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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29906-8.txt b/29906-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..852fb0c --- /dev/null +++ b/29906-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10320 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Modern Painters Volume II (of V), 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: Modern Painters Volume II (of V) + +Author: John Ruskin + +Release Date: September 4, 2009 [EBook #29906] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN PAINTERS VOLUME II (OF V) *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marius Borror and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +Transcriber's notes: A few typographical errors have been corrected: they +are listed at the end of the text. + +Chapter headings were originally constructed as side-notes. They were +placed here at the head of their respective paragraphs, and moved to +paragraph's start where given at paragraph's middle. See HTML version +for the original headers placement. + + + + +[Illustration: LANDSCAPE FROM A PAINTING BY J. M. W. TURNER] + + + Library Edition + + THE COMPLETE WORKS + + OF + + JOHN RUSKIN + + + MODERN PAINTERS + VOLUME II--OF TRUTH AND THEORETIC + FACULTIES + _Volume III_--OF MANY THINGS + + + NATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION + NEW YORK CHICAGO + + + + + MODERN PAINTERS. + + VOLUME II., + + CONTAINING + + PART III., + + SECTIONS I. AND II. + + OF THE IMAGINATIVE AND THEORETIC FACULTIES. + + + + + SYNOPSIS OF CONTENTS. + + PART III. + + OF IDEAS OF BEAUTY. + + + + SECTION I. + + OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + +CHAPTER I.--Of the Rank and Relations of the Theoretic Faculty. + PAGE + § 1. With what care the subject is to be approached. 1 + § 2. And of what importance considered. 2 + § 3. The doubtful force of the term "utility". 3 + § 4. Its proper sense. 4 + § 5. How falsely applied in these times. 4 + § 6. The evil consequences of such interpretation. How connected + with national power. 5 + § 7. How to be averted. 6 + § 8. Division of the pursuits of men into subservient and objective. 8 + § 9. Their relative dignities. 10 + § 10. How reversed through erring notions of the contemplative + and imaginative faculties. 10 + § 11. Object of the present section. 11 + + +CHAPTER II.--Of the Theoretic Faculty as concerned with Pleasures of + Sense. + + § 1. Explanation of the term "theoretic". 12 + § 2. Of the differences of rank in pleasures of sense. 12 + § 3. Use of the terms Temperate and Intemperate. 13 + § 4. Right use of the term "intemperate". 13 + § 5. Grounds of inferiority in the pleasures which are subjects of + intemperance. 14 + § 6. Evidence of higher rank in pleasures of sight and hearing. 15 + § 7. How the lower pleasures may be elevated in rank. 16 + § 8. Ideas of beauty how essentially moral. 17 + § 9. How degraded by heartless reception. 17 + § 10. How exalted by affection. 18 + + +CHAPTER III.--Of Accuracy and Inaccuracy in Impressions of Sense. + + § 1. By what test is the health of the perceptive faculty to be + determined? 19 + § 2. And in what sense may the terms Right and Wrong be attached + to its conclusions? 20 + § 3. What power we have over impressions of sense. 21 + § 4. Depends on acuteness of attention. 21 + § 5. Ultimate conclusions universal. 22 + § 6. What duty is attached to this power over impressions of sense. 22 + § 7. How rewarded. 23 + § 8. Especially with respect to ideas of beauty. 23 + § 9. Errors induced by the power of habit. 24 + § 10. The necessity of submission in early stages of judgment. 24 + § 11. The large scope of matured judgment. 25 + § 12. How distinguishable from false taste. 25 + § 13. The danger of a spirit of choice. 26 + § 14. And criminality. 27 + § 15. How certain conclusions respecting beauty are by reason + demonstrable. 27 + § 16. With what liabilities to error. 28 + § 17. The term "beauty" how limitable in the outset. Divided + into typical and vital. 28 + + +CHAPTER IV.--Of False Opinions held concerning Beauty. + + § 1. Of the false opinion that truth is beauty, and vice versa. 30 + § 2. Of the false opinion that beauty is usefulness. Compare + Chap. xii. § 5. 31 + § 3. Of the false opinion that beauty results from custom. Compare + Chap. vi. § 1. 31 + § 4. The twofold operation of custom. It deadens sensation, but + confirms affection. 31 + § 5. But never either creates or destroys the essence of beauty. 32 + § 6. Instances. 32 + § 7. Of the false opinion that beauty depends on the association of + ideas. 33 + § 8. Association. Is, 1st, rational. It is of no efficiency as a + cause of beauty. 33 + § 9. Association accidental. The extent of its influence. 34 + § 10. The dignity of its function. 35 + § 11. How it is connected with impressions of beauty. 36 + § 12. And what caution it renders necessary in the examination of + them. 36 + + +CHAPTER V.--Of Typical Beauty:--First, of Infinity, or the Type of + Divine Incomprehensibility. + + § 1. Impossibility of adequately treating the subject. 38 + § 2. With what simplicity of feeling to be approached. 38 + § 3. The child instinct respecting space. 39 + § 4. Continued in after life. 40 + § 5. Whereto this instinct is traceable. 40 + § 6. Infinity how necessary in art. 41 + § 7. Conditions of its necessity. 42 + § 8. And connected analogies. 42 + § 9. How the dignity of treatment is proportioned to the expression + of infinity. 43 + § 10. Examples among the Southern schools. 44 + § 11. Among the Venetians. 44 + § 12. Among the painters of landscape. 45 + § 13. Other modes in which the power of infinity is felt. 45 + § 14. The beauty of curvature. 46 + § 15. How constant in external nature. 46 + § 16. The beauty of gradation. 47 + § 17. How found in nature. 47 + § 18. How necessary in Art. 48 + § 19. Infinity not rightly implied by vastness. 49 + + +CHAPTER VI.--Of Unity, or the Type of the Divine Comprehensiveness. + + § 1. The general conception of divine Unity. 50 + § 2. The glory of all things is their Unity. 50 + § 3. The several kinds of unity. Subjectional. Original. Of + sequence, and of membership. 51 + § 4 Unity of membership. How secured. 52 + § 5. Variety. Why required. 53 + § 6. Change, and its influence on beauty. 54 + § 7. The love of change. How morbid and evil. 55 + § 8. The conducing of variety towards unity of subjection. 55 + § 9. And towards unity of sequence. 57 + § 10. The nature of proportion. 1st, of apparent proportion. 57 + § 11. The value of apparent proportion in curvature. 60 + § 12. How by nature obtained. 61 + § 13. Apparent proportion in melodies of line. 61 + § 14. Error of Burke in this matter. 62 + § 15. Constructive proportion. Its influence in plants. 63 + § 16. And animals. 64 + § 17. Summary. 64 + + +CHAPTER VII.--Of Repose, or the Type of Divine Permanence. + + § 1. Universal feeling respecting the necessity of repose in art. + Its sources. 65 + § 2. Repose how expressed in matter. 66 + § 3. The necessity to repose of an implied energy. 66 + § 4. Mental repose, how noble. 67 + § 5. Its universal value as a test of art. 68 + § 6. Instances in the Laocoon and Theseus. 69 + § 7. And in altar tombs. 70 + + +CHAPTER VIII.--Of Symmetry, or the Type of Divine Justice. + + § 1. Symmetry, what and how found in organic nature. 72 + § 2. How necessary in art. 72 + § 3. To what its agreeableness is referable. Various instances. 73 + § 4. Especially in religious art. 73 + + +CHAPTER IX.--Of Purity, or the Type of Divine Energy. + + § 1. The influence of light as a sacred symbol. 75 + § 2. The idea of purity connected with it. 75 + § 3. Originally derived from conditions of matter. 76 + § 4. Associated ideas adding to the power of the impression. + Influence of clearness. 76 + § 5. Perfect beauty of surface, in what consisting. 77 + § 6. Purity only metaphorically a type of sinlessness. 78 + § 7. Energy, how expressed by purity of matter. 79 + § 8. And of color. 79 + § 9. Spirituality, how so expressed. 79 + + +CHAPTER X.--Of Moderation, or the Type of Government by Law. + + § 1. Meaning of the terms Chasteness and Refinement. 81 + § 2. How referable to temporary fashions. 81 + § 3. How to the perception of completion. 81 + § 4. Finish, by great masters esteemed essential. 82 + § 5. Moderation, its nature and value. 84 + § 6. It is the girdle of beauty. 84 + § 7. How found in natural curves and colors. 84 + § 8. How difficult of attainment, yet essential to all good. 85 + + +CHAPTER XI.--General Inferences respecting Typical Beauty. + + § 1. The subject incompletely treated, yet admitting of general + conclusions. 86 + § 2. Typical beauty not created for man's sake. 87 + § 3. But degrees of it for his sake admitted. 87 + § 4. What encouragement hence to be received. 87 + + +CHAPTER XII.--Of Vital Beauty:--First, as Relative. + + § 1. Transition from typical to vital Beauty. 89 + § 2. The perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with + vital beauty, is charity. 90 + § 3. Only with respect to plants, less affection than sympathy. 91 + § 4. Which is proportioned to the appearance of energy in the + plants. 92 + § 5. This sympathy is unselfish, and does not regard utility. 93 + § 6. Especially with respect to animals. 94 + § 7. And it is destroyed by evidences of mechanism. 95 + § 8. The second perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned + with life is justice of moral judgment. 96 + § 9. How impeded. 97 + § 10. The influence of moral signs in expression. 97 + § 11. As also in plants. 99 + § 12. Recapitulation. 100 + + +CHAPTER XIII.--Of Vital Beauty:--Secondly, as Generic. + + § 1. The beauty of fulfilment of appointed function in every + animal. 101 + § 2. The two senses of the word "ideal." Either it refers to + action of the imagination. 102 + § 3. Or to perfection of type. 103 + § 4. This last sense how inaccurate, yet to be retained. 103 + § 5. Of Ideal form. First, in the lower animals. 104 + § 6. In what consistent. 104 + § 7. Ideal form in vegetables. 105 + § 8. The difference of position between plants and animals. 105 + § 9. Admits of variety in the ideal of the former. 106 + § 10. Ideal form in vegetables destroyed by cultivation. 107 + § 11. Instance in the Soldanella and Ranunculus. 108 + § 12. The beauty of repose and felicity, how consistent with such + ideal. 108 + § 13. The ideality of Art. 109 + § 14. How connected with the imaginative faculties. 109 + § 15. Ideality, how belonging to ages and conditions. 110 + + +CHAPTER XIV.--Of Vital Beauty:--Thirdly, in Man. + + § 1. Condition of the human creature entirely different from that + of the lower animals. 111 + § 2. What room here for idealization. 111 + § 3. How the conception of the bodily ideal is reached. 112 + § 4. Modifications of the bodily ideal owing to influence of mind. + First, of intellect. 113 + § 5. Secondly, of the moral feelings. 113 + § 6. What beauty is bestowed by them. 115 + § 7. How the soul culture interferes harmfully with the bodily + ideal. 115 + § 8. The inconsistency among the effects of the mental virtues on + the form. 116 + § 9. Is a sign of God's kind purpose towards the race. 116 + § 10. Consequent separation and difference of ideals. 117 + § 11. The _effects_ of the Adamite curse are to be + distinguished from signs of its immediate activity. 118 + § 12. Which latter only are to be banished from ideal form. 118 + § 13. Ideal form is only to be obtained by portraiture. 119 + § 14. Instances among the greater of the ideal Masters. 119 + § 15. Evil results of opposite practice in modern times. 120 + § 16. The right use of the model. 121 + § 17. Ideal form to be reached only by love. 121 + § 18. Practical principles deducible. 122 + § 19. Expressions chiefly destructive of ideal character. 1st, + Pride. 122 + § 20. Portraiture ancient and modern. 123 + § 21. Secondly, Sensuality. 123 + § 22. How connected with impurity of color. 124 + § 23. And prevented by its splendor. 124 + § 24. Or by severity of drawing. 125 + § 25. Degrees of descent in this respect: Rubens, Correggio, and + Guido. 125 + § 26. And modern art. 126 + § 27. Thirdly, ferocity and fear. The latter how to be distinguished + from awe. 126 + § 28. Holy fear, how distinct from human terror. 127 + § 29. Ferocity is joined always with fear. Its unpardonableness. 127 + § 30. Such expressions how sought by painters powerless and impious. 128 + § 31. Of passion generally. 129 + § 32. It is never to be for itself exhibited--at least on the face. 130 + § 33. Recapitulation. 131 + + +CHAPTER XV.--General Conclusions respecting the Theoretic Faculty. + + § 1. There are no sources of the emotion of beauty more than those + found in things visible. 133 + § 2. What imperfection exists in visible things. How in a sort by + imagination removable. 134 + § 3. Which however affects not our present conclusions. 134 + § 4. The four sources from which the pleasure of beauty is derived + are all divine. 134 + § 5. What objections may be made to this conclusion. 135 + § 6. Typical beauty may be ęsthetically pursued. Instances. 135 + § 7. How interrupted by false feeling. 136 + § 8. Greatness and truth are sometimes by the Deity sustained and + spoken in and through evil men. 137 + § 9. The second objection arising from the coldness of Christian + men to external beauty. 138 + § 10. Reasons for this coldness in the anxieties of the world. These + anxieties overwrought and criminal. 139 + § 11. Evil consequences of such coldness. 140 + § 12. Theoria the service of Heaven. 140 + + + + + SECTION II. + + OF THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY. + + +CHAPTER I.--Of the Three Forms of Imagination. + + § 1. A partial examination only of the imagination is to be + attempted. 142 + § 2. The works of the metaphysicians how nugatory with respect + to this faculty. 143 + § 3. The definition of D. Stewart, how inadequate. 143 + § 4. This instance nugatory. 144 + § 5. Various instances. 145 + § 6. The three operations of the imagination. Penetrative, + associative, contemplative. 146 + + +CHAPTER II.--Of Imagination Associative. + + § 1. Of simple conception. 147 + § 2. How connected with verbal knowledge. 148 + § 3. How used in composition. 148 + § 4. Characteristics of composition. 149 + § 5. What powers are implied by it. The first of the three + functions of fancy. 150 + § 6. Imagination not yet manifested. 150 + § 7. Imagination is the correlative conception of imperfect + component parts. 151 + § 8. Material analogy with imagination. 151 + § 9. The grasp and dignity of imagination. 152 + § 10. Its limits. 153 + § 11. How manifested in treatment of uncertain relations. Its + deficiency illustrated. 154 + § 12. Laws of art, the safeguard of the unimaginative. 155 + § 13. Are by the imaginative painter despised. Tests of imagination. 155 + § 14. The monotony of unimaginative treatment. 156 + § 15. Imagination never repeats itself. 157 + § 16. Relation of the imaginative faculty to the theoretic. 157 + § 17. Modification of its manifestation. 158 + § 18. Instances of absence of imagination.--Claude, Gaspar Poussin. 158 + § 19. Its presence.--Salvator, Nicolo Poussin, Titian, Tintoret. 159 + § 20. And Turner. 160 + § 21. The due function of Associative imagination with respect to + nature. 161 + § 22. The sign of imaginative work is its appearance of absolute + truth. 161 + + +CHAPTER III.--Of Imagination Penetrative. + + § 1. Imagination penetrative is concerned not with the combining + but apprehending of things. 163 + § 2. Milton's and Dante's description of flame. 163 + § 3. The imagination seizes always by the innermost point. 164 + § 4. It acts intuitively and without reasoning. 165 + § 5. Signs of it in language. 165 + § 6. Absence of imagination, how shown. 166 + § 7. Distinction between imagination and fancy. 166 + § 8. Fancy how involved with imagination. 168 + § 9. Fancy is never serious. 169 + § 10. Want of seriousness the bar to high art at the present time. 169 + § 11. Imagination is quiet; fancy, restless. 170 + § 12. The detailing operation of fancy. 170 + § 13. And suggestive, of the imagination. 171 + § 14. This suggestiveness how opposed to vacancy. 172 + § 15. Imagination addresses itself to imagination. 173 + Instances from the works of Tintoret. 173 + § 16. The entombment. 174 + § 17. The Annunciation. 174 + § 18. The Baptism of Christ. Its treatment by various painters. 176 + § 19. By Tintoret. 177 + § 20. The Crucifixion. 178 + § 21. The Massacre of innocents. 179 + § 22. Various works in the Scuola di San Rocco. 181 + § 23. The Last Judgment. How treated by various painters. 181 + § 24. By Tintoret. 182 + § 25. The imaginative verity, how distinguished from realism. 183 + § 26. The imagination how manifested in sculpture. 184 + § 27. Bandinelli, Canova, Mino da Fiesole. 184 + § 28. Michael Angelo. 185 + § 29. Recapitulation. The perfect function of the imagination is + the intuitive perception of ultimate truth. 188 + § 30. Imagination how vulgarly understood. 190 + § 31. How its cultivation is dependent on the moral feelings. 190 + § 32. On independence of mind. 191 + § 33. And on habitual reference to nature. 191 + + +CHAPTER IV.--Of Imagination Contemplative. + + § 1. Imagination contemplative is not part of the essence, but only + a habit or mode of the faculty. 192 + § 2. The ambiguity of conception. 192 + § 3. Is not in itself capable of adding to the charm of fair + things. 193 + § 4. But gives to the imagination its regardant power over them. 194 + § 5. The third office of fancy distinguished from imagination + contemplative. 195 + § 6. Various instances. 197 + § 7. Morbid or nervous fancy. 200 + § 8. The action of contemplative imagination is not to be expressed + by art. 201 + § 9. Except under narrow limits.--1st. Abstract rendering of + form without color. 201 + § 10. Of color without form. 202 + § 11. Or of both without texture. 202 + § 12. Abstraction or typical representation of animal form. 203 + § 13. Either when it is symbolically used. 204 + § 14. Or in architectural decoration. 205 + § 15. Exception in delicate and superimposed ornament. 206 + § 16. Abstraction necessary from imperfection of materials. 206 + § 17. Abstractions of things capable of varied accident are not + imaginative. 207 + § 18. Yet sometimes valuable. 207 + § 19. Exaggeration. Its laws and limits. First, in scale of + representation. 208 + § 20. Secondly, of things capable of variety of scale. 209 + § 21. Thirdly, necessary in expression of characteristic features on + diminished scale. 210 + § 22. Recapitulation. 211 + + +CHAPTER V.--Of the Superhuman Ideal. + + § 1. The subject is not to be here treated in detail. 212 + § 2. The conceivable modes of manifestation of Spiritual Beings + are four. 212 + § 3. And these are in or through creature forms familiar to us. 213 + § 4. Supernatural character may be impressed on these either by + phenomena inconsistent with their common nature (compare + Chap. iv. § 16). 213 + § 5. Or by inherent Dignity. 213 + § 6. 1st. Of the expression of inspiration. 214 + § 7. No representation of that which is more than creature is + possible. 215 + § 8. Supernatural character expressed by modification of + accessories. 216 + § 9. Landscape of the religious painters. Its character is + eminently symmetrical. 217 + § 10. Landscape of Benozzo Gozzoli. 217 + § 11. Landscape of Perugino and Raffaelle. 218 + § 12. Such Landscape is not to be imitated. 218 + § 13. Color, and Decoration. Their use in representations of the + Supernatural. 219 + § 14. Decoration so used must be generic. 220 + § 15. And color pure. 220 + § 16. Ideal form of the body itself, of what variety susceptible. 221 + § 17. Anatomical development how far admissible. 221 + § 18. Symmetry. How valuable. 221 + § 19. The influence of Greek art, how dangerous. 222 + § 20. Its scope, how limited. 223 + § 21. Conclusion. 224 + + +ADDENDA. 225 + + + + + LIST OF PLATES TO VOLUME II. + + + + _Page._ + + Court of the Ducal Palace, Venice 10 + From a drawing by Ruskin. + + Tomb of the Ilaria di Caretto, Lucca 72 + From a photograph. + + The Adoration of the Magi 158 + From a painting by Ruskin, after Tintoret. + + Study of Stone Pine, at Sestri 198 + From a drawing by Ruskin. + + + + + PART III. + + OF IDEAS OF BEAUTY. + + SECTION I. + + OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + OF THE RANK AND RELATIONS OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + +§ 1. With what care the subject is to be approached. + +Although the hasty execution and controversial tone of the former +portions of this essay have been subjects of frequent regret to the +writer, yet the one was in some measure excusable in a work referred to +a temporary end, and the other unavoidable, in one directed against +particular opinions. Nor are either of any necessary detriment to its +availableness as a foundation for more careful and extended survey, in +so far as its province was confined to the assertion of obvious and +visible facts, the verification of which could in no degree be dependent +either on the care with which they might be classed, or the temper in +which they were regarded. Not so with respect to the investigation now +before us, which, being not of things outward, and sensibly +demonstrable, but of the value and meaning of mental impressions, must +be entered upon with a modesty and cautiousness proportioned to the +difficulty of determining the likeness, or community of such +impressions, as they are received by different men, and with seriousness +proportioned to the importance of rightly regarding those faculties over +which we have moral power, and therefore in relation to which we +assuredly incur a moral responsibility. There is not the thing left to +the choice of man to do or not to do, but there is some sort of degree +of duty involved in his determination; and by how much the more, +therefore, our subject becomes embarrassed by the cross influences of +variously admitted passion, administered discipline, or encouraged +affection, upon the minds of men, by so much the more it becomes matter +of weight and import to observe by what laws we should be guided, and of +what responsibilities regardful, in all that we admit, administer, or +encourage. + + +§ 2. And of what importance considered. + +Nor indeed have I ever, even in the preceding sections, spoken with +levity, though sometimes perhaps with rashness. I have never treated the +subject as other than demanding heedful and serious examination, and +taking high place among those which justify as they reward our utmost +ardor and earnestness of pursuit. That it justifies them must be my +present task to prove; that it demands them has never been doubted. Art, +properly so called, is no recreation; it cannot be learned at spare +moments, nor pursued when we have nothing better to do. It is no +handiwork for drawing-room tables; no relief of the ennui of boudoirs; +it must be understood and undertaken seriously or not at all. To advance +it men's lives must be given, and to receive it their hearts. "Le +peintre Rubens s'amuse ą źtre ambassadeur," said one with whom, but for +his own words, we might have thought that effort had been absorbed in +power, and the labor of his art in its felicity.--"E faticoso lo studio +della pittura, et sempre si fa il mare maggiore," said he, who of all +men was least likely to have left us discouraging report of anything +that majesty of intellect could grasp, or continuity of labor +overcome.[1] But that this labor, the necessity of which in all ages has +been most frankly admitted by the greatest men, is justifiable in a +moral point of view, that it is not the pouring out of men's lives upon +the ground, that it has functions of usefulness addressed to the +weightiest of human interests, and that the objects of it have calls +upon us which it is inconsistent alike with our human dignity and our +heavenward duty to disobey--has never been boldly asserted nor fairly +admitted; least of all is it likely to be so in these days of dispatch +and display, where vanity, on the one side, supplies the place of that +love of art which is the only effective patronage, and on the other, of +the incorruptible and earnest pride which no applause, no reprobation, +can blind to its shortcomings nor beguile of its hope. + +And yet it is in the expectation of obtaining at least a partial +acknowledgment of this, as a truth influential both of aim and conduct, +that I enter upon the second division of my subject. The time I have +already devoted to the task I should have considered altogether +inordinate, and that which I fear may be yet required for its completion +would have been cause to me of utter discouragement, but that the object +I propose to myself is of no partial nor accidental importance. It is +not now to distinguish between disputed degrees of ability in +individuals, or agreeableness in canvases, it is not now to expose the +ignorance or defend the principles of party or person. It is to summon +the moral energies of the nation to a forgotten duty, to display the +use, force, and function of a great body of neglected sympathies and +desires, and to elevate to its healthy and beneficial operation that art +which, being altogether addressed to them, rises or falls with their +variableness of vigor,--now leading them with Tyrtęan fire, now singing +them to sleep with baby murmurings. + + +§ 3. The doubtful force of the term "utility." + +Only as I fear that with many of us the recommendation of our own +favorite pursuits is rooted more in conceit of ourselves, than affection +towards others, so that sometimes in our very pointing of the way, we +had rather that the intricacy of it should be admired than unfolded, +whence a natural distrust of such recommendation may well have place in +the minds of those who have not yet perceived any value in the thing +praised, and because also, men in the present century understand the +word Useful in a strange way, or at least (for the word has been often +so accepted from the beginning of time) since in these days, they act +its more limited meaning farther out, and give to it more practical +weight and authority, it will be well in the outset that I define +exactly what kind of utility I mean to attribute to art, and especially +to that branch of it which is concerned with those impressions of +external beauty whose nature it is our present object to discover. + + +§ 4. Its proper sense. + +That is to everything created, pre-eminently useful, which enables it +rightly and fully to perform the functions appointed to it by its +Creator. Therefore, that we may determine what is chiefly useful to man, +it is necessary first to determine the use of man himself. + +Man's use and function (and let him who will not grant me this follow me +no farther, for this I purpose always to assume) is to be the witness of +the glory of God, and to advance that glory by his reasonable obedience +and resultant happiness. + +Whatever enables us to fulfil this function, is in the pure and first +sense of the word useful to us. Pre-eminently therefore whatever sets +the glory of God more brightly before us. But things that only help us +to exist, are in a secondary and mean sense, useful, or rather, if they +be looked for alone, they are useless and worse, for it would be better +that we should not exist, than that we should guiltily disappoint the +purposes of existence. + + +§ 5. How falsely applied in these times. + +And yet people speak in this working age, when they speak from their +hearts, as if houses, and lands, and food, and raiment were alone +useful, and as if sight, thought, and admiration,[2] were all +profitless, so that men insolently call themselves Utilitarians, who +would turn, if they had their way, themselves and their race into +vegetables; men who think, as far as such can be said to think, that the +meat is more than the life, and the raiment than the body, who look to +the earth as a stable, and to its fruit as fodder; vinedressers and +husbandmen, who love the corn they grind, and the grapes they crush, +better than the gardens of the angels upon the slopes of Eden; hewers of +wood and drawers of water, who think that the wood they hew and the +water they draw, are better than the pine-forests that cover the +mountains like the shadow of God, and than the great rivers that move +like his eternity. And so comes upon us that woe of the preacher, that +though God "hath made everything beautiful in his time, also he hath set +the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God +maketh from the beginning to the end." + + +§ 6. The evil consequences of such interpretation. How connected with + national power. + +This Nebuchadnezzar curse, that sends us to grass like oxen, seems to +follow but too closely on the excess or continuance of national power +and peace. In the perplexities of nations, in their struggles for +existence, in their infancy, their impotence, or even their +disorganization, they have higher hopes and nobler passions. Out of the +suffering comes the serious mind; out of the salvation, the grateful +heart; out of the endurance, the fortitude; out of the deliverance, the +faith; but now when they have learned to live under providence of laws, +and with decency and justice of regard for each other; and when they +have done away with violent and external sources of suffering, worse +evils seem arising out of their rest, evils that vex less and mortify +more, that suck the blood though they do not shed it, and ossify the +heart though they do not torture it. And deep though the causes of +thankfulness must be to every people at peace with others and at unity +in itself, there are causes of fear also, a fear greater than of sword +and sedition; that dependence on God may be forgotten because the bread +is given and the water is sure, that gratitude to him may cease because +his constancy of protection has taken the semblance of a natural law, +that heavenly hope may grow faint amidst the full fruition of the world, +that selfishness may take place of undemanded devotion, compassion be +lost in vain-glory, and love in dissimulation,[3] that enervation may +succeed to strength, apathy to patience, and the noise of jesting words +and foulness of dark thoughts, to the earnest purity of the girded loins +and the burning lamp. About the river of human life there is a wintry +wind, though a heavenly sunshine; the iris colors its agitation, the +frost fixes upon its repose. Let us beware that our rest become not the +rest of stones, which so long as they are torrent-tossed, and +thunder-stricken, maintain their majesty, but when the stream is silent, +and the storm passed, suffer the grass to cover them and the lichen to +feed on them, and are ploughed down into dust. + + +§ 7. How to be averted. + +And though I believe that we have salt enough of ardent and holy mind +amongst us to keep us in some measure from this moral decay, yet the +signs of it must be watched with anxiety, in all matter however trivial, +in all directions however distant. And at this time, when the iron roads +are tearing up the surface of Europe, as grapeshot do the sea, when +their great sagene is drawing and twitching the ancient frame and +strength of England together, contracting all its various life, its +rocky arms and rural heart, into a narrow, finite, calculating +metropolis of manufactures, when there is not a monument throughout the +cities of Europe, that speaks of old years and mighty people, but it is +being swept away to build cafés and gaming-houses;[4] when the honor of +God is thought to consist in the poverty of his temple, and the column +is shortened, and the pinnacle shattered, the color denied to the +casement, and the marble to the altar, while exchequers are exhausted in +luxury of boudoirs, and pride of reception-rooms; when we ravage without +a pause all the loveliness of creation which God in giving pronounced +good, and destroy without a thought all those labors which men have +given their lives, and their sons' sons' lives to complete, and have +left for a legacy to all their kind, a legacy of more than their hearts' +blood, for it is of their souls' travail, there is need, bitter need, to +bring back, if we may, into men's minds, that to live is nothing, +unless to live be to know Him by whom we live, and that he is not to be +known by marring his fair works, and blotting out the evidence of his +influences upon his creatures, not amid the hurry of crowds and crash of +innovation, but in solitary places, and out of the glowing intelligences +which he gave to men of old. He did not teach them how to build for +glory and for beauty, he did not give them the fearless, faithful, +inherited energies that worked on and down from death to death, +generation after generation, that we, foul and sensual as we are, might +give the carved work of their poured-out spirit to the axe and the +hammer; he has not cloven the earth with rivers, that their white wild +waves might turn wheels and push paddles, nor turned it up under as it +were fire, that it might heat wells and cure diseases; he brings not up +his quails by the east wind, only to let them fall in flesh about the +camp of men: he has not heaped the rocks of the mountain only for the +quarry, nor clothed the grass of the field only for the oven. + + +§ 8. Division of the pursuits of men into subservient and objective. + +All science and all art may be divided into that which is subservient to +life, and which is the object of it. As subservient to life, or +practical, their results are, in the common sense of the word, useful. +As the object of life or theoretic, they are, in the common sense, +useless; and yet the step between practical and theoretic science is the +step between the miner and the geologist, the apothecary and the +chemist; and the step between practical and theoretic art is that +between the bricklayer and the architect, between the plumber and the +artist, and this is a step allowed on all hands to be from less to +greater; so that the so-called useless part of each profession does by +the authoritative and right instinct of mankind assume the superior and +more noble place, even though books be sometimes written, and that by +writers of no ordinary mind, which assume that a chemist is rewarded for +the years of toil which have traced the greater part of the combinations +of matter to their ultimate atoms, by discovering a cheap way of +refining sugar, and date the eminence of the philosopher, whose life has +been spent in the investigation of the laws of light, from the time of +his inventing an improvement in spectacles. + +But the common consent of men proves and accepts the proposition, that +whatever part of any pursuit ministers to the bodily comforts, and +admits of material uses, is ignoble, and whatsoever part is addressed to +the mind only, is noble; and that geology does better in reclothing dry +bones and revealing lost creations, than in tracing veins of lead and +beds of iron; astronomy better in opening to us the houses of heaven +than in teaching navigation; botany better in displaying structure than +in expressing juices; surgery better in investigating organization than +in setting limbs; only it is ordained that, for our encouragement, every +step we make in the more exalted range of science adds something also to +its practical applicabilities; that all the great phenomena of nature, +the knowledge of which is desired by the angels only, by us partly, as +it reveals to farther vision the being and the glory of Him in whom they +rejoice and we live, dispense yet such kind influences and so much of +material blessing as to be joyfully felt by all inferior creatures, and +to be desired by them with such single desire as the imperfection of +their nature may admit;[5] that the strong torrents which, in their own +gladness fill the hills with hollow thunder and the vales with winding +light, have yet their bounden charge of field to feed and barge to bear; +that the fierce flames to which the Alp owes its upheaval and the +volcano its terror, temper for us the metal vein and quickening spring; +and that for our incitement, I say not our reward, for knowledge is its +own reward, herbs have their healing, stones their preciousness, and +stars their times. + + +§ 9. Their relative dignities. + +§ 10. How reversed through erring notions of the contemplative and + imaginative faculties. + +It would appear, therefore, that those pursuits which are altogether +theoretic, whose results are desirable or admirable in themselves and +for their own sake, and in which no farther end to which their +productions or discoveries are referred, can interrupt the contemplation +of things as they are, by the endeavor to discover of what selfish uses +they are capable (and of this order are painting and sculpture), ought +to take rank above all pursuits which have any taint in them of +subserviency to life, in so far as all such tendency is the sign of less +eternal and less holy function.[6] And such rank these two sublime arts +would indeed assume in the minds of nations, and become objects of +corresponding efforts, but for two fatal and widespread errors +respecting the great faculties of mind concerned in them. + +The first of these, or the theoretic faculty, is concerned with the +moral perception and appreciation of ideas of beauty. And the error +respecting it is the considering and calling it ęsthetic, degrading it +to a mere operation of sense, or perhaps worse, of custom, so that the +arts which appeal to it sink into a mere amusement, ministers to morbid +sensibilities, ticklers and fanners of the soul's sleep. + +The second great faculty is the imaginative, which the mind exercises in +a certain mode of regarding or combining the ideas it has received from +external nature, and the operations of which become in their turn +objects of the theoretic faculty to other minds. + +[Illustration: COURT OF THE DUCAL PALACE, VENICE. From a drawing by +Ruskin.] + +And the error respecting this faculty is, that its function is one of +falsehood, that its operation is to exhibit things as they are _not_, +and that in so doing it mends the works of God. + + +§ 11. Object of the present section. + +Now, as these are the two faculties to which I shall have occasion +constantly to refer during that examination of the ideas of beauty and +relation on which we are now entering, because it is only as received +and treated by these, that those ideas become exalted and profitable, it +becomes necessary for me, in the outset, to explain their power and +define their sphere, and to vindicate, in the system of our nature, +their true place for the intellectual lens and moral retina by which and +on which our informing thoughts are concentrated and represented. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [1] Tintoret. (Ridolfi. Vita.) + + [2] We live by admiration, hope, and love. (Excursion, Book IV.) + + [3] Rom. xii. 9. + + [4] The extent of ravage among works of art, or of historical + interest, continually committing throughout the continent may, + perhaps, be in some measure estimated from the following facts, to + which the experience of every traveller may add indefinitely: + + At Beauvois--The magnificent old houses supported on columns of + workmanship (so far as I recollect) unique in the north of France, + at the corner of the market-place, have recently been destroyed for + the enlarging of some ironmongery and grocery warehouses. The arch + across the street leading to the cathedral has been destroyed also, + for what purpose, I know not. + + At Rouen--The last of the characteristic houses on the quay is now + disappearing. When I was last there, I witnessed the destruction of + the noble gothic portal of the church of St. Nicholas, whose + position interfered with the courtyard of an hotel; the greater part + of the ancient churches are used as smithies, or warehouses for + goods. So also at Tours (St. Julien). One of the most interesting + and superb pieces of middle-age domestic architecture in Europe, + opposite the west front of the cathedral, is occupied as a café, and + its lower story concealed by painted wainscotings; representing, if + I recollect right, twopenny rolls surrounded by circles of admiring + cherubs. + + At Geneva--The wooden projections or loggias which were once the + characteristic feature of the city, have been entirely removed + within the last ten years. + + At Pisa--The old Baptistery is at this present time in process of + being "restored," that is, dashed to pieces, and common stone + painted black and varnished, substituted for its black marble. In + the Campo Santo, the invaluable frescoes, which might be protected + by merely glazing the arcades, are left exposed to wind and weather. + While I was there last year I saw a monument put up against the + lower part of the wall, to some private person; the bricklayers + knocked out a large space of the lower brickwork, with what + beneficial effect to the loose and blistered stucco on which the + frescoes are painted above, I leave the reader to imagine; inserted + the tablet, and then plastered over the marks of the insertion, + destroying a portion of the border of one of the paintings. The + greater part of Giotto's "Satan before God," has been destroyed by + the recent insertion of one of the beams of the roof. + + The tomb of Antonio Puccinello, which was the last actually put up + against the frescoes, and which destroyed the terminal subject of + the Giotto series, bears date 1808. + + It has been proposed (or at least it is so reported) that the church + of La Spina should be destroyed in order to widen the quay. + + At Florence--One of its most important and characteristic streets, + that in which stands the church of Or San Michele, has been within + the last five years entirely destroyed and rebuilt in the French + style; consisting now almost exclusively of shops of bijouterie and + parfumerie. Owing to this direction of public funds, the fronts of + the Duomo, Santa Croce, St. Lorenzo, and half the others in Florence + remain in their original bricks. + + The old refectory of Santa Croce, containing an invaluable Cenacolo, + if not by Giotto, at least one of the finest works of his school, is + used as a carpet manufactory. In order to see the fresco, I had to + get on the top of a loom. The _cenacolo_ (of Raffaelle?) recently + discovered, I saw when the refectory it adorns was used as a + coach-house. The fresco, which gave Raffaelle the idea of the Christ + of the Transfiguration, is in an old wood shed at San Miniato, + concealed behind a heap of faggots. In June, last year, I saw + Gentile da Fabriano's picture of the Adoration of the Magi, + belonging to the Academy of Florence, put face upmost in a shower of + rain in an open cart; on my suggesting the possibility of the rain + hurting it, an old piece of matting was thrown over its face, and it + was wheeled away "per essere pulita." What fate this signified, is + best to be discovered from the large Perugino in the Academy; whose + divine distant landscape is now almost concealed by the mass of + French ultramarine, painted over it apparently with a common house + brush, by the picture cleaner. + + Not to detain the reader by going through the cities of Italy, I + will only further mention, that at Padua, the rain beats through the + west window of the Arena chapel, and runs down _over_ the frescoes. + That at Venice, in September last, I saw three buckets set in the + scuola di San Rocco to catch the rain which came _through_ the + _canvases_ of Tintoret on the roof; and that while the old works of + art are left thus unprotected, the palaces are being restored in the + following modes. The English residents knock out bow windows to see + up and down the canal. The Italians paint all the _marble_ white or + cream color, stucco the fronts, and paint them in blue and white + stripes to imitate alabaster. (This has been done with Danieli's + hotel, with the north angle of the church of St. Mark, there + replacing the real alabasters which have been torn down, with a + noble old house in St. Mark's place, and with several in the narrow + canals.) The marbles of St. Mark's, and carvings, are being + _scraped_ down to make them look bright--the lower arcade of the + Doge's palace is whitewashed--the entrance porch is being + restored--the operation having already proceeded so far as the + knocking off of the heads of the old statues--an iron railing + painted black and yellow has been put round the court. Faded + tapestries, and lottery tickets (the latter for the benefit of + charitable institutions) are exposed for sale in the council + chambers. + + [5] Hooker, Eccl. Pol. Book I. chap. ii. § 2. + + [6] I do not assert that the accidental utility of a theoretic + pursuit, as of botany for instance, in any way degrades it, though + it cannot be considered as elevating it. But essential utility, a + purpose to which the pursuit is in some measure referred, as in + architecture, invariably degrades, because then the theoretic part + of the art is comparatively lost sight of; and thus architecture + takes a level below that of sculpture or painting, even when the + powers of mind developed in it are of the same high order. + + When we pronounce the name of Giotto, our venerant thoughts are at + Assisi and Padua, before they climb the Campanile of Santa Maria del + Fiore. And he who would raise the ghost of Michael Angelo, must + haunt the Sistine and St. Lorenzo, not St. Peter's. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY AS CONCERNED WITH PLEASURES OF SENSE. + + +§ 1. Explanation of the term "theoretic." + +I proceed therefore first, to examine the nature of what I have called +the Theoretic faculty, and to justify my substitution of the term +"theoretic" for ęsthetic, which is the one commonly employed with +reference to it. + +Now the term "ęsthesis" properly signifies mere sensual perception of +the outward qualities and necessary effects of bodies, in which sense +only, if we would arrive at any accurate conclusions on this difficult +subject, it should always be used. But I wholly deny that the +impressions of beauty are in any way sensual,--they are neither sensual +nor intellectual, but moral, and for the faculty receiving them, whose +difference from mere perception I shall immediately endeavor to explain, +no term can be more accurate or convenient than that employed by the +Greeks, "theoretic," which I pray permission, therefore, always to use, +and to call the operation of the faculty itself, Theoria. + + +§ 2. Of the differences of rank in pleasures of sense. + +Let us begin at the lowest point, and observe, first, what differences +of dignity may exist between different kinds of ęsthetic or sensual +pleasure, properly so called. + +Now it is evident that the being common to brutes, or peculiar to man, +can alone be no rational test of inferiority, or dignity in pleasures. +We must not assume that man is the nobler animal, and then deduce the +nobleness of his delights; but we must prove the nobleness of the +delights, and thence the nobleness of the animal. The dignity of +affection is no way lessened because a large measure of it may be found +in lower animals, neither is the vileness of gluttony and lust abated +because they are common to men. It is clear, therefore, that there is a +standard of dignity in the pleasures and passions themselves, by which +we also class the creatures capable of, or suffering them. + + +§ 3. Use of the terms Temperate and Intemperate. + +The first great distinction, we observe, is that noted of Aristotle, +that men are called temperate and intemperate with regard to some, and +not so with respect to others, and that those, with respect to which +they are so called, are, by common consent, held to be the vilest. But +Aristotle, though exquisitely subtle in his notation of facts, does not +frequently give us satisfactory account of, or reason for them. Content +with stating the fact of these pleasures being held the lowest, he shows +not why this estimation of them is just, and confuses the reader by +observing casually respecting the higher pleasures, what is indeed true, +but appears at first opposed to his own position, namely, that "men may +be conceived, as also in these taking pleasure, either rightly, or more +or less than is right."[7] Which being so, and evident capability of +excess or defect existing in pleasures of this higher order, we ought to +have been told how it happens that men are not called intemperate when +they indulge in excess of this kind, and what is that difference in the +nature of the pleasure which diminishes the criminality of its excess. +This let us attempt to ascertain. + + +§ 4. Right use of the term "intemperate." + +Men are held intemperate ([Greek: akolastoi]) only when their desires +overcome or prevent the action of their reason, and they are indeed +intemperate in the exact degree in which such prevention or interference +takes place, and so are actually [Greek: akolastoi], in many instances, +and with respect to many resolves, which lower not the world's +estimation of their temperance. For so long as it can be supposed that +the reason has acted imperfectly owing to its own imperfection, or to +the imperfection of the premises submitted to it, (as when men give an +inordinate preference to their own pursuits, because they cannot, in the +nature of things, have sufficiently experienced the goodness and benefit +of others,) and so long as it may be presumed that men have referred to +reason in what they do, and have not suffered its orders to be disobeyed +through mere impulse and desire, (though those orders may be full of +error owing to the reason's own feebleness,) so long men are not held +intemperate. But when it is palpably evident that the reason cannot have +erred but that its voice has been deadened or disobeyed, and that the +reasonable creature has been dragged dead round the walls of his own +citadel by mere passion and impulse,--then, and then only, men are of +all held intemperate. And this is evidently the case with respect to +inordinate indulgence in pleasures of touch and taste, for these, being +destructive in their continuance not only of all other pleasures, but +of the very sensibilities by which they themselves are received, and as +this penalty is actually known and experienced by those indulging in +them, so that the reason cannot but pronounce right respecting their +perilousness, there is no palliation of the wrong choice; and the man, +as utterly incapable of will,[8] is called intemperate, or [Greek: +akolastos]. + +It would be well if the reader would for himself follow out this +subject, which it would be irrelevant here to pursue farther, observing +how a certain degree of intemperance is suspected and attributed to men +with respect to higher impulses; as, for instance, in the case of anger, +or any other passion criminally indulged, and yet is not so attributed, +as in the case of sensual pleasures; because in anger the reason is +supposed not to have had time to operate, and to be itself affected by +the presence of the passion, which seizes the man involuntarily and +before he is aware; whereas, in the case of the sensual pleasures, the +act is deliberate, and determined on beforehand, in direct defiance of +reason. Nevertheless, if no precaution be taken against immoderate +anger, and the passions gain upon the man, so as to be evidently wilful +and unrestrained, and admitted contrary to all reason, we begin to look +upon him as, in the real sense of the word, intemperate, or [Greek: +akolastos], and assign to him, in consequence, his place among the +beasts, as definitely as if he had yielded to the pleasurable +temptations of touch or taste. + + +§ 5. Grounds of inferiority in the pleasures which are subjects of + intemperance. + +We see, then, that the primal ground of inferiority in these pleasures +is that which _proves_ their indulgence to be contrary to reason; namely +their destructiveness upon prolongation, and their incapability of +co-existing continually with other delights or perfections of the +system. + +And this incapability of continuance directs us to the second cause of +their inferiority; namely, that they are given to us as subservient to +life, as instruments of our preservation--compelling us to seek the +things necessary to our being, and that, therefore, when this their +function is fully performed, they ought to have an end; and can be only +artificially, and under high penalty, prolonged. But the pleasures of +sight and hearing are given as gifts. They answer not any purposes of +mere existence, for the distinction of all that is useful or dangerous +to us might be made, and often is made, by the eye, without its +receiving the slightest pleasure of sight. We might have learned to +distinguish fruits and grain from flowers, without having any superior +pleasure in the aspect of the latter. And the ear might have learned to +distinguish the sounds that communicate ideas, or to recognize +intimations of elemental danger without perceiving either music in the +voice, or majesty in the thunder. And as these pleasures have no +function to perform, so there is no limit to their continuance in the +accomplishment of their end, for they are an end in themselves, and so +may be perpetual with all of us--being in no way destructive, but rather +increasing in exquisiteness by repetition. + + +§ 6. Evidence of higher rank in pleasures of sight and hearing. + +Herein, then, we find very sufficient ground for the higher estimation +of these delights, first, in their being eternal and inexhaustible, and +secondly, in their being evidently no means or instrument of life, but +an object of life. Now in whatever is an object of life, in whatever may +be infinitely and for itself desired, we may be sure there is something +of divine, for God will not make anything an object of life to his +creatures which does not point to, or partake of, Himself. And so, +though we were to regard the pleasures of sight merely as the highest of +sensual pleasures, and though they were of rare occurrence, and, when +occurring, isolated and imperfect, there would still be a supernatural +character about them, owing to their permanence and self-sufficiency, +where no other sensual pleasures are permanent or self-sufficient. But +when, instead of being scattered, interrupted, or chance-distributed, +they are gathered together, and so arranged to enhance each other as by +chance they could not be, there is caused by them not only a feeling of +strong affection towards the object in which they exist, but a +perception of purpose and adaptation of it to our desires; a perception, +therefore, of the immediate operation of the Intelligence which so +formed us, and so feeds us. + +Out of which perception arise joy, admiration, and gratitude. + +Now the mere animal consciousness of the pleasantness I call ęsthesis; +but the exulting, reverent, and grateful perception of it I call +theoria. For this, and this only, is the full comprehension and +contemplation of the beautiful as a gift of God, a gift not necessary to +our being, but added to, and elevating it, and twofold, first of the +desire, and secondly of the thing desired. + + +§ 7. How the lower pleasures may be elevated in rank. + +And that this joyfulness and reverence are a necessary part of theoretic +pleasure is very evident when we consider that, by the presence of these +feelings, even the lower and more sensual pleasures may be rendered +theoretic. Thus Aristotle has subtly noted, that "we call not men +intemperate so much with respect to the scents of roses or herb-perfumes +as of ointments and of condiments," (though the reason that he gives for +this be futile enough.) For the fact is, that of scents artificially +prepared the extreme desire is intemperance, but of natural and +God-given scents, which take their part in the harmony and pleasantness +of creation, there can hardly be intemperance; not that there is any +absolute difference between the two kinds, but that these are likely to +be received with gratitude and joyfulness rather than those, so that we +despise the seeking of essences and unguents, but not the sowing of +violets along our garden banks. But all things may be elevated by +affection, as the spikenard of Mary, and in the Song of Solomon, the +myrrh upon the handles of the lock, and that of Isaac concerning his +son. And the general law for all these pleasures is, that when sought in +the abstract and ardently, they are foul things, but when received with +thankfulness and with reference to God's glory, they become theoretic; +and so I can find something divine in the sweetness of wild fruits, as +well as in the pleasantness of the pure air, and the tenderness of its +natural perfumes that come and go as they list. + + +§ 8. Ideas of beauty how essentially moral. + +It will be understood why I formerly said in the chapter respecting +ideas of beauty, that those ideas were the subject of moral and not of +intellectual, nor altogether of sensual perception; and why I spoke of +the pleasures connected with them as derived from "those material +sources which are agreeable to our moral nature in its purity and +perfection." For, as it is necessary to the existence of an idea of +beauty, that the sensual pleasure which may be its basis, should be +accompanied first with joy, then with love of the object, then with the +perception of kindness in a superior Intelligence, finally with +thankfulness and veneration towards that Intelligence itself, and as no +idea can be at all considered as in any way an idea of beauty, until it +be made up of these emotions, any more than we can be said to have an +idea of a letter of which we perceive the perfume and the fair writing, +without understanding the contents of it, or intent of it; and as these +emotions are in no way resultant from, nor obtainable by, any operation +of the intellect, it is evident that the sensation of beauty is not +sensual on the one hand, nor is it intellectual on the other, but is +dependent on a pure, right, and open state of the heart, both for its +truth and for its intensity, insomuch that even the right after action +of the intellect upon facts of beauty so apprehended, is dependent on +the acuteness of the heart feeling about them; and thus the Apostolic +words come true, in this minor respect as in all others, that men are +alienated from the life of God, through the ignorance that is in them, +having the understanding darkened because of the hardness of their +hearts, and so being past feeling, give themselves up to lasciviousness; +for we do indeed see constantly that men having naturally acute +perceptions of the beautiful, yet not receiving it with a pure heart, +nor into their hearts at all, never comprehend it, nor receive good from +it, but make it a mere minister to their desires, and accompaniment and +seasoning of lower sensual pleasures, until all their emotions take the +same earthly stamp, and the sense of beauty sinks into the servant of +lust. + + +§ 9. How degraded by heartless reception. + +§ 10. How exalted by affection. + +Nor is what the world commonly understands by the cultivation of taste, +anything more or better than this, at least in times of corrupt and +over-pampered civilization, when men build palaces and plant groves and +gather luxuries, that they and their devices may hang in the corners of +the world like fine-spun cobwebs, with greedy, puffed-up, spider-like +lusts in the middle. And this, which in Christian times is the abuse and +corruption of the sense of beauty, was in that Pagan life of which St. +Paul speaks, little less than the essence of it, and the best they had; +for I know not that of the expressions of affection towards external +nature to be found among Heathen writers, there are any of which the +balance and leading thought cleaves not towards the sensual parts of +her. Her beneficence they sought, and her power they shunned, her +teaching through both, they understood never. The pleasant influences of +soft winds and ringing streamlets, and shady coverts; of the violet +couch, and plane-tree shade,[9] they received, perhaps, in a more noble +way than we, but they found not anything except fear, upon the bare +mountain, or in the ghostly glen. The Hybla heather they loved more for +its sweet hives than its purple hues. But the Christian theoria seeks +not, though it accepts, and touches with its own purity, what the +Epicurean sought, but finds its food and the objects of its love +everywhere, in what is harsh and fearful, as well as what is kind, nay, +even in all that seems coarse and commonplace; seizing that which is +good, and delighting more sometimes at finding its table spread in +strange places, and in the presence of its enemies, and its honey coming +out of the rock, than if all were harmonized into a less wondrous +pleasure; hating only what is self-sighted and insolent of men's work, +despising all that is not of God, unless reminding it of God, yet able +to find evidence of him still, where all seems forgetful of him, and to +turn that into a witness of his working which was meant to obscure it, +and so with clear and unoffended sight beholding him forever, according +to the written promise,--Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall +see God. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [7] [Greek: hōs dei, kai kath' hyperbolźn kai elleipsin.] + + [8] Comp. Hooker, Eccl. Pol. Book i. chap. 8. + + [9] Plato, Phędrus, § 9. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + OF ACCURACY AND INACCURACY IN IMPRESSIONS OF SENSE. + + +§ 1. By what test is the health of the perceptive faculty to be + determined? + +Hitherto we have observed only the distinctions of dignity among +pleasures of sense, considered merely as such, and the way in which any +of them may become theoretic in being received with right feeling. + +But as we go farther, and examine the distinctive nature of ideas of +beauty, we shall, I believe, perceive something in them besides ęsthetic +pleasure, which attests a more important function belonging to them than +attaches to other sensual ideas, and exhibits a more exalted character +in the faculty by which they are received. And this was what I alluded +to, when I said in the chapter already referred to (§ 1), that "we may +indeed perceive, as far as we are acquainted with the nature of God, +that we have been so constructed as in a healthy state of mind to derive +pleasure from whatever things are illustrative of that nature." + +This point it is necessary now farther to develop. + +Our first inquiry must evidently be, how we are authorized to affirm of +any man's mind, respecting impressions of sight, that it is in a healthy +state or otherwise. What canon or test is there by which we may +determine of these impressions that they are or are not _rightly_ +esteemed beautiful? To what authority, when men are at variance with +each other on this subject, shall it be deputed to judge which is right? +or is there any such authority or canon at all? + +For it does not at first appear easy to prove that men ought to like one +thing rather than another, and although this is granted generally by +men's speaking of bad or good taste, it is frequently denied when we +pass to particulars, by the assertion of each individual that he has a +right to his opinion--a right which is sometimes claimed even in moral +matters, though then palpably without foundation, but which does not +appear altogether irrational in matters ęsthetic, wherein little +operation of voluntary choice is supposed possible. It would appear +strange, for instance, to assert, respecting a particular person who +preferred the scent of violets to roses, that he had no right to do so. +And yet, while I have said that the sensation of beauty is intuitive and +necessary, as men derive pleasure from the scent of a rose, I have +assumed that there are some sources from which it is rightly derived, +and others from which it is wrongly derived, in other words that men +have no right to think some things beautiful, and no right to remain +apathetic with regard to others. + + +§ 2. And in what sense may the terms Right and Wrong be attached to its + conclusions? + +Hence then arise two questions, according to the sense in which the word +right is taken; the first, in what way an impression of sense may be +deceptive, and therefore a conclusion respecting it untrue; and the +second, in what way an impression of sense, or the preference of one, +may be a subject of will, and therefore of moral duty or delinquency. + +To the first of these questions, I answer that we cannot speak of the +immediate impression of sense as false, nor of its preference to others +as mistaken, for no one can be deceived respecting the actual sensation +he perceives or prefers. But falsity may attach to his assertion or +supposition, either that what he himself perceives is from the same +object perceived by others, or is always to be by himself perceived, or +is always to be by himself preferred; and when we speak of a man as +wrong in his impressions of sense, we either mean that he feels +differently from all, or a majority, respecting a certain object, or +that he prefers at present those of his impressions, which ultimately he +will not prefer. + +To the second I answer, that over immediate impressions and immediate +preferences we have no power, but over ultimate impressions, and +especially ultimate preferences we have; and that, though we can neither +at once choose whether we shall see an object, red, green, or blue, nor +determine to like the red better than the blue, or the blue better than +the red, yet we can, if we choose, make ourselves ultimately susceptible +of such impressions in other degrees, and capable of pleasures in them +in different measure; and because, wherever power of any kind is given, +there is responsibility attached, it is the duty of men to prefer +certain impressions of sense to others, because they have the power of +doing so, this being precisely analogous to the law of the moral world, +whereby men are supposed not only capable of governing their likes and +dislikes, but the whole culpability or propriety of actions is dependent +upon this capability, so that men are guilty or otherwise, not for what +they do, but for what they desire, the command being not, thou shalt +obey, but thou shalt love, the Lord thy God, which, if men were not +capable of governing and directing their affections, would be the +command of an impossibility. + + +§ 3. What power we have over impressions of sense. + +I assert, therefore, that even with respect to impressions of sense, we +have a power of preference, and a corresponding duty, and I shall show +first the nature of the power, and afterwards the nature of the duty. + +Let us take an instance from one of the lowest of the senses, and +observe the kind of power we have over the impressions of lingual taste. +On the first offering of two different things to the palate, it is not +in our power to prevent or command the instinctive preference. One will +be unavoidably and helplessly preferred to the other. But if the same +two things be submitted to judgment frequently and attentively, it will +be often found that their relations change. The palate, which at first +perceived only the coarse and violent qualities of either, will, as it +becomes more experienced, acquire greater subtilty and delicacy of +discrimination, perceiving in both agreeable or disagreeable qualities +at first unnoticed, which on continued experience will probably become +more influential than the first impressions; and whatever this final +verdict may be, it is felt by the person who gives it, and received by +others as a more correct one than the first. + + +§ 4. Depends on acuteness of attention. + +So, then, the power we have over the preference of impressions of taste +is not actual nor immediate, but only a power of testing and comparing +them frequently and carefully, until that which is the more permanent, +the more consistently agreeable, be determined. But when the instrument +of taste is thus in some degree perfected and rendered subtile, by its +being practised upon a single object, its conclusions will be more rapid +with respect to others, and it will be able to distinguish more quickly +in other things, and even to prefer at once, those qualities which are +calculated finally to give it most pleasure, though more capable with +respect to those on which it is more frequently exercised; whence +people are called judges with respect to this or that particular object +of taste. + + +§ 5. Ultimate conclusions universal. + +Now that verdicts of this kind are received as authoritative by others, +proves another and more important fact, namely, that not only changes of +opinion take place in consequence of experience, but that those changes +are from variation of opinion to unity of opinion; and that whatever may +be the differences of estimate among unpractised or uncultivated tastes, +there will be unity of taste among the experienced. And that therefore +the operation of repeated trial and experience is to arrive at +principles of preference in some sort common to all, and which are a +part of our nature. + +I have selected the sense of taste for an instance, because it is the +least favorable to the position I hold, since there is more latitude +allowed, and more actual variety of verdict in the case of this sense +than of any other; and yet, however susceptible of variety even the +ultimate approximations of its preferences may be, the authority of +judges is distinctly allowed, and we hear every day the admission, by +those of unpractised palate, that they are, or may be wrong in their +opinions respecting the real pleasurableness of things either to +themselves, or to others. + + +§ 6. What duty is attached to this power over impressions of sense. + +The sense, however, in which they thus use the word "wrong" is merely +that of falseness or inaccuracy in conclusion, not of moral delinquency. +But there is, as I have stated, a duty, more or less imperative, +attached to every power we possess, and therefore to this power over the +lower senses as well as to all others. + +And this duty is evidently to bring every sense into that state of +cultivation, in which it shall both form the truest conclusions +respecting all that is submitted to it, and procure us the greatest +amount of pleasure consistent with its due relation to other senses and +functions. Which three constituents of perfection in sense, true +judgment, maximum sensibility, and right relation to others, are +invariably co-existent and involved one by the other, for the true +judgment is the result of the high sensibility, and the high sensibility +of the right relation. Thus, for instance, with respect to pleasures of +taste, it is our duty not to devote such inordinate attention to the +discrimination of them as must be inconsistent with our pursuit, and +destructive of our capacity of higher and preferable pleasures, but to +cultivate the sense of them in that way which is consistent with all +other good, by temperance, namely, and by such attention as the mind at +certain resting moments may fitly pay even to so ignoble a source of +pleasure as this, by which discipline we shall bring the faculty of +taste itself to its real maximum of sensibility; for it may not be +doubted but that health, hunger, and such general refinement of bodily +habits as shall make the body a perfect and fine instrument in all +respects, are better promoters of actual sensual enjoyment of taste, +than the sickened, sluggish, hard-stimulated fastidiousness of +Epicurism. + + +§ 7. How rewarded. + +So also it will certainly be found with all the senses, that they +individually receive the greatest and purest pleasure when they are in +right condition and degree of subordination to all the rest; and that by +the over cultivation of any one, (for morbid sources of pleasure and +correspondent temptations to irrational indulgence, confessedly are +attached to all,) we shall add more to their power as instruments of +punishment than of pleasure. + +We see then, in this example of the lowest sense, that the power we have +over sensations and preferences depends mainly on the exercise of +attention through certain prolonged periods, and that by this exercise, +we arrive at ultimate, constant, and common sources of agreeableness, +casting off those which are external, accidental, and individual. + + +§ 8. Especially with respect to ideas of beauty. + +That then which is required in order to the attainment of accurate +conclusions respecting the essence of the beautiful, is nothing more +than earnest, loving, and unselfish attention to our impressions of it, +by which those which are shallow, false, or peculiar to times and +temperaments, may be distinguished from those that are eternal. And this +dwelling upon, and fond contemplation of them, (the anschauung of the +Germans,) is perhaps as much as was meant by the Greek theoria; and it +is indeed a very noble exercise of the souls of men, and one by which +they are peculiarly distinguished from the anima of lower creatures, +which cannot, I think, be proved to have any capacity of contemplation +at all, but only a restless vividness of perception and conception, the +"fancy" of Hooker (Eccl. Pol. Book i. Chap. vi. 2). And yet this +dwelling upon them comes not up to that which I wish to express by the +word theoria, unless it be accompanied by full perception of their being +a gift from and manifestation of God, and by all those other nobler +emotions before described, since not until so felt is their essential +nature comprehended. + + +§ 9. Errors induced by the power of habit. + +But two very important points are to be observed respecting the +direction and discipline of the attention in the early stages of +judgment. The first, that, for many beneficent purposes, the nature of +man has been made reconcilable by custom to many things naturally +painful to it, and even improper for it, and that therefore, though by +continued experience, united with thought, we may discover that which is +best of several, yet if we submit ourselves to authority or fashion, and +close our eyes, we may be by custom made to tolerate, and even to love +and long for, that which is naturally painful and pernicious to us, +whence arise incalculable embarrassments on the subject of art. + + +§ 10. The necessity of submission in early stages of judgment. + +The second, that, in order to the discovery of that which is best of two +things, it is necessary that both should be equally submitted to the +attention; and therefore that we should have so much faith in authority +as shall make us repeatedly observe and attend to that which is said to +be right, even though at present we may not feel it so. And in the right +mingling of this faith with the openness of heart, which proves all +things, lies the great difficulty of the cultivation of the taste, as +far as the spirit of the scholar is concerned, though even when he has +this spirit, he may be long retarded by having evil examples submitted +to him by ignorant masters. + +The temper, therefore, by which right taste is formed, is first, +patient. It dwells upon what is submitted to it, it does not trample +upon it lest it should be pearls, even though it look like husks, it is +a good ground, soft, penetrable, retentive, it does not send up thorns +of unkind thoughts, to choke the weak seed, it is hungry and thirsty +too, and drinks all the dew that falls on it, it is an honest and good +heart, that shows no too ready springing before the sun be up, but fails +not afterwards; it is distrustful of itself, so as to be ready to +believe and to try all things, and yet so trustful of itself, that it +will neither quit what it has tried, nor take anything without trying. +And that pleasure which it has in things that it finds true and good, is +so great that it cannot possibly be led aside by any tricks of fashion, +nor diseases of vanity, it cannot be cramped in its conclusions by +partialities and hypocrisies, its visions and its delights are too +penetrating, too living, for any whitewashed object or shallow fountain +long to endure or supply. It clasps all that it loves so hard, that it +crushes it if it be hollow. + + +§ 11. The large scope of matured judgment. + +Now, the conclusions of this disposition are sure to be eventually +right, more and more right according to the general maturity of all the +powers, but it is sure to come right at last, because its operation is +in analogy to, and in harmony with, the whole spirit of the Christian +moral system, and that which it will ultimately love and rest in, are +great sources of happiness common to all the human race, and based on +the relations they hold to their Creator. + +These common and general sources of pleasure are, I believe, a certain +seal, or impress of divine work and character, upon whatever God has +wrought in all the world; only, it being necessary for the perception of +them, that their contraries should also be set before us, these divine +qualities, though inseparable from all divine works, are yet suffered to +exist in such varieties of degree, that their most limited manifestation +shall, in opposition to their most abundant, act as a foil or contrary, +just as we conceive of cold as contrary to heat, though the most extreme +cold we can produce or conceive is not inconsistent with an unknown +amount of heat in the body. + + +§ 12. How distinguishable from false taste. + +Our purity of taste, therefore, is best tested by its universality, for +if we can only admire this thing or that, we may be sure that our cause +for liking is of a finite and false nature. But if we can perceive +beauty in everything of God's doing, we may argue that we have reached +the true perception of its universal laws. Hence, false taste may be +known by its fastidiousness, by its demands of pomp, splendor, and +unusual combination, by its enjoyment only of particular styles and +modes of things, and by its pride also, for it is forever meddling, +mending, accumulating, and self-exulting, its eye is always upon itself, +and it tests all things around it by the way they fit it. But true +taste is forever growing, learning, reading, worshipping, laying its +hand upon its mouth because it is astonished, casting its shoes from off +its feet because it finds all ground holy, lamenting over itself and +testing itself by the way that it fits things. And it finds whereof to +feed, and whereby to grow, in all things, and therefore the complaint so +often made by young artists that they have not within their reach +materials, or subjects enough for their fancy, is utterly groundless, +and the sign only of their own blindness and inefficiency; for there is +that to be seen in every street and lane of every city, that to be felt +and found in every human heart and countenance, that to be loved in +every road-side weed and moss-grown wall, which in the hands of faithful +men, may convey emotions of glory and sublimity continual and exalted. + + +§ 13. The danger of a spirit of choice. + +Let therefore the young artist beware of the spirit of choice,[10] it is +an insolent spirit at the best and commonly a base and blind one too, +checking all progress and blasting all power, encouraging weaknesses, +pampering partialities, and teaching us to look to accidents of nature +for the help and the joy which should come from our own hearts. He draws +nothing well who thirsts not to draw _every_thing; when a good painter +shrinks, it is because he is humbled, not fastidious, when he stops, it +is because he is surfeited, and not because he thinks nature has given +him unkindly food, or that he fears famine.[11] I have seen a man of +true taste pause for a quarter of an hour to look at the channellings +that recent rain had traced in a heap of cinders. + + +§ 14. And criminality. + +And here is evident another reason of that duty which we owe respecting +impressions of sight, namely, to discipline ourselves to the enjoyment +of those which are eternal in their nature, not only because these are +the most acute, but because they are the most easily, constantly, and +unselfishly attainable. For had it been ordained by the Almighty that +the highest pleasures of sight should be those of most difficult +attainment, and that to arrive at them it should be necessary to +accumulate gilded palaces tower over tower, and pile artificial +mountains around insinuated lakes, there would have been a direct +contradiction between the unselfish duties and inherent desires of every +individual. But no such contradiction exists in the system of Divine +Providence, which, leaving it open to us, if we will, as creatures in +probation, to abuse this sense like every other, and pamper it with +selfish and thoughtless vanities as we pamper the palate with deadly +meats, until the appetite of tasteful cruelty is lost in its sickened +satiety, incapable of pleasure unless, Caligula like, it concentrate the +labor of a million of lives into the sensation of an hour, leaves it +also open to us, by humble and loving ways, to make ourselves +susceptible of deep delight from the meanest objects of creation, and of +a delight which shall not separate us from our fellows, nor require the +sacrifice of any duty or occupation, but which shall bind us closer to +men and to God, and be with us always, harmonized with every action, +consistent with every claim, unchanging and eternal. + + +§ 15. How certain conclusions respecting beauty are by reason + demonstrable. + +Seeing then that these qualities of material objects which are +calculated to give us this universal pleasure, are demonstrably constant +in their address to human nature, they must belong in some measure to +whatever has been esteemed beautiful throughout successive ages of the +world (and they are also by their definition common to all the works of +God). Therefore it is evident that it must be possible to reason them +out, as well as to feel them out; possible to divest every object of +that which makes it accidentally or temporarily pleasant, and to strip +it bare of distinctive qualities, until we arrive at those which it has +in common with all other beautiful things, which we may then safely +affirm to be the cause of its ultimate and true delightfulness. + + +§ 16. With what liabilities to error. + +Now this process of reasoning will be that which I shall endeavor to +employ in the succeeding investigations, a process perfectly safe, so +long as we are quite sure that we are reasoning concerning objects which +produce in us one and the same sensation, but not safe if the sensation +produced be of a different nature, though it may be equally agreeable; +for what produces a different sensation must be a different cause. And +the difficulty of reasoning respecting beauty arises chiefly from the +ambiguity of the word, which stands in different people's minds for +totally different sensations, for which there can be no common cause. + +When, for instance, Mr. Alison endeavors to support his position that +"no man is sensible to beauty in those objects with regard to which he +has not previous ideas," by the remark that "the beauty of a theory, or +of a relic of antiquity, is unintelligible to a peasant," we see at once +that it is hopeless to argue with a man who, under his general term +beauty, may, for anything we know, be sometimes speaking of mathematical +demonstrability and sometimes of historical interest; while even if we +could succeed in limiting the term to the sense of external +attractiveness, there would be still room for many phases of error; for +though the beauty of a snowy mountain and of a human cheek or forehead, +so far as both are considered as mere matter, is the same, and traceable +to certain qualities of color and line, common to both, and by reason +extricable, yet the flush of the cheek and moulding of the brow, as they +express modesty, affection, or intellect, possess sources of +agreeableness which are not common to the snowy mountain, and the +interference of whose influence we must be cautious to prevent in our +examination of those which are material and universal.[12] + + +§ 17. The term "beauty" how limitable in the outset. Divided into + typical and vital. + +The first thing, then, that we have to do, is accurately to discriminate +and define those appearances from which we are about to reason as +belonging to beauty, properly so called, and to clear the ground of all +the confused ideas and erroneous theories with which the misapprehension +or metaphorical use of the term has encumbered it. + +By the term beauty, then, properly are signified two things. First, that +external quality of bodies already so often spoken of, and which, +whether it occur in a stone, flower, beast, or in man, is absolutely +identical, which, as I have already asserted, may be shown to be in +some sort typical of the Divine attributes, and which, therefore, I +shall, for distinction's sake, call typical beauty; and, secondarily, +the appearance of felicitous fulfilment of function in living things, +more especially of the joyful and right exertion of perfect life in man. +And this kind of beauty I shall call vital beauty. + +Any application of the word beautiful to other appearances or qualities +than these, is either false or metaphorical, as, for instance, to the +splendor of a discovery, the fitness of a proportion, the coherence of a +chain of reasoning, or the power of bestowing pleasure which objects +receive from association, a power confessedly great, and interfering, as +we shall presently find, in a most embarrassing way with the +attractiveness of inherent beauty. + +But in order that the mind of the reader may not be biassed at the +outset by that which he may happen to have received of current theories +respecting beauty, founded on the above metaphorical uses of the word, +(theories which are less to be reprobated as accounting falsely for the +sensations of which they treat, than as confusing two or more +pleasurable sensations together,) I shall briefly glance at the four +erroneous positions most frequently held upon this subject, before +proceeding to examine those typical and vital properties of things, to +which I conceive that all our original conceptions of beauty may be +traced. + + +FOOTNOTES + + + [10] "Nothing comes amiss,-- + A good digestion turneth all to health."--G. HERBERT. + + [11] Yet note the difference between the choice that comes of pride, + and the choice that comes of love, and compare Chap. xv. § 6. + + [12] Compare Spenser. (Hymn to Beauty.) + + "But ah, believe me, there is more than so, + That works such wonders in the minds of men." + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + OF FALSE OPINIONS HELD CONCERNING BEAUTY. + + +§ 1. Of the false opinion that truth is beauty, and vice versa. + +I purpose at present to speak only of four of the more current opinions +respecting beauty, for of the errors connected with the pleasurableness +of proportion, and of the expression of right feelings in the +countenance, I shall have opportunity to treat in the succeeding +chapters; (compare Ch. VI. Ch. XVI.) + +Those erring or inconsistent positions which I would at once dismiss +are, the first, that the beautiful is the true, the second, that the +beautiful is the useful, the third, that it is dependent on custom, and +the fourth, that it is dependent on the association of ideas. + +To assert that the beautiful is the true, appears, at first, like +asserting that propositions are matter, and matter propositions. But +giving the best and most rational interpretation we can, and supposing +the holders of this strange position to mean only that things are +beautiful which appear what they indeed are, and ugly which appear what +they are not, we find them instantly contradicted by each and every +conclusion of experience. A stone looks as truly a stone as a rose looks +a rose, and yet is not so beautiful; a cloud may look more like a castle +than a cloud, and be the more beautiful on that account. The mirage of +the desert is fairer than its sands; the false image of the under heaven +fairer than the sea. I am at a loss to know how any so untenable a +position could ever have been advanced; but it may, perhaps, have arisen +from some confusion of the beauty of art with the beauty of nature, and +from an illogical expansion of the very certain truth, that nothing is +beautiful in art, which, professing to be an imitation, or a statement, +is not as such in some sort true. + + +§ 2. Of the false opinion that beauty is usefulness. Compare Chap. xii. + § 5. + +That the beautiful is the useful, is an assertion evidently based on +that limited and false sense of the latter term which I have already +deprecated. As it is the most degrading and dangerous supposition which +can be advanced on the subject, so, fortunately, it is the most +palpably absurd. It is to confound admiration with hunger, love with +lust, and life with sensation; it is to assert that the human creature +has no ideas and no feelings, except those ultimately referable to its +brutal appetites. It has not a single fact nor appearance of fact to +support it, and needs no combating, at least until its advocates have +obtained the consent of the majority of mankind, that the most beautiful +productions of nature are seeds and roots; and of art, spades and +millstones. + + +§ 3. Of the false opinion that beauty results from custom. Compare Chap. + vi. § 1. + +Somewhat more rational grounds appear for the assertion that the sense +of the beautiful arises from familiarity with the object, though even +this could not long be maintained by a thinking person. For all that can +be alleged in defence of such a supposition is, that familiarity +deprives some objects which at first appeared ugly, of much of their +repulsiveness, whence it is as rational to conclude that familiarity is +the cause of beauty, as it would be to argue that because it is possible +to acquire a taste for olives, therefore custom is the cause of +lusciousness in grapes. Nevertheless, there are some phenomena resulting +from the tendency of our nature to be influenced by habit of which it +may be well to observe the limits. + + +§ 4. The twofold operation of custom. It deadens sensation, but confirms + affection. + +§ 5. But never either creates or destroys the essence of beauty. + +Custom has a twofold operation: the one to deaden the frequency and +force of repeated impressions, the other to endear the familiar object +to the affections. Commonly, where the mind is vigorous, and the power +of sensation very perfect, it has rather the last operation than the +first; with meaner minds, the first takes place in the higher degree, so +that they are commonly characterized by a desire of excitement, and the +want of the loving, fixed, theoretic power. But both take place in some +degree with all men, so that as life advances, impressions of all kinds +become less rapturous owing to their repetition. It is however +beneficently ordained that repulsiveness shall be diminished by custom +in a far greater degree than the sensation of beauty, so that the +anatomist in a little time loses all sense of horror in the torn flesh, +and carous bone, while the sculptor ceases not to feel to the close of +his life, the deliciousness of every line of the outward frame. So then +as in that with which we are made familiar, the repulsiveness is +constantly diminishing, and such claims as it may be able to put forth +on the affections are daily becoming stronger, while in what is +submitted to us of new or strange, that which may be repulsive is felt +in its full force, while no hold is as yet laid on the affections, there +is a very strong preference induced in most minds for that to which they +are not accustomed over that they know not, and this is strongest in +those which are least open to sensations of positive beauty. But however +far this operation may be carried, its utmost effect is but the +deadening and approximating the sensations of beauty and ugliness. It +never mixes nor crosses, nor in any way alters them; it has not the +slightest connection with nor power over their nature. By tasting two +wines alternately, we may deaden our perception of their flavor; nay, we +may even do more than can ever be done in the case of sight, we may +confound the two flavors together. But it will hardly be argued +therefore that custom is the cause of either flavor. And so, though by +habit we may deaden the effect of ugliness or beauty, it is not for that +reason to be affirmed that habit is the cause of either sensation. We +may keep a skull beside us as long as we please, we may overcome its +repulsiveness, we may render ourselves capable of perceiving many +qualities of beauty about its lines, we may contemplate it for years +together if we will, it and nothing else, but we shall not get ourselves +to think as well of it as of a child's fair face. + + +§ 6. Instances. + +It would be easy to pursue the subject farther, but I believe that every +thoughtful reader will be perfectly well able to supply farther +illustrations, and sweep away the sandy foundations of the opposite +theory, unassisted. Let it, however, be observed, that in spite of all +custom, an Englishman instantly acknowledges, and at first sight, the +superiority of the turban to the hat, or of the plaid to the coat, that +whatever the dictates of immediate fashion may compel, the superior +gracefulness of the Greek or middle age costumes is invariably felt, and +that, respecting what has been asserted of negro nations looking with +disgust on the white face, no importance whatever is to be attached to +the opinions of races who have never received any ideas of beauty +whatsoever, (these ideas being only received by minds under some +certain degree of cultivation,) and whose disgust arises naturally from +what they may suppose to be a sign of weakness or ill health. It would +be futile to proceed into farther detail. I pass to the last and most +weighty theory, that the agreeableness in objects which we call beauty +is the result of the association with them of agreeable or interesting +ideas. + + +§ 7. Of the false opinion that beauty depends on the association of + ideas. + +Frequent has been the support, and wide the acceptance of this +supposition, and yet I suppose that no two consecutive sentences were +ever written in defence of it, without involving either a contradiction +or a confusion of terms. Thus Alison, "There are scenes undoubtedly more +beautiful than Runnymede, yet to those who recollect the great event +that passed there, there is no scene perhaps which so strongly seizes on +the imagination." Here we are wonder-struck at the audacious obtuseness +which would prove the power of imagination by its overcoming that very +other power (of inherent beauty) whose existence the arguer denies. For +the only logical conclusion which can possibly be drawn from the above +sentence is, that imagination is _not_ the source of beauty, for +although no scene seizes so strongly on the imagination, yet there are +scenes "more beautiful than Runnymede." And though instances of +self-contradiction as laconic and complete as this are to be found in +few writers except Alison, yet if the arguments on the subject be fairly +sifted from the mass of confused language with which they are always +encumbered and placed in logical form, they will be found invariably to +involve one of these two syllogisms, either, association gives pleasure, +and beauty gives pleasure, therefore association is beauty. Or, the +power of association is stronger than the power of beauty, therefore the +power of association _is_ the power of beauty. + + +§ 8. Association. Is, 1st, rational. It is of no efficiency as a cause + of beauty. + +Nevertheless it is necessary for us to observe the real value and +authority of association in the moral system, and how ideas of actual +beauty may be affected by it, otherwise we shall be liable to +embarrassment throughout the whole of the succeeding argument. + +Association is of two kinds. Rational and accidental. By rational +association I understand the interest which any object may bear +historically as having been in some way connected with the affairs or +affections of men; an interest shared in the minds of all who are aware +of such connection: which to call beauty is mere and gross confusion of +terms, it is no theory to be confuted, but a misuse of language to be +set aside, a misuse involving the positions that in uninhabited +countries the vegetation has no grace, the rock no dignity, the cloud no +color, and that the snowy summits of the Alps receive no loveliness from +the sunset light, because they have not been polluted by the wrath, +ravage, and misery of men. + + +§ 9. Association accidental. The extent of its influence. + +By accidental association, I understand the accidental connection of +ideas and memories with material things, owing to which those material +things are regarded as agreeable or otherwise, according to the nature +of the feelings or recollections they summon; the association being +commonly involuntary and oftentimes so vague as that no distinct image +is suggested by the object, but we feel a painfulness in it or pleasure +from it, without knowing wherefore. Of this operation of the mind (which +is that of which I spoke as causing inextricable embarrassments on the +subject of beauty) the experience is constant, so that its more +energetic manifestations require no illustration. But I do not think +that the minor degrees and shades of this great influence have been +sufficiently appreciated. Not only all vivid emotions and all +circumstances of exciting interest leave their light and shadow on the +senseless things and instruments among which or through whose agency +they have been felt or learned, but I believe that the eye cannot rest +on a material form, in a moment of depression or exultation, without +communicating to that form a spirit and a life, a life which will make +it afterwards in some degree loved or feared, a charm or a painfulness +for which we shall be unable to account even to ourselves, which will +not indeed be perceptible, except by its delicate influence on our +judgment in cases of complicated beauty. Let the eye but rest on a rough +piece of branch of curious form during a conversation with a friend, +rest, however, unconsciously, and though the conversation be forgotten, +though every circumstance connected with it be as utterly lost to the +memory as though it had not been, yet the eye will, through the whole +life after, take a certain pleasure in such boughs which it had not +before, a pleasure so slight, a trace of feeling so delicate as to +leave us utterly unconscious of its peculiar power, but undestroyable by +any reasoning, a part, thenceforward, of our constitution, destroyable +only by the same arbitrary process of association by which it was +created. Reason has no effect upon it whatsoever. And there is probably +no one opinion which is formed by any of us, in matters of taste, which +is not in some degree influenced by unconscious association of this +kind. In many who have no definite rules of judgment, preference is +decided by little else, and thus, unfortunately, its operations are +mistaken for, or rather substituted for, those of inherent beauty, and +its real position and value in the moral system is in a great measure +overlooked. + + +§ 10. The dignity of its function. + +For I believe that mere pleasure and pain have less associative power +than duty performed or omitted, and that the great use of the +associative faculty is not to add beauty to material things, but to add +force to the conscience. But for this external and all-powerful witness, +the voice of the inward guide might be lost in each particular instance, +almost as soon as disobeyed; the echo of it in after time, whereby, +though perhaps feeble as warning, it becomes powerful as punishment, +might be silenced, and the strength of the protection pass away in the +lightness of the lash. Therefore it has received the power of enlisting +external and unmeaning things in its aid, and transmitting to all that +is indifferent, its own authority to reprove or reward, so that, as we +travel the way of life, we have the choice, according to our working, of +turning all the voices of nature into one song of rejoicing, and all her +lifeless creatures into a glad company, whereof the meanest shall be +beautiful in our eyes, by its kind message, or of withering and +quenching her sympathy into a fearful, withdrawn, silence of +condemnation, or into a crying out of her stones, and a shaking of her +dust against us. Nor is it any marvel that the theoretic faculty should +be overpowered by this momentous operation, and the indifferent appeals +and inherent glories of external things in the end overlooked, when the +perfection of God's works is felt only as the sweetness of his promises, +and their admirableness only as the threatenings of his power. + + +§ 11. How it is connected with impressions of beauty. + +But it is evident that the full exercise of this noble function of the +associative faculty is inconsistent with absolute and incontrovertible +conclusions on subjects of theoretic preference. For it is quite +impossible for any individual to distinguish in himself the unconscious +underworking of indefinite association, peculiar to him individually, +from those great laws of choice under which he is comprehended with all +his race. And it is well for us that it is so, the harmony of God's good +work is not in us interrupted by this mingling of universal and peculiar +principles; for by these such difference is secured in the feelings as +shall make fellowship itself more delightful, by its inter-communicate +character, and such variety of feeling also in each of us separately as +shall make us capable of enjoying scenes of different kinds and orders, +instead of morbidly seeking for some perfect epitome of the beautiful in +one; and also that deadening by custom of theoretic impressions to which +I have above alluded, is counterbalanced by the pleasantness of acquired +association; and the loss of the intense feeling of the youth, which +"had no need of a remoter charm, by thought supplied, or any interest, +unborrowed from the eye," is replaced by the gladness of conscience, and +the vigor of the reflecting and imaginative faculties, as they take +their wide and aged grasp of the great relations between the earth and +its dead people. + + +§ 12. And what caution it renders necessary in the examination of them. + +In proportion therefore to the value, constancy, and efficiency of this +influence, we must be modest and cautious in the pronouncing of positive +opinions on the subject of beauty. For every one of us has peculiar +sources of enjoyment necessarily opened to him in certain scenes and +things, sources which are sealed to others, and we must be wary on the +one hand, of confounding these in ourselves with ultimate conclusions of +taste, and so forcing them upon all as authoritative, and on the other +of supposing that the enjoyments of others which we cannot share are +shallow or unwarrantable, because incommunicable. I fear, for instance, +that in the former portion of this work I may have attributed too much +community and authority to certain affections of my own for scenery +inducing emotions of wild, impetuous, and enthusiastic characters, and +too little to those which I perceive in others for things peaceful, +humble, meditative, and solemn. So also between youth and age there will +be found differences of seeking, which are not wrong, nor of false +choice in either, but of different temperament, the youth sympathizing +more with the gladness, fulness, and magnificence of things, and the +gray hairs with their completion, sufficiency and repose. And so, +neither condemning the delights of others, nor altogether distrustful of +our own, we must advance, as we live on, from what is brilliant to what +is pure, and from what is promised to what is fulfilled, and from what +is our strength to what is our crown, only observing in all things how +that which is indeed wrong, and to be cut up from the root, is dislike, +and not affection. For by the very nature of these beautiful qualities, +which I have defined to be the signature of God upon his works, it is +evident that in whatever we altogether dislike, we see not all; that the +keenness of our vision is to be tested by the expansiveness of our love, +and that as far as the influence of association has voice in the +question, though it is indeed possible that the inevitable painfulness +of an object, for which we can render no sufficient reason, may be owing +to its recalling of a sorrow, it is more probably dependent on its +accusation of a crime. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + OF TYPICAL BEAUTY:--FIRST, OF INFINITY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE + INCOMPREHENSIBILITY. + + +§ 1. Impossibility of adequately treating the subject. + +The subject being now in some measure cleared of embarrassment, let us +briefly distinguish those qualities or types on whose combination is +dependent the power of mere material loveliness. I pretend neither to +enumerate nor perceive them all, for it may be generally observed that +whatever good there may be, desirable by man, more especially good +belonging to his moral nature, there will be a corresponding +agreeableness in whatever external object reminds him of such good, +whether it remind him by arbitrary association or by typical +resemblance, and that the infinite ways, whether by reason or experience +discoverable, by which matter in some sort may remind us of moral +perfections, are hardly within any reasonable limits to be explained, if +even by any single mind they might all be traced. Yet certain palpable +and powerful modes there are, by observing which, we may come at such +general conclusions on the subject as may be practically useful, and +more than these I shall not attempt to obtain. + + +§ 2. With what simplicity of feeling to be approached. + +And first, I would ask of the reader to enter upon the subject with me, +as far as may be, as a little child, ridding himself of all conventional +and authoritative thoughts, and especially of such associations as arise +from his respect for Pagan art, or which are in any way traceable to +classical readings. I recollect that Mr. Alison traces his first +perceptions of beauty in external nature to this most corrupt source, +thus betraying so total and singular a want of natural sensibility as +may well excuse the deficiencies of his following arguments. For there +was never yet the child of any promise (so far as the theoretic +faculties are concerned) but awaked to the sense of beauty with the +first gleam of reason; and I suppose there are few, among those who love +nature otherwise than by profession and at second-hand, who look not +back to their youngest and least-learned days as those of the most +intense, superstitious, insatiable, and beatific perception of her +splendors. And the bitter decline of this glorious feeling, though many +note it not, partly owing to the cares and weight of manhood, which +leave them not the time nor the liberty to look for their lost treasure, +and partly to the human and divine affections which are appointed to +take its place, yet has formed the subject not indeed of lamentation, +but of holy thankfulness for the witness it bears to the immortal origin +and end of our nature, to one whose authority is almost without appeal +in all questions relating to the influence of external things upon the +pure human soul. + + "Heaven lies about us in our infancy,-- + Shades of the prison-house begin to close + Upon the growing boy. + But he beholds the light, and whence it flows + He sees it in his joy. + The youth, who daily farther from the east + Must travel, still is nature's priest, + And by the vision splendid + Is on his way attended. + At length the Man perceives it die away + And fade into the light of common day." + +And if it were possible for us to recollect all the unaccountable and +happy instincts of the careless time, and to reason upon them with the +maturer judgment, we might arrive at more rapid and right results than +either the philosophy or the sophisticated practice of art have yet +attained. But we lose the perceptions before we are capable of +methodizing or comparing them. + + +§ 3. The child instinct respecting space. + +§ 4. Continued in after life. + +One, however, of these child instincts, I believe that few forget; the +emotion, namely, caused by all open ground, or lines of any spacious +kind against the sky, behind which there might be conceived the sea. It +is an emotion more pure than that caused by the sea itself, for I +recollect distinctly running down behind the banks of a high beach to +get their land line cutting against the sky, and receiving a more +strange delight from this than from the sight of the ocean: I am not +sure that this feeling is common to all children, (or would be common if +they were all in circumstances admitting it), but I have ascertained it +to be frequent among those who possess the most vivid sensibilities for +nature; and I am certain that the modification of it, which belongs to +our after years, is common to all, the love, namely, of a light +distance appearing over a comparatively dark horizon. This I have tested +too frequently to be mistaken, by offering to indifferent spectators +forms of equal abstract beauty in half tint, relieved, the one against +dark sky, the other against a bright distance. The preference is +invariably given to the latter, and it is very certain that this +preference arises not from any supposition of there being greater truth +in this than the other, for the same preference is unhesitatingly +accorded to the same effect in nature herself. Whatever beauty there may +result from effects of light on foreground objects, from the dew of the +grass, the flash of the cascade, the glitter of the birch trunk, or the +fair daylight hues of darker things, (and joyfulness there is in all of +them), there is yet a light which the eye invariably seeks with a deeper +feeling of the beautiful, the light of the declining or breaking day, +and the flakes of scarlet cloud burning like watch-fires in the green +sky of the horizon; a deeper feeling, I say, not perhaps more acute, but +having more of spiritual hope and longing, less of animal and present +life, more manifest, invariably, in those of more serious and determined +mind, (I use the word serious, not as being opposed to cheerful, but to +trivial and volatile;) but, I think, marked and unfailing even in those +of the least thoughtful dispositions. I am willing to let it rest on the +determination of every reader, whether the pleasure which he has +received from these effects of calm and luminous distance be not the +most singular and memorable of which he has been conscious, whether all +that is dazzling in color, perfect in form, gladdening in expression, be +not of evanescent and shallow appealing, when compared with the still +small voice of the level twilight behind purple hills, or the scarlet +arch of dawn over the dark, troublous-edged sea. + + +§ 5. Whereto this instinct is traceable. + +Let us try to discover that which effects of this kind possess or +suggest, peculiar to themselves, and which other effects of light and +color possess not. There _must_ be something in them of a peculiar +character, and that, whatever it be, must be one of the primal and most +earnest motives of beauty to human sensation. + +Do they show finer characters of form than can be developed by the +broader daylight? Not so; for their power is almost independent of the +forms they assume or display; it matters little whether the bright +clouds be simple or manifold, whether the mountain line be subdued or +majestic, the fairer forms of earthly things are by them subdued and +disguised, the round and muscular growth of the forest trunks is sunk +into skeleton lines of quiet shade, the purple clefts of the hill-side +are labyrinthed in the darkness, the orbed spring and whirling wave of +the torrent have given place to a white, ghastly, interrupted gleaming. +Have they more perfection or fulness of color? Not so; for their effect +is oftentimes deeper when their hues are dim, than when they are +blazoned with crimson and pale gold; and assuredly, in the blue of the +rainy sky, in the many tints of morning flowers, in the sunlight on +summer foliage and field, there are more sources of mere sensual +color-pleasure than in the single streak of wan and dying light. It is +not then by nobler form, it is not by positiveness of hue, it is not by +intensity of light, (for the sun itself at noonday is effectless upon +the feelings,) that this strange distant space possesses its attractive +power. But there is one thing that it has, or suggests, which no other +object of sight suggests in equal degree, and that is,--Infinity. It is +of all visible things the least material, the least finite, the farthest +withdrawn from the earth prison-house, the most typical of the nature of +God, the most suggestive of the glory of his dwelling-place. For the sky +of night, though we may know it boundless, is dark, it is a studded +vault, a roof that seems to shut us in and down, but the bright distance +has no limit, we feel its infinity, as we rejoice in its purity of +light. + + +§ 6. Infinity how necessary in art. + +Now not only is this expression of infinity in distance most precious +wherever we find it, however solitary it may be, and however unassisted +by other forms and kinds of beauty, but it is of that value that no such +other forms will altogether recompense us for its loss; and much as I +dread the enunciation of anything that may seem like a conventional +rule, I have no hesitation in asserting, that no work of any art, in +which this expression of infinity is possible, can be perfect, or +supremely elevated without it, and that in proportion to its presence, +it will exalt and render impressive even the most tame and trivial +themes. And I think if there be any one grand division, by which it is +at all possible to set the productions of painting, so far as their +mere plan or system is concerned, on our right and left hands, it is +this of light and dark background, of heaven light or of object light. +For I know not any truly great painter of any time, who manifests not +the most intense pleasure in the luminous space of his backgrounds, or +who ever sacrifices this pleasure where the nature of his subject admits +of its attainment, as on the other hand I know not that the habitual use +of dark backgrounds can be shown as having ever been co-existent with +pure or high feeling, and, except in the case of Rembrandt, (and then +under peculiar circumstances only,) with any high power of intellect. It +is however necessary carefully to observe the following modifications of +this broad principle. + + +§ 7. Conditions of its necessity. + +The absolute necessity, for such indeed I consider it, is of no more +than such a mere luminous distant point as may give to the feelings a +species of escape from all the finite objects about them. There is a +spectral etching of Rembrandt, a presentation of Christ in the temple, +where the figure of a robed priest stands glaring by its gems out of the +gloom, holding a crosier. Behind it there is a subdued window light seen +in the opening between two columns, without which the impressiveness of +the whole subject would, I think, be incalculably brought down. I cannot +tell whether I am at present allowing too much weight to my own fancies +and predilections, but without so much escape into the outer air and +open heaven as this, I can take permanent pleasure in no picture. + + +§ 8. And connected analogies. + +And I think I am supported in this feeling by the unanimous practice, if +not the confessed opinion, of all artists. The painter of portrait is +unhappy without his conventional white stroke under the sleeve, or +beside the arm-chair; the painter of interiors feels like a caged bird, +unless he can throw a window open, or set the door ajar; the landscapist +dares not lose himself in forest without a gleam of light under its +farthest branches, nor ventures out in rain, unless he may somewhere +pierce to a better promise in the distance, or cling to some closing gap +of variable blue above;--escape, hope, infinity, by whatever +conventionalism sought, the desire is the same in all, the instinct +constant, it is no mere point of light that is wanted in the etching of +Rembrandt above instanced, a gleam of armor or fold of temple curtain +would have been utterly valueless, neither is it liberty, for though we +cut down hedges and level hills, and give what waste and plain we +choose, on the right hand and the left, it is all comfortless and +undesired, so long as we cleave not a way of escape forward; and however +narrow and thorny and difficult the nearer path, it matters not, so only +that the clouds open for us at its close. Neither will any amount of +beauty in nearer form, make us content to stay with it, so long as we +are shut down to that alone, nor is any form so cold or so hurtful but +that we may look upon it with kindness, so only that it rise against the +infinite hope of light beyond. The reader can follow out the analogies +of this unassisted. + + +§ 9. How the dignity of treatment is proportioned to the expression of + infinity. + +But although this narrow portal of escape be all that is absolutely +necessary, I think that the dignity of the painting increases with the +extent and amount of the expression. With the earlier and mightier +painters of Italy, the practice is commonly to leave their distance of +pure and open sky, of such simplicity, that it in nowise shall interfere +with or draw the attention from the interest of the figures, and of such +purity, that especially towards the horizon, it shall be in the highest +degree expressive of the infinite space of heaven. I do not mean to say +that they did this with any occult or metaphysical motives. They did it, +I think, with the child-like, unpretending simplicity of all earnest +men; they did what they loved and felt; they sought what the heart +naturally seeks, and gave what it most gratefully receives; and I look +to them as in all points of principle (not, observe, of knowledge or +empirical attainment) as the most irrefragable authorities, precisely on +account of the child-like innocence, which never deemed itself +authoritative, but acted upon desire, and not upon dicta, and sought for +sympathy, not for admiration. + + +§ 10. Examples among the Southern schools. + +And so we find the same simple and sweet treatment, the open sky, the +tender, unpretending, horizontal white clouds, the far winding and +abundant landscape, in Giotto, Taddeo Gaddi, Laurati, Angelico, Benozzo, +Ghirlandajo, Francia, Perogino, and the young Raffaelle, the first +symptom of conventionality appearing in Perugino, who, though with +intense feeling of light and color he carried the glory of his luminous +distance far beyond all his predecessors, began at the same time to use +a somewhat morbid relief of his figures against the upper sky. Thus in +the Assumption of the Florentine Academy, in that of l'Annunziata; and +of the Gallery of Bologna, in all which pictures the lower portions are +incomparably the finest, owing to the light distance behind the heads. +Raffaelle, in his fall, betrayed the faith he had received from his +father and his master, and substituted for the radiant sky of the +Madonna del Cardellino, the chamber-wall of the Madonna della +Sediola--and the brown wainscot of the Baldacchino. Yet it is curious to +observe how much of the dignity even of his later pictures, depends on +such portions as the green light of the lake, and sky behind the rocks, +in the St. John of the tribune, and how the repainted distortion of the +Madonna dell' Impannata, is redeemed into something like elevated +character, merely by the light of the linen window from which it takes +its name. + + +§ 11. Among the Venetians. + +That which by the Florentines was done in pure simplicity of heart, was +done by the Venetians with intense love of the color and splendor of the +sky itself, even to the frequent sacrificing of their subject to the +passion of its distance. In Carpaccio, John Bellini, Giorgione, Titian, +Veronese, and Tintoret, the preciousness of the luminous sky, so far as +it might be at all consistent with their subject, is nearly constant; +abandoned altogether in portraiture only, seldom even there, and never +with advantage. Titian and Veronese, who had less exalted feeling than +the others, affording a few instances of exception, the latter +overpowering his silvery distances with foreground splendor, the other +sometimes sacrificing them to a luscious fulness of color, as in the +Flagellation in the Louvre, by a comparison of which with the unequalled +majesty of the Entombment opposite, the whole power and applicability of +the general principle may at once be tested. + + +§ 12. Among the painters of landscape. + +But of the value of this mode of treatment there is a farther and more +convincing proof than its adoption either by the innocence of the +Florentine or the ardor of the Venetian, namely, that when retained or +imitated from them by the landscape painters of the seventeenth +century, when appearing in isolation from all other good, among the +weaknesses and paltrinesses of Claude, the mannerisms of Gaspar, and the +caricatures and brutalities of Salvator, it yet redeems and upholds all +three, conquers all foulness by its purity, vindicates all folly by its +dignity, and puts an uncomprehended power of permanent address to the +human heart, upon the lips of the senseless and the profane.[13] + + +§ 13. Other modes in which the power of infinity is felt. + +§ 14. The beauty of curvature. + +Now, although I doubt not that the general value of this treatment will +be acknowledged by all lovers of art, it is not certain that the point +to prove which I have brought it forward, will be as readily conceded, +namely, the inherent power of all representations of infinity over the +human heart; for there are, indeed, countless associations of pure and +religious kind, which combine with each other to enhance the impression, +when presented in this particular form, whose power I neither deny nor +am careful to distinguish, seeing that they all tend to the same Divine +point, and have reference to heavenly hopes; delights they are in seeing +the narrow, black, miserable earth fairly compared with the bright +firmament, reachings forward unto the things that are before, and +joyfulness in the apparent though unreachable nearness and promise of +them. But there are other modes in which infinity may be represented, +which are confused by no associations of the kind, and which would, as +being in mere matter, appear trivial and mean, but for their +incalculable influence on the forms of all that we feel to be beautiful. +The first of these is the curvature of lines and surfaces, wherein it at +first appears futile to insist upon any resemblance or suggestion of +infinity, since there is certainly in our ordinary contemplation of it, +no sensation of the kind. But I have repeated again and again that the +ideas of beauty are instinctive, and that it is only upon consideration, +and even then in doubtful and disputable way, that they appear in their +typical character; neither do I intend at all to insist upon the +particular meaning which they appear to myself to bear, but merely on +their actual and demonstrable agreeableness, so that, in the present +case, while I assert positively, and have no fear of being able to +prove, that a curve of any kind is more beautiful than a right line, I +leave it to the reader to accept or not, as he pleases, that reason of +its agreeableness, which is the only one that I can at all trace, +namely, that every curve divides itself infinitely by its changes of +direction. + + +§ 15. How constant in external nature. + +That all forms of acknowledged beauty are composed exclusively of curves +will, I believe, be at once allowed; but that which there will be need +more especially to prove, is the subtilty and constancy of curvature in +all natural forms whatsoever. I believe that, except in crystals, in +certain mountain forms admitted for the sake of sublimity or contrast, +(as in the slope of debris,) in rays of light, in the levels of calm +water and alluvial land, and in some few organic developments, there are +no lines nor surfaces of nature without curvature, though as we before +saw in clouds, more especially in their under lines towards the horizon, +and in vast and extended plains, right lines are often suggested which +are not actual. Without these we could not be sensible of the value of +the contrasting curves, and while, therefore, for the most part, the eye +is fed in natural forms with a grace of curvature which no hand nor +instrument can follow, other means are provided to give beauty to those +surfaces which are admitted for contrast, as in water by its reflection +of the gradations which it possesses not itself. In freshly-broken +ground, which nature has not yet had time to model, in quarries and +pits which are none of her cutting, in those convulsions and evidences +of convulsion, of whose influence on ideal landscape I shall presently +have occasion to speak, and generally in all ruin and disease, and +interference of one order of being with another, (as in the cattle line +of park trees,) the curves vanish, and violently opposed or broken and +unmeaning lines take their place. + + +§ 16. The beauty of gradation. + +What curvature is to lines, gradation is to shades and colors. It is +_there_ infinity, and divides them into an infinite number of degrees. +Absolutely, without gradation no natural surface can possibly be, except +under circumstances of so rare conjunction as to amount to a lusus +naturę; for we have seen that few surfaces are without curvature, and +every curved surface must be gradated by the nature of light, which is +most intense when it impinges at the highest angle, and for the +gradation of the few plane surfaces that exist, means are provided in +local color, aerial perspective, reflected lights, etc., from which it +is but barely conceivable that they should ever escape. Hence for +instances of the complete absence of gradation we must look to man's +work, or to his disease and decrepitude. Compare the gradated colors of +the rainbow with the stripes of a target, and the gradual concentration +of the youthful blood in the cheek with an abrupt patch of rouge, or +with the sharply drawn veining of old age. + + +§ 17. How found in Nature. + +Gradation is so inseparable a quality of all natural shade and color +that the eye refuses in art to understand anything as either, which +appears without it, while on the other hand nearly all the gradations of +nature are so subtile and between degrees of tint so slightly separated, +that no human hand can in any wise equal, or do anything more than +suggest the idea of them. In proportion to the space over which +gradation extends, and to its invisible subtilty, is its grandeur, and +in proportion to its narrow limits and violent degrees, its vulgarity. +In Correggio, it is morbid and vulgar in spite of its refinement of +execution, because the eye is drawn to it, and it is made the most +observable and characteristic part of the picture; whereas natural +gradation is forever escaping observation to that degree that the +greater part of artists in working from nature see it not, (except in +certain of its marked developments,) but either lay down such +continuous lines and colors, as are both disagreeable and impossible, +or, receiving the necessity of gradation as a principle instead of a +fact, use it in violently exaggerated measure, and so lose both the +dignity of their own work, and by the constant dwelling of their eyes +upon exaggerations, their sensibility to that of the natural forms. So +that we find the majority of painters divided between the two evil +extremes of insufficiency and affectation, and only a few of the +greatest men capable of making gradation constant and yet extended over +enormous spaces and within degrees of narrow difference, as in the body +of a high light. + + +§ 18. How necessary in Art. + +From the necessity of gradation results what is commonly given as a rule +of art, though its authority as a rule obtains only from its being a +fact of nature, that the extremes of high light and pure color, can +exist only in points. The common rules respecting sixths and eighths, +held concerning light and shade, are entirely absurd and conventional; +according to the subject and the effect of light, the greater part of +the picture will be or ought to be light or dark; but that principle +which is not conventional, is that of all light, however high, there is +some part that is higher than the rest, and that of all color, however +pure, there is some part that is purer than the rest, and that generally +of all shade, however deep, there is some part deeper than the rest, +though this last fact is frequently sacrificed in art, owing to the +narrowness of its means. But on the right gradation or focussing of +light and color depends in great measure, the value of both. Of this, I +have spoken sufficiently in pointing out the singular constancy of it in +the works of Turner. Part II. Sect. II. Chap. II. § 17. And it is +generally to be observed that even raw and valueless color, if rightly +and subtilely gradated will in some measure stand for light, and that +the most transparent and perfect hue will be in some measure +unsatisfactory, if entirely unvaried. I believe the early skies of +Raffaelle owe their luminousness more to their untraceable and subtile +gradation than to inherent quality of hue. + + +§ 19. Infinity not rightly implied by vastness. + +Such are the expressions of infinity which we find in creation, of which +the importance is to be estimated, rather by their frequency than their +distinctness. Let, however, the reader bear constantly in mind that I +insist not on his accepting any interpretation of mine, but only on his +dwelling so long on those objects, which he perceives to be beautiful, +as to determine whether the qualities to which I trace their beauty, be +necessarily there or no. Farther expressions of infinity there are in +the mystery of nature, and in some measure in her vastness, but these +are dependent on our own imperfections, and therefore, though they +produce sublimity, they are unconnected with beauty. For that which we +foolishly call vastness is, rightly considered, not more wonderful, not +more impressive, than that which we insolently call littleness, and the +infinity of God is not mysterious, it is only unfathomable, not +concealed, but incomprehensible: it is a clear infinity, the darkness of +the pure unsearchable sea. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [13] In one of the smaller rooms of the Pitti palace, over the door, + is a temptation of St. Anthony, by Salvator, wherein such power as + the artist possessed is fully manifested, with little, + comparatively, that is offensive. It is a vigorous and ghastly + thought, in that kind of horror which is dependent on scenic effect, + perhaps unrivalled, and I shall have occasion to refer to it again + in speaking of the powers of imagination. I allude to it here, + because the sky of the distance affords a remarkable instance of the + power of light at present under discussion. It is formed of flakes + of black cloud, with rents and openings of intense and lurid green, + and at least half of the impressiveness of the picture depends on + these openings. Close them, make the sky one mass of gloom, and the + spectre will be awful no longer. It owes to the light of the + distance both its size and its spirituality. The time would fail me + if I were to name the tenth part of the pictures which occur to me, + whose vulgarity is redeemed by this circumstance alone, and yet let + not the artist trust to such morbid and conventional use of it as + may be seen in the common blue and yellow effectism of the present + day. Of the value of moderation and simplicity in the use of this, + as of all other sources of pleasurable emotion, I shall presently + have occasion to speak farther. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + OF UNITY, OR THE TYPE OF THE DIVINE COMPREHENSIVENESS. + + +§ 1. The general conception of divine Unity. + +"All things," says Hooker, "(God only excepted,) besides the nature +which they have in themselves, receive externally some perfection from +other things." Hence the appearance of separation or isolation in +anything, and of self-dependence, is an appearance of imperfection: and +all appearances of connection and brotherhood are pleasant and right, +both as significative of perfection in the things united, and as typical +of that Unity which we attribute to God, and of which our true +conception is rightly explained and limited by Dr. Brown in his XCII. +lecture; that Unity which consists not in his own singleness or +separation, but in the necessity of his inherence in all things that be, +without which no creature of any kind could hold existence for a moment. +Which necessity of Divine essence I think it better to speak of as +comprehensiveness, than as unity, because unity is often understood in +the sense of oneness or singleness, instead of universality, whereas the +only Unity which by any means can become grateful or an object of hope +to men, and whose types therefore in material things can be beautiful, +is that on which turned the last words and prayer of Christ before his +crossing of the Kidron brook. "Neither pray I for these alone, but for +them also which shall believe on me through their word. That they all +may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee." + + +§ 2. The glory of all things is their Unity. + +And so there is not any matter, nor any spirit, nor any creature, but it +is capable of an unity of some kind with other creatures, and in that +unity is its perfection and theirs, and a pleasure also for the +beholding of all other creatures that can behold. So the unity of +spirits is partly in their sympathy, and partly in their giving and +taking, and always in their love; and these are their delight and their +strength, for their strength is in their co-working and army fellowship, +and their delight is in the giving and receiving of alternate and +perpetual currents of good, their inseparable dependency on each other's +being, and their essential and perfect depending on their Creator's: and +so the unity of earthly creatures is their power and their peace, not +like the dead and cold peace of undisturbed stones and solitary +mountains, but the living peace of trust, and the living power of +support, of hands that hold each other and are still: and so the unity +of matter is, in its noblest form, the organization of it which builds +it up into temples for the spirit, and in its lower form, the sweet and +strange affinity, which gives to it the glory of its orderly elements, +and the fair variety of change and assimilation that turns the dust into +the crystal, and separates the waters that be above the firmament from +the waters that be beneath, and in its lowest form; it is the working +and walking and clinging together that gives their power to the winds, +and its syllables and soundings to the air, and their weight to the +waves, and their burning to the sunbeams, and their stability to the +mountains, and to every creature whatsoever operation is for its glory +and for others good. + +Now of that which is thus necessary to the perfection of all things, all +appearance, sign, type, or suggestion must be beautiful, in whatever +matter it may appear. And so to the perfection of beauty in lines, or +colors, or forms, or masses, or multitudes, the appearance of some +species of unity is in the most determined sense of the word essential. + + +§ 3. The several kinds of unity. Subjectional. Original. Of sequence, + and of membership. + +But of the appearances of unity, as of unity itself, there are several +kinds which it will be found hereafter convenient to consider +separately. Thus there is the unity of different and separate things, +subjected to one and the same influence, which may be called +subjectional unity, and this is the unity of the clouds, as they are +driven by the parallel winds, or as they are ordered by the electric +currents, and this the unity of the sea waves, and this of the bending +and undulation of the forest masses, and in creatures capable of will it +is the unity of will or of inspiration. And there is unity of origin, +which we may call original unity, which is of things arising from one +spring and source, and speaking always of this their brotherhood, and +this in matter is the unity of the branches of the trees, and of the +petals and starry rays of flowers, and of the beams of light, and in +spiritual creatures it is their filial relation to Him from whom they +have their being. And there is unity of sequence, which is that of +things that form links in chains, and steps in ascent, and stages in +journeys, and this, in matter, is the unity of communicable forces in +their continuance from one thing to another, and it is the passing +upwards and downwards of beneficent effects among all things, and it is +the melody of sounds, and the beauty of continuous lines, and the +orderly succession of motions and times. And in spiritual creatures it +is their own constant building up by true knowledge and continuous +reasoning to higher perfection, and the singleness and +straight-forwardness of their tendencies to more complete communion with +God. And there is the unity of membership, which we may call essential +unity, which is the unity of things separately imperfect into a perfect +whole, and this is the great unity of which other unities are but parts +and means, it is in matter the harmony of sounds and consistency of +bodies, and among spiritual creatures, their love and happiness and very +life in God. + + +§ 4. Unity of membership. How secured. + +Now of the nature of this last kind of unity, the most important whether +in moral or in those material things with which we are at present +concerned, there is this necessary to be observed, that it cannot exist +between things similar to each other. Two or more equal and like things +cannot be members one of another, nor can they form one, or a whole +thing. Two they must remain, both in nature and in our conception, so +long as they remain alike, unless they are united by a third different +from both. Thus the arms, which are like each other, remain two arms in +our conception. They could not be united by a third arm, they must be +united by something which is not an arm, and which, imperfect without +them as they without it, shall form one perfect body; nor is unity even +thus accomplished, without a difference and opposition of direction in +the setting on of the like members. Therefore among all things which are +to have unity of membership one with another, there must be difference +or variety; and though it is possible that many like things may be made +members of one body, yet it is remarkable that this structure appears +characteristic of the lower creatures, rather than the higher, as the +many legs of the caterpillar, and the many arms and suckers of the +radiata, and that, as we rise in order of being, the number of similar +members becomes less, and their structure commonly seems based on the +principle of the unity of two things by a third, as Plato has it in the +Timęus, § II. + + +§ 5. Variety. Why required. + +Hence, out of the necessity of unity, arises that of variety, a +necessity often more vividly, though never so deeply felt, because lying +at the surfaces of things, and assisted by an influential principle of +our nature, the love of change, and the power of contrast. But it is a +mistake which has led to many unfortunate results, in matters respecting +art, to insist on any inherent agreeableness of variety, without +reference to a farther end. For it is not even true that variety as +such, and in its highest degree, is beautiful. A patched garment of many +colors is by no means so agreeable as one of a single and continuous +hue; the splendid colors of many birds are eminently painful from their +violent separation and inordinate variety, while the pure and colorless +swan is, under certain circumstances, the most beautiful of all +feathered creatures.[14] A forest of all manner of trees is poor, if not +disagreeable in effect,[15] a mass of one species of tree is sublime. It +is therefore only harmonious and chordal variety, that variety which is +necessary to secure and extend unity, (for the greater the number of +objects, which by their differences become members of one another, the +more extended and sublime is their unity,) which is rightly agreeable, +and so I name not variety as essential to beauty, because it is only so +in a secondary and casual sense.[16] + + +§ 6. Change, and its influence on beauty. + +§ 7. The love of change. How morbid and evil. + +Of the love of change as a principle of human nature, and the +pleasantness of variety resulting from it, something has already been +said, (Ch. IV. § 4,) only as there I was opposing the idea that our +being familiar with objects was the cause of our delight in them, so +here, I have to oppose the contrary position, that their strangeness is +the cause of it. For neither familiarity nor strangeness have more +operation on, or connection with, impressions of one sense than of +another, and they have less power over the impressions of sense +generally, than over the intellect in its joyful accepting of fresh +knowledge, and dull contemplation of that it has long possessed. Only in +their operation on the senses they act contrarily at different times, as +for instance the newness of a dress or of some kind of unaccustomed food +may make it for a time delightful, but as the novelty passes away, so +also may the delight, yielding to disgust or indifference, which in +their turn, as custom begins to operate, may pass into affection and +craving, and that which was first a luxury, and then a matter of +indifference, becomes a necessity:[17] whereas in subjects of the +intellect, the chief delight they convey is dependent upon their being +newly and vividly comprehended, and as they become subjects of +contemplation they lose their value, and become tasteless and +unregarded, except as instruments for the reaching of others, only that +though they sink down into the shadowy, effectless, heap of things +indifferent, which we pack, and crush down, and stand upon, to reach +things new, they sparkle afresh at intervals as we stir them by throwing +a new stone into the heap, and letting the newly admitted lights play +upon them. And both in subjects of the intellect and the senses it is to +be remembered, that the love of change is a weakness and imperfection of +our nature, and implies in it the state of probation, and that it is to +teach us that things about us here are not meant for our continual +possession or satisfaction, that ever such passion of change was put in +us as that "custom lies upon us with a weight, heavy as frost, and deep +almost as life," and only such weak back and baby grasp given to our +intellect as that "the best things we do are painful, and the exercise +of them grievous, being continued without intermission, so as in those +very actions whereby we are especially perfected in this life we are not +able to persist." And so it will be found that they are the +weakest-minded and the hardest-hearted men that most love variety and +change, for the weakest-minded are those who both wonder most at things +new, and digest worst things old, in so far that everything they have +lies rusty, and loses lustre for want of use; neither do they make any +stir among their possessions, nor look over them to see what may be made +of them, nor keep any great store, nor are householders with storehouses +of things new and old, but they catch at the new-fashioned garments, and +let the moth and thief look after the rest; and the hardest-hearted men +are those that least feel the endearing and binding power of custom, and +hold on by no cords of affection to any shore, but drive with the waves +that cast up mire and dirt. And certainly it is not to be held that the +perception of beauty and desire of it, are greatest in the hardest heart +and weakest brain; but the love of variety is so, and therefore variety +can be no cause of the beautiful, except, as I have said, when it is +necessary for the perception of unity, neither is there any better test +of that which is indeed beautiful than its surviving or annihilating the +love of change; and this is a test which the best judges of art have +need frequently to use; and the wisest of them will use it always, for +there is much in art that surprises by its brilliancy, or attracts by +its singularity, that can hardly but by course of time, though assuredly +it will by course of time, be winnowed away from the right and real +beauty whose retentive power is forever on the increase, a bread of the +soul for which the hunger is continual. + + +§ 8. The conducting of variety towards unity of subjection. + +Receiving, therefore, variety only as that which accomplishes unity, or +makes it perceived, its operation is found to be very precious, both in +that which I have called unity of subjection, and unity of sequence, as +well as in unity of membership; for although things in all respects the +same may, indeed, be subjected to one influence, yet the power of the +influence, and their obedience to it, is best seen by varied operation +of it on their individual differences, as in clouds and waves there is a +glorious unity of rolling, wrought out by the wild and wonderful +differences of their absolute forms, which, if taken away, would leave +in them only multitudinous and petty repetition, instead of the majestic +oneness of shared passion. And so in the waves and clouds of human +multitude when they are filled with one thought, as we find frequently +in the works of the early Italian men of earnest purpose, who despising, +or happily ignorant of, the sophistications of theories, and the +proprieties of composition, indicated by perfect similarity of action +and gesture on the one hand, and by the infinite and truthful variation +of expression on the other, the most sublime strength because the most +absorbing unity, of multitudinous passion that ever human heart +conceived. Hence, in the cloister of St. Mark's, the intense, fixed, +statue-like silence of ineffable adoration upon the spirits in prison at +the feet of Christ, side by side, the hands lifted, and the knees bowed, +and the lips trembling together;[18] and in St. Domenico of Fiesole,[19] +that whirlwind rush of the Angels and the redeemed souls round about him +at his resurrection, so that we hear the blast of the horizontal +trumpets mixed with the dying clangor of their ingathered wings. The +same great feeling occurs throughout the works of the serious men, +though most intensely in Angelico, and it is well to compare with it the +vileness and falseness of all that succeeded, when men had begun to +bring to the cross foot their systems instead of their sorrow. Take as +the most marked and degraded instance, perhaps, to be anywhere found, +Bronzino's treatment of the same subject (Christ visiting the spirits in +prison,) in the picture now in the Tuscan room of the Uffizii, which, +vile as it is in color, vacant in invention, void in light and shade, a +heap of cumbrous nothingnesses, and sickening offensivenesses, is of all +its voids most void in this, that the academy models therein huddled +together at the bottom, show not so much unity or community of attention +to the academy model with the flag in its hand above, as a street crowd +would be to a fresh-staged charlatan. Some _point_ to the God who has +burst the gates of death, as if the rest were incapable of +distinguishing him for themselves, and others turn their backs upon him, +to show their unagitated faces to the spectator. + + +§ 9. And towards unity of sequence. + +In unity of sequence, the effect of variety is best exemplified by the +melodies of music, wherein by the differences of the notes, they are +connected with each other in certain pleasant relations. This connection +taking place in quantities is proportion, respecting which certain +general principles must be noted, as the subject is one open to many +errors, and obscurely treated of by writers on art. + + +§ 10. The nature of proportion. 1st, of apparent proportion. + +Proportion is of two distinct kinds. Apparent: when it takes place +between qualities for the sake of connection only, without any ultimate +object or casual necessity; and constructive: when it has reference to +some function to be discharged by the quantities, depending on their +proportion. From the confusion of these two kinds of proportion have +arisen the greater part of the erroneous conceptions of the influence of +either. + +Apparent proportion, or the sensible relation of quantities, is one of +the most important means of obtaining unity between things which +otherwise must have remained distinct in similarity, and as it may +consist with every other kind of unity, and persist when every other +means of it fails, it may be considered as lying at the root of most of +our impressions of the beautiful. There is no sense of rightness, or +wrongness connected with it, no sense of utility, propriety, or +expediency. These ideas enter only where the proportion of quantities +has reference to some function to be performed by them. It cannot be +asserted that it is right or that it is wrong that A should be to B, as +B to C; unless A, B, and C have some desirable operation dependent on +that relation. But nevertheless it may be highly agreeable to the eye +that A, B, and C, if visible things, should have visible connection of +ratio, even though nothing be accomplished by such connection. On the +other hand, constructive proportion, or the adaptation of quantities to +functions, is agreeable not to the eye, but to the mind, which is +cognizant of the function to be performed. Thus the pleasantness or +rightness of the proportions of a column depends not on the mere +relation of diameter and height, (which is not proportion at all, for +proportion is between three terms at least,) but on three other involved +terms, the strength of materials, the weight to be borne, and the scale +of the building. The proportions of a wooden column are wrong in a stone +one, and of a small building wrong in a large one,[20] and this owing +solely to mechanical considerations, which have no more to do with +ideas of beauty, than the relation between the arms of a lever, adapted +to the raising of a given weight; and yet it is highly agreeable to +perceive that such constructive proportion has been duly observed, as +it is agreeable to see that anything is fit for its purpose or for ours, +and also that it has been the result of intelligence in the workman of +it, so that we sometimes feel a pleasure in apparent non-adaptation, if +it be a sign of ingenuity; as in the unnatural and seemingly impossible +lightness of Gothic spires and roofs. + +Now, the errors against which I would caution the reader in this matter +are three. The first, is the overlooking or denial of the power of +apparent proportion, of which power neither Burke nor any other writer +whose works I have met with, take cognizance. The second, is the +attribution of _beauty_ to the appearances of constructive proportion. +The third, the denial with Burke of _any_ value or agreeableness in +constructive proportion. + + +§ 11. The value of apparent proportion in curvature. + +Now, the full proof of the influence of apparent proportion, I must +reserve for illustration by diagram; one or two instances however may be +given at present for the better understanding of its nature. + +We have already asserted that all curves are more beautiful than right +lines. All curves, however, are not equally beautiful, and their +differences of beauty depend on the different proportions borne to each +other by those infinitely small right lines of which they may be +conceived as composed. + +When these lines are equal and contain equal angles, there can be no +connection or unity of sequence in them. The resulting curve, the +circle, is therefore the least beautiful of all curves. + +When the lines bear to each other some certain proportion; or when, the +lines remaining equal, the angles vary; or when by any means whatsoever, +and in whatever complicated modes, such differences as shall imply +connection are established between the infinitely small segments, the +resulting curves become beautiful. The simplest of the beautiful curves +are the conic, and the various spirals; but it is as rash as it is +difficult to endeavor to trace any ground of superiority or inferiority +among the infinite numbers of the higher curves. I believe that almost +all are beautiful in their own nature, and that their comparative beauty +depends on the constant quantities involved in their equations. Of this +point I shall speak hereafter at greater length. + + +§ 12. How by nature obtained. + +The universal forces of nature, and the individual energies of the +matter submitted to them, are so appointed and balanced, that they are +continually bringing out curves of this kind in all visible forms, and +that circular lines become nearly impossible under any circumstances. +The gradual acceleration, for instance, of velocity, in streams that +descend from hill-sides, as it gradually increases their power of +erosion increases in the same gradual degree the rate of curvature in +the descent of the slope, until at a certain degree of steepness this +descent meets, and is concealed by the right line of the detritus. The +junction of this right line with the plain is again modified by the +farther bounding of the larger blocks, and by the successively +diminishing proportion of landslips caused by erosion at the bottom, so +that the whole line of the hill is one of curvature, first, gradually +increasing in rapidity to the maximum steepness of which the particular +rock is capable, and then decreasing in a decreasing ratio, until it +arrives at the plain level. This type of form, modified of course more +or less by the original boldness of the mountain, and dependent both on +its age, its constituent rock, and the circumstances of its exposure, is +yet in its general formula applicable to all. So the curves of all +things in motion, and of all organic forms, most rudely and simply in +the shell spirals, and in their most complicated development in the +muscular lines of the higher animals. + +This influence of apparent proportion, a proportion, be it observed, +which has no reference to ultimate ends, but which is itself, seemingly, +the end and object of operation in many of the forces of nature, is +therefore at the root of all our delight in any beautiful form +whatsoever. For no form can be beautiful which is not composed of curves +whose unity is secured by relations of this kind. + + +§ 13. Apparent proportion in melodies of line. + +Not only however in curvature, but in all associations of lines +whatsoever, it is desirable that there should be reciprocal relation, +and the eye is unhappy without perception of it. It is utterly vain to +endeavor to reduce this proportion to finite rules, for it is as various +as musical melody, and the laws to which it is subject are of the same +general kind, so that the determination of right or wrong proportion is +as much a matter of feeling and experience as the appreciation of good +musical composition; not but that there is a science of both, and +principles which may not be infringed, but that within these limits the +liberty of invention is infinite, and the degrees of excellence infinite +also, whence the curious error of Burke in imagining that because he +could not fix upon some one given proportion of lines as better than any +other, therefore proportion had no value nor influence at all, which is +the same as to conclude that there is no such thing as melody in music, +because there are melodies more than one. + + +§ 14. Error of Burke in this matter. + +The argument of Burke on this subject is summed up in the following +words:--"Examine the head of a beautiful horse, find what proportion +that bears to his body and to his limbs, and what relations these have +to each other, and when you have settled these proportions, as a +standard of beauty, then take a dog or cat, or any other animal, and +examine how far the same proportions between their heads and their +necks, between those and the body, and so on, are found to hold; I think +we may safely say, that they differ in every species, yet that there are +individuals found in a great many species, so differing, that have a +very striking beauty. Now if it be allowed that very different, and even +contrary forms and dispositions, are consistent with beauty, it amounts, +I believe, to a concession, that no certain measures operating from a +natural principle are necessary to produce it, at least so far as the +brute species is concerned." + +In this argument there are three very palpable fallacies: the first is +the rough application of measurement to the heads, necks, and limbs, +without observing the subtile differences of proportion and position of +parts in the members themselves, for it would be strange if the +different adjustment of the ears and brow in the dog and horse, did not +require a harmonizing difference of adjustment in the head and neck. The +second fallacy is that above specified, the supposition that proportion +cannot be beautiful if susceptible of variation, whereas the whole +meaning of the term has reference to the adjustment and functional +correspondence of infinitely variable quantities. And the third error is +the oversight of the very important fact, that, although "different and +even contrary forms and dispositions are consistent with beauty," they +are by no means consistent with equal _degrees_ of beauty, so that, +while we find in all the presence of such proportion and harmony of +form, as gifts them with positive agreeableness consistent with the +station and dignity of each, we perceive, also, such superiority of +proportion in some (as the horse, eagle, lion, and man for instance) as +may best be in harmony with the nobler functions and more exalted powers +of the animals. + + +§ 15. Constructive proportion. Its influence in plants. + +And this allowed superiority of some animal forms to others is, in +itself argument against the second error above named, that of +attributing the sensation of beauty to the perception of expedient or +constructive proportion. For everything that God has made is equally +well constructed with reference to its intended functions. But all +things are not equally beautiful. The megatherium is absolutely as well +proportioned, with the view of adaptation of parts to purposes, as the +horse or the swan; but by no means so handsome as either. The fact is, +that the perception of expediency of proportion can but rarely affect +our estimates of beauty, for it implies a knowledge which we very rarely +and imperfectly possess, and the want of which we tacitly acknowledge. + +Let us consider that instance of the proportion of the stalk of a plant +to its head, given by Burke. In order to judge of the expediency of this +proportion, we must know, First, the scale of the plant (for the smaller +the scale, the longer the stem may safely be). Secondly, the toughness +of the materials of the stem and the mode of their mechanical structure. +Thirdly, the specific gravity of the head. Fourthly, the position of the +head which the nature of fructification requires. Fifthly, the accidents +and influences to which the situation for which the plant was created is +exposed. Until we know all this, we cannot say that proportion or +disproportion exists, and because we cannot know all this, the idea of +expedient proportion enters but slightly into our impression of +vegetable beauty, but rather, since the existence of the plant proves +that these proportions have been observed, and we know that nothing but +our own ignorance prevents us from perceiving them, we take the +proportion on credit, and are delighted by the variety of results which +the Divine intelligence has attained in the various involutions of these +quantities, and perhaps most when, to outward appearance, such +proportions have been violated; more by the slenderness of the campanula +than the security of the pine. + + +§ 16. And animals. + +What is obscure in plants, is utterly incomprehensible in animals, owing +to the greater number of means employed and functions performed. To +judge of expedient proportion in them, we must know all that each member +has to do, all its bones, all its muscles, and the amount of nervous +energy communicable to them; and yet, forasmuch as we have more +experience and instinctive sense of the strength of muscles than of +wood, and more practical knowledge of the use of a head or a foot than +of a flower or a stem, we are much more likely to presume upon our +judgment respecting proportions here, we are very apt to assert that the +plesiosaurus and camelopard have necks too long, that the turnspit has +legs too short, and the elephant a body too ponderous. + +But the painfulness arising from the idea of this being the case is +occasioned partly by our sympathy with the animal, partly by our false +apprehension of incompletion in the Divine work,[21] nor in either case +has it any connection with impressions of that typical beauty of which +we are at present speaking; though some, perhaps, with that vital beauty +which will hereafter come under discussion. + + +§ 17. Summary. + +I wish therefore the reader to hold, respecting proportion generally. +First, That apparent proportion, or the melodious connection of +quantities, is a cause of unity, and therefore one of the sources of all +beautiful form. Secondly, That constructive proportion is agreeable to +the mind when it is known or supposed, and that its seeming absence is +painful in a like degree, but that this pleasure and pain have nothing +in common with those dependent on ideas of beauty. + +Farther illustrations of the value of unity I shall reserve for our +detailed examination, as the bringing them forward here would interfere +with the general idea of the subject-matter of the theoretic faculty +which I wish succinctly to convey. