But why should four unfortunate masters be dropped +out?</p> + +<p>Well, I want to drop them out, at any rate; but not in +disrespect. In hope, on the contrary, to make you remember +them very separately indeed;—for this following reason.</p> + +<p>We are in the careless habit of speaking of men who form +a great number of pupils, and have a host of inferior satellites +round them, as masters of great schools.</p> + +<p>But before you call a man a master, you should ask, +Are his pupils greater or less than himself? If they are +greater than himself, he is a master indeed;—he has been a +true teacher. But if all his pupils are less than himself, he +may have been a great <i>man</i>, but in all probability has been +a bad <i>master</i>, or no master.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now these men, whom I have signally left out of my +groups, are true <i>Masters</i>.</p> + +<p>Niccola Pisano taught all Italy; but chiefly his own son, +who succeeded, and in some things very much surpassed him.</p> + +<p>Orcagna taught all Italy, after him, down to Michael +Angelo. And these two—Lippi, the religious schools, Verrocchio, +the artist schools, of their century.</p> + +<p>Lippi taught Sandro Botticelli; and Verrocchio taught +Lionardo da Vinci, Lorenzo di Credi, and Perugino. Have +I not good reason to separate the masters of such pupils from +the schools they created?</p> + +<p>54. But how is it that I can drop just the cards I want +out of my pack?</p> + +<p>Well, certainly I force and fit matters a little: I leave +some men out of my list whom I should like to have in it;—Benozzo +Gozzoli, for instance, and Mino da Fiesole; but I +can do without them, and so can you also, for the present. +I catch Luca by a hair's-breadth only, with my 1400 rod; +but on the whole, with very little coaxing, I get the groups in +this memorable and quite literally 'handy' form. For see, +I write my lists of five, five, and seven, on bits of pasteboard; +I hinge my rods to these; and you can brandish the school of +1400 in your left hand, and of 1500 in your right, like—railway +signals;—and I wish all railway signals were as clear. +Once learn, thoroughly, the groups in this artificially contracted +form, and you can refine and complete afterwards at +your leisure.</p> + +<p>55. And thus actually flourishing my two pennons, and +getting my grip of the men, in either hand, I find a notable +thing concerning my two flags. The men whose names I hold +in my left hand are all sculptors; the men whose names I +hold in my right are all painters.</p> + +<p>You will infallibly suspect me of having chosen them +thus on purpose. No, honor bright!—I chose simply the +greatest men,—those I wanted to talk to you about. I +arranged them by their dates; I put them into three conclusive +pennons; and behold what follows!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>56. Farther, note this: in the 1300 group, four out of the +five men are architects as well as sculptors and painters. In +the 1400 group, there is one architect; in the 1500, none. +And the meaning of that is, that in 1300 the arts were all +united, and duly led by architecture; in 1400, sculpture +began to assume too separate a power to herself; in 1500, +painting arrogated all, and, at last, betrayed all. From which, +with much other collateral evidence, you may justly conclude +that the three arts ought to be practiced together, and that +they naturally are so. I long since asserted that no man +could be an architect who was not a sculptor. As I learned +more and more of my business, I perceived also that no man +could be a sculptor who was not an architect;—that is to say, +who had not knowledge enough, and pleasure enough in +structural law, to be able to build, on occasion, better than a +mere builder. And so, finally, I now positively aver to you +that nobody, in the graphic arts, can be quite rightly a +master of anything, who is not master of everything!</p> + +<p>57. The junction of the three arts in men's minds, at the +best times, is shortly signified in these words of Chaucer. +Love's Garden,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Everidele<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enclosed was, and walled well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With high walls, embatailled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Portrayed without, and well entayled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With many rich portraitures.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The French original is better still, and gives four arts in +unison:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quant suis avant un pou alé<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et vy un vergier grant et le,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bien cloz de bon mur batillié<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pourtrait dehors, et entaillié<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ou (for au) maintes riches escriptures.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Read also carefully the description of the temples of +Mars and Venus in the Knight's Tale. Contemporary French +uses 'entaille' even of solid sculpture and of the living +form; and Pygmalion, as a perfect master, professes wood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +carving, ivory carving, waxwork, and iron-work, no less than +stone sculpture:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pimalion, uns entaillieres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pourtraians en fuz<a name="FNanchor_K_11" id="FNanchor_K_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a> et en pierres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">En mettaux, en os, et en cire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et en toute autre matire.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>58. I made a little sketch, when last in Florence, of a +subject which will fix the idea of this unity of the arts in +your minds. At the base of the tower of Giotto are two rows +of hexagonal panels, filled with bas-reliefs. Some of these +are by unknown hands,—some by Andrea Pisano, some by +Luca della Robbia, two by Giotto himself; of these I sketched +the panel representing the art of Painting.</p> + +<p>You have in that bas-relief one of the foundation-stones +of the most perfectly built tower in Europe; you have that +stone carved by its architect's own hand; you find, further, +that this architect and sculptor was the greatest painter of +his time, and the friend of the greatest poet; and you have +represented by him a painter in his shop,—bottega,—as +symbolic of the entire art of painting.</p> + +<p>59. In which representation, please note how carefully +Giotto shows you the tabernacles or niches, in which the +paintings are to be placed. Not independent of their +frames, these panels of his, you see!</p> + +<p>Have you ever considered, in the early history of painting, +how important also is the history of the frame maker? It +is a matter, I assure you, needing your very best consideration. +For the frame was made before the picture. The +painted window is much, but the aperture it fills was thought +of before it. The fresco by Giotto is much, but the vault it +adorns was planned first. Who thought of these;—who +built?</p> + +<p>Questions taking us far back before the birth of the shep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>herd +boy of Fésole—questions not to be answered by history +of painting only, still less of painting in <i>Italy</i> only.</p> + +<p>60. And in pointing out to you this fact, I may once for +all prove to you the essential unity of the arts, and show you +how impossible it is to understand one without reference to +another. Which I wish you to observe all the more closely, +that you may use, without danger of being misled, the data, +of unequaled value, which have been collected by Crowe and +Cavalcaselle, in the book which they have called a History of +Painting in Italy, but which is in fact only a dictionary of +details relating to that history. Such a title is an absurdity +on the face of it. For, first, you can no more write the +history of painting in Italy than you can write the history +of the south wind in Italy. The sirocco does indeed produce +certain effects at Genoa, and others at Rome; but what would +be the value of a treatise upon the winds, which, for the honor +of any country, assumed that every city of it had a native +sirocco?</p> + +<p>But, further,—imagine what success would attend the +meteorologist who should set himself to give an account of +the south wind, but take no notice of the north!</p> + +<p>And, finally, suppose an attempt to give you an account of +either wind, but none of the seas, or mountain passes, by +which they were nourished, or directed.</p> + +<p>61. For instance, I am in this course of lectures to give +you an account of a single and minor branch of graphic art,—engraving. +But observe how many references to local circumstances +it involves. There are three materials for it, we +said;—stone, wood, and metal. Stone engraving is the art +of countries possessing marble and gems; wood engraving, +of countries overgrown with forest; metal engraving, of +countries possessing treasures of silver and gold. And the +style of a stone engraver is formed on pillars and pyramids; +the style of a wood engraver under the eaves of larch cottages; +the style of a metal engraver in the treasuries of kings. Do +you suppose I could rightly explain to you the value of a +single touch on brass by Finiguerra, or on box by Bewick,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +unless I had grasp of the great laws of climate and country; +and could trace the inherited sirocco or tramontana of thought +to which the souls and bodies of the men owed their existence?</p> + +<p>62. You see that in this flag of 1300 there is a dark strong +line in the center, against which you read the name of +Arnolfo.</p> + +<p>In writing our Florentine Dunciad, or History of Fools, +can we possibly begin with a better day than All Fools' Day? +On All Fools' Day—the first, if you like better so to call it, +of the month of <i>opening</i>,—in the year 1300, is signed the +document making Arnolfo a citizen of Florence, and in 1310 +he dies, chief master of the works of the cathedral there. To +this man, Crowe and Cavalcaselle give half a page, out of +three volumes of five hundred pages each.</p> + +<p>But lower down in my flag, (not put there because of any +inferiority, but by order of chronology,) you will see a name +sufficiently familiar to you—that of Giotto; and to him, our +historians of painting in Italy give some hundred pages, +under the impression, stated by them at page 243 of their +volume, that "in his hands, art in the Peninsula became +entitled for the first time to the name of Italian."</p> + +<p>63. Art became Italian! Yes, but <i>what</i> art? Your +authors give a perspective—or what they call such,—of the +upper church of Assisi, as if that were merely an accidental +occurrence of blind walls for Giotto to paint on!</p> + +<p>But how came the upper church of Assisi there? How +came it to be vaulted—to be aisled? How came Giotto to be +asked to paint upon it?</p> + +<p>The art that built it, good or bad, must have been an Italian +one, before Giotto. He could not have painted on the air. +Let us see how his panels were made for him.</p> + +<p>64. This Captain—the center of our first group—Arnolfo, +has always hitherto been called 'Arnolfo di Lapo;'—Arnolfo +the son of Lapo.</p> + +<p>Modern investigators come down on us delightedly, to tell +us—Arnolfo was <i>not</i> the son of Lapo.</p> + +<p>In these days you will have half a dozen doctors, writing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +each a long book, and the sense of all will be,—Arnolfo wasn't +the son of Lapo. Much good may you get of that!</p> + +<p>Well, you will find the fact to be, there was a great Northman +builder, a true son of Thor, who came down into Italy +in 1200, served the order of St. Francis there, built Assisi, +taught Arnolfo how to build, with Thor's hammer, and disappeared, +leaving his name uncertain—Jacopo—Lapo—nobody +knows what. Arnolfo always recognizes this man as his true +father, who put the soul-life into him; he is known to his +Florentines always as Lapo's Arnolfo.</p> + +<p>That, or some likeness of that, is the vital fact. You never +can get at the literal limitation of living facts. They disguise +themselves by the very strength of their life: get told again +and again in different ways by all manner of people;—the +literalness of them is turned topsy-turvy, inside-out, over and +over again;—then the fools come and read them wrong side +upwards, or else, say there never was a fact at all. Nothing +delights a true blockhead so much as to prove a negative;—to +show that everybody has been wrong. Fancy the delicious +sensation, to an empty-headed creature, of fancying for a +moment that he has emptied everybody else's head as well as +his own! nay, that, for once, his own hollow bottle of a head +has had the best of other bottles, and has been <i>first</i> empty;—first +to know—nothing.</p> + +<p>65. Hold, then, steadily the first tradition about this +Arnolfo. That his real father was called "Cambio" matters +to you not a straw. That he never called himself Cambio's +Arnolfo—that nobody else ever called him so, down to +Vasari's time, is an infinitely significant fact to you. In my +twenty-second letter in Fors Clavigera you will find some +account of the noble habit of the Italian artists to call themselves +by their masters' names, considering their master as +their true father. If not the name of the master, they take +that of their native place, as having owed the character of +their life to that. They rarely take their own family name: +sometimes it is not even known,—when best known, it is +unfamiliar to us. The great Pisan artists, for instance,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +never bear any other name than 'the Pisan;' among the other +five-and-twenty names in my list, not above six, I think, the +two German, with four Italian, are family names. Perugino, +(Peter of Perugia,) Luini, (Bernard of Luino,) Quercia, +(James of Quercia,) Correggio, (Anthony of Correggio,) are +named from their native places. Nobody would have understood +me if I had called Giotto, 'Ambrose Bondone;' or +Tintoret, Robusti; or even Raphael, Sanzio. Botticelli is +named from his master; Ghiberti from his father-in-law; and +Ghirlandajo from his work. Orcagna, who <i>did</i>, for a wonder, +name himself from his father, Andrea Cione, of Florence, +has been always called 'Angel' by everybody else; while +Arnolfo, who never named himself from his father, is now +like to be fathered against his will.</p> + +<p>But, I again beg of you, keep to the old story. For it +represents, however inaccurately in detail, clearly in sum, the +fact, that some great master of German Gothic at this time +came down into Italy, and changed the entire form of Italian +architecture by his touch. So that while Niccola and Giovanni +Pisano are still virtually Greek artists, experimentally +introducing Gothic forms, Arnolfo and Giotto adopt the entire +Gothic ideal of form, and thenceforward use the pointed arch +and steep gable as the limits of sculpture.</p> + +<p>66. Hitherto I have been speaking of the relations of my +twenty-five men to each other. But now, please note their +relations altogether to the art before them. These twenty-five +include, I say, all the great masters of <i>Christian</i> +art.</p> + +<p>Before them, the art was too savage to be Christian; afterwards, +too carnal to be Christian.</p> + +<p>Too savage to be Christian? I will justify that assertion +hereafter; but you will find that the European art of 1200 +includes all the most developed and characteristic conditions +of the style in the north which you have probably been +accustomed to think of as <span class="smcap">Norman</span>, and which you may +always most conveniently call so; and the most developed +conditions of the style in the south, which, formed out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +effete Greek, Persian, and Roman tradition, you may, in +like manner, most conveniently express by the familiar word +<span class="smcap">Byzantine</span>. Whatever you call them, they are in origin +adverse in temper, and remain so up to the year 1200. Then +an influence appears, seemingly that of one man, Nicholas +the Pisan, (our first <span class="smcap">Master</span>, observe,) and a new spirit +adopts what is best in each, and gives to what it adopts a new +energy of its own; namely, this conscientious and didactic +power which is the speciality of its progressive existence. +And just as the new-born and natural art of Athens collects +and reanimates Pelasgian and Egyptian tradition, purifying +their worship, and perfecting their work, into the living +heathen faith of the world, so this new-born and natural +art of Florence collects and animates the Norman and +Byzantine tradition, and forms out of the perfected worship +and work of both, the honest Christian faith, and vital craftsmanship, +of the world.</p> + +<p>67. Get this first summary, therefore, well into your minds. +The word 'Norman' I use roughly for North-savage;—roughly, +but advisedly. I mean Lombard, Scandinavian, +Frankish; everything north-savage that you can think of, +except Saxon. (I have a reason for that exception; never +mind it just now.)<a name="FNanchor_L_12" id="FNanchor_L_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_12" class="fnanchor">[L]</a></p> + +<p>All north-savage I call <span class="smcap">Norman</span>, all south-savage I call +<span class="smcap">Byzantine</span>; this latter including dead native Greek primarily—then +dead foreign Greek, in Rome;—then Arabian—Persian—Phœnician—Indian—all +you can think of, in art +of hot countries, up to this year 1200, I rank under the one +term Byzantine. Now all this cold art—Norman, and all this +hot art—Byzantine, is virtually dead, till 1200. It has no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +conscience, no didactic power;<a name="FNanchor_M_13" id="FNanchor_M_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_13" class="fnanchor">[M]</a> it is devoid of both, in the +sense that dreams are.</p> + +<p>Then in the thirteenth century, men wake as if they heard +an alarum through the whole vault of heaven, and true human +life begins again, and the cradle of this life is the Val d'Arno. +There the northern and southern nations meet; there they +lay down their enmities; there they are first baptized unto +John's baptism for the remission of sins; there is born, and +thence exiled,—thought faithless, for breaking the font of +baptism to save a child from drowning, in his 'bel San Giovanni,'—the +greatest of Christian poets; he who had pity +even for the lost.</p> + +<p>68. Now, therefore, my whole history of <i>Christian</i> architecture +and painting begins with this Baptistery of Florence, +and with its associated Cathedral. Arnolfo brought the one +into the form in which you now see it; he laid the foundation +of the other, and that to purpose, and he is therefore the +<span class="smcap">Captain</span> of our first school.</p> + +<p>For this Florentine Baptistery<a name="FNanchor_N_14" id="FNanchor_N_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_14" class="fnanchor">[N]</a> is the great one of the +world. Here is the center of Christian knowledge and power.</p> + +<p>And it is one piece of large <i>engraving</i>. White substance, +cut into, and filled with black, and dark-green.</p> + +<p>No more perfect work was afterwards done; and I wish you +to grasp the idea of this building clearly and irrevocably,—first, +in order (as I told you in a previous lecture) to quit +yourselves thoroughly of the idea that ornament should be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +decorated construction; and, secondly, as the noblest type of +the intaglio ornamentation, which developed itself into all +minor application of black and white to engraving.</p> + +<p>69. That it should do so first at Florence, was the natural +sequence, and the just reward, of the ancient skill of Etruria +in chased metal-work. The effects produced in gold, either +by embossing or engraving, were the direct means of giving +interest to his surfaces at the command of the 'auri faber,' +or orfevre: and every conceivable artifice of studding, chiseling, +and interlacing was exhausted by the artists in gold, who +were at the head of the metal-workers, and from whom the +ranks of the sculptors were reinforced.</p> + +<p>The old French word 'orfroiz,' (aurifrigia,) expresses +essentially what we call 'frosted' work in gold; that which +resembles small dew or crystals of hoar-frost; the 'frigia' +coming from the Latin frigus. To chase, or enchase, is not +properly said of the gold; but of the jewel which it secures +with hoops or ridges, (French, <i>en</i>chasser<a name="FNanchor_O_15" id="FNanchor_O_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_O_15" class="fnanchor">[O]</a>). Then the +armorer, or cup and casket maker, added to this kind of +decoration that of flat inlaid enamel; and the silver-worker, +finding that the raised filigree (still a staple at Genoa) only +attracted tarnish, or got crushed, early sought to decorate a +surface which would bear external friction, with labyrinths +of safe incision.</p> + + + +<p><a id="Sect_70" name="Sect_70"></a>70. Of the <i>security</i> of incision as a means of permanent +decoration, as opposed to ordinary carving, here is a beautiful +instance in the base of one of the external shafts of the +Cathedral of Lucca; thirteenth-century work, which by this +time, had it been carved in relief, would have been a shapeless +remnant of indecipherable bosses. But it is still as safe +as if it had been cut yesterday, because the smooth round +mass of the pillar is entirely undisturbed; into that, furrows +are cut with a chisel as much under command and as powerful +as a burin. The effect of the design is trusted entirely to the +depth of these incisions—here dying out and expiring in the +light of the marble, there deepened, by drill holes, into as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +definitely a black line as if it were drawn with ink; and +describing the outline of the leafage with a delicacy of touch +and of perception which no man will ever surpass, and which +very few have rivaled, in the proudest days of design.</p> + +<p>71. This security, in silver plates, was completed by filling +the furrows with the black paste which at once exhibited and +preserved them. The transition from that niello-work to +modern engraving is one of no real moment: my object is to +make you understand the qualities which constitute the <i>merit</i> +of the engraving, whether charged with niello or ink. And +this I hope ultimately to accomplish by studying with you +some of the works of the four men, Botticelli and Mantegna +in the south, Dürer and Holbein in the north, whose names +I have put in our last flag, above and beneath those of the +three mighty painters, Perugino the captain, Bellini on one +side—Luini on the other.</p> + +<p>The four following lectures<a name="FNanchor_P_16" id="FNanchor_P_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_P_16" class="fnanchor">[P]</a> will contain data necessary +for such study: you must wait longer before I can place before +you those by which I can justify what must greatly surprise +some of my audience—my having given Perugino the captain's +place among the three painters.</p> + +<p>72. But I do so, at least primarily, because what is commonly +thought affected in his design is indeed the true +remains of the great architectural symmetry which was soon +to be lost, and which makes him the true follower of Arnolfo +and Brunelleschi; and because he is a sound craftsman and +workman to the very heart's core. A noble, gracious, and +quiet laborer from youth to death,—never weary, never +impatient, never untender, never untrue. Not Tintoret in +power, not Raphael in flexibility, not Holbein in veracity, +not Luini in love,—their gathered gifts he has, in balanced +and fruitful measure, fit to be the guide, and impulse, and +father of all.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Compare "Aratra Pentelici," § 154.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> "Holbein and His Time," 4to, Bentley, 1872, (a very valuable +book,) p. 17. Italics mine.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> See Carlyle, "Frederick," Book III., chap. viii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> I believe I am taking too much trouble in writing these lectures. +This sentence, § 44, has cost me, I suppose, first and last, about as many +hours as there are lines in it;—and my choice of these two words, +faith and death, as representatives of power, will perhaps, after all, +only puzzle the reader.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_8" id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> He is said by Vasari to have called Francia the like. Francia is +a child compared to Perugino; but a finished working-goldsmith and +ornamental painter nevertheless; and one of the very last men to be +called 'goffo,' except by unparalleled insolence.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_9" id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> The diagram used at the lecture is engraved on page 30; the reader +had better draw it larger for himself, as it had to be made inconveniently +small for this size of leaf.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_10" id="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> 'Ascertained,' scarcely any date ever is, quite satisfactorily. The +diagram only represents what is practically and broadly true. I may +have to modify it greatly in detail.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_K_11" id="Footnote_K_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_11"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> For fust, log of wood, erroneously 'fer' in the later printed editions. +Compare the account of the works of Art and Nature, towards the end +of the Romance of the Rose.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_L_12" id="Footnote_L_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_12"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> Of course it would have been impossible to express in any accurate +terms, short enough for the compass of a lecture, the conditions of +opposition between the Heptarchy and the Northmen;—between the +Byzantine and Roman;—and between the Byzantine and Arab, which +form minor, but not less trenchant, divisions of Art-province, for subsequent +delineation. If you can refer to my "Stones of Venice," see +§ 20 of its first chapter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_M_13" id="Footnote_M_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_13"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> Again much too broad a statement: not to be qualified but by a +length of explanation here impossible. My lectures on Architecture, +now in preparation ("Val d'Arno"), will contain further detail.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_N_14" id="Footnote_N_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_14"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> At the side of my page, here, I find the following memorandum, +which was expanded in the viva-voce lecture. The reader must make +what he can of it, for I can't expand it here. +</p><p> +<i>Sense</i> of Italian Church plan. +</p><p> +Baptistery, to make Christians in; house, or dome, for them to pray +and be preached to in; bell-tower, to ring all over the town, when +they were either to pray together, rejoice together, or to be warned of +danger. +</p><p> +Harvey's picture of the Covenanters, with a shepherd on the outlook, +as a campanile.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_O_15" id="Footnote_O_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_O_15"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> And 'chassis,' a window frame, or tracery.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_P_16" id="Footnote_P_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_P_16"><span class="label">[P]</span></a> This present lecture does not, as at present published, justify its +title; because I have not thought it necessary to write the viva-voce +portions of it which amplified the 69th paragraph. I will give the substance +of them in better form elsewhere; meantime the part of the +lecture here given may be in its own way useful.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="LECTURE_III" id="LECTURE_III"></a>LECTURE III.</h2> + +<h3>THE TECHNICS OF WOOD ENGRAVING.</h3> + + +<p>73. I am to-day to begin to tell you what it is necessary +you should observe respecting methods of manual execution +in the two great arts of engraving. Only to <i>begin</i> to tell you. +There need be no end of telling you such things, if you care +to hear them. The theory of art is soon mastered; but 'dal +detto al fatto, v'e gran tratto;' and as I have several times +told you in former lectures, every day shows me more and +more the importance of the Hand.</p> + +<p>74. Of the hand as a Servant, observe,—not of the hand +as a Master. For there are two great kinds of manual work: +one in which the hand is continually receiving and obeying +orders; the other in which it is acting independently, or even +giving orders of its own. And the dependent and submissive +hand is a noble hand; but the independent or imperative +hand is a vile one.</p> + +<p>That is to say, as long as the pen, or chisel, or other graphic +instrument, is moved under the direct influence of mental +attention, and obeys orders of the brain, it is working nobly;—the +moment it moves independently of them, and performs +some habitual dexterity of its own, it is base.</p> + +<p>75. <i>Dexterity</i>—I say;—some 'right-handedness' of its +own. We might wisely keep that word for what the hand +does at the mind's bidding; and use an opposite word—sinisterity,—for +what it does at its own. For indeed we want +such a word in speaking of modern art; it is all full of sinisterity. +Hands independent of brains;—the left hand, by +division of labor, not knowing what the right does,—still +less what it ought to do.</p> + +<p>76. Turning, then, to our special subject. All engraving,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +I said, is intaglio in the solid. But the solid, in wood engraving, +is a coarse substance, easily cut; and in metal, a fine +substance, not easily. Therefore, in general, you may be +prepared to accept ruder and more elementary work in one +than the other; and it will be the means of appeal to blunter +minds.</p> + +<p>You probably already know the difference between the +actual methods of producing a printed impression from wood +and metal; but I may perhaps make the matter a little more +clear. In metal engraving, you cut ditches, fill them with +ink, and press your paper into them. In wood engraving, +you leave ridges, rub the tops of them with ink, and stamp +them on your paper.</p> + +<p>The instrument with which the substance, whether of the +wood or steel, is cut away, is the same. It is a solid plowshare, +which, instead of throwing the earth aside, throws it +up and out, producing at first a simple ravine, or furrow, +in the wood or metal, which you can widen by another cut, +or extend by successive cuts. This (Fig. 1) is the general +shape of the solid plowshare: +but it is of course made sharper or blunter at pleasure. The +furrow produced is at first the wedge-shaped or cuneiform +ravine, already so much dwelt upon in my lectures on Greek +sculpture.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 229px;"> +<img src="images/image053.png" width="229" height="57" alt="Fig. 1" title="" /> +<span class="caption smcap">Fig. 1</span> +</div> + +<p>77. Since, then, in wood printing, you print from the +surface left solid; and, in metal printing, from the hollows +cut into it, it follows that if you put few touches on wood, +you draw, as on a slate, with white lines, leaving a quantity +of black; but if you put few touches on metal, you draw +with black lines, leaving a quantity of white.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now the eye is not in the least offended by quantity of +white, but is, or ought to be, greatly saddened and offended by +quantity of black. Hence it follows that you must never +put little work on wood. You must not sketch upon it. You +may sketch on metal as much as you please.</p> + +<p>78. "Paradox," you will say, as usual. "Are not all +our journals,—and the best of them, Punch, par excellence,—full +of the most brilliantly swift and slight sketches, +engraved on wood; while line-engravings take ten years to +produce, and cost ten guineas each when they are done?"</p> + +<p>Yes, that is so; but observe, in the first place, what appears +to you a sketch on wood is not so at all, but a most laborious +and careful imitation of a sketch on paper; whereas when +you see what appears to be a sketch on metal, it <i>is</i> one. And +in the second place, so far as the popular fashion is contrary +to this natural method,—so far as we do in reality try to +produce effects of sketching in wood, and of finish in metal,—our +work is wrong.</p> + +<p>Those apparently careless and free sketches on the wood +ought to have been stern and deliberate; those exquisitely +toned and finished engravings on metal ought to have looked, +instead, like free ink sketches on white paper. That is the +theorem which I propose to you for consideration, and +which, in the two branches of its assertion, I hope to prove +to you; the first part of it, (that wood-cutting should be +careful,) in this present lecture; the second, (that metal-cutting +should be, at least in a far greater degree than it is +now, slight, and free,) in the following one.</p> + +<p>79. Next, observe the distinction in respect of <i>thickness</i>, +no less than number, of lines which may properly be used in +the two methods.</p> + +<p>In metal engraving, it is easier to lay a fine line than a +thick one; and however fine the line may be, it lasts;—but +in wood engraving it requires extreme precision and skill to +leave a thin dark line, and when left, it will be quickly beaten +down by a careless printer. Therefore, the virtue of wood +engraving is to exhibit the qualities and power of <i>thick</i> lines;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +and of metal engraving, to exhibit the qualities and power of +<i>thin</i> ones.</p> + +<p>All thin dark lines, therefore, in wood, broadly speaking, +are to be used only in case of necessity; and thick lines, on +metal, only in case of necessity.</p> + +<p>80. Though, however, thin <i>dark</i> lines cannot easily be +produced in wood, thin <i>light</i> ones may be struck in an instant. +Nevertheless, even thin light ones must not be used, except +with extreme caution. For observe, they are equally useless +as outline, and for expression of mass. You know how far +from exemplary or delightful your boy's first quite voluntary +exercises in white line drawing on your slate were? +You could, indeed, draw a goblin satisfactorily in such +method;—a round O, with arms and legs to it, and a scratch +under two dots in the middle, would answer the purpose; +but if you wanted to draw a pretty face, you took pencil or +pen, and paper—not your slate. Now, that instinctive feeling +that a white outline is wrong, is deeply founded. For +Nature herself draws with diffused light, and concentrated +dark;—never, except in storm or twilight, with diffused +dark, and concentrated light; and the thing we all like best +to see drawn—the human face—cannot be drawn with white +touches, but by extreme labor. For the pupil and iris of the +eye, the eyebrow, the nostril, and the lip are all set in dark +on pale ground. You can't draw a white eyebrow, a white +pupil of the eye, a white nostril, and a white mouth, on a dark +ground. Try it, and see what a specter you get. But the +same number of dark touches, skillfully applied, will give the +idea of a beautiful face. And what is true of the subtlest +subject you have to represent, is equally true of inferior ones. +Nothing lovely can be quickly represented by white touches. +You must hew out, if your means are so restricted, the form +by sheer labor; and that both cunning and dextrous. The +Florentine masters, and Dürer, often practice the achievement, +and there are many drawings by the Lippis, Mantegna, +and other leading Italian draughtsmen, completed to great +perfection with the white line; but only for the sake of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +severest study, nor is their work imitable by inferior men. +And such studies, however accomplished, always mark a +disposition to regard chiaroscuro too much, and local color +too little.</p> + +<p>We conclude, then, that we must never trust, in wood, to +our power of outline with white; and our general laws, thus +far determined, will be—thick lines in wood; thin ones in +metal; complete drawing on wood; sketches, if we choose, on +metal.</p> + +<p>81. But why, in wood, lines at all? Why not cut out +white <i>spaces</i>, and use the chisel as if its incisions were so +much white paint? Many fine pieces of wood-cutting are +indeed executed on this principle. Bewick does nearly all +his foliage so; and continually paints the light plumes of +his birds with single touches of his chisel, as if he were laying +on white.</p> + +<p>But this is not the finest method of wood-cutting. It +implies the idea of a system of light and shade in which the +shadow is totally black. Now, no light and shade can be good, +much less pleasant, in which all the shade is stark black. +Therefore the finest wood-cutting ignores light and shade, +and expresses only form, and <i>dark local color</i>. And it is convenient, +for simplicity's sake, to anticipate what I should +otherwise defer telling you until next lecture, that fine +metal engraving, like fine wood-cutting, ignores light and +shade; and that, in a word, all good engraving whatsoever +does so.</p> + +<p>82. I hope that my saying so will make you eager to interrupt +me. 'What! Rembrandt's etchings, and Lupton's +mezzotints, and Le Keux's line-work,—do you mean to tell +us that these ignore light and shade?'</p> + +<p>I never said that <i>mezzotint</i> ignored light and shade, or +ought to do so. Mezzotint is properly to be considered as +chiaroscuro drawing on metal. But I do mean to tell you +that both Rembrandt's etchings, and Le Keux's finished line-work, +are misapplied labor, in so far as they regard chiar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>oscuro; +and that consummate engraving never uses it as a +primal element of pleasure.</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 493px;"> +<a id="Fig_2" name="Fig_2"></a> +<img src="images/image058.png" width="493" height="636" alt="THE LAST FURROW. (Fig. 2) Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">THE LAST FURROW.</p> +<p class="caption center">(Fig. 2) Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut.</p> +</div> + +<p>83. We have now got our principles so far defined that I +can proceed to illustration of them by example.</p> + +<p>Here are facsimiles, very marvelous ones,<a name="FNanchor_Q_17" id="FNanchor_Q_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_Q_17" class="fnanchor">[Q]</a> of two of the +best wood engravings ever produced by art,—two subjects +in Holbein's Dance of Death. You will probably like best +that I should at once proceed to verify my last and most +startling statement, that fine engraving disdained chiaroscuro.</p> + +<p>This vignette (Fig. 2) represents a sunset in the open +mountainous fields of southern Germany. And Holbein is +so entirely careless about the light and shade, which a +Dutchman would first have thought of, as resulting from the +sunset, that, as he works, he forgets altogether where his +light comes from. Here, actually, the shadow of the figure +is cast from the side, right across the picture, while the sun +is in front. And there is not the slightest attempt to indicate +gradation of light in the sky, darkness in the forest, or any +other positive element of chiaroscuro.</p> + +<p>This is not because Holbein cannot give chiaroscuro if he +chooses. He is twenty times a stronger master of it than +Rembrandt; but he, therefore, knows exactly when and how +to use it; and that wood engraving is not the proper means +for it. The quantity of it which is needful for his story, and +will not, by any sensational violence, either divert, or vulgarly +enforce, the attention, he will give; and that with an unrivaled +subtlety. Therefore I must ask you for a moment or +two to quit the subject of technics, and look what these two +woodcuts mean.