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [14] Compare Chap. ix. § 5, note. + + [15] Spenser's various forest is the Forest of Error. + + [16] It must be matter of no small wonderment to practical men to + observe how grossly the nature and connection of unity and variety + have been misunderstood and misstated, by those writers upon taste, + who have been guided by no experience of art; most singularly + perhaps by Mr. Alison, who, confounding unity with uniformity, and + leading his readers through thirty pages of discussion respecting + uniformity and variety, the intelligibility of which is not by any + means increased by his supposing uniformity to be capable of + existence in single things; at last substitutes for these two terms, + sufficiently contradictory already, those of similarity and + dissimilarity, the reconciliation of which opposites in one thing we + must, I believe, leave Mr. Alison to accomplish. + + [17] [Greek: Kai to tauta prattein pollakis hźdy;--to gar synźthes + hźdy źn; kai to metaballein hźdy; eis physin gar gignetai + metaballein.]--Arist. Rhet. I. II. 20. + + [18] Fra Angelico's fresco, in a cell of the upper cloister. He + treated the subject frequently. Another characteristic example + occurs in the Vita di Christo of the Academy, a series now + unfortunately destroyed by the picture cleaners. Simon Memmi in + Santa Maria Novella (Chapelle des Espagnols) has given another very + beautiful instance. In Giotto the principle is universal, though his + multitudes are somewhat more dramatically and powerfully varied in + gesture than Angelico's. In Mino da Fiesole's altar-piece in the + church of St. Ambrogiot at Florence, close by Cosimo Rosselli's + fresco, there is a beautiful example in marble. + + [19] The Predella of the picture behind the altar. + + [20] It seems never to have been rightly understood, even by the + more intelligent among our architects, that proportion is in any way + connected with positive size; it seems to be held among them that a + small building may be expanded to a large one merely by + proportionally expanding all its parts: and that the harmony will be + equally agreeable on whatever scale it be rendered. Now this is true + of apparent proportion, but utterly false of constructive; and, as + much of the value of architectural proportion is constructive, the + error is often productive of the most painful results. It may be + best illustrated by observing the conditions of proportion in + animals. Many persons have thoughtlessly claimed admiration for the + strength--supposed gigantic--of insects and smaller animals; because + capable of lifting weights, leaping distances, and surmounting + obstacles, of proportion apparently overwhelming. Thus the Formica + Herculanea will lift in its mouth, and brandish like a baton, sticks + thicker than itself and six times its length, all the while + scrambling over crags of about the proportionate height of the + Cliffs of Dover, three or four in a minute. There is nothing + extraordinary in this, nor any exertion of strength necessarily + greater than human, in proportion to the size of the body. For it is + evident that if the size and strength of any creature be expanded or + diminished in proportion to each other, the distance through which + it can leap, the time it can maintain exertion, or any other third + term resultant, remains constant; that is, diminish weight of powder + and of ball proportionately, and the distance carried is constant or + nearly so. Thus, a grasshopper, a man, and a giant 100 feet high, + supposing their muscular strength equally proportioned to their + size, can or could all leap, not proportionate distance, but the + same or nearly the same distance--say, four feet the grasshopper, or + forty-eight times his length; six feet the man or his length + exactly; ten feet the giant or the tenth of his length. Hence all + small animals can, _coeteris paribus_, perform feats of strength + and agility, exactly so much greater than those to be executed by + large ones, as the animals themselves are smaller; and to enable an + elephant to leap like a grasshopper, he must be endowed with + strength a million times greater in _proportion_ to his size. Now + the consequence of this general mechanical law is, that as we + increase the scale of animals, their means of power, whether muscles + of motion or bones of support, must be increased in a more than + proportionate degree, or they become utterly unwieldy, and incapable + of motion;--and there is a limit to this increase of strength. If + the elephant had legs as long as a spider's, no combination of + animal matter that could be hide-bound would have strength enough to + move them: to support the megatherium, we must have a humerus a foot + in diameter, though perhaps not more than two feet long, and that in + a vertical position under him, while the gnat can hang on the window + frame, and poise himself to sting, in the middle of crooked stilts + like threads; stretched out to ten times the breadth of his body on + each side. Increase the size of the megatherium a little more, and + no phosphate of lime will bear him; he would crush his own legs to + powder. (Compare Sir Charles Bell, "Bridgewater Treatise on the + Hand," p. 296, and the note.) Hence there is not only a limit to the + size of animals, in the conditions of matter, but to their activity + also, the largest being always least capable of exertion; and this + would be the case to a far greater extent, but that nature + beneficently alters her proportions as she increases her scale; + giving, as we have seen, long legs and enormous wings to the smaller + tribes, and short and thick proportion to the larger. So in + vegetables--compare the stalk of an ear of oat, and the trunk of a + pine, the mechanical relations being in both the same. So also in + waves, of which the large never can be mere exaggerations of the + small, but have different slopes and curvatures: so in mountains and + all things else, necessarily, and from ordinary mechanical laws. + Whence in architecture, according to the scale of the building, its + proportions must be altered; and I have no hesitation in calling + that unmeaning exaggeration of parts in St. Peter's, of flutings, + volutes, friezes, etc., in the proportions of a smaller building, a + vulgar blunder, and one that destroys all the majesty that the + building ought to have had--and still more I should so call all + imitations and adaptations of large buildings on a small scale. The + true test of right proportion is that it shall itself inform us of + the scale of the building, and be such that even in a drawing it + shall instantly induce the conception of the actual size, or size + intended. I know not what Fuseli means by that aphorism of his:-- + + "Disproportion of parts is the element of hugeness--proportion, of + grandeur. All Gothic styles of Architecture are huge. The Greek + alone is grand." When a building _is_ vast, it ought to look so; and + the proportion is right which exhibits its vastness. Nature loses no + size by her proportion; her buttressed mountains have more of Gothic + than of Greek in them. + + [21] For the just and severe reproof of which, compare Sir Charles + Bell, (on the hand,) pp. 31, 32. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + OF REPOSE, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE PERMANENCE. + + +§ 1. Universal feeling respecting the necessity of repose in art. Its + sources. + +There is probably no necessity more imperatively felt by the artist, no +test more unfailing of the greatness of artistical treatment, than that +of the appearance of repose, and yet there is no quality whose semblance +in mere matter is more difficult to define or illustrate. Nevertheless, +I believe that our instinctive love of it, as well as the cause to which +I attribute that love, (although here also, as in the former cases, I +contend not for the interpretation, but for the fact,) will be readily +allowed by the reader. As opposed to passion, changefulness, or +laborious exertion, repose is the especial and separating characteristic +of the eternal mind and power; it is the "I am" of the Creator opposed +to the "I become" of all creatures; it is the sign alike of the supreme +knowledge which is incapable of surprise, the supreme power which is +incapable of labor, the supreme volition which is incapable of change; +it is the stillness of the beams of the eternal chambers laid upon the +variable waters of ministering creatures; and as we saw before that the +infinity which was a type of the Divine nature on the one hand, became +yet more desirable on the other from its peculiar address to our prison +hopes, and to the expectations of an unsatisfied and unaccomplished +existence, so the types of this third attribute of the Deity might seem +to have been rendered farther attractive to mortal instinct, through the +infliction upon the fallen creature of a curse necessitating a labor +once unnatural and still most painful, so that the desire of rest +planted in the heart is no sensual nor unworthy one, but a longing for +renovation and for escape from a state whose every phase is mere +preparation for another equally transitory, to one in which permanence +shall have become possible through perfection. Hence the great call of +Christ to men, that call on which St. Augustine fixed essential +expression of Christian hope, is accompanied by the promise of rest;[22] +and the death bequest of Christ to men is peace. + + +§ 2. Repose how expressed in matter. + +Repose, as it is expressed in material things, is either a simple +appearance of permanence and quietness, as in the massy forms of a +mountain or rock, accompanied by the lulling effect of all mighty sight +and sound, which all feel and none define, (it would be less sacred if +more explicable,) [Greek: heudousin dioreōn koruphai te kai pharanges], +or else it is repose proper, the rest of things in which there is +vitality or capability of motion actual or imagined; and with respect to +these the expression of repose is greater in proportion to the amount +and sublimity of the action which is not taking place, as well as to the +intensity of the negation of it. Thus we speak not of repose in a stone, +because the motion of a stone has nothing in it of energy nor vitality, +neither its repose of stability. But having once seen a great rock come +down a mountain side, we have a noble sensation of its rest, now bedded +immovably among the under fern, because the power and fearfulness of its +motion were great, and its stability and negation of motion are now +great in proportion. Hence the imagination, which delights in nothing +more than the enhancing of the characters of repose, effects this +usually by either attributing to things visibly energetic an ideal +stability, or to things visibly stable an ideal activity or vitality. +Hence Wordsworth, of the cloud, which in itself having too much of +changefulness for his purpose, is spoken of as one "that heareth not the +loud winds when they call, and moveth altogether, if it move at all." +And again of children, which, that it may remove from them the child +restlessness, the imagination conceives as rooted flowers "Beneath an +old gray oak, as violets, lie." On the other hand, the scattered rocks, +which have not, as such, vitality enough for rest, are gifted with it by +the living image: they "lie couched around us like a flock of sheep." + + +§ 3. The necessity to repose of an implied energy. + +Thus, as we saw that unity demanded for its expression what at first +might have seemed its contrary (variety) so repose demands for its +expression the implied capability of its opposite, energy, and this even +in its lower manifestations, in rocks and stones and trees. By comparing +the modes in which the mind is disposed to regard the boughs of a fair +and vigorous tree, motionless in the summer air, with the effect +produced by one of these same boughs hewn square and used for threshold +or lintel, the reader will at once perceive the connection of vitality +with repose, and the part they both bear in beauty. + + +§ 4. Mental repose, how noble. + +But that which in lifeless things ennobles them by seeming to indicate +life, ennobles higher creatures by indicating the exaltation of their +earthly vitality into a Divine vitality; and raising the life of sense +into the life of faith--faith, whether we receive it in the sense of +adherence to resolution, obedience to law, regardfulness of promise, in +which from all time it has been the test as the shield of the true being +and life of man, or in the still higher sense of trustfulness in the +presence, kindness, and word of God; in which form it has been exhibited +under the Christian dispensation. For whether in one or other form, +whether the faithfulness of men whose path is chosen and portion fixed, +in the following and receiving of that path and portion, as in the +Thermopylę camp; or the happier faithfulness of children in the good +giving of their Father, and of subjects in the conduct of their king, as +in the "Stand still and see the salvation of God" of the Red Sea shore, +there is rest and peacefulness, the "standing still" in both, the +quietness of action determined, of spirit unalarmed, of expectation +unimpatient: beautiful, even when based only as of old, on the +self-command and self-possession, the persistent dignity or the +uncalculating love of the creature,[23] but more beautiful yet when the +rest is one of humility instead of pride, and the trust no more in the +resolution we have taken, but in the hand we hold. + + +§ 5. Its universal value as a test of art. + +Hence I think that there is no desire more intense or more exalted than +that which exists in all rightly disciplined minds for the evidences of +repose in external signs, and what I cautiously said respecting +infinity, I say fearlessly respecting repose, that no work of art can be +great without it, and that all art is great in proportion to the +appearance of it. It is the most unfailing test of beauty, whether of +matter or of motion, nothing can be ignoble that possesses it, nothing +right that has it not, and in strict proportion to its appearance in the +work is the majesty of mind to be inferred in the artificer. Without +regard to other qualities, we may look to this for our evidence, and by +the search for this alone we may be led to the rejection of all that is +base, and the accepting of all that is good and great, for the paths of +wisdom are all peace. We shall see by this light three colossal images +standing up side by side, looming in their great rest of spirituality +above the whole world horizon, Phidias, Michael Angelo, and Dante; and +then, separated from their great religious thrones only by less fulness +and earnestness of Faith, Homer, and Shakspeare; and from these we may +go down step by step among the mighty men of every age, securely and +certainly observant of diminished lustre in every appearance of +restlessness and effort, until the last trace of true inspiration +vanishes in the tottering affectations or the tortured insanities of +modern times. There is no art, no pursuit, whatsoever, but its results +may be classed by this test alone; everything of evil is betrayed and +winnowed away by it, glitter and confusion and glare of color, +inconsistency or absence of thought, forced expression, evil choice of +subject, over accumulation of materials, whether in painting or +literature, the shallow and unreflecting nothingness of the English +schools of art, the strained and disgusting horrors of the French, the +distorted feverishness of the German:--pretence, over decoration, over +division of parts in architecture, and again in music, in acting, in +dancing, in whatsoever art, great or mean, there are yet degrees of +greatness or meanness entirely dependent on this single quality of +repose. + + +§ 6. Instances in the Laocoon and Theseus. + +Particular instances are at present both needless and cannot but be +inadequate; needless, because I suppose that every reader, however +limited his experience of art, can supply many for himself, and +inadequate, because no number of them could illustrate the full extent +of the influence of the expression. I believe, however, that by +comparing the disgusting convulsions of the Laocoon, with the Elgin +Theseus, we may obtain a general idea of the effect of the influence, as +shown by its absence in one, and presence in the other, of two works +which, as far as artistical merit is concerned, are in some measure +parallel, not that I believe, even in this respect, the Laocoon +justifiably comparable with the Theseus. I suppose that no group has +exercised so pernicious an influence on art as this, a subject ill +chosen, meanly conceived and unnaturally treated, recommended to +imitation by subtleties of execution and accumulation of technical +knowledge.[24] + + +§ 7. And in altar tombs. + +In Christian art, it would be well to compare the feeling of the finer +among the altar tombs of the middle ages, with any monumental works +after Michael Angelo, perhaps more especially with works of Roubilliac +or Canova. + +In the Cathedral of Lucca, near the entrance door of the north transept, +there is a monument of Jacopo della Quercia's to Ilaria di Caretto, the +wife of Paolo Guinigi. I name it not as more beautiful or perfect than +other examples of the same period, but as furnishing an instance of the +exact and right mean between the rigidity and rudeness of the earlier +monumental effigies, and the morbid imitation of life, sleep, or death, +of which the fashion has taken place in modern times.[25] She is lying +on a simple couch, with a hound at her feet, not on the side, but with +the head laid straight and simply on the hard pillow, in which, let it +be observed, there is no effort at deceptive imitation of pressure. It +is understood as a pillow, but not mistaken for one. The hair is bound +in a flat braid over the fair brow, the sweet and arched eyes are +closed, the tenderness of the loving lips is set and quiet, there is +that about them which forbids breath, something which is not death nor +sleep, but the pure image of both. The hands are not lifted in prayer, +neither folded, but the arms are laid at length upon the body, and the +hands cross as they fall. The feet are hidden by the drapery, and the +forms of the limbs concealed, but not their tenderness. + +If any of us, after staying for a time beside this tomb, could see +through his tears, one of the vain and unkind encumbrances of the grave, +which, in these hollow and heartless days, feigned sorrow builds to +foolish pride, he would, I believe, receive such a lesson of love as no +coldness could refuse, no fatuity forget, and no insolence disobey. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [22] Matt. xi. 28. + + [23] "The universal instinct of repose, + The longing for confirmed tranquillity + Inward and outward, humble, yet sublime. + The life where hope and memory are as one. + Earth quiet and unchanged; the human soul + Consistent in self-rule; and heaven revealed + To meditation, in that quietness." + + WORDSWORTH. Excursion, Book iii. + + But compare carefully (for this is put into the mouth of one + diseased in thought and erring in seeking) the opening of the ninth + book; and observe the difference between the mildew of + inaction,--the slumber of Death; and the Patience of the Saints--the + Rest of the Sabbath Eternal. (Rev. xiv. 13.) + + Compare also, Chap. I. § 6. + + [24] I would also have the reader compare with the meagre lines and + contemptible tortures of the Laocoon, the awfulness and quietness of + M. Angelo's treatment of a subject in most respects similar, (the + plague of the Fiery Serpents,) but of which the choice was justified + both by the place which the event holds in the typical system he had + to arrange, and by the grandeur of the plague itself, in its + multitudinous grasp, and its mystical salvation; sources of + sublimity entirely wanting to the slaughter of the Dardan priest. It + is good to see how his gigantic intellect reaches after repose, and + truthfully finds it, in the falling hand of the near figure, and in + the deathful decline of that whose hands are held up even in their + venom coldness to the cross; and though irrelevant to our present + purpose, it is well also to note how the grandeur of this treatment + results, not merely from choice, but from a greater knowledge and + more faithful rendering of truth. For whatever knowledge of the + human frame there may be in the Laocoon, there is certainly none of + the habits of serpents. The fixing of the snake's head in the side + of the principal figure is as false to nature, as it is poor in + composition of line. A large serpent never wants to bite, it wants + to hold, it seizes therefore always where it can hold best, by the + extremities, or throat, it seizes once and forever, and that before + it coils, following up the seizure with the twist of its body round + the victim, as invisibly swift as the twist of a whip lash round any + hard object it may strike, and then it holds fast, never moving the + jaws or the body, if its prey has any power of struggling left, it + throws round another coil, without quitting the hold with the jaws; + if Laocoon had had to do with real serpents, instead of pieces of + tape with heads to them, he would have been held still, and not + allowed to throw his arms or legs about. It is most instructive to + observe the accuracy of Michael Angelo in the rendering of these + circumstances; the binding of the arms to the body, and the knotting + of the whole mass of agony together, until we hear the crashing of + the bones beneath the grisly sliding of the engine folds. Note also + the expression in all the figures of another circumstance, the + torpor and cold numbness of the limbs induced by the serpent venom, + which, though justifiably overlooked by the sculptor of the Laocoon, + as well as by Virgil--in consideration of the rapidity of the death + by crushing, adds infinitely to the power of the Florentine's + conception, and would have been better hinted by Virgil, than that + sickening distribution of venom on the garlands. In fact, Virgil has + missed both of truth and impressiveness every way--the "morsu + depascitur" is unnatural butchery--the "perfusus veneno" gratuitous + foulness--the "clamores horrendos," impossible degradation; compare + carefully the remarks on this statue in Sir Charles Bell's Essay on + Expression, (third edition, p. 192) where he has most wisely and + uncontrovertibly deprived the statue of all claim to expression of + energy and fortitude of mind, and shown its common and coarse intent + of mere bodily exertion and agony, while he has confirmed Payne + Knight's just condemnation of the passage in Virgil. + + If the reader wishes to see the opposite or imaginative view of the + subject, let him compare Winkelmann; and Schiller, Letters on + Ęsthetic Culture. + + [25] Whenever, in monumental work, the sculptor reaches a deceptive + appearance of life or death, or of concomitant details, he has gone + too far. The statue should be felt for such, not look like a dead or + sleeping body; it should not convey the impression of a corpse, nor + of sick and outwearied flesh, but it should be the marble _image_ of + death or weariness. So the concomitants should be distinctly marble, + severe and monumental in their lines, not shroud, not bedclothes, + not actual armor nor brocade, not a real soft pillow, not a + downright hard stuffed mattress, but the mere type and suggestion of + these: a certain rudeness and incompletion of finish is very noble + in all. Not that they are to be unnatural, such lines as are given + should be pure and true, and clear of the hardness and mannered + rigidity of the strictly Gothic types, but lines so few and grand as + to appeal to the imagination only, and always to stop short of + realization. There is a monument put up lately by a modern Italian + sculptor in one of the side chapels of Santa Croce, the face fine + and the execution dexterous. But it looks as if the person had been + restless all night, and the artist admitted to a faithful study of + the disturbed bedclothes in the morning. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + OF SYMMETRY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE JUSTICE. + + +§ 1. Symmetry, what and how found in organic nature. + +§ 2. How necessary in art. + +We shall not be long detained by the consideration of this, the fourth +constituent of beauty, as its nature is universally felt and understood. +In all perfectly beautiful objects, there is found the opposition of one +part to another and a reciprocal balance obtained; in animals the +balance being commonly between opposite sides, (note the +disagreeableness occasioned by the exception in flat fish, having the +eyes on one side of the head,) but in vegetables the opposition is less +distinct, as in the boughs on opposite sides of trees, and the leaves +and sprays on each side of the boughs, and in dead matter less perfect +still, often amounting only to a certain tendency towards a balance, as +in the opposite sides of valleys and alternate windings of streams. In +things in which perfect symmetry is from their nature impossible or +improper, a balance must be at least in some measure expressed before +they can be beheld with pleasure. Hence the necessity of what artists +require as opposing lines or masses in composition, the propriety of +which, as well as their value, depends chiefly on their inartificial and +natural invention. Absolute equality is not required, still less +absolute similarity. A mass of subdued color may be balanced by a point +of a powerful one, and a long and latent line overpowered by a short and +conspicuous one. The only error against which it is necessary to guard +the reader with respect to symmetry, is the confounding it with +proportion, though it seems strange that the two terms could ever have +been used as synonymous. Symmetry is the _opposition_ of _equal_ +quantities to each other. Proportion the _connection_ of _unequal_ +quantities with each other. The property of a tree in sending out equal +boughs on opposite sides is symmetrical. Its sending out shorter and +smaller towards the top, proportional. In the human face its balance +of opposite sides is symmetry, its division upwards, proportion. + +[Illustration: TOMB OF THE ILARIA DI CARETTO, LUCCA. From a photograph.] + + +§ 3. To what its agreeableness is referable. Various instances. + +§ 4. Especially in religious art. + +Whether the agreeableness of symmetry be in any way referable to its +expression of the Aristotelian [Greek: isotźs], that is to say of +abstract justice, I leave the reader to determine; I only assert +respecting it, that it is necessary to the dignity of every form, and +that by the removal of it we shall render the other elements of beauty +comparatively ineffectual: though, on the other hand, it is to be +observed that it is rather a mode of arrangement of qualities than a +quality itself; and hence symmetry has little power over the mind, +unless all the other constituents of beauty be found together with it. A +form may be symmetrical and ugly, as many Elizabethan ornaments, and yet +not so ugly as it had been if unsymmetrical, but bettered always by +increasing degrees of symmetry; as in star figures, wherein there is a +circular symmetry of many like members, whence their frequent use for +the plan and ground of ornamental designs; so also it is observable that +foliage in which the leaves are concentrically grouped, as in the +chestnuts, and many shrubs--rhododendrons for instance--(whence the +perfect beauty of the Alpine rose)--is far nobler in its effect than any +other, so that the sweet chestnut of all trees most fondly and +frequently occurs in the landscape of Tintoret and Titian, beside which +all other landscape grandeur vanishes: and even in the meanest things +the rule holds, as in the kaleidoscope, wherein agreeableness is given +to forms altogether accidental merely by their repetition and reciprocal +opposition; which orderly balance and arrangement are essential to the +perfect operation of the more earnest and solemn qualities of the +beautiful, as being heavenly in their nature, and contrary to the +violence and disorganization of sin, so that the seeking of them and +submission to them is always marked in minds that have been subjected to +high moral discipline, constant in all the great religious painters, to +the degree of being an offence and a scorn to men of less tuned and +tranquil feeling. Equal ranks of saints are placed on each side of the +picture, if there be a kneeling figure on one side, there is a +corresponding one on the other, the attendant angels beneath and above +are arranged in like order. The Raffaelle at Blenheim, the Madonna di +St. Sisto, the St. Cicilia, and all the works of Perugino, Francia, and +John Bellini present some such form, and the balance at least is +preserved even in pictures of action necessitating variety of grouping, +as always by Giotto; and by Ghirlandajo in the introduction of his +chorus-like side figures, and by Tintoret most eminently in his noblest +work, the Crucifixion, where not only the grouping but the arrangement +of light is absolutely symmetrical. Where there is no symmetry, the +effects of passion and violence are increased, and many very sublime +pictures derive their sublimity from the want of it, but they lose +proportionally in the diviner quality of beauty. In landscape the same +sense of symmetry is preserved, as we shall presently see, even to +artificialness, by the greatest men, and it is one of the principal +sources of deficient feeling in the landscapes of the present day, that +the symmetry of nature is sacrificed to irregular picturesqueness. Of +this, however, hereafter. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + OF PURITY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE ENERGY. + + +§ 1. The influence of light as a sacred symbol. + +It may at first appear strange that I have not in my enumeration of the +types of Divine attributes, included that which is certainly the most +visible and evident of all, as well as the most distinctly expressed in +Scripture; God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. But I could +not logically class the presence of an actual substance or motion with +mere conditions and modes of being, neither could I logically separate +from any of these, that which is evidently necessary to the perception +of all. And it is also to be observed, that though the love of light is +more instinctive in the human heart than any other of the desires +connected with beauty, we can hardly separate its agreeableness in its +own nature from the sense of its necessity and value for the purposes of +life, neither the abstract painfulness of darkness from the sense of +danger and incapacity connected with it; and note also that it is not +_all_ light, but light possessing the universal qualities of beauty, +diffused or infinite rather than in points, tranquil, not startling and +variable, pure, not sullied or oppressed, which is indeed pleasant and +perfectly typical of the Divine nature. + + +§ 2. The idea of purity connected with it. + +Observe, however, that there is one quality, the idea of which had been +just introduced in connection with light, which might have escaped us in +the consideration of mere matter, namely purity, and yet I think that +the original notion of this quality is altogether material, and has only +been attributed to color when such color is suggestive of the condition +of matter from which we originally received the idea. For I see not in +the abstract how one color should be considered purer than another, +except as more or less compounded, whereas there is certainly a sense of +purity or impurity in the most compound and neutral colors, as well as +in the simplest, a quality difficult to define, and which the reader +will probably be surprised by my calling the type of energy, with which +it has certainly little traceable connection in the mind. + + +§ 3. Originally derived from conditions of matter. + +§ 4. Associated ideas adding to the power of the impression. Influence + of clearness. + +§ 5. Perfect beauty of surface, in what consisting. + +I believe however if we carefully analyze the nature of our ideas of +impurity in general, we shall find them refer especially to conditions +of matter in which its various elements are placed in a relation +incapable of healthy or proper operation; and most distinctly to +conditions in which the negation of vital or energetic action is most +evident, as in corruption and decay of all kinds, wherein particles +which once, by their operation on each other, produced a living and +energetic whole, are reduced to a condition of perfect passiveness, in +which they are seized upon and appropriated, one by one, piecemeal, by +whatever has need of them, without any power of resistance or energy of +their own. And thus there is a peculiar painfulness attached to any +associations of inorganic with organic matter, such as appear to involve +the inactivity and feebleness of the latter, so that things which are +not felt to be foul in their own nature, yet become so in association +with things of greater inherent energy; as dust or earth, which in a +mass excites no painful sensation, excites a most disagreeable one when +strewing or staining an animal's skin, because it implies a decline and +deadening of the vital and healthy power of the skin. But all reasoning +about this impression is rendered difficult, by the host of associated +ideas connected with it; for the ocular sense of impurity connected with +corruption is infinitely enhanced by the offending of other senses and +by the grief and horror of it in its own nature, as the special +punishment and evidence of sin, and on the other hand, the ocular +delight in purity is mingled, as I before observed, with the love of the +mere element of light, as a type of wisdom and of truth; whence it seems +to me that we admire the transparency of bodies, though probably it is +still rather owing to our sense of more perfect order and arrangement of +particles, and not to our love of light, that we look upon a piece of +rock crystal as purer than a piece of marble, and on the marble as purer +than a piece of chalk. And let it be observed also that the most lovely +objects in nature are only partially transparent. I suppose the utmost +possible sense of beauty is conveyed by a feebly translucent, smooth, +but not lustrous surface of white, and pale warm red, subdued by the +most pure and delicate grays, as in the finer portions of the human +frame; in wreaths of snow, and in white plumage under rose light,[26] so +Viola of Olivia in Twelfth Night, and Homer of Atrides wounded.[27] And +I think that transparency and lustre, both beautiful in themselves, are +incompatible with the highest beauty because they destroy form, on the +full perception of which more of the divinely character of the object +depends than upon its color. Hence, in the beauty of snow and of flesh, +so much translucency is allowed as is consistent with the full +explanation of the forms, while we are suffered to receive more intense +impressions of light and transparency from other objects which, +nevertheless, owing to their necessarily unperceived form, are not +perfectly nor affectingly beautiful. A fair forehead outshines its +diamond diadem. The sparkle of the cascade withdraws not our eyes from +the snowy summits in their evening silence. + + +§ 6. Purity only metaphorically a type of sinlessness. + +It may seem strange to many readers that I have not spoken of purity in +that sense in which it is most frequently used, as a type of +sinlessness. I do not deny that the frequent metaphorical use of it in +Scripture may have and ought to have much influence on the sympathies +with which we regard it, and that probably the immediate agreeableness +of it to most minds arises far more from this source than from that to +which I have chosen to attribute it. But, in the first place, if it be +indeed in the signs of Divine and not of human attributes that beauty +consists, I see not how the idea of sin can be formed with respect to +the Deity, for it is an idea of a relation borne by us to Him, and not +in any way to be attached to his abstract nature. And if the idea of sin +is incapable of being formed with respect to Him, so also is its +negative, for we cannot form an idea of negation, where we cannot form +an idea of presence. If for instance one could conceive of taste or +flavor in a proposition of Euclid, so also might we of insipidity, but +if not of the one, then not of the other. So that, in speaking of the +goodness of God, it cannot be that we mean anything more than his Love, +Mercifulness, and Justice, and these attributes I have shown to be +expressed by other qualities of beauty, and I cannot trace any rational +connection between them and the idea of spotlessness in matter. Neither +can I trace any more distinct relation between this idea, and any of the +virtues which make up the righteousness of man, except perhaps those of +truth and openness, of which I have already spoken as more expressed by +the transparency than the mere purity of matter. So that I conceive the +whole use of the terms purity, spotlessness, etc., in moral subjects, to +be merely metaphorical, and that it is rather that we illustrate these +virtues by the desirableness of material purity, than that we desire +material purity because it is illustrative of these virtues. + + +§ 7. Energy, how expressed by purity of matter. + +I repeat, then, that the only idea which I think can be legitimately +connected with purity of matter, is this of vital and energetic +connection among its particles, and that the idea of foulness is +essentially connected with dissolution and death. Thus the purity of the +rock, contrasted with the foulness of dust or mould, is expressed by the +epithet "living," very singularly given in the rock, in almost all +languages; singularly I say, because life is almost the last attribute +one would ascribe to stone, but for this visible energy and connection +of its particles: and so of water as opposed to stagnancy. And I do not +think that, however pure a powder or dust may be, the idea of beauty is +ever connected with it, for it is not the mere purity, but the _active_ +condition of the substance which is desired, so that as soon as it +shoots into crystals, or gathers into efflorescence, a sensation of +_active_ or real purity is received which was not felt in the calcined +caput mortuum. + + +§ 8. And of color. + +§ 9. Spirituality, how so expressed. + +And again in color. I imagine that the quality of it which we term +purity is dependent on the full energizing of the rays that compose it, +whereof if in compound hues any are overpowered and killed by the rest, +so as to be of no value nor operation, foulness is the consequence; +while so long as all act together, whether side by side, or from +pigments seen one through the other, so that all the coloring matter +employed comes into play in the harmony desired, and none be quenched +nor killed, purity results. And so in all cases I suppose that pureness +is made to us desirable, because expressive of the constant presence and +energizing of the Deity in matter, through which all things live and +move, and have their being, and that foulness is painful as the +accompaniment of disorder and decay, and always indicative of the +withdrawal of Divine support. And the practical analogies of life, the +invariable connection of outward foulness with mental sloth and +degradation, as well as with bodily lethargy and disease, together with +the contrary indications of freshness and purity belonging to every +healthy and active organic frame, (singularly seen in the effort of the +young leaves when first their inward energy prevails over the earth, +pierces its corruption, and shakes its dust away from their own white +purity of life,) all these circumstances strengthen the instinct by +associations countless and irresistible. And then, finally, with the +idea of purity comes that of spirituality, for the essential +characteristic of matter is its inertia, whence, by adding to it purity +or energy, we may in some measure spiritualize even matter itself. Thus +in the descriptions of the Apocalypse it is its purity that fits it for +its place in heaven; the river of the water of life, that proceeds out +of the throne of the Lamb, is clear as crystal, and the pavement of the +city is pure gold, like unto clear glass.[28] + + +FOOTNOTES + + [26] The reader will observe that I am speaking at present of mere + material qualities. If he would obtain perfect ideas respecting + loveliness of luminous surface, let him closely observe a swan with + its wings expanded in full light five minutes before sunset. The + human cheek or the rose leaf are perhaps hardly so pure, and the + forms of snow, though individually as beautiful, are less + exquisitely combined. + + [27] [Greek: hōs d' ote tis t' elephanta gynź phoiniki miźnź + Mźonis.] + + So Spenser of Shamefacedness, an exquisite piece of glowing + color--and sweetly of Belphoebe--(so the roses and lilies of all + poets.) Compare the making of the image of Florimell. + + "The substance whereof she the body made + Was purest snow, in massy mould congealed, + Which she had gathered in a shady glade + Of the Riphoean hills. + The same she tempered with fine mercury, + And mingled them with perfect vermily." + + With Una he perhaps overdoes the white a little. She is two degrees + of comparison above snow. Compare his questioning in the Hymn to + Beauty, about that mixture made of colors fair; and goodly + temperament, of pure complexion. + + "Hath white and red in it such wondrous power + That it can pierce through the eyes into the heart?" + + Where the distinction between typical and vital beauty is very + gloriously carried out. + + [28] I have not spoken here of any of the associations connected + with warmth or coolness of color, they are partly connected with + vital beauty, compare Chap. xiv. § 22, 23, and partly with + impressions of the sublime, the discussion of which is foreign to + the present subject; purity, however, it is which gives value to + both, for neither warm nor cool color, can be beautiful, if impure. + + Neither have I spoken of any questions relating to melodies of + color, a subject of separate science--whose general principle has + been already stated in the seventh chapter respecting unity of + sequence. Those qualities only are here noted which give absolute + beauty, whether to separate color or to melodies of it--for all + melodies are not beautiful, but only those which are expressive of + certain pleasant or solemn emotions; and the rest startling, or + curious, or cheerful, or exciting, or sublime, but not beautiful, + (and so in music.) And all questions relating to this grandeur, + cheerfulness, or other characteristic impression of color must be + considered under the head of ideas of relation. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + OF MODERATION, OR THE TYPE OF GOVERNMENT BY LAW. + + +§ 1. Meaning of the terms Chasteness and Refinement. + +Of objects which, in respect of the qualities hitherto considered, +appear to have equal claims to regard, we find, nevertheless, that +certain are preferred to others in consequence of an attractive power, +usually expressed by the terms "chasteness, refinement, or elegance," +and it appears also that things which in other respects have little in +them of natural beauty, and are of forms altogether simple and adapted +to simple uses, are capable of much distinction and desirableness in +consequence of these qualities only. It is of importance to discover the +real nature of the ideas thus expressed. + + +§ 2. How referable to temporary fashions. + +Something of the peculiar meaning of the words is referable to the +authority of fashion and the exclusiveness of pride, owing to which that +which is the mode of a particular time is submissively esteemed, and +that which by its costliness or its rarity is of difficult attainment, +or in any way appears to have been chosen as the best of many things, +(which is the original sense of the words elegant and exquisite,) is +esteemed for the witness it bears to the dignity of the chooser. + +But neither of these ideas are in any way connected with eternal beauty, +neither do they at all account for that agreeableness of color and form +which is especially termed chasteness, and which it would seem to be a +characteristic of rightly trained mind in all things to prefer, and of +common minds to reject. + + +§ 3. How to the perception of completion. + +§ 4. Finish, by great masters esteemed essential. + +There is however another character of artificial productions, to which +these terms have partial reference, which it is of some importance to +note, that of finish, exactness, or refinement, which are commonly +desired in the works of men, owing both to their difficulty of +accomplishment and consequent expression of care and power (compare +Chapter on Ideas of Power, Part I. Sect, i.,) and from their greater +resemblance to the working of God, whose "absolute exactness," says +Hooker, "all things imitate, by tending to that which is most exquisite +in every particular." And there is not a greater sign of the +imperfection of general taste, than its capability of contentment with +forms and things which, professing completion, are yet not exact nor +complete, as in the vulgar with wax and clay and china figures, and in +bad sculptors with an unfinished and clay-like modelling of surface, and +curves and angles of no precision or delicacy; and in general, in all +common and unthinking persons with an imperfect rendering of that which +might be pure and fine, as church-wardens are content to lose the sharp +lines of stone carving under clogging obliterations of whitewash, and as +the modern Italians scrape away and polish white all the sharpness and +glory of the carvings on their old churches, as most miserably and +pitifully on St. Mark's at Venice, and the Baptisteries of Pistoja and +Pisa, and many others; so also the delight of vulgar painters in coarse +and slurred painting, merely for the sake of its coarseness,[29] as of +Spagnoletto, Salvator, or Murillo, opposed to the divine finish which +the greatest and mightiest of men disdained not, but rather wrought out +with painfulness and life spending; as Leonardo and Michael Angelo, (for +the latter, however many things he left unfinished, did finish, if at +all, with a refinement that the eye cannot follow, but the feeling only, +as in the Pieta of Genoa,) and Perugino always, even to the gilding of +single hairs among his angel tresses, and the young Raffaelle, when he +was heaven taught, and Angelico, and Pinturicchio, and John Bellini, and +all other such serious and loving men. Only it is to be observed that +this finish is not a part or constituent of beauty, but the full and +ultimate rendering of it, so that it is an idea only connected with the +works of men, for all the works of the Deity are finished with the same, +that is, infinite care and completion: and so what degrees of beauty +exist among them can in no way be dependent upon this source, inasmuch +as there are between them no degrees of care. And therefore, as there +certainly is admitted a difference of degree in what we call chasteness, +even in Divine work, (compare the hollyhock or the sunflower with the +vale lily,) we must seek for it some other explanation and source than +this. + + +§ 5. Moderation, its nature and value + +And if, bringing down our ideas of it from complicated objects to simple +lines and colors, we analyze and regard them carefully, I think we shall +be able to trace them to an under-current of constantly agreeable +feeling, excited by the appearance in material things of a +self-restrained liberty, that is to say, by the image of that acting of +God with regard to all his creation, wherein, though free to operate in +whatever arbitrary, sudden, violent, or inconstant ways he will, he yet, +if we may reverently so speak, restrains in himself this his omnipotent +liberty, and works always in consistent modes, called by us laws. And +this restraint or moderation, according to the words of Hooker, ("that +which doth moderate the force and power, that which doth appoint the +form and measure of working, the same we term a law,") is in the Deity +not restraint, such as it is said of creatures, but, as again says +Hooker, "the very being of God is a law to his working," so that every +appearance of painfulness or want of power and freedom in material +things is wrong and ugly; for the right restraint, the image of Divine +operation, is both in them, and in men, a willing and not painful +stopping short of the utmost degree to which their power might reach, +and the appearance of fettering or confinement is the cause of ugliness +in the one, as the slightest painfulness or effort in restraint is a +sign of sin in the other. + + +§ 6. It is the girdle of beauty. + +§ 7. How found in natural curves and colors. + +§ 8. How difficult of attainment, yet essential to all good. + +I have put this attribute of beauty last, because I consider it the +girdle and safeguard of all the rest, and in this respect the most +essential of all, for it is possible that a certain degree of beauty may +be attained even in the absence of one of its other constituents, as +sometimes in some measure without symmetry or without unity. But the +least appearance of violence or extravagance, of the want of moderation +and restraint, is, I think, destructive of all beauty whatsoever in +everything, color, form, motion, language, or thought, giving rise to +that which in color we call glaring, in form inelegant, in motion +ungraceful, in language coarse, in thought undisciplined, in all +unchastened; which qualities are in everything most painful, because the +signs of disobedient and irregular operation. And herein we at last find +the reason of that which has been so often noted respecting the subtilty +and almost invisibility of natural curves and colors, and why it is that +we look on those lines as least beautiful which fall into wide and far +license of curvature, and as most beautiful which approach nearest (so +that the curvilinear character be distinctly asserted) to the government +of the right line, as in the pure and severe curves of the draperies of +the religious painters; and thus in color it is not red, but rose-color +which is most beautiful, neither such actual green as we find in summer +foliage partly, and in our painting of it constantly; but such gray +green as that into which nature modifies her distant tints, or such pale +green and uncertain as we see in sunset sky, and in the clefts of the +glacier and the chrysoprase, and the sea-foam; and so of all colors, not +that they may not sometimes be deep and full, but that there is a solemn +moderation even in their very fulness, and a holy reference beyond and +out of their own nature to great harmonies by which they are governed, +and in obedience to which is their glory. Whereof the ignorance is shown +in all evil colorists by the violence and positiveness of their hues, +and by dulness and discordance consequent, for the very brilliancy and +real power of all color is dependent on the chastening of it, as of a +voice on its gentleness, and as of action on its calmness, and as all +moral vigor on self-command. And therefore as that virtue which men +last, and with most difficulty attain unto, and which many attain not at +all, and yet that which is essential to the conduct and almost to the +being of all other virtues, since neither imagination, nor invention, +nor industry, nor sensibility, nor energy, nor any other good having, is +of full avail without this of self-command, whereby works truly +masculine and mighty are produced, and by the signs of which they are +separated from that lower host of things brilliant, magnificent and +redundant, and farther yet from that of the loose, the lawless, the +exaggerated, the insolent, and the profane, I would have the necessity +of it foremost among all our inculcating, and the name of it largest +among all our inscribing, in so far that, over the doors of every school +of Art, I would have this one word, relieved out in deep letters of pure +gold,--Moderation. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [29] It is to be carefully noted that when rude execution is + evidently not the result of imperfect feeling and desire (as in + these men above named, it is) but of thought; either impatient, + which there was necessity to note swiftly, or impetuous, which it + was well to note in mighty manner, as pre-eminently and in both + kinds the case with Tintoret, and often with Michael Angelo, and in + lower and more degraded modes with Rubens, and generally in the + sketches and first thoughts of great masters; there is received a + very noble pleasure, connected both with ideas of power (compare + again Part I. Sect. ii. Chap. I.) and with certain actions of the + imagination of which we shall speak presently. But this pleasure is + not received from the beauty of the work, for nothing can be + perfectly beautiful unless complete, but from its simplicity and + sufficiency to its immediate purpose, where the purpose is not of + beauty at all, as often in things rough-hewn, pre-eminently for + instance in the stones of the foundations of the Pitti and Strozzi + palaces, whose noble rudeness is to be opposed both to the useless + polish, and the barbarous rustications of modern times, (although + indeed this instance is not without exception to be received, for + the majesty of these rocky buildings depends also in some measure + upon the real beauty and finish of the natural curvilinear + fractures, opposed to the coarseness of human chiselling,) and + again, as it respects works of higher art, the pleasure of their + hasty or imperfect execution is not indicative of their beauty, but + of their majesty and fulness of thought and vastness of power. Shade + is only beautiful when it magnifies and sets forth the forms of fair + things, so negligence is only noble when it is, as Fuseli hath it, + "the shadow of energy." Which that it may be, secure the substance + and the shade will follow, but let the artist beware of stealing the + manner of giant intellects when he has not their intention, and of + assuming large modes of treatment when he has little thoughts to + treat. There is large difference between indolent impatience of + labor and intellectual impatience of delay, large difference between + leaving things unfinished because we have more to do, or because we + are satisfied with what we have done. Tintoret, who prayed hard, and + hardly obtained, that he might be permitted, the charge of his + colors only being borne, to paint a new built house from base to + battlement, was not one to shun labor, it is the pouring in upon him + of glorious thoughts in inexpressible multitude that his sweeping + hand follows so fast. It is as easy to know the slightness of + earnest haste from the slightness of blunt feeling, indolence, or + affectation, as it is to know the dust of a race, from the dust of + dissolution. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + GENERAL INFERENCES RESPECTING TYPICAL BEAUTY. + + +§ 1. The subject incompletely treated, yet admitting of general + conclusions. + +I have now enumerated, and in some measure explained those +characteristics of mere matter by which I conceive it becomes agreeable +to the theoretic faculty, under whatever form, dead, organized, or +animated, it may present itself. It will be our task in the succeeding +volume to examine, and illustrate by examples, the mode in which these +characteristics appear in every division of creation, in stones, +mountains, waves, clouds, and all organic bodies; beginning with +vegetables, and then taking instances in the range of animals from the +mollusc to man; examining how one animal form is nobler than another, by +the more manifest presence of these attributes, and chiefly endeavoring +to show how much there is of admirable and lovely, even in what is +commonly despised. At present I have only to mark the conclusions at +which we have as yet arrived respecting the rank of the theoretic +faculty, and then to pursue the inquiry farther into the nature of vital +beauty. + +As I before said, I pretend not to have enumerated all the sources of +material beauty, nor the analogies connected with them; it is probable +that others may occur to many readers, or to myself as I proceed into +more particular inquiry, but I am not careful to collect all conceivable +evidence on the subject. I desire only to assert and prove some certain +principles, and by means of these to show, in some measure, the inherent +worthiness and glory of God's works and something of the relations they +bear to each other and to us, leaving the subject to be fully pursued, +as it only can be, by the ardor and affection of those whom it may +interest. + + +§ 2. Typical beauty not created for man's sake. + +§ 3. But degrees of it for his sake admitted. + +§ 4. What encouragement hence to be received. + +The qualities above enumerated are not to be considered as stamped upon +matter for our teaching or enjoyment only, but as the necessary +consequence of the perfection of God's working, and the inevitable stamp +of his image on what he creates. For it would be inconsistent with his +Infinite perfection to work imperfectly in any place, or in any matter; +wherefore we do not find that flowers and fair trees, and kindly skies, +are given only where man may see them and be fed by them, but the Spirit +of God works everywhere alike, where there is no eye to see, covering +all lonely places with an equal glory, using the same pencil and +outpouring the same splendor, in the caves of the waters where the +sea-snakes swim, and in the desert where the satyrs dance, among the +fir-trees of the stork, and the rocks of the conies, as among those +higher creatures whom he has made capable witnesses of his working. +Nevertheless, I think that the admission of different degrees of this +glory and image of himself upon creation, has the look of something +meant especially for us; for although, in pursuance of the appointed +system of government by universal laws, these same degrees exist where +we cannot witness them, yet the existence of degrees at all seems at +first unlikely in Divine work, and I cannot see reason for it unless +that palpable one of increasing in us the understanding of the sacred +characters by showing us the results of their comparative absence. For I +know not that if all things had been equally beautiful, we could have +received the idea of beauty at all, or if we had, certainly it had +become a matter of indifference to us, and of little thought, whereas +through the beneficent ordaining of degrees in its manifestation, the +hearts of men are stirred by its occasional occurrence in its noblest +form, and all their energies are awakened in the pursuit of it, and +endeavor to arrest it or recreate it for themselves. But whatever doubt +there may be respecting the exact amount of modification of created +things admitted reference to us, there can be none respecting the +dignity of that faculty by which we receive the mysterious evidence of +their divine origin. The fact of our deriving constant pleasure from +whatever is a type or semblance of Divine attributes, and from nothing +but that which is so, is the most glorious of all that can be +demonstrated of human nature; it not only sets a great gulf of specific +separation between us and the lower animals, but it seems a promise of a +communion ultimately deep, close, and conscious, with the Being whose +darkened manifestations we here feebly and unthinkingly delight in. +Probably to every order of intelligence more of his image becomes +palpable in all around them, and the glorified spirits and the angels +have perceptions as much more full and rapturous than ours, as ours than +those of beasts and creeping things. And receiving it, as we must, for +an universal axiom that "no natural desire can be entirely frustrate," +and seeing that these desires are indeed so unfailing in us that they +have escaped not the reasoners of any time, but were held divine of old, +and in even heathen countries,[30] it cannot be but that there is in +these visionary pleasures, lightly as we now regard them, cause for +thankfulness, ground for hope, anchor for faith, more than in all the +other manifold gifts and guidances, wherewith God crowns the years, and +hedges the paths of men. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [30] [Greek: Hź dč teleķa eudaimonķa theōrźtikź tķs eotin henérgeia. + * * tois mčn gąr theois apas ho bios makarios, tois d anthrōpois, + eph hoson homoiōma ti tźs toiantźs henergeias hupįrchei. tōn d + hallōn zōōn oudčn čudaimonei. hepeidź oudamź koinōnei + theōrias.]--Arist. Eth. Lib. 10th. The concluding book of the Ethics + should be carefully read. It is all most valuable. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + OF VITAL BEAUTY. FIRST, AS RELATIVE. + + +§ 1. Transition from typical to vital Beauty. + +I proceed more particularly to examine the nature of that second kind of +beauty of which I spoke in the third chapter, as consisting in "the +appearance of felicitous fulfilment of function in living things." I +have already noticed the example of very pure and high typical beauty +which is to be found in the lines and gradations of unsullied snow: if, +passing to the edge of a sheet of it, upon the lower Alps, early in May, +we find, as we are nearly sure to find, two or three little round +openings pierced in it, and through these emergent, a slender, pensive, +fragile flower[31] whose small dark, purple-fringed bell hangs down and +shudders over the icy cleft that it has cloven, as if partly wondering +at its own recent grave, and partly dying of very fatigue after its hard +won victory; we shall be, or we ought to be, moved by a totally +different impression of loveliness from that which we receive among the +dead ice and the idle clouds. There is now uttered to us a call for +sympathy, now offered to us an image of moral purpose and achievement, +which, however unconscious or senseless the creature may indeed be that +so seems to call, cannot be heard without affection, nor contemplated +without worship, by any of us whose heart is rightly tuned, or whose +mind is clearly and surely sighted. + +Throughout the whole of the organic creation every being in a perfect +state exhibits certain appearances, or evidences, of happiness, and +besides is in its nature, its desires, its modes of nourishment, +habitation, and death, illustrative or expressive of certain moral +dispositions or principles. Now, first, in the keenness of the sympathy +which we feel in the happiness, real or apparent, of all organic beings, +and which, as we shall presently see, invariably prompts us, from the +joy we have in it, to look upon those as most lovely which are most +happy; and secondly, in the justness of the moral sense which rightly +reads the lesson they are all intended to teach, and classes them in +orders of worthiness and beauty according to the rank and nature of that +lesson, whether it be of warning or example, of those that wallow or of +those that soar, of the fiend-hunted swine by the Gennesaret lake, or of +the dove returning to its ark of rest; in our right accepting and +reading of all this, consists, I say, the ultimately perfect condition +of that noble theoretic faculty, whose place in the system of our nature +I have already partly vindicated with respect to typical, but which can +only fully be established with respect to vital beauty. + + +§ 2. The perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with vital + beauty, is charity. + +Its first perfection, therefore, relating to vital beauty, is the +kindness and unselfish fulness of heart, which receives the utmost +amount of pleasure from the happiness of all things. Of which in high +degree the heart of man is incapable, neither what intense enjoyment the +angels may have in all that they see of things that move and live, and +in the part they take in the shedding of God's kindness upon them, can +we know or conceive: only in proportion as we draw near to God, and are +made in measure like unto him, can we increase this our possession of +charity, of which the entire essence is in God only. + +Wherefore it is evident that even the ordinary exercise of this faculty +implies a condition of the whole moral being in some measure right and +healthy, and that to the entire exercise of it there is necessary the +entire perfection of the Christian character, for he who loves not God, +nor his brother, cannot love the grass beneath his feet and the +creatures that fill those spaces in the universe which he needs not, and +which live not for his uses; nay, he has seldom grace to be grateful +even to those that love him and serve him, while, on the other hand, +none can love God nor his human brother without loving all things which +his Father loves, nor without looking upon them every one as in that +respect his brethren also, and perhaps worthier than he, if in the under +concords they have to fill, their part is touched more truly. Wherefore +it is good to read of that kindness and humbleness of St. Francis of +Assisi, who spoke never to bird nor to cicala, nor even to wolf and +beast of prey, but as his brother; and so we find are moved the minds of +all good and mighty men, as in the lesson that we have from the Mariner +of Coleridge, and yet more truly and rightly taught in the Heartleap +well, + + "Never to blend our pleasure, or our pride, + With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels," + +and again in the White Doe of Rylstone, with the added teaching of that +gift, which we have from things beneath us, in thanks for the love they +cannot equally return; that anguish of our own, + + "Is tempered and allayed by sympathies, + Aloft ascending and descending deep, + Even to the inferior kinds," + +so that I know not of anything more destructive of the whole theoretic +faculty, not to say of the Christian character and human intellect, than +those accursed sports in which man makes of himself, cat, tiger, +serpent, chaetodon, and alligator in one, and gathers into one +continuance of cruelty for his amusement all the devices that brutes +sparingly and at intervals use against each other for their +necessities.[32] + + +§ 3. Only with respect to plants, less affection than sympathy. + +As we pass from those beings of whose happiness and pain we are certain +to those in which it is doubtful or only seeming, as possibly in +plants, (though I would fain hold, if I might, "the faith that every +flower, enjoys the air it breathes," neither do I ever crush or gather +one without some pain,) yet our feeling for them has in it more of +sympathy than of actual love, as receiving from them in delight far more +than we can give; for love, I think, chiefly grows in giving, at least +its essence is the desire of doing good, or giving happiness, and we +cannot feel the desire of that which we cannot conceive, so that if we +conceive not of a plant as capable of pleasure, we cannot desire to give +it pleasure, that is, we cannot love it in the entire sense of the term. + +Nevertheless, the sympathy of very lofty and sensitive minds usually +reaches so far as to the conception of life in the plant, and so to +love, as with Shelley, of the sensitive plant, and Shakspeare always, as +he has taught us in the sweet voices of Ophelia and Perdita, and +Wordsworth always, as of the daffodils, and the celandine. + + "It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold. + This neither is its courage, nor its choice, + But its necessity in being old,"-- + +and so all other great poets (that is to say, great seers;[33]) nor do I +believe that any mind, however rude, is without some slight perception +or acknowledgment of joyfulness in breathless things, as most certainly +there are none but feel instinctive delight in the appearances of such +enjoyment. + + +§ 4. Which is proportioned to the appearance of energy in the plants. + +For it is matter of easy demonstration, that setting the characters of +typical beauty aside, the pleasure afforded by every organic form is in +proportion to its appearance of healthy vital energy; as in a rose-bush, +setting aside all considerations of gradated flushing of color and fair +folding of line, which it shares with the cloud or the snow-wreath, we +find in and through all this, certain signs pleasant and acceptable as +signs of life and enjoyment in the particular individual plant itself. +Every leaf and stalk is seen to have a function, to be constantly +exercising that function, and as it seems _solely_ for the good and +enjoyment of the plant. It is true that reflection will show us that the +plant is not living for itself alone, that its life is one of +benefaction, that it gives as well as receives, but no sense of this +whatsoever mingles with our perception of physical beauty in its forms. +Those forms which appear to be necessary to its health, the symmetry of +its leaflets, the smoothness of its stalks, the vivid green of its +shoots, are looked upon by us as signs of the plant's own happiness and +perfection; they are useless to us, except as they give us pleasure in +our sympathizing with that of the plant, and if we see a leaf withered +or shrunk or worm-eaten, we say it is ugly, and feel it to be most +painful, not because it hurts _us_, but because it seems to hurt the +plant, and conveys to us an idea of pain and disease and failure of life +in _it_. + +That the amount of pleasure we receive is in exact proportion to the +appearance of vigor and sensibility in the plant, is easily proved by +observing the effect of those which show the evidences of it in the +least degree, as, for instance, any of the cacti not in flower. Their +masses are heavy and simple, their growth slow, their various parts +jointed on one to another, as if they were buckled or pinned together +instead of growing out of each other, (note the singular imposition in +many of them, the prickly pear for instance, of the fruit upon the body +of the plant, so that it looks like a swelling or disease,) and often +farther opposed by harsh truncation of line as in the cactus +truncatophylla. All these circumstances so concur to deprive the plant +of vital evidences, that we receive from it more sense of pain than of +beauty; and yet even here, the sharpness of the angles, the symmetrical +order and strength of the spines, the fresh and even color of the body, +are looked for earnestly as signs of healthy condition, our pain is +increased by their absence, and indefinitely increased if blotches, and +other appearances of bruise and decay interfere with that little life +which the plant seems to possess. + +The same singular characters belong in animals to the crustacea, as to +the lobster, crab, scorpion, etc., and in great measure deprive them of +the beauty which we find in higher orders, so that we are reduced to +look for their beauty to single parts and joints, and not to the whole +animal. + + +§ 5. This sympathy is unselfish, and does not regard utility. + +Now I wish particularly to impress upon the reader that all these +sensations of beauty in the plant arise from our unselfish sympathy with +its happiness, and not from any view of the qualities in it which may +bring good to us, nor even from our acknowledgment in it of any moral +condition beyond that of mere felicity; for such an acknowledgment, +belongs to the second operation of the theoretic faculty (compare § 2,) +and not to the sympathetic part which we are at present examining; so +that we even find that in this respect, the moment we begin to look upon +any creature as subordinate to some purpose out of itself, some of the +sense of organic beauty is lost. Thus, when we are told that the leaves +of a plant are occupied in decomposing carbonic acid, and preparing +oxygen for us, we begin to look upon it with some such indifference as +upon a gasometer. It has become a machine; some of our sense of its +happiness is gone; its emanation of inherent life is no longer pure. The +bending trunk, waving to and fro in the wind above the waterfall, is +beautiful because it is happy, though it is perfectly useless to us. The +same trunk, hewn down and thrown across the stream, has lost its beauty. +It serves as a bridge,--it has become useful; it lives not for itself, +and its beauty is gone, or what it retains is purely typical, dependent +on its lines and colors, not on its functions. Saw it into planks, and +though now adapted to become permanently useful, its whole beauty is +lost forever, or to be regained only in part when decay and ruin shall +have withdrawn it again from use, and left it to receive from the hand +of nature the velvet moss and varied lichen, which may again suggest +ideas of inherent happiness, and tint its mouldering sides with hues of +life. + +There is something, I think, peculiarly beautiful and instructive in +this unselfishness of the theoretic faculty, and in its abhorrence of +all utility which is based on the pain or destruction of any creature, +for in such ministering to each other as is consistent with the essence +and energy of both, it takes delight, as in the clothing of the rock by +the herbage, and the feeding of the herbage by the stream. + + +§ 6. Especially with respect to animals. + +§ 7. And it is destroyed by evidences of mechanism. + +But still more distinct evidence of its being indeed the expression of +happiness to which we look for our first pleasure in organic form, is +to be found in the way in which we regard the bodily frame of animals: +of which it is to be noted first, that there is not anything which +causes so intense and tormenting a sense of ugliness as any scar, wound, +monstrosity, or imperfection which seems inconsistent with the animal's +ease and health; and that although in vegetables, where there is no +immediate sense of pain, we are comparatively little hurt by +excrescences and irregularities, but are sometimes even delighted with +them, and fond of them, as children of the oak-apple, and sometimes look +upon them as more interesting than the uninjured conditions, as in the +gnarled and knotted trunks of trees; yet the slightest approach to +anything of the kind in animal form is regarded with intense horror, +merely from the sense of pain it conveys. And, in the second place, it +is to be noted that whenever we dissect the animal frame, or conceive it +as dissected, and substitute in our ideas the neatness of mechanical +contrivance for the pleasure of the animal; the moment we reduce +enjoyment to ingenuity, and volition to leverage, that instant all sense +of beauty disappears. Take, for instance, the action of the limb of the +ostrich, which is beautiful so long as we see it in its swift uplifting +along the desert sands, and trace in the tread of it her scorn of the +horse and his rider, but would infinitely lose of its impressiveness, if +we could see the spring ligament playing backwards and forwards in +alternate jerks over the tubercle at the hock joint. Take again the +action of the dorsal fin of the shark tribe. So long as we observe the +uniform energy of motion in the whole frame, the lash of the tail, bound +of body, and instantaneous lowering of the dorsal, to avoid the +resistance of the water as it turns, there is high sense of organic +power and beauty. But when we dissect the dorsal, and find that its +superior ray is supported in its position by a peg in a notch at its +base, and that when the fin is to be lowered, the peg has to be taken +out, and when it is raised put in again; although we are filled with +wonder at the ingenuity of the mechanical contrivance, all our sense of +beauty is gone, and not to be recovered until we again see the fin +playing on the animal's body, apparently by its own will alone, with the +life running along its rays. It is by a beautiful ordinance of the +Creator that all these mechanisms are concealed from sight, though open +to investigation, and that in all which is outwardly manifested we seem +to see his presence rather than his workmanship, and the mysterious +breath of life, rather than the manipulation of matter. + +As, therefore, it appears from all evidence that it is the sense of +felicity which we first desire in organic form, it is evident from +reason, as demonstrable by experience, that those forms will be the most +beautiful (always, observe, leaving typical beauty out of the question) +which exhibit most of power, and seem capable of most quick and joyous +sensation. Hence we find gradations of beauty from the apparent +impenetrableness of hide and slow motion of the elephant and rhinoceros, +from the foul occupation of the vulture, from the earthy struggling of +the worm, to the brilliancy of the butterfly, the buoyancy of the lark, +the swiftness of the fawn and the horse, the fair and kingly sensibility +of man. + + +§ 8. The second perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with + life is justice of moral judgment. + +Thus far then, the theoretic faculty is concerned with the happiness of +animals, and its exercise depends on the cultivation of the affections +only. Let us next observe how it is concerned with the moral functions +of animals, and therefore how it is dependent on the cultivation of +every moral sense. There is not any organic creature, but in its history +and habits it shall exemplify or illustrate to us some moral excellence +or deficiency, or some point of God's providential government, which it +is necessary for us to know. Thus the functions and the fates of animals +are distributed to them, with a variety which exhibits to us the dignity +and results of almost every passion and kind of conduct, some filthy and +slothful, pining and unhappy; some rapacious, restless, and cruel; some +ever earnest and laborious, and, I think, unhappy in their endless +labor, creatures, like the bee, that heap up riches and cannot tell who +shall gather them, and others employed like angels in endless offices of +love and praise. Of which when, in right condition of mind, we esteem +those most beautiful, whose functions are the most noble, whether as +some, in mere energy, or as others, in moral honor, so that we look with +hate on the foulness of the sloth, and the subtlety of the adder, and +the rage of the hyena: with the honor due to their earthly wisdom we +invest the earnest ant and unwearied bee; but we look with full +perception of sacred function to the tribes of burning plumage and +choral voice.[34] And so what lesson we might receive for our earthly +conduct from the creeping and laborious things, was taught us by that +earthly king who made silver to be in Jerusalem as stones (yet +thereafter was less rich towards God). But from the lips of an heavenly +King, who had not where to lay his head, we were taught what lesson we +have to learn from those higher creatures who sow not, nor reap, nor +gather into barns, for their Heavenly Father feedeth them. + + +§ 9. How impeded. + +§ 10. The influence of moral signs in expression. + +There is much difficulty in the way of our looking with this rightly +balanced judgment on the moral functions of the animal tribes, owing to +the independent and often opposing characters of typical beauty, which +are among them, as it seems, arbitrarily distributed, so that the most +fierce and cruel are often clothed in the liveliest colors, and +strengthened by the noblest forms, with this only exception, that so far +as I know, there is no high beauty in any slothful animal, but even +among those of prey, its characters exist in exalted measure upon those +that range and pursue, and are in equal degree withdrawn from those that +lie subtly and silently in the covert of the reed and fens. But that +mind only is fully disciplined in its theoretic power, which can, when +it chooses, throwing off the sympathies and repugnancies with which the +ideas of destructiveness or of innocence accustom us to regard the +animal tribes, as well as those meaner likes and dislikes which arise, I +think, from the greater or less resemblance of animal powers to our own, +can pursue the pleasures of typical beauty down to the scales of the +alligator, the coils of the serpent, and the joints of the beetle; and +again, on the other hand, regardless of the impressions of typical +beauty, accept from each creature, great or small, the more important +lessons taught by its position in creation as sufferer or chastiser, as +lowly or having dominion, as of foul habit or lofty aspiration, and from +the several perfections which all illustrate or possess, courage, +perseverance, industry, or intelligence, or, higher yet, of love and +patience, and fidelity and rejoicing, and never wearied praise. Which +moral perfections that they indeed are productive, in proportion to +their expression, of instant beauty instinctively felt, is best proved +by comparing those parts of animals in which they are definitely +expressed, as for instance the eye, of which we shall find those ugliest +which have in them no expression nor life whatever, but a corpse-like +stare, or an indefinite meaningless glaring, as in some lights, those of +owls and cats, and mostly of insects and of all creatures in which the +eye seems rather an external, optical instrument than a bodily member +through which emotion and virtue of soul may be expressed, (as +pre-eminently in the chameleon,) because the seeming want of sensibility +and vitality in a living creature is the most painful of all wants. And +next to these in ugliness come the eyes that gain vitality indeed, but +only by means of the expression of intense malignity, as in the serpent +and alligator; and next to these, to whose malignity is added the virtue +of subtlety and keenness, as of the lynx and hawk; and then, by +diminishing the malignity and increasing the expressions of +comprehensiveness and determination, we arrive at those of the lion and +eagle, and at last, by destroying malignity altogether, at the fair eye +of the herbivorous tribes, wherein the superioity of beauty consists +always in the greater or less sweetness and gentleness primarily, as in +the gazelle, camel, and ox, and in the greater or less intellect, +secondarily, as in the horse and dog, and finally, in gentleness and +intellect both in man. And again, taking the mouth, another source of +expression, we find it ugliest where it has none, as mostly in fish, or +perhaps where without gaining much in expression of any kind, it becomes +a formidable destructive instrument, as again in the alligator, and +then, by some increase of expression, we arrive at birds' beaks, wherein +there is more obtained by the different ways of setting on the mandibles +than is commonly supposed, (compare the bills of the duck and the +eagle,) and thence we reach the finely developed lips of the carnivora, +which nevertheless lose that beauty they have, in the actions of +snarling and biting, and from these we pass to the nobler because +gentler and more sensible, of the horse, camel, and fawn, and so again +up to man, only there is less traceableness of the principle in the +mouths of the lower animals, because they are in slight measure only +capable of expression, and chiefly used as instruments, and that of low +function, whereas in man the mouth is given most definitely as a means +of expression, beyond and above its lower functions. Compare the remarks +of Sir Charles Bell on this subject in his Essay on Expression, and +compare the mouth of the negro head given by him (p. 28, third edition) +with that of Raffaelle's St. Catherine. I shall illustrate the subject +farther hereafter by giving the mouth of one of the demons of Orcagna's +Inferno, with projecting incisors, and that of a fish and a swine, in +opposition to pure graminivorous and human forms; but at present it is +sufficient for my purpose to insist on the single great principle, that, +wherever expression is possible, and uninterfered with by characters of +typical beauty, which confuse the subject exceedingly as regards the +mouth, (for the typical beauty of the carnivorous lips is on a grand +scale, while it exists in very low degree in the beaks of birds,) +wherever, I say, these considerations do not interfere, the beauty of +the animal form is in exact proportion to the amount of moral or +intellectual virtue expressed by it; and wherever beauty exists at all, +there is some kind of virtue to which it is owing, as the majesty of the +lion's eye is owing not to its ferocity, but to its seriousness and +seeming intellect, and of the lion's mouth to its strength and +sensibility, and not its gnashing of teeth, nor wrinkling in its wrath; +and farther be it noted, that of the intellectual or moral virtues, the +moral are those which are attended with most beauty, so that the gentle +eye of the gazelle is fairer to look upon than the more keen glance of +men, if it be unkind. + + +§ 11. As also in plants. + +Of the parallel effects of expression upon plants there is little to be +noted, as the mere naming of the subject cannot but bring countless +illustrations to the mind of every reader: only this, that, as we saw +they were less susceptible of our sympathetic love, owing to the absence +in them of capability of enjoyment, so they are less open to the +affections based upon the expression of moral virtue, owing to their +want of volition; so that even on those of them which are deadly and +unkind we look not without pleasure, the more because this their evil +operation cannot be by them outwardly expressed, but only by us +empirically known; so that of the outward seemings and expressions of +plants, there are few but are in some way good and therefore beautiful, +as of humility, and modesty, and love of places and things, in the +reaching out of their arms, and clasping of their tendrils; and energy +of resistance, and patience of suffering, and beneficence one towards +another in shade and protection, and to us also in scents and fruits +(for of their healing virtues, however important to us, there is no more +outward sense nor seeming than of their properties mortal or dangerous). + + +§ 12 Recapitulation. + +Whence, in fine, looking to the whole kingdom of organic nature, we find +that our full receiving of its beauty depends first on the sensibility +and then on the accuracy and touchstone faithfulness of the heart in its +moral judgments, so that it is necessary that we should not only love +all creatures well, but esteem them in that order which is according to +God's laws and not according to our own human passions and +predilections, not looking for swiftness, and strength, and cunning, +rather than for patience and kindness, still less delighting in their +animosity and cruelty one towards another, neither, if it may be +avoided, interfering with the working of nature in any way, nor, when we +interfere to obtain service, judging from the morbid conditions of the +animal or vegetable so induced; for we see every day the theoretic +faculty entirely destroyed in those who are interested in particular +animals, by their delight in the results of their own teaching, and by +the vain straining of curiosity for new forms such as nature never +intended, as the disgusting types for instance, which we see earnestly +sought for by the fanciers of rabbits and pigeons, and constantly in +horses, substituting for the true and balanced beauty of the free +creature some morbid development of a single power, as of swiftness in +the racer, at the expense, in certain measure, of the animal's healthy +constitution and fineness of form; and so the delight of horticulturists +in the spoiling of plants; so that in all cases we are to beware of such +opinions as seem in any way referable to human pride, or even to the +grateful or pernicious influence of things upon ourselves, and to cast +the mind free, and out of ourselves, humbly, and yet always in that +noble position of pause above the other visible creatures, nearer God +than they, which we authoritatively hold, thence looking down upon them, +and testing the clearness of our moral vision by the extent, and +fulness, and constancy of our pleasure in the light of God's love as it +embraces them, and the harmony of his holy laws, that forever bring +mercy out of rapine, and religion out of wrath. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [31] Soldanella Alpina. + + [32] I would have Mr. Landseer, before he gives us any more writhing + otters, or yelping packs, reflect whether that which is best worthy + of contemplation in a hound be its ferocity, or in an otter its + agony, or in a human being its victory, hardly achieved even with + the aid of its more sagacious brutal allies over a poor little + fish-catching creature, a foot long. + + [33] Compare Milton. + + "They at her coming sprung + And touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew" + + [34] "Type of the wise--who soar, but never roam, + True to the kindred points of heaven and home." + (WORDSWORTH.--To the Skylark.) + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + OF VITAL BEAUTY.--SECONDLY AS GENERIC. + + +§ 1. The beauty of fulfilment of appointed function in every animal. + +Hitherto we have observed the conclusions of the theoretic faculty with +respect to the relations of happiness, and of more or less exalted +function existing between different orders of organic being. But we must +pursue the inquiry farther yet, and observe what impressions of beauty +are connected with more or less perfect fulfilment of the appointed +function by different individuals of the same species. We are now no +longer called to pronounce upon worthiness of occupation or dignity of +disposition; but both employment and capacity being known, and the +animal's position and duty fixed, we have to regard it in that respect +alone, comparing it with other individuals of its species, and to +determine how far it worthily executes its office; whether, if scorpion, +it hath poison enough, or if tiger, strength enough, or if dove, +innocence enough, to sustain rightly its place in creation, and come up +to the perfect idea of dove, tiger, or scorpion. + +In the first or sympathetic operation of the theoretic faculty, it will +be remembered, we receive pleasure from the signs of mere happiness in +living things. In the second theoretic operation of comparing and +judging, we constituted ourselves such judges of the lower creatures as +Adam was made by God when they were brought to him to be named, and we +allowed of beauty in them as they reached, more or less, to that +standard of moral perfection by which we test ourselves. But, in the +third place, we are to come down again from the judgment seat, and +taking it for granted that every creature of God is in some way good, +and has a duty and specific operation providentially accessory to the +well-being of all, we are to look in this faith to that employment and +nature of each, and to derive pleasure from their entire perfection and +fitness for the duty they have to do, and in their entire fulfilment of +it: and so we are to take pleasure and find beauty in the magnificent +binding together of the jaws of the ichthyosaurus for catching and +holding, and in the adaptation of the lion for springing, and of the +locust for destroying, and of the lark for singing, and in every +creature for the doing of that which God has made it to do. Which +faithful pleasure in the perception of the perfect operation of lower +creatures I have placed last among the perfections of the theoretic +faculty concerning them, because it is commonly last acquired, both +owing to the humbleness and trustfulness of heart which it demands, and +because it implies a knowledge of the habits and structure of every +creature, such as we can but imperfectly possess. + + +§ 2. The two senses of the word "ideal." Either it refers to action of + the imagination. + +The perfect _idea_ of the form and condition in which all the properties +of the species are fully developed, is called the ideal of the species. +The question of the nature of ideal conception of species, and of the +mode in which the mind arrives at it, has been the subject of so much +discussion, and source of so much embarrassment, chiefly owing to that +unfortunate distinction between idealism and realism which leads most +people to imagine the ideal opposed to the real, and therefore _false_, +that I think it necessary to request the reader's most careful attention +to the following positions. + +Any work of art which represents, not a material object, but the mental +conception of a material object, is, in the primary sense of the word +ideal; that is to say, it represents an idea, and not a thing. Any work +of art which represents or realizes a material object, is, in the +primary sense of the term, unideal. + +Ideal works of art, therefore, in this first sense, represent the result +of an act of imagination, and are good or bad in proportion to the +healthy condition and general power of the imagination, whose acts they +represent. + +Unideal works of art (the studious production of which is termed +realism) represent actual existing things, and are good or bad in +proportion to the perfection of the representation. + +All entirely bad works of art may be divided into those which, +professing to be imaginative, bear no stamp of imagination, and are +therefore false, and those which, professing to be representative of +matter, miss of the representation and are therefore nugatory. + +It is the habit of most observers to regard art as representative of +matter, and to look only for the entireness of representation; and it +was to this view of art that I limited the arguments of the former +sections of the present work, wherein having to oppose the conclusions +of a criticism entirely based upon the realist system, I was compelled +to meet that criticism on its own grounds. But the greater part of works +of art, more especially those devoted to the expression of ideas of +beauty, are the results of the agency of imagination, their worthiness +depending, as above stated, on the healthy condition of the imagination. + +Hence it is necessary for us, in order to arrive at conclusions +respecting the worthiness of such works, to define and examine the +nature of the imaginative faculty, and to determine first what are the +signs or conditions of its existence at all; and secondly, what are the +evidences of its healthy and efficient existence, upon which examination +I shall enter in the second section of the present part. + + +§ 3. Or to perfection of type. + +But there is another sense of the word ideal besides this, and it is +that with which we are here concerned. It is evident that, so long as we +use the word to signify that art which represents ideas and not things, +we may use it as truly of the art which represents an idea of Caliban, +and not real Caliban, as of the art which represents an idea of +Antinous, and not real Antinous. For that is as much imagination which +conceives the monster as which conceives the man. If, however, Caliban +and Antinous be creatures of the same species, and the form of the one +contain not the fully developed types or characters of the species, +while the form of the other presents the greater part of them, then the +latter is said to be a form more ideal than the other, as a nearer +approximation to the general idea or conception of the species. + + +§ 4. This last sense how inaccurate, yet to be retained. + +Now it is evident that this use of the word ideal is much less accurate +than the other, from which it is derived, for it rests on the assumption +that the assemblage of all the characters of a species in their perfect +development cannot exist but in the imagination. For if it can actually +and in reality exist, it is not right to call it ideal or imaginary; it +would be better to call it characteristic or general, and to reserve the +word ideal for the results of the operation of the imagination, either +on the perfect or imperfect forms. + +Nevertheless, the word ideal has been so long and universally accepted +in this sense, that I think it better to continue the use of it, so only +that the reader will be careful to observe the distinction in the sense, +according to the subject matter under discussion. At present then, using +it as expressive of the noble generic form which indicates the full +perfection of the creature in all its functions, I wish to examine how +far this perception exists or may exist in nature, and if not in nature, +how it is by us discoverable or imaginable. + + +§ 5. Of Ideal form. First, in the lower animals. + +Now it is better, when we wish to arrive at truth, always to take +familiar instances, wherein the mind is not likely to be biassed by any +elevated associations or favorite theories. Let us ask therefore, first, +what kind of ideal form may be attributed to a limpet or an oyster, that +is to say, whether all oysters do or do not come up to the entire notion +or idea of an oyster. I apprehend that, although in respect of size, +age, and kind of feeding, there may be some difference between them, yet +of those which are of full size and healthy condition there will be +found many which fulfil the conditions of an oyster in every respect, +and that so perfectly, that we could not, by combining the features of +two or more together, produce a more perfect oyster than any that we +see. I suppose also, that, out of a number of healthy fish, birds, or +beasts of the same species, it would not be easy to select an individual +as superior to _all_ the rest; neither by comparing two or more of the +nobler examples together, to arrive at the conception of a form superior +to that of either; but that, though the accidents of more abundant food +or more fitting habitation may induce among them some varieties of size, +strength, and color, yet the entire generic form would be presented by +many, neither would any art be able to add to or diminish from it. + + +§ 6. In what consistent. + +It is, therefore, hardly right to use the word ideal of the generic +forms of these creatures, of which we see actual examples; but if we are +to use it, then be it distinctly understood that their ideality consists +in the full development of all the powers and properties of the creature +as such, and is inconsistent with accidental or imperfect developments, +and even with great variation from average size, the ideal size being +neither gigantic nor diminutive, but the utmost grandeur and entireness +of proportion at a certain point above the mean size; for as more +individuals always fall short of generic size than rise above it, the +generic is above the average or mean size. And this perfection of the +creature invariably involves the utmost possible degree of all those +properties of beauty, both typical and vital, which it is appointed to +possess. + + +§ 7. Ideal form in vegetables. + +Let us next observe the conditions of ideality in vegetables. Out of a +large number of primroses or violets, I apprehend that, although one or +two might be larger than all the rest, the greater part would be very +sufficient primroses and violets. And that we could, by no study nor +combination of violets, conceive of a better violet than many in the +bed. And so generally of the blossoms and separate members of all +vegetables. + +But among the entire forms of the complex vegetables, as of oak-trees, +for instance, there exists very large and constant difference, some +being what we hold to be fine oaks, as in parks, and places where they +are taken care of, and have their own way, and some are but poor and +mean oaks, which have had no one to take care of them, but have been +obliged to maintain themselves. + +That which we have to determine is, whether ideality be predicable of +the fine oaks only, or whether the poor and mean oaks also may be +considered as ideal, that is, coming up to the conditions of oak, and +the general notion of oak. + + +§ 8. The difference of position between plants and animals. + +Now there is this difference between the positions held in creation by +animals and plants, and thence in the dispositions with which we regard +them; that the animals, being for the most part locomotive, are capable +both of living where they choose, and of obtaining what food they want, +and of fulfilling all the conditions necessary to their health and +perfection. For which reason they are answerable for such health and +perfection, and we should be displeased and hurt if we did not find it +in one individual as well as another. + + +§ 9. Admits of variety in the ideal of the former. + +But the case is evidently different with plants. They are intended +fixedly to occupy many places comparatively unfit for them, and to fill +up all the spaces where greenness, and coolness, and ornament, and +oxygen are wanted, and that with very little reference to their comfort +or convenience. Now it would be hard upon the plant if, after being tied +to a particular spot, where it is indeed much wanted, and is a great +blessing, but where it has enough to do to live, whence it cannot move +to obtain what it wants or likes, but must stretch its unfortunate arms +here and there for bare breath and light, and split its way among rocks, +and grope for sustenance in unkindly soil; it would be hard upon the +plant, I say, if under all these disadvantages, it were made answerable +for its appearance, and found fault with because it was not a fine plant +of the kind. And so we find it ordained that in order that no unkind +comparisons may be drawn between one and another, there are not +appointed to plants the fixed number, position, and proportion of +members which are ordained in animals, (and any variation from which in +these is unpardonable,) but a continually varying number and position, +even among the more freely growing examples, admitting therefore all +kinds of license to those which have enemies to contend with, and that +without in any way detracting from their dignity and perfection. + +So then there is in trees no perfect form which can be fixed upon or +reasoned out as ideal; but that is always an ideal oak which, however +poverty-stricken, or hunger-pinched, or tempest-tortured, is yet seen to +have done, under its appointed circumstances, all that could be expected +of oak. + +The ideal, therefore, of the park oak is that to which I alluded in the +conclusion of the former part of this work, full size, united terminal +curve, equal and symmetrical range of branches on each side. The ideal +of the mountain oak may be anything, twisting, and leaning, and +shattered, and rock-encumbered, so only that amidst all its misfortunes, +it maintain the dignity of oak; and, indeed, I look upon this kind of +tree as more ideal than the other, in so far as by its efforts and +struggles, more of its nature, enduring power, patience in waiting for, +and ingenuity in obtaining what it wants, is brought out, and so more of +the essence of oak exhibited, than under more fortunate conditions. + + +§ 10. Ideal form in vegetables destroyed by cultivation. + +And herein, then, we at last find the cause of that fact which we have +twice already noted, that the exalted or seemingly improved condition, +whether of plant or animal, induced by human interference, is not the +true and artistical ideal of it.[35] It has been well shown by Dr. +Herbert,[36] that many plants are found alone on a certain soil or +subsoil in a wild state, not because such soil is favorable to them, but +because they alone are capable of existing on it, and because all +dangerous rivals are by its inhospitality removed. Now if we withdraw +the plant from this position, which it hardly endures, and supply it +with the earth, and maintain about it the temperature that it delights +in; withdrawing from it at the same time all rivals which, in such +conditions nature would have thrust upon it, we shall indeed obtain a +magnificently developed example of the plant, colossal in size, and +splendid in organization, but we shall utterly lose in it that moral +ideal which is dependent on its right fulfilment of its appointed +functions. It was intended and created by the Deity for the covering of +those lonely spots where no other plant could live; it has been thereto +endowed with courage, and strength, and capacities of endurance +unequalled; its character and glory are not therefore in the gluttonous +and idle feeling of its own over luxuriance, at the expense of other +creatures utterly destroyed and rooted out for its good alone, but in +its right doing of its hard duty; and forward climbing into those spots +of forlorn hope where it alone can bear witness to the kindness and +presence of the Spirit that cutteth out rivers among the rocks, as it +covers the valleys with corn: and there, in its vanward place, and only +there, where nothing is withdrawn for it, nor hurt by it, and where +nothing can take part of its honor, nor usurp its throne, are its +strength, and fairness, and price, and goodness in the sight of God, to +be truly esteemed. + + +§ 11. Instance in the Soldanella and Ranunculus. + +The first time that I saw the soldanella alpina, before spoken of, it +was growing, of magnificent size, on a sunny Alpine pasture, among +bleating of sheep and lowing of cattle, associated with a profusion of +geum montanum, and ranunculus pyrenęus. I noticed it only because new to +me, nor perceived any peculiar beauty in its cloven flower. Some days +after, I found it alone, among the rack of the higher clouds, and +howling of glacier winds, and, as I described it, piercing through an +edge of avalanche, which in its retiring had left the new ground brown +and lifeless, and as if burned by recent fire; the plant was poor and +feeble, and seemingly exhausted with its efforts, but it was then that I +comprehended its ideal character, and saw its noble function and order +of glory among the constellations of the earth. + +The ranunculus glacialis might perhaps, by cultivation, be blanched from +its wan and corpse-like paleness to purer white, and won to more +branched and lofty development of its ragged leaves. But the ideal of +the plant is to be found only in the last, loose stones of the moraine, +alone there; wet with the cold, unkindly drip of the glacier water, and +trembling as the loose and steep dust to which it clings yields ever and +anon, and shudders and crumbles away from about its root. + + +§ 12. The beauty of repose and felicity, how consistent with such ideal. + +And if it be asked how this conception of the utmost beauty of ideal +form is consistent with what we formerly argued respecting the +pleasantness of the appearance of felicity in the creature, let it be +observed, and forever held, that the right and true happiness of every +creature, is in this very discharge of its function, and in those +efforts by which its strength and inherent energy are developed: and +that the repose of which we also spoke as necessary to all beauty, is, +as was then stated, repose not of inanition, nor of luxury, nor of +irresolution, but the repose of magnificent energy and being; in action, +the calmness of trust and determination; in rest, the consciousness of +duty accomplished and of victory won, and this repose and this felicity +can take place as well in the midst of trial and tempest, as beside the +waters of comfort; they perish only when the creature is either +unfaithful to itself, or is afflicted by circumstances unnatural and +malignant to its being, and for the contending with which it was neither +fitted nor ordained. Hence that rest which is indeed glorious is of the +chamois couched breathless on his granite bed, not of the stalled ox +over his fodder, and that happiness which is indeed beautiful is in the +bearing of those trial tests which are appointed for the proving of +every creature, whether it be good, or whether it be evil; and in the +fulfilment to the uttermost of every command it has received, and the +out-carrying to the uttermost of every power and gift it has gotten from +its God. + + +§ 13. The ideality of Art. + +Therefore the task of the painter in his pursuit of ideal form is to +attain accurate knowledge, so far as may be in his power, of the +character, habits, and peculiar virtues and duties of every species of +being; down even to the stone, for there is an ideality of stones +according to their kind, an ideality of granite and slate and marble, +and it is in the utmost and most exalted exhibition of such individual +character, order, and use, that all ideality of art consists. The more +cautious he is in assigning the right species of moss to its favorite +trunk, and the right kind of weed to its necessary stone, in marking the +definite and characteristic leaf, blossom, seed, fracture, color, and +inward anatomy of everything, the more truly ideal his work becomes. All +confusion of species, all careless rendering of character, all unnatural +and arbitrary association, is vulgar and unideal in proportion to its +degree. + + +§ 14. How connected with the imaginative faculties. + +It is to be noted, however, that nature sometimes in a measure herself +conceals these generic differences, and that when she displays them it +is commonly on a scale too small for human hand to follow. + +The pursuit and seizure of the generic differences in their concealment, +and the display of them on a larger and more palpable scale, is one of +the wholesome and healthy operations of the imagination of which we are +presently to speak.[37] + +Generic differences being commonly exhibited by art in different manner +and way from that of their natural occurrence, are in this respect more +strictly and truly ideal in art than in reality. + + +§ 15. Ideality, how belonging to ages and conditions. + +This only remains to be noted, that, of all creatures whose existence +involves birth, progress, and dissolution, ideality is predicable all +through their existence, so that they be perfect with reference to their +supposed period of being. Thus there is an ideal of infancy, of youth, +of old age, of death, and of decay. But when the ideal form of the +species is spoken of or conceived in general terms, the form is +understood to be of that period when the generic attributes are +perfectly developed, and previous to the commencement of their decline. +At which period all the characters of vital and typical beauty are +commonly most concentrated in them, though the arrangement and +proportion of these characters varies at different periods, youth having +more of the vigorous beauty, and age of the reposing; youth of typical +outward fairness, and age of expanded and etherealized moral expression; +the babe, again, in some measure atoning in gracefulness for its want of +strength, so that the balanced glory of the creature continues in solemn +interchange, perhaps even + + "Filling more and more with crystal light, + As pensive evening deepens into night." + +Hitherto, however, we have confined ourselves to the examination of +ideal form in the lower animals, and we have found that, to arrive at +it, no combination of forms nor exertion of fancy is required, but only +simple choice among those naturally presented, together with careful +investigation and anatomizing of the habits of the creatures. I fear we +shall arrive at a very different conclusion, in considering the ideal +form of man. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [35] I speak not here of those conditions of vegetation which have + especial reference to man, as of seeds and fruits, whose sweetness + and farina seem in great measure given, not for the plant's sake, + but for his, and to which therefore the interruption in the harmony + of creation of which he was the cause is extended, and their + sweetness and larger measure of good to be obtained only by his + redeeming labor. His curse has fallen on the corn and the vine, and + the wild barley misses of its fulness, that he may eat bread by the + sweat of his brow. + + [36] Journal of the Horticultural Society. Part I. + + [37] Compare Sect. II. Chap. IV. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + OF VITAL BEAUTY.--THIRDLY, IN MAN. + + +§ 1. Condition of the human creature entirely different from that of the + lower animals. + +Having thus passed gradually through all the orders and fields of +creation, and traversed that goodly line of God's happy creatures who +"leap not, but express a feast, where all the guests sit close, and +nothing wants," without finding any deficiency which human invention +might supply, nor any harm which human interference might mend, we come +at last to set ourselves face to face with ourselves, expecting that in +creatures made after the image of God we are to find comeliness and +completion more exquisite than in the fowls of the air and the things +that pass through the paths of the sea. + +But behold now a sudden change from all former experience. No longer +among the individuals of the race is there equality or likeness, a +distributed fairness and fixed type visible in each, but evil diversity, +and terrible stamp of various degradation; features seamed with +sickness, dimmed by sensuality, convulsed by passion, pinched by +poverty, shadowed by sorrow, branded with remorse; bodies consumed with +sloth, broken down by labor, tortured by disease, dishonored in foul +uses; intellects without power, hearts without hope, minds earthly and +devilish; our bones full of the sin of our youth, the heaven revealing +our iniquity, the earth rising up against us, the roots dried up +beneath, and the branch cut off above; well for us only, if, after +beholding this our natural face in a glass, we desire not straightway to +forget what manner of men we be. + + +§ 2. What room here for idealization. + +Herein there is at last something, and too much, for that short stopping +intelligence and dull perception of ours to accomplish, whether in +earnest fact, or in the seeking for the outward image of beauty:--to +undo the devil's work, to restore to the body the grace and the power +which inherited disease has destroyed, to return to the spirit the +purity, and to the intellect the grasp that they had in Paradise. Now, +first of all, this work, be it observed is in no respect a work of +imagination. Wrecked we are, and nearly all to pieces; but that little +good by which we are to redeem ourselves is to be got out of the old +wreck, beaten about and full of sand though it be; and not out of that +desert island of pride on which the devils split first, and we after +them: and so the only restoration of the body that we can reach is not +to be coined out of our fancies, but to be collected out of such +uninjured and bright vestiges of the old seal as we can find and set +together, and so the ideal of the features, as the good and perfect soul +is seen in them, is not to be reached by imagination, but by the seeing +and reaching forth of the better part of the soul to that of which it +must first know the sweetness and goodness in itself, before it can much +desire, or rightly find, the signs of it in others. + +I say much desire and rightly find, because there is not any soul so +sunk but that it shall in some measure feel the impression of mental +beauty in the human features, and detest in others its own likeness, and +in itself despise that which of itself it has made. + + +§ 3. How the conception of the bodily ideal is reached. + +Now, of the ordinary process by which the realization of ideal bodily +form is reached, there is explanation enough in all treatises on art, +and it is so far well comprehended that I need not stay long to consider +it. So far as the sight and knowledge of the human form, of the purest +race, exercised from infancy constantly, but not excessively in all +exercises of dignity, not in twists and straining dexterities, but in +natural exercises of running, casting, or riding; practised in +endurance, not of extraordinary hardship, for that hardens and degrades +the body, but of natural hardship, vicissitudes of winter and summer, +and cold and heat, yet in a climate where none of these are severe; +surrounded also by a certain degree of right luxury, so as to soften and +refine the forms of strength; so far as the sight of all this could +render the mental intelligence of what is right in human form so acute +as to be able to abstract and combine from the best examples so +produced, that which was most perfect in each, so far the Greek +conceived and attained the ideal of bodily form: and on the Greek modes +of attaining it, as well as on what he produced, as a perfect example of +it, chiefly dwell those writers whose opinions on this subject I have +collected; wholly losing sight of what seems to me the most important +branch of the inquiry, namely, the influence for good or evil of the +mind upon the bodily shape, the wreck of the mind itself, and the modes +by which we may conceive of its restoration. + + +§ 4. Modifications of the bodily ideal owing to influence of mind. + First, of intellect. + +Now, the operation of the mind upon the body, and evidence of it +thereon, may be considered under the following three general heads. + +First, the operation of the intellectual powers upon the features, in +the fine cutting and chiselling of them, and removal from them of signs +of sensuality and sloth, by which they are blunted and deadened, and +substitution of energy and intensity for vacancy and insipidity, (by +which wants alone the faces of many fair women are utterly spoiled and +rendered valueless,) and by the keenness given to the eye and fine +moulding and development to the brow, of which effects Sir Charles Bell +has well noted the desirableness and opposition to brutal types, (p. 59, +third edition;) only this he has not sufficiently observed, that there +are certain virtues of the intellect in measure inconsistent with each +other, as perhaps great subtlety with great comprehensiveness, and high +analytical with high imaginative power, or that at least, if consistent +and compatible, their signs upon the features are not the same, so that +the outward form cannot express both, without in a measure expressing +neither; and so there are certain separate virtues of the outward form +correspondent with the more constant employment or more prevailing +capacity of the brain, as the piercing keenness, or open and reflective +comprehensiveness of the eye and forehead, and that all these virtues of +form are ideal, only those the most so which are the signs of the +worthiest powers of intellect, though which these be, we will not at +present stay to inquire. + + +§ 5. Secondly, of the moral feelings. + +§ 6. What beauty is bestowed by them + +The second point to be considered in the influence of mind upon body, is +the mode of operation and conjunction of the moral feelings on and with +the intellectual powers, and then their conjoint influence on the bodily +form. Now, the operation of the right moral feelings on the intellect is +always for the good of the latter, for it is not possible that +selfishness should reason rightly in any respect, but must be blind in +its estimation of the worthiness of all things, neither anger, for that +overpowers the reason or outcries it, neither sensuality, for that +overgrows and chokes it, neither agitation, for that has no time to +compare things together, neither enmity, for that must be unjust, +neither fear, for that exaggerates all things, neither cunning and +deceit, for that which is voluntarily untrue will soon be unwittingly +so: but the great reasoners are self-command, and trust unagitated, and +deep-looking Love, and Faith, which as she is above Reason, so she best +holds the reins of it from her high seat: so that they err grossly who +think of the right development even of the intellectual type as +possible, unless we look to higher sources of beauty first. +Nevertheless, though in their operation _upon_ them the moral feelings +are thus elevatory of the mental faculties, yet in their conjunction +_with_ them they seem to occupy, in their own fulness, such room as to +absorb and overshadow all else, so that the simultaneous exercise of +both is in a sort impossible; for which cause we occasionally find the +moral part in full development and action, without corresponding +expanding of the intellect (though never without healthy condition of +it,) as in that of Wordsworth, + + "In such high hour + Of visitation from the Living God, + Thought was not;" + +only I think that if we look far enough, we shall find that it is not +intelligence itself, but the immediate act and effort of a laborious, +struggling, and imperfect intellectual faculty, with which high moral +emotion is inconsistent; and that though we cannot, while we feel +deeply, reason shrewdly, yet I doubt if, _except_ when we feel deeply, +we can ever comprehend fully; so that it is only the climbing and +mole-like piercing, and not the sitting upon their central throne, nor +emergence into light, of the intellectual faculties which the full heart +feeling allows not. Hence, therefore, in the indications of the +countenance, they are only the hard cut lines, and rigid settings, and +wasted hollows, that speak of past effort and painfulness of mental +application, which are inconsistent with expression of moral feeling, +for all these are of infelicitous augury; but not the full and serene +development of habitual command in the look, and solemn thought in the +brow, only these, in their unison with the signs of emotion, become +softened and gradually confounded with a serenity and authority of +nobler origin. But of the sweetness which that higher serenity (of +happiness,) and the dignity which that higher authority (of Divine law, +and not human reason,) can and must stamp on the features, it would be +futile to speak here at length, for I suppose that both are acknowledged +on all hands, and that there is not any beauty but theirs to which men +pay long obedience: at all events, if not by sympathy discovered, it is +not in words explicable with what divine lines and lights the exercise +of godliness and charity will mould and gild the hardest and coldest +countenance, neither to what darkness their departure will consign the +loveliest. For there is not any virtue the exercise of which, even +momentarily, will not impress a new fairness upon the features, neither +on them only, but on the whole body, both the intelligence and the moral +faculties have operation, for even all the movement and gestures, +however slight, are different in their modes according to the mind that +governs them, and on the gentleness and decision of just feeling there +follows a grace of action, and through continuance of this a grace of +form, which by no discipline may be taught or attained. + + +§ 7. How the soul culture interferes harmfully with the bodily ideal. + +The third point to be considered with respect to the corporeal +expression of mental character is, that there is a certain period of the +soul culture when it begins to interfere with some of the characters of +typical beauty belonging to the bodily frame, the stirring of the +intellect wearing down the flesh, and the moral enthusiasm burning its +way out to heaven, through the emaciation of the earthen vessel; and +that there is, in this indication of subduing of the mortal by the +immortal part, an ideal glory of perhaps a purer and higher range than +that of the more perfect material form. We conceive, I think, more nobly +of the weak presence of Paul, than of the fair and ruddy countenance of +Daniel. + + +§ 8. The inconsistency among the effects of the mental virtues on the + form. + +§ 9. Is a sign of God's kind purpose towards the race. + +§ 10. Consequent separation and difference of ideals. + +Now, be it observed that in our consideration of these three directions +of mental influence, we have several times been compelled to stop short +of definite conclusions owing to the apparent inconsistency of certain +excellences and beauties to which they tend, as, first, of different +kinds of intellect with each other; and secondly, of the moral faculties +with the intellectual, (and if we had separately examined the moral +emotions, we should have found certain inconsistencies among them also,) +and again of the soul culture generally with the bodily perfections. +Such inconsistencies we should find in the perfections of no other +animal. The strength or swiftness of the dog are not inconsistent with +his sagacity, nor is bodily labor in the ant or bee destructive of their +acuteness of instinct. And this peculiarity of relation among the +perfections of man is no result of his fall or sinfulness, but an +evidence of his greater nobility, and of the goodness of God towards +him. For the individuals of each race of lower animals, being not +intended to hold among each other those relations of charity which are +the privilege of humanity, are not adapted to each other's assistance, +admiration, or support, by differences of power and function. But the +love of the human race is increased by their individual differences, and +the unity of the creature, as before we saw of all unity, made perfect +by each having something to bestow and to receive, bound to the rest by +a thousand various necessities and various gratitudes, humility in each +rejoicing to admire in his fellow that which he finds not in himself, +and each being in some respect the complement of his race. Therefore, in +investigating the signs of the ideal or perfect type of humanity, we +must not presume on the singleness of that type, and yet, on the other +hand, we must cautiously distinguish between differences conceivably +existing in a perfect state, and differences resulting from immediate +and present operation of the Adamite curse. Of which the former are +differences that bind, and the latter that separate. For although we can +suppose the ideal or perfect human heart, and the perfect human +intelligence, equally adapted to receive every right sensation and +pursue every order of truth, yet as it is appointed for some to be in +authority and others in obedience, some in solitary functions and others +in relative ones, some to receive and others to give, some to teach and +some to discover; and as all these varieties of office are not only +conceivable as existing in a perfect state of man, but seem almost to be +implied by it, and at any rate cannot be done away with but by a total +change of his constitution and dependencies, of which the imagination +can take no hold; so there are habits and capacities of expression +induced by these various offices, which admit of many separate ideals of +equal perfection, according to the functions of the creatures, so that +there is an ideal of authority, of judgment, of affection, of reason, +and of faith; neither can any combination of these ideals be attained, +not that the just judge is to be supposed incapable of affection, nor +the king incapable of obedience, but as it is impossible that any +essence short of the Divine should at the same instant be equally +receptive of all emotions, those emotions which, by right and order, +have the most usual victory, both leave the stamp of their habitual +presence on the body, and render the individual more and more +susceptible of them in proportion to the frequency of their prevalent +recurrence; added to which causes of distinctive character are to be +taken into account the differences of age and sex, which, though +seemingly of more finite influence, cannot be banished from any human +conception. David, ruddy and of a fair countenance, with the brook stone +of deliverance in his hand, is not more ideal than David leaning on the +old age of Barzillai, returning chastened to his kingly home. And they +who are as the angels of God in heaven, yet cannot be conceived as so +assimilated that their different experiences and affections upon earth +shall then be forgotten and effectless: the child taken early to his +place cannot be imagined to wear there such a body, nor to have such +thoughts, as the glorified apostle who has finished his course and kept +the faith on earth. And so whatever perfections and likeness of love we +may attribute to either the tried or the crowned creatures, there is the +difference of the stars in glory among them yet; differences of original +gifts, though not of occupying till their Lord come, different +dispensations of trial and of trust, of sorrow and support, both in +their own inward, variable hearts, and in their positions of exposure or +of peace, of the gourd shadow and the smiting sun, of calling at heat of +day or eleventh hour, of the house unroofed by faith, and the clouds +opened by revelation: differences in warning, in mercies, in sicknesses, +in signs, in time of calling to account; like only they all are by that +which is not of them, but the gift of God's unchangeable mercy. "I will +give unto this last even as unto thee." + + +§ 11. The _effects_ of the Adamite curse are to be distinguished from + signs of its immediate activity. + +§ 12. Which latter only are to be banished from ideal form. + +Hence, then, be it observed, that what we must determinedly banish from +the human form and countenance in our seeking of its ideal, is not +everything which can be ultimately traced to the Adamite fall for its +cause, but only the immediate operation and presence of the degrading +power or sin. For there is not any part of our feeling of nature, nor +can there be through eternity, which shall not be in some way influenced +and affected by the fall, and that not in any way of degradation, for +the renewing in the divinity of Christ is a nobler condition than ever +that of Paradise, and yet throughout eternity it must imply and refer to +the disobedience, and the corrupt state of sin and death, and the +suffering of Christ himself, which can we conceive of any redeemed soul +as for an instant forgetting, or as remembering without sorrow? Neither +are the alternations of joy and such sorrow as by us is inconceivable, +being only as it were a softness and silence in the pulse of an infinite +felicity, inconsistent with the state even of the unfallen, for the +angels who rejoice over repentance cannot but feel an uncomprehended +pain as they try and try again in vain, whether they may not warm hard +hearts with the brooding of their kind wings. So that we have not to +banish from the ideal countenance the evidences of sorrow, nor of past +suffering, nor even of past and conquered sin, but only the immediate +operation of any evil, or the immediate coldness and hollowness of any +good emotion. And hence in that contest before noted, between the body +and the soul, we may often have to indicate the body as far conquered +and outworn, and with signs of hard struggle and bitter pain upon it, +and yet without ever diminishing the purity of its ideal; and because it +is not in the power of any human imagination to reason out or conceive +the countless modifications of experience, suffering, and separated +feeling, which have modelled and written their indelible images in +various order upon every human countenance, so no right ideal can be +reached by any combination of feature nor by any moulding and melting of +individual beauties together, and still less without model or example +conceived; but there is a perfect ideal to be wrought out of _every_ +face around us that has on its forehead the writing and the seal of the +angel ascending from the East,[38] by the earnest study and penetration +of the written history thereupon, and the banishing of the blots and +stains, wherein we still see in all that is human, the visible and +instant operation of unconquered sin. + + +§ 13. Ideal form is only to be obtained by portraiture. + +Now I see not how any of the steps of the argument by which we have +arrived at this conclusion can be evaded, and yet it would be difficult +to state anything more directly opposite to the usual teaching and +practice of artists. It is usual to hear portraiture opposed to the +pursuit of ideality, and yet we find that no face can be ideal which is +not a portrait. Of this general principle, however, there are certain +modifications which we must presently state; let us first, however, +pursue it a little farther, and deduce its practical consequences. + + +§ 14. Instances among the greater of the ideal Masters. + +These are, first, that the pursuit of idealism in humanity, as of +idealism in lower nature, can be successful only when followed through +the most constant, patient, and humble rendering of actual models, +accompanied with that earnest mental as well as ocular study of each, +which can interpret all that is written upon it, disentangle the +hieroglyphics of its sacred history, rend the veil of the bodily temple, +and rightly measure the relations of good and evil contending within it +for mastery,[39] that everything done without such study must be shallow +and contemptible, that generalization or combination of individual +character will end less in the mending than the losing of it, and, +except in certain instances of which we shall presently take note, is +valueless and vapid, even if it escape being painful from its want of +truth, which in these days it often in some measure does, for we indeed +find faces about us with want enough of life or wholesome character in +them to justify anything. And that habit of the old and great painters +of introducing portrait into all their highest works, I look to, not as +error in them, but as the very source and root of their superiority in +all things, for they were too great and too humble not to see in every +face about them that which was above them, and which no fancies of +theirs could match nor take place of, wherefore we find the custom of +portraiture constant with them, both portraiture of study and for +purposes of analysis, as with Leonardo; and actual, professed, +serviceable, hardworking portraiture of the men of their time, as with +Raffaelle, and Titian, and Tintoret; and portraiture of Love, as with +Fra Bartolomeo of Savonarola, and Simon Memmi of Petrarch, and Giotto of +Dante, and Gentile Bellini of a beloved imagination of Dandolo, and with +Raffaelle constantly; and portraiture in real downright necessity of +models, even in their noblest works, as was the practice of Ghirlandajo +perpetually, and Masaccio and Raffaelle, and manifestly of the men of +highest and purest ideal purpose, as again, Giotto, and in his +characteristic monkish heads, Angelico, and John Bellini, (note +especially the St. Christopher at the side of that mighty picture of St. +Jerome, at Venice,) and so of all: which practice had indeed a perilous +tendency for men of debased mind, who used models such as and where they +ought not, as Lippi and the corrupted Raffaelle; and is found often at +exceeding disadvantage among men who looked not at their models with +intellectual or loving penetration, but took the outside of them, or +perhaps took the evil and left the good, as Titian in that Academy study +at Venice which is called a St. John, and all workers whatsoever that I +know of, after Raffaelle's time, as Guido and the Caracci, and such +others: but it is nevertheless the necessary and sterling basis of all +ideal art, neither has any great man ever been able to do without it, +nor dreamed of doing without it even to the close of his days. + + +§ 15. Evil results of opposite practice in modern times. + +And therefore there is not any greater sign of the utter want of +vitality and hopefulness in the schools of the present day than that +unhappy prettiness and sameness under which they mask, or rather for +which they barter, in their lentile thirst, all the birthright and power +of nature, which prettiness, wrought out and spun fine in the study, out +of empty heads, till it hardly betters the blocks on which dresses and +hair are tried in barbers' windows and milliners' books, cannot but be +revolting to any man who has his eyes, even in a measure, open to the +divinity of the immortal seal on the common features that he meets in +the highways and hedges hourly and momentarily, outreaching all efforts +of conception as all power of realization, were it Raffaelle's three +times over, even when the glory of the wedding garment is not there. + + +§ 16. The right use of the model. + +So far, then, of the use of the model and the preciousness of it in all +art, from the highest to the lowest. But the use of the model is not +all. It must be used in a certain way, and on this choice of right or +wrong way all our ends are at stake, for the art, which is of no power +without the model, is of pernicious and evil power if the model be +wrongly used. What the right use is, has been at least established, if +not fully explained, in the argument by which we arrived at the general +principle. + +The right ideal is to be reached, we have asserted, only by the +banishment of the immediate signs of sin upon the countenance and body. +How, therefore, are the signs of sin to be known and separated? + + +§ 17. Ideal form to be reached only by love. + +No intellectual operation is here of any avail. There is not any +reasoning by which the evidences of depravity are to be traced in +movements of muscle or forms of feature; there is not any knowledge, nor +experience, nor diligence of comparison that can be of avail. Here, as +throughout the operation of the theoretic faculty, the perception is +altogether moral, an instinctive love and clinging to the lines of +light. Nothing but love can read the letters, nothing but sympathy catch +the sound, there is no pure passion that can be understood or painted +except by pureness of heart; the foul or blunt feeling will see itself +in everything, and set down blasphemies; it will see Beelzebub in the +casting out of devils, it will find its god of flies in every alabaster +box of precious ointment. The indignation of zeal towards God (nemesis) +it will take for anger against man, faith and veneration it will miss +of, as not comprehending, charity it will turn into lust, compassion +into pride, every virtue it will go over against, like Shimei, casting +dust. But the right Christian mind will in like manner find its own +image wherever it exists, it will seek for what it loves, and draw it +out of all dens and caves, and it will believe in its being, often when +it cannot see it, and always turn away its eyes from beholding vanity; +and so it will lie lovingly over all the faults and rough places of the +human heart, as the snow from heaven does over the hard, and black, and +broken mountain rocks, following their forms truly, and yet catching +light for them to make them fair, and that must be a steep and unkindly +crag indeed which it cannot cover. + + +§ 18. Practical principles deducible. + +Now of this spirit there will always be little enough in the world, and +it cannot be given nor taught by men, and so it is of little use to +insist on it farther, only I may note some practical points respecting +the ideal treatment of human form, which may be of use in these +thoughtless days. There is not the face, I have said, which the painter +may not make ideal if he choose, but that subtile feeling which shall +find out all of good that there is in any given countenance is not, +except by concern for other things than art, to be acquired. But certain +broad indications of evil there are which the bluntest feeling may +perceive, and which the habit of distinguishing and casting out would +both ennoble the schools of art, and lead in time to greater acuteness +of perception with respect to the less explicable characters of soul +beauty. + + +§ 19. Expressions chiefly destructive of ideal character. 1st. Pride. + +Those signs of evil which are commonly most manifest on the human +features are roughly divisible into these four kinds, the signs of +pride, of sensuality, of fear, and of cruelty. Any one of which will +destroy the ideal character of the countenance and body. + + +§ 20. Portraiture ancient and modern. + +Now of these, the first, pride, is perhaps the most destructive of all +the four, seeing it is the undermost and original story of all sin; and +it is base also from the necessary foolishness of it, because at its +best, that is when grounded on a just estimation of our own elevation +or superiority above certain others, it cannot but imply that our eyes +look downward only, and have never been raised above our own measure, +for there is not the man so lofty in his standing nor capacity but he +must be humble in thinking of the cloud habitation and far sight of the +angelic intelligences above him, and in perceiving what infinity there +is of things he cannot know nor even reach unto, as it stands compared +with that little body of things he can reach, and of which nevertheless +he can altogether understand not one; not to speak of that wicked and +fond attributing of such excellency as he may have to himself, and +thinking of it as his own getting, which is the real essence and +criminality of pride, nor of those viler forms of it, founded on false +estimation of things beneath us and irrational contemning of them: but +taken at its best, it is still base to that degree that there is no +grandeur of feature which it cannot destroy and make despicable, so that +the first step towards the ennobling of any face is the ridding it of +its vanity; to which aim there cannot be anything more contrary than +that principle of portraiture which prevails with us in these days, +whose end seems to be the expression of vanity throughout, in face and +in all circumstances of accompaniment, tending constantly to insolence +of attitude, and levity and haughtiness of expression, and worked out +farther in mean accompaniments of worldly splendor and possession, +together with hints or proclamations of what the person has done or +supposes himself to have done, which, if known, it is gratuitous in the +portrait to exhibit, and if unknown, it is insolent in the portrait to +proclaim; whence has arisen such a school of portraiture as must make +the people of the nineteenth century the shame of their descendants, and +the butt of all time. To which practices are to be opposed both the +glorious severity of Holbein, and the mighty and simple modesty of +Raffaelle, Titian, Giorgione, and Tintoret, with whom armor does not +constitute the warrior, neither silk the dame. And from what feeling the +dignity of that portraiture arose is best traceable at Venice, where we +find their victorious doges painted neither in the toil of battle nor +the triumph of return, nor set forth with thrones and curtains of state, +but kneeling always crownless, and returning thanks to God for his help, +or as priests, interceding for the nation in its affliction. Which +feeling and its results have been so well traced out by Rio,[40] that I +need not speak of it farther. + + +§ 21. Secondly, Sensuality. + +§ 22. How connected with impurity of color. + +§ 23. And prevented by its splendor. + +§ 24. Or by severity of drawing. + +That second destroyer of ideal form, the appearance of sensual +character, though not less fatal in its operation on modern art, is more +difficult to trace, owing to its peculiar subtlety. For it is not +possible to say by what minute differences the right conception of the +human form is separated from that which is luscious and foul: for the +root of all is in the love and seeking of the painter, who, if of impure +and feeble mind, will cover all that he touches with clay staining, as +Bandinelli puts a foul scent of human flesh about his marble Christ, and +as many whom I will not here name, among moderns; but if of mighty mind +or pure, may pass through all places of foulness, and none will stay +upon him, as Michael Angelo, or he will baptize all things and wash them +with pure water, as our own Stothard. Now, so far as this power is +dependent on the seeking of the artist, and is only to be seen in the +work of good and spiritually-minded men, it is vain to attempt to teach +or illustrate it, neither is it here the place to take note of the way +in which it belongs to the representation of the mental image of things, +instead of things themselves, of which we are to speak in treating of +the imagination; but thus much may here be noted of broad, practical +principle, that the purity of flesh painting depends in very +considerable measure on the intensity and warmth of its color. For if it +be opaque, and clay cold, and colorless, and devoid of all the radiance +and value of flesh, the lines of its true beauty, being severe and firm, +will become so hard in the loss of the glow and gradation by which +nature illustrates them, that the painter will be compelled to sacrifice +them for a luscious fulness and roundness, in order to give the +conception of flesh; which, being done, destroys ideality of form as of +color, and gives all over to lasciviousness of surface; showing also +that the painter sought for this, and this only, since otherwise he had +not taken a subject in which he knew himself compelled to surrender all +sources of dignity. Whereas, right splendor of color both bears out a +nobler severity of form, and is in itself purifying and cleansing, like +fire, furnishing also to the painter an excuse for the choice of his +subject, seeing that he may be supposed as not having painted it but in +the admiration of its abstract glory of color and form, and with no +unworthy seeking. But the mere power of perfect and glowing color will +in some sort redeem even a debased tendency of mind itself, as eminently +the case with Titian, who, though of little feeling, and often treating +base subjects, or elevated subjects basely, as in the disgusting +Magdalen of the Pitti palace, and that of the Barberigo at Venice, yet +redeems all by his glory of hue, so that he cannot paint altogether +coarsely; and with Giorgione, who had nobler and more serious intellect, +the sense of nudity is utterly lost, and there is no need nor desire of +concealment any more, but his naked figures move among the trees like +fiery pillars, and lie on the grass like flakes of sunshine.[41] With +the religious painters on the other hand, such nudity as they were +compelled to treat is redeemed as much by severity of form and hardness +of line as by color, so that generally their draped figures are +preferable, as in the Francia of our own gallery. But these, with +Michael Angelo and the Venetians, except Titian, form a great group, +pure in sight and aim, between which and all other schools by which the +nude has been treated, there is a gulf fixed, and all the rest, compared +with them, seem striving how best to illustrate that of Spenser. + + "Of all God's works, which doe this worlde adorn, + There is no one more faire, and excellent + Than is man's body both for power and forme + Whiles it is kept in sober government. + But none than it more foul and indecent + Distempered through misrule and passions bace." + + +§ 25. Degrees of descent in this respect: Rubens, Correggio, and Guido. + +§ 26. And modern art. + +Of these last, however, with whom ideality is lost, there are some +worthier than others, according to that measure of color they reach, and +power they possess, whence much may be forgiven to Rubens, (as to our +own Etty,) less, as I think, to Correggio, who with less apparent and +evident coarseness has more of inherent sensuality, wrought out with +attractive and luscious refinement, and that alike in all subjects, as +in the Madonna of the Incoronazione, over the high altar of San Giovanni +at Parma, of which the head and upper portion of the figure, now +preserved in the library, might serve as a model of attitude and +expression to a ballet figurante:[42] and again in the lascivious St. +Catherine of the Giorno, and in the Charioted Diana, (both at Parma,) +not to name any of his works of aim more definitely evil. Beneath which +again will fall the works devoid alike of art and decency, as that +Susannah of Guido, in our own gallery, and so we may descend to the +absolute clay of the moderns, only noticing in all how much of what is +evil and base in subject or tendency, is redeemed by what is pure and +right in hue, so that I do not assert that the purpose and object of +many of the grander painters of the nude, as Titian for instance, was +always elevated, but only that we, who cannot paint the lamp of fire +within the earthen pitcher, must take other weapons in our left hands. +And it is to be noted, also, that in climates where the body can be more +openly and frequently visited by sun and weather, the nude both comes to +be regarded in a way more grand and pure, as necessarily awakening no +ideas of base kind, (as pre-eminently with the Greeks,) and also from +that exposure receives a firmness and sunny elasticity very different +from the silky softness of the clothed nations of the north, where every +model necessarily looks as if accidentally undressed; and hence from the +very fear and doubt with which we approach the nude, it becomes +expressive of evil, and for that daring frankness of the old men, which +seldom missed of human grandeur, even when it failed of holy feeling, we +have substituted a mean, carpeted, gauze-veiled, mincing sensuality of +curls and crisping pins, out of which I believe nothing can come but +moral enervation and mental paralysis. + + +§ 27. Thirdly, ferocity and fear. The latter how to be distinguished + from awe. + +§ 28. Holy fear, how distinct from human terror. + +§ 29. Ferocity is joined always with fear. Its unpardonableness. + +Respecting those two other vices of the human face, the expressions of +fear and ferocity, there is less to be noted, as they only occasionally +enter into the conception of character; only it is most necessary to +make careful distinction between the conception of power, +destructiveness, or majesty, in matter, influence, or agent, and the +actual fear of any of these, for it is possible to conceive of +terribleness, without being in a position obnoxious to the danger of it, +and so without fear, and the feeling arising from this contemplation of +dreadfulness, ourselves being in safety, as of a stormy sea from the +shore, is properly termed awe, and is a most noble passion; whereas fear +mortal and extreme, may be felt respecting things ignoble, as the +falling from a window, and without any conception of terribleness or +majesty in the thing, or the accident dreaded; and even when fear is +felt respecting things sublime, as thunder, or storm of battle, yet the +tendency of it is to destroy all power of contemplation of their +majesty, and to freeze and shrink all the intellect into a shaking heap +of clay, for absolute acute fear is of the same unworthiness and +contempt from whatever source it arise, and degrades the mind and the +outward bearing of the body alike, even though it be among hail of +heaven and fire running along the ground. And so among the children of +God, while there is always that fearful and bowed apprehension of his +majesty, and that sacred dread of all offence to him, which is called +the fear of God, yet of real and essential fear there is not any but +clinging of confidence to him, as their Rock, Fortress, and Deliverer, +and perfect love, and casting out of fear, so that it is not possible +that while the mind is rightly bent on him, there should be dread of +anything either earthly or supernatural, and the more dreadful seems the +height of his majesty, the less fear they feel that dwell in the shadow +of it, ("Of whom shall I be afraid?") so that they are as David was, +devoted to his fear; whereas, on the other hand, those who, if they may +help it, never conceive of God, but thrust away all thought and memory +of him, and in his real terribleness and omnipresence fear him not nor +know him, yet are of real, acute, piercing, and ignoble fear, haunted +for evermore; fear inconceiving and desperate that calls to the rocks, +and hides in the dust; and hence the peculiar baseness of the expression +of terror, a baseness attributed to it in all times, and among all +nations, as of a passion atheistical, brutal, and profane. So also, it +is always joined with ferocity, which is of all passions the least +human; for of sensual desires there is license to men, as necessity; and +of vanity there is intellectual cause, so that when seen in a brute it +is pleasant and a sign of good wit; and of fear there is at times +necessity and excuse, as being allowed for prevention of harm; but of +ferocity there is no excuse nor palliation, but it is pure essence of +tiger and demon, and it casts on the human face the paleness alike of +the horse of Death, and the ashes of hell. + + +§ 30. Such expressions how sought by painters powerless and impious. + +Wherefore, of all subjects that can be admitted to sight, the +expressions of fear and ferocity are the most foul and detestable, and +so there is in them I know not what sympathetic attractiveness for minds +cowardly and base, as the vulgar of most nations, and forasmuch as they +are easily rendered by men who can render nothing else, they are often +trusted in by the herd of painters incapable and profane, as in that +monstrous abortion of the first room of the Louvre, called the Deluge, +whose subject is pure, acute, mortal fear; and so generally the +senseless horrors of the modern French schools, spawn of the guillotine: +also there is not a greater test of grandeur or meanness of mind than +the expressions it will seek for and develop in the features and forms +of men in fierce strife, whether determination and devotion, and all the +other attributes of that unselfishness which constitutes heroism, as in +the warrior of Agasias; and distress not agitated nor unworthy, though +mortal, as in the Dying Gladiator, or brutal ferocity and butchered +agony, of which the lowest and least palliated examples are those +battles of Salvator Rosa, which none but a man, base-born and +thief-bred, could have dwelt upon for an instant without sickening, of +which I will only name that example in the Pitti palace, wherein the +chief figure in the foreground is a man with his arm cut off at the +shoulder, run through the other hand into the breast with a lance.[43] +And manifold instances of the same feeling are to be found in the +repainting of the various representations of the Inferno, so common +through Italy, more especially that of Orcagna's in the Campo Santo, +wherein the few figures near the top that yet remain untouched are grand +in their severe drawing and expressions of enduring despair, while those +below, repainted by Solazzino, depend for their expressiveness upon +torrents of blood; so in the Inferno of Santa Maria Novella, and of the +Arena chapel, not to speak of the horrible images of the Passion, by +which vulgar Romanism has always striven to excite the languid +sympathies of its untaught flocks. Of which foulness let us reason no +farther, the very image and memory of them being pollution, only +noticing this, that there has always been a morbid tendency in Romanism +towards the contemplation of bodily pain, owing to the attribution of +saving power to it, which, like every other moral error, has been of +fatal effect in art, leaving not altogether without the stain and blame +of it, even the highest of the pure Romanist painters; as Fra Angelico, +for instance, who, in his Passion subjects, always insists weakly on the +bodily torture, and is unsparing of blood; and Giotto, though his +treatment is usually grander, as in that Crucifixion over the door of +the Convent of St. Mark's, where the blood is hardly actual, but issues +from the feet in a typical and conventional form, and becomes a crimson +cord which is twined strangely beneath about a skull; only that which +these holy men did to enhance, even though in their means mistaken, the +impression and power of the sufferings of Christ, or of his saints, is +always in a measure noble, and to be distinguished with all reverence +from the abominations of the irreligious painters following, as of +Camillo Procaccini, in one of his martyrdoms in the Gallery of the +Brera, at Milan, and other such, whose names may be well spared to the +reader. + + +§ 31. Of passion generally. + +§ 32. It is never to be for itself exhibited--at least on the face. + +These, then, are the four passions whose presence in any degree on the +human face is degradation. But of all passion it is to be generally +observed, that it becomes ignoble either when entertained respecting +unworthy objects, and therefore shallow or unjustifiable, or when of +impious violence, and so destructive of human dignity. Thus grief is +noble or the reverse, according to the dignity and worthiness of the +object lamented, and the grandeur of the mind enduring it. The sorrow of +mortified vanity or avarice is simply disgusting, even that of bereaved +affection may be base if selfish and unrestrained. All grief that +convulses the features is ignoble, because it is commonly shallow and +certainly temporary, as in children, though in the shock and shiver of a +strong man's features under sudden and violent grief there may be +something of sublime. The grief of Guercino's Hagar, in the Brera +gallery at Milan, is partly despicable, partly disgusting, partly +ridiculous; it is not the grief of the injured Egyptian, driven forth +into the desert with the destiny of a nation in her heart, but of a +servant of all work, turned away for stealing tea and sugar. Common +painters forget that passion is not absolutely and in itself great or +violent, but only in proportion to the weakness of the mind it has to +deal with; and that in exaggerating its outward signs, they are not +exalting the passion, but evaporating the hero.[44] They think too much +of passions as always the same in their nature, forgetting that the love +of Achilles is different from the love of Paris, and of Alcestis from +that of Laodamia. The use and value of passion is not as a subject in +contemplation in itself, but as it breaks up the fountains of the great +deep of the human mind, or displays its mightiness and ribbed majesty, +as mountains are seen in their stability best among the coil of clouds; +whence, in fine, I think it is to be held that all passion which attains +overwhelming power, so that it is not as resisting, but as conquered, +that the creature is contemplated, is unfit for high art, and +destructive of the ideal character of the countenance: and in this +respect, I cannot but hold Raffaelle to have erred in his endeavor to +express passion of such acuteness in the human face; as in the fragment +of the Massacre of the Innocents in our own gallery, (wherein, repainted +though it be, I suppose the purpose of the master is yet to be +understood,) for if such subjects are to be represented at all, their +entire expression may be given without degrading the face, as we shall +presently see done with unspeakable power by Tintoret,[45] and I think +that all subjects of the kind, all human misery, slaughter, famine, +plague, peril, and crime, are better in the main avoided, as of +unprofitable and hardening influence, unless so far as out of the +suffering, hinted rather than expressed, we may raise into nobler relief +the eternal enduring of fortitude and affection, of mercy and +self-devotion, or when, as by the threshing-floor of Ornan, and by the +cave of Lazarus, the angel of the Lord is to be seen in the +chastisement, and his love to be manifested to the despair of men. + + +§ 33. Recapitulation + +Thus, then, we have in some sort enumerated those evil signs which are +most necessary to be shunned in the seeking of ideal beauty,[46] though +it is not the knowledge of them, but the dread and hatred of them, which +will effectually aid the painter; as on the other hand it is not by mere +admission of the loveliness of good and holy expression that its subtile +characters are to be traced. Raffaelle himself, questioned on this +subject, made doubtful answer; he probably could not trace through what +early teaching, or by what dies of emotion the image had been sealed +upon his heart. Our own Bacon, who well saw the impossibility of +reaching it by the combination of many separate beauties, yet explains +not the nature of that "kind of felicity" to which he attributes +success. I suppose those who have conceived and wrought the loveliest +things, have done so by no theorizing, but in simple labor of love, and +could not, if put to a bar of rationalism, defend all points of what +they had done, but painted it in their own delight, and to the delight +of all besides, only always with that respect of conscience and "fear of +swerving from that which is right, which maketh diligent observers of +circumstances the loose regard whereof is the nurse of vulgar folly, no +less than Solomon's attention thereunto was of natural furtherances the +most effectual to make him eminent above others, for he gave good heed, +and pierced everything to the very ground."