</p> + +<p>84. The one I have first shown you is of a plowman +plowing at evening. It is Holbein's object, here, to express +the diffused and intense light of a golden summer sunset, so +far as is consistent with grander purposes. A modern French +or English chiaroscurist would have covered his sky with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +fleecy clouds, and relieved the plowman's hat and his horses +against it in strong black, and put sparkling touches on the +furrows and grass. Holbein scornfully casts all such tricks +aside; and draws the whole scene in pure white, with simple +outlines.</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 486px;"> +<a id="Fig_3" name="Fig_3"></a> +<img src="images/image061.png" width="486" height="616" alt="THE TWO PREACHERS. (Fig. 3) Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">THE TWO PREACHERS.</p> +<p class="caption center">(Fig. 3) Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut.</p> +</div> + + +<p>85. And yet, when I put it beside this second vignette, +(Fig. 3,) which is of a preacher preaching in a feebly lighted +church, you will feel that the diffused warmth of the one +subject, and diffused twilight in the other, are complete; +and they will finally be to you more impressive than if they +had been wrought out with every superficial means of effect, +on each block.</p> + +<p>For it is as a symbol, not as a scenic effect, that in each +case the chiaroscuro is given. Holbein, I said, is at the head +of the painter-reformers, and his Dance of Death is the most +energetic and telling of all the forms given, in this epoch, +to the <i>Rationalist</i> spirit of reform, preaching the new Gospel +of Death,—"It is no matter whether you are priest or layman, +what you believe, or what you do: here is the end." +You shall see, in the course of our inquiry, that Botticelli, +in like manner, represents the <i>Faithful</i> and <i>Catholic</i> temper +of reform.</p> + +<p>86. The teaching of Holbein is therefore always melancholy,—for +the most part purely rational; and entirely furious +in its indignation against all who, either by actual +injustice in this life, or by what he holds to be false promise +of another, destroy the good, or the energy, of the few days +which man has to live. Against the rich, the luxurious, the +Pharisee, the false lawyer, the priest, and the unjust judge, +Holbein uses his fiercest mockery; but he is never himself +unjust; never caricatures or equivocates; gives the facts as +he knows them, with explanatory symbols, few and clear.</p> + +<p>87. Among the powers which he hates, the pathetic and +ingenious preaching of untruth is one of the chief; and it is +curious to find his biographer, knowing this, and reasoning, +as German critics nearly always do, from acquired knowledge, +not perception, imagine instantly that he sees hypocrisy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +in the face of Holbein's preacher. "How skillfully," says +Dr. Woltmann, "is the preacher propounding his doctrines; +how thoroughly is his hypocrisy expressed in the features of +his countenance, and in the gestures of his hands." But look +at the cut yourself, candidly. I challenge you to find the +slightest trace of hypocrisy in either feature or gesture. +Holbein knew better. It is not the hypocrite who has +power in the pulpit. It is the <i>sincere</i> preacher of untruth +who does mischief there. The hypocrite's place of power +is in trade, or in general society; none but the sincere ever +get fatal influence in the pulpit. This man is a refined gentleman—ascetic, +earnest, thoughtful, and kind. He scarcely +uses the vantage even of his pulpit,—comes aside out of it, +as an eager man would, pleading; he is intent on being understood—<i>is</i> +understood; his congregation are delighted—you +might hear a pin drop among them: one is asleep indeed, +who cannot see him, (being under the pulpit,) and asleep +just because the teacher is as gentle as he is earnest, and +speaks quietly.</p> + +<p>88. How are we to know, then, that he speaks in vain? +First, because among all his hearers you will not find one +shrewd face. They are all either simple or stupid people: +there is one nice woman in front of all, (else Holbein's +representation had been caricature,) but she is not a shrewd +one.</p> + +<p>Secondly, by the light and shade. The church is not in +extreme darkness—far from that; a gray twilight is over +everything, but the sun is totally shut out of it;—not a ray +comes in even at the window—<i>that</i> is darker than the walls, +or vault.</p> + +<p>Lastly, and chiefly, by the mocking expression of Death. +Mocking, but not angry. The man has been preaching what +he thought true. Death laughs at him, but is not indignant +with him.</p> + +<p>Death comes quietly: <i>I</i> am going to be preacher now; here +is your own hour-glass, ready for me. You have spoken +many words in your day. But "of the things which you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +have spoken, <i>this</i> is the sum,"—your death-warrant, signed +and sealed. There's your text for to-day.</p> + +<p>89. Of this other picture, the meaning is more plain, and +far more beautiful. The husbandman is old and gaunt, and +has passed his days, not in speaking, but pressing the iron +into the ground. And the payment for his life's work is, that +he is clothed in rags, and his feet are bare on the clods; and +he has no hat—but the brim of a hat only, and his long, +unkempt gray hair comes through. But all the air is full of +warmth and of peace; and, beyond his village church, there +is, at last, light indeed. His horses lag in the furrow, and his +own limbs totter and fail: but one comes to help him. 'It is +a long field,' says Death; 'but we'll get to the end of it +to-day,—you and I.'</p> + +<p>90. And now that we know the meaning, we are able to +discuss the technical qualities farther.</p> + +<p>Both of these engravings, you will find, are executed with +blunt lines; but more than that, they are executed with quiet +lines, entirely steady.</p> + +<p>Now, here I have in my hand a lively woodcut of the +present day—a good average type of the modern style of +wood-cutting, which you will all recognize.<a name="FNanchor_R_18" id="FNanchor_R_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_R_18" class="fnanchor">[R]</a></p> + +<p>The shade in this is drawn on the wood, (not <i>cut</i>, but +drawn, observe,) at the rate of at least ten lines in a second: +Holbein's, at the rate of about one line in three seconds.<a name="FNanchor_S_19" id="FNanchor_S_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_S_19" class="fnanchor">[S]</a></p> + +<p>91. Now there are two different matters to be considered +with respect to these two opposed methods of execution. The +first, that the rapid work, though easy to the artist, is very +difficult to the wood-cutter; so that it implies instantly a separation +between the two crafts, and that your wood-cutter has +ceased to be a draughtsman. I shall return to this point. I +wish to insist on the other first; namely, the effect of the +more deliberate method on the drawing itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>92. When the hand moves at the rate of ten lines in a +second, it is indeed under the government of the muscles of +the wrist and shoulder; but it cannot possibly be under the +complete government of the brains. I am able to do this +zigzag line evenly, because I have got the use of the hand +from practice; and the faster it is done, the evener it will be. +But I have no mental authority over every line I thus lay: +chance regulates them. Whereas, when I draw at the rate of +two or three seconds to each line, my hand disobeys the muscles +a little—the mechanical accuracy is not so great; nay, +there ceases to be any <i>appearance</i> of dexterity at all. But +there is, in reality, more manual skill required in the slow +work than in the swift,—and all the while the hand is +thoroughly under the orders of the brains. Holbein deliberately +resolves, for every line, as it goes along, that it shall +be so thick, so far from the next,—that it shall begin here, +and stop there. And he is deliberately assigning the utmost +quantity of meaning to it, that a line will carry.</p> + +<p>93. It is not fair, however, to compare common work of +one age with the best of another. Here is a woodcut of +Tenniel's, which I think contains as high qualities as it is +possible to find in modern art.<a name="FNanchor_T_20" id="FNanchor_T_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_T_20" class="fnanchor">[T]</a> I hold it as beyond others +fine, because there is not the slightest caricature in it. No +face, no attitude, is pushed beyond the degree of natural +humor they would have possessed in life; and in precision of +momentary expression, the drawing is equal to the art of +any time, and shows power which would, if regulated, be +quite adequate to producing an immortal work.</p> + +<p>94. Why, then, is it <i>not</i> immortal? You yourselves, in +compliance with whose demand it was done, forgot it the next +week. It will become historically interesting; but no man +of true knowledge and feeling will ever keep this in his +cabinet of treasure, as he does these woodcuts of Holbein's.</p> + +<p>The reason is that this is base coin,—alloyed gold. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +<i>is</i> gold in it, but also a quantity of brass and lead—willfully +added—to make it fit for the public. Holbein's is beaten +gold, seven times tried in the fire. Of which commonplace +but useful metaphor the meaning here is, first, that to catch +the vulgar eye a quantity of,—so-called,—light and shade is +added by Tenniel. It is effective to an ignorant eye, and is +ingeniously disposed; but it is entirely conventional and +false, unendurable by any person who knows what chiaroscuro +is.</p> + +<p>Secondly, for one line that Holbein lays, Tenniel has a +dozen. There are, for instance, a hundred and fifty-seven +lines in Sir Peter Teazle's wig, without counting dots and +slight cross-hatching;—but the entire face and flowing hair +of Holbein's preacher are done with forty-five lines, all told.</p> + +<p>95. Now observe what a different state of mind the two +artists must be in on such conditions;—one, never in a hurry, +never doing anything that he knows is wrong; never doing +a line badly that he can do better; and appealing only to the +feelings of sensitive persons, and the judgment of attentive +ones. That is Holbein's habit of soul. What is the habit +of soul of every modern engraver? Always in a hurry; everywhere +doing things which he knows to be wrong—(Tenniel +knows his light and shade to be wrong as well as I do)—continually +doing things badly which he was able to do better; +and appealing exclusively to the feelings of the dull, and the +judgment of the inattentive.</p> + +<p>Do you suppose that is not enough to make the difference +between mortal and immortal art,—the original genius being +supposed alike in both?<a name="FNanchor_U_21" id="FNanchor_U_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_U_21" class="fnanchor">[U]</a></p> + +<p>96. Thus far of the state of the artist himself. I pass, next +to the relation between him and his subordinate, the wood-cutter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>The modern artist requires him to cut a hundred and fifty-seven +lines in the wig only,—the old artist requires him to +cut forty-five for the face, and long hair, altogether. The +actual proportion is roughly, and on the average, about one +to twenty of cost in manual labor, ancient to modern,—the +twentieth part of the mechanical labor, to produce an immortal +instead of a perishable work,—the twentieth part of the +labor; and—which is the greatest difference of all—that +twentieth part, at once less mechanically difficult, and more +mentally pleasant. Mr. Otley, in his general History of +Engraving, says, "The greatest difficulty in wood engraving +occurs in clearing out the minute quadrangular lights;" and +in any modern woodcut you will see that where the lines +of the drawing cross each other to produce shade, the white +interstices are cut out so neatly that there is no appearance +of any jag or break in the lines; they look exactly as if they +had been drawn with a pen. It is chiefly difficult to cut the +pieces clearly out when the lines cross at right angles; easier +when they form oblique or diamond-shaped interstices; but +in any case some half-dozen cuts, and in square crossings as +many as twenty, are required to clear one interstice. Therefore +if I carelessly draw six strokes with my pen across other +six, I produce twenty-five interstices, each of which will need +at least six, perhaps twenty, careful touches of the burin to +clear out.—Say ten for an average; and I demand two hundred +and fifty exquisitely precise touches from my engraver, +to render ten careless ones of mine.</p> + +<p>97. Now I take up Punch, at his best. The whole of the +left side of John Bull's waistcoat—the shadow on his knee-breeches +and great-coat—the whole of the Lord Chancellor's +gown, and of John Bull's and Sir Peter Teazle's complexions, +are worked with finished precision of cross-hatching. +These have indeed some purpose in their texture; but in the +most wanton and gratuitous way, the wall below the window +is cross-hatched too, and that not with a double, but a treble +line (Fig. 4).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>There are about thirty of these columns, with thirty-five +interstices each: approximately, 1,050—certainly not fewer—interstices +to be deliberately cut clear, +to get that two inches square of shadow. +Now calculate—or think enough to +feel the impossibility of calculating—the +number of woodcuts used daily for +our popular prints, and how many men +are night and day cutting 1,050 square +holes to the square inch, as the occupation +of their manly life. And Mrs. Beecher Stowe and the +North Americans fancy they have abolished slavery!</p> + + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 152px;"> +<a id="Fig_4" name="Fig_4"></a> +<img src="images/image068.png" width="152" height="138" alt="Fig. 4. A lattice of intersecting lines" title="" /> +<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig. 4.</span></span> +</div> + +<p>98. The workman cannot have even the consolation of +pride; for his task, even in its finest accomplishment, is not +really difficult,—only tedious. When you have once got into +the practice, it is as easy as lying. To cut regular holes +<span class="smcap">without</span> a purpose is easy enough; but to cut <i>ir</i>regular holes +<span class="smcap">with</span> a purpose, that is difficult, forever;—no tricks of tool +or trade will give you power to do that.</p> + +<p>The supposed difficulty—the thing which, at all events, +it takes time to learn, is to cut the interstices neat, and each +like the other. But is there any reason, do you suppose, for +their being neat, and each like the other? So far from it, +they would be twenty times prettier if they were irregular, +and each different from the other. And an old wood-cutter, +instead of taking pride in cutting these interstices smooth +and alike, resolutely cuts them rough and irregular; taking +care, at the same time, never to have any more than are +wanted, this being only one part of the general system of +intelligent manipulation, which made so good an artist of the +engraver that it is impossible to say of any standard old woodcut, +whether the draughtsman engraved it himself or not. +I should imagine, from the character and subtlety of the +touch, that every line of the Dance of Death had been +engraved by Holbein; we know it was not, and that there can +be no certainty given by even the finest pieces of wood execution +of anything more than perfect harmony between the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +designer and workman. And consider how much this harmony +demands in the latter. Not that the modern engraver +is unintelligent in applying his mechanical skill: very often +he greatly improves the drawing; but we never could mistake +his hand for Holbein's.</p> + +<p>99. The true merit, then, of wood execution, as regards +this matter of cross-hatching, is first that there be no more +crossing than necessary; secondly, that all the interstices be +various, and rough. You may look through the entire series +of the Dance of Death without finding any cross-hatching +whatever, except in a few unimportant bits of background, +so rude as to need scarcely more than one touch to each +interstice. Albert Dürer crosses more definitely; but yet, in +any fold of his drapery, every white spot differs in size from +every other, and the arrangement of the whole is delightful, +by the kind of variety which the spots on a leopard have.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, where either expression or form can +be rendered by the shape of the lights and darks, the old +engraver becomes as careful as in an ordinary ground he is +careless.</p> + +<p>The endeavor, with your own hand, and common pen and +ink, to copy a small piece of either of the two Holbein woodcuts +(Figures <a href="#Fig_2">2</a> and <a href="#Fig_3">3</a>) will prove this to you better than any +words.</p> + +<p>100. I said that, had Tenniel been rightly trained, there +might have been the making of a Holbein, or nearly a Holbein, +in him. I do not know; but I can turn from his work to +that of a man who was not trained at all, and who was, +without training, Holbein's equal.</p> + +<p>Equal, in the sense that this brown stone, in my left hand, +is the equal, though not the likeness, of that in my right. +They are both of the same true and pure crystal; but the one +is brown with iron, and never touched by forming hand; +the other has never been in rough companionship, and has +been exquisitely polished. So with these two men. The one +was the companion of Erasmus and Sir Thomas More. His +father was so good an artist that you cannot always tell their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +drawings asunder. But the other was a farmer's son; and +learned his trade in the back shops of Newcastle.</p> + +<p>Yet the first book I asked you to get was his biography; +and in this frame are set together a drawing by Hans Holbein, +and one by Thomas Bewick. I know which is most scholarly; +but I do <i>not</i> know which is best.</p> + +<p><a id="Sect_101" name="Sect_101"></a>101. It is much to say for the self-taught Englishman;—yet +do not congratulate yourselves on his simplicity. I +told you, a little while since, that the English nobles had left +the history of birds to be written, and their spots to be drawn, +by a printer's lad;—but I did not tell you their farther loss +in the fact that this printer's lad could have written their own +histories, and drawn their own spots, if they had let him. +But they had no history to be written; and were too closely +maculate to be portrayed;—white ground in most places +altogether obscured. Had there been Mores and Henrys +to draw, Bewick could have drawn them; and would have +found his function. As it was, the nobles of his day left +him to draw the frogs, and pigs, and sparrows—of his day, +which seemed to him, in his solitude, the best types of its +Nobility. No sight or thought of beautiful things was ever +granted him;—no heroic creature, goddess-born—how much +less any native Deity—ever shone upon him. To his utterly +English mind, the straw of the sty, and its tenantry, were +abiding truth;—the cloud of Olympus, and its tenantry, a +child's dream. He could draw a pig, but not an Aphrodite.</p> + +<p>102. The three pieces of woodcut from his Fables (the +two lower ones enlarged) in the opposite plate, show his +utmost strength and utmost rudeness. I must endeavor to +make you thoroughly understand both:—the magnificent +artistic power, the flawless virtue, veracity, tenderness,—the +infinite humor of the man; and yet the difference between +England and Florence, in the use they make of such gifts +in their children.</p> + +<p>For the moment, however, I confine myself to the examination +of technical points; and we must follow our former +conclusions a little further.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 290px;"> +<a id="Plate_I" name="Plate_I"></a> +<img src="images/image071.png" width="290" height="685" alt="I. Things Celestial and Terrestrial, as apparent +to the English Mind." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">I.</p> +<p class="caption center">Things Celestial and Terrestrial, as apparent +to the English Mind.</p> +</div> + +<p>103. Because our lines in wood must be thick, it becomes +an extreme virtue in wood engraving to economize lines,—not +merely, as in all other art, to save time and power, but +because, our lines being necessarily blunt, we must make up +our minds to do with fewer, by many, than are in the object. +But is this necessarily a disadvantage?</p> + +<p><i>Absolutely</i>, an immense disadvantage,—a woodcut never +can be so beautiful or good a thing as a painting, or line +engraving. But in its own separate and useful way, an +excellent thing, because, practiced rightly, it exercises in the +artist, and summons in you, the habit of abstraction; that +is to say, of deciding what are the essential points in the +things you see, and seizing these; a habit entirely necessary +to strong humanity; and so natural to all humanity, that it +leads, in its indolent and undisciplined states, to all the vulgar +amateur's liking of sketches better than pictures. The sketch +seems to put the thing for him into a concentrated and exciting +form.</p> + +<p>104. Observe, therefore, to guard you from this error, +that a bad sketch is good for nothing; and that nobody can +make a good sketch unless they generally are trying to finish +with extreme care. But the abstraction of the essential +particulars in his subject by a line-master, has a peculiar +didactic value. For painting, when it is complete, leaves it +much to your own judgment what to look at; and, if you are +a fool, you look at the wrong thing;—but in a fine woodcut, +the master says to you, "You <i>shall</i> look at this, or at nothing."</p> + +<p>105. For example, here is a little tailpiece of Bewick's, +to the fable of the Frogs and the Stork.<a name="FNanchor_V_22" id="FNanchor_V_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_V_22" class="fnanchor">[V]</a> He is, as I told +you, as stout a reformer as Holbein,<a name="FNanchor_W_23" id="FNanchor_W_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_W_23" class="fnanchor">[W]</a> or Botticelli, or Luther, +or Savonarola; and, as an impartial reformer, hits right and +left, at lower or upper classes, if he sees them wrong. Most +frequently, he strikes at vice, without reference to class; but +in this vignette he strikes definitely at the degradation of +the viler popular mind which is incapable of being governed, +because it cannot understand the nobleness of kingship. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +has written—better than written, engraved, sure to suffer no +slip of type—his legend under the drawing; so that we know +his meaning:</p> + +<p>"Set them up with a king, indeed!"</p> + +<p>106. There is an audience of seven frogs, listening to a +speaker, or croaker, in the middle; and Bewick has set himself +to show in all, but especially in the speaker, essential +frogginess of mind—the marsh temper. He could not have +done it half so well in painting as he has done by the abstraction +of wood-outline. The characteristic of a manly mind, +or body, is to be gentle in temper, and firm in constitution; +the contrary essence of a froggy mind and body is to be +angular in temper, and flabby in constitution. I have +enlarged Bewick's orator-frog for you, Plate I. c., and I +think you will feel that he is entirely expressed in those +essential particulars.</p> + +<p>This being perfectly good wood-cutting, notice especially +its deliberation. No scrawling or scratching, or cross-hatching, +or '<i>free</i>' work of any sort. Most deliberate laying +down of solid lines and dots, of which you cannot change one. +The real difficulty of wood engraving is to cut every one of +these black lines or spaces of the exactly right shape, and not +at all to cross-hatch them cleanly.</p> + +<p>107. Next, examine the technical treatment of the pig, +above. I have purposely chosen this as an example of a white +object on dark ground, and the frog as a dark object on light +ground, to explain to you what I mean by saying that fine +engraving regards local color, but not light and shade. You +see both frog and pig are absolutely without light and shade. +The frog, indeed, casts a shadow; but his hind leg is as white +as his throat. In the pig you don't even know which way the +light falls. But you know at once that the pig is white, and +the frog brown or green.</p> + +<p>108. There are, however, two pieces of chiaroscuro <i>implied</i> +in the treatment of the pig. It is assumed that his curly tail +would be light against the background—dark against his own +rump. This little piece of heraldic quartering is absolutely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +necessary to solidify him. He would have been a white +ghost of a pig, flat on the background, but for that alternative +tail, and the bits of dark behind the ears. Secondly: +Where the shade is necessary to suggest the position of his +ribs, it is given with graphic and chosen points of dark, as +few as possible; not for the sake of the shade at all, but of +the skin and bone.</p> + +<p>109. That, then, being the law of refused chiaroscuro, +observe further the method of outline. We said that we +were to have thick lines in wood, if possible. Look what +thickness of black outline Bewick has left under our pig's +chin, and above his nose.</p> + +<p>But that is not a line at all, you think?</p> + +<p>No;—a modern engraver would have made it one, and +prided himself on getting it fine. Bewick leaves it actually +thicker than the snout, but puts all his ingenuity of touch to +vary the forms, and break the extremities of his white cuts, +so that the eye may be refreshed and relieved by new forms +at every turn. The group of white touches filling the space +between snout and ears might be a wreath of fine-weather +clouds, so studiously are they grouped and broken.</p> + +<p>And nowhere, you see, does a single black line cross another.</p> + +<p>Look back to <a href="#Fig_4">Figure 4, page 54</a>, and you will know, henceforward, +the difference between good and bad wood-cutting.</p> + +<p>110. We have also, in the lower woodcut, a notable instance +of Bewick's power of abstraction. You will observe that one +of the chief characters of this frog, which makes him humorous,—next +to his vain endeavor to get some firmness into his +fore feet,—is his obstinately angular hump-back. And you +must feel, when you see it so marked, how important a +general character of a frog it is to have a hump-back,—not +at the shoulders, but the loins.</p> + +<p>111. Here, then, is a case in which you will see the exact +function that anatomy should take in art.</p> + +<p>All the most scientific anatomy in the world would never +have taught Bewick, much less you, how to draw a frog.</p> + +<p>But when once you <i>have</i> drawn him, or looked at him, so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +as to know his points, it then becomes entirely interesting +to find out <i>why</i> he has a hump-back. So I went myself +yesterday to Professor Rolleston for a little anatomy, just +as I should have gone to Professor Phillips for a little +geology; and the Professor brought me a fine little active +frog; and we put him on the table, and made him jump all +over it, and then the Professor brought in a charming Squelette +of a frog, and showed me that he needed a projecting +bone from his rump, as a bird needs it from its breast,—the +one to attach the strong muscles of the hind legs, as the other +to attach those of the fore legs or wings. So that the entire +leaping power of the frog is in his hump-back, as the flying +power of the bird is in its breast-bone. And thus this Frog +Parliament is most literally a Rump Parliament—everything +depending on the hind legs, and nothing on the +brains; which makes it wonderfully like some other Parliaments +we know of nowadays, with Mr. Ayrton and Mr. Lowe +for their æsthetic and acquisitive eyes, and a rump of Railway +Directors.</p> + +<p>112. Now, to conclude, for want of time only—I have but +touched on the beginning of my subject,—understand clearly +and finally this simple principle of all art, that the best is that +which realizes absolutely, if possible. Here is a viper by Carpaccio: +you are afraid to go near it. Here is an arm-chair by +Carpaccio: you who came in late, and are standing, to my regret, +would like to sit down in it. This is consummate art; +but you can only have that with consummate means, and +exquisitely trained and hereditary mental power.</p> + +<p>With inferior means, and average mental power, you must +be content to give a rude abstraction; but if rude abstraction +<i>is</i> to be made, think what a difference there must be between +a wise man's and a fool's; and consider what heavy responsibility +lies upon you in your youth, to determine, among realities, +by what you will be delighted, and, among imaginations, +by whose you will be led.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Q_17" id="Footnote_Q_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Q_17"><span class="label">[Q]</span></a> By Mr. Burgess. The toil and skill necessary to produce a facsimile +of this degree of precision will only be recognized by the reader +who has had considerable experience of actual work.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_R_18" id="Footnote_R_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_R_18"><span class="label">[R]</span></a> The ordinary title-page of Punch.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_S_19" id="Footnote_S_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_S_19"><span class="label">[S]</span></a> In the lecture-room, the relative rates of execution were shown; +I arrive at this estimate by timing the completion of two small pieces +of shade in the two methods.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_T_20" id="Footnote_T_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_T_20"><span class="label">[T]</span></a> John Bull, as Sir Oliver Surface, with Sir Peter Teazle and Joseph +Surface. It appeared in Punch, early in 1863.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_U_21" id="Footnote_U_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_U_21"><span class="label">[U]</span></a> In preparing these passages for the press, I feel perpetual need of +qualifications and limitations, for it is impossible to surpass the humor, +or precision of expressional touch, in the really golden parts of Tenniel's +works; and they <i>may</i> be immortal, as representing what is best +in their day.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_V_22" id="Footnote_V_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_V_22"><span class="label">[V]</span></a> From Bewick's Æsop's Fables.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_W_23" id="Footnote_W_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_W_23"><span class="label">[W]</span></a> See <i>ante</i>, <a href="#Sect_43">§ 43</a>.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="LECTURE_IV" id="LECTURE_IV"></a>LECTURE IV.</h2> + +<h3>THE TECHNICS OF METAL ENGRAVING.</h3> + + +<p>113. We are to-day to examine the proper methods for the +technical management of the most perfect of the arms of precision +possessed by the artist. For you will at once understand +that a line cut by a finely-pointed instrument upon the +smooth surface of metal is susceptible of the utmost fineness +that can be given to the <i>definite</i> work of the human hand. In +drawing with pen upon paper, the surface of the paper is +slightly rough; necessarily, two points touch it instead of one, +and the liquid flows from them more or less irregularly, whatever +the draughtsman's skill. But you cut a metallic surface +with one edge only; the furrow drawn by a skater on the surface +of ice is like it on a large scale. Your surface is polished, +and your line may be wholly faultless, if your hand is.</p> + +<p>114. And because, in such material, effects may be produced +which no penmanship could rival, most people, I fancy, +think that a steel plate half engraves itself; that the workman +has no trouble with it, compared to that of a pen draughtsman.</p> + +<p>To test your feeling in this matter accurately, here is a +manuscript book written with pen and ink, and illustrated +with flourishes and vignettes.</p> + +<p>You will all, I think, be disposed, on examining it, to exclaim, +How wonderful! and even to doubt the possibility of +every page in the book being completed in the same manner. +Again, here are three of my own drawings, executed with the +pen, and Indian ink, when I was fifteen. They are copies +from large lithographs by Prout; and I imagine that most of +my pupils would think me very tyrannical if I requested<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +them to do anything of the kind themselves. And yet, when +you see in the shop windows a line engraving like this,<a href="#Footnote_X_24" class="fnanchor">[X]</a> or +this,<a name="FNanchor_X_24" id="FNanchor_X_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_X_24" class="fnanchor">[X]</a> either of which contains, alone, as much work as fifty +pages of the manuscript book, or fifty such drawings as mine, +you look upon its effect as quite a matter of course,—you +never say 'how wonderful' <i>that</i> is, nor consider how you +would like to have to live, by producing anything of the same +kind yourselves.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<a id="Plate_II" name="Plate_II"></a> +<img src="images/image079.png" width="550" height="392" alt="II. The Star of FLORENCE." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">II.</p> +<p class="caption center">The Star of FLORENCE.</p> +</div> + +<p>115. Yet you cannot suppose it is in reality easier to draw +a line with a cutting point, not seeing the effect at all, or, if +any effect, seeing a gleam of light instead of darkness, than +to draw your black line at once on the white paper? You +cannot really think<a name="FNanchor_Y_25" id="FNanchor_Y_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_Y_25" class="fnanchor">[Y]</a> that there is something complacent, sympathetic, +and helpful in the nature of steel; so that while a +pen-and-ink sketch may always be considered an achievement +proving cleverness in the sketcher, a sketch on steel comes out +by mere favor of the indulgent metal; or that the plate is +woven like a piece of pattern silk, and the pattern is developed +by pasteboard cards punched full of holes? Not so. Look +close at this engraving, or take a smaller and simpler one, +Turner's Mercury and Argus,—imagine it to be a drawing in +pen and ink, and yourself required similarly to produce its +parallel! True, the steel point has the one advantage of not +blotting, but it has tenfold or twentyfold disadvantage, in that +you cannot slur, nor efface, except in a very resolute and laborious +way, nor play with it, nor even see what you are doing +with it at the moment, far less the effect that is to be. You +must <i>feel</i> what you are doing with it, and know precisely what +you have got to do; how deep, how broad, how far apart your +lines must be, etc. and etc., (a couple of lines of etceteras +would not be enough to imply all you must know). But sup<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>pose +the plate <i>were</i> only a pen drawing: take your pen—your +finest—and just try to copy the leaves that entangle the head +of Io, and her head itself; remembering always that the kind +of work required here is mere child's play compared to that +of fine figure engraving. Nevertheless, take a small magnifying +glass to this—count the dots and lines that gradate the +nostrils and the edges of the facial bone; notice how the light +is left on the top of the head by the stopping, at its outline, +of the coarse touches which form the shadows under the +leaves; examine it well, and then—I humbly ask of you—try +to do a piece of it yourself! You clever sketcher—you +young lady or gentleman of genius—you eye-glassed dilettante—you +current writer of criticism royally plural,—I beseech +you,—do it yourself; do the merely etched outline yourself, +if no more. Look you,—you hold your etching needle +this way, as you would a pencil, nearly; and then,—you +scratch with it! it is as easy as lying. Or if you think that +too difficult, take an easier piece;—take either of the light +sprays of foliage that rise against the fortress on the right, +pass your lens over them—look how their fine outline is first +drawn, leaf by leaf; then how the distant rock is put in between, +with broken lines, mostly stopping before they touch +the leaf-outline; and again, I pray you, do it yourself,—if +not on that scale, on a larger. Go on into the hollows of the +distant rock,—traverse its thickets,—number its towers;—count +how many lines there are in a laurel bush—in an arch—in +a casement; some hundred and fifty, or two hundred, deliberately +drawn lines, you will find, in every square quarter +of an inch;—say <i>three thousand to the inch</i>,—each, with +skillful intent, put in its place! and then consider what the +ordinary sketcher's work must appear, to the men who have +been trained to this!</p> + +<p>116. "But might not more have been done by three thousand +lines to a square inch?" you will perhaps ask. Well, +possibly. It may be with lines as with soldiers: three hundred, +knowing their work thoroughly, may be stronger than +three thousand less sure of their aim. We shall have to press<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +close home this question about numbers and purpose presently;—it +is not the question now. Suppose certain results +required,—atmospheric effects, surface textures, transparencies +of shade, confusions of light,—then, more could <i>not</i> be +done with less. There are engravings of this modern school, +of which, with respect to their particular aim, it may be said, +most truly, they "cannot be better done."</p> + +<p>Here is one just finished,—or, at least, finished to the eyes +of ordinary mortals, though its fastidious master means to +retouch it;—a quite pure line engraving, by Mr. Charles +Henry Jeens; (in calling it pure line, I mean that there +are no mixtures of mezzotint or any mechanical tooling, +but all is steady hand-work,) from a picture by Mr. Armytage, +which, without possessing any of the highest claims to +admiration, is yet free from the vulgar vices which disgrace +most of our popular religious art; and is so sweet in the fancy +of it as to deserve, better than many works of higher power, +the pains of the engraver to make it a common possession. It +is meant to help us to imagine the evening of the day when +the father and mother of Christ had been seeking Him +through Jerusalem: they have come to a well where women +are drawing water; St. Joseph passes on,—but the tired Madonna, +leaning on the well's margin, asks wistfully of the +women if they have seen such and such a child astray. Now +will you just look for a while into the lines by which the expression +of the weary and anxious face is rendered; see how +unerring they are,—how calm and clear; and think how many +questions have to be determined in drawing the most minute +portion of any one,—its curve,—its thickness,—its distance +from the next,—its own preparation for ending, invisibly, +where it ends. Think what the precision must be in these +that trace the edge of the lip, and make it look quivering with +disappointment, or in these which have made the eyelash +heavy with restrained tears.</p> + +<p>117. Or if, as must be the case with many of my audience, +it is impossible for you to conceive the difficulties here overcome, +look merely at the draperies, and other varied sub<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>stances +represented in the plate; see how silk, and linen, and +stone, and pottery, and flesh, are all separated in texture, and +gradated in light, by the most subtle artifices and appliances +of line,—of which artifices, and the nature of the mechanical +labor throughout, I must endeavor to give you to-day a more +distinct conception than you are in the habit of forming. +But as I shall have to blame some of these methods in their +general result, and I do not wish any word of general blame +to be associated with this most excellent and careful plate by +Mr. Jeens, I will pass, for special examination, to one already +in your reference series, which for the rest exhibits +more various treatment in its combined landscape, background, +and figures; the Belle Jardinière of Raphael, drawn +and engraved by the Baron Desnoyers.