[47] + +With which good heed, and watching of the instants when men feel warmly +and rightly, as the Indians do for the diamond in their washing of sand, +and that with the desire and hope of finding true good in men, and not +with the ready vanity that sets itself to fiction instantly, and carries +its potter's wheel about with it always, (off which there will come only +clay vessels of regular shape after all,) instead of the pure +mirror that can show the seraph standing by the human body--standing as +signal to the heavenly land:[48] with this heed and this charity, there +are none of us that may not bring down that lamp upon his path of which +Spenser sang:-- + + "That beauty is not, as fond men misdeem + An outward show of things, that only seem; + But that fair lamp, from whose celestial ray + That light proceeds, which kindleth lover's fire, + Shall never be extinguished nor decay. + But when the vital spirits do expire, + Unto her native planet shall retire, + For it is heavenly born and cannot die, + Being a parcel of the purest sky." + + +FOOTNOTES + + [38] Rev. vii. 2. + + [39] Compare Part II. Sec. I. Chap. III § 6. + + [40] De la Poėsie Chrétienne. Forme de l'Art. Chap. VIII. + + [41] As in the noble Louvre picture. + + [42] The Madonna turns her back to Christ, and bends her head over + her shoulder to receive the crown, the arms being folded with + studied grace over the bosom. + + [43] Compare Michelet, (Du Prźtre, de la Femme, de la Famille,) + Chap. III. note. He uses language too violent to be quoted; but + excuses Salvator by reference to the savage character of the Thirty + Years' War. That this excuse has no validity may be proved by + comparing the painter's treatment of other subjects. See Sec. II. + Chap. III. § 19, note. + + [44] "The fire, that mounts the liquor, till it run o'er + In seeming to augment it, wastes it." + + HENRY VIII. + + [45] Sect. II. Chap. III. § 22. + + [46] Let it be observed that it is always of beauty, not of human + character in its lower and criminal modifications, that we have been + speaking. That variety of character, therefore, which we have + affirmed to be necessary, is the variety of Giotto and Angelico, not + of Hogarth. Works concerned with the exhibition of general + character, are to be spoken of in the consideration of Ideas of + Relation. + + [47] Hooker, Book V. Chap. I. § 2. + + [48] "Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, + And by the holy rood, + A man all light, a seraph man + By every corse there stood. + This seraph band, each waved his hand, + It was a heavenly sight; + They stood as signals to the land, + Each one a lovely light." + + ANCIENT MARINER + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + GENERAL CONCLUSIONS RESPECTING THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + +§ 1. There are no sources of the emotion of beauty more than those found + in things visible. + +§ 2. What imperfection exists in visible things. How in a sort by + imagination removable. + +§ 3. Which however affects not our present conclusions. + +Of the sources of beauty open to us in the visible world, we have now +obtained a view which, though most feeble in its grasp and scanty in its +detail, is yet general in its range. Of no other sources than these +visible can we, by any effort in our present condition of existence, +conceive. For what revelations have been made to humanity inspired, or +caught up to heaven of things to the heavenly region belonging, have +been either by unspeakable words which it is not lawful for a man to +utter, or else by their very nature incommunicable, except in types and +shadows; and ineffable by words belonging to earth, for of things +different from the visible, words appropriated to the visible can convey +no image. How different from earthly gold that clear pavement of the +city might have seemed to the eyes of St. John, we of unreceived sight +cannot know; neither of that strange jasper and sardine can we conceive +the likeness which he assumed that sat on the throne above the crystal +sea; neither what seeming that was of slaying that the Root of David +bore in the midst of the elders; neither what change it was upon the +form of the fourth of them that walked in the furnace of Dura, that even +the wrath of idolatry knew for the likeness of the Son of God. The +knowing that is here permitted to us is either of things outward only, +as in those it is whose eyes faith never opened, or else of that dark +part that her glass shows feebly, of things supernatural, that gleaming +of the Divine form among the mortal crowd, which all may catch if they +will climb the sycamore and wait; nor how much of God's abiding at the +house may be granted to those that so seek, and how much more may be +opened to them in the breaking of bread, cannot be said; but of that +only we can reason which is in a measure revealed to all, of that which +is by constancy and purity of affection to be found in the things and +the beings around us upon earth. Now among all those things whose beauty +we have hitherto examined, there has been a measure of imperfection. +Either inferiority of kind, as the beauty of the lower animals, or +resulting from degradation, as in man himself; and although in +considering the beauty of human form, we arrived at some conception of +restoration, yet we found that even the restoration must be in some +respect imperfect, as incapable of embracing all qualities, moral and +intellectual, at once, neither to be freed from all signs of former evil +done or suffered. Consummate beauty, therefore, is not to be found on +earth, though often such intense measure of it as shall drown all +capacity of receiving; neither is it to be respecting humanity +legitimately conceived. But by certain operations of the imagination +upon ideas of beauty received from things around us, it is possible to +conceive respecting superhuman creatures (of that which is more than +creature, no creature ever conceived) a beauty in some sort greater than +we see. Of this beauty, however, it is impossible to determine anything +until we have traced the imaginative operations to which it owes its +being, of which operations this much may be prematurely said, that they +are not creative, that no new ideas are elicited by them, and that their +whole function is only a certain dealing with, concentrating or mode of +regarding the impressions received from external things, that therefore, +in the beauty to which they will conduct us, there will be found no new +element, but only a peculiar combination or phase of those elements that +we now know, and that therefore we may at present draw all the +conclusions with respect to the rank of the theoretic faculty, which the +knowledge of its subject matter can warrant. + + +§ 4. The four sources from which the pleasure of beauty is derived are + all divine. + +We have seen that this subject matter is referable to four general +heads. It is either the record of conscience, printed in things +external, or it is a symbolizing of Divine attributes in matter, or it +is the felicity of living things, or the perfect fulfilment of their +duties and functions. In all cases it is something Divine, either the +approving voice of God, the glorious symbol of him, the evidence of his +kind presence, or the obedience to his will by him induced and +supported. + +All these subjects of contemplation are such as we may suppose will +remain sources of pleasure to the perfected spirit throughout eternity. +Divine in their nature, they are addressed to the immortal part of men. + + +§ 5. What objections may be made to this conclusion. + +There remain, however, two points to be noticed before I can hope that +this conclusion will be frankly accepted by the reader. If it be the +moral part of us to which beauty addresses itself, how does it happen, +it will be asked, that it is ever found in the works of impious men, and +how is it possible for such to desire or conceive it? + +On the other hand, how does it happen that men in high state of moral +culture are often insensible to the influence of material beauty, and +insist feebly upon it as an instrument of soul culture. + +These two objections I shall endeavor briefly to answer, not that they +can be satisfactorily treated without that detailed examination of the +whole body of great works of art, on which I purpose to enter in the +following volume. For the right determination of these two questions is +indeed the whole end and aim of my labor, (and if it could be here +accomplished, I should bestow no effort farther,) namely, the proving +that no supreme power of art can be attained by impious men; and that +the neglect of art, as an interpreter of divine things, has been of evil +consequence to the Christian world. + +At present, however, I would only meet such objections as must +immediately arise in the reader's mind. + + +§ 6. Typical beauty may be ęsthetically pursued. Instances. + +§ 7. How interrupted by false feeling. + +And first, it will be remembered that I have, throughout the examination +of typical beauty, asserted its instinctive power, the moral meaning of +it being only discoverable by faithful thought. Now this instinctive +sense of it varies in intensity among men, being given, like the hearing +ear of music, to some more than to others: and if those to whom it is +given in large measure be unfortunately men of impious or unreflecting +spirit, it is very possible that the perceptions of beauty should be by +them cultivated on principles merely ęsthetic, and so lose their +hallowing power; for though the good seed in them is altogether divine, +yet, there being no blessing in the springing thereof, it brings forth +wild grapes in the end. And yet these wild grapes are well discernible, +like the deadly gourds of Gilgal. There is in all works of such men a +taint and stain, and jarring discord, blacker and louder exactly in +proportion to the moral deficiency, of which the best proof and measure +is to be found in their treatment of the human form, (since in landscape +it is nearly impossible to introduce definite expression of evil,) of +which the highest beauty has been attained only once, and then by no +system taught painter, but by a most holy Dominican monk of Fiesole; and +beneath him all stoop lower and lower in proportion to their inferior +sanctity, though with more or less attainment of that which is noble, +according to their intellectual power and earnestness, as Raffaelle in +his St. Cecilia, (a mere study of a passionate, dark-eyed, large formed +Italian model,) and even Perugino, in that there is about his noblest +faces a shortcoming, indefinable; an absence of the full outpouring of +the sacred spirit that there is in Angelico; traceable, I doubt not, to +some deficiencies and avaricious flaws of his heart, whose consequences +in his conduct were such as to give Vasari hope that his lies might +stick to him (for the contradiction of which in the main, if there be +not contradiction enough in every line that the hand of Perugino drew, +compare Rio, de la Poėsie Chrétienne, and note also what Rio has +singularly missed observing, that Perugino, in his portrait of himself +in the Florence gallery, has put a scroll into the hand, with the words +"Timete Deum," thus surely indicating that which he considered his duty +and message:) and so all other even of the sacred painters, not to speak +of the lower body of men in whom, on the one hand, there is marked +sensuality and impurity in all that they seek of beauty, as in +Correggio and Guido, or, on the other, a want in measure of the sense of +beauty itself, as in Rubens and Titian, showing itself in the adoption +of coarse types of feature and form; sometimes also (of which I could +find instances in modern times,) in a want of evidence of delight in +what they do; so that, after they have rendered some passage of +exceeding beauty, they will suffer some discordant point to interfere +with it, and it will not hurt them, as if they had no pleasure in that +which was best, but had done it in inspiration that was not profitable +to them, as deaf men might touch an instrument with a feeling in their +heart, which yet returns not outwardly upon them, and so know not when +they play false: and sometimes by total want of choice, for there is a +choice of love in all rightly tempered men, not that ignorant and +insolent choice which rejects half nature as empty of the right, but +that pure choice that fetches the right out of everything; and where +this is wanting, we may see men walking up and down in dry places, +finding no rest, ever and anon doing something noble, and yet not +following it up, but dwelling the next instant on something impure or +profitless with the same intensity and yet impatience, so that they are +ever wondered at and never sympathized with, and while they dazzle all, +they lead none; and then, beneath these again, we find others on whose +works there are definite signs of evil mind, ill-repressed, and then +inability to avoid, and at last perpetual seeking for and feeding upon +horror and ugliness, and filthiness of sin, as eminently in Salvator and +Caravaggio, and the lower Dutch schools, only in these last less +painfully as they lose the villanous in the brutal, and the horror of +crime in its idiocy. + + +§ 8. Greatness and truth are sometimes by the Deity sustained and spoken + in and through evil men. + +But secondly, it is to be noted that it is neither by us uncertainable +what moments of pure feeling or aspiration may occur to men of minds +apparently cold and lost, nor by us to be pronounced through what +instruments, and in what strangely occurrent voices, God may choose to +communicate good to men. It seems to me that much of what is great, and +to all men beneficial, has been wrought by those who neither intended +nor knew the good they did, and that many mighty harmonies have been +discoursed by instruments that had been dumb or discordant, but that +God knew their stops. The Spirit of Prophecy consisted with the avarice +of Balaam, and the disobedience of Saul. Could we spare from its page +that parable, which he said, who saw the vision of the Almighty, falling +into a trance, but having his eyes open, though we know that the sword +of his punishment was then sharp in its sheath beneath him in the plains +of Moab? or shall we not lament with David over the shield cast away on +the Gilboa mountains, of him to whom God gave _another heart_ that day +when he turned his back to go from Samuel? It is not our part to look +hardly, nor to look always, to the character or the deeds of men, but to +accept from all of them, and to hold fast that which we can prove good, +and feel to be ordained for us. We know that whatever good there is in +them is itself divine, and wherever we see the virtue of ardent labor +and self-surrendering to a single purpose, wherever we find constant +reference made to the written scripture of natural beauty, this at least +we know is great and good, this we know is not granted by the counsel of +God, without purpose, nor maintained without result: Their +interpretation we may accept, into their labor we may enter, but they +themselves must look to it, if what they do has no intent of good, nor +any reference to the Giver of all gifts. Selfish in their industry, +unchastened in their wills, ungrateful for the Spirit that is upon them, +they may yet be helmed by that Spirit whithersoever the Governor +listeth; involuntary instruments they may become of others' good; +unwillingly they may bless Israel, doubtingly discomfit Amalek, but +shortcoming there will be of their glory, and sure, of their punishment. + + +§ 9. The second objection arising from the coldness of Christian men to + external beauty. + +I believe I shall be able, incidentally, in succeeding investigations, +to prove this shortcoming, and to examine the sources of it, not +absolutely indeed, (seeing that all reasoning on the characters of men +must be treacherous, our knowledge on this head being as corrupt as it +is scanty, while even in living with them it is impossible to trace the +working, or estimate the errors of great and self-secreted minds,) but +at least enough to establish the general principle upon such grounds of +fact as may satisfy those who demand the practical proof (often in a +measure impossible) of things which can hardly be doubted in their +rational consequence. At present, it would be useless to enter on an +examination for which we have no materials; and I proceed, therefore, to +notice that other and opposite error of Christian men in thinking that +there is little use or value in the operation of the theoretic faculty, +not that I at present either feel myself capable, or that this is the +place for the discussion of that vast question of the operation of taste +(as it is called) on the minds of men, and the national value of its +teaching, but I wish shortly to reply to that objection which might be +urged to the real moral dignity of the faculty, that many Christian men +seem to be in themselves without it, and even to discountenance it in +others. + +It has been said by Schiller, in his letters on ęsthetic culture, that +the sense of beauty never farthered the performance of a single duty. + + +§ 10. Reasons for this coldness in the anxieties of the world. These + anxieties overwrought and criminal. + +§ 11. Evil consequences of such coldness. + +§ 12. Theoria the service of Heaven. + +Although this gross and inconceivable falsity will hardly be accepted by +any one in so many terms, seeing that there are few so utterly lost but +that they receive, and know that they receive, at certain moments, +strength of some kind, or rebuke from the appealings of outward things; +and that it is not possible for a Christian man to walk across so much +as a rood of the natural earth, with mind unagitated and rightly poised, +without receiving strength and hope from some stone, flower, leaf, or +sound, nor without a sense of a dew falling upon him out of the sky; +though, I say, this falsity is not wholly and in terms admitted, yet it +seems to be partly and practically so in much of the doing and teaching +even of holy men, who in the recommending of the love of God to us, +refer but seldom to those things in which it is most abundantly and +immediately shown; though they insist much on his giving of bread, and +raiment, and health, (which he gives to all inferior creatures,) they +require us not to thank him for that glory of his works which he has +permitted us alone to perceive: they tell us often to meditate in the +closet, but they send us not, like Isaac, into the fields at even, they +dwell on the duty of self-denial, but they exhibit not the duty of +delight. Now there are reasons for this, manifold, in the toil and +warfare of an earnest mind, which, in its efforts at the raising of men +from utter loss and misery, has often but little time or disposition to +take heed of anything more than the bare life, and of those so occupied +it is not for us to judge, but I think, that, of the weaknesses, +distresses, vanities, schisms, and sins, which often even in the holiest +men, diminish their usefulness, and mar their happiness, there would be +fewer if, in their struggle with nature fallen, they sought for more aid +from nature undestroyed. It seems to me that the real sources of +bluntness in the feelings towards the splendor of the grass and glory of +the flower, are less to be found in ardor of occupation, in seriousness +of compassion, or heavenliness of desire, than in the turning of the eye +at intervals of rest too selfishly within; the want of power to shake +off the anxieties of actual and near interest, and to leave results in +God's hands; the scorn of all that does not seem immediately apt for our +purposes, or open to our understanding, and perhaps something of pride, +which desires rather to investigate than to feel. I believe that the +root of almost every schism and heresy from which the Christian church +has ever suffered, has been the effort of men to earn, rather than to +receive, their salvation; and that the reason that preaching is so +commonly ineffectual is, that it calls on men oftener to work for God, +than to behold God working for them. If, for every rebuke that we utter +of men's vices, we put forth a claim upon their hearts; if for every +assertion of God's demands from them, we could substitute a display of +his kindness to them; if side by side with every warning of death, we +could exhibit proofs and promises of immortality; if, in fine, instead +of assuming the being of an awful Deity, which men, though they cannot +and dare not deny, are always unwilling, sometimes unable, to conceive, +we were to show them a near, visible, inevitable, but all beneficent +Deity, whose presence makes the earth itself a heaven, I think there +would be fewer deaf children sitting in the market-place. At all events, +whatever may be the inability in this present life to mingle the full +enjoyment of the Divine works with the full discharge of every practical +duty, and confessedly in many cases this must be, let us not attribute +the inconsistency to any indignity of the faculty of contemplation, but +to the sin and the suffering of the fallen state, and the change of +order from the keeping of the garden to the tilling of the ground. We +cannot say how far it is right or agreeable with God's will, while men +are perishing round about us, while grief, and pain, and wrath, and +impiety, and death, and all the powers of the air, are working wildly +and evermore, and the cry of blood going up to heaven, that any of us +should take hand from the plough; but this we know, that there will come +a time when the service of God shall be the beholding of him; and +though in these stormy seas, where we are now driven up and down, his +Spirit is dimly seen on the face of the waters, and we are left to cast +anchors out of the stern, and wish for the day, that day will come, +when, with the evangelists on the crystal and stable sea, all the +creatures of God shall be full of eyes within, and there shall be "no +more curse, but his servants shall serve him, and shall see his face." + + + + + SECTION II. + + OF THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + OF THE THREE FORMS OF IMAGINATION. + + +§ 1. A partial examination only of the imagination is to be attempted. + +We have hitherto been exclusively occupied with those sources of +pleasure which exist in the external creation, and which in any faithful +copy of it must to a certain extent exist also. + +These sources of beauty, however, are not presented by any very great +work of art in a form of pure transcript. They invariably receive the +reflection of the mind under whose shadow they have passed, and are +modified or colored by its image. + +This modification is the Work of Imagination. + +As, in the course of our succeeding investigation, we shall be called +upon constantly to compare sources of beauty existing in nature with the +images of them presented by the human mind, it is very necessary for us +shortly to review the conditions and limits of the imaginative faculty, +and to ascertain by what tests we may distinguish its sane, healthy, and +profitable operation, from that which is erratic, diseased, and +dangerous. + +It is neither desirable nor possible here to examine or illustrate in +full the essence of this mighty faculty. Such an examination would +require a review of the whole field of literature, and would alone +demand a volume. Our present task is not to explain or exhibit full +portraiture of this function of the mind in all its relations, but only +to obtain some certain tests by which we may determine whether it be +very imagination or no, and unmask all impersonations of it, and this +chiefly with respect to art, for in literature the faculty takes a +thousand forms, according to the matter it has to treat, and becomes +like the princess of the Arabian tale, sword, eagle, or fire, according +to the war it wages, sometimes piercing, sometimes soaring, sometimes +illumining, retaining no image of itself, except its supernatural power, +so that I shall content myself with tracing that particular form of it, +and unveiling those imitations of it only, which are to be found, or +feared, in painting, referring to other creations of mind only for +illustration. + + +§ 2. The works of the metaphysicians how nugatory with respect to this + faculty. + +Unfortunately, the works of metaphysicians will afford us in this most +interesting inquiry no aid whatsoever. They who are constantly +endeavoring to fathom and explain the essence of the faculties of mind, +are sure in the end to lose sight of all that cannot be explained, +(though it may be defined and felt,) and because, as I shall presently +show, the essence of the imaginative faculty is utterly mysterious and +inexplicable, and to be recognized in its results only, or in the +negative results of its absence, the metaphysicians, as far as I am +acquainted with their works, miss it altogether, and never reach higher +than a definition of fancy by a false name. + +What I understand by fancy will presently appear, not that I contend for +nomenclature, but only for distinction between two mental faculties, by +whatever name they be called, one the source of all that is great in the +poetic arts; the other merely decorative and entertaining, but which are +often confounded together, and which have so much in common as to render +strict definition of either difficult. + + +§ 3. The definition of D. Stewart, how inadequate. + +Dugald Stewart's meagre definition may serve us for a starting point. +"Imagination," he says, "includes conception or simple apprehension, +which enables us to form a notion of those former objects of perception +or of knowledge, out of which we are to make a selection; abstraction, +which separates the selected materials from the qualities and +circumstances which are connected with them in nature; and judgment or +taste, which selects the materials and directs their combination. To +these powers we may add that particular habit of association to which I +formerly gave the name of fancy, as it is this which presents to our +choice all the different materials which are subservient to the efforts +of imagination, and which may therefore be considered as forming the +ground-work of poetical genius." + +(By fancy in this passage, we find on referring to the chapter treating +of it, that nothing more is meant than the rapid occurrence of ideas of +sense to the mind.) + +Now, in this definition, the very point and purpose of all the inquiry +is missed. We are told that judgment or taste "directs the combination." +In order that anything may be directed, an end must be previously +determined: What is the faculty that determines this end? and of what +frame and make, how boned and fleshed, how conceived or seen, is the end +itself? Bare judgment, or taste, cannot approve of what has no +existence; and yet by Dugald Stewart's definition we are left to their +catering among a host of conceptions, to produce a combination which, as +they work for, they must see and approve before it exists. This power of +prophecy is the very essence of the whole matter, and it is just that +inexplicable part which the metaphysician misses. + + +§ 4. This instance nugatory. + +As might be expected from his misunderstanding of the faculty, he has +given an instance entirely nugatory.[49] It would be difficult to find +in Milton a passage in which less power of imagination was shown, than +the description of Eden, if, as I suppose, this be the passage meant, at +the beginning of the fourth book, in which I can find three expressions +only in which this power is shown, the "_burnished_ with golden rind, +hung amiable" of the Hesperian fruit, the "_lays forth_ her purple +grape" of the vine and the "_fringed_ bank with myrtle crowned," of the +lake, and these are not what Stewart meant, but only that accumulation +of bowers, groves, lawns, and hillocks, which is not imagination at all, +but composition, and that of the commonest kind. Hence, if we take any +passage in which there is real imagination, we shall find Stewart's +hypothesis not only inefficient and obscure, but utterly inapplicable. + + +§ 5. Various instances. + +Take one or two at random. + + "On the other side, + Incensed with indignation, Satan stood + Unterrified, and like a comet burned + That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge + In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair + Shakes pestilence and war." + +(Note that the word incensed is to be taken in its literal and material +sense, set on fire.) What taste or judgment was it that directed this +combination? or is there nothing more than taste or judgment here? + + "Ten paces huge + He back recoiled; the tenth on bended knee + His massy spear upstaid, as if on earth + Winds under ground, or waters forcing way + _Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat + Half-sunk with all his pines._ + + "Together both ere the high lawns appeared + _Under the opening eyelids_ of the morn, + We drove a field, and both together heard + What time the gray-fly winds her _sultry_ horn. + + "Missing thee, I walk unseen + On the dry smooth shaven green. + To behold the wandering moon + Riding near her highest noon, + _Like one that had been led astray_, + Through the heavens' wide pathless way, + And oft _as if her head she bowed_ + Stooping through a fleecy cloud." + +It is evident that Stewart's explanation utterly fails in all these +instances, for there is in them no "combination" whatsoever, but a +particular mode of regarding the qualities or appearances of a single +thing, illustrated and conveyed to us by the image of another; and the +act of imagination, observe, is not the selection of this image, but the +mode of regarding the object. + +But the metaphysician's definition fails yet more utterly, when we look +at the imagination neither as regarding, nor combining, but as +penetrating. + + "My gracious Silence, Hail: + Wouldst thou have laughed, had I come coffin'd home + That weep'st to see me triumph. Ah! my dear, + Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, + And mothers that lack sons." + +How did Shakspeare _know_ that Virgilia could not speak? + +This knowledge, this intuitive and penetrative perception, is still one +of the forms, the highest, of imagination, but there is no combination +of images here. + + +§ 6. The three operations of the imagination. Penetrative, associative, + contemplative. + +We find, then, that the imagination has three totally distinct +functions. It combines, and by combination creates new forms; but the +secret principle of this combination has not been shown by the analysts. +Again, it treats or regards both the simple images and its own +combinations in peculiar ways; and, thirdly, it penetrates, analyzes, +and reaches truths by no other faculty discoverable. These its three +functions, I shall endeavor to illustrate, but not in this order: the +most logical mode of treatment would be to follow the order in which +commonly the mind works; that is, penetrating first, combining next, and +treating or regarding, finally; but this arrangement would be +inconvenient, because the acts of penetration and of regard are so +closely connected, and so like in their relations to other mental acts, +that I wish to examine them consecutively, and the rather, because they +have to do with higher subject matter than the mere act of combination, +whose distinctive nature, that property which makes it imagination and +not composition, it will I think be best to explain at setting out, as +we easily may, in subjects familiar and material. I shall therefore +examine the imaginative faculty in these three forms; first, as +combining or associative; secondly, as analytic or penetrative; thirdly, +as regardant or contemplative. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [49] He continues thus, "To illustrate these observations, let us + consider the steps by which Milton must have proceeded, in creating + his imaginary garden of Eden. When he first proposed to himself that + subject of description, it is reasonable to suppose that a variety + of the most striking scenes which he had seen, crowded into his + mind. The association of ideas suggested them and the power of + conception placed each of them before him with all its beauties and + imperfections. In every natural scene, if we destine it for any + particular purpose, there are defects and redundancies, which art + may sometimes, but cannot always correct. But the power of + imagination is unlimited. She can create and annihilate, and dispose + at pleasure her woods, her rocks, and her rivers. Milton, + accordingly, would not copy his Eden from any one scene, but would + select from each the features which were most eminently beautiful. + The power of abstraction enabled him to make the separation, and + taste directed him in the selection." + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + OF IMAGINATION ASSOCIATIVE. + + +§ 1. Of simple conception. + +In order to render our inquiry as easy as possible, we shall consider +the dealing of the associative imagination with the simplest possible +matter, that is,--with conceptions of material things. First, therefore, +we must define the nature of these conceptions themselves. + +After beholding and examining any material object, our knowledge +respecting it exists in two different forms. Some facts exist in the +brain in a verbal form, as known, but not conceived, as, for instance, +that it was heavy or light, that it was eight inches and a quarter long, +etc., of which length we cannot have accurate conception, but only such +a conception as might attach to a length of seven inches or nine; and +which fact we may recollect without any conception of the object at all. +Other facts respecting it exist in the brain in a visible form, not +always visible, but voluntarily visible, as its being white, or having +such and such a complicated shape, as the form of a rose-bud, for +instance, which it would be difficult to express verbally, neither is it +retained by the brain in a verbal form, but a visible one, that is, when +we wish for knowledge of its form for immediate use, we summon up a +vision or image of the thing; we do not remember it in words, as we +remember the fact that it took so many days to blow, or that it was +gathered at such and such a time. + +The knowledge of things retained in this visible form is called +conception by the metaphysicians, which term I shall retain; it is +inaccurately called imagination by Taylor, in the passage quoted by +Wordsworth in the preface to his poems, not but that the term +imagination is etymologically and rightly expressive of it, but we want +that term for a higher faculty. + + +§ 2. How connected with verbal knowledge. + +There are many questions respecting this faculty of conception of very +great interest, such as the exact amount of aid that verbal knowledge +renders so visible, (as, for instance, the verbal knowledge that a +flower has five, or seven, or ten petals, or that a muscle is inserted +at such and such a point of the bone, aids the conception of the flower +or the limb;) and again, what amount of aid the visible knowledge +renders to the verbal, as for instance, whether any one, being asked a +question about some animal or thing, which instantly and from verbal +knowledge he cannot answer, may have such power of summoning up the +image of the animal or thing as to ascertain the fact, by actual +beholding, (which I do not assert, but can conceive to be possible;) and +again, what is that indefinite and subtile character of the conception +itself in most men, which admits not of being by themselves traced or +realized, and yet is a sure test of likeness in any representation of +the thing; like an intaglio, with a front light on it, whose lines +cannot be seen, and yet they will fit one definite form only, and that +accurately; these and many other questions it is irrelevant at present +to determine,[50] since to forward our present purpose, it will be well +to suppose the conception, aided by verbal knowledge, to be absolutely +perfect, and we will suppose a man to retain such clear image of a large +number of the material things he has seen, as to be able to set down any +of them on paper with perfect fidelity and absolute memory[51] of their +most minute features. + +In thus setting them down on paper, he works, I suppose, exactly as he +would work from nature, only copying the remembered image in his mind, +instead of the real thing. He is, therefore, still nothing more than a +copyist. There is no exercise of imagination in this whatsoever. + + +§ 3. How used in composition. + +But over these images, vivid and distinct as nature herself, he has a +command which over nature he has not. He can summon any that he chooses, +and if, therefore, any group of them which he received from nature be +not altogether to his mind, he is at liberty to remove some of the +component images, add others foreign, and re-arrange the whole. + +Let us suppose, for instance, that he has perfect knowledge of the forms +of the Aiguilles Verte and Argentičre, and of the great glacier between +them at the upper extremity of the valley of Chamonix. The forms of the +mountains please him, but the presence of the glacier suits not his +purpose. He removes the glacier, sets the mountains farther apart, and +introduces between them part of the valley of the Rhone. + +This is composition, and is what Dugald Stewart mistook for imagination, +in the kingdom of which noble faculty it has no part nor lot. + + +§ 4. Characteristics of composition. + +The essential characters of composition, properly so called, are these. +The mind which desires the new feature summons up before it those images +which it supposes to be of the kind wanted, of these it takes the one +which it supposes to be fittest, and tries it: if it will not answer, it +tries another, until it has obtained such an association as pleases it. + +In this operation, if it be of little sensibility, it regards only the +absolute beauty or value of the images brought before it; and takes that +or those which it thinks fairest or most interesting, without any regard +to their sympathy with those for whose company they are destined. Of +this kind is all vulgar composition; the "Mulino" of Claude, described +in the preface to the first part, being a characteristic example. + +If the mind be of higher feeling, it will look to the sympathy or +contrast of the features, to their likeness or dissimilarity; it will +take, as it thinks best, features resembling or discordant, and if when +it has put them together, it be not satisfied, it will repeat the +process on the features themselves, cutting away one part and putting in +another, so working more and more delicately down to the lowest details, +until by dint of experiment, of repeated trials and shiftings, and +constant reference to principles, (as that two lines must not mimic one +another, that one mass must not be equal to another,) etc., it has +morticed together a satisfactory result. + + +§ 5. What powers are implied by it. The first of the three functions of + fancy. + +This process will be more and more rapid and effective, in proportion to +the artist's powers of conception and association, these in their turn +depending on his knowledge and experience. The distinctness of his +powers of conception will give value, point, and truth to every fragment +that he draws from memory. His powers of association, and his knowledge +of nature will pour out before him in greater or less number and +appositeness the images from which to choose. His experience guides him +to quick discernment in the combination, when made, of the parts that +are offensive and require change. + +The most elevated power of mind of all these, is that of association, by +which images apposite or resemblant, or of whatever kind wanted, are +called up quickly and in multitudes. When this power is very brilliant, +it is called fancy, not that this is the only meaning of the word fancy, +but it is the meaning of it in relation to that function of the +imagination which we are here considering; for fancy has three +functions; one subordinate to each of the three functions of the +imagination. + +Great differences of power are manifested among artists in this respect, +some having hosts of distinct images always at their command, and +rapidly discerning resemblance or contrast; others having few images, +and obscure, at their disposal, nor readily governing those they have. + +Where the powers of fancy are very brilliant, the picture becomes highly +interesting; if her images are systematically and rightly combined, and +truthfully rendered, it will become even impressive and instructive; if +wittily and curiously combined, it will be captivating and entertaining. + + +§ 6. Imagination not yet manifested. + +But all this time the imagination has not once shown itself. All this +(except the gift of fancy) may be taught, all this is easily +comprehended and analyzed; but imagination is neither to be taught, nor +by any efforts to be attained, nor by any acuteness of discernment +dissected or analyzed. + +We have seen that in composition the mind can only take cognizance of +likeness or dissimilarity, or of abstract beauty among the ideas it +brings together. But neither likeness nor dissimilarity secures harmony. +We saw in the chapter on unity that likeness destroyed harmony or unity +of membership, and that difference did not necessarily secure it, but +only that particular imperfection in each of the harmonizing parts which +can only be supplied by its fellow part. If, therefore, the combination +made is to be harmonious, the artist must induce in each of its +component parts (suppose two only, for simplicity's sake,) such +imperfection as that the other shall put it right. If one of them be +perfect by itself, the other will be an excrescence. Both must be faulty +when separate, and each corrected by the presence of the other. If he +can accomplish this, the result will be beautiful; it will be a whole, +an organized body with dependent members;--he is an inventor. If not, +let his separate features be as beautiful, as apposite, or as resemblant +as they may, they form no whole. They are two members glued together. He +is only a carpenter and joiner. + + +§ 7. Imagination is the correlative conception of imperfect component + parts. + +Now, the conceivable imperfections of any single feature are infinite. +It is impossible, therefore, to fix upon a form of imperfection in the +one, and try with this all the forms of imperfection of the other until +one fits; but the two imperfections must be corelatively and +simultaneously conceived. + +This is imagination, properly so called, imagination associative, the +grandest mechanical power that the human intelligence possesses, and one +which will appear more and more marvellous the longer we consider it. By +its operation, two ideas are chosen out of an infinite mass, (for it +evidently matters not whether the imperfections be conceived out of the +infinite number conceivable, or selected out of a number recollected,) +two ideas which are separately wrong, which together shall be right, and +of whose unity, therefore, the idea must be formed at the instant they +are seized, as it is only in that unity that either are good, and +therefore only the _conception of that unity can prompt the preference_. +Now, what is that prophetic action of mind, which, out of an infinite +mass of things that cannot be tried together, seizes, at the same +instant two that are fit for each other, together right; yet each +disagreeable alone. + + +§ 8. Material analogy with imagination. + +This operation of mind, so far as I can see, is absolutely +inexplicable, but there is something like it in chemistry. + +"The action of sulphuric acid on metallic zinc affords an instance of +what was once called disposing affinity. Zinc decomposes pure water at +common temperatures with extreme slowness; but as soon as sulphuric acid +is added, decomposition of the water takes place rapidly, though the +acid merely unites with oxide of zinc. The former explanation was, that +the affinity of the acid for oxide of zinc disposed the metal to unite +with oxygen, and thus enabled it to decompose water; that is, the oxide +of zinc was supposed to produce an effect previous to its existence. The +obscurity of this explanation arises from regarding changes as +consecutive, which are in reality simultaneous. There is no succession +in the process, the oxide of zinc is not formed previously to its +combination with the acid, but at the same instant. There is, as it +were, but one chemical change, which consists in the combination at one +and the same moment of zinc with oxygen, and of oxide of zinc with the +acid; and this change occurs because these two affinities, acting +together, overcome the attraction of oxygen and hydrogen for one +another."[52] + +Now, if the imaginative artist will permit us, with all deference, to +represent his combining intelligence under the figure of sulphuric acid; +and if we suppose the fragment of zinc to be embarrassed among +infinitely numerous fragments of diverse metals, and the oxygen +dispersed and mingled among gases countless and indistinguishable, we +shall have an excellent type in material things of the action of the +imagination on the immaterial. Both actions are, I think, inexplicable, +for however simultaneous the chemical changes may be, yet the causing +power is the affinity of the acid for what has no existence. It is +neither to be explained how that affinity operates on atoms uncombined, +nor how the artist's desire for an unconceived whole prompts him to the +selection of necessary divisions. + + +§ 9. The grasp and dignity of imagination. + +Now, this operation would be wonderful enough, if it were concerned with +two ideas only. But a powerfully imaginative mind seizes and combines +at the same instant, not only two, but all the important ideas of its +poem or picture, and while it works with any one of them, it is at the +same instant working with and modifying all in their relations to it, +never losing sight of their bearings on each other; as the motion of a +snake's body goes through all parts at once, and its volition acts at +the same instant in coils that go contrary ways. + +This faculty is indeed something that looks as if man were made after +the image of God. It is inconceivable, admirable, altogether divine; and +yet wonderful as it may seem, it is palpably evident that no less an +operation is necessary for the production of any great work, for, by the +definition of unity of membership, (the essential characteristic of +greatness,) not only certain couples or groups of parts, but _all_ the +parts of a noble work must be separately imperfect; each must imply, and +ask for all the rest, and the glory of every one of them must consist in +its relation to the rest, neither while so much as one is wanting can +any be right. And it is evidently impossible to conceive in each +separate feature, a certain want or wrongness which can only be +corrected by the other features of the picture, (not by one or two +merely, but by all,) unless together with the want, we conceive also of +what is wanted, that is of all the rest of the work or picture. Hence +Fuseli:-- + +"Second thoughts are admissible in painting and poetry only as dressers +of the first conception; no great idea was ever formed in fragments." + +"He alone can conceive and compose who sees the whole at once before +him." + + +§ 10. Its limits. + +There is, however, a limit to the power of all human imagination. When +the relations to be observed are absolutely necessary, and highly +complicated, the mind cannot grasp them, and the result is a total +deprivation of all power of imagination associative in such matter. For +this reason, no human mind has ever conceived a new animal. For as it is +evident that in an animal, every part implies all the rest; that is, the +form of the eye involves the form of the brow and nose, these the form +of the forehead and lip, these of the head and chin, and so on, so that +it is physically impossible to conceive of any one of these members, +unless we conceive the relation it bears to the whole animal; and as +this relation is necessary, certain, and complicated, allowing of no +license or inaccuracy, the intellect utterly fails under the load, and +is reduced to mere composition, putting the bird's wing on men's +shoulders, or half the human body to half the horse's, in doing which +there is no action of imagination, but only of fancy; though in the +treatment and contemplation of the compound form there may be much +imagination, as we shall presently see. (Chap. III. § 30.) + + +§ 11. How manifested in treatment of uncertain relations. Its deficiency + illustrated. + +The matter, therefore, in which associative imagination can be shown is +that which admits of great license and variety of arrangements, and in +which a certain amount of relation only is required; as especially in +the elements of landscape painting, in which best it may be illustrated. + +When an unimaginative painter is about to draw a tree, (and we will +suppose him, for better illustration of the point in question, to have +good feeling and correct knowledge of the nature of trees,) he probably +lays on his paper such a general form as he knows to be characteristic +of the tree to be drawn, and such as he believes will fall in agreeably +with the other masses of his picture, which we will suppose partly +prepared. When this form is set down, he assuredly finds it has done +something he did not intend it to do. It has mimicked some prominent +line, or overpowered some necessary mass. He begins pruning and +changing, and after several experiments, succeeds in obtaining a form +which does no material mischief to any other. To this form he proceeds +to attach a trunk, and having probably a received notion or rule (for +the unimaginative painter never works without a principle) that tree +trunks ought to lean first one way and then the other as they go up, and +ought not to stand under the middle of the tree, he sketches a +serpentine form of requisite propriety; when it has gone up far enough, +that is till it begins to look disagreeably long, he will begin to +ramify it, and if there be another tree in the picture with two large +branches, he knows that this, by all laws of composition, ought to have +three or four, or some different number; one because he knows that if +three or four branches start from the same point they will look formal, +therefore he makes them start from points one above another, and because +equal distances are improper, therefore they shall start at unequal +distances. When they are fairly started, he knows they must undulate or +go backwards and forwards, which accordingly he makes them do at random; +and because he knows that all forms ought to be contrasted, therefore he +makes one bend down while the other three go up. The three that go up he +knows must not go up without interfering with each other, and so he +makes two of them cross. He thinks it also proper that there should be +variety of character in them, so he makes the one that bends down +graceful and flexible, and of the two that cross, he splinters one and +makes a stump of it. He repeats the process among the more complicated +minor boughs, until coming to the smallest, he thinks farther care +unnecessary, but draws them freely, and by chance. Having to put on the +foliage, he will make it flow properly in the direction of the tree's +growth, he will make all the extremities graceful, but will be +grievously plagued by finding them come all alike, and at last will be +obliged to spoil a number of them altogether, in order to obtain +opposition. They will not, however, be united in this their spoliation, +but will remain uncomfortably separate and individually ill-tempered. He +consoles himself by the reflection that it is unnatural for all of them +to be equally perfect. + + +§ 12. Laws of art, the safeguard of the unimaginative. + +Now I suppose that through the whole of this process he has been able to +refer to his definite memory or conception of nature for every one of +the fragments he has successively added, that the details, color, +fractures, insertions, etc., of his boughs, are all either actual +recollections or based on secure knowledge of the tree, (and herein I +allow far more than is commonly the case with unimaginative painters.) +But as far as the process of combination is concerned, it is evident +that from beginning to end his laws have been his safety, and his plague +has been his liberty. He has been compelled to work at random, or under +the guidance of feeling only, whenever there was anything left to his +own decision. He has never been decided in anything except in what he +_must_ or _must not_ do. He has walked as a drunken man on a broad road, +his guides are the hedges; and between these limits, the broader the +way, the worse he gets on. + + +§ 13. Are by the imaginative painter despised. Tests of imagination. + +The advance of the imaginative artist is precisely the reverse of this. +He has no laws. He defies all restraint, and cuts down all hedges. There +is nothing within the limits of natural possibility that he dares not +do, or that he allows the necessity of doing. The laws of nature he +knows, are to him no restraint. They are his own nature. All other laws +or limits he sets at utter defiance, his journey is over an untrodden +and pathless plain. But he sees his end over the waste from the first, +and goes straight at it, never losing sight of it, nor throwing away a +step. Nothing can stop him, nothing turn him aside; falcons and lynxes +are of slow and uncertain sight compared with his. He saw his tree, +trunk, boughs, foliage and all, from the first moment; not only the tree +but the sky behind it; not only that tree or sky, but all the other +great features of his picture: by what intense power of instantaneous +selection and amalgamation cannot be explained, but by this it may be +proved and tested, that if we examine the tree of the unimaginative +painter, we shall find that on removing any part or parts of it, the +rest will indeed suffer, as being deprived of the proper development of +a tree, and as involving a blank space that wants occupation; but the +portions left are not made discordant or disagreeable. They are +absolutely and in themselves as valuable as they can be, every stem is a +perfect stem, and every twig a graceful twig, or at least as perfect and +as graceful as they were before the removal of the rest. But if we try +the same experiment on the imaginative painter's work, and break off the +merest stem or twig of it, it all goes to pieces like a Prince Rupert's +drop. There is not so much as a seed of it but it lies on the tree's +life, like the grain upon the tongue of Chaucer's sainted child. Take it +away, and the boughs will sing to us no longer. All is dead and cold. + + +§ 14. The monotony of unimaginative treatment. + +This then is the first sign of the presence of real imagination as +opposed to composition. But here is another not less important. + + +§ 15. Imagination never repeats itself. + +We have seen that as each part is selected and fitted by the +unimaginative painter, he renders it, in itself, as beautiful as he is +able. If it be ugly, it remains so, he is incapable of correcting it by +the addition of another ugliness, and therefore he chooses all his +features as fair as they may be (at least if his object be beauty.) But +a small proportion only of the ideas he has at his disposal will reach +his standard of absolute beauty. The others will be of no use to him, +and among those which he permits himself to use, there will be so marked +a family likeness, that he will be more and more cramped, as his picture +advances, for want of material, and tormented by multiplying +resemblances, unless disguised by some artifice of light and shade or +other forced difference, and with all the differences he can imagine, +his tree will yet show a sameness and sickening repetition in all its +parts, and all his trees will be like one another, except so far as one +leans east and another west, one is broadest at the top and another at +the bottom, while through all this insipid repetition, the means by +which he forces contrast, dark boughs opposed to light, rugged to +smooth, etc., will be painfully evident, to the utter destruction of all +dignity and repose. The imaginative work is necessarily the absolute +opposite of all this. As all its parts are imperfect, and as there is an +unlimited supply of imperfection, (for the ways in which things may be +wrong are infinite,) the imagination is never at a loss, nor ever likely +to repeat itself; nothing comes amiss to it, but whatever rude matter it +receives, it instantly so arranges that it comes right; all things fall +into their place and appear in that place perfect, useful, and evidently +not to be spared, so that of its combinations there is endless variety, +and every intractable and seemingly unavailable fragment that we give to +it, is instantly turned to some brilliant use, and made the nucleus of a +new group of glory; however poor or common the gift, it will be thankful +for it, treasure it up, and pay in gold, and it has that life in it and +fire, that wherever it passes, among the dead bones and dust of things, +behold a shaking, and the bones come together, bone to his bone. + + +§ 16. Relation of the imaginative faculty to the theoretic. + +And now we find what noble sympathy and unity there is between the +imaginative and theoretic faculties. Both agree in this, that they +reject nothing, and are thankful for all; but the theoretic faculty +takes out of everything that which is beautiful, while the imaginative +faculty takes hold of the very imperfections which the theoretic +rejects, and by means of these angles and roughnesses, it joints and +bolts the separate stones into a mighty temple, wherein the theoretic +faculty in its turn, does deepest homage. Thus sympathetic in their +desires, harmoniously diverse in their operation, each working for the +other with what the other needs not, all things external to man are by +one or other turned to good. + + +§ 17. Modification of its manifestation. + +Now we have hitherto, for the sake of clearness, opposed the total +absence of imagination to the perfect presence of it, in order to make +the difference between composition and imagination thoroughly +understood. But if we are to give examples of either the want or the +presence of the power, it is necessary to note the circumstances by +which both are modified. In the first place, few artists of any standing +are totally devoid of this faculty, some small measure of it most of +them possess, though of all the forms of intellect, this, and its +sister, penetrative imagination, are the rarest and most precious; but +few painters have reached eminence without some leaven of it, whether it +can be increased by practice I doubt. On the other hand, fewer still are +possessed of it in very high degree, and even with the men of most +gigantic power in this respect, of whom, I think, Tintoret stands far +the head, there are evident limits to its exercise, and portions to be +found in their works that have not been included in the original grasp +of them, but have been suggested and incorporated during their progress, +or added in decoration; and with the great mass of painters there are +frequent flaws and failures in the conception, so that, when they intend +to produce a perfect work they throw their thought into different +experimental forms, and decorate it and discipline it long before +realizing it, so that there is a certain amount of mere composition in +the most imaginative works; and a grain or two of imagination commonly +in the most artificial. And again, whatever portions of a picture are +taken honestly and without alteration from nature, have, so far as they +go, the look of imagination, because all that nature does is +imaginative, that is, perfect as a whole, and made up of imperfect +features; so that the painter of the meanest imaginative power may yet +do grand things, if he will keep to strict portraiture, and it would be +well if all artists were to endeavor to do so, for if they have +imagination, it will force its way in spite of them, and show itself in +their every stroke, and if not, they will not get it by leaving nature, +but only sink into nothingness. + + +§ 18. Instances of absence of imagination.--Claude, Gaspar Poussin. + +Keeping these points in view, it is interesting to observe the different +degrees and relations of the imagination, as accompanied with more or +less feeling or desire of harmony, vigor of conception, or constancy of +reference to truth. Of men of name, perhaps Claude is the best instance +of a want of imagination, nearly total, borne out by painful but +untaught study of nature, and much feeling for abstract beauty of form, +with none whatever for harmony of expression. In Gaspar Poussin, we have +the same want of imagination disguised by more masculine qualities of +mind, and grander reachings after sympathy. Thus in the sacrifice of +Isaac in our own gallery, the spirit of the composition is solemn and +unbroken; it would have been a grand picture if the forms of the mass of +foliage on the right, and of the clouds in the centre, had not been +hopelessly unimaginative. The stormy wind of the picture of Dido and +Eneas blows loudly through its leaves, but the total want of invention +in the cloud forms bears it down beyond redemption. The foreground tree +of the La Riccia (compare Part II. Sec. VI. Chap. I., § 6.) is another +characteristic instance of absolute nullity of imagination. + +[Illustration: THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI. From a painting by Ruskin, +after Tintoret.] + + +§ 19. Its presence.--Salvator, Nicolo Poussin, Titian, Tintoret. + +In Salvator, the imagination is vigorous, the composition dextrous and +clever, as in the St. Jerome of the Brera Gallery, the Diogenes of the +Pitti, and the pictures of the Guadagni palace. All are rendered +valueless by coarseness of feeling and habitual non-reference to nature. + +All the landscape of Nicolo Poussin is imaginative, but the development +of the power in Tintoret and Titian is so unapproachably intense that +the mind unwillingly rests elsewhere. The four landscapes which occur to +me as the most magnificently characteristic are, first, the Flight into +Egypt, of the Scuola di San Rocco (Tintoret;) secondly, the Titian of +the Camuccini collection at Rome, with the figures by John Bellini; +thirdly, Titian's St. Jerome, in the Brera Gallery at Milan; and +fourthly, the St. Pietro Martire, which I name last, in spite of its +importance, because there is something unmeaning and unworthy of Titian +about the undulation of the trunks, and the upper part of it is +destroyed by the intrusion of some dramatic clouds of that species which +I have enough described in our former examination of the central cloud +region, § 13. + +I do not mean to set these four works above the rest of the landscape of +these masters; I name them only because the landscape is in them +prominent and characteristic. It would be well to compare with them the +other backgrounds of Tintoret in the Scuola, especially that of the +Temptation and the Agony in the Garden, and the landscape of the two +large pictures in the church of La Madonna dell' Orto. + + +§ 20. And Turner. + +But for immediate and close illustration, it is perhaps best to refer to +a work more accessible, the Cephalus and Procris of Turner, in Liber +Studiorum. + +I know of no landscape more purely or magnificently imaginative or +bearing more distinct evidence of the relative and simultaneous +conception of the parts. Let the reader first cover with his hand the +two trunks that rise against the sky on the right, and ask himself how +any termination of the central mass so _ugly_ as the straight trunk +which he will then painfully see, could have been conceived or admitted +without simultaneous conception of the trunks he has taken away on the +right? Let him again conceal the whole central mass, and leave these two +only, and again ask himself whether anything so ugly as that bare trunk +in the shape of a Y, could have been admitted without reference to the +central mass? Then let him remove from this trunk its two arms, and try +the effect; let him again remove the single trunk on the extreme right; +then let him try the third trunk without the excrescence at the bottom +of it; finally, let him conceal the fourth trunk from the right, with +the slender boughs at the top; he will find in each case that he has +destroyed a feature on which everything else depends, and if proof be +required of the vital power of still smaller features, let him remove +the sunbeam that comes through beneath the faint mass of trees on the +hill in the distance.[53] + +It is useless to enter into farther particulars; the reader may be left +to his own close examination of this and of the other works of Turner, +in which he will always find the associative imagination developed in +the most profuse and marvellous modes, especially in the drawing of +foliage and skies, in both of which the presence or absence of the +associative power may best be tested in all artists. I have, however, +confined my present illustrations chiefly to foliage, because other +operations of the imagination besides the associative, interfere +extensively in the treatment of sky. + + +§ 21. The due function of Associative Imagination with respect to + nature. + +There remains but one question to be determined relating to this +faculty, what operation, namely, supposing it possessed in high degree, +it has or ought to have in the artist's treatment of natural scenery. + +I have just said that nature is always imaginative, but it does not +follow that her imagination is always of high subject, or that the +imagination of all the parts is of a like and sympathetic kind; the +boughs of every bramble bush are imaginatively arranged, so are those of +every oak and cedar; but it does not follow that there is imaginative +sympathy between bramble and cedar. There are few natural scenes whose +harmonies are not conceivably improvable either by banishment of some +discordant point, or by addition of some sympathetic one; it constantly +happens that there is a profuseness too great to be comprehended, or an +inequality in the pitch, meaning, and intensity of different parts. The +imagination will banish all that is extraneous, it will seize out of the +many threads of different feeling which nature has suffered to become +entangled, one only, and where that seems thin and likely to break, it +will spin it stouter, and in doing this, it never knots, but weaves in +the new thread, so that all its work looks as pure and true as nature +itself, and cannot be guessed from it but by its exceeding simplicity, +(_known_ from it, it cannot be,) so that herein we find another test of +the imaginative work, that it looks always as if it had been gathered +straight from nature, whereas the unimaginative shows its joints and +knots, and is visibly composition. + + +§ 22. The sign of imaginative work is its appearance of absolute truth. + +And here then we arrive at an important conclusion (though one somewhat +contrary to the positions commonly held on the subject,) namely, that if +anything looks unnatural, there can be no imagination in it (at least +not associative.) We frequently hear works that have no truth in them, +justified or elevated on the score of being imaginative. Let it be +understood once for all, that imagination never designs to touch +anything but truth, and though it does not follow that where there is +the appearance of truth, there has been imaginative operation, of this +we may be assured, that where there is appearance of falsehood, the +imagination has had no hand.[54] + +For instance, the landscape above mentioned of Titian's St. Jerome may, +for aught I know, be a pure transcript of a rocky slope covered with +chestnuts among his native mountains. It has all the look of a sketch +from nature; if it be not, the imagination developed in it is of the +highest order; if it be, the imagination has only acted in the +suggestion of the dark sky, of the shape of the flakes of solemn cloud, +and of the gleam of russet light along the distant ground.[55] + +Again, it is impossible to tell whether the two nearest trunks of the +Ęsacus and Hesperie of the Liber Studiorum, especially the large one on +the right with the ivy, have been invented, or taken straight from +nature, they have all the look of accurate portraiture. I can hardly +imagine anything so perfect to have been obtained except from the real +thing; but we know that the imagination must have begun to operate +somewhere, we cannot tell where, since the multitudinous harmonies of +the rest of the picture could hardly in any real scene have continued so +inviolately sweet. + +The final tests, therefore, of the work of associative imagination are +its intense simplicity, its perfect harmony, and its absolute truth. It +may be a harmony, majestic, or humble, abrupt, or prolonged, but it is +always a governed and perfect whole, evidencing in all its relations the +weight, prevalence, and universal dominion of an awful, inexplicable +Power; a chastising, animating, and disposing Mind. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [50] Compare Chapter IV. of this Section. + + [51] On the distinction rightly made by the metaphysicians between + conception absolute and conception accompanied by reference to past + time, (or memory,) it is of no necessity here to insist. + + [52] Elements of Chemistry, by the late Edward Turner, M.D. Part II. + Sec. IV. + + [53] This ray of light, however, has an imaginative power of another + kind presently to be spoken of. Compare Chap. IV. § 18. + + [54] Compare Chap. III. §30. + + [55] It is said at Venice that Titian took the trees of the St. + Pietro Martiere out of his garden opposite Murano. I think this + unlikely; there is something about the lower trunks that has a taint + of composition: the thought of the whole, however, is thoroughly + fine. The backgrounds of the frescoes at Padua are also very + characteristic, and the well-known woodcut of St. Francis receiving + the stigmata, one of the mightiest of existing landscape thoughts; + and yet it is pure portraiture of pine and Spanish chestnut. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + OF IMAGINATION PENETRATIVE. + + +§ 1. Imagination penetrative is concerned not with the combining but + apprehending of things. + +Thus far we have been defining that combining operation of the +imagination, which appears to be in a sort mechanical, yet takes place +in the same inexplicable modes, whatever be the order of conception +submitted to it, though I chose to illustrate it by its dealings with +mere matter before taking cognizance of any nobler subjects of imagery. +We must now examine the dealing of the imagination with its separate +conceptions, and endeavor to understand not only its principles of +selection, but its modes of apprehension with respect to what it +selects. + + +§ 2. Milton's and Dante's description of flame. + +When Milton's Satan first "rears from off the pool, his mighty stature," +the image of Leviathan before suggested not being yet abandoned, the +effect on the fire-wave is described as of the upheaved monster on the +ocean stream. + + "On each hand the flames, + Driven backwards, slope their pointing spires, + and rolled + In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale." + +And then follows a fiercely restless piece of volcanic imagery. + + "As when the force + Of subterranean wind transports a hill + Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side + Of thundering Ętna, whose combustible + And fuell'd entrails thence conceiving fire, + Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, + And leave a singed bottom, all involved + With stench and smoke; such resting found the sole + Of unblest feet." + +Yet I think all this is too far detailed, and deals too much with +externals; we feel rather the form of the fire-waves than their fury, we +walk upon them too securely, and the fuel, sublimation, smoke, and +singeing, seem to me images only of partial combustion; they vary and +extend the conception, but they lower the thermometer. Look back, if you +will, and add to the description the glimmering of the livid flames; the +sulphurous hail and red lightning; yet altogether, however they +overwhelm us with horror, fail of making us thoroughly, unendurably hot. +The intense essence of flame has not been given. Now hear Dante:-- + + "Feriami 'l Sole in su l'omero destro + Che gią raggiando tutto l'Occidente + _Mutava in bianco aspetto di eilestro. + Ed io_ facea _con l'ombra pił rovente + Parer la flamma_." + +That is a slight touch; he has not gone to Ętna nor Pelorus for fuel; +but we shall not soon recover from it--he has taken our breath away and +leaves us gasping. No smoke nor cinders there. Pure, white, hurtling, +formless flame; very fire crystal, we cannot make spires nor waves of +it, nor divide it, nor walk on it, there is no question about singeing +soles of feet. It is lambent annihilation. + + +§ 3. The imagination seizes always by the innermost point. + +Such is always the mode in which the highest imaginative faculty seizes +its materials. It never stops at crusts or ashes, or outward images of +any kind, it ploughs them all aside, and plunges into the very central +fiery heart, nothing else will content its spirituality, whatever +semblances and various outward shows and phases its subject may possess, +go for nothing, it gets within all fence, cuts down to the root, and +drinks the very vital sap of that it deals with: once there it is at +liberty to throw up what new shoots it will, so always that the true +juice and sap be in them, and to prune and twist them at its pleasure, +and bring them to fairer fruit than grew on the old tree; but all this +pruning and twisting is work that it likes not, and often does ill; its +function and gift are the getting at the root, its nature and dignity +depend on its holding things always by the heart. Take its hand from off +the beating of that, and it will prophesy no longer; it looks not in the +eyes, it judges not by the voice, it describes not by outward features, +all that it affirms, judges, or describes, it affirms from within. + + +§ 4. It acts intuitively and without reasoning. + +It may seem to the reader that I am incorrect in calling this +penetrating, possession-taking faculty, imagination. Be it so, the name +is of little consequence; the faculty itself, called by what name we +will, I insist upon as the highest intellectual power of man. There is +no reasoning in it, it works not by algebra, nor by integral calculus, +it is a piercing, Pholas-like mind's tongue that works and tastes into +the very rock heart, no matter what be the subject submitted to it, +substance or spirit, all is alike, divided asunder, joint and marrow, +whatever utmost truth, life, principle, it has, laid bare, and that +which has no truth, life, nor principle, dissipated into its original +smoke at a touch. The whispers at men's ears it lifts into visible +angels. Vials that have lain sealed in the deep sea a thousand years it +unseals, and brings out of them Genii. + +Every great conception of poet or painter is held and treated by this +faculty. Every character that is so much as touched by men like +Ęschylus, Homer, Dante, or Shakspeare, is by them held by the heart; and +every circumstance or sentence of their being, speaking, or seeming, is +seized by process from within, and is referred to that inner secret +spring of which the hold is never lost for an instant; so that every +sentence, as it has been thought out from the heart, opens for us a way +down to the heart, leads us to the centre, and then leaves us to gather +what more we may; it is the open sesame of a huge, obscure, endless +cave, with inexhaustible treasure of pure gold scattered in it: the +wandering about and gathering the pieces may be left to any of us, all +can accomplish that; but the first opening of that invisible door in the +rock is of the imagination only. + + +§ 5. Signs of it in language. + +Hence there is in every word set down by the imaginative mind an awful +under-current of meaning, and evidence and shadow upon it of the deep +places out of which it has come. It is often obscure, often half told, +for he who wrote it, in his clear seeing of the things beneath, may have +been impatient of detailed interpretation, but if we choose to dwell +upon it and trace it, it will lead us always securely back to that +metropolis of the soul's dominion from which we may follow out all the +ways and tracks to its farthest coasts. + +I think the "Quel giorno pił non vi leggemmo avante" of Francesca di +Rimini, and the "He has no children" of Macduff are as fine instances as +can be given, but the sign and mark of it are visible on every line of +the four great men above instanced. + + +§ 6. Absence of imagination, how shown. + +The imaginative writer, on the other hand, as he has never pierced to +the heart, so he can never touch it: if he has to paint a passion, he +remembers the external signs of it, he collects expressions of it from +other writers, he searches for similes, he composes, exaggerates, heaps +term on term, figure on figure, till we groan beneath the cold, +disjointed heap; but it is all faggot and no fire, the life breath is +not in it, his passion has the form of the Leviathan, but it never makes +the deep boil, he fastens us all at anchor in the scaly rind of it, our +sympathies remain as idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean. + +And that virtue of originality that men so strain after, is not newness, +as they vainly think, (there is nothing new,) it is only genuineness; it +all depends on this single glorious faculty of getting to the spring of +things and working out from that; it is the coolness, and clearness, and +deliciousness of the water fresh from the fountain head, opposed to the +thick, hot, unrefreshing drainage from other men's meadows. + + +§ 7. Distinction between imagination and fancy. + +This freshness, however, is not to be taken for an infallible sign of +imagination, inasmuch as it results also from a vivid operation of +fancy, whose parallel function to this division of the imaginative +faculty it is here necessary to distinguish. + +I believe it will be found that the entirely unimaginative mind _sees_ +nothing of the object it has to dwell upon or describe, and is therefore +utterly unable, as it is blind itself, to set anything before the eyes +of the reader.[56] + +The fancy sees the outside, and is able to give a portrait of the +outside, clear, brilliant, and full of detail.[57] + +The imagination sees the heart and inner nature, and makes them felt, +but is often obscure, mysterious, and interrupted, in its giving of +outer detail. + +Take an instance. A writer with neither imagination nor fancy, +describing a fair lip, does not see it, but thinks about it, and about +what is said of it, and calls it well-turned, or rosy, or delicate, or +lovely, or afflicts us with some other quenching and chilling epithet. +Now hear fancy speak,-- + + "Her lips were red, and one was thin, + Compared with that was next her chin, + Some bee had stung it newly."[58] + +The real, red, bright being of the lip is there in a moment But it is +all outside; no expression yet, no mind. Let us go a step farther with +Warner, of fair Rosamond struck by Eleanor. + + "With that she dashed her on the lips + So dyed double red; + Hard was the heart that gave the blow, + Soft were those lips that bled." + +The tenderness of mind begins to mingle with the outside color, the +imagination is seen in its awakening. Next Shelley,-- + + "Lamp of life, thy lips are burning + Through the veil that seems to hide them, + As the radiant lines of morning + Through thin clouds, ere they divide them." + +There dawns the entire soul in that morning; yet we may stop if we +choose at the image still external, at the crimson clouds. The +imagination is contemplative rather than penetrative. Last, hear +Hamlet,-- + +"Here hung those lips that I have kissed, I know not how oft. Where be +your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that +were wont to set the table on a roar?" + +There is the essence of lip, and the full power of the imagination. + +Again, compare Milton's flowers in Lycidas with Perdita's. In Milton it +happens, I think, generally, and in the case before us most certainly, +that the imagination is mixed and broken with fancy, and so the strength +of the imagery is part of iron and part of clay. + + "Bring the rathe primrose, that forsaken dies (Imagination) + The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, (Nugatory) + The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet,-- (Fancy) + The glowing violet, (Imagination) + The musk rose, and the well-attired woodbine, (Fancy, vulgar) + With cowslips wan, that hang the pensive head, (Imagination) + And every flower that sad embroidery wears." (Mixed) + +Then hear Perdita:-- + + "O, Proserpina, + For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall + From Dis's wagon. Daffodils + That come before the swallow dares, and take + The winds of March with beauty. Violets, dim, + But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes + Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses + That die unmarried, ere they can behold + Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady + Most incident to maids." + +Observe how the imagination in these last lines goes into the very +inmost soul of every flower, after having touched them all at first with +that heavenly timidness, the shadow of Proserpine's; and gilded them +with celestial gathering, and never stops on their spots, or their +bodily shape, while Milton sticks in the stains upon them, and puts us +off with that unhappy freak of jet in the very flower that without this +bit of paper-staining would have been the most precious to us of all. +"There is pansies, that's for thoughts." + + +§ 8. Fancy how involved with imagination. + +So I believe it will be found throughout the operation of the fancy, +that it has to do with the outsides of things, and is content therewith: +of this there can be no doubt in such passage as that description of +Mab, so often given as an illustration of it, and many other instances +will be found in Leigh Hunt's work already referred to. Only some +embarrassment is caused by passages in which fancy is seizing the +outward signs of emotion, understanding them as such, and yet, in +pursuance of her proper function, taking for her share, and for that +which she chooses to dwell upon, the outside sign rather than the +emotion. Note in Macbeth that brilliant instance. + + "Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky + And fan our people cold." + +The outward shiver and coldness of fear is seized on, and irregularly +but admirably attributed by the fancy to the drift of the banners. +Compare Solomon's Song where the imagination stays not at the outside, +but dwells on the fearful emotion itself? + + "Who is she that looketh forth as the morning; fair as the moon, clear + as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?" + + +§ 9. Fancy is never serious + +Now, if this be the prevailing characteristic of the two faculties, it +is evident that certain other collateral differences will result from +it. Fancy, as she stays at the externals, can never feel. She is one of +the hardest hearted of the intellectual faculties, or rather one of the +most purely and simply intellectual. She cannot be made serious,[59] no +edge-tools but she will play with; whereas the imagination is in all +things the reverse. She cannot be but serious; she sees too far, too +darkly, too solemnly, too earnestly, ever to smile. There is something +in the heart of everything, if we can reach it, that we shall not be +inclined to laugh at. The [Greek: anźrithmon gelasma] of the sea is on +its surface, not in the deep. + + +§ 10. Want of seriousness the bar to high art at the present time. + +And thus there is reciprocal action between the intensity of moral +feeling and the power of imagination; for, on the one hand, those who +have keenest sympathy are those who look closest and pierce deepest, and +hold securest; and, on the other, those who have so pierced and seen the +melancholy deeps of things, are filled with the most intense passion and +gentleness of sympathy. Hence, I suppose that the powers of the +imagination may always be tested by accompanying tenderness of emotion, +and thus, (as Byron said,) there is no tenderness like Dante's, neither +any intensity nor seriousness like his, such seriousness that it is +incapable of perceiving that which is commonplace or ridiculous, but +fuses all down into its white-hot fire; and, on the other hand, I +suppose the chief bar to the action of imagination, and stop to all +greatness in this present age of ours, is its mean and shallow love of +jest and jeer, so that if there be in any good and lofty work a flaw or +failing, or undipped vulnerable part where sarcasm may stick or stay, it +is caught at, and pointed at, and buzzed about, and fixed upon, and +stung into, as a recent wound is by flies, and nothing is ever taken +seriously nor as it was meant, but always, if it may be, turned the +wrong way, and misunderstood; and while this is so, there is not, nor +cannot be any hope of achievement of high things; men dare not open +their hearts to us, if we are to broil them on a thorn-fire. + + +§ 11. Imagination is quiet; fancy, restless. + +This, then, is one essential difference between imagination and fancy, +and another is like it and resultant from it, that the imagination being +at the heart of things, poises herself there, and is still, quiet, and +brooding; comprehending all around her with her fixed look, but the +fancy staying at the outside of things, cannot see them all at once, but +runs hither and thither, and round and about to see more and more, +bounding merrily from point to point, and glittering here and there, but +necessarily always settling, if she settle at all, on a point only, +never embracing the whole. And from these single points she can strike +out analogies and catch resemblances, which, so far as the point she +looks at is concerned, are true, but would be false, if she could see +through to the other side. This, however, she cares not to do, the point +of contact is enough for her, and even if there be a gap left between +the two things and they do not quite touch, she will spring from one to +the other like an electric spark, and be seen brightest in her leaping. + + +§ 12. The detailing operation of fancy. + +Now these differences between the imagination and the fancy hold, not +only in the way they lay hold of separate conceptions, but even in the +points they occupy of time, for the fancy loves to run hither and +thither in time, and to follow long chains of circumstances from link to +link; but the imagination, if it may, gets holds of a moment or link in +the middle that implies all the rest, and fastens there. Hence Fuseli's +aphorism, "Invention never suffers the action to expire, nor the +spectator's fancy to consume itself in preparation, or stagnate into +repose. It neither begins from the egg, nor coldly gathers the remains." + +In Retsch's illustrations to Schiller's Kampf mit dem Drachen, we have +an instance, miserably feeble indeed, but characteristic, and suited to +our present purpose, of the detailing, finishing action of the fancy. +The dragon is drawn from head to tail, vulture eyes, serpent teeth, +forked tongue, fiery crest, armor, claws and coils as grisly as may be; +his den is drawn, and all the dead bones in it, and all the savage +forest-country about it far and wide; we have him from the beginning of +his career to the end, devouring, rampant, victorious over whole armies, +gorged with death; we are present at all the preparations for his +attack, see him receive his death-wound, and our anxieties are finally +becalmed by seeing him lie peaceably dead on his back. + + +§ 13. And suggestive, of the imagination. + +All the time we have never got into the dragon heart, we have never once +felt real pervading horror, nor sense of the creature's being; it is +throughout nothing but an ugly composition of claw and scale. Now take +up Turner's Jason, Liber Studiorum, and observe how the imagination can +concentrate all this, and infinitely more, into one moment. No far +forest country, no secret paths, nor cloven hills, nothing but a gleam +of pale horizontal sky, that broods over pleasant places far away, and +sends in, through the wild overgrowth of the thicket, a ray of broken +daylight into the hopeless pit. No flaunting plumes nor brandished +lances, but stern purpose in the turn of the crestless helmet, visible +victory in the drawing back of the prepared right arm behind the steady +point. No more claws, nor teeth, nor manes, nor stinging tails. We have +the dragon, like everything else, by the middle. We need see no more of +him. All his horror is in that fearful, slow, grinding upheaval of the +single coil. Spark after spark of it, ring after ring, is sliding into +the light, the slow glitter steals along him step by step, broader and +broader, a lighting of funeral lamps one by one, quicker and quicker; a +moment more, and he is out upon us, all crash and blaze among those +broken trunks;--but he will be nothing then to what he is now. + + +§ 14. This suggestiveness how opposed to vacancy. + +Now, it is necessary here very carefully to distinguish between that +character of the work which depends on the imagination of the beholder, +and that which results from the imagination of the artist, for a work is +often called imaginative when it merely leaves room for the action of +the imagination; whereas though nearly all imaginative works do this, +yet it may be done also by works that have in them no imagination at +all. A few shapeless scratches or accidental stains on a wall; or the +forms of clouds, or any other complicated accidents, will set the +imagination to work to coin something out of them, and all paintings in +which there is much gloom or mystery, possess therein a certain +sublimity owing to the play given to the beholder's imagination, +without, necessarily, being in the slightest degree imaginative +themselves. The vacancy of a truly imaginative work results not from +absence of ideas, or incapability of grasping and detailing them, but +from the painter having told the whole pith and power of his subject and +disdaining to tell more, and the sign of this being the case is, that +the imagination of the beholder is forced to act in a certain mode, and +feels itself overpowered and borne away by that of the painter, and not +able to defend itself, nor go which way it will, and the value of the +work depends on the truth, authority, and inevitability of this +suggestiveness, and on the absolute right choice of the critical moment. +Now observe in this work of Turner's, that the whole value of it +depends on the character of curve assumed by the serpent's body; for had +it been a mere semicircle, or gone down in a series of smaller coils, it +would have been in the first case, ridiculous, as false and unlike a +serpent, and in the second, disgusting, nothing more than an exaggerated +viper, but it is that _coming straight_ at the right hand which suggests +the drawing forth of an enormous weight, and gives the bent part its +springing look, that frightens us. Again, remove the light trunk[60] on +the left, and observe how useless all the gloom of the picture would +have been, if this trunk had not given it depth and _hollowness_. +Finally and chiefly, observe that the painter is not satisfied even with +all the suggestiveness thus obtained, but to make sure of us, and force +us, whether we will or no, to walk his way, and not ours, the trunks of +the trees on the right are all cloven into yawning and writhing heads +and bodies, and alive with dragon energy all about us, note especially +the nearest with its gaping jaws and claw-like branch at the seeming +shoulder; a kind of suggestion which in itself is not imaginative, but +merely fanciful, (using the term fancy in that third sense not yet +explained, corresponding to the third office of imagination;) but it is +imaginative in its present use and application, for the painter +addresses thereby that morbid and fearful condition of mind which he has +endeavored to excite in the spectator, and which in reality would have +seen in every trunk and bough, as it penetrated into the deeper thicket, +the object of its terror. + + +§ 15. Imagination addresses itself to imagination. + +Instances from the works of Tintoret. + +It is nevertheless evident, that however suggestive the work or picture +may be, it cannot have effect unless we are ourselves both watchful of +its very hint, and capable of understanding and carrying it out, and +although I think that this power of continuing or accepting the +direction of feeling given is less a peculiar gift, like that of the +original seizing, than a faculty dependent on attention, and improvable +by cultivation; yet, to a certain extent, the imaginative work will not, +I think, be rightly esteemed except by a mind of some corresponding +power; not but that there is an intense enjoyment in minds of feeble yet +light conception in the help and food they get from those of stronger +thought; but a certain imaginative susceptibility is at any rate +necessary, and above all things, earnestness and feeling, so that +assuredly a work of high conceptive dignity will be always +incomprehensible and valueless except in those who go to it in earnest +and give it time; and this is peculiarly the case when the imagination +acts not merely on the immediate subject, nor in giving a fanciful and +peculiar character to prominent objects, as we have just seen, but +busies itself throughout in expressing occult and far-sought sympathies +in every minor detail, of which action the most sublime instances are +found in the works of Tintoret, whose intensity of imagination is such +that there is not the commonest subject to which he will not attach a +range of suggestiveness almost limitless, nor a stone, leaf, or shadow, +nor anything so small, but he will give it meaning and oracular voice. + + +§ 16. The Entombment. + +In the centre of the gallery at Parma, there is a canvas of Tintoret's, +whose sublimity of conception and grandeur of color are seen in the +highest perfection, by their opposition to the morbid and vulgar +sentimentalism of Correggio. It is an Entombment of Christ, with a +landscape distance, of whose technical composition and details I shall +have much to say hereafter, at present I speak only of the thought it is +intended to convey. An ordinary or unimaginative painter would have made +prominent, among his objects of landscape, such as might naturally be +supposed to have been visible from the sepulchre, and shown with the +crosses of Calvary, some portion of Jerusalem, or of the Valley of +Jehoshaphat. But Tintoret has a far higher aim. Dwelling on the peculiar +force of the event before him, as the fulfilment of the final prophecy +respecting the passion, "He made his grave with the wicked and with the +_rich_ in his death," he desires to direct the mind of the spectator to +this receiving of the body of Christ, in its contrast with the houseless +birth and the desert life. And, therefore, behind the ghastly tomb-grass +that shakes its black and withered blades above the rocks of the +sepulchre, there is seen, not the actual material distance of the spot +itself, (though the crosses are shown faintly,) but that to which the +thoughtful spirit would return in vision, a desert place, where the +foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, and against the +barred twilight of the melancholy sky are seen the mouldering beams and +shattered roofing of a ruined cattle-shed, the canopy of the nativity. + + +§ 17. The Annunciation. + +Let us take another instance. No subject has been more frequently or +exquisitely treated by the religious painters than that of the +Annunciation, though as usual, the most perfect type of its pure ideal +has been given by Angelico, and by him with the most radiant +consummation (so far as I know) in a small reliquary in the sacristy of +St^a. Maria Novella. The background there, however, is altogether +decorative; but in the fresco of the corridor of St. Mark's, the +concomitant circumstances are of exceeding loveliness. The Virgin sits +in an open loggia, resembling that of the Florentine church of +L'Annunziata. Before her is a meadow of rich herbage, covered with +daisies. Behind her is seen through the door at the end of the loggia, +her chamber with its single grated window, through which a star-like +beam of light falls into the silence. All is exquisite in feeling, but +not inventive nor imaginative. Severe would be the shock and painful the +contrast, if we could pass in an instant from that pure vision to the +wild thought of Tintoret. For not in meek reception of the adoring +messenger, but startled by the rush of his horizontal and rattling +wings, the virgin sits, not in the quiet loggia, not by the green +pasture of the restored soul, but houseless, under the shelter of a +palace vestibule ruined and abandoned, with the noise of the axe and the +hammer in her ears, and the tumult of a city round about her desolation. +The spectator turns away at first, revolted, from the central object of +the picture, forced painfully and coarsely forward, a mass of shattered +brickwork, with the plaster mildewed away from it, and the mortar +mouldering from its seams; and if he look again, either at this or at +the carpenter's tools beneath it, will perhaps see in the one and the +other, nothing more than such a study of scene as Tintoret could but too +easily obtain among the ruins of his own Venice, chosen to give a coarse +explanation of the calling and the condition of the husband of Mary. But +there is more meant than this. When he looks at the composition of the +picture, he will find the whole symmetry of it depending on a narrow +line of light, the edge of a carpenter's square, which connects these +unused tools with an object at the top of the brickwork, a white stone, +four square, the corner-stone of the old edifice, the base of its +supporting column. This, I think, sufficiently explains the typical +character of the whole. The ruined house is the Jewish dispensation, +that obscurely arising in the dawning of the sky is the Christian; but +the corner-stone of the old building remains, though the builder's tools +lie idle beside it, and the stone which the builders refused is become +the Headstone of the corner. + + +§ 18. The Baptism of Christ. Its treatment by various painters. + +In this picture, however, the force of the thought hardly atones for the +painfulness of the scene and the turbulence of its feeling. The power of +the master is more strikingly shown in his treatment of a subject which, +however important, and however deep in its meaning, supplies not to the +ordinary painter material enough ever to form a picture of high +interest; the Baptism of Christ. From the purity of Giotto to the +intolerable, inconceivable brutality of Salvator,[61] every order of +feeling has been displayed in its treatment; but I am aware of no single +case, except this of which I am about to speak, in which it has formed +an impressive picture. + +Giotto's, in the Academy of Florence, engraved in the series just +published, (Galleria delle belle Arti,) is one of the most touching I +know, especially in the reverent action of the attendant angels, and +Leonardo's angel in that of Andrea del Verrocchio is very beautiful, but +the event is one whose character and importance are ineffable upon the +features: the descending dove hardly affects us, because its constant +symbolical occurrence hardens us, and makes us look on it as a mere type +or letter, instead of the actual presence of the Spirit; and by all the +sacred painters the power that might be put into the landscape is lost, +for though their use of foliage and distant sky or mountain is usually +very admirable, as we shall see in the fifth chapter, yet they cannot +deal with near water or rock, and the hexagonal and basaltic +protuberances of their river shore are I think too painful to be endured +even by the most acceptant mind, as eminently in that of Angelico, in +the Vita di Christo, which, as far as I can judge, is a total failure in +action, expression, and all else; and in general it is in this subject +especially, that the greatest painters show their weakness. For this +reason, I suppose, and feeling the difficulty of it, Tintoret has thrown +into it his utmost strength, and it becomes noble in his hands by his +most singularly imaginative expression, not only of the immediate fact, +but of the whole train of thought of which it is suggestive; and by his +considering the baptism not only as the submission of Christ to the +fulfilment of all righteousness, but as the opening of the earthly +struggle with the prince of the powers of the air, which instantly +beginning in the temptation, ended only on the cross. + + +§ 19. By Tintoret. + +The river flows fiercely under the shadow of a great rock. From its +opposite shore, thickets of close, gloomy foliage rise against the +rolling chasm of heaven, through which breaks the brightness of the +descending Spirit. Across these, dividing them asunder, is stretched a +horizontal floor of flaky cloud, on which stand the hosts of heaven. +Christ kneels upon the water, and does not sink; the figure of St. John +is indistinct, but close beside his raised right arm there is a spectre +in the black shade; the fiend, harpy-shaped, hardly seen, glares down +upon Christ with eyes of fire, waiting his time. Beneath this figure +there comes out of the mist a dark hand, the arm unseen, extended to a +net in the river, the spars of which are in the shape of a cross. +Behinds this the roots and under stems of the trees are cut away by the +cloud, and beneath it, and through them, is seen a vision of wild, +melancholy, boundless light, the sweep of the desert, and the figure of +Christ is seen therein alone, with his arms lifted as in supplication or +ecstacy, borne of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the +devil. + +There are many circumstances which combine to give to this noble work a +more than usually imaginative character. The symbolical use of the net, +which is the cross net still used constantly in the canals of Venice, +and common throughout Italy, is of the same character as that of the +carpenter's tools in the Annunciation; but the introduction of the +spectral figure is of bolder reach, and yet more, that vision of the +after temptation which is expressly indicated as a subject of thought +rather than of sight, because it is in a part of the scene, which in +_fact_ must have been occupied by the trunks of the trees whose tops are +seen above; and another circumstance completes the mystic character of +the whole, that the flaky clouds which support the angelic hosts take on +the right, where the light first falls upon them, the shape of the head +of a fish, the well-known type both of the baptismal sacrament, and of +Christ. + + +§ 20. The Crucifixion. + +But the most exquisite instance of this imaginative power occurs in an +incident in the background of the Crucifixion. I will not insult this +marvellous picture by an effort at a verbal account of it. I would not +whitewash it with praise, and I refer to it only for the sake of two +thoughts peculiarly illustrative of the intellectual faculty immediately +under discussion. In the common and most catholic treatment of the +subject, the mind is either painfully directed to the bodily agony, +coarsely expressed by outward anatomical signs, or else it is permitted +to rest on that countenance inconceivable by man at any time, but +chiefly so in this its consummated humiliation. In the first case, the +representation is revolting; in the second, inefficient, false, and +sometimes blasphemous. None even of the greatest religious painters have +ever, so far as I know, succeeded here; Giotto and Angelico were cramped +by the traditional treatment, and the latter especially, as before +observed, is but too apt to indulge in those points of vitiated feeling +which attained their worst development among the Byzantines: Perugino +fails in his Christ in almost every instance (of other men than these +after them we need not speak.) But Tintoret here, as in all other cases, +penetrating into the root and deep places of his subject, despising all +outward and bodily appearances of pain, and seeking for some means of +expressing, not the rack of nerve or sinew, but the fainting of the +deserted Son of God before his Eloi cry, and yet feeling himself utterly +unequal to the expression of this by the countenance, has on the one +hand filled his picture with such various and impetuous muscular +exertion that the body of the Crucified is, by comparison, in perfect +repose, and on the other has cast the countenance altogether into shade. +But the agony is told by this, and by this only, that though there yet +remains a chasm of light on the mountain horizon where the earthquake +darkness closes upon the day, the broad and sunlike glory about the head +of the Redeemer has become wan, and of the color of ashes.[62] + +But the great painter felt he had something more to do yet. Not only +that agony of the Crucified, but the tumult of the people, that rage +which invoked his blood upon them and their children. Not only the +brutality of the soldier, the apathy of the centurion, nor any other +merely instrumental cause of the Divine suffering, but the fury of his +own people, the noise against him of those for whom he died, were to be +set before the eye of the understanding, if the power of the picture was +to be complete. This rage, be it remembered, was one of disappointed +pride; and the disappointment dated essentially from the time, when but +five days before, the King of Zion came, and was received with +hosannahs, riding upon an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass. To this +time, then, it was necessary to direct the thoughts, for therein are +found both the cause and the character, the excitement of, and the +witness against, this madness of the people. In the shadow behind the +cross, a man, riding on an ass colt, looks back to the multitude, while +he points with a rod to the Christ crucified. The ass is feeding on the +_remnants_ of _withered palm-leaves_. + +With this master-stroke I believe I may terminate all illustration of +the peculiar power of the imagination over the feelings of the +spectator, by the elevation into dignity and meaning of the smallest +accessory circumstances. But I have not yet sufficiently dwelt on the +fact from which this power arises, the absolute truth of statement of +the central fact as it was, or must have been. Without this truth, this +awful first moving principle, all direction of the feelings is useless. +That which we cannot excite, it is of no use to know how to govern. + + +§ 21. The Massacre of innocents. + +I have before alluded, Sect. I. Chap. XIV., to the painfulness of +Raffaelle's treatment of the massacre of the innocents. Fuseli affirms +of it that, "in dramatic gradation he disclosed all the mother through +every image of pity and of terror." If this be so, I think the +philosophical spirit has prevailed over the imaginative. The imagination +never errs, it sees all that is, and all the relations and bearings of +it, but it would not have confused the mortal frenzy of maternal terror +with various development of maternal character. Fear, rage, and agony, +at their utmost pitch, sweep away all character: humanity itself would +be lost in maternity, the woman would become the mere personification of +animal fury or fear. For this reason all the ordinary representations of +this subject are, I think, false and cold: the artist has not heard the +shrieks, nor mingled with the fugitives, he has sat down in his study to +twist features methodically, and philosophize over insanity. Not so +Tintoret. Knowing or feeling, that the expression of the human face was +in such circumstances not to be rendered, and that the effort could only +end in an ugly falsehood, he denies himself all aid from the features, +he feels that if he is to place himself or us in the midst of that +maddened multitude, there can be no time allowed for watching +expression. Still less does he depend on details of murder or +ghastliness of death; there is no blood, no stabbing or cutting, but +there is an awful substitute for these in the chiaroscuro. The scene is +the outer vestibule of a palace, the slippery marble floor is fearfully +barred across by sanguine shadows, so that our eyes seem to become +bloodshot and strained with strange horror and deadly vision; a lake of +life before them, like the burning seen of the doomed Moabite on the +water that came by the way of Edom; a huge flight of stairs, without +parapet, descends on the left; down this rush a crowd of women mixed +with the murderers; the child in the arms of one has been seized by the +limbs, she hurls herself over the edge, and falls head downmost, +dragging the child out of the grasp by her weight;--she will be dashed +dead in a second: two others are farther in flight, they reach the edge +of a deep river,--the water is beat into a hollow by the force of their +plunge;--close to us is the great struggle, a heap of the mothers +entangled in one mortal writhe with each other and the swords, one of +the murderers dashed down and crushed beneath them, the sword of another +caught by the blade and dragged at by a woman's naked hand; the +youngest and fairest of the women, her child just torn away from a death +grasp and clasped to her breast with the grip of a steel vice, falls +backwards helplessly over the heap, right on the sword points; all knit +together and hurled down in one hopeless, frenzied, furious abandonment +of body and soul in the effort to save. Their shrieks ring in our ears +till the marble seems rending around us, but far back, at the bottom of +the stairs, there is something in the shadow like a heap of clothes. It +is a woman, sitting quiet,--quite quiet--still as any stone, she looks +down steadfastly on her dead child, laid along on the floor before her, +and her hand is pressed softly upon her brow. + + +§ 22. Various works in the Scuola di San Rocco. + +§ 23. The Last Judgment. How treated by various painters. + +This, to my mind, is the only imaginative; that is, the only true, real, +heartfelt representation of the being and actuality of the subject in +existence.[63] I should exhaust the patience of the reader if I were to +dwell at length on the various stupendous developments of the +imagination of Tintoret in the Scuola di San Rocco alone. I would fain +join a while in that solemn pause of the journey into Egypt, where the +silver boughs of the shadowy trees lace with their tremulous lines the +alternate folds of fair clouds, flushed by faint crimson light, and lie +across the streams of blue between those rosy islands, like the white +wakes of wandering ships; or watch beside the sleep of the disciples +among those massy leaves that lie so heavily on the dead of the night +beneath the descent of the angel of the agony, and toss fearfully above +the motion of the torches as the troop of the betrayer emerges out of +the hollows of the olives; or wait through the hour of accusing beside +the judgment seat of Pilate, where all is unseen, unfelt, except the one +figure that stands with its head bowed down, pale like a pillar of +moonlight, half bathed in the glory of the Godhead, half wrapt in the +whiteness of the shroud. Of these and all the other thoughts of +indescribable power that are now fading from the walls of those +neglected chambers, I may perhaps endeavor at some future time to +preserve some image and shadow more faithfully than by words; but I +shall at present terminate our series of illustrations by reference to a +work of less touching, but more tremendous appeal, the Last Judgment in +the Church of Santa Maria dell' Orto. In this subject, almost all +realizing or local statement had been carefully avoided by the most +powerful painters, they judging it better to represent its chief +circumstances as generic thoughts, and present them to the mind in a +typical or abstract form. In the judgment of Angelico the treatment is +purely typical, a long Campo santo, composed of two lines of graves, +stretches away into the distance; on the left side of it rise the +condemned; on the right the just. With Giotto and Orcagna, the +conception, though less rigid, is equally typical, no effort being made +at the suggestion of space, and only so much ground represented as is +absolutely necessary to support the near figures and allow space for a +few graves. Michael Angelo in no respect differs in his treatment, +except that his figures are less symmetrically grouped, and a greater +conception of space is given by their various perspective. No interest +is attached to his background in itself. Fra Bartolomeo, never able to +grapple with any species of sublimity except that of simple religious +feeling, fails most signally in this mighty theme.[64] His group of the +dead, including not more than ten or twelve figures, occupies the +foreground only, behind them a vacant plain extends to the foot of a +cindery volcano, about whose mouth several little black devils like +spiders are skipping and crawling. The judgment of quick and dead is +thus expressed as taking place in about a rood square, and on a dozen of +people at a time; the whole of the space and horizon of the sky and land +being left vacant, and the presence of the Judge of all the earth made +more finite than the sweep of a whirlwind or a thunder-storm. + + +§ 24. By Tintoret. + +By Tintoret only has this unimaginable event been grappled with in its +verity; not typically nor symbolically, but as they may see it who shall +not sleep, but be changed. Only one traditional circumstance he has +received with Dante and Michael Angelo, the boat of the condemned; but +the impetuosity of his mind bursts out even in the adoption of this +image, he has not stopped at the scowling ferryman of the one, nor at +the sweeping blow and demon dragging of the other, but, seized +Hylas-like by the limbs, and tearing up the earth in his agony, the +victim is dashed into his destruction; nor is it the sluggish Lethe, nor +the fiery lake that bears the cursed vessel, but the oceans of the earth +and the waters of the firmament gathered into one white, ghastly +cataract, the river of the wrath of God, roaring down into the gulf +where the world has melted with its fervent heat, choked with the ruin +of nations, and the limbs of its corpses tossed out of its whirling, +like water-wheels. Bat like, out of the holes and caverns and shadows of +the earth, the bones gather, and the clay-heaps heave, rattling and +adhering into half-kneaded anatomies, that crawl, and startle, and +struggle up among the putrid weeds, with the clay clinging to their +clotted hair, and their heavy eyes sealed by the earth darkness yet, +like his of old who went his way unseeing to Siloam Pool; shaking off +one by one the dreams of the prison-house, hardly hearing the clangor of +the trumpets of the armies of God, blinded yet more, as they awake, by +the white light of the new Heaven, until the great vortex of the four +winds bears up their bodies to the judgment seat: the firmament is all +full of them, a very dust of human souls, that drifts, and floats, and +falls in the interminable, inevitable light; the bright clouds are +darkened with them as with thick snow, currents of atom life in the +arteries of heaven, now soaring up slowly, farther, and higher, and +higher still, till the eye and the thought can follow no farther, borne +up, wingless, by their inward faith and by the angel powers invisible, +now hurled in countless drifts of horror before the breath of their +condemnation. + + +§ 25. The imaginative verity, how distinguished from realism. + +Now, I wish the reader particularly to observe throughout all these +works of Tintoret, the distinction of the imaginative verity from +falsehood on the one hand, and from realism on the other. The power of +every picture depends on the penetration of the imagination into the +TRUE nature of the thing represented, and on the utter scorn of the +imagination for all shackles and fetters of mere external fact that +stand in the way of its suggestiveness. In the Baptism it cuts away the +trunks of trees as if they were so much cloud or vapor, that it may +exhibit to the thought the completed sequency of the scene;[65] in the +Massacre, it covers the marble floor with visionary light, that it may +strike terror into the spectator without condescending to butchery; it +defies the bare fact, but creates in him the fearful feeling; in the +Crucifixion it annihilates locality, and brings the palm-leaves to +Calvary, so only that it may bear the mind to the mount of Olives, as in +the entombment it brings the manger to Jerusalem, that it may take the +heart to Bethlehem; and all this it does in the daring consciousness of +its higher and spiritual verity, and in the entire knowledge of the fact +and substance of all that it touches. The imaginary boat of the demon +angel expands the rush of the visible river into the descent of +irresistible condemnation; but to make that rush and roar felt by the +eye and heard by the ear, the rending of the pine branches above the +cataract is taken directly from nature; it is an abstract of Alpine +storm. Hence while we are always placed face to face with whatever is to +be told, there is in and beyond its reality a voice supernatural; and +that which is doubtful in the vision has strength, sinew, and +assuredness, built up in it by fact. + + +§ 26. The imagination how manifested in sculpture. + +Let us, however, still advance one step farther, and observe the +imaginative power deprived of all aid from chiaroscuro, color, or any +other means of concealing the frame-work of its thoughts. + +It was said by Michael Angelo that "non ha l'ottimo scultore alcun +concetto, Ch'un marmo solo in se non circoscriva," a sentence which, +though in the immediate sense intended by the writer it may remind us a +little of the indignation of Boileau's Pluto, "Il s'ensuit de la que +tout ce qui se peut dire de beau, est dans les dictionnaires,--il n'y a +que les paroles qui sont transposées," yet is valuable, because it shows +us that Michael Angelo held the imagination to be entirely expressible +in rock, and therefore altogether independent, in its own nature, of +those aids of color and shade by which it is recommended in Tintoret, +though the sphere of its operation is of course by these incalculably +extended. But the presence of the imagination may be rendered in marble +as deep, thrilling, and awful as in painting, so that the sculptor seek +for the soul and govern the body thereby. + + +§ 27. Bandinelli, Canova, Mino da Fiesole. + +§ 28. Michael Angelo. + +Of unimaginative work, Bandinelli and Canova supply us with +characteristic instances of every kind, the Hercules and Cacus of the +former, and its criticism by Cellini, will occur at once to every one; +the disgusting statue now placed so as to conceal Giotto's important +tempera picture in Santa Croce is a better instance, but a still more +impressive lesson might be received by comparing the inanity of Canova's +garland grace, and ball-room sentiment with the intense truth, +tenderness, and power of men like Mino da Fiesole, whose chisel leaves +many a hard edge, and despises down and dimple, but it seems to cut +light and carve breath, the marble burns beneath it, and becomes +transparent with very spirit. Yet Mino stopped at the human nature; he +saw the soul, but not the ghostly presences about it; it was reserved +for Michael Angelo to pierce deeper yet, and to see the indwelling +angels. No man's soul is alone: Laocoon or Tobit, the serpent has it by +the heart or the angel by the hand, the light or the fear of the +spiritual things that move beside it may be seen on the body; and that +bodily form with Buonaroti, white, solid, distinct material, though it +be, is invariably felt as the instrument or the habitation of some +infinite, invisible power. The earth of the Sistine Adam that begins to +burn; the woman embodied burst of adoration from his sleep; the twelve +great torrents of the Spirit of God that pause above us there, urned in +their vessels of clay; the waiting in the shadow of futurity of those +through whom the promise and presence of God went down from the Eve to +the Mary, each still and fixed, fixed in his expectation, silent, +foreseeing, faithful, seated each on his stony throne, the building +stones of the word of God, building on and on, tier by tier, to the +Refused one, the head of the corner; not only these, not only the troops +of terror torn up from the earth by the four quartered winds of the +Judgment, but every fragment and atom of stone that he ever touched +became instantly inhabited by what makes the hair stand up and the words +be few; the St. Matthew, not yet disengaged from his sepulchre, bound +hand and foot by his grave clothes, it is left for us to loose him; the +strange spectral wreath of the Florence Pieta, casting its pyramidal, +distorted shadow, full of pain and death, among the faint purple lights +that cross and perish under the obscure dome of St^a. Maria del Fiore, +the white lassitude of joyous limbs, panther like, yet passive, fainting +with their own delight, that gleam among the Pagan formalisms of the +Uffizii, far away, showing themselves in their lustrous lightness as the +waves of an Alpine torrent do by their dancing among the dead stones, +though the stones be as white as they:[66] and finally, and perhaps more +than all, those four ineffable types, not of darkness nor of day--not of +morning nor evening, but of the departure and the resurrection, the +twilight and the dawn of the souls of men--together with the spectre +sitting in the shadow of the niche above them;[67] all these, and all +else that I could name of his forming, have borne, and in themselves +retain and exercise the same inexplicable power--inexplicable because +proceeding from an imaginative perception almost superhuman, which goes +whither we cannot follow, and is where we cannot come; throwing naked +the final, deepest root of the being of man, whereby he grows out of the +invisible, and holds on his God home.[68] + + +§ 29. Recapitulation. The perfect function of the imagination is the + intuitive perception of ultimate truth. + +Now, in all these instances, let it be observed, for it is to that end +alone that I have been arguing all along, that the virtue of the +imagination is its reaching, by intuition and intensity of gaze, (not by +reasoning, but by its authoritative opening and revealing power,) a +more essential truth than is seen at the surface of things. I repeat +that it matters not whether the reader is willing call this faculty +imagination or no, I do not care about the name; but I would be +understood when I speak of imagination hereafter, to mean this, the true +foundation of all art which exercises eternal authority over men's +minds; (all other imagination than this is either secondary and +contemplative, or utterly spurious;) the base of whose authority and +being is its perpetual thirst of truth and purpose to be true. It has no +food, no delight, no care, no perception, except of truth; it is forever +looking under masks, and burning up mists; no fairness of form, no +majesty of seeming will satisfy it; the first condition of its +existence is incapability of being deceived; and though it sometimes +dwells upon and substantiates the fictions of fancy, yet its own +operation is to trace to their farthest limit the true laws and +likelihoods even of the fictitious creation. This has been well +explained by Fuseli, in his allusion to the Centaur of Zeuxis; and there +is not perhaps a greater exertion of imaginative power than may be +manifested in following out to their farthest limits the necessary +consequences of such arbitrary combination; but let not the jests of the +fancy be confounded with that after serious work of the imagination +which gives them all the nervous verity and substance of which they are +capable. Let not the monsters of Chinese earthenware be confounded with +the Faun, Satyr, or Centaur. + + +§ 30. Imagination now vulgarly understood. + +How different this definition of the imagination may be from the idea of +it commonly entertained among us, I can hardly say, because I have a +very indistinct idea of what is usually meant by the term. I hear modern +works constantly praised as being imaginative, in which I can trace no +virtue of any kind; but simple, slavish, unpalliated falsehood and +exaggeration; I see not what merit there can be in pure, ugly, resolute +fiction; it is surely easy enough to be wrong; there are many ways of +being unlike nature. I understand not what virtue that is which entitles +one of these ways to be called imaginative, rather than another; and I +am still farther embarrassed by hearing the portions of those works +called especially imaginative in which there is the most effort at +minute and mechanical statement of contemptible details, and in which +the artist would have been as actual and absolute in imitation as an +echo, if he had known how. Against convictions which I do not +understand, I cannot argue; but I may warn the artist that imagination +of this strange kind, is not capable of bearing the time test; nothing +of its doing ever has continued its influence over men; and if he +desires to take place among the great men of older time, there is but +one way for it; and one kind of imagination that will stand the immortal +light: I know not how far it is by effort cultivable; but we have +evidence enough before us to show in what direction that effort must be +made. + + +§ 31. How its cultivation is dependent on the moral feelings. + +We have seen (§ 10) that the imagination is in no small degree +dependent on acuteness of moral emotion; in fact, all moral truth can +only thus be apprehended--and it is observable, generally, that all true +and deep emotion is imaginative, both in conception and expression; and +that the mental sight becomes sharper with every full beat of the heart; +and, therefore, all egotism, and selfish care, or regard, are in +proportion to their constancy, destructive of imagination; whose play +and power depend altogether on our being able to forget ourselves and +enter like possessing spirits into the bodies of things about us. + + +§ 32. On independence of mind. + +Again, as the life of imagination is in the discovering of truth, it is +clear it can have no respect for sayings or opinions: knowing in itself +when it has invented truly--restless and tormented except when it has +this knowledge, its sense of success or failure is too acute to be +affected by praise or blame. Sympathy it desires--but can do without; of +opinions it is regardless, not in pride, but because it has no vanity, +and is conscious of a rule of action and object of aim in which it +cannot be mistaken; partly, also, in pure energy of desire and longing +to do and to invent more and more, which suffer it not to suck the +sweetness of praise--unless a little, with the end of the rod in its +hand, and without pausing in its march. It goes straight forward up the +hill; no voices nor mutterings can turn it back, nor petrify it from its +purpose.[69] + + +§ 33. And on habitual reference to nature. + +Finally, it is evident, that like the theoretic faculty, the imagination +must be fed constantly by external nature--after the illustrations we +have given, this may seem mere truism, for it is clear that to the +exercise of the penetrative faculty a subject of penetration is +necessary; but I note it because many painters of powerful mind have +been lost to the world by their suffering the restless writhing of their +imagination in its cage to take place of its healthy and exulting +activity in the fields of nature. The most imaginative men always study +the hardest, and are the most thirsty for new knowledge. Fancy plays +like a squirrel in its circular prison, and is happy; but imagination is +a pilgrim on the earth--and her home is in heaven. Shut her from the +fields of the celestial mountains--bar her from breathing their lofty, +sun-warmed air; and we may as well turn upon her the last bolt of the +tower of famine, and give the keys to the keeping of the wildest surge +that washes Capraja and Gorgona. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [56] Compare Arist. Rhet. III. 11. + + [57] For the distinction between fancy and simple conception; see + Chap. IV. § 3. + + [58] I take this and the next instance from Leigh Hunt's admirable + piece of criticism, "Imagination and Fancy," which ought to be read + with care, and to which, though somewhat loosely arranged, I may + refer for all the filling up and illustration that the subject + requires. With respect to what has just been said respecting want of + imagination, compare his criticism of Addison's Cato, p. 28. I + cannot, however, confirm his judgment, nor admit his selection of + instances, among painters: he has looked to their manner only and + habitual choice of subject, without feeling their power; and has + given work to the coarseness, mindlessness, and eclecticism of Guido + and the Carracci, which in its poetical demand of tenderness might + have foiled Pinturicchio; of dignity, Leonardo; and of color, + Giorgione. + + [59] Fancy, in her third function may, however, become serious, and + gradually rise into imagination in doing so. Compare Chap. IV. § 5. + + [60] I am describing from a proof: in bad impressions this trunk is + darkened. + + [61] The picture is in the Guadagni palace. It is one of the most + important landscapes Salvator ever painted. The figures are studied + from street beggars. On the one side of the river, exactly opposite + the point where the Baptism of Christ takes place, the painter, with + a refinement of feeling peculiarly his own, has introduced some + ruffians stripping off their shirts to bathe. He is fond of this + incident. It occurs again in one of the marines of the Pitti palace, + with the additional interest of a foreshortened figure, swimming on + its back, feet foremost, exactly in the stream of light to which the + eye is principally directed. + + [62] This circumstance, like most that lie not at the surface, has + escaped Fuseli, though his remarks on the general tone of the + picture are very good, as well as his opposition of it to the + treatment of Rubens. (Lecture IX.) + + [63] Note the shallow and uncomprehending notice of this picture by + Fuseli. His description of the treatment of it by other painters is + however true, terse, and valuable. + + [64] Fresco in an out-house of the Ospedale St^a. Maria Nuova at + Florence. + + [65] The same thing is done yet more boldly in the large composition + of the ceiling; the plague of fiery serpents; a part of the host, + and another sky horizon are seen through an opening in the ground. + + [66] The Bacchus. There is a small statue opposite it + also--unfinished, but "a spirit still." + + [67] I would have insisted more on the ghostly vitality of this + dreadful statue; but the passage referring to it in Rogers's Italy + supersedes all further description. I suppose most lovers of art + know it by heart. + + "Nor then forget that chamber of the dead, + Where the gigantic shapes of Night and Day, + Turned into stone, rest everlastingly; + Yet still are breathing, and shed round at noon + A twofold influence,--only to be felt-- + A light, a darkness, mingling each with each; + Both, and yet neither. There, from age to age, + Two ghosts are sitting on their sepulchres. + That is the Duke Lorenzo. Mark him well. + He meditates, his head upon his hand. + What from beneath his helm-like bonnet scowls? + Is it a face, or but an eyeless skull? + 'Tis lost in shade; yet, like the basilisk, + It fascinates, and is intolerable. + His mien is noble, most majestical! + Then most so, when the distant choir is heard + At morn or eve--nor fail thou to attend + On that thrice-hallowed day, when all are there; + When all, propitiating with solemn songs, + Visit the Dead. Then wilt thou feel his power!" + + It is strange that this should be the only written instance (as far + as I recollect) of just and entire appreciation of Michael Angelo's + spiritual power. It is perhaps owing to the very intensity of his + imagination that he has been so little understood--for, as I before + said, imagination can never be met by vanity, nor without + earnestness. His Florentine followers saw in him an anatomist and + posture-master--and art was finally destroyed by the influence over + admiring idiocy of the greatest mind that art ever inspired. + + [68] I have not chosen to interrupt the argument respecting the + essence of the imaginative faculty by any remarks on the execution + of the imaginative hand; but we can hardly leave Tintoret and + Michael Angelo without some notice of the pre-eminent power of + execution exhibited by both of them, in consequence of their vigor + and clearness of conception; nor without again warning the lower + artist from confounding this velocity of decision and impatience + with the velocity of affectation or indolence. Every result of real + imagination we have seen to be a truth of some sort; and it is the + characteristic of truth to be in some way tangible, seizable, + distinguishable, and clear, as it is of falsehood to be obscure, + confused, and confusing. Not but that many, if not most truths have + a dark side, a side by which they are connected with mysteries too + high for us,--nay, I think it is commonly but a poor and miserable + truth which the human mind can walk all round, but at all events + they have one side by which we can lay hold of them, and feel that + they are downright adamant, and that their form, though lost in + cloud here and there, is unalterable and real, and not less real and + rocky because infinite, and joined on, St. Michael's mount-like to a + far mainland. So then, whatever the real imagination lays hold of, + as it is a truth, does not alter into anything else as the + imaginative part works at it and feels over it and finds out more of + it, but comes out more and more continually, all that is found out + pointing to and indicating still more behind, and giving additional + stability and reality to that which is discovered already. But if it + be fancy or any other form of pseudo-imagination which is at work, + then that which it gets hold of may not be a truth, but only an + idea, which will keep giving way as soon as we try to take hold of + it and turning into something else, so that as we go on copying it, + every part will be inconsistent with all that has gone before, and + at intervals it will vanish altogether, and leave blanks which must + be filled up by any means at hand. And in these circumstances, the + painter, unable to seize his thought, because it has not substance + nor bone enough to bear grasping, is liable to catch at every line + that he lays down, for help and suggestion, and to be led away by it + to something else, which the first effort to realize dissipates in + like manner, placing another phantom in its stead, until out of the + fragments of these successive phantoms he has glued together a + vague, mindless, involuntary whole, a mixture of all that was trite + or common in each of the successive conceptions, for that is + necessarily what is first caught a heap of things with the bloom off + and the chill on, laborious, unnatural, inane, with its emptiness + disguised by affectation, and its tastelessness salted by + extravagance. + + Necessarily, from these modes of conception, three vices of + execution must result; and these are necessarily found in all those + parts of the work where any trust has been put in conception, and + only to be avoided in portions of actual portraiture (for a + thoroughly unimaginative painter can make no use of a study--all his + studies are guesses and experiments, all are equally wrong, and so + far felt to be wrong by himself, that he will not work by any of + them, but will always endeavor to improve upon them in the picture, + and so lose the use of them). These three vices of execution are + then--first, feebleness of handling, owing to uncertainty of + intention; secondly, intentional carelessness of handling, in the + hope of getting by accident something more than was meant; and + lastly, violence and haste of handling, in the effort to secure as + much as possible of the obscure image of which the mind feels itself + losing hold. (I am throughout, it will be observed, attributing + right feeling to the unimaginative painter; if he lack this, his + execution may be cool and determined, as he will set down falsehood + without blushing, and ugliness without suffering.) Added to these + various evidences of weakness, will be the various vices assumed for + the sake of concealment; morbid refinements disguising + feebleness--or insolence and coarseness to cover desperation. When + the imagination is powerful, the resulting execution is of course + the contrary of all this: its first steps will commonly be + impetuous, in clearing its ground and getting at its first + conception--as we know of Michael Angelo in his smiting his blocks + into shape, (see the passage quoted by Sir Charles Clarke in the + Essay on Expression, from Blaise de Vigenere,) and as it is visible + in the handling of Tintoret always: as the work approaches + completion, the stroke, while it remains certain and firm, because + its end is always known, may frequently become slow and careful, + both on account of the difficulty of following the pure lines of the + conception, and because there is no fear felt of the conception's + vanishing before it can be realized; but generally there is a + certain degree of impetuosity visible in the works of all the men of + high imagination, when they are not working from a study, showing + itself in Michael Angelo by the number of blocks he left unfinished, + and by some slight evidences in those he completed of his having + worked painfully towards the close; so that, except the Duke + Lorenzo, the Bacchus of the Florentine gallery, and the Pieta of + Genoa, I know not any of his finished works in which his mind is as + mightily expressed as in his marble sketches; only, it is always to + be observed that impetuosity or rudeness of hand is not + necessarily--and, if imaginative, is never--carelessness. In the two + landscapes at the end of the Scuola di San Rocco, Tintoret has drawn + several large tree trunks with two strokes of his brush--one for the + dark, and another for the light side; and the large rock at the foot + of the picture of the Temptation is painted with a few detached + touches of gray over a flat brown ground; but the touches of the + tree-trunks have been followed by the mind as they went down with + the most painful intensity through their every undulation; and the + few gray strokes on the stone are so considered that a better stone + cone could not be painted if we took a month to it: and I suppose, + generally, it would be utterly impossible to give an example of + execution in which less was left to accident, or in which more care + was concentrated in every stroke, than the seemingly regardless and + impetuous handling of this painter. + + On the habit of both Tintoret and Michael Angelo to work straight + forward from the block and on the canvas, without study or model, it + is needless to insist; for though this is one of the most amazing + proofs of their imaginative power, it is a dangerous precedent. No + mode of execution ought ever to be taught to a young artist as + better than another; he ought to understand the truth of what he has + to do, felicitous execution will follow as a matter of course; and + if he feels himself capable of getting at the right at once, he will + naturally do so without reference to precedent. He ought to hold + always that his duty is to attain the highest result he can,--but + that no one has any business with the means or time he has taken. If + it can be done quickly, let it be so done; if not, let it be done at + any rate. For knowing his way he is answerable, and therefore must + not walk _doubtingly_; but no one can blame him for walking + _cautiously_, if the way be a narrow one, with a slip on each side. + He may pause, but he must not hesitate,--and tremble, but must not + vacillate. + + [69] That which we know of the lives of M. Angelo and Tintoret is + eminently illustrative of this temper. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + OF IMAGINATION CONTEMPLATIVE. + + +§ 1. Imagination contemplative is not part of the essence, but only a + habit or mode of the faculty. + +We have, in the two preceding chapters, arrived at definite conclusions +respecting the power and essence of the imaginative faculty. In these +two acts of penetration and combination, its separating and +characteristic attributes are entirely developed; it remains for us only +to observe a certain habit or mode of operation in which it frequently +delights, and by which it addresses itself to our perceptions more +forcibly, and asserts its presence more distinctly than in those mighty +but more secret workings wherein its life consists. + +In our examination of the combining imagination, we chose to assume the +first or simple conception to be as clear in the absence as in the +presence of the object of it. This, I suppose, is in point of fact never +the case, nor is an approximation to such distinctness of conception +always a characteristic of the imaginative mind. Many persons have +thorough and felicitous power of drawing from memory, yet never +originate a thought, nor excite an emotion. + + +§ 2. The ambiguity of conception. + +§ 3. Is not in itself capable of adding to the charm of fair things. + +The form in which conception actually occurs to ordinary minds appears +to derive value and preciousness from that indefiniteness which we +alluded to in the second chapter, (§ 2,) for there is an unfailing charm +in the memory and anticipation of things beautiful, more sunny and +spiritual than attaches to their presence; for with their presence it +is possible to be sated, and even wearied, but with the imagination of +them never; in so far that it needs some self-discipline to prevent the +mind from falling into a morbid condition of dissatisfaction with all +that it immediately possesses, and continual longing for things absent; +and yet I think this charm is not justly to be attributed to the mere +vagueness and uncertainty of the conception, except thus far, that of +objects whose substantial presence was ugly or painful the sublimity and +impressiveness, if there were any, is retained in the conception, while +the sensual offensiveness is withdrawn; thus circumstances of horror may +be safely touched in verbal description, and for a time dwelt upon by +the mind, as often by Homer and Spenser, (by the latter frequently with +too much grossness, as in the description of the combat of the Red-Cross +Knight with Errour,) which could not for a moment be regarded or +tolerated in their reality, or on canvas; and besides this mellowing and +softening operation on those it retains, the conceptive faculty has the +power of letting go many of them altogether out of its groups of ideas, +and retaining only those where the meminisse juvabit will apply; and in +this way the entire group of memories becomes altogether delightful; but +of those parts of anything which are in themselves beautiful, I think +the indistinctness no benefit, but that the brighter they are the +better; and that the peculiar charm we feel in conception results from +its grasp and blending of ideas rather than from their obscurity, for we +do not usually recall, as we have seen, one part at a time only of a +pleasant scene, one moment only of a happy day; but together with each +single object we summon up a kind of crowded and involved shadowing +forth of all the other glories with which it was associated, and into +every moment we concentrate an epitome of the day; and it will happen +frequently that even when the visible objects or actual circumstances +are not in numbers remembered; yet the feeling and joy of them is +obtained we know not how or whence, and so with a kind of conceptive +burning glass we bend the sunshine of all the day, and the fulness of +all the scene upon every point that we successively seize; and this +together with more vivid action of fancy, for I think that the wilful +and playful seizure of the points that suit her purpose and help her +springing, whereby she is distinguished from simple conception, takes +place more easily and actively with the memory of things than in +presence of them. But, however this be, and I confess that there is much +that I cannot satisfactorily to myself unravel with respect to the +nature of simple conception; it is evident that this agreeableness, +whatever it be, is not by art attainable, for all art is in some sort +realization; it may be the realization of obscurity or indefiniteness, +but still it must differ from the mere conception of obscurity and +indefiniteness; so that whatever emotions depend absolutely on +imperfectness of conception, as the horror of Milton's Death, cannot be +rendered by art, for art can only lay hold of things which have shape, +and destroys by its touch the fearfulness or pleasurableness of those +which shape have none. + + +§ 4. But gives to the imagination its regardant power over them. + +But on this indistinctness of conception, itself comparatively valueless +and unaffecting, is based the operation of the imaginative faculty with +which we are at present concerned, and in which its glory is +consummated: whereby, depriving the subject of material and bodily +shape, and regarding such of its qualities only as it chooses for +particular purpose, it forges these qualities together in such groups +and forms as it desires, and gives to their abstract being consistency +and reality, by striking them as it were with the die of an image +belonging to other matter, which stroke having once received, they pass +current at once in the peculiar conjunction and for the peculiar value +desired. + +Thus, in the description of Satan quoted in the first chapter, "And like +a comet burned," the bodily shape of the angel is destroyed, the +inflaming of the formless spirit is alone regarded; and this, and his +power of evil associated in one fearful and abstract conception are +stamped to give them distinctness and permanence with the image of the +comet, "that fires the length of Ophiuchus huge." Yet this could not be +done, but that the image of the comet itself is in a measure indistinct, +capable of awful expansion, and full of threatening and fear. Again, in +his fall, the imagination binds up the thunder, the resistance, the +massy prostration, separates them from the external form, and binds them +together by the help of that image of the mountain half sunk; which +again would be unfit but for its own indistinctness, and for that +glorious addition "with all his pines," whereby a vitality and +spear-like hostility are communicated to its falling form, and the fall +is marked as not utter subversion, but sinking only, the pines remaining +in their uprightness, and unity, and threatening of darkness upon the +descended precipice: and again in that yet more noble passage at the +close of the fourth book, where almost every operation of the +contemplative imagination is concentrated; the angelic squadron first +gathered into one burning mass by the single expression "sharpening in +mooned horns," then told out in their unity and multitude and stooped +hostility, by the image of the wind upon the corn; Satan endowed with +godlike strength and endurance in that mighty line, "like Teneriffe or +Atlas, unremoved," with infinitude of size the next instant, and with +all the vagueness and terribleness of spiritual power, by the "horror +plumed," and the "_what seemed_ both spear and shield." + + +§ 5. The third office of fancy distinguished from imagination + contemplative. + +The third function of fancy, already spoken of as subordinate to this of +the imagination, is the highest of which she is capable; like the +imagination, she beholds in the things submitted to her treatment things +different from the actual; but the suggestions she follows are not in +their nature essential in the object contemplated; and the images +resulting, instead of illustrating, may lead the mind away from it, and +change the current of contemplative feeling; for as in her operation +parallel to imagination penetrative, we saw her dwelling upon external +features, while the nobler sister, faculty, entered within, so now, when +both, from what they see and know in their immediate object, are +conjuring up images illustrative or elevatory of it, the fancy +necessarily summons those of mere external relationship, and therefore +of unaffecting influence; while the imagination, by every ghost she +raises, tells tales about the prison-house, and therefore never loses +her power over the heart, nor her unity of emotion. On the other hand, +the regardant or contemplative action of fancy is in this different +from, and in this nobler, than that mere seizing and likeness-catching +operation we saw in her before; that when contemplative, she verily +believes in the truth of the vision she has summoned, loses sight of +actuality, and beholds the new and spiritual image faithfully and even +seriously; whereas before, she summoned no spiritual image, but merely +caught the vivid actuality, or the curious resemblance of the real +object; not that these two operations are separate, for the fancy passes +gradually from mere vivid right of reality, and witty suggestion of +likeness, to a ghostly sight of what is unreal; and through this, in +proportion as she begins to feel, she rises towards and partakes of +imagination itself, for imagination and fancy are continually united, +and it is necessary, when they are so, carefully to distinguish the +feelingless part which is fancy's, from the sentient part, which is +imagination's. Let us take a few instances. Here is fancy, first, very +beautiful, in her simple capacity of likeness-catching:-- + + "To-day we purpose--aye, this hour we mount + To spur three leagues towards the Apennine. + Come down, we pray thee, ere the _hot sun count + His dewy rosary_ on the eglantine." + +Seizing on the outside resemblances of bead form, and on the slipping +from their threading bough one by one, the fancy is content to lose the +heart of the thing, the solemnity of prayer: or perhaps I do the +glorious poet wrong in saying this, for the sense of a sun worship and +orison in beginning its race, may have been in his mind; and so far as +it was so, the passage is imaginative and not fanciful. But that which +most readers would accept from it, is the mere flash of the external +image, in whose truth the fancy herself does not yet believe and +therefore is not yet contemplative. Here, however, is fancy believing in +the images she creates:-- + + "It feeds the quick growth of the serpent-vine, + And the dark linked ivy tangling wild + And budding, blown, or odor faded blooms, + Which _star the winds with points of colored light_ + As they rain through them; and _bright golden globes + Of fruit suspended in their own green heaven_." + +It is not, observe, a mere likeness that is caught here; but the flowers +and fruit are entirely deprived by the fancy of their material +existence, and contemplated by her seriously and faithfully as stars and +worlds; yet it is only external likeness that she catches; she forces +the resemblance, and lowers the dignity of the adopted image. + +Next take two delicious stanzas of fancy regardant, (believing in her +creations,) followed by one of heavenly imagination, from Wordsworth's +address to the daisy:-- + + "A Nun demure--of lowly port; + Or sprightly maiden--of Love's court, + In thy simplicity the sport + Of all temptations. + A Queen in crown of rubies drest, + A starveling in a scanty vest, + Are all as seems to suit thee best,-- + Thy appellations. + + I see thee glittering from afar, + And then thou art a pretty star,-- + Not quite so fair as many are + In heaven above thee. + Yet like a star, with glittering crest, + Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest;-- + May peace come never to his nest + Who shall reprove thee. + + Sweet flower--for by that name at last, + When all my reveries are past, + I call thee, and to that cleave fast. + Sweet silent creature, + That breath'st with me, in sun and air, + Do thou, as thou art wont, repair + My heart with gladness, and a share + Of thy meek nature." + + +§ 6. Various instances. + +Observe how spiritual, yet how wandering and playful the fancy is in the +first two stanzas, and how far she flies from the matter in hand, never +stopping to brood on the character of any one of the images she summons, +and yet for a moment truly seeing and believing in them all; while in +the last stanza the imagination returns with its deep feeling to the +heart of the flower, and "_cleaves fast_" to that. Compare the operation +of the imagination in Coleridge, on one of the most trifling objects +that could possibly have been submitted to its action. + + "The thin blue flame + Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not: + Only that film which fluttered on the grate + Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. + Methinks its motion in this hush of nature + Gives it dim sympathies with me, who live, + Making it a companionable form, + Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling spirit + By its own moods interprets; everywhere, + Echo or mirror seeking of itself, + And makes a toy of thought." + +Lastly, observe the sweet operation of fancy regardant, in the following +well-known passage from Scott, where both her beholding and transforming +powers are seen in their simplicity. + + "The rocky summits--split and rent, + Formed turret, dome, or battlement.-- + Or seemed fantastically set + With cupola or minaret. + Nor were these earth-born castles bare, + Nor lacked they many a banner fair, + For from their shivered brows displayed, + Far o'er th' unfathomable glade, + All twinkling with the dew-drop sheen, + The brier-rose fell, in streamers green,-- + And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes + Waved in the west wind's summer sighs." + +Let the reader refer to this passage, with its pretty tremulous +conclusion above the pine tree, "where glistening streamers waved and +danced," and then compare with it the following, where the imagination +operates on a scene nearly similar. + + "Gray rocks did peep from the spare moss, and stemm'd + The struggling brook; tall spires of windle strae + Threw their thin shadows down the rugged slope, + And nought but knarled roots of ancient pines, + Branchless and blasted, clench'd with grasping roots + Th' unwilling soil. . . . + . . . . . . A gradual change was here, + Yet ghastly. For, _as fast years flow away, + The smooth brow gathers, and the hair grows thin + And white; and where irradiate dewy eyes + Had shone, gleam stony orbs; so from his steps + Bright flowers departed, and the beautiful shade + Of the green groves, with all their odorous winds + And musical motions._ . . . . + . . . . . . . . . . . + . . . . . Where the pass extends + Its stony jaws, the abrupt mountain breaks. + And seems with its accumulated crags + To overhang the world; for wide expand + Beneath the wan stars, and descending moon, + Islanded seas, blue mountains, mighty streams, + _Dim tracts and vast, robed in the lustrous gloom + Of leaden-colored even_, and _fiery hills + Mingling their flames with twilight_ on the verge + Of the remote horizon. The near scene + In naked, and severe simplicity + Made contrast with the universe. A pine + Rock-rooted, stretch'd athwart the vacancy + Its swinging boughs, to each _inconstant blast + Yielding one only response at each pause_, + In most familiar cadence, with the howl, + The thunder, and the hiss of _homeless_ streams, + Mingling its solemn song." + +[Illustration: STUDY OF STONE PINE, AT SESTRI. From a drawing by +Ruskin.] + +In this last passage, the mind never departs from its solemn possession +of the solitary scene, the imagination only giving weight, meaning, and +strange human sympathies to all its sights and sounds. + +In that from Scott,[70]--the fancy, led away by the outside resemblance +of floating form and hue to the banners, loses the feeling and +possession of the scene, and places herself in circumstances of +character completely opposite to the quietness and grandeur of the +natural objects; this would have been unjustifiable, but that the +resemblance occurs to the mind of the monarch, rather than to that of +the poet; and it is that, which of all others, would have been the most +likely to occur at the time; in this point of view it has high +imaginative propriety. Of the same fanciful character is that +transformation of the tree trunks into dragons noticed before in +Turner's Jason; and in the same way this becomes imaginative as it +exhibits the effect of fear in disposing to morbid perception. Compare +with it the real and high action of the imagination on the same matter +in Wordsworth's Yew trees (which I consider the most vigorous and solemn +bit of forest landscape ever painted):-- + + "Each particular trunk a growth + Of intertwisted fibres serpentine, + Up coiling and inveterately convolved, + _Nor uninformed with Phantasy, and looks + That threaten the profane_." + +It is too long to quote, but the reader should refer to it: let him note +especially, if painter, that pure touch of color, "by sheddings from the +pining umbrage tinged." + +In the same way, the blasted trunk on the left, in Turner's drawing of +the spot where Harold fell at the battle of Hastings, takes, where its +boughs first separate, the shape of the head of an arrow; this, which is +mere fancy in itself, is imagination as it supposes in the spectator an +excited condition of feeling dependent on the history of the spot. + + +§ 7. Morbid or nervous fancy. + +I have been led perhaps into too great detail in illustrating these +points; but I think it is of no small importance to prove how in all +cases the imagination is based upon, and appeals to, a deep heart +feeling; and how faithful and earnest it is in contemplation of the +subject matter, never losing sight of it, or disguising it, but +depriving it of extraneous and material accidents, and regarding it in +its disembodied essence. I have not, however, sufficiently noted in +opposition to it, that diseased action of the fancy which depends more +on nervous temperament than intellectual power; and which, as in +dreaming, fever, insanity, and other morbid conditions of mind is +frequently a source of daring and inventive conception; and so the +visionary appearances resulting from various disturbances of the frame +by passion, and from the rapid tendency of the mind to invest with shape +and intelligence the active influences about it, as in the various +demons, spirits, and fairies of all imaginative nations; which, however, +I consider are no more to be ranked as right creations of fancy or +imagination than things actually seen and heard; for the action of the +nerves is I suppose the same, whether externally caused, or from within, +although very grand imagination may be shown by the intellectual +anticipation and realization of such impressions; as in that glorious +vignette of Turner's to the voyage of Columbus. "Slowly along the +evening sky they went." Note especially therein, how admirably true to +the natural form, and yet how suggestive of the battlement he has +rendered the level flake of evening cloud. + + +§ 8. The action of contemplative imagination is not to be expressed by + art. + +I believe that it is unnecessary for me to enter into farther detail of +illustration respecting these points; for fuller explanation of the +operations of the contemplative faculty on things verbally expressible, +the reader may be referred to Wordsworth's preface to his poems; it only +remains for us, here, to examine how far this imaginative or abstract +conception is to be conveyed by the material art of the sculptor or the +painter. + +Now, it is evident that the bold action of either the fancy or the +imagination, dependent on a bodiless and spiritual image of the object, +is not to be by lines or colors represented. We cannot, in the painting +of Satan fallen, suggest any image of pines or crags,--neither can we +assimilate the brier and the banner, nor give human sympathy to the +motion of the film, nor voice to the swinging of the pines. + + +§ 9. Except under narrow limits.--1st. Abstract rendering of form + without color. + +Yet certain powers there are, within due limits, of marking the thing +represented with an ideal character; and it was to these powers that I +alluded in defining the meaning of the term ideal, in the thirteenth +chapter of the preceding section. For it is by this operation that the +productions of high art are separated from those of the realist. + +And, first, there is evidently capability of separating color and form, +and considering either separately. Form we find abstractedly considered +by the sculptor, how far it would be possible to advantage a statue by +the addition of color, I venture not to affirm; the question is too +extensive to be here discussed. High authorities and ancient practice, +are in favor of color; so the sculpture of the middle ages: the two +statues of Mino da Fiesole in the church of St^a. Caterina at Pisa +have been colored, the irises of the eyes painted dark, and the hair +gilded, as also I think the Madonna in St^a. Maria della Spina; the +eyes have been painted in the sculptures of Orcagna in Or San Michele, +but it looks like a remnant of barbarism, (compare the pulpit of Guida +da Como, in the church of San Bartolomeo at Pistoja,) and I have never +seen color on any solid forms, that did not, to my mind, neutralize all +other power; the porcelains of Luca della Robbia are painful examples, +and in lower art, Florentine mosaic in relief; gilding is more +admissible, and tells sometimes sweetly upon figures of quaint design, +as on the pulpit of St^a. Maria Novella, while it spoils the classical +ornaments of the mouldings. But the truest grandeur of sculpture I +believe to be in the white form; something of this feeling may be owing +to the difficulty, or rather the immediately, of obtaining truly noble +color upon it, but if we could color the Elgin marbles with the flesh +tint of Giorgione, I had rather not have it done. + + +§ 10. Of color without form. + +Color, without form, is less frequently obtainable, and it may be +doubted whether it be desirable: yet I think that to the full enjoyment +of it, a certain abandonment of form is necessary; sometimes by reducing +it to the shapeless glitter of the gem, as often Tintoret and Bassano; +sometimes by loss of outline and blending of parts, as Turner; sometimes +by flatness of mass, as often Giorgione and Titian. How far it is +possible for the painter to represent those mountains of Shelley as the +poet sees them, "mingling _their flames_ with twilight," I cannot say; +but my impression is, that there is no true abstract mode of +considering color; and that all the loss of form in the works of Titian +or Turner, is not ideal, but the representation of the natural +conditions under which bright color is seen; for form is always in a +measure lost by nature herself when color is very vivid. + + +§ 11. Or of both without texture. + +Again, there is capability of representing the essential character, +form, and color of an object, without external texture. On this point +much has been said by Reynolds and others, and it is, indeed, perhaps +the most unfailing characteristic of great manner in painting. Compare a +dog of Edwin Landseer with a dog of Paul Veronese. In the first, the +outward texture is wrought out with exquisite dexterity of handling, and +minute attention to all the accidents of curl and gloss which can give +appearance of reality, while the hue and power of the sunshine, and the +truth of the shadow on all these forms is necessarily neglected, and the +large relations of the animal as a mass of color to the sky or ground, +or other parts of the picture, utterly lost. This is realism at the +expense of ideality, it is treatment essentially unimaginative.