</p> + +<p>You see, in the first place, that the ground, stones, and +other coarse surfaces are distinguished from the flesh and +draperies by broken and wriggled lines. Those broken lines +cannot be executed with the burin, they are etched in the +early states of the plate, and are a modern artifice, never used +by old engravers; partly because the older men were not masters +of the art of etching, but chiefly because even those who +were acquainted with it would not employ lines of this nature. +They have been developed by the importance of landscape +in modern engraving, and have produced some valuable +results in small plates, especially of architecture. But they +are entirely erroneous in principle, for the surface of stones +and leaves is not broken or jagged in this manner, but consists +of mossy, or blooming, or otherwise organic texture, which +cannot be represented by these coarse lines; their general consequence +has therefore been to withdraw the mind of the observer +from all beautiful and tender characters in foreground, +and eventually to destroy the very school of landscape engraving +which gave birth to them.</p> + +<p>Considered, however, as a means of relieving more delicate +textures, they are in some degree legitimate, being, in +fact, a kind of chasing or jagging one part of the plate surface +in order to throw out the delicate tints from the rough field.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +But the same effect was produced with less pains, and far +more entertainment to the eye, by the older engravers, who +employed purely ornamental variations of line; thus in <a href="#Plate_IV">Plate +IV.</a>, opposite § 137, the drapery is sufficiently distinguished +from the grass by the treatment of the latter as an ornamental +arabesque. The grain of wood is elaborately engraved by +Marc Antonio, with the same purpose, in the plate given in +your Standard Series.</p> + +<p>118. Next, however, you observe what difference of texture +and force exists between the smooth, continuous lines themselves, +which are all really <i>engraved</i>. You must take some +pains to understand the nature of this operation.</p> + +<p>The line is first cut lightly through its whole course, by +absolute decision and steadiness of hand, which you may +endeavor to imitate if you like, in its simplest phase, by +drawing a circle with your compass-pen; and then, grasping +your penholder so that you can push the point like a plow, +describing other circles inside or outside of it, in exact +parallelism with the mathematical line, and at exactly equal +distances. To approach, or depart, with your point at finely +gradated intervals, may be your next exercise, if you find +the first unexpectedly easy.</p> + +<p>119. When the line is thus described in its proper course, +it is plowed deeper, where depth is needed, by a second +cut of the burin, first on one side, then on the other, the cut +being given with gradated force so as to take away most steel +where the line is to be darkest. Every line of gradated depth +in the plate has to be thus cut eight or ten times over at +least, with retouchings to smooth and clear all in the close. +Jason has to plow his field ten-furrow deep, with his fiery +oxen well in hand, all the while.</p> + +<p>When the essential lines are thus produced in their several +directions, those which have been drawn across each other, +so as to give depth of shade, or richness of texture, have +to be farther enriched by dots in the interstices; else there +would be a painful appearance of network everywhere; and +these dots require each four or five jags to produce them; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +each of these jags must be done with what artists and engravers +alike call 'feeling,'—the sensibility, that is, of a hand +completely under mental government. So wrought, the dots +look soft, and like touches of paint; but mechanically dug +in, they are vulgar and hard.</p> + +<p>120. Now, observe, that, for every piece of shadow throughout +the work, the engraver has to decide with what quantity +and kind of line he will produce it. Exactly the same +quantity of black, and therefore the same depth of tint in +general effect, may be given with six thick lines; or with +twelve, of half their thickness; or with eighteen, of a third +of the thickness. The second six, second twelve, or second +eighteen, may cross the first six, first twelve, or first eighteen, +or go between them; and they may cross at any angle. And +then the third six may be put between the first six, or +between the second six, or across both, and at any angle. In +the network thus produced, any kind of dots may be put in +the severally shaped interstices. And for any of the series +of superadded lines, dots, of equivalent value in shade, may +be substituted. (Some engravings are wrought in dots +altogether.) Choice infinite, with multiplication of infinity, +is, at all events, to be made, for every minute space, from one +side of the plate to the other.</p> + +<p>121. The excellence of a beautiful engraving is primarily +in the use of these resources to exhibit the qualities of the +original picture, with delight to the eye in the method of translation; +and the language of engraving, when once you begin +to understand it, is, in these respects, so fertile, so ingenious, +so ineffably subtle and severe in its grammar, that you may +quite easily make it the subject of your life's investigation, +as you would the scholarship of a lovely literature.</p> + +<p>But in doing this, you would withdraw, and necessarily +withdraw, your attention from the higher qualities of art, precisely +as a grammarian, who is that, and nothing more, loses +command of the matter and substance of thought. And the +exquisitely mysterious mechanisms of the engraver's method +have, in fact, thus entangled the intelligence of the careful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +draughtsmen of Europe; so that since the final perfection of +this translator's power, all the men of finest patience and +finest hand have stayed content with it;—the subtlest +draughtsmanship has perished from the canvas,<a name="FNanchor_Z_26" id="FNanchor_Z_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_Z_26" class="fnanchor">[Z]</a> and sought +more popular praise in this labyrinth of disciplined language, +and more or less dulled or degraded thought. And, +in sum, I know no cause more direct or fatal, in the destruction +of the great schools of European art, than the perfectness +of modern line engraving.</p> + +<p>122. This great and profoundly to be regretted influence I +will prove and illustrate to you on another occasion. My +object to-day is to explain the perfectness of the art itself; +and above all to request you, if you will not look at pictures +instead of photographs, at least not to allow the cheap merits +of the chemical operation to withdraw your interest from the +splendid human labor of the engraver. Here is a little +vignette from Stothard, for instance, in Rogers' poems, to +the lines,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Soared in the swing, half pleased and half afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Neath sister elms, that waved their summer shade."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>You would think, would you not? (and rightly,) that of all +difficult things to express with crossed black lines and dots, +the face of a young girl must be the most difficult. Yet here +you have the face of a bright girl, radiant in light, transparent, +mysterious, almost breathing,—her dark hair involved +in delicate wreath and shade, her eyes full of joy and sweet +playfulness,—and all this done by the exquisite order and +gradation of a very few lines, which, if you will examine +them through a lens, you find dividing and checkering the +lip, and cheek, and chin, so strongly that you would have +fancied they could only produce the effect of a grim iron +mask. But the intelligences of order and form guide them +into beauty, and inflame them with delicatest life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>123. And do you see the size of this head? About as +large as the bud of a forget-me-not! Can you imagine the +fineness of the little pressures of the hand on the steel, in that +space, which at the edge of the almost invisible lip, fashioned +its less or more of smile?</p> + +<p>My chemical friends, if you wish ever to know anything +rightly concerning the arts, I very urgently advise you to +throw all your vials and washes down the gutter-trap; and +if you will ascribe, as you think it so clever to do, in your +modern creeds, all virtue to the sun, use that virtue through +your own heads and fingers, and apply your solar energies +to draw a skillful line or two, for once or twice in your life. +You may learn more by trying to engrave, like Goodall, the +tip of an ear, or the curl of a lock of hair, than by photographing +the entire population of the United States of America,—black, +white, and neutral-tint.</p> + +<p>And one word, by the way, touching the complaints I +hear at my having set you to so fine work that it hurts your +eyes. You have noticed that all great sculptors—and most of +the great painters of Florence—began by being goldsmiths. +Why do you think the goldsmith's apprenticeship is so fruitful? +Primarily, because it forces the boy to do small work, +and mind what he is about. Do you suppose Michael Angelo +learned his business by dashing or hitting at it? He laid +the foundation of all his after power by doing precisely what +I am requiring my own pupils to do,—copying German +engravings in facsimile! And for your eyes—you all sit up +at night till you haven't got any eyes worth speaking of. Go +to bed at half-past nine, and get up at four, and you'll see +something out of them, in time.</p> + +<p>124. Nevertheless, whatever admiration you may be +brought to feel, and with justice, for this lovely workmanship,—the +more distinctly you comprehend its merits, the more +distinctly also will the question rise in your mind, How is +it that a performance so marvelous has yet taken no rank +in the records of art of any permanent or acknowledged kind?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +How is it that these vignettes from Stothard and Turner,<a name="FNanchor_AA_27" id="FNanchor_AA_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_AA_27" class="fnanchor">[AA]</a> +like the woodcuts from Tenniel, scarcely make the name of +the engraver known; and that they never are found side by +side with this older and apparently ruder art, in the cabinets +of men of real judgment? The reason is precisely the same +as in the case of the Tenniel woodcut. This modern line +engraving is alloyed gold. Rich in capacity, astonishing in +attainment, it nevertheless admits willful fault, and misses +what it ought first to have attained. It is therefore, to +a certain measure, vile in its perfection; while the older work +is noble even in its failure, and classic no less in what it +deliberately refuses, than in what it rationally and rightly +prefers and performs.</p> + +<p>125. Here, for instance, I have enlarged the head of one +of Dürer's Madonnas for you out of one of his most careful +plates.<a name="FNanchor_AB_28" id="FNanchor_AB_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_AB_28" class="fnanchor">[AB]</a> You think it very ugly. Well, so it is. Don't be +afraid to think so, nor to say so. Frightfully ugly; vulgar +also. It is the head, simply, of a fat Dutch girl, with all the +pleasantness left out. There is not the least doubt about +that. Don't let anybody force Albert Dürer down your +throats; nor make you expect pretty things from him. +Stothard's young girl in the swing, or Sir Joshua's Age of +Innocence, is in quite angelic sphere of another world, compared +to this black domain of poor, laborious Albert. We +are not talking of female beauty, so please you, just now, +gentlemen, but of engraving. And the merit, the classical,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +indefeasible, immortal merit of this head of a Dutch girl +with all the beauty left out, is in the fact that every line of +it, as engraving, is as good as can be;—good, not with the +mechanical dexterity of a watch-maker, but with the intellectual +effort and sensitiveness of an artist who knows precisely +what can be done, and ought to be attempted, with his +assigned materials. He works easily, fearlessly, flexibly; the +dots are not all measured in distance; the lines not all mathematically +parallel or divergent. He has even missed his mark +at the mouth in one place, and leaves the mistake, frankly. +But there are no petrified mistakes; nor is the eye so accustomed +to the look of the mechanical furrow as to accept it +for final excellence. The engraving is full of the painter's +higher power and wider perception; it is classically perfect, +because duly subordinate, and presenting for your applause +only the virtues proper to its own sphere. Among these, I +must now reiterate, the first of all is the <i>decorative</i> arrangement +of <i>lines</i>.</p> + +<p>126. You all know what a pretty thing a damask tablecloth +is, and how a pattern is brought out by threads running +one way in one space, and across in another. So, in lace, a +certain delightfulness is given by the texture of meshed lines.</p> + +<p>Similarly, on any surface of metal, the object of the +engraver is, or ought to be, to cover it with lovely <i>lines</i>, forming +a lace-work, and including a variety of spaces, delicious +to the eye.</p> + +<p>And this is his business, primarily; before any other +matter can be thought of, his work must be ornamental. You +know I told you a sculptor's business is first to cover a surface +with pleasant <i>bosses</i>, whether they mean anything or not; so +an engraver's is to cover it with pleasant <i>lines</i>, whether they +mean anything or not. That they should mean something, +and a good deal of something, is indeed desirable afterwards; +but first we must be ornamental.</p> + +<p>127. Now if you will compare <a href="#Plate_II">Plate II.</a> at the beginning +of this lecture, which is a characteristic example of good +Florentine engraving, and represents the Planet and power<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +of Aphrodite, with the Aphrodite of Bewick in the upper +division of <a href="#Plate_I">Plate I.</a>, you will at once understand the difference +between a primarily ornamental, and a primarily +realistic, style. The first requirement in the Florentine +work, is that it shall be a lovely arrangement of lines; a pretty +thing upon a page. Bewick <i>has</i> a secondary notion of making +his vignette a pretty thing upon a page. But he is overpowered +by his vigorous veracity, and bent first on giving +you his idea of Venus. Quite right, he would have been, +mind you, if he had been carving a statue of her on Mount +Eryx; but not when he was engraving a vignette to Æsop's +fables. To engrave well is to ornament a surface well, not +to create a realistic impression. I beg your pardon for my +repetitions; but the point at issue is the root of the whole +business, and I <i>must</i> get it well asserted, and variously.</p> + +<p>Let me pass to a more important example.</p> + +<p>128. Three years ago, in the rough first arrangement of +the copies in the Educational Series, I put an outline of the +top of Apollo's scepter, which, in the catalogue, was said to +be probably by Baccio Bandini of Florence, for your first +real exercise; it remains so, the olive being put first only for +its mythological rank.</p> + +<p>The series of engravings to which the plate from which +that exercise is copied belongs, are part of a number, executed +chiefly, I think, from early designs of Sandro Botticelli, and +some in great part by his hand. He and his assistant, Baccio, +worked together; and in such harmony, that Bandini probably +often does what Sandro wants, better than Sandro could +have done it himself; and, on the other hand, there is no +design of Bandini's over which Sandro does not seem to have +had influence.</p> + +<p>And wishing now to show you three examples of the finest +work of the old, the renaissance, and the modern schools,—of +the old, I will take Baccio Bandini's Astrologia, Plate +III., opposite. Of the renaissance, Dürer's Adam and Eve. +And of the modern, this head of the daughter of Herodias, +engraved from Luini by Beaugrand, which is as affection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>ately +and sincerely wrought, though in the modern manner, +as any plate of the old schools.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 377px;"> +<a id="Plate_III" name="Plate_III"></a> +<img src="images/image091.png" width="377" height="671" alt="III. At ev'ning from the top of Fésole." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">III.</p> +<p class="caption center">"At ev'ning from the top of Fésole."</p> +</div> + +<p>129. Now observe the progress of the feeling for light +and shade in the three examples.</p> + +<p>The first is nearly all white paper; you think of the outline +as the constructive element throughout.</p> + +<p>The second is a vigorous piece of <i>white</i> and <i>black</i>—not of +<i>light</i> and <i>shade</i>,—for all the high lights are equally white, +whether of flesh, or leaves, or goat's hair.</p> + +<p>The third is complete in chiaroscuro, as far as engraving +can be.</p> + +<p>Now the dignity and virtue of the plates is in the exactly +inverse ratio of their fullness in chiaroscuro.</p> + +<p>Bandini's is excellent work, and of the very highest school. +Dürer's entirely accomplished work, but of an inferior school. +And Beaugrand's, excellent work, but of a vulgar and non-classical +school.</p> + +<p>And these relations of the schools are to be determined by +the quality in the <i>lines</i>; we shall find that in proportion as +the light and shade is neglected, the lines are studied; that +those of Bandini are perfect; of Dürer perfect, only with a +lower perfection; but of Beaugrand, entirely faultful.</p> + +<p>130. I have just explained to you that in modern engraving +the lines are cut in clean furrow, widened, it may be, by +successive cuts; but, whether it be fine or thick, retaining +always, when printed, the aspect of a continuous line drawn +with the pen, and entirely black throughout its whole course.</p> + +<p>Now we may increase the delicacy of this line to any +extent by simply printing it in gray color instead of black. +I obtained some very beautiful results of this kind in the +later volumes of 'Modern Painters,' with Mr. Armytage's +help, by using subdued purple tints; but, in any case, the +line thus engraved must be monotonous in its character, and +cannot be expressive of the finest qualities of form.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, the old Florentine workmen constructed the +line <i>itself</i>, in important places, of successive minute touches, +so that it became a chain of delicate links which could be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +opened or closed at pleasure.<a name="FNanchor_AC_29" id="FNanchor_AC_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_AC_29" class="fnanchor">[AC]</a> If you will examine through a +lens the outline of the face of this Astrology, you will find +it is traced with an exquisite series of minute touches, +susceptible of accentuation or change absolutely at the +engraver's pleasure; and, in result, corresponding to the +finest conditions of a pencil line drawing by a consummate +master. In the fine plates of this period, you have thus the +united powers of the pen and pencil, and both absolutely +secure and multipliable.</p> + +<p>131. I am a little proud of having independently discovered, +and had the patience to carry out, this Florentine +method of execution for myself, when I was a boy of thirteen. +My good drawing-master had given me some copies +calculated to teach me freedom of hand; the touches were +rapid and vigorous,—many of them in mechanically regular +zigzags, far beyond any capacity of mine to imitate in the +bold way in which they were done. But I was resolved to +have them, somehow; and actually facsimiled a considerable +portion of the drawing in the Florentine manner, with the +finest point I could cut to my pencil, taking a quarter of an +hour to forge out the likeness of one return in the zigzag +which my master carried down through twenty returns in +two seconds; and so successfully, that he did not detect my +artifice till I showed it him,—on which he forbade me ever +to do the like again. And it was only thirty years afterwards +that I found I had been quite right after all, and +working like Baccio Bandini! But the patience which +carried me through that early effort, served me well through +all the thirty years, and enabled me to analyze, and in a +measure imitate, the method of work employed by every +master; so that, whether you believe me or not at first, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +will find what I tell you of their superiority, or inferiority, +to be true.</p> + +<p>132. When lines are studied with this degree of care, you +may be sure the master will leave room enough for you to +see them and enjoy them, and not use any at random. All +the finest engravers, therefore, leave much white paper, and +use their entire power on the outlines.</p> + +<p>133. Next to them come the men of the Renaissance +schools, headed by Dürer, who, less careful of the beauty and +refinement of the line, delight in its vigor, accuracy, and +complexity. And the essential difference between these men +and the moderns is that these central masters cut their line +for the most part with a single furrow, giving it depth by +force of hand or wrist, and retouching, <i>not in the furrow +itself, but with others beside it</i>.<a name="FNanchor_AD_30" id="FNanchor_AD_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_AD_30" class="fnanchor">[AD]</a> Such work can only be +done well on copper, and it can display all faculty of hand +or wrist, precision of eye, and accuracy of knowledge, which +a human creature can possess. But the dotted or hatched line +is not used in this central style, and the higher conditions of +beauty never thought of.</p> + +<p>In the Astrology of Bandini,—and remember that the +Astrologia of the Florentine meant what we mean by Astronomy, +and much more,—he wishes you first to look at the +face: the lip half open, faltering in wonder; the amazed, +intense, dreaming gaze; the pure dignity of forehead, undisturbed +by terrestrial thought. None of these things could +be so much as attempted in Dürer's method; he can engrave +flowing hair, skin of animals, bark of trees, wreathings of +metal-work, with the free hand; also, with labored chiaroscuro, +or with sturdy line, he can reach expressions of sadness, +or gloom, or pain, or soldierly strength,—but pure +beauty,—never.</p> + +<p>134. Lastly, you have the Modern school, deepening its +lines in successive cuts. The instant consequence of the +introduction of this method is the restriction of curvature;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +you cannot follow a complex curve again with precision +through its furrow. If you are a dextrous plowman, you +can drive your plow any number of times along the simple +curve. But you cannot repeat again exactly the motions +which cut a variable one.<a name="FNanchor_AE_31" id="FNanchor_AE_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_AE_31" class="fnanchor">[AE]</a> You may retouch it, energize +it, and deepen it in parts, but you cannot cut it all through +again equally. And the retouching and energizing in parts +is a living and intellectual process; but the cutting all through, +equally, a mechanical one. The difference is exactly such +as that between the dexterity of turning out two similar +moldings from a lathe, and carving them with the free +hand, like a Pisan sculptor. And although splendid intellect, +and subtlest sensibility, have been spent on the production +of some modern plates, the mechanical element introduced +by their manner of execution always overpowers both; +nor <i>can any plate of consummate value ever be produced in +the modern method</i>.</p> + +<p>135. Nevertheless, in landscape, there are two examples +in your Reference series, of insuperable skill and extreme +beauty: Miller's plate, before instanced, of the Grand Canal, +Venice; and E. Goodall's of the upper fall of the Tees. The +men who engraved these plates might have been exquisite +artists; but their patience and enthusiasm were held captive +in the false system of lines, and we lost the painters; while +the engravings, wonderful as they are, are neither of them +worth a Turner etching, scratched in ten minutes with the +point of an old fork; and the common types of such elaborate +engraving are none of them worth a single frog, pig, or +puppy, out of the corner of a Bewick vignette.</p> + +<p>136. And now, I think, you cannot fail to understand +clearly what you are to look for in engraving, as a separate +art from that of painting. Turn back to the 'Astrologia' as +a perfect type of the purest school. She is gazing at stars, +and crowned with them. But the stars are <i>black</i> instead of +shining! You cannot have a more decisive and absolute proof +that you must not look in engraving for chiaroscuro.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nevertheless, her body is half in shade, and her left foot; +and she casts a shadow, and there is a bar of shade behind +her.</p> + +<p>All these are merely so much acceptance of shade as may +relieve the forms, and give value to the linear portions. The +face, though turned from the light, is shadowless.</p> + +<p>Again. Every lock of the hair is designed and set in its +place with the subtlest care, but there is no luster attempted,—no +texture,—no mystery. The plumes of the wings are set +studiously in their places,—they, also, lusterless. That +even their filaments are not drawn, and that the broad curve +embracing them ignores the anatomy of a bird's wing, are +conditions of design, not execution. Of these in a future +lecture.<a name="FNanchor_AF_32" id="FNanchor_AF_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_AF_32" class="fnanchor">[AF]</a></p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 373px;"> +<a id="Plate_IV" name="Plate_IV"></a> +<img src="images/image098.png" width="373" height="670" alt="IV. By the Springs of Parnassus." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">IV.</p> +<p class="caption center">"By the Springs of <span class="smcap">Parnassus</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>137. The 'Poesia,' Plate IV., opposite, is a still more +severe, though not so generic, an example; its decorative +foreground reducing it almost to the rank of goldsmith's +ornamentation. I need scarcely point out to you that the +flowing water shows neither luster nor reflection; but notice +that the observer's attention is supposed to be so close to +every dark touch of the graver that he will see the minute +dark spots which indicate the sprinkled shower falling from +the vase into the pool.</p> + +<p>138. This habit of strict and calm attention, constant in +the artist, and expected in the observer, makes all the difference +between the art of Intellect, and of mere sensation. For +every detail of this plate has a meaning, if you care to +understand it. This is Poetry, sitting by the fountain of +Castalia, which flows first out of a formal urn, to show that +it is not artless; but the rocks of Parnassus are behind, and +on the top of them—only one tree, like a mushroom with a +thick stalk. You at first are inclined to say, How very +absurd, to put only one tree on Parnassus! but this one +tree is the Immortal Plane Tree, planted by Agamemnon, +and at once connects our Poesia with the Iliad. Then, this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +is the hem of the robe of Poetry,—this is the divine vegetation +which springs up under her feet,—this is the heaven and +earth united by her power,—this is the fountain of Castalia +flowing out afresh among the grass,—and these are the drops +with which, out of a pitcher, Poetry is nourishing the fountain +of Castalia.</p> + +<p>All which you may find out if you happen to know anything +about Castalia, or about poetry; and pleasantly think +more upon, for yourself. But the poor dunces, Sandro and +Baccio, feeling themselves but 'goffi nell' arte,' have no +hope of telling you all this, except suggestively. They can't +engrave grass of Parnassus, nor sweet springs so as to look +like water; but they can make a pretty damasked surface +with ornamental leaves, and flowing lines, and so leave you +something to think of—if you will.</p> + +<p>139. 'But a great many people won't, and a great many +more can't; and surely the finished engravings are much +more delightful, and the only means we have of giving any +idea of finished pictures, out of our reach.'</p> + +<p>Yes, all that is true; and when we examine the effects of +line engraving upon taste in recent art, we will discuss these +matters; for the present, let us be content with knowing what +the best work is, and why it is so. Although, however, I do +not now press further my cavils at the triumph of modern line +engraving, I must assign to you, in few words, the reason of +its recent decline. Engravers complain that photography +and cheap wood-cutting have ended their finer craft. No +complaint can be less grounded. They themselves destroyed +their own craft, by vulgarizing it. Content in their beautiful +mechanism, they ceased to learn, and to feel, as artists; +they put themselves under the order of publishers and print-sellers; +they worked indiscriminately from whatever was put +into their hands,—from Bartlett as willingly as from Turner, +and from Mulready as carefully as from Raphael. They +filled the windows of print-sellers, the pages of gift books, +with elaborate rubbish, and piteous abortions of delicate +industry. They worked cheap, and cheaper,—smoothly, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +more smoothly,—they got armies of assistants, and surrounded +themselves with schools of mechanical tricksters, +learning their stale tricks with blundering avidity. They +had fallen—before the days of photography—into providers +of frontispieces for housekeepers' pocket-books. I do not +know if photography itself, their redoubted enemy, has even +now ousted them from that last refuge.</p> + +<p>140. Such the fault of the engraver,—very pardonable; +scarcely avoidable,—however fatal. Fault mainly of humility. +But what has <i>your</i> fault been, gentlemen? what the +patrons' fault, who have permitted so wide waste of admirable +labor, so pathetic a uselessness of obedient genius? It was +yours to have directed, yours to have raised and rejoiced in, +the skill, the modesty, the patience of this entirely gentle and +industrious race;—copyists with their <i>heart</i>. The common +painter-copyists who encumber our European galleries with +their easels and pots, are, almost without exception, persons +too stupid to be painters, and too lazy to be engravers. The +real copyists—the men who can put their soul into another's +work—are employed at home, in their narrow rooms, striving +to make their good work profitable to all men. And in their +submission to the public taste they are truly national servants +as much as Prime Ministers are. They fulfill the demand of +the nation; what, as a people, you wish to have for possession +in art, these men are ready to give you.</p> + +<p>And what have you hitherto asked of them?—Ramsgate +Sands, and Dolly Vardens, and the Paddington Station,—these, +I think, are typical of your chief demands; the cartoons +of Raphael—which you don't care to see themselves; +and, by way of a flight into the empyrean, the Madonna di +San Sisto. And literally, there are hundreds of cities and +villages in Italy in which roof and wall are blazoned with +the noblest divinity and philosophy ever imagined by +men; and of all this treasure, I can, as far as I know, give +you not <i>one</i> example, in line engraving, by an English +hand!</p> + +<p>Well, you are in the main matter right in this. You want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +essentially Ramsgate Sands and the Paddington Station, because +there you can see yourselves.</p> + +<p>Make yourselves, then, worthy to be seen forever, and let +English engraving become noble as the record of English +loveliness and honor.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_X_24" id="Footnote_X_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_X_24"><span class="label">[X]</span></a> Miller's large plate of the Grand Canal, Venice, after Turner; and +Goodall's, of Tivoli, after Turner. The other examples referred to are +left in the University Galleries.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Y_25" id="Footnote_Y_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Y_25"><span class="label">[Y]</span></a> This paragraph was not read at the lecture, time not allowing:—it +is part of what I wrote on engraving some years ago, in the papers +for the Art Journal, called the Cestus of Aglaia. (Refer now to "On +the Old Road.")</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Z_26" id="Footnote_Z_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Z_26"><span class="label">[Z]</span></a> An effort has lately been made in France, by Meissonier, Gérome, +and their school, to recover it, with marvelous collateral skill of engravers. +The etching of Gérome's Louis XIV. and Molière is one of +the completest pieces of skillful mechanism ever put on metal.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AA_27" id="Footnote_AA_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AA_27"><span class="label">[AA]</span></a> I must again qualify the too sweeping statement of the text. I +think, as time passes, some of these nineteenth century line engravings +will become monumental. The first vignette of the garden, with +the cut hedges and fountain, for instance, in Rogers' poems, is so consummate +in its use of every possible artifice of delicate line, (note the +look of <i>tremulous</i> atmosphere got by the undulatory etched lines on +the pavement, and the broken masses, worked with dots, of the fountain +foam,) that I think it cannot but, with some of its companions, +survive the refuse of its school, and become classic. I find in like +manner, even with all their faults and weaknesses, the vignettes to +Heyne's Virgil to be real art-possessions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AB_28" id="Footnote_AB_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AB_28"><span class="label">[AB]</span></a> <a href="#Plate_XI">Plate XI.</a>, in the Appendix, taken from the engraving of the Virgin +sitting in the fenced garden, with two angels crowning her.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AC_29" id="Footnote_AC_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AC_29"><span class="label">[AC]</span></a> The method was first developed in engraving designs on silver—numbers +of lines being executed with dots by the punch, for variety's +sake. For niello, and printing, a transverse cut was substituted for +the blow. The entire style is connected with the later Roman and +Byzantine method of drawing lines with the drill hole, in marble. See +above, Lecture II., <a href="#Sect_70">Section 70.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AD_30" id="Footnote_AD_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AD_30"><span class="label">[AD]</span></a> This most important and distinctive character was pointed out to +me by Mr. Burgess.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AE_31" id="Footnote_AE_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AE_31"><span class="label">[AE]</span></a> This point will be further examined and explained in the <a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AF_32" id="Footnote_AF_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AF_32"><span class="label">[AF]</span></a> See <a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix, Article I.</a></p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="LECTURE_V" id="LECTURE_V"></a>LECTURE V.</h2> + +<h3>DESIGN IN THE GERMAN SCHOOLS OF ENGRAVING.</h3> + +<p><a id="Sect_141" name="Sect_141"></a>141. By reference to the close of the preface to 'Eagle's +Nest,' you will see, gentlemen, that I meant these lectures, +from the first, rather to lead you to the study of the characters +of two great men, than to interest you in the processes of a +secondary form of art. As I draw my materials into the +limited form necessary for the hour, I find my divided purpose +doubly failing; and would fain rather use my time to-day +in supplying the defects of my last lecture, than in opening +the greater subject, which I must treat with still more +lamentable inadequacy. Nevertheless, you must not think it +is for want of time that I omit reference to other celebrated +engravers, and insist on the special power of these two only. +Many not inconsiderable reputations are founded merely on +the curiosity of collectors of prints, or on partial skill in the +management of processes; others, though resting on more secure +bases, are still of no importance to you in the general +history of art; whereas you will find the work of Holbein and +Botticelli determining for you, without need of any farther +range, the principal questions of moment in the relation of +the Northern and Southern schools of design. Nay, a wider +method of inquiry would only render your comparison less accurate +in result. It is only in Holbein's majestic range of +capacity, and only in the particular phase of Teutonic life +which his art adorned, that the problem can be dealt with on +fair terms. We Northerns can advance no fairly comparable +antagonist to the artists of the South, except at that one moment, +and in that one man. Rubens cannot for an instant +be matched with Tintoret, nor Memling with Lippi; while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +Reynolds only rivals Titian in what he learned from him. +But in Holbein and Botticelli we have two men trained independently, +equal in power of intellect, similar in material +and mode of work, contemporary in age, correspondent in +disposition. The relation between them is strictly typical of +the constant aspects to each other of the Northern and Southern +schools.</p> + +<p>142. Their point of closest contact is in the art of engraving, +and this art is developed entirely as the servant of the +great passions which perturbed or polluted Europe in the fifteenth +century. The impulses which it obeys are all new; +and it obeys them with its own nascent plasticity of temper. +Painting and sculpture are only modified by them; but +engraving is educated.</p> + +<p>These passions are in the main three; namely,</p> + +<p class="hangindent">1. The thirst for classical literature, and the forms of +proud and false taste which arose out of it, in the position +it had assumed as the enemy of Christianity.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">2. The pride of science, enforcing (in the particular domain +of Art) accuracy of perspective, shade, and anatomy, +never before dreamed of.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">3. The sense of error and iniquity in the theological teaching +of the Christian Church, felt by the highest intellects +of the time, and necessarily rendering the formerly +submissive religious art impossible.</p> + +<p>To-day, then, our task is to examine the peculiar characters +of the Design of the Northern Schools of Engraving, as +affected by these great influences.</p> + +<p>143. I have not often, however, used the word 'design,' +and must clearly define the sense in which I now use it. It +is vaguely used in common art-parlance; often as if it meant +merely the drawing of a picture, as distinct from its color; +and in other still more inaccurate ways. The accurate and +proper sense, underlying all these, I must endeavor to make +clear to you.</p> + +<p>'Design' properly signifies that power in any art-work +which has a purpose other than of imitation, and which is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +'designed,' composed, or separated to that end. It implies +the rejection of some things, and the insistence upon others, +with a given object.<a name="FNanchor_AG_33" id="FNanchor_AG_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_AG_33" class="fnanchor">[AG]</a></p> + +<p>Let us take progressive instances. Here is a group of +prettily dressed peasant children, charmingly painted by a +very able modern artist—not absolutely without design, for +he really wishes to show you how pretty peasant children can +be, (and, in so far, is wiser and kinder than Murillo, who +likes to show how ugly they can be); also, his group is agreeably +arranged, and its component children carefully chosen. +Nevertheless, any summer's day, near any country village, +you may come upon twenty groups in an hour as pretty as +this; and may see—if you have eyes—children in them +twenty times prettier than these. A photograph, if it could +render them perfectly, and in color, would far excel the charm +of this painting; for in it, good and clever as it is, there is +nothing supernatural, and much that is subnatural.</p> + +<p>144. Beside this group of, in every sense of the word, 'artless' +little country girls, I will now set one—in the best +sense of the word—'artful' little country girl,—a sketch by +Gainsborough.