[71] With +Veronese, there is no curling nor crisping, no glossiness nor sparkle, +hardly even hair, a mere type of hide, laid on with a few +scene-painter's touches. But the essence of dog is there, the entire +magnificent, generic animal type, muscular and living, and with broad, +pure, sunny daylight upon him, and bearing his true and harmonious +relation of color to all color about him. This is ideal treatment. + +The same treatment is found in the works of all the greatest men, they +all paint the lion more than his mane, and the horse rather than his +hide; and I think also they are more careful to obtain the right +expression of large and universal light and color, than local tints; for +the warmth of sunshine, and the force of sunlighted hue are always +sublime on whatever subject they may be exhibited; and so also are light +and shade, if grandly arranged, as may be well seen in an etching of +Rembrandt's of a spotted shell, which he has made altogether sublime by +broad truth and large ideality of light and shade; and so I have seen +frequent instances of very grand ideality in treatment of the most +commonplace still life, by our own Hunt, where the petty glosses and +delicacies, and minor forms, are all merged in a broad glow of suffused +color; so also in pieces of the same kind by Etty, where, however, +though the richness and play of color are greater, and the arrangement +grander, there is less expression of light, neither is there anything in +modern art that can be set beside some choice passages of Hunt in this +respect. + + +§ 12. Abstraction or typical representation of animal form. + +Again, it is possible to represent objects capable of various accidents +in generic or symbolical form. + + +§ 13. Either when it is symbolically used. + +How far this may be done with things having necessary form, as animals, +I am not prepared to say. The lions of the Egyptian room in the British +Museum, and the fish beside Michael Angelo's Jonah, are instances; and +there is imaginative power about both which we find not in the more +perfectly realized Florentine boar, nor in Raffaelle's fish of the +draught. And yet the propriety and nobility of these types depend on the +architectural use and character of the one, and on the typical meaning +of the other: we should be grieved to see the forms of the Egyptian lion +substituted for those of Raffaelle's in its struggle with Samson, nor +would the whale of Michael Angelo be tolerated in the nets of +Gennesaret. So that I think it is only when the figure of the creature +stands not for any representation of vitality, but merely for a letter +or type of certain symbolical meaning, or else is adopted as a grand +form of decoration or support in architecture, that such generalization +is allowable, and in such circumstances I think it necessary, always +provided it be based, as in the instances given I conceive it to be, +upon thorough knowledge of the creature symbolized and wrought out by a +master hand; and these conditions being observed, I believe it to be +right and necessary in architecture to modify all animal forms by a +severe architectural stamp, and in symbolical use of them, to adopt a +typical form, to which practice the contrary, and its evil consequences +are ludicrously exhibited in the St. Peter of Carlo Dolci in the Pitti +palace, which owing to the prominent, glossy-plumed and crimson-combed +cock, is liable to be taken for the portrait of a poulterer, only let it +be observed that the treatment of the animal form here is offensive, not +only from its realization, but from the pettiness and meanness of its +realization; for it might, in other hands but Carlo Dolci's, have been a +sublime cock, though a real one, but in his, it is fit for nothing but +the spit. Compare as an example partly of symbolical treatment, partly +of magnificent realization, that supernatural lion of Tintoret, in the +picture of the Doge Loredano before the Madonna, with the plumes of his +mighty wings clashed together in cloudlike repose, and the strength of +the sea winds shut within their folding. And note farther the difference +between the typical use of the animal, as in this case, and that of the +fish of Jonah, (and again the fish before mentioned whose form is +indicated in the clouds of the baptism), and the actual occurrence of +the creature itself, with concealed meaning, as the ass colt of the +crucifixion, which it was necessary to paint as such, and not as an +ideal form. + + +§ 14. Or in architectural decoration. + +§ 15. Exception in delicate and superimposed ornament. + +I cannot enter here into the question of the exact degree of severity +and abstraction necessary in the forms of living things architecturally +employed; my own feeling on the subject is, though I dare not lay it +down as a principle, (with the Parthenon pediment standing against me +like the shield of Ajax,) that no perfect representation of animal form +is right in architectural decoration. For my own part, I had much rather +see the metopes in the Elgin room of the British Museum, and the +Parthenon without them, than have them together, and I would not +surrender, in an architectural point of view, one mighty line of the +colossal, quiet, life-in-death statue mountains in Egypt with their +narrow fixed eyes and hands on their rocky limbs, nor one Romanesque +faēade with its porphyry mosaic of indefinable monsters, nor one Gothic +moulding of rigid saints and grinning goblins, for ten Parthenons; and, +I believe, I could show some rational ground for this seeming barbarity +if this were the place to do so, but at present I can only ask the +reader to compare the effect of the so-called barbarous ancient mosaics +on the front of St. Mark's, as they have been recorded, happily, by the +faithfulness of the good Gentile Bellini, in one of his pictures now in +the Venice gallery, with the veritably barbarous pictorial substitutions +of the fifteenth century, (one only of the old mosaics remains, or did +remain till lately, over the northern door, but it is probably by this +time torn down by some of the Venetian committees of taste,) and also I +would have the old portions of the interior ceiling, or of the mosaics +of Murano and Torcello, and the glorious Cimabue mosaic of Pisa, and the +roof of the Baptistery at Parma, (that of the Florence Baptistery is a +bad example, owing to its crude whites and complicated mosaic of small +forms,) all of which are as barbarous as they can well be, in a certain +sense, but mighty in their barbarism, with any architectural decorations +whatsoever, consisting of professedly perfect animal forms, from the +vile frescoes of Federigo Zuccaro at Florence to the ceiling of the +Sistine, and again compare the professedly perfect sculpture of Milan +Cathedral with the statues of the porches of Chartres; only be it always +observed that it is not rudeness and ignorance of art, but +intellectually awful abstraction that I uphold, and also be it noted +that in all ornament, which takes place in the general effect merely as +so much fretted stone, in capitals and other pieces of minute detail, +the forms may be, and perhaps ought to be, elaborately imitative; and in +this respect again the capitals of St. Mark's church, and of the Doge's +palace at Venice may be an example to the architects of all the world, +in their boundless inventiveness, unfailing elegance, and elaborate +finish; there is more mind poured out in turning a single angle of that +church than would serve to build a modern cathedral;[72] and of the +careful finish of the work, this may serve for example, that one of the +capitals of the Doge's palace is formed of eight heads of different +animals, of which one is a bear's with a honeycomb in the mouth, whose +carved _cells_ are _hexagonal_. + + +§ 16. Abstraction necessary from imperfection of materials. + +§ 17. Abstractions of things capable of varied accident are not + imaginative. + +§ 18. Yet sometimes valuable. + +So far, then, of the abstraction proper to architecture, and to +symbolical uses, of which I shall have occasion to speak hereafter at +length, referring to it only at present as one of the operations of +imagination contemplative; other abstractions there are which are +necessarily consequent on the imperfection of materials, as of the hair +in sculpture, which is necessarily treated in masses that are in no sort +imitative, but only stand for hair, and have the grace, flow, and +feeling of it without the texture or division, and other abstractions +there are in which the form of one thing is fancifully indicated in the +matter of another; as in phantoms and cloud shapes, the use of which, in +mighty hands, is often most impressive, as in the cloudy charioted +Apollo of Nicolo Poussin in our own gallery, which the reader may oppose +to the substantial Apollo, in Wilson's Niobe, and again the phantom +vignette of Turner already noticed; only such operations of the +imagination are to be held of lower kind and dangerous consequence, if +frequently trusted in, for those painters only have the right +imaginative power who can set the supernatural form before us fleshed +and boned like ourselves.[73] Other abstractions occur, frequently, of +things which have much accidental variety of form, as of waves, on Greek +sculptures in successive volutes, and of clouds often in supporting +volumes in the sacred pictures; but these I do not look upon as results +of imagination at all, but mere signs and letters; and whenever a very +highly imaginative mind touches them, it always realizes as far as may +be. Even Titian is content to use at the top of his St. Pietro Martiri, +the conventional, round, opaque cloud, which cuts his trees open like a +gouge; but Tintoret, in his picture of the Golden Calf, though compelled +to represent the Sinai under conventional form, in order that the +receiving of the tables might be seen at the top of it, yet so soon as +it is possible to give more truth, he is ready with it; he takes a grand +fold of horizontal cloud straight from the flanks of the Alps, and shows +the forests of the mountains through its misty volume, like sea-weed +through deep sea.[74] Nevertheless, when the realization is impossible, +bold symbolism is of the highest value, and in religious art, as we +shall presently see, even necessary, as of the rays of light in the +Titian woodcut of St. Francis before noticed; and sometimes the +attention is directed by some such strange form to the meaning of the +image, which may be missed if it remains in its natural purity, (as, I +suppose, few in looking at the Cephalus and Procris of Turner, note the +sympathy of those faint rays that are just drawing back and dying +between the trunks of the far-off forest, with the ebbing life of the +nymph; unless, indeed, they happen to recollect the same sympathy marked +by Shelley in the Alastor;) but the imagination is not shown in any such +modifications; however, in some cases they may be valuable (in the +Cephalus they would be utterly destructive,) and I note them merely in +consequence of their peculiar use in religious art, presently to be +examined. + + +§ 19. Exaggeration. Its laws and limits. First, in scale of + representation. + +The last mode we have here to note in which the imagination regardant +may be expressed in art is exaggeration, of which, as it is the vice of +all bad artists, may be constantly resorted to without any warrant of +imagination, it is necessary to note strictly the admissible limits. + +In the first place, a colossal statue is necessarily no more an +exaggeration of what it represents than a miniature is a diminution, it +need not be a representation of a giant, but a representation, on a +large scale, of a man; only it is to be observed, that as any plane +intersecting the cone of rays between us and the object, must receive an +image smaller than the object; a small image is rationally and +completely expressive of a larger one; but not a large of a small one. +Hence I think that all statues above the Elgin standard, or that of +Michael Angelo's Night and Morning, are, in a measure, taken by the eye +for representations of giants, and I think them always disagreeable. The +amount of exaggeration admitted by Michael Angelo is valuable because it +separates the emblematic from the human form, and gives greater freedom +to the grand lines of the frame; for notice of his scientific system of +increase of size I may refer the reader to Sir Charles Bell's remarks on +the statues of the Medici chapel; but there is one circumstance which +Sir Charles has not noticed, and in the interpretation of which, +therefore, it is likely I may be myself wrong; that the extremities are +singularly small in proportion to the limbs, by which means there is an +expression given of strength and activity greater than in the ordinary +human type, which appears to me to be an allowance for that alteration +in proportion necessitated by increase of size, of which we took note in +Chap. VI. of the first section, § 10, note; not but that Michael Angelo +always makes the extremities comparatively small, but smallest, +comparatively, in his largest works; so I think, from the size of the +head, it may be conjectured respecting the Theseus of the Elgins. Such +adaptations are not necessary when the exaggerated image is spectral; +for as the laws of matter in that case can have no operation, we may +expand the form as far as we choose, only let careful distinction be +made between the size of the thing represented, and the scale of the +representation. The canvas on which Fuseli has stretched his Satan in +the schools of the Royal Academy is a mere concession to inability. He +might have made him look more gigantic in one of a foot square. + + +§ 20. Secondly. Of things capable of variety of scale. + +Another kind of exaggeration is of things whose size is variable to a +size or degree greater than that usual with them, as in waves and +mountains; and there are hardly any limits to this exaggeration so long +as the laws which nature observes in her increase be observed. Thus, for +instance: the form and polished surface of a breaking ripple three +inches high, are not representation of either the form or the surface of +the surf of a storm, nodding ten feet above the beach; neither would the +cutting ripple of a breeze upon a lake if simply exaggerated, represent +the forms of Atlantic surges; but as nature increases her bulk, she +diminishes the angles of ascent, and increases her divisions; and if we +would represent surges of size greater than ever existed, which it is +lawful to do, we must carry out these operations to still greater +extent. Thus, Turner, in his picture of the Slave Ship, divides the +whole sea into two masses of enormous swell, and conceals the horizon by +a gradual slope of only two or three degrees. This is intellectual +exaggeration. In the Academy exhibition of 1843, there was, in one of +the smaller rooms, a black picture of a storm, in which there appeared +on the near sea, just about to be overwhelmed by an enormous breaker, +curling right over it, an object at first sight liable to be taken for a +walnut shell, but which, on close examination, proved to be a ship with +mast and sail, with Christ and his twelve disciples in it. This is +childish exaggeration, because it is impossible, by the laws of matter +and motion, that such a breaker should ever exist. Again in mountains, +we have repeatedly observed the necessary building up and multitudinous +division of the higher peaks, and the smallness of the slopes by which +they usually rise. We may, therefore, build up the mountain as high as +we please, but we must do it in nature's way, and not in impossible +peaks and precipices; not but that a daring feature is admissible here +and there, as the Matterhorn is admitted by nature; but we must not +compose a picture out of such exceptions; we may use them, but they must +be as exceptions exhibited. I shall have much to say, when we come to +treat of the sublime, of the various modes of treating mountain form, so +that at present I shall only point to an unfortunate instance of +inexcusable and effectless exaggeration in the distance of Turner's +vignette to Milton, (the temptation on the mountain,) and desire the +reader to compare it with legitimate exaggeration, in the vignette to +the second part of Jacqueline, in Rogers's poems. + + +§ 21. Thirdly, necessary in expression of characteristic features on + diminished scale. + +Another kind of exaggeration is necessary to retain the characteristic +impressions of nature on reduced scale, it is not possible, for +instance, to give the leafage of trees in its proper proportion, when +the trees represented are large, without entirely losing their grace of +form and curvature; of this the best proof is found in the Calotype or +Daguerreotype, which fail in foliage, not only because the green rays +are ineffective, but because, on the small scale of the image, the +reduced leaves lose their organization, and look like moss attached to +sticks. In order to retain, therefore, the character of flexibility and +beauty of foliage, the painter is often compelled to increase the +proportionate size of the leaves, and to arrange them in generic +masses. Of this treatment compare the grand examples throughout the +Liber Studiorum. It is by such means only that the ideal character of +objects is to be preserved; as we before observed in the 13th chapter of +the first section. In all these cases exaggeration is only lawful as the +sole means of arriving at truth of impression when strict fidelity is +out of the question. + +Other modes of exaggeration there are, on which I shall not at present +farther insist, the proper place for their discussion being in treating +of the sublime, and these which I have at present instanced are enough +to establish the point at issue, respecting imaginative verity, inasmuch +as we find that exaggeration itself, if imaginative, is referred to +principles of truth, and of actual being. + + +§ 22. Recapitulation. + +We have now, I think, reviewed the various modes in which imagination +contemplative may be exhibited in art, and arrived at all necessary +certainties respecting the essence of the faculty: which we have found +in all its three functions, associative of truth, penetrative of truth, +and contemplative of truth; and having no dealings nor relations with +any kind of falsity. One task, however, remains to us, namely, to +observe the operation of the theoretic and imaginative faculties +together, in the attempt at realization to the bodily sense of beauty +supernatural and divine. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [70] Let it not be supposed that I mean to compare the sickly + dreaming of Shelley over clouds and waves with the masculine and + magnificent grasp of men and things which we find in Scott; it only + happens that these two passages are more illustrative, by the + likeness of the scenery they treat, than any others I could have + opposed; and that Shelley is peculiarly distinguished by the faculty + of contemplative imagination. Scott's healthy and truthful feeling + would not allow him to represent the benighted hunter provoked by + loss of game, horse, and way at once, as indulging in any more + exalted flights of imagination than those naturally consequent on + the contrast between the night's lodging he expected, and that which + befitted him. + + [71] I do not mean to withdraw the praise I have given, and shall + always be willing to give such pictures as the Old Shepherd's Chief + Mourner, and to all in which the character and inner life of animals + are developed. But all lovers of art must regret to find Mr. + Landseer wasting his energies on such inanities as the "Shoeing," + and sacrificing color, expression, and action, to an imitation of + glossy hide. + + [72] I have not brought forward any instances of the imaginative + power in architecture, as my object is not at present to exhibit its + operation in all matter, but only to define its essence; but it may + be well to note, in our own new houses of Parliament, how far a + building approved by a committee of Taste, may proceed without + manifestation either of imagination or composition; it remains to be + seen how far the towers may redeem it; and I allude to it at present + unwillingly, and only in the desire of influencing, so far as I may, + those who have the power to prevent the adoption of a design for a + bridge to take place of Westminster, which was exhibited in 1844 at + the Royal Academy, professing to be in harmony with the new + building, but which was fit only to carry a railroad over a canal. + + [73] Comp. Ch. V. § 5. + + [74] All the clouds of Tintoret are sublime; the worst that I know + in art are Correggio's, especially in the Madonna della Scudella, + and Dome of Parma. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + OF THE SUPERHUMAN IDEAL. + + +§ 1. The subject is not to be here treated in detail. + +In our investigation in the first section of the laws of beauty, we +confined ourselves to the observation of lower nature, or of humanity. +We were prevented from proceeding to deduce conclusions respecting +divine ideality by our not having then established any principles +respecting the imaginative faculty, by which, under the discipline of +the theoretic, such ideality is conceived. I had purposed to conclude +the present section by a careful examination of this subject; but as +this is evidently foreign to the matter immediately under discussion, +and involves questions of great intricacy respecting the development of +mind among those pagan nations who are supposed to have produced high +examples of spiritual ideality, I believe it will be better to delay +such inquiries until we have concluded our detailed observation of the +beauty of visible nature; and I shall therefore at present take notice +only of one or two broad principles, which were referred to, or implied, +in the chapter respecting the human ideal, and without the enunciation +of which, that chapter might lead to false conclusions. + + +§ 2. The conceivable modes of manifestation of Spiritual Beings are + four. + +There are four ways in which beings supernatural may be conceived as +manifesting themselves to human sense. The first, by external types, +signs, or influences; as God to Moses in the flames of the bush, and to +Elijah in the voice of Horeb. + +The second, by the assuming of a form not properly belonging to them; as +the Holy Spirit of that of a Dove, the second person of the Trinity of +that of a Lamb; and so such manifestations, under angelic or other form, +of the first person of the Trinity, as seem to have been made to +Abraham, Moses, and Ezekiel. + +The third, by the manifestation of a form properly belonging to them, +but not necessarily seen; as of the Risen Christ to his disciples when +the doors were shut. And the fourth, by their operation on the human +form, which they influence or inspire, as in the shining of the face of +Moses. + + +§ 3. And these are in or through creature forms familiar to us. + +It is evident that in all these cases, wherever there is form at all, it +is the form of some creature to us known. It is no new form peculiar to +spirit nor can it be. We can conceive of none. Our inquiry is simply, +therefore, by what modifications those creature forms to us known, as of +a lamb, a bird, or a human creature, may be explained as signs or +habitations of Divinity, or of angelic essence, and not creatures such +as they seem. + + +§ 4. Supernatural character may be impressed on these either by + phenomena inconsistent with their common nature, (compare chap. + 4, § 16). + +This may be done in two ways. First, by effecting some change in the +appearance of the creature inconsistent with its actual nature, as by +giving it colossal size, or unnatural color, or material, as of gold, or +silver, or flame, instead of flesh, or by taking away its property of +matter altogether, and forming it of light or shade, or in an +intermediate step, of cloud, or vapor; or explaining it by terrible +concomitant circumstances, as of wounds in the body, or strange lights +and seemings round about it; or by joining of two bodies together as in +angels' wings. Of all which means of attaining supernatural character +(which though, in their nature ordinary and vulgar, are yet effective +and very glorious in mighty hands) we have already seen the limits in +speaking of the imagination. + + +§ 5. Or by inherent Dignity. + +But the second means of obtaining supernatural character is that with +which we are now concerned, namely, retaining the actual form in its +full and material presence, and without aid from any external +interpretation whatsoever, to raise that form by mere inherent dignity +to such a pitch of power and impressiveness as cannot but assert and +stamp it for superhuman. + +On the north side of the Campo Santo at Pisa, are a series of paintings +from the Old Testament History by Benozzo Gozzoli. In the earlier of +these, angelic presences, mingled with human, occur frequently, +illustrated by no awfulness of light, nor incorporeal tracing. Clear +revealed they move, in human forms, in the broad daylight and on the +open earth, side by side, and hand in hand with men. But they never miss +of the angel. + +He who can do this has reached the last pinnacle and utmost power of +ideal, or any other art. He stands in no need thenceforward, of cloud, +nor lightning, nor tempest, nor terror of mystery. His sublime is +independent of the elements. It is of that which shall stand when they +shall melt with fervent heat, and light the firmament when the sun is as +sackcloth of hair. + + +§ 6. 1st. Of the expression of Inspiration. + +Let us consider by what means this has been effected, so far as they are +by analysis traceable; and that is not far, for here, as always, we find +that the greater part of what has been rightly accomplished has been +done by faith and intense feeling, and cannot, by aid of any rules or +teaching, be either tried, estimated, or imitated. + +And first, of the expression of supernatural influence on forms actually +human, as of sibyl or prophet. It is evident that not only here is it +unnecessary, but we are not altogether at liberty to trust for +expression to the utmost ennobling of the human form: for we cannot do +more than this, when that form is to be the actual representation, and +not the recipient of divine presence. Hence, in order to retain the +actual humanity definitely, we must leave upon it such signs of the +operation of sin and the liability to death as are consistent with +human ideality, and often more than these, definite signs of immediate +and active evil, when the prophetic spirit is to be expressed in men +such as were Saul and Balaam; neither may we ever, with just +discrimination, touch the utmost limits of beauty in human form when +inspiration is to be expressed, and not angelic or divine being; of +which reserve and subjection the most instructive instances are found in +the works of Angelico, who invariably uses inferior types for the +features of humanity, even glorified, (excepting always the Madonna,) +nor ever exerts his full power of beauty either in feature or +expression, except in angels or in the Madonna or in Christ. Now the +expression of spiritual influence without supreme elevation of the +bodily type we have seen to be a work of imagination penetrative, and we +found it accomplished by Michael Angelo; but I think by him only. I am +aware of no one else who, to my mind, has expressed the inspiration of +prophet or sibyl; this, however, I affirm not, but shall leave to the +determination of the reader, as the principles at present to be noted +refer entirely to that elevation of the creature form necessary when it +is actually representative of a spiritual being. + +§ 7. No representation of that which is more than creature is possible. + + +I have affirmed in the conclusion of the first section that "of that +which is more than creature, no creature ever conceived." I think this +almost self-evident, for it is clear that the illimitableness of Divine +attributes cannot be by matter represented, (though it may be typefied,) +and I believe that all who are acquainted with the range of sacred art +will admit, not only that no representation of Christ has ever been even +partially successful, but that the greatest painters fall therein below +their accustomed level; Perugino and Fra Angelico especially; Leonardi +has I think done best, but perhaps the beauty of the fragment left at +Milan, (for in spite of all that is said of repainting and destruction, +that Cenacolo is still the finest in existence) is as much dependent on +the very untraceableness resulting from injury as on its original +perfection. Of more daring attempts at representation of Divinity we +need not speak; only this is to be noted respecting them, that though by +the ignorant Romanists many such efforts were made under the idea of +actual representation, (note the way in which Cellini speaks of the seal +made for the Pope,) by the nobler among them I suppose they were +intended, and by us at any rate they may always be received, as mere +symbols, the noblest that could be employed, but as much symbols still +as a triangle, or the Alpha and Omega; nor do I think that the most +scrupulous amongst Christians ought to desire to exchange the power +obtained by the use of this symbol in Michael Angelo's creation of Adam +and of Eve for the effect which would be produced by the substitution of +a triangle or any other sign in place of it. Of these efforts then we +need reason no farther, but may limit ourselves to considering the +purest modes of giving a conception of superhuman but still creature +form, as of angels; in equal rank with whom, perhaps, we may without +offence place the mother of Christ: at least we must so regard the type +of the Madonna in receiving it from Romanist painters.[75] + + +§ 8. Supernatural character expressed by modification of accessories. + +And first, much is to be done by right modification of accessory +circumstances, so as to express miraculous power exercised over them by +the spiritual creature. There is a beautiful instance of this in John +Bellini's picture of St. Jerome at Venice. The saint sits upon a rock, +his grand form defined against clear green open sky; he is reading, a +noble tree springs out of a cleft in the rock, bends itself suddenly +back to form a rest for the volume, then shoots up into the sky. There +is something very beautiful in this obedient ministry of the lower +creature; but be it observed that the sweet feeling of the whole depends +upon the service being such as is consistent with its nature. It is not +animated, it does not _listen_ to the saint, nor bend itself towards him +as if in affection, this would have been mere fancy, illegitimate and +effectless. But the simple bend of the trunk to receive the book is +miraculous subjection of the true nature of the tree; it is therefore +imaginative, and very touching. + + +§ 9. Landscape of the religious painters. Its character is eminently + symmetrical. + +It is not often however that the religious painters even go this length; +they content themselves usually with impressing on the landscape perfect +symmetry and order, such as may seem consistent with, or induced by the +spiritual nature they would represent. All signs of decay, disturbance, +and imperfection, are also banished; and in doing this it is evident +that some unnaturalness and singularity must result, inasmuch as there +are no veritable forms of landscape but express or imply a state of +progression or of imperfection All mountain forms are seen to be +produced by convulsion and modelled by decay; the finer forms of cloud +have stories in them about storm; all forest grouping is wrought out +with varieties of strength and growth among its several members, and +bears evidences of struggle with unkind influences. All such appearances +are banished in the supernatural landscape; the trees grow straight, +equally branched on each side, and of such slight and feathery frame as +shows them never to have encountered blight or frost or tempest. The +mountains stand up in fantastic pinnacles; there is on them no trace of +torrent, no scathe of lightning; no fallen fragments encumber their +foundations, no worn ravines divide their flanks; the seas are always +waveless, the skies always calm, crossed only by fair, horizontal, +lightly wreathed, white clouds. + + +§ 10. Landscape of Benozzo Gozzoli. + +In some cases these conditions result partly from feeling, partly from +ignorance of the facts of nature, or incapability of representing them, +as in the first type of the treatment found in Giotto and his school; in +others they are observed on principle, as by Benozzo Gozzoli, Perugino, +and Raffaelle. There is a beautiful instance by the former in the +frescoes of the Ricardi palace, where behind the adoring angel groups +the landscape is governed by the most absolute symmetry; roses and +pomegranates, their leaves drawn to the last rib and vein, twine +themselves in fair and perfect order about delicate trellises; broad +stone pines and tall cypresses overshadow them, bright birds hover here +and there in the serene sky, and groups of angels, hand joined with +hand, and wing with wing, glide and float through the glades of the +unentangled forest. But behind the human figures, behind the pomp and +turbulence of the Kingly procession descending from the distant hills +the spirit of the landscape is changed. Severer mountains rise in the +distance, ruder prominences and less flowery vary the nearer ground, and +gloomy shadows remain unbroken beneath the forest branches. + + +§ 11. Landscape of Perugino and Raffaelle. + +The landscape of Perugino, for grace, purity and as much of nature as is +consistent with the above-named conditions, is unrivalled; and the more +interesting because in him certainly whatever limits are set to the +rendering of nature proceed not from incapability. The sea is in the +distance almost always, then some blue promontories and undulating dewy +park ground, studded with glittering trees; in the landscape of the +fresco in St^a. Maria Maddalena at Florence there is more variety than +is usual with him; a gentle river winds round the bases of rocky hills, +a river like our own Wye or Tees in their loveliest reaches; level +meadows stretch away on its opposite side; mounds set with +slender-stemmed foliage occupy the nearer ground, a small village with +its simple spire peeps from the forest at the bend of the valley, and it +is remarkable that in architecture thus employed neither Perugino nor +any other of the ideal painters ever use Italian forms but always +Transalpine, both of church and castle. The little landscape which forms +the background of his own portrait in the Uffizii is another highly +finished and characteristic example. The landscape of Raffaelle was +learned from his father, and continued for some time little modified, +though expressed with greater refinement. It became afterwards +conventional and poor, and in some cases altogether meaningless. The +haystacks and vulgar trees behind the St. Cecilia at Bologna form a +painful contrast to the pure space of mountain country in the Perugino +opposite.[76] + + +§ 12. Such Landscape is not to be imitated. + +In all these cases, while I would uphold the landscape thus employed and +treated, as worthy of all admiration, I should be sorry to advance it +for imitation. What is right in its mannerism arose from keen feeling in +the painter: imitated without the same feeling, it would be painful; the +only safe mode of following in such steps is to attain perfect knowledge +of nature herself, and then to suffer our own feelings to guide us in +the selection of what is fitting for any particular purpose. Every +painter ought to paint what he himself loves, not what others have +loved; if his mind be pure and sweetly toned, what he loves will be +lovely; if otherwise, no example can guide his selection, no precept +govern his hand; and farther let it be distinctly observed, that all +this mannered landscape is only right under the supposition of its being +a background to some supernatural presence; behind mortal beings it +would be wrong, and by itself, as landscape, ridiculous; and farther, +the chief virtue of it results from the exquisite refinement of those +natural details consistent with its character from the botanical drawing +of the flowers and the clearness and brightness of the sky. + + +§ 13. Color, and Decoration. Their use in representations of the + Supernatural. + +Another mode of attaining supernatural character is by purity of color +almost shadowless, no more darkness being allowed than is absolutely +necessary for the explanation of the forms, and the vividness of the +effect enhanced as far as may be by use of gilding, enamel, and other +jewellery. I think the smaller works of Angelico are perfect models in +this respect; the glories about the heads being of beaten rays of gold, +on which the light plays and changes as the spectator moves; (and which +therefore throw the purest flesh color out in dark relief) and such +color and light being obtained by the enamelling of the angel wings as +of course is utterly unattainable by any other expedient of art; the +colors of the draperies always pure and pale; blue, rose, or tender +green, or brown, but never dark or gloomy; the faces of the most +celestial fairness, brightly flushed: the height and glow of this flush +are noticed by Constantin as reserved by the older painters for +spiritual beings, as if expressive of light seen through the body. + +I cannot think it necessary while I insist on the value of all these +seemingly childish means when in the hands of a noble painter, to assert +also their futility and even absurdity if employed by no exalted power. +I think the error has commonly been on the side of scorn, and that we +reject much in our foolish vanity, which if wiser and more earnest we +should delight in. But two points it is very necessary to note in the +use of such accessories. + + +§ 14. Decoration so used must be generic. + +The first that the ornaments used by Angelico, Giotto, and Perugino, but +especially by Angelico, are always of a generic and abstract character. +They are not diamonds, nor brocades, nor velvets, nor gold embroideries; +they are mere spots of gold or of color, simple patterns upon +_textureless_ draperies; the angel wings burn with transparent crimson +and purple and amber, but they are not set forth with peacock's plumes; +the golden circlets gleam with changeful light, but they are not beaded +with elaborate pearls nor set with studied sapphires. + +In the works of Filippino Lippi, Mantegna, and many other painters +following, interesting examples may be found of the opposite treatment; +and as in Lippi the heads are usually very sweet, and the composition +severe, the degrading effect of the realized decorations and imitated +dress may be seen in him simply, and without any addition of painfulness +from other deficiencies of feeling. The larger of the two pictures in +the Tuscan room of the Uffizii, but for this defect, would have been a +very noble ideal work. + + +§ 15. And color pure. + +The second point to be observed is that brightness of color is +altogether inadmissible without purity and harmony; and that the sacred +painters must not be followed in their frankness of unshadowed color +unless we can also follow them in its clearness. As far as I am +acquainted with the modern schools of Germany, they seem to be entirely +ignorant of the value of color as an assistant of feeling, and to think +that hardness, dryness, and opacity are its virtues as employed in +religious art; whereas I hesitate not to affirm that in such art more +than in any other, clearness, luminousness and intensity of hue are +essential to right impression; and from the walls of the Arena chapel in +their rainbow play of brilliant harmonies, to the solemn purple tones of +Perugino's fresco in the Albizzi palace, I know not any great work of +sacred art which is not as precious in color as in all other qualities +(unless indeed it be a Crucifixion of Fra Angelico in the Florence +Academy, which has just been glazed and pumiced and painted and +varnished by the picture-cleaners until it glares from one end of the +picture gallery to the other;) only the pure white light and delicate +hue of the idealists, whose colors are by preference such as we have +seen to be the most beautiful in the chapter on Purity are carefully to +be distinguished from the golden light and deep pitched hue of the +school of Titian whose virtue is the grandeur of earthly solemnity, not +the glory of heavenly rejoicing. + + +§ 16. Ideal form of the body itself, of what variety susceptible. + +But leaving these accessory circumstances and touching the treatment of +the bodily form, it is evident in the first place that whatever typical +beauty the human body is capable of possessing must be bestowed upon it +when it is understood as spiritual. And therefore those general +proportions and types which are deducible from comparison of the nobler +individuals of the race, must be adopted and adhered to; admitting among +them not, as in the human ideal, such varieties as result from past +suffering, or contest with sin, but such only as are consistent with +sinless nature or are the signs of instantly or continually operative +affections; for though it is conceivable that spirit should suffer, it +is inconceivable that spiritual frame should retain like the stamped +inelastic human clay, the brand of sorrow past, unless fallen. + + "His face, + Deep scars of thunder had entrenched, and care + Sat on his faded cheek." + +Yet so far forth the angelic ideal is diminished, nor could this be +suffered in pictorial representation. + + +§ 17. Anatomical development how far admissible. + +Again, such muscular development as is necessary to the perfect beauty +of the body, is to be rendered. But that which is necessary to strength, +or which appears to have been the result of laborious exercise, is +inadmissible. No herculean form is spiritual, for it is degrading the +spiritual creature to suppose it operative through impulse of bone and +sinew; its power is immaterial and constant, neither dependent on, nor +developed by exertion. Generally, it is well to conceal anatomical +development as far as may be; even Michael Angelo's anatomy interferes +with his divinity; in the hands of lower men the angel becomes a +preparation. How far it is possible to subdue or generalize the naked +form I venture not to affirm, but I believe that it is best to conceal +it as far as may be, not with draperies light and undulating, that fall +in with, and exhibit its principal lines, but with draperies severe and +linear, such as were constantly employed before the time of Raffaelle. I +recollect no single instance of a naked angel that does not look boylike +or child-like, and unspiritualized; even Fra Bartolomeo's might with +advantage be spared from the pictures at Lucca, and, in the hands of +inferior men, the sky is merely encumbered with sprawling infants; those +of Domenichino in the Madonna del Rosario, and Martyrdom of St. Agnes, +are peculiarly offensive, studies of bare-legged children howling and +kicking in volumes of smoke. Confusion seems to exist in the minds of +subsequent painters between Angels and Cupids. + + +§ 18. Symmetry. How valuable. + +Farther, the qualities of symmetry and repose are of peculiar value in +spiritual form. We find the former most earnestly sought by all the +great painters in the arrangement of the hair, wherein no loosely +flowing nor varied form is admitted, but all restrained in undisturbed +and equal ringlets; often, as in the infant Christ of Fra Angelico, +supported on the forehead in forms of sculpturesque severity. The Angel +of Masaccio, in the Deliverance of Peter, grand both in countenance and +motion, loses much of his spirituality because the painter has put a +little too much of his own character into the hair, and left it +disordered. + + +§ 19. The influence of Greek art, how dangerous. + +§ 20. Its scope, how limited. + +Of repose, and its exalting power, I have already said enough for our +present purpose, though I have not insisted on the peculiar +manifestation of it in the Christian ideal as opposed to the pagan. But +this, as well as other questions relating to the particular development +of the Greek mind, is foreign to the immediate inquiry, which therefore +I shall here conclude in the hope of resuming it in detail after +examining the laws of beauty in the inanimate creation; always, however, +holding this for certain, that of whatever kind or degree the short +coming may be, it is not possible but that short coming should be +visible in every pagan conception, when set beside Christian; and +believing, for my own part, that there is not only deficiency, but such +difference in kind as must make all Greek conception full of danger to +the student in proportion to his admiration of it; as I think has been +fatally seen in its effect on the Italian schools, when its pernicious +element first mingled with their solemn purity, and recently in its +influence on the French historical painters: neither can I from my +present knowledge fix upon an ancient statue which expresses by the +countenance any one elevated character of soul, or any single +enthusiastic self-abandoning affection, much less any such majesty of +feeling as might mark the features for supernatural. The Greek could not +conceive a spirit; he could do nothing without limbs; his god is a +finite god, talking, pursuing, and going journeys;[77] if at any time he +was touched with a true feeling of the unseen powers around him, it was +in the field of poised battle, for there is something in the near coming +of the shadow of death, something in the devoted fulfilment of mortal +duty, that reveals the real God, though darkly; that pause on the field +of Platęa was not one of vain superstition; the two white figures that +blazed along the Delphic plain, when the earthquake and the fire led the +charge from Olympus, were more than sunbeams on the battle dust; the +sacred cloud, with its lance light and triumph singing, that went down +to brood over the masts of Salamis, was more than morning mist among the +olives; and yet what were the Greek's thoughts of his god of battle? No +spirit power was in the vision; it was a being of clay strength and +human passion, foul, fierce, and changeful; of penetrable arms and +vulnerable flesh. Gather what we may of great, from pagan chisel or +pagan dream, and set it beside the orderer of Christian warfare, Michael +the Archangel: not Milton's "with hostile brow and visage all inflamed," +not even Milton's in kingly treading of the hills of Paradise, not +Raffaelle's with the expanded wings and brandished spear, but Perugino's +with his triple crest of traceless plume unshaken in heaven, his hand +fallen on his crossleted sword, the truth girdle binding his undinted +armor; God has put his power upon him, resistless radiance is on his +limbs, no lines are there of earthly strength, no trace on the divine +features of earthly anger; trustful and thoughtful, fearless, but full +of love, incapable except of the repose of eternal conquest, vessel and +instrument of Omnipotence, filled like a cloud with the victor light, +the dust of principalities and powers beneath his feet, the murmur of +hell against him heard by his spiritual ear like the winding of a shell +on the far-off sea-shore. + + +§ 21. Conclusion. + +It is vain to attempt to pursue the comparison; the two orders of art +have in them nothing common, and the field of sacred history, the intent +and scope of Christian feeling, are too wide and exalted to admit of the +juxtaposition of any other sphere or order of conception; they embrace +all other fields like the dome of heaven. With what comparison shall we +compare the types of the martyr saints, the St. Stephen of Fra +Bartolomeo, with his calm forehead crowned by the stony diadem, or the +St. Catherine of Raffaelle looking up to heaven in the dawn of the +eternal day, with her lips parted in the resting from her pain? or with +what the Madonnas of Francia and Pinturicchio, in whom the hues of the +morning and the solemnity of the eve, the gladness in accomplished +promise, and sorrow of the sword-pierced heart, are gathered into one +human lamp of ineffable love? or with what the angel choirs of Angelico, +with the flames on their white foreheads waving brighter as they move, +and the sparkles streaming from their purple wings like the glitter of +many suns upon a sounding sea, listening, in the pauses of alternate +song, for the prolonging of the trumpet blast, and the answering of +psaltery and cymbal, throughout the endless deep and from all the star +shores of heaven? + + +FOOTNOTES + + [75] I take no note of the representation of evil spirits, since + throughout we have been occupied in the pursuit of beauty; but it + may be observed generally that there is great difficulty to be + overcome in attempts of this kind, because the elevation of the form + necessary to give it spirituality destroys the appearance of evil; + hence even the greatest painters have been reduced to receive aid + from the fancy, and to eke out all they could conceive of malignity + by help of horns, hoofs, and claws. Giotto's Satan in the Campo + Santo, with the serpent gnawing the heart, is fine; so many of the + fiends of Orcagna, and always those of Michael Angelo. Tintoret in + the Temptation, with his usual truth of invention, has represented + the evil spirit under the form of a fair angel, the wings burning + with crimson and silver, the face sensual and treacherous. It is + instructive to compare the results of imagination associated with + powerful fancy in the demons of these great painters, or even in + such nightmares as that of Salvator already spoken of, Sect. I. + Chap. V. § 12 (note,) with the simple ugliness of idiotic distortion + in the meaningless terrorless monsters of Bronzino in the large + picture of the Uffizii, where the painter, utterly uninventive, + having assembled all that is abominable of hanging flesh, bony + limbs, crane necks, staring eyes, and straggling hair, cannot yet by + the sum and substance of all obtain as much real fearfulness as an + imaginative painter could throw into the turn of a lip or the + knitting of a brow. + + [76] I have not thought it necessary to give farther instances at + present, since I purpose hereafter to give numerous examples of this + kind of ideal landscape. Of true and noble landscape, as such, I am + aware of no instances except where least they might have been + expected, among the sea-bred Venetians. Ghirlandajo shows keen, + though prosaic, sense of nature in that view of Venice behind an + Adoration of Magi in the Uffizii, but he at last walled himself up + among gilded entablatures. Masaccio indeed has given one grand + example in the fresco of the Tribute Money, but its color is now + nearly lost. + + [77] I know not anything in the range of art more unspiritual than + the Apollo Belvidere; the raising of the fingers of the right hand + in surprise at the truth of the arrow is altogether human, and would + be vulgar in a prince, much more in a deity. The sandals destroy the + divinity of the foot, and the lip is curled with mortal passion. + + + + + ADDENDA. + + +Although the plan of the present portion of this work does not admit of +particular criticism, it will neither be useless nor irrelevant to refer +to one or two works, lately before the public, in the Exhibitions of the +Royal Academy, which either illustrate, or present exceptions to, any of +the preceding statements. I would first mention, with reference to what +has been advanced respecting the functions of Associative Imagination, +the very important work of Mr. Linnell, the "Eve of the Deluge;" a +picture upheld by its admirers (and these were some of the most +intelligent judges of the day) for a work of consummate imaginative +power; while it was pronounced by the public journals to be "a chaos of +unconcocted color." If the writers for the press had been aware of the +kind of study pursued by Mr. Linnell through many laborious years, +characterized by an observance of nature scrupulously and minutely +patient, directed by the deepest sensibility, and aided by a power of +drawing almost too refined for landscape subjects, and only to be +understood by reference to his engravings after Michael Angelo, they +would have felt it to be unlikely that the work of such a man should be +entirely undeserving of respect. On the other hand, the grounds of its +praise were unfortunately chosen; for, though possessing many merits, it +had no claim whatever to be ranked among productions of Creative art. It +would perhaps be difficult to point to a work so exalted in feeling, and +so deficient in invention. The sky had been strictly taken from nature, +this was evident at a glance; and as a study of sky it was every way +noble. To the purpose of the picture it hardly contributed; its +sublimity was that of splendor, not of terror; and its darkness that of +retreating, not of gathering, storm. The features of the landscape were +devoid alike of variety and probability; the division of the scene by +the central valley and winding river at once theatrical and commonplace; +and the foreground, on which the light was intense, alike devoid of +dignity in arrangement, and of interest in detail. + +The falseness or deficiency of color in the works of Mr. Landseer has +been remarked above. The writer has much pleasure in noticing a very +beautiful exception in the picture of the "Random Shot," certainly the +most successful rendering he has ever seen of the hue of snow under warm +but subdued light. The subtlety of gradation from the portions of the +wreath fully illumined, to those which, feebly tinged by the horizontal +rays, swelled into a dome of dim purple, dark against the green evening +sky; the truth of the blue shadows, with which this dome was barred, and +the depth of delicate color out of which the lights upon the footprints +were raised, deserved the most earnest and serious admiration; proving, +at the same time, that the errors in color, so frequently to be +regretted in the works of the painter, are the result rather of +inattention than of feeble perception. A curious proof of this +inattention occurs in the disposition of the shadows in the background +of the "Old Cover Hack," No. 229. One of its points of light is on the +rusty iron handle of a pump, in the shape of an S. The sun strikes the +greater part of its length, illuminating the perpendicular portion of +the curve; yet shadow is only cast on the wall behind by the returning +portion of the lower extremity. A smile may be excited by the notice of +so trivial a circumstance; but the simplicity of the error renders it +the more remarkable, and the great masters of chiaroscuro are accurate +in all such minor points; a vague sense of greater truth results from +this correctness, even when it is not in particulars analyzed or noted +by the observer. In the small but very valuable Paul Potter in Lord +Westminster's collection, the body of one of the sheep under the hedge +is for the most part in shadow, but the sunlight touches the extremity +of the back. The sun is low, and the shadows feeble and distorted; yet +that of the sunlighted fleece is cast exactly in its true place and +proportion beyond that of the hedge. The spectator may not observe this; +yet, unobserved, it is one of the circumstances which make him feel the +picture to be full of sunshine. + +As an example of perfect color, and of the most refined handling ever +perhaps exhibited in animal painting, the Butcher's Dog in the corner of +Mr. Mulready's "Butt," No. 160, deserved a whole room of the Academy to +himself. This, with the spaniel in the "Choosing the Wedding Gown," and +the two dogs in the hayfield subject (Burchell and Sophia), displays +perhaps the most wonderful, because the most dignified, finish in the +expression of anatomy and covering--of muscle and hide at once, and +assuredly the most perfect unity of drawing and color, which the entire +range of ancient and modern art can exhibit. Albert Durer is indeed the +only rival who might be suggested; and, though greater far in +imagination, and equal in draughtsmanship, Albert Durer was less true +and less delicate in hue. In sculpturesque arrangement both masters show +the same degree of feeling: any of these dogs of Mulready might be taken +out of the canvas and cut in alabaster, or, perhaps better, struck upon +a coin. Every lock and line of the hair has been grouped as it is on a +Greek die; and if this not always without some loss of ease and of +action, yet this very loss is ennobling, in a period when all is +generally sacrificed to the great coxcombry of art, the affectation of +ease. + +Yet Mr. Mulready himself is not always free from affectation of some +kind; mannerism, at least, there is in his treatment of tree trunks. +There is a ghastliness about his labored anatomies of them, as well as a +want of specific character. Why need they be always flayed? The hide of +a beech tree, or of a birch or fir, is nearly as fair a thing as an +animal's; glossy as a dove's neck barred with black like a zebra, or +glowing in purple grey and velvet brown like furry cattle in sunset. Why +not paint these as Mr. Mulready paints other things, as they are? That +simplest, that deepest of all secrets, which gives such majesty to the +ragged leaves about the edges of the pond in the "Gravel-pit." (No. +125.), and imparts a strange interest to the grey ragged urchins +disappearing behind the bank, that bank so low, so familiar, so sublime! +What a contrast between the deep sentiment of that commonest of all +common, homeliest of all homely, subjects, and the lost sentiment of Mr. +Stanfield's "Amalfi" the chief landscape of the year, full of exalted +material, and mighty crags, and massy seas, grottoes, precipices, and +convents, fortress-towers and cloud-capped mountains, and all in vain, +merely because that same simple secret has been despised; because +nothing there is painted as it is! The picture was a most singular +example of the scenic assemblage of contradictory theme which is +characteristic of Picturesque, as opposed to Poetical, composition. The +lines chosen from Rogers for a titular legend were full of summer, +glowing with golden light, and toned with quiet melancholy: + + "To him who sails + Under the shore, a few white villages, + Scattered above, below, some in the clouds, + Some on the margin of the dark blue sea, + And glittering thro' their lemon groves, announce + The region of Amalfi. Then, half-fallen, + A lonely watch-tower on the precipice, + Their ancient landmark, comes--long may it last! + And to the seaman, in a distant age, + Though now he little thinks how large his debt, + Serve for their monument." + +Prepared by these lines for a dream upon deep, calm waters, under the +shadow and scent of the close lemon leaves, the spectator found himself +placed by the painter, wet through, in a noisy fishing boat, on a +splashing sea, with just as much on his hands as he could manage to keep +her gunwale from being stove in against a black rock; and with a heavy +grey squall to windward. (This squall, by the by, was the very same +which appeared in the picture of the Magra of 1847, and so were the +snowy mountains above; only the squall at Amalfi entered on the left, +and at the Magra on the right.) Now the scenery of Amalfi is impressive +alike in storm or calm, and the writer has seen the Mediterranean as +majestic and as southern-looking in its rage as in its rest. But it is +treating both the green water and woods unfairly to destroy their peace +without expressing their power; and withdraw from them their sadness and +their sun, without the substitution of any effect more terrific than +that of a squall at the Nore. The snow on the distant mountains chilled +what it could not elevate, and was untrue to the scene besides; there is +no snow on the Monte St. Angelo in summer except what is kept for the +Neapolitan confectioners. The great merit of the picture was its +rock-painting; too good to have required the aid of the exaggeration of +forms which satiated the eye throughout the composition. + +Mr. F. R. Pickersgill's "Contest of Beauty" (No. 515.), and Mr. Uwins's +"Vineyard Scene in the South of France," were, after Mr. Mulready's +works, among the most interesting pieces of color in the Exhibition. The +former, very rich and sweet in its harmonies, and especially happy in +its contrasts of light and dark armor; nor less in the fancy of the +little Love who, losing his hold of the orange boughs, was falling +ignominiously without having time to open his wings. The latter was a +curious example of what I have described as abstraction of color. +Strictly true or possible it was not; a vintage is usually a dusty and +dim-looking procedure; but there were poetry and feeling in Mr. Uwins's +idealization of the sombre black of the veritable grape into a luscious +ultramarine purple, glowing among the green leaves like so much painted +glass. The figures were bright and graceful in the extreme and most +happily grouped. Little else that could be called color was to be seen +upon the walls of the Exhibition, with the exception of the smaller +works of Mr. Etty. Of these, the single head, "Morning Prayer," (No. +25.), and the "Still Life" (No. 73.), deserved, allowing for their +peculiar aim, the highest praise. The larger subjects, more especially +the St. John, were wanting in the merits peculiar to the painter; and in +other respects it is alike painful and useless to allude to them. A very +important and valuable work of Mr. Harding was placed, as usual, where +its merits could be but ill seen, and where its chief fault, a +feebleness of color in the principal light on the distant hills, was +apparent. It was one of the very few views of the year which were +transcripts, nearly without exaggeration, of the features of the +localities. + +Among the less conspicuous landscapes, Mr. W. E. Dighton's "Hay Meadow +Corner" deserved especial notice; it was at once vigorous, fresh, +faithful, and unpretending, the management of the distance most +ingenious, and the painting of the foreground, with the single exception +of Mr. Mulready's above noticed, unquestionably the best in the room. I +have before had occasion to notice a picture by this artist, "A Hayfield +in a Shower," exhibited in the British Institution in 1847, and this +year (1848) in the Scottish Academy, whose sky, in qualities of rainy, +shattered, transparent grey, I have seldom seen equalled; nor the mist +of its distance, expressive alike of previous heat and present heat of +rain. I look with much interest for other works by this painter. + +A hurried visit to Scotland in the spring of this year, while it +enables the writer to acknowledge the ardor and genius manifested in +very many of the works exhibited in the Scottish Academy, cannot be +considered as furnishing him with sufficient grounds for specific +criticism. He cannot, however, err in testifying his concurrence in the +opinion expressed to him by several of the most distinguished members of +that Academy, respecting the singular merit of the works of Mr. H. +Drummond. A cabinet picture of "Banditti on the Watch," appeared to him +one of the most masterly, unaffected, and sterling pieces of quiet +painting he has ever seen from the hand of a living artist; and the +other works of Mr. Drummond were alike remarkable for their manly and +earnest finish, and their sweetness of feeling. + + * * * * * + + CORRECTIONS MADE TO THE ORIGINAL TEXT. + +Page 98: 'wherein the superioity' corrected to superiority. + +Page 129: 'Convent of St. Marks' corrected to mark's + +Page 159: 'had not been hoplessly' corrected to hopelessly. + +Page 218: 'in the landscape of the fresco in St^a.' originally S^ta. + +Page 226: 'alike devoid of dignity in arrangement' originally arrangemen + +Footnote 40: 'De la Poėsie Chrétienne', accented to be in accordance + with text. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Modern Painters Volume II (of V), by John Ruskin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN PAINTERS VOLUME II (OF V) *** + +***** This file should be named 29906-8.txt or 29906-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/9/0/29906/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marius Borror 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. 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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: Modern Painters Volume II (of V) + +Author: John Ruskin + +Release Date: September 4, 2009 [EBook #29906] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN PAINTERS VOLUME II (OF V) *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marius Borror and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" style="background-color: #dcdcdc; color: #696969; " summary="Transcriber's note."> +<tr> +<td style="width:25%; vertical-align:top"> +Transcriber's note: +</td> +<td class="norm"> +A few typographical errors have been corrected. They +appear in the text <span class="correction" title="explanation will pop up">like this</span>, and the +explanation will appear when the mouse pointer is moved over the marked +passage. Sections in Greek will yield a transliteration +when the pointer is moved over them, and words using diacritic characters in the +Latin Extended Additional block, which may not display in some fonts or browsers, will +display an unaccented version. Original page numbers are displayed in +the margin as: [Page xxx]. <br /><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<table class="nobctr" summary="Illustration."> +<tr> + <td><span class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img1.jpg" width="650" height="398" alt="LANDSCAPE" title="LANDSCAPE" /></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="caption">LANDSCAPE<br /><span style="font-size: 0.8em; ">FROM A PAINTING BY<br /></span>J. M. W. TURNER</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<table class="allbctr" style="width: 60%; " summary="Front page."> +<tr> <td class="pd" style="border-bottom: black 1px solid; " colspan="2"><h5>Library Edition</h5> </td> </tr> + +<tr> <td style="padding-top: 3em; " colspan="2"><h3>THE COMPLETE WORKS</h3> </td> </tr> + +<tr> <td colspan="2"><h6>OF</h6> </td> </tr> + +<tr> <td style="padding-bottom: 5em; " colspan="2"><h2>JOHN RUSKIN</h2> </td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td colspan="2"><h5>MODERN PAINTERS</h5> </td> </tr> +<tr> <td colspan="2"><h5><span class="sc">Volume II</span>—OF TRUTH AND THEORETIC</h5> </td> </tr> +<tr> <td colspan="2"><h5>FACULTIES</h5> </td> </tr> +<tr> <td style="padding-bottom: 5em; " colspan="2"><h5><span class="sc">Volume III</span>—OF MANY THINGS</h5> </td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td style="border-top: black 1px solid; padding-top: 1.5em; " colspan="2"><h3>NATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION</h3> </td> </tr> +<tr> <td><h3 style="text-align: left; padding-left: 3em; ">NEW YORK</h3></td> + <td><h3 style="text-align: right; padding-right: 3em; ">CHICAGO</h3></td> </tr> +</table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 5em; "> </div> +<h2>MODERN PAINTERS.</h2> + +<h4>VOLUME II.,</h4> + +<h6>CONTAINING</h6> + +<h5>PART III.,</h5> + +<h5>SECTIONS I. AND II.</h5> + +<h4>OF THE IMAGINATIVE AND THEORETIC FACULTIES.</h4> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<hr class="art" /> +<h2>SYNOPSIS OF CONTENTS.</h2> + +<h3>PART III.</h3> + +<h4>OF IDEAS OF BEAUTY.</h4> +<hr class="art" /> + + +<h3>SECTION I.</h3> + +<h5>OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY.</h5> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"> <span class="sc">Chapter I.</span>—Of the Rank and Relations of the Theoretic + Faculty.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"> </td> + <td class="spac"> </td> + <td class="rsp"><span class="sc">page</span></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">With what care the subject is to be approached.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page001">1</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And of what importance considered.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page002">2</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The doubtful force of the term "utility".</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page003">3</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Its proper sense.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page004">4</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How falsely applied in these times.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page004">4</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The evil consequences of such interpretation. How connected with national power.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page005">5</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How to be averted.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page006">6</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Division of the pursuits of men into subservient and objective.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page008">8</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Their relative dignities.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page010">10</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How reversed through erring notions of the contemplative and imaginative faculties.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page010">10</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c1p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Object of the present section.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page011">11</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter II.</span>—Of the Theoretic Faculty as concerned with + Pleasures of Sense.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Explanation of the term "theoretic".</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page012">12</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of the differences of rank in pleasures of sense.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page012">12</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Use of the terms Temperate and Intemperate.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page013">13</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Right use of the term "intemperate".</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page013">13</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Grounds of inferiority in the pleasures which are subjects of intemperance.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page014">14</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Evidence of higher rank in pleasures of sight and hearing.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page015">15</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How the lower pleasures may be elevated in rank.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page016">16</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ideas of beauty how essentially moral.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page017">17</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How degraded by heartless reception.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page017">17</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c2p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How exalted by affection.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page018">18</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter III.</span>—Of Accuracy and Inaccuracy in Impressions + of Sense.</p> +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">By what test is the health of the perceptive faculty to be determined?</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page019">19</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And in what sense may the terms Right and Wrong be attached to its conclusions?</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page020">20</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What power we have over impressions of sense.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page021">21</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Depends on acuteness of attention.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page021">21</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ultimate conclusions universal.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page022">22</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What duty is attached to this power over impressions of sense.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page022">22</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How rewarded.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page023">23</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Especially with respect to ideas of beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page023">23</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Errors induced by the power of habit.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page024">24</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The necessity of submission in early stages of judgment.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page024">24</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The large scope of matured judgment.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page025">25</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How distinguishable from false taste.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page025">25</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The danger of a spirit of choice.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page026">26</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And criminality.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page027">27</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How certain conclusions respecting beauty are by reason demonstrable.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page027">27</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p16">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">With what liabilities to error.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page028">28</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c3p17">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The term "beauty" how limitable in the outset. Divided into typical and vital.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page028">28</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter IV.</span>—Of False Opinions held concerning Beauty.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of the false opinion that truth is beauty, and vice versa.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page030">30</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of the false opinion that beauty is usefulness. Compare <a href="#s1c12p5">Chap. xii. § 5</a>.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page031">31</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of the false opinion that beauty results from custom. Compare <a href="#s1c6p1">Chap. vi. § 1</a>.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page031">31</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The twofold operation of custom. It deadens sensation, but confirms affection.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page031">31</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">But never either creates or destroys the essence of beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page032">32</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Instances.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page032">32</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of the false opinion that beauty depends on the association of ideas.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page033">33</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Association. Is, 1st, rational. It is of no efficiency as a cause of beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page033">33</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Association accidental. The extent of its influence.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page034">34</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The dignity of its function.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page035">35</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How it is connected with impressions of beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page036">36</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c4p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And what caution it renders necessary in the examination of them.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page036">36</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter V.</span>—Of Typical Beauty:—First, of Infinity, or the + Type of Divine Incomprehensibility.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Impossibility of adequately treating the subject.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page038">38</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">With what simplicity of feeling to be approached.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page038">38</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The child instinct respecting space.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page039">39</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Continued in after life.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page040">40</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Whereto this instinct is traceable.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page040">40</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Infinity how necessary in art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page041">41</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Conditions of its necessity.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page042">42</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And connected analogies.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page042">42</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How the dignity of treatment is proportioned to the expression of infinity.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page043">43</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Examples among the Southern schools.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page044">44</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Among the Venetians.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page044">44</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Among the painters of landscape.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page045">45</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Other modes in which the power of infinity is felt.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page045">45</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The beauty of curvature.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page046">46</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How constant in external nature.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page046">46</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p16">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The beauty of gradation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page047">47</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p17">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How found in nature.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page047">47</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p18">§ 18.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How necessary in Art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page048">48</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c5p19">§ 19.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Infinity not rightly implied by vastness.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page049">49</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter VI.</span>—Of Unity, or the Type of the Divine Comprehensiveness.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The general conception of divine Unity.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page050">50</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The glory of all things is their Unity.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page050">50</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The several kinds of unity. Subjectional. Original. Of sequence, and of membership.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page051">51</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p4">§ 4</a></td> + <td class="spac">Unity of membership. How secured.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page052">52</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Variety. Why required.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page053">53</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Change, and its influence on beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page054">54</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The love of change. How morbid and evil.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page055">55</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The conducing of variety towards unity of subjection.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page055">55</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And towards unity of sequence.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page057">57</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The nature of proportion. 1st, of apparent proportion.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page057">57</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The value of apparent proportion in curvature.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page060">60</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How by nature obtained.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page061">61</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Apparent proportion in melodies of line.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page061">61</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Error of Burke in this matter.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page062">62</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Constructive proportion. Its influence in plants.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page063">63</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p16">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And animals.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page064">64</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c6p17">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Summary.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page064">64</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter VII.</span>—Of Repose, or the Type of Divine Permanence.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c7p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Universal feeling respecting the necessity of repose in art. Its sources.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page065">65</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c7p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Repose how expressed in matter.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page066">66</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c7p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The necessity to repose of an implied energy.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page066">66</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c7p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Mental repose, how noble.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page067">67</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c7p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Its universal value as a test of art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page068">68</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c7p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Instances in the Laocoon and Theseus.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page069">69</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c7p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And in altar tombs.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page070">70</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter VIII.</span>—Of Symmetry, or the Type of Divine Justice.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c8p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Symmetry, what and how found in organic nature.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page072">72</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c8p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How necessary in art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page072">72</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c8p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">To what its agreeableness is referable. Various instances.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page073">73</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c8p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Especially in religious art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page073">73</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter IX.</span>—Of Purity, or the Type of Divine Energy.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The influence of light as a sacred symbol.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page075">75</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The idea of purity connected with it.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page075">75</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Originally derived from conditions of matter.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page076">76</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Associated ideas adding to the power of the impression. Influence of clearness.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page076">76</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Perfect beauty of surface, in what consisting.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page077">77</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Purity only metaphorically a type of sinlessness.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page078">78</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Energy, how expressed by purity of matter.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page079">79</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And of color.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page079">79</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c9p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Spirituality, how so expressed.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page079">79</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter X.</span>—Of Moderation, or the Type of Government + by Law.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Meaning of the terms Chasteness and Refinement.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page081">81</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How referable to temporary fashions.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page081">81</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How to the perception of completion.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page081">81</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Finish, by great masters esteemed essential.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page082">82</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Moderation, its nature and value.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page084">84</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">It is the girdle of beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page084">84</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How found in natural curves and colors.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page084">84</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c10p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How difficult of attainment, yet essential to all good.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page085">85</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter XI.</span>—General Inferences respecting Typical Beauty.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c11p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The subject incompletely treated, yet admitting of general conclusions.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page086">86</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c11p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Typical beauty not created for man's sake.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page087">87</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c11p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">But degrees of it for his sake admitted.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page087">87</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c11p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What encouragement hence to be received.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page087">87</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter XII.</span>—Of Vital Beauty:—First, as Relative.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Transition from typical to vital Beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page089">89</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with vital beauty, is charity.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page090">90</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Only with respect to plants, less affection than sympathy.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page091">91</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Which is proportioned to the appearance of energy in the plants.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page092">92</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">This sympathy is unselfish, and does not regard utility.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page093">93</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Especially with respect to animals.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page094">94</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And it is destroyed by evidences of mechanism.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page095">95</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The second perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with life is justice of moral judgment.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page096">96</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How impeded.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page097">97</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The influence of moral signs in expression.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page097">97</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">As also in plants.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page099">99</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c12p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Recapitulation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page100">100</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter XIII.</span>—Of Vital Beauty:—Secondly, as Generic.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The beauty of fulfilment of appointed function in every animal.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page101">101</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The two senses of the word "ideal." Either it refers to action of the imagination.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page102">102</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Or to perfection of type.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page103">103</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">This last sense how inaccurate, yet to be retained.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page103">103</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of Ideal form. First, in the lower animals.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page104">104</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">In what consistent.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page104">104</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ideal form in vegetables.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page105">105</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The difference of position between plants and animals.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page105">105</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Admits of variety in the ideal of the former.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page106">106</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ideal form in vegetables destroyed by cultivation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page107">107</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Instance in the Soldanella and Ranunculus.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page108">108</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The beauty of repose and felicity, how consistent with such ideal.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page108">108</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The ideality of Art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page109">109</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How connected with the imaginative faculties.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page109">109</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c13p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ideality, how belonging to ages and conditions.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page110">110</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter XIV.</span>—Of Vital Beauty:—Thirdly, in Man.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Condition of the human creature entirely different from that of the lower animals.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page111">111</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What room here for idealization.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page111">111</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How the conception of the bodily ideal is reached.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page112">112</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Modifications of the bodily ideal owing to influence of mind. First, of intellect.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page113">113</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Secondly, of the moral feelings.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page113">113</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What beauty is bestowed by them.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page115">115</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How the soul culture interferes harmfully with the bodily ideal.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page115">115</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The inconsistency among the effects of the mental virtues on the form.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page116">116</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Is a sign of God's kind purpose towards the race.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page116">116</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Consequent separation and difference of ideals.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page117">117</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The <i>effects</i> of the Adamite curse are to be distinguished from signs of its immediate activity.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page118">118</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Which latter only are to be banished from ideal form.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page118">118</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ideal form is only to be obtained by portraiture.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page119">119</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Instances among the greater of the ideal Masters.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page119">119</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Evil results of opposite practice in modern times.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page120">120</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p16">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The right use of the model.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page121">121</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p17">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ideal form to be reached only by love.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page121">121</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p18">§ 18.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Practical principles deducible.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page122">122</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p19">§ 19.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Expressions chiefly destructive of ideal character. 1st, Pride.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page122">122</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p20">§ 20.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Portraiture ancient and modern.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page123">123</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p21">§ 21.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Secondly, Sensuality.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page123">123</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p22">§ 22.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How connected with impurity of color.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page124">124</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p23">§ 23.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And prevented by its splendor.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page124">124</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p24">§ 24.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Or by severity of drawing.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page125">125</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p25">§ 25.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Degrees of descent in this respect: Rubens, Correggio, and Guido.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page125">125</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p26">§ 26.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And modern art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page126">126</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p27">§ 27.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Thirdly, ferocity and fear. The latter how to be distinguished from awe.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page126">126</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p28">§ 28.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Holy fear, how distinct from human terror.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page127">127</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p29">§ 29.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ferocity is joined always with fear. Its unpardonableness.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page127">127</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p30">§ 30.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Such expressions how sought by painters powerless and impious.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page128">128</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p31">§ 31.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of passion generally.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page129">129</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p32">§ 32.</a></td> + <td class="spac">It is never to be for itself exhibited—at least on the face.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page130">130</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c14p33">§ 33.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Recapitulation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page131">131</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter XV.</span>—General Conclusions respecting the Theoretic + Faculty.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">There are no sources of the emotion of beauty more than those found in things visible.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page133">133</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What imperfection exists in visible things. How in a sort by imagination removable.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page134">134</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Which however affects not our present conclusions.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page134">134</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The four sources from which the pleasure of beauty is derived are all divine.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page134">134</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What objections may be made to this conclusion.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page135">135</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Typical beauty may be ęsthetically pursued. Instances.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page135">135</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How interrupted by false feeling.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page136">136</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Greatness and truth are sometimes by the Deity sustained and spoken in and through evil men.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page137">137</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The second objection arising from the coldness of Christian men to external beauty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page138">138</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Reasons for this coldness in the anxieties of the world. These anxieties overwrought and criminal.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page139">139</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Evil consequences of such coldness.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page140">140</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s1c15p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Theoria the service of Heaven.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page140">140</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>SECTION II.</h3> + +<h5>OF THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY.</h5> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter I.</span>—Of the Three Forms of Imagination.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c1p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">A partial examination only of the imagination is to be attempted.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page142">142</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c1p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The works of the metaphysicians how nugatory with respect to this faculty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page143">143</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c1p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The definition of D. Stewart, how inadequate.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page143">143</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c1p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">This instance nugatory.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page144">144</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c1p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Various instances.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page145">145</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c1p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The three operations of the imagination. Penetrative, associative, contemplative.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page146">146</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter II.</span>—Of Imagination Associative.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of simple conception.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page147">147</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How connected with verbal knowledge.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page148">148</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How used in composition.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page148">148</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Characteristics of composition.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page149">149</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">What powers are implied by it. The first of the three functions of fancy.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page150">150</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination not yet manifested.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page150">150</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination is the correlative conception of imperfect component parts.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page151">151</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Material analogy with imagination.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page151">151</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The grasp and dignity of imagination.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page152">152</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Its limits.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page153">153</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How manifested in treatment of uncertain relations. Its deficiency illustrated.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page154">154</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Laws of art, the safeguard of the unimaginative.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page155">155</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p12">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Are by the imaginative painter despised. Tests of imagination.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page155">155</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p13">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The monotony of unimaginative treatment.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page156">156</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p14">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination never repeats itself.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page157">157</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p15">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Relation of the imaginative faculty to the theoretic.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page157">157</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p16">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Modification of its manifestation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page158">158</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p17">§ 18.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Instances of absence of imagination.—Claude, Gaspar Poussin.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page158">158</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p18">§ 19.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Its presence.—Salvator, Nicolo Poussin, Titian, Tintoret.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page159">159</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p20">§ 20.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And Turner.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page160">160</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p21">§ 21.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The due function of Associative imagination with respect to nature.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page161">161</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c2p22">§ 22.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The sign of imaginative work is its appearance of absolute truth.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page161">161</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter III.</span>—Of Imagination Penetrative.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination penetrative is concerned not with the combining but apprehending of things.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page163">163</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Milton's and Dante's description of flame.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page163">163</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The imagination seizes always by the innermost point.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page164">164</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">It acts intuitively and without reasoning.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page165">165</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Signs of it in language.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page165">165</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Absence of imagination, how shown.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page166">166</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Distinction between imagination and fancy.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page166">166</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Fancy how involved with imagination.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page168">168</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Fancy is never serious.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page169">169</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Want of seriousness the bar to high art at the present time.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page169">169</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination is quiet; fancy, restless.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page170">170</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The detailing operation of fancy.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page170">170</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And suggestive, of the imagination.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page171">171</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">This suggestiveness how opposed to vacancy.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page172">172</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination addresses itself to imagination.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page173">173</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p15a"> </a></td> + <td class="spac">Instances from the works of Tintoret.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page173">173</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p16">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The entombment.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page174">174</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p17">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The Annunciation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page174">174</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p18">§ 18.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The Baptism of Christ. Its treatment by various painters.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page176">176</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p19">§ 19.</a></td> + <td class="spac">By Tintoret.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page177">177</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p20">§ 20.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The Crucifixion.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page178">178</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p21">§ 21.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The Massacre of innocents.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page179">179</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p22">§ 22.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Various works in the Scuola di San Rocco.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page181">181</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p23">§ 23.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The Last Judgment. How treated by various painters.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page181">181</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p24">§ 24.</a></td> + <td class="spac">By Tintoret.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page182">182</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p25">§ 25.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The imaginative verity, how distinguished from realism.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page183">183</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p26">§ 26.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The imagination how manifested in sculpture.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page184">184</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p27">§ 27.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Bandinelli, Canova, Mino da Fiesole.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page184">184</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p28">§ 28.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Michael Angelo.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page185">185</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p29">§ 29.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Recapitulation. The perfect function of the imagination is the intuitive perception of ultimate truth.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page188">188</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p30">§ 30.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination how vulgarly understood.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page190">190</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p31">§ 31.</a></td> + <td class="spac">How its cultivation is dependent on the moral feelings.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page190">190</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p32">§ 32.</a></td> + <td class="spac">On independence of mind.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page191">191</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c3p33">§ 33.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And on habitual reference to nature.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page191">191</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter IV.</span>—Of Imagination Contemplative.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Imagination contemplative is not part of the essence, but only a habit or mode of the faculty.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page192">192</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The ambiguity of conception.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page192">192</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Is not in itself capable of adding to the charm of fair things.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page193">193</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">But gives to the imagination its regardant power over them.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page194">194</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The third office of fancy distinguished from imagination contemplative.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page195">195</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Various instances.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page197">197</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Morbid or nervous fancy.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page200">200</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The action of contemplative imagination is not to be expressed by art.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page201">201</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Except under narrow limits.—1st. Abstract rendering of form without color.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page201">201</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Of color without form.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page202">202</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Or of both without texture.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page202">202</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Abstraction or typical representation of animal form.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page203">203</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Either when it is symbolically used.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page204">204</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Or in architectural decoration.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page205">205</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Exception in delicate and superimposed ornament.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page206">206</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p16">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Abstraction necessary from imperfection of materials.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page206">206</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p17">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Abstractions of things capable of varied accident are not imaginative.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page207">207</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p18">§ 18.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Yet sometimes valuable.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page207">207</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p19">§ 19.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Exaggeration. Its laws and limits. First, in scale of representation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page208">208</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p20">§ 20.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Secondly, of things capable of variety of scale.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page209">209</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p21">§ 21.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Thirdly, necessary in expression of characteristic features on diminished scale.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page210">210</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c4p22">§ 22.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Recapitulation.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page211">211</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="chapter"><span class="sc">Chapter V.</span>—Of the Superhuman Ideal.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p1">§ 1.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The subject is not to be here treated in detail.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page212">212</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p2">§ 2.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The conceivable modes of manifestation of Spiritual Beings are four.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page212">212</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p3">§ 3.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And these are in or through creature forms familiar to us.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page213">213</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p4">§ 4.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Supernatural character may be impressed on these either by phenomena inconsistent with their common nature (compare <a href="#s2c4p16">Chap. iv. § 16</a>).</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page213">213</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p5">§ 5.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Or by inherent Dignity.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page213">213</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p6">§ 6.</a></td> + <td class="spac">1st. Of the expression of inspiration.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page214">214</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p7">§ 7.</a></td> + <td class="spac">No representation of that which is more than creature is possible.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page215">215</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p8">§ 8.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Supernatural character expressed by modification of accessories.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page216">216</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p9">§ 9.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Landscape of the religious painters. Its character is eminently symmetrical.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page217">217</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p10">§ 10.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Landscape of Benozzo Gozzoli.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page217">217</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p11">§ 11.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Landscape of Perugino and Raffaelle.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page218">218</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p12">§ 12.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Such Landscape is not to be imitated.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page218">218</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p13">§ 13.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Color, and Decoration. Their use in representations of the Supernatural.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page219">219</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p14">§ 14.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Decoration so used must be generic.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page220">220</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p15">§ 15.</a></td> + <td class="spac">And color pure.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page220">220</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p16">§ 16.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Ideal form of the body itself, of what variety susceptible.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page221">221</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p17">§ 17.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Anatomical development how far admissible.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page221">221</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p18">§ 18.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Symmetry. How valuable.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page221">221</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p19">§ 19.</a></td> + <td class="spac">The influence of Greek art, how dangerous.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page222">222</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p20">§ 20.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Its scope, how limited.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page223">223</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="nspac"><a href="#s2c5p21">§ 21.</a></td> + <td class="spac">Conclusion.</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page224">224</a></td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="short" /> + +<table class="nobctr" width="100%" summary="Contents"> +<tr> <td class="spac">ADDENDA.</td> + <td class="rsp" style="padding-right: 5%; "><a href="#page225">225</a></td> </tr> +</table> + + +<hr class="art" /> +<h2>LIST OF PLATES TO VOLUME II.</h2> + +<table class="nobctr" width="80%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr> <td> </td> + <td class="rsp"><i>Page.</i></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="spac">Court of the Ducal Palace, Venice</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page010">10</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="2">From a drawing by Ruskin.</td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="spac">Tomb of the Ilaria di Caretto, Lucca</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page072">72</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="2">From a photograph.</td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="spac">The Adoration of the Magi</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page158">158</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="2">From a painting by Ruskin, after Tintoret.</td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="spac">Study of Stone Pine, at Sestri</td> + <td class="rsp"><a href="#page199">199</a></td> </tr> +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="2">From a drawing by Ruskin.</td> </tr> +</table> +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page001"></a>[Page 1]</span></p> + +<h2>PART III.</h2> + +<h2>OF IDEAS OF BEAUTY.</h2> +<hr class="art" /> + +<h3>SECTION I.</h3> + +<h4>OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY.</h4> +<hr class="art" /> + + +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<h5>OF THE RANK AND RELATIONS OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY.</h5> + +<p>Although the hasty execution and controversial tone of the former +portions of this essay have been subjects of frequent regret to the +writer, yet the one was in some measure excusable <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p1"></a>§ 1. With what care +the subject is to be approached.</span>in a work referred to a temporary end, +and the other unavoidable, in one directed against particular opinions. +Nor are either of any necessary detriment to its availableness as a +foundation for more careful and extended survey, in so far as its +province was confined to the assertion of obvious and visible facts, the +verification of which could in no degree be dependent either on the care +with which they might be classed, or the temper in which they were +regarded. Not so with respect to the investigation now before us, which, +being not of things outward, and sensibly demonstrable, but of the value +and meaning of mental impressions, must be entered upon with a modesty +and cautiousness proportioned to the difficulty of determining the +likeness, or community of such impressions, as they are received by +different men, and with seriousness proportioned to the importance of +rightly regarding those faculties over which we have moral power, and +therefore <span class="pagenum"><a name="page002"></a>[Page 2]</span> in relation to which we assuredly incur a moral +responsibility. There is not the thing left to the choice of man to do +or not to do, but there is some sort of degree of duty involved in his +determination; and by how much the more, therefore, our subject becomes +embarrassed by the cross influences of variously admitted passion, +administered discipline, or encouraged affection, upon the minds of men, +by so much the more it becomes matter of weight and import to observe by +what laws we should be guided, and of what responsibilities regardful, +in all that we admit, administer, or encourage.</p> + +<p>Nor indeed have I ever, even in the preceding sections, spoken with +levity, though sometimes perhaps with rashness. I have never treated +the subject as other than demanding heedful <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p2">§ 2. And of what importance +considered.</a></span>and serious examination, and taking high place among those +which justify as they reward our utmost ardor and earnestness of +pursuit. That it justifies them must be my present task to prove; that +it demands them has never been doubted. Art, properly so called, is no +recreation; it cannot be learned at spare moments, nor pursued when we +have nothing better to do. It is no handiwork for drawing-room tables; +no relief of the ennui of boudoirs; it must be understood and undertaken +seriously or not at all. To advance it men's lives must be given, and to +receive it their hearts. "Le peintre Rubens s'amuse ą źtre ambassadeur," +said one with whom, but for his own words, we might have thought that +effort had been absorbed in power, and the labor of his art in its +felicity.—"E faticoso lo studio della pittura, et sempre si fa il mare +maggiore," said he, who of all men was least likely to have left us +discouraging report of anything that majesty of intellect could grasp, +or continuity of labor overcome.<a name="FnAnchor_1" href="#Footnote_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> But that this labor, the necessity +of which in all ages has been most frankly admitted by the greatest men, +is justifiable in a moral point of view, that it is not the pouring out +of men's lives upon the ground, that it has functions of usefulness +addressed to the weightiest of human interests, and that the objects of +it have calls upon us which it is inconsistent alike with our human +dignity and our heavenward duty to disobey—has <span class="pagenum"><a name="page003"></a>[Page 3]</span> never been +boldly asserted nor fairly admitted; least of all is it likely to be so +in these days of dispatch and display, where vanity, on the one side, +supplies the place of that love of art which is the only effective +patronage, and on the other, of the incorruptible and earnest pride +which no applause, no reprobation, can blind to its shortcomings nor +beguile of its hope.</p> + +<p>And yet it is in the expectation of obtaining at least a partial +acknowledgment of this, as a truth influential both of aim and conduct, +that I enter upon the second division of my subject. The time I have +already devoted to the task I should have considered altogether +inordinate, and that which I fear may be yet required for its completion +would have been cause to me of utter discouragement, but that the object +I propose to myself is of no partial nor accidental importance. It is +not now to distinguish between disputed degrees of ability in +individuals, or agreeableness in canvases, it is not now to expose the +ignorance or defend the principles of party or person. It is to summon +the moral energies of the nation to a forgotten duty, to display the +use, force, and function of a great body of neglected sympathies and +desires, and to elevate to its healthy and beneficial operation that art +which, being altogether addressed to them, rises or falls with their +variableness of vigor,—now leading them with Tyrtęan fire, now singing +them to sleep with baby murmurings.</p> + +<p>Only as I fear that with many of us the recommendation of our own +favorite pursuits is rooted more in conceit of ourselves, than affection +towards others, so that sometimes in our very <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p3">§ 3. The doubtful force of +the term "utility."</a></span>pointing of the way, we had rather that the intricacy +of it should be admired than unfolded, whence a natural distrust of such +recommendation may well have place in the minds of those who have not +yet perceived any value in the thing praised, and because also, men in +the present century understand the word Useful in a strange way, or at +least (for the word has been often so accepted from the beginning of +time) since in these days, they act its more limited meaning farther +out, and give to it more practical weight and authority, it will be well +in the outset that I define exactly what kind of utility I mean to +attribute to art, and especially to that branch of it which is concerned +with those <span class="pagenum"><a name="page004"></a>[Page 4]</span> impressions of external beauty whose nature it is +our present object to discover.</p> + +<p>That is to everything created, pre-eminently useful, which enables it +rightly and fully to perform the functions appointed to it by its +Creator. Therefore, that we may determine what <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p4">§ 4. Its proper sense.</a></span>is +chiefly useful to man, it is necessary first to determine the use of man +himself.</p> + +<p>Man's use and function (and let him who will not grant me this follow me +no farther, for this I purpose always to assume) is to be the witness of +the glory of God, and to advance that glory by his reasonable obedience +and resultant happiness.</p> + +<p>Whatever enables us to fulfil this function, is in the pure and first +sense of the word useful to us. Pre-eminently therefore whatever sets +the glory of God more brightly before us. But things that only help us +to exist, are in a secondary and mean sense, useful, or rather, if they +be looked for alone, they are useless and worse, for it would be better +that we should not exist, than that we should guiltily disappoint the +purposes of existence.</p> + +<p>And yet people speak in this working age, when they speak from their +hearts, as if houses, and lands, and food, and raiment were alone +useful, and as if sight, thought, and admiration,<a name="FnAnchor_2" href="#Footnote_2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p5">§ 5. How falsely +applied in these times.</a></span>were all profitless, so that men insolently call +themselves Utilitarians, who would turn, if they had their way, +themselves and their race into vegetables; men who think, as far as such +can be said to think, that the meat is more than the life, and the +raiment than the body, who look to the earth as a stable, and to its +fruit as fodder; vinedressers and husbandmen, who love the corn they +grind, and the grapes they crush, better than the gardens of the angels +upon the slopes of Eden; hewers of wood and drawers of water, who think +that the wood they hew and the water they draw, are better than the +pine-forests that cover the mountains like the shadow of God, and than +the great rivers that move like his eternity. And so comes upon us that +woe of the preacher, that though God "hath made everything beautiful in +his time, also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no <span class="pagenum"><a name="page005"></a>[Page 5]</span> +man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the +end."</p> + +<p>This Nebuchadnezzar curse, that sends us to grass like oxen, seems to +follow but too closely on the excess or continuance of national power +and peace. In the perplexities of nations, in <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p6">§ 6. The evil consequences +of such interpretation. How connected with national power.</a></span>their +struggles for existence, in their infancy, their impotence, or even +their disorganization, they have higher hopes and nobler passions. Out +of the suffering comes the serious mind; out of the salvation, the +grateful heart; out of the endurance, the fortitude; out of the +deliverance, the faith; but now when they have learned to live under +providence of laws, and with decency and justice of regard for each +other; and when they have done away with violent and external sources of +suffering, worse evils seem arising out of their rest, evils that vex +less and mortify more, that suck the blood though they do not shed it, +and ossify the heart though they do not torture it. And deep though the +causes of thankfulness must be to every people at peace with others and +at unity in itself, there are causes of fear also, a fear greater than +of sword and sedition; that dependence on God may be forgotten because +the bread is given and the water is sure, that gratitude to him may +cease because his constancy of protection has taken the semblance of a +natural law, that heavenly hope may grow faint amidst the full fruition +of the world, that selfishness may take place of undemanded devotion, +compassion be lost in vain-glory, and love in dissimulation,<a +name="FnAnchor_3" href="#Footnote_3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> that enervation may succeed to +strength, apathy to patience, and the noise of jesting words and +foulness of dark thoughts, to the earnest purity of the girded loins and +the burning lamp. About the river of human life there is a wintry wind, +though a heavenly sunshine; the iris colors its agitation, the frost +fixes upon its repose. Let us beware that our rest become not the rest +of stones, which so long as they are torrent-tossed, and +thunder-stricken, maintain their majesty, but when the stream is silent, +and the storm passed, suffer the grass to cover them and the lichen to +feed on them, and are ploughed down into dust.</p> + +<p>And though I believe that we have salt enough of ardent <span class="pagenum"><a name="page006"></a>[Page 6]</span> and +holy mind amongst us to keep us in some measure from this moral decay, +yet the signs of it must be watched with <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p7">§ 7. How to be averted.</a></span>anxiety, +in all matter however trivial, in all directions however distant. And at +this time, when the iron roads are tearing up the surface of Europe, as +grapeshot do the sea, when their great sagene is drawing and twitching +the ancient frame and strength of England together, contracting all its +various life, its rocky arms and rural heart, into a narrow, finite, +calculating metropolis of manufactures, when there is not a monument +throughout the cities of Europe, that speaks of old years and mighty +people, but it is being swept away to build cafés and gaming-houses;<a +name="FnAnchor_4" href="#Footnote_4"><sup>[4]</sup></a> when the honor of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page007"></a>[Page 7]</span> God +is thought to consist in the poverty of his temple, and the column is +shortened, and the pinnacle shattered, the color denied to the casement, +and the marble to the altar, while exchequers are exhausted in luxury of +boudoirs, and pride of reception-rooms; when we ravage without a pause +all the loveliness of creation which God in giving pronounced good, and +destroy without a thought all those labors which men have given their +lives, and their sons' sons' lives to complete, and have left for a +legacy to all their kind, a legacy of more than their hearts' blood, for +it is of their souls' travail, there is need, bitter need, to bring +back, if we may, into men's minds, that to live is nothing, unless to +live be to know Him by whom we live, and that he is not to be known by +marring his fair works, and blotting out the evidence of his influences +upon his creatures, not amid the hurry of crowds and crash of +innovation, but in solitary places, and out of the glowing intelligences +which he gave to men of old. He did not teach them how to build for +glory and for <span class="pagenum"><a name="page008"></a>[Page 8]</span> beauty, he did not give them the fearless, +faithful, inherited energies that worked on and down from death to +death, generation after generation, that we, foul and sensual as we are, +might give the carved work of their poured-out spirit to the axe and the +hammer; he has not cloven the earth with rivers, that their white wild +waves might turn wheels and push paddles, nor turned it up under as it +were fire, that it might heat wells and cure diseases; he brings not up +his quails by the east wind, only to let them fall in flesh about the +camp of men: he has not heaped the rocks of the mountain only for the +quarry, nor clothed the grass of the field only for the oven.</p> + +<p>All science and all art may be divided into that which is <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p8">§ 8. Division +of the pursuits of men into subservient and objective.</a></span>subservient to +life, and which is the object of it. As subservient to life, or +practical, their results are, in the common sense of the word, useful. +As the object of life or theoretic, they are, in the common sense, +useless; and yet the step between practical and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page009"></a>[Page 9]</span> theoretic +science is the step between the miner and the geologist, the apothecary +and the chemist; and the step between practical and theoretic art is +that between the bricklayer and the architect, between the plumber and +the artist, and this is a step allowed on all hands to be from less to +greater; so that the so-called useless part of each profession does by +the authoritative and right instinct of mankind assume the superior and +more noble place, even though books be sometimes written, and that by +writers of no ordinary mind, which assume that a chemist is rewarded for +the years of toil which have traced the greater part of the combinations +of matter to their ultimate atoms, by discovering a cheap way of +refining sugar, and date the eminence of the philosopher, whose life has +been spent in the investigation of the laws of light, from the time of +his inventing an improvement in spectacles.</p> + +<p>But the common consent of men proves and accepts the proposition, that +whatever part of any pursuit ministers to the bodily comforts, and +admits of material uses, is ignoble, and whatsoever part is addressed to +the mind only, is noble; and that geology does better in reclothing dry +bones and revealing lost creations, than in tracing veins of lead and +beds of iron; astronomy better in opening to us the houses of heaven +than in teaching navigation; botany better in displaying structure than +in expressing juices; surgery better in investigating organization than +in setting limbs; only it is ordained that, for our encouragement, every +step we make in the more exalted range of science adds something also to +its practical applicabilities; that all the great phenomena of nature, +the knowledge of which is desired by the angels only, by us partly, as +it reveals to farther vision the being and the glory of Him in whom they +rejoice and we live, dispense yet such kind influences and so much of +material blessing as to be joyfully felt by all inferior creatures, and +to be desired by them with such single desire as the imperfection of +their nature may admit;<a name="FnAnchor_5" href="#Footnote_5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> that the strong torrents which, in their own +gladness fill the hills with hollow thunder and the vales with winding +light, have yet their bounden charge of field to feed and barge to bear; +that the fierce flames to <span class="pagenum"><a name="page010"></a>[Page 10]</span> which the Alp owes its upheaval and +the volcano its terror, temper for us the metal vein and quickening +spring; and that for our incitement, I say not our reward, for knowledge +is its own reward, herbs have their healing, stones their preciousness, +and stars their times.</p> + +<p>It would appear, therefore, that those pursuits which are altogether +theoretic, whose results are desirable or admirable in themselves and +for their own sake, and in which no farther end <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p9">§ 9. Their relative +dignities.</a></span>to which their productions or discoveries are referred, can +interrupt the contemplation of things as they are, by the endeavor to +discover of what selfish uses they are capable (and of this order are +painting and sculpture), ought to take rank above all pursuits which +have any taint in them of subserviency to life, in so far as all such +tendency is the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p10">§ 10. How reversed through erring notions of the +contemplative and imaginative faculties.</a></span>sign of less eternal and less +holy function.<a name="FnAnchor_6" href="#Footnote_6"><sup>[6]</sup></a> And such rank these two sublime arts would indeed +assume in the minds of nations, and become objects of corresponding +efforts, but for two fatal and widespread errors respecting the great +faculties of mind concerned in them.</p> + +<p>The first of these, or the theoretic faculty, is concerned with the +moral perception and appreciation of ideas of beauty. And the error +respecting it is the considering and calling it ęsthetic, degrading it +to a mere operation of sense, or perhaps worse, of custom, so that the +arts which appeal to it sink into a mere amusement, ministers to morbid +sensibilities, ticklers and fanners of the soul's sleep.</p> + +<p>The second great faculty is the imaginative, which the mind exercises in +a certain mode of regarding or combining the ideas <span class="pagenum"><a name="page011"></a>[Page 11]</span> it has +received from external nature, and the operations of which become in +their turn objects of the theoretic faculty to other minds.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" summary="Illustration."> +<tr> + <td><span class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img11.jpg" width="650" height="459" alt="COURT OF THE DUCAL PALACE, VENICE." title="COURT OF THE DUCAL PALACE, VENICE." /></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="caption">COURT OF THE DUCAL PALACE, VENICE. <br />From a drawing by Ruskin.</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>And the error respecting this faculty is, that its function is one of +falsehood, that its operation is to exhibit things as they are <i>not</i>, +and that in so doing it mends the works of God.</p> + +<p>Now, as these are the two faculties to which I shall have occasion +constantly to refer during that examination of the ideas of beauty and +relation on which we are now entering, <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c1p11">§ 11. Object of the present +section.</a></span>because it is only as received and treated by these, that those +ideas become exalted and profitable, it becomes necessary for me, in the +outset, to explain their power and define their sphere, and to +vindicate, in the system of our nature, their true place for the +intellectual lens and moral retina by which and on which our informing +thoughts are concentrated and represented.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1" href="#FnAnchor_1">[1]</a> Tintoret. (Ridolfi. Vita.)</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2" href="#FnAnchor_2">[2]</a> We live by admiration, hope, and love. (Excursion, Book IV.)</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_3" href="#FnAnchor_3">[3]</a> Rom. xii. 9.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_4" href="#FnAnchor_4">[4]</a> The extent of ravage among works of art, or of historical interest, +continually committing throughout the continent may, perhaps, be in some +measure estimated from the following facts, to which the experience of +every traveller may add indefinitely:</p> + +<p>At Beauvois—The magnificent old houses supported on columns of +workmanship (so far as I recollect) unique in the north of France, at +the corner of the market-place, have recently been destroyed for the +enlarging of some ironmongery and grocery warehouses. The arch across +the street leading to the cathedral has been destroyed also, for what +purpose, I know not.</p> + +<p>At Rouen—The last of the characteristic houses on the quay is now +disappearing. When I was last there, I witnessed the destruction of the +noble gothic portal of the church of St. Nicholas, whose position +interfered with the courtyard of an hotel; the greater part of the +ancient churches are used as smithies, or warehouses for goods. So also +at Tours (St. Julien). One of the most interesting and superb pieces of +middle-age domestic architecture in Europe, opposite the west front of +the cathedral, is occupied as a café, and its lower story concealed by +painted wainscotings; representing, if I recollect right, twopenny rolls +surrounded by circles of admiring cherubs.</p> + +<p>At Geneva—The wooden projections or loggias which were once the +characteristic feature of the city, have been entirely removed within +the last ten years.</p> + +<p>At Pisa—The old Baptistery is at this present time in process of being +"restored," that is, dashed to pieces, and common stone painted black +and varnished, substituted for its black marble. In the Campo Santo, the +invaluable frescoes, which might be protected by merely glazing the +arcades, are left exposed to wind and weather. While I was there last +year I saw a monument put up against the lower part of the wall, to some +private person; the bricklayers knocked out a large space of the lower +brickwork, with what beneficial effect to the loose and blistered stucco +on which the frescoes are painted above, I leave the reader to imagine; +inserted the tablet, and then plastered over the marks of the insertion, +destroying a portion of the border of one of the paintings. The greater +part of Giotto's "Satan before God," has been destroyed by the recent +insertion of one of the beams of the roof.</p> + +<p>The tomb of Antonio Puccinello, which was the last actually put up +against the frescoes, and which destroyed the terminal subject of the +Giotto series, bears date 1808.</p> + +<p>It has been proposed (or at least it is so reported) that the church of +La Spina should be destroyed in order to widen the quay.</p> + +<p>At Florence—One of its most important and characteristic streets, that +in which stands the church of Or San Michele, has been within the last +five years entirely destroyed and rebuilt in the French style; +consisting now almost exclusively of shops of bijouterie and parfumerie. +Owing to this direction of public funds, the fronts of the Duomo, Santa +Croce, St. Lorenzo, and half the others in Florence remain in their +original bricks.</p> + +<p>The old refectory of Santa Croce, containing an invaluable Cenacolo, if +not by Giotto, at least one of the finest works of his school, is used +as a carpet manufactory. In order to see the fresco, I had to get on the +top of a loom. The <i>cenacolo</i> (of Raffaelle?) recently discovered, I saw +when the refectory it adorns was used as a coach-house. The fresco, +which gave Raffaelle the idea of the Christ of the Transfiguration, is +in an old wood shed at San Miniato, concealed behind a heap of faggots. +In June, last year, I saw Gentile da Fabriano's picture of the Adoration +of the Magi, belonging to the Academy of Florence, put face upmost in a +shower of rain in an open cart; on my suggesting the possibility of the +rain hurting it, an old piece of matting was thrown over its face, and +it was wheeled away "per essere pulita." What fate this signified, is +best to be discovered from the large Perugino in the Academy; whose +divine distant landscape is now almost concealed by the mass of French +ultramarine, painted over it apparently with a common house brush, by +the picture cleaner.</p> + +<p>Not to detain the reader by going through the cities of Italy, I will +only further mention, that at Padua, the rain beats through the west +window of the Arena chapel, and runs down <i>over</i> the frescoes. That at +Venice, in September last, I saw three buckets set in the scuola di San +Rocco to catch the rain which came <i>through</i> the <i>canvases</i> of Tintoret +on the roof; and that while the old works of art are left thus +unprotected, the palaces are being restored in the following modes. The +English residents knock out bow windows to see up and down the canal. +The Italians paint all the <i>marble</i> white or cream color, stucco the +fronts, and paint them in blue and white stripes to imitate alabaster. +(This has been done with Danieli's hotel, with the north angle of the +church of St. Mark, there replacing the real alabasters which have been +torn down, with a noble old house in St. Mark's place, and with several +in the narrow canals.) The marbles of St. Mark's, and carvings, are +being <i>scraped</i> down to make them look bright—the lower arcade of the +Doge's palace is whitewashed—the entrance porch is being restored—the +operation having already proceeded so far as the knocking off of the +heads of the old statues—an iron railing painted black and yellow has +been put round the court. Faded tapestries, and lottery tickets (the +latter for the benefit of charitable institutions) are exposed for sale +in the council chambers.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_5" href="#FnAnchor_5">[5]</a> Hooker, Eccl. Pol. Book I. chap. ii. § 2.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_6" href="#FnAnchor_6">[6]</a> I do not assert that the accidental utility of a theoretic pursuit, +as of botany for instance, in any way degrades it, though it cannot be +considered as elevating it. But essential utility, a purpose to which +the pursuit is in some measure referred, as in architecture, invariably +degrades, because then the theoretic part of the art is comparatively +lost sight of; and thus architecture takes a level below that of +sculpture or painting, even when the powers of mind developed in it are +of the same high order.</p> + +<p>When we pronounce the name of Giotto, our venerant thoughts are at +Assisi and Padua, before they climb the Campanile of Santa Maria del +Fiore. And he who would raise the ghost of Michael Angelo, must haunt +the Sistine and St. Lorenzo, not St. Peter's.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page012"></a>[Page 12]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<h5>OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY AS CONCERNED WITH PLEASURES OF SENSE.</h5> + +<p>I proceed therefore first, to examine the nature of what I <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p1">§ 1. +Explanation of the term "theoretic."</a></span>have called the Theoretic faculty, +and to justify my substitution of the term "theoretic" for ęsthetic, +which is the one commonly employed with reference to it.</p> + +<p>Now the term "ęsthesis" properly signifies mere sensual perception of +the outward qualities and necessary effects of bodies, in which sense +only, if we would arrive at any accurate conclusions on this difficult +subject, it should always be used. But I wholly deny that the +impressions of beauty are in any way sensual,—they are neither sensual +nor intellectual, but moral, and for the faculty receiving them, whose +difference from mere perception I shall immediately endeavor to explain, +no term can be more accurate or convenient than that employed by the +Greeks, "theoretic," which I pray permission, therefore, always to use, +and to call the operation of the faculty itself, Theoria.</p> + +<p>Let us begin at the lowest point, and observe, first, what <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p2">§ 2. Of the +differences of rank in pleasures of sense.</a></span>differences of dignity may +exist between different kinds of ęsthetic or sensual pleasure, properly +so called.</p> + +<p>Now it is evident that the being common to brutes, or peculiar to man, +can alone be no rational test of inferiority, or dignity in pleasures. +We must not assume that man is the nobler animal, and then deduce the +nobleness of his delights; but we must prove the nobleness of the +delights, and thence the nobleness of the animal. The dignity of +affection is no way lessened because a large measure of it may be found +in lower animals, neither is the vileness of gluttony and lust abated +because they are common to men. It is clear, therefore, that there is a +standard <span class="pagenum"><a name="page013"></a>[Page 13]</span> of dignity in the pleasures and passions themselves, +by which we also class the creatures capable of, or suffering them.</p> + +<p>The first great distinction, we observe, is that noted of Aristotle, +that men are called temperate and intemperate with regard to some, and +not so with respect to others, <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p3">§ 3. Use of the terms Temperate and +Intemperate.</a></span>and that those, with respect to which they are so called, +are, by common consent, held to be the vilest. But Aristotle, though +exquisitely subtle in his notation of facts, does not frequently give us +satisfactory account of, or reason for them. Content with stating the +fact of these pleasures being held the lowest, he shows not why this +estimation of them is just, and confuses the reader by observing +casually respecting the higher pleasures, what is indeed true, but +appears at first opposed to his own position, namely, that "men may be +conceived, as also in these taking pleasure, either rightly, or more or +less than is right."<a name="FnAnchor_7" href="#Footnote_7"><sup>[7]</sup></a> Which being so, and evident capability of excess +or defect existing in pleasures of this higher order, we ought to have +been told how it happens that men are not called intemperate when they +indulge in excess of this kind, and what is that difference in the +nature of the pleasure which diminishes the criminality of its excess. +This let us attempt to ascertain.</p> + +<p>Men are held intemperate (<span class="grk" title="akolastoi">ἀκόλαστοι</span>) only when their desires +overcome or prevent the action of their reason, and they are indeed +intemperate in the exact degree in which such prevention <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p4">§ 4. Right use +of the term "intemperate."</a></span>or interference takes place, and so are +actually <span class="grk" title="akolastoi">ακόλαστοι</span>, in many instances, and with respect to many +resolves, which lower not the world's estimation of their temperance. +For so long as it can be supposed that the reason has acted imperfectly +owing to its own imperfection, or to the imperfection of the premises +submitted to it, (as when men give an inordinate preference to their own +pursuits, because they cannot, in the nature of things, have +sufficiently experienced the goodness and benefit of others,) and so +long as it may be presumed that men have referred to reason in what they +do, and have not suffered its orders to be disobeyed through mere +impulse and desire, (though those orders may be full of error owing to +the reason's own feebleness,) so long men <span class="pagenum"><a name="page014"></a>[Page 14]</span> are not held +intemperate. But when it is palpably evident that the reason cannot have +erred but that its voice has been deadened or disobeyed, and that the +reasonable creature has been dragged dead round the walls of his own +citadel by mere passion and impulse,—then, and then only, men are of +all held intemperate. And this is evidently the case with respect to +inordinate indulgence in pleasures of touch and taste, for these, being +destructive in their continuance not only of all other pleasures, but of +the very sensibilities by which they themselves are received, and as +this penalty is actually known and experienced by those indulging in +them, so that the reason cannot but pronounce right respecting their +perilousness, there is no palliation of the wrong choice; and the man, +as utterly incapable of will,<a name="FnAnchor_8" href="#Footnote_8"><sup>[8]</sup></a> is called intemperate, or +<span class="grk" title="akolastos">ἀκόλαστος</span>.</p> + +<p>It would be well if the reader would for himself follow out this +subject, which it would be irrelevant here to pursue farther, observing +how a certain degree of intemperance is suspected and attributed to men +with respect to higher impulses; as, for instance, in the case of anger, +or any other passion criminally indulged, and yet is not so attributed, +as in the case of sensual pleasures; because in anger the reason is +supposed not to have had time to operate, and to be itself affected by +the presence of the passion, which seizes the man involuntarily and +before he is aware; whereas, in the case of the sensual pleasures, the +act is deliberate, and determined on beforehand, in direct defiance of +reason. Nevertheless, if no precaution be taken against immoderate +anger, and the passions gain upon the man, so as to be evidently wilful +and unrestrained, and admitted contrary to all reason, we begin to look +upon him as, in the real sense of the word, intemperate, or <span class="grk" title="akolastos">άκόλαστος</span>, +and assign to him, in consequence, his place among the +beasts, as definitely as if he had yielded to the pleasurable +temptations of touch or taste.</p> + +<p>We see, then, that the primal ground of inferiority in these pleasures +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p5">§ 5. Grounds of inferiority in the pleasures which are subjects of +intemperance.</a></span>is that which <i>proves</i> their indulgence to be contrary to +reason; namely their destructiveness upon prolongation, and their +incapability of co-existing continually with other delights or +perfections of the system.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page015"></a>[Page 15]</span></p> + +<p>And this incapability of continuance directs us to the second cause of +their inferiority; namely, that they are given to us as subservient to +life, as instruments of our preservation—compelling us to seek the +things necessary to our being, and that, therefore, when this their +function is fully performed, they ought to have an end; and can be only +artificially, and under high penalty, prolonged. But the pleasures of +sight and hearing are given as gifts. They answer not any purposes of +mere existence, for the distinction of all that is useful or dangerous +to us might be made, and often is made, by the eye, without its +receiving the slightest pleasure of sight. We might have learned to +distinguish fruits and grain from flowers, without having any superior +pleasure in the aspect of the latter. And the ear might have learned to +distinguish the sounds that communicate ideas, or to recognize +intimations of elemental danger without perceiving either music in the +voice, or majesty in the thunder. And as these pleasures have no +function to perform, so there is no limit to their continuance in the +accomplishment of their end, for they are an end in themselves, and so +may be perpetual with all of us—being in no way destructive, but +rather increasing in exquisiteness by repetition.</p> + +<p>Herein, then, we find very sufficient ground for the higher estimation +of these delights, first, in their being eternal and inexhaustible, and +secondly, in their being evidently no <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p6">§ 6. Evidence of higher rank in +pleasures of sight and hearing.</a></span>means or instrument of life, but an +object of life. Now in whatever is an object of life, in whatever may be +infinitely and for itself desired, we may be sure there is something of +divine, for God will not make anything an object of life to his +creatures which does not point to, or partake of, Himself. And so, +though we were to regard the pleasures of sight merely as the highest of +sensual pleasures, and though they were of rare occurrence, and, when +occurring, isolated and imperfect, there would still be a supernatural +character about them, owing to their permanence and self-sufficiency, +where no other sensual pleasures are permanent or self-sufficient. But +when, instead of being scattered, interrupted, or chance-distributed, +they are gathered together, and so arranged to enhance each other as by +chance they could not be, there is caused by them not only a feeling of +strong affection <span class="pagenum"><a name="page016"></a>[Page 16]</span> towards the object in which they exist, but a +perception of purpose and adaptation of it to our desires; a perception, +therefore, of the immediate operation of the Intelligence which so +formed us, and so feeds us.</p> + +<p>Out of which perception arise joy, admiration, and gratitude.</p> + +<p>Now the mere animal consciousness of the pleasantness I call ęsthesis; +but the exulting, reverent, and grateful perception of it I call +theoria. For this, and this only, is the full comprehension and +contemplation of the beautiful as a gift of God, a gift not necessary to +our being, but added to, and elevating it, and twofold, first of the +desire, and secondly of the thing desired.</p> + +<p>And that this joyfulness and reverence are a necessary part of theoretic +pleasure is very evident when we consider that, by the presence of these +feelings, even the lower and more sensual <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p7">§ 7. How the lower pleasures +may be elevated in rank.</a></span>pleasures may be rendered theoretic. Thus +Aristotle has subtly noted, that "we call not men intemperate so much +with respect to the scents of roses or herb-perfumes as of ointments and +of condiments," (though the reason that he gives for this be futile +enough.) For the fact is, that of scents artificially prepared the +extreme desire is intemperance, but of natural and God-given scents, +which take their part in the harmony and pleasantness of creation, there +can hardly be intemperance; not that there is any absolute difference +between the two kinds, but that these are likely to be received with +gratitude and joyfulness rather than those, so that we despise the +seeking of essences and unguents, but not the sowing of violets along +our garden banks. But all things may be elevated by affection, as the +spikenard of Mary, and in the Song of Solomon, the myrrh upon the +handles of the lock, and that of Isaac concerning his son. And the +general law for all these pleasures is, that when sought in the abstract +and ardently, they are foul things, but when received with thankfulness +and with reference to God's glory, they become theoretic; and so I can +find something divine in the sweetness of wild fruits, as well as in the +pleasantness of the pure air, and the tenderness of its natural perfumes +that come and go as they list.</p> + +<p>It will be understood why I formerly said in the chapter respecting +ideas of beauty, that those ideas were the subject of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page017"></a>[Page 17]</span> moral +and not of intellectual, nor altogether of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p8">§ 8. Ideas of beauty how +essentially moral.</a></span>sensual perception; and why I spoke of the pleasures +connected with them as derived from "those material sources which are +agreeable to our moral nature in its purity and perfection." For, as it +is necessary to the existence of an idea of beauty, that the sensual +pleasure which may be its basis, should be accompanied first with joy, +then with love of the object, then with the perception of kindness in a +superior Intelligence, finally with thankfulness and veneration towards +that Intelligence itself, and as no idea can be at all considered as in +any way an idea of beauty, until it be made up of these emotions, any +more than we can be said to have an idea of a letter of which we +perceive the perfume and the fair writing, without understanding the +contents of it, or intent of it; and as these emotions are in no way +resultant from, nor obtainable by, any operation of the intellect, it is +evident that the sensation of beauty is not sensual on the one hand, nor +is it intellectual on the other, but is dependent on a pure, right, and +open state of the heart, both for its truth and for its intensity, +insomuch that even the right after action of the intellect upon facts of +beauty so apprehended, is dependent on the acuteness of the heart +feeling about them; and thus the Apostolic words come true, in this +minor respect as in all others, that men are alienated from the life of +God, through the ignorance that is in them, having the understanding +darkened because of the hardness of their hearts, and so being past +feeling, give themselves up to lasciviousness; for we do indeed see +constantly that men having naturally acute perceptions of the beautiful, +yet not receiving it with a pure heart, nor into their hearts at all, +never comprehend it, nor receive good from it, but make it a mere +minister to their desires, and accompaniment and seasoning of lower +sensual pleasures, until all their emotions take the same earthly stamp, +and the sense of beauty sinks into the servant of lust.</p> + +<p>Nor is what the world commonly understands by the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p9">§ 9. How degraded by +heartless reception.</a></span>cultivation of taste, anything more or better than +this, at least in times of corrupt and over-pampered civilization, when +men build palaces and plant groves and gather luxuries, that they and +their devices may hang <span class="pagenum"><a name="page018"></a>[Page 18]</span> in the corners of the world like +fine-spun cobwebs, with greedy, puffed-up, spider-like lusts in the +middle. And this, which in Christian times is the abuse and corruption +of the sense of beauty, was in that Pagan life of which St. Paul speaks, +little less than the essence of it, and the best they had; for I know +not that of the expressions of affection towards external nature to be +found among Heathen writers, there are any of which the balance and +leading thought cleaves not towards the sensual parts of her. Her +beneficence they sought, and her power they shunned, her teaching +through both, they understood never. The pleasant influences of soft +winds and ringing streamlets, and shady coverts; of the violet couch, +and plane-tree shade,<a name="FnAnchor_9" href="#Footnote_9"><sup>[9]</sup></a> they received, perhaps, in a more noble way +than we, but they found not anything except fear, upon the bare +mountain, or in the ghostly glen. The Hybla heather they loved <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c2p10">§ 10. How +exalted by affection.</a></span>more for its sweet hives than its purple hues. But +the Christian theoria seeks not, though it accepts, and touches with its +own purity, what the Epicurean sought, but finds its food and the +objects of its love everywhere, in what is harsh and fearful, as well as +what is kind, nay, even in all that seems coarse and commonplace; +seizing that which is good, and delighting more sometimes at finding its +table spread in strange places, and in the presence of its enemies, and +its honey coming out of the rock, than if all were harmonized into a +less wondrous pleasure; hating only what is self-sighted and insolent of +men's work, despising all that is not of God, unless reminding it of +God, yet able to find evidence of him still, where all seems forgetful +of him, and to turn that into a witness of his working which was meant +to obscure it, and so with clear and unoffended sight beholding him +forever, according to the written promise,—Blessed are the pure in +heart, for they shall see God.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_7" href="#FnAnchor_7">[7]</a> <span class="grk" title="hōs dei, kai kath' hyperbolźn kai elleipsin"> ώς +δεί, καί καθ' ύπερβολήν +καί έλλειψιν</span>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_8" href="#FnAnchor_8">[8]</a> Comp. Hooker, Eccl. Pol. Book i. chap. 8.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_9" href="#FnAnchor_9">[9]</a> Plato, Phędrus, § 9.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page019"></a>[Page 19]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<h5>OF ACCURACY AND INACCURACY IN IMPRESSIONS OF SENSE.</h5> + +<p>Hitherto we have observed only the distinctions <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p1">§ 1. By what test is the +health of the perceptive faculty to be determined?</a></span>of dignity among +pleasures of sense, considered merely as such, and the way in which any +of them may become theoretic in being received with right feeling.</p> + +<p>But as we go farther, and examine the distinctive nature of ideas of +beauty, we shall, I believe, perceive something in them besides ęsthetic +pleasure, which attests a more important function belonging to them than +attaches to other sensual ideas, and exhibits a more exalted character +in the faculty by which they are received. And this was what I alluded +to, when I said in the chapter already referred to (§ 1), that "we may +indeed perceive, as far as we are acquainted with the nature of God, +that we have been so constructed as in a healthy state of mind to derive +pleasure from whatever things are illustrative of that nature."</p> + +<p>This point it is necessary now farther to develop.</p> + +<p>Our first inquiry must evidently be, how we are authorized to affirm of +any man's mind, respecting impressions of sight, that it is in a healthy +state or otherwise. What canon or test is there by which we may +determine of these impressions that they are or are not <i>rightly</i> +esteemed beautiful? To what authority, when men are at variance with +each other on this subject, shall it be deputed to judge which is right? +or is there any such authority or canon at all?</p> + +<p>For it does not at first appear easy to prove that men ought to like one +thing rather than another, and although this is granted generally by +men's speaking of bad or good taste, it is frequently denied when we +pass to particulars, by the assertion of each individual that he has a +right to his opinion—a right which is sometimes claimed even in moral +matters, though then <span class="pagenum"><a name="page020"></a>[Page 20]</span> palpably without foundation, but which +does not appear altogether irrational in matters ęsthetic, wherein +little operation of voluntary choice is supposed possible. It would +appear strange, for instance, to assert, respecting a particular person +who preferred the scent of violets to roses, that he had no right to do +so. And yet, while I have said that the sensation of beauty is intuitive +and necessary, as men derive pleasure from the scent of a rose, I have +assumed that there are some sources from which it is rightly derived, +and others from which it is wrongly derived, in other words that men +have no right to think some things beautiful, and no right to remain +apathetic with regard to others.</p> + +<p>Hence then arise two questions, according to the sense in which the word +right is taken; the first, in what way an <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p2">§ 2. And in what sense may the +terms Right and Wrong be attached to its conclusions?</a></span>impression of sense +may be deceptive, and therefore a conclusion respecting it untrue; and +the second, in what way an impression of sense, or the preference of +one, may be a subject of will, and therefore of moral duty or +delinquency.</p> + +<p>To the first of these questions, I answer that we cannot speak of the +immediate impression of sense as false, nor of its preference to others +as mistaken, for no one can be deceived respecting the actual sensation +he perceives or prefers. But falsity may attach to his assertion or +supposition, either that what he himself perceives is from the same +object perceived by others, or is always to be by himself perceived, or +is always to be by himself preferred; and when we speak of a man as +wrong in his impressions of sense, we either mean that he feels +differently from all, or a majority, respecting a certain object, or +that he prefers at present those of his impressions, which ultimately he +will not prefer.</p> + +<p>To the second I answer, that over immediate impressions and immediate +preferences we have no power, but over ultimate impressions, and +especially ultimate preferences we have; and that, though we can neither +at once choose whether we shall see an object, red, green, or blue, nor +determine to like the red better than the blue, or the blue better than +the red, yet we can, if we choose, make ourselves ultimately susceptible +of such impressions in other degrees, and capable of pleasures in them +in different <span class="pagenum"><a name="page021"></a>[Page 21]</span> measure; and because, wherever power of any kind +is given, there is responsibility attached, it is the duty of men to +prefer certain impressions of sense to others, because they have the +power of doing so, this being precisely analogous to the law of the +moral world, whereby men are supposed not only capable of governing +their likes and dislikes, but the whole culpability or propriety of +actions is dependent upon this capability, so that men are guilty or +otherwise, not for what they do, but for what they desire, the command +being not, thou shalt obey, but thou shalt love, the Lord thy God, +which, if men were not capable of governing and directing their +affections, would be the command of an impossibility.</p> + +<p>I assert, therefore, that even with respect to impressions <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p3">§ 3. What +power we have over impressions of sense.</a></span>of sense, we have a power of +preference, and a corresponding duty, and I shall show first the nature +of the power, and afterwards the nature of the duty.</p> + +<p>Let us take an instance from one of the lowest of the senses, and +observe the kind of power we have over the impressions of lingual taste. +On the first offering of two different things to the palate, it is not +in our power to prevent or command the instinctive preference. One will +be unavoidably and helplessly preferred to the other. But if the same +two things be submitted to judgment frequently and attentively, it will +be often found that their relations change. The palate, which at first +perceived only the coarse and violent qualities of either, will, as it +becomes more experienced, acquire greater subtilty and delicacy of +discrimination, perceiving in both agreeable or disagreeable qualities +at first unnoticed, which on continued experience will probably become +more influential than the first impressions; and whatever this final +verdict may be, it is felt by the person who gives it, and received by +others as a more correct one than the first.</p> + +<p>So, then, the power we have over the preference of impressions of taste +is not actual nor immediate, but only a power of testing and comparing +them frequently and carefully, <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p4">§ 4. Depends on acuteness of +attention.</a></span>until that which is the more permanent, the more consistently +agreeable, be determined. But when the instrument of taste is thus in +some degree perfected and rendered subtile, by its being practised upon +a single <span class="pagenum"><a name="page022"></a>[Page 22]</span> object, its conclusions will be more rapid with +respect to others, and it will be able to distinguish more quickly in +other things, and even to prefer at once, those qualities which are +calculated finally to give it most pleasure, though more capable with +respect to those on which it is more frequently exercised; whence people +are called judges with respect to this or that particular object of +taste.</p> + +<p>Now that verdicts of this kind are received as authoritative by others, +proves another and more important fact, namely, that not only changes +of opinion take place in <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p5">§ 5. Ultimate conclusions universal.</a></span>consequence +of experience, but that those changes are from variation of opinion to +unity of opinion; and that whatever may be the differences of estimate +among unpractised or uncultivated tastes, there will be unity of taste +among the experienced. And that therefore the operation of repeated +trial and experience is to arrive at principles of preference in some +sort common to all, and which are a part of our nature.</p> + +<p>I have selected the sense of taste for an instance, because it is the +least favorable to the position I hold, since there is more latitude +allowed, and more actual variety of verdict in the case of this sense +than of any other; and yet, however susceptible of variety even the +ultimate approximations of its preferences may be, the authority of +judges is distinctly allowed, and we hear every day the admission, by +those of unpractised palate, that they are, or may be wrong in their +opinions respecting the real pleasurableness of things either to +themselves, or to others.</p> + +<p>The sense, however, in which they thus use the word "wrong" is merely +that of falseness or inaccuracy in <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p6">§ 6. What duty is attached to this +power over impressions of sense.</a></span>conclusion, not of moral delinquency. +But there is, as I have stated, a duty, more or less imperative, +attached to every power we possess, and therefore to this power over the +lower senses as well as to all others.</p> + +<p>And this duty is evidently to bring every sense into that state of +cultivation, in which it shall both form the truest conclusions +respecting all that is submitted to it, and procure us the greatest +amount of pleasure consistent with its due relation to other senses and +functions. Which three constituents of perfection in sense, true +judgment, maximum sensibility, and right <span class="pagenum"><a name="page023"></a>[Page 23]</span> relation to others, +are invariably co-existent and involved one by the other, for the true +judgment is the result of the high sensibility, and the high sensibility +of the right relation. Thus, for instance, with respect to pleasures of +taste, it is our duty not to devote such inordinate attention to the +discrimination of them as must be inconsistent with our pursuit, and +destructive of our capacity of higher and preferable pleasures, but to +cultivate the sense of them in that way which is consistent with all +other good, by temperance, namely, and by such attention as the mind at +certain resting moments may fitly pay even to so ignoble a source of +pleasure as this, by which discipline we shall bring the faculty of +taste itself to its real maximum of sensibility; for it may not be +doubted but that health, hunger, and such general refinement of bodily +habits as shall make the body a perfect and fine instrument in all +respects, are better promoters of actual sensual enjoyment of taste, +than the sickened, sluggish, hard-stimulated fastidiousness of +Epicurism.</p> + +<p>So also it will certainly be found with all the senses, that they +individually receive the greatest and purest pleasure when they are in +right condition and degree of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p7">§ 7. How rewarded.</a></span>subordination to all the +rest; and that by the over cultivation of any one, (for morbid sources +of pleasure and correspondent temptations to irrational indulgence, +confessedly are attached to all,) we shall add more to their power as +instruments of punishment than of pleasure.</p> + +<p>We see then, in this example of the lowest sense, that the power we have +over sensations and preferences depends mainly on the exercise of +attention through certain prolonged periods, and that by this exercise, +we arrive at ultimate, constant, and common sources of agreeableness, +casting off those which are external, accidental, and individual.</p> + +<p>That then which is required in order to the attainment of accurate +conclusions respecting the essence of the beautiful, is nothing more +than earnest, loving, and unselfish <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p8">§ 8. Especially with respect to +ideas of beauty.</a></span>attention to our impressions of it, by which those which +are shallow, false, or peculiar to times and temperaments, may be +distinguished from those that are eternal. And this dwelling upon, and +fond contemplation of them, (the anschauung of the Germans,) is perhaps +as much as was meant <span class="pagenum"><a name="page024"></a>[Page 24]</span> by the Greek theoria; and it is indeed a +very noble exercise of the souls of men, and one by which they are +peculiarly distinguished from the anima of lower creatures, which +cannot, I think, be proved to have any capacity of contemplation at all, +but only a restless vividness of perception and conception, the "fancy" +of Hooker (Eccl. Pol. Book i. Chap. vi. 2). And yet this dwelling upon +them comes not up to that which I wish to express by the word theoria, +unless it be accompanied by full perception of their being a gift from +and manifestation of God, and by all those other nobler emotions before +described, since not until so felt is their essential nature +comprehended.</p> + +<p>But two very important points are to be observed respecting the +direction and discipline of the attention in the early stages of +judgment. <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p9">§ 9. Errors induced by the power of habit.</a></span>The first, that, for +many beneficent purposes, the nature of man has been made reconcilable +by custom to many things naturally painful to it, and even improper for +it, and that therefore, though by continued experience, united with +thought, we may discover that which is best of several, yet if we submit +ourselves to authority or fashion, and close our eyes, we may be by +custom made to tolerate, and even to love and long for, that which is +naturally painful and pernicious to us, whence arise incalculable +embarrassments on the subject of art.</p> + +<p>The second, that, in order to the discovery of that which is best of two +things, it is necessary that both should be equally submitted to the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p10">§ 10. The necessity of submission in early stages of judgment.</a></span>attention; +and therefore that we should have so much faith in authority as shall +make us repeatedly observe and attend to that which is said to be right, +even though at present we may not feel it so. And in the right mingling +of this faith with the openness of heart, which proves all things, lies +the great difficulty of the cultivation of the taste, as far as the +spirit of the scholar is concerned, though even when he has this spirit, +he may be long retarded by having evil examples submitted to him by +ignorant masters.</p> + +<p>The temper, therefore, by which right taste is formed, is first, +patient. It dwells upon what is submitted to it, it does not trample +upon it lest it should be pearls, even though it look like husks, it is +a good ground, soft, penetrable, retentive, it <span class="pagenum"><a name="page025"></a>[Page 25]</span> does not send +up thorns of unkind thoughts, to choke the weak seed, it is hungry and +thirsty too, and drinks all the dew that falls on it, it is an honest +and good heart, that shows no too ready springing before the sun be up, +but fails not afterwards; it is distrustful of itself, so as to be +ready to believe and to try all things, and yet so trustful of itself, +that it will neither quit what it has tried, nor take anything without +trying. And that pleasure which it has in things that it finds true and +good, is so great that it cannot possibly be led aside by any tricks of +fashion, nor diseases of vanity, it cannot be cramped in its conclusions +by partialities and hypocrisies, its visions and its delights are too +penetrating, too living, for any whitewashed object or shallow fountain +long to endure or supply. It clasps all that it loves so hard, that it +crushes it if it be hollow.</p> + +<p>Now, the conclusions of this disposition are sure to be eventually +right, more and more right according to the general maturity of all the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p11">§ 11. The large scope of matured judgment.</a></span>powers, but it is sure to come +right at last, because its operation is in analogy to, and in harmony +with, the whole spirit of the Christian moral system, and that which it +will ultimately love and rest in, are great sources of happiness common +to all the human race, and based on the relations they hold to their +Creator.</p> + +<p>These common and general sources of pleasure are, I believe, a certain +seal, or impress of divine work and character, upon whatever God has +wrought in all the world; only, it being necessary for the perception of +them, that their contraries should also be set before us, these divine +qualities, though inseparable from all divine works, are yet suffered to +exist in such varieties of degree, that their most limited manifestation +shall, in opposition to their most abundant, act as a foil or contrary, +just as we conceive of cold as contrary to heat, though the most extreme +cold we can produce or conceive is not inconsistent with an unknown +amount of heat in the body.</p> + +<p>Our purity of taste, therefore, is best tested by its universality, for +if we can only admire this thing or that, we may be sure that our cause +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p12">§ 12. How distinguishable from false taste.</a></span>for liking is of a finite and +false nature. But if we can perceive beauty in everything of God's +doing, we may argue that we have reached the true perception of its +universal laws. Hence, false <span class="pagenum"><a name="page026"></a>[Page 26]</span> taste may be known by its +fastidiousness, by its demands of pomp, splendor, and unusual +combination, by its enjoyment only of particular styles and modes of +things, and by its pride also, for it is forever meddling, mending, +accumulating, and self-exulting, its eye is always upon itself, and it +tests all things around it by the way they fit it. But true taste is +forever growing, learning, reading, worshipping, laying its hand upon +its mouth because it is astonished, casting its shoes from off its feet +because it finds all ground holy, lamenting over itself and testing +itself by the way that it fits things. And it finds whereof to feed, and +whereby to grow, in all things, and therefore the complaint so often +made by young artists that they have not within their reach materials, +or subjects enough for their fancy, is utterly groundless, and the sign +only of their own blindness and inefficiency; for there is that to be +seen in every street and lane of every city, that to be felt and found +in every human heart and countenance, that to be loved in every +road-side weed and moss-grown wall, which in the hands of faithful men, +may convey emotions of glory and sublimity continual and exalted.</p> + +<p>Let therefore the young artist beware of the spirit of choice,<a name="FnAnchor_10" href="#Footnote_10"><sup>[10]</sup></a> it is +an insolent spirit at the best and commonly a base and blind one too, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p13">§ 13. The danger of a spirit of choice.</a></span>checking all progress and +blasting all power, encouraging weaknesses, pampering partialities, and +teaching us to look to accidents of nature for the help and the joy +which should come from our own hearts. He draws nothing well who +thirsts not to draw <i>every</i>thing; when a good painter shrinks, it is +because he is humbled, not fastidious, when he stops, it is because he +is surfeited, and not because he thinks nature has given him unkindly +food, or that he fears famine.<a name="FnAnchor_11" href="#Footnote_11"><sup>[11]</sup></a> I have seen a man of true taste pause +for a quarter of an hour to look at the channellings that recent rain +had traced in a heap of cinders.</p> + +<p>And here is evident another reason of that duty which we owe respecting +impressions of sight, namely, to discipline ourselves <span class="pagenum"><a name="page027"></a>[Page 27]</span> to the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p14">§ 14. And criminality.</a></span>enjoyment of those which are eternal in their +nature, not only because these are the most acute, but because they are +the most easily, constantly, and unselfishly attainable. For had it been +ordained by the Almighty that the highest pleasures of sight should be +those of most difficult attainment, and that to arrive at them it should +be necessary to accumulate gilded palaces tower over tower, and pile +artificial mountains around insinuated lakes, there would have been a +direct contradiction between the unselfish duties and inherent desires +of every individual. But no such contradiction exists in the system of +Divine Providence, which, leaving it open to us, if we will, as +creatures in probation, to abuse this sense like every other, and pamper +it with selfish and thoughtless vanities as we pamper the palate with +deadly meats, until the appetite of tasteful cruelty is lost in its +sickened satiety, incapable of pleasure unless, Caligula like, it +concentrate the labor of a million of lives into the sensation of an +hour, leaves it also open to us, by humble and loving ways, to make +ourselves susceptible of deep delight from the meanest objects of +creation, and of a delight which shall not separate us from our fellows, +nor require the sacrifice of any duty or occupation, but which shall +bind us closer to men and to God, and be with us always, harmonized with +every action, consistent with every claim, unchanging and eternal.</p> + +<p>Seeing then that these qualities of material objects which are +calculated to give us this universal pleasure, are demonstrably constant +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p15">§ 15. How certain conclusions respecting beauty are by reason +demonstrable.</a></span>in their address to human nature, they must belong in some +measure to whatever has been esteemed beautiful throughout successive +ages of the world (and they are also by their definition common to all +the works of God). Therefore it is evident that it must be possible to +reason them out, as well as to feel them out; possible to divest every +object of that which makes it accidentally or temporarily pleasant, and +to strip it bare of distinctive qualities, until we arrive at those +which it has in common with all other beautiful things, which we may +then safely affirm to be the cause of its ultimate and true +delightfulness.</p> + +<p>Now this process of reasoning will be that which I shall <span class="pagenum"><a name="page028"></a>[Page 28]</span> +endeavor to employ in the succeeding investigations, a process perfectly +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p16">§ 16. With what liabilities to error.</a></span>safe, so long as we are quite sure +that we are reasoning concerning objects which produce in us one and the +same sensation, but not safe if the sensation produced be of a different +nature, though it may be equally agreeable; for what produces a +different sensation must be a different cause. And the difficulty of +reasoning respecting beauty arises chiefly from the ambiguity of the +word, which stands in different people's minds for totally different +sensations, for which there can be no common cause.</p> + +<p>When, for instance, Mr. Alison endeavors to support his position that +"no man is sensible to beauty in those objects with regard to which he +has not previous ideas," by the remark that "the beauty of a theory, or +of a relic of antiquity, is unintelligible to a peasant," we see at once +that it is hopeless to argue with a man who, under his general term +beauty, may, for anything we know, be sometimes speaking of mathematical +demonstrability and sometimes of historical interest; while even if we +could succeed in limiting the term to the sense of external +attractiveness, there would be still room for many phases of error; for +though the beauty of a snowy mountain and of a human cheek or forehead, +so far as both are considered as mere matter, is the same, and traceable +to certain qualities of color and line, common to both, and by reason +extricable, yet the flush of the cheek and moulding of the brow, as they +express modesty, affection, or intellect, possess sources of +agreeableness which are not common to the snowy mountain, and the +interference of whose influence we must be cautious to prevent in our +examination of those which are material and universal.<a name="FnAnchor_12" href="#Footnote_12"><sup>[12]</sup></a></p> + +<p>The first thing, then, that we have to do, is accurately to discriminate +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c3p17">§ 17. The term "beauty" how limitable in the outset. Divided into +typical and vital.</a></span>and define those appearances from which we are about +to reason as belonging to beauty, properly so called, and to clear the +ground of all the confused ideas and erroneous theories with which the +misapprehension or metaphorical use of the term has encumbered it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page029"></a>[Page 29]</span></p> + +<p>By the term beauty, then, properly are signified two things. First, that +external quality of bodies already so often spoken of, and which, +whether it occur in a stone, flower, beast, or in man, is absolutely +identical, which, as I have already asserted, may be shown to be in some +sort typical of the Divine attributes, and which, therefore, I shall, +for distinction's sake, call typical beauty; and, secondarily, the +appearance of felicitous fulfilment of function in living things, more +especially of the joyful and right exertion of perfect life in man. And +this kind of beauty I shall call vital beauty.</p> + +<p>Any application of the word beautiful to other appearances or qualities +than these, is either false or metaphorical, as, for instance, to the +splendor of a discovery, the fitness of a proportion, the coherence of a +chain of reasoning, or the power of bestowing pleasure which objects +receive from association, a power confessedly great, and interfering, as +we shall presently find, in a most embarrassing way with the +attractiveness of inherent beauty.</p> + +<p>But in order that the mind of the reader may not be biassed at the +outset by that which he may happen to have received of current theories +respecting beauty, founded on the above metaphorical uses of the word, +(theories which are less to be reprobated as accounting falsely for the +sensations of which they treat, than as confusing two or more +pleasurable sensations together,) I shall briefly glance at the four +erroneous positions most frequently held upon this subject, before +proceeding to examine those typical and vital properties of things, to +which I conceive that all our original conceptions of beauty may be +traced.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_10" href="#FnAnchor_10">[10]</a> "Nothing comes amiss,—A good digestion turneth all to health."—<span class="sc">G. +Herbert.</span></p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_11" href="#FnAnchor_11">[11]</a> Yet note the difference between the choice that comes of pride, and +the choice that comes of love, and compare <a href="#s1c15p6">Chap. xv. § 6</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_12" href="#FnAnchor_12">[12]</a> Compare Spenser. (Hymn to Beauty.)</p> + +<p class="poemq">"But ah, believe me, there is more than so,<br /> + That works such wonders in the minds of men."</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page030"></a>[Page 30]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<h5>OF FALSE OPINIONS HELD CONCERNING BEAUTY.</h5> + +<p>I purpose at present to speak only of four of the more current opinions +respecting beauty, for of the errors connected with the pleasurableness +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p1">§ 1. Of the false opinion that truth is beauty, and vice versa.</a></span>of +proportion, and of the expression of right feelings in the countenance, +I shall have opportunity to treat in the succeeding chapters; (compare +Ch. VI. Ch. XVI.)</p> + +<p>Those erring or inconsistent positions which I would at once dismiss +are, the first, that the beautiful is the true, the second, that the +beautiful is the useful, the third, that it is dependent on custom, and +the fourth, that it is dependent on the association of ideas.</p> + +<p>To assert that the beautiful is the true, appears, at first, like +asserting that propositions are matter, and matter propositions. But +giving the best and most rational interpretation we can, and supposing +the holders of this strange position to mean only that things are +beautiful which appear what they indeed are, and ugly which appear what +they are not, we find them instantly contradicted by each and every +conclusion of experience. A stone looks as truly a stone as a rose looks +a rose, and yet is not so beautiful; a cloud may look more like a castle +than a cloud, and be the more beautiful on that account. The mirage of +the desert is fairer than its sands; the false image of the under heaven +fairer than the sea. I am at a loss to know how any so untenable a +position could ever have been advanced; but it may, perhaps, have arisen +from some confusion of the beauty of art with the beauty of nature, and +from an illogical expansion of the very certain truth, that nothing is +beautiful in art, which, professing to be an imitation, or a statement, +is not as such in some sort true.</p> + +<p>That the beautiful is the useful, is an assertion evidently based on +that limited and false sense of the latter term which I <span class="pagenum"><a name="page031"></a>[Page 31]</span> have +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p2">§ 2. Of the false opinion that beauty is usefulness. Compare Chap. xii. +§ 5.</a></span>already deprecated. As it is the most degrading and dangerous +supposition which can be advanced on the subject, so, fortunately, it is +the most palpably absurd. It is to confound admiration with hunger, love +with lust, and life with sensation; it is to assert that the human +creature has no ideas and no feelings, except those ultimately referable +to its brutal appetites. It has not a single fact nor appearance of +fact to support it, and needs no combating, at least until its advocates +have obtained the consent of the majority of mankind, that the most +beautiful productions of nature are seeds and roots; and of art, spades +and millstones.</p> + +<p>Somewhat more rational grounds appear for the assertion that the sense +of the beautiful arises from familiarity with the object, though even +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p3">§ 3. Of the false opinion that beauty results from custom. Compare Chap. +vi. § 1.</a></span>this could not long be maintained by a thinking person. For all +that can be alleged in defence of such a supposition is, that +familiarity deprives some objects which at first appeared ugly, of much +of their repulsiveness, whence it is as rational to conclude that +familiarity is the cause of beauty, as it would be to argue that because +it is possible to acquire a taste for olives, therefore custom is the +cause of lusciousness in grapes. Nevertheless, there are some phenomena +resulting from the tendency of our nature to be influenced by habit of +which it may be well to observe the limits.</p> + +<p>Custom has a twofold operation: the one to deaden the frequency and +force of repeated impressions, the other to endear the familiar object +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p4">§ 4. The twofold operation of custom. It deadens sensation, but confirms +affection.</a></span>to the affections. Commonly, where the mind is vigorous, and +the power of sensation very perfect, it has rather the last operation +than the first; with meaner minds, the first takes place in the higher +degree, so that they are commonly characterized by a desire of +excitement, and the want of the loving, fixed, theoretic power. But both +take place in some degree with all men, so that as life advances, +impressions of all kinds become less rapturous owing to their +repetition. It is however beneficently ordained that repulsiveness shall +be diminished by custom in a far greater degree than the sensation of +beauty, so that the anatomist in a little time loses all sense of +horror in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page032"></a>[Page 32]</span> torn flesh, and carous bone, while the sculptor +ceases not to feel to the close of his life, the deliciousness of every +line of the outward frame. So then as in that with which we are made +familiar, the repulsiveness is constantly diminishing, and such claims +as it may be able to put forth on the affections are daily becoming +stronger, while in what is submitted to us of new or strange, that which +may be repulsive is felt in its full force, while no hold is as yet laid +on the affections, there is a very strong preference induced in most +minds for that to which they are not accustomed over that they know not, +and this <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p5">§ 5. But never either creates or destroys the essence of +beauty.</a></span>is strongest in those which are least open to sensations of +positive beauty. But however far this operation may be carried, its +utmost effect is but the deadening and approximating the sensations of +beauty and ugliness. It never mixes nor crosses, nor in any way alters +them; it has not the slightest connection with nor power over their +nature. By tasting two wines alternately, we may deaden our perception +of their flavor; nay, we may even do more than can ever be done in the +case of sight, we may confound the two flavors together. But it will +hardly be argued therefore that custom is the cause of either flavor. +And so, though by habit we may deaden the effect of ugliness or beauty, +it is not for that reason to be affirmed that habit is the cause of +either sensation. We may keep a skull beside us as long as we please, we +may overcome its repulsiveness, we may render ourselves capable of +perceiving many qualities of beauty about its lines, we may contemplate +it for years together if we will, it and nothing else, but we shall not +get ourselves to think as well of it as of a child's fair face.</p> + +<p>It would be easy to pursue the subject farther, but I believe that every +thoughtful reader will be perfectly well able to supply farther <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p6">§ 6. +Instances.</a></span>illustrations, and sweep away the sandy foundations of the +opposite theory, unassisted. Let it, however, be observed, that in spite +of all custom, an Englishman instantly acknowledges, and at first sight, +the superiority of the turban to the hat, or of the plaid to the coat, +that whatever the dictates of immediate fashion may compel, the superior +gracefulness of the Greek or middle age costumes is invariably felt, and +that, respecting what has been asserted of negro nations looking with +disgust on the white face, no importance <span class="pagenum"><a name="page033"></a>[Page 33]</span> whatever is to be +attached to the opinions of races who have never received any ideas of +beauty whatsoever, (these ideas being only received by minds under some +certain degree of cultivation,) and whose disgust arises naturally from +what they may suppose to be a sign of weakness or ill health. It would +be futile to proceed into farther detail. I pass to the last and most +weighty theory, that the agreeableness in objects which we call beauty +is the result of the association with them of agreeable or interesting +ideas.</p> + +<p>Frequent has been the support, and wide the acceptance of this +supposition, and yet I suppose that no two consecutive sentences were +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p7">§ 7. Of the false opinion that beauty depends on the association of +ideas.</a></span>ever written in defence of it, without involving either a +contradiction or a confusion of terms. Thus Alison, "There are scenes +undoubtedly more beautiful than Runnymede, yet to those who recollect +the great event that passed there, there is no scene perhaps which so +strongly seizes on the imagination." Here we are wonder-struck at the +audacious obtuseness which would prove the power of imagination by its +overcoming that very other power (of inherent beauty) whose existence +the arguer denies. For the only logical conclusion which can possibly be +drawn from the above sentence is, that imagination is <i>not</i> the source +of beauty, for although no scene seizes so strongly on the imagination, +yet there are scenes "more beautiful than Runnymede." And though +instances of self-contradiction as laconic and complete as this are to +be found in few writers except Alison, yet if the arguments on the +subject be fairly sifted from the mass of confused language with which +they are always encumbered and placed in logical form, they will be +found invariably to involve one of these two syllogisms, either, +association gives pleasure, and beauty gives pleasure, therefore +association is beauty. Or, the power of association is stronger than the +power of beauty, therefore the power of association <i>is</i> the power of +beauty.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless it is necessary for us to observe the real value and <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p8">§ 8. +Association. Is, 1st, rational. It is of no efficiency as a cause of +beauty.</a></span>authority of association in the moral system, and how ideas of +actual beauty may be affected by it, otherwise we shall be liable to +embarrassment throughout the whole of the succeeding argument.</p> + +<p>Association is of two kinds. Rational and accidental. By <span class="pagenum"><a name="page034"></a>[Page 34]</span> +rational association I understand the interest which any object may bear +historically as having been in some way connected with the affairs or +affections of men; an interest shared in the minds of all who are aware +of such connection: which to call beauty is mere and gross confusion of +terms, it is no theory to be confuted, but a misuse of language to be +set aside, a misuse involving the positions that in uninhabited +countries the vegetation has no grace, the rock no dignity, the cloud no +color, and that the snowy summits of the Alps receive no loveliness from +the sunset light, because they have not been polluted by the wrath, +ravage, and misery of men.</p> + +<p>By accidental association, I understand the accidental connection of +ideas and memories with material things, owing to which those material +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p9">§ 9. Association accidental. The extent of its influence.</a></span>things are +regarded as agreeable or otherwise, according to the nature of the +feelings or recollections they summon; the association being commonly +involuntary and oftentimes so vague as that no distinct image is +suggested by the object, but we feel a painfulness in it or pleasure +from it, without knowing wherefore. Of this operation of the mind (which +is that of which I spoke as causing inextricable embarrassments on the +subject of beauty) the experience is constant, so that its more +energetic manifestations require no illustration. But I do not think +that the minor degrees and shades of this great influence have been +sufficiently appreciated. Not only all vivid emotions and all +circumstances of exciting interest leave their light and shadow on the +senseless things and instruments among which or through whose agency +they have been felt or learned, but I believe that the eye cannot rest +on a material form, in a moment of depression or exultation, without +communicating to that form a spirit and a life, a life which will make +it afterwards in some degree loved or feared, a charm or a painfulness +for which we shall be unable to account even to ourselves, which will +not indeed be perceptible, except by its delicate influence on our +judgment in cases of complicated beauty. Let the eye but rest on a rough +piece of branch of curious form during a conversation with a friend, +rest, however, unconsciously, and though the conversation be forgotten, +though every circumstance connected with it be as utterly lost to the +memory as though it had not <span class="pagenum"><a name="page035"></a>[Page 35]</span> been, yet the eye will, through +the whole life after, take a certain pleasure in such boughs which it +had not before, a pleasure so slight, a trace of feeling so delicate as +to leave us utterly unconscious of its peculiar power, but undestroyable +by any reasoning, a part, thenceforward, of our constitution, +destroyable only by the same arbitrary process of association by which +it was created. Reason has no effect upon it whatsoever. And there is +probably no one opinion which is formed by any of us, in matters of +taste, which is not in some degree influenced by unconscious association +of this kind. In many who have no definite rules of judgment, preference +is decided by little else, and thus, unfortunately, its operations are +mistaken for, or rather substituted for, those of inherent beauty, and +its real position and value in the moral system is in a great measure +overlooked.</p> + +<p>For I believe that mere pleasure and pain have less associative power +than duty performed or omitted, and that the great use of the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p10">§ 10. The +dignity of its function.</a></span>associative faculty is not to add beauty to +material things, but to add force to the conscience. But for this +external and all-powerful witness, the voice of the inward guide might +be lost in each particular instance, almost as soon as disobeyed; the +echo of it in after time, whereby, though perhaps feeble as warning, it +becomes powerful as punishment, might be silenced, and the strength of +the protection pass away in the lightness of the lash. Therefore it has +received the power of enlisting external and unmeaning things in its +aid, and transmitting to all that is indifferent, its own authority to +reprove or reward, so that, as we travel the way of life, we have the +choice, according to our working, of turning all the voices of nature +into one song of rejoicing, and all her lifeless creatures into a glad +company, whereof the meanest shall be beautiful in our eyes, by its kind +message, or of withering and quenching her sympathy into a fearful, +withdrawn, silence of condemnation, or into a crying out of her stones, +and a shaking of her dust against us. Nor is it any marvel that the +theoretic faculty should be overpowered by this momentous operation, and +the indifferent appeals and inherent glories of external things in the +end overlooked, when the perfection of God's works is felt only as the +sweetness of his <span class="pagenum"><a name="page036"></a>[Page 36]</span> promises, and their admirableness only as the +threatenings of his power.</p> + +<p>But it is evident that the full exercise of this noble function of the +associative faculty is inconsistent with absolute and incontrovertible +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p11">§ 11. How it is connected with impressions of beauty.</a></span>conclusions on +subjects of theoretic preference. For it is quite impossible for any +individual to distinguish in himself the unconscious underworking of +indefinite association, peculiar to him individually, from those great +laws of choice under which he is comprehended with all his race. And it +is well for us that it is so, the harmony of God's good work is not in +us interrupted by this mingling of universal and peculiar principles; +for by these such difference is secured in the feelings as shall make +fellowship itself more delightful, by its inter-communicate character, +and such variety of feeling also in each of us separately as shall make +us capable of enjoying scenes of different kinds and orders, instead of +morbidly seeking for some perfect epitome of the beautiful in one; and +also that deadening by custom of theoretic impressions to which I have +above alluded, is counterbalanced by the pleasantness of acquired +association; and the loss of the intense feeling of the youth, which +"had no need of a remoter charm, by thought supplied, or any interest, +unborrowed from the eye," is replaced by the gladness of conscience, and +the vigor of the reflecting and imaginative faculties, as they take +their wide and aged grasp of the great relations between the earth and +its dead people.</p> + +<p>In proportion therefore to the value, constancy, and efficiency of this +influence, we must be modest and cautious in the pronouncing of positive +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c4p12">§ 12. And what caution it renders necessary in the examination of +them.</a></span>opinions on the subject of beauty. For every one of us has peculiar +sources of enjoyment necessarily opened to him in certain scenes and +things, sources which are sealed to others, and we must be wary on the +one hand, of confounding these in ourselves with ultimate conclusions of +taste, and so forcing them upon all as authoritative, and on the other +of supposing that the enjoyments of others which we cannot share are +shallow or unwarrantable, because incommunicable. I fear, for instance, +that in the former portion of this work I may have attributed too much +community and authority to certain affections <span class="pagenum"><a name="page037"></a>[Page 37]</span> of my own for +scenery inducing emotions of wild, impetuous, and enthusiastic +characters, and too little to those which I perceive in others for +things peaceful, humble, meditative, and solemn. So also between youth +and age there will be found differences of seeking, which are not wrong, +nor of false choice in either, but of different temperament, the youth +sympathizing more with the gladness, fulness, and magnificence of +things, and the gray hairs with their completion, sufficiency and +repose. And so, neither condemning the delights of others, nor +altogether distrustful of our own, we must advance, as we live on, from +what is brilliant to what is pure, and from what is promised to what is +fulfilled, and from what is our strength to what is our crown, only +observing in all things how that which is indeed wrong, and to be cut up +from the root, is dislike, and not affection. For by the very nature of +these beautiful qualities, which I have defined to be the signature of +God upon his works, it is evident that in whatever we altogether +dislike, we see not all; that the keenness of our vision is to be tested +by the expansiveness of our love, and that as far as the influence of +association has voice in the question, though it is indeed possible that +the inevitable painfulness of an object, for which we can render no +sufficient reason, may be owing to its recalling of a sorrow, it is more +probably dependent on its accusation of a crime.</p> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page038"></a>[Page 38]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<h5>OF TYPICAL BEAUTY:—FIRST, OF INFINITY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE +INCOMPREHENSIBILITY.</h5> + +<p>The subject being now in some measure cleared of embarrassment, let us +briefly distinguish those qualities or types on whose combination is +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p1">§ 1. Impossibility of adequately treating the subject.</a></span>dependent the +power of mere material loveliness. I pretend neither to enumerate nor +perceive them all, for it may be generally observed that whatever good +there may be, desirable by man, more especially good belonging to his +moral nature, there will be a corresponding agreeableness in whatever +external object reminds him of such good, whether it remind him by +arbitrary association or by typical resemblance, and that the infinite +ways, whether by reason or experience discoverable, by which matter in +some sort may remind us of moral perfections, are hardly within any +reasonable limits to be explained, if even by any single mind they might +all be traced. Yet certain palpable and powerful modes there are, by +observing which, we may come at such general conclusions on the subject +as may be practically useful, and more than these I shall not attempt to +obtain.</p> + +<p>And first, I would ask of the reader to enter upon the subject with me, +as far as may be, as a little child, ridding himself of all conventional +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p2">§ 2. With what simplicity of feeling to be approached.</a></span>and authoritative +thoughts, and especially of such associations as arise from his respect +for Pagan art, or which are in any way traceable to classical readings. +I recollect that Mr. Alison traces his first perceptions of beauty in +external nature to this most corrupt source, thus betraying so total and +singular a want of natural sensibility as may well excuse the +deficiencies of his following arguments. For there was never yet the +child of any promise (so far as the theoretic faculties are concerned) +but awaked to the sense of beauty with the first gleam of reason; and I +suppose there are few, among those who love nature otherwise than by +profession and at second-hand, who look not back <span class="pagenum"><a name="page039"></a>[Page 39]</span> to their +youngest and least-learned days as those of the most intense, +superstitious, insatiable, and beatific perception of her splendors. And +the bitter decline of this glorious feeling, though many note it not, +partly owing to the cares and weight of manhood, which leave them not +the time nor the liberty to look for their lost treasure, and partly to +the human and divine affections which are appointed to take its place, +yet has formed the subject not indeed of lamentation, but of holy +thankfulness for the witness it bears to the immortal origin and end of +our nature, to one whose authority is almost without appeal in all +questions relating to the influence of external things upon the pure +human soul.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Heaven lies about us in our infancy,— <br /> + Shades of the prison-house begin to close <br /> + Upon the growing boy. <br /> + But he beholds the light, and whence it flows <br /> + He sees it in his joy. <br /> + The youth, who daily farther from the east <br /> + Must travel, still is nature's priest, <br /> + And by the vision splendid<br /> + Is on his way attended. <br /> + At length the Man perceives it die away <br /> + And fade into the light of common day." <br /> +</p> + +<p>And if it were possible for us to recollect all the unaccountable and +happy instincts of the careless time, and to reason upon them with the +maturer judgment, we might arrive at more rapid and right results than +either the philosophy or the sophisticated practice of art have yet +attained. But we lose the perceptions before we are capable of +methodizing or comparing them.</p> + +<p>One, however, of these child instincts, I believe that few forget; the +emotion, namely, caused by all open ground, or lines of any spacious +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p3">§ 3. The child instinct respecting space.</a></span>kind against the sky, behind +which there might be conceived the sea. It is an emotion more pure than +that caused by the sea itself, for I recollect distinctly running down +behind the banks of a high beach to get their land line cutting against +the sky, and receiving a more strange delight from this than from the +sight of the ocean: I am not sure that this feeling is common to all +children, (or would be common if they were all in circumstances +admitting it), but I have ascertained it to be frequent among <span class="pagenum"><a name="page040"></a>[Page 40]</span> +those who possess the most vivid sensibilities for nature; and I am +certain that the modification of it, which belongs to our after years, +is common to all, the love, namely, of a light distance appearing over a +comparatively dark horizon. This I have tested too frequently to be +mistaken, by offering to indifferent spectators forms of equal abstract +beauty in half tint, relieved, the one against dark sky, the other +against a bright distance. The preference is invariably given to the +latter, and it is very certain that this preference arises not from any +supposition of there being greater truth in this than the other, for the +same preference is <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p4">§ 4. Continued in after life.</a></span>unhesitatingly accorded +to the same effect in nature herself. Whatever beauty there may result +from effects of light on foreground objects, from the dew of the grass, +the flash of the cascade, the glitter of the birch trunk, or the fair +daylight hues of darker things, (and joyfulness there is in all of +them), there is yet a light which the eye invariably seeks with a deeper +feeling of the beautiful, the light of the declining or breaking day, +and the flakes of scarlet cloud burning like watch-fires in the green +sky of the horizon; a deeper feeling, I say, not perhaps more acute, but +having more of spiritual hope and longing, less of animal and present +life, more manifest, invariably, in those of more serious and determined +mind, (I use the word serious, not as being opposed to cheerful, but to +trivial and volatile;) but, I think, marked and unfailing even in those +of the least thoughtful dispositions. I am willing to let it rest on the +determination of every reader, whether the pleasure which he has +received from these effects of calm and luminous distance be not the +most singular and memorable of which he has been conscious, whether all +that is dazzling in color, perfect in form, gladdening in expression, be +not of evanescent and shallow appealing, when compared with the still +small voice of the level twilight behind purple hills, or the scarlet +arch of dawn over the dark, troublous-edged sea.</p> + +<p>Let us try to discover that which effects of this kind possess or +suggest, peculiar to themselves, and which other effects of light and +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p5">§ 5. Whereto this instinct is traceable.</a></span>color possess not. There <i>must</i> +be something in them of a peculiar character, and that, whatever it be, +must be one of the primal and most earnest motives of beauty to human +sensation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page041"></a>[Page 41]</span></p> + +<p>Do they show finer characters of form than can be developed by the +broader daylight? Not so; for their power is almost independent of the +forms they assume or display; it matters little whether the bright +clouds be simple or manifold, whether the mountain line be subdued or +majestic, the fairer forms of earthly things are by them subdued and +disguised, the round and muscular growth of the forest trunks is sunk +into skeleton lines of quiet shade, the purple clefts of the hill-side +are labyrinthed in the darkness, the orbed spring and whirling wave of +the torrent have given place to a white, ghastly, interrupted gleaming. +Have they more perfection or fulness of color? Not so; for their effect +is oftentimes deeper when their hues are dim, than when they are +blazoned with crimson and pale gold; and assuredly, in the blue of the +rainy sky, in the many tints of morning flowers, in the sunlight on +summer foliage and field, there are more sources of mere sensual +color-pleasure than in the single streak of wan and dying light. It is +not then by nobler form, it is not by positiveness of hue, it is not by +intensity of light, (for the sun itself at noonday is effectless upon +the feelings,) that this strange distant space possesses its attractive +power. But there is one thing that it has, or suggests, which no other +object of sight suggests in equal degree, and that is,—Infinity. +It is of all visible things the least material, the least finite, the +farthest withdrawn from the earth prison-house, the most typical of the +nature of God, the most suggestive of the glory of his dwelling-place. +For the sky of night, though we may know it boundless, is dark, it is a +studded vault, a roof that seems to shut us in and down, but the bright +distance has no limit, we feel its infinity, as we rejoice in its purity +of light.</p> + +<p>Now not only is this expression of infinity in distance most precious +wherever we find it, however solitary it may be, and however unassisted +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p6">§ 6. Infinity how necessary in art.</a></span>by other forms and kinds of beauty, +but it is of that value that no such other forms will altogether +recompense us for its loss; and much as I dread the enunciation of +anything that may seem like a conventional rule, I have no hesitation in +asserting, that no work of any art, in which this expression of infinity +is possible, can be perfect, or supremely elevated without it, and that +in proportion to its presence, it will exalt and render impressive <span class="pagenum"><a name="page042"></a>[Page +42]</span> even the most tame and trivial themes. And I think if there be any +one grand division, by which it is at all possible to set the +productions of painting, so far as their mere plan or system is +concerned, on our right and left hands, it is this of light and dark +background, of heaven light or of object light. For I know not any truly +great painter of any time, who manifests not the most intense pleasure +in the luminous space of his backgrounds, or who ever sacrifices this +pleasure where the nature of his subject admits of its attainment, as on +the other hand I know not that the habitual use of dark backgrounds can +be shown as having ever been co-existent with pure or high feeling, and, +except in the case of Rembrandt, (and then under peculiar circumstances +only,) with any high power of intellect. It is however necessary +carefully to observe the following modifications of this broad +principle.</p> + +<p>The absolute necessity, for such indeed I consider it, is of no more +than such a mere luminous distant point as may give to the feelings a +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p7">§ 7. Conditions of its necessity.</a></span>species of escape from all the finite +objects about them. There is a spectral etching of Rembrandt, a +presentation of Christ in the temple, where the figure of a robed priest +stands glaring by its gems out of the gloom, holding a crosier. Behind +it there is a subdued window light seen in the opening between two +columns, without which the impressiveness of the whole subject would, I +think, be incalculably brought down. I cannot tell whether I am at +present allowing too much weight to my own fancies and predilections, +but without so much escape into the outer air and open heaven as this, I +can take permanent pleasure in no picture.</p> + +<p>And I think I am supported in this feeling by the unanimous practice, if +not the confessed opinion, of all artists. The painter of portrait is +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p8">§ 8. And connected analogies.</a></span>unhappy without his conventional white +stroke under the sleeve, or beside the arm-chair; the painter of +interiors feels like a caged bird, unless he can throw a window open, or +set the door ajar; the landscapist dares not lose himself in forest +without a gleam of light under its farthest branches, nor ventures out +in rain, unless he may somewhere pierce to a better promise in the +distance, or cling to some closing gap of variable blue above;—escape, +hope, infinity, by whatever conventionalism <span class="pagenum"><a name="page043"></a>[Page 43]</span> sought, the desire +is the same in all, the instinct constant, it is no mere point of light +that is wanted in the etching of Rembrandt above instanced, a gleam of +armor or fold of temple curtain would have been utterly valueless, +neither is it liberty, for though we cut down hedges and level hills, +and give what waste and plain we choose, on the right hand and the left, +it is all comfortless and undesired, so long as we cleave not a way of +escape forward; and however narrow and thorny and difficult the nearer +path, it matters not, so only that the clouds open for us at its close. +Neither will any amount of beauty in nearer form, make us content to +stay with it, so long as we are shut down to that alone, nor is any form +so cold or so hurtful but that we may look upon it with kindness, so +only that it rise against the infinite hope of light beyond. The reader +can follow out the analogies of this unassisted.</p> + +<p>But although this narrow portal of escape be all that is absolutely +necessary, I think that the dignity of the painting increases with the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p9">§ 9. How the dignity of treatment is proportioned to the expression of +infinity.</a></span>extent and amount of the expression. With the earlier and +mightier painters of Italy, the practice is commonly to leave their +distance of pure and open sky, of such simplicity, that it in nowise +shall interfere with or draw the attention from the interest of the +figures, and of such purity, that especially towards the horizon, it +shall be in the highest degree expressive of the infinite space of +heaven. I do not mean to say that they did this with any occult or +metaphysical motives. They did it, I think, with the child-like, +unpretending simplicity of all earnest men; they did what they loved and +felt; they sought what the heart naturally seeks, and gave what it most +gratefully receives; and I look to them as in all points of principle +(not, observe, of knowledge or empirical attainment) as the most +irrefragable authorities, precisely on account of the child-like +innocence, which never deemed itself authoritative, but acted upon +desire, and not upon dicta, and sought for sympathy, not for admiration.</p> + +<p>And so we find the same simple and sweet treatment, the open sky, the +tender, unpretending, horizontal white clouds, the far winding and <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p10">§ 10. +Examples among the Southern schools.</a></span>abundant landscape, in Giotto, +Taddeo Gaddi, Laurati, Angelico, Benozzo, Ghirlandajo, Francia, +Perogino, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page044"></a>[Page 44]</span> and the young Raffaelle, the first symptom of +conventionality appearing in Perugino, who, though with intense feeling +of light and color he carried the glory of his luminous distance far +beyond all his predecessors, began at the same time to use a somewhat +morbid relief of his figures against the upper sky. Thus in the +Assumption of the Florentine Academy, in that of l'Annunziata; and of +the Gallery of Bologna, in all which pictures the lower portions are +incomparably the finest, owing to the light distance behind the heads. +Raffaelle, in his fall, betrayed the faith he had received from his +father and his master, and substituted for the radiant sky of the +Madonna del Cardellino, the chamber-wall of the Madonna della +Sediola—and the brown wainscot of the Baldacchino. Yet it is curious to +observe how much of the dignity even of his later pictures, depends on +such portions as the green light of the lake, and sky behind the rocks, +in the St. John of the tribune, and how the repainted distortion of the +Madonna dell' Impannata, is redeemed into something like elevated +character, merely by the light of the linen window from which it takes +its name.</p> + +<p>That which by the Florentines was done in pure simplicity of heart, was +done by the Venetians with intense love of the color and splendor of the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p11">§ 11. Among the Venetians.</a></span>sky itself, even to the frequent sacrificing +of their subject to the passion of its distance. In Carpaccio, John +Bellini, Giorgione, Titian, Veronese, and Tintoret, the preciousness of +the luminous sky, so far as it might be at all consistent with their +subject, is nearly constant; abandoned altogether in portraiture only, +seldom even there, and never with advantage. Titian and Veronese, who +had less exalted feeling than the others, affording a few instances of +exception, the latter overpowering his silvery distances with foreground +splendor, the other sometimes sacrificing them to a luscious fulness of +color, as in the Flagellation in the Louvre, by a comparison of which +with the unequalled majesty of the Entombment opposite, the whole power +and applicability of the general principle may at once be tested.</p> + +<p>But of the value of this mode of treatment there is a farther and more +convincing proof than its adoption either by the innocence <span class="pagenum"><a name="page045"></a>[Page 45]</span> of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p12">§ 12. Among the painters of landscape.</a></span>the Florentine or the ardor of the +Venetian, namely, that when retained or imitated from them by the +landscape painters of the seventeenth century, when appearing in +isolation from all other good, among the weaknesses and paltrinesses of +Claude, the mannerisms of Gaspar, and the caricatures and brutalities of +Salvator, it yet redeems and upholds all three, conquers all foulness by +its purity, vindicates all folly by its dignity, and puts an +uncomprehended power of permanent address to the human heart, upon the +lips of the senseless and the profane.<a name="FnAnchor_13" href="#Footnote_13"><sup>[13]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Now, although I doubt not that the general value of this treatment will +be acknowledged by all lovers of art, it is not certain that the point +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p13">§ 13. Other modes in which the power of infinity is felt.</a></span>to prove which +I have brought it forward, will be as readily conceded, namely, the +inherent power of all representations of infinity over the human heart; +for there are, indeed, countless associations of pure and religious +kind, which combine with each other to enhance the impression, when +presented in this particular form, whose power I neither deny nor am +careful to distinguish, seeing that they all tend to the same Divine +point, and have reference to heavenly hopes; delights they are in seeing +the narrow, black, miserable earth fairly compared with the bright +firmament, reachings forward unto the things that are <span class="pagenum"><a name="page046"></a>[Page 46]</span> before, +and joyfulness in the apparent though unreachable nearness and promise +of them. But there are other modes in which infinity may be +represented, which are confused by no associations of the kind, and +which would, as being in mere matter, appear trivial and mean, but for +their incalculable influence on the forms of all that we feel to be +beautiful. The first of these is the curvature of lines and surfaces, +wherein it at first appears futile to insist upon any resemblance or +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p14">§ 14. The beauty of curvature.</a></span>suggestion of infinity, since there is +certainly in our ordinary contemplation of it, no sensation of the kind. +But I have repeated again and again that the ideas of beauty are +instinctive, and that it is only upon consideration, and even then in +doubtful and disputable way, that they appear in their typical +character; neither do I intend at all to insist upon the particular +meaning which they appear to myself to bear, but merely on their actual +and demonstrable agreeableness, so that, in the present case, while I +assert positively, and have no fear of being able to prove, that a curve +of any kind is more beautiful than a right line, I leave it to the +reader to accept or not, as he pleases, that reason of its +agreeableness, which is the only one that I can at all trace, namely, +that every curve divides itself infinitely by its changes of direction.</p> + +<p>That all forms of acknowledged beauty are composed exclusively of curves +will, I believe, be at once allowed; but that which there will be need +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p15">§ 15. How constant in external nature.</a></span>more especially to prove, is the +subtilty and constancy of curvature in all natural forms whatsoever. I +believe that, except in crystals, in certain mountain forms admitted for +the sake of sublimity or contrast, (as in the slope of debris,) in rays +of light, in the levels of calm water and alluvial land, and in some few +organic developments, there are no lines nor surfaces of nature without +curvature, though as we before saw in clouds, more especially in their +under lines towards the horizon, and in vast and extended plains, right +lines are often suggested which are not actual. Without these we could +not be sensible of the value of the contrasting curves, and while, +therefore, for the most part, the eye is fed in natural forms with a +grace of curvature which no hand nor instrument can follow, other means +are provided to give beauty to those surfaces which are admitted for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page047"></a>[Page 47]</span> contrast, as in water by its reflection of the gradations +which it possesses not itself. In freshly-broken ground, which nature +has not yet had time to model, in quarries and pits which are none of +her cutting, in those convulsions and evidences of convulsion, of whose +influence on ideal landscape I shall presently have occasion to speak, +and generally in all ruin and disease, and interference of one order of +being with another, (as in the cattle line of park trees,) the curves +vanish, and violently opposed or broken and unmeaning lines take their +place.</p> + +<p>What curvature is to lines, gradation is to shades and colors. It is +<i>there</i> infinity, and divides them into an infinite number of degrees. +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p16">§ 16. The beauty of gradation.</a></span>Absolutely, without gradation no natural +surface can possibly be, except under circumstances of so rare +conjunction as to amount to a lusus naturę; for we have seen that few +surfaces are without curvature, and every curved surface must be +gradated by the nature of light, which is most intense when it impinges +at the highest angle, and for the gradation of the few plane surfaces +that exist, means are provided in local color, aerial perspective, +reflected lights, etc., from which it is but barely conceivable that +they should ever escape. Hence for instances of the complete absence of +gradation we must look to man's work, or to his disease and decrepitude. +Compare the gradated colors of the rainbow with the stripes of a target, +and the gradual concentration of the youthful blood in the cheek with an +abrupt patch of rouge, or with the sharply drawn veining of old age.</p> + +<p>Gradation is so inseparable a quality of all natural shade and color +that the eye refuses in art to understand anything as either, which +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p17">§ 17. How found in Nature.</a></span>appears without it, while on the other hand +nearly all the gradations of nature are so subtile and between degrees +of tint so slightly separated, that no human hand can in any wise equal, +or do anything more than suggest the idea of them. In proportion to the +space over which gradation extends, and to its invisible subtilty, is +its grandeur, and in proportion to its narrow limits and violent +degrees, its vulgarity. In Correggio, it is morbid and vulgar in spite +of its refinement of execution, because the eye is drawn to it, and it +is made the most observable and characteristic part of the picture; +whereas natural gradation is forever escaping <span class="pagenum"><a name="page048"></a>[Page 48]</span> observation to +that degree that the greater part of artists in working from nature see +it not, (except in certain of its marked developments,) but either lay +down such continuous lines and colors, as are both disagreeable and +impossible, or, receiving the necessity of gradation as a principle +instead of a fact, use it in violently exaggerated measure, and so lose +both the dignity of their own work, and by the constant dwelling of +their eyes upon exaggerations, their sensibility to that of the natural +forms. So that we find the majority of painters divided between the two +evil extremes of insufficiency and affectation, and only a few of the +greatest men capable of making gradation constant and yet extended over +enormous spaces and within degrees of narrow difference, as in the body +of a high light.</p> + +<p>From the necessity of gradation results what is commonly given as a rule +of art, though its authority as a rule obtains only from its being a +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p18">§ 18. How necessary in Art.</a></span>fact of nature, that the extremes of high +light and pure color, can exist only in points. The common rules +respecting sixths and eighths, held concerning light and shade, are +entirely absurd and conventional; according to the subject and the +effect of light, the greater part of the picture will be or ought to be +light or dark; but that principle which is not conventional, is that of +all light, however high, there is some part that is higher than the +rest, and that of all color, however pure, there is some part that is +purer than the rest, and that generally of all shade, however deep, +there is some part deeper than the rest, though this last fact is +frequently sacrificed in art, owing to the narrowness of its means. But +on the right gradation or focussing of light and color depends in great +measure, the value of both. Of this, I have spoken sufficiently in +pointing out the singular constancy of it in the works of Turner. Part +II. Sect. II. Chap. II. § 17. And it is generally to be observed that +even raw and valueless color, if rightly and subtilely gradated will in +some measure stand for light, and that the most transparent and perfect +hue will be in some measure unsatisfactory, if entirely unvaried. I +believe the early skies of Raffaelle owe their luminousness more to +their untraceable and subtile gradation than to inherent quality of hue.</p> + +<p>Such are the expressions of infinity which we find in creation, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page049"></a>[Page +49]</span> of which the importance is to be estimated, rather by their <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c5p19">§ 19. +Infinity not rightly implied by vastness.</a></span>frequency than their +distinctness. Let, however, the reader bear constantly in mind that I +insist not on his accepting any interpretation of mine, but only on his +dwelling so long on those objects, which he perceives to be beautiful, +as to determine whether the qualities to which I trace their beauty, be +necessarily there or no. Farther expressions of infinity there are in +the mystery of nature, and in some measure in her vastness, but these +are dependent on our own imperfections, and therefore, though they +produce sublimity, they are unconnected with beauty. For that which we +foolishly call vastness is, rightly considered, not more wonderful, not +more impressive, than that which we insolently call littleness, and the +infinity of God is not mysterious, it is only unfathomable, not +concealed, but incomprehensible: it is a clear infinity, the darkness of +the pure unsearchable sea.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_13" href="#FnAnchor_13">[13]</a> In one of the smaller rooms of the Pitti palace, over the door, is +a temptation of St. Anthony, by Salvator, wherein such power as the +artist possessed is fully manifested, with little, comparatively, that +is offensive. It is a vigorous and ghastly thought, in that kind of +horror which is dependent on scenic effect, perhaps unrivalled, and I +shall have occasion to refer to it again in speaking of the powers of +imagination. I allude to it here, because the sky of the distance +affords a remarkable instance of the power of light at present under +discussion. It is formed of flakes of black cloud, with rents and +openings of intense and lurid green, and at least half of the +impressiveness of the picture depends on these openings. Close them, +make the sky one mass of gloom, and the spectre will be awful no longer. +It owes to the light of the distance both its size and its spirituality. +The time would fail me if I were to name the tenth part of the pictures +which occur to me, whose vulgarity is redeemed by this circumstance +alone, and yet let not the artist trust to such morbid and conventional +use of it as may be seen in the common blue and yellow effectism of the +present day. Of the value of moderation and simplicity in the use of +this, as of all other sources of pleasurable emotion, I shall presently +have occasion to speak farther.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page050"></a>[Page 50]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + +<h5>OF UNITY, OR THE TYPE OF THE DIVINE COMPREHENSIVENESS.</h5> + +<p>"All things," says Hooker, "(God only excepted,) besides the nature +which they have in themselves, receive externally some perfection from +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p1">§ 1. The general conception of divine Unity.</a></span>other things." Hence the +appearance of separation or isolation in anything, and of +self-dependence, is an appearance of imperfection: and all appearances +of connection and brotherhood are pleasant and right, both as +significative of perfection in the things united, and as typical of that +Unity which we attribute to God, and of which our true conception is +rightly explained and limited by Dr. Brown in his XCII. lecture; that +Unity which consists not in his own singleness or separation, but in the +necessity of his inherence in all things that be, without which no +creature of any kind could hold existence for a moment. Which necessity +of Divine essence I think it better to speak of as comprehensiveness, +than as unity, because unity is often understood in the sense of oneness +or singleness, instead of universality, whereas the only Unity which by +any means can become grateful or an object of hope to men, and whose +types therefore in material things can be beautiful, is that on which +turned the last words and prayer of Christ before his crossing of the +Kidron brook. "Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which +shall believe on me through their word. That they all may be one, as +thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee."</p> + +<p>And so there is not any matter, nor any spirit, nor any creature, but it +is capable of an unity of some kind with other creatures, and in that +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p2">§ 2. The glory of all things is their Unity.</a></span>unity is its perfection and +theirs, and a pleasure also for the beholding of all other creatures +that can behold. So the unity of spirits is partly in their sympathy, +and partly in their giving and taking, and always in their love; and +these are their delight <span class="pagenum"><a name="page051"></a>[Page 51]</span> and their strength, for their strength +is in their co-working and army fellowship, and their delight is in the +giving and receiving of alternate and perpetual currents of good, their +inseparable dependency on each other's being, and their essential and +perfect depending on their Creator's: and so the unity of earthly +creatures is their power and their peace, not like the dead and cold +peace of undisturbed stones and solitary mountains, but the living peace +of trust, and the living power of support, of hands that hold each other +and are still: and so the unity of matter is, in its noblest form, the +organization of it which builds it up into temples for the spirit, and +in its lower form, the sweet and strange affinity, which gives to it the +glory of its orderly elements, and the fair variety of change and +assimilation that turns the dust into the crystal, and separates the +waters that be above the firmament from the waters that be beneath, and +in its lowest form; it is the working and walking and clinging together +that gives their power to the winds, and its syllables and soundings to +the air, and their weight to the waves, and their burning to the +sunbeams, and their stability to the mountains, and to every creature +whatsoever operation is for its glory and for others good.</p> + +<p>Now of that which is thus necessary to the perfection of all things, +all appearance, sign, type, or suggestion must be beautiful, in whatever +matter it may appear. And so to the perfection of beauty in lines, or +colors, or forms, or masses, or multitudes, the appearance of some +species of unity is in the most determined sense of the word essential.</p> + +<p>But of the appearances of unity, as of unity itself, there are several +kinds which it will be found hereafter convenient to consider <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p3">§ 3. The +several kinds of unity. Subjectional. Original. Of sequence, and of +membership.</a></span>separately. Thus there is the unity of different and separate +things, subjected to one and the same influence, which may be called +subjectional unity, and this is the unity of the clouds, as they are +driven by the parallel winds, or as they are ordered by the electric +currents, and this the unity of the sea waves, and this of the bending +and undulation of the forest masses, and in creatures capable of will it +is the unity of will or of inspiration. And there is unity of origin, +which we may call original unity, which is of things arising from one +spring and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page052"></a>[Page 52]</span> source, and speaking always of this their +brotherhood, and this in matter is the unity of the branches of the +trees, and of the petals and starry rays of flowers, and of the beams of +light, and in spiritual creatures it is their filial relation to Him +from whom they have their being. And there is unity of sequence, which +is that of things that form links in chains, and steps in ascent, and +stages in journeys, and this, in matter, is the unity of communicable +forces in their continuance from one thing to another, and it is the +passing upwards and downwards of beneficent effects among all things, +and it is the melody of sounds, and the beauty of continuous lines, and +the orderly succession of motions and times. And in spiritual creatures +it is their own constant building up by true knowledge and continuous +reasoning to higher perfection, and the singleness and +straight-forwardness of their tendencies to more complete communion with +God. And there is the unity of membership, which we may call essential +unity, which is the unity of things separately imperfect into a perfect +whole, and this is the great unity of which other unities are but parts +and means, it is in matter the harmony of sounds and consistency of +bodies, and among spiritual creatures, their love and happiness and very +life in God.</p> + +<p>Now of the nature of this last kind of unity, the most important whether +in moral or in those material things with which we are at present <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p4">§ 4. +Unity of membership. How secured.</a></span>concerned, there is this necessary to +be observed, that it cannot exist between things similar to each other. +Two or more equal and like things cannot be members one of another, nor +can they form one, or a whole thing. Two they must remain, both in +nature and in our conception, so long as they remain alike, unless they +are united by a third different from both. Thus the arms, which are like +each other, remain two arms in our conception. They could not be united +by a third arm, they must be united by something which is not an arm, +and which, imperfect without them as they without it, shall form one +perfect body; nor is unity even thus accomplished, without a difference +and opposition of direction in the setting on of the like members. +Therefore among all things which are to have unity of membership one +with another, there must be difference or variety; and though it is +possible that many like things may be <span class="pagenum"><a name="page053"></a>[Page 53]</span> made members of one +body, yet it is remarkable that this structure appears characteristic of +the lower creatures, rather than the higher, as the many legs of the +caterpillar, and the many arms and suckers of the radiata, and that, as +we rise in order of being, the number of similar members becomes less, +and their structure commonly seems based on the principle of the unity +of two things by a third, as Plato has it in the Timęus, § II.</p> + +<p>Hence, out of the necessity of unity, arises that of variety, a +necessity often more vividly, though never so deeply felt, because lying +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p5">§ 5. Variety. Why required.</a></span>at the surfaces of things, and assisted by an +influential principle of our nature, the love of change, and the power +of contrast. But it is a mistake which has led to many unfortunate +results, in matters respecting art, to insist on any inherent +agreeableness of variety, without reference to a farther end. For it is +not even true that variety as such, and in its highest degree, is +beautiful. A patched garment of many colors is by no means so agreeable +as one of a single and continuous hue; the splendid colors of many birds +are eminently painful from their violent separation and inordinate +variety, while the pure and colorless swan is, under certain +circumstances, the most beautiful of all feathered creatures.<a name="FnAnchor_14" href="#Footnote_14"><sup>[14]</sup></a> A +forest of all manner of trees is poor, if not disagreeable in +effect,<a name="FnAnchor_15" href="#Footnote_15"><sup>[15]</sup></a> a mass of one species of tree is sublime. It is therefore +only harmonious and chordal variety, that variety which is necessary to +secure and extend unity, (for the greater the number of objects, which +by their differences become members of one another, the more extended +and sublime is their unity,) which is rightly agreeable, and so I name +not variety as essential to beauty, because it is only so in a secondary +and casual sense.<a name="FnAnchor_16" href="#Footnote_16"><sup>[16]</sup></a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page054"></a>[Page 54]</span></p> + +<p>Of the love of change as a principle of human nature, and the +pleasantness of variety resulting from it, something has already been +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p6">§ 6. Change, and its influence on beauty.</a></span>said, (<a href="#s1c4p4">Ch. IV. § 4</a>,) only as +there I was opposing the idea that our being familiar with objects was +the cause of our delight in them, so here, I have to oppose the contrary +position, that their strangeness is the cause of it. For neither +familiarity nor strangeness have more operation on, or connection with, +impressions of one sense than of another, and they have less power over +the impressions of sense generally, than over the intellect in its +joyful accepting of fresh knowledge, and dull contemplation of that it +has long possessed. Only in their operation on the senses they act +contrarily at different times, as for instance the newness of a dress or +of some kind of unaccustomed food may make it for a time delightful, but +as the novelty passes away, so also may the delight, yielding to +disgust or indifference, which in their turn, as custom begins to +operate, may pass into affection and craving, and that which was first a +luxury, and then a matter of indifference, becomes a necessity:<a name="FnAnchor_17" href="#Footnote_17"><sup>[17]</sup></a> +whereas in subjects of the intellect, the chief delight they convey is +dependent upon their being newly and vividly comprehended, and as they +become subjects of contemplation they lose their value, and become +tasteless and unregarded, except as instruments for the reaching of +others, only that though they sink down into the shadowy, effectless, +heap of things indifferent, which we pack, and crush down, and stand +upon, to reach things new, they sparkle afresh at intervals as we stir +them by throwing a new stone into the heap, and letting the newly +admitted lights play upon them. And both in subjects of the intellect +and the senses it is to be remembered, that the love of change is a +weakness and imperfection of our nature, and implies in it the state of +probation, and that it is to teach us that things about us here are not +meant for our continual possession or satisfaction, that ever such +passion of change was put <span class="pagenum"><a name="page055"></a>[Page 55]</span> in us as that "custom lies upon us +with a weight, heavy as frost, and deep almost as life," and only such +weak back and baby grasp given to our intellect as that "the best things +we do are painful, and the exercise of them grievous, being continued +without intermission, so as in those very actions whereby we are +especially perfected in this <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p7">§ 7. The love of change. How morbid and +evil.</a></span>life we are not able to persist." And so it will be found that they +are the weakest-minded and the hardest-hearted men that most love +variety and change, for the weakest-minded are those who both wonder +most at things new, and digest worst things old, in so far that +everything they have lies rusty, and loses lustre for want of use; +neither do they make any stir among their possessions, nor look over +them to see what may be made of them, nor keep any great store, nor are +householders with storehouses of things new and old, but they catch at +the new-fashioned garments, and let the moth and thief look after the +rest; and the hardest-hearted men are those that least feel the +endearing and binding power of custom, and hold on by no cords of +affection to any shore, but drive with the waves that cast up mire and +dirt. And certainly it is not to be held that the perception of beauty +and desire of it, are greatest in the hardest heart and weakest brain; +but the love of variety is so, and therefore variety can be no cause of +the beautiful, except, as I have said, when it is necessary for the +perception of unity, neither is there any better test of that which is +indeed beautiful than its surviving or annihilating the love of change; +and this is a test which the best judges of art have need frequently to +use; and the wisest of them will use it always, for there is much in art +that surprises by its brilliancy, or attracts by its singularity, that +can hardly but by course of time, though assuredly it will by course of +time, be winnowed away from the right and real beauty whose retentive +power is forever on the increase, a bread of the soul for which the +hunger is continual.</p> + +<p>Receiving, therefore, variety only as that which accomplishes unity, or +makes it perceived, its operation is found to be very precious, both in +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p8">§ 8. The conducting of variety towards unity of subjection.</a></span>that which I +have called unity of subjection, and unity of sequence, as well as in +unity of membership; for although things in all respects the same may, +indeed, be subjected <span class="pagenum"><a name="page056"></a>[Page 56]</span> to one influence, yet the power of the +influence, and their obedience to it, is best seen by varied operation +of it on their individual differences, as in clouds and waves there is +a glorious unity of rolling, wrought out by the wild and wonderful +differences of their absolute forms, which, if taken away, would leave +in them only multitudinous and petty repetition, instead of the majestic +oneness of shared passion. And so in the waves and clouds of human +multitude when they are filled with one thought, as we find frequently +in the works of the early Italian men of earnest purpose, who despising, +or happily ignorant of, the sophistications of theories, and the +proprieties of composition, indicated by perfect similarity of action +and gesture on the one hand, and by the infinite and truthful variation +of expression on the other, the most sublime strength because the most +absorbing unity, of multitudinous passion that ever human heart +conceived. Hence, in the cloister of St. Mark's, the intense, fixed, +statue-like silence of ineffable adoration upon the spirits in prison at +the feet of Christ, side by side, the hands lifted, and the knees bowed, +and the lips trembling together;<a name="FnAnchor_18" href="#Footnote_18"><sup>[18]</sup></a> and in St. Domenico of Fiesole,<a name="FnAnchor_19" href="#Footnote_19"><sup>[19]</sup></a> +that whirlwind rush of the Angels and the redeemed souls round about him +at his resurrection, so that we hear the blast of the horizontal +trumpets mixed with the dying clangor of their ingathered wings. The +same great feeling occurs throughout the works of the serious men, +though most intensely in Angelico, and it is well to compare with it the +vileness and falseness of all that succeeded, when men had begun to +bring to the cross foot their systems instead of their sorrow. Take as +the most marked and degraded instance, perhaps, to be anywhere found, +Bronzino's treatment of the same subject (Christ visiting the spirits in +prison,) in the picture now in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page057"></a>[Page 57]</span> Tuscan room of the Uffizii, +which, vile as it is in color, vacant in invention, void in light and +shade, a heap of cumbrous nothingnesses, and sickening offensivenesses, +is of all its voids most void in this, that the academy models therein +huddled together at the bottom, show not so much unity or community of +attention to the academy model with the flag in its hand above, as a +street crowd would be to a fresh-staged charlatan. Some <i>point</i> to the +God who has burst the gates of death, as if the rest were incapable of +distinguishing him for themselves, and others turn their backs upon him, +to show their unagitated faces to the spectator.</p> + +<p>In unity of sequence, the effect of variety is best exemplified by the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p9">§ 9. And towards unity of sequence.</a></span>melodies of music, wherein by the +differences of the notes, they are connected with each other in certain +pleasant relations. This connection taking place in quantities is +proportion, respecting which certain general principles must be noted, +as the subject is one open to many errors, and obscurely treated of by +writers on art.</p> + +<p>Proportion is of two distinct kinds. Apparent: when it takes place +between qualities for the sake of connection only, without any ultimate +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p10">§ 10. The nature of proportion. 1st, of apparent proportion.</a></span>object or +casual necessity; and constructive: when it has reference to some +function to be discharged by the quantities, depending on their +proportion. From the confusion of these two kinds of proportion have +arisen the greater part of the erroneous conceptions of the influence of +either.</p> + +<p>Apparent proportion, or the sensible relation of quantities, is one of +the most important means of obtaining unity between things which +otherwise must have remained distinct in similarity, and as it may +consist with every other kind of unity, and persist when every other +means of it fails, it may be considered as lying at the root of most of +our impressions of the beautiful. There is no sense of rightness, or +wrongness connected with it, no sense of utility, propriety, or +expediency. These ideas enter only where the proportion of quantities +has reference to some function to be performed by them. It cannot be +asserted that it is right or that it is wrong that A should be to B, as +B to C; unless A, B, and C have some desirable operation dependent on +that relation. But nevertheless it may be highly agreeable to <span class="pagenum"><a name="page058"></a>[Page 58]</span> +the eye that A, B, and C, if visible things, should have visible +connection of ratio, even though nothing be accomplished by such +connection. On the other hand, constructive proportion, or the +adaptation of quantities to functions, is agreeable not to the eye, but +to the mind, which is cognizant of the function to be performed. Thus +the pleasantness or rightness of the proportions of a column depends not +on the mere relation of diameter and height, (which is not proportion at +all, for proportion is between three terms at least,) but on three other +involved terms, the strength of materials, the weight to be borne, and +the scale of the building. The proportions of a wooden column are wrong +in a stone one, and of a small building wrong in a large one,<a name="FnAnchor_20" href="#Footnote_20"><sup>[20]</sup></a> and +this owing solely to mechanical considerations, which <span class="pagenum"><a name="page059"></a>[Page 59]</span> have no +more to do with ideas of beauty, than the relation between the arms of a +lever, adapted to the raising of a given weight; and yet it is highly +agreeable to perceive that such constructive <span class="pagenum"><a name="page060"></a>[Page 60]</span> proportion has +been duly observed, as it is agreeable to see that anything is fit for +its purpose or for ours, and also that it has been the result of +intelligence in the workman of it, so that we sometimes feel a pleasure +in apparent non-adaptation, if it be a sign of ingenuity; as in the +unnatural and seemingly impossible lightness of Gothic spires and roofs.</p> + +<p>Now, the errors against which I would caution the reader in this matter +are three. The first, is the overlooking or denial of the power of +apparent proportion, of which power neither Burke nor any other writer +whose works I have met with, take cognizance. The second, is the +attribution of <i>beauty</i> to the appearances of constructive proportion. +The third, the denial with Burke of <i>any</i> value or agreeableness in +constructive proportion.</p> + +<p>Now, the full proof of the influence of apparent proportion, I must +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p11">§ 11. The value of apparent proportion in curvature.</a></span>reserve for +illustration by diagram; one or two instances however may be given at +present for the better understanding of its nature.</p> + +<p>We have already asserted that all curves are more beautiful than right +lines. All curves, however, are not equally beautiful, and their +differences of beauty depend on the different proportions borne to each +other by those infinitely small right lines of which they may be +conceived as composed.</p> + +<p>When these lines are equal and contain equal angles, there can be no +connection or unity of sequence in them. The resulting curve, the +circle, is therefore the least beautiful of all curves.</p> + +<p>When the lines bear to each other some certain proportion; or when, the +lines remaining equal, the angles vary; or when by any means whatsoever, +and in whatever complicated modes, such differences as shall imply +connection are established between the infinitely small segments, the +resulting curves become beautiful. The simplest of the beautiful curves +are the conic, and the various spirals; but it is as rash as it is +difficult to endeavor to trace any ground of superiority or inferiority +among the infinite numbers of the higher curves. I believe that almost +all are beautiful in their own nature, and that their comparative beauty +depends on the constant quantities involved in their equations. Of this +point I shall speak hereafter at greater length.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page061"></a>[Page 61]</span></p> + +<p>The universal forces of nature, and the individual energies of the +matter submitted to them, are so appointed and balanced, that they are +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p12">§ 12. How by nature obtained.</a></span>continually bringing out curves of this +kind in all visible forms, and that circular lines become nearly +impossible under any circumstances. The gradual acceleration, for +instance, of velocity, in streams that descend from hill-sides, as it +gradually increases their power of erosion increases in the same gradual +degree the rate of curvature in the descent of the slope, until at a +certain degree of steepness this descent meets, and is concealed by the +right line of the detritus. The junction of this right line with the +plain is again modified by the farther bounding of the larger blocks, +and by the successively diminishing proportion of landslips caused by +erosion at the bottom, so that the whole line of the hill is one of +curvature, first, gradually increasing in rapidity to the maximum +steepness of which the particular rock is capable, and then decreasing +in a decreasing ratio, until it arrives at the plain level. This type of +form, modified of course more or less by the original boldness of the +mountain, and dependent both on its age, its constituent rock, and the +circumstances of its exposure, is yet in its general formula applicable +to all. So the curves of all things in motion, and of all organic forms, +most rudely and simply in the shell spirals, and in their most +complicated development in the muscular lines of the higher animals.</p> + +<p>This influence of apparent proportion, a proportion, be it observed, +which has no reference to ultimate ends, but which is itself, seemingly, +the end and object of operation in many of the forces of nature, is +therefore at the root of all our delight in any beautiful form +whatsoever. For no form can be beautiful which is not composed of curves +whose unity is secured by relations of this kind.</p> + +<p>Not only however in curvature, but in all associations of lines +whatsoever, it is desirable that there should be reciprocal relation, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p13">§ 13. Apparent proportion in melodies of line.</a></span>and the eye is unhappy +without perception of it. It is utterly vain to endeavor to reduce this +proportion to finite rules, for it is as various as musical melody, and +the laws to which it is subject are of the same general kind, so that +the determination of right or wrong <span class="pagenum"><a name="page062"></a>[Page 62]</span> proportion is as much a +matter of feeling and experience as the appreciation of good musical +composition; not but that there is a science of both, and principles +which may not be infringed, but that within these limits the liberty of +invention is infinite, and the degrees of excellence infinite also, +whence the curious error of Burke in imagining that because he could not +fix upon some one given proportion of lines as better than any other, +therefore proportion had no value nor influence at all, which is the +same as to conclude that there is no such thing as melody in music, +because there are melodies more than one.</p> + +<p>The argument of Burke on this subject is summed up in the following +words:—"Examine the head of a beautiful horse, find what proportion +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p14">§ 14. Error of Burke in this matter.</a></span>that bears to his body and to his +limbs, and what relations these have to each other, and when you have +settled these proportions, as a standard of beauty, then take a dog or +cat, or any other animal, and examine how far the same proportions +between their heads and their necks, between those and the body, and so +on, are found to hold; I think we may safely say, that they differ in +every species, yet that there are individuals found in a great many +species, so differing, that have a very striking beauty. Now if it be +allowed that very different, and even contrary forms and dispositions, +are consistent with beauty, it amounts, I believe, to a concession, that +no certain measures operating from a natural principle are necessary to +produce it, at least so far as the brute species is concerned."</p> + +<p>In this argument there are three very palpable fallacies: the first is +the rough application of measurement to the heads, necks, and limbs, +without observing the subtile differences of proportion and position of +parts in the members themselves, for it would be strange if the +different adjustment of the ears and brow in the dog and horse, did not +require a harmonizing difference of adjustment in the head and neck. The +second fallacy is that above specified, the supposition that proportion +cannot be beautiful if susceptible of variation, whereas the whole +meaning of the term has reference to the adjustment and functional +correspondence of infinitely variable quantities. And the third error is +the oversight of the very important fact, that, although "different and +even contrary forms and dispositions <span class="pagenum"><a name="page063"></a>[Page 63]</span> are consistent with +beauty," they are by no means consistent with equal <i>degrees</i> of beauty, +so that, while we find in all the presence of such proportion and +harmony of form, as gifts them with positive agreeableness consistent +with the station and dignity of each, we perceive, also, such +superiority of proportion in some (as the horse, eagle, lion, and man +for instance) as may best be in harmony with the nobler functions and +more exalted powers of the animals.</p> + +<p>And this allowed superiority of some animal forms to others is, in +itself argument against the second error above named, that of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p15">§ 15. +Constructive proportion. Its influence in plants.</a></span>attributing the +sensation of beauty to the perception of expedient or constructive +proportion. For everything that God has made is equally well constructed +with reference to its intended functions. But all things are not equally +beautiful. The megatherium is absolutely as well proportioned, with the +view of adaptation of parts to purposes, as the horse or the swan; but +by no means so handsome as either. The fact is, that the perception of +expediency of proportion can but rarely affect our estimates of beauty, +for it implies a knowledge which we very rarely and imperfectly possess, +and the want of which we tacitly acknowledge.</p> + +<p>Let us consider that instance of the proportion of the stalk of a plant +to its head, given by Burke. In order to judge of the expediency of this +proportion, we must know, First, the scale of the plant (for the smaller +the scale, the longer the stem may safely be). Secondly, the toughness +of the materials of the stem and the mode of their mechanical structure. +Thirdly, the specific gravity of the head. Fourthly, the position of the +head which the nature of fructification requires. Fifthly, the accidents +and influences to which the situation for which the plant was created is +exposed. Until we know all this, we cannot say that proportion or +disproportion exists, and because we cannot know all this, the idea of +expedient proportion enters but slightly into our impression of +vegetable beauty, but rather, since the existence of the plant proves +that these proportions have been observed, and we know that nothing but +our own ignorance prevents us from perceiving them, we take the +proportion on credit, and are delighted by the variety of results <span class="pagenum"><a name="page064"></a>[Page +64]</span> which the Divine intelligence has attained in the various +involutions of these quantities, and perhaps most when, to outward +appearance, such proportions have been violated; more by the slenderness +of the campanula than the security of the pine.</p> + +<p>What is obscure in plants, is utterly incomprehensible in animals, owing +to the greater number of means employed and functions performed. To +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p16">§ 16. And animals.</a></span>judge of expedient proportion in them, we must know +all that each member has to do, all its bones, all its muscles, and the +amount of nervous energy communicable to them; and yet, forasmuch as we +have more experience and instinctive sense of the strength of muscles +than of wood, and more practical knowledge of the use of a head or a +foot than of a flower or a stem, we are much more likely to presume upon +our judgment respecting proportions here, we are very apt to assert that +the plesiosaurus and camelopard have necks too long, that the turnspit +has legs too short, and the elephant a body too ponderous.</p> + +<p>But the painfulness arising from the idea of this being the case is +occasioned partly by our sympathy with the animal, partly by our false +apprehension of incompletion in the Divine work,<a name="FnAnchor_21" href="#Footnote_21"><sup>[21]</sup></a> nor in either case +has it any connection with impressions of that typical beauty of which +we are at present speaking; though some, perhaps, with that vital beauty +which will hereafter come under discussion.</p> + +<p>I wish therefore the reader to hold, respecting proportion generally. +First, That apparent proportion, or the melodious connection of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c6p17">§ 17. +Summary.</a></span>quantities, is a cause of unity, and therefore one of the +sources of all beautiful form. Secondly, That constructive proportion is +agreeable to the mind when it is known or supposed, and that its seeming +absence is painful in a like degree, but that this pleasure and pain +have nothing in common with those dependent on ideas of beauty.</p> + +<p>Farther illustrations of the value of unity I shall reserve for our +detailed examination, as the bringing them forward here would interfere +with the general idea of the subject-matter of the theoretic faculty +which I wish succinctly to convey.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_14" href="#FnAnchor_14">[14]</a> Compare <a href="#s1c9p5">Chap. ix. § 5</a>, note.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_15" href="#FnAnchor_15">[15]</a> Spenser's various forest is the Forest of Error.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_16" href="#FnAnchor_16">[16]</a> It must be matter of no small wonderment to practical men to +observe how grossly the nature and connection of unity and variety have +been misunderstood and misstated, by those writers upon taste, who have +been guided by no experience of art; most singularly perhaps by Mr. +Alison, who, confounding unity with uniformity, and leading his readers +through thirty pages of discussion respecting uniformity and variety, +the intelligibility of which is not by any means increased by his +supposing uniformity to be capable of existence in single things; at +last substitutes for these two terms, sufficiently contradictory +already, those of similarity and dissimilarity, the reconciliation of +which opposites in one thing we must, I believe, leave Mr. Alison to +accomplish.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_17" href="#FnAnchor_17">[17]</a> +<span class="grk" title="Kai to tauta prattein pollakis hźdy;—to gar synźthes hźdy +źn; kai to metaballein hźdy; eis physin gar gignetai metaballein."> +Καὶ τὸ ταὐτὰ πράττείν +πολλάκις ήδὺ`—τὸ γὰρ +σύνηθες ᾑδὺ ᾒν` καὶ +τὀ μετα βάλλειν ᾑδύ` +εις φυδιν γὰρ γίγεται +μεταβάλλειν.</span>—Arist. Rhet. I. II. 20.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_18" href="#FnAnchor_18">[18]</a> Fra Angelico's fresco, in a cell of the upper cloister. He treated +the subject frequently. Another characteristic example occurs in the +Vita di Christo of the Academy, a series now unfortunately destroyed by +the picture cleaners. Simon Memmi in Santa Maria Novella (Chapelle des +Espagnols) has given another very beautiful instance. In Giotto the +principle is universal, though his multitudes are somewhat more +dramatically and powerfully varied in gesture than Angelico's. In Mino +da Fiesole's altar-piece in the church of St. Ambrogiot at Florence, +close by Cosimo Rosselli's fresco, there is a beautiful example in +marble.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_19" href="#FnAnchor_19">[19]</a> The Predella of the picture behind the altar.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_20" href="#FnAnchor_20">[20]</a> It seems never to have been rightly understood, even by the more +intelligent among our architects, that proportion is in any way +connected with positive size; it seems to be held among them that a +small building may be expanded to a large one merely by proportionally +expanding all its parts: and that the harmony will be equally agreeable +on whatever scale it be rendered. Now this is true of apparent +proportion, but utterly false of constructive; and, as much of the value +of architectural proportion is constructive, the error is often +productive of the most painful results. It may be best illustrated by +observing the conditions of proportion in animals. Many persons have +thoughtlessly claimed admiration for the strength—supposed gigantic—of +insects and smaller animals; because capable of lifting weights, leaping +distances, and surmounting obstacles, of proportion apparently +overwhelming. Thus the Formica Herculanea will lift in its mouth, and +brandish like a baton, sticks thicker than itself and six times its +length, all the while scrambling over crags of about the proportionate +height of the Cliffs of Dover, three or four in a minute. There is +nothing extraordinary in this, nor any exertion of strength necessarily +greater than human, in proportion to the size of the body. For it is +evident that if the size and strength of any creature be expanded or +diminished in proportion to each other, the distance through which it +can leap, the time it can maintain exertion, or any other third term +resultant, remains constant; that is, diminish weight of powder and of +ball proportionately, and the distance carried is constant or nearly so. +Thus, a grasshopper, a man, and a giant 100 feet high, supposing their +muscular strength equally proportioned to their size, can or could all +leap, not proportionate distance, but the same or nearly the same +distance—say, four feet the grasshopper, or forty-eight times his +length; six feet the man or his length exactly; ten feet the giant or +the tenth of his length. Hence all small animals can, <i>cœteris +paribus</i>, perform feats of strength and agility, exactly so much greater +than those to be executed by large ones, as the animals themselves are +smaller; and to enable an elephant to leap like a grasshopper, he must +be endowed with strength a million times greater in <i>proportion</i> to his +size. Now the consequence of this general mechanical law is, that as we +increase the scale of animals, their means of power, whether muscles of +motion or bones of support, must be increased in a more than +proportionate degree, or they become utterly unwieldy, and incapable of +motion;—and there is a limit to this increase of strength. If the +elephant had legs as long as a spider's, no combination of animal matter +that could be hide-bound would have strength enough to move them: to +support the megatherium, we must have a humerus a foot in diameter, +though perhaps not more than two feet long, and that in a vertical +position under him, while the gnat can hang on the window frame, and +poise himself to sting, in the middle of crooked stilts like threads; +stretched out to ten times the breadth of his body on each side. +Increase the size of the megatherium a little more, and no phosphate of +lime will bear him; he would crush his own legs to powder. (Compare Sir +Charles Bell, "Bridgewater Treatise on the Hand," p. 296, and the note.) +Hence there is not only a limit to the size of animals, in the +conditions of matter, but to their activity also, the largest being +always least capable of exertion; and this would be the case to a far +greater extent, but that nature beneficently alters her proportions as +she increases her scale; giving, as we have seen, long legs and enormous +wings to the smaller tribes, and short and thick proportion to the +larger. So in vegetables—compare the stalk of an ear of oat, and the +trunk of a pine, the mechanical relations being in both the same. So +also in waves, of which the large never can be mere exaggerations of the +small, but have different slopes and curvatures: so in mountains and all +things else, necessarily, and from ordinary mechanical laws. Whence in +architecture, according to the scale of the building, its proportions +must be altered; and I have no hesitation in calling that unmeaning +exaggeration of parts in St. Peter's, of flutings, volutes, friezes, +etc., in the proportions of a smaller building, a vulgar blunder, and +one that destroys all the majesty that the building ought to have +had—and still more I should so call all imitations and adaptations of +large buildings on a small scale. The true test of right proportion is +that it shall itself inform us of the scale of the building, and be such +that even in a drawing it shall instantly induce the conception of the +actual size, or size intended. I know not what Fuseli means by that +aphorism of his:—</p> + +<p>"Disproportion of parts is the element of hugeness—proportion, of +grandeur. All Gothic styles of Architecture are huge. The Greek alone is +grand." When a building <i>is</i> vast, it ought to look so; and the +proportion is right which exhibits its vastness. Nature loses no size by +her proportion; her buttressed mountains have more of Gothic than of +Greek in them.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_21" href="#FnAnchor_21">[21]</a> For the just and severe reproof of which, compare Sir Charles Bell, +(on the hand,) pp. 31, 32.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page065"></a>[Page 65]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + +<h5>OF REPOSE, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE PERMANENCE.</h5> + +<p>There is probably no necessity more imperatively felt by the artist, no +test more unfailing of the greatness of artistical treatment, than that +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c7p1">§ 1. Universal feeling respecting the necessity of repose in art. Its +sources.</a></span>of the appearance of repose, and yet there is no quality whose +semblance in mere matter is more difficult to define or illustrate. +Nevertheless, I believe that our instinctive love of it, as well as the +cause to which I attribute that love, (although here also, as in the +former cases, I contend not for the interpretation, but for the fact,) +will be readily allowed by the reader. As opposed to passion, +changefulness, or laborious exertion, repose is the especial and +separating characteristic of the eternal mind and power; it is the "I +am" of the Creator opposed to the "I become" of all creatures; it is the +sign alike of the supreme knowledge which is incapable of surprise, the +supreme power which is incapable of labor, the supreme volition which is +incapable of change; it is the stillness of the beams of the eternal +chambers laid upon the variable waters of ministering creatures; and as +we saw before that the infinity which was a type of the Divine nature on +the one hand, became yet more desirable on the other from its peculiar +address to our prison hopes, and to the expectations of an unsatisfied +and unaccomplished existence, so the types of this third attribute of +the Deity might seem to have been rendered farther attractive to mortal +instinct, through the infliction upon the fallen creature of a curse +necessitating a labor once unnatural and still most painful, so that the +desire of rest planted in the heart is no sensual nor unworthy one, but +a longing for renovation and for escape from a state whose every phase +is mere preparation for another equally transitory, to one in which +permanence shall have become possible through perfection. Hence the +great call of Christ to men, that call on which St. Augustine fixed +essential expression of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page066"></a>[Page 66]</span> Christian hope, is accompanied by the +promise of rest;<a name="FnAnchor_22" href="#Footnote_22"><sup>[22]</sup></a> and the death bequest of Christ to men is peace.</p> + +<p>Repose, as it is expressed in material things, is either a simple +appearance of permanence and quietness, as in the massy forms of a <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c7p2">§ 2. +Repose how expressed in matter.</a></span>mountain or rock, accompanied by the +lulling effect of all mighty sight and sound, which all feel and none +define, (it would be less sacred if more explicable,) <span class="grk" title="heudousin +dioreōn koruphai te kai pharanges"> +ἒυδουσιν δὶορέων +κορυφαί τε καὶ +φάραγγες,</span> or else it is repose proper, the +rest of things in which there is vitality or capability of motion actual +or imagined; and with respect to these the expression of repose is +greater in proportion to the amount and sublimity of the action which is +not taking place, as well as to the intensity of the negation of it. +Thus we speak not of repose in a stone, because the motion of a stone +has nothing in it of energy nor vitality, neither its repose of +stability. But having once seen a great rock come down a mountain side, +we have a noble sensation of its rest, now bedded immovably among the +under fern, because the power and fearfulness of its motion were great, +and its stability and negation of motion are now great in proportion. +Hence the imagination, which delights in nothing more than the enhancing +of the characters of repose, effects this usually by either attributing +to things visibly energetic an ideal stability, or to things visibly +stable an ideal activity or vitality. Hence Wordsworth, of the cloud, +which in itself having too much of changefulness for his purpose, is +spoken of as one "that heareth not the loud winds when they call, and +moveth altogether, if it move at all." And again of children, which, +that it may remove from them the child restlessness, the imagination +conceives as rooted flowers "Beneath an old gray oak, as violets, lie." +On the other hand, the scattered rocks, which have not, as such, +vitality enough for rest, are gifted with it by the living image: they +"lie couched around us like a flock of sheep."</p> + +<p>Thus, as we saw that unity demanded for its expression what at first +might have seemed its contrary (variety) so repose demands for its <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c7p3">§ 3. +The necessity to repose of an implied energy.</a></span>expression the implied +capability of its opposite, energy, and this even in its lower +manifestations, in rocks and stones and trees. By <span class="pagenum"><a name="page067"></a>[Page 67]</span> comparing +the modes in which the mind is disposed to regard the boughs of a fair +and vigorous tree, motionless in the summer air, with the effect +produced by one of these same boughs hewn square and used for threshold +or lintel, the reader will at once perceive the connection of vitality +with repose, and the part they both bear in beauty.</p> + +<p>But that which in lifeless things ennobles them by seeming to indicate +life, ennobles higher creatures by indicating the exaltation of their +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c7p4">§ 4. Mental repose, how noble.</a></span>earthly vitality into a Divine vitality; +and raising the life of sense into the life of faith—faith, whether we +receive it in the sense of adherence to resolution, obedience to law, +regardfulness of promise, in which from all time it has been the test as +the shield of the true being and life of man, or in the still higher +sense of trustfulness in the presence, kindness, and word of God; in +which form it has been exhibited under the Christian dispensation. For +whether in one or other form, whether the faithfulness of men whose path +is chosen and portion fixed, in the following and receiving of that path +and portion, as in the Thermopylę camp; or the happier faithfulness of +children in the good giving of their Father, and of subjects in the +conduct of their king, as in the "Stand still and see the salvation of +God" of the Red Sea shore, there is rest and peacefulness, the "standing +still" in both, the quietness of action determined, of spirit unalarmed, +of expectation unimpatient: beautiful, even when based only as of old, +on the self-command and self-possession, the persistent dignity or the +uncalculating love of the creature,<a name="FnAnchor_23" href="#Footnote_23"><sup>[23]</sup></a> but more beautiful yet when the +rest is one of humility <span class="pagenum"><a name="page068"></a>[Page 68]</span> instead of pride, and the trust no +more in the resolution we have taken, but in the hand we hold.</p> + +<p>Hence I think that there is no desire more intense or more exalted than +that which exists in all rightly disciplined minds for the evidences of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c7p5">§ 5. Its universal value as a test of art.</a></span>repose in external signs, and +what I cautiously said respecting infinity, I say fearlessly respecting +repose, that no work of art can be great without it, and that all art is +great in proportion to the appearance of it. It is the most unfailing +test of beauty, whether of matter or of motion, nothing can be ignoble +that possesses it, nothing right that has it not, and in strict +proportion to its appearance in the work is the majesty of mind to be +inferred in the artificer. Without regard to other qualities, we may +look to this for our evidence, and by the search for this alone we may +be led to the rejection of all that is base, and the accepting of all +that is good and great, for the paths of wisdom are all peace. We shall +see by this light three colossal images standing up side by side, +looming in their great rest of spirituality above the whole world +horizon, Phidias, Michael Angelo, and Dante; and then, separated from +their great religious thrones only by less fulness and earnestness of +Faith, Homer, and Shakspeare; and from these we may go down step by step +among the mighty men of every age, securely and certainly observant of +diminished lustre in every appearance of restlessness and effort, until +the last trace of true inspiration vanishes in the tottering +affectations or the tortured insanities of modern times. There is no +art, no pursuit, whatsoever, but its results may be classed by this test +alone; everything of evil is betrayed and winnowed away by it, glitter +and confusion and glare of color, inconsistency or absence of thought, +forced expression, evil choice of subject, over accumulation of +materials, whether in painting or literature, the shallow and +unreflecting nothingness of the English schools of art, the strained and +disgusting horrors of the French, the distorted feverishness of the +German:—pretence, over decoration, over division of parts in +architecture, and again in music, in acting, in dancing, in whatsoever +art, great or mean, there are yet degrees of greatness or meanness +entirely dependent on this single quality of repose.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page069"></a>[Page 69]</span></p> + +<p>Particular instances are at present both needless and cannot but be +inadequate; needless, because I suppose that every reader, however <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c7p6">§ 6. +Instances in the Laocoon and Theseus.</a></span>limited his experience of art, can +supply many for himself, and inadequate, because no number of them could +illustrate the full extent of the influence of the expression. I +believe, however, that by comparing the disgusting convulsions of the +Laocoon, with the Elgin Theseus, we may obtain a general idea of the +effect of the influence, as shown by its absence in one, and presence in +the other, of two works which, as far as artistical merit is concerned, +are in some measure parallel, not that I believe, even in this respect, +the Laocoon justifiably comparable with the Theseus. I suppose that no +group has exercised so pernicious an influence on art as this, a subject +ill chosen, meanly conceived and unnaturally treated, recommended to +imitation by subtleties of execution and accumulation of technical +knowledge.<a name="FnAnchor_24" href="#Footnote_24"><sup>[24]</sup></a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page070"></a>[Page 70]</span></p> + +<p>In Christian art, it would be well to compare the feeling of the finer +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c7p7">§ 7. And in altar tombs.</a></span>among the altar tombs of the middle ages, with +any monumental works after Michael Angelo, perhaps more especially with +works of Roubilliac or Canova.</p> + +<p>In the Cathedral of Lucca, near the entrance door of the north transept, +there is a monument of Jacopo della Quercia's to Ilaria di Caretto, the +wife of Paolo Guinigi. I name it not as more beautiful or perfect than +other examples of the same period, but as furnishing an instance of the +exact and right mean between the rigidity and rudeness of the earlier +monumental effigies, and the morbid imitation of life, sleep, or death, +of which the fashion has taken place in modern times.<a name="FnAnchor_25" href="#Footnote_25"><sup>[25]</sup></a> She is <span class="pagenum"><a name="page071"></a>[Page +71]</span> lying on a simple couch, with a hound at her feet, not on the side, +but with the head laid straight and simply on the hard pillow, in which, +let it be observed, there is no effort at deceptive imitation of +pressure. It is understood as a pillow, but not mistaken for one. The +hair is bound in a flat braid over the fair brow, the sweet and arched +eyes are closed, the tenderness of the loving lips is set and quiet, +there is that about them which forbids breath, something which is not +death nor sleep, but the pure image of both. The hands are not lifted in +prayer, neither folded, but the arms are laid at length upon the body, +and the hands cross as they fall. The feet are hidden by the drapery, +and the forms of the limbs concealed, but not their tenderness.</p> + +<p>If any of us, after staying for a time beside this tomb, could see +through his tears, one of the vain and unkind encumbrances of the grave, +which, in these hollow and heartless days, feigned sorrow builds to +foolish pride, he would, I believe, receive such a lesson of love as no +coldness could refuse, no fatuity forget, and no insolence disobey.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_22" href="#FnAnchor_22">[22]</a> Matt. xi. 28.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_23" href="#FnAnchor_23">[23]</a></p> + +<p class="poemq"> + "The universal instinct of repose, <br /> + The longing for confirmed tranquillity <br /> + Inward and outward, humble, yet sublime. <br /> + The life where hope and memory are as one. <br /> + Earth quiet and unchanged; the human soul <br /> + Consistent in self-rule; and heaven revealed <br /> + To meditation, in that quietness." +</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 30%; "><span class="sc">Wordsworth</span>. Excursion, Book iii.</p> + +<p>But compare carefully (for this is put into the mouth of one diseased in +thought and erring in seeking) the opening of the ninth book; and +observe the difference between the mildew of inaction,—the slumber of +Death; and the Patience of the Saints—the Rest of the Sabbath Eternal. +(Rev. xiv. 13.)</p> + +<p>Compare also, <a href="#s1c1p6">Chap. I. § 6</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_24" href="#FnAnchor_24">[24]</a> I would also have the reader compare with the meagre lines and +contemptible tortures of the Laocoon, the awfulness and quietness of M. +Angelo's treatment of a subject in most respects similar, (the plague of +the Fiery Serpents,) but of which the choice was justified both by the +place which the event holds in the typical system he had to arrange, and +by the grandeur of the plague itself, in its multitudinous grasp, and +its mystical salvation; sources of sublimity entirely wanting to the +slaughter of the Dardan priest. It is good to see how his gigantic +intellect reaches after repose, and truthfully finds it, in the falling +hand of the near figure, and in the deathful decline of that whose hands +are held up even in their venom coldness to the cross; and though +irrelevant to our present purpose, it is well also to note how the +grandeur of this treatment results, not merely from choice, but from a +greater knowledge and more faithful rendering of truth. For whatever +knowledge of the human frame there may be in the Laocoon, there is +certainly none of the habits of serpents. The fixing of the snake's head +in the side of the principal figure is as false to nature, as it is poor +in composition of line. A large serpent never wants to bite, it wants to +hold, it seizes therefore always where it can hold best, by the +extremities, or throat, it seizes once and forever, and that before it +coils, following up the seizure with the twist of its body round the +victim, as invisibly swift as the twist of a whip lash round any hard +object it may strike, and then it holds fast, never moving the jaws or +the body, if its prey has any power of struggling left, it throws round +another coil, without quitting the hold with the jaws; if Laocoon had +had to do with real serpents, instead of pieces of tape with heads to +them, he would have been held still, and not allowed to throw his arms +or legs about. It is most instructive to observe the accuracy of Michael +Angelo in the rendering of these circumstances; the binding of the arms +to the body, and the knotting of the whole mass of agony together, until +we hear the crashing of the bones beneath the grisly sliding of the +engine folds. Note also the expression in all the figures of another +circumstance, the torpor and cold numbness of the limbs induced by the +serpent venom, which, though justifiably overlooked by the sculptor of +the Laocoon, as well as by Virgil—in consideration of the rapidity of +the death by crushing, adds infinitely to the power of the Florentine's +conception, and would have been better hinted by Virgil, than that +sickening distribution of venom on the garlands. In fact, Virgil has +missed both of truth and impressiveness every way—the "morsu +depascitur" is unnatural butchery—the "perfusus veneno" gratuitous +foulness—the "clamores horrendos," impossible degradation; compare +carefully the remarks on this statue in Sir Charles Bell's Essay on +Expression, (third edition, p. 192) where he has most wisely and +uncontrovertibly deprived the statue of all claim to expression of +energy and fortitude of mind, and shown its common and coarse intent of +mere bodily exertion and agony, while he has confirmed Payne Knight's +just condemnation of the passage in Virgil.</p> + +<p>If the reader wishes to see the opposite or imaginative view of the +subject, let him compare Winkelmann; and Schiller, Letters on Ęsthetic +Culture.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_25" href="#FnAnchor_25">[25]</a> Whenever, in monumental work, the sculptor reaches a deceptive +appearance of life or death, or of concomitant details, he has gone too +far. The statue should be felt for such, not look like a dead or +sleeping body; it should not convey the impression of a corpse, nor of +sick and outwearied flesh, but it should be the marble <i>image</i> of death +or weariness. So the concomitants should be distinctly marble, severe +and monumental in their lines, not shroud, not bedclothes, not actual +armor nor brocade, not a real soft pillow, not a downright hard stuffed +mattress, but the mere type and suggestion of these: a certain rudeness +and incompletion of finish is very noble in all. Not that they are to be +unnatural, such lines as are given should be pure and true, and clear of +the hardness and mannered rigidity of the strictly Gothic types, but +lines so few and grand as to appeal to the imagination only, and always +to stop short of realization. There is a monument put up lately by a +modern Italian sculptor in one of the side chapels of Santa Croce, the +face fine and the execution dexterous. But it looks as if the person had +been restless all night, and the artist admitted to a faithful study of +the disturbed bedclothes in the morning.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page072"></a>[Page 72]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + +<h5>OF SYMMETRY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE JUSTICE.</h5> + +<p>We shall not be long detained by the consideration of this, the fourth +constituent of beauty, as its nature is universally felt and understood. +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c8p1">§ 1. Symmetry, what and how found in organic nature.</a></span>In all perfectly +beautiful objects, there is found the opposition of one part to another +and a reciprocal balance obtained; in animals the balance being commonly +between opposite sides, (note the disagreeableness occasioned by the +exception in flat fish, having the eyes on one side of the head,) but in +vegetables the opposition is less distinct, as in the boughs on opposite +sides of trees, and the leaves and sprays on each side of the boughs, +and in dead matter less perfect still, often amounting only to a certain +tendency towards a balance, as in the opposite sides of valleys and +alternate windings of streams. In things in which perfect symmetry is +from their nature impossible or improper, a balance must be at least in +some measure expressed before they can be beheld with pleasure. Hence +the necessity of what artists <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c8p2">§ 2. How necessary in art.</a></span>require as +opposing lines or masses in composition, the propriety of which, as well +as their value, depends chiefly on their inartificial and natural +invention. Absolute equality is not required, still less absolute +similarity. A mass of subdued color may be balanced by a point of a +powerful one, and a long and latent line overpowered by a short and +conspicuous one. The only error against which it is necessary to guard +the reader with respect to symmetry, is the confounding it with +proportion, though it seems strange that the two terms could ever have +been used as synonymous. Symmetry is the <i>opposition</i> of <i>equal</i> +quantities to each other. Proportion the <i>connection</i> of <i>unequal</i> +quantities with each other. The property of a tree in sending out equal +boughs on opposite sides is symmetrical. Its sending out shorter and +smaller towards the top, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page073"></a>[Page 73]</span> proportional. In the human face its +balance of opposite sides is symmetry, its division upwards, proportion.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" summary="Illustration."> +<tr> + <td><span class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img75.jpg" width="650" height="479" alt="TOMB OF THE ILARIA DI CARETTO, LUCCA." title="TOMB OF THE ILARIA DI CARETTO, LUCCA." /></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="caption">TOMB OF THE ILARIA DI CARETTO, LUCCA. <br />From a photograph.</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Whether the agreeableness of symmetry be in any way referable to its +expression of the Aristotelian <span class="grk" title="isotźs">ἰσότης</span>, that is to say of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c8p3">§ 3. +To what its agreeableness is referable. Various instances.</a></span>abstract +justice, I leave the reader to determine; I only assert respecting it, +that it is necessary to the dignity of every form, and that by the +removal of it we shall render the other elements of beauty comparatively +ineffectual: though, on the other hand, it is to be observed that it is +rather a mode of arrangement of qualities than a quality itself; and +hence symmetry has little power over the mind, unless all the other +constituents of beauty be found together with it. A form may be +symmetrical and ugly, as many Elizabethan ornaments, and yet not so +ugly as it had been if unsymmetrical, but bettered always by increasing +degrees of symmetry; as in star figures, wherein there is a circular +symmetry of many like members, whence their frequent use for the plan +and ground of ornamental designs; so also it is observable that foliage +in which the leaves are concentrically grouped, as in the chestnuts, and +many shrubs—rhododendrons for instance—(whence the perfect beauty of +the Alpine rose)—is far nobler in its effect than any other, so that +the sweet chestnut of all trees most fondly and frequently occurs in the +landscape of Tintoret and Titian, beside which all other landscape +grandeur vanishes: and even in the meanest things the rule holds, as in +the kaleidoscope, wherein agreeableness is given to forms altogether +accidental merely by their repetition and reciprocal opposition; which +orderly balance and arrangement are essential to the perfect operation +of the more earnest and solemn qualities of the beautiful, as being +heavenly in their nature, and contrary to the violence and +disorganization of sin, so that the seeking of them and submission to +them is always marked in minds that have been subjected to high moral +discipline, constant in all the great religious painters, to the degree +of being an offence and a scorn to men of less tuned and <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c8p4">§ 4. Especially +in religious art.</a></span>tranquil feeling. Equal ranks of saints are placed on +each side of the picture, if there be a kneeling figure on one side, +there is a corresponding one on the other, the attendant angels beneath +and above are arranged in like order. The Raffaelle at Blenheim, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page074"></a>[Page +74]</span> the Madonna di St. Sisto, the St. Cicilia, and all the works of +Perugino, Francia, and John Bellini present some such form, and the +balance at least is preserved even in pictures of action necessitating +variety of grouping, as always by Giotto; and by Ghirlandajo in the +introduction of his chorus-like side figures, and by Tintoret most +eminently in his noblest work, the Crucifixion, where not only the +grouping but the arrangement of light is absolutely symmetrical. Where +there is no symmetry, the effects of passion and violence are increased, +and many very sublime pictures derive their sublimity from the want of +it, but they lose proportionally in the diviner quality of beauty. In +landscape the same sense of symmetry is preserved, as we shall presently +see, even to artificialness, by the greatest men, and it is one of the +principal sources of deficient feeling in the landscapes of the present +day, that the symmetry of nature is sacrificed to irregular +picturesqueness. Of this, however, hereafter.</p> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page075"></a>[Page 75]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3> + +<h5>OF PURITY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE ENERGY.</h5> + +<p>It may at first appear strange that I have not in my enumeration of the +types of Divine attributes, included that which is certainly the most +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p1">§ 1. The influence of light as a sacred symbol.</a></span>visible and evident of +all, as well as the most distinctly expressed in Scripture; God is +light, and in Him is no darkness at all. But I could not logically class +the presence of an actual substance or motion with mere conditions and +modes of being, neither could I logically separate from any of these, +that which is evidently necessary to the perception of all. And it is +also to be observed, that though the love of light is more instinctive +in the human heart than any other of the desires connected with beauty, +we can hardly separate its agreeableness in its own nature from the +sense of its necessity and value for the purposes of life, neither the +abstract painfulness of darkness from the sense of danger and incapacity +connected with it; and note also that it is not <i>all</i> light, but light +possessing the universal qualities of beauty, diffused or infinite +rather than in points, tranquil, not startling and variable, pure, not +sullied or oppressed, which is indeed pleasant and perfectly typical of +the Divine nature.</p> + +<p>Observe, however, that there is one quality, the idea of which had been +just introduced in connection with light, which might have escaped us in +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p2">§ 2. The idea of purity connected with it.</a></span>the consideration of mere +matter, namely purity, and yet I think that the original notion of this +quality is altogether material, and has only been attributed to color +when such color is suggestive of the condition of matter from which we +originally received the idea. For I see not in the abstract how one +color should be considered purer than another, except as more or less +compounded, whereas there is certainly a sense of purity or impurity in +the most compound and neutral colors, as well as in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page076"></a>[Page 76]</span> +simplest, a quality difficult to define, and which the reader will +probably be surprised by my calling the type of energy, with which it +has certainly little traceable connection in the mind.</p> + +<p>I believe however if we carefully analyze the nature of our ideas of +impurity in general, we shall find them refer especially to conditions +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p3">§ 3. Originally derived from conditions of matter.</a></span>of matter in which its +various elements are placed in a relation incapable of healthy or +proper operation; and most distinctly to conditions in which the +negation of vital or energetic action is most evident, as in corruption +and decay of all kinds, wherein particles which once, by their operation +on each other, produced a living and energetic whole, are reduced to a +condition of perfect passiveness, in which they are seized upon and +appropriated, one by one, piecemeal, by whatever has need of them, +without any power of resistance or energy of their own. And thus there +is a peculiar painfulness attached to any associations of inorganic with +organic matter, such as appear to involve the inactivity and feebleness +of the latter, so that things which are not felt to be foul in their own +nature, yet become so in association with things of greater inherent +energy; as dust or earth, which in a mass excites no painful sensation, +excites a most disagreeable one when strewing or staining an animal's +skin, because it implies a decline and deadening of the vital and +healthy power of the skin. But all reasoning <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p4">§ 4. Associated ideas +adding to the power of the impression. Influence of clearness.</a></span>about this +impression is rendered difficult, by the host of associated ideas +connected with it; for the ocular sense of impurity connected with +corruption is infinitely enhanced by the offending of other senses and +by the grief and horror of it in its own nature, as the special +punishment and evidence of sin, and on the other hand, the ocular +delight in purity is mingled, as I before observed, with the love of the +mere element of light, as a type of wisdom and of truth; whence it seems +to me that we admire the transparency of bodies, though probably it is +still rather owing to our sense of more perfect order and arrangement of +particles, and not to our love of light, that we look upon a piece of +rock crystal as purer than a piece of marble, and on the marble as purer +than a piece of chalk. And let it be observed also that the most lovely +objects in nature are only partially transparent. I suppose <span class="pagenum"><a name="page077"></a>[Page 77]</span> +the utmost possible sense of beauty is conveyed by a feebly translucent, +smooth, but not lustrous surface of white, and pale warm red, subdued by +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p5">§ 5. Perfect beauty of surface, in what consisting.</a></span>the most pure and +delicate grays, as in the finer portions of the human frame; in wreaths +of snow, and in white plumage under rose light,<a name="FnAnchor_26" href="#Footnote_26"><sup>[26]</sup></a> so Viola of Olivia +in Twelfth Night, and Homer of Atrides wounded.<a name="FnAnchor_27" href="#Footnote_27"><sup>[27]</sup></a> And I think that +transparency and lustre, both beautiful in themselves, are incompatible +with the highest beauty because they destroy form, on the full +perception of which more of the divinely character of the object depends +than upon its color. Hence, in the beauty of snow and of flesh, so much +translucency is allowed as is consistent with the full explanation of +the forms, while we are suffered to receive more intense impressions of +light and transparency from other objects which, nevertheless, owing to +their necessarily <span class="pagenum"><a name="page078"></a>[Page 78]</span> unperceived form, are not perfectly nor +affectingly beautiful. A fair forehead outshines its diamond diadem. The +sparkle of the cascade withdraws not our eyes from the snowy summits in +their evening silence.</p> + +<p>It may seem strange to many readers that I have not spoken of purity in +that sense in which it is most frequently used, as a type of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p6">§ 6. Purity +only metaphorically a type of sinlessness.</a></span>sinlessness. I do not deny +that the frequent metaphorical use of it in Scripture may have and ought +to have much influence on the sympathies with which we regard it, and +that probably the immediate agreeableness of it to most minds arises far +more from this source than from that to which I have chosen to attribute +it. But, in the first place, if it be indeed in the signs of Divine and +not of human attributes that beauty consists, I see not how the idea of +sin can be formed with respect to the Deity, for it is an idea of a +relation borne by us to Him, and not in any way to be attached to his +abstract nature. And if the idea of sin is incapable of being formed +with respect to Him, so also is its negative, for we cannot form an idea +of negation, where we cannot form an idea of presence. If for instance +one could conceive of taste or flavor in a proposition of Euclid, so +also might we of insipidity, but if not of the one, then not of the +other. So that, in speaking of the goodness of God, it cannot be that we +mean anything more than his Love, Mercifulness, and Justice, and these +attributes I have shown to be expressed by other qualities of beauty, +and I cannot trace any rational connection between them and the idea of +spotlessness in matter. Neither can I trace any more distinct relation +between this idea, and any of the virtues which make up the +righteousness of man, except perhaps those of truth and openness, of +which I have already spoken as more expressed by the transparency than +the mere purity of matter. So that I conceive the whole use of the terms +purity, spotlessness, etc., in moral subjects, to be merely +metaphorical, and that it is rather that we illustrate these virtues by +the desirableness of material purity, than that we desire material +purity because it is illustrative of these virtues.</p> + +<p>I repeat, then, that the only idea which I think can be legitimately +connected with purity of matter, is this of vital and energetic <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p7">§ 7. +Energy, how expressed by purity of matter.</a></span>connection among its +particles, and that the idea of foulness <span class="pagenum"><a name="page079"></a>[Page 79]</span> is essentially +connected with dissolution and death. Thus the purity of the rock, +contrasted with the foulness of dust or mould, is expressed by the +epithet "living," very singularly given in the rock, in almost all +languages; singularly I say, because life is almost the last attribute +one would ascribe to stone, but for this visible energy and connection +of its particles: and so of water as opposed to stagnancy. And I do not +think that, however pure a powder or dust may be, the idea of beauty is +ever connected with it, for it is not the mere purity, but the <i>active</i> +condition of the substance which is desired, so that as soon as it +shoots into crystals, or gathers into efflorescence, a sensation of +<i>active</i> or real purity is received which was not felt in the calcined +caput mortuum.</p> + +<p>And again in color. I imagine that the quality of it which we term +purity is dependent on the full energizing of the rays that compose it, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p8">§ 8. And of color.</a></span>whereof if in compound hues any are overpowered and +killed by the rest, so as to be of no value nor operation, foulness is +the consequence; while so long as all act together, whether side by +side, or from pigments seen one through the other, so that all the +coloring matter employed comes into play in the harmony desired, and +none be quenched nor killed, purity results. And so in all cases I +suppose that pureness is made to us desirable, because expressive of the +constant presence and energizing of the Deity in matter, through which +all things live and move, and have their being, and that foulness is +painful as the accompaniment of disorder and decay, and always +indicative of the withdrawal of Divine support. And the practical +analogies of life, the invariable connection of outward foulness with +mental sloth and degradation, as well as with bodily lethargy and +disease, together with the contrary indications of freshness and purity +belonging to every healthy and active organic frame, (singularly seen in +the effort of the young leaves when first their inward energy prevails +over the earth, pierces its corruption, and shakes its dust away from +their own white purity of life,) all these circumstances strengthen the +instinct by <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c9p9">§ 9. Spirituality, how so expressed.