</p> + +<p>You never saw her like before. Never will again, now +that Gainsborough is dead. No photography,—no science,—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>no +industry, will touch or reach for an instant this <i>super</i>-naturalness. +You will look vainly through the summer fields +for such a child. "Nor up the lawn, nor by the wood," is +she. Whence do you think this marvelous charm has come? +Alas! if we knew, would not we all be Gainsboroughs? This +only you may practically ascertain, as surely as that a flower +will die if you cut its root away, that you cannot alter a single +touch in Gainsborough's work without injury to the whole. +Half a dozen spots, more or less, in the printed gowns of +these other children whom I first showed you, will not make +the smallest difference to them; nor a lock or two more or less +in their hair, nor a dimple or two more or less in their cheeks. +But if you alter one wave of the hair of Gainsborough's girl, +the child is gone. Yet the art is so subtle, that I do not +expect you to believe this. It looks so instinctive, so easy, so +'chanceux,'—the French word is better than ours. Yes, and +in their more accurate sense, also, 'Il a de la chance.' A +stronger Designer than he was with him. He could not tell +you himself how the thing was done.</p> + +<p>145. I proceed to take a more definite instance—this Greek +head of the Lacinian Juno. The design or appointing of the +forms now entirely prevails over the resemblance to Nature. +No real hair could ever be drifted into these wild lines, which +mean the wrath of the Adriatic winds round the Cape of +Storms.</p> + +<p>And yet, whether this be uglier or prettier than Gainsborough's +child—(and you know already what I think about it, +that no Greek goddess was ever half so pretty as an English +girl, of pure clay and temper,)—uglier or prettier, it is more +dignified and impressive. It at least belongs to the domain +of a lordlier, more majestic, more guiding and ordaining art.</p> + +<p>146. I will go back another five hundred years, and place +an Egyptian beside the Greek divinity. The resemblance to +Nature is now all but lost, the ruling law has become all. +The lines are reduced to an easily counted number, and their +arrangement is little more than a decorative sequence of +pleasant curves cut in porphyry,—in the upper part of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +contour following the outline of a woman's face in profile, +over-crested by that of a hawk, on a kind of pedestal. But +that the sign-engraver meant by his hawk, Immortality, and +by her pedestal, the House or Tavern of Truth, is of little +importance now to the passing traveler, not yet preparing to +take the sarcophagus for his place of rest.</p> + +<p>147. How many questions are suggested to us by these +transitions! Is beauty contrary to law, and grace attainable +only through license? What we gain in language, shall we +lose in thought? and in what we add of labor, more and more +forget its ends?</p> + +<p>Not so.</p> + +<p>Look at this piece of Sandro's work, the Libyan Sibyl.<a name="FNanchor_AH_34" id="FNanchor_AH_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_AH_34" class="fnanchor">[AH]</a></p> + +<p>It is as ordered and normal as the Egyptian's—as graceful +and facile as Gainsborough's. It retains the majesty of old +religion; it is invested with the joy of newly awakened childhood.</p> + +<p>Mind, I do not expect you—do not wish you—to enjoy +Botticelli's dark engraving as much as Gainsborough's aerial +sketch; for due comparison of the men, painting should be +put beside painting. But there is enough even in this copy +of the Florentine plate to show you the junction of the two +powers in it—of prophecy, and delight.</p> + +<p>148. Will these two powers, do you suppose, be united in +the same manner in the contemporary Northern art? That +Northern school is my subject to-day; and yet I give you, as +type of the intermediate condition between Egypt and England—not +Holbein, but Botticelli. I am obliged to do this; +because in the Southern art, the religious temper remains +unconquered by the doctrines of the Reformation. Botticelli +was—what Luther wished to be, but could not be—a reformer +still believing in the Church: his mind is at peace; and his +art, therefore, can pursue the delight of beauty, and yet +remain prophetic. But it was far otherwise in Germany. +There the Reformation of manners became the destruction of +faith; and art therefore, not a prophecy, but a protest. It is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +the chief work of the greatest Protestant who ever lived,<a name="FNanchor_AI_35" id="FNanchor_AI_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_AI_35" class="fnanchor">[AI]</a> +which I ask you to study with me to-day.</p> + +<p>149. I said that the power of engraving had developed +itself during the introduction of three new—(practically and +vitally new, that is to say)—elements, into the minds of men: +elements which briefly may be expressed thus:</p> + +<ol> +<li>Classicism, and Literary Science.</li> +<li>Medicine, and Physical Science.<a name="FNanchor_AJ_36" id="FNanchor_AJ_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_AJ_36" class="fnanchor">[AJ]</a></li> +<li>Reformation, and Religious Science.</li> +</ol> + +<p>And first of Classicism.</p> + +<p>You feel, do not you, in this typical work of Gainsborough's, +that his subject as well as his picture is 'artless' in +a lovely sense;—nay, not only artless, but ignorant, and unscientific, +in a beautiful way? You would be afterwards remorseful, +I think, and angry with yourself—seeing the effect +produced on her face—if you were to ask this little lady to +spell a very long word? Also, if you wished to know how +many times the sevens go in forty-nine, you would perhaps +wisely address yourself elsewhere. On the other hand, you +do not doubt that <i>this</i> lady<a name="FNanchor_AK_37" id="FNanchor_AK_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_AK_37" class="fnanchor">[AK]</a> knows very well how many times +the sevens go in forty-nine, and is more Mistress of Arts than +any of us are Masters of them.</p> + +<p>150. You have then, in the one case, a beautiful simplicity, +and a blameless ignorance; in the other, a beautiful artfulness, +and a wisdom which you do not dread,—or, at least, +even though dreading, love. But you know also that we may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +remain in a hateful and culpable ignorance; and, as I fear too +many of us in competitive effort feel, become possessed of a +hateful knowledge.</p> + +<p>Ignorance, therefore, is not evil absolutely; but, innocent, +may be lovable.</p> + +<p>Knowledge also is not good absolutely; but, guilty, may be +hateful.</p> + +<p>So, therefore, when I now repeat my former statement, +that the first main opposition between the Northern and +Southern schools is in the simplicity of the one, and the +scholarship of the other, that statement may imply sometimes +the superiority of the North, and sometimes of the South. +You may have a heavenly simplicity opposed to a hellish +(that is to say, a lustful and arrogant) scholarship; or you +may have a barbarous and presumptuous ignorance opposed +to a divine and disciplined wisdom. Ignorance opposed to +learning in both cases; but evil to good, as the case may be.</p> + +<p>151. For instance: the last time I was standing before +Raphael's arabesques in the Loggias of the Vatican, I wrote +down in my pocket-book the description, or, more modestly +speaking, the inventory, of the small portion of that infinite +wilderness of sensual fantasy which happened to be opposite +me. It consisted of a woman's face, with serpents for hair, +and a virgin's breasts, with stumps for arms, ending in blue +butterflies' wings, the whole changing at the waist into a goat's +body, which ended below in an obelisk upside-down, to the +apex at the bottom of which were appended, by graceful +chains, an altar, and two bunches of grapes.</p> + +<p>Now you know in a moment, by a glance at this 'design'—beautifully +struck with free hand, and richly gradated in +color,—that the master was familiar with a vast range of art +and literature: that he knew all about Egyptian sphinxes, and +Greek Gorgons; about Egyptian obelisks, and Hebrew altars; +about Hermes, and Venus, and Bacchus, and satyrs, and +goats, and grapes.</p> + +<p>You know also—or ought to know, in an instant,—that all +this learning has done him no good; that he had better have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +known nothing than any of these things, since they were to +be used by him only to such purpose; and that his delight in +armless breasts, legless trunks, and obelisks upside-down, has +been the last effort of his expiring sensation, in the grasp of +corrupt and altogether victorious Death. And you have thus, +in Gainsborough as compared with Raphael, a sweet, sacred, +and living simplicity, set against an impure, profane, and +paralyzed knowledge.</p> + +<p>152. But, next, let us consider the reverse conditions.</p> + +<p>Let us take instance of contrast between faultful and +treacherous ignorance, and divinely pure and fruitful knowledge.</p> + +<p>In the place of honor at the end of one of the rooms of your +Royal Academy—years ago—stood a picture by an English +Academician, announced as a representation of Moses sustained +by Aaron and Hur, during the discomfiture of Amalek. +In the entire range of the Pentateuch, there is no other scene +(in which the visible agents are mortal only) requiring so +much knowledge and thought to reach even a distant approximation +to the probabilities of the fact. One saw in a moment +that the painter was both powerful and simple, after a +sort; that he had really sought for a vital conception, and had +originally and earnestly read his text, and formed his conception. +And one saw also in a moment that he had chanced +upon this subject, in reading or hearing his Bible, as he might +have chanced on a dramatic scene accidentally in the street. +That he knew nothing of the character of Moses,—nothing of +his law,—nothing of the character of Aaron, nor of the nature +of a priesthood,—nothing of the meaning of the event which +he was endeavoring to represent, of the temper in which it +would have been transacted by its agents, or of its relations to +modern life.</p> + +<p>153. On the contrary, in the fresco of the earlier scenes in +the life of Moses, by Sandro Botticelli, you know—not 'in a +moment,' for the knowledge of knowledge cannot be so obtained; +but in proportion to the discretion of your own reading, +and to the care you give to the picture, you <i>may</i> know,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>—that +here is a sacredly guided and guarded learning; here a +Master indeed, at whose feet you may sit safely, who can teach +you, better than in words, the significance of both Moses' law +and Aaron's ministry; and not only these, but, if he chose, +could add to this an exposition as complete of the highest +philosophies both of the Greek nation, and of his own; and +could as easily have painted, had it been asked of him, Draco, +or Numa, or Justinian, as the herdsman of Jethro.</p> + +<p>154. It is rarely that we can point to an opposition between +faultful, because insolent, ignorance, and virtuous, because +gracious, knowledge, so direct, and in so parallel elements, as +in this instance. In general, the analysis is much more complex. +It is intensely difficult to indicate the mischief of +involuntary and modest ignorance, calamitous only in a measure; +fruitful in its lower field, yet sorrowfully condemned +to that lower field—not by sin, but fate.</p> + +<p>When first I introduced you to Bewick, we closed our too +partial estimate of his entirely magnificent powers with one +sorrowful concession—he could draw a pig, but not a Venus.</p> + +<p>Eminently he could so, because—which is still more sorrowfully +to be conceded—he liked the pig best. I have put +now in your educational series a whole galaxy of pigs by him; +but, hunting all the fables through, I find only one Venus, +and I think you will all admit that she is an unsatisfactory +Venus.<a name="FNanchor_AL_38" id="FNanchor_AL_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_AL_38" class="fnanchor">[AL]</a> There is honest simplicity here; but you regret it; +you miss something that you find in Holbein, much more in +Botticelli. You see in a moment that this man knows nothing +of Sphinxes, or Muses, or Graces, or Aphrodites; and, besides, +that, knowing nothing, he would have no liking for +them even if he saw them; but much prefers the style of a +well-to-do English housekeeper with corkscrew curls, and a +portly person.</p> + +<p>155. You miss something, I said, in Bewick which you +find in Holbein. But do you suppose Holbein himself, or +any other Northern painter, could wholly quit himself of the +like accusations? I told you, in the second of these lectures,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +that the Northern temper, refined from savageness, and +the Southern, redeemed from decay, met, in Florence. Holbein +and Botticelli are the purest types of the two races. +Holbein is a civilized boor; Botticelli a reanimate Greek. +Holbein was polished by companionship with scholars and +kings, but remains always a burgher of Augsburg in essential +nature. Bewick and he are alike in temper; only the one is +untaught, the other perfectly taught. But Botticelli <i>needs</i> no +teaching. He is, by his birth, scholar and gentleman to the +heart's core. Christianity itself can only inspire him, not +refine him. He is as tried gold chased by the jeweler,—the +roughest part of him is the outside.</p> + +<p>Now how differently must the newly recovered scholastic +learning tell upon these two men. It is all out of Holbein's +way; foreign to his nature, useless at the best, probably cumbrous. +But Botticelli receives it as a child in later years +recovers the forgotten dearness of a nursery tale; and is more +himself, and again and again himself, as he breathes the air +of Greece, and hears, in his own Italy, the lost voice of the +Sibyl murmur again by the Avernus Lake.</p> + +<p>156. It is not, as we have seen, every one of the Southern +race who can thus receive it. But it graces them all; is at +once a part of their being; destroys them, if it is to destroy, +the more utterly because it so enters into their natures. It +destroys Raphael; but it graces him, and is a part of him. It +all but destroys Mantegna; but it graces him. And it does +not hurt Holbein, just because it does <i>not</i> grace him—never +is for an instant a part of him. It is with Raphael as with +some charming young girl who has a new and beautifully +made dress brought to her, which entirely becomes her,—so +much, that in a little while, thinking of nothing else, she becomes +<i>it</i>; and is only the decoration of her dress. But with +Holbein it is as if you brought the same dress to a stout farmer's +daughter who was going to dine at the Hall; and begged +her to put it on that she might not discredit the company. +She puts it on to please you; looks entirely ridiculous in it, +but is not spoiled by it,—remains herself, in spite of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>157. You probably have never noticed the extreme awkwardness +of Holbein in wearing this new dress; you would +the less do so because his own people think him all the finer +for it, as the farmer's wife would probably think her daughter. +Dr. Woltmann, for instance, is enthusiastic in praise of +the splendid architecture in the background of his Annunciation. +A fine mess it must have made in the minds of simple +German maidens, in their notion of the Virgin at home! I +cannot show you this Annunciation; but I have under my +hand one of Holbein's Bible cuts, of the deepest seriousness +and import—his illustration of the Canticles, showing the +Church as the bride of Christ.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 191px;"> +<img src="images/image113.png" width="191" height="327" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>You could not find a subject requiring more tenderness, +purity, or dignity of treatment. In this maid, symbolizing +the Church, you ask for the most passionate humility, the +most angelic beauty: "Behold, thou art fair, my dove." +Now here is Holbein's ideal of that fairness; here is his +"Church as the Bride."</p> + +<p>I am sorry to associate this figure in your minds, even for +a moment, with the passages it is supposed to illustrate; but +the lesson is too important to be omitted. Remember, Hol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>bein +represents the temper of Northern Reformation. He +has all the nobleness of that temper, but also all its baseness. +He represents, indeed, the revolt of German truth against +Italian lies; but he represents also the revolt of German +animalism against Hebrew imagination. This figure of +Holbein's is half-way from Solomon's mystic bride, to +Rembrandt's wife, sitting on his knee while he drinks.</p> + +<p>But the key of the question is not in this. Florentine animalism +has at this time, also, enough to say for itself. But +Florentine animalism, at this time, feels the joy of a gentleman, +not of a churl. And a Florentine, whatever he does,—be +it virtuous or sinful, chaste or lascivious, severe or extravagant,—does +it with a grace.</p> + +<p>158. You think, perhaps, that Holbein's Solomon's bride +is so ungraceful chiefly because she is overdressed, and has +too many feathers and jewels. No; a Florentine would have +put any quantity of feathers and jewels on her, and yet never +lost her grace. You shall see him do it, and that to a fantastic +degree, for I have an example under my hand. Look +back, first, to <a href="#Plate_I">Bewick's Venus</a> (Lecture III.). You can't +accuse her of being overdressed. She complies with every +received modern principle of taste. Sir Joshua's precept that +drapery should be "drapery, and nothing more," is observed +more strictly even by Bewick than by Michael Angelo. If +the absence of decoration could exalt the beauty of his Venus, +here had been her perfection.</p> + +<p>Now look back to <a href="#Plate_II">Plate II.</a> (Lecture IV.), by Sandro; +Venus in her planet, the ruling star of Florence. Anything +more grotesque in conception, more unrestrained in fancy of +ornament, you cannot find, even in the final days of the Renaissance. +Yet Venus holds her divinity through all; she +will become majestic to you as you gaze; and there is not a +line of her chariot wheels, of her buskins, or of her throne, +which you may not see was engraved by a gentleman.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 729px;"> +<a id="Plate_V" name="Plate_V"></a> +<img src="images/image115.png" width="729" height="451" alt="V. Heat considered as a Mode of Motion. Florentine Natural Philosophy." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">V.</p> +<p class="caption center">"Heat considered as a Mode of Motion."</p> +<p class="caption center">Florentine Natural Philosophy.</p> +</div> + + +<p>159. Again, Plate V., opposite, is a facsimile of another +engraving of the same series—the Sun in Leo. It is even +more extravagant in accessories than the Venus. You see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +the Sun's epaulets before you see the sun; the spiral scrolls +of his chariot, and the black twisted rays of it, might, so far +as types of form only are considered, be a design for some +modern court-dress star, to be made in diamonds. And yet +all this wild ornamentation is, if you will examine it, more +purely Greek in spirit than the Apollo Belvedere.</p> + +<p>You know I have told you, again and again, that the soul +of Greece is her veracity; that what to other nations were +fables and symbolisms, to her became living facts—living +gods. The fall of Greece was instant when her gods again +became fables. The Apollo Belvedere is the work of a sculptor +to whom Apollonism is merely an elegant idea on which +to exhibit his own skill. He does not himself feel for an instant +that the handsome man in the unintelligible attitude,<a name="FNanchor_AM_39" id="FNanchor_AM_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_AM_39" class="fnanchor">[AM]</a> +with drapery hung over his left arm, as it would be hung to +dry over a clothes-line, is the Power of the Sun. But the +Florentine believes in Apollo with his whole mind, and is trying +to explain his strength in every touch.</p> + +<p>For instance; I said just now, "You see the sun's epaulets +before the sun." Well, <i>don't</i> you, usually, as it rises? +Do you not continually mistake a luminous cloud for it, or +wonder where it is, behind one? Again, the face of the +Apollo Belvedere is agitated by anxiety, passion, and pride. +Is the sun's likely to be so, rising on the evil and the good? +This Prince sits crowned and calm: look at the quiet fingers +of the hand holding the scepter,—at the restraint of the reins +merely by a depression of the wrist.</p> + +<p>160. You have to look carefully for those fingers holding +the scepter, because the hand—which a great anatomist would +have made so exclusively interesting—is here confused with +the ornamentation of the arm of the chariot on which it rests.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +But look what the ornamentation is;—fruit and leaves, abundant, +in the mouth of a cornucopia. A quite vulgar and +meaningless ornament in ordinary renaissance work. Is it +so here, think you? Are not the leaves and fruits of earth +in the Sun's hand?<a name="FNanchor_AN_40" id="FNanchor_AN_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_AN_40" class="fnanchor">[AN]</a></p> + +<p>You thought, perhaps, when I spoke just now of the action +of the right hand, that less than a depression of the wrist +would stop horses such as those. You fancy Botticelli drew +them so, because he had never seen a horse; or because, able +to draw fingers, he could not draw hoofs! How fine it would +be to have, instead, a prancing four-in-hand, in the style of +Piccadilly on the Derby-day, or at least horses like the real +Greek horses of the Parthenon!</p> + +<p>Yes; and if they had had real ground to trot on, the Florentine +would have shown you he knew how they should trot. +But these have to make their way up the hill-side of other +lands. Look to the example in your standard series, Hermes +Eriophoros. You will find his motion among clouds represented +precisely in this laboring, failing, half-kneeling attitude +of limb. These forms, toiling up through the rippled +sands of heaven, are—not horses;—they are clouds themselves, +<i>like</i> horses, but only a little like. Look how their +hoofs lose themselves, buried in the ripples of cloud; it makes +one think of the quicksands of Morecambe Bay.</p> + +<p>And their tails—what extraordinary tufts of tails, ending +in points! Yes; but do you not see, nearly joining with +them, what is not a horse tail at all; but a flame of fire, kindled +at Apollo's knee? All the rest of the radiance about him +shoots <i>from</i> him. But this is rendered <i>up</i> to him. As the +fruits of the earth are in one of his hands, its fire is in the +other. And all the warmth, as well as all the light of it, are +his.</p> + +<p>We had a little natural philosophy, gentlemen, as well as +theology, in Florence, once upon a time.</p> + +<p>161. Natural philosophy, and also natural art, for in this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +the Greek reanimate was a nobler creature than the Greek +who had died. His art had a wider force and warmer glow. +I have told you that the first Greeks were distinguished from +the barbarians by their simple humanity; the second Greeks—these +Florentine Greeks reanimate—are human more +strongly, more deeply, leaping from the Byzantine death at +the call of Christ, "Loose him, and let him go." And there +is upon them at once the joy of resurrection, and the solemnity +of the grave.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"> +<a id="Plate_VI" name="Plate_VI"></a> +<img src="images/image120.png" width="440" height="718" alt="VI. Fairness of the Sea and Air. In VENICE and ATHENS." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">VI.</p> +<p class="caption center">Fairness of the Sea and Air.</p> +<p class="caption center">In VENICE and ATHENS.</p> +</div> + +<p>162. Of this resurrection of the Greek, and the form of the +tomb he had been buried in "those four days," I have to give +you some account in the last lecture. I will only to-day show +you an illustration of it which brings us back to our immediate +question as to the reasons why Northern art could not +accept classicism. When, in the closing lecture of "Aratra +Pentelici,"<a name="FNanchor_AO_41" id="FNanchor_AO_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_AO_41" class="fnanchor">[AO]</a> I compared Florentine with Greek work, it was +to point out to you the eager passions of the first as opposed +to the formal legalism and proprieties of the other. Greek +work, I told you, while truthful, was also restrained, and +never but under majesty of law; while Gothic work was true, +in the perfect law of Liberty or Franchise. And now I give +you in facsimile (Plate VI.) the two Aphrodites thus compared—the +Aphrodite Thalassia of the Tyrrhene seas, and +the Aphrodite Urania of the Greek skies. You may not at +first like the Tuscan best; and why she is the best, though +both are noble, again I must defer explaining to next lecture. +But now turn back to <a href="#Plate_I">Bewick's Venus</a>, and compare her with +the Tuscan Venus of the Stars, (<a href="#Plate_II">Plate II.</a>); and then here, +in Plate VI., with the Tuscan Venus of the Seas, and the +Greek Venus of the Sky. Why is the English one vulgar? +What is it, in the three others, which makes them, if not beautiful, +at least refined?—every one of them 'designed' and +drawn, indisputably, by a gentleman?</p> + +<p>I never have been so puzzled by any subject of analysis as, +for these ten years, I have been by this. Every answer I +give, however plausible it seems at first, fails in some way, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +in some cases. But there is the point for you, more definitely +put, I think, than in any of my former books;—at present, +for want of time, I must leave it to your own thoughts.</p> + +<p>163. II. The second influence under which engraving +developed itself, I said, was that of medicine and the physical +sciences. Gentlemen, the most audacious, and the most valuable, +statement which I have yet made to you on the subject +of practical art, in these rooms, is that of the evil resulting +from the study of anatomy. It is a statement so audacious, +that not only for some time I dared not make it to you, but +for ten years, at least, I dared not make it to myself. I saw, +indeed, that whoever studied anatomy was in a measure injured +by it; but I kept attributing the mischief to secondary +causes. It <i>can't</i> be this drink itself that poisons them, I said +always. This drink is medicinal and strengthening: I see +that it kills them, but it must be because they drink it cold +when they have been hot, or they take something else with it +that changes it into poison. The drink itself <i>must</i> be good. +Well, gentlemen, I found out the drink itself to be poison at +last, by the breaking of my choicest Venice glass. I could +not make out what it was that had killed Tintoret, and laid +it long to the charge of chiaroscuro. It was only after my +thorough study of his Paradise, in 1870, that I gave up this +idea, finding the chiaroscuro, which I had thought exaggerated, +was, in all original and undarkened passages, beautiful +and most precious. And then at last I got hold of the true +clue: "Il disegno di Michel Agnolo." And the moment I +had dared to accuse that, it explained everything; and I saw +that the betraying demons of Italian art, led on by Michael +Angelo, had been, not pleasure, but knowledge; not indolence, +but ambition; and not love, but horror.</p> + +<p>164. But when first I ventured to tell you this, I did not +know, myself, the fact of all most conclusive for its confirmation. +It will take me a little while to put it before you in its +total force, and I must first ask your attention to a minor +point. In one of the smaller rooms of the Munich Gallery +is Holbein's painting of St. Margaret and St. Elizabeth of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +Hungary,—standard of his early religious work. Here is a +photograph from the St. Elizabeth; and, in the same frame, +a French lithograph of it. I consider it one of the most important +pieces of comparison I have arranged for you, showing +you at a glance the difference between true and false sentiment. +Of that difference, generally, we cannot speak to-day, +but one special result of it you are to observe;—the omission, +in the French drawing, of Holbein's daring representation +of disease, which is one of the vital honors of the picture. +Quite one of the chief strengths of St. Elizabeth, in the +Roman Catholic view, was in the courage of her dealing with +disease, chiefly leprosy. Now observe, I say <i>Roman</i> Catholic +view, very earnestly just now; I am not at all sure that it is +so in a Catholic view—that is to say, in an eternally Christian +and Divine view. And this doubt, very nearly now a certainty, +only came clearly into my mind the other day after +many and many a year's meditation on it. I had read with +great reverence all the beautiful stories about Christ's appearing +as a leper, and the like; and had often pitied and rebuked +myself alternately for my intense dislike and horror of disease. +I am writing at this moment within fifty yards of the +grave of St. Francis, and the story of the likeness of his feelings +to mine had a little comforted me, and the tradition of +his conquest of them again humiliated me; and I was thinking +very gravely of this, and of the parallel instance of Bishop +Hugo of Lincoln, always desiring to do service to the dead, as +opposed to my own unmitigated and Louis-Quinze-like horror +of funerals;—when by chance, in the cathedral of Palermo, +a new light was thrown for me on the whole matter.</p> + +<p>165. I was drawing the tomb of Frederick II., which is +shut off by a grating from the body of the church; and I had, +in general, quite an unusual degree of quiet and comfort at +my work. But sometimes it was paralyzed by the unconscious +interference of one of the men employed in some minor +domestic services about the church. When he had nothing to +do, he used to come and seat himself near my grating, not to +look at my work, (the poor wretch had no eyes, to speak of,)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +nor in any way meaning to be troublesome; but there was +his habitual seat. His nose had been carried off by the most +loathsome of diseases; there were two vivid circles of scarlet +round his eyes; and as he sat, he announced his presence +every quarter of a minute (if otherwise I could have forgotten +it) by a peculiarly disgusting, loud, and long expectoration. +On the second or third day, just I had forced myself +into some forgetfulness of him, and was hard at my work, I +was startled from it again by the bursting out of a loud and +cheerful conversation close to me; and on looking round, saw +a lively young fledgling of a priest, seventeen or eighteen +years old, in the most eager and spirited chat with the man +in the chair. He talked, laughed, and spat, himself, companionably, +in the merriest way, for a quarter of an hour; +evidently without feeling the slightest disgust, or being made +serious for an instant, by the aspect of the destroyed creature +before him.</p> + +<p>166. His own face was simply that of the ordinary vulgar +type of thoughtless young Italians, rather beneath than above +the usual standard; and I was certain, as I watched him, that +he was not at all my superior, but very much my inferior, in +the coolness with which he beheld what was to me so dreadful. +I was positive that he could look this man in the face, precisely +because he could <i>not</i> look, discerningly, at any beautiful +or noble thing; and that the reason I dared not, was because +I had, spiritually, as much better eyes than the priest, +as, bodily, than his companion.</p> + +<p>Having got so much of clear evidence given me on the matter, +it was driven home for me a week later, as I landed on +the quay of Naples. Almost the first thing that presented +itself to me was the sign of a traveling theatrical company, +displaying the principal scene of the drama to be enacted on +their classical stage. Fresh from the theater of Taormina, I +was curious to see the subject of the Neapolitan popular +drama. It was the capture, by the police, of a man and his +wife who lived by boiling children. One section of the police +was coming in, armed to the teeth, through the passage;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +another section of the police, armed to the teeth, and with +high feathers in its caps, was coming up through a trap-door. +In fine dramatic unconsciousness to the last moment, like the +clown in a pantomime, the child-boiler was represented as still +industriously chopping up a child, pieces of which, ready for +the pot, lay here and there on the table in the middle of the +picture. The child-boiler's wife, however, just as she was +taking the top off the pot to put the meat in, had caught a +glimpse of the foremost policeman, and stopped, as much in +rage as in consternation.</p> + +<p>167. Now it is precisely the same feeling, or want of feeling, +in the lower Italian (nor always in the lower classes only) +which makes him demand the kind of subject for his secular +drama; and the Crucifixion and Pietà for his religious drama. +The only part of Christianity he can enjoy is its horror; and +even the saint and saintess are not always denying themselves +severely, either by the contemplation of torture, or the companionship +with disease.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, we must be cautious, on the other hand, to +allow full value to the endurance, by tender and delicate persons, +of what is really loathsome or distressful to them in the +service of others; and I think this picture of Holbein's indicative +of the exact balance and rightness of his own mind in +this matter, and therefore of his power to conceive a true saint +also. He had to represent St. Catherine's chief effort;—he +paints her ministering to the sick, and, among them, is a +leper; and finding it thus his duty to paint leprosy, he courageously +himself studies it from the life. Not to insist on its +horror; but to assert it, to the needful point of fact, which he +does with medical accuracy.</p> + +<p>Now here is just a case in which science, in a subordinate +degree, is really required for a spiritual and moral purpose. +And you find Holbein does not shrink from it even in this +extreme case in which it is most painful.</p> + +<p>168. If, therefore, you <i>do</i> find him in other cases not using +it, you may be sure he knew it to be unnecessary.</p> + +<p>Now it may be disputable whether in order to draw a living<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +Madonna, one needs to know how many ribs she has; but it +would have seemed indisputable that in order to draw a skeleton, +one must know how many ribs <i>it</i> has.</p> + +<p>Holbein is par excellence the draughtsman of skeletons. +His painted Dance of Death was, and his engraved Dance of +Death is, principal of such things, without any comparison or +denial. He draws skeleton after skeleton, in every possible +gesture; but never so much as counts their ribs! He neither +knows nor cares how many ribs a skeleton has. There are +always enough to rattle.</p> + +<p>Monstrous, you think, in impudence,—Holbein for his +carelessness, and I for defending him! Nay, I triumph in +him; nothing has ever more pleased me than this grand negligence. +Nobody wants to know how many ribs a skeleton has, +any more than how many bars a gridiron has, so long as the +one can breathe, and the other broil; and still less, when the +breath and the fire are both out.</p> + +<p>169. But is it only of the bones, think you, that Holbein +is careless?<a name="FNanchor_AP_42" id="FNanchor_AP_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_AP_42" class="fnanchor">[AP]</a> Nay, incredible though it may seem to you,—but, +to me, explanatory at once of much of his excellence,—he +did not know anatomy at all! I told you in my Preface,<a name="FNanchor_AQ_43" id="FNanchor_AQ_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_AQ_43" class="fnanchor">[AQ]</a> +already quoted, Holbein studies the face first, the body secondarily; +but I had no idea, myself, how completely he had +refused the venomous science of his day. I showed you a +dead Christ of his, long ago. Can you match it with your +academy drawings, think you? And yet he did not, and +would not, know anatomy. <i>He</i> would not; but Dürer would, +and did:—went hotly into it—wrote books upon it, and upon +'proportions of the human body,' etc., etc., and all your +modern recipes for painting flesh. How did his studies prosper +his art?</p> + +<p>People are always talking of his Knight and Death, and +his Melancholia, as if those were his principal works. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +are his characteristic ones, and show what he might have been +<i>without</i> his anatomy; but they were mere by-play compared +to his Greater Fortune, and Adam and Eve. Look at these. +Here is his full energy displayed; here are both male and +female forms drawn with perfect knowledge of their bones +and muscles, and modes of action and digestion,—and I hope +you are pleased.</p> + +<p>But it is not anatomy only that Master Albert studies. +He has a taste for optics also; and knows all about refraction +and reflection. What with his knowledge of the skull inside, +and the vitreous lens outside, if any man in the world is to +draw an eye, here's the man to do it, surely! With a hand +which can give lessons to John Bellini, and a care which +would fain do all so that it can't be done better, and acquaintance +with every crack in the cranium, and every humor in +the lens,—if we can't draw an eye, we should just like to +know who can! thinks Albert.</p> + +<p>So having to engrave the portrait of Melanchthon, instead +of looking at Melanchthon as ignorant Holbein would have +been obliged to do,—wise Albert looks at the room window; +and finds it has four cross-bars in it, and knows scientifically +that the light on Melanchthon's eye must be a reflection of the +window with its four bars—and engraves it so, accordingly; +and who shall dare to say, now, it isn't like Melanchthon?</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, however, it isn't, nor like any other person +in his senses; but like a madman looking at somebody who disputes +his hobby. While in this drawing of Holbein's, where +a dim gray shadow leaves a mere crumb of white paper,—accidentally +it seems, for all the fine scientific reflection,—behold, +it is an eye indeed, and of a noble creature.</p> + +<p>170. What is the reason? do you ask me; and is all the +common teaching about generalization of details true, then?</p> + +<p>No; not a syllable of it is true. Holbein is right, not because +he draws more generally, but more truly, than Dürer. +Dürer draws what he knows is there; but Holbein, only what +he sees. And, as I have told you often before, the really +scientific artist is he who not only asserts bravely what he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +<i>does</i> see, but confesses honestly what he does <i>not</i>. You must +not draw all the hairs in an eyelash; not because it is sublime +to generalize them, but because it is impossible to see them. +How many hairs there are, a sign painter or anatomist may +count; but how few of them you can see, it is only the utmost +masters, Carpaccio, Tintoret, Reynolds, and Velasquez, who +count, or know.</p> + +<p>171. Such was the effect, then, of his science upon Dürer's +ideal of beauty, and skill in portraiture. What effect had it +on the temper and quantity of his work, as compared with +poor ignorant Holbein's! You have only three portraits, by +Dürer, of the great men of his time, and those bad ones; +while he toils his soul out to draw the hoofs of satyrs, the +bristles of swine, and the distorted aspects of base women and +vicious men.</p> + +<p>What, on the contrary, has ignorant Holbein done for you? +Shakespeare and he divide between them, by word and look, +the Story of England under Henry and Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>172. Of the effect of science on the art of Mantegna and +Marc Antonio, (far more deadly than on Dürer's,) I must +tell you in a future lecture;—the effect of it on their minds, +I must partly refer to now, in passing to the third head of my +general statement—the influence of new Theology. For +Dürer and Mantegna, chiefly because of their science, forfeited +their place, not only as painters of men, but as servants +of God. Neither of them has left one completely noble or +completely didactic picture; while Holbein and Botticelli, in +consummate pieces of art, led the way before the eyes of all +men, to the purification of their Church and land.