</a></span>associations countless +and irresistible. And then, finally, with the idea of purity comes that +of spirituality, for the essential characteristic of matter <span class="pagenum"><a name="page080"></a>[Page 80]</span> is +its inertia, whence, by adding to it purity or energy, we may in some +measure spiritualize even matter itself. Thus in the descriptions of the +Apocalypse it is its purity that fits it for its place in heaven; the +river of the water of life, that proceeds out of the throne of the Lamb, +is clear as crystal, and the pavement of the city is pure gold, like +unto clear glass.<a name="FnAnchor_28" href="#Footnote_28"><sup>[28]</sup></a></p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_26" href="#FnAnchor_26">[26]</a> The reader will observe that I am speaking at present of mere +material qualities. If he would obtain perfect ideas respecting +loveliness of luminous surface, let him closely observe a swan with its +wings expanded in full light five minutes before sunset. The human cheek +or the rose leaf are perhaps hardly so pure, and the forms of snow, +though individually as beautiful, are less exquisitely combined.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_27" href="#FnAnchor_27">[27]</a></p> + +<p class="noind" style="margin-left: 20%; "><span class="grk" title="hōs d' ote tis t' elephanta gynź phoiniki miźnź Mźonis"> +ὡς δ᾽ ὄτε τίς ἐλεφαντα +γυνή φοίνικι μιᾑνη <br /> +Μηονὶς</span>.</p> + +<p>So Spenser of Shamefacedness, an exquisite piece of glowing color—and +sweetly of Belphoebe—(so the roses and lilies of all poets.) Compare +the making of the image of Florimell.</p> + +<p class="poemq"> + "The substance whereof she the body made <br /> + Was purest snow, in massy mould congealed, <br /> + Which she had gathered in a shady glade <br /> + Of the Riphoean hills. <br /> + The same she tempered with fine mercury, <br /> + And mingled them with perfect vermily." +</p> + +<p>With Una he perhaps overdoes the white a little. She is two degrees of +comparison above snow. Compare his questioning in the Hymn to Beauty, +about that mixture made of colors fair; and goodly temperament, of pure +complexion.</p> + +<p class="poemq"> + "Hath white and red in it such wondrous power <br /> + That it can pierce through the eyes into the heart?" +</p> + +<p>Where the distinction between typical and vital beauty is very +gloriously carried out.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_28" href="#FnAnchor_28">[28]</a> I have not spoken here of any of the associations connected with +warmth or coolness of color, they are partly connected with vital +beauty, compare <a href="#s1c14p22">Chap. xiv. § 22, 23</a>, and partly with impressions of the +sublime, the discussion of which is foreign to the present subject; +purity, however, it is which gives value to both, for neither warm nor +cool color, can be beautiful, if impure.</p> + +<p>Neither have I spoken of any questions relating to melodies of color, a +subject of separate science—whose general principle has been already +stated in the seventh chapter respecting unity of sequence. Those +qualities only are here noted which give absolute beauty, whether to +separate color or to melodies of it—for all melodies are not beautiful, +but only those which are expressive of certain pleasant or solemn +emotions; and the rest startling, or curious, or cheerful, or exciting, +or sublime, but not beautiful, (and so in music.) And all questions +relating to this grandeur, cheerfulness, or other characteristic +impression of color must be considered under the head of ideas of +relation.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page081"></a>[Page 81]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3> + +<h5>OF MODERATION, OR THE TYPE OF GOVERNMENT BY LAW.</h5> + +<p>Of objects which, in respect of the qualities hitherto considered, +appear to have equal claims to regard, we find, nevertheless, that <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p1"></a>§ 1. +Meaning of the terms Chasteness and Refinement.</span>certain are preferred to +others in consequence of an attractive power, usually expressed by the +terms "chasteness, refinement, or elegance," and it appears also that +things which in other respects have little in them of natural beauty, +and are of forms altogether simple and adapted to simple uses, are +capable of much distinction and desirableness in consequence of these +qualities only. It is of importance to discover the real nature of the +ideas thus expressed.</p> + +<p>Something of the peculiar meaning of the words is referable to the +authority of fashion and the exclusiveness of pride, owing to which that +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p2"></a>§ 2. How referable to temporary fashions.</span>which is the mode of a +particular time is submissively esteemed, and that which by its +costliness or its rarity is of difficult attainment, or in any way +appears to have been chosen as the best of many things, (which is the +original sense of the words elegant and exquisite,) is esteemed for the +witness it bears to the dignity of the chooser.</p> + +<p>But neither of these ideas are in any way connected with eternal beauty, +neither do they at all account for that agreeableness of color and form +which is especially termed chasteness, and which it would seem to be a +characteristic of rightly trained mind in all things to prefer, and of +common minds to reject.</p> + +<p>There is however another character of artificial productions, to which +these terms have partial reference, which it is of some importance to +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p3">§ 3. How to the perception of completion.</a></span>note, that of finish, +exactness, or refinement, which are commonly desired in the works of +men, owing both to their difficulty of accomplishment and consequent +expression of care and power (compare <span class="pagenum"><a name="page082"></a>[Page 82]</span> Chapter on Ideas of +Power, Part I. Sect, i.,) and from their greater resemblance to the +working of God, whose "absolute exactness," says Hooker, "all things +imitate, by tending to that which is most exquisite in every +particular." And there is not a greater sign of the imperfection of +general taste, than its capability of contentment with forms and things +which, professing completion, are yet not exact nor complete, as in the +vulgar with wax and clay and china figures, and in bad sculptors with an +unfinished and clay-like modelling of surface, and curves and angles of +no precision or delicacy; and in general, in all common and unthinking +persons with an imperfect rendering of that which might be pure and +fine, as church-wardens are content to lose the sharp lines of stone +carving under clogging obliterations of whitewash, and as the modern +Italians scrape away and polish white all the sharpness and glory of the +carvings on their old churches, as most miserably and <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p4">§ 4. Finish, by +great masters esteemed essential.</a></span>pitifully on St. Mark's at Venice, and +the Baptisteries of Pistoja and Pisa, and many others; so also the +delight of vulgar painters in coarse and slurred painting, merely for +the sake of its coarseness,<a name="FnAnchor_29" href="#Footnote_29"><sup>[29]</sup></a> as of Spagnoletto, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page083"></a>[Page 83]</span> Salvator, +or Murillo, opposed to the divine finish which the greatest and +mightiest of men disdained not, but rather wrought out with painfulness +and life spending; as Leonardo and Michael Angelo, (for the latter, +however many things he left unfinished, did finish, if at all, with a +refinement that the eye cannot follow, but the feeling only, as in the +Pieta of Genoa,) and Perugino always, even to the gilding of single +hairs among his angel tresses, and the young Raffaelle, when he was +heaven taught, and Angelico, and Pinturicchio, and John Bellini, and all +other such serious and loving men. Only it is to be observed that this +finish is not a part or constituent of beauty, but the full and ultimate +rendering of it, so that it is an idea only connected with the works of +men, for all the works of the Deity are finished with the same, that is, +infinite care and completion: and so what degrees of beauty exist among +them can in no way be dependent upon this source, inasmuch as there are +between them no degrees of care. And therefore, as there certainly is +admitted a difference of degree in what we call chasteness, even in +Divine work, (compare the hollyhock or the sunflower with the vale +lily,) we must seek for it some other explanation and source than this.</p> + +<p>And if, bringing down our ideas of it from complicated objects to simple +lines and colors, we analyze and regard them carefully, I think we shall +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p5">§ 5. Moderation, its nature and value</a></span>be able to trace them to an +under-current <span class="pagenum"><a name="page084"></a>[Page 84]</span> of constantly agreeable feeling, excited by the +appearance in material things of a self-restrained liberty, that is to +say, by the image of that acting of God with regard to all his creation, +wherein, though free to operate in whatever arbitrary, sudden, violent, +or inconstant ways he will, he yet, if we may reverently so speak, +restrains in himself this his omnipotent liberty, and works always in +consistent modes, called by us laws. And this restraint or moderation, +according to the words of Hooker, ("that which doth moderate the force +and power, that which doth appoint the form and measure of working, the +same we term a law,") is in the Deity not restraint, such as it is said +of creatures, but, as again says Hooker, "the very being of God is a law +to his working," so that every appearance of painfulness or want of +power and freedom in material things is wrong and ugly; for the right +restraint, the image of Divine operation, is both in them, and in men, a +willing and not painful stopping short of the utmost degree to which +their power might reach, and the appearance of fettering or confinement +is the cause of ugliness in the one, as the slightest painfulness or +effort in restraint is a sign of sin in the other.</p> + +<p>I have put this attribute of beauty last, because I consider it the +girdle and safeguard of all the rest, and in this respect the most <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p6">§ 6. +It is the girdle of beauty.</a></span>essential of all, for it is possible that a +certain degree of beauty may be attained even in the absence of one of +its other constituents, as sometimes in some measure without symmetry or +without unity. But the least appearance of violence or extravagance, of +the want of moderation and restraint, is, I think, destructive of all +beauty whatsoever in everything, color, form, motion, language, or +thought, giving rise to that which in color we call glaring, in form +inelegant, in motion ungraceful, in language coarse, in thought +undisciplined, in all unchastened; which qualities are in everything +most painful, because the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p7">§ 7. How found in natural curves and +colors.</a></span>signs of disobedient and irregular operation. And herein we at +last find the reason of that which has been so often noted respecting +the subtilty and almost invisibility of natural curves and colors, and +why it is that we look on those lines as least beautiful which fall into +wide and far license of curvature, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page085"></a>[Page 85]</span> and as most beautiful which +approach nearest (so that the curvilinear character be distinctly +asserted) to the government of the right line, as in the pure and severe +curves of the draperies of the religious painters; and thus in color it +is not red, but rose-color which is most beautiful, neither such actual +green as we find in summer foliage partly, and in our painting of it +constantly; but such gray green as that into which nature modifies her +distant tints, or such pale green and uncertain as we see in sunset sky, +and in the clefts of the glacier and the chrysoprase, and the sea-foam; +and so of all colors, not that they may not sometimes be deep and full, +but that there is a solemn moderation even in their very fulness, and a +holy reference beyond and out of their own nature to great harmonies by +which they are governed, and in obedience to which is their glory. +Whereof the ignorance is shown in all evil colorists by the violence and +positiveness of their hues, and by dulness and discordance consequent, +for the very brilliancy and real power of all color is dependent on the +chastening of it, as of a voice on its gentleness, and as of action on +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c10p8">§ 8. How difficult of attainment, yet essential to all good.</a></span>its +calmness, and as all moral vigor on self-command. And therefore as that +virtue which men last, and with most difficulty attain unto, and which +many attain not at all, and yet that which is essential to the conduct +and almost to the being of all other virtues, since neither imagination, +nor invention, nor industry, nor sensibility, nor energy, nor any other +good having, is of full avail without this of self-command, whereby +works truly masculine and mighty are produced, and by the signs of which +they are separated from that lower host of things brilliant, magnificent +and redundant, and farther yet from that of the loose, the lawless, the +exaggerated, the insolent, and the profane, I would have the necessity +of it foremost among all our inculcating, and the name of it largest +among all our inscribing, in so far that, over the doors of every school +of Art, I would have this one word, relieved out in deep letters of pure +gold,—Moderation.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_29" href="#FnAnchor_29">[29]</a> It is to be carefully noted that when rude execution is evidently +not the result of imperfect feeling and desire (as in these men above +named, it is) but of thought; either impatient, which there was +necessity to note swiftly, or impetuous, which it was well to note in +mighty manner, as pre-eminently and in both kinds the case with +Tintoret, and often with Michael Angelo, and in lower and more degraded +modes with Rubens, and generally in the sketches and first thoughts of +great masters; there is received a very noble pleasure, connected both +with ideas of power (compare again Part I. Sect. ii. Chap. I.) and with +certain actions of the imagination of which we shall speak presently. +But this pleasure is not received from the beauty of the work, for +nothing can be perfectly beautiful unless complete, but from its +simplicity and sufficiency to its immediate purpose, where the purpose +is not of beauty at all, as often in things rough-hewn, pre-eminently +for instance in the stones of the foundations of the Pitti and Strozzi +palaces, whose noble rudeness is to be opposed both to the useless +polish, and the barbarous rustications of modern times, (although indeed +this instance is not without exception to be received, for the majesty +of these rocky buildings depends also in some measure upon the real +beauty and finish of the natural curvilinear fractures, opposed to the +coarseness of human chiselling,) and again, as it respects works of +higher art, the pleasure of their hasty or imperfect execution is not +indicative of their beauty, but of their majesty and fulness of thought +and vastness of power. Shade is only beautiful when it magnifies and +sets forth the forms of fair things, so negligence is only noble when it +is, as Fuseli hath it, "the shadow of energy." Which that it may be, +secure the substance and the shade will follow, but let the artist +beware of stealing the manner of giant intellects when he has not their +intention, and of assuming large modes of treatment when he has little +thoughts to treat. There is large difference between indolent impatience +of labor and intellectual impatience of delay, large difference between +leaving things unfinished because we have more to do, or because we are +satisfied with what we have done. Tintoret, who prayed hard, and hardly +obtained, that he might be permitted, the charge of his colors only +being borne, to paint a new built house from base to battlement, was not +one to shun labor, it is the pouring in upon him of glorious thoughts in +inexpressible multitude that his sweeping hand follows so fast. It is as +easy to know the slightness of earnest haste from the slightness of +blunt feeling, indolence, or affectation, as it is to know the dust of a +race, from the dust of dissolution.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page086"></a>[Page 86]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3> + +<h5>GENERAL INFERENCES RESPECTING TYPICAL BEAUTY.</h5> + +<p>I have now enumerated, and in some measure explained those +characteristics of mere matter by which I conceive it becomes agreeable +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c11p1">§ 1. The subject incompletely treated, yet admitting of general +conclusions.</a></span>to the theoretic faculty, under whatever form, dead, +organized, or animated, it may present itself. It will be our task in +the succeeding volume to examine, and illustrate by examples, the mode +in which these characteristics appear in every division of creation, in +stones, mountains, waves, clouds, and all organic bodies; beginning with +vegetables, and then taking instances in the range of animals from the +mollusc to man; examining how one animal form is nobler than another, by +the more manifest presence of these attributes, and chiefly endeavoring +to show how much there is of admirable and lovely, even in what is +commonly despised. At present I have only to mark the conclusions at +which we have as yet arrived respecting the rank of the theoretic +faculty, and then to pursue the inquiry farther into the nature of vital +beauty.</p> + +<p>As I before said, I pretend not to have enumerated all the sources of +material beauty, nor the analogies connected with them; it is probable +that others may occur to many readers, or to myself as I proceed into +more particular inquiry, but I am not careful to collect all conceivable +evidence on the subject. I desire only to assert and prove some certain +principles, and by means of these to show, in some measure, the inherent +worthiness and glory of God's works and something of the relations they +bear to each other and to us, leaving the subject to be fully pursued, +as it only can be, by the ardor and affection of those whom it may +interest.</p> + +<p>The qualities above enumerated are not to be considered as stamped upon +matter for our teaching or enjoyment only, but as <span class="pagenum"><a name="page087"></a>[Page 87]</span> the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c11p2">§ 2. +Typical beauty not created for man's sake.</a></span>necessary consequence of the +perfection of God's working, and the inevitable stamp of his image on +what he creates. For it would be inconsistent with his Infinite +perfection to work imperfectly in any place, or in any matter; wherefore +we do not find that flowers and fair trees, and kindly skies, are given +only where man may see them and be fed by them, but the Spirit of God +works everywhere alike, where there is no eye to see, covering all +lonely places with an equal glory, using the same pencil and outpouring +the same splendor, in the caves of the waters where the sea-snakes swim, +and in the desert where the satyrs dance, among the fir-trees of the +stork, and the rocks of the conies, as <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c11p3">§ 3. But degrees of it for his +sake admitted.</a></span>among those higher creatures whom he has made capable +witnesses of his working. Nevertheless, I think that the admission of +different degrees of this glory and image of himself upon creation, has +the look of something meant especially for us; for although, in +pursuance of the appointed system of government by universal laws, these +same degrees exist where we cannot witness them, yet the existence of +degrees at all seems at first unlikely in Divine work, and I cannot see +reason for it unless that palpable one of increasing in us the +understanding of the sacred characters by showing us the results of +their comparative absence. For I know not that if all things had been +equally beautiful, we could have received the idea of beauty at all, or +if we had, certainly it had become a matter of indifference to us, and +of little thought, whereas through the beneficent ordaining of degrees +in its manifestation, the hearts of men are stirred by its occasional +occurrence in its noblest form, and all their energies are awakened in +the pursuit of it, and endeavor to arrest it or recreate it for <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c11p4">§ 4. +What encouragement hence to be received.</a></span>themselves. But whatever doubt +there may be respecting the exact amount of modification of created +things admitted reference to us, there can be none respecting the +dignity of that faculty by which we receive the mysterious evidence of +their divine origin. The fact of our deriving constant pleasure from +whatever is a type or semblance of Divine attributes, and from nothing +but that which is so, is the most glorious of all that can be +demonstrated of human nature; it not only sets a great gulf of specific +separation between us and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page088"></a>[Page 88]</span> the lower animals, but it seems a +promise of a communion ultimately deep, close, and conscious, with the +Being whose darkened manifestations we here feebly and unthinkingly +delight in. Probably to every order of intelligence more of his image +becomes palpable in all around them, and the glorified spirits and the +angels have perceptions as much more full and rapturous than ours, as +ours than those of beasts and creeping things. And receiving it, as we +must, for an universal axiom that "no natural desire can be entirely +frustrate," and seeing that these desires are indeed so unfailing in us +that they have escaped not the reasoners of any time, but were held +divine of old, and in even heathen countries,<a name="FnAnchor_30" href="#Footnote_30"><sup>[30]</sup></a> it cannot be but that +there is in these visionary pleasures, lightly as we now regard them, +cause for thankfulness, ground for hope, anchor for faith, more than in +all the other manifold gifts and guidances, wherewith God crowns the +years, and hedges the paths of men.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_30" href="#FnAnchor_30">[30]</a> + +<span class="grk" title="Hź dč teleķa eudaimonķa theōrźtikź tķs eotin henérgeia."> +Ἡ δά τελεία ἐυδαιμονία +θεωρητική τίς ἐστιν +ἐνέργυια.</span> * * +<span class="grk" title="tois mčn gąr theois apas ho bios makarios, tois d anthrōpois, eph hoson homoiōma ti tźs toiantźs henergeias hupįrchei. tōn d hallōn zōōn +oudčn čudaimonei. hepeidź oudamź koinōnei theōrias"> +τοἰς μὲν γὰρ θεὂις +ἀπας ὁ βιος μακάριος +τοῖς δ᾽ ἀνθρώποις, ἐφ᾽ +ὂσον ὁμοίωμά τι τῆς +τοιάυτης ἐνεργείας +ὐπάρχει. τῶν δ᾽ἄλλων +ζῴῳnu; οὐδὲν ὲυδαιμονεῑ, +ἐπειδὴ οὐδαμῆ κοινωνεῖ +θεωρίας.</span>—Arist. Eth. Lib. +10th. The concluding book of the Ethics should be carefully read. It is +all most valuable.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page089"></a>[Page 89]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3> + +<h5>OF VITAL BEAUTY. FIRST, AS RELATIVE.</h5> + +<p>I proceed more particularly to examine the nature of that second kind of +beauty of which I spoke in the third chapter, as consisting in "the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p1">§ 1. Transition from typical to vital Beauty.</a></span>appearance of felicitous +fulfilment of function in living things." I have already noticed the +example of very pure and high typical beauty which is to be found in the +lines and gradations of unsullied snow: if, passing to the edge of a +sheet of it, upon the lower Alps, early in May, we find, as we are +nearly sure to find, two or three little round openings pierced in it, +and through these emergent, a slender, pensive, fragile flower<a name="FnAnchor_31" href="#Footnote_31"><sup>[31]</sup></a> whose +small dark, purple-fringed bell hangs down and shudders over the icy +cleft that it has cloven, as if partly wondering at its own recent +grave, and partly dying of very fatigue after its hard won victory; we +shall be, or we ought to be, moved by a totally different impression of +loveliness from that which we receive among the dead ice and the idle +clouds. There is now uttered to us a call for sympathy, now offered to +us an image of moral purpose and achievement, which, however unconscious +or senseless the creature may indeed be that so seems to call, cannot +be heard without affection, nor contemplated without worship, by any of +us whose heart is rightly tuned, or whose mind is clearly and surely +sighted.</p> + +<p>Throughout the whole of the organic creation every being in a perfect +state exhibits certain appearances, or evidences, of happiness, and +besides is in its nature, its desires, its modes of nourishment, +habitation, and death, illustrative or expressive of certain moral +dispositions or principles. Now, first, in the keenness of the sympathy +which we feel in the happiness, real or <span class="pagenum"><a name="page090"></a>[Page 90]</span> apparent, of all +organic beings, and which, as we shall presently see, invariably prompts +us, from the joy we have in it, to look upon those as most lovely which +are most happy; and secondly, in the justness of the moral sense which +rightly reads the lesson they are all intended to teach, and classes +them in orders of worthiness and beauty according to the rank and nature +of that lesson, whether it be of warning or example, of those that +wallow or of those that soar, of the fiend-hunted swine by the +Gennesaret lake, or of the dove returning to its ark of rest; in our +right accepting and reading of all this, consists, I say, the ultimately +perfect condition of that noble theoretic faculty, whose place in the +system of our nature I have already partly vindicated with respect to +typical, but which can only fully be established with respect to vital +beauty.</p> + +<p>Its first perfection, therefore, relating to vital beauty, is the +kindness and unselfish fulness of heart, which receives the utmost <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p2">§ 2. +The perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with vital beauty, +is charity.</a></span>amount of pleasure from the happiness of all things. Of which +in high degree the heart of man is incapable, neither what intense +enjoyment the angels may have in all that they see of things that move +and live, and in the part they take in the shedding of God's kindness +upon them, can we know or conceive: only in proportion as we draw near +to God, and are made in measure like unto him, can we increase this our +possession of charity, of which the entire essence is in God only.</p> + +<p>Wherefore it is evident that even the ordinary exercise of this faculty +implies a condition of the whole moral being in some measure right and +healthy, and that to the entire exercise of it there is necessary the +entire perfection of the Christian character, for he who loves not God, +nor his brother, cannot love the grass beneath his feet and the +creatures that fill those spaces in the universe which he needs not, +and which live not for his uses; nay, he has seldom grace to be grateful +even to those that love him and serve him, while, on the other hand, +none can love God nor his human brother without loving all things which +his Father loves, nor without looking upon them every one as in that +respect his brethren also, and perhaps worthier than he, if in the under +concords they have to fill, their part is touched more truly. Wherefore +it is good to read of that kindness and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page091"></a>[Page 91]</span> humbleness of St. +Francis of Assisi, who spoke never to bird nor to cicala, nor even to +wolf and beast of prey, but as his brother; and so we find are moved the +minds of all good and mighty men, as in the lesson that we have from the +Mariner of Coleridge, and yet more truly and rightly taught in the +Heartleap well,</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Never to blend our pleasure, or our pride, <br /> + With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels," +</p> + +<p>and again in the White Doe of Rylstone, with the added teaching of that +gift, which we have from things beneath us, in thanks for the love they +cannot equally return; that anguish of our own,</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Is tempered and allayed by sympathies,<br /> + Aloft ascending and descending deep,<br /> + Even to the inferior kinds," +</p> + +<p>so that I know not of anything more destructive of the whole theoretic +faculty, not to say of the Christian character and human intellect, than +those accursed sports in which man makes of himself, cat, tiger, +serpent, chaetodon, and alligator in one, and gathers into one +continuance of cruelty for his amusement all the devices that brutes +sparingly and at intervals use against each other for their +necessities.<a name="FnAnchor_32" href="#Footnote_32"><sup>[32]</sup></a></p> + +<p>As we pass from those beings of whose happiness and pain we are certain +to those in which it is doubtful or only seeming, as possibly in <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p3">§ 3. +Only with respect to plants, less affection than sympathy.</a></span>plants, +(though I would fain hold, if I might, "the faith that every flower, +enjoys the air it breathes," neither do I ever crush or gather one +without some pain,) yet our feeling for them has in it more of sympathy +than of actual love, as receiving from them in delight far more than we +can give; for love, I think, chiefly grows in giving, at least its +essence is the desire of doing good, or giving happiness, and we cannot +feel the desire of that which we cannot conceive, so that if we conceive +not of a <span class="pagenum"><a name="page092"></a>[Page 92]</span> plant as capable of pleasure, we cannot desire to +give it pleasure, that is, we cannot love it in the entire sense of the +term.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the sympathy of very lofty and sensitive minds usually +reaches so far as to the conception of life in the plant, and so to +love, as with Shelley, of the sensitive plant, and Shakspeare always, as +he has taught us in the sweet voices of Ophelia and Perdita, and +Wordsworth always, as of the daffodils, and the celandine.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold.<br /> + This neither is its courage, nor its choice,<br /> + But its necessity in being old,"— +</p> + +<p>and so all other great poets (that is to say, great seers;<a name="FnAnchor_33" href="#Footnote_33"><sup>[33]</sup></a>) nor do I +believe that any mind, however rude, is without some slight perception +or acknowledgment of joyfulness in breathless things, as most certainly +there are none but feel instinctive delight in the appearances of such +enjoyment.</p> + +<p>For it is matter of easy demonstration, that setting the characters of +typical beauty aside, the pleasure afforded by every organic form is in +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p4">§ 4. Which is proportioned to the appearance of energy in the +plants.</a></span>proportion to its appearance of healthy vital energy; as in a +rose-bush, setting aside all considerations of gradated flushing of +color and fair folding of line, which it shares with the cloud or the +snow-wreath, we find in and through all this, certain signs pleasant and +acceptable as signs of life and enjoyment in the particular individual +plant itself. Every leaf and stalk is seen to have a function, to be +constantly exercising that function, and as it seems <i>solely</i> for the +good and enjoyment of the plant. It is true that reflection will show us +that the plant is not living for itself alone, that its life is one of +benefaction, that it gives as well as receives, but no sense of this +whatsoever mingles with our perception of physical beauty in its forms. +Those forms which appear to be necessary to its health, the symmetry of +its leaflets, the smoothness of its stalks, the vivid green of its +shoots, are looked upon by us as signs of the plant's own happiness and +perfection; they are useless to us, except as they give us <span class="pagenum"><a name="page093"></a>[Page 93]</span> +pleasure in our sympathizing with that of the plant, and if we see a +leaf withered or shrunk or worm-eaten, we say it is ugly, and feel it to +be most painful, not because it hurts <i>us</i>, but because it seems to hurt +the plant, and conveys to us an idea of pain and disease and failure of +life in <i>it</i>.</p> + +<p>That the amount of pleasure we receive is in exact proportion to the +appearance of vigor and sensibility in the plant, is easily proved by +observing the effect of those which show the evidences of it in the +least degree, as, for instance, any of the cacti not in flower. Their +masses are heavy and simple, their growth slow, their various parts +jointed on one to another, as if they were buckled or pinned together +instead of growing out of each other, (note the singular imposition in +many of them, the prickly pear for instance, of the fruit upon the body +of the plant, so that it looks like a swelling or disease,) and often +farther opposed by harsh truncation of line as in the cactus +truncatophylla. All these circumstances so concur to deprive the plant +of vital evidences, that we receive from it more sense of pain than of +beauty; and yet even here, the sharpness of the angles, the symmetrical +order and strength of the spines, the fresh and even color of the body, +are looked for earnestly as signs of healthy condition, our pain is +increased by their absence, and indefinitely increased if blotches, and +other appearances of bruise and decay interfere with that little life +which the plant seems to possess.</p> + +<p>The same singular characters belong in animals to the crustacea, as to +the lobster, crab, scorpion, etc., and in great measure deprive them of +the beauty which we find in higher orders, so that we are reduced to +look for their beauty to single parts and joints, and not to the whole +animal.</p> + +<p>Now I wish particularly to impress upon the reader that all these +sensations of beauty in the plant arise from our unselfish sympathy with +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p5">§ 5. This sympathy is unselfish, and does not regard utility.</a></span>its +happiness, and not from any view of the qualities in it which may bring +good to us, nor even from our acknowledgment in it of any moral +condition beyond that of mere felicity; for such an acknowledgment, +belongs to the second operation of the theoretic faculty (compare § 2,) +and not to the sympathetic part which we are at present examining; so +that we even find <span class="pagenum"><a name="page094"></a>[Page 94]</span> that in this respect, the moment we begin to +look upon any creature as subordinate to some purpose out of itself, +some of the sense of organic beauty is lost. Thus, when we are told that +the leaves of a plant are occupied in decomposing carbonic acid, and +preparing oxygen for us, we begin to look upon it with some such +indifference as upon a gasometer. It has become a machine; some of our +sense of its happiness is gone; its emanation of inherent life is no +longer pure. The bending trunk, waving to and fro in the wind above the +waterfall, is beautiful because it is happy, though it is perfectly +useless to us. The same trunk, hewn down and thrown across the stream, +has lost its beauty. It serves as a bridge,—it has become useful; it +lives not for itself, and its beauty is gone, or what it retains is +purely typical, dependent on its lines and colors, not on its functions. +Saw it into planks, and though now adapted to become permanently useful, +its whole beauty is lost forever, or to be regained only in part when +decay and ruin shall have withdrawn it again from use, and left it to +receive from the hand of nature the velvet moss and varied lichen, which +may again suggest ideas of inherent happiness, and tint its mouldering +sides with hues of life.</p> + +<p>There is something, I think, peculiarly beautiful and instructive in +this unselfishness of the theoretic faculty, and in its abhorrence of +all utility which is based on the pain or destruction of any creature, +for in such ministering to each other as is consistent with the essence +and energy of both, it takes delight, as in the clothing of the rock by +the herbage, and the feeding of the herbage by the stream.</p> + +<p>But still more distinct evidence of its being indeed the expression of +happiness to which we look for our first pleasure in organic form, is +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p6">§ 6. Especially with respect to animals.</a></span>to be found in the way in which +we regard the bodily frame of animals: of which it is to be noted first, +that there is not anything which causes so intense and tormenting a +sense of ugliness as any scar, wound, monstrosity, or imperfection which +seems inconsistent with the animal's ease and health; and that although +in vegetables, where there is no immediate sense of pain, we are +comparatively little hurt by excrescences and irregularities, but are +sometimes even delighted with them, and fond of them, as <span class="pagenum"><a name="page095"></a>[Page 95]</span> +children of the oak-apple, and sometimes look upon them as more +interesting than the uninjured conditions, as in the gnarled and knotted +trunks of trees; yet the slightest approach to anything of the kind in +animal form is regarded <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p7">§ 7. And it is destroyed by evidences of +mechanism.</a></span>with intense horror, merely from the sense of pain it conveys. +And, in the second place, it is to be noted that whenever we dissect the +animal frame, or conceive it as dissected, and substitute in our ideas +the neatness of mechanical contrivance for the pleasure of the animal; +the moment we reduce enjoyment to ingenuity, and volition to leverage, +that instant all sense of beauty disappears. Take, for instance, the +action of the limb of the ostrich, which is beautiful so long as we see +it in its swift uplifting along the desert sands, and trace in the tread +of it her scorn of the horse and his rider, but would infinitely lose of +its impressiveness, if we could see the spring ligament playing +backwards and forwards in alternate jerks over the tubercle at the hock +joint. Take again the action of the dorsal fin of the shark tribe. So +long as we observe the uniform energy of motion in the whole frame, the +lash of the tail, bound of body, and instantaneous lowering of the +dorsal, to avoid the resistance of the water as it turns, there is high +sense of organic power and beauty. But when we dissect the dorsal, and +find that its superior ray is supported in its position by a peg in a +notch at its base, and that when the fin is to be lowered, the peg has +to be taken out, and when it is raised put in again; although we are +filled with wonder at the ingenuity of the mechanical contrivance, all +our sense of beauty is gone, and not to be recovered until we again see +the fin playing on the animal's body, apparently by its own will alone, +with the life running along its rays. It is by a beautiful ordinance of +the Creator that all these mechanisms are concealed from sight, though +open to investigation, and that in all which is outwardly manifested we +seem to see his presence rather than his workmanship, and the mysterious +breath of life, rather than the manipulation of matter.</p> + +<p>As, therefore, it appears from all evidence that it is the sense of +felicity which we first desire in organic form, it is evident from +reason, as demonstrable by experience, that those forms will be the most +beautiful (always, observe, leaving typical <span class="pagenum"><a name="page096"></a>[Page 96]</span> beauty out of the +question) which exhibit most of power, and seem capable of most quick +and joyous sensation. Hence we find gradations of beauty from the +apparent impenetrableness of hide and slow motion of the elephant and +rhinoceros, from the foul occupation of the vulture, from the earthy +struggling of the worm, to the brilliancy of the butterfly, the buoyancy +of the lark, the swiftness of the fawn and the horse, the fair and +kingly sensibility of man.</p> + +<p>Thus far then, the theoretic faculty is concerned with the happiness of +animals, and its exercise depends on the cultivation of the affections +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p8">§ 8. The second perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with +life is justice of moral judgment.</a></span>only. Let us next observe how it is +concerned with the moral functions of animals, and therefore how it is +dependent on the cultivation of every moral sense. There is not any +organic creature, but in its history and habits it shall exemplify or +illustrate to us some moral excellence or deficiency, or some point of +God's providential government, which it is necessary for us to know. +Thus the functions and the fates of animals are distributed to them, +with a variety which exhibits to us the dignity and results of almost +every passion and kind of conduct, some filthy and slothful, pining and +unhappy; some rapacious, restless, and cruel; some ever earnest and +laborious, and, I think, unhappy in their endless labor, creatures, like +the bee, that heap up riches and cannot tell who shall gather them, and +others employed like angels in endless offices of love and praise. Of +which when, in right condition of mind, we esteem those most beautiful, +whose functions are the most noble, whether as some, in mere energy, or +as others, in moral honor, so that we look with hate on the foulness of +the sloth, and the subtlety of the adder, and the rage of the hyena: +with the honor due to their earthly wisdom we invest the earnest ant and +unwearied bee; but we look with full perception of sacred function to +the tribes of burning plumage and choral voice.<a name="FnAnchor_34" href="#Footnote_34"><sup>[34]</sup></a> And so what lesson +we might receive for our earthly conduct from the creeping and laborious +things, was taught us by that earthly king who made silver to be in +Jerusalem <span class="pagenum"><a name="page097"></a>[Page 97]</span> as stones (yet thereafter was less rich towards +God). But from the lips of an heavenly King, who had not where to lay +his head, we were taught what lesson we have to learn from those higher +creatures who sow not, nor reap, nor gather into barns, for their +Heavenly Father feedeth them.</p> + +<p>There is much difficulty in the way of our looking with this rightly +balanced judgment on the moral functions of the animal tribes, owing to +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p9">§ 9. How impeded.</a></span>the independent and often opposing characters of +typical beauty, which are among them, as it seems, arbitrarily +distributed, so that the most fierce and cruel are often clothed in the +liveliest colors, and strengthened by the noblest forms, with this only +exception, that so far as I know, there is no high beauty in any +slothful animal, but even among those of prey, its characters exist in +exalted measure upon those that range and pursue, and are in equal +degree withdrawn from those that lie subtly and silently in the covert +of the reed and fens. But that mind only is fully disciplined in its +theoretic power, which can, when it chooses, throwing off the sympathies +and repugnancies with which the ideas of destructiveness or of innocence +accustom us to regard the animal tribes, as well as those meaner likes +and dislikes which arise, I think, from the greater or less resemblance +of animal powers to our own, can pursue the pleasures of typical beauty +down to the scales of the alligator, the coils of the serpent, and the +joints of the beetle; and again, on the other hand, regardless of the +impressions of typical beauty, accept from each creature, great or +small, the more important lessons taught by its position in creation as +sufferer or chastiser, as lowly or having dominion, as of foul habit or +lofty aspiration, and from the several perfections which all illustrate +or possess, courage, perseverance, industry, or intelligence, or, higher +yet, of love and <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p10">§ 10. The influence of moral signs in +expression.</a></span>patience, and fidelity and rejoicing, and never wearied +praise. Which moral perfections that they indeed are productive, in +proportion to their expression, of instant beauty instinctively felt, is +best proved by comparing those parts of animals in which they are +definitely expressed, as for instance the eye, of which we shall find +those ugliest which have in them no expression nor life whatever, but a +corpse-like stare, or an indefinite meaningless glaring, as in some +lights, those of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page098"></a>[Page 98]</span> owls and cats, and mostly of insects and of +all creatures in which the eye seems rather an external, optical +instrument than a bodily member through which emotion and virtue of soul +may be expressed, (as pre-eminently in the chameleon,) because the +seeming want of sensibility and vitality in a living creature is the +most painful of all wants. And next to these in ugliness come the eyes +that gain vitality indeed, but only by means of the expression of +intense malignity, as in the serpent and alligator; and next to these, +to whose malignity is added the virtue of subtlety and keenness, as of +the lynx and hawk; and then, by diminishing the malignity and increasing +the expressions of comprehensiveness and determination, we arrive at +those of the lion and eagle, and at last, by destroying malignity +altogether, at the fair eye of the herbivorous tribes, wherein the +<span class="correction" title="originally superioity">superiority</span> of beauty consists always in the greater or less sweetness +and gentleness primarily, as in the gazelle, camel, and ox, and in the +greater or less intellect, secondarily, as in the horse and dog, and +finally, in gentleness and intellect both in man. And again, taking the +mouth, another source of expression, we find it ugliest where it has +none, as mostly in fish, or perhaps where without gaining much in +expression of any kind, it becomes a formidable destructive instrument, +as again in the alligator, and then, by some increase of expression, we +arrive at birds' beaks, wherein there is more obtained by the different +ways of setting on the mandibles than is commonly supposed, (compare the +bills of the duck and the eagle,) and thence we reach the finely +developed lips of the carnivora, which nevertheless lose that beauty +they have, in the actions of snarling and biting, and from these we pass +to the nobler because gentler and more sensible, of the horse, camel, +and fawn, and so again up to man, only there is less traceableness of +the principle in the mouths of the lower animals, because they are in +slight measure only capable of expression, and chiefly used as +instruments, and that of low function, whereas in man the mouth is given +most definitely as a means of expression, beyond and above its lower +functions. Compare the remarks of Sir Charles Bell on this subject in +his Essay on Expression, and compare the mouth of the negro head given +by him (p. 28, third edition) with that of Raffaelle's St. Catherine. I +shall illustrate the subject farther hereafter by <span class="pagenum"><a name="page099"></a>[Page 99]</span> giving the +mouth of one of the demons of Orcagna's Inferno, with projecting +incisors, and that of a fish and a swine, in opposition to pure +graminivorous and human forms; but at present it is sufficient for my +purpose to insist on the single great principle, that, wherever +expression is possible, and uninterfered with by characters of typical +beauty, which confuse the subject exceedingly as regards the mouth, (for +the typical beauty of the carnivorous lips is on a grand scale, while it +exists in very low degree in the beaks of birds,) wherever, I say, these +considerations do not interfere, the beauty of the animal form is in +exact proportion to the amount of moral or intellectual virtue expressed +by it; and wherever beauty exists at all, there is some kind of virtue +to which it is owing, as the majesty of the lion's eye is owing not to +its ferocity, but to its seriousness and seeming intellect, and of the +lion's mouth to its strength and sensibility, and not its gnashing of +teeth, nor wrinkling in its wrath; and farther be it noted, that of the +intellectual or moral virtues, the moral are those which are attended +with most beauty, so that the gentle eye of the gazelle is fairer to +look upon than the more keen glance of men, if it be unkind.</p> + +<p>Of the parallel effects of expression upon plants there is little to be +noted, as the mere naming of the subject cannot but bring countless +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p11">§ 11. As also in plants.</a></span>illustrations to the mind of every reader: only +this, that, as we saw they were less susceptible of our sympathetic +love, owing to the absence in them of capability of enjoyment, so they +are less open to the affections based upon the expression of moral +virtue, owing to their want of volition; so that even on those of them +which are deadly and unkind we look not without pleasure, the more +because this their evil operation cannot be by them outwardly expressed, +but only by us empirically known; so that of the outward seemings and +expressions of plants, there are few but are in some way good and +therefore beautiful, as of humility, and modesty, and love of places and +things, in the reaching out of their arms, and clasping of their +tendrils; and energy of resistance, and patience of suffering, and +beneficence one towards another in shade and protection, and to us also +in scents and fruits (for of their healing virtues, however important to +us, there is no more outward sense nor seeming than of their properties +mortal or dangerous).</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page100"></a>[Page 100]</span></p> + +<p>Whence, in fine, looking to the whole kingdom of organic nature, we find +that our full receiving of its beauty depends first on the sensibility +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c12p12">§ 12 Recapitulation.</a></span>and then on the accuracy and touchstone faithfulness +of the heart in its moral judgments, so that it is necessary that we +should not only love all creatures well, but esteem them in that order +which is according to God's laws and not according to our own human +passions and predilections, not looking for swiftness, and strength, and +cunning, rather than for patience and kindness, still less delighting in +their animosity and cruelty one towards another, neither, if it may be +avoided, interfering with the working of nature in any way, nor, when we +interfere to obtain service, judging from the morbid conditions of the +animal or vegetable so induced; for we see every day the theoretic +faculty entirely destroyed in those who are interested in particular +animals, by their delight in the results of their own teaching, and by +the vain straining of curiosity for new forms such as nature never +intended, as the disgusting types for instance, which we see earnestly +sought for by the fanciers of rabbits and pigeons, and constantly in +horses, substituting for the true and balanced beauty of the free +creature some morbid development of a single power, as of swiftness in +the racer, at the expense, in certain measure, of the animal's healthy +constitution and fineness of form; and so the delight of horticulturists +in the spoiling of plants; so that in all cases we are to beware of such +opinions as seem in any way referable to human pride, or even to the +grateful or pernicious influence of things upon ourselves, and to cast +the mind free, and out of ourselves, humbly, and yet always in that +noble position of pause above the other visible creatures, nearer God +than they, which we authoritatively hold, thence looking down upon them, +and testing the clearness of our moral vision by the extent, and +fulness, and constancy of our pleasure in the light of God's love as it +embraces them, and the harmony of his holy laws, that forever bring +mercy out of rapine, and religion out of wrath.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_31" href="#FnAnchor_31">[31]</a> Soldanella Alpina.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_32" href="#FnAnchor_32">[32]</a> I would have Mr. Landseer, before he gives us any more writhing +otters, or yelping packs, reflect whether that which is best worthy of +contemplation in a hound be its ferocity, or in an otter its agony, or +in a human being its victory, hardly achieved even with the aid of its +more sagacious brutal allies over a poor little fish-catching creature, +a foot long.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_33" href="#FnAnchor_33">[33]</a> Compare Milton.</p> + +<p class="poemq2"> + "They at her coming sprung <br /> + And touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew" +</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_34" href="#FnAnchor_34">[34]</a></p> + +<p class="poemq"> + "Type of the wise—who soar, but never roam, <br /> + True to the kindred points of heaven and home." +</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 30%; ">(<span class="sc">Wordsworth.</span>—To the Skylark.)</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page101"></a>[Page 101]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3> + +<h5>OF VITAL BEAUTY.—SECONDLY AS GENERIC.</h5> + +<p>Hitherto we have observed the conclusions of the theoretic faculty with +respect to the relations of happiness, and of more or less exalted <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p1">§ 1. +The beauty of fulfilment of appointed function in every animal.</a></span>function +existing between different orders of organic being. But we must pursue +the inquiry farther yet, and observe what impressions of beauty are +connected with more or less perfect fulfilment of the appointed function +by different individuals of the same species. We are now no longer +called to pronounce upon worthiness of occupation or dignity of +disposition; but both employment and capacity being known, and the +animal's position and duty fixed, we have to regard it in that respect +alone, comparing it with other individuals of its species, and to +determine how far it worthily executes its office; whether, if scorpion, +it hath poison enough, or if tiger, strength enough, or if dove, +innocence enough, to sustain rightly its place in creation, and come up +to the perfect idea of dove, tiger, or scorpion.</p> + +<p>In the first or sympathetic operation of the theoretic faculty, it will +be remembered, we receive pleasure from the signs of mere happiness in +living things. In the second theoretic operation of comparing and +judging, we constituted ourselves such judges of the lower creatures as +Adam was made by God when they were brought to him to be named, and we +allowed of beauty in them as they reached, more or less, to that +standard of moral perfection by which we test ourselves. But, in the +third place, we are to come down again from the judgment seat, and +taking it for granted that every creature of God is in some way good, +and has a duty and specific operation providentially accessory to the +well-being of all, we are to look in this faith to that employment and +nature of each, and to derive pleasure from their entire perfection and +fitness for the duty they have to do, and in their entire fulfilment of +it: and so we are to take pleasure and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page102"></a>[Page 102]</span> find beauty in the +magnificent binding together of the jaws of the ichthyosaurus for +catching and holding, and in the adaptation of the lion for springing, +and of the locust for destroying, and of the lark for singing, and in +every creature for the doing of that which God has made it to do. Which +faithful pleasure in the perception of the perfect operation of lower +creatures I have placed last among the perfections of the theoretic +faculty concerning them, because it is commonly last acquired, both +owing to the humbleness and trustfulness of heart which it demands, and +because it implies a knowledge of the habits and structure of every +creature, such as we can but imperfectly possess.</p> + +<p>The perfect <i>idea</i> of the form and condition in which all the properties +of the species are fully developed, is called the ideal of the species. +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p2">§ 2. The two senses of the word "ideal." Either it refers to action of +the imagination.</a></span>The question of the nature of ideal conception of +species, and of the mode in which the mind arrives at it, has been the +subject of so much discussion, and source of so much embarrassment, +chiefly owing to that unfortunate distinction between idealism and +realism which leads most people to imagine the ideal opposed to the +real, and therefore <i>false</i>, that I think it necessary to request the +reader's most careful attention to the following positions.</p> + +<p>Any work of art which represents, not a material object, but the mental +conception of a material object, is, in the primary sense of the word +ideal; that is to say, it represents an idea, and not a thing. Any work +of art which represents or realizes a material object, is, in the +primary sense of the term, unideal.</p> + +<p>Ideal works of art, therefore, in this first sense, represent the result +of an act of imagination, and are good or bad in proportion to the +healthy condition and general power of the imagination, whose acts they +represent.</p> + +<p>Unideal works of art (the studious production of which is termed +realism) represent actual existing things, and are good or bad in +proportion to the perfection of the representation.</p> + +<p>All entirely bad works of art may be divided into those which, +professing to be imaginative, bear no stamp of imagination, and are +therefore false, and those which, professing to be representative of +matter, miss of the representation and are therefore nugatory.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page103"></a>[Page 103]</span></p> + +<p>It is the habit of most observers to regard art as representative of +matter, and to look only for the entireness of representation; and it +was to this view of art that I limited the arguments of the former +sections of the present work, wherein having to oppose the conclusions +of a criticism entirely based upon the realist system, I was compelled +to meet that criticism on its own grounds. But the greater part of works +of art, more especially those devoted to the expression of ideas of +beauty, are the results of the agency of imagination, their worthiness +depending, as above stated, on the healthy condition of the imagination.</p> + +<p>Hence it is necessary for us, in order to arrive at conclusions +respecting the worthiness of such works, to define and examine the +nature of the imaginative faculty, and to determine first what are the +signs or conditions of its existence at all; and secondly, what are the +evidences of its healthy and efficient existence, upon which examination +I shall enter in the second section of the present part.</p> + +<p>But there is another sense of the word ideal besides this, and it is +that with which we are here concerned. It is evident that, so long as we +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p3">§ 3. Or to perfection of type.</a></span>use the word to signify that art which +represents ideas and not things, we may use it as truly of the art which +represents an idea of Caliban, and not real Caliban, as of the art which +represents an idea of Antinous, and not real Antinous. For that is as +much imagination which conceives the monster as which conceives the man. +If, however, Caliban and Antinous be creatures of the same species, and +the form of the one contain not the fully developed types or characters +of the species, while the form of the other presents the greater part of +them, then the latter is said to be a form more ideal than the other, as +a nearer approximation to the general idea or conception of the species.</p> + +<p>Now it is evident that this use of the word ideal is much less accurate +than the other, from which it is derived, for it rests on the assumption +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p4">§ 4. This last sense how inaccurate, yet to be retained.</a></span>that the +assemblage of all the characters of a species in their perfect +development cannot exist but in the imagination. For if it can actually +and in reality exist, it is not right to call it ideal or imaginary; it +would be better to call it characteristic or <span class="pagenum"><a name="page104"></a>[Page 104]</span> general, and to +reserve the word ideal for the results of the operation of the +imagination, either on the perfect or imperfect forms.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the word ideal has been so long and universally accepted +in this sense, that I think it better to continue the use of it, so only +that the reader will be careful to observe the distinction in the sense, +according to the subject matter under discussion. At present then, using +it as expressive of the noble generic form which indicates the full +perfection of the creature in all its functions, I wish to examine how +far this perception exists or may exist in nature, and if not in nature, +how it is by us discoverable or imaginable.</p> + +<p>Now it is better, when we wish to arrive at truth, always to take +familiar instances, wherein the mind is not likely to be biassed by any +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p5">§ 5. Of Ideal form. First, in the lower animals.</a></span>elevated associations or +favorite theories. Let us ask therefore, first, what kind of ideal form +may be attributed to a limpet or an oyster, that is to say, whether all +oysters do or do not come up to the entire notion or idea of an oyster. +I apprehend that, although in respect of size, age, and kind of feeding, +there may be some difference between them, yet of those which are of +full size and healthy condition there will be found many which fulfil +the conditions of an oyster in every respect, and that so perfectly, +that we could not, by combining the features of two or more together, +produce a more perfect oyster than any that we see. I suppose also, +that, out of a number of healthy fish, birds, or beasts of the same +species, it would not be easy to select an individual as superior to +<i>all</i> the rest; neither by comparing two or more of the nobler examples +together, to arrive at the conception of a form superior to that of +either; but that, though the accidents of more abundant food or more +fitting habitation may induce among them some varieties of size, +strength, and color, yet the entire generic form would be presented by +many, neither would any art be able to add to or diminish from it.</p> + +<p>It is, therefore, hardly right to use the word ideal of the generic +forms of these creatures, of which we see actual examples; but if we are +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p6">§ 6. In what consistent.</a></span>to use it, then be it distinctly understood that +their ideality consists in the full development of all the powers and +properties of the creature as such, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page105"></a>[Page 105]</span> is inconsistent with +accidental or imperfect developments, and even with great variation from +average size, the ideal size being neither gigantic nor diminutive, but +the utmost grandeur and entireness of proportion at a certain point +above the mean size; for as more individuals always fall short of +generic size than rise above it, the generic is above the average or +mean size. And this perfection of the creature invariably involves the +utmost possible degree of all those properties of beauty, both typical +and vital, which it is appointed to possess.</p> + +<p>Let us next observe the conditions of ideality in vegetables. Out of a +large number of primroses or violets, I apprehend that, although one or +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p7">§ 7. Ideal form in vegetables.</a></span>two might be larger than all the rest, the +greater part would be very sufficient primroses and violets. And that we +could, by no study nor combination of violets, conceive of a better +violet than many in the bed. And so generally of the blossoms and +separate members of all vegetables.</p> + +<p>But among the entire forms of the complex vegetables, as of oak-trees, +for instance, there exists very large and constant difference, some +being what we hold to be fine oaks, as in parks, and places where they +are taken care of, and have their own way, and some are but poor and +mean oaks, which have had no one to take care of them, but have been +obliged to maintain themselves.</p> + +<p>That which we have to determine is, whether ideality be predicable of +the fine oaks only, or whether the poor and mean oaks also may be +considered as ideal, that is, coming up to the conditions of oak, and +the general notion of oak.</p> + +<p>Now there is this difference between the positions held in creation by +animals and plants, and thence in the dispositions with which we regard +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p8">§ 8. The difference of position between plants and animals.</a></span>them; that +the animals, being for the most part locomotive, are capable both of +living where they choose, and of obtaining what food they want, and of +fulfilling all the conditions necessary to their health and perfection. +For which reason they are answerable for such health and perfection, and +we should be displeased and hurt if we did not find it in one individual +as well as another.</p> + +<p>But the case is evidently different with plants. They are intended +fixedly to occupy many places comparatively unfit for them, and to fill +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p9">§ 9. Admits of variety in the ideal of the former.</a></span>up all the spaces +where greenness, and coolness, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page106"></a>[Page 106]</span> and ornament, and oxygen are +wanted, and that with very little reference to their comfort or +convenience. Now it would be hard upon the plant if, after being tied to +a particular spot, where it is indeed much wanted, and is a great +blessing, but where it has enough to do to live, whence it cannot move +to obtain what it wants or likes, but must stretch its unfortunate arms +here and there for bare breath and light, and split its way among rocks, +and grope for sustenance in unkindly soil; it would be hard upon the +plant, I say, if under all these disadvantages, it were made answerable +for its appearance, and found fault with because it was not a fine plant +of the kind. And so we find it ordained that in order that no unkind +comparisons may be drawn between one and another, there are not +appointed to plants the fixed number, position, and proportion of +members which are ordained in animals, (and any variation from which in +these is unpardonable,) but a continually varying number and position, +even among the more freely growing examples, admitting therefore all +kinds of license to those which have enemies to contend with, and that +without in any way detracting from their dignity and perfection.</p> + +<p>So then there is in trees no perfect form which can be fixed upon or +reasoned out as ideal; but that is always an ideal oak which, however +poverty-stricken, or hunger-pinched, or tempest-tortured, is yet seen to +have done, under its appointed circumstances, all that could be expected +of oak.</p> + +<p>The ideal, therefore, of the park oak is that to which I alluded in the +conclusion of the former part of this work, full size, united terminal +curve, equal and symmetrical range of branches on each side. The ideal +of the mountain oak may be anything, twisting, and leaning, and +shattered, and rock-encumbered, so only that amidst all its misfortunes, +it maintain the dignity of oak; and, indeed, I look upon this kind of +tree as more ideal than the other, in so far as by its efforts and +struggles, more of its nature, enduring power, patience in waiting for, +and ingenuity in obtaining what it wants, is brought out, and so more of +the essence of oak exhibited, than under more fortunate conditions.</p> + +<p>And herein, then, we at last find the cause of that fact which <span class="pagenum"><a name="page107"></a>[Page +107]</span> we have twice already noted, that the exalted or seemingly improved +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p10">§ 10. Ideal form in vegetables destroyed by cultivation.</a></span>condition, +whether of plant or animal, induced by human interference, is not the +true and artistical ideal of it.<a name="FnAnchor_35" href="#Footnote_35"><sup>[35]</sup></a> It has been well shown by Dr. +Herbert,<a name="FnAnchor_36" href="#Footnote_36"><sup>[36]</sup></a> that many plants are found alone on a certain soil or +subsoil in a wild state, not because such soil is favorable to them, but +because they alone are capable of existing on it, and because all +dangerous rivals are by its inhospitality removed. Now if we withdraw +the plant from this position, which it hardly endures, and supply it +with the earth, and maintain about it the temperature that it delights +in; withdrawing from it at the same time all rivals which, in such +conditions nature would have thrust upon it, we shall indeed obtain a +magnificently developed example of the plant, colossal in size, and +splendid in organization, but we shall utterly lose in it that moral +ideal which is dependent on its right fulfilment of its appointed +functions. It was intended and created by the Deity for the covering of +those lonely spots where no other plant could live; it has been thereto +endowed with courage, and strength, and capacities of endurance +unequalled; its character and glory are not therefore in the gluttonous +and idle feeling of its own over luxuriance, at the expense of other +creatures utterly destroyed and rooted out for its good alone, but in +its right doing of its hard duty; and forward climbing into those spots +of forlorn hope where it alone can bear witness to the kindness and +presence of the Spirit that cutteth out rivers among the rocks, as it +covers the valleys with corn: and there, in its vanward place, and only +there, where nothing is withdrawn for it, nor hurt by it, and where +nothing can take part of its honor, nor usurp its throne, are its +strength, and fairness, and price, and goodness in the sight of God, to +be truly esteemed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page108"></a>[Page 108]</span></p> + +<p>The first time that I saw the soldanella alpina, before spoken of, it +was growing, of magnificent size, on a sunny Alpine pasture, among <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p11">§ 11. +Instance in the Soldanella and Ranunculus.</a></span>bleating of sheep and lowing +of cattle, associated with a profusion of geum montanum, and ranunculus +pyrenęus. I noticed it only because new to me, nor perceived any +peculiar beauty in its cloven flower. Some days after, I found it alone, +among the rack of the higher clouds, and howling of glacier winds, and, +as I described it, piercing through an edge of avalanche, which in its +retiring had left the new ground brown and lifeless, and as if burned by +recent fire; the plant was poor and feeble, and seemingly exhausted with +its efforts, but it was then that I comprehended its ideal character, +and saw its noble function and order of glory among the constellations +of the earth.</p> + +<p>The ranunculus glacialis might perhaps, by cultivation, be blanched from +its wan and corpse-like paleness to purer white, and won to more +branched and lofty development of its ragged leaves. But the ideal of +the plant is to be found only in the last, loose stones of the moraine, +alone there; wet with the cold, unkindly drip of the glacier water, and +trembling as the loose and steep dust to which it clings yields ever and +anon, and shudders and crumbles away from about its root.</p> + +<p>And if it be asked how this conception of the utmost beauty of ideal +form is consistent with what we formerly argued respecting the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p12">§ 12. The +beauty of repose and felicity, how consistent with such +ideal.</a></span>pleasantness of the appearance of felicity in the creature, let it +be observed, and forever held, that the right and true happiness of +every creature, is in this very discharge of its function, and in those +efforts by which its strength and inherent energy are developed: and +that the repose of which we also spoke as necessary to all beauty, is, +as was then stated, repose not of inanition, nor of luxury, nor of +irresolution, but the repose of magnificent energy and being; in action, +the calmness of trust and determination; in rest, the consciousness of +duty accomplished and of victory won, and this repose and this felicity +can take place as well in the midst of trial and tempest, as beside the +waters of comfort; they perish only when the creature is either +unfaithful to itself, or is afflicted by circumstances unnatural and +malignant to its being, and for the contending with <span class="pagenum"><a name="page109"></a>[Page 109]</span> which it +was neither fitted nor ordained. Hence that rest which is indeed +glorious is of the chamois couched breathless on his granite bed, not of +the stalled ox over his fodder, and that happiness which is indeed +beautiful is in the bearing of those trial tests which are appointed for +the proving of every creature, whether it be good, or whether it be +evil; and in the fulfilment to the uttermost of every command it has +received, and the out-carrying to the uttermost of every power and gift +it has gotten from its God.</p> + +<p>Therefore the task of the painter in his pursuit of ideal form is to +attain accurate knowledge, so far as may be in his power, of the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p13">§ 13. +The ideality of Art.</a></span>character, habits, and peculiar virtues and duties +of every species of being; down even to the stone, for there is an +ideality of stones according to their kind, an ideality of granite and +slate and marble, and it is in the utmost and most exalted exhibition of +such individual character, order, and use, that all ideality of art +consists. The more cautious he is in assigning the right species of moss +to its favorite trunk, and the right kind of weed to its necessary +stone, in marking the definite and characteristic leaf, blossom, seed, +fracture, color, and inward anatomy of everything, the more truly ideal +his work becomes. All confusion of species, all careless rendering of +character, all unnatural and arbitrary association, is vulgar and +unideal in proportion to its degree.</p> + +<p>It is to be noted, however, that nature sometimes in a measure herself +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p14">§ 14. How connected with the imaginative faculties.</a></span>conceals these +generic differences, and that when she displays them it is commonly on a +scale too small for human hand to follow.</p> + +<p>The pursuit and seizure of the generic differences in their concealment, +and the display of them on a larger and more palpable scale, is one of +the wholesome and healthy operations of the imagination of which we are +presently to speak.<a name="FnAnchor_37" href="#Footnote_37"><sup>[37]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Generic differences being commonly exhibited by art in different manner +and way from that of their natural occurrence, are in this respect more +strictly and truly ideal in art than in reality.</p> + +<p>This only remains to be noted, that, of all creatures whose <span class="pagenum"><a name="page110"></a>[Page 110]</span> +existence involves birth, progress, and dissolution, ideality is <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c13p15">§ 15. +Ideality, how belonging to ages and conditions.</a></span>predicable all through +their existence, so that they be perfect with reference to their +supposed period of being. Thus there is an ideal of infancy, of youth, +of old age, of death, and of decay. But when the ideal form of the +species is spoken of or conceived in general terms, the form is +understood to be of that period when the generic attributes are +perfectly developed, and previous to the commencement of their decline. +At which period all the characters of vital and typical beauty are +commonly most concentrated in them, though the arrangement and +proportion of these characters varies at different periods, youth having +more of the vigorous beauty, and age of the reposing; youth of typical +outward fairness, and age of expanded and etherealized moral expression; +the babe, again, in some measure atoning in gracefulness for its want of +strength, so that the balanced glory of the creature continues in solemn +interchange, perhaps even</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Filling more and more with crystal light, <br /> + As pensive evening deepens into night." +</p> + +<p>Hitherto, however, we have confined ourselves to the examination of +ideal form in the lower animals, and we have found that, to arrive at +it, no combination of forms nor exertion of fancy is required, but only +simple choice among those naturally presented, together with careful +investigation and anatomizing of the habits of the creatures. I fear we +shall arrive at a very different conclusion, in considering the ideal +form of man.</p> + + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_35" href="#FnAnchor_35">[35]</a> I speak not here of those conditions of vegetation which have +especial reference to man, as of seeds and fruits, whose sweetness and +farina seem in great measure given, not for the plant's sake, but for +his, and to which therefore the interruption in the harmony of creation +of which he was the cause is extended, and their sweetness and larger +measure of good to be obtained only by his redeeming labor. His curse +has fallen on the corn and the vine, and the wild barley misses of its +fulness, that he may eat bread by the sweat of his brow.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_36" href="#FnAnchor_36">[36]</a> Journal of the Horticultural Society. Part I.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_37" href="#FnAnchor_37">[37]</a> Compare Sect. II. Chap. IV.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page111"></a>[Page 111]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3> + +<h5>OF VITAL BEAUTY.—THIRDLY, IN MAN.</h5> + +<p>Having thus passed gradually through all the orders and fields of +creation, and traversed that goodly line of God's happy creatures who +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p1">§ 1. Condition of the human creature entirely different from that of the +lower animals.</a></span>"leap not, but express a feast, where all the guests sit +close, and nothing wants," without finding any deficiency which human +invention might supply, nor any harm which human interference might +mend, we come at last to set ourselves face to face with ourselves, +expecting that in creatures made after the image of God we are to find +comeliness and completion more exquisite than in the fowls of the air +and the things that pass through the paths of the sea.</p> + +<p>But behold now a sudden change from all former experience. No longer +among the individuals of the race is there equality or likeness, a +distributed fairness and fixed type visible in each, but evil diversity, +and terrible stamp of various degradation; features seamed with +sickness, dimmed by sensuality, convulsed by passion, pinched by +poverty, shadowed by sorrow, branded with remorse; bodies consumed with +sloth, broken down by labor, tortured by disease, dishonored in foul +uses; intellects without power, hearts without hope, minds earthly and +devilish; our bones full of the sin of our youth, the heaven revealing +our iniquity, the earth rising up against us, the roots dried up +beneath, and the branch cut off above; well for us only, if, after +beholding this our natural face in a glass, we desire not straightway +to forget what manner of men we be.</p> + +<p>Herein there is at last something, and too much, for that short stopping +intelligence and dull perception of ours to accomplish, whether in <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p2">§ 2. +What room here for idealization.</a></span>earnest fact, or in the seeking for the +outward image of beauty:—to undo the devil's work, to restore to the +body the grace and the power which inherited disease has destroyed, to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page112"></a>[Page 112]</span> return to the spirit the purity, and to the intellect the +grasp that they had in Paradise. Now, first of all, this work, be it +observed is in no respect a work of imagination. Wrecked we are, and +nearly all to pieces; but that little good by which we are to redeem +ourselves is to be got out of the old wreck, beaten about and full of +sand though it be; and not out of that desert island of pride on which +the devils split first, and we after them: and so the only restoration +of the body that we can reach is not to be coined out of our fancies, +but to be collected out of such uninjured and bright vestiges of the old +seal as we can find and set together, and so the ideal of the features, +as the good and perfect soul is seen in them, is not to be reached by +imagination, but by the seeing and reaching forth of the better part of +the soul to that of which it must first know the sweetness and goodness +in itself, before it can much desire, or rightly find, the signs of it +in others.</p> + +<p>I say much desire and rightly find, because there is not any soul so +sunk but that it shall in some measure feel the impression of mental +beauty in the human features, and detest in others its own likeness, and +in itself despise that which of itself it has made.</p> + +<p>Now, of the ordinary process by which the realization of ideal bodily +form is reached, there is explanation enough in all treatises on art, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p3">§ 3. How the conception of the bodily ideal is reached.</a></span>and it is so far +well comprehended that I need not stay long to consider it. So far as +the sight and knowledge of the human form, of the purest race, exercised +from infancy constantly, but not excessively in all exercises of +dignity, not in twists and straining dexterities, but in natural +exercises of running, casting, or riding; practised in endurance, not of +extraordinary hardship, for that hardens and degrades the body, but of +natural hardship, vicissitudes of winter and summer, and cold and heat, +yet in a climate where none of these are severe; surrounded also by a +certain degree of right luxury, so as to soften and refine the forms of +strength; so far as the sight of all this could render the mental +intelligence of what is right in human form so acute as to be able to +abstract and combine from the best examples so produced, that which was +most perfect in each, so far the Greek conceived and attained the ideal +of bodily form: <span class="pagenum"><a name="page113"></a>[Page 113]</span> and on the Greek modes of attaining it, as +well as on what he produced, as a perfect example of it, chiefly dwell +those writers whose opinions on this subject I have collected; wholly +losing sight of what seems to me the most important branch of the +inquiry, namely, the influence for good or evil of the mind upon the +bodily shape, the wreck of the mind itself, and the modes by which we +may conceive of its restoration.</p> + +<p>Now, the operation of the mind upon the body, and evidence of it <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p4">§ 4. +Modifications of the bodily ideal owing to influence of mind. First, of +intellect.</a></span>thereon, may be considered under the following three general +heads.</p> + +<p>First, the operation of the intellectual powers upon the features, in +the fine cutting and chiselling of them, and removal from them of signs +of sensuality and sloth, by which they are blunted and deadened, and +substitution of energy and intensity for vacancy and insipidity, (by +which wants alone the faces of many fair women are utterly spoiled and +rendered valueless,) and by the keenness given to the eye and fine +moulding and development to the brow, of which effects Sir Charles Bell +has well noted the desirableness and opposition to brutal types, (p. 59, +third edition;) only this he has not sufficiently observed, that there +are certain virtues of the intellect in measure inconsistent with each +other, as perhaps great subtlety with great comprehensiveness, and high +analytical with high imaginative power, or that at least, if consistent +and compatible, their signs upon the features are not the same, so that +the outward form cannot express both, without in a measure expressing +neither; and so there are certain separate virtues of the outward form +correspondent with the more constant employment or more prevailing +capacity of the brain, as the piercing keenness, or open and reflective +comprehensiveness of the eye and forehead, and that all these virtues of +form are ideal, only those the most so which are the signs of the +worthiest powers of intellect, though which these be, we will not at +present stay to inquire.</p> + +<p>The second point to be considered in the influence of mind upon body, is +the mode of operation and conjunction of the moral feelings on and with +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p5">§ 5. Secondly, of the moral feelings.</a></span>the intellectual powers, and then +their conjoint influence on the bodily form. Now, the operation of the +right moral feelings <span class="pagenum"><a name="page114"></a>[Page 114]</span> on the intellect is always for the good +of the latter, for it is not possible that selfishness should reason +rightly in any respect, but must be blind in its estimation of the +worthiness of all things, neither anger, for that overpowers the reason +or outcries it, neither sensuality, for that overgrows and chokes it, +neither agitation, for that has no time to compare things together, +neither enmity, for that must be unjust, neither fear, for that +exaggerates all things, neither cunning and deceit, for that which is +voluntarily untrue will soon be unwittingly so: but the great reasoners +are self-command, and trust unagitated, and deep-looking Love, and +Faith, which as she is above Reason, so she best holds the reins of it +from her high seat: so that they err grossly who think of the right +development even of the intellectual type as possible, unless we look to +higher sources of beauty first. Nevertheless, though in their operation +<i>upon</i> them the moral feelings are thus elevatory of the mental +faculties, yet in their conjunction <i>with</i> them they seem to occupy, in +their own fulness, such room as to absorb and overshadow all else, so +that the simultaneous exercise of both is in a sort impossible; for +which cause we occasionally find the moral part in full development and +action, without corresponding expanding of the intellect (though never +without healthy condition of it,) as in that of Wordsworth,</p> + +<p class="poemq3"> + "In such high hour <br /> + Of visitation from the Living God, <br /> + Thought was not;" +</p> + +<p class="noind">only I think that if we look far enough, we shall find that it is not +intelligence itself, but the immediate act and effort of a laborious, +struggling, and imperfect intellectual faculty, with which high moral +emotion is inconsistent; and that though we cannot, while we feel +deeply, reason shrewdly, yet I doubt if, <i>except</i> when we feel deeply, +we can ever comprehend fully; so that it is only the climbing and +mole-like piercing, and not the sitting upon their central throne, nor +emergence into light, of the intellectual faculties which the full heart +feeling allows not. Hence, therefore, in the indications of the +countenance, they are only the hard cut lines, and rigid settings, and +wasted hollows, that speak of past effort and painfulness of mental +application, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page115"></a>[Page 115]</span> which are inconsistent with expression of moral +feeling, for all these are of infelicitous augury; but not the full and +serene development of habitual command in the look, and solemn thought +in the brow, only these, in their unison with the signs of emotion, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p6">§ 6. What beauty is bestowed by them</a></span>become softened and gradually +confounded with a serenity and authority of nobler origin. But of the +sweetness which that higher serenity (of happiness,) and the dignity +which that higher authority (of Divine law, and not human reason,) can +and must stamp on the features, it would be futile to speak here at +length, for I suppose that both are acknowledged on all hands, and that +there is not any beauty but theirs to which men pay long obedience: at +all events, if not by sympathy discovered, it is not in words explicable +with what divine lines and lights the exercise of godliness and charity +will mould and gild the hardest and coldest countenance, neither to what +darkness their departure will consign the loveliest. For there is not +any virtue the exercise of which, even momentarily, will not impress a +new fairness upon the features, neither on them only, but on the whole +body, both the intelligence and the moral faculties have operation, for +even all the movement and gestures, however slight, are different in +their modes according to the mind that governs them, and on the +gentleness and decision of just feeling there follows a grace of action, +and through continuance of this a grace of form, which by no discipline +may be taught or attained.</p> + +<p>The third point to be considered with respect to the corporeal +expression of mental character is, that there is a certain period of the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p7">§ 7. How the soul culture interferes harmfully with the bodily +ideal.</a></span>soul culture when it begins to interfere with some of the +characters of typical beauty belonging to the bodily frame, the stirring +of the intellect wearing down the flesh, and the moral enthusiasm +burning its way out to heaven, through the emaciation of the earthen +vessel; and that there is, in this indication of subduing of the mortal +by the immortal part, an ideal glory of perhaps a purer and higher range +than that of the more perfect material form. We conceive, I think, more +nobly of the weak presence of Paul, than of the fair and ruddy +countenance of Daniel.</p> + +<p>Now, be it observed that in our consideration of these three directions +of mental influence, we have several times been compelled <span class="pagenum"><a name="page116"></a>[Page 116]</span> to +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p8">§ 8. The inconsistency among the effects of the mental virtues on the +form.</a></span>stop short of definite conclusions owing to the apparent +inconsistency of certain excellences and beauties to which they tend, +as, first, of different kinds of intellect with each other; and +secondly, of the moral faculties with the intellectual, (and if we had +separately examined the moral emotions, we should have found certain +inconsistencies among them also,) and again of the soul culture +generally with the bodily perfections. Such inconsistencies we should +find in the perfections of no other animal. The strength or swiftness of +the dog are not inconsistent with his sagacity, nor is bodily labor in +the ant or bee destructive of their acuteness of instinct. And this +peculiarity of relation among the perfections of man is no result of his +fall or sinfulness, but an evidence of his greater nobility, and of the +goodness <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p9">§ 9. Is a sign of God's kind purpose towards the race.</a></span>of God +towards him. For the individuals of each race of lower animals, being +not intended to hold among each other those relations of charity which +are the privilege of humanity, are not adapted to each other's +assistance, admiration, or support, by differences of power and +function. But the love of the human race is increased by their +individual differences, and the unity of the creature, as before we saw +of all unity, made perfect by each having something to bestow and to +receive, bound to the rest by a thousand various necessities and various +gratitudes, humility in each rejoicing to admire in his fellow that +which he finds not in himself, and each being in some respect the +complement of his race. Therefore, in investigating the signs of the +ideal or perfect type of humanity, we must not presume on the singleness +of that type, and yet, on the other hand, we must cautiously distinguish +between differences conceivably existing in a perfect state, and +differences resulting from immediate and present operation of the +Adamite curse. Of which the former are differences that bind, and the +latter that separate. For although we can suppose the ideal or perfect +human heart, and the perfect human intelligence, equally adapted to +receive every right sensation and pursue every order of truth, yet as it +is appointed for some to be in authority and others in obedience, some +in solitary functions and others in relative ones, some to receive and +others to give, some to teach and some to discover; <span class="pagenum"><a name="page117"></a>[Page 117]</span> and as +all these varieties of office are not only conceivable as existing in a +perfect state of man, but seem almost to be implied by it, and at any +rate cannot be done away with but by a total change of his constitution +and dependencies, of which the imagination can take no hold; so there +are habits and capacities of expression induced by these various <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p10">§ 10. +Consequent separation and difference of ideals.</a></span>offices, which admit of +many separate ideals of equal perfection, according to the functions of +the creatures, so that there is an ideal of authority, of judgment, of +affection, of reason, and of faith; neither can any combination of these +ideals be attained, not that the just judge is to be supposed incapable +of affection, nor the king incapable of obedience, but as it is +impossible that any essence short of the Divine should at the same +instant be equally receptive of all emotions, those emotions which, by +right and order, have the most usual victory, both leave the stamp of +their habitual presence on the body, and render the individual more and +more susceptible of them in proportion to the frequency of their +prevalent recurrence; added to which causes of distinctive character are +to be taken into account the differences of age and sex, which, though +seemingly of more finite influence, cannot be banished from any human +conception. David, ruddy and of a fair countenance, with the brook stone +of deliverance in his hand, is not more ideal than David leaning on the +old age of Barzillai, returning chastened to his kingly home. And they +who are as the angels of God in heaven, yet cannot be conceived as so +assimilated that their different experiences and affections upon earth +shall then be forgotten and effectless: the child taken early to his +place cannot be imagined to wear there such a body, nor to have such +thoughts, as the glorified apostle who has finished his course and kept +the faith on earth. And so whatever perfections and likeness of love we +may attribute to either the tried or the crowned creatures, there is the +difference of the stars in glory among them yet; differences of original +gifts, though not of occupying till their Lord come, different +dispensations of trial and of trust, of sorrow and support, both in +their own inward, variable hearts, and in their positions of exposure or +of peace, of the gourd shadow and the smiting sun, of calling at heat of +day or eleventh hour, of the house unroofed by faith, and the clouds +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page118"></a>[Page 118]</span> opened by revelation: differences in warning, in mercies, in +sicknesses, in signs, in time of calling to account; like only they all +are by that which is not of them, but the gift of God's unchangeable +mercy. "I will give unto this last even as unto thee."</p> + +<p>Hence, then, be it observed, that what we must determinedly banish from +the human form and countenance in our seeking of its ideal, is not <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p11">§ 11. +The <i>effects</i> of the Adamite curse are to be distinguished from signs of +its immediate activity.</a></span>everything which can be ultimately traced to the +Adamite fall for its cause, but only the immediate operation and +presence of the degrading power or sin. For there is not any part of our +feeling of nature, nor can there be through eternity, which shall not be +in some way influenced and affected by the fall, and that not in any way +of degradation, for the renewing in the divinity of Christ is a nobler +condition than ever that of Paradise, and yet throughout eternity it +must imply and refer to the disobedience, and the corrupt state of sin +and death, and the suffering of Christ himself, which can we conceive of +any redeemed soul as for an instant forgetting, or as remembering +without sorrow? Neither are the alternations of joy and such sorrow as +by us is inconceivable, being only as it were a softness and silence in +the pulse of an infinite felicity, inconsistent with the state even of +the unfallen, for the angels who rejoice over repentance cannot but feel +an uncomprehended pain as they try and try again in vain, whether they +may not warm hard <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p12">§ 12. Which latter only are to be banished from ideal +form.</a></span>hearts with the brooding of their kind wings. So that we have not +to banish from the ideal countenance the evidences of sorrow, nor of +past suffering, nor even of past and conquered sin, but only the +immediate operation of any evil, or the immediate coldness and +hollowness of any good emotion. And hence in that contest before noted, +between the body and the soul, we may often have to indicate the body as +far conquered and outworn, and with signs of hard struggle and bitter +pain upon it, and yet without ever diminishing the purity of its ideal; +and because it is not in the power of any human imagination to reason +out or conceive the countless modifications of experience, suffering, +and separated feeling, which have modelled and written their indelible +images in various order upon every human countenance, so <span class="pagenum"><a name="page119"></a>[Page 119]</span> no +right ideal can be reached by any combination of feature nor by any +moulding and melting of individual beauties together, and still less +without model or example conceived; but there is a perfect ideal to be +wrought out of <i>every</i> face around us that has on its forehead the +writing and the seal of the angel ascending from the East,<a name="FnAnchor_38" href="#Footnote_38"><sup>[38]</sup></a> by the +earnest study and penetration of the written history thereupon, and the +banishing of the blots and stains, wherein we still see in all that is +human, the visible and instant operation of unconquered sin.</p> + +<p>Now I see not how any of the steps of the argument by which we have +arrived at this conclusion can be evaded, and yet it would be difficult +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p13">§ 13. Ideal form is only to be obtained by portraiture.</a></span>to state anything +more directly opposite to the usual teaching and practice of artists. It +is usual to hear portraiture opposed to the pursuit of ideality, and yet +we find that no face can be ideal which is not a portrait. Of this +general principle, however, there are certain modifications which we +must presently state; let us first, however, pursue it a little farther, +and deduce its practical consequences.</p> + +<p>These are, first, that the pursuit of idealism in humanity, as of +idealism in lower nature, can be successful only when followed through +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p14">§ 14. Instances among the greater of the ideal Masters.</a></span>the most +constant, patient, and humble rendering of actual models, accompanied +with that earnest mental as well as ocular study of each, which can +interpret all that is written upon it, disentangle the hieroglyphics of +its sacred history, rend the veil of the bodily temple, and rightly +measure the relations of good and evil contending within it for +mastery,<a name="FnAnchor_39" href="#Footnote_39"><sup>[39]</sup></a> that everything done without such study must be shallow and +contemptible, that generalization or combination of individual character +will end less in the mending than the losing of it, and, except in +certain instances of which we shall presently take note, is valueless +and vapid, even if it escape being painful from its want of truth, which +in these days it often in some measure does, for we indeed find faces +about us with want enough of life or wholesome character in them to +justify anything. And that habit of the old and great painters of +introducing portrait into all their highest works, I look <span class="pagenum"><a name="page120"></a>[Page 120]</span> to, +not as error in them, but as the very source and root of their +superiority in all things, for they were too great and too humble not to +see in every face about them that which was above them, and which no +fancies of theirs could match nor take place of, wherefore we find the +custom of portraiture constant with them, both portraiture of study and +for purposes of analysis, as with Leonardo; and actual, professed, +serviceable, hardworking portraiture of the men of their time, as with +Raffaelle, and Titian, and Tintoret; and portraiture of Love, as with +Fra Bartolomeo of Savonarola, and Simon Memmi of Petrarch, and Giotto of +Dante, and Gentile Bellini of a beloved imagination of Dandolo, and with +Raffaelle constantly; and portraiture in real downright necessity of +models, even in their noblest works, as was the practice of Ghirlandajo +perpetually, and Masaccio and Raffaelle, and manifestly of the men of +highest and purest ideal purpose, as again, Giotto, and in his +characteristic monkish heads, Angelico, and John Bellini, (note +especially the St. Christopher at the side of that mighty picture of St. +Jerome, at Venice,) and so of all: which practice had indeed a perilous +tendency for men of debased mind, who used models such as and where they +ought not, as Lippi and the corrupted Raffaelle; and is found often at +exceeding disadvantage among men who looked not at their models with +intellectual or loving penetration, but took the outside of them, or +perhaps took the evil and left the good, as Titian in that Academy study +at Venice which is called a St. John, and all workers whatsoever that I +know of, after Raffaelle's time, as Guido and the Caracci, and such +others: but it is nevertheless the necessary and sterling basis of all +ideal art, neither has any great man ever been able to do without it, +nor dreamed of doing without it even to the close of his days.</p> + +<p>And therefore there is not any greater sign of the utter want of +vitality and hopefulness in the schools of the present day than that +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p15">§ 15. Evil results of opposite practice in modern times.</a></span>unhappy +prettiness and sameness under which they mask, or rather for which they +barter, in their lentile thirst, all the birthright and power of nature, +which prettiness, wrought out and spun fine in the study, out of empty +heads, till it hardly betters the blocks on which dresses and hair are +tried in barbers' windows and milliners' books, cannot but be revolting +to any man who has his <span class="pagenum"><a name="page121"></a>[Page 121]</span> eyes, even in a measure, open to the +divinity of the immortal seal on the common features that he meets in +the highways and hedges hourly and momentarily, outreaching all efforts +of conception as all power of realization, were it Raffaelle's three +times over, even when the glory of the wedding garment is not there.</p> + +<p>So far, then, of the use of the model and the preciousness of it in all +art, from the highest to the lowest. But the use of the model is not +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p16">§ 16. The right use of the model.</a></span>all. It must be used in a certain way, +and on this choice of right or wrong way all our ends are at stake, for +the art, which is of no power without the model, is of pernicious and +evil power if the model be wrongly used. What the right use is, has been +at least established, if not fully explained, in the argument by which +we arrived at the general principle.</p> + +<p>The right ideal is to be reached, we have asserted, only by the +banishment of the immediate signs of sin upon the countenance and body. +How, therefore, are the signs of sin to be known and separated?</p> + +<p>No intellectual operation is here of any avail. There is not any +reasoning by which the evidences of depravity are to be traced in <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p17">§ 17. +Ideal form to be reached only by love.</a></span>movements of muscle or forms of +feature; there is not any knowledge, nor experience, nor diligence of +comparison that can be of avail. Here, as throughout the operation of +the theoretic faculty, the perception is altogether moral, an +instinctive love and clinging to the lines of light. Nothing but love +can read the letters, nothing but sympathy catch the sound, there is no +pure passion that can be understood or painted except by pureness of +heart; the foul or blunt feeling will see itself in everything, and set +down blasphemies; it will see Beelzebub in the casting out of devils, it +will find its god of flies in every alabaster box of precious ointment. +The indignation of zeal towards God (nemesis) it will take for anger +against man, faith and veneration it will miss of, as not comprehending, +charity it will turn into lust, compassion into pride, every virtue it +will go over against, like Shimei, casting dust. But the right Christian +mind will in like manner find its own image wherever it exists, it will +seek for what it loves, and draw it out of all dens and caves, and it +will believe in its being, often when it cannot see it, and always turn +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page122"></a>[Page 122]</span> away its eyes from beholding vanity; and so it will lie +lovingly over all the faults and rough places of the human heart, as the +snow from heaven does over the hard, and black, and broken mountain +rocks, following their forms truly, and yet catching light for them to +make them fair, and that must be a steep and unkindly crag indeed which +it cannot cover.</p> + +<p>Now of this spirit there will always be little enough in the world, and +it cannot be given nor taught by men, and so it is of little use to +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p18">§ 18. Practical principles deducible.</a></span>insist on it farther, only I may +note some practical points respecting the ideal treatment of human form, +which may be of use in these thoughtless days. There is not the face, I +have said, which the painter may not make ideal if he choose, but that +subtile feeling which shall find out all of good that there is in any +given countenance is not, except by concern for other things than art, +to be acquired. But certain broad indications of evil there are which +the bluntest feeling may perceive, and which the habit of distinguishing +and casting out would both ennoble the schools of art, and lead in time +to greater acuteness of perception with respect to the less explicable +characters of soul beauty.</p> + +<p>Those signs of evil which are commonly most manifest on the human <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p19">§ 19. +Expressions chiefly destructive of ideal character. 1st. Pride.</a></span>features +are roughly divisible into these four kinds, the signs of pride, of +sensuality, of fear, and of cruelty. Any one of which will destroy the +ideal character of the countenance and body.</p> + +<p>Now of these, the first, pride, is perhaps the most destructive of all +the four, seeing it is the undermost and original story of all sin; and +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p20">§ 20. Portraiture ancient and modern.</a></span>it is base also from the necessary +foolishness of it, because at its best, that is when grounded on a just +estimation of our own elevation or superiority above certain others, it +cannot but imply that our eyes look downward only, and have never been +raised above our own measure, for there is not the man so lofty in his +standing nor capacity but he must be humble in thinking of the cloud +habitation and far sight of the angelic intelligences above him, and in +perceiving what infinity there is of things he cannot know nor even +reach unto, as it stands compared with that little body of things he can +reach, and of which nevertheless he can altogether understand not one; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page123"></a>[Page 123]</span> not to speak of that wicked and fond attributing of such +excellency as he may have to himself, and thinking of it as his own +getting, which is the real essence and criminality of pride, nor of +those viler forms of it, founded on false estimation of things beneath +us and irrational contemning of them: but taken at its best, it is still +base to that degree that there is no grandeur of feature which it cannot +destroy and make despicable, so that the first step towards the +ennobling of any face is the ridding it of its vanity; to which aim +there cannot be anything more contrary than that principle of +portraiture which prevails with us in these days, whose end seems to be +the expression of vanity throughout, in face and in all circumstances of +accompaniment, tending constantly to insolence of attitude, and levity +and haughtiness of expression, and worked out farther in mean +accompaniments of worldly splendor and possession, together with hints +or proclamations of what the person has done or supposes himself to have +done, which, if known, it is gratuitous in the portrait to exhibit, and +if unknown, it is insolent in the portrait to proclaim; whence has +arisen such a school of portraiture as must make the people of the +nineteenth century the shame of their descendants, and the butt of all +time. To which practices are to be opposed both the glorious severity of +Holbein, and the mighty and simple modesty of Raffaelle, Titian, +Giorgione, and Tintoret, with whom armor does not constitute the +warrior, neither silk the dame. And from what feeling the dignity of +that portraiture arose is best traceable at Venice, where we find their +victorious doges painted neither in the toil of battle nor the triumph +of return, nor set forth with thrones and curtains of state, but +kneeling always crownless, and returning thanks to God for his help, or +as priests, interceding for the nation in its affliction. Which feeling +and its results have been so well traced out by Rio,<a name="FnAnchor_40" href="#Footnote_40"><sup>[40]</sup></a> that I need +not speak of it farther.</p> + +<p>That second destroyer of ideal form, the appearance of sensual +character, though not less fatal in its operation on modern art, is more +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p21">§ 21. Secondly, Sensuality.</a></span>difficult to trace, owing to its peculiar +subtlety. For it is not possible to say by what minute <span class="pagenum"><a name="page124"></a>[Page 124]</span> +differences the right conception of the human form is separated from +that which is luscious and foul: for the root of all is in the love and +seeking of the painter, who, if of impure and feeble mind, will cover +all that he touches with clay staining, as Bandinelli puts a foul scent +of human flesh about his marble Christ, and as many whom I will not here +name, among moderns; but if of mighty mind or pure, may pass through all +places of foulness, and none will stay upon him, as Michael Angelo, or +he will baptize all things and wash them with pure water, as our own +Stothard. Now, so far as this power is dependent on the seeking of the +artist, and is only to be seen in the work of good and +spiritually-minded men, it is vain to attempt to teach or illustrate it, +neither is it here the place to take note of the way in which it belongs +to the representation of the mental image of things, instead of things +themselves, of which we are to speak <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p22">§ 22. How connected with impurity +of color.</a></span>in treating of the imagination; but thus much may here be noted +of broad, practical principle, that the purity of flesh painting depends +in very considerable measure on the intensity and warmth of its color. +For if it be opaque, and clay cold, and colorless, and devoid of all the +radiance and value of flesh, the lines of its true beauty, being severe +and firm, will become so hard in the loss of the glow and gradation by +which nature illustrates them, that the painter will be compelled to +sacrifice them for a luscious fulness and roundness, in order to give +the conception of flesh; which, being done, destroys ideality of form as +of color, and gives all over to lasciviousness of surface; showing also +that the painter sought for this, and this only, since otherwise he had +not taken a subject in which he knew himself compelled to surrender all +sources of dignity. Whereas, right splendor of color both bears out a +nobler severity of form, and is in itself purifying and cleansing, like +fire, furnishing also to the painter an excuse for the choice of his +subject, seeing that he may be supposed as not having painted it but in +the admiration of its abstract glory of color and form, and with no +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p23">§ 23. And prevented by its splendor.</a></span>unworthy seeking. But the mere power +of perfect and glowing color will in some sort redeem even a debased +tendency of mind itself, as eminently the case with Titian, who, though +of little feeling, and often treating <span class="pagenum"><a name="page125"></a>[Page 125]</span> base subjects, or +elevated subjects basely, as in the disgusting Magdalen of the Pitti +palace, and that of the Barberigo at Venice, yet redeems all by his +glory of hue, so that he cannot paint altogether coarsely; and with +Giorgione, who had nobler and more serious intellect, the sense of +nudity is utterly lost, and there is no need nor desire of concealment +any more, but his naked figures move among the trees like fiery pillars, +and lie on the grass like flakes of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p24">§ 24. Or by severity of +drawing.</a></span>sunshine.<a name="FnAnchor_41" href="#Footnote_41"><sup>[41]</sup></a> With the religious painters on the other hand, +such nudity as they were compelled to treat is redeemed as much by +severity of form and hardness of line as by color, so that generally +their draped figures are preferable, as in the Francia of our own +gallery. But these, with Michael Angelo and the Venetians, except +Titian, form a great group, pure in sight and aim, between which and all +other schools by which the nude has been treated, there is a gulf fixed, +and all the rest, compared with them, seem striving how best to +illustrate that of Spenser.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Of all God's works, which doe this worlde adorn, <br /> + There is no one more faire, and excellent <br /> + Than is man's body both for power and forme <br /> + Whiles it is kept in sober government. <br /> + But none than it more foul and indecent <br /> + Distempered through misrule and passions bace." +</p> + +<p class="noind">Of these last, however, with whom ideality is lost, there are some +worthier than others, according to that measure of color they reach, and +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p25">§ 25. Degrees of descent in this respect: Rubens, Correggio, and +Guido.</a></span>power they possess, whence much may be forgiven to Rubens, (as to +our own Etty,) less, as I think, to Correggio, who with less apparent +and evident coarseness has more of inherent sensuality, wrought out with +attractive and luscious refinement, and that alike in all subjects, as +in the Madonna of the Incoronazione, over the high altar of San Giovanni +at Parma, of which the head and upper portion of the figure, now +preserved in the library, might serve as a model of attitude and +expression to a ballet figurante:<a name="FnAnchor_42" href="#Footnote_42"><sup>[42]</sup></a> and again in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page126"></a>[Page 126]</span> +lascivious St. Catherine of the Giorno, and in the Charioted Diana, +(both at Parma,) not to name any of his works of aim more definitely +evil. Beneath which again will fall the works devoid alike of art and +decency, as that Susannah of Guido, in our own gallery, and so we may +descend to the absolute clay of the moderns, only noticing in all how +much of what is evil and base in subject or tendency, is redeemed by +what is pure and right in hue, so that I do not assert that the purpose +and object of many of the grander painters of the nude, as Titian for +instance, was always elevated, but only that we, who cannot paint the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p26">§ 26. And modern art.</a></span>lamp of fire within the earthen pitcher, must take +other weapons in our left hands. And it is to be noted, also, that in +climates where the body can be more openly and frequently visited by sun +and weather, the nude both comes to be regarded in a way more grand and +pure, as necessarily awakening no ideas of base kind, (as pre-eminently +with the Greeks,) and also from that exposure receives a firmness and +sunny elasticity very different from the silky softness of the clothed +nations of the north, where every model necessarily looks as if +accidentally undressed; and hence from the very fear and doubt with +which we approach the nude, it becomes expressive of evil, and for that +daring frankness of the old men, which seldom missed of human grandeur, +even when it failed of holy feeling, we have substituted a mean, +carpeted, gauze-veiled, mincing sensuality of curls and crisping pins, +out of which I believe nothing can come but moral enervation and mental +paralysis.</p> + +<p>Respecting those two other vices of the human face, the expressions of +fear and ferocity, there is less to be noted, as they only occasionally +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p27">§ 27. Thirdly, ferocity and fear. The latter how to be distinguished +from awe.</a></span>enter into the conception of character; only it is most +necessary to make careful distinction between the conception of power, +destructiveness, or majesty, in matter, influence, or agent, and the +actual fear of any of these, for it is possible to conceive of +terribleness, without being in a position obnoxious to the danger of it, +and so without fear, and the feeling arising from this contemplation of +dreadfulness, ourselves being in safety, as of a stormy sea from the +shore, is properly termed awe, and is a most noble passion; whereas fear +mortal <span class="pagenum"><a name="page127"></a>[Page 127]</span> and extreme, may be felt respecting things ignoble, as +the falling from a window, and without any conception of terribleness or +majesty in the thing, or the accident dreaded; and even when fear is +felt respecting things sublime, as thunder, or storm of battle, yet the +tendency of it is to destroy all power of contemplation of their +majesty, and to freeze and shrink all the intellect into a shaking heap +of clay, for absolute acute fear is of the same unworthiness and +contempt from whatever source it arise, and degrades the mind and the +outward bearing of the body alike, even though it be among hail of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p28">§ 28. +Holy fear, how distinct from human terror.</a></span>heaven and fire running along +the ground. And so among the children of God, while there is always that +fearful and bowed apprehension of his majesty, and that sacred dread of +all offence to him, which is called the fear of God, yet of real and +essential fear there is not any but clinging of confidence to him, as +their Rock, Fortress, and Deliverer, and perfect love, and casting out +of fear, so that it is not possible that while the mind is rightly bent +on him, there should be dread of anything either earthly or +supernatural, and the more dreadful seems the height of his majesty, the +less fear they feel that dwell in the shadow of it, ("Of whom shall I be +afraid?") so that they are as David was, devoted to his fear; whereas, +on the other hand, those who, if they may help it, never conceive of +God, but thrust away all thought and memory of him, and in his real +terribleness and omnipresence fear him not nor know him, yet are of +real, acute, piercing, and ignoble fear, haunted for evermore; fear +inconceiving and desperate that calls to the rocks, and hides in the +dust; and hence the peculiar baseness of the expression of terror, a +baseness attributed to it in all times, and among all <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p29">§ 29. Ferocity is +joined always with fear. Its unpardonableness.</a></span>nations, as of a passion +atheistical, brutal, and profane. So also, it is always joined with +ferocity, which is of all passions the least human; for of sensual +desires there is license to men, as necessity; and of vanity there is +intellectual cause, so that when seen in a brute it is pleasant and a +sign of good wit; and of fear there is at times necessity and excuse, as +being allowed for prevention of harm; but of ferocity there is no excuse +nor palliation, but it is pure essence of tiger and demon, and it casts +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page128"></a>[Page 128]</span> on the human face the paleness alike of the horse of Death, +and the ashes of hell.</p> + +<p>Wherefore, of all subjects that can be admitted to sight, the +expressions of fear and ferocity are the most foul and detestable, and +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p30">§ 30. Such expressions how sought by painters powerless and impious.</a></span>so +there is in them I know not what sympathetic attractiveness for minds +cowardly and base, as the vulgar of most nations, and forasmuch as they +are easily rendered by men who can render nothing else, they are often +trusted in by the herd of painters incapable and profane, as in that +monstrous abortion of the first room of the Louvre, called the Deluge, +whose subject is pure, acute, mortal fear; and so generally the +senseless horrors of the modern French schools, spawn of the guillotine: +also there is not a greater test of grandeur or meanness of mind than +the expressions it will seek for and develop in the features and forms +of men in fierce strife, whether determination and devotion, and all the +other attributes of that unselfishness which constitutes heroism, as in +the warrior of Agasias; and distress not agitated nor unworthy, though +mortal, as in the Dying Gladiator, or brutal ferocity and butchered +agony, of which the lowest and least palliated examples are those +battles of Salvator Rosa, which none but a man, base-born and +thief-bred, could have dwelt upon for an instant without sickening, of +which I will only name that example in the Pitti palace, wherein the +chief figure in the foreground is a man with his arm cut off at the +shoulder, run through the other hand into the breast with a lance.<a name="FnAnchor_43" href="#Footnote_43"><sup>[43]</sup></a> +And manifold instances of the same feeling are to be found in the +repainting of the various representations of the Inferno, so common +through Italy, more especially that of Orcagna's in the Campo Santo, +wherein the few figures near the top that yet remain untouched are grand +in their severe drawing and expressions of enduring despair, while those +below, repainted by Solazzino, depend for their expressiveness upon +torrents of blood; so in the Inferno of Santa Maria Novella, and of the +Arena <span class="pagenum"><a name="page129"></a>[Page 129]</span> chapel, not to speak of the horrible images of the +Passion, by which vulgar Romanism has always striven to excite the +languid sympathies of its untaught flocks. Of which foulness let us +reason no farther, the very image and memory of them being pollution, +only noticing this, that there has always been a morbid tendency in +Romanism towards the contemplation of bodily pain, owing to the +attribution of saving power to it, which, like every other moral error, +has been of fatal effect in art, leaving not altogether without the +stain and blame of it, even the highest of the pure Romanist painters; +as Fra Angelico, for instance, who, in his Passion subjects, always +insists weakly on the bodily torture, and is unsparing of blood; and +Giotto, though his treatment is usually grander, as in that Crucifixion +over the door of the Convent of St. <span class="correction" title="originally Marks'">Mark's</span>, where the blood is hardly +actual, but issues from the feet in a typical and conventional form, and +becomes a crimson cord which is twined strangely beneath about a skull; +only that which these holy men did to enhance, even though in their +means mistaken, the impression and power of the sufferings of Christ, or +of his saints, is always in a measure noble, and to be distinguished +with all reverence from the abominations of the irreligious painters +following, as of Camillo Procaccini, in one of his martyrdoms in the +Gallery of the Brera, at Milan, and other such, whose names may be well +spared to the reader.</p> + +<p>These, then, are the four passions whose presence in any degree on the +human face is degradation. But of all passion it is to be generally +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p31">§ 31. Of passion generally.</a></span>observed, that it becomes ignoble either when +entertained respecting unworthy objects, and therefore shallow or +unjustifiable, or when of impious violence, and so destructive of human +dignity. Thus grief is noble or the reverse, according to the dignity +and worthiness of the object lamented, and the grandeur of the mind +enduring it. The sorrow of mortified vanity or avarice is simply +disgusting, even that of bereaved affection may be base if selfish and +unrestrained. All grief that convulses the features is ignoble, because +it is commonly shallow and certainly temporary, as in children, though +in the shock and shiver of a strong man's features under sudden and +violent grief there may be something of sublime. The grief of Guercino's +Hagar, in the Brera gallery <span class="pagenum"><a name="page130"></a>[Page 130]</span> at Milan, is partly despicable, +partly disgusting, partly ridiculous; it is not the grief of the injured +Egyptian, driven forth into the desert with the destiny of a nation in +her heart, but of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p32">§ 32. It is never to be for itself exhibited—at least +on the face.</a></span>a servant of all work, turned away for stealing tea and +sugar. Common painters forget that passion is not absolutely and in +itself great or violent, but only in proportion to the weakness of the +mind it has to deal with; and that in exaggerating its outward signs, +they are not exalting the passion, but evaporating the hero.<a name="FnAnchor_44" href="#Footnote_44"><sup>[44]</sup></a> They +think too much of passions as always the same in their nature, +forgetting that the love of Achilles is different from the love of +Paris, and of Alcestis from that of Laodamia. The use and value of +passion is not as a subject in contemplation in itself, but as it breaks +up the fountains of the great deep of the human mind, or displays its +mightiness and ribbed majesty, as mountains are seen in their stability +best among the coil of clouds; whence, in fine, I think it is to be held +that all passion which attains overwhelming power, so that it is not as +resisting, but as conquered, that the creature is contemplated, is unfit +for high art, and destructive of the ideal character of the countenance: +and in this respect, I cannot but hold Raffaelle to have erred in his +endeavor to express passion of such acuteness in the human face; as in +the fragment of the Massacre of the Innocents in our own gallery, +(wherein, repainted though it be, I suppose the purpose of the master is +yet to be understood,) for if such subjects are to be represented at +all, their entire expression may be given without degrading the face, as +we shall presently see done with unspeakable power by Tintoret,<a name="FnAnchor_45" href="#Footnote_45"><sup>[45]</sup></a> and +I think that all subjects of the kind, all human misery, slaughter, +famine, plague, peril, and crime, are better in the main avoided, as of +unprofitable and hardening influence, unless so far as out of the +suffering, hinted rather than expressed, we may raise into nobler relief +the eternal enduring of fortitude and affection, of mercy and +self-devotion, or when, as by the threshing-floor of Ornan, and by the +cave of Lazarus, the angel of the Lord is to be <span class="pagenum"><a name="page131"></a>[Page 131]</span> seen in the +chastisement, and his love to be manifested to the despair of men.</p> + +<p>Thus, then, we have in some sort enumerated those evil signs which are +most necessary to be shunned in the seeking of ideal beauty,<a name="FnAnchor_46" href="#Footnote_46"><sup>[46]</sup></a> though +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c14p33">§ 33. Recapitulation</a></span>it is not the knowledge of them, but the dread and +hatred of them, which will effectually aid the painter; as on the other +hand it is not by mere admission of the loveliness of good and holy +expression that its subtile characters are to be traced. Raffaelle +himself, questioned on this subject, made doubtful answer; he probably +could not trace through what early teaching, or by what dies of emotion +the image had been sealed upon his heart. Our own Bacon, who well saw +the impossibility of reaching it by the combination of many separate +beauties, yet explains not the nature of that "kind of felicity" to +which he attributes success. I suppose those who have conceived and +wrought the loveliest things, have done so by no theorizing, but in +simple labor of love, and could not, if put to a bar of rationalism, +defend all points of what they had done, but painted it in their own +delight, and to the delight of all besides, only always with that +respect of conscience and "fear of swerving from that which is right, +which maketh diligent observers of circumstances the loose regard +whereof is the nurse of vulgar folly, no less than Solomon's attention +thereunto was of natural furtherances the most effectual to make him +eminent above others, for he gave good heed, and pierced everything to +the very ground."<a name="FnAnchor_47" href="#Footnote_47"><sup>[47]</sup></a></p> + +<p>With which good heed, and watching of the instants when men feel warmly +and rightly, as the Indians do for the diamond in their washing of sand, +and that with the desire and hope of finding true good in men, and not +with the ready vanity that sets itself to fiction instantly, and carries +its potter's wheel about with it always, (off which there will come only +clay vessels <span class="pagenum"><a name="page132"></a>[Page 132]</span> of regular shape after all,) instead of the pure +mirror that can show the seraph standing by the human body—standing as +signal to the heavenly land:<a name="FnAnchor_48" href="#Footnote_48"><sup>[48]</sup></a> with this heed and this charity, there +are none of us that may not bring down that lamp upon his path of which +Spenser sang:—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "That beauty is not, as fond men misdeem <br /> + An outward show of things, that only seem; <br /> + But that fair lamp, from whose celestial ray <br /> + That light proceeds, which kindleth lover's fire, <br /> + Shall never be extinguished nor decay. <br /> + But when the vital spirits do expire, <br /> + Unto her native planet shall retire, <br /> + For it is heavenly born and cannot die, <br /> + Being a parcel of the purest sky." +</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_38" href="#FnAnchor_38">[38]</a> Rev. vii. 2.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_39" href="#FnAnchor_39">[39]</a> Compare Part II. Sec. I. Chap. III § 6.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_40" href="#FnAnchor_40">[40]</a> De la <span class="correction" title="originally text not accented">Poėsie Chrétienne</span>. Forme de l'Art. Chap. VIII.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_41" href="#FnAnchor_41">[41]</a> As in the noble Louvre picture.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_42" href="#FnAnchor_42">[42]</a> The Madonna turns her back to Christ, and bends her head over her +shoulder to receive the crown, the arms being folded with studied grace +over the bosom.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_43" href="#FnAnchor_43">[43]</a> Compare Michelet, (Du Prźtre, de la Femme, de la Famille,) Chap. +III. note. He uses language too violent to be quoted; but excuses +Salvator by reference to the savage character of the Thirty Years' War. +That this excuse has no validity may be proved by comparing the +painter's treatment of other subjects. See Sec. II. Chap. III. § 19, +note.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_44" href="#FnAnchor_44">[44]</a></p> + +<p class="poemq"> + "The fire, that mounts the liquor, till it run o'er <br /> + In seeming to augment it, wastes it." +</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 30%; "><span class="sc">Henry VIII</span>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_45" href="#FnAnchor_45">[45]</a> <a href="#s2c3p22">Sect. II. Chap. III. § 22</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_46" href="#FnAnchor_46">[46]</a> Let it be observed that it is always of beauty, not of human +character in its lower and criminal modifications, that we have been +speaking. That variety of character, therefore, which we have affirmed +to be necessary, is the variety of Giotto and Angelico, not of Hogarth. +Works concerned with the exhibition of general character, are to be +spoken of in the consideration of Ideas of Relation.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_47" href="#FnAnchor_47">[47]</a> Hooker, Book V. Chap. I. § 2.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_48" href="#FnAnchor_48">[48]</a></p> + +<p class="poemq"> + "Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, <br /> + And by the holy rood, <br /> + A man all light, a seraph man <br /> + By every corse there stood. <br /> + This seraph band, each waved his hand, <br /> + It was a heavenly sight; <br /> + They stood as signals to the land, <br /> + Each one a lovely light." +</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 30%; "><span class="sc">Ancient Mariner</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page133"></a>[Page 133]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3> + +<h5>GENERAL CONCLUSIONS RESPECTING THE THEORETIC FACULTY.</h5> + +<p>Of the sources of beauty open to us in the visible world, we have now +obtained a view which, though most feeble in its grasp and scanty in its +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p1">§ 1. There are no sources of the emotion of beauty more than those found +in things visible.</a></span>detail, is yet general in its range. Of no other +sources than these visible can we, by any effort in our present +condition of existence, conceive. For what revelations have been made to +humanity inspired, or caught up to heaven of things to the heavenly +region belonging, have been either by unspeakable words which it is not +lawful for a man to utter, or else by their very nature incommunicable, +except in types and shadows; and ineffable by words belonging to earth, +for of things different from the visible, words appropriated to the +visible can convey no image. How different from earthly gold that clear +pavement of the city might have seemed to the eyes of St. John, we of +unreceived sight cannot know; neither of that strange jasper and sardine +can we conceive the likeness which he assumed that sat on the throne +above the crystal sea; neither what seeming that was of slaying that the +Root of David bore in the midst of the elders; neither what change it +was upon the form of the fourth of them that walked in the furnace of +Dura, that even the wrath of idolatry knew for the likeness of the Son +of God. The knowing that is here permitted to us is either of things +outward only, as in those it is whose eyes faith never opened, or else +of that dark part that her glass shows feebly, of things supernatural, +that gleaming of the Divine form among the mortal crowd, which all may +catch if they will climb the sycamore and wait; nor how much of God's +abiding at the house may be granted to those that so seek, and how much +more may be opened to them in the breaking of bread, cannot be said; but +of that only we can reason which is in a measure revealed to all, of +that which is by constancy and purity <span class="pagenum"><a name="page134"></a>[Page 134]</span> of affection to be +found in the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p2">§ 2. What imperfection exists in visible things. How in a +sort by imagination removable.</a></span>things and the beings around us upon +earth. Now among all those things whose beauty we have hitherto +examined, there has been a measure of imperfection. Either inferiority +of kind, as the beauty of the lower animals, or resulting from +degradation, as in man himself; and although in considering the beauty +of human form, we arrived at some conception of restoration, yet we +found that even the restoration must be in some respect imperfect, as +incapable of embracing all qualities, moral and intellectual, at once, +neither to be freed from all signs of former evil done or suffered. +Consummate beauty, therefore, is not to be found on earth, though often +such intense measure of it as shall drown all capacity of receiving; +neither is it to be respecting humanity legitimately conceived. But by +certain operations of the imagination upon ideas of beauty received from +things around us, it is possible to conceive respecting superhuman +creatures (of that which is more than <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p3">§ 3. Which however affects not our +present conclusions.</a></span>creature, no creature ever conceived) a beauty in +some sort greater than we see. Of this beauty, however, it is impossible +to determine anything until we have traced the imaginative operations to +which it owes its being, of which operations this much may be +prematurely said, that they are not creative, that no new ideas are +elicited by them, and that their whole function is only a certain +dealing with, concentrating or mode of regarding the impressions +received from external things, that therefore, in the beauty to which +they will conduct us, there will be found no new element, but only a +peculiar combination or phase of those elements that we now know, and +that therefore we may at present draw all the conclusions with respect +to the rank of the theoretic faculty, which the knowledge of its subject +matter can warrant.</p> + +<p>We have seen that this subject matter is referable to four general +heads. It is either the record of conscience, printed in things <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p4">§ 4. The +four sources from which the pleasure of beauty is derived are all +divine.</a></span>external, or it is a symbolizing of Divine attributes in matter, +or it is the felicity of living things, or the perfect fulfilment of +their duties and functions. In all cases it is something Divine, either +the approving voice of God, the glorious symbol of him, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page135"></a>[Page 135]</span> the +evidence of his kind presence, or the obedience to his will by him +induced and supported.</p> + +<p>All these subjects of contemplation are such as we may suppose will +remain sources of pleasure to the perfected spirit throughout eternity. +Divine in their nature, they are addressed to the immortal part of men.</p> + +<p>There remain, however, two points to be noticed before I can hope that +this conclusion will be frankly accepted by the reader. If it be the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p5">§ 5. What objections may be made to this conclusion.</a></span>moral part of us to +which beauty addresses itself, how does it happen, it will be asked, +that it is ever found in the works of impious men, and how is it +possible for such to desire or conceive it?</p> + +<p>On the other hand, how does it happen that men in high state of moral +culture are often insensible to the influence of material beauty, and +insist feebly upon it as an instrument of soul culture.</p> + +<p>These two objections I shall endeavor briefly to answer, not that they +can be satisfactorily treated without that detailed examination of the +whole body of great works of art, on which I purpose to enter in the +following volume. For the right determination of these two questions is +indeed the whole end and aim of my labor, (and if it could be here +accomplished, I should bestow no effort farther,) namely, the proving +that no supreme power of art can be attained by impious men; and that +the neglect of art, as an interpreter of divine things, has been of evil +consequence to the Christian world.</p> + +<p>At present, however, I would only meet such objections as must +immediately arise in the reader's mind.</p> + +<p>And first, it will be remembered that I have, throughout the examination +of typical beauty, asserted its instinctive power, the moral meaning of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p6">§ 6. Typical beauty may be ęsthetically pursued. Instances.</a></span>it being only +discoverable by faithful thought. Now this instinctive sense of it +varies in intensity among men, being given, like the hearing ear of +music, to some more than to others: and if those to whom it is given in +large measure be unfortunately men of impious or unreflecting spirit, it +is very possible that the perceptions of beauty should be by them +cultivated on principles merely ęsthetic, and so lose their hallowing +power; for though the good seed in them is altogether divine, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page136"></a>[Page 136]</span> +yet, there being no blessing in the springing thereof, it brings forth +wild grapes in the end. And yet these wild grapes are well discernible, +like the deadly gourds of Gilgal. There is in all works of such men a +taint and stain, and jarring discord, blacker and louder exactly in +proportion to the moral deficiency, of which the best proof and measure +is to be found in their treatment of the human form, (since in landscape +it is nearly impossible to introduce definite expression of evil,) of +which the highest beauty has been attained only once, and then by no +system taught painter, but by a most holy Dominican monk of Fiesole; and +beneath him all stoop lower and lower in proportion to their inferior +sanctity, though with more or less attainment of that which is noble, +according to their intellectual power and earnestness, as Raffaelle in +his St. Cecilia, (a mere study of a passionate, dark-eyed, large formed +Italian model,) and even Perugino, in that there is about his noblest +faces a shortcoming, indefinable; an absence of the full outpouring of +the sacred spirit that there is in Angelico; traceable, I doubt not, to +some deficiencies and avaricious flaws of his heart, whose consequences +in his conduct were such as to give Vasari hope that his lies might +stick to him (for the contradiction of which in the main, if there be +not contradiction enough in every line that the hand of Perugino drew, +compare Rio, de la Poėsie Chrétienne, and note also what Rio has +singularly missed observing, that Perugino, in his portrait of himself +in the Florence gallery, has put a scroll into the hand, with the words +"Timete Deum," thus surely indicating that which he considered his duty +and message:) and so all other even of the sacred painters, not to speak +of the lower body of men in whom, on the one hand, there is marked +sensuality and impurity in all that they seek of beauty, as in Correggio +and Guido, or, on the other, a want in measure <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p7">§ 7. How interrupted by +false feeling.</a></span>of the sense of beauty itself, as in Rubens and Titian, +showing itself in the adoption of coarse types of feature and form; +sometimes also (of which I could find instances in modern times,) in a +want of evidence of delight in what they do; so that, after they have +rendered some passage of exceeding beauty, they will suffer some +discordant point to interfere with it, and it will not hurt them, as if +they had no pleasure in that which was best, but had done it in +inspiration <span class="pagenum"><a name="page137"></a>[Page 137]</span> that was not profitable to them, as deaf men +might touch an instrument with a feeling in their heart, which yet +returns not outwardly upon them, and so know not when they play false: +and sometimes by total want of choice, for there is a choice of love in +all rightly tempered men, not that ignorant and insolent choice which +rejects half nature as empty of the right, but that pure choice that +fetches the right out of everything; and where this is wanting, we may +see men walking up and down in dry places, finding no rest, ever and +anon doing something noble, and yet not following it up, but dwelling +the next instant on something impure or profitless with the same +intensity and yet impatience, so that they are ever wondered at and +never sympathized with, and while they dazzle all, they lead none; and +then, beneath these again, we find others on whose works there are +definite signs of evil mind, ill-repressed, and then inability to avoid, +and at last perpetual seeking for and feeding upon horror and ugliness, +and filthiness of sin, as eminently in Salvator and Caravaggio, and the +lower Dutch schools, only in these last less painfully as they lose the +villanous in the brutal, and the horror of crime in its idiocy.</p> + +<p>But secondly, it is to be noted that it is neither by us uncertainable +what moments of pure feeling or aspiration may occur to men of minds +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p8">§ 8. Greatness and truth are sometimes by the Deity sustained and spoken +in and through evil men.</a></span>apparently cold and lost, nor by us to be +pronounced through what instruments, and in what strangely occurrent +voices, God may choose to communicate good to men. It seems to me that +much of what is great, and to all men beneficial, has been wrought by +those who neither intended nor knew the good they did, and that many +mighty harmonies have been discoursed by instruments that had been dumb +or discordant, but that God knew their stops. The Spirit of Prophecy +consisted with the avarice of Balaam, and the disobedience of Saul. +Could we spare from its page that parable, which he said, who saw the +vision of the Almighty, falling into a trance, but having his eyes open, +though we know that the sword of his punishment was then sharp in its +sheath beneath him in the plains of Moab? or shall we not lament with +David over the shield cast away on the Gilboa mountains, of him to whom +God gave <i>another heart</i> that day when he turned his back to go from +Samuel? <span class="pagenum"><a name="page138"></a>[Page 138]</span> It is not our part to look hardly, nor to look +always, to the character or the deeds of men, but to accept from all of +them, and to hold fast that which we can prove good, and feel to be +ordained for us. We know that whatever good there is in them is itself +divine, and wherever we see the virtue of ardent labor and +self-surrendering to a single purpose, wherever we find constant +reference made to the written scripture of natural beauty, this at least +we know is great and good, this we know is not granted by the counsel of +God, without purpose, nor maintained without result: Their +interpretation we may accept, into their labor we may enter, but they +themselves must look to it, if what they do has no intent of good, nor +any reference to the Giver of all gifts. Selfish in their industry, +unchastened in their wills, ungrateful for the Spirit that is upon them, +they may yet be helmed by that Spirit whithersoever the Governor +listeth; involuntary instruments they may become of others' good; +unwillingly they may bless Israel, doubtingly discomfit Amalek, but +shortcoming there will be of their glory, and sure, of their punishment.</p> + +<p>I believe I shall be able, incidentally, in succeeding investigations, +to prove this shortcoming, and to examine the sources of it, not <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p9">§ 9. +The second objection arising from the coldness of Christian men to +external beauty.</a></span>absolutely indeed, (seeing that all reasoning on the +characters of men must be treacherous, our knowledge on this head being +as corrupt as it is scanty, while even in living with them it is +impossible to trace the working, or estimate the errors of great and +self-secreted minds,) but at least enough to establish the general +principle upon such grounds of fact as may satisfy those who demand the +practical proof (often in a measure impossible) of things which can +hardly be doubted in their rational consequence. At present, it would be +useless to enter on an examination for which we have no materials; and I +proceed, therefore, to notice that other and opposite error of Christian +men in thinking that there is little use or value in the operation of +the theoretic faculty, not that I at present either feel myself capable, +or that this is the place for the discussion of that vast question of +the operation of taste (as it is called) on the minds of men, and the +national value of its teaching, but I wish shortly to reply to that +objection which might be urged to the real <span class="pagenum"><a name="page139"></a>[Page 139]</span> moral dignity of +the faculty, that many Christian men seem to be in themselves without +it, and even to discountenance it in others.</p> + +<p>It has been said by Schiller, in his letters on ęsthetic culture, that +the sense of beauty never farthered the performance of a single duty.</p> + +<p>Although this gross and inconceivable falsity will hardly be accepted by +any one in so many terms, seeing that there are few so utterly lost but +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p10">§ 10. Reasons for this coldness in the anxieties of the world. These +anxieties overwrought and criminal.</a></span>that they receive, and know that they +receive, at certain moments, strength of some kind, or rebuke from the +appealings of outward things; and that it is not possible for a +Christian man to walk across so much as a rood of the natural earth, +with mind unagitated and rightly poised, without receiving strength and +hope from some stone, flower, leaf, or sound, nor without a sense of a +dew falling upon him out of the sky; though, I say, this falsity is not +wholly and in terms admitted, yet it seems to be partly and practically +so in much of the doing and teaching even of holy men, who in the +recommending of the love of God to us, refer but seldom to those things +in which it is most abundantly and immediately shown; though they insist +much on his giving of bread, and raiment, and health, (which he gives to +all inferior creatures,) they require us not to thank him for that glory +of his works which he has permitted us alone to perceive: they tell us +often to meditate in the closet, but they send us not, like Isaac, into +the fields at even, they dwell on the duty of self-denial, but they +exhibit not the duty of delight. Now there are reasons for this, +manifold, in the toil and warfare of an earnest mind, which, in its +efforts at the raising of men from utter loss and misery, has often but +little time or disposition to take heed of anything more than the bare +life, and of those so occupied it is not for us to judge, but I think, +that, of the weaknesses, distresses, vanities, schisms, and sins, which +often even in the holiest men, diminish their usefulness, and mar their +happiness, there would be fewer if, in their struggle with nature +fallen, they sought for more aid from nature undestroyed. It seems to me +that the real sources of bluntness in the feelings towards the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page140"></a>[Page +140]</span> splendor of the grass and glory of the flower, are less to be found +in ardor of occupation, in seriousness of compassion, or heavenliness of +desire, than in the turning of the eye at intervals of rest too +selfishly within; the want of power to shake off the anxieties of actual +and near interest, and to leave results in God's hands; the scorn of all +that does not seem immediately apt for our purposes, or open to our +understanding, and perhaps something of pride, which desires rather to +investigate than to <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p11">§ 11. Evil consequences of such coldness.</a></span>feel. I +believe that the root of almost every schism and heresy from which the +Christian church has ever suffered, has been the effort of men to earn, +rather than to receive, their salvation; and that the reason that +preaching is so commonly ineffectual is, that it calls on men oftener to +work for God, than to behold God working for them. If, for every rebuke +that we utter of men's vices, we put forth a claim upon their hearts; if +for every assertion of God's demands from them, we could substitute a +display of his kindness to them; if side by side with every warning of +death, we could exhibit proofs and promises of immortality; if, in fine, +instead of assuming the being of an awful Deity, which men, though they +cannot and dare not deny, are always unwilling, sometimes unable, to +conceive, we were to show them a near, visible, inevitable, but all +beneficent Deity, whose presence makes the earth itself a heaven, I +think there would be fewer deaf children <span class="sidenote"><a name="s1c15p12">§ 12. Theoria the service of +Heaven.</a></span>sitting in the market-place. At all events, whatever may be the +inability in this present life to mingle the full enjoyment of the +Divine works with the full discharge of every practical duty, and +confessedly in many cases this must be, let us not attribute the +inconsistency to any indignity of the faculty of contemplation, but to +the sin and the suffering of the fallen state, and the change of order +from the keeping of the garden to the tilling of the ground. We cannot +say how far it is right or agreeable with God's will, while men are +perishing round about us, while grief, and pain, and wrath, and impiety, +and death, and all the powers of the air, are working wildly and +evermore, and the cry of blood going up to heaven, that any of us should +take hand from the plough; but this we know, that there will come a time +when the service of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page141"></a>[Page 141]</span> God shall be the beholding of him; and +though in these stormy seas, where we are now driven up and down, his +Spirit is dimly seen on the face of the waters, and we are left to cast +anchors out of the stern, and wish for the day, that day will come, +when, with the evangelists on the crystal and stable sea, all the +creatures of God shall be full of eyes within, and there shall be "no +more curse, but his servants shall serve him, and shall see his face."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page142"></a>[Page 142]</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>SECTION II.</h3> + +<h5>OF THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY.</h5> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<h5>OF THE THREE FORMS OF IMAGINATION.</h5> + +<p>We have hitherto been exclusively occupied with those sources of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c1p1">§ 1. A +partial examination only of the imagination is to be attempted.</a></span>pleasure +which exist in the external creation, and which in any faithful copy of +it must to a certain extent exist also.</p> + +<p>These sources of beauty, however, are not presented by any very great +work of art in a form of pure transcript. They invariably receive the +reflection of the mind under whose shadow they have passed, and are +modified or colored by its image.</p> + +<p>This modification is the Work of Imagination.</p> + +<p>As, in the course of our succeeding investigation, we shall be called +upon constantly to compare sources of beauty existing in nature with the +images of them presented by the human mind, it is very necessary for us +shortly to review the conditions and limits of the imaginative faculty, +and to ascertain by what tests we may distinguish its sane, healthy, and +profitable operation, from that which is erratic, diseased, and +dangerous.</p> + +<p>It is neither desirable nor possible here to examine or illustrate in +full the essence of this mighty faculty. Such an examination would +require a review of the whole field of literature, and would alone +demand a volume. Our present task is not to explain or exhibit full +portraiture of this function of the mind in all its relations, but only +to obtain some certain tests by which we may determine whether it be +very imagination or no, and unmask all impersonations of it, and this +chiefly with respect to art, for in literature the faculty takes a +thousand forms, according to the matter it has to treat, and becomes +like the princess of the Arabian tale, sword, eagle, or fire, according +to the war it <span class="pagenum"><a name="page143"></a>[Page 143]</span> wages, sometimes piercing, sometimes soaring, +sometimes illumining, retaining no image of itself, except its +supernatural power, so that I shall content myself with tracing that +particular form of it, and unveiling those imitations of it only, which +are to be found, or feared, in painting, referring to other creations of +mind only for illustration.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, the works of metaphysicians will afford us in this most +interesting inquiry no aid whatsoever. They who are constantly <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c1p2">§ 2. The +works of the metaphysicians how nugatory with respect to this +faculty.</a></span>endeavoring to fathom and explain the essence of the faculties +of mind, are sure in the end to lose sight of all that cannot be +explained, (though it may be defined and felt,) and because, as I shall +presently show, the essence of the imaginative faculty is utterly +mysterious and inexplicable, and to be recognized in its results only, +or in the negative results of its absence, the metaphysicians, as far as +I am acquainted with their works, miss it altogether, and never reach +higher than a definition of fancy by a false name.</p> + +<p>What I understand by fancy will presently appear, not that I contend for +nomenclature, but only for distinction between two mental faculties, by +whatever name they be called, one the source of all that is great in the +poetic arts; the other merely decorative and entertaining, but which are +often confounded together, and which have so much in common as to render +strict definition of either difficult.</p> + +<p>Dugald Stewart's meagre definition may serve us for a starting point. +"Imagination," he says, "includes conception or simple apprehension, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c1p3">§ 3. The definition of D. Stewart, how inadequate.</a></span>which enables us to +form a notion of those former objects of perception or of knowledge, out +of which we are to make a selection; abstraction, which separates the +selected materials from the qualities and circumstances which are +connected with them in nature; and judgment or taste, which selects the +materials and directs their combination. To these powers we may add that +particular habit of association to which I formerly gave the name of +fancy, as it is this which presents to our choice all the different +materials which are subservient to the efforts of imagination, and which +may therefore be considered as forming the ground-work of poetical +genius."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page144"></a>[Page 144]</span></p> + +<p>(By fancy in this passage, we find on referring to the chapter treating +of it, that nothing more is meant than the rapid occurrence of ideas of +sense to the mind.)</p> + +<p>Now, in this definition, the very point and purpose of all the inquiry +is missed. We are told that judgment or taste "directs the combination." +In order that anything may be directed, an end must be previously +determined: What is the faculty that determines this end? and of what +frame and make, how boned and fleshed, how conceived or seen, is the end +itself? Bare judgment, or taste, cannot approve of what has no +existence; and yet by Dugald Stewart's definition we are left to their +catering among a host of conceptions, to produce a combination which, as +they work for, they must see and approve before it exists. This power of +prophecy is the very essence of the whole matter, and it is just that +inexplicable part which the metaphysician misses.