</p> + +<p>173. III. But the need of reformation presented itself to +these two men last named on entirely different terms.</p> + +<p>To Holbein, when the word of the Catholic Church proved +false, and its deeds bloody; when he saw it selling permission +of sin in his native Augsburg, and strewing the ashes of its +enemies on the pure Alpine waters of Constance, what refuge +was there for <i>him</i> in more ancient religion? Shall he worship +Thor again, and mourn over the death of Balder? He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +reads Nature in her desolate and narrow truth, and she +teaches him the Triumph of Death.</p> + +<p>But, for Botticelli, the grand gods are old, are immortal. +The priests may have taught falsely the story of the Virgin;—did +they not also lie, in the name of Artemis, at Ephesus;—in +the name of Aphrodite, at Cyprus?—but shall, therefore, +Chastity or Love be dead, or the full moon paler over +Arno? Saints of Heaven and Gods of Earth!—shall <i>these</i> +perish because vain men speak evil of them! Let <i>us</i> speak +good forever, and grave, as on the rock, for ages to come, the +glory of Beauty, and the triumph of Faith.</p> + +<p>174. Holbein had bitterer task.</p> + +<p>Of old, the one duty of the painter had been to exhibit the +virtues of this life, and hopes of the life to come. Holbein +had to show the vices of this life, and to obscure the hope of +the future. "Yes, we walk through the valley of the shadow +of death, and fear all evil, for Thou art not with us, and Thy +rod and Thy staff comfort us not." He does not choose this +task. It is thrust upon him,—just as fatally as the burial +of the dead is in a plague-struck city. These are the things +he sees, and must speak. He will not become a better artist +thereby; no drawing of supreme beauty, or beautiful things, +will be possible to him. Yet we cannot say he ought to have +done anything else, nor can we praise him specially in doing +this. It is his fate; the fate of all the bravest in that day.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 473px;"> +<a id="Fig_5" name="Fig_5"></a> +<img src="images/image130.png" width="473" height="631" alt="THE CHILD'S BEDTIME. (Fig. 5) Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">THE CHILD'S BEDTIME.</p> +<p class="caption center">(Fig. 5) Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut.</p> +</div> + +<p>175. For instance, there is no scene about which a shallow +and feeble painter would have been more sure to adopt the +commonplaces of the creed of his time than the death of a +child,—chiefly, and most of all, the death of a country child,—a +little thing fresh from the cottage and the field. Surely +for such an one, angels will wait by its sick bed, and rejoice +as they bear its soul away; and over its shroud flowers will +be strewn, and the birds will sing by its grave. So your +common sentimentalist would think, and paint. Holbein +sees the facts, as they verily are, up to the point when vision +ceases. He speaks, then, no more.</p> + +<p>The country laborer's cottage—the rain coming through its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +roof, the clay crumbling from its partitions, the fire lighted +with a few chips and sticks on a raised piece of the mud floor,—such +dais as can be contrived, for use, not for honor. The +damp wood sputters; the smoke, stopped by the roof, though +the rain is not, coils round again, and down. But the +mother can warm the child's supper of bread and milk so—holding +the pan by the long handle; and on mud floor though +it be, they are happy,—she, and her child, and its brother,—if +only they could be left so. They shall not be left so: the +young thing must leave them—will never need milk warmed +for it any more. It would fain stay,—sees no angels—feels +only an icy grip on its hand, and that it cannot stay. Those +who loved it shriek and tear their hair in vain, amazed in +grief. 'Oh, little one, must you lie out in the fields then, not +even under this poor torn roof of thy mother's to-night?'</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 483px;"> +<a id="Fig_6" name="Fig_6"></a> +<img src="images/image134.png" width="483" height="636" alt="H" title="" /> +<p class="caption center">"HE THAT HATH EARS TO HEAR, LET HIM HEAR."</p> +<p class="caption center">(Fig. 6) Facsimile from Holbein's woodcut.</p> +</div> + +<p>176. Again: there was not in the old creed any subject +more definitely and constantly insisted on than the death of +a miser. He had been happy, the old preachers thought, +till then: but his hour has come; and the black covetousness +of hell is awake and watching; the sharp harpy claws will +clutch his soul out of his mouth, and scatter his treasure for +others. So the commonplace preacher and painter taught. +Not so Holbein. The devil want to snatch his soul, indeed! +Nay, he never <i>had</i> a soul, but of the devil's giving. His +misery to begin on his death-bed! Nay, he had never an +unmiserable hour of life. The fiend is with him now,—a +paltry, abortive fiend, with no breath even to blow hot with. +He supplies the hell-blast <i>with a machine</i>. It is winter, +and the rich man has his furred cloak and cap, thick and +heavy; the beggar, bare-headed to beseech him, skin and rags +hanging about him together, touches his shoulder, but all +in vain; there is other business in hand. More haggard than +the beggar himself, wasted and palsied, the rich man counts +with his fingers the gain of the years to come.</p> + +<p>But of those years, infinite that are to be, Holbein says +nothing. 'I know not; I see not. This only I see, on this +very winter's day, the low pale stumbling-block at your feet,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +the altogether by you unseen and forgotten Death. You +shall not pass <i>him</i> by on the other side; here is a fasting figure +in skin and bone, at last, that will stop you; and for all the +hidden treasures of earth, here is your spade: dig now, and +find them.'</p> + +<p>177. I have said that Holbein was condemned to teach +these things. He was not happy in teaching them, nor +thanked for teaching them. Nor was Botticelli for his lovelier +teaching. But they both could do no otherwise. They +lived in truth and steadfastness; and with both, in their +marvelous design, veracity is the beginning of invention, and +love its end.</p> + +<p>I have but time to show you, in conclusion, how this affectionate +self-forgetfulness protects Holbein from the chief +calamity of the German temper, vanity, which is at the root of +all Dürer's weakness. Here is a photograph of Holbein's +portrait of Erasmus, and a fine proof of Dürer's. In +Holbein's, the face leads everything; and the most lovely +qualities of the face lead in that. The cloak and cap are +perfectly painted, just because you look at them neither more +nor less than you would have looked at the cloak in reality. +You don't say, 'How brilliantly they are touched,' as you +would with Rembrandt; nor 'How gracefully they are +neglected,' as you would with Gainsborough; nor 'How +exquisitely they are shaded,' as you would with Lionardo; +nor 'How grandly they are composed,' as you would with +Titian. You say only, 'Erasmus is surely there; and what +a pleasant sight!' You don't think of Holbein at all. He +has not even put in the minutest letter H, that I can see, to +remind you of him. Drops his H's, I regret to say, often +enough. 'My hand should be enough for you; what matters +my name?' But now, look at Dürer's. The very first thing +you see, and at any distance, is this great square tablet with</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The image of Erasmus, drawn from the life by Albert +Dürer, 1526,"</p></div> + +<p>and a great straddling <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> besides. Then you see a cloak, +and a table, and a pot, with flowers in it, and a heap of books<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +with all their leaves and all their clasps, and all the little +bits of leather gummed in to mark the places; and last of all +you see Erasmus's face; and when you do see it, the most of +it is wrinkles.</p> + +<p>All egotism and insanity, this, gentlemen. Hard words to +use; but not too hard to define the faults which rendered so +much of Dürer's great genius abortive, and to this day paralyze, +among the details of a lifeless and ambitious precision, +the student, no less than the artist, of German blood. For +too many an Erasmus, too many a Dürer, among them, the +world is all cloak and clasp, instead of face or book; and the +first object of their lives is to engrave their initials.</p> + +<p>178. For us, in England, not even so much is at present to +be hoped; and yet, singularly enough, it is more our modesty, +unwisely submissive, than our vanity, which has destroyed +our English school of engraving.</p> + +<p>At the bottom of the pretty line engravings which used to +represent, characteristically, our English skill, one saw +always <i>two</i> inscriptions. At the left-hand corner, "Drawn +by—so-and-so;" at the right-hand corner, "Engraved by—so-and-so." +Only under the worst and cheapest plates—for +the Stationers' Almanack, or the like—one saw sometimes, +"Drawn and engraved by—so-and-so," which meant nothing +more than that the publisher would not go to the expense of +an artist, and that the engraver haggled through as he could. +(One fortunate exception, gentlemen, you have in the old +drawings for your Oxford Almanack, though the publishers, +I have no doubt, even in that case, employed the cheapest +artist they could find.<a name="FNanchor_AR_44" id="FNanchor_AR_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_AR_44" class="fnanchor">[AR]</a>) But in general, no engraver thought +himself able to draw; and no artist thought it his business +to engrave.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>179. But the fact that this and the following lecture are +on the subject of design in engraving, implies of course that +in the work we have to examine, it was often the engraver +himself who designed, and as often the artist who engraved.</p> + +<p>And you will observe that the only engravings which bear +imperishable value are, indeed, in this kind. It is true that, +in wood-cutting, both Dürer and Holbein, as in our own days +Leech and Tenniel, have workmen under them who can do +all they want. But in metal cutting it is not so. For, as I +have told you, in metal cutting, ultimate perfection of Line +has to be reached; and it can be reached by none but a +master's hand; nor by his, unless in the very moment and act +of designing. Never, unless under the vivid first force of +imagination and intellect, can the Line have its full value. +And for this high reason, gentlemen, that paradox which +perhaps seemed to you so daring, is nevertheless deeply and +finally true, that while a woodcut may be laboriously +finished, a grand engraving on metal must be comparatively +incomplete. For it must be done, throughout, with the full +fire of temper in it, visibly governing its lines, as the wind +does the fibers of cloud.</p> + +<p>180. The value hitherto attached to Rembrandt's etchings, +and others imitating them, depends on a true instinct in the +public mind for this virtue of line. But etching is an indolent +and blundering method at the best; and I do not doubt that +you will one day be grateful for the severe disciplines of +drawing required in these schools, in that they will have +enabled you to know what a line may be, driven by a master's +chisel on silver or marble, following, and fostering as it +follows, the instantaneous strength of his determined thought.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AG_33" id="Footnote_AG_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AG_33"><span class="label">[AG]</span></a> If you paint a bottle only to amuse the spectator by showing him +how like a painting may be to a bottle, you cannot be considered, in art-philosophy, +as a designer. But if you paint the cork flying out of the +bottle, and the contents arriving in an arch at the mouth of a recipient +glass, you are so far forth a designer or signer; probably meaning to +express certain ultimate facts respecting, say, the hospitable disposition +of the landlord of the house; but at all events representing the bottle +and glass in a designed, and not merely natural, manner. Not merely +natural—nay, in some sense non-natural, or supernatural. And all +great artists show both this fantastic condition of mind in their work, +and show that it has arisen out of a communicative or didactic purpose. +They are the Signpainters of God. +</p><p> +I have added this note to the lecture in copying my memoranda of +it here at Assisi, June 9th, being about to begin work in the Tavern, +or Tabernaculum, of the Lower Church, with its variously significant +four great 'signs.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AH_34" id="Footnote_AH_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AH_34"><span class="label">[AH]</span></a> <a href="#Plate_X">Plate X., Lecture VI.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AI_35" id="Footnote_AI_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AI_35"><span class="label">[AI]</span></a> I do not mean the greatest teacher of reformed faith; but the +greatest protestant against faith unreformed.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AJ_36" id="Footnote_AJ_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AJ_36"><span class="label">[AJ]</span></a> It has become the permitted fashion among modern mathematicians, +chemists, and apothecaries, to call themselves 'scientific men,' as opposed +to theologians, poets, and artists. They know their sphere to be +a separate one; but their ridiculous notion of its being a peculiarly +scientific one ought not to be allowed in our Universities. There is a +science of Morals, a science of History, a science of Grammar, a science +of Music, and a science of Painting; and all these are quite beyond +comparison higher fields for human intellect, and require accuracies +of intenser observation, than either chemistry, electricity, or geology.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AK_37" id="Footnote_AK_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AK_37"><span class="label">[AK]</span></a> The Cumaean Sibyl, <a href="#Plate_VII">Plate VII., Lecture VI.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AL_38" id="Footnote_AL_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AL_38"><span class="label">[AL]</span></a> <a href="#Sect_101">Lecture III., § 101.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AM_39" id="Footnote_AM_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AM_39"><span class="label">[AM]</span></a> I read somewhere, lately, a new and very ingenious theory about +the attitude of the Apollo Belvedere, proving, to the author's satisfaction, +that the received notion about watching the arrow was all a +mistake. The paper proved, at all events, one thing—namely, the +statement in the text. For an attitude which has been always hitherto +taken to mean one thing, and is plausibly asserted now to mean another, +must be in itself unintelligible.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AN_40" id="Footnote_AN_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AN_40"><span class="label">[AN]</span></a> It may be asked, why not corn also? Because that belongs to Ceres, +who is equally one of the great gods.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AO_41" id="Footnote_AO_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AO_41"><span class="label">[AO]</span></a> "Aratra Pentelici," § 181.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AP_42" id="Footnote_AP_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AP_42"><span class="label">[AP]</span></a> Or inventive! See Woltmann, p. 267. "The shinbone, or the +lower part of the arm, exhibits only one bone, while the upper arm +and thigh are often allowed the luxury of two!"</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AQ_43" id="Footnote_AQ_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AQ_43"><span class="label">[AQ]</span></a> See ante, <a href="#Sect_141">§ 141</a>. The "preface" is that to "The Eagle's Nest."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AR_44" id="Footnote_AR_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AR_44"><span class="label">[AR]</span></a> The drawings were made by Turner, and are now among the chief +treasures of the Oxford Galleries. I ought to add some notice of +Hogarth to this lecture in the Appendix; but fear I shall have no time: +besides, though I have profound respect for Hogarth, as, in literature, +I have for Fielding, I can't criticise them, because I know nothing of +their subjects.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="LECTURE_VI" id="LECTURE_VI"></a>LECTURE VI.</h2> + +<h3>DESIGN IN THE FLORENTINE SCHOOLS OF ENGRAVING.</h3> + + +<p>181. In the first of these lectures, I stated to you their +subject, as the investigation of the engraved work of a group +of men, to whom engraving, as a means of popular address, +was above all precious, because their art was distinctively +didactic.</p> + +<p>Some of my hearers must be aware that, of late years, the +assertion that art should be didactic has been clamorously and +violently derided by the countless crowd of artists who have +nothing to represent, and of writers who have nothing to say; +and that the contrary assertion—that art consists only in +pretty colors and fine words,—is accepted, readily enough, +by a public which rarely pauses to look at a picture with +attention, or read a sentence with understanding.</p> + +<p>182. Gentlemen, believe me, there never was any great +advancing art yet, nor can be, without didactic purpose. +The leaders of the strong schools are, and must be always, +either teachers of theology, or preachers of the moral law. +I need not tell you that it was as teachers of theology on the +walls of the Vatican that the masters with whose names you +are most familiar obtained their perpetual fame. But however +great their fame, you have not practically, I imagine, +ever been materially assisted in your preparation for the +schools either of philosophy or divinity by Raphael's +'School of Athens,' by Raphael's 'Theology,'—or by Michael +Angelo's 'Judgment.' My task, to-day, is to set before you +some part of the design of the first Master of the works in +the Sistine Chapel; and I believe that, from his teaching, you +will, even in the hour which I ask you now to give, learn +what may be of true use to you in all your future labor, +whether in Oxford or elsewhere.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>183. You have doubtless, in the course of these lectures, +been occasionally surprised by my speaking of Holbein and +Sandro Botticelli, as Reformers, in the same tone of respect, +and with the same implied assertion of their intellectual +power and agency, with which it is usual to speak of Luther +and Savonarola. You have been accustomed, indeed, to hear +painting and sculpture spoken of as supporting or enforcing +Church doctrine; but never as reforming or chastising it. +Whether Protestant or Roman Catholic, you have admitted +what in the one case you held to be the abuse of painting in +the furtherance of idolatry,—in the other, its amiable and +exalting ministry to the feebleness of faith. But neither has +recognized,—the Protestant his ally,—or the Catholic his +enemy, in the far more earnest work of the great painters of +the fifteenth century. The Protestant was, in most cases, too +vulgar to understand the aid offered to him by painting; and +in all cases too terrified to believe in it. He drove the gift-bringing +Greek with imprecations from his sectarian fortress, +or received him within it only on the condition that he should +speak no word of religion there.</p> + +<p>184. On the other hand, the Catholic, in most cases too +indolent to read, and, in all, too proud to dread, the rebuke of +the reforming painters, confused them with the crowd of his +old flatterers, and little noticed their altered language or +their graver brow. In a little while, finding they had ceased +to be amusing, he effaced their works, not as dangerous, but +as dull; and recognized only thenceforward, as art, the innocuous +bombast of Michael Angelo, and fluent efflorescence of +Bernini. But when you become more intimately and +impartially acquainted with the history of the Reformation, +you will find that, as surely and earnestly as Memling and +Giotto strove in the north and south to set forth and exalt +the Catholic faith, so surely and earnestly did Holbein and +Botticelli strive, in the north, to chastise, and, in the south, +to revive it. In what manner, I will try to-day briefly to +show you.</p> + +<p>185. I name these two men as the reforming leaders: there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +were many, rank and file, who worked in alliance with +Holbein; with Botticelli, two great ones, Lippi and Perugino. +But both of these had so much pleasure in their own pictorial +faculty, that they strove to keep quiet, and out of harm's +way,—involuntarily manifesting themselves sometimes, however; +and not in the wisest manner. Lippi's running away +with a novice was not likely to be understood as a step in +Church reformation correspondent to Luther's marriage.<a name="FNanchor_AS_45" id="FNanchor_AS_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_AS_45" class="fnanchor">[AS]</a> +Nor have Protestant divines, even to this day, recognized the +real meaning of the reports of Perugino's 'infidelity.' Botticelli, +the pupil of the one, and the companion of the other, +held the truths they taught him through sorrow as well as +joy; and he is the greatest of the reformers, because he +preached without blame; though the least known, because +he died without victory.</p> + +<p>I had hoped to be able to lay before you some better +biography of him than the traditions of Vasari, of which I +gave a short abstract some time back in Fors Clavigera +(Letter XXII.); but as yet I have only added internal +evidence to the popular story, the more important points of +which I must review briefly. It will not waste your time if +I read,—instead of merely giving you reference to,—the +passages on which I must comment.</p> + +<p>186. "His father, Mariano Filipepi, a Florentine citizen, +brought him up with care, and caused him to be instructed in +all such things as are usually taught to children before they +choose a calling. But although the boy readily acquired +whatever he wished to learn, yet was he constantly discontented; +neither would he take any pleasure in reading, +writing, or accounts, insomuch that the father, disturbed by +the eccentric habits of his son, turned him over in despair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +to a gossip of his, called Botticello, who was a goldsmith, and +considered a very competent master of his art, to the intent +that the boy might learn the same."</p> + +<p>"He took no pleasure in reading, writing, nor accounts"! +You will find the same thing recorded of Cimabue; but it +is more curious when stated of a man whom I cite to you as +typically a gentleman and a scholar. But remember, in those +days, though there were not so many entirely correct books +issued by the Religious Tract Society for boys to read, there +were a great many more pretty things in the world for boys +to see. The Val d'Arno was Pater-noster Row to purpose; +their Father's Row, with books of His writing on the mountain +shelves. And the lad takes to looking at things, and +thinking about them, instead of reading about them,—which +I commend to you also, as much the more scholarly practice of +the two. To the end, though he knows all about the celestial +hierarchies, he is not strong in his letters, nor in his dialect. +I asked Mr. Tyrwhitt to help me through with a bit of his +Italian the other day. Mr. Tyrwhitt could only help me by +suggesting that it was "Botticelli for so-and-so." And one +of the minor reasons which induced me so boldly to attribute +these sibyls to him, instead of Bandini, is that the lettering +is so ill done. The engraver would assuredly have had his +lettering all right,—or at least neat. Botticelli blunders +through it, scratches impatiently out when he goes wrong: +and as I told you there's no repentance in the engraver's +trade, leaves all the blunders visible.</p> + +<p>187. I may add one fact bearing on this question lately +communicated to me.<a name="FNanchor_AT_46" id="FNanchor_AT_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_AT_46" class="fnanchor">[AT]</a> In the autumn of 1872 I possessed +myself of an Italian book of pen drawings, some, I have no +doubt, by Mantegna in his youth, others by Sandro himself. +In examining these, I was continually struck by the comparatively +feeble and blundering way in which the titles were +written, while all the rest of the handling was really superb; +and still more surprised when, on the sleeves and hem of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +robe of one of the principal figures of women, ("Helena +rapita da Paris,") I found what seemed to be meant for +inscriptions, intricately embroidered; which nevertheless, +though beautifully drawn, I could not read. In copying +Botticelli's Zipporah this spring, I found the border of her +robe wrought with characters of the same kind, which a +young painter, working with me, who already knows the +minor secrets of Italian art better than I,<a name="FNanchor_AU_47" id="FNanchor_AU_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_AU_47" class="fnanchor">[AU]</a> assures me are +letters,—and letters of a language hitherto undeciphered.</p> + +<p>188. "There was at that time a close connection and +almost constant intercourse between the goldsmiths and the +painters, wherefore Sandro, who possessed considerable +ingenuity, and was strongly disposed to the arts of design, +became enamored of painting, and resolved to devote himself +entirely to that vocation. He acknowledged his purpose at +once to his father; and the latter, who knew the force of his +inclination, took him accordingly to the Carmelite monk, +Fra Filippo, who was a most excellent painter of that time, +with whom he placed him to study the art, as Sandro himself +had desired. Devoting himself thereupon entirely to the +vocation he had chosen, Sandro so closely followed the directions, +and imitated the manner, of his master, that Fra +Filippo conceived a great love for him, and instructed him +so effectually, that Sandro rapidly attained to such a degree +in art as none would have predicted for him."</p> + +<p>I have before pointed out to you the importance of training +by the goldsmith. Sandro got more good of it, however, +than any of the other painters so educated,—being enabled +by it to use gold for light to color, in a glowing harmony +never reached with equal perfection, and rarely attempted, +in the later schools. To the last, his paintings are partly +treated as work in niello; and he names himself, in perpetual +gratitude, from this first artisan master. Nevertheless, the +fortunate fellow finds, at the right moment, another, even +more to his mind, and is obedient to him through his youth, +as to the other through his childhood. And this master loves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +him; and instructs him 'so effectually,'—in grinding colors, +do you suppose, only; or in laying of lines only; or in anything +more than these?</p> + +<p>189. I will tell you what Lippi must have taught any boy +whom he loved. First, humility, and to live in joy and +peace, injuring no man—if such innocence might be. Nothing +is so manifest in every face by him, as its gentleness and +rest. Secondly, to finish his work perfectly, and in such +temper that the angels might say of it—not he himself—'Iste +perfecit opus.' Do you remember what I told you in the +Eagle's Nest (§ 53), that true humility was in hoping that +angels might sometimes admire <i>our</i> work; not in hoping that +we should ever be able to admire <i>theirs</i>? Thirdly,—a little +thing it seems, but was a great one,—love of flowers. No one +draws such lilies or such daisies as Lippi. Botticelli beat +him afterwards in roses, but never in lilies. Fourthly, due +honor for classical tradition. Lippi is the only religious +painter who dresses John Baptist in the camelskin, as the +Greeks dressed Heracles in the lion's—over the head. Lastly, +and chiefly of all,—Le Père Hyacinthe taught his pupil +certain views about the doctrine of the Church, which the boy +thought of more deeply than his tutor, and that by a great +deal; and Master Sandro presently got himself into such +question for painting heresy, that if he had been as hot-headed +as he was true-hearted, he would soon have come to +bad end by the tar-barrel. But he is so sweet and so modest, +that nobody is frightened; so clever, that everybody is +pleased: and at last, actually the Pope sends for him to +paint his own private chapel,—where the first thing my +young gentleman does, mind you, is to paint the devil in a +monk's dress, tempting Christ! The sauciest thing, out and +out, done in the history of the Reformation, it seems to me; +yet so wisely done, and with such true respect otherwise +shown for what was sacred in the Church, that the Pope +didn't mind: and all went on as merrily as marriage bells.</p> + +<p>190. I have anticipated, however, in telling you this, the +proper course of his biography, to which I now return.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"While still a youth he painted the figure of Fortitude, +among those pictures of the Virtues which Antonio and +Pietro Pollaiuolo were executing in the Mercatanzia, or +Tribunal of Commerce, in Florence. In Santo Spirito, a +church of the same city, he painted a picture for the chapel +of the Bardi family: this work he executed with great diligence, +and finished it very successfully, depicting certain +olive and palm trees therein with extraordinary care."</p> + +<p>It is by a beautiful chance that the first work of his, +specified by his Italian biographer, should be the Fortitude.<a name="FNanchor_AV_48" id="FNanchor_AV_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_AV_48" class="fnanchor">[AV]</a> +Note also what is said of his tree drawing.</p> + +<p>"Having, in consequence of this work, obtained much +credit and reputation, Sandro was appointed by the Guild of +Porta Santa Maria to paint a picture in San Marco, the +subject of which is the Coronation of Our Lady, who is +surrounded by a choir of angels—the whole extremely well +designed, and finished by the artist with infinite care. He +executed various works in the Medici Palace for the elder +Lorenzo, more particularly a figure of Pallas on a shield +wreathed with vine branches, whence flames are proceeding: +this he painted of the size of life. A San Sebastiano was +also among the most remarkable of the works executed for +Lorenzo. In the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, in Florence, +is a Pietà, with small figures, by this master: this is +a very beautiful work. For different houses in various parts +of the city Sandro painted many pictures of a round form, +with numerous figures of women undraped. Of these there +are still two examples at Castello, a villa of the Duke Cosimo,—one +representing the birth of Venus, who is borne to earth +by the Loves and Zephyrs; the second also presenting the +figure of Venus crowned with flowers by the Graces: she is +here intended to denote the Spring, and the allegory is +expressed by the painter with extraordinary grace."</p> + +<p>Our young Reformer enters, it seems, on a very miscellaneous +course of study; the Coronation of Our Lady; St.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +Sebastian; Pallas in vine-leaves; and Venus,—without fig-leaves. +Not wholly Calvinistic, Fra Filippo's teaching seems +to have been! All the better for the boy—being such a boy +as he was: but I cannot in this lecture enter farther into my +reasons for saying so.</p> + +<p>191. Vasari, however, has shot far ahead in telling us of +this picture of the Spring, which is one of Botticelli's completest +works. Long before he was able to paint Greek +nymphs, he had done his best in idealism of greater spirits; +and, while yet quite a youth, painted, at Castello, the Assumption +of Our Lady, with "the patriarchs, the prophets, the +apostles, the evangelists, the martyrs, the confessors, the +doctors, the virgins, and the hierarchies!"</p> + +<p>Imagine this subject proposed to a young, (or even old) +British Artist, for his next appeal to public sensation at the +Academy! But do you suppose that the young British artist +is wiser and more civilized than Lippi's scholar, because his +only idea of a patriarch is of a man with a long beard; of +a doctor, the M.D. with the brass plate over the way; and of +a virgin, Miss —— of the —— theater?</p> + +<p>Not that even Sandro was able, according to Vasari's +report, to conduct the entire design himself. The proposer of +the subject assisted him; and they made some modifications +in the theology, which brought them both into trouble—so +early did Sandro's innovating work begin, into which subjects +our gossiping friend waives unnecessary inquiry, as +follows.</p> + +<p>"But although this picture is exceedingly beautiful, and +ought to have put envy to shame, yet there were found certain +malevolent and censorious persons who, not being able to +affix any other blame to the work, declared that Matteo and +Sandro had erred gravely in that matter, and had fallen into +grievous heresy.</p> + +<p>"Now, whether this be true or not, let none expect the +judgment of that question from me: it shall suffice me to +note that the figures executed by Sandro in that work are +entirely worthy of praise; and that the pains he took in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +depicting those circles of the heavens must have been very +great, to say nothing of the angels mingled with the other +figures, or of the various foreshortenings, all which are +designed in a very good manner.</p> + +<p>"About this time Sandro received a commission to paint +a small picture with figures three parts of a braccio high,—the +subject an Adoration of the Magi.</p> + +<p>"It is indeed a most admirable work; the composition, the +design, and the coloring are so beautiful that every artist who +examines it is astonished; and, at the time, it obtained so +great a name in Florence, and other places, for the master, +that Pope Sixtus IV. having erected the chapel built by him +in his palace at Rome, and desiring to have it adorned with +paintings, commanded that Sandro Botticelli should be +appointed Superintendent of the work."</p> + +<p>192. Vasari's words, "about this time," are evidently +wrong. It must have been many and many a day after he +painted Matteo's picture that he took such high standing in +Florence as to receive the mastership of the works in the +Pope's chapel at Rome. Of his position and doings there, I +will tell you presently; meantime, let us complete the story +of his life.</p> + +<p>"By these works Botticelli obtained great honor and reputation +among the many competitors who were laboring with +him, whether Florentines or natives of other cities, and received +from the Pope a considerable sum of money; but this +he consumed and squandered totally, during his residence in +Rome, where he lived without due care, as was his habit."</p> + +<p>193. Well, but one would have liked to hear <i>how</i> he squandered +his money, and whether he was without care—of other +things than money.</p> + +<p>It is just possible, Master Vasari, that Botticelli may have +laid out his money at higher interest than you know of; +meantime, he is advancing in life and thought, and becoming +less and less comprehensible to his biographer. And at +length, having got rid, somehow, of the money he received +from the Pope; and finished the work he had to do, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +uncovered it,—free in conscience, and empty in purse, he +returned to Florence, where, "being a sophistical person, he +made a comment on a part of Dante, and drew the Inferno, +and put it in engraving, in which he consumed much time; +and not working for this reason, brought infinite disorder into +his affairs."</p> + +<p>194. Unpaid work, this engraving of Dante, you perceive,—consuming +much time also, and not appearing to Vasari +to be work at all. It is but a short sentence, gentlemen,—this, +in the old edition of Vasari, and obscurely worded,—a +very foolish person's contemptuous report of a thing to him +totally incomprehensible. But the thing itself is out-and-out +the most important fact in the history of the religious art +of Italy. I can show you its significance in not many more +words than have served to record it.</p> + +<p>Botticelli had been painting in Rome; and had expressly +chosen to represent there,—being Master of Works, in the +presence of the Defender of the Faith,—the foundation of +the Mosaic law; to his mind the Eternal Law of God,—that +law of which modern Evangelicals sing perpetually their +own original psalm, "Oh, how hate I Thy law! it is my +abomination all the day." Returning to Florence, he reads +Dante's vision of the Hell created by its violation. He +knows that the pictures he has painted in Rome cannot be +understood by the people; they are exclusively for the best +trained scholars in the Church. Dante, on the other hand, +can only be read in manuscript; but the people could and +would understand <i>his</i> lessons, if they were pictured in accessible +and enduring form. He throws all his own lauded work +aside,—all for which he is most honored, and in which his +now matured and magnificent skill is as easy to him as singing +to a perfect musician. And he sets himself to a servile +and despised labor,—his friends mocking him, his resources +failing him, infinite 'disorder' getting into his affairs—of +this world.</p> + +<p>195. Never such another thing happened in Italy any +more. Botticelli engraved her Pilgrim's Progress for her,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +putting himself in prison to do it. She would not read it +when done. Raphael and Marc Antonio were the theologians +for her money. Pretty Madonnas, and satyrs with +abundance of tail,—let our pilgrim's progress be in <i>these</i> +directions, if you please.</p> + +<p>Botticelli's own pilgrimage, however, was now to be accomplished +triumphantly, with such crowning blessings as Heaven +might grant to him. In spite of his friends and his disordered +affairs, he went his own obstinate way; and found +another man's words worth engraving as well as Dante's; +not without perpetuating, also, what he deemed worthy of +his own.</p> + +<p>196. What would that be, think you? His chosen works +before the Pope in Rome?—his admired Madonnas in +Florence?—his choirs of angels and thickets of flowers? +Some few of these yes, as you shall presently see; but "the +best attempt of this kind from his hand is the Triumph of +Faith, by Fra Girolamo Savonarola, of Ferrara, of whose +sect our artist was so zealous a partisan that he totally +abandoned painting, and not having any other means of +living, he fell into very great difficulties. But his attachment +to the party he had adopted increased; he became what was +then called a Piagnone, or Mourner, and abandoned all labor; +insomuch that, finding himself at length become old, being +also very poor, he must have died of hunger had he not been +supported by Lorenzo de' Medici, for whom he had worked +at the small hospital of Volterra and other places, who +assisted him while he lived, as did other friends and admirers +of his talents."</p> + +<p>197. In such dignity and independence—having employed +his talents not wholly at the orders of the dealer—died, a +poor bedesman of Lorenzo de' Medici, the President of that +high academy of art in Rome, whose Academicians were +Perugino, Ghirlandajo, Angelico, and Signorelli; and whose +students, Michael Angelo and Raphael.</p> + +<p>'A worthless, ill-conducted fellow on the whole,' thinks +Vasari, 'with a crazy fancy for scratching on copper.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>Well, here are some of the scratches for you to see; only, +first, I must ask you seriously for a few moments to consider +what the two powers were, which, with this iron pen of his, +he has set himself to reprove.</p> + +<p>198. Two great forms of authority reigned over the entire +civilized world, confessedly, and by name, in the Middle +Ages. They reign over it still, and must forever, though +at present very far from confessed; and, in most places, +ragingly denied.</p> + +<p>The first power is that of the Teacher, or true Father; +the Father 'in God.' It may be—happy the children to +whom it is—the actual father also; and whose parents have +been their tutors. But, for the most part, it will be some one +else who teaches them, and molds their minds and brain. +All such teaching, when true, being from above, and coming +down from the Father of Lights, with whom is no variableness, +neither shadow of turning, is properly that of the holy +Catholic 'εκκλησια,' council, church, or papacy, of many fathers +in God, not of one. Eternally powerful and divine; reverenced +of all humble and lowly scholars, in Jewry, in Greece, +in Rome, in Gaul, in England, and beyond sea, from Arctic +zone to zone.</p> + +<p>The second authority is the power of National Law, enforcing +justice in conduct by due reward and punishment. Power +vested necessarily in magistrates capable of administering it +with mercy and equity; whose authority, be it of many or +few, is again divine, as proceeding from the King of kings, +and was acknowledged, throughout civilized Christendom, +as the power of the Holy Empire, or Holy Roman Empire, +because first throned in Rome; but it is forever also acknowledged, +namelessly, or by name, by all loyal, obedient, just, +and humble hearts, which truly desire that, whether for them +or against them, the eternal equities and dooms of Heaven +should be pronounced and executed; and as the wisdom or +word of their Father should be taught, so the will of their +Father should be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.</p> + +<p>199. You all here know what contention, first, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +what corruption and dishonor, had paralyzed these two powers +before the days of which we now speak. Reproof, and either +reform or rebellion, became necessary everywhere. The +northern Reformers, Holbein, and Luther, and Henry, and +Cromwell, set themselves to their task rudely, and, it might +seem, carried it through. The southern Reformers, Dante, +and Savonarola, and Botticelli, set hand to their task +reverently, and, it seemed, did not by any means carry it +through. But the end is not yet.</p> + +<p><a id="Sect_200" name="Sect_200"></a>200. Now I shall endeavor to-day to set before you the +art of Botticelli, especially as exhibiting the modesty of +great imagination trained in reverence, which characterized +the southern Reformers; and as opposed to the immodesty +of narrow imagination, trained in self-trust, which characterized +the northern Reformers.</p> + +<p>'The modesty of great <i>imagination</i>;' that is to say, of the +power which conceives all things in true relation, and not +only as they affect ourselves. I can show you this most +definitely by taking one example of the modern, and +unschooled temper, in Bewick;<a name="FNanchor_AW_49" id="FNanchor_AW_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_AW_49" class="fnanchor">[AW]</a> and setting it beside Botticelli's +treatment of the same subject of thought,—namely, +the meaning of war, and the reforms necessary in the carrying +on of war.</p> + +<p>201. Both the men are entirely at one in their purpose. +They yearn for peace and justice to rule over the earth, instead +of the sword; but see how differently they will say what +is in their hearts to the people they address. To Bewick, +war was more an absurdity than it was a horror: he had not +seen battle-fields, still less had he read of them, in ancient +days. He cared nothing about heroes,—Greek, Roman, or +Norman. What he knew, and saw clearly, was that Farmer +Hodge's boy went out of the village one holiday afternoon, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +fine young fellow, rather drunk, with a colored ribbon in +his hat; and came back, ten years afterwards, with one leg, +one eye, an old red coat, and a tobacco-pipe in the pocket of +it. That is what he has got to say, mainly. So, for the +pathetic side of the business, he draws you two old soldiers +meeting as bricklayers' laborers; and for the absurd side of +it, he draws a stone, sloping sideways with age, in a bare +field, on which you can just read, out of a long inscription, +the words "glorious victory;" but no one is there to read +them,—only a jackass, who uses the stone to scratch himself +against.</p> + +<p>202. Now compare with this Botticelli's reproof of war. +<i>He</i> had seen it, and often; and between noble persons;—knew +the temper in which the noblest knights went out to it;—knew +the strength, the patience, the glory, and the grief of +it. He would fain see his Florence in peace; and yet he +knows that the wisest of her citizens are her bravest soldiers. +So he seeks for the ideal of a soldier, and for the greatest +glory of war, that in the presence of these he may speak +reverently, what he must speak. He does not go to Greece for +his hero. He is not sure that even her patriotic wars were +always right. But, by his religious faith, he cannot doubt +the nobleness of the soldier who put the children of Israel in +possession of their promised land, and to whom the sign of +the consent of heaven was given by its pausing light in the +valley of Ajalon. Must then setting sun and risen moon +stay, he thinks, only to look upon slaughter? May no soldier +of Christ bid them stay otherwise than so? He draws +Joshua, but quitting his hold of the sword: its hilt rests on +his bent knee; and he kneels before the sun, not commands +it; and this is his prayer:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, King of kings, and Lord of lords, who alone rulest +always in eternity, and who correctest all our wanderings,—Giver +of melody to the choir of the angels, listen Thou a +little to our bitter grief, and come and rule us, oh Thou +highest King, with Thy love which is so sweet!"</p> + +<p>Is not that a little better, and a little wiser, than Bewick's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +jackass? Is it not also better, and wiser, than the sneer of +modern science? 'What great men are we!—we, forsooth, +can make almanacs, and know that the earth turns round. +Joshua indeed! Let us have no more talk of the old-clothes-man.'</p> + +<p>All Bewick's simplicity is in that; but none of Bewick's +understanding.</p> + +<p>203. I pass to the attack made by Botticelli upon the +guilt of wealth. So I had at first written; but I should +rather have written, the appeal made by him against the +cruelty of wealth, then first attaining the power it has +maintained to this day.</p> + +<p>The practice of receiving interest had been confined, until +this fifteenth century, with contempt and malediction, to the +profession, so styled, of usurers, or to the Jews. The merchants +of Augsburg introduced it as a convenient and +pleasant practice among Christians also; and insisted that +it was decorous and proper even among respectable merchants. +In the view of the Christian Church of their day, they might +more reasonably have set themselves to defend adultery.<a name="FNanchor_AX_50" id="FNanchor_AX_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_AX_50" class="fnanchor">[AX]</a> +However, they appointed Dr. John Eck, of Ingoldstadt, to +hold debates in all possible universities, at their expense, on +the allowing of interest; and as these Augsburgers had in +Venice their special mart, Fondaco, called of the Germans, +their new notions came into direct collision with old Venetian +ones, and were much hindered by them, and all the more, +because, in opposition to Dr. John Eck, there was preaching +on the other side of the Alps. The Franciscans, poor themselves, +preached mercy to the poor: one of them, Brother +Marco of San Gallo, planned the 'Mount of Pity' for their +defense, and the merchants of Venice set up the first in the +world, against the German Fondaco. The dispute burned +far on towards our own times. You perhaps have heard +before of one Antonio, a merchant of Venice, who persistently +retained the then obsolete practice of lending money +gratis, and of the peril it brought him into with the usurers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +But you perhaps did not before know why it was the flesh, or +heart of flesh, in him, that they so hated.</p> + +<p>204. Against this newly risen demon of authorized usury, +Holbein and Botticelli went out to war together. Holbein, +as we have partly seen in his designs for the Dance of Death, +struck with all his soldier's strength.<a name="FNanchor_AY_51" id="FNanchor_AY_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_AY_51" class="fnanchor">[AY]</a> Botticelli uses neither +satire nor reproach. He turns altogether away from the +criminals; appeals only to heaven for defense against them. +He engraves the design which, of all his work, must have +cost him hardest toil in its execution,—the Virgin praying +to her Son in heaven for pity upon the poor: "For these +are also my children."<a name="FNanchor_AZ_52" id="FNanchor_AZ_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_AZ_52" class="fnanchor">[AZ]</a> Underneath, are the seven works +of Mercy; and in the midst of them, the building of the +Mount of Pity: in the distance lies Italy, mapped in cape +and bay, with the cities which had founded mounts of pity,—Venice +in the distance, chief. Little seen, but engraved +with the master's loveliest care, in the background there is +a group of two small figures—the Franciscan brother kneeling, +and an angel of Victory crowning him.</p> + +<p>205. I call it an angel of Victory, observe, with assurance; +although there is no legend claiming victory, or distinguishing +this angel from any other of those which adorn with +crowns of flowers the nameless crowds of the blessed. For +Botticelli has other ways of speaking than by written legends. +I know by a glance at this angel that he has taken the action +of it from a Greek coin; and I know also that he had not, +in his own exuberant fancy, the least need to copy the action +of any figure whatever. So I understand, as well as if he +spoke to me, that he expects me, if I am an educated gentleman, +to recognize this particular action as a Greek angel's; +and to know that it is a temporal victory which it crowns.</p> + +<p>206. And now farther, observe, that this classical learning +of Botticelli's, received by him, as I told you, as a native +element of his being, gives not only greater dignity and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +gentleness, but far wider range, to his thoughts of Reformation. +As he asks for pity from the cruel Jew to the <i>poor</i> +Gentile, so he asks for pity from the proud Christian to the +<i>untaught</i> Gentile. Nay, for more than pity, for fellowship, +and acknowledgment of equality before God. The learned +men of his age in general brought back the Greek mythology +as anti-Christian. But Botticelli and Perugino, as pre-Christian; +nor only as pre-Christian, but as the foundation of +Christianity. But chiefly Botticelli, with perfect grasp of +the Mosaic and classic theology, thought over and seized the +harmonies of both; and he it was who gave the conception of +that great choir of the prophets and sibyls, of which Michael +Angelo, more or less ignorantly borrowing it in the Sistine +Chapel, in great part lost the meaning, while he magnified +the aspect.</p> + +<p>207. For, indeed, all Christian and heathen mythology had +alike become to Michael Angelo only a vehicle for the display +of his own powers of drawing limbs and trunks: and +having resolved, and made the world of his day believe, +that all the glory of design lay in variety of difficult attitude, +he flings the naked bodies about his ceiling with an upholsterer's +ingenuity of appliance to the corners they could fit, +but with total absence of any legible meaning. Nor do I +suppose that one person in a million, even of those who have +some acquaintance with the earlier masters, takes patience +in the Sistine Chapel to conceive the original design. But +Botticelli's mastership of the works evidently was given to +him as a theologian, even more than as a painter; and the +moment when he came to Rome to receive it, you may hold +for the crisis of the Reformation in Italy. The main effort to +save her priesthood was about to be made by her wisest +Reformer,—face to face with the head of her Church,—not +in contest with him, but in the humblest subjection to him; +and in adornment of his own chapel for his own delight, and +more than delight, if it might be.</p> + +<p>208. Sandro brings to work, not under him, but with +him, the three other strongest and worthiest men he knows,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +Perugino, Ghirlandajo, and Luca Signorelli. There is evidently +entire fellowship in thought between Botticelli and +Perugino. They two together plan the whole; and Botticelli, +though the master, yields to Perugino the principal place, +the end of the chapter, on which is to be the Assumption of the +Virgin. It was Perugino's favorite subject, done with his +central strength; assuredly the crowning work of his life, +and of lovely Christian art in Europe.</p> + +<p>Michael Angelo painted it out, and drew devils and dead +bodies all over the wall instead. But there remains to us, +happily, the series of subjects designed by Botticelli to lead +up to this lost one.</p> + +<p>209. He came, I said, not to attack, but to restore the Papal +authority. To show the power of inherited honor, and universal +claim of divine law, in the Jewish and Christian +Church,—the law delivered first by Moses; then, in final +grace and truth, by Christ.</p> + +<p>He designed twelve great pictures, each containing some +twenty figures the size of life, and groups of smaller ones +scarcely to be counted. Twelve pictures,—six to illustrate +the giving of the law by Moses; and six, the ratification and +completion of it by Christ. Event by event, the jurisprudence +of each dispensation is traced from dawn to close in +this correspondence.</p> + +<ol> +<li>Covenant of Circumcision.</li> +<li>Entrance on his Ministry by Moses.</li> +<li>Moses by the Red Sea.</li> +<li>Delivery of Law on Sinai.</li> +<li>Destruction of Korah.</li> +<li>Death of Moses.</li> +<li>Covenant of Baptism.</li> +<li>Entrance on His Ministry by Christ.</li> +<li>Peter and Andrew by the Sea of Galilee.</li> +<li>Sermon on Mount.</li> +<li>Giving Keys to St. Peter.</li> +<li>Last Supper.</li> +</ol> + +<p>Of these pictures, Sandro painted three himself, Perugino +three, and the Assumption; Ghirlandajo one, Signorelli one,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +and Rosselli four.<a name="FNanchor_BA_53" id="FNanchor_BA_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_BA_53" class="fnanchor">[BA]</a> I believe that Sandro intended to take +the roof also, and had sketched out the main succession of its +design; and that the prophets and sibyls which he meant to +paint, he drew first small, and engraved his drawings afterwards, +that some part of the work might be, at all events, thus +communicable to the world outside of the Vatican.</p> + +<p>210. It is not often that I tell you my beliefs; but I am +forced here, for there are no dates to found more on. Is +it not wonderful that among all the infinite mass of fools' +thoughts about the "majestic works of Michael Angelo" in +the Sistine Chapel, no slightly more rational person has ever +asked what the chapel was first meant to be like, and how +it was to be roofed?</p> + +<p>Nor can I assume myself, still less you, that all these +prophets and sibyls are Botticelli's. Of many there are two +engravings, with variations: some are inferior in parts, many +altogether. He signed none; never put grand tablets with +'S. B.' into his skies; had other letters than those to engrave, +and no time to spare. I have chosen out of the series three +of the sibyls, which have, I think, clear internal evidence of +being his; and these you shall compare with Michael Angelo's. +But first I must put you in mind what the sibyls were.</p> + +<p>211. As the prophets represent the voice of God in man, +the sibyls represent the voice of God in nature. They are +properly all forms of one sibyl, Διος Βουλη, the counsel of God; +and the chief one, at least in the Roman mind, was the Sibyl +of Cumae. From the traditions of her, the Romans, and we +through them, received whatever lessons the myth, or fact, of +sibyl power has given to mortals.</p> + +<p>How much have you received, or may you yet receive, think +you, of that teaching? I call it the myth, or fact; but remember +that, <i>as</i> a myth, it <i>is</i> a fact. This story has concentrated +whatever good there is in the imagination or visionary +powers in women, inspired by nature only. The traditions +of witch and gypsy are partly its offshoots. You despise both, +perhaps. But can you, though in utmost pride of your su<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>preme +modern wisdom, suppose that the character—say, even +of so poor and far-fallen a sibyl as Meg Merrilies—is only +the coinage of Scott's brain; or that, even being no more, it +is valueless? Admit the figure of the Cumaean Sibyl, in +like manner, to be the coinage only of Virgil's brain. As +such, it, and the words it speaks, are yet facts in which we +may find use, if we are reverent to them.</p> + +<p>To me, personally, (I must take your indulgence for a moment +to speak wholly of myself,) they have been of the truest +service—quite material and indisputable.</p> + +<p>I am writing on St. John's Day, in the monastery of Assisi; +and I had no idea whatever, when I sat down to my work +this morning, of saying any word of what I am now going to +tell you. I meant only to expand and explain a little what I +said in my lecture about the Florentine engraving. But it +seems to me now that I had better tell you what the Cumaean +Sibyl has actually done for me.</p> + +<p>212. In 1871, partly in consequence of chagrin at the Revolution +in Paris, and partly in great personal sorrow, I was +struck by acute inflammatory illness at Matlock, and reduced +to a state of extreme weakness; lying at one time unconscious +for some hours, those about me having no hope of my life. +I have no doubt that the immediate cause of the illness was +simply, eating when I was not hungry; so that modern science +would acknowledge nothing in the whole business but an extreme +and very dangerous form of indigestion; and entirely +deny any interference of the Cumaean Sibyl in the matter.</p> + +<p>I once heard a sermon by Dr. Guthrie, in Edinburgh, upon +the wickedness of fasting. It was very eloquent and ingenious, +and finely explained the superiority of the Scotch Free +Church to the benighted Catholic Church, in that the Free +Church saw no merit in fasting. And there was no mention, +from beginning to end of the sermon, of even the existence of +such texts as Daniel i. 12, or Matthew vi. 16.</p> + +<p>Without the smallest merit, I admit, in fasting, I was +nevertheless reduced at Matlock to a state very near starvation; +and could not rise from my pillow, without being lifted,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +for some days. And in the first clearly pronounced stage of +recovery, when the perfect powers of spirit had returned, +while the body was still as weak as it well could be, I had +three dreams, which made a great impression on me; for in +ordinary health my dreams are supremely ridiculous, if not +unpleasant; and in ordinary conditions of illness, very ugly, +and always without the slightest meaning. But these dreams +were all distinct and impressive, and had much meaning, if +I chose to take it.</p> + +<p>213. The first<a name="FNanchor_BB_54" id="FNanchor_BB_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_BB_54" class="fnanchor">[BB]</a> was of a Venetian fisherman, who wanted +me to follow him down into some water which I thought was +too deep; but he called me on, saying he had something to +show me; so I followed him; and presently, through an opening, +as if in the arsenal wall, he showed me the bronze horses +of St. Mark's, and said, 'See, the horses are putting on their +harness.'</p> + +<p>The second was of a preparation at Rome, in St. Peter's, +(or a vast hall as large as St. Peter's,) for the exhibition of +a religious drama. Part of the play was to be a scene in +which demons were to appear in the sky; and the stage +servants were arranging gray fictitious clouds, and painted +fiends, for it, under the direction of the priests. There was +a woman dressed in black, standing at the corner of the stage +watching them, having a likeness in her face to one of my own +dead friends; and I knew somehow that she was not that +friend, but a spirit; and she made me understand, without +speaking, that I was to watch, for the play would turn out +other than the priests expected. And I waited; and when +the scene came on, the clouds became real clouds, and the +fiends real fiends, agitating them in slow quivering, wild and +terrible, over the heads of the people and priests. I recollected +distinctly, however, when I woke, only the figure of the +black woman mocking the people, and of one priest in an +agony of terror, with the sweat pouring from his brow, but +violently scolding one of the stage servants for having failed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +in some ceremony, the omission of which, he thought, had +given the devils their power.</p> + +<p>The third dream was the most interesting and personal. +Some one came to me to ask me to help in the deliverance of +a company of Italian prisoners who were to be ransomed for +money. I said I had no money. They answered, Yes, I +had some that belonged to me as a brother of St. Francis, if +I would give it up. I said I did not know even that I <i>was</i> +a brother of St. Francis; but I thought to myself, that perhaps +the Franciscans of Fésole, whom I had helped to make +hay in their field in 1845, had adopted me for one; only I +didn't see how the consequence of that would be my having +any money. However, I said they were welcome to whatever +I had; and then I heard the voice of an Italian woman singing; +and I have never heard such divine singing before nor +since;—the sounds absolutely strong and real, and the melody +altogether lovely. If I could have written it! But I could +not even remember it when I woke,—only how beautiful it +was.</p> + +<p>214. Now these three dreams have, every one of them, been +of much use to me since; or so far as they have failed to be +useful, it has been my own fault, and not theirs; but the chief +use of them at the time was to give me courage and confidence +in myself, both in bodily distress, of which I had still not a +little to bear; and worse, much mental anxiety about matters +supremely interesting to me, which were turning out ill. +And through all such trouble—which came upon me as I was +recovering, as if it meant to throw me back into the grave,—I +held out and recovered, repeating always to myself, or rather +having always murmured in my ears, at every new trial, one +Latin line,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tu ne cede malis, sed contra fortior ito.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Now I had got this line out of the tablet in the engraving of +Raphael's vision, and had forgotten where it came from. +And I thought I knew my sixth book of Virgil so well, that +I never looked at it again while I was giving these lectures<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +at Oxford, and it was only here at Assisi, the other day, wanting +to look more accurately at the first scene by the lake Avernus, +that I found I had been saved by the words of the +Cumaean Sibyl.</p> + +<p>215. "Quam tua te Fortuna sinet," the completion of the +sentence, has yet more and continual teaching in it for me +now; as it has for all men. Her opening words, which have +become hackneyed, and lost all present power through vulgar +use of them, contain yet one of the most immortal truths ever +yet spoken for mankind; and they will never lose their power +of help for noble persons. But observe, both in that lesson, +"Facilis descensus Averni," etc.; and in the still more precious, +because universal, one on which the strength of Rome +was founded,—the burning of the books,—the Sibyl speaks +only as the voice of Nature, and of her laws;—not as a divine +helper, prevailing over death; but as a mortal teacher warning +us against it, and strengthening us for our mortal time; +but not for eternity. Of which lesson her own history is a +part, and her habitation by the Avernus lake. She desires +immortality, fondly and vainly, as we do ourselves. She receives, +from the love of her <i>refused</i> lover, Apollo, not immortality, +but length of life;—her years to be as the grains of +dust in her hand. And even this she finds was a false desire; +and her wise and holy desire at last is—to die. She wastes +away; becomes a shade only, and a voice. The Nations ask +her, What wouldst thou? She answers, Peace; only let my +last words be true. "L'ultimo mie parlar sie verace."</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;"> +<a id="Plate_VII" name="Plate_VII"></a> +<img src="images/image161.png" width="430" height="694" alt="VII. For a time, and times." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">VII.</p> +<p class="caption center">For a time, and times.</p> +</div> + +<p>216. Therefore, if anything is to be conceived, rightly, +and chiefly, in the form of the Cumaean Sibyl, it must be of +fading virginal beauty, of enduring patience, of far-looking +into futurity. "For after my death there shall yet return," +she says, "another virgin."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jam redit et virgo;—redeunt Saturnia regna,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ultima Cumaei venit jam carminis aetas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Here then is Botticelli's Cumaean Sibyl. She is armed, for +she is the prophetess of Roman fortitude;—but her faded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +breast scarcely raises the corselet; her hair floats, not falls, in +waves like the currents of a river,—the sign of enduring life; +the light is full on her forehead: she looks into the distance +as in a dream. It is impossible for art to gather together +more beautifully or intensely every image which can express +her true power, or lead us to understand her lesson.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"> +<a id="Plate_VIII" name="Plate_VIII"></a> +<img src="images/image164.png" width="420" height="559" alt="VIII. The Nymph beloved of Apollo." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">VIII.</p> +<p class="caption center">The Nymph beloved of Apollo.</p> +<p class="caption center">(MICHAEL ANGELO.)</p> +</div> + +<p>217. Now you do not, I am well assured, know one of +Michael Angelo's sibyls from another: unless perhaps the +Delphian, whom of course he makes as beautiful as he can. +But of this especially Italian prophetess, one would have +thought he might, at least in some way, have shown that he +knew the history, even if he did not understand it. She +might have had more than one book, at all events, to burn. +She might have had a stray leaf or two fallen at her feet. +He could not indeed have painted her only as a voice; but his +anatomical knowledge need not have hindered him from +painting her virginal youth, or her wasting and watching +age, or her inspired hope of a holier future.</p> + +<p>218. Opposite,—fortunately, photograph from the figure +itself, so that you can suspect me of no exaggeration,—is +Michael Angelo's Cumaean Sibyl, wasting away. It is by a +grotesque and most strange chance that he should have made +the figure of this Sibyl, of all others in the chapel, the most +fleshly and gross, even proceeding to the monstrous license of +showing the nipples of the breast as if the dress were molded +over them like plaster. Thus he paints the poor nymph beloved +of Apollo,—the clearest and queenliest in prophecy and +command of all the sibyls,—as an ugly crone, with the arms +of Goliath, poring down upon a single book.</p> + +<p>219. There is one point of fine detail, however, in Botticelli's +Cumaean Sibyl, and in the next I am going to show +you, to explain which I must go back for a little while to the +question of the direct relation of the Italian painters to the +Greek. I don't like repeating in one lecture what I have said +in another; but to save you the trouble of reference, must remind +you of what I stated in my fourth lecture on Greek +birds, when we were examining the adoption of the plume<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +crests in armor, that the crest signifies command; but the diadem, +<i>obedience</i>; and that every crown is primarily a diadem. +It is the thing that binds, before it is the thing that honors.</p> + +<p>Now all the great schools dwell on this symbolism. The +long flowing hair is the symbol of life, and the διάδημα of the +law restraining it. Royalty, or kingliness, over life, restraining +and glorifying. In the extremity of restraint—in +death, whether noble, as of death to Earth, or ignoble, as of +death to Heaven, the διάδημα is fastened with the mort-cloth: +"Bound hand and foot with grave-clothes, and the face bound +about with the napkin."</p> + +<p>220. Now look back to the first Greek head I ever showed +you, used as the type of archaic sculpture in Aratra Pentelici, +and then look at the crown in Botticelli's Astrologia. It is +absolutely the Greek form,—even to the peculiar oval of the +forehead; while the diadem—the governing law—is set with +appointed stars—to rule the destiny and thought. Then return +to the Cumaean Sibyl. She, as we have seen, is the symbol +of enduring life—almost immortal. The diadem is withdrawn +from the forehead—reduced to a narrow fillet—here, +and the hair thrown free.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;"> +<a id="Plate_IX" name="Plate_IX"></a> +<img src="images/image167.png" width="398" height="654" alt="IX. In the woods of Ida." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">IX.</p> +<p class="caption center">In the woods of Ida.</p> +</div> + +<p>221. From the Cumaean Sibyl's diadem, traced only by +points, turn to that of the Hellespontic, (Plate 9, opposite). +I do not know why Botticelli chose her for the spirit of prophecy +in old age; but he has made this the most interesting +plate of the series in the definiteness of its connection with +the work from Dante, which becomes his own prophecy in old +age. The fantastic yet solemn treatment of the gnarled wood +occurs, as far as I know, in no other engravings but this, and +the illustrations to Dante; and I am content to leave it, with +little comment, for the reader's quiet study, as showing the +exuberance of imagination which other men at this time in +Italy allowed to waste itself in idle arabesque, restrained by +Botticelli to his most earnest purposes; and giving the withered +tree-trunks, hewn for the rude throne of the aged prophetess, +the same harmony with her fading spirit which the +rose has with youth, or the laurel with victory. Also in its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +weird characters, you have the best example I can show you +of the orders of decorative design which are especially expressible +by engraving, and which belong to a group of art instincts +scarcely now to be understood, much less recovered, +(the influence of modern naturalistic imitation being too +strong to be conquered)—the instincts, namely, for the arrangement +of pure line, in labyrinthine intricacy, through +which the grace of order may give continual clue. The entire +body of ornamental design, connected with writing, in the +Middle Ages seems as if it were a sensible symbol, to the eye +and brain, of the methods of error and recovery, the minglings +of crooked with straight, and perverse with progressive, which +constitute the great problem of human morals and fate; and +when I chose the title for the collected series of these lectures, +I hoped to have justified it by careful analysis of the methods +of labyrinthine ornament, which, made sacred by Theseian +traditions,<a name="FNanchor_BC_55" id="FNanchor_BC_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_BC_55" class="fnanchor">[BC]</a> and beginning, in imitation of physical truth, +with the spiral waves of the waters of Babylon as the Assyrian +carved them, entangled in their returns the eyes of men, +on Greek vase and Christian manuscript—till they closed in +the arabesques which sprang round the last luxury of Venice +and Rome.</p> + +<p>But the labyrinth of life itself, and its more and more interwoven +occupation, become too manifold, and too difficult +for me; and of the time wasted in the blind lanes of it, perhaps +that spent in analysis or recommendation of the art to +which men's present conduct makes them insensible, has been +chiefly cast away. On the walls of the little room where I +finally revise this lecture,<a name="FNanchor_BD_56" id="FNanchor_BD_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_BD_56" class="fnanchor">[BD]</a> hangs an old silken sampler of +great-grandame's work: representing the domestic life of +Abraham: chiefly the stories of Isaac and Ishmael. Sarah +at her tent-door, watching, with folded arms, the dismissal of +Hagar: above, in a wilderness full of fruit trees, birds, and +butterflies, little Ishmael lying at the root of a tree, and the +spent bottle under another; Hagar in prayer, and the angel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +appearing to her out of a wreathed line of gloomily undulating +clouds, which, with a dark-rayed sun in the midst, surmount +the entire composition in two arches, out of which descend +shafts of (I suppose) beneficent rain; leaving, however, +room, in the corner opposite to Ishmael's angel, for Isaac's, +who stays Abraham in the sacrifice; the ram in the thicket, +the squirrel in the plum tree above him, and the grapes, pears, +apples, roses, and daisies of the foreground, being all wrought +with involution of such ingenious needlework as may well +rank, in the patience, the natural skill, and the innocent +pleasure of it, with the truest works of Florentine engraving. +Nay; the actual tradition of many of the forms of ancient art +is in many places evident,—as, for instance, in the spiral +summits of the flames of the wood on the altar, which are like +a group of first-springing fern. On the wall opposite is a +smaller composition, representing Justice with her balance +and sword, standing between the sun and moon, with a background +of pinks, borage, and corn-cockle: a third is only a +cluster of tulips and iris, with two Byzantine peacocks; but +the spirits of Penelope and Ariadne reign vivid in all the +work—and the richness of pleasurable fancy is as great still, +in these silken labors, as in the marble arches and golden roof +of the cathedral of Monreale.</p> + +<p>But what is the use of explaining or analyzing it? Such +work as this means the patience and simplicity of all feminine +life; and can be produced, among <i>us</i> at least, no more. Gothic +tracery itself, another of the instinctive labyrinthine intricacies +of old, though analyzed to its last section, has become now +the symbol only of a foolish ecclesiastical sect, retained for +their shibboleth, joyless and powerless for all good. The +very labyrinth of the grass and flowers of our fields, though +dissected to its last leaf, is yet bitten bare, or trampled to +slime, by the Minotaur of our lust; and for the traceried spire +of the poplar by the brook, we possess but the four-square furnace +tower, to mingle its smoke with heaven's thunder-clouds.<a name="FNanchor_BE_57" id="FNanchor_BE_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_BE_57" class="fnanchor">[BE]</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>We will look yet at one sampler more of the engraved work, +done in the happy time when flowers were pure, youth simple, +and imagination gay,—Botticelli's Libyan Sibyl.</p> + +<p>Glance back first to the Hellespontic, noting the close fillet, +and the cloth bound below the face, and then you will be prepared +to understand the last I shall show you, and the loveliest +of the southern Pythonesses.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 405px;"> +<a id="Plate_X" name="Plate_X"></a> +<img src="images/image172.png" width="405" height="668" alt="X. Grass of the Desert." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">X.</p> +<p class="caption center">Grass of the Desert.</p> +</div> + +<p>222. A less deep thinker than Botticelli would have made +her parched with thirst, and burnt with heat. But the voice +of God, through nature, to the Arab or the Moor, is not in the +thirst, but in the fountain—not in the desert, but in the grass +of it. And this Libyan Sibyl is the spirit of wild grass and +flowers, springing in desolate places.</p> + +<p>You see, her diadem is a wreath of them; but the blossoms +of it are not fastening enough for her hair, though it is not +long yet—(she is only in reality a Florentine girl of fourteen +or fifteen)—so the little darling knots it under her ears, and +then makes herself a necklace of it. But though flowing hair +and flowers are wild and pretty, Botticelli had not, in these +only, got the power of Spring marked to his mind. Any girl +might wear flowers; but few, for ornament, would be likely +to wear grass. So the Sibyl shall have grass in her diadem; +not merely interwoven and bending, but springing and strong. +You thought it ugly and grotesque at first, did not you? It +was made so, because precisely what Botticelli wanted you to +look at.</p> + +<p>But that's not all. This conical cap of hers, with one bead +at the top,—considering how fond the Florentines are of +graceful head-dresses, this seems a strange one for a young +girl. But, exactly as I know the angel of Victory to be +Greek, at his Mount of Pity, so I know this head-dress to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +taken from a Greek coin, and to be meant for a Greek symbol. +It is the Petasus of Hermes—the mist of morning over +the dew. Lastly, what will the Libyan Sibyl say to you? +The letters are large on her tablet. Her message is the oracle +from the temple of the Dew: "The dew of thy birth is as the +womb of the morning."—"Ecce venientem diem, et latentia +aperientem, tenebit gremio gentium regina."</p> + +<p>223. Why the daybreak came not then, nor yet has come, +but only a deeper darkness; and why there is now neither +queen nor king of nations, but every man doing that which +is right in his own eyes, I would fain go on, partly to tell +you, and partly to meditate with you: but it is not our work +for to-day. The issue of the Reformation which these great +painters, the scholars of Dante, began, we may follow, farther, +in the study to which I propose to lead you, of the lives of +Cimabue and Giotto, and the relation of their work at Assisi +to the chapel and chambers of the Vatican.</p> + +<p>224. To-day let me finish what I have to tell you of the +style of southern engraving. What sudden bathos in the sentence, +you think! So contemptible the question of style, +then, in painting, though not in literature? You study the +'style' of Homer; the style, perhaps, of Isaiah; the style of +Horace, and of Massillon. Is it so vain to study the style of +Botticelli?</p> + +<p>In all cases, it is equally vain, if you think of their style +first. But know their purpose, and then, their way of speaking +is worth thinking of. These apparently unfinished and +certainly unfilled outlines of the Florentine,—clumsy work, +as Vasari thought them,—as Mr. Otley and most of our +English amateurs still think them,—are these good or bad +engraving?</p> + +<p>You may ask now, comprehending their motive, with some +hope of answering or being answered rightly. And the answer +is, They are the finest gravers' work ever done yet by +human hand. You may teach, by process of discipline and +of years, any youth of good artistic capacity to engrave a +plate in the modern manner; but only the noblest passion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +and the tenderest patience, will ever engrave one line like +these of Sandro Botticelli.</p> + +<p>225. Passion, and patience! Nay, even these you may +have to-day in England, and yet both be in vain. Only a +few years ago, in one of our northern iron-foundries, a workman +of intense power and natural art-faculty set himself to +learn engraving;—made his own tools; gave all the spare +hours of his laborious life to learn their use; learnt it; and +engraved a plate which, in manipulation, no professional engraver +would be ashamed of. He engraved his blast furnace, +and the casting of a beam of a steam engine. This, to him, +was the power of God,—it was his life. No greater earnestness +was ever given by man to promulgate a Gospel. Nevertheless, +the engraving is absolutely worthless. The blast furnace +<i>is not</i> the power of God; and the life of the strong spirit +was as much consumed in the flames of it, as ever driven +slave's by the burden and heat of the day.</p> + +<p>How cruel to say so, if he yet lives, you think! No, my +friends; the cruelty will be in you, and the guilt, if, having +been brought here to learn that God is your Light, you yet +leave the blast furnace to be the only light of England.