</p> + +<p>As might be expected from his misunderstanding of the faculty, he has +given an instance entirely nugatory.<a name="FnAnchor_49" href="#Footnote_49"><sup>[49]</sup></a> It would be difficult to find +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c1p4">§ 4. This instance nugatory.</a></span>in Milton a passage in which less power of +imagination was shown, than the description of Eden, if, as I suppose, +this be the passage meant, at the beginning of the fourth book, in which +I can find three expressions only in which this power is shown, the +"<i>burnished</i> with golden rind, hung amiable" of the Hesperian fruit, the +"<i>lays forth</i> her purple grape" of the vine and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page145"></a>[Page 145]</span> the +"<i>fringed</i> bank with myrtle crowned," of the lake, and these are not +what Stewart meant, but only that accumulation of bowers, groves, lawns, +and hillocks, which is not <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c1p5">§ 5. Various instances.</a></span>imagination at all, +but composition, and that of the commonest kind. Hence, if we take any +passage in which there is real imagination, we shall find Stewart's +hypothesis not only inefficient and obscure, but utterly inapplicable.</p> + +<p>Take one or two at random.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "On the other side, <br /> + Incensed with indignation, Satan stood <br /> + Unterrified, and like a comet burned <br /> + That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge <br /> + In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair <br /> + Shakes pestilence and war." +</p> + +<p>(Note that the word incensed is to be taken in its literal and material +sense, set on fire.) What taste or judgment was it that directed this +combination? or is there nothing more than taste or judgment here?</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Ten paces huge <br /> + He back recoiled; the tenth on bended knee <br /> + His massy spear upstaid, as if on earth <br /> + Winds under ground, or waters forcing way <br /> + <i>Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat <br /> + Half-sunk with all his pines.</i> +</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Together both ere the high lawns appeared <br /> + <i>Under the opening eyelids</i> of the morn, <br /> + We drove a field, and both together heard <br /> + What time the gray-fly winds her <i>sultry</i> horn. +</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Missing thee, I walk unseen <br /> + On the dry smooth shaven green. <br /> + To behold the wandering moon <br /> + Riding near her highest noon, <br /> + <i>Like one that had been led astray</i>, <br /> + Through the heavens' wide pathless way, <br /> + And oft <i>as if her head she bowed</i> <br /> + Stooping through a fleecy cloud." +</p> + +<p>It is evident that Stewart's explanation utterly fails in all these +instances, for there is in them no "combination" whatsoever, but a +particular mode of regarding the qualities or appearances <span class="pagenum"><a name="page146"></a>[Page 146]</span> of +a single thing, illustrated and conveyed to us by the image of another; +and the act of imagination, observe, is not the selection of this image, +but the mode of regarding the object.</p> + +<p>But the metaphysician's definition fails yet more utterly, when we look +at the imagination neither as regarding, nor combining, but as +penetrating.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "My gracious Silence, Hail: <br /> + Wouldst thou have laughed, had I come coffin'd home <br /> + That weep'st to see me triumph. Ah! my dear, <br /> + Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, <br /> + And mothers that lack sons." +</p> + +<p>How did Shakspeare <i>know</i> that Virgilia could not speak?</p> + +<p>This knowledge, this intuitive and penetrative perception, is still one +of the forms, the highest, of imagination, but there is no combination +of images here.</p> + +<p>We find, then, that the imagination has three totally distinct +functions. It combines, and by combination creates new forms; but the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c1p6">§ 6. The three operations of the imagination. Penetrative, associative, +contemplative.</a></span>secret principle of this combination has not been shown by +the analysts. Again, it treats or regards both the simple images and its +own combinations in peculiar ways; and, thirdly, it penetrates, +analyzes, and reaches truths by no other faculty discoverable. These its +three functions, I shall endeavor to illustrate, but not in this order: +the most logical mode of treatment would be to follow the order in which +commonly the mind works; that is, penetrating first, combining next, and +treating or regarding, finally; but this arrangement would be +inconvenient, because the acts of penetration and of regard are so +closely connected, and so like in their relations to other mental acts, +that I wish to examine them consecutively, and the rather, because they +have to do with higher subject matter than the mere act of combination, +whose distinctive nature, that property which makes it imagination and +not composition, it will I think be best to explain at setting out, as +we easily may, in subjects familiar and material. I shall therefore +examine the imaginative faculty in these three forms; first, as +combining or associative; secondly, as analytic or penetrative; thirdly, +as regardant or contemplative.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_49" href="#FnAnchor_49">[49]</a> He continues thus, "To illustrate these observations, let us +consider the steps by which Milton must have proceeded, in creating his +imaginary garden of Eden. When he first proposed to himself that subject +of description, it is reasonable to suppose that a variety of the most +striking scenes which he had seen, crowded into his mind. The +association of ideas suggested them and the power of conception placed +each of them before him with all its beauties and imperfections. In +every natural scene, if we destine it for any particular purpose, there +are defects and redundancies, which art may sometimes, but cannot always +correct. But the power of imagination is unlimited. She can create and +annihilate, and dispose at pleasure her woods, her rocks, and her +rivers. Milton, accordingly, would not copy his Eden from any one scene, +but would select from each the features which were most eminently +beautiful. The power of abstraction enabled him to make the separation, +and taste directed him in the selection."</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page147"></a>[Page 147]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<h5>OF IMAGINATION ASSOCIATIVE.</h5> + +<p>In order to render our inquiry as easy as possible, we shall consider +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p1">§ 1. Of simple conception.</a></span>the dealing of the associative imagination +with the simplest possible matter, that is,—with conceptions of +material things. First, therefore, we must define the nature of these +conceptions themselves.</p> + +<p>After beholding and examining any material object, our knowledge +respecting it exists in two different forms. Some facts exist in the +brain in a verbal form, as known, but not conceived, as, for instance, +that it was heavy or light, that it was eight inches and a quarter long, +etc., of which length we cannot have accurate conception, but only such +a conception as might attach to a length of seven inches or nine; and +which fact we may recollect without any conception of the object at all. +Other facts respecting it exist in the brain in a visible form, not +always visible, but voluntarily visible, as its being white, or having +such and such a complicated shape, as the form of a rose-bud, for +instance, which it would be difficult to express verbally, neither is it +retained by the brain in a verbal form, but a visible one, that is, when +we wish for knowledge of its form for immediate use, we summon up a +vision or image of the thing; we do not remember it in words, as we +remember the fact that it took so many days to blow, or that it was +gathered at such and such a time.</p> + +<p>The knowledge of things retained in this visible form is called +conception by the metaphysicians, which term I shall retain; it is +inaccurately called imagination by Taylor, in the passage quoted by +Wordsworth in the preface to his poems, not but that the term +imagination is etymologically and rightly expressive of it, but we want +that term for a higher faculty.</p> + +<p>There are many questions respecting this faculty of conception of very +great interest, such as the exact amount of aid that <span class="pagenum"><a name="page148"></a>[Page 148]</span> verbal +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p2">§ 2. How connected with verbal knowledge.</a></span>knowledge renders so visible, +(as, for instance, the verbal knowledge that a flower has five, or +seven, or ten petals, or that a muscle is inserted at such and such a +point of the bone, aids the conception of the flower or the limb;) and +again, what amount of aid the visible knowledge renders to the verbal, +as for instance, whether any one, being asked a question about some +animal or thing, which instantly and from verbal knowledge he cannot +answer, may have such power of summoning up the image of the animal or +thing as to ascertain the fact, by actual beholding, (which I do not +assert, but can conceive to be possible;) and again, what is that +indefinite and subtile character of the conception itself in most men, +which admits not of being by themselves traced or realized, and yet is a +sure test of likeness in any representation of the thing; like an +intaglio, with a front light on it, whose lines cannot be seen, and yet +they will fit one definite form only, and that accurately; these and +many other questions it is irrelevant at present to determine,<a name="FnAnchor_50" href="#Footnote_50"><sup>[50]</sup></a> since +to forward our present purpose, it will be well to suppose the +conception, aided by verbal knowledge, to be absolutely perfect, and we +will suppose a man to retain such clear image of a large number of the +material things he has seen, as to be able to set down any of them on +paper with perfect fidelity and absolute memory<a name="FnAnchor_51" href="#Footnote_51"><sup>[51]</sup></a> of their most minute +features.</p> + +<p>In thus setting them down on paper, he works, I suppose, exactly as he +would work from nature, only copying the remembered image in his mind, +instead of the real thing. He is, therefore, still nothing more than a +copyist. There is no exercise of imagination in this whatsoever.</p> + +<p>But over these images, vivid and distinct as nature herself, he has a +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p3">§ 3. How used in composition.</a></span>command which over nature he has not. He +can summon any that he chooses, and if, therefore, any group of them +which he received from nature be not altogether to his mind, he is at +liberty to remove some of the component images, add others foreign, and +re-arrange the whole.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page149"></a>[Page 149]</span></p> + +<p>Let us suppose, for instance, that he has perfect knowledge of the forms +of the Aiguilles Verte and Argentičre, and of the great glacier between +them at the upper extremity of the valley of Chamonix. The forms of the +mountains please him, but the presence of the glacier suits not his +purpose. He removes the glacier, sets the mountains farther apart, and +introduces between them part of the valley of the Rhone.</p> + +<p>This is composition, and is what Dugald Stewart mistook for imagination, +in the kingdom of which noble faculty it has no part nor lot.</p> + +<p>The essential characters of composition, properly so called, are these. +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p4">§ 4. Characteristics of composition.</a></span>The mind which desires the new +feature summons up before it those images which it supposes to be of the +kind wanted, of these it takes the one which it supposes to be fittest, +and tries it: if it will not answer, it tries another, until it has +obtained such an association as pleases it.</p> + +<p>In this operation, if it be of little sensibility, it regards only the +absolute beauty or value of the images brought before it; and takes that +or those which it thinks fairest or most interesting, without any regard +to their sympathy with those for whose company they are destined. Of +this kind is all vulgar composition; the "Mulino" of Claude, described +in the preface to the first part, being a characteristic example.</p> + +<p>If the mind be of higher feeling, it will look to the sympathy or +contrast of the features, to their likeness or dissimilarity; it will +take, as it thinks best, features resembling or discordant, and if when +it has put them together, it be not satisfied, it will repeat the +process on the features themselves, cutting away one part and putting in +another, so working more and more delicately down to the lowest details, +until by dint of experiment, of repeated trials and shiftings, and +constant reference to principles, (as that two lines must not mimic one +another, that one mass must not be equal to another,) etc., it has +morticed together a satisfactory result.</p> + +<p>This process will be more and more rapid and effective, in proportion to +the artist's powers of conception and association, these in their turn +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p5">§ 5. What powers are implied by it. The first of the three functions of +fancy.</a></span>depending on his knowledge and experience. The distinctness of his +powers of conception will give value, point, and truth to every fragment +that he draws from memory. <span class="pagenum"><a name="page150"></a>[Page 150]</span> His powers of association, and his +knowledge of nature will pour out before him in greater or less number +and appositeness the images from which to choose. His experience guides +him to quick discernment in the combination, when made, of the parts +that are offensive and require change.</p> + +<p>The most elevated power of mind of all these, is that of association, by +which images apposite or resemblant, or of whatever kind wanted, are +called up quickly and in multitudes. When this power is very brilliant, +it is called fancy, not that this is the only meaning of the word fancy, +but it is the meaning of it in relation to that function of the +imagination which we are here considering; for fancy has three +functions; one subordinate to each of the three functions of the +imagination.</p> + +<p>Great differences of power are manifested among artists in this respect, +some having hosts of distinct images always at their command, and +rapidly discerning resemblance or contrast; others having few images, +and obscure, at their disposal, nor readily governing those they have.</p> + +<p>Where the powers of fancy are very brilliant, the picture becomes highly +interesting; if her images are systematically and rightly combined, and +truthfully rendered, it will become even impressive and instructive; if +wittily and curiously combined, it will be captivating and entertaining.</p> + +<p>But all this time the imagination has not once shown itself. All this +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p6">§ 6. Imagination not yet manifested.</a></span>(except the gift of fancy) may be +taught, all this is easily comprehended and analyzed; but imagination is +neither to be taught, nor by any efforts to be attained, nor by any +acuteness of discernment dissected or analyzed.</p> + +<p>We have seen that in composition the mind can only take cognizance of +likeness or dissimilarity, or of abstract beauty among the ideas it +brings together. But neither likeness nor dissimilarity secures harmony. +We saw in the chapter on unity that likeness destroyed harmony or unity +of membership, and that difference did not necessarily secure it, but +only that particular imperfection in each of the harmonizing parts which +can only be supplied by its fellow part. If, therefore, the combination +made is to be harmonious, the artist must induce in each of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page151"></a>[Page 151]</span> +its component parts (suppose two only, for simplicity's sake,) such +imperfection as that the other shall put it right. If one of them be +perfect by itself, the other will be an excrescence. Both must be faulty +when separate, and each corrected by the presence of the other. If he +can accomplish this, the result will be beautiful; it will be a whole, +an organized body with dependent members;—he is an inventor. If not, +let his separate features be as beautiful, as apposite, or as resemblant +as they may, they form no whole. They are two members glued together. He +is only a carpenter and joiner.</p> + +<p>Now, the conceivable imperfections of any single feature are infinite. +It is impossible, therefore, to fix upon a form of imperfection in the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p7">§ 7. Imagination is the correlative conception of imperfect component +parts.</a></span>one, and try with this all the forms of imperfection of the other +until one fits; but the two imperfections must be corelatively and +simultaneously conceived.</p> + +<p>This is imagination, properly so called, imagination associative, the +grandest mechanical power that the human intelligence possesses, and one +which will appear more and more marvellous the longer we consider it. By +its operation, two ideas are chosen out of an infinite mass, (for it +evidently matters not whether the imperfections be conceived out of the +infinite number conceivable, or selected out of a number recollected,) +two ideas which are separately wrong, which together shall be right, and +of whose unity, therefore, the idea must be formed at the instant they +are seized, as it is only in that unity that either are good, and +therefore only the <i>conception of that unity can prompt the preference</i>. +Now, what is that prophetic action of mind, which, out of an infinite +mass of things that cannot be tried together, seizes, at the same +instant two that are fit for each other, together right; yet each +disagreeable alone.</p> + +<p>This operation of mind, so far as I can see, is absolutely <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p8">§ 8. Material +analogy with imagination.</a></span>inexplicable, but there is something like it in +chemistry.</p> + +<p>"The action of sulphuric acid on metallic zinc affords an instance of +what was once called disposing affinity. Zinc decomposes pure water at +common temperatures with extreme slowness; but as soon as sulphuric acid +is added, decomposition of the water takes place rapidly, though the +acid merely unites <span class="pagenum"><a name="page152"></a>[Page 152]</span> with oxide of zinc. The former explanation +was, that the affinity of the acid for oxide of zinc disposed the metal +to unite with oxygen, and thus enabled it to decompose water; that is, +the oxide of zinc was supposed to produce an effect previous to its +existence. The obscurity of this explanation arises from regarding +changes as consecutive, which are in reality simultaneous. There is no +succession in the process, the oxide of zinc is not formed previously to +its combination with the acid, but at the same instant. There is, as it +were, but one chemical change, which consists in the combination at one +and the same moment of zinc with oxygen, and of oxide of zinc with the +acid; and this change occurs because these two affinities, acting +together, overcome the attraction of oxygen and hydrogen for one +another."<a name="FnAnchor_52" href="#Footnote_52"><sup>[52]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Now, if the imaginative artist will permit us, with all deference, to +represent his combining intelligence under the figure of sulphuric acid; +and if we suppose the fragment of zinc to be embarrassed among +infinitely numerous fragments of diverse metals, and the oxygen +dispersed and mingled among gases countless and indistinguishable, we +shall have an excellent type in material things of the action of the +imagination on the immaterial. Both actions are, I think, inexplicable, +for however simultaneous the chemical changes may be, yet the causing +power is the affinity of the acid for what has no existence. It is +neither to be explained how that affinity operates on atoms uncombined, +nor how the artist's desire for an unconceived whole prompts him to the +selection of necessary divisions.</p> + +<p>Now, this operation would be wonderful enough, if it were concerned with +two ideas only. But a powerfully imaginative mind seizes and combines +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p9">§ 9. The grasp and dignity of imagination.</a></span>at the same instant, not only +two, but all the important ideas of its poem or picture, and while it +works with any one of them, it is at the same instant working with and +modifying all in their relations to it, never losing sight of their +bearings on each other; as the motion of a snake's body goes through all +parts at once, and its volition acts at the same instant in coils that +go contrary ways.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page153"></a>[Page 153]</span></p> + +<p>This faculty is indeed something that looks as if man were made after +the image of God. It is inconceivable, admirable, altogether divine; and +yet wonderful as it may seem, it is palpably evident that no less an +operation is necessary for the production of any great work, for, by the +definition of unity of membership, (the essential characteristic of +greatness,) not only certain couples or groups of parts, but <i>all</i> the +parts of a noble work must be separately imperfect; each must imply, and +ask for all the rest, and the glory of every one of them must consist in +its relation to the rest, neither while so much as one is wanting can +any be right. And it is evidently impossible to conceive in each +separate feature, a certain want or wrongness which can only be +corrected by the other features of the picture, (not by one or two +merely, but by all,) unless together with the want, we conceive also of +what is wanted, that is of all the rest of the work or picture. Hence +Fuseli:—</p> + +<p>"Second thoughts are admissible in painting and poetry only as dressers +of the first conception; no great idea was ever formed in fragments."</p> + +<p>"He alone can conceive and compose who sees the whole at once before +him."</p> + +<p>There is, however, a limit to the power of all human imagination. When +the relations to be observed are absolutely necessary, and highly <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p10">§ 10. +Its limits.</a></span>complicated, the mind cannot grasp them, and the result is a +total deprivation of all power of imagination associative in such +matter. For this reason, no human mind has ever conceived a new animal. +For as it is evident that in an animal, every part implies all the rest; +that is, the form of the eye involves the form of the brow and nose, +these the form of the forehead and lip, these of the head and chin, and +so on, so that it is physically impossible to conceive of any one of +these members, unless we conceive the relation it bears to the whole +animal; and as this relation is necessary, certain, and complicated, +allowing of no license or inaccuracy, the intellect utterly fails under +the load, and is reduced to mere composition, putting the bird's wing on +men's shoulders, or half the human body to half the horse's, in doing +which there is no action of imagination, but only of fancy; though in +the treatment and contemplation of the compound form there <span class="pagenum"><a name="page154"></a>[Page 154]</span> +may be much imagination, as we shall presently see. (<a href="#s2c3p30">Chap. III. § 30</a>.)</p> + +<p>The matter, therefore, in which associative imagination can be shown is +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p11">§ 11. How manifested in treatment of uncertain relations. Its deficiency +illustrated.</a></span>that which admits of great license and variety of +arrangements, and in which a certain amount of relation only is +required; as especially in the elements of landscape painting, in which +best it may be illustrated.</p> + +<p>When an unimaginative painter is about to draw a tree, (and we will +suppose him, for better illustration of the point in question, to have +good feeling and correct knowledge of the nature of trees,) he probably +lays on his paper such a general form as he knows to be characteristic +of the tree to be drawn, and such as he believes will fall in agreeably +with the other masses of his picture, which we will suppose partly +prepared. When this form is set down, he assuredly finds it has done +something he did not intend it to do. It has mimicked some prominent +line, or overpowered some necessary mass. He begins pruning and +changing, and after several experiments, succeeds in obtaining a form +which does no material mischief to any other. To this form he proceeds +to attach a trunk, and having probably a received notion or rule (for +the unimaginative painter never works without a principle) that tree +trunks ought to lean first one way and then the other as they go up, and +ought not to stand under the middle of the tree, he sketches a +serpentine form of requisite propriety; when it has gone up far enough, +that is till it begins to look disagreeably long, he will begin to +ramify it, and if there be another tree in the picture with two large +branches, he knows that this, by all laws of composition, ought to have +three or four, or some different number; one because he knows that if +three or four branches start from the same point they will look formal, +therefore he makes them start from points one above another, and because +equal distances are improper, therefore they shall start at unequal +distances. When they are fairly started, he knows they must undulate or +go backwards and forwards, which accordingly he makes them do at random; +and because he knows that all forms ought to be contrasted, therefore he +makes one bend down while the other three go up. The three that go up he +knows must not go up <span class="pagenum"><a name="page155"></a>[Page 155]</span> without interfering with each other, and +so he makes two of them cross. He thinks it also proper that there +should be variety of character in them, so he makes the one that bends +down graceful and flexible, and of the two that cross, he splinters one +and makes a stump of it. He repeats the process among the more +complicated minor boughs, until coming to the smallest, he thinks +farther care unnecessary, but draws them freely, and by chance. Having +to put on the foliage, he will make it flow properly in the direction of +the tree's growth, he will make all the extremities graceful, but will +be grievously plagued by finding them come all alike, and at last will +be obliged to spoil a number of them altogether, in order to obtain +opposition. They will not, however, be united in this their spoliation, +but will remain uncomfortably separate and individually ill-tempered. He +consoles himself by the reflection that it is unnatural for all of them +to be equally perfect.</p> + +<p>Now I suppose that through the whole of this process he has been able to +refer to his definite memory or conception of nature for every one of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p12">§ 12. Laws of art, the safeguard of the unimaginative.</a></span>the fragments he +has successively added, that the details, color, fractures, insertions, +etc., of his boughs, are all either actual recollections or based on +secure knowledge of the tree, (and herein I allow far more than is +commonly the case with unimaginative painters.) But as far as the +process of combination is concerned, it is evident that from beginning +to end his laws have been his safety, and his plague has been his +liberty. He has been compelled to work at random, or under the guidance +of feeling only, whenever there was anything left to his own decision. +He has never been decided in anything except in what he <i>must</i> or <i>must +not</i> do. He has walked as a drunken man on a broad road, his guides are +the hedges; and between these limits, the broader the way, the worse he +gets on.</p> + +<p>The advance of the imaginative artist is precisely the reverse of this. +He has no laws. He defies all restraint, and cuts down all hedges. There +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p13">§ 13. Are by the imaginative painter despised. Tests of imagination.</a></span>is +nothing within the limits of natural possibility that he dares not do, +or that he allows the necessity of doing. The laws of nature he knows, +are to him no restraint. They are his own nature. All other laws or +limits he sets at utter defiance, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page156"></a>[Page 156]</span> his journey is over an +untrodden and pathless plain. But he sees his end over the waste from +the first, and goes straight at it, never losing sight of it, nor +throwing away a step. Nothing can stop him, nothing turn him aside; +falcons and lynxes are of slow and uncertain sight compared with his. He +saw his tree, trunk, boughs, foliage and all, from the first moment; not +only the tree but the sky behind it; not only that tree or sky, but all +the other great features of his picture: by what intense power of +instantaneous selection and amalgamation cannot be explained, but by +this it may be proved and tested, that if we examine the tree of the +unimaginative painter, we shall find that on removing any part or parts +of it, the rest will indeed suffer, as being deprived of the proper +development of a tree, and as involving a blank space that wants +occupation; but the portions left are not made discordant or +disagreeable. They are absolutely and in themselves as valuable as they +can be, every stem is a perfect stem, and every twig a graceful twig, or +at least as perfect and as graceful as they were before the removal of +the rest. But if we try the same experiment on the imaginative painter's +work, and break off the merest stem or twig of it, it all goes to pieces +like a Prince Rupert's drop. There is not so much as a seed of it but it +lies on the tree's life, like the grain upon the tongue of Chaucer's +sainted child. Take it away, and the boughs will sing to us no longer. +All is dead and cold.</p> + +<p>This then is the first sign of the presence of real imagination as <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p14">§ 14. +The monotony of unimaginative treatment.</a></span>opposed to composition. But here +is another not less important.</p> + +<p>We have seen that as each part is selected and fitted by the +unimaginative painter, he renders it, in itself, as beautiful as he is +able. If it be ugly, it remains so, he is incapable of correcting it by +the addition of another ugliness, and therefore he chooses all his +features as fair as they may be (at least if his object be beauty.) But +a small proportion only of the ideas he has at his disposal will reach +his standard of absolute beauty. The others will be of no use to him, +and among those which he permits himself to use, there will be so marked +a family likeness, that he will be more and more cramped, as his picture +advances, for want of material, and tormented by multiplying +resemblances, unless disguised by some artifice of light and shade or +other <span class="pagenum"><a name="page157"></a>[Page 157]</span> forced difference, and with all the differences he can +imagine, his tree will yet show a sameness and sickening repetition in +all its parts, and all his trees will be like one another, except so far +as one leans east and another west, one is broadest at the top and +another at the bottom, while through all this insipid repetition, the +means by which he forces contrast, dark boughs opposed to light, rugged +to smooth, etc., will be painfully evident, to the utter destruction of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p15">§ 15. Imagination never repeats itself.</a></span>all dignity and repose. The +imaginative work is necessarily the absolute opposite of all this. As +all its parts are imperfect, and as there is an unlimited supply of +imperfection, (for the ways in which things may be wrong are infinite,) +the imagination is never at a loss, nor ever likely to repeat itself; +nothing comes amiss to it, but whatever rude matter it receives, it +instantly so arranges that it comes right; all things fall into their +place and appear in that place perfect, useful, and evidently not to be +spared, so that of its combinations there is endless variety, and every +intractable and seemingly unavailable fragment that we give to it, is +instantly turned to some brilliant use, and made the nucleus of a new +group of glory; however poor or common the gift, it will be thankful for +it, treasure it up, and pay in gold, and it has that life in it and +fire, that wherever it passes, among the dead bones and dust of things, +behold a shaking, and the bones come together, bone to his bone.</p> + +<p>And now we find what noble sympathy and unity there is between the +imaginative and theoretic faculties. Both agree in this, that they <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p16">§ 16. +Relation of the imaginative faculty to the theoretic.</a></span>reject nothing, and +are thankful for all; but the theoretic faculty takes out of everything +that which is beautiful, while the imaginative faculty takes hold of the +very imperfections which the theoretic rejects, and by means of these +angles and roughnesses, it joints and bolts the separate stones into a +mighty temple, wherein the theoretic faculty in its turn, does deepest +homage. Thus sympathetic in their desires, harmoniously diverse in their +operation, each working for the other with what the other needs not, all +things external to man are by one or other turned to good.</p> + +<p>Now we have hitherto, for the sake of clearness, opposed the total +absence of imagination to the perfect presence of it, in order to make +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p17">§ 17. Modification of its manifestation.</a></span>the difference between +composition and imagination <span class="pagenum"><a name="page158"></a>[Page 158]</span> thoroughly understood. But if we +are to give examples of either the want or the presence of the power, it +is necessary to note the circumstances by which both are modified. In +the first place, few artists of any standing are totally devoid of this +faculty, some small measure of it most of them possess, though of all +the forms of intellect, this, and its sister, penetrative imagination, +are the rarest and most precious; but few painters have reached eminence +without some leaven of it, whether it can be increased by practice I +doubt. On the other hand, fewer still are possessed of it in very high +degree, and even with the men of most gigantic power in this respect, of +whom, I think, Tintoret stands far the head, there are evident limits to +its exercise, and portions to be found in their works that have not been +included in the original grasp of them, but have been suggested and +incorporated during their progress, or added in decoration; and with the +great mass of painters there are frequent flaws and failures in the +conception, so that, when they intend to produce a perfect work they +throw their thought into different experimental forms, and decorate it +and discipline it long before realizing it, so that there is a certain +amount of mere composition in the most imaginative works; and a grain or +two of imagination commonly in the most artificial. And again, whatever +portions of a picture are taken honestly and without alteration from +nature, have, so far as they go, the look of imagination, because all +that nature does is imaginative, that is, perfect as a whole, and made +up of imperfect features; so that the painter of the meanest imaginative +power may yet do grand things, if he will keep to strict portraiture, +and it would be well if all artists were to endeavor to do so, for if +they have imagination, it will force its way in spite of them, and show +itself in their every stroke, and if not, they will not get it by +leaving nature, but only sink into nothingness.</p> + +<p>Keeping these points in view, it is interesting to observe the different +degrees and relations of the imagination, as accompanied with more or +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p18">§ 18. Instances of absence of imagination.—Claude, Gaspar Poussin.</a></span>less +feeling or desire of harmony, vigor of conception, or constancy of +reference to truth. Of men of name, perhaps Claude is the best instance +of a want of imagination, nearly total, borne out by painful but +untaught study of nature, and much feeling for <span class="pagenum"><a name="page159"></a>[Page 159]</span> abstract +beauty of form, with none whatever for harmony of expression. In Gaspar +Poussin, we have the same want of imagination disguised by more +masculine qualities of mind, and grander reachings after sympathy. Thus +in the sacrifice of Isaac in our own gallery, the spirit of the +composition is solemn and unbroken; it would have been a grand picture +if the forms of the mass of foliage on the right, and of the clouds in +the centre, had not been <span class="correction" title="originally hoplessly">hopelessly</span> unimaginative. The stormy wind of +the picture of Dido and Eneas blows loudly through its leaves, but the +total want of invention in the cloud forms bears it down beyond +redemption. The foreground tree of the La Riccia (compare Part II. Sec. +VI. Chap. I., § 6.) is another characteristic instance of absolute +nullity of imagination.</p> + +<table class="nobctr" summary="Illustration"> +<tr> + <td><span class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img159.jpg" width="650" height="445" alt="THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI." title="THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI." /></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="caption">THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI. <br />From a painting by Ruskin, after Tintoret.</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>In Salvator, the imagination is vigorous, the composition dextrous and +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p19">§ 19. Its presence.—Salvator, Nicolo Poussin, Titian, Tintoret.</a></span>clever, +as in the St. Jerome of the Brera Gallery, the Diogenes of the Pitti, +and the pictures of the Guadagni palace. All are rendered valueless by +coarseness of feeling and habitual non-reference to nature.</p> + +<p>All the landscape of Nicolo Poussin is imaginative, but the development +of the power in Tintoret and Titian is so unapproachably intense that +the mind unwillingly rests elsewhere. The four landscapes which occur to +me as the most magnificently characteristic are, first, the Flight into +Egypt, of the Scuola di San Rocco (Tintoret;) secondly, the Titian of +the Camuccini collection at Rome, with the figures by John Bellini; +thirdly, Titian's St. Jerome, in the Brera Gallery at Milan; and +fourthly, the St. Pietro Martire, which I name last, in spite of its +importance, because there is something unmeaning and unworthy of Titian +about the undulation of the trunks, and the upper part of it is +destroyed by the intrusion of some dramatic clouds of that species +which I have enough described in our former examination of the central +cloud region, § 13.</p> + +<p>I do not mean to set these four works above the rest of the landscape of +these masters; I name them only because the landscape is in them +prominent and characteristic. It would be well to compare with them the +other backgrounds of Tintoret in the Scuola, especially that of the +Temptation and the Agony in <span class="pagenum"><a name="page160"></a>[Page 160]</span> the Garden, and the landscape of +the two large pictures in the church of La Madonna dell' Orto.</p> + +<p>But for immediate and close illustration, it is perhaps best to refer to +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p20">§ 20. And Turner.</a></span>a work more accessible, the Cephalus and Procris of +Turner, in Liber Studiorum.</p> + +<p>I know of no landscape more purely or magnificently imaginative or +bearing more distinct evidence of the relative and simultaneous +conception of the parts. Let the reader first cover with his hand the +two trunks that rise against the sky on the right, and ask himself how +any termination of the central mass so <i>ugly</i> as the straight trunk +which he will then painfully see, could have been conceived or admitted +without simultaneous conception of the trunks he has taken away on the +right? Let him again conceal the whole central mass, and leave these two +only, and again ask himself whether anything so ugly as that bare trunk +in the shape of a Y, could have been admitted without reference to the +central mass? Then let him remove from this trunk its two arms, and try +the effect; let him again remove the single trunk on the extreme right; +then let him try the third trunk without the excrescence at the bottom +of it; finally, let him conceal the fourth trunk from the right, with +the slender boughs at the top; he will find in each case that he has +destroyed a feature on which everything else depends, and if proof be +required of the vital power of still smaller features, let him remove +the sunbeam that comes through beneath the faint mass of trees on the +hill in the distance.<a name="FnAnchor_53" href="#Footnote_53"><sup>[53]</sup></a></p> + +<p>It is useless to enter into farther particulars; the reader may be left +to his own close examination of this and of the other works of Turner, +in which he will always find the associative imagination developed in +the most profuse and marvellous modes, especially in the drawing of +foliage and skies, in both of which the presence or absence of the +associative power may best be tested in all artists. I have, however, +confined my present illustrations chiefly to foliage, because other +operations of the imagination besides the associative, interfere +extensively in the treatment of sky.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page161"></a>[Page 161]</span></p> + +<p>There remains but one question to be determined relating to this <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p21">§ 21. +The due function of Associative Imagination with respect to +nature.</a></span>faculty, what operation, namely, supposing it possessed in high +degree, it has or ought to have in the artist's treatment of natural +scenery.</p> + +<p>I have just said that nature is always imaginative, but it does not +follow that her imagination is always of high subject, or that the +imagination of all the parts is of a like and sympathetic kind; the +boughs of every bramble bush are imaginatively arranged, so are those of +every oak and cedar; but it does not follow that there is imaginative +sympathy between bramble and cedar. There are few natural scenes whose +harmonies are not conceivably improvable either by banishment of some +discordant point, or by addition of some sympathetic one; it constantly +happens that there is a profuseness too great to be comprehended, or an +inequality in the pitch, meaning, and intensity of different parts. The +imagination will banish all that is extraneous, it will seize out of the +many threads of different feeling which nature has suffered to become +entangled, one only, and where that seems thin and likely to break, it +will spin it stouter, and in doing this, it never knots, but weaves in +the new thread, so that all its work looks as pure and true as nature +itself, and cannot be guessed from it but by its exceeding simplicity, +(<i>known</i> from it, it cannot be,) so that herein we find another test of +the imaginative work, that it looks always as if it had been gathered +straight from nature, whereas the unimaginative shows its joints and +knots, and is visibly composition.</p> + +<p>And here then we arrive at an important conclusion (though one somewhat +contrary to the positions commonly held on the subject,) namely, that if +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c2p22">§ 22. The sign of imaginative work is its appearance of absolute +truth.</a></span>anything looks unnatural, there can be no imagination in it (at +least not associative.) We frequently hear works that have no truth in +them, justified or elevated on the score of being imaginative. Let it be +understood once for all, that imagination never designs to touch +anything but truth, and though it does not follow that where there is +the appearance of truth, there has been imaginative operation, of this +we may be assured, that where there is appearance of falsehood, the +imagination has had no hand.<a name="FnAnchor_54" href="#Footnote_54"><sup>[54]</sup></a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page162"></a>[Page 162]</span></p> + +<p>For instance, the landscape above mentioned of Titian's St. Jerome may, +for aught I know, be a pure transcript of a rocky slope covered with +chestnuts among his native mountains. It has all the look of a sketch +from nature; if it be not, the imagination developed in it is of the +highest order; if it be, the imagination has only acted in the +suggestion of the dark sky, of the shape of the flakes of solemn cloud, +and of the gleam of russet light along the distant ground.<a name="FnAnchor_55" href="#Footnote_55"><sup>[55]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Again, it is impossible to tell whether the two nearest trunks of the +Ęsacus and Hesperie of the Liber Studiorum, especially the large one on +the right with the ivy, have been invented, or taken straight from +nature, they have all the look of accurate portraiture. I can hardly +imagine anything so perfect to have been obtained except from the real +thing; but we know that the imagination must have begun to operate +somewhere, we cannot tell where, since the multitudinous harmonies of +the rest of the picture could hardly in any real scene have continued so +inviolately sweet.</p> + +<p>The final tests, therefore, of the work of associative imagination are +its intense simplicity, its perfect harmony, and its absolute truth. It +may be a harmony, majestic, or humble, abrupt, or prolonged, but it is +always a governed and perfect whole, evidencing in all its relations the +weight, prevalence, and universal dominion of an awful, inexplicable +Power; a chastising, animating, and disposing Mind.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_50" href="#FnAnchor_50">[50]</a> Compare Chapter IV. of this Section.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_51" href="#FnAnchor_51">[51]</a> On the distinction rightly made by the metaphysicians between +conception absolute and conception accompanied by reference to past +time, (or memory,) it is of no necessity here to insist.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_52" href="#FnAnchor_52">[52]</a> Elements of Chemistry, by the late Edward Turner, M.D. Part II. +Sec. IV.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_53" href="#FnAnchor_53">[53]</a> This ray of light, however, has an imaginative power of another +kind presently to be spoken of. Compare <a href="#s2c4p18">Chap. IV. § 18</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_54" href="#FnAnchor_54">[54]</a> Compare <a href="#s2c3p30">Chap. III. §30</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_55" href="#FnAnchor_55">[55]</a> It is said at Venice that Titian took the trees of the St. Pietro +Martiere out of his garden opposite Murano. I think this unlikely; there +is something about the lower trunks that has a taint of composition: the +thought of the whole, however, is thoroughly fine. The backgrounds of +the frescoes at Padua are also very characteristic, and the well-known +woodcut of St. Francis receiving the stigmata, one of the mightiest of +existing landscape thoughts; and yet it is pure portraiture of pine and +Spanish chestnut.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page163"></a>[Page 163]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<h5>OF IMAGINATION PENETRATIVE.</h5> + +<p>Thus far we have been defining that combining operation of the +imagination, which appears to be in a sort mechanical, yet takes place +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p1">§ 1. Imagination penetrative is concerned not with the combining but +apprehending of things.</a></span>in the same inexplicable modes, whatever be the +order of conception submitted to it, though I chose to illustrate it by +its dealings with mere matter before taking cognizance of any nobler +subjects of imagery. We must now examine the dealing of the imagination +with its separate conceptions, and endeavor to understand not only its +principles of selection, but its modes of apprehension with respect to +what it selects.</p> + +<p>When Milton's Satan first "rears from off the pool, his mighty stature," +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p2">§ 2. Milton's and Dante's description of flame.</a></span>the image of Leviathan +before suggested not being yet abandoned, the effect on the fire-wave is +described as of the upheaved monster on the ocean stream.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "On each hand the flames, <br /> + Driven backwards, slope their pointing spires, and rolled <br /> + In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale." +</p> + +<p class="noind">And then follows a fiercely restless piece of volcanic imagery.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"><span style="padding-left: 7em; ">"As when the force <br /></span> + Of subterranean wind transports a hill <br /> + Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side <br /> + Of thundering Ętna, whose combustible <br /> + And fuell'd entrails thence conceiving fire, <br /> + Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, <br /> + And leave a singed bottom, all involved <br /> + With stench and smoke; such resting found the sole <br /> + Of unblest feet." +</p> + +<p>Yet I think all this is too far detailed, and deals too much with +externals; we feel rather the form of the fire-waves than their fury, we +walk upon them too securely, and the fuel, sublimation, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page164"></a>[Page 164]</span> +smoke, and singeing, seem to me images only of partial combustion; they +vary and extend the conception, but they lower the thermometer. Look +back, if you will, and add to the description the glimmering of the +livid flames; the sulphurous hail and red lightning; yet altogether, +however they overwhelm us with horror, fail of making us thoroughly, +unendurably hot. The intense essence of flame has not been given. Now +hear Dante:—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Feriami 'l Sole in su l'omero destro <br /> + Che gią raggiando tutto l'Occidente <br /> + <i>Mutava in bianco aspetto di eilestro. <br /> + Ed io</i> facea <i>con l'ombra <span class="correction" title="originally without an accent">pił</span> rovente <br /> + Parer la flamma</i>." +</p> + + +<p>That is a slight touch; he has not gone to Ętna nor Pelorus for fuel; +but we shall not soon recover from it—he has taken our breath away and +leaves us gasping. No smoke nor cinders there. Pure, white, hurtling, +formless flame; very fire crystal, we cannot make spires nor waves of +it, nor divide it, nor walk on it, there is no question about singeing +soles of feet. It is lambent annihilation.</p> + +<p>Such is always the mode in which the highest imaginative faculty seizes +its materials. It never stops at crusts or ashes, or outward images of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p3">§ 3. The imagination seizes always by the innermost point.</a></span>any kind, it +ploughs them all aside, and plunges into the very central fiery heart, +nothing else will content its spirituality, whatever semblances and +various outward shows and phases its subject may possess, go for +nothing, it gets within all fence, cuts down to the root, and drinks the +very vital sap of that it deals with: once there it is at liberty to +throw up what new shoots it will, so always that the true juice and sap +be in them, and to prune and twist them at its pleasure, and bring them +to fairer fruit than grew on the old tree; but all this pruning and +twisting is work that it likes not, and often does ill; its function and +gift are the getting at the root, its nature and dignity depend on its +holding things always by the heart. Take its hand from off the beating +of that, and it will prophesy no longer; it looks not in the eyes, it +judges not by the voice, it describes not by outward features, all that +it affirms, judges, or describes, it affirms from within.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page165"></a>[Page 165]</span></p> + +<p>It may seem to the reader that I am incorrect in calling this +penetrating, possession-taking faculty, imagination. Be it so, the name +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p4">§ 4. It acts intuitively and without reasoning.</a></span>is of little consequence; +the faculty itself, called by what name we will, I insist upon as the +highest intellectual power of man. There is no reasoning in it, it works +not by algebra, nor by integral calculus, it is a piercing, Pholas-like +mind's tongue that works and tastes into the very rock heart, no matter +what be the subject submitted to it, substance or spirit, all is alike, +divided asunder, joint and marrow, whatever utmost truth, life, +principle, it has, laid bare, and that which has no truth, life, nor +principle, dissipated into its original smoke at a touch. The whispers +at men's ears it lifts into visible angels. Vials that have lain sealed +in the deep sea a thousand years it unseals, and brings out of them +Genii.</p> + +<p>Every great conception of poet or painter is held and treated by this +faculty. Every character that is so much as touched by men like +Ęschylus, Homer, Dante, or Shakspeare, is by them held by the heart; and +every circumstance or sentence of their being, speaking, or seeming, is +seized by process from within, and is referred to that inner secret +spring of which the hold is never lost for an instant; so that every +sentence, as it has been thought out from the heart, opens for us a way +down to the heart, leads us to the centre, and then leaves us to gather +what more we may; it is the open sesame of a huge, obscure, endless +cave, with inexhaustible treasure of pure gold scattered in it: the +wandering about and gathering the pieces may be left to any of us, all +can accomplish that; but the first opening of that invisible door in the +rock is of the imagination only.</p> + +<p>Hence there is in every word set down by the imaginative mind an awful +under-current of meaning, and evidence and shadow upon it of the deep +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p5">§ 5. Signs of it in language.</a></span>places out of which it has come. It is +often obscure, often half told, for he who wrote it, in his clear seeing +of the things beneath, may have been impatient of detailed +interpretation, but if we choose to dwell upon it and trace it, it will +lead us always securely back to that metropolis of the soul's dominion +from which we may follow out all the ways and tracks to its farthest +coasts.</p> + +<p>I think the "Quel giorno pił non vi leggemmo avante" of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page166"></a>[Page 166]</span> +Francesca di Rimini, and the "He has no children" of Macduff are as fine +instances as can be given, but the sign and mark of it are visible on +every line of the four great men above instanced.</p> + +<p>The imaginative writer, on the other hand, as he has never pierced to +the heart, so he can never touch it: if he has to paint a passion, he +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p6">§ 6. Absence of imagination, how shown.</a></span>remembers the external signs of +it, he collects expressions of it from other writers, he searches for +similes, he composes, exaggerates, heaps term on term, figure on figure, +till we groan beneath the cold, disjointed heap; but it is all faggot +and no fire, the life breath is not in it, his passion has the form of +the Leviathan, but it never makes the deep boil, he fastens us all at +anchor in the scaly rind of it, our sympathies remain as idle as a +painted ship upon a painted ocean.</p> + +<p>And that virtue of originality that men so strain after, is not newness, +as they vainly think, (there is nothing new,) it is only genuineness; it +all depends on this single glorious faculty of getting to the spring of +things and working out from that; it is the coolness, and clearness, +and deliciousness of the water fresh from the fountain head, opposed to +the thick, hot, unrefreshing drainage from other men's meadows.</p> + +<p>This freshness, however, is not to be taken for an infallible sign of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p7">§ 7. Distinction between imagination and fancy.</a></span>imagination, inasmuch as +it results also from a vivid operation of fancy, whose parallel function +to this division of the imaginative faculty it is here necessary to +distinguish.</p> + +<p>I believe it will be found that the entirely unimaginative mind <i>sees</i> +nothing of the object it has to dwell upon or describe, and is therefore +utterly unable, as it is blind itself, to set anything before the eyes +of the reader.<a name="FnAnchor_56" href="#Footnote_56"><sup>[56]</sup></a></p> + +<p>The fancy sees the outside, and is able to give a portrait of the +outside, clear, brilliant, and full of detail.<a name="FnAnchor_57" href="#Footnote_57"><sup>[57]</sup></a></p> + +<p>The imagination sees the heart and inner nature, and makes them felt, +but is often obscure, mysterious, and interrupted, in its giving of +outer detail.</p> + +<p>Take an instance. A writer with neither imagination nor <span class="pagenum"><a name="page167"></a>[Page 167]</span> +fancy, describing a fair lip, does not see it, but thinks about it, and +about what is said of it, and calls it well-turned, or rosy, or +delicate, or lovely, or afflicts us with some other quenching and +chilling epithet. Now hear fancy speak,—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Her lips were red, and one was thin, <br /> + Compared with that was next her chin, <br /> + Some bee had stung it newly."<a name="FnAnchor_58" href="#Footnote_58"><sup>[58]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p>The real, red, bright being of the lip is there in a moment But it is +all outside; no expression yet, no mind. Let us go a step farther with +Warner, of fair Rosamond struck by Eleanor.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "With that she dashed her on the lips <br /> + So dyed double red; <br /> + Hard was the heart that gave the blow, <br /> + Soft were those lips that bled." +</p> + + +<p>The tenderness of mind begins to mingle with the outside color, the +imagination is seen in its awakening. Next Shelley,—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Lamp of life, thy lips are burning <br /> + Through the veil that seems to hide them, <br /> + As the radiant lines of morning <br /> + Through thin clouds, ere they divide them." +</p> + +<p>There dawns the entire soul in that morning; yet we may stop if we +choose at the image still external, at the crimson clouds. The +imagination is contemplative rather than penetrative. Last, hear +Hamlet,—</p> + +<p>"Here hung those lips that I have kissed, I know not how oft. Where be +your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that +were wont to set the table on a roar?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page168"></a>[Page 168]</span></p> + +<p>There is the essence of lip, and the full power of the imagination.</p> + +<p>Again, compare Milton's flowers in Lycidas with Perdita's. In Milton it +happens, I think, generally, and in the case before us most certainly, +that the imagination is mixed and broken with fancy, and so the strength +of the imagery is part of iron and part of clay.</p> + +<table style="margin-left: 5%; font-size: 0.9em; " summary="Milton."> +<tr><td> "Bring the rathe primrose, that forsaken dies</td> <td style="padding-left: 3em; ">(Imagination)</td></tr> +<tr><td> The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,</td> <td style="padding-left: 3em; ">(Nugatory)</td></tr> +<tr><td> The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet,—</td> <td style="padding-left: 3em; ">(Fancy)</td></tr> +<tr><td> The glowing violet,</td> <td style="padding-left: 3em; ">(Imagination)</td></tr> +<tr><td> The musk rose, and the well-attired woodbine,</td> <td style="padding-left: 3em; ">(Fancy, vulgar)</td></tr> +<tr><td> With cowslips wan, that hang the pensive head,</td> <td style="padding-left: 3em; ">(Imagination)</td></tr> +<tr><td> And every flower that sad embroidery wears."</td> <td style="padding-left: 3em; ">(Mixed)</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>Then hear Perdita:—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + <span style="padding-left: 9em; ">"O, Proserpina, <br /></span> + For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall <br /> + From Dis's wagon. Daffodils <br /> + That come before the swallow dares, and take <br /> + The winds of March with beauty. Violets, dim, <br /> + But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes <br /> + Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses <br /> + That die unmarried, ere they can behold <br /> + Bright Phœbus in his strength, a malady <br /> + Most incident to maids." +</p> + +<p>Observe how the imagination in these last lines goes into the very +inmost soul of every flower, after having touched them all at first with +that heavenly timidness, the shadow of Proserpine's; and gilded them +with celestial gathering, and never stops on their spots, or their +bodily shape, while Milton sticks in the stains upon them, and puts us +off with that unhappy freak of jet in the very flower that without this +bit of paper-staining would have been the most precious to us of all. +"There is pansies, that's for thoughts."</p> + +<p>So I believe it will be found throughout the operation of the fancy, +that it has to do with the outsides of things, and is content therewith: +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p8">§ 8. Fancy how involved with imagination.</a></span>of this there can be no doubt +in such passage as that description of Mab, so often given as an +illustration of it, and many other instances will be found in Leigh +Hunt's work already referred to. <span class="pagenum"><a name="page169"></a>[Page 169]</span> Only some embarrassment is +caused by passages in which fancy is seizing the outward signs of +emotion, understanding them as such, and yet, in pursuance of her proper +function, taking for her share, and for that which she chooses to dwell +upon, the outside sign rather than the emotion. Note in Macbeth that +brilliant instance.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky <br /> + And fan our people cold." +</p> + +<p>The outward shiver and coldness of fear is seized on, and irregularly +but admirably attributed by the fancy to the drift of the banners. +Compare Solomon's Song where the imagination stays not at the outside, +but dwells on the fearful emotion itself?</p> + +<p style="font-size: 0.9em; "> + "Who is she that looketh forth as the morning; fair as the moon, clear + as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?" +</p> + +<p>Now, if this be the prevailing characteristic of the two faculties, it +is evident that certain other collateral differences will result from +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p9">§ 9. Fancy is never serious</a></span>it. Fancy, as she stays at the externals, can +never feel. She is one of the hardest hearted of the intellectual +faculties, or rather one of the most purely and simply intellectual. She +cannot be made serious,<a name="FnAnchor_59" href="#Footnote_59"><sup>[59]</sup></a> no edge-tools but she will play with; +whereas the imagination is in all things the reverse. She cannot be but +serious; she sees too far, too darkly, too solemnly, too earnestly, ever +to smile. There is something in the heart of everything, if we can reach +it, that we shall not be inclined to laugh at. The <span class="grk" title="anźrithmon gelasma"> +ἀνήριθμον γέλασμα</span> +of the sea is on its surface, not in the deep.</p> + +<p>And thus there is reciprocal action between the intensity of moral +feeling and the power of imagination; for, on the one hand, those who +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p10">§ 10. Want of seriousness the bar to high art at the present time.</a></span>have +keenest sympathy are those who look closest and pierce deepest, and hold +securest; and, on the other, those who have so pierced and seen the +melancholy deeps of things, are filled with the most intense passion and +gentleness of sympathy. Hence, I suppose that the powers of the +imagination may always <span class="pagenum"><a name="page170"></a>[Page 170]</span> be tested by accompanying tenderness +of emotion, and thus, (as Byron said,) there is no tenderness like +Dante's, neither any intensity nor seriousness like his, such +seriousness that it is incapable of perceiving that which is commonplace +or ridiculous, but fuses all down into its white-hot fire; and, on the +other hand, I suppose the chief bar to the action of imagination, and +stop to all greatness in this present age of ours, is its mean and +shallow love of jest and jeer, so that if there be in any good and lofty +work a flaw or failing, or undipped vulnerable part where sarcasm may +stick or stay, it is caught at, and pointed at, and buzzed about, and +fixed upon, and stung into, as a recent wound is by flies, and nothing +is ever taken seriously nor as it was meant, but always, if it may be, +turned the wrong way, and misunderstood; and while this is so, there is +not, nor cannot be any hope of achievement of high things; men dare not +open their hearts to us, if we are to broil them on a thorn-fire.</p> + +<p>This, then, is one essential difference between imagination and fancy, +and another is like it and resultant from it, that the imagination being +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p11">§ 11. Imagination is quiet; fancy, restless.</a></span>at the heart of things, +poises herself there, and is still, quiet, and brooding; comprehending +all around her with her fixed look, but the fancy staying at the outside +of things, cannot see them all at once, but runs hither and thither, and +round and about to see more and more, bounding merrily from point to +point, and glittering here and there, but necessarily always settling, +if she settle at all, on a point only, never embracing the whole. And +from these single points she can strike out analogies and catch +resemblances, which, so far as the point she looks at is concerned, are +true, but would be false, if she could see through to the other side. +This, however, she cares not to do, the point of contact is enough for +her, and even if there be a gap left between the two things and they do +not quite touch, she will spring from one to the other like an electric +spark, and be seen brightest in her leaping.</p> + +<p>Now these differences between the imagination and the fancy hold, not +only in the way they lay hold of separate conceptions, but even in the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p12">§ 12. The detailing operation of fancy.</a></span>points they occupy of time, for +the fancy loves to run hither and thither <span class="pagenum"><a name="page171"></a>[Page 171]</span> in time, and to +follow long chains of circumstances from link to link; but the +imagination, if it may, gets holds of a moment or link in the middle +that implies all the rest, and fastens there. Hence Fuseli's aphorism, +"Invention never suffers the action to expire, nor the spectator's fancy +to consume itself in preparation, or stagnate into repose. It neither +begins from the egg, nor coldly gathers the remains."</p> + +<p>In Retsch's illustrations to Schiller's Kampf mit dem Drachen, we have +an instance, miserably feeble indeed, but characteristic, and suited to +our present purpose, of the detailing, finishing action of the fancy. +The dragon is drawn from head to tail, vulture eyes, serpent teeth, +forked tongue, fiery crest, armor, claws and coils as grisly as may be; +his den is drawn, and all the dead bones in it, and all the savage +forest-country about it far and wide; we have him from the beginning of +his career to the end, devouring, rampant, victorious over whole armies, +gorged with death; we are present at all the preparations for his +attack, see him receive his death-wound, and our anxieties are finally +becalmed by seeing him lie peaceably dead on his back.</p> + +<p>All the time we have never got into the dragon heart, we have never once +felt real pervading horror, nor sense of the creature's being; it is +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p13">§ 13. And suggestive, of the imagination.</a></span>throughout nothing but an ugly +composition of claw and scale. Now take up Turner's Jason, Liber +Studiorum, and observe how the imagination can concentrate all this, and +infinitely more, into one moment. No far forest country, no secret +paths, nor cloven hills, nothing but a gleam of pale horizontal sky, +that broods over pleasant places far away, and sends in, through the +wild overgrowth of the thicket, a ray of broken daylight into the +hopeless pit. No flaunting plumes nor brandished lances, but stern +purpose in the turn of the crestless helmet, visible victory in the +drawing back of the prepared right arm behind the steady point. No more +claws, nor teeth, nor manes, nor stinging tails. We have the dragon, +like everything else, by the middle. We need see no more of him. All his +horror is in that fearful, slow, grinding upheaval of the single coil. +Spark after spark of it, ring after ring, is sliding into the light, the +slow glitter steals along him step by step, broader <span class="pagenum"><a name="page172"></a>[Page 172]</span> and +broader, a lighting of funeral lamps one by one, quicker and quicker; a +moment more, and he is out upon us, all crash and blaze among those +broken trunks;—but he will be nothing then to what he is now.</p> + +<p>Now, it is necessary here very carefully to distinguish between that +character of the work which depends on the imagination of the beholder, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p14">§ 14. This suggestiveness how opposed to vacancy.</a></span>and that which results +from the imagination of the artist, for a work is often called +imaginative when it merely leaves room for the action of the +imagination; whereas though nearly all imaginative works do this, yet it +may be done also by works that have in them no imagination at all. A few +shapeless scratches or accidental stains on a wall; or the forms of +clouds, or any other complicated accidents, will set the imagination to +work to coin something out of them, and all paintings in which there is +much gloom or mystery, possess therein a certain sublimity owing to the +play given to the beholder's imagination, without, necessarily, being in +the slightest degree imaginative themselves. The vacancy of a truly +imaginative work results not from absence of ideas, or incapability of +grasping and detailing them, but from the painter having told the whole +pith and power of his subject and disdaining to tell more, and the sign +of this being the case is, that the imagination of the beholder is +forced to act in a certain mode, and feels itself overpowered and borne +away by that of the painter, and not able to defend itself, nor go which +way it will, and the value of the work depends on the truth, authority, +and inevitability of this suggestiveness, and on the absolute right +choice of the critical moment. Now observe in this work of Turner's, +that the whole value of it depends on the character of curve assumed by +the serpent's body; for had it been a mere semicircle, or gone down in a +series of smaller coils, it would have been in the first case, +ridiculous, as false and unlike a serpent, and in the second, +disgusting, nothing more than an exaggerated viper, but it is that +<i>coming straight</i> at the right hand which suggests the drawing forth of +an enormous weight, and gives the bent part its springing look, that +frightens us. Again, remove the light trunk<a name="FnAnchor_60" href="#Footnote_60"><sup>[60]</sup></a> on the left, and observe +how useless all the gloom of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page173"></a>[Page 173]</span> picture would have been, if +this trunk had not given it depth and <i>hollowness</i>. Finally and chiefly, +observe that the painter is not satisfied even with all the +suggestiveness thus obtained, but to make sure of us, and force us, +whether we will or no, to walk his way, and not ours, the trunks of the +trees on the right are all cloven into yawning and writhing heads and +bodies, and alive with dragon energy all about us, note especially the +nearest with its gaping jaws and claw-like branch at the seeming +shoulder; a kind of suggestion which in itself is not imaginative, but +merely fanciful, (using the term fancy in that third sense not yet +explained, corresponding to the third office of imagination;) but it is +imaginative in its present use and application, for the painter +addresses thereby that morbid and fearful condition of mind which he has +endeavored to excite in the spectator, and which in reality would have +seen in every trunk and bough, as it penetrated into the deeper thicket, +the object of its terror.</p> + +<p>It is nevertheless evident, that however suggestive the work or picture +may be, it cannot have effect unless we are ourselves both watchful of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p15">§ 15. Imagination addresses itself to imagination.</a></span>its very hint, and +capable of understanding and carrying it out, and although I think that +this power of continuing or accepting the direction of feeling given is +less a peculiar gift, like that of the original seizing, than a faculty +dependent on attention, and improvable by cultivation; yet, to a certain +extent, the imaginative work will not, I think, be rightly esteemed +except by a mind of some corresponding power; not but that there is an +intense enjoyment in minds of feeble yet light conception in the help +and food they get from those of stronger thought; but a certain +imaginative susceptibility is at any rate necessary, and above all +things, earnestness and feeling, so that assuredly a work of high +conceptive dignity will be always incomprehensible and valueless except +in those who go to it in earnest and give it time; and this is +peculiarly the case when the imagination acts not merely on the +immediate subject, nor in giving a fanciful and peculiar character to +prominent objects, as we have just seen, but <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p15a">Instances from the works of +Tintoret.</a></span>busies itself throughout in expressing occult and far-sought +sympathies in every minor detail, of which action the most sublime +instances are found in the works of Tintoret, whose intensity of +imagination is such that there is <span class="pagenum"><a name="page174"></a>[Page 174]</span> not the commonest subject +to which he will not attach a range of suggestiveness almost limitless, +nor a stone, leaf, or shadow, nor anything so small, but he will give it +meaning and oracular voice.</p> + +<p>In the centre of the gallery at Parma, there is a canvas of Tintoret's, +whose sublimity of conception and grandeur of color are seen in the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p16">§ 16. The Entombment.</a></span>highest perfection, by their opposition to the +morbid and vulgar sentimentalism of Correggio. It is an Entombment of +Christ, with a landscape distance, of whose technical composition and +details I shall have much to say hereafter, at present I speak only of +the thought it is intended to convey. An ordinary or unimaginative +painter would have made prominent, among his objects of landscape, such +as might naturally be supposed to have been visible from the sepulchre, +and shown with the crosses of Calvary, some portion of Jerusalem, or of +the Valley of Jehoshaphat. But Tintoret has a far higher aim. Dwelling +on the peculiar force of the event before him, as the fulfilment of the +final prophecy respecting the passion, "He made his grave with the +wicked and with the <i>rich</i> in his death," he desires to direct the mind +of the spectator to this receiving of the body of Christ, in its +contrast with the houseless birth and the desert life. And, therefore, +behind the ghastly tomb-grass that shakes its black and withered blades +above the rocks of the sepulchre, there is seen, not the actual material +distance of the spot itself, (though the crosses are shown faintly,) but +that to which the thoughtful spirit would return in vision, a desert +place, where the foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, +and against the barred twilight of the melancholy sky are seen the +mouldering beams and shattered roofing of a ruined cattle-shed, the +canopy of the nativity.</p> + +<p>Let us take another instance. No subject has been more frequently or +exquisitely treated by the religious painters than that of the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p17">§ 17. The +Annunciation.</a></span>Annunciation, though as usual, the most perfect type of its +pure ideal has been given by Angelico, and by him with the most radiant +consummation (so far as I know) in a small reliquary in the sacristy of +St<sup>a</sup>. Maria Novella. The background there, however, is altogether +decorative; but in the fresco of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page175"></a>[Page 175]</span> corridor of St. Mark's, +the concomitant circumstances are of exceeding loveliness. The Virgin +sits in an open loggia, resembling that of the Florentine church of +L'Annunziata. Before her is a meadow of rich herbage, covered with +daisies. Behind her is seen through the door at the end of the loggia, +her chamber with its single grated window, through which a star-like +beam of light falls into the silence. All is exquisite in feeling, but +not inventive nor imaginative. Severe would be the shock and painful the +contrast, if we could pass in an instant from that pure vision to the +wild thought of Tintoret. For not in meek reception of the adoring +messenger, but startled by the rush of his horizontal and rattling +wings, the virgin sits, not in the quiet loggia, not by the green +pasture of the restored soul, but houseless, under the shelter of a +palace vestibule ruined and abandoned, with the noise of the axe and the +hammer in her ears, and the tumult of a city round about her desolation. +The spectator turns away at first, revolted, from the central object of +the picture, forced painfully and coarsely forward, a mass of shattered +brickwork, with the plaster mildewed away from it, and the mortar +mouldering from its seams; and if he look again, either at this or at +the carpenter's tools beneath it, will perhaps see in the one and the +other, nothing more than such a study of scene as Tintoret could but too +easily obtain among the ruins of his own Venice, chosen to give a coarse +explanation of the calling and the condition of the husband of Mary. But +there is more meant than this. When he looks at the composition of the +picture, he will find the whole symmetry of it depending on a narrow +line of light, the edge of a carpenter's square, which connects these +unused tools with an object at the top of the brickwork, a white stone, +four square, the corner-stone of the old edifice, the base of its +supporting column. This, I think, sufficiently explains the typical +character of the whole. The ruined house is the Jewish dispensation, +that obscurely arising in the dawning of the sky is the Christian; but +the corner-stone of the old building remains, though the builder's tools +lie idle beside it, and the stone which the builders refused is become +the Headstone of the corner.</p> + +<p>In this picture, however, the force of the thought hardly atones for the +painfulness of the scene and the turbulence of its <span class="pagenum"><a name="page176"></a>[Page 176]</span> feeling. +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p18">§ 18. The Baptism of Christ. Its treatment by various painters.</a></span>The power +of the master is more strikingly shown in his treatment of a subject +which, however important, and however deep in its meaning, supplies not +to the ordinary painter material enough ever to form a picture of high +interest; the Baptism of Christ. From the purity of Giotto to the +intolerable, inconceivable brutality of Salvator,<a name="FnAnchor_61" href="#Footnote_61"><sup>[61]</sup></a> every order of +feeling has been displayed in its treatment; but I am aware of no single +case, except this of which I am about to speak, in which it has formed +an impressive picture.</p> + +<p>Giotto's, in the Academy of Florence, engraved in the series just +published, (Galleria delle belle Arti,) is one of the most touching I +know, especially in the reverent action of the attendant angels, and +Leonardo's angel in that of Andrea del Verrocchio is very beautiful, but +the event is one whose character and importance are ineffable upon the +features: the descending dove hardly affects us, because its constant +symbolical occurrence hardens us, and makes us look on it as a mere type +or letter, instead of the actual presence of the Spirit; and by all the +sacred painters the power that might be put into the landscape is lost, +for though their use of foliage and distant sky or mountain is usually +very admirable, as we shall see in the fifth chapter, yet they cannot +deal with near water or rock, and the hexagonal and basaltic +protuberances of their river shore are I think too painful to be endured +even by the most acceptant mind, as eminently in that of Angelico, in +the Vita di Christo, which, as far as I can judge, is a total failure in +action, expression, and all else; and in general it is in this subject +especially, that the greatest painters show their weakness. For this +reason, I suppose, and feeling the difficulty of it, Tintoret has thrown +into it his utmost strength, and it becomes noble in his hands <span class="pagenum"><a name="page177"></a>[Page +177]</span> by his most singularly imaginative expression, not only of the +immediate fact, but of the whole train of thought of which it is +suggestive; and by his considering the baptism not only as the +submission of Christ to the fulfilment of all righteousness, but as the +opening of the earthly struggle with the prince of the powers of the +air, which instantly beginning in the temptation, ended only on the +cross.</p> + +<p>The river flows fiercely under the shadow of a great rock. From its +opposite shore, thickets of close, gloomy foliage rise against the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p19">§ 19. +By Tintoret.</a></span>rolling chasm of heaven, through which breaks the brightness +of the descending Spirit. Across these, dividing them asunder, is +stretched a horizontal floor of flaky cloud, on which stand the hosts of +heaven. Christ kneels upon the water, and does not sink; the figure of +St. John is indistinct, but close beside his raised right arm there is a +spectre in the black shade; the fiend, harpy-shaped, hardly seen, glares +down upon Christ with eyes of fire, waiting his time. Beneath this +figure there comes out of the mist a dark hand, the arm unseen, extended +to a net in the river, the spars of which are in the shape of a cross. +Behinds this the roots and under stems of the trees are cut away by the +cloud, and beneath it, and through them, is seen a vision of wild, +melancholy, boundless light, the sweep of the desert, and the figure of +Christ is seen therein alone, with his arms lifted as in supplication or +ecstacy, borne of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the +devil.</p> + +<p>There are many circumstances which combine to give to this noble work a +more than usually imaginative character. The symbolical use of the net, +which is the cross net still used constantly in the canals of Venice, +and common throughout Italy, is of the same character as that of the +carpenter's tools in the Annunciation; but the introduction of the +spectral figure is of bolder reach, and yet more, that vision of the +after temptation which is expressly indicated as a subject of thought +rather than of sight, because it is in a part of the scene, which in +<i>fact</i> must have been occupied by the trunks of the trees whose tops are +seen above; and another circumstance completes the mystic character of +the whole, that the flaky clouds which support the angelic hosts take on +the right, where the light first falls upon <span class="pagenum"><a name="page178"></a>[Page 178]</span> them, the shape +of the head of a fish, the well-known type both of the baptismal +sacrament, and of Christ.</p> + +<p>But the most exquisite instance of this imaginative power occurs in an +incident in the background of the Crucifixion. I will not insult this +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p20">§ 20. The Crucifixion.</a></span>marvellous picture by an effort at a verbal +account of it. I would not whitewash it with praise, and I refer to it +only for the sake of two thoughts peculiarly illustrative of the +intellectual faculty immediately under discussion. In the common and +most catholic treatment of the subject, the mind is either painfully +directed to the bodily agony, coarsely expressed by outward anatomical +signs, or else it is permitted to rest on that countenance inconceivable +by man at any time, but chiefly so in this its consummated humiliation. +In the first case, the representation is revolting; in the second, +inefficient, false, and sometimes blasphemous. None even of the greatest +religious painters have ever, so far as I know, succeeded here; Giotto +and Angelico were cramped by the traditional treatment, and the latter +especially, as before observed, is but too apt to indulge in those +points of vitiated feeling which attained their worst development among +the Byzantines: Perugino fails in his Christ in almost every instance +(of other men than these after them we need not speak.) But Tintoret +here, as in all other cases, penetrating into the root and deep places +of his subject, despising all outward and bodily appearances of pain, +and seeking for some means of expressing, not the rack of nerve or +sinew, but the fainting of the deserted Son of God before his Eloi cry, +and yet feeling himself utterly unequal to the expression of this by the +countenance, has on the one hand filled his picture with such various +and impetuous muscular exertion that the body of the Crucified is, by +comparison, in perfect repose, and on the other has cast the countenance +altogether into shade. But the agony is told by this, and by this only, +that though there yet remains a chasm of light on the mountain horizon +where the earthquake darkness closes upon the day, the broad and sunlike +glory about the head of the Redeemer has become wan, and of the color +of ashes.<a name="FnAnchor_62" href="#Footnote_62"><sup>[62]</sup></a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page179"></a>[Page 179]</span></p> + +<p>But the great painter felt he had something more to do yet. Not only +that agony of the Crucified, but the tumult of the people, that rage +which invoked his blood upon them and their children. Not only the +brutality of the soldier, the apathy of the centurion, nor any other +merely instrumental cause of the Divine suffering, but the fury of his +own people, the noise against him of those for whom he died, were to be +set before the eye of the understanding, if the power of the picture was +to be complete. This rage, be it remembered, was one of disappointed +pride; and the disappointment dated essentially from the time, when but +five days before, the King of Zion came, and was received with +hosannahs, riding upon an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass. To this +time, then, it was necessary to direct the thoughts, for therein are +found both the cause and the character, the excitement of, and the +witness against, this madness of the people. In the shadow behind the +cross, a man, riding on an ass colt, looks back to the multitude, while +he points with a rod to the Christ crucified. The ass is feeding on the +<i>remnants</i> of <i>withered palm-leaves</i>.</p> + +<p>With this master-stroke I believe I may terminate all illustration of +the peculiar power of the imagination over the feelings of the +spectator, by the elevation into dignity and meaning of the smallest +accessory circumstances. But I have not yet sufficiently dwelt on the +fact from which this power arises, the absolute truth of statement of +the central fact as it was, or must have been. Without this truth, this +awful first moving principle, all direction of the feelings is useless. +That which we cannot excite, it is of no use to know how to govern.</p> + +<p>I have before alluded, Sect. I. Chap. XIV., to the painfulness of +Raffaelle's treatment of the massacre of the innocents. Fuseli affirms +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p21">§ 21. The Massacre of innocents.</a></span>of it that, "in dramatic gradation he +disclosed all the mother through every image of pity and of terror." If +this be so, I think the philosophical spirit has prevailed over the +imaginative. The imagination never errs, it sees all that is, and all +the relations and bearings of it, but it would not have confused the +mortal frenzy of maternal terror with various development of maternal +character. Fear, rage, and agony, at their utmost pitch, sweep away all +character: humanity itself would be lost in maternity, the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page180"></a>[Page 180]</span> +woman would become the mere personification of animal fury or fear. For +this reason all the ordinary representations of this subject are, I +think, false and cold: the artist has not heard the shrieks, nor mingled +with the fugitives, he has sat down in his study to twist features +methodically, and philosophize over insanity. Not so Tintoret. Knowing +or feeling, that the expression of the human face was in such +circumstances not to be rendered, and that the effort could only end in +an ugly falsehood, he denies himself all aid from the features, he feels +that if he is to place himself or us in the midst of that maddened +multitude, there can be no time allowed for watching expression. Still +less does he depend on details of murder or ghastliness of death; there +is no blood, no stabbing or cutting, but there is an awful substitute +for these in the chiaroscuro. The scene is the outer vestibule of a +palace, the slippery marble floor is fearfully barred across by sanguine +shadows, so that our eyes seem to become bloodshot and strained with +strange horror and deadly vision; a lake of life before them, like the +burning seen of the doomed Moabite on the water that came by the way of +Edom; a huge flight of stairs, without parapet, descends on the left; +down this rush a crowd of women mixed with the murderers; the child in +the arms of one has been seized by the limbs, she hurls herself over the +edge, and falls head downmost, dragging the child out of the grasp by +her weight;—she will be dashed dead in a second: two others are farther +in flight, they reach the edge of a deep river,—the water is beat into +a hollow by the force of their plunge;—close to us is the great +struggle, a heap of the mothers entangled in one mortal writhe with each +other and the swords, one of the murderers dashed down and crushed +beneath them, the sword of another caught by the blade and dragged at by +a woman's naked hand; the youngest and fairest of the women, her child +just torn away from a death grasp and clasped to her breast with the +grip of a steel vice, falls backwards helplessly over the heap, right on +the sword points; all knit together and hurled down in one hopeless, +frenzied, furious abandonment of body and soul in the effort to save. +Their shrieks ring in our ears till the marble seems rending around us, +but far back, at the bottom of the stairs, there is something in the +shadow like a heap of clothes. <span class="pagenum"><a name="page181"></a>[Page 181]</span> It is a woman, sitting +quiet,—quite quiet—still as any stone, she looks down steadfastly on +her dead child, laid along on the floor before her, and her hand is +pressed softly upon her brow.</p> + +<p>This, to my mind, is the only imaginative; that is, the only true, real, +heartfelt representation of the being and actuality of the subject in +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p22">§ 22. Various works in the Scuola di San Rocco.</a></span>existence.<a name="FnAnchor_63" href="#Footnote_63"><sup>[63]</sup></a> I should +exhaust the patience of the reader if I were to dwell at length on the +various stupendous developments of the imagination of Tintoret in the +Scuola di San Rocco alone. I would fain join a while in that solemn +pause of the journey into Egypt, where the silver boughs of the shadowy +trees lace with their tremulous lines the alternate folds of fair +clouds, flushed by faint crimson light, and lie across the streams of +blue between those rosy islands, like the white wakes of wandering +ships; or watch beside the sleep of the disciples among those massy +leaves that lie so heavily on the dead of the night beneath the descent +of the angel of the agony, and toss fearfully above the motion of the +torches as the troop of the betrayer emerges out of the hollows of the +olives; or wait through the hour of accusing beside the judgment seat of +Pilate, where all is unseen, unfelt, except the one figure that stands +with its head bowed down, pale like a pillar of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p23">§ 23. The Last Judgment. +How treated by various painters.</a></span>moonlight, half bathed in the glory of +the Godhead, half wrapt in the whiteness of the shroud. Of these and all +the other thoughts of indescribable power that are now fading from the +walls of those neglected chambers, I may perhaps endeavor at some future +time to preserve some image and shadow more faithfully than by words; +but I shall at present terminate our series of illustrations by +reference to a work of less touching, but more tremendous appeal, the +Last Judgment in the Church of Santa Maria dell' Orto. In this subject, +almost all realizing or local statement had been carefully avoided by +the most powerful painters, they judging it better to represent its +chief circumstances as generic thoughts, and present them to the mind in +a typical or abstract form. In the judgment of Angelico the treatment is +purely typical, a long Campo santo, composed of two lines of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page182"></a>[Page 182]</span> +graves, stretches away into the distance; on the left side of it rise +the condemned; on the right the just. With Giotto and Orcagna, the +conception, though less rigid, is equally typical, no effort being made +at the suggestion of space, and only so much ground represented as is +absolutely necessary to support the near figures and allow space for a +few graves. Michael Angelo in no respect differs in his treatment, +except that his figures are less symmetrically grouped, and a greater +conception of space is given by their various perspective. No interest +is attached to his background in itself. Fra Bartolomeo, never able to +grapple with any species of sublimity except that of simple religious +feeling, fails most signally in this mighty theme.<a name="FnAnchor_64" href="#Footnote_64"><sup>[64]</sup></a> His group of the +dead, including not more than ten or twelve figures, occupies the +foreground only, behind them a vacant plain extends to the foot of a +cindery volcano, about whose mouth several little black devils like +spiders are skipping and crawling. The judgment of quick and dead is +thus expressed as taking place in about a rood square, and on a dozen of +people at a time; the whole of the space and horizon of the sky and land +being left vacant, and the presence of the Judge of all the earth made +more finite than the sweep of a whirlwind or a thunder-storm.</p> + +<p>By Tintoret only has this unimaginable event been grappled with in its +verity; not typically nor symbolically, but as they may see it who shall +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p24">§ 24. By Tintoret.</a></span>not sleep, but be changed. Only one traditional +circumstance he has received with Dante and Michael Angelo, the boat of +the condemned; but the impetuosity of his mind bursts out even in the +adoption of this image, he has not stopped at the scowling ferryman of +the one, nor at the sweeping blow and demon dragging of the other, but, +seized Hylas-like by the limbs, and tearing up the earth in his agony, +the victim is dashed into his destruction; nor is it the sluggish Lethe, +nor the fiery lake that bears the cursed vessel, but the oceans of the +earth and the waters of the firmament gathered into one white, ghastly +cataract, the river of the wrath of God, roaring down into the gulf +where the world has melted with its fervent heat, choked with the ruin +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page183"></a>[Page 183]</span> of nations, and the limbs of its corpses tossed out of its +whirling, like water-wheels. Bat like, out of the holes and caverns and +shadows of the earth, the bones gather, and the clay-heaps heave, +rattling and adhering into half-kneaded anatomies, that crawl, and +startle, and struggle up among the putrid weeds, with the clay clinging +to their clotted hair, and their heavy eyes sealed by the earth darkness +yet, like his of old who went his way unseeing to Siloam Pool; shaking +off one by one the dreams of the prison-house, hardly hearing the +clangor of the trumpets of the armies of God, blinded yet more, as they +awake, by the white light of the new Heaven, until the great vortex of +the four winds bears up their bodies to the judgment seat: the firmament +is all full of them, a very dust of human souls, that drifts, and +floats, and falls in the interminable, inevitable light; the bright +clouds are darkened with them as with thick snow, currents of atom life +in the arteries of heaven, now soaring up slowly, farther, and higher, +and higher still, till the eye and the thought can follow no farther, +borne up, wingless, by their inward faith and by the angel powers +invisible, now hurled in countless drifts of horror before the breath of +their condemnation.</p> + +<p>Now, I wish the reader particularly to observe throughout all these +works of Tintoret, the distinction of the imaginative verity from <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p25">§ 25. +The imaginative verity, how distinguished from realism.</a></span>falsehood on the +one hand, and from realism on the other. The power of every picture +depends on the penetration of the imagination into the <span class="sc">TRUE</span> nature of +the thing represented, and on the utter scorn of the imagination for all +shackles and fetters of mere external fact that stand in the way of its +suggestiveness. In the Baptism it cuts away the trunks of trees as if +they were so much cloud or vapor, that it may exhibit to the thought the +completed sequency of the scene;<a name="FnAnchor_65" href="#Footnote_65"><sup>[65]</sup></a> in the Massacre, it covers the +marble floor with visionary light, that it may strike terror into the +spectator without condescending to butchery; it defies the bare fact, +but creates in him the fearful feeling; in the Crucifixion it +annihilates locality, and brings the palm-leaves to Calvary, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page184"></a>[Page 184]</span> +so only that it may bear the mind to the mount of Olives, as in the +entombment it brings the manger to Jerusalem, that it may take the heart +to Bethlehem; and all this it does in the daring consciousness of its +higher and spiritual verity, and in the entire knowledge of the fact and +substance of all that it touches. The imaginary boat of the demon angel +expands the rush of the visible river into the descent of irresistible +condemnation; but to make that rush and roar felt by the eye and heard +by the ear, the rending of the pine branches above the cataract is taken +directly from nature; it is an abstract of Alpine storm. Hence while we +are always placed face to face with whatever is to be told, there is in +and beyond its reality a voice supernatural; and that which is doubtful +in the vision has strength, sinew, and assuredness, built up in it by +fact.</p> + +<p>Let us, however, still advance one step farther, and observe the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p26">§ 26. +The imagination how manifested in sculpture.</a></span>imaginative power deprived +of all aid from chiaroscuro, color, or any other means of concealing the +frame-work of its thoughts.</p> + +<p>It was said by Michael Angelo that "non ha l'ottimo scultore alcun +concetto, Ch'un marmo solo in se non circoscriva," a sentence which, +though in the immediate sense intended by the writer it may remind us a +little of the indignation of Boileau's Pluto, "Il s'ensuit de la que +tout ce qui se peut dire de beau, est dans les dictionnaires,—il n'y a +que les paroles qui sont transposées," yet is valuable, because it shows +us that Michael Angelo held the imagination to be entirely expressible +in rock, and therefore altogether independent, in its own nature, of +those aids of color and shade by which it is recommended in Tintoret, +though the sphere of its operation is of course by these incalculably +extended. But the presence of the imagination may be rendered in marble +as deep, thrilling, and awful as in painting, so that the sculptor seek +for the soul and govern the body thereby.</p> + +<p>Of unimaginative work, Bandinelli and Canova supply us with +characteristic instances of every kind, the Hercules and Cacus of the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p27">§ 27. Bandinelli, Canova, Mino da Fiesole.</a></span>former, and its criticism by +Cellini, will occur at once to every one; the disgusting statue now +placed so as to conceal Giotto's important tempera picture in Santa +Croce is a better instance, but a <span class="pagenum"><a name="page185"></a>[Page 185]</span> still more impressive +lesson might be received by comparing the inanity of Canova's garland +grace, and ball-room sentiment with the intense truth, tenderness, and +power of men like Mino da Fiesole, whose chisel leaves many a hard edge, +and despises down and dimple, but it seems to cut light and carve +breath, the marble burns beneath it, and becomes transparent with very +spirit. Yet Mino stopped at the human nature; he saw the soul, but not +the ghostly presences about it; it was reserved for Michael Angelo to +pierce deeper yet, and to see the indwelling angels. No man's soul is +alone: Laocoon or Tobit, the serpent has it by the heart or the angel by +the hand, the light or the fear of the spiritual things that move beside +it may be seen on the body; and that bodily form with Buonaroti, white, +solid, distinct material, though it be, is invariably felt as the +instrument or the habitation of some <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p28">§ 28. Michael Angelo.</a></span>infinite, +invisible power. The earth of the Sistine Adam that begins to burn; the +woman embodied burst of adoration from his sleep; the twelve great +torrents of the Spirit of God that pause above us there, urned in their +vessels of clay; the waiting in the shadow of futurity of those through +whom the promise and presence of God went down from the Eve to the Mary, +each still and fixed, fixed in his expectation, silent, foreseeing, +faithful, seated each on his stony throne, the building stones of the +word of God, building on and on, tier by tier, to the Refused one, the +head of the corner; not only these, not only the troops of terror torn +up from the earth by the four quartered winds of the Judgment, but every +fragment and atom of stone that he ever touched became instantly +inhabited by what makes the hair stand up and the words be few; the St. +Matthew, not yet disengaged from his sepulchre, bound hand and foot by +his grave clothes, it is left for us to loose him; the strange spectral +wreath of the Florence Pieta, casting its pyramidal, distorted shadow, +full of pain and death, among the faint purple lights that cross and +perish under the obscure dome of St<sup>a</sup>. Maria del Fiore, the white +lassitude of joyous limbs, panther like, yet passive, fainting with +their own delight, that gleam among the Pagan formalisms of the Uffizii, +far away, showing themselves in their lustrous lightness as the waves of +an Alpine torrent do by their dancing among the dead <span class="pagenum"><a name="page186"></a>[Page 186]</span> stones, +though the stones be as white as they:<a name="FnAnchor_66" href="#Footnote_66"><sup>[66]</sup></a> and finally, and perhaps more +than all, those four ineffable types, not of darkness nor of day—not of +morning nor evening, but of the departure and the resurrection, the +twilight and the dawn of the souls of men—together with the spectre +sitting in the shadow of the niche above them;<a name="FnAnchor_67" href="#Footnote_67"><sup>[67]</sup></a> all these, and all +else that I could name of his forming, have borne, and in themselves +retain and exercise the same inexplicable power—inexplicable because +proceeding from an imaginative perception almost superhuman, which goes +whither we cannot follow, and is where we cannot come; <span class="pagenum"><a name="page187"></a>[Page 187]</span> +throwing naked the final, deepest root of the being of man, whereby he +grows out of the invisible, and holds on his God home.<a name="FnAnchor_68" href="#Footnote_68"><sup>[68]</sup></a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page188"></a>[Page 188]</span></p> + +<p>Now, in all these instances, let it be observed, for it is to that end +alone that I have been arguing all along, that the virtue of the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p29">§ 29. +Recapitulation. The perfect function of the imagination is the intuitive +perception of ultimate truth.</a></span>imagination is its reaching, by intuition +and intensity of gaze, (not by reasoning, but by its authoritative +opening and revealing power,) a more essential truth than is seen at the +surface of things. I repeat that it matters not whether the reader is +willing call this faculty imagination or no, I do not care about the +name; but I would be understood when I speak of imagination hereafter, +to mean this, the true foundation of all art which exercises eternal +authority over men's minds; (all other imagination than this is either +secondary and contemplative, or utterly spurious;) the base of whose +authority and being <span class="pagenum"><a name="page189"></a>[Page 189]</span> is its perpetual thirst of truth and +purpose to be true. It has no food, no delight, no care, no perception, +except of truth; it is forever looking under masks, and burning up +mists; no fairness of form, no majesty of seeming will satisfy it; the +first condition of its existence is incapability of being deceived; and +though it sometimes dwells upon and substantiates the fictions of fancy, +yet its own operation is to trace to their farthest limit the true laws +and likelihoods even of the fictitious creation. This has been well +explained by Fuseli, in his allusion to the Centaur of Zeuxis; and there +is not perhaps a greater exertion of imaginative power than may be +manifested in following out to their farthest limits the necessary +consequences of such arbitrary combination; but let not the jests of the +fancy be confounded <span class="pagenum"><a name="page190"></a>[Page 190]</span> with that after serious work of the +imagination which gives them all the nervous verity and substance of +which they are capable. Let not the monsters of Chinese earthenware be +confounded with the Faun, Satyr, or Centaur.</p> + +<p>How different this definition of the imagination may be from the idea of +it commonly entertained among us, I can hardly say, because I have a +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p30">§ 30. Imagination now vulgarly understood.</a></span>very indistinct idea of what +is usually meant by the term. I hear modern works constantly praised as +being imaginative, in which I can trace no virtue of any kind; but +simple, slavish, unpalliated falsehood and exaggeration; I see not what +merit there can be in pure, ugly, resolute fiction; it is surely easy +enough to be wrong; there are many ways of being unlike nature. I +understand not what virtue that is which entitles one of these ways to +be called imaginative, rather than another; and I am still farther +embarrassed by hearing the portions of those works called especially +imaginative in which there is the most effort at minute and mechanical +statement of contemptible details, and in which the artist would have +been as actual and absolute in imitation as an echo, if he had known +how. Against convictions which I do not understand, I cannot argue; but +I may warn the artist that imagination of this strange kind, is not +capable of bearing the time test; nothing of its doing ever has +continued its influence over men; and if he desires to take place among +the great men of older time, there is but one way for it; and one kind +of imagination that will stand the immortal light: I know not how far it +is by effort cultivable; but we have evidence enough before us to show +in what direction that effort must be made.</p> + +<p>We have seen (§ 10) that the imagination is in no small degree dependent +on acuteness of moral emotion; in fact, all moral truth can <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p31">§ 31. How +its cultivation is dependent on the moral feelings.</a></span>only thus be +apprehended—and it is observable, generally, that all true and deep +emotion is imaginative, both in conception and expression; and that the +mental sight becomes sharper with every full beat of the heart; and, +therefore, all egotism, and selfish care, or regard, are in proportion +to their constancy, destructive of imagination; whose play and power +depend altogether on our <span class="pagenum"><a name="page191"></a>[Page 191]</span> being able to forget ourselves and +enter like possessing spirits into the bodies of things about us.</p> + +<p>Again, as the life of imagination is in the discovering of truth, it is +clear it can have no respect for sayings or opinions: knowing in itself +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p32">§ 32. On independence of mind.</a></span>when it has invented truly—restless and +tormented except when it has this knowledge, its sense of success or +failure is too acute to be affected by praise or blame. Sympathy it +desires—but can do without; of opinions it is regardless, not in pride, +but because it has no vanity, and is conscious of a rule of action and +object of aim in which it cannot be mistaken; partly, also, in pure +energy of desire and longing to do and to invent more and more, which +suffer it not to suck the sweetness of praise—unless a little, with the +end of the rod in its hand, and without pausing in its march. It goes +straight forward up the hill; no voices nor mutterings can turn it back, +nor petrify it from its purpose.<a name="FnAnchor_69" href="#Footnote_69"><sup>[69]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Finally, it is evident, that like the theoretic faculty, the imagination +must be fed constantly by external nature—after the illustrations we +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c3p33">§ 33. And on habitual reference to nature.</a></span>have given, this may seem mere +truism, for it is clear that to the exercise of the penetrative faculty +a subject of penetration is necessary; but I note it because many +painters of powerful mind have been lost to the world by their suffering +the restless writhing of their imagination in its cage to take place of +its healthy and exulting activity in the fields of nature. The most +imaginative men always study the hardest, and are the most thirsty for +new knowledge. Fancy plays like a squirrel in its circular prison, and +is happy; but imagination is a pilgrim on the earth—and her home is in +heaven. Shut her from the fields of the celestial mountains—bar her +from breathing their lofty, sun-warmed air; and we may as well turn upon +her the last bolt of the tower of famine, and give the keys to the +keeping of the wildest surge that washes Capraja and Gorgona.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_56" href="#FnAnchor_56">[56]</a> Compare Arist. Rhet. III. 11.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_57" href="#FnAnchor_57">[57]</a> For the distinction between fancy and simple conception; see <a href="#s2c4p3">Chap. +IV. § 3</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_58" href="#FnAnchor_58">[58]</a> I take this and the next instance from Leigh Hunt's admirable piece +of criticism, "Imagination and Fancy," which ought to be read with care, +and to which, though somewhat loosely arranged, I may refer for all the +filling up and illustration that the subject requires. With respect to +what has just been said respecting want of imagination, compare his +criticism of Addison's Cato, p. 28. I cannot, however, confirm his +judgment, nor admit his selection of instances, among painters: he has +looked to their manner only and habitual choice of subject, without +feeling their power; and has given work to the coarseness, mindlessness, +and eclecticism of Guido and the Carracci, which in its poetical demand +of tenderness might have foiled Pinturicchio; of dignity, Leonardo; and +of color, Giorgione.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_59" href="#FnAnchor_59">[59]</a> Fancy, in her third function may, however, become serious, and +gradually rise into imagination in doing so. Compare <a href="#s2c4p5">Chap. IV. § 5</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_60" href="#FnAnchor_60">[60]</a> I am describing from a proof: in bad impressions this trunk is +darkened.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_61" href="#FnAnchor_61">[61]</a> The picture is in the Guadagni palace. It is one of the most +important landscapes Salvator ever painted. The figures are studied from +street beggars. On the one side of the river, exactly opposite the point +where the Baptism of Christ takes place, the painter, with a refinement +of feeling peculiarly his own, has introduced some ruffians stripping +off their shirts to bathe. He is fond of this incident. It occurs again +in one of the marines of the Pitti palace, with the additional interest +of a foreshortened figure, swimming on its back, feet foremost, exactly +in the stream of light to which the eye is principally directed.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_62" href="#FnAnchor_62">[62]</a> This circumstance, like most that lie not at the surface, has +escaped Fuseli, though his remarks on the general tone of the picture +are very good, as well as his opposition of it to the treatment of +Rubens. (Lecture IX.)</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_63" href="#FnAnchor_63">[63]</a> Note the shallow and uncomprehending notice of this picture by +Fuseli. His description of the treatment of it by other painters is +however true, terse, and valuable.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_64" href="#FnAnchor_64">[64]</a> Fresco in an out-house of the Ospedale St<sup>a</sup>. Maria Nuova at +Florence.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_65" href="#FnAnchor_65">[65]</a> The same thing is done yet more boldly in the large composition of +the ceiling; the plague of fiery serpents; a part of the host, and +another sky horizon are seen through an opening in the ground.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_66" href="#FnAnchor_66">[66]</a> The Bacchus. There is a small statue opposite it also—unfinished, +but "a spirit still."</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_67" href="#FnAnchor_67">[67]</a> I would have insisted more on the ghostly vitality of this dreadful +statue; but the passage referring to it in Rogers's Italy supersedes all +further description. I suppose most lovers of art know it by heart.</p> + +<p class="poemq"> + <span style="padding-left: 1.5em; ">"Nor then forget that chamber of the dead, <br /></span> + Where the gigantic shapes of Night and Day, <br /> + Turned into stone, rest everlastingly; <br /> + Yet still are breathing, and shed round at noon <br /> + A twofold influence,—only to be felt— <br /> + A light, a darkness, mingling each with each; <br /> + Both, and yet neither. There, from age to age, <br /> + Two ghosts are sitting on their sepulchres. <br /> + That is the Duke Lorenzo. Mark him well. <br /> + He meditates, his head upon his hand. <br /> + What from beneath his helm-like bonnet scowls? <br /> + Is it a face, or but an eyeless skull? <br /> + 'Tis lost in shade; yet, like the basilisk, <br /> + It fascinates, and is intolerable. <br /> + His mien is noble, most majestical! <br /> + Then most so, when the distant choir is heard <br /> + At morn or eve—nor fail thou to attend <br /> + On that thrice-hallowed day, when all are there; <br /> + When all, propitiating with solemn songs, <br /> + Visit the Dead. Then wilt thou feel his power!" <br /> +</p> + +<p>It is strange that this should be the only written instance (as far as I +recollect) of just and entire appreciation of Michael Angelo's spiritual +power. It is perhaps owing to the very intensity of his imagination that +he has been so little understood—for, as I before said, imagination can +never be met by vanity, nor without earnestness. His Florentine +followers saw in him an anatomist and posture-master—and art was +finally destroyed by the influence over admiring idiocy of the greatest +mind that art ever inspired.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_68" href="#FnAnchor_68">[68]</a> I have not chosen to interrupt the argument respecting the essence +of the imaginative faculty by any remarks on the execution of the +imaginative hand; but we can hardly leave Tintoret and Michael Angelo +without some notice of the pre-eminent power of execution exhibited by +both of them, in consequence of their vigor and clearness of conception; +nor without again warning the lower artist from confounding this +velocity of decision and impatience with the velocity of affectation or +indolence. Every result of real imagination we have seen to be a truth +of some sort; and it is the characteristic of truth to be in some way +tangible, seizable, distinguishable, and clear, as it is of falsehood to +be obscure, confused, and confusing. Not but that many, if not most +truths have a dark side, a side by which they are connected with +mysteries too high for us,—nay, I think it is commonly but a poor and +miserable truth which the human mind can walk all round, but at all +events they have one side by which we can lay hold of them, and feel +that they are downright adamant, and that their form, though lost in +cloud here and there, is unalterable and real, and not less real and +rocky because infinite, and joined on, St. Michael's mount-like to a far +mainland. So then, whatever the real imagination lays hold of, as it is +a truth, does not alter into anything else as the imaginative part works +at it and feels over it and finds out more of it, but comes out more and +more continually, all that is found out pointing to and indicating still +more behind, and giving additional stability and reality to that which +is discovered already. But if it be fancy or any other form of +pseudo-imagination which is at work, then that which it gets hold of may +not be a truth, but only an idea, which will keep giving way as soon as +we try to take hold of it and turning into something else, so that as we +go on copying it, every part will be inconsistent with all that has gone +before, and at intervals it will vanish altogether, and leave blanks +which must be filled up by any means at hand. And in these +circumstances, the painter, unable to seize his thought, because it has +not substance nor bone enough to bear grasping, is liable to catch at +every line that he lays down, for help and suggestion, and to be led +away by it to something else, which the first effort to realize +dissipates in like manner, placing another phantom in its stead, until +out of the fragments of these successive phantoms he has glued together +a vague, mindless, involuntary whole, a mixture of all that was trite or +common in each of the successive conceptions, for that is necessarily +what is first caught a heap of things with the bloom off and the chill +on, laborious, unnatural, inane, with its emptiness disguised by +affectation, and its tastelessness salted by extravagance.</p> + +<p>Necessarily, from these modes of conception, three vices of execution +must result; and these are necessarily found in all those parts of the +work where any trust has been put in conception, and only to be avoided +in portions of actual portraiture (for a thoroughly unimaginative +painter can make no use of a study—all his studies are guesses and +experiments, all are equally wrong, and so far felt to be wrong by +himself, that he will not work by any of them, but will always endeavor +to improve upon them in the picture, and so lose the use of them). These +three vices of execution are then—first, feebleness of handling, owing +to uncertainty of intention; secondly, intentional carelessness of +handling, in the hope of getting by accident something more than was +meant; and lastly, violence and haste of handling, in the effort to +secure as much as possible of the obscure image of which the mind feels +itself losing hold. (I am throughout, it will be observed, attributing +right feeling to the unimaginative painter; if he lack this, his +execution may be cool and determined, as he will set down falsehood +without blushing, and ugliness without suffering.) Added to these +various evidences of weakness, will be the various vices assumed for the +sake of concealment; morbid refinements disguising feebleness—or +insolence and coarseness to cover desperation. When the imagination is +powerful, the resulting execution is of course the contrary of all this: +its first steps will commonly be impetuous, in clearing its ground and +getting at its first conception—as we know of Michael Angelo in his +smiting his blocks into shape, (see the passage quoted by Sir Charles +Clarke in the Essay on Expression, from Blaise de Vigenere,) and as it +is visible in the handling of Tintoret always: as the work approaches +completion, the stroke, while it remains certain and firm, because its +end is always known, may frequently become slow and careful, both on +account of the difficulty of following the pure lines of the conception, +and because there is no fear felt of the conception's vanishing before +it can be realized; but generally there is a certain degree of +impetuosity visible in the works of all the men of high imagination, +when they are not working from a study, showing itself in Michael Angelo +by the number of blocks he left unfinished, and by some slight evidences +in those he completed of his having worked painfully towards the close; +so that, except the Duke Lorenzo, the Bacchus of the Florentine gallery, +and the Pieta of Genoa, I know not any of his finished works in which +his mind is as mightily expressed as in his marble sketches; only, it is +always to be observed that impetuosity or rudeness of hand is not +necessarily—and, if imaginative, is never—carelessness. In the two +landscapes at the end of the Scuola di San Rocco, Tintoret has drawn +several large tree trunks with two strokes of his brush—one for the +dark, and another for the light side; and the large rock at the foot of +the picture of the Temptation is painted with a few detached touches of +gray over a flat brown ground; but the touches of the tree-trunks have +been followed by the mind as they went down with the most painful +intensity through their every undulation; and the few gray strokes on +the stone are so considered that a better stone cone could not be +painted if we took a month to it: and I suppose, generally, it would be +utterly impossible to give an example of execution in which less was +left to accident, or in which more care was concentrated in every +stroke, than the seemingly regardless and impetuous handling of this +painter.</p> + +<p>On the habit of both Tintoret and Michael Angelo to work straight +forward from the block and on the canvas, without study or model, it is +needless to insist; for though this is one of the most amazing proofs of +their imaginative power, it is a dangerous precedent. No mode of +execution ought ever to be taught to a young artist as better than +another; he ought to understand the truth of what he has to do, +felicitous execution will follow as a matter of course; and if he feels +himself capable of getting at the right at once, he will naturally do so +without reference to precedent. He ought to hold always that his duty is +to attain the highest result he can,—but that no one has any business +with the means or time he has taken. If it can be done quickly, let it +be so done; if not, let it be done at any rate. For knowing his way he +is answerable, and therefore must not walk <i>doubtingly</i>; but no one can +blame him for walking <i>cautiously</i>, if the way be a narrow one, with a +slip on each side. He may pause, but he must not hesitate,—and tremble, +but must not vacillate.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_69" href="#FnAnchor_69">[69]</a> That which we know of the lives of M. Angelo and Tintoret is +eminently illustrative of this temper.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page192"></a>[Page 192]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<h5>OF IMAGINATION CONTEMPLATIVE.</h5> + +<p>We have, in the two preceding chapters, arrived at definite conclusions +respecting the power and essence of the imaginative faculty. In these +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p1">§ 1. Imagination contemplative is not part of the essence, but only a +habit or mode of the faculty.</a></span>two acts of penetration and combination, +its separating and characteristic attributes are entirely developed; it +remains for us only to observe a certain habit or mode of operation in +which it frequently delights, and by which it addresses itself to our +perceptions more forcibly, and asserts its presence more distinctly than +in those mighty but more secret workings wherein its life consists.</p> + +<p>In our examination of the combining imagination, we chose to assume the +first or simple conception to be as clear in the absence as in the +presence of the object of it. This, I suppose, is in point of fact never +the case, nor is an approximation to such distinctness of conception +always a characteristic of the imaginative mind. Many persons have +thorough and felicitous power of drawing from memory, yet never +originate a thought, nor excite an emotion.</p> + +<p>The form in which conception actually occurs to ordinary minds appears +to derive value and preciousness from that indefiniteness which we <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p2">§ 2. +The ambiguity of conception.</a></span>alluded to in the second chapter, (§ 2,) for +there is an unfailing charm in the memory and anticipation of things +beautiful, more sunny and spiritual than attaches to their presence; for +with their presence it is possible to be sated, and even wearied, but +with the imagination of them never; in so far that it needs some +self-discipline to prevent the mind from falling into a morbid condition +of dissatisfaction with all that it immediately possesses, and continual +longing for things absent; and yet I think this charm is not justly to +be attributed to the mere vagueness and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page193"></a>[Page 193]</span> uncertainty of the +conception, except thus far, that of objects whose substantial presence +was ugly or painful the sublimity and impressiveness, if there were any, +is retained in the conception, while the sensual offensiveness is +withdrawn; thus circumstances of horror may be safely touched in verbal +description, and for a time dwelt upon by the mind, as often by Homer +and Spenser, (by the latter frequently with too much grossness, as in +the description of the combat of the Red-Cross Knight with Errour,) +which could not for a moment be regarded or tolerated in their reality, +or on canvas; and besides this mellowing and softening operation on +those it retains, the conceptive faculty has the power of letting go +many of them altogether out of its groups of ideas, and retaining only +those where the meminisse juvabit will apply; and in this way the +entire group of memories becomes <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p3">§ 3. Is not in itself capable of adding +to the charm of fair things.</a></span>altogether delightful; but of those parts of +anything which are in themselves beautiful, I think the indistinctness +no benefit, but that the brighter they are the better; and that the +peculiar charm we feel in conception results from its grasp and blending +of ideas rather than from their obscurity, for we do not usually recall, +as we have seen, one part at a time only of a pleasant scene, one moment +only of a happy day; but together with each single object we summon up a +kind of crowded and involved shadowing forth of all the other glories +with which it was associated, and into every moment we concentrate an +epitome of the day; and it will happen frequently that even when the +visible objects or actual circumstances are not in numbers remembered; +yet the feeling and joy of them is obtained we know not how or whence, +and so with a kind of conceptive burning glass we bend the sunshine of +all the day, and the fulness of all the scene upon every point that we +successively seize; and this together with more vivid action of fancy, +for I think that the wilful and playful seizure of the points that suit +her purpose and help her springing, whereby she is distinguished from +simple conception, takes place more easily and actively with the memory +of things than in presence of them. But, however this be, and I confess +that there is much that I cannot satisfactorily to myself unravel with +respect to the nature of simple conception; it is evident that this +agreeableness, whatever it be, is not by art attainable, for <span class="pagenum"><a name="page194"></a>[Page 194]</span> +all art is in some sort realization; it may be the realization of +obscurity or indefiniteness, but still it must differ from the mere +conception of obscurity and indefiniteness; so that whatever emotions +depend absolutely on imperfectness of conception, as the horror of +Milton's Death, cannot be rendered by art, for art can only lay hold of +things which have shape, and destroys by its touch the fearfulness or +pleasurableness of those which shape have none.</p> + +<p>But on this indistinctness of conception, itself comparatively valueless +and unaffecting, is based the operation of the imaginative faculty with +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p4">§ 4. But gives to the imagination its regardant power over them.</a></span>which we +are at present concerned, and in which its glory is consummated: +whereby, depriving the subject of material and bodily shape, and +regarding such of its qualities only as it chooses for particular +purpose, it forges these qualities together in such groups and forms as +it desires, and gives to their abstract being consistency and reality, +by striking them as it were with the die of an image belonging to other +matter, which stroke having once received, they pass current at once in +the peculiar conjunction and for the peculiar value desired.</p> + +<p>Thus, in the description of Satan quoted in the first chapter, "And +like a comet burned," the bodily shape of the angel is destroyed, the +inflaming of the formless spirit is alone regarded; and this, and his +power of evil associated in one fearful and abstract conception are +stamped to give them distinctness and permanence with the image of the +comet, "that fires the length of Ophiuchus huge." Yet this could not be +done, but that the image of the comet itself is in a measure indistinct, +capable of awful expansion, and full of threatening and fear. Again, in +his fall, the imagination binds up the thunder, the resistance, the +massy prostration, separates them from the external form, and binds them +together by the help of that image of the mountain half sunk; which +again would be unfit but for its own indistinctness, and for that +glorious addition "with all his pines," whereby a vitality and +spear-like hostility are communicated to its falling form, and the fall +is marked as not utter subversion, but sinking only, the pines remaining +in their uprightness, and unity, and threatening of darkness upon the +descended precipice: and again in that yet more noble passage at the +close of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page195"></a>[Page 195]</span> the fourth book, where almost every operation of the +contemplative imagination is concentrated; the angelic squadron first +gathered into one burning mass by the single expression "sharpening in +mooned horns," then told out in their unity and multitude and stooped +hostility, by the image of the wind upon the corn; Satan endowed with +godlike strength and endurance in that mighty line, "like Teneriffe or +Atlas, unremoved," with infinitude of size the next instant, and with +all the vagueness and terribleness of spiritual power, by the "horror +plumed," and the "<i>what seemed</i> both spear and shield."</p> + +<p>The third function of fancy, already spoken of as subordinate to this of +the imagination, is the highest of which she is capable; like the <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p5">§ 5. +The third office of fancy distinguished from imagination +contemplative.</a></span>imagination, she beholds in the things submitted to her +treatment things different from the actual; but the suggestions she +follows are not in their nature essential in the object contemplated; +and the images resulting, instead of illustrating, may lead the mind +away from it, and change the current of contemplative feeling; for as in +her operation parallel to imagination penetrative, we saw her dwelling +upon external features, while the nobler sister, faculty, entered +within, so now, when both, from what they see and know in their +immediate object, are conjuring up images illustrative or elevatory of +it, the fancy necessarily summons those of mere external relationship, +and therefore of unaffecting influence; while the imagination, by every +ghost she raises, tells tales about the prison-house, and therefore +never loses her power over the heart, nor her unity of emotion. On the +other hand, the regardant or contemplative action of fancy is in this +different from, and in this nobler, than that mere seizing and +likeness-catching operation we saw in her before; that when +contemplative, she verily believes in the truth of the vision she has +summoned, loses sight of actuality, and beholds the new and spiritual +image faithfully and even seriously; whereas before, she summoned no +spiritual image, but merely caught the vivid actuality, or the curious +resemblance of the real object; not that these two operations are +separate, for the fancy passes gradually from mere vivid right of +reality, and witty suggestion of likeness, to a ghostly sight of what is +unreal; and through this, in proportion as she begins to feel, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page196"></a>[Page +196]</span> she rises towards and partakes of imagination itself, for +imagination and fancy are continually united, and it is necessary, when +they are so, carefully to distinguish the feelingless part which is +fancy's, from the sentient part, which is imagination's. Let us take a +few instances. Here is fancy, first, very beautiful, in her simple +capacity of likeness-catching:—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "To-day we purpose—aye, this hour we mount <br /> + To spur three leagues towards the Apennine. <br /> + Come down, we pray thee, ere the <i>hot sun count <br /> + His dewy rosary</i> on the eglantine." +</p> + +<p class="noind">Seizing on the outside resemblances of bead form, and on the slipping +from their threading bough one by one, the fancy is content to lose the +heart of the thing, the solemnity of prayer: or perhaps I do the +glorious poet wrong in saying this, for the sense of a sun worship and +orison in beginning its race, may have been in his mind; and so far as +it was so, the passage is imaginative and not fanciful. But that which +most readers would accept from it, is the mere flash of the external +image, in whose truth the fancy herself does not yet believe and +therefore is not yet contemplative. Here, however, is fancy believing in +the images she creates:—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "It feeds the quick growth of the serpent-vine, <br /> + And the dark linked ivy tangling wild <br /> + And budding, blown, or odor faded blooms, <br /> + Which <i>star the winds with points of colored light</i> <br /> + As they rain through them; and <i>bright golden globes <br /> + Of fruit suspended in their own green heaven</i>." +</p> + +<p>It is not, observe, a mere likeness that is caught here; but the flowers +and fruit are entirely deprived by the fancy of their material +existence, and contemplated by her seriously and faithfully as stars and +worlds; yet it is only external likeness that she catches; she forces +the resemblance, and lowers the dignity of the adopted image.</p> + +<p>Next take two delicious stanzas of fancy regardant, (believing in her +creations,) followed by one of heavenly imagination, from Wordsworth's +address to the daisy:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page197"></a>[Page 197]</span></p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "A Nun demure—of lowly port; <br /> + Or sprightly maiden—of Love's court, <br /> + In thy simplicity the sport <br /> + Of all temptations. <br /> + A Queen in crown of rubies drest, <br /> + A starveling in a scanty vest, <br /> + Are all as seems to suit thee best,— <br /> + Thy appellations. <br /> <br /> + + I see thee glittering from afar, <br /> + And then thou art a pretty star,— <br /> + Not quite so fair as many are <br /> + In heaven above thee. <br /> + Yet like a star, with glittering crest, <br /> + Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest;— <br /> + May peace come never to his nest <br /> + Who shall reprove thee. <br /> <br /> + + Sweet flower—for by that name at last, <br /> + When all my reveries are past, <br /> + I call thee, and to that cleave fast. <br /> + Sweet silent creature, <br /> + That breath'st with me, in sun and air, <br /> + Do thou, as thou art wont, repair <br /> + My heart with gladness, and a share <br /> + Of thy meek nature." +</p> + +<p>Observe how spiritual, yet how wandering and playful the fancy is in the +first two stanzas, and how far she flies from the matter in hand, never +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p6">§ 6. Various instances.</a></span>stopping to brood on the character of any one of +the images she summons, and yet for a moment truly seeing and believing +in them all; while in the last stanza the imagination returns with its +deep feeling to the heart of the flower, and "<i>cleaves fast</i>" to that. +Compare the operation of the imagination in Coleridge, on one of the +most trifling objects that could possibly have been submitted to its +action.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + <span style="padding-left: 8em; ">"The thin blue flame <br /></span> + Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not: <br /> + Only that film which fluttered on the grate <br /> + Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. <br /> + Methinks its motion in this hush of nature <br /> + Gives it dim sympathies with me, who live, <br /> + Making it a companionable form, <br /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page198"></a>[Page 198]</span> + Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling spirit <br /> + By its own moods interprets; everywhere, <br /> + Echo or mirror seeking of itself, <br /> + And makes a toy of thought." +</p> + +<p>Lastly, observe the sweet operation of fancy regardant, in the following +well-known passage from Scott, where both her beholding and transforming +powers are seen in their simplicity.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "The rocky summits—split and rent, <br /> + Formed turret, dome, or battlement.— <br /> + Or seemed fantastically set <br /> + With cupola or minaret. <br /> + Nor were these earth-born castles bare, <br /> + Nor lacked they many a banner fair, <br /> + For from their shivered brows displayed, <br /> + Far o'er th' unfathomable glade, <br /> + All twinkling with the dew-drop sheen, <br /> + The brier-rose fell, in streamers green,— <br /> + And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes <br /> + Waved in the west wind's summer sighs." +</p> + +<p>Let the reader refer to this passage, with its pretty tremulous +conclusion above the pine tree, "where glistening streamers waved and +danced," and then compare with it the following, where the imagination +operates on a scene nearly similar.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + "Gray rocks did peep from the spare moss, and stemm'd <br /> + The struggling brook; tall spires of windle strae <br /> + Threw their thin shadows down the rugged slope, <br /> + And nought but knarled roots of ancient pines, <br /> + Branchless and blasted, clench'd with grasping roots <br /> + Th' unwilling soil.<span class="spc1">.</span><span class="spc1">.</span><span class="spc1">.</span> <br /> + .<span class="spc1">.</span><span class="spc1">.</span><span class="spc1">.</span><span class="spc1">.</span><span class="spc1">.</span><span class="spc1">.</span> A gradual change was here, <br /> + Yet ghastly. For, <i>as fast years flow away, <br /> + The smooth brow gathers, and the hair grows thin <br /> + And white; and where irradiate dewy eyes <br /> + Had shone, gleam stony orbs; so from his steps <br /> + Bright flowers departed, and the beautiful shade <br /> + Of the green groves, with all their odorous winds <br /> + And musical motions.</i><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span> <br /> + .<span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span> <br /> + .<span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span><span class="spc">.</span> Where the pass extends <br /> + Its stony jaws, the abrupt mountain breaks. <br /> + And seems with its accumulated crags <br /> + To overhang the world; for wide expand <br /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page199"></a>[Page 199]</span> + Beneath the wan stars, and descending moon, <br /> + Islanded seas, blue mountains, mighty streams, <br /> + <i>Dim tracts and vast, robed in the lustrous gloom <br /> + Of leaden-colored even</i>, and <i>fiery hills <br /> + Mingling their flames with twilight</i> on the verge <br /> + Of the remote horizon. The near scene <br /> + In naked, and severe simplicity <br /> + Made contrast with the universe. A pine <br /> + Rock-rooted, stretch'd athwart the vacancy <br /> + Its swinging boughs, to each <i>inconstant blast <br /> + Yielding one only response at each pause</i>, <br /> + In most familiar cadence, with the howl, <br /> + The thunder, and the hiss of <i>homeless</i> streams, <br /> + Mingling its solemn song." +</p> + +<table class="nobctr" summary="Illustration"> +<tr> + <td><span class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img199.jpg" width="650" height="719" alt="STUDY OF STONE PINE, AT SESTRI." title="STUDY OF STONE PINE, AT SESTRI." /></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="caption">STUDY OF STONE PINE, AT SESTRI. <br />From a drawing by Ruskin.</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>In this last passage, the mind never departs from its solemn possession +of the solitary scene, the imagination only giving weight, meaning, and +strange human sympathies to all its sights and sounds.</p> + +<p>In that from Scott,<a name="FnAnchor_70" href="#Footnote_70"><sup>[70]</sup></a>—the fancy, led away by the outside resemblance +of floating form and hue to the banners, loses the feeling and +possession of the scene, and places herself in circumstances of +character completely opposite to the quietness and grandeur of the +natural objects; this would have been unjustifiable, but that the +resemblance occurs to the mind of the monarch, rather than to that of +the poet; and it is that, which of all others, would have been the most +likely to occur at the time; in this point of view it has high +imaginative propriety. Of the same fanciful character is that +transformation of the tree trunks into dragons noticed before in +Turner's Jason; and in the same way this becomes imaginative as it +exhibits the effect <span class="pagenum"><a name="page200"></a>[Page 200]</span> of fear in disposing to morbid +perception. Compare with it the real and high action of the imagination +on the same matter in Wordsworth's Yew trees (which I consider the most +vigorous and solemn bit of forest landscape ever painted):—</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + <span style="padding-left: 3em; ">"Each particular trunk a growth <br /></span> + Of intertwisted fibres serpentine, <br /> + Up coiling and inveterately convolved, <br /> + <i>Nor uninformed with Phantasy, and looks <br /> + That threaten the profane</i>." +</p> + +<p>It is too long to quote, but the reader should refer to it: let him note +especially, if painter, that pure touch of color, "by sheddings from the +pining umbrage tinged."</p> + +<p>In the same way, the blasted trunk on the left, in Turner's drawing of +the spot where Harold fell at the battle of Hastings, takes, where its +boughs first separate, the shape of the head of an arrow; this, which is +mere fancy in itself, is imagination as it supposes in the spectator an +excited condition of feeling dependent on the history of the spot.</p> + + + + +<p>I have been led perhaps into too great detail in illustrating these +points; but I think it is of no small importance to prove how in all +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p7">§ 7. Morbid or nervous fancy.</a></span>cases the imagination is based upon, and +appeals to, a deep heart feeling; and how faithful and earnest it is in +contemplation of the subject matter, never losing sight of it, or +disguising it, but depriving it of extraneous and material accidents, +and regarding it in its disembodied essence. I have not, however, +sufficiently noted in opposition to it, that diseased action of the +fancy which depends more on nervous temperament than intellectual power; +and which, as in dreaming, fever, insanity, and other morbid conditions +of mind is frequently a source of daring and inventive conception; and +so the visionary appearances resulting from various disturbances of the +frame by passion, and from the rapid tendency of the mind to invest with +shape and intelligence the active influences about it, as in the various +demons, spirits, and fairies of all imaginative nations; which, however, +I consider are no more to be ranked as right creations of fancy or +imagination than things actually seen and heard; for the action of the +nerves is I suppose the same, whether externally caused, or from within, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page201"></a>[Page 201]</span> although very grand imagination may be shown by the +intellectual anticipation and realization of such impressions; as in +that glorious vignette of Turner's to the voyage of Columbus. "Slowly +along the evening sky they went." Note especially therein, how admirably +true to the natural form, and yet how suggestive of the battlement he +has rendered the level flake of evening cloud.</p> + +<p>I believe that it is unnecessary for me to enter into farther detail of +illustration respecting these points; for fuller explanation of the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p8">§ 8. The action of contemplative imagination is not to be expressed by +art.</a></span>operations of the contemplative faculty on things verbally +expressible, the reader may be referred to Wordsworth's preface to his +poems; it only remains for us, here, to examine how far this imaginative +or abstract conception is to be conveyed by the material art of the +sculptor or the painter.</p> + +<p>Now, it is evident that the bold action of either the fancy or the +imagination, dependent on a bodiless and spiritual image of the object, +is not to be by lines or colors represented. We cannot, in the painting +of Satan fallen, suggest any image of pines or crags,—neither can we +assimilate the brier and the banner, nor give human sympathy to the +motion of the film, nor voice to the swinging of the pines.</p> + +<p>Yet certain powers there are, within due limits, of marking the thing +represented with an ideal character; and it was to these powers that I +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p9">§ 9. Except under narrow limits.—1st. Abstract rendering of form +without color.</a></span>alluded in defining the meaning of the term ideal, in the +thirteenth chapter of the preceding section. For it is by this operation +that the productions of high art are separated from those of the +realist.</p> + +<p>And, first, there is evidently capability of separating color and form, +and considering either separately. Form we find abstractedly considered +by the sculptor, how far it would be possible to advantage a statue by +the addition of color, I venture not to affirm; the question is too +extensive to be here discussed. High authorities and ancient practice, +are in favor of color; so the sculpture of the middle ages: the two +statues of Mino da Fiesole in the church of St<sup>a</sup>. Caterina at Pisa +have been colored, the irises of the eyes painted dark, and the hair +gilded, as also I think the Madonna in St<sup>a</sup>. Maria della <span class="pagenum"><a name="page202"></a>[Page 202]</span> +Spina; the eyes have been painted in the sculptures of Orcagna in Or San +Michele, but it looks like a remnant of barbarism, (compare the pulpit +of Guida da Como, in the church of San Bartolomeo at Pistoja,) and I +have never seen color on any solid forms, that did not, to my mind, +neutralize all other power; the porcelains of Luca della Robbia are +painful examples, and in lower art, Florentine mosaic in relief; gilding +is more admissible, and tells sometimes sweetly upon figures of quaint +design, as on the pulpit of St<sup>a</sup>. Maria Novella, while it spoils the +classical ornaments of the mouldings. But the truest grandeur of +sculpture I believe to be in the white form; something of this feeling +may be owing to the difficulty, or rather the immediately, of obtaining +truly noble color upon it, but if we could color the Elgin marbles with +the flesh tint of Giorgione, I had rather not have it done.</p> + +<p>Color, without form, is less frequently obtainable, and it may be +doubted whether it be desirable: yet I think that to the full enjoyment +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p10">§ 10. Of color without form.</a></span>of it, a certain abandonment of form is +necessary; sometimes by reducing it to the shapeless glitter of the gem, +as often Tintoret and Bassano; sometimes by loss of outline and blending +of parts, as Turner; sometimes by flatness of mass, as often Giorgione +and Titian. How far it is possible for the painter to represent those +mountains of Shelley as the poet sees them, "mingling <i>their flames</i> +with twilight," I cannot say; but my impression is, that there is no +true abstract mode of considering color; and that all the loss of form +in the works of Titian or Turner, is not ideal, but the representation +of the natural conditions under which bright color is seen; for form is +always in a measure lost by nature herself when color is very vivid.</p> + +<p>Again, there is capability of representing the essential character, +form, and color of an object, without external texture. On this point +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p11">§ 11. Or of both without texture.</a></span>much has been said by Reynolds and +others, and it is, indeed, perhaps the most unfailing characteristic of +great manner in painting. Compare a dog of Edwin Landseer with a dog of +Paul Veronese. In the first, the outward texture is wrought out with +exquisite dexterity of handling, and minute attention to all the +accidents of curl and gloss which can give appearance of reality, while +the hue <span class="pagenum"><a name="page203"></a>[Page 203]</span> and power of the sunshine, and the truth of the +shadow on all these forms is necessarily neglected, and the large +relations of the animal as a mass of color to the sky or ground, or +other parts of the picture, utterly lost. This is realism at the expense +of ideality, it is treatment essentially unimaginative.<a name="FnAnchor_71" href="#Footnote_71"><sup>[71]</sup></a> With +Veronese, there is no curling nor crisping, no glossiness nor sparkle, +hardly even hair, a mere type of hide, laid on with a few +scene-painter's touches. But the essence of dog is there, the entire +magnificent, generic animal type, muscular and living, and with broad, +pure, sunny daylight upon him, and bearing his true and harmonious +relation of color to all color about him. This is ideal treatment.</p> + +<p>The same treatment is found in the works of all the greatest men, they +all paint the lion more than his mane, and the horse rather than his +hide; and I think also they are more careful to obtain the right +expression of large and universal light and color, than local tints; for +the warmth of sunshine, and the force of sunlighted hue are always +sublime on whatever subject they may be exhibited; and so also are light +and shade, if grandly arranged, as may be well seen in an etching of +Rembrandt's of a spotted shell, which he has made altogether sublime by +broad truth and large ideality of light and shade; and so I have seen +frequent instances of very grand ideality in treatment of the most +commonplace still life, by our own Hunt, where the petty glosses and +delicacies, and minor forms, are all merged in a broad glow of suffused +color; so also in pieces of the same kind by Etty, where, however, +though the richness and play of color are greater, and the arrangement +grander, there is less expression of light, neither is there anything in +modern art that can be set beside some choice passages of Hunt in this +respect.</p> + +<p>Again, it is possible to represent objects capable of various accidents +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p12">§ 12. Abstraction or typical representation of animal form.</a></span>in generic or +symbolical form.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page204"></a>[Page 204]</span></p> + +<p>How far this may be done with things having necessary form, as animals, +I am not prepared to say. The lions of the Egyptian room in the British +Museum, and the fish beside Michael Angelo's Jonah, are instances; and +there is imaginative power about both which we find not in the more +perfectly realized Florentine boar, nor in Raffaelle's fish of the +draught. And yet the propriety and nobility of these types depend on the +architectural use and character of the one, and on the typical meaning +of the other: we should be grieved to see the forms of the Egyptian lion +substituted for those of Raffaelle's in its struggle with Samson, nor +would the whale of Michael Angelo be tolerated in the nets of +Gennesaret. So that I think it is only when the figure of the creature +stands not for any representation of vitality, but merely for a letter +or type of certain symbolical meaning, or else is adopted as a grand +form of decoration or support in architecture, that such generalization +is allowable, and in such circumstances I think it necessary, always +provided it be based, as in the instances given I conceive it to be, +upon thorough knowledge of the creature symbolized and wrought out by a +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p13">§ 13. Either when it is symbolically used.</a></span>master hand; and these +conditions being observed, I believe it to be right and necessary in +architecture to modify all animal forms by a severe architectural stamp, +and in symbolical use of them, to adopt a typical form, to which +practice the contrary, and its evil consequences are ludicrously +exhibited in the St. Peter of Carlo Dolci in the Pitti palace, which +owing to the prominent, glossy-plumed and crimson-combed cock, is liable +to be taken for the portrait of a poulterer, only let it be observed +that the treatment of the animal form here is offensive, not only from +its realization, but from the pettiness and meanness of its realization; +for it might, in other hands but Carlo Dolci's, have been a sublime +cock, though a real one, but in his, it is fit for nothing but the spit. +Compare as an example partly of symbolical treatment, partly of +magnificent realization, that supernatural lion of Tintoret, in the +picture of the Doge Loredano before the Madonna, with the plumes of his +mighty wings clashed together in cloudlike repose, and the strength of +the sea winds shut within their folding. And note farther the difference +between the typical use of the animal, as in this case, and that of the +fish of Jonah, (and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page205"></a>[Page 205]</span> again the fish before mentioned whose +form is indicated in the clouds of the baptism), and the actual +occurrence of the creature itself, with concealed meaning, as the ass +colt of the crucifixion, which it was necessary to paint as such, and +not as an ideal form.</p> + +<p>I cannot enter here into the question of the exact degree of severity +and abstraction necessary in the forms of living things architecturally +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p14">§ 14. Or in architectural decoration.</a></span>employed; my own feeling on the +subject is, though I dare not lay it down as a principle, (with the +Parthenon pediment standing against me like the shield of Ajax,) that no +perfect representation of animal form is right in architectural +decoration. For my own part, I had much rather see the metopes in the +Elgin room of the British Museum, and the Parthenon without them, than +have them together, and I would not surrender, in an architectural point +of view, one mighty line of the colossal, quiet, life-in-death statue +mountains in Egypt with their narrow fixed eyes and hands on their rocky +limbs, nor one Romanesque faēade with its porphyry mosaic of indefinable +monsters, nor one Gothic moulding of rigid saints and grinning goblins, +for ten Parthenons; and, I believe, I could show some rational ground +for this seeming barbarity if this were the place to do so, but at +present I can only ask the reader to compare the effect of the so-called +barbarous ancient mosaics on the front of St. Mark's, as they have been +recorded, happily, by the faithfulness of the good Gentile Bellini, in +one of his pictures now in the Venice gallery, with the veritably +barbarous pictorial substitutions of the fifteenth century, (one only of +the old mosaics remains, or did remain till lately, over the northern +door, but it is probably by this time torn down by some of the Venetian +committees of taste,) and also I would have the old portions of the +interior ceiling, or of the mosaics of Murano and Torcello, and the +glorious Cimabue mosaic of Pisa, and the roof of the Baptistery at +Parma, (that of the Florence Baptistery is a bad example, owing to its +crude whites and complicated mosaic of small forms,) all of which are as +barbarous as they can well be, in a certain sense, but mighty in their +barbarism, with any architectural decorations whatsoever, consisting of +professedly perfect animal forms, from the vile frescoes of Federigo +Zuccaro at Florence to the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page206"></a>[Page 206]</span> ceiling of the Sistine, and again +compare the professedly perfect sculpture of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p15">§ 15. Exception in delicate +and superimposed ornament.</a></span>Milan Cathedral with the statues of the +porches of Chartres; only be it always observed that it is not rudeness +and ignorance of art, but intellectually awful abstraction that I +uphold, and also be it noted that in all ornament, which takes place in +the general effect merely as so much fretted stone, in capitals and +other pieces of minute detail, the forms may be, and perhaps ought to +be, elaborately imitative; and in this respect again the capitals of St. +Mark's church, and of the Doge's palace at Venice may be an example to +the architects of all the world, in their boundless inventiveness, +unfailing elegance, and elaborate finish; there is more mind poured out +in turning a single angle of that church than would serve to build a +modern cathedral;<a name="FnAnchor_72" href="#Footnote_72"><sup>[72]</sup></a> and of the careful finish of the work, this may +serve for example, that one of the capitals of the Doge's palace is +formed of eight heads of different animals, of which one is a bear's +with a honeycomb in the mouth, whose carved <i>cells</i> are <i>hexagonal</i>.</p> + +<p>So far, then, of the abstraction proper to architecture, and to +symbolical uses, of which I shall have occasion to speak hereafter at +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p16">§ 16. Abstraction necessary from imperfection of materials.