</p> + +<p>226. It has been, as I said in the note above (<a href="#Sect_200">§ 200</a>), with +extreme pain that I have hitherto limited my notice of our +own great engraver and moralist, to the points in which the +disadvantages of English art-teaching made him inferior to +his trained Florentine rival. But, that these disadvantages +were powerless to arrest or ignobly depress him;—that however +failing in grace and scholarship, he should never fail in +truth or vitality; and that the precision of his unerring hand<a name="FNanchor_BF_58" id="FNanchor_BF_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_BF_58" class="fnanchor">[BF]</a>—his +inevitable eye—and his rightly judging heart—should +place him in the first rank of the great artists not of England +only, but of all the world and of all time:—that <i>this</i> was +possible to him, was simply because he lived a <i>country</i> life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +Bewick himself, Botticelli himself, Apelles himself, and +twenty times Apelles, condemned to slavery in the hell-fire of +the iron furnace, could have done—<span class="smcap">Nothing</span>. Absolute +paralysis of all high human faculty <i>must</i> result from labor +near fire. The poor engraver of the piston-rod had faculties—not +like Bewick's, for if he had had those, he never would +have endured the degradation; but assuredly, (I know this +by his work,) faculties high enough to have made him one of +the most accomplished figure painters of his age. And they +are scorched out of him, as the sap from the grass in the oven: +while on his Northumberland hill-sides, Bewick grew into as +stately life as their strongest pine.</p> + +<p>227. And therefore, in words of his, telling consummate +and unchanging truth concerning the life, honor, and happiness +of England, and bearing directly on the points of difference +between class and class which I have not dwelt on +without need, I will bring these lectures to a close.</p> + +<p>"I have always, through life, been of opinion that there is +no business of any kind that can be compared to that of a man +who farms his own land. It appears to me that every earthly +pleasure, with health, is within his reach. But numbers of +these men (the old statesmen) were grossly ignorant, and in +exact proportion to that ignorance they were sure to be offensively +proud. This led them to attempt appearing above +their station, which hastened them on to their ruin; but, indeed, +this disposition and this kind of conduct invariably +leads to such results. There were many of these lairds on +Tyneside; as well as many who held their lands on the tenure +of 'suit and service,' and were nearly on the same level as +the lairds. Some of the latter lost their lands (not fairly, I +think) in a way they could not help; many of the former, by +their misdirected pride and folly, were driven into towns, to +slide away into nothingness, and to sink into oblivion, while +their 'ha' houses' (halls), that ought to have remained in +their families from generation to generation, have moldered +away. I have always felt extremely grieved to see the ancient +mansions of many of the country gentlemen, from some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>what +similar causes, meet with a similar fate. The gentry +should, in an especial manner, prove by their conduct that +they are guarded against showing any symptom of foolish +pride; at the same time that they soar above every meanness, +and that their conduct is guided by truth, integrity, and +patriotism. If they wish the people to partake with them +in these good qualities, they must set them the example, without +which no real respect can ever be paid to them. Gentlemen +ought never to forget the respectable station they hold +in society, and that they are the natural guardians of public +morals and may with propriety be considered as the head and +the heart of the country, while 'a bold peasantry' are, in +truth, the arms, the sinews, and the strength of the same; but +when these last are degraded, they soon become dispirited and +mean, and often dishonest and useless."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"This singular and worthy man<a name="FNanchor_BG_59" id="FNanchor_BG_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_BG_59" class="fnanchor">[BG]</a> was perhaps the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +invaluable acquaintance and friend I ever met with. His +moral lectures and advice to me formed a most important +succedaneum to those imparted by my parents. His wise remarks, +his detestation of vice, his industry, and his temperance, +crowned with a most lively and cheerful disposition, altogether +made him appear to me as one of the best of characters. +In his workshop I often spent my winter evenings. +This was also the case with a number of young men who +might be considered as his pupils; many of whom, I have no +doubt, he directed into the paths of truth and integrity, and +who revered his memory through life. He rose early to work, +lay down when he felt weary, and rose again when refreshed. +His diet was of the simplest kind; and he ate when hungry, +and drank when dry, without paying regard to meal-times. +By steadily pursuing this mode of life he was enabled to accumulate +sums of money—from ten to thirty pounds. This +enabled him to get books, of an entertaining and moral tendency, +printed and circulated at a cheap rate. His great object +was, by every possible means, to promote honorable feelings +in the minds of youth, and to prepare them for becoming +good members of society. I have often discovered that he +did not overlook ingenious mechanics, whose misfortunes—perhaps +mismanagement—had led them to a lodging in Newgate. +To these he directed his compassionate eye, and for +the deserving (in his estimation), he paid their debt, and set +them at liberty. He felt hurt at seeing the hands of an ingenious +man tied up in prison, where they were of no use either +to himself or to the community. This worthy man had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +educated for a priest; but he would say to me, 'Of a "trouth," +Thomas, I did not like their ways.' So he gave up the +thoughts of being a priest, and bent his way from Aberdeen +to Edinburgh, where he engaged himself to Allan Ramsay, +the poet, then a bookseller at the latter place, in whose service +he was both shopman and bookbinder. From Edinburgh +he came to Newcastle. Gilbert had had a liberal education +bestowed upon him. He had read a great deal, and had reflected +upon what he had read. This, with his retentive +memory, enabled him to be a pleasant and communicative +companion. I lived in habits of intimacy with him to the +end of his life; and, when he died, I, with others of his +friends, attended his remains to the grave at the Ballast +Hills."</p> + +<p>And what graving on the sacred cliffs of Egypt ever honored +them, as that grass-dimmed furrow does the mounds of +our Northern land?</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AS_45" id="Footnote_AS_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AS_45"><span class="label">[AS]</span></a> The world was not then ready for Le Père Hyacinthe;—but the +real gist of the matter is that Lippi did, openly and bravely, what the +highest prelates in the Church did basely and in secret; also he loved, +where they only lusted; and he has been proclaimed therefore by them—and +too foolishly believed by us—to have been a shameful person. +Of his true life, and the colors given to it, we will try to learn something +tenable, before we end our work in Florence.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AT_46" id="Footnote_AT_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AT_46"><span class="label">[AT]</span></a> I insert supplementary notes, when of importance, in the text of +the lecture, for the convenience of the general reader.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AU_47" id="Footnote_AU_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AU_47"><span class="label">[AU]</span></a> Mr. Charles F. Murray.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AV_48" id="Footnote_AV_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AV_48"><span class="label">[AV]</span></a> Some notice of this picture is given at the beginning of my third +Morning in Florence, 'Before the Soldan.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AW_49" id="Footnote_AW_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AW_49"><span class="label">[AW]</span></a> I am bitterly sorry for the pain which my partial references to the +man whom of all English artists whose histories I have read, I most +esteem, have given to one remaining member of his family. I hope +my meaning may be better understood after she has seen the close of +this lecture.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AX_50" id="Footnote_AX_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AX_50"><span class="label">[AX]</span></a> Read Ezekiel xviii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AY_51" id="Footnote_AY_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AY_51"><span class="label">[AY]</span></a> See also the account by Dr. Woltmann of the picture of the Triumph +of Riches. 'Holbein and his Time,' p. 352.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_AZ_52" id="Footnote_AZ_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_AZ_52"><span class="label">[AZ]</span></a> These words are engraved in the plate, as spoken by the Virgin.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BA_53" id="Footnote_BA_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BA_53"><span class="label">[BA]</span></a> Cosimo Rosselli, especially chosen by the Pope for his gay coloring.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BB_54" id="Footnote_BB_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BB_54"><span class="label">[BB]</span></a> I am not certain of their order at this distance of time.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BC_55" id="Footnote_BC_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BC_55"><span class="label">[BC]</span></a> Callimachus, 'Delos,' 304, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BD_56" id="Footnote_BD_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BD_56"><span class="label">[BD]</span></a> In the Old King's Arms Hotel, Lancaster.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BE_57" id="Footnote_BE_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BE_57"><span class="label">[BE]</span></a> A manufacturer wrote to me the other day, "We don't <i>want</i> +to make smoke!" Who said they did?—a hired murderer does not want +to commit murder, but does it for sufficient motive. (Even our shipowners +don't want to drown their sailors; they will only do it for sufficient +motive.) If the dirty creatures <i>did</i> want to make smoke, there +would be more excuse for them: and that they are not clever enough +to consume it, is no praise to them. A man who can't help his hiccough +leaves the room: why do they not leave the England they pollute?</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BF_58" id="Footnote_BF_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BF_58"><span class="label">[BF]</span></a> I know no drawing so subtle as Bewick's, since the fifteenth century, +except Holbein's and Turner's. I have been greatly surprised +lately by the exquisite water-color work in some of Stothard's smaller +vignettes; but he cannot set the line like Turner or Bewick.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BG_59" id="Footnote_BG_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BG_59"><span class="label">[BG]</span></a> Gilbert Gray, bookbinder. I have to correct the inaccurate—and +very harmfully inaccurate, expression which I used of Bewick, in Love's +Meinie (§ 3), 'a printer's lad at Newcastle.' His first master was a goldsmith +and engraver, else he could never have been an artist. I am +very heartily glad to make this correction, which establishes another +link of relation between Bewick and Botticelli; but my error was +partly caused by the impression which the above description of his +"most invaluable friend" made on me, when I first read it. +</p><p> +Much else that I meant to correct, or promised to explain, in this +lecture, must be deferred to the Appendix; the superiority of the Tuscan +to the Greek Aphrodite I may perhaps, even at last, leave the +reader to admit or deny as he pleases, having more important matters +of debate on hand. But as I mean only to play with Proserpina during +the spring, I will here briefly anticipate a statement I mean in the +Appendix to enforce, namely, of the extreme value of colored copies +by hand, of paintings whose excellence greatly consists in color, as +auxiliary to engravings of them. The prices now given without hesitation +for nearly worthless original drawings by fifth-rate artists, would +obtain for the misguided buyers, in something like a proportion of ten +to one, most precious copies of drawings which can only be represented +at all in engraving by entire alteration of their treatment, and abandonment +of their finest purposes. I feel this so strongly that I have given +my best attention, during upwards of ten years, to train a copyist to +perfect fidelity in rendering the work of Turner; and having now succeeded +in enabling him to produce facsimiles so close as to look like +replicas, facsimiles which I must sign with my own name and his, in the +very work of them, to prevent their being sold for real Turner vignettes, +I can obtain no custom for him, and am obliged to leave him to make his +bread by any power of captivation his original sketches may possess in +the eyes of a public which maintains a nation of copyists in Rome, but +is content with black and white renderings of great English art; though +there is scarcely one cultivated English gentleman or lady who has not +been twenty times in the Vatican, for once that they have been in the +National Gallery.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="NOTES" id="NOTES"></a>NOTES.</h2> + + +<p>228. I. The following letter, from one of my most faithful +readers, corrects an important piece of misinterpretation +in the text. The waving of the reins must be only in sign of +the fluctuation of heat round the Sun's own chariot:—</p> + +<p style="text-align:right;margin-bottom:0em;">"Spring Field, Ambleside, </p> +<p style="text-align:right;margin-top:0em;">"February 11, 1875.</p> + +<p>"Dear Mr. Ruskin,—Your fifth lecture on Engraving I +have to hand.</p> + +<p>"Sandro intended those wavy lines meeting under the +Sun's right<a name="FNanchor_BH_60" id="FNanchor_BH_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_BH_60" class="fnanchor">[BH]</a> hand, (Plate V.) primarily, no doubt, to represent +the four ends of the four reins dangling from the +Sun's hand. The flames and rays are seen to continue to +radiate from the platform of the chariot between and beyond +these ends of the reins, and over the knee. He may have +wanted to acknowledge that the warmth of the earth was +Apollo's, by making these ends of the reins spread out separately +and wave, and thereby inclose a form like a flame. +But I cannot think it.</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40%;margin-bottom:0em;">"Believe me,</p> +<p style="margin-left: 40%;margin-bottom:0em;margin-top:0em;"> "Ever yours truly,</p> +<p style="margin-left: 40%;margin-top:0em;"> "<span class="smcap">Chas. Wm. Smith.</span>"</p> + +<p>II. I meant to keep labyrinthine matters for my Appendix; +but the following most useful by-words from Mr. Tyrwhitt +had better be read at once:—</p> + +<p>"In the matter of Cretan Labyrinth, as connected by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +Virgil with the Ludus Trojæ, or equestrian game of winding +and turning, continued in England from twelfth century; +and having for last relic the maze<a name="FNanchor_BI_61" id="FNanchor_BI_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_BI_61" class="fnanchor">[BI]</a> called 'Troy Town,' at +Troy Farm, near Somerton, Oxfordshire, which itself resembles +the circular labyrinth on a coin of Cnossus in Fors +Clavigera. (Letter 23, p. 12.)</p> + +<p>"The connecting quotation from Virg., Æn., V. 588, is as +follows:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Ut quondam Creta fertur Labyrinthus in alta<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parietibus textum cæcis iter, ancipitemque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mille viis habuisse dolum, qua signa sequendi<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falleret indeprensus et inremeabilis error.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haud alio Teucrün nati vestigia cursu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impediunt, texuntque fagas et prœlia ludo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delphinum similes.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Labyrinth of Ariadne, as cut on the Downs by shepherds +from time immemorial,—</p> + +<p>Shakespeare, 'Midsummer Night's Dream,' Act ii., sc. 2:</p> + +<p> +"<i>Oberon.</i> The nine-men's morris<a name="FNanchor_BJ_62" id="FNanchor_BJ_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_BJ_62" class="fnanchor">[BJ]</a> is filled up with mud;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">And the quaint mazes in the wanton green</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">By lack of tread are undistinguishable."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The following passage, 'Merchant of Venice,' Act iii., sc. +2, confuses (to all appearance) the Athenian tribute to Crete, +with the story of Hesione: and may point to general confusion +in the Elizabethan mind about the myths:</p> + +<p> +"<i>Portia.</i> ... with much more love<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Than young Alcides, when he did reduce</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">The virgin-tribute paid by howling Troy</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">To the sea monster."<a name="FNanchor_BK_63" id="FNanchor_BK_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_BK_63" class="fnanchor">[BK]</a></span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Theseus is the Attic Hercules, however; and Troy may +have been a sort of house of call for mythical monsters, in +the view of midland shepherds.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BH_60" id="Footnote_BH_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BH_60"><span class="label">[BH]</span></a> "Would not the design have looked better, to us, on the plate than +on the print? On the plate, the reins would be in the left hand; and +the whole movement be from the left to the right? The two different +forms that the radiance takes would symbolize respectively heat and +light, would they not?"</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BI_61" id="Footnote_BI_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BI_61"><span class="label">[BI]</span></a> Strutt, pp. 97-8, ed. 1801.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BJ_62" id="Footnote_BJ_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BJ_62"><span class="label">[BJ]</span></a> Explained as "a game still played by the shepherds, cowkeepers," +etc., in the midland counties.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BK_63" id="Footnote_BK_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BK_63"><span class="label">[BK]</span></a> See Iliad, 20, 145.</p></div> +</div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;"> +<a id="Plate_XI" name="Plate_XI"></a> +<img src="images/image184.png" width="402" height="657" alt="XI. Obediente Domino voci hominis." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">XI.</p> +<p class="caption center">"Obediente Domino voci hominis."</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="APPENDIX" id="APPENDIX"></a>APPENDIX.</h2> + +<h3><a id="NOTES_I" name="NOTES_I"></a>ARTICLE I.</h3> + +<h4>NOTES ON THE PRESENT STATE OF ENGRAVING IN ENGLAND.</h4> + +<p>229. I have long deferred the completion of this book, because +I had hoped to find time to show, in some fullness, the +grounds for my conviction that engraving, and the study of +it, since the development of the modern finished school, have +been ruinous to European knowledge of art. But I am more +and more busied in what I believe to be better work, and can +only with extreme brevity state here the conclusions of many +years' thought.</p> + +<p>These, in several important particulars, have been curiously +enforced on me by the carelessness shown by the picture +dealers about the copies from Turner which it has cost +Mr. Ward and me<a name="FNanchor_BL_64" id="FNanchor_BL_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_BL_64" class="fnanchor">[BL]</a> fifteen years of study together to enable +ourselves to make. "They are only copies," say they,—"nobody +will look at them."</p> + +<p>230. It never seems to occur even to the most intelligent +persons that an engraving also is 'only a copy,' and a copy +done with refusal of color, and with disadvantage of means in +rendering shade. But just because this utterly inferior copy +can be reduplicated, and introduces a different kind of skill, +in another material, people are content to lose all the composition, +and all the charm, of the original,—so far as these +depend on the chief gift of a <i>painter</i>,—color; while they are +gradually misled into attributing to the painter himself qualities +impertinently added by the engraver to make his plate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +popular: and, which is far worse, they are as gradually and +subtly prevented from looking, in the original, for the qualities +which engraving could never render. Further, it continually +happens that the very best color-compositions engrave +worst; for they often extend colors over great spaces at equal +pitch, and the green is as dark as the red, and the blue as the +brown; so that the engraver can only distinguish them by +lines in different directions, and his plate becomes a vague +and dead mass of neutral tint; but a bad and forced piece of +color, or a piece of work of the Bolognese school, which is +everywhere black in the shadows, and colorless in the lights, +will engrave with great ease, and appear spirited and forcible. +Hence engravers, as a rule, are interested in reproducing +the work of the worst schools of painting.</p> + +<p>Also, the idea that the merit of an engraving consisted in +light and shade, has prevented the modern masters from even +attempting to render works dependent mainly on outline and +expression; like the early frescoes, which should indeed have +been the objects of their most attentive and continual skill: +for outline and expression are entirely within the scope of engraving; +and the scripture histories of an aisle of a cloister +might have been engraved, to perfection, with little more +pains than are given by ordinary workmen to round a limb +by Correggio, or imitate the texture of a dress by Sir Joshua,—and +both, at last, inadequately.</p> + +<p>231. I will not lose more time in asserting or lamenting +the mischief arising out of the existing system: but will +rapidly state what the public should now ask for.</p> + +<p>1. Exquisitely careful engraved outlines of all remaining +frescoes of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries +in Italy, with so much pale tinting as may be explanatory of +their main masses; and with the local darks and local lights +brilliantly relieved. The Arundel Society have published +some meritorious plates of this kind from Angelico,—not, +however, paying respect enough to the local colors, but conventionalizing +the whole too much into outline.</p> + +<p>2. Finished small plates for book illustration. The cheap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +wood-cutting and etching of popular illustrated books have +been endlessly mischievous to public taste: they first obtained +their power in a general reaction of the public mind from the +insipidity of the lower school of line engraving, brought on it +by servile persistence in hack work for ignorant publishers. +The last dregs of it may still be seen in the sentimental landscapes +engraved for cheap ladies' pocket-books. But the +woodcut can never, educationally, take the place of serene +and accomplished line engraving; and the training of young +artists in whom the gift of delineation prevails over their +sense of color, to the production of scholarly, but small plates, +with their utmost honor of skill, would give a hitherto unconceived +dignity to the character and range of our popular +literature.</p> + +<p>3. Vigorous mezzotints from pictures of the great masters, +which originally present noble contrasts of light and +shade. Many Venetian works are magnificent in this character.</p> + +<p>4. Original design by painters themselves, decisively engraved +in few lines—(<i>not</i> etched); and with such insistence +by dotted work on the main contours as we have seen in the +examples given from Italian engraving.</p> + +<p>5. On the other hand, the men whose quiet patience and +exquisite manual dexterity are at present employed in producing +large and costly plates, such as that of the Belle Jardinière +de Florence, by M. Boucher Desnoyers, should be entirely +released from their servile toil, and employed exclusively +in producing colored copies, or light drawings, from +the original work. The same number of hours of labor, applied +with the like conscientious skill, would multiply precious +likenesses of the real picture, full of subtle veracities +which no steel line could approach, and conveying, to thousands, +true knowledge and unaffected enjoyment of painting; +while the finished plate lies uncared for in the portfolio of the +virtuoso, serving only, so far as it is seen in the printseller's +window by the people, to make them think that sacred painting +must always be dull, and unnatural.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>232. I have named the above engraving, because, for persons +wishing to study the present qualities and methods of +line-work, it is a pleasant and sufficient possession, uniting +every variety of texture with great serenity of unforced effect, +and exhibiting every possible artifice and achievement in the +distribution of even and rugged, or of close and open line; +artifices for which,—while I must yet once more and emphatically +repeat that they are illegitimate, and could not be +practiced in a revived school of classic art,—I would fain secure +the reader's reverent admiration, under the conditions exacted +by the school to which they belong. Let him endeavor, +with the finest point of pen or pencil he can obtain, to imitate +the profile of this Madonna in its relief against the gray background +of the water surface; let him examine, through a good +lens, the way in which the lines of the background are ended +in a lance-point as they approach it; the exact equality of +depth of shade being restored by inserted dots, which prepare +for the transition to the manner of shade adopted in the flesh: +then let him endeavor to trace with his own hand some of the +curved lines at the edge of the eyelid, or in the rounding of +the lip; or if these be too impossible, even a few of the quiet +undulations which gradate the folds of the hood behind the +hair; and he will, I trust, begin to comprehend the range of +delightful work which would be within the reach of such an +artist, employed with more tractable material on more +extended subject.</p> + +<p>233. If, indeed, the present system were capable of influencing +the mass of the people, and enforcing among them the +subtle attention necessary to appreciate it, something might +be pleaded in defense of its severity. But all these plates +are entirely above the means of the lower middle classes, and +perhaps not one reader in a hundred can possess himself, for +the study I ask of him, even of the plate to which I have just +referred. What, in the stead of such, he can and does possess, +let him consider,—and, if possible, just after examining the +noble qualities of this conscientious engraving.</p> + +<p>234. Take up, for an average specimen of modern illus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>trated +works, the volume of Dickens's 'Master Humphrey's +Clock,' containing 'Barnaby Rudge.'</p> + +<p>You have in that book an entirely profitless and monstrous +story, in which the principal characters are a coxcomb, an +idiot, a madman, a savage blackguard, a foolish tavern-keeper, +a mean old maid, and a conceited apprentice,—mixed +up with a certain quantity of ordinary operatic pastoral stuff, +about a pretty Dolly in ribbons, a lover with a wooden leg, +and an heroic locksmith. For these latter, the only elements +of good, or life, in the filthy mass of the story,<a name="FNanchor_BM_65" id="FNanchor_BM_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_BM_65" class="fnanchor">[BM]</a> observe that +the author must filch the wreck of those old times of which +we fiercely and frantically destroy every living vestige, whenever +it is possible. You cannot have your Dolly Varden +brought up behind the counter of a railway station; nor your +jolly locksmith trained at a Birmingham brass-foundry. +And of these materials, observe that you can only have the +ugly ones illustrated. The cheap popular art cannot draw +for you beauty, sense, or honesty; and for Dolly Varden, or +the locksmith, you will look through the vignettes in vain. +But every species of distorted folly and vice,—the idiot, the +blackguard, the coxcomb, the paltry fool, the degraded woman,—are +pictured for your honorable pleasure in every page, +with clumsy caricature, struggling to render its dullness tolerable +by insisting on defect,—if perchance a penny or two +more may be coined out of the Cockney reader's itch for +loathsomeness.</p> + +<p>235. Or take up, for instance of higher effort, the 'Cornhill +Magazine' for this month, July, 1876. It has a vignette +of Venice for an illuminated letter. That is what your decorative +art has become, by help of Kensington! The letter +to be produced is a T. There is a gondola in the front of the +design, with the canopy slipped back to the stern like a saddle +over a horse's tail. There is another in the middle distance, +all gone to seed at the prow, with its gondolier emaciated into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +an oar, at the stern; then there is a Church of the Salute, and +a Ducal Palace,—in which I beg you to observe all the felicity +and dexterity of modern cheap engraving; finally, over +the Ducal Palace there is something, I know not in the least +what meant for, like an umbrella dropping out of a balloon, +which is the ornamental letter T. Opposite this ornamental +design, there is an engraving of two young ladies and a parasol, +between two trunks of trees. The white face and black +feet of the principal young lady, being the points of the design, +are done with as much care,—not with as much dexterity,—as +an ordinary sketch of Du Maurier's in Punch. The +young lady's dress, the next attraction, is done in cheap white +and black cutting, with considerably less skill than that of +any ordinary tailor's or milliner's shop-book pattern drawing. +For the other young lady, and the landscape, take your magnifying +glass, and look at the hacked wood that forms the entire +shaded surface—one mass of idiotic scrabble, without the +remotest attempt to express a single leaf, flower, or clod of +earth. It is such landscape as the public sees out of its railroad +window at sixty miles of it in the hour—and good +enough for such a public.</p> + +<p>236. Then turn to the last—the poetical plate, p. 122: +"Lifts her—lays her down with care." Look at the gentleman +with a spade, promoting the advance, over a hillock of +hay, of the reposing figure in the black-sided tub. Take your +magnifying glass to <i>that</i>, and look what a dainty female arm +and hand your modern scientific and anatomical schools of +art have provided you with! Look at the tender horizontal +flux of the sea round the promontory point above. Look at +the tender engraving of the linear light on the divine horizon, +above the ravenous sea-gull. Here is Development and Progress +for you, from the days of Perugino's horizon, and +Dante's daybreaks! Truly, here it seems</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Si che le bianche e le vermiglie guance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Per troppa etate divenivan rance."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>237. I have chosen no gross or mean instances of modern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +work. It is one of the saddest points connected with the +matter that the designer of this last plate is a person of consummate +art faculty, but bound to the wheel of the modern +Juggernaut, and broken on it. These woodcuts, for 'Barnaby +Rudge' and the 'Cornhill Magazine,' are favorably representative +of the entire illustrative art industry of the modern +press,—industry enslaved to the ghastly service of catching +the last gleams in the glued eyes of the daily more bestial +English mob,—railroad born and bred, which drags itself +about the black world it has withered under its breath, in one +eternal grind and shriek,—gobbling,—staring,—chattering,—giggling,—trampling +out every vestige of national honor +and domestic peace, wherever it sets the staggering hoof of it; +incapable of reading, of hearing, of thinking, of looking,—capable +only of greed for money, lust for food, pride of dress, +and the prurient itch of momentary curiosity for the politics +last announced by the newsmonger, and the religion last +rolled by the chemist into electuary for the dead.</p> + +<p>238. In the miserably competitive labor of finding new +stimulus for the appetite—daily more gross—of this tyrannous +mob, we may count as lost, beyond any hope, the artists +who are dull, docile, or distressed enough to submit to its +demands; and we may count the dull and the distressed by +myriads;—and among the docile, many of the best intellects +we possess. The few who have sense and strength to assert +their own place and supremacy, are driven into discouraged +disease by their isolation, like Turner and Blake; the one +abandoning the design of his 'Liber Studiorum' after imperfectly +and sadly, against total public neglect, carrying it +forward to what it is,—monumental, nevertheless, in landscape +engraving; the other producing, with one only majestic +series of designs from the book of Job, nothing for his life's +work but coarsely iridescent sketches of enigmatic dream.</p> + +<p>239. And, for total result of our English engraving industry +during the last hundred and fifty years, I find that +practically at this moment I cannot get a <i>single</i> piece of true, +sweet, and comprehensible art, to place for instruction in any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +children's school! I can get, for ten pounds apiece, well-engraved +portraits of Sir Joshua's beauties showing graceful +limbs through flowery draperies; I can get—dirt-cheap—any +quantity of Dutch flats, ditches, and hedges, enlivened +by cows chewing the cud, and dogs behaving indecently; I +can get heaps upon heaps of temples, and forums, and altars, +arranged as for academical competition, round seaports, with +curled-up ships that only touch the water with the middle of +their bottoms. I can get, at the price of lumber, any quantity +of British squires flourishing whips and falling over hurdles; +and, in suburban shops, a dolorous variety of widowed mothers +nursing babies in a high light with the Bible on a table, and +baby's shoes on a chair. Also, of cheap prints, painted red +and blue, of Christ blessing little children, of Joseph and +his brethren, the infant Samuel, or Daniel in the lions' den, +the supply is ample enough to make every child in these +islands think of the Bible as a somewhat dull story-book, +allowed on Sunday;—but of trained, wise, and worthy art, +applied to gentle purposes of instruction, no single example +can be found in the shops of the British printseller or bookseller. +And after every dilettante tongue in European +society has filled drawing-room and academy alike with idle +clatter concerning the divinity of Raphael and Michael +Angelo, for these last hundred years, I cannot at this instant, +for the first school which I have some power of organizing +under St. George's laws, get a good print of Raphael's +Madonna of the tribune, or an ordinarily intelligible view of +the side and dome of St. Peter's!</p> + +<p>240. And there are simply no words for the mixed absurdity +and wickedness of the present popular demand for art, +as shown by its supply in our thoroughfares. Abroad, in +the shops of the Rue de Rivoli, brightest and most central +of Parisian streets, the putrescent remnant of what was once +Catholicism promotes its poor gilded pedlars' ware of nativity +and crucifixion into such honorable corners as it can find +among the more costly and studious illuminations of the +brothel: and although, in Pall Mall, and the Strand, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +large-margined Landseer,—Stanfield,—or Turner-proofs, in +a few stately windows, still represent, uncared-for by the +people, or inaccessible to them, the power of an English +school now wholly perished,—these are too surely superseded, +in the windows that stop the crowd, by the thrilling attraction +with which Doré, Gérome, and Tadema have invested the +gambling table, the dueling ground, and the arena; or by the +more material and almost tangible truth with which the apothecary-artist +stereographs the stripped actress, and the railway +mound.</p> + +<p>241. Under these conditions, as I have now repeatedly +asserted, no professorship, nor school, of art can be of the +least use to the general public. No race can understand a +visionary landscape, which blasts its real mountains into +ruin, and blackens its river-beds with foam of poison. Nor +is it of the least use to exhibit ideal Diana at Kensington, +while substantial Phryne may be worshiped in the Strand. +The only recovery of our art-power possible,—nay, when +once we know the full meaning of it, the only one desirable,—must +result from the purification of the nation's heart, +and chastisement of its life: utterly hopeless now, for our +adult population, or in our large cities, and their neighborhood. +But, so far as any of the sacred influence of former +design can be brought to bear on the minds of the young, +and so far as, in rural districts, the first elements of scholarly +education can be made pure, the foundation of a new dynasty +of thought may be slowly laid. I was strangely impressed +by the effect produced in a provincial seaport school for +children, chiefly of fishermen's families, by the gift of a +little colored drawing of a single figure from the Paradise +of Angelico in the Accademia of Florence. The drawing +was wretched enough, seen beside the original; I had only +bought it from the poor Italian copyist for charity: but, to +the children, it was like an actual glimpse of heaven; they +rejoiced in it with pure joy, and their mistress thanked me +for it more than if I had sent her a whole library of good +books. Of such copies, the grace-giving industry of young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +girls, now worse than lost in the spurious charities of the +bazaar, or selfish ornamentations of the drawing-room, might, +in a year's time, provide enough for every dame-school in +England; and a year's honest work of the engravers employed +on our base novels, might represent to our advanced +students every frescoed legend of philosophy and morality +extant in Christendom.</p> + +<p>242. For my own part, I have no purpose, in what remains +to me of opportunity, either at Oxford or elsewhere, to +address any farther course of instruction towards the development +of existing schools. After seeing the stream of the +Teviot as black as ink, and a putrid carcass of a sheep lying +in the dry channel of the Jed, under Jedburgh Abbey, (the +entire strength of the summer stream being taken away to +supply a single mill,) I know, finally, what value the British +mind sets on the 'beauties of nature,' and shall attempt no +farther the excitement of its enthusiasm in that direction. +I shall indeed endeavor to carry out, with Mr. Ward's help, +my twenty years' held purpose of making the real character +of Turner's work known, to the persons who, formerly interested +by the engravings from him, imagined half the merit +was of the engraver's giving. But I know perfectly that +to the general people, trained in the midst of the ugliest +objects that vice can design, in houses, mills, and machinery, +<i>all</i> beautiful form and color is as invisible as the seventh +heaven. It is not a question of appreciation at all; the thing +is physically invisible to them, as human speech is inaudible +during a steam whistle.</p> + +<p>243. And I shall also use all the strength I have to convince +those, among our artists of the second order, who are +wise and modest enough not to think themselves the matches +of Turner or Michael Angelo, that in the present state of +art they only waste their powers in endeavoring to produce +original pictures of human form or passion. Modern aristocratic +life is too vulgar, and modern peasant life too +unhappy, to furnish subjects of noble study; while, even +were it otherwise, the multiplication of designs by painters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +of second-rate power is no more desirable than the writing +of music by inferior composers. They may, with far greater +personal happiness, and incalculably greater advantage to +others, devote themselves to the affectionate and sensitive +copying of the works of men of just renown. The dignity +of this self-sacrifice would soon be acknowledged with sincere +respect; for copies produced by men working with such motive +would differ no less from the common trade-article of the +galleries than the rendering of music by an enthusiastic and +highly trained executant differs from the grinding of a street +organ. And the change in the tone of public feeling, produced +by familiarity with such work, would soon be no less +great than in their musical enjoyment, if having been accustomed +only to hear black Christys, blind fiddlers, and hoarse +beggars scrape or howl about their streets, they were permitted +daily audience of faithful and gentle orchestral rendering of +the work of the highest classical masters.</p> + +<p>244. I have not, until very lately, rightly appreciated the +results of the labor of the Arundel Society in this direction. +Although, from the beginning, I have been honored in being +a member of its council, my action has been hitherto rather +of check than help, because I thought more of the differences +between our copies and the great originals, than of their +unquestionable superiority to anything the public could +otherwise obtain.</p> + +<p>I was practically convinced of their extreme value only +this last winter, by staying at the house of a friend in which +the Arundel engravings were the principal decoration; and +where I learned more of Masaccio from the Arundel copy +of the contest with Simon Magus, than in the Brancacci +chapel itself; for the daily companionship with the engraving +taught me subtleties in its composition which had escaped +me in the multitudinous interest of visits to the actual fresco.</p> + +<p>But the work of the Society has been sorely hindered +hitherto, because it has had at command only the skill of +copyists trained in foreign schools of color, and accustomed +to meet no more accurate requisitions than those of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +fashionable traveler. I have always hoped for, and trust at +last to obtain, co-operation with our too mildly laborious +copyists, of English artists possessing more brilliant color +faculty; and the permission of our subscribers to secure for +them the great ruins of the noble past, undesecrated by the +trim, but treacherous, plastering of modern emendation.</p> + +<p>245. Finally, I hope to direct some of the antiquarian +energy often to be found remaining, even when love of the +picturesque has passed away, to encourage the accurate delineation +and engraving of historical monuments, as a direct +function of our schools of art. All that I have generally to +suggest on this matter has been already stated with sufficient +clearness in the first of my inaugural lectures at Oxford: +and my forthcoming 'Elements of Drawing'<a name="FNanchor_BN_66" id="FNanchor_BN_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_BN_66" class="fnanchor">[BN]</a> will contain +all the directions I can give in writing as to methods of work +for such purpose. The publication of these has been hindered, +for at least a year, by the abuses introduced by the modern +cheap modes of printing engravings. I find the men won't +use any ink but what pleases them; nor print but with what +pressure pleases them; and if I can get the foreman to attend +to the business, and choose the ink right, the men change it +the moment he leaves the room, and threaten to throw up the +job when they are detected. All this, I have long known +well, is a matter of course, in the outcome of modern principles +of trade; but it has rendered it hitherto impossible +for me to produce illustrations, which have been ready, as far +as my work or that of my own assistants is concerned, for a +year and a half. Any one interested in hearing of our +progress—or arrest, may write to my Turner copyist, Mr. +Ward:<a name="FNanchor_BO_67" id="FNanchor_BO_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_BO_67" class="fnanchor">[BO]</a> and, in the meantime, they can help my designs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +for art education best by making these Turner copies more +generally known; and by determining, when they travel, to +spend what sums they have at their disposal, not in fady +photography, but in the encouragement of any good <i>water-color</i> +and <i>pencil</i> draughtsmen whom they find employed in +the <i>galleries</i> of Europe.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h3 class="gap3"><a id="NOTES_II" name="NOTES_II"></a>ARTICLE II.</h3> + +<h4>DETACHED NOTES.</h4> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>On the series of Sibyl engravings attributed to Botticelli.</i></p> + +<p>246. Since I wrote the earlier lectures in this volume, +I have been made more doubtful on several points which were +embarrassing enough before, by seeing some better (so-called) +impressions of my favorite plates containing light and shade +which did not improve them.</p> + +<p>I do not choose to waste time or space in discussion, till +I know more of the matter; and that more I must leave to +my good friend Mr. Reid of the British Museum to find out +for me; for I have no time to take up the subject myself, but +I give, for frontispiece to this Appendix, the engraving of +Joshua referred to in the text, which however beautiful in +thought, is an example of the inferior execution and more +elaborate shade which puzzle me. But whatever is said in +the previous pages of the plates chosen for example, by whomsoever +done, is absolutely trustworthy. Thoroughly fine they +are, in their existing state, and exemplary to all persons and +times. And of the rest, in fitting place I hope to give complete—or +at least satisfactory account.</p> + +<h4 class="gap3">II.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>On the three excellent engravers representative of the first, middle, +and late schools.</i></p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 441px;"> +<a id="Plate_XII" name="Plate_XII"></a> +<img src="images/image199.png" width="441" height="644" alt="XII. The Coronation in the Garden." title="" /> +<p class="caption center">XII.</p> +<p class="caption center">The Coronation in the Garden.</p> +</div> + +<p>247. I have given opposite a photograph, slightly reduced +from the Dürer Madonna, alluded to often in the text, as +an example of his best conception of womanhood. It is very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +curious that Dürer, the least able of all great artists to represent +womanhood, should of late have been a very principal +object of feminine admiration. The last thing a woman +should do is to write about art. They never see anything in +pictures but what they are told, (or resolve to see out of +contradiction,)—or the particular things that fall in with +their own feelings. I saw a curious piece of enthusiastic +writing by an Edinburgh lady, the other day, on the photographs +I had taken from the tower of Giotto. She did not +care a straw what Giotto had meant by them, declared she +felt it her duty only to announce what they were to <i>her</i>; and +wrote two pages on the bas-relief of Heracles and Antæus—assuming +it to be the death of Abel.</p> + +<p>248. It is not, however, by women only that Dürer has +been over-praised. He stands so alone in his own field, that +the people who care much for him generally lose the power +of enjoying anything else rightly; and are continually attributing +to the force of his imagination quaintnesses which are +merely part of the general mannerism of his day.</p> + +<p>The following notes upon him, in relation to two other +excellent engravers, were written shortly for extempore expansion +in lecturing. I give them, with the others in this +terminal article, mainly for use to myself in future reference; +but also as more or less suggestive to the reader, if he has +taken up the subject seriously, and worth, therefore, a few +pages of this closing sheet.</p> + +<p>249. The men I have named as representative of all the +good ones composing their school, are alike resolved their +engraving shall be lovely.</p> + +<p>But Botticelli, the ancient, wants, with as little engraving, +as much Sibyl as possible.</p> + +<p>Dürer, the central, wants, with as much engraving as +possible, anything of Sibyl that may chance to be picked up +with it.</p> + +<p>Beaugrand, the modern, wants, as much Sibyl as possible, +and as much engraving too.</p> + +<p>250. I repeat—for I want to get this clear to you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>—Botticelli +wants, with as little engraving, as much Sibyl as +possible. For his head is full of Sibyls, and his heart. He +can't draw them fast enough: one comes, and another and +another; and all, gracious and wonderful and good, to be +engraved forever, if only he had a thousand hands and lives. +He scratches down one, with no haste, with no fault, divinely +careful, scrupulous, patient, but with as few lines as possible. +'Another Sibyl—let me draw another, for heaven's sake, +before she has burnt all her books, and vanished.'</p> + +<p>Dürer is exactly Botticelli's opposite. He is a workman, +to the heart, and will do his work magnificently. 'No +matter what I do it on, so that my craft be honorably shown. +Anything will do; a Sibyl, a skull, a Madonna and Christ, +a hat and feather, an Adam, an Eve, a cock, a sparrow, a +lion with two tails, a pig with five legs,—anything will do +for me. But see if I don't show you what engraving is, be +my subject what it may!'</p> + +<p>251. Thirdly: Beaugrand, I said, wants as much Sibyl as +possible, and as much engraving. He is essentially a copyist, +and has no ideas of his own, but deep reverence and love for +the work of others. He will give his life to represent another +man's thought. He will do his best with every spot and line,—exhibit +to you, if you will only look, the most exquisite +completion of obedient skill; but will be content, if you will +not look, to pass his neglected years in fruitful peace, and +count every day well spent that has given softness to a shadow, +or light to a smile.</p> + +<h4 class="gap3">III.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>On Dürer's landscape, with reference to the sentence on <a href="#Page_101">p. 101</a></i>: "I hope +you are pleased."</p> + +<p>252. I spoke just now only of the ill-shaped body of this +figure of Fortune, or Pleasure. Beneath her feet is an elaborate +landscape. It is all drawn out of Dürer's head;—he +would look at bones or tendons carefully, or at the leaf details<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +of foreground;—but at the breadth and loveliness of real +landscape, never.</p> + +<p>He has tried to give you a bird's-eye view of Germany; +rocks, and woods, and clouds, and brooks, and the pebbles in +their beds, and mills, and cottages, and fences, and what not; +but it is all a feverish dream, ghastly and strange, a monotone +of diseased imagination.</p> + +<p>And here is a little bit of the world he would not look at—of +the great river of his land, with a single cluster of its +reeds, and two boats, and an island with a village, and the +way for the eternal waters opened between the rounded hills.<a name="FNanchor_BP_68" id="FNanchor_BP_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_BP_68" class="fnanchor">[BP]</a></p> + +<p>It is just what you may see any day, anywhere,—innocent, +seemingly artless; but the artlessness of Turner is like +the face of Gainsborough's village girl, and a joy forever.</p> + +<h4 class="gap3">IV.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>On the study of anatomy.</i></p> + +<p>253. The virtual beginner of artistic anatomy in Italy was +a man called 'The Poulterer'—from his grandfather's trade; +'Pollajuolo,' a man of immense power, but on whom the +curse of the Italian mind in this age<a name="FNanchor_BQ_69" id="FNanchor_BQ_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_BQ_69" class="fnanchor">[BQ]</a> was set at its deepest.</p> + +<p>Any form of passionate excess has terrific effects on body +and soul, in nations as in men; and when this excess is in +rage, and rage against your brother, and rage accomplished +in habitual deeds of blood,—do you think Nature will forget +to set the seal of her indignation upon the forehead? I told +you that the great division of spirit between the northern +and southern races had been reconciled in the Val d'Arno. +The Font of Florence, and the Font of Pisa, were as the very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +springs of the life of the Christianity which had gone forth +to teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Prince +of Peace. Yet these two brother cities were to each other—I +do not say as Abel and Cain, but as Eteocles and Polynices, +and the words of Æschylus are now fulfilled in them to the +uttermost. The Arno baptizes their dead bodies:—their +native valley between its mountains is to them as the furrow +of a grave;—"and so much of their land they have, as is +sepulcher." Nay, not of Florence and Pisa only was this +true: Venice and Genoa died in death-grapple; and eight +cities of Lombardy divided between them the joy of leveling +Milan to her lowest stone. Nay, not merely in city against +city, but in street against street, and house against house, the +fury of the Theban dragon flamed ceaselessly, and with the +same excuse upon men's lips. The sign of the shield of Polynices, +Justice bringing back the exile, was to them all, in +turn, the portent of death: and their history, in the sum of +it and substance, is as of the servants of Joab and Abner by +the pool of Gibeon. "They caught every one his fellow +by the head, and thrust his sword in his fellow's side; so they +fell down together: wherefore that place was called 'the +field of the strong men.'"</p> + +<p>254. Now it is not possible for Christian men to live thus, +except under a fever of insanity. I have before, in my lectures +on Prudence and Insolence in art, deliberately asserted +to you the logical accuracy of the term 'demoniacal possession'<a name="FNanchor_BR_70" id="FNanchor_BR_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_BR_70" class="fnanchor">[BR]</a>—the +being in the power or possession of a betraying +spirit; and the definite sign of such insanity is delight +in witnessing pain, usually accompanied by an instinct +that gloats over or plays with physical uncleanness or disease, +and always by a morbid egotism. It is not to be recognized +for demoniacal power so much by its <i>viciousness</i>, as +its <i>paltriness</i>,—the taking pleasure in minute, contemptible, +and loathsome things.<a name="FNanchor_BS_71" id="FNanchor_BS_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_BS_71" class="fnanchor">[BS]</a> Now, in the middle of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +gallery of the Brera at Milan, there is an elaborate study +of a dead Christ, entirely characteristic of early fifteenth +century Italian madman's work. It is called—and was presented +to the people as—a Christ; but it <i>is</i> only an anatomical +study of a vulgar and ghastly dead body, with the soles of +the feet set straight at the spectator, and the rest foreshortened. +It is either Castagno's or Mantegna's,—in my mind, +set down to Castagno; but I have not looked at the picture +for years, and am not sure at this moment. It does not +matter a straw which: it is exactly characteristic of the madness +in which all of them—Pollajuolo, Castagno, Mantegna, +Lionardo da Vinci, and Michael Angelo, polluted their work +with the science of the sepulcher,<a name="FNanchor_BT_72" id="FNanchor_BT_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_BT_72" class="fnanchor">[BT]</a> and degraded it with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +presumptuous and paltry technical skill. Foreshorten your +Christ, and paint Him, if you can, half putrefied,—that is +the scientific art of the Renaissance.</p> + +<p>255. It is impossible, however, in so vast a subject to distinguish +always the beginner of things from the establisher.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +To the poulterer's son, Pollajuolo, remains the eternal shame +of first making insane contest the only subject of art; but +the two <i>establishers</i> of anatomy were Lionardo and Michael +Angelo. You hear of Lionardo chiefly because of his Last +Supper, but Italy did not hear of him for that. This was not +what brought <i>her</i> to worship Lionardo—but the Battle of +the Standard.</p> + +<h4 class="gap3">V.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Fragments on Holbein and others.</i></p> + +<p>256. Of Holbein's St. Elizabeth, remember, she is not a +perfect Saint Elizabeth, by any means. She is an honest +and sweet German lady,—the best he could see; he could do +no better;—and so I come back to my old story,—no man can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +do better than he sees: if he can reach the nature round him, +it is well; he may fall short of it; he cannot rise above it; +"the best, in this kind, are but shadows."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Yet that intense veracity of Holbein is indeed the strength +and glory of all the northern schools. They exist only in +being true. Their work among men is the definition of what +is, and the abiding by it. They cannot dream of what is +not. They make fools of themselves if they try. Think how +feeble even Shakspere is when he tries his hand at a Goddess;—women, +beautiful and womanly, as many as you choose; +but who cares what his Minerva or Juno says, in the masque +of the Tempest? And for the painters—when Sir Joshua +tries for a Madonna, or Vandyke for a Diana—they can't +even <i>paint</i>! they become total simpletons. Look at Rubens' +mythologies in the Louvre, or at modern French heroics, or +German pietisms! Why, all—Cornelius, Hesse, Overbeck, +and David—put together, are not worth one De Hooghe of +an old woman with a broom sweeping a back-kitchen. The +one thing we northerns can do is to find out what is fact, +and insist on it: mean fact it may be, or noble—but fact +always, or we die.</p> + +<p>257. Yet the intensest form of northern realization can be +matched in the south, when the southerns choose. There are +two pieces of animal drawing in the Sistine Chapel unrivaled +for literal veracity. The sheep at the well in front of +Zipporah; and afterwards, when she is going away, leading +her children, her eldest boy, like every one else, has taken his +chief treasure with him, and this treasure is his pet dog. It +is a little sharp-nosed white fox-terrier, full of fire and life; +but not strong enough for a long walk. So little Gershom, +whose name was "the stranger" because his father had been +a stranger in a strange land,—little Gershom carries his +white terrier under his arm, lying on the top of a large +bundle to make it comfortable. The doggie puts its sharp +nose and bright eyes out, above his hand, with a little roguish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +gleam sideways in them, which means,—if I can read rightly +a dog's expression,—that he has been barking at Moses all +the morning and has nearly put him out of temper:—and +without any doubt, I can assert to you that there is not any +other such piece of animal painting in the world,—so brief, +intense, vivid, and absolutely balanced in truth: as tenderly +drawn as if it had been a saint, yet as humorously as Landseer's +Lord Chancellor poodle.</p> + +<p>258. Oppose to—</p> + +<table summary="Comparison of Botticelli and Holbein" style="margin-left:0%;"> +<tr> +<td>Holbein's Veracity—</td> +<td>Botticelli's Fantasy.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left:2em;">" Shade</td> +<td style="padding-left:2em;">" Color.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left:2em;">" Despair</td> +<td style="padding-left:2em;">" Faith.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td style="padding-left:2em;">" Grossness</td> +<td style="padding-left:2em;">" Purity.</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<p>True Fantasy. Botticelli's Tree in Hellespontic Sibyl. +Not a real tree at all—yet founded on intensest perception +of beautiful reality. So the swan of Clio, as opposed to +Dürer's cock, or to Turner's swan.</p> + +<p>The Italian power of abstraction into one mythologic +personage—Holbein's death is only literal. He has to split +his death into thirty different deaths; and each is but a +skeleton. But Orcagna's death is one—the power of death +itself. There may thus be as much <i>breadth in thought</i>, as in +execution.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>259. What then, we have to ask, is a man <i>conscious of</i> in +what he sees?</p> + +<p>For instance, in all Cruikshank's etchings—however slight +the outline—there is an intense consciousness of light and +shade, and of local color, <i>as a part</i> of light and shade; but +none of color itself. He was wholly incapable of coloring; +and perhaps this very deficiency enabled him to give graphic +harmony to engraving.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Bewick—snow-pieces, etc. <i>Gray</i> predominant; <i>perfect +sense of color</i>, coming out in patterns of birds;—yet so uncul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>tivated, +that he engraves the brown birds better than pheasant +or peacock!</p> + +<p>For quite perfect consciousness of color makes engraving +impossible, and you have instead—Correggio.</p> + +<h4 class="gap3">VI.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Final notes on light and shade.</i></p> + +<p>260. You will find in the 138th and 147th paragraphs of +my Inaugural lectures, statements which, if you were reading +the book by yourselves, would strike you probably as each of +them difficult, and in some degree inconsistent,—namely, +that the school of color has exquisite character and sentiment; +but is childish, cheerful, and fantastic; while the school of +shade is deficient in character and sentiment; but supreme in +intellect and veracity. "The way by light and shade," I +say, "is taken by men of the highest powers of thought and +most earnest desire for truth."</p> + +<p>The school of shade, I say, is deficient in character and +sentiment. Compare any of Dürer's Madonnas with any of +Angelico's.</p> + +<p>Yet you may discern in the Apocalypse engravings that +Dürer's mind was seeking for truths, and dealing with questions, +which no more could have occurred to Angelico's mind +than to that of a two-years-old baby.</p> + +<p>261. The two schools unite in various degrees; but are +always distinguishably generic, the two headmost masters +representing each being Tintoret and Perugino. The one, +deficient in sentiment, and continually offending us by the +want of it, but full of intellectual power and suggestion.</p> + +<p>The other, repeating ideas with so little reflection that he +gets blamed for doing the same thing over again, (Vasari); +but exquisite in sentiment and the conditions of taste which +it forms, so as to become the master of it to Raphael and to +all succeeding him; and remaining such a type of sentiment, +too delicate to be felt by the latter practical mind of Dutch-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>bred +England, that Goldsmith makes the admiration of him +the test of absurd connoisseurship. But yet, with under-current +of intellect, which gets him accused of free-thinking, +and therefore with under-current of entirely exquisite +chiaroscuro.</p> + +<p>Light and shade, then, imply the understanding of things—Color, +the imagination and the sentiment of them.</p> + +<p>262. In Turner's distinctive work, color is scarcely acknowledged +unless under influence of sunshine. The sunshine +is his treasure; his lividest gloom contains it; his +grayest twilight regrets it, and remembers. Blue is always +a blue shadow; brown or gold, always light;—nothing is +cheerful but sunshine; wherever the sun is not, there is +melancholy or evil. Apollo is God; and all forms of death +and sorrow exist in opposition to him.</p> + +<p>But in Perugino's distinctive work,—and therefore I +have given him the captain's place over all,—there is simply +<i>no</i> darkness, <i>no</i> wrong. Every color is lovely, and every +space is light. The world, the universe, is divine: all sadness +is a part of harmony; and all gloom, a part of peace.</p> + +<p class="center gap3">THE END.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BL_64" id="Footnote_BL_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BL_64"><span class="label">[BL]</span></a> See note to the close of this article, <a href="#Page_156">p. 156.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BM_65" id="Footnote_BM_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BM_65"><span class="label">[BM]</span></a> The raven, however, like all Dickens's animals, is perfect: and I +am the more angry with the rest because I have every now and then to +open the book to look for him.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BN_66" id="Footnote_BN_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BN_66"><span class="label">[BN]</span></a> "Laws of Fésole."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BO_67" id="Footnote_BO_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BO_67"><span class="label">[BO]</span></a> 2, Church Terrace, Richmond, Surrey. <span class="smcap">Note</span>.—I have hitherto +permitted Mr. Ward to copy any Turner drawing he was asked to do; +but, finding there is a run upon the vignettes of Loch Lomond and +Derwent, I have forbidden him to do more of them for the present, lest +his work should get the least mechanical. The admirable drawings +of Venice, by my good assistant, Mr. Bunney, resident there, will +become of more value to their purchasers every year, as the buildings +from which they are made are destroyed. I was but just in time, working +with him at Verona, to catch record of Fra Giocondo's work in the +smaller square; the most beautiful Renaissance design in North Italy.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BP_68" id="Footnote_BP_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BP_68"><span class="label">[BP]</span></a> The engraving of Turner's "Scene on the Rhine" (near Bingen?) +with boats on the right, and reedy foreground on the left; the opening +between its mountain banks in central distance. It is exquisitely +engraved, the plate being of the size of the drawing, about ten inches +by six, and finished with extreme care and feeling.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BQ_69" id="Footnote_BQ_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BQ_69"><span class="label">[BQ]</span></a> See the horrible picture of St. Sebastian by him in our own National +Gallery.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BR_70" id="Footnote_BR_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BR_70"><span class="label">[BR]</span></a> See "The Eagle's Nest," § 79.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BS_71" id="Footnote_BS_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BS_71"><span class="label">[BS]</span></a> As in the muscles of the legs and effort in stretching bows, of +the executioners, in the picture just referred to.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_BT_72" id="Footnote_BT_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_BT_72"><span class="label">[BT]</span></a> Observe, I entirely distinguish the study of <i>anatomy</i>—i.e., of intense +bone and muscle—from study of the nude, as the Greeks practiced +it. This for an entirely great painter is absolutely necessary; but yet +I believe, in the case of Botticelli, it was nobly restricted. The following +note by Mr. Tyrwhitt contains, I think, the probable truth:— +</p><p> +"The facts relating to Sandro Botticelli's models, or rather to his +favorite model (as it appears to me), are but few; and it is greatly to +be regretted that his pictures are seldom dated;—if it were certain in +what order they appeared, what follows here might approach moral +certainty. +</p><p> +"There is no doubt that he had great personal regard for Fra Filippo, +up to that painter's death in 1469, Sandro being then twenty-two years +old. He may probably have got only good from him; anyhow he +would get a strong turn for Realism,—i.e. the treatment of sacred and +all other subjects in a realistic manner. He is described in Crowe and +Cavalcaselle from Filippino Lippi's Martyrdom of St. Peter, as a sullen +and sensual man, with beetle brows, large fleshy mouth, etc., etc. +Probably he was a strong man, and intense in physical and intellectual +habit. +</p><p> +"This man, then, begins to paint in his strength, with conviction—rather +happy and innocent than not—that it is right to paint any beautiful +thing, and best to paint the most beautiful,—say in 1470, at twenty-three +years of age. The allegorical Spring and the Graces, and the +Aphrodite now in the Ufficii, were painted for Cosmo, and seem to be +taken by Vasari and others as early, or early-central, works in his life: +also the portrait of Simonetta Vespucei<a name="FNanchor_1_73" id="FNanchor_1_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_73" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>. He is known to have painted +much in early life for the Vespucei and the Medici;—and this daughter +of the former house seems to have been inamorata or mistress of Giuliano +de' Medici, murdered by the Pazzi in 1478. Now it seems agreed +by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, Pater, etc., (and I am quite sure of it myself +as to the pictures mentioned)—first, that the same slender and +long-throated model appears in Spring, the Aphrodite, Calumny, and +other works.<a name="FNanchor_2_74" id="FNanchor_2_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_74" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Secondly, that she was Simonetta, the original of the +Pitti portrait. +</p><p> +"Now I think she must have been induced to let Sandro draw from +her whole person undraped, more or less; and that he must have done +so as such a man probably would, in strict honor as to deed, word, and +<i>definite</i> thought, but under occasional accesses of passion of which he +said nothing, and which in all probability and by grace of God refined +down to nil, or nearly so, as he got accustomed to look in honor at so +beautiful a thing. (He may have left off the undraped after her death.) +First, her figure is absolutely fine Gothic; I don't think any antique is so +slender. Secondly, she has the sad, passionate, and exquisite Lombard +mouth. Thirdly, her limbs shrink together, and she seems not quite +to have 'liked it' or been an accustomed model. Fourthly, there is +tradition, giving her name to all those forms. +</p><p> +"Her lover Giuliano was murdered in 1478, and Savonarola hanged +and burnt in 1498. Now, can her distress, and Savonarola's preaching, +between them, have taken, in few years, all the carnality out of Sandro, +supposing him to have come already, by seventy-eight, to that +state in which the sight of her delighted him, without provoking +ulterior feelings? All decent men accustomed to draw from the nude +tell us they get to that. +</p><p> +"Sandro's Dante is dated as published in 1482. He may have been +saddening by that time, and weary of beauty, pure or mixed;—though +he went on painting Madonnas, I fancy. (Can Simonetta be traced in +any of them? I think not. The Sistine paintings extend from 1481 +to 1484, however. I cannot help thinking Zipporah is impressed with +her.) After Savonarola's death, Sandro must have lost heart, and gone +into Dante altogether. Most ways in literature and art lead to Dante; +and this question about the nude and the purity of Botticelli is no +exception to the rule. +</p><p> +"Now in the Purgatorio, Lust is the last sin of which we are to be +made pure, and it has to be burnt out of us; being itself as searching +as fire, as smoldering, devouring, and all that. Corruptio: optimi +pessima; and it is the most searching and lasting of evils, because it +really is a corruption attendant on true Love, which is eternal—whatever +the word means. That this is so, seems to me to demonstrate +the truth of the Fall of Man from the condition of moral very-goodness +in God's sight. And I think that Dante connected the purifying +pains of his intermediate state with actual sufferings in this life, working +out repentance,—in himself and others. And the 'torment' of +this passion, to the repentant or resisting, or purity-seeking soul is +decidedly like the pain of physical burning. +</p><p> +"Further, its casuistry is impracticable; because the more you stir +the said 'fire' the stronger hold it takes. Therefore, men and women +are <i>rightly</i> secret about it, and detailed confessions unadvisable. Much +talk about 'hypocrisy' in this matter is quite wrong and unjust. Then, +its connection with female beauty, as a cause of love between man and +woman, seems to me to be the inextricable nodus of the Fall, the here +inseparable mixture of good and evil, till soul and body are parted. +For the sense of seen Beauty is the awakening of Love, at whatever +distance from any kind of return or sympathy—as with a rose, or what +not. Sandro may be the man who has gone nearest to the right separation +of Delight from Desire: supposing that he began with religion +and a straight conscience; saw lovingly the error of Fra Filippo's way; +saw with intense distant love the error of Simonetta's; and reflected +on Florence and <i>its</i> way, and drew nearer and nearer to Savonarola, +being yet too big a man for asceticism; and finally wearied of all things +and sunk into poverty and peace."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_73" id="Footnote_1_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_73"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Pitti, Stanza di Prometeo, 348.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_74" id="Footnote_2_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_74"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> I think Zipporah may be a remembrance of her.</p></div> + +</div> + +<div class="bbox gap3"> +<h3>Transcribers' Notes</h3> +<p class="gap1" style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">General: Corrections to punctuation have not been individually noted</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">List of Plates: Fac-simile standardised to Facsimile (3 occurrences)</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">List of Plates, Illustration III: Fesole standardised to Fésole</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">List of Plates: Obedienta corrected to Obediente</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Pages 10, 31, 105: Leonardo standardised to Lionardo</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Pages 26, 78: nell' arte as in original</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Page 27: Durer as in original diagram</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Page 46: line work standardised to line-work (first occurrence)</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Page 47, 51, 54, 70, 151: wood-cuts standardised to woodcuts</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Page 50, 51, 53, 56, 57, 59, 70, 107, 147: wood-cut standardised to woodcut</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Page 76: dexterous standardised to dextrous</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Page 103: "Holbein had bitterer task." as in the original</p> +<p style="padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;">Page 112: beame corrected to became</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ariadne Florentina, by John Ruskin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARIADNE FLORENTINA *** + +***** This file should be named 27268-h.htm or 27268-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/2/6/27268/ + +Produced by Brownfox, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/27268-h/images/image036.png b/27268-h/images/image036.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6cd1497 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image036.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image040a.png b/27268-h/images/image040a.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f0ca82 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image040a.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image040b.png b/27268-h/images/image040b.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..37d2686 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image040b.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image040c.png b/27268-h/images/image040c.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..86edb67 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image040c.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image053.png b/27268-h/images/image053.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a7b7fa2 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image053.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image058.png b/27268-h/images/image058.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c05557 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image058.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image061.png b/27268-h/images/image061.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6bc9ba7 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image061.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image068.png b/27268-h/images/image068.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce43c84 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image068.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image071.png b/27268-h/images/image071.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c70fcd1 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image071.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image079.png b/27268-h/images/image079.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4113614 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image079.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image091.png b/27268-h/images/image091.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ca74e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image091.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image098.png b/27268-h/images/image098.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..475ed86 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image098.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image113.png b/27268-h/images/image113.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4095a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image113.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image115.png b/27268-h/images/image115.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9c5219 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image115.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image120.png b/27268-h/images/image120.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1501cd6 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image120.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image130.png b/27268-h/images/image130.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ead6da --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image130.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image134.png b/27268-h/images/image134.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..50c0146 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image134.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image161.png b/27268-h/images/image161.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebb9207 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image161.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image164.png b/27268-h/images/image164.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f2412e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image164.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image167.png b/27268-h/images/image167.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d13211 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image167.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image172.png b/27268-h/images/image172.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3be2bd2 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image172.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image184.png b/27268-h/images/image184.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f760ef --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image184.png diff --git a/27268-h/images/image199.png b/27268-h/images/image199.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..25b0901 --- /dev/null +++ b/27268-h/images/image199.png |