</a></span>length, +referring to it only at present as one of the operations of imagination +contemplative; other abstractions there are which are necessarily +consequent on the imperfection of materials, as of the hair in +sculpture, which is necessarily treated in masses that are in no sort +imitative, but only stand for hair, and have the grace, flow, and +feeling of it without the texture or division, and other abstractions +there are in which the form of one thing is fancifully indicated in the +matter of another; as in phantoms and cloud <span class="pagenum"><a name="page207"></a>[Page 207]</span> shapes, the use +of which, in mighty hands, is often most impressive, as in the cloudy +charioted Apollo of Nicolo Poussin in our own gallery, which the reader +may oppose to the substantial Apollo, in Wilson's Niobe, and again the +phantom vignette of Turner already noticed; only such operations of the +imagination are to be held of lower kind and dangerous consequence, if +frequently trusted in, for those painters only have the right +imaginative power who can set the supernatural form before us fleshed +and boned like ourselves.<a name="FnAnchor_73" href="#Footnote_73"><sup>[73]</sup></a> Other abstractions occur, frequently, of +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p17">§ 17. Abstractions of things capable of varied accident are not +imaginative.</a></span>things which have much accidental variety of form, as of +waves, on Greek sculptures in successive volutes, and of clouds often in +supporting volumes in the sacred pictures; but these I do not look upon +as results of imagination at all, but mere signs and letters; and +whenever a very highly imaginative mind touches them, it always realizes +as far as may be. Even Titian is content to use at the top of his St. +Pietro Martiri, the conventional, round, opaque cloud, which cuts his +trees open like a gouge; but Tintoret, in his picture of the Golden +Calf, though compelled to represent the Sinai under conventional form, +in order that the receiving of the tables might be seen at the top of +it, yet so soon as it is possible to give more truth, he is ready with +it; he takes a grand fold of horizontal cloud straight from the flanks +of the Alps, and shows the forests of the mountains through its misty +volume, like sea-weed through deep sea.<a name="FnAnchor_74" href="#Footnote_74"><sup>[74]</sup></a> Nevertheless, when the +realization is impossible, <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p18">§ 18. Yet sometimes valuable.</a></span>bold symbolism +is of the highest value, and in religious art, as we shall presently +see, even necessary, as of the rays of light in the Titian woodcut of +St. Francis before noticed; and sometimes the attention is directed by +some such strange form to the meaning of the image, which may be missed +if it remains in its natural purity, (as, I suppose, few in looking at +the Cephalus and Procris of Turner, note the sympathy of those faint +rays that are just drawing back and dying between the trunks of the +far-off forest, with the ebbing life of the nymph; unless, indeed, they +happen to recollect the same sympathy <span class="pagenum"><a name="page208"></a>[Page 208]</span> marked by Shelley in +the Alastor;) but the imagination is not shown in any such +modifications; however, in some cases they may be valuable (in the +Cephalus they would be utterly destructive,) and I note them merely in +consequence of their peculiar use in religious art, presently to be +examined.</p> + +<p>The last mode we have here to note in which the imagination regardant +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p19">§ 19. Exaggeration. Its laws and limits. First, in scale of +representation.</a></span>may be expressed in art is exaggeration, of which, as it +is the vice of all bad artists, may be constantly resorted to without +any warrant of imagination, it is necessary to note strictly the +admissible limits.</p> + +<p>In the first place, a colossal statue is necessarily no more an +exaggeration of what it represents than a miniature is a diminution, it +need not be a representation of a giant, but a representation, on a +large scale, of a man; only it is to be observed, that as any plane +intersecting the cone of rays between us and the object, must receive an +image smaller than the object; a small image is rationally and +completely expressive of a larger one; but not a large of a small one. +Hence I think that all statues above the Elgin standard, or that of +Michael Angelo's Night and Morning, are, in a measure, taken by the eye +for representations of giants, and I think them always disagreeable. The +amount of exaggeration admitted by Michael Angelo is valuable because it +separates the emblematic from the human form, and gives greater freedom +to the grand lines of the frame; for notice of his scientific system of +increase of size I may refer the reader to Sir Charles Bell's remarks on +the statues of the Medici chapel; but there is one circumstance which +Sir Charles has not noticed, and in the interpretation of which, +therefore, it is likely I may be myself wrong; that the extremities are +singularly small in proportion to the limbs, by which means there is an +expression given of strength and activity greater than in the ordinary +human type, which appears to me to be an allowance for that alteration +in proportion necessitated by increase of size, of which we took note in +Chap. VI. of the first section, § 10, note; not but that Michael Angelo +always makes the extremities comparatively small, but smallest, +comparatively, in his largest works; so I think, from the size of the +head, it may be conjectured respecting the Theseus of the Elgins. Such +adaptations <span class="pagenum"><a name="page209"></a>[Page 209]</span> are not necessary when the exaggerated image is +spectral; for as the laws of matter in that case can have no operation, +we may expand the form as far as we choose, only let careful distinction +be made between the size of the thing represented, and the scale of the +representation. The canvas on which Fuseli has stretched his Satan in +the schools of the Royal Academy is a mere concession to inability. He +might have made him look more gigantic in one of a foot square.</p> + +<p>Another kind of exaggeration is of things whose size is variable to a +size or degree greater than that usual with them, as in waves and <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p20">§ 20. +Secondly. Of things capable of variety of scale.</a></span>mountains; and there are +hardly any limits to this exaggeration so long as the laws which nature +observes in her increase be observed. Thus, for instance: the form and +polished surface of a breaking ripple three inches high, are not +representation of either the form or the surface of the surf of a storm, +nodding ten feet above the beach; neither would the cutting ripple of a +breeze upon a lake if simply exaggerated, represent the forms of +Atlantic surges; but as nature increases her bulk, she diminishes the +angles of ascent, and increases her divisions; and if we would represent +surges of size greater than ever existed, which it is lawful to do, we +must carry out these operations to still greater extent. Thus, Turner, +in his picture of the Slave Ship, divides the whole sea into two masses +of enormous swell, and conceals the horizon by a gradual slope of only +two or three degrees. This is intellectual exaggeration. In the Academy +exhibition of 1843, there was, in one of the smaller rooms, a black +picture of a storm, in which there appeared on the near sea, just about +to be overwhelmed by an enormous breaker, curling right over it, an +object at first sight liable to be taken for a walnut shell, but which, +on close examination, proved to be a ship with mast and sail, with +Christ and his twelve disciples in it. This is childish exaggeration, +because it is impossible, by the laws of matter and motion, that such a +breaker should ever exist. Again in mountains, we have repeatedly +observed the necessary building up and multitudinous division of the +higher peaks, and the smallness of the slopes by which they usually +rise. We may, therefore, build up the mountain as high as we please, but +we must do it in nature's way, and not in impossible <span class="pagenum"><a name="page210"></a>[Page 210]</span> peaks +and precipices; not but that a daring feature is admissible here and +there, as the Matterhorn is admitted by nature; but we must not compose +a picture out of such exceptions; we may use them, but they must be as +exceptions exhibited. I shall have much to say, when we come to treat of +the sublime, of the various modes of treating mountain form, so that at +present I shall only point to an unfortunate instance of inexcusable and +effectless exaggeration in the distance of Turner's vignette to Milton, +(the temptation on the mountain,) and desire the reader to compare it +with legitimate exaggeration, in the vignette to the second part of +Jacqueline, in Rogers's poems.</p> + +<p>Another kind of exaggeration is necessary to retain the characteristic +impressions of nature on reduced scale, it is not possible, for <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p21">§ 21. +Thirdly, necessary in expression of characteristic features on +diminished scale.</a></span>instance, to give the leafage of trees in its proper +proportion, when the trees represented are large, without entirely +losing their grace of form and curvature; of this the best proof is +found in the Calotype or Daguerreotype, which fail in foliage, not only +because the green rays are ineffective, but because, on the small scale +of the image, the reduced leaves lose their organization, and look like +moss attached to sticks. In order to retain, therefore, the character of +flexibility and beauty of foliage, the painter is often compelled to +increase the proportionate size of the leaves, and to arrange them in +generic masses. Of this treatment compare the grand examples throughout +the Liber Studiorum. It is by such means only that the ideal character +of objects is to be preserved; as we before observed in the 13th chapter +of the first section. In all these cases exaggeration is only lawful as +the sole means of arriving at truth of impression when strict fidelity +is out of the question.</p> + +<p>Other modes of exaggeration there are, on which I shall not at present +farther insist, the proper place for their discussion being in treating +of the sublime, and these which I have at present instanced are enough +to establish the point at issue, respecting imaginative verity, inasmuch +as we find that exaggeration itself, if imaginative, is referred to +principles of truth, and of actual being.</p> + +<p>We have now, I think, reviewed the various modes in which imagination +contemplative may be exhibited in art, and arrived <span class="pagenum"><a name="page211"></a>[Page 211]</span> at all +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c4p22">§ 22. Recapitulation.</a></span>necessary certainties respecting the essence of the +faculty: which we have found in all its three functions, associative of +truth, penetrative of truth, and contemplative of truth; and having no +dealings nor relations with any kind of falsity. One task, however, +remains to us, namely, to observe the operation of the theoretic and +imaginative faculties together, in the attempt at realization to the +bodily sense of beauty supernatural and divine.</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_70" href="#FnAnchor_70">[70]</a> Let it not be supposed that I mean to compare the sickly dreaming +of Shelley over clouds and waves with the masculine and magnificent +grasp of men and things which we find in Scott; it only happens that +these two passages are more illustrative, by the likeness of the scenery +they treat, than any others I could have opposed; and that Shelley is +peculiarly distinguished by the faculty of contemplative imagination. +Scott's healthy and truthful feeling would not allow him to represent +the benighted hunter provoked by loss of game, horse, and way at once, +as indulging in any more exalted flights of imagination than those +naturally consequent on the contrast between the night's lodging he +expected, and that which befitted him.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_71" href="#FnAnchor_71">[71]</a> I do not mean to withdraw the praise I have given, and shall always +be willing to give such pictures as the Old Shepherd's Chief Mourner, +and to all in which the character and inner life of animals are +developed. But all lovers of art must regret to find Mr. Landseer +wasting his energies on such inanities as the "Shoeing," and sacrificing +color, expression, and action, to an imitation of glossy hide.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_72" href="#FnAnchor_72">[72]</a> I have not brought forward any instances of the imaginative power +in architecture, as my object is not at present to exhibit its operation +in all matter, but only to define its essence; but it may be well to +note, in our own new houses of Parliament, how far a building approved +by a committee of Taste, may proceed without manifestation either of +imagination or composition; it remains to be seen how far the towers may +redeem it; and I allude to it at present unwillingly, and only in the +desire of influencing, so far as I may, those who have the power to +prevent the adoption of a design for a bridge to take place of +Westminster, which was exhibited in 1844 at the Royal Academy, +professing to be in harmony with the new building, but which was fit +only to carry a railroad over a canal.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_73" href="#FnAnchor_73">[73]</a> Comp. <a href="#s2c5p5">Ch. V. § 5</a>.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_74" href="#FnAnchor_74">[74]</a> All the clouds of Tintoret are sublime; the worst that I know in +art are Correggio's, especially in the Madonna della Scudella, and Dome +of Parma.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page212"></a>[Page 212]</span></p> + +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<h5>OF THE SUPERHUMAN IDEAL.</h5> + +<p>In our investigation in the first section of the laws of beauty, we +confined ourselves to the observation of lower nature, or of humanity. +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p1">§ 1. The subject is not to be here treated in detail.</a></span>We were prevented +from proceeding to deduce conclusions respecting divine ideality by our +not having then established any principles respecting the imaginative +faculty, by which, under the discipline of the theoretic, such ideality +is conceived. I had purposed to conclude the present section by a +careful examination of this subject; but as this is evidently foreign to +the matter immediately under discussion, and involves questions of great +intricacy respecting the development of mind among those pagan nations +who are supposed to have produced high examples of spiritual ideality, I +believe it will be better to delay such inquiries until we have +concluded our detailed observation of the beauty of visible nature; and +I shall therefore at present take notice only of one or two broad +principles, which were referred to, or implied, in the chapter +respecting the human ideal, and without the enunciation of which, that +chapter might lead to false conclusions.</p> + +<p>There are four ways in which beings supernatural may be conceived as +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p2">§ 2. The conceivable modes of manifestation of Spiritual Beings are +four.</a></span>manifesting themselves to human sense. The first, by external +types, signs, or influences; as God to Moses in the flames of the bush, +and to Elijah in the voice of Horeb.</p> + +<p>The second, by the assuming of a form not properly belonging to them; as +the Holy Spirit of that of a Dove, the second person of the Trinity of +that of a Lamb; and so such manifestations, under angelic or other form, +of the first person of the Trinity, as seem to have been made to +Abraham, Moses, and Ezekiel.</p> + +<p>The third, by the manifestation of a form properly belonging <span class="pagenum"><a name="page213"></a>[Page 213]</span> +to them, but not necessarily seen; as of the Risen Christ to his +disciples when the doors were shut. And the fourth, by their operation +on the human form, which they influence or inspire, as in the shining of +the face of Moses.</p> + +<p>It is evident that in all these cases, wherever there is form at all, it +is the form of some creature to us known. It is no new form peculiar to +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p3">§ 3. And these are in or through creature forms familiar to us.</a></span>spirit +nor can it be. We can conceive of none. Our inquiry is simply, +therefore, by what modifications those creature forms to us known, as of +a lamb, a bird, or a human creature, may be explained as signs or +habitations of Divinity, or of angelic essence, and not creatures such +as they seem.</p> + +<p>This may be done in two ways. First, by effecting some change in the +appearance of the creature inconsistent with its actual nature, as by +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p4">§ 4. Supernatural character may be impressed on these either by +phenomena inconsistent with their common nature, (compare chap. 4, § +16)</a></span>giving it colossal size, or unnatural color, or material, as of gold, +or silver, or flame, instead of flesh, or by taking away its property of +matter altogether, and forming it of light or shade, or in an +intermediate step, of cloud, or vapor; or explaining it by terrible +concomitant circumstances, as of wounds in the body, or strange lights +and seemings round about it; or by joining of two bodies together as in +angels' wings. Of all which means of attaining supernatural character +(which though, in their nature ordinary and vulgar, are yet effective +and very glorious in mighty hands) we have already seen the limits in +speaking of the imagination.</p> + +<p>But the second means of obtaining supernatural character is that with +which we are now concerned, namely, retaining the actual form in its +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p5">§ 5. Or by inherent Dignity.</a></span>full and material presence, and without aid +from any external interpretation whatsoever, to raise that form by mere +inherent dignity to such a pitch of power and impressiveness as cannot +but assert and stamp it for superhuman.</p> + +<p>On the north side of the Campo Santo at Pisa, are a series of paintings +from the Old Testament History by Benozzo Gozzoli. In the earlier of +these, angelic presences, mingled with human, occur frequently, +illustrated by no awfulness of light, nor incorporeal tracing. Clear +revealed they move, in human forms, in the broad daylight and on the +open earth, side by <span class="pagenum"><a name="page214"></a>[Page 214]</span> side, and hand in hand with men. But they +never miss of the angel.</p> + +<p>He who can do this has reached the last pinnacle and utmost power of +ideal, or any other art. He stands in no need thenceforward, of cloud, +nor lightning, nor tempest, nor terror of mystery. His sublime is +independent of the elements. It is of that which shall stand when they +shall melt with fervent heat, and light the firmament when the sun is as +sackcloth of hair.</p> + +<p>Let us consider by what means this has been effected, so far as they are +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p6">§ 6. 1st. Of the expression of Inspiration.</a></span>by analysis traceable; and +that is not far, for here, as always, we find that the greater part of +what has been rightly accomplished has been done by faith and intense +feeling, and cannot, by aid of any rules or teaching, be either tried, +estimated, or imitated.</p> + +<p>And first, of the expression of supernatural influence on forms actually +human, as of sibyl or prophet. It is evident that not only here is it +unnecessary, but we are not altogether at liberty to trust for +expression to the utmost ennobling of the human form: for we cannot do +more than this, when that form is to be the actual representation, and +not the recipient of divine presence. Hence, in order to retain the +actual humanity definitely, we must leave upon it such signs of the +operation of sin and the liability to death as are consistent with human +ideality, and often more than these, definite signs of immediate and +active evil, when the prophetic spirit is to be expressed in men such as +were Saul and Balaam; neither may we ever, with just discrimination, +touch the utmost limits of beauty in human form when inspiration is to +be expressed, and not angelic or divine being; of which reserve and +subjection the most instructive instances are found in the works of +Angelico, who invariably uses inferior types for the features of +humanity, even glorified, (excepting always the Madonna,) nor ever +exerts his full power of beauty either in feature or expression, except +in angels or in the Madonna or in Christ. Now the expression of +spiritual influence without supreme elevation of the bodily type we have +seen to be a work of imagination penetrative, and we found it +accomplished by Michael Angelo; but I think by him only. I am aware of +no one else who, to my mind, has expressed the inspiration of prophet or +sibyl; this, however, I affirm not, but <span class="pagenum"><a name="page215"></a>[Page 215]</span> shall leave to the +determination of the reader, as the principles at present to be noted +refer entirely to that elevation of the creature form necessary when it +is actually representative of a spiritual being.</p> + +<p>I have affirmed in the conclusion of the first section that "of that +which is more than creature, no creature ever conceived." I think this +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p7">§ 7. No representation of that which is more than creature is +possible.</a></span>almost self-evident, for it is clear that the illimitableness +of Divine attributes cannot be by matter represented, (though it may be +typefied,) and I believe that all who are acquainted with the range of +sacred art will admit, not only that no representation of Christ has +ever been even partially successful, but that the greatest painters fall +therein below their accustomed level; Perugino and Fra Angelico +especially; Leonardi has I think done best, but perhaps the beauty of +the fragment left at Milan, (for in spite of all that is said of +repainting and destruction, that Cenacolo is still the finest in +existence) is as much dependent on the very untraceableness resulting +from injury as on its original perfection. Of more daring attempts at +representation of Divinity we need not speak; only this is to be noted +respecting them, that though by the ignorant Romanists many such efforts +were made under the idea of actual representation, (note the way in +which Cellini speaks of the seal made for the Pope,) by the nobler among +them I suppose they were intended, and by us at any rate they may always +be received, as mere symbols, the noblest that could be employed, but as +much symbols still as a triangle, or the Alpha and Omega; nor do I think +that the most scrupulous amongst Christians ought to desire to exchange +the power obtained by the use of this symbol in Michael Angelo's +creation of Adam and of Eve for the effect which would be produced by +the substitution of a triangle or any other sign in place of it. Of +these efforts then we need reason no farther, but may limit ourselves to +considering the purest modes of giving a conception of superhuman but +still creature form, as of angels; in equal rank with whom, perhaps, we +may without offence place the mother of Christ: at least we must so +regard the type of the Madonna in receiving it from Romanist +painters.<a name="FnAnchor_75" href="#Footnote_75"><sup>[75]</sup></a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page216"></a>[Page 216]</span></p> + +<p>And first, much is to be done by right modification of accessory +circumstances, so as to express miraculous power exercised over them by +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p8">§ 8. Supernatural character expressed by modification of accessories.</a></span>the +spiritual creature. There is a beautiful instance of this in John +Bellini's picture of St. Jerome at Venice. The saint sits upon a rock, +his grand form defined against clear green open sky; he is reading, a +noble tree springs out of a cleft in the rock, bends itself suddenly +back to form a rest for the volume, then shoots up into the sky. There +is something very beautiful in this obedient ministry of the lower +creature; but be it observed that the sweet feeling of the whole +depends upon the service being such as is consistent with its nature. It +is not animated, it does not <i>listen</i> to the saint, nor bend itself +towards him as if in affection, this would have been mere fancy, +illegitimate and effectless. But the simple bend of the trunk to receive +the book is miraculous subjection of the true nature of the tree; it is +therefore imaginative, and very touching.</p> + +<p>It is not often however that the religious painters even go this length; +they content themselves usually with impressing on the landscape perfect +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p9">§ 9. Landscape of the religious painters. Its character is eminently +symmetrical.</a></span>symmetry and order, such as may seem consistent with, or +induced by the spiritual nature they would <span class="pagenum"><a name="page217"></a>[Page 217]</span> represent. All +signs of decay, disturbance, and imperfection, are also banished; and in +doing this it is evident that some unnaturalness and singularity must +result, inasmuch as there are no veritable forms of landscape but +express or imply a state of progression or of imperfection All mountain +forms are seen to be produced by convulsion and modelled by decay; the +finer forms of cloud have stories in them about storm; all forest +grouping is wrought out with varieties of strength and growth among its +several members, and bears evidences of struggle with unkind influences. +All such appearances are banished in the supernatural landscape; the +trees grow straight, equally branched on each side, and of such slight +and feathery frame as shows them never to have encountered blight or +frost or tempest. The mountains stand up in fantastic pinnacles; there +is on them no trace of torrent, no scathe of lightning; no fallen +fragments encumber their foundations, no worn ravines divide their +flanks; the seas are always waveless, the skies always calm, crossed +only by fair, horizontal, lightly wreathed, white clouds.</p> + +<p>In some cases these conditions result partly from feeling, partly from +ignorance of the facts of nature, or incapability of representing them, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p10">§ 10. Landscape of Benozzo Gozzoli.</a></span>as in the first type of the treatment +found in Giotto and his school; in others they are observed on +principle, as by Benozzo Gozzoli, Perugino, and Raffaelle. There is a +beautiful instance by the former in the frescoes of the Ricardi palace, +where behind the adoring angel groups the landscape is governed by the +most absolute symmetry; roses and pomegranates, their leaves drawn to +the last rib and vein, twine themselves in fair and perfect order about +delicate trellises; broad stone pines and tall cypresses overshadow +them, bright birds hover here and there in the serene sky, and groups of +angels, hand joined with hand, and wing with wing, glide and float +through the glades of the unentangled forest. But behind the human +figures, behind the pomp and turbulence of the Kingly procession +descending from the distant hills the spirit of the landscape is +changed. Severer mountains rise in the distance, ruder prominences and +less flowery vary the nearer ground, and gloomy shadows remain unbroken +beneath the forest branches.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page218"></a>[Page 218]</span></p> + +<p>The landscape of Perugino, for grace, purity and as much of nature as is +consistent with the above-named conditions, is unrivalled; and the more +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p11">§ 11. Landscape of Perugino and Raffaelle.</a></span>interesting because in him +certainly whatever limits are set to the rendering of nature proceed not +from incapability. The sea is in the distance almost always, then some +blue promontories and undulating dewy park ground, studded with +glittering trees; in the landscape of the fresco in St<sup>a</sup>. Maria +Maddalena at Florence there is more variety than is usual with him; a +gentle river winds round the bases of rocky hills, a river like our own +Wye or Tees in their loveliest reaches; level meadows stretch away on +its opposite side; mounds set with slender-stemmed foliage occupy the +nearer ground, a small village with its simple spire peeps from the +forest at the bend of the valley, and it is remarkable that in +architecture thus employed neither Perugino nor any other of the ideal +painters ever use Italian forms but always Transalpine, both of church +and castle. The little landscape which forms the background of his own +portrait in the Uffizii is another highly finished and characteristic +example. The landscape of Raffaelle was learned from his father, and +continued for some time little modified, though expressed with greater +refinement. It became afterwards conventional and poor, and in some +cases altogether meaningless. The haystacks and vulgar trees behind the +St. Cecilia at Bologna form a painful contrast to the pure space of +mountain country in the Perugino opposite.<a name="FnAnchor_76" href="#Footnote_76"><sup>[76]</sup></a></p> + +<p>In all these cases, while I would uphold the landscape thus employed and +treated, as worthy of all admiration, I should be sorry to advance it +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p12">§ 12. Such Landscape is not to be imitated.</a></span>for imitation. What is right +in its mannerism arose from keen feeling in the painter: imitated +without the same feeling, it <span class="pagenum"><a name="page219"></a>[Page 219]</span> would be painful; the only safe +mode of following in such steps is to attain perfect knowledge of nature +herself, and then to suffer our own feelings to guide us in the +selection of what is fitting for any particular purpose. Every painter +ought to paint what he himself loves, not what others have loved; if his +mind be pure and sweetly toned, what he loves will be lovely; if +otherwise, no example can guide his selection, no precept govern his +hand; and farther let it be distinctly observed, that all this mannered +landscape is only right under the supposition of its being a background +to some supernatural presence; behind mortal beings it would be wrong, +and by itself, as landscape, ridiculous; and farther, the chief virtue +of it results from the exquisite refinement of those natural details +consistent with its character from the botanical drawing of the flowers +and the clearness and brightness of the sky.</p> + +<p>Another mode of attaining supernatural character is by purity of color +almost shadowless, no more darkness being allowed than is absolutely +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p13">§ 13. Color, and Decoration. Their use in representations of the +Supernatural.</a></span>necessary for the explanation of the forms, and the +vividness of the effect enhanced as far as may be by use of gilding, +enamel, and other jewellery. I think the smaller works of Angelico are +perfect models in this respect; the glories about the heads being of +beaten rays of gold, on which the light plays and changes as the +spectator moves; (and which therefore throw the purest flesh color out +in dark relief) and such color and light being obtained by the +enamelling of the angel wings as of course is utterly unattainable by +any other expedient of art; the colors of the draperies always pure and +pale; blue, rose, or tender green, or brown, but never dark or gloomy; +the faces of the most celestial fairness, brightly flushed: the height +and glow of this flush are noticed by Constantin as reserved by the +older painters for spiritual beings, as if expressive of light seen +through the body.</p> + +<p>I cannot think it necessary while I insist on the value of all these +seemingly childish means when in the hands of a noble painter, to assert +also their futility and even absurdity if employed by no exalted power. +I think the error has commonly been on the side of scorn, and that we +reject much in our foolish vanity, which if wiser and more earnest we +should delight <span class="pagenum"><a name="page220"></a>[Page 220]</span> in. But two points it is very necessary to +note in the use of such accessories.</p> + +<p>The first that the ornaments used by Angelico, Giotto, and Perugino, but +especially by Angelico, are always of a generic and abstract character. +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p14">§ 14. Decoration so used must be generic.</a></span>They are not diamonds, nor +brocades, nor velvets, nor gold embroideries; they are mere spots of +gold or of color, simple patterns upon <i>textureless</i> draperies; the +angel wings burn with transparent crimson and purple and amber, but they +are not set forth with peacock's plumes; the golden circlets gleam with +changeful light, but they are not beaded with elaborate pearls nor set +with studied sapphires.</p> + +<p>In the works of Filippino Lippi, Mantegna, and many other painters +following, interesting examples may be found of the opposite treatment; +and as in Lippi the heads are usually very sweet, and the composition +severe, the degrading effect of the realized decorations and imitated +dress may be seen in him simply, and without any addition of painfulness +from other deficiencies of feeling. The larger of the two pictures in +the Tuscan room of the Uffizii, but for this defect, would have been a +very noble ideal work.</p> + +<p>The second point to be observed is that brightness of color is +altogether inadmissible without purity and harmony; and that the sacred +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p15">§ 15. And color pure.</a></span>painters must not be followed in their frankness of +unshadowed color unless we can also follow them in its clearness. As far +as I am acquainted with the modern schools of Germany, they seem to be +entirely ignorant of the value of color as an assistant of feeling, and +to think that hardness, dryness, and opacity are its virtues as employed +in religious art; whereas I hesitate not to affirm that in such art more +than in any other, clearness, luminousness and intensity of hue are +essential to right impression; and from the walls of the Arena chapel in +their rainbow play of brilliant harmonies, to the solemn purple tones of +Perugino's fresco in the Albizzi palace, I know not any great work of +sacred art which is not as precious in color as in all other qualities +(unless indeed it be a Crucifixion of Fra Angelico in the Florence +Academy, which has just been glazed and pumiced and painted and +varnished by the picture-cleaners until it glares from one end of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page221"></a>[Page +221]</span> the picture gallery to the other;) only the pure white light and +delicate hue of the idealists, whose colors are by preference such as we +have seen to be the most beautiful in the chapter on Purity are +carefully to be distinguished from the golden light and deep pitched hue +of the school of Titian whose virtue is the grandeur of earthly +solemnity, not the glory of heavenly rejoicing.</p> + +<p>But leaving these accessory circumstances and touching the treatment of +the bodily form, it is evident in the first place that whatever typical +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p16">§ 16. Ideal form of the body itself, of what variety susceptible.</a></span>beauty +the human body is capable of possessing must be bestowed upon it when it +is understood as spiritual. And therefore those general proportions and +types which are deducible from comparison of the nobler individuals of +the race, must be adopted and adhered to; admitting among them not, as +in the human ideal, such varieties as result from past suffering, or +contest with sin, but such only as are consistent with sinless nature or +are the signs of instantly or continually operative affections; for +though it is conceivable that spirit should suffer, it is inconceivable +that spiritual frame should retain like the stamped inelastic human +clay, the brand of sorrow past, unless fallen.</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + <span style="padding-left: 8em; ">"His face, <br /></span> + Deep scars of thunder had entrenched, and care <br /> + Sat on his faded cheek." +</p> + +<p class="noind">Yet so far forth the angelic ideal is diminished, nor could this be +suffered in pictorial representation.</p> + +<p>Again, such muscular development as is necessary to the perfect beauty +of the body, is to be rendered. But that which is necessary to strength, +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p17">§ 17. Anatomical development how far admissible.</a></span>or which appears to have +been the result of laborious exercise, is inadmissible. No herculean +form is spiritual, for it is degrading the spiritual creature to suppose +it operative through impulse of bone and sinew; its power is immaterial +and constant, neither dependent on, nor developed by exertion. +Generally, it is well to conceal anatomical development as far as may +be; even Michael Angelo's anatomy interferes with his divinity; in the +hands of lower men the angel becomes a preparation. How far it is +possible to subdue or generalize the naked form <span class="pagenum"><a name="page222"></a>[Page 222]</span> I venture not +to affirm, but I believe that it is best to conceal it as far as may be, +not with draperies light and undulating, that fall in with, and exhibit +its principal lines, but with draperies severe and linear, such as were +constantly employed before the time of Raffaelle. I recollect no single +instance of a naked angel that does not look boylike or child-like, and +unspiritualized; even Fra Bartolomeo's might with advantage be spared +from the pictures at Lucca, and, in the hands of inferior men, the sky +is merely encumbered with sprawling infants; those of Domenichino in the +Madonna del Rosario, and Martyrdom of St. Agnes, are peculiarly +offensive, studies of bare-legged children howling and kicking in +volumes of smoke. Confusion seems to exist in the minds of subsequent +painters between Angels and Cupids.</p> + +<p>Farther, the qualities of symmetry and repose are of peculiar value in +spiritual form. We find the former most earnestly sought by all the +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p18">§ 18. Symmetry. How valuable.</a></span>great painters in the arrangement of the +hair, wherein no loosely flowing nor varied form is admitted, but all +restrained in undisturbed and equal ringlets; often, as in the infant +Christ of Fra Angelico, supported on the forehead in forms of +sculpturesque severity. The Angel of Masaccio, in the Deliverance of +Peter, grand both in countenance and motion, loses much of his +spirituality because the painter has put a little too much of his own +character into the hair, and left it disordered.</p> + +<p>Of repose, and its exalting power, I have already said enough for our +present purpose, though I have not insisted on the peculiar <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p19">§ 19. The +influence of Greek art, how dangerous.</a></span>manifestation of it in the +Christian ideal as opposed to the pagan. But this, as well as other +questions relating to the particular development of the Greek mind, is +foreign to the immediate inquiry, which therefore I shall here conclude +in the hope of resuming it in detail after examining the laws of beauty +in the inanimate creation; always, however, holding this for certain, +that of whatever kind or degree the short coming may be, it is not +possible but that short coming should be visible in every pagan +conception, when set beside Christian; and believing, for my own part, +that there is not only deficiency, but such difference in kind as must +make all Greek conception full of danger to the <span class="pagenum"><a name="page223"></a>[Page 223]</span> student in +proportion to his admiration of it; as I think has been fatally seen in +its effect on the Italian schools, when its pernicious element first +mingled with their solemn purity, and recently in its influence on the +French historical painters: neither can I from my present knowledge fix +upon an ancient statue which expresses by the countenance any one +elevated character of soul, or any single enthusiastic self-abandoning +affection, much less any such majesty of <span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p20">§ 20. Its scope, how +limited.</a></span>feeling as might mark the features for supernatural. The Greek +could not conceive a spirit; he could do nothing without limbs; his god +is a finite god, talking, pursuing, and going journeys;<a name="FnAnchor_77" href="#Footnote_77"><sup>[77]</sup></a> if at any +time he was touched with a true feeling of the unseen powers around him, +it was in the field of poised battle, for there is something in the near +coming of the shadow of death, something in the devoted fulfilment of +mortal duty, that reveals the real God, though darkly; that pause on the +field of Platęa was not one of vain superstition; the two white figures +that blazed along the Delphic plain, when the earthquake and the fire +led the charge from Olympus, were more than sunbeams on the battle dust; +the sacred cloud, with its lance light and triumph singing, that went +down to brood over the masts of Salamis, was more than morning mist +among the olives; and yet what were the Greek's thoughts of his god of +battle? No spirit power was in the vision; it was a being of clay +strength and human passion, foul, fierce, and changeful; of penetrable +arms and vulnerable flesh. Gather what we may of great, from pagan +chisel or pagan dream, and set it beside the orderer of Christian +warfare, Michael the Archangel: not Milton's "with hostile brow and +visage all inflamed," not even Milton's in kingly treading of the hills +of Paradise, not Raffaelle's with the expanded wings and brandished +spear, but Perugino's with his triple crest of traceless plume unshaken +in heaven, his hand fallen on his crossleted sword, the truth girdle +binding his undinted armor; God has put his power upon him, resistless +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page224"></a>[Page 224]</span> radiance is on his limbs, no lines are there of earthly +strength, no trace on the divine features of earthly anger; trustful and +thoughtful, fearless, but full of love, incapable except of the repose +of eternal conquest, vessel and instrument of Omnipotence, filled like a +cloud with the victor light, the dust of principalities and powers +beneath his feet, the murmur of hell against him heard by his spiritual +ear like the winding of a shell on the far-off sea-shore.</p> + +<p>It is vain to attempt to pursue the comparison; the two orders of art +have in them nothing common, and the field of sacred history, the intent +<span class="sidenote"><a name="s2c5p21">§ 21. Conclusion.</a></span>and scope of Christian feeling, are too wide and +exalted to admit of the juxtaposition of any other sphere or order of +conception; they embrace all other fields like the dome of heaven. With +what comparison shall we compare the types of the martyr saints, the St. +Stephen of Fra Bartolomeo, with his calm forehead crowned by the stony +diadem, or the St. Catherine of Raffaelle looking up to heaven in the +dawn of the eternal day, with her lips parted in the resting from her +pain? or with what the Madonnas of Francia and Pinturicchio, in whom the +hues of the morning and the solemnity of the eve, the gladness in +accomplished promise, and sorrow of the sword-pierced heart, are +gathered into one human lamp of ineffable love? or with what the angel +choirs of Angelico, with the flames on their white foreheads waving +brighter as they move, and the sparkles streaming from their purple +wings like the glitter of many suns upon a sounding sea, listening, in +the pauses of alternate song, for the prolonging of the trumpet blast, +and the answering of psaltery and cymbal, throughout the endless deep +and from all the star shores of heaven?</p> + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_75" href="#FnAnchor_75">[75]</a> I take no note of the representation of evil spirits, since +throughout we have been occupied in the pursuit of beauty; but it may be +observed generally that there is great difficulty to be overcome in +attempts of this kind, because the elevation of the form necessary to +give it spirituality destroys the appearance of evil; hence even the +greatest painters have been reduced to receive aid from the fancy, and +to eke out all they could conceive of malignity by help of horns, hoofs, +and claws. Giotto's Satan in the Campo Santo, with the serpent gnawing +the heart, is fine; so many of the fiends of Orcagna, and always those +of Michael Angelo. Tintoret in the Temptation, with his usual truth of +invention, has represented the evil spirit under the form of a fair +angel, the wings burning with crimson and silver, the face sensual and +treacherous. It is instructive to compare the results of imagination +associated with powerful fancy in the demons of these great painters, +or even in such nightmares as that of Salvator already spoken of, <a href="#s1c5p12">Sect. +I. Chap. V. § 12</a> (note,) with the simple ugliness of idiotic distortion +in the meaningless terrorless monsters of Bronzino in the large picture +of the Uffizii, where the painter, utterly uninventive, having assembled +all that is abominable of hanging flesh, bony limbs, crane necks, +staring eyes, and straggling hair, cannot yet by the sum and substance +of all obtain as much real fearfulness as an imaginative painter could +throw into the turn of a lip or the knitting of a brow.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_76" href="#FnAnchor_76">[76]</a> I have not thought it necessary to give farther instances at +present, since I purpose hereafter to give numerous examples of this +kind of ideal landscape. Of true and noble landscape, as such, I am +aware of no instances except where least they might have been expected, +among the sea-bred Venetians. Ghirlandajo shows keen, though prosaic, +sense of nature in that view of Venice behind an Adoration of Magi in +the Uffizii, but he at last walled himself up among gilded entablatures. +Masaccio indeed has given one grand example in the fresco of the Tribute +Money, but its color is now nearly lost.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_77" href="#FnAnchor_77">[77]</a> I know not anything in the range of art more unspiritual than the +Apollo Belvidere; the raising of the fingers of the right hand in +surprise at the truth of the arrow is altogether human, and would be +vulgar in a prince, much more in a deity. The sandals destroy the +divinity of the foot, and the lip is curled with mortal passion.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="art" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page225"></a>[Page 225]</span></p> + +<h3>ADDENDA.</h3> + +<p>Although the plan of the present portion of this work does not admit of +particular criticism, it will neither be useless nor irrelevant to refer +to one or two works, lately before the public, in the Exhibitions of the +Royal Academy, which either illustrate, or present exceptions to, any of +the preceding statements. I would first mention, with reference to what +has been advanced respecting the functions of Associative Imagination, +the very important work of Mr. Linnell, the "Eve of the Deluge;" a +picture upheld by its admirers (and these were some of the most +intelligent judges of the day) for a work of consummate imaginative +power; while it was pronounced by the public journals to be "a chaos of +unconcocted color." If the writers for the press had been aware of the +kind of study pursued by Mr. Linnell through many laborious years, +characterized by an observance of nature scrupulously and minutely +patient, directed by the deepest sensibility, and aided by a power of +drawing almost too refined for landscape subjects, and only to be +understood by reference to his engravings after Michael Angelo, they +would have felt it to be unlikely that the work of such a man should be +entirely undeserving of respect. On the other hand, the grounds of its +praise were unfortunately chosen; for, though possessing many merits, it +had no claim whatever to be ranked among productions of Creative art. It +would perhaps be difficult to point to a work so exalted in feeling, and +so deficient in invention. The sky had been strictly taken from nature, +this was evident at a glance; and as a study of sky it was every way +noble. To the purpose of the picture it hardly contributed; its +sublimity was that of splendor, not of terror; and its darkness that of +retreating, not of gathering, storm. The features of the landscape were +devoid alike of variety and probability; the division of the scene by +the central valley and winding river at <span class="pagenum"><a name="page226"></a>[Page 226]</span> once theatrical and +commonplace; and the foreground, on which the light was intense, alike +devoid of dignity in <span class="correction" title="originally arrangemen">arrangement</span>, and of interest in detail.</p> + +<p>The falseness or deficiency of color in the works of Mr. Landseer has +been remarked above. The writer has much pleasure in noticing a very +beautiful exception in the picture of the "Random Shot," certainly the +most successful rendering he has ever seen of the hue of snow under +warm but subdued light. The subtlety of gradation from the portions of +the wreath fully illumined, to those which, feebly tinged by the +horizontal rays, swelled into a dome of dim purple, dark against the +green evening sky; the truth of the blue shadows, with which this dome +was barred, and the depth of delicate color out of which the lights upon +the footprints were raised, deserved the most earnest and serious +admiration; proving, at the same time, that the errors in color, so +frequently to be regretted in the works of the painter, are the result +rather of inattention than of feeble perception. A curious proof of this +inattention occurs in the disposition of the shadows in the background +of the "Old Cover Hack," No. 229. One of its points of light is on the +rusty iron handle of a pump, in the shape of an S. The sun strikes the +greater part of its length, illuminating the perpendicular portion of +the curve; yet shadow is only cast on the wall behind by the returning +portion of the lower extremity. A smile may be excited by the notice of +so trivial a circumstance; but the simplicity of the error renders it +the more remarkable, and the great masters of chiaroscuro are accurate +in all such minor points; a vague sense of greater truth results from +this correctness, even when it is not in particulars analyzed or noted +by the observer. In the small but very valuable Paul Potter in Lord +Westminster's collection, the body of one of the sheep under the hedge +is for the most part in shadow, but the sunlight touches the extremity +of the back. The sun is low, and the shadows feeble and distorted; yet +that of the sunlighted fleece is cast exactly in its true place and +proportion beyond that of the hedge. The spectator may not observe this; +yet, unobserved, it is one of the circumstances which make him feel the +picture to be full of sunshine.</p> + +<p>As an example of perfect color, and of the most refined <span class="pagenum"><a name="page227"></a>[Page 227]</span> +handling ever perhaps exhibited in animal painting, the Butcher's Dog in +the corner of Mr. Mulready's "Butt," No. 160, deserved a whole room of +the Academy to himself. This, with the spaniel in the "Choosing the +Wedding Gown," and the two dogs in the hayfield subject (Burchell and +Sophia), displays perhaps the most wonderful, because the most +dignified, finish in the expression of anatomy and covering—of muscle +and hide at once, and assuredly the most perfect unity of drawing and +color, which the entire range of ancient and modern art can exhibit. +Albert Durer is indeed the only rival who might be suggested; and, +though greater far in imagination, and equal in draughtsmanship, Albert +Durer was less true and less delicate in hue. In sculpturesque +arrangement both masters show the same degree of feeling: any of these +dogs of Mulready might be taken out of the canvas and cut in alabaster, +or, perhaps better, struck upon a coin. Every lock and line of the hair +has been grouped as it is on a Greek die; and if this not always without +some loss of ease and of action, yet this very loss is ennobling, in a +period when all is generally sacrificed to the great coxcombry of art, +the affectation of ease.</p> + +<p>Yet Mr. Mulready himself is not always free from affectation of some +kind; mannerism, at least, there is in his treatment of tree trunks. +There is a ghastliness about his labored anatomies of them, as well as a +want of specific character. Why need they be always flayed? The hide of +a beech tree, or of a birch or fir, is nearly as fair a thing as an +animal's; glossy as a dove's neck barred with black like a zebra, or +glowing in purple grey and velvet brown like furry cattle in sunset. Why +not paint these as Mr. Mulready paints other things, as they are? That +simplest, that deepest of all secrets, which gives such majesty to the +ragged leaves about the edges of the pond in the "Gravel-pit." (No. +125.), and imparts a strange interest to the grey ragged urchins +disappearing behind the bank, that bank so low, so familiar, so sublime! +What a contrast between the deep sentiment of that commonest of all +common, homeliest of all homely, subjects, and the lost sentiment of Mr. +Stanfield's "Amalfi" the chief landscape of the year, full of exalted +material, and mighty crags, and massy seas, grottoes, precipices, and +convents, fortress-towers and cloud-capped mountains, and all in <span class="pagenum"><a name="page228"></a>[Page +228]</span> vain, merely because that same simple secret has been despised; +because nothing there is painted as it is! The picture was a most +singular example of the scenic assemblage of contradictory theme which +is characteristic of Picturesque, as opposed to Poetical, composition. +The lines chosen from Rogers for a titular legend were full of summer, +glowing with golden light, and toned with quiet melancholy:</p> + +<p class="poemq1"> + <span style="padding-left: 5em; ">"To him who sails <br /></span> + Under the shore, a few white villages, <br /> + Scattered above, below, some in the clouds, <br /> + Some on the margin of the dark blue sea, <br /> + And glittering thro' their lemon groves, announce <br /> + The region of Amalfi. Then, half-fallen, <br /> + A lonely watch-tower on the precipice, <br /> + Their ancient landmark, comes—long may it last! <br /> + And to the seaman, in a distant age, <br /> + Though now he little thinks how large his debt, <br /> + Serve for their monument." +</p> + +<p>Prepared by these lines for a dream upon deep, calm waters, under the +shadow and scent of the close lemon leaves, the spectator found himself +placed by the painter, wet through, in a noisy fishing boat, on a +splashing sea, with just as much on his hands as he could manage to keep +her gunwale from being stove in against a black rock; and with a heavy +grey squall to windward. (This squall, by the by, was the very same +which appeared in the picture of the Magra of 1847, and so were the +snowy mountains above; only the squall at Amalfi entered on the left, +and at the Magra on the right.) Now the scenery of Amalfi is impressive +alike in storm or calm, and the writer has seen the Mediterranean as +majestic and as southern-looking in its rage as in its rest. But it is +treating both the green water and woods unfairly to destroy their peace +without expressing their power; and withdraw from them their sadness and +their sun, without the substitution of any effect more terrific than +that of a squall at the Nore. The snow on the distant mountains chilled +what it could not elevate, and was untrue to the scene besides; there is +no snow on the Monte St. Angelo in summer except what is kept for the +Neapolitan confectioners. The great merit of the picture was its +rock-painting; too good <span class="pagenum"><a name="page229"></a>[Page 229]</span> to have required the aid of the +exaggeration of forms which satiated the eye throughout the composition.</p> + +<p>Mr. F. R. Pickersgill's "Contest of Beauty" (No. 515.), and Mr. Uwins's +"Vineyard Scene in the South of France," were, after Mr. Mulready's +works, among the most interesting pieces of color in the Exhibition. The +former, very rich and sweet in its harmonies, and especially happy in +its contrasts of light and dark armor; nor less in the fancy of the +little Love who, losing his hold of the orange boughs, was falling +ignominiously without having time to open his wings. The latter was a +curious example of what I have described as abstraction of color. +Strictly true or possible it was not; a vintage is usually a dusty and +dim-looking procedure; but there were poetry and feeling in Mr. Uwins's +idealization of the sombre black of the veritable grape into a luscious +ultramarine purple, glowing among the green leaves like so much painted +glass. The figures were bright and graceful in the extreme and most +happily grouped. Little else that could be called color was to be seen +upon the walls of the Exhibition, with the exception of the smaller +works of Mr. Etty. Of these, the single head, "Morning Prayer," (No. +25.), and the "Still Life" (No. 73.), deserved, allowing for their +peculiar aim, the highest praise. The larger subjects, more especially +the St. John, were wanting in the merits peculiar to the painter; and in +other respects it is alike painful and useless to allude to them. A very +important and valuable work of Mr. Harding was placed, as usual, where +its merits could be but ill seen, and where its chief fault, a +feebleness of color in the principal light on the distant hills, was +apparent. It was one of the very few views of the year which were +transcripts, nearly without exaggeration, of the features of the +localities.</p> + +<p>Among the less conspicuous landscapes, Mr. W. E. Dighton's "Hay Meadow +Corner" deserved especial notice; it was at once vigorous, fresh, +faithful, and unpretending, the management of the distance most +ingenious, and the painting of the foreground, with the single exception +of Mr. Mulready's above noticed, unquestionably the best in the room. I +have before had occasion to notice a picture by this artist, "A Hayfield +in a Shower," exhibited in the British Institution in 1847, and this +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page230"></a>[Page 230]</span> year (1848) in the Scottish Academy, whose sky, in qualities +of rainy, shattered, transparent grey, I have seldom seen equalled; nor +the mist of its distance, expressive alike of previous heat and present +heat of rain. I look with much interest for other works by this painter.</p> + +<p>A hurried visit to Scotland in the spring of this year, while it enables +the writer to acknowledge the ardor and genius manifested in very many +of the works exhibited in the Scottish Academy, cannot be considered as +furnishing him with sufficient grounds for specific criticism. He +cannot, however, err in testifying his concurrence in the opinion +expressed to him by several of the most distinguished members of that +Academy, respecting the singular merit of the works of Mr. H. Drummond. +A cabinet picture of "Banditti on the Watch," appeared to him one of the +most masterly, unaffected, and sterling pieces of quiet painting he has +ever seen from the hand of a living artist; and the other works of Mr. +Drummond were alike remarkable for their manly and earnest finish, and +their sweetness of feeling.</p> +<hr class="art" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Modern Painters Volume II (of V), by John Ruskin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN PAINTERS VOLUME II (OF V) *** + +***** This file should be named 29906-h.htm or 29906-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/9/0/29906/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marius Borror 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. 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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: Modern Painters Volume II (of V) + +Author: John Ruskin + +Release Date: September 4, 2009 [EBook #29906] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN PAINTERS VOLUME II (OF V) *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marius Borror and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +Transcriber's notes: A few typographical errors have been corrected: they +are listed at the end of the text. + +Chapter headings were originally constructed as side-notes. They were +placed here at the head of their respective paragraphs, and moved to +paragraph's start where given at paragraph's middle. See HTML version +for the original headers placement. + + + + +[Illustration: LANDSCAPE FROM A PAINTING BY J. M. W. TURNER] + + + Library Edition + + THE COMPLETE WORKS + + OF + + JOHN RUSKIN + + + MODERN PAINTERS + VOLUME II--OF TRUTH AND THEORETIC + FACULTIES + _Volume III_--OF MANY THINGS + + + NATIONAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION + NEW YORK CHICAGO + + + + + MODERN PAINTERS. + + VOLUME II., + + CONTAINING + + PART III., + + SECTIONS I. AND II. + + OF THE IMAGINATIVE AND THEORETIC FACULTIES. + + + + + SYNOPSIS OF CONTENTS. + + PART III. + + OF IDEAS OF BEAUTY. + + + + SECTION I. + + OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + +CHAPTER I.--Of the Rank and Relations of the Theoretic Faculty. + PAGE + Sec. 1. With what care the subject is to be approached. 1 + Sec. 2. And of what importance considered. 2 + Sec. 3. The doubtful force of the term "utility". 3 + Sec. 4. Its proper sense. 4 + Sec. 5. How falsely applied in these times. 4 + Sec. 6. The evil consequences of such interpretation. How connected + with national power. 5 + Sec. 7. How to be averted. 6 + Sec. 8. Division of the pursuits of men into subservient and objective. 8 + Sec. 9. Their relative dignities. 10 + Sec. 10. How reversed through erring notions of the contemplative + and imaginative faculties. 10 + Sec. 11. Object of the present section. 11 + + +CHAPTER II.--Of the Theoretic Faculty as concerned with Pleasures of + Sense. + + Sec. 1. Explanation of the term "theoretic". 12 + Sec. 2. Of the differences of rank in pleasures of sense. 12 + Sec. 3. Use of the terms Temperate and Intemperate. 13 + Sec. 4. Right use of the term "intemperate". 13 + Sec. 5. Grounds of inferiority in the pleasures which are subjects of + intemperance. 14 + Sec. 6. Evidence of higher rank in pleasures of sight and hearing. 15 + Sec. 7. How the lower pleasures may be elevated in rank. 16 + Sec. 8. Ideas of beauty how essentially moral. 17 + Sec. 9. How degraded by heartless reception. 17 + Sec. 10. How exalted by affection. 18 + + +CHAPTER III.--Of Accuracy and Inaccuracy in Impressions of Sense. + + Sec. 1. By what test is the health of the perceptive faculty to be + determined? 19 + Sec. 2. And in what sense may the terms Right and Wrong be attached + to its conclusions? 20 + Sec. 3. What power we have over impressions of sense. 21 + Sec. 4. Depends on acuteness of attention. 21 + Sec. 5. Ultimate conclusions universal. 22 + Sec. 6. What duty is attached to this power over impressions of sense. 22 + Sec. 7. How rewarded. 23 + Sec. 8. Especially with respect to ideas of beauty. 23 + Sec. 9. Errors induced by the power of habit. 24 + Sec. 10. The necessity of submission in early stages of judgment. 24 + Sec. 11. The large scope of matured judgment. 25 + Sec. 12. How distinguishable from false taste. 25 + Sec. 13. The danger of a spirit of choice. 26 + Sec. 14. And criminality. 27 + Sec. 15. How certain conclusions respecting beauty are by reason + demonstrable. 27 + Sec. 16. With what liabilities to error. 28 + Sec. 17. The term "beauty" how limitable in the outset. Divided + into typical and vital. 28 + + +CHAPTER IV.--Of False Opinions held concerning Beauty. + + Sec. 1. Of the false opinion that truth is beauty, and vice versa. 30 + Sec. 2. Of the false opinion that beauty is usefulness. Compare + Chap. xii. Sec. 5. 31 + Sec. 3. Of the false opinion that beauty results from custom. Compare + Chap. vi. Sec. 1. 31 + Sec. 4. The twofold operation of custom. It deadens sensation, but + confirms affection. 31 + Sec. 5. But never either creates or destroys the essence of beauty. 32 + Sec. 6. Instances. 32 + Sec. 7. Of the false opinion that beauty depends on the association of + ideas. 33 + Sec. 8. Association. Is, 1st, rational. It is of no efficiency as a + cause of beauty. 33 + Sec. 9. Association accidental. The extent of its influence. 34 + Sec. 10. The dignity of its function. 35 + Sec. 11. How it is connected with impressions of beauty. 36 + Sec. 12. And what caution it renders necessary in the examination of + them. 36 + + +CHAPTER V.--Of Typical Beauty:--First, of Infinity, or the Type of + Divine Incomprehensibility. + + Sec. 1. Impossibility of adequately treating the subject. 38 + Sec. 2. With what simplicity of feeling to be approached. 38 + Sec. 3. The child instinct respecting space. 39 + Sec. 4. Continued in after life. 40 + Sec. 5. Whereto this instinct is traceable. 40 + Sec. 6. Infinity how necessary in art. 41 + Sec. 7. Conditions of its necessity. 42 + Sec. 8. And connected analogies. 42 + Sec. 9. How the dignity of treatment is proportioned to the expression + of infinity. 43 + Sec. 10. Examples among the Southern schools. 44 + Sec. 11. Among the Venetians. 44 + Sec. 12. Among the painters of landscape. 45 + Sec. 13. Other modes in which the power of infinity is felt. 45 + Sec. 14. The beauty of curvature. 46 + Sec. 15. How constant in external nature. 46 + Sec. 16. The beauty of gradation. 47 + Sec. 17. How found in nature. 47 + Sec. 18. How necessary in Art. 48 + Sec. 19. Infinity not rightly implied by vastness. 49 + + +CHAPTER VI.--Of Unity, or the Type of the Divine Comprehensiveness. + + Sec. 1. The general conception of divine Unity. 50 + Sec. 2. The glory of all things is their Unity. 50 + Sec. 3. The several kinds of unity. Subjectional. Original. Of + sequence, and of membership. 51 + Sec. 4 Unity of membership. How secured. 52 + Sec. 5. Variety. Why required. 53 + Sec. 6. Change, and its influence on beauty. 54 + Sec. 7. The love of change. How morbid and evil. 55 + Sec. 8. The conducing of variety towards unity of subjection. 55 + Sec. 9. And towards unity of sequence. 57 + Sec. 10. The nature of proportion. 1st, of apparent proportion. 57 + Sec. 11. The value of apparent proportion in curvature. 60 + Sec. 12. How by nature obtained. 61 + Sec. 13. Apparent proportion in melodies of line. 61 + Sec. 14. Error of Burke in this matter. 62 + Sec. 15. Constructive proportion. Its influence in plants. 63 + Sec. 16. And animals. 64 + Sec. 17. Summary. 64 + + +CHAPTER VII.--Of Repose, or the Type of Divine Permanence. + + Sec. 1. Universal feeling respecting the necessity of repose in art. + Its sources. 65 + Sec. 2. Repose how expressed in matter. 66 + Sec. 3. The necessity to repose of an implied energy. 66 + Sec. 4. Mental repose, how noble. 67 + Sec. 5. Its universal value as a test of art. 68 + Sec. 6. Instances in the Laocoon and Theseus. 69 + Sec. 7. And in altar tombs. 70 + + +CHAPTER VIII.--Of Symmetry, or the Type of Divine Justice. + + Sec. 1. Symmetry, what and how found in organic nature. 72 + Sec. 2. How necessary in art. 72 + Sec. 3. To what its agreeableness is referable. Various instances. 73 + Sec. 4. Especially in religious art. 73 + + +CHAPTER IX.--Of Purity, or the Type of Divine Energy. + + Sec. 1. The influence of light as a sacred symbol. 75 + Sec. 2. The idea of purity connected with it. 75 + Sec. 3. Originally derived from conditions of matter. 76 + Sec. 4. Associated ideas adding to the power of the impression. + Influence of clearness. 76 + Sec. 5. Perfect beauty of surface, in what consisting. 77 + Sec. 6. Purity only metaphorically a type of sinlessness. 78 + Sec. 7. Energy, how expressed by purity of matter. 79 + Sec. 8. And of color. 79 + Sec. 9. Spirituality, how so expressed. 79 + + +CHAPTER X.--Of Moderation, or the Type of Government by Law. + + Sec. 1. Meaning of the terms Chasteness and Refinement. 81 + Sec. 2. How referable to temporary fashions. 81 + Sec. 3. How to the perception of completion. 81 + Sec. 4. Finish, by great masters esteemed essential. 82 + Sec. 5. Moderation, its nature and value. 84 + Sec. 6. It is the girdle of beauty. 84 + Sec. 7. How found in natural curves and colors. 84 + Sec. 8. How difficult of attainment, yet essential to all good. 85 + + +CHAPTER XI.--General Inferences respecting Typical Beauty. + + Sec. 1. The subject incompletely treated, yet admitting of general + conclusions. 86 + Sec. 2. Typical beauty not created for man's sake. 87 + Sec. 3. But degrees of it for his sake admitted. 87 + Sec. 4. What encouragement hence to be received. 87 + + +CHAPTER XII.--Of Vital Beauty:--First, as Relative. + + Sec. 1. Transition from typical to vital Beauty. 89 + Sec. 2. The perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with + vital beauty, is charity. 90 + Sec. 3. Only with respect to plants, less affection than sympathy. 91 + Sec. 4. Which is proportioned to the appearance of energy in the + plants. 92 + Sec. 5. This sympathy is unselfish, and does not regard utility. 93 + Sec. 6. Especially with respect to animals. 94 + Sec. 7. And it is destroyed by evidences of mechanism. 95 + Sec. 8. The second perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned + with life is justice of moral judgment. 96 + Sec. 9. How impeded. 97 + Sec. 10. The influence of moral signs in expression. 97 + Sec. 11. As also in plants. 99 + Sec. 12. Recapitulation. 100 + + +CHAPTER XIII.--Of Vital Beauty:--Secondly, as Generic. + + Sec. 1. The beauty of fulfilment of appointed function in every + animal. 101 + Sec. 2. The two senses of the word "ideal." Either it refers to + action of the imagination. 102 + Sec. 3. Or to perfection of type. 103 + Sec. 4. This last sense how inaccurate, yet to be retained. 103 + Sec. 5. Of Ideal form. First, in the lower animals. 104 + Sec. 6. In what consistent. 104 + Sec. 7. Ideal form in vegetables. 105 + Sec. 8. The difference of position between plants and animals. 105 + Sec. 9. Admits of variety in the ideal of the former. 106 + Sec. 10. Ideal form in vegetables destroyed by cultivation. 107 + Sec. 11. Instance in the Soldanella and Ranunculus. 108 + Sec. 12. The beauty of repose and felicity, how consistent with such + ideal. 108 + Sec. 13. The ideality of Art. 109 + Sec. 14. How connected with the imaginative faculties. 109 + Sec. 15. Ideality, how belonging to ages and conditions. 110 + + +CHAPTER XIV.--Of Vital Beauty:--Thirdly, in Man. + + Sec. 1. Condition of the human creature entirely different from that + of the lower animals. 111 + Sec. 2. What room here for idealization. 111 + Sec. 3. How the conception of the bodily ideal is reached. 112 + Sec. 4. Modifications of the bodily ideal owing to influence of mind. + First, of intellect. 113 + Sec. 5. Secondly, of the moral feelings. 113 + Sec. 6. What beauty is bestowed by them. 115 + Sec. 7. How the soul culture interferes harmfully with the bodily + ideal. 115 + Sec. 8. The inconsistency among the effects of the mental virtues on + the form. 116 + Sec. 9. Is a sign of God's kind purpose towards the race. 116 + Sec. 10. Consequent separation and difference of ideals. 117 + Sec. 11. The _effects_ of the Adamite curse are to be + distinguished from signs of its immediate activity. 118 + Sec. 12. Which latter only are to be banished from ideal form. 118 + Sec. 13. Ideal form is only to be obtained by portraiture. 119 + Sec. 14. Instances among the greater of the ideal Masters. 119 + Sec. 15. Evil results of opposite practice in modern times. 120 + Sec. 16. The right use of the model. 121 + Sec. 17. Ideal form to be reached only by love. 121 + Sec. 18. Practical principles deducible. 122 + Sec. 19. Expressions chiefly destructive of ideal character. 1st, + Pride. 122 + Sec. 20. Portraiture ancient and modern. 123 + Sec. 21. Secondly, Sensuality. 123 + Sec. 22. How connected with impurity of color. 124 + Sec. 23. And prevented by its splendor. 124 + Sec. 24. Or by severity of drawing. 125 + Sec. 25. Degrees of descent in this respect: Rubens, Correggio, and + Guido. 125 + Sec. 26. And modern art. 126 + Sec. 27. Thirdly, ferocity and fear. The latter how to be distinguished + from awe. 126 + Sec. 28. Holy fear, how distinct from human terror. 127 + Sec. 29. Ferocity is joined always with fear. Its unpardonableness. 127 + Sec. 30. Such expressions how sought by painters powerless and impious. 128 + Sec. 31. Of passion generally. 129 + Sec. 32. It is never to be for itself exhibited--at least on the face. 130 + Sec. 33. Recapitulation. 131 + + +CHAPTER XV.--General Conclusions respecting the Theoretic Faculty. + + Sec. 1. There are no sources of the emotion of beauty more than those + found in things visible. 133 + Sec. 2. What imperfection exists in visible things. How in a sort by + imagination removable. 134 + Sec. 3. Which however affects not our present conclusions. 134 + Sec. 4. The four sources from which the pleasure of beauty is derived + are all divine. 134 + Sec. 5. What objections may be made to this conclusion. 135 + Sec. 6. Typical beauty may be aesthetically pursued. Instances. 135 + Sec. 7. How interrupted by false feeling. 136 + Sec. 8. Greatness and truth are sometimes by the Deity sustained and + spoken in and through evil men. 137 + Sec. 9. The second objection arising from the coldness of Christian + men to external beauty. 138 + Sec. 10. Reasons for this coldness in the anxieties of the world. These + anxieties overwrought and criminal. 139 + Sec. 11. Evil consequences of such coldness. 140 + Sec. 12. Theoria the service of Heaven. 140 + + + + + SECTION II. + + OF THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY. + + +CHAPTER I.--Of the Three Forms of Imagination. + + Sec. 1. A partial examination only of the imagination is to be + attempted. 142 + Sec. 2. The works of the metaphysicians how nugatory with respect + to this faculty. 143 + Sec. 3. The definition of D. Stewart, how inadequate. 143 + Sec. 4. This instance nugatory. 144 + Sec. 5. Various instances. 145 + Sec. 6. The three operations of the imagination. Penetrative, + associative, contemplative. 146 + + +CHAPTER II.--Of Imagination Associative. + + Sec. 1. Of simple conception. 147 + Sec. 2. How connected with verbal knowledge. 148 + Sec. 3. How used in composition. 148 + Sec. 4. Characteristics of composition. 149 + Sec. 5. What powers are implied by it. The first of the three + functions of fancy. 150 + Sec. 6. Imagination not yet manifested. 150 + Sec. 7. Imagination is the correlative conception of imperfect + component parts. 151 + Sec. 8. Material analogy with imagination. 151 + Sec. 9. The grasp and dignity of imagination. 152 + Sec. 10. Its limits. 153 + Sec. 11. How manifested in treatment of uncertain relations. Its + deficiency illustrated. 154 + Sec. 12. Laws of art, the safeguard of the unimaginative. 155 + Sec. 13. Are by the imaginative painter despised. Tests of imagination. 155 + Sec. 14. The monotony of unimaginative treatment. 156 + Sec. 15. Imagination never repeats itself. 157 + Sec. 16. Relation of the imaginative faculty to the theoretic. 157 + Sec. 17. Modification of its manifestation. 158 + Sec. 18. Instances of absence of imagination.--Claude, Gaspar Poussin. 158 + Sec. 19. Its presence.--Salvator, Nicolo Poussin, Titian, Tintoret. 159 + Sec. 20. And Turner. 160 + Sec. 21. The due function of Associative imagination with respect to + nature. 161 + Sec. 22. The sign of imaginative work is its appearance of absolute + truth. 161 + + +CHAPTER III.--Of Imagination Penetrative. + + Sec. 1. Imagination penetrative is concerned not with the combining + but apprehending of things. 163 + Sec. 2. Milton's and Dante's description of flame. 163 + Sec. 3. The imagination seizes always by the innermost point. 164 + Sec. 4. It acts intuitively and without reasoning. 165 + Sec. 5. Signs of it in language. 165 + Sec. 6. Absence of imagination, how shown. 166 + Sec. 7. Distinction between imagination and fancy. 166 + Sec. 8. Fancy how involved with imagination. 168 + Sec. 9. Fancy is never serious. 169 + Sec. 10. Want of seriousness the bar to high art at the present time. 169 + Sec. 11. Imagination is quiet; fancy, restless. 170 + Sec. 12. The detailing operation of fancy. 170 + Sec. 13. And suggestive, of the imagination. 171 + Sec. 14. This suggestiveness how opposed to vacancy. 172 + Sec. 15. Imagination addresses itself to imagination. 173 + Instances from the works of Tintoret. 173 + Sec. 16. The entombment. 174 + Sec. 17. The Annunciation. 174 + Sec. 18. The Baptism of Christ. Its treatment by various painters. 176 + Sec. 19. By Tintoret. 177 + Sec. 20. The Crucifixion. 178 + Sec. 21. The Massacre of innocents. 179 + Sec. 22. Various works in the Scuola di San Rocco. 181 + Sec. 23. The Last Judgment. How treated by various painters. 181 + Sec. 24. By Tintoret. 182 + Sec. 25. The imaginative verity, how distinguished from realism. 183 + Sec. 26. The imagination how manifested in sculpture. 184 + Sec. 27. Bandinelli, Canova, Mino da Fiesole. 184 + Sec. 28. Michael Angelo. 185 + Sec. 29. Recapitulation. The perfect function of the imagination is + the intuitive perception of ultimate truth. 188 + Sec. 30. Imagination how vulgarly understood. 190 + Sec. 31. How its cultivation is dependent on the moral feelings. 190 + Sec. 32. On independence of mind. 191 + Sec. 33. And on habitual reference to nature. 191 + + +CHAPTER IV.--Of Imagination Contemplative. + + Sec. 1. Imagination contemplative is not part of the essence, but only + a habit or mode of the faculty. 192 + Sec. 2. The ambiguity of conception. 192 + Sec. 3. Is not in itself capable of adding to the charm of fair + things. 193 + Sec. 4. But gives to the imagination its regardant power over them. 194 + Sec. 5. The third office of fancy distinguished from imagination + contemplative. 195 + Sec. 6. Various instances. 197 + Sec. 7. Morbid or nervous fancy. 200 + Sec. 8. The action of contemplative imagination is not to be expressed + by art. 201 + Sec. 9. Except under narrow limits.--1st. Abstract rendering of + form without color. 201 + Sec. 10. Of color without form. 202 + Sec. 11. Or of both without texture. 202 + Sec. 12. Abstraction or typical representation of animal form. 203 + Sec. 13. Either when it is symbolically used. 204 + Sec. 14. Or in architectural decoration. 205 + Sec. 15. Exception in delicate and superimposed ornament. 206 + Sec. 16. Abstraction necessary from imperfection of materials. 206 + Sec. 17. Abstractions of things capable of varied accident are not + imaginative. 207 + Sec. 18. Yet sometimes valuable. 207 + Sec. 19. Exaggeration. Its laws and limits. First, in scale of + representation. 208 + Sec. 20. Secondly, of things capable of variety of scale. 209 + Sec. 21. Thirdly, necessary in expression of characteristic features on + diminished scale. 210 + Sec. 22. Recapitulation. 211 + + +CHAPTER V.--Of the Superhuman Ideal. + + Sec. 1. The subject is not to be here treated in detail. 212 + Sec. 2. The conceivable modes of manifestation of Spiritual Beings + are four. 212 + Sec. 3. And these are in or through creature forms familiar to us. 213 + Sec. 4. Supernatural character may be impressed on these either by + phenomena inconsistent with their common nature (compare + Chap. iv. Sec. 16). 213 + Sec. 5. Or by inherent Dignity. 213 + Sec. 6. 1st. Of the expression of inspiration. 214 + Sec. 7. No representation of that which is more than creature is + possible. 215 + Sec. 8. Supernatural character expressed by modification of + accessories. 216 + Sec. 9. Landscape of the religious painters. Its character is + eminently symmetrical. 217 + Sec. 10. Landscape of Benozzo Gozzoli. 217 + Sec. 11. Landscape of Perugino and Raffaelle. 218 + Sec. 12. Such Landscape is not to be imitated. 218 + Sec. 13. Color, and Decoration. Their use in representations of the + Supernatural. 219 + Sec. 14. Decoration so used must be generic. 220 + Sec. 15. And color pure. 220 + Sec. 16. Ideal form of the body itself, of what variety susceptible. 221 + Sec. 17. Anatomical development how far admissible. 221 + Sec. 18. Symmetry. How valuable. 221 + Sec. 19. The influence of Greek art, how dangerous. 222 + Sec. 20. Its scope, how limited. 223 + Sec. 21. Conclusion. 224 + + +ADDENDA. 225 + + + + + LIST OF PLATES TO VOLUME II. + + + + _Page._ + + Court of the Ducal Palace, Venice 10 + From a drawing by Ruskin. + + Tomb of the Ilaria di Caretto, Lucca 72 + From a photograph. + + The Adoration of the Magi 158 + From a painting by Ruskin, after Tintoret. + + Study of Stone Pine, at Sestri 198 + From a drawing by Ruskin. + + + + + PART III. + + OF IDEAS OF BEAUTY. + + SECTION I. + + OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + OF THE RANK AND RELATIONS OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + +Sec. 1. With what care the subject is to be approached. + +Although the hasty execution and controversial tone of the former +portions of this essay have been subjects of frequent regret to the +writer, yet the one was in some measure excusable in a work referred to +a temporary end, and the other unavoidable, in one directed against +particular opinions. Nor are either of any necessary detriment to its +availableness as a foundation for more careful and extended survey, in +so far as its province was confined to the assertion of obvious and +visible facts, the verification of which could in no degree be dependent +either on the care with which they might be classed, or the temper in +which they were regarded. Not so with respect to the investigation now +before us, which, being not of things outward, and sensibly +demonstrable, but of the value and meaning of mental impressions, must +be entered upon with a modesty and cautiousness proportioned to the +difficulty of determining the likeness, or community of such +impressions, as they are received by different men, and with seriousness +proportioned to the importance of rightly regarding those faculties over +which we have moral power, and therefore in relation to which we +assuredly incur a moral responsibility. There is not the thing left to +the choice of man to do or not to do, but there is some sort of degree +of duty involved in his determination; and by how much the more, +therefore, our subject becomes embarrassed by the cross influences of +variously admitted passion, administered discipline, or encouraged +affection, upon the minds of men, by so much the more it becomes matter +of weight and import to observe by what laws we should be guided, and of +what responsibilities regardful, in all that we admit, administer, or +encourage. + + +Sec. 2. And of what importance considered. + +Nor indeed have I ever, even in the preceding sections, spoken with +levity, though sometimes perhaps with rashness. I have never treated the +subject as other than demanding heedful and serious examination, and +taking high place among those which justify as they reward our utmost +ardor and earnestness of pursuit. That it justifies them must be my +present task to prove; that it demands them has never been doubted. Art, +properly so called, is no recreation; it cannot be learned at spare +moments, nor pursued when we have nothing better to do. It is no +handiwork for drawing-room tables; no relief of the ennui of boudoirs; +it must be understood and undertaken seriously or not at all. To advance +it men's lives must be given, and to receive it their hearts. "Le +peintre Rubens s'amuse a etre ambassadeur," said one with whom, but for +his own words, we might have thought that effort had been absorbed in +power, and the labor of his art in its felicity.--"E faticoso lo studio +della pittura, et sempre si fa il mare maggiore," said he, who of all +men was least likely to have left us discouraging report of anything +that majesty of intellect could grasp, or continuity of labor +overcome.[1] But that this labor, the necessity of which in all ages has +been most frankly admitted by the greatest men, is justifiable in a +moral point of view, that it is not the pouring out of men's lives upon +the ground, that it has functions of usefulness addressed to the +weightiest of human interests, and that the objects of it have calls +upon us which it is inconsistent alike with our human dignity and our +heavenward duty to disobey--has never been boldly asserted nor fairly +admitted; least of all is it likely to be so in these days of dispatch +and display, where vanity, on the one side, supplies the place of that +love of art which is the only effective patronage, and on the other, of +the incorruptible and earnest pride which no applause, no reprobation, +can blind to its shortcomings nor beguile of its hope. + +And yet it is in the expectation of obtaining at least a partial +acknowledgment of this, as a truth influential both of aim and conduct, +that I enter upon the second division of my subject. The time I have +already devoted to the task I should have considered altogether +inordinate, and that which I fear may be yet required for its completion +would have been cause to me of utter discouragement, but that the object +I propose to myself is of no partial nor accidental importance. It is +not now to distinguish between disputed degrees of ability in +individuals, or agreeableness in canvases, it is not now to expose the +ignorance or defend the principles of party or person. It is to summon +the moral energies of the nation to a forgotten duty, to display the +use, force, and function of a great body of neglected sympathies and +desires, and to elevate to its healthy and beneficial operation that art +which, being altogether addressed to them, rises or falls with their +variableness of vigor,--now leading them with Tyrtaean fire, now singing +them to sleep with baby murmurings. + + +Sec. 3. The doubtful force of the term "utility." + +Only as I fear that with many of us the recommendation of our own +favorite pursuits is rooted more in conceit of ourselves, than affection +towards others, so that sometimes in our very pointing of the way, we +had rather that the intricacy of it should be admired than unfolded, +whence a natural distrust of such recommendation may well have place in +the minds of those who have not yet perceived any value in the thing +praised, and because also, men in the present century understand the +word Useful in a strange way, or at least (for the word has been often +so accepted from the beginning of time) since in these days, they act +its more limited meaning farther out, and give to it more practical +weight and authority, it will be well in the outset that I define +exactly what kind of utility I mean to attribute to art, and especially +to that branch of it which is concerned with those impressions of +external beauty whose nature it is our present object to discover. + + +Sec. 4. Its proper sense. + +That is to everything created, pre-eminently useful, which enables it +rightly and fully to perform the functions appointed to it by its +Creator. Therefore, that we may determine what is chiefly useful to man, +it is necessary first to determine the use of man himself. + +Man's use and function (and let him who will not grant me this follow me +no farther, for this I purpose always to assume) is to be the witness of +the glory of God, and to advance that glory by his reasonable obedience +and resultant happiness. + +Whatever enables us to fulfil this function, is in the pure and first +sense of the word useful to us. Pre-eminently therefore whatever sets +the glory of God more brightly before us. But things that only help us +to exist, are in a secondary and mean sense, useful, or rather, if they +be looked for alone, they are useless and worse, for it would be better +that we should not exist, than that we should guiltily disappoint the +purposes of existence. + + +Sec. 5. How falsely applied in these times. + +And yet people speak in this working age, when they speak from their +hearts, as if houses, and lands, and food, and raiment were alone +useful, and as if sight, thought, and admiration,[2] were all +profitless, so that men insolently call themselves Utilitarians, who +would turn, if they had their way, themselves and their race into +vegetables; men who think, as far as such can be said to think, that the +meat is more than the life, and the raiment than the body, who look to +the earth as a stable, and to its fruit as fodder; vinedressers and +husbandmen, who love the corn they grind, and the grapes they crush, +better than the gardens of the angels upon the slopes of Eden; hewers of +wood and drawers of water, who think that the wood they hew and the +water they draw, are better than the pine-forests that cover the +mountains like the shadow of God, and than the great rivers that move +like his eternity. And so comes upon us that woe of the preacher, that +though God "hath made everything beautiful in his time, also he hath set +the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God +maketh from the beginning to the end." + + +Sec. 6. The evil consequences of such interpretation. How connected with + national power. + +This Nebuchadnezzar curse, that sends us to grass like oxen, seems to +follow but too closely on the excess or continuance of national power +and peace. In the perplexities of nations, in their struggles for +existence, in their infancy, their impotence, or even their +disorganization, they have higher hopes and nobler passions. Out of the +suffering comes the serious mind; out of the salvation, the grateful +heart; out of the endurance, the fortitude; out of the deliverance, the +faith; but now when they have learned to live under providence of laws, +and with decency and justice of regard for each other; and when they +have done away with violent and external sources of suffering, worse +evils seem arising out of their rest, evils that vex less and mortify +more, that suck the blood though they do not shed it, and ossify the +heart though they do not torture it. And deep though the causes of +thankfulness must be to every people at peace with others and at unity +in itself, there are causes of fear also, a fear greater than of sword +and sedition; that dependence on God may be forgotten because the bread +is given and the water is sure, that gratitude to him may cease because +his constancy of protection has taken the semblance of a natural law, +that heavenly hope may grow faint amidst the full fruition of the world, +that selfishness may take place of undemanded devotion, compassion be +lost in vain-glory, and love in dissimulation,[3] that enervation may +succeed to strength, apathy to patience, and the noise of jesting words +and foulness of dark thoughts, to the earnest purity of the girded loins +and the burning lamp. About the river of human life there is a wintry +wind, though a heavenly sunshine; the iris colors its agitation, the +frost fixes upon its repose. Let us beware that our rest become not the +rest of stones, which so long as they are torrent-tossed, and +thunder-stricken, maintain their majesty, but when the stream is silent, +and the storm passed, suffer the grass to cover them and the lichen to +feed on them, and are ploughed down into dust. + + +Sec. 7. How to be averted. + +And though I believe that we have salt enough of ardent and holy mind +amongst us to keep us in some measure from this moral decay, yet the +signs of it must be watched with anxiety, in all matter however trivial, +in all directions however distant. And at this time, when the iron roads +are tearing up the surface of Europe, as grapeshot do the sea, when +their great sagene is drawing and twitching the ancient frame and +strength of England together, contracting all its various life, its +rocky arms and rural heart, into a narrow, finite, calculating +metropolis of manufactures, when there is not a monument throughout the +cities of Europe, that speaks of old years and mighty people, but it is +being swept away to build cafes and gaming-houses;[4] when the honor of +God is thought to consist in the poverty of his temple, and the column +is shortened, and the pinnacle shattered, the color denied to the +casement, and the marble to the altar, while exchequers are exhausted in +luxury of boudoirs, and pride of reception-rooms; when we ravage without +a pause all the loveliness of creation which God in giving pronounced +good, and destroy without a thought all those labors which men have +given their lives, and their sons' sons' lives to complete, and have +left for a legacy to all their kind, a legacy of more than their hearts' +blood, for it is of their souls' travail, there is need, bitter need, to +bring back, if we may, into men's minds, that to live is nothing, +unless to live be to know Him by whom we live, and that he is not to be +known by marring his fair works, and blotting out the evidence of his +influences upon his creatures, not amid the hurry of crowds and crash of +innovation, but in solitary places, and out of the glowing intelligences +which he gave to men of old. He did not teach them how to build for +glory and for beauty, he did not give them the fearless, faithful, +inherited energies that worked on and down from death to death, +generation after generation, that we, foul and sensual as we are, might +give the carved work of their poured-out spirit to the axe and the +hammer; he has not cloven the earth with rivers, that their white wild +waves might turn wheels and push paddles, nor turned it up under as it +were fire, that it might heat wells and cure diseases; he brings not up +his quails by the east wind, only to let them fall in flesh about the +camp of men: he has not heaped the rocks of the mountain only for the +quarry, nor clothed the grass of the field only for the oven. + + +Sec. 8. Division of the pursuits of men into subservient and objective. + +All science and all art may be divided into that which is subservient to +life, and which is the object of it. As subservient to life, or +practical, their results are, in the common sense of the word, useful. +As the object of life or theoretic, they are, in the common sense, +useless; and yet the step between practical and theoretic science is the +step between the miner and the geologist, the apothecary and the +chemist; and the step between practical and theoretic art is that +between the bricklayer and the architect, between the plumber and the +artist, and this is a step allowed on all hands to be from less to +greater; so that the so-called useless part of each profession does by +the authoritative and right instinct of mankind assume the superior and +more noble place, even though books be sometimes written, and that by +writers of no ordinary mind, which assume that a chemist is rewarded for +the years of toil which have traced the greater part of the combinations +of matter to their ultimate atoms, by discovering a cheap way of +refining sugar, and date the eminence of the philosopher, whose life has +been spent in the investigation of the laws of light, from the time of +his inventing an improvement in spectacles. + +But the common consent of men proves and accepts the proposition, that +whatever part of any pursuit ministers to the bodily comforts, and +admits of material uses, is ignoble, and whatsoever part is addressed to +the mind only, is noble; and that geology does better in reclothing dry +bones and revealing lost creations, than in tracing veins of lead and +beds of iron; astronomy better in opening to us the houses of heaven +than in teaching navigation; botany better in displaying structure than +in expressing juices; surgery better in investigating organization than +in setting limbs; only it is ordained that, for our encouragement, every +step we make in the more exalted range of science adds something also to +its practical applicabilities; that all the great phenomena of nature, +the knowledge of which is desired by the angels only, by us partly, as +it reveals to farther vision the being and the glory of Him in whom they +rejoice and we live, dispense yet such kind influences and so much of +material blessing as to be joyfully felt by all inferior creatures, and +to be desired by them with such single desire as the imperfection of +their nature may admit;[5] that the strong torrents which, in their own +gladness fill the hills with hollow thunder and the vales with winding +light, have yet their bounden charge of field to feed and barge to bear; +that the fierce flames to which the Alp owes its upheaval and the +volcano its terror, temper for us the metal vein and quickening spring; +and that for our incitement, I say not our reward, for knowledge is its +own reward, herbs have their healing, stones their preciousness, and +stars their times. + + +Sec. 9. Their relative dignities. + +Sec. 10. How reversed through erring notions of the contemplative and + imaginative faculties. + +It would appear, therefore, that those pursuits which are altogether +theoretic, whose results are desirable or admirable in themselves and +for their own sake, and in which no farther end to which their +productions or discoveries are referred, can interrupt the contemplation +of things as they are, by the endeavor to discover of what selfish uses +they are capable (and of this order are painting and sculpture), ought +to take rank above all pursuits which have any taint in them of +subserviency to life, in so far as all such tendency is the sign of less +eternal and less holy function.[6] And such rank these two sublime arts +would indeed assume in the minds of nations, and become objects of +corresponding efforts, but for two fatal and widespread errors +respecting the great faculties of mind concerned in them. + +The first of these, or the theoretic faculty, is concerned with the +moral perception and appreciation of ideas of beauty. And the error +respecting it is the considering and calling it aesthetic, degrading it +to a mere operation of sense, or perhaps worse, of custom, so that the +arts which appeal to it sink into a mere amusement, ministers to morbid +sensibilities, ticklers and fanners of the soul's sleep. + +The second great faculty is the imaginative, which the mind exercises in +a certain mode of regarding or combining the ideas it has received from +external nature, and the operations of which become in their turn +objects of the theoretic faculty to other minds. + +[Illustration: COURT OF THE DUCAL PALACE, VENICE. From a drawing by +Ruskin.] + +And the error respecting this faculty is, that its function is one of +falsehood, that its operation is to exhibit things as they are _not_, +and that in so doing it mends the works of God. + + +Sec. 11. Object of the present section. + +Now, as these are the two faculties to which I shall have occasion +constantly to refer during that examination of the ideas of beauty and +relation on which we are now entering, because it is only as received +and treated by these, that those ideas become exalted and profitable, it +becomes necessary for me, in the outset, to explain their power and +define their sphere, and to vindicate, in the system of our nature, +their true place for the intellectual lens and moral retina by which and +on which our informing thoughts are concentrated and represented. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [1] Tintoret. (Ridolfi. Vita.) + + [2] We live by admiration, hope, and love. (Excursion, Book IV.) + + [3] Rom. xii. 9. + + [4] The extent of ravage among works of art, or of historical + interest, continually committing throughout the continent may, + perhaps, be in some measure estimated from the following facts, to + which the experience of every traveller may add indefinitely: + + At Beauvois--The magnificent old houses supported on columns of + workmanship (so far as I recollect) unique in the north of France, + at the corner of the market-place, have recently been destroyed for + the enlarging of some ironmongery and grocery warehouses. The arch + across the street leading to the cathedral has been destroyed also, + for what purpose, I know not. + + At Rouen--The last of the characteristic houses on the quay is now + disappearing. When I was last there, I witnessed the destruction of + the noble gothic portal of the church of St. Nicholas, whose + position interfered with the courtyard of an hotel; the greater part + of the ancient churches are used as smithies, or warehouses for + goods. So also at Tours (St. Julien). One of the most interesting + and superb pieces of middle-age domestic architecture in Europe, + opposite the west front of the cathedral, is occupied as a cafe, and + its lower story concealed by painted wainscotings; representing, if + I recollect right, twopenny rolls surrounded by circles of admiring + cherubs. + + At Geneva--The wooden projections or loggias which were once the + characteristic feature of the city, have been entirely removed + within the last ten years. + + At Pisa--The old Baptistery is at this present time in process of + being "restored," that is, dashed to pieces, and common stone + painted black and varnished, substituted for its black marble. In + the Campo Santo, the invaluable frescoes, which might be protected + by merely glazing the arcades, are left exposed to wind and weather. + While I was there last year I saw a monument put up against the + lower part of the wall, to some private person; the bricklayers + knocked out a large space of the lower brickwork, with what + beneficial effect to the loose and blistered stucco on which the + frescoes are painted above, I leave the reader to imagine; inserted + the tablet, and then plastered over the marks of the insertion, + destroying a portion of the border of one of the paintings. The + greater part of Giotto's "Satan before God," has been destroyed by + the recent insertion of one of the beams of the roof. + + The tomb of Antonio Puccinello, which was the last actually put up + against the frescoes, and which destroyed the terminal subject of + the Giotto series, bears date 1808. + + It has been proposed (or at least it is so reported) that the church + of La Spina should be destroyed in order to widen the quay. + + At Florence--One of its most important and characteristic streets, + that in which stands the church of Or San Michele, has been within + the last five years entirely destroyed and rebuilt in the French + style; consisting now almost exclusively of shops of bijouterie and + parfumerie. Owing to this direction of public funds, the fronts of + the Duomo, Santa Croce, St. Lorenzo, and half the others in Florence + remain in their original bricks. + + The old refectory of Santa Croce, containing an invaluable Cenacolo, + if not by Giotto, at least one of the finest works of his school, is + used as a carpet manufactory. In order to see the fresco, I had to + get on the top of a loom. The _cenacolo_ (of Raffaelle?) recently + discovered, I saw when the refectory it adorns was used as a + coach-house. The fresco, which gave Raffaelle the idea of the Christ + of the Transfiguration, is in an old wood shed at San Miniato, + concealed behind a heap of faggots. In June, last year, I saw + Gentile da Fabriano's picture of the Adoration of the Magi, + belonging to the Academy of Florence, put face upmost in a shower of + rain in an open cart; on my suggesting the possibility of the rain + hurting it, an old piece of matting was thrown over its face, and it + was wheeled away "per essere pulita." What fate this signified, is + best to be discovered from the large Perugino in the Academy; whose + divine distant landscape is now almost concealed by the mass of + French ultramarine, painted over it apparently with a common house + brush, by the picture cleaner. + + Not to detain the reader by going through the cities of Italy, I + will only further mention, that at Padua, the rain beats through the + west window of the Arena chapel, and runs down _over_ the frescoes. + That at Venice, in September last, I saw three buckets set in the + scuola di San Rocco to catch the rain which came _through_ the + _canvases_ of Tintoret on the roof; and that while the old works of + art are left thus unprotected, the palaces are being restored in the + following modes. The English residents knock out bow windows to see + up and down the canal. The Italians paint all the _marble_ white or + cream color, stucco the fronts, and paint them in blue and white + stripes to imitate alabaster. (This has been done with Danieli's + hotel, with the north angle of the church of St. Mark, there + replacing the real alabasters which have been torn down, with a + noble old house in St. Mark's place, and with several in the narrow + canals.) The marbles of St. Mark's, and carvings, are being + _scraped_ down to make them look bright--the lower arcade of the + Doge's palace is whitewashed--the entrance porch is being + restored--the operation having already proceeded so far as the + knocking off of the heads of the old statues--an iron railing + painted black and yellow has been put round the court. Faded + tapestries, and lottery tickets (the latter for the benefit of + charitable institutions) are exposed for sale in the council + chambers. + + [5] Hooker, Eccl. Pol. Book I. chap. ii. Sec. 2. + + [6] I do not assert that the accidental utility of a theoretic + pursuit, as of botany for instance, in any way degrades it, though + it cannot be considered as elevating it. But essential utility, a + purpose to which the pursuit is in some measure referred, as in + architecture, invariably degrades, because then the theoretic part + of the art is comparatively lost sight of; and thus architecture + takes a level below that of sculpture or painting, even when the + powers of mind developed in it are of the same high order. + + When we pronounce the name of Giotto, our venerant thoughts are at + Assisi and Padua, before they climb the Campanile of Santa Maria del + Fiore. And he who would raise the ghost of Michael Angelo, must + haunt the Sistine and St. Lorenzo, not St. Peter's. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + OF THE THEORETIC FACULTY AS CONCERNED WITH PLEASURES OF SENSE. + + +Sec. 1. Explanation of the term "theoretic." + +I proceed therefore first, to examine the nature of what I have called +the Theoretic faculty, and to justify my substitution of the term +"theoretic" for aesthetic, which is the one commonly employed with +reference to it. + +Now the term "aesthesis" properly signifies mere sensual perception of +the outward qualities and necessary effects of bodies, in which sense +only, if we would arrive at any accurate conclusions on this difficult +subject, it should always be used. But I wholly deny that the +impressions of beauty are in any way sensual,--they are neither sensual +nor intellectual, but moral, and for the faculty receiving them, whose +difference from mere perception I shall immediately endeavor to explain, +no term can be more accurate or convenient than that employed by the +Greeks, "theoretic," which I pray permission, therefore, always to use, +and to call the operation of the faculty itself, Theoria. + + +Sec. 2. Of the differences of rank in pleasures of sense. + +Let us begin at the lowest point, and observe, first, what differences +of dignity may exist between different kinds of aesthetic or sensual +pleasure, properly so called. + +Now it is evident that the being common to brutes, or peculiar to man, +can alone be no rational test of inferiority, or dignity in pleasures. +We must not assume that man is the nobler animal, and then deduce the +nobleness of his delights; but we must prove the nobleness of the +delights, and thence the nobleness of the animal. The dignity of +affection is no way lessened because a large measure of it may be found +in lower animals, neither is the vileness of gluttony and lust abated +because they are common to men. It is clear, therefore, that there is a +standard of dignity in the pleasures and passions themselves, by which +we also class the creatures capable of, or suffering them. + + +Sec. 3. Use of the terms Temperate and Intemperate. + +The first great distinction, we observe, is that noted of Aristotle, +that men are called temperate and intemperate with regard to some, and +not so with respect to others, and that those, with respect to which +they are so called, are, by common consent, held to be the vilest. But +Aristotle, though exquisitely subtle in his notation of facts, does not +frequently give us satisfactory account of, or reason for them. Content +with stating the fact of these pleasures being held the lowest, he shows +not why this estimation of them is just, and confuses the reader by +observing casually respecting the higher pleasures, what is indeed true, +but appears at first opposed to his own position, namely, that "men may +be conceived, as also in these taking pleasure, either rightly, or more +or less than is right."[7] Which being so, and evident capability of +excess or defect existing in pleasures of this higher order, we ought to +have been told how it happens that men are not called intemperate when +they indulge in excess of this kind, and what is that difference in the +nature of the pleasure which diminishes the criminality of its excess. +This let us attempt to ascertain. + + +Sec. 4. Right use of the term "intemperate." + +Men are held intemperate ([Greek: akolastoi]) only when their desires +overcome or prevent the action of their reason, and they are indeed +intemperate in the exact degree in which such prevention or interference +takes place, and so are actually [Greek: akolastoi], in many instances, +and with respect to many resolves, which lower not the world's +estimation of their temperance. For so long as it can be supposed that +the reason has acted imperfectly owing to its own imperfection, or to +the imperfection of the premises submitted to it, (as when men give an +inordinate preference to their own pursuits, because they cannot, in the +nature of things, have sufficiently experienced the goodness and benefit +of others,) and so long as it may be presumed that men have referred to +reason in what they do, and have not suffered its orders to be disobeyed +through mere impulse and desire, (though those orders may be full of +error owing to the reason's own feebleness,) so long men are not held +intemperate. But when it is palpably evident that the reason cannot have +erred but that its voice has been deadened or disobeyed, and that the +reasonable creature has been dragged dead round the walls of his own +citadel by mere passion and impulse,--then, and then only, men are of +all held intemperate. And this is evidently the case with respect to +inordinate indulgence in pleasures of touch and taste, for these, being +destructive in their continuance not only of all other pleasures, but +of the very sensibilities by which they themselves are received, and as +this penalty is actually known and experienced by those indulging in +them, so that the reason cannot but pronounce right respecting their +perilousness, there is no palliation of the wrong choice; and the man, +as utterly incapable of will,[8] is called intemperate, or [Greek: +akolastos]. + +It would be well if the reader would for himself follow out this +subject, which it would be irrelevant here to pursue farther, observing +how a certain degree of intemperance is suspected and attributed to men +with respect to higher impulses; as, for instance, in the case of anger, +or any other passion criminally indulged, and yet is not so attributed, +as in the case of sensual pleasures; because in anger the reason is +supposed not to have had time to operate, and to be itself affected by +the presence of the passion, which seizes the man involuntarily and +before he is aware; whereas, in the case of the sensual pleasures, the +act is deliberate, and determined on beforehand, in direct defiance of +reason. Nevertheless, if no precaution be taken against immoderate +anger, and the passions gain upon the man, so as to be evidently wilful +and unrestrained, and admitted contrary to all reason, we begin to look +upon him as, in the real sense of the word, intemperate, or [Greek: +akolastos], and assign to him, in consequence, his place among the +beasts, as definitely as if he had yielded to the pleasurable +temptations of touch or taste. + + +Sec. 5. Grounds of inferiority in the pleasures which are subjects of + intemperance. + +We see, then, that the primal ground of inferiority in these pleasures +is that which _proves_ their indulgence to be contrary to reason; namely +their destructiveness upon prolongation, and their incapability of +co-existing continually with other delights or perfections of the +system. + +And this incapability of continuance directs us to the second cause of +their inferiority; namely, that they are given to us as subservient to +life, as instruments of our preservation--compelling us to seek the +things necessary to our being, and that, therefore, when this their +function is fully performed, they ought to have an end; and can be only +artificially, and under high penalty, prolonged. But the pleasures of +sight and hearing are given as gifts. They answer not any purposes of +mere existence, for the distinction of all that is useful or dangerous +to us might be made, and often is made, by the eye, without its +receiving the slightest pleasure of sight. We might have learned to +distinguish fruits and grain from flowers, without having any superior +pleasure in the aspect of the latter. And the ear might have learned to +distinguish the sounds that communicate ideas, or to recognize +intimations of elemental danger without perceiving either music in the +voice, or majesty in the thunder. And as these pleasures have no +function to perform, so there is no limit to their continuance in the +accomplishment of their end, for they are an end in themselves, and so +may be perpetual with all of us--being in no way destructive, but rather +increasing in exquisiteness by repetition. + + +Sec. 6. Evidence of higher rank in pleasures of sight and hearing. + +Herein, then, we find very sufficient ground for the higher estimation +of these delights, first, in their being eternal and inexhaustible, and +secondly, in their being evidently no means or instrument of life, but +an object of life. Now in whatever is an object of life, in whatever may +be infinitely and for itself desired, we may be sure there is something +of divine, for God will not make anything an object of life to his +creatures which does not point to, or partake of, Himself. And so, +though we were to regard the pleasures of sight merely as the highest of +sensual pleasures, and though they were of rare occurrence, and, when +occurring, isolated and imperfect, there would still be a supernatural +character about them, owing to their permanence and self-sufficiency, +where no other sensual pleasures are permanent or self-sufficient. But +when, instead of being scattered, interrupted, or chance-distributed, +they are gathered together, and so arranged to enhance each other as by +chance they could not be, there is caused by them not only a feeling of +strong affection towards the object in which they exist, but a +perception of purpose and adaptation of it to our desires; a perception, +therefore, of the immediate operation of the Intelligence which so +formed us, and so feeds us. + +Out of which perception arise joy, admiration, and gratitude. + +Now the mere animal consciousness of the pleasantness I call aesthesis; +but the exulting, reverent, and grateful perception of it I call +theoria. For this, and this only, is the full comprehension and +contemplation of the beautiful as a gift of God, a gift not necessary to +our being, but added to, and elevating it, and twofold, first of the +desire, and secondly of the thing desired. + + +Sec. 7. How the lower pleasures may be elevated in rank. + +And that this joyfulness and reverence are a necessary part of theoretic +pleasure is very evident when we consider that, by the presence of these +feelings, even the lower and more sensual pleasures may be rendered +theoretic. Thus Aristotle has subtly noted, that "we call not men +intemperate so much with respect to the scents of roses or herb-perfumes +as of ointments and of condiments," (though the reason that he gives for +this be futile enough.) For the fact is, that of scents artificially +prepared the extreme desire is intemperance, but of natural and +God-given scents, which take their part in the harmony and pleasantness +of creation, there can hardly be intemperance; not that there is any +absolute difference between the two kinds, but that these are likely to +be received with gratitude and joyfulness rather than those, so that we +despise the seeking of essences and unguents, but not the sowing of +violets along our garden banks. But all things may be elevated by +affection, as the spikenard of Mary, and in the Song of Solomon, the +myrrh upon the handles of the lock, and that of Isaac concerning his +son. And the general law for all these pleasures is, that when sought in +the abstract and ardently, they are foul things, but when received with +thankfulness and with reference to God's glory, they become theoretic; +and so I can find something divine in the sweetness of wild fruits, as +well as in the pleasantness of the pure air, and the tenderness of its +natural perfumes that come and go as they list. + + +Sec. 8. Ideas of beauty how essentially moral. + +It will be understood why I formerly said in the chapter respecting +ideas of beauty, that those ideas were the subject of moral and not of +intellectual, nor altogether of sensual perception; and why I spoke of +the pleasures connected with them as derived from "those material +sources which are agreeable to our moral nature in its purity and +perfection." For, as it is necessary to the existence of an idea of +beauty, that the sensual pleasure which may be its basis, should be +accompanied first with joy, then with love of the object, then with the +perception of kindness in a superior Intelligence, finally with +thankfulness and veneration towards that Intelligence itself, and as no +idea can be at all considered as in any way an idea of beauty, until it +be made up of these emotions, any more than we can be said to have an +idea of a letter of which we perceive the perfume and the fair writing, +without understanding the contents of it, or intent of it; and as these +emotions are in no way resultant from, nor obtainable by, any operation +of the intellect, it is evident that the sensation of beauty is not +sensual on the one hand, nor is it intellectual on the other, but is +dependent on a pure, right, and open state of the heart, both for its +truth and for its intensity, insomuch that even the right after action +of the intellect upon facts of beauty so apprehended, is dependent on +the acuteness of the heart feeling about them; and thus the Apostolic +words come true, in this minor respect as in all others, that men are +alienated from the life of God, through the ignorance that is in them, +having the understanding darkened because of the hardness of their +hearts, and so being past feeling, give themselves up to lasciviousness; +for we do indeed see constantly that men having naturally acute +perceptions of the beautiful, yet not receiving it with a pure heart, +nor into their hearts at all, never comprehend it, nor receive good from +it, but make it a mere minister to their desires, and accompaniment and +seasoning of lower sensual pleasures, until all their emotions take the +same earthly stamp, and the sense of beauty sinks into the servant of +lust. + + +Sec. 9. How degraded by heartless reception. + +Sec. 10. How exalted by affection. + +Nor is what the world commonly understands by the cultivation of taste, +anything more or better than this, at least in times of corrupt and +over-pampered civilization, when men build palaces and plant groves and +gather luxuries, that they and their devices may hang in the corners of +the world like fine-spun cobwebs, with greedy, puffed-up, spider-like +lusts in the middle. And this, which in Christian times is the abuse and +corruption of the sense of beauty, was in that Pagan life of which St. +Paul speaks, little less than the essence of it, and the best they had; +for I know not that of the expressions of affection towards external +nature to be found among Heathen writers, there are any of which the +balance and leading thought cleaves not towards the sensual parts of +her. Her beneficence they sought, and her power they shunned, her +teaching through both, they understood never. The pleasant influences of +soft winds and ringing streamlets, and shady coverts; of the violet +couch, and plane-tree shade,[9] they received, perhaps, in a more noble +way than we, but they found not anything except fear, upon the bare +mountain, or in the ghostly glen. The Hybla heather they loved more for +its sweet hives than its purple hues. But the Christian theoria seeks +not, though it accepts, and touches with its own purity, what the +Epicurean sought, but finds its food and the objects of its love +everywhere, in what is harsh and fearful, as well as what is kind, nay, +even in all that seems coarse and commonplace; seizing that which is +good, and delighting more sometimes at finding its table spread in +strange places, and in the presence of its enemies, and its honey coming +out of the rock, than if all were harmonized into a less wondrous +pleasure; hating only what is self-sighted and insolent of men's work, +despising all that is not of God, unless reminding it of God, yet able +to find evidence of him still, where all seems forgetful of him, and to +turn that into a witness of his working which was meant to obscure it, +and so with clear and unoffended sight beholding him forever, according +to the written promise,--Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall +see God. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [7] [Greek: hos dei, kai kath' hyperbolen kai elleipsin.] + + [8] Comp. Hooker, Eccl. Pol. Book i. chap. 8. + + [9] Plato, Phaedrus, Sec. 9. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + OF ACCURACY AND INACCURACY IN IMPRESSIONS OF SENSE. + + +Sec. 1. By what test is the health of the perceptive faculty to be + determined? + +Hitherto we have observed only the distinctions of dignity among +pleasures of sense, considered merely as such, and the way in which any +of them may become theoretic in being received with right feeling. + +But as we go farther, and examine the distinctive nature of ideas of +beauty, we shall, I believe, perceive something in them besides aesthetic +pleasure, which attests a more important function belonging to them than +attaches to other sensual ideas, and exhibits a more exalted character +in the faculty by which they are received. And this was what I alluded +to, when I said in the chapter already referred to (Sec. 1), that "we may +indeed perceive, as far as we are acquainted with the nature of God, +that we have been so constructed as in a healthy state of mind to derive +pleasure from whatever things are illustrative of that nature." + +This point it is necessary now farther to develop. + +Our first inquiry must evidently be, how we are authorized to affirm of +any man's mind, respecting impressions of sight, that it is in a healthy +state or otherwise. What canon or test is there by which we may +determine of these impressions that they are or are not _rightly_ +esteemed beautiful? To what authority, when men are at variance with +each other on this subject, shall it be deputed to judge which is right? +or is there any such authority or canon at all? + +For it does not at first appear easy to prove that men ought to like one +thing rather than another, and although this is granted generally by +men's speaking of bad or good taste, it is frequently denied when we +pass to particulars, by the assertion of each individual that he has a +right to his opinion--a right which is sometimes claimed even in moral +matters, though then palpably without foundation, but which does not +appear altogether irrational in matters aesthetic, wherein little +operation of voluntary choice is supposed possible. It would appear +strange, for instance, to assert, respecting a particular person who +preferred the scent of violets to roses, that he had no right to do so. +And yet, while I have said that the sensation of beauty is intuitive and +necessary, as men derive pleasure from the scent of a rose, I have +assumed that there are some sources from which it is rightly derived, +and others from which it is wrongly derived, in other words that men +have no right to think some things beautiful, and no right to remain +apathetic with regard to others. + + +Sec. 2. And in what sense may the terms Right and Wrong be attached to its + conclusions? + +Hence then arise two questions, according to the sense in which the word +right is taken; the first, in what way an impression of sense may be +deceptive, and therefore a conclusion respecting it untrue; and the +second, in what way an impression of sense, or the preference of one, +may be a subject of will, and therefore of moral duty or delinquency. + +To the first of these questions, I answer that we cannot speak of the +immediate impression of sense as false, nor of its preference to others +as mistaken, for no one can be deceived respecting the actual sensation +he perceives or prefers. But falsity may attach to his assertion or +supposition, either that what he himself perceives is from the same +object perceived by others, or is always to be by himself perceived, or +is always to be by himself preferred; and when we speak of a man as +wrong in his impressions of sense, we either mean that he feels +differently from all, or a majority, respecting a certain object, or +that he prefers at present those of his impressions, which ultimately he +will not prefer. + +To the second I answer, that over immediate impressions and immediate +preferences we have no power, but over ultimate impressions, and +especially ultimate preferences we have; and that, though we can neither +at once choose whether we shall see an object, red, green, or blue, nor +determine to like the red better than the blue, or the blue better than +the red, yet we can, if we choose, make ourselves ultimately susceptible +of such impressions in other degrees, and capable of pleasures in them +in different measure; and because, wherever power of any kind is given, +there is responsibility attached, it is the duty of men to prefer +certain impressions of sense to others, because they have the power of +doing so, this being precisely analogous to the law of the moral world, +whereby men are supposed not only capable of governing their likes and +dislikes, but the whole culpability or propriety of actions is dependent +upon this capability, so that men are guilty or otherwise, not for what +they do, but for what they desire, the command being not, thou shalt +obey, but thou shalt love, the Lord thy God, which, if men were not +capable of governing and directing their affections, would be the +command of an impossibility. + + +Sec. 3. What power we have over impressions of sense. + +I assert, therefore, that even with respect to impressions of sense, we +have a power of preference, and a corresponding duty, and I shall show +first the nature of the power, and afterwards the nature of the duty. + +Let us take an instance from one of the lowest of the senses, and +observe the kind of power we have over the impressions of lingual taste. +On the first offering of two different things to the palate, it is not +in our power to prevent or command the instinctive preference. One will +be unavoidably and helplessly preferred to the other. But if the same +two things be submitted to judgment frequently and attentively, it will +be often found that their relations change. The palate, which at first +perceived only the coarse and violent qualities of either, will, as it +becomes more experienced, acquire greater subtilty and delicacy of +discrimination, perceiving in both agreeable or disagreeable qualities +at first unnoticed, which on continued experience will probably become +more influential than the first impressions; and whatever this final +verdict may be, it is felt by the person who gives it, and received by +others as a more correct one than the first. + + +Sec. 4. Depends on acuteness of attention. + +So, then, the power we have over the preference of impressions of taste +is not actual nor immediate, but only a power of testing and comparing +them frequently and carefully, until that which is the more permanent, +the more consistently agreeable, be determined. But when the instrument +of taste is thus in some degree perfected and rendered subtile, by its +being practised upon a single object, its conclusions will be more rapid +with respect to others, and it will be able to distinguish more quickly +in other things, and even to prefer at once, those qualities which are +calculated finally to give it most pleasure, though more capable with +respect to those on which it is more frequently exercised; whence +people are called judges with respect to this or that particular object +of taste. + + +Sec. 5. Ultimate conclusions universal. + +Now that verdicts of this kind are received as authoritative by others, +proves another and more important fact, namely, that not only changes of +opinion take place in consequence of experience, but that those changes +are from variation of opinion to unity of opinion; and that whatever may +be the differences of estimate among unpractised or uncultivated tastes, +there will be unity of taste among the experienced. And that therefore +the operation of repeated trial and experience is to arrive at +principles of preference in some sort common to all, and which are a +part of our nature. + +I have selected the sense of taste for an instance, because it is the +least favorable to the position I hold, since there is more latitude +allowed, and more actual variety of verdict in the case of this sense +than of any other; and yet, however susceptible of variety even the +ultimate approximations of its preferences may be, the authority of +judges is distinctly allowed, and we hear every day the admission, by +those of unpractised palate, that they are, or may be wrong in their +opinions respecting the real pleasurableness of things either to +themselves, or to others. + + +Sec. 6. What duty is attached to this power over impressions of sense. + +The sense, however, in which they thus use the word "wrong" is merely +that of falseness or inaccuracy in conclusion, not of moral delinquency. +But there is, as I have stated, a duty, more or less imperative, +attached to every power we possess, and therefore to this power over the +lower senses as well as to all others. + +And this duty is evidently to bring every sense into that state of +cultivation, in which it shall both form the truest conclusions +respecting all that is submitted to it, and procure us the greatest +amount of pleasure consistent with its due relation to other senses and +functions. Which three constituents of perfection in sense, true +judgment, maximum sensibility, and right relation to others, are +invariably co-existent and involved one by the other, for the true +judgment is the result of the high sensibility, and the high sensibility +of the right relation. Thus, for instance, with respect to pleasures of +taste, it is our duty not to devote such inordinate attention to the +discrimination of them as must be inconsistent with our pursuit, and +destructive of our capacity of higher and preferable pleasures, but to +cultivate the sense of them in that way which is consistent with all +other good, by temperance, namely, and by such attention as the mind at +certain resting moments may fitly pay even to so ignoble a source of +pleasure as this, by which discipline we shall bring the faculty of +taste itself to its real maximum of sensibility; for it may not be +doubted but that health, hunger, and such general refinement of bodily +habits as shall make the body a perfect and fine instrument in all +respects, are better promoters of actual sensual enjoyment of taste, +than the sickened, sluggish, hard-stimulated fastidiousness of +Epicurism. + + +Sec. 7. How rewarded. + +So also it will certainly be found with all the senses, that they +individually receive the greatest and purest pleasure when they are in +right condition and degree of subordination to all the rest; and that by +the over cultivation of any one, (for morbid sources of pleasure and +correspondent temptations to irrational indulgence, confessedly are +attached to all,) we shall add more to their power as instruments of +punishment than of pleasure. + +We see then, in this example of the lowest sense, that the power we have +over sensations and preferences depends mainly on the exercise of +attention through certain prolonged periods, and that by this exercise, +we arrive at ultimate, constant, and common sources of agreeableness, +casting off those which are external, accidental, and individual. + + +Sec. 8. Especially with respect to ideas of beauty. + +That then which is required in order to the attainment of accurate +conclusions respecting the essence of the beautiful, is nothing more +than earnest, loving, and unselfish attention to our impressions of it, +by which those which are shallow, false, or peculiar to times and +temperaments, may be distinguished from those that are eternal. And this +dwelling upon, and fond contemplation of them, (the anschauung of the +Germans,) is perhaps as much as was meant by the Greek theoria; and it +is indeed a very noble exercise of the souls of men, and one by which +they are peculiarly distinguished from the anima of lower creatures, +which cannot, I think, be proved to have any capacity of contemplation +at all, but only a restless vividness of perception and conception, the +"fancy" of Hooker (Eccl. Pol. Book i. Chap. vi. 2). And yet this +dwelling upon them comes not up to that which I wish to express by the +word theoria, unless it be accompanied by full perception of their being +a gift from and manifestation of God, and by all those other nobler +emotions before described, since not until so felt is their essential +nature comprehended. + + +Sec. 9. Errors induced by the power of habit. + +But two very important points are to be observed respecting the +direction and discipline of the attention in the early stages of +judgment. The first, that, for many beneficent purposes, the nature of +man has been made reconcilable by custom to many things naturally +painful to it, and even improper for it, and that therefore, though by +continued experience, united with thought, we may discover that which is +best of several, yet if we submit ourselves to authority or fashion, and +close our eyes, we may be by custom made to tolerate, and even to love +and long for, that which is naturally painful and pernicious to us, +whence arise incalculable embarrassments on the subject of art. + + +Sec. 10. The necessity of submission in early stages of judgment. + +The second, that, in order to the discovery of that which is best of two +things, it is necessary that both should be equally submitted to the +attention; and therefore that we should have so much faith in authority +as shall make us repeatedly observe and attend to that which is said to +be right, even though at present we may not feel it so. And in the right +mingling of this faith with the openness of heart, which proves all +things, lies the great difficulty of the cultivation of the taste, as +far as the spirit of the scholar is concerned, though even when he has +this spirit, he may be long retarded by having evil examples submitted +to him by ignorant masters. + +The temper, therefore, by which right taste is formed, is first, +patient. It dwells upon what is submitted to it, it does not trample +upon it lest it should be pearls, even though it look like husks, it is +a good ground, soft, penetrable, retentive, it does not send up thorns +of unkind thoughts, to choke the weak seed, it is hungry and thirsty +too, and drinks all the dew that falls on it, it is an honest and good +heart, that shows no too ready springing before the sun be up, but fails +not afterwards; it is distrustful of itself, so as to be ready to +believe and to try all things, and yet so trustful of itself, that it +will neither quit what it has tried, nor take anything without trying. +And that pleasure which it has in things that it finds true and good, is +so great that it cannot possibly be led aside by any tricks of fashion, +nor diseases of vanity, it cannot be cramped in its conclusions by +partialities and hypocrisies, its visions and its delights are too +penetrating, too living, for any whitewashed object or shallow fountain +long to endure or supply. It clasps all that it loves so hard, that it +crushes it if it be hollow. + + +Sec. 11. The large scope of matured judgment. + +Now, the conclusions of this disposition are sure to be eventually +right, more and more right according to the general maturity of all the +powers, but it is sure to come right at last, because its operation is +in analogy to, and in harmony with, the whole spirit of the Christian +moral system, and that which it will ultimately love and rest in, are +great sources of happiness common to all the human race, and based on +the relations they hold to their Creator. + +These common and general sources of pleasure are, I believe, a certain +seal, or impress of divine work and character, upon whatever God has +wrought in all the world; only, it being necessary for the perception of +them, that their contraries should also be set before us, these divine +qualities, though inseparable from all divine works, are yet suffered to +exist in such varieties of degree, that their most limited manifestation +shall, in opposition to their most abundant, act as a foil or contrary, +just as we conceive of cold as contrary to heat, though the most extreme +cold we can produce or conceive is not inconsistent with an unknown +amount of heat in the body. + + +Sec. 12. How distinguishable from false taste. + +Our purity of taste, therefore, is best tested by its universality, for +if we can only admire this thing or that, we may be sure that our cause +for liking is of a finite and false nature. But if we can perceive +beauty in everything of God's doing, we may argue that we have reached +the true perception of its universal laws. Hence, false taste may be +known by its fastidiousness, by its demands of pomp, splendor, and +unusual combination, by its enjoyment only of particular styles and +modes of things, and by its pride also, for it is forever meddling, +mending, accumulating, and self-exulting, its eye is always upon itself, +and it tests all things around it by the way they fit it. But true +taste is forever growing, learning, reading, worshipping, laying its +hand upon its mouth because it is astonished, casting its shoes from off +its feet because it finds all ground holy, lamenting over itself and +testing itself by the way that it fits things. And it finds whereof to +feed, and whereby to grow, in all things, and therefore the complaint so +often made by young artists that they have not within their reach +materials, or subjects enough for their fancy, is utterly groundless, +and the sign only of their own blindness and inefficiency; for there is +that to be seen in every street and lane of every city, that to be felt +and found in every human heart and countenance, that to be loved in +every road-side weed and moss-grown wall, which in the hands of faithful +men, may convey emotions of glory and sublimity continual and exalted. + + +Sec. 13. The danger of a spirit of choice. + +Let therefore the young artist beware of the spirit of choice,[10] it is +an insolent spirit at the best and commonly a base and blind one too, +checking all progress and blasting all power, encouraging weaknesses, +pampering partialities, and teaching us to look to accidents of nature +for the help and the joy which should come from our own hearts. He draws +nothing well who thirsts not to draw _every_thing; when a good painter +shrinks, it is because he is humbled, not fastidious, when he stops, it +is because he is surfeited, and not because he thinks nature has given +him unkindly food, or that he fears famine.[11] I have seen a man of +true taste pause for a quarter of an hour to look at the channellings +that recent rain had traced in a heap of cinders. + + +Sec. 14. And criminality. + +And here is evident another reason of that duty which we owe respecting +impressions of sight, namely, to discipline ourselves to the enjoyment +of those which are eternal in their nature, not only because these are +the most acute, but because they are the most easily, constantly, and +unselfishly attainable. For had it been ordained by the Almighty that +the highest pleasures of sight should be those of most difficult +attainment, and that to arrive at them it should be necessary to +accumulate gilded palaces tower over tower, and pile artificial +mountains around insinuated lakes, there would have been a direct +contradiction between the unselfish duties and inherent desires of every +individual. But no such contradiction exists in the system of Divine +Providence, which, leaving it open to us, if we will, as creatures in +probation, to abuse this sense like every other, and pamper it with +selfish and thoughtless vanities as we pamper the palate with deadly +meats, until the appetite of tasteful cruelty is lost in its sickened +satiety, incapable of pleasure unless, Caligula like, it concentrate the +labor of a million of lives into the sensation of an hour, leaves it +also open to us, by humble and loving ways, to make ourselves +susceptible of deep delight from the meanest objects of creation, and of +a delight which shall not separate us from our fellows, nor require the +sacrifice of any duty or occupation, but which shall bind us closer to +men and to God, and be with us always, harmonized with every action, +consistent with every claim, unchanging and eternal. + + +Sec. 15. How certain conclusions respecting beauty are by reason + demonstrable. + +Seeing then that these qualities of material objects which are +calculated to give us this universal pleasure, are demonstrably constant +in their address to human nature, they must belong in some measure to +whatever has been esteemed beautiful throughout successive ages of the +world (and they are also by their definition common to all the works of +God). Therefore it is evident that it must be possible to reason them +out, as well as to feel them out; possible to divest every object of +that which makes it accidentally or temporarily pleasant, and to strip +it bare of distinctive qualities, until we arrive at those which it has +in common with all other beautiful things, which we may then safely +affirm to be the cause of its ultimate and true delightfulness. + + +Sec. 16. With what liabilities to error. + +Now this process of reasoning will be that which I shall endeavor to +employ in the succeeding investigations, a process perfectly safe, so +long as we are quite sure that we are reasoning concerning objects which +produce in us one and the same sensation, but not safe if the sensation +produced be of a different nature, though it may be equally agreeable; +for what produces a different sensation must be a different cause. And +the difficulty of reasoning respecting beauty arises chiefly from the +ambiguity of the word, which stands in different people's minds for +totally different sensations, for which there can be no common cause. + +When, for instance, Mr. Alison endeavors to support his position that +"no man is sensible to beauty in those objects with regard to which he +has not previous ideas," by the remark that "the beauty of a theory, or +of a relic of antiquity, is unintelligible to a peasant," we see at once +that it is hopeless to argue with a man who, under his general term +beauty, may, for anything we know, be sometimes speaking of mathematical +demonstrability and sometimes of historical interest; while even if we +could succeed in limiting the term to the sense of external +attractiveness, there would be still room for many phases of error; for +though the beauty of a snowy mountain and of a human cheek or forehead, +so far as both are considered as mere matter, is the same, and traceable +to certain qualities of color and line, common to both, and by reason +extricable, yet the flush of the cheek and moulding of the brow, as they +express modesty, affection, or intellect, possess sources of +agreeableness which are not common to the snowy mountain, and the +interference of whose influence we must be cautious to prevent in our +examination of those which are material and universal.[12] + + +Sec. 17. The term "beauty" how limitable in the outset. Divided into + typical and vital. + +The first thing, then, that we have to do, is accurately to discriminate +and define those appearances from which we are about to reason as +belonging to beauty, properly so called, and to clear the ground of all +the confused ideas and erroneous theories with which the misapprehension +or metaphorical use of the term has encumbered it. + +By the term beauty, then, properly are signified two things. First, that +external quality of bodies already so often spoken of, and which, +whether it occur in a stone, flower, beast, or in man, is absolutely +identical, which, as I have already asserted, may be shown to be in +some sort typical of the Divine attributes, and which, therefore, I +shall, for distinction's sake, call typical beauty; and, secondarily, +the appearance of felicitous fulfilment of function in living things, +more especially of the joyful and right exertion of perfect life in man. +And this kind of beauty I shall call vital beauty. + +Any application of the word beautiful to other appearances or qualities +than these, is either false or metaphorical, as, for instance, to the +splendor of a discovery, the fitness of a proportion, the coherence of a +chain of reasoning, or the power of bestowing pleasure which objects +receive from association, a power confessedly great, and interfering, as +we shall presently find, in a most embarrassing way with the +attractiveness of inherent beauty. + +But in order that the mind of the reader may not be biassed at the +outset by that which he may happen to have received of current theories +respecting beauty, founded on the above metaphorical uses of the word, +(theories which are less to be reprobated as accounting falsely for the +sensations of which they treat, than as confusing two or more +pleasurable sensations together,) I shall briefly glance at the four +erroneous positions most frequently held upon this subject, before +proceeding to examine those typical and vital properties of things, to +which I conceive that all our original conceptions of beauty may be +traced. + + +FOOTNOTES + + + [10] "Nothing comes amiss,-- + A good digestion turneth all to health."--G. HERBERT. + + [11] Yet note the difference between the choice that comes of pride, + and the choice that comes of love, and compare Chap. xv. Sec. 6. + + [12] Compare Spenser. (Hymn to Beauty.) + + "But ah, believe me, there is more than so, + That works such wonders in the minds of men." + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + OF FALSE OPINIONS HELD CONCERNING BEAUTY. + + +Sec. 1. Of the false opinion that truth is beauty, and vice versa. + +I purpose at present to speak only of four of the more current opinions +respecting beauty, for of the errors connected with the pleasurableness +of proportion, and of the expression of right feelings in the +countenance, I shall have opportunity to treat in the succeeding +chapters; (compare Ch. VI. Ch. XVI.) + +Those erring or inconsistent positions which I would at once dismiss +are, the first, that the beautiful is the true, the second, that the +beautiful is the useful, the third, that it is dependent on custom, and +the fourth, that it is dependent on the association of ideas. + +To assert that the beautiful is the true, appears, at first, like +asserting that propositions are matter, and matter propositions. But +giving the best and most rational interpretation we can, and supposing +the holders of this strange position to mean only that things are +beautiful which appear what they indeed are, and ugly which appear what +they are not, we find them instantly contradicted by each and every +conclusion of experience. A stone looks as truly a stone as a rose looks +a rose, and yet is not so beautiful; a cloud may look more like a castle +than a cloud, and be the more beautiful on that account. The mirage of +the desert is fairer than its sands; the false image of the under heaven +fairer than the sea. I am at a loss to know how any so untenable a +position could ever have been advanced; but it may, perhaps, have arisen +from some confusion of the beauty of art with the beauty of nature, and +from an illogical expansion of the very certain truth, that nothing is +beautiful in art, which, professing to be an imitation, or a statement, +is not as such in some sort true. + + +Sec. 2. Of the false opinion that beauty is usefulness. Compare Chap. xii. + Sec. 5. + +That the beautiful is the useful, is an assertion evidently based on +that limited and false sense of the latter term which I have already +deprecated. As it is the most degrading and dangerous supposition which +can be advanced on the subject, so, fortunately, it is the most +palpably absurd. It is to confound admiration with hunger, love with +lust, and life with sensation; it is to assert that the human creature +has no ideas and no feelings, except those ultimately referable to its +brutal appetites. It has not a single fact nor appearance of fact to +support it, and needs no combating, at least until its advocates have +obtained the consent of the majority of mankind, that the most beautiful +productions of nature are seeds and roots; and of art, spades and +millstones. + + +Sec. 3. Of the false opinion that beauty results from custom. Compare Chap. + vi. Sec. 1. + +Somewhat more rational grounds appear for the assertion that the sense +of the beautiful arises from familiarity with the object, though even +this could not long be maintained by a thinking person. For all that can +be alleged in defence of such a supposition is, that familiarity +deprives some objects which at first appeared ugly, of much of their +repulsiveness, whence it is as rational to conclude that familiarity is +the cause of beauty, as it would be to argue that because it is possible +to acquire a taste for olives, therefore custom is the cause of +lusciousness in grapes. Nevertheless, there are some phenomena resulting +from the tendency of our nature to be influenced by habit of which it +may be well to observe the limits. + + +Sec. 4. The twofold operation of custom. It deadens sensation, but confirms + affection. + +Sec. 5. But never either creates or destroys the essence of beauty. + +Custom has a twofold operation: the one to deaden the frequency and +force of repeated impressions, the other to endear the familiar object +to the affections. Commonly, where the mind is vigorous, and the power +of sensation very perfect, it has rather the last operation than the +first; with meaner minds, the first takes place in the higher degree, so +that they are commonly characterized by a desire of excitement, and the +want of the loving, fixed, theoretic power. But both take place in some +degree with all men, so that as life advances, impressions of all kinds +become less rapturous owing to their repetition. It is however +beneficently ordained that repulsiveness shall be diminished by custom +in a far greater degree than the sensation of beauty, so that the +anatomist in a little time loses all sense of horror in the torn flesh, +and carous bone, while the sculptor ceases not to feel to the close of +his life, the deliciousness of every line of the outward frame. So then +as in that with which we are made familiar, the repulsiveness is +constantly diminishing, and such claims as it may be able to put forth +on the affections are daily becoming stronger, while in what is +submitted to us of new or strange, that which may be repulsive is felt +in its full force, while no hold is as yet laid on the affections, there +is a very strong preference induced in most minds for that to which they +are not accustomed over that they know not, and this is strongest in +those which are least open to sensations of positive beauty. But however +far this operation may be carried, its utmost effect is but the +deadening and approximating the sensations of beauty and ugliness. It +never mixes nor crosses, nor in any way alters them; it has not the +slightest connection with nor power over their nature. By tasting two +wines alternately, we may deaden our perception of their flavor; nay, we +may even do more than can ever be done in the case of sight, we may +confound the two flavors together. But it will hardly be argued +therefore that custom is the cause of either flavor. And so, though by +habit we may deaden the effect of ugliness or beauty, it is not for that +reason to be affirmed that habit is the cause of either sensation. We +may keep a skull beside us as long as we please, we may overcome its +repulsiveness, we may render ourselves capable of perceiving many +qualities of beauty about its lines, we may contemplate it for years +together if we will, it and nothing else, but we shall not get ourselves +to think as well of it as of a child's fair face. + + +Sec. 6. Instances. + +It would be easy to pursue the subject farther, but I believe that every +thoughtful reader will be perfectly well able to supply farther +illustrations, and sweep away the sandy foundations of the opposite +theory, unassisted. Let it, however, be observed, that in spite of all +custom, an Englishman instantly acknowledges, and at first sight, the +superiority of the turban to the hat, or of the plaid to the coat, that +whatever the dictates of immediate fashion may compel, the superior +gracefulness of the Greek or middle age costumes is invariably felt, and +that, respecting what has been asserted of negro nations looking with +disgust on the white face, no importance whatever is to be attached to +the opinions of races who have never received any ideas of beauty +whatsoever, (these ideas being only received by minds under some +certain degree of cultivation,) and whose disgust arises naturally from +what they may suppose to be a sign of weakness or ill health. It would +be futile to proceed into farther detail. I pass to the last and most +weighty theory, that the agreeableness in objects which we call beauty +is the result of the association with them of agreeable or interesting +ideas. + + +Sec. 7. Of the false opinion that beauty depends on the association of + ideas. + +Frequent has been the support, and wide the acceptance of this +supposition, and yet I suppose that no two consecutive sentences were +ever written in defence of it, without involving either a contradiction +or a confusion of terms. Thus Alison, "There are scenes undoubtedly more +beautiful than Runnymede, yet to those who recollect the great event +that passed there, there is no scene perhaps which so strongly seizes on +the imagination." Here we are wonder-struck at the audacious obtuseness +which would prove the power of imagination by its overcoming that very +other power (of inherent beauty) whose existence the arguer denies. For +the only logical conclusion which can possibly be drawn from the above +sentence is, that imagination is _not_ the source of beauty, for +although no scene seizes so strongly on the imagination, yet there are +scenes "more beautiful than Runnymede." And though instances of +self-contradiction as laconic and complete as this are to be found in +few writers except Alison, yet if the arguments on the subject be fairly +sifted from the mass of confused language with which they are always +encumbered and placed in logical form, they will be found invariably to +involve one of these two syllogisms, either, association gives pleasure, +and beauty gives pleasure, therefore association is beauty. Or, the +power of association is stronger than the power of beauty, therefore the +power of association _is_ the power of beauty. + + +Sec. 8. Association. Is, 1st, rational. It is of no efficiency as a cause + of beauty. + +Nevertheless it is necessary for us to observe the real value and +authority of association in the moral system, and how ideas of actual +beauty may be affected by it, otherwise we shall be liable to +embarrassment throughout the whole of the succeeding argument. + +Association is of two kinds. Rational and accidental. By rational +association I understand the interest which any object may bear +historically as having been in some way connected with the affairs or +affections of men; an interest shared in the minds of all who are aware +of such connection: which to call beauty is mere and gross confusion of +terms, it is no theory to be confuted, but a misuse of language to be +set aside, a misuse involving the positions that in uninhabited +countries the vegetation has no grace, the rock no dignity, the cloud no +color, and that the snowy summits of the Alps receive no loveliness from +the sunset light, because they have not been polluted by the wrath, +ravage, and misery of men. + + +Sec. 9. Association accidental. The extent of its influence. + +By accidental association, I understand the accidental connection of +ideas and memories with material things, owing to which those material +things are regarded as agreeable or otherwise, according to the nature +of the feelings or recollections they summon; the association being +commonly involuntary and oftentimes so vague as that no distinct image +is suggested by the object, but we feel a painfulness in it or pleasure +from it, without knowing wherefore. Of this operation of the mind (which +is that of which I spoke as causing inextricable embarrassments on the +subject of beauty) the experience is constant, so that its more +energetic manifestations require no illustration. But I do not think +that the minor degrees and shades of this great influence have been +sufficiently appreciated. Not only all vivid emotions and all +circumstances of exciting interest leave their light and shadow on the +senseless things and instruments among which or through whose agency +they have been felt or learned, but I believe that the eye cannot rest +on a material form, in a moment of depression or exultation, without +communicating to that form a spirit and a life, a life which will make +it afterwards in some degree loved or feared, a charm or a painfulness +for which we shall be unable to account even to ourselves, which will +not indeed be perceptible, except by its delicate influence on our +judgment in cases of complicated beauty. Let the eye but rest on a rough +piece of branch of curious form during a conversation with a friend, +rest, however, unconsciously, and though the conversation be forgotten, +though every circumstance connected with it be as utterly lost to the +memory as though it had not been, yet the eye will, through the whole +life after, take a certain pleasure in such boughs which it had not +before, a pleasure so slight, a trace of feeling so delicate as to +leave us utterly unconscious of its peculiar power, but undestroyable by +any reasoning, a part, thenceforward, of our constitution, destroyable +only by the same arbitrary process of association by which it was +created. Reason has no effect upon it whatsoever. And there is probably +no one opinion which is formed by any of us, in matters of taste, which +is not in some degree influenced by unconscious association of this +kind. In many who have no definite rules of judgment, preference is +decided by little else, and thus, unfortunately, its operations are +mistaken for, or rather substituted for, those of inherent beauty, and +its real position and value in the moral system is in a great measure +overlooked. + + +Sec. 10. The dignity of its function. + +For I believe that mere pleasure and pain have less associative power +than duty performed or omitted, and that the great use of the +associative faculty is not to add beauty to material things, but to add +force to the conscience. But for this external and all-powerful witness, +the voice of the inward guide might be lost in each particular instance, +almost as soon as disobeyed; the echo of it in after time, whereby, +though perhaps feeble as warning, it becomes powerful as punishment, +might be silenced, and the strength of the protection pass away in the +lightness of the lash. Therefore it has received the power of enlisting +external and unmeaning things in its aid, and transmitting to all that +is indifferent, its own authority to reprove or reward, so that, as we +travel the way of life, we have the choice, according to our working, of +turning all the voices of nature into one song of rejoicing, and all her +lifeless creatures into a glad company, whereof the meanest shall be +beautiful in our eyes, by its kind message, or of withering and +quenching her sympathy into a fearful, withdrawn, silence of +condemnation, or into a crying out of her stones, and a shaking of her +dust against us. Nor is it any marvel that the theoretic faculty should +be overpowered by this momentous operation, and the indifferent appeals +and inherent glories of external things in the end overlooked, when the +perfection of God's works is felt only as the sweetness of his promises, +and their admirableness only as the threatenings of his power. + + +Sec. 11. How it is connected with impressions of beauty. + +But it is evident that the full exercise of this noble function of the +associative faculty is inconsistent with absolute and incontrovertible +conclusions on subjects of theoretic preference. For it is quite +impossible for any individual to distinguish in himself the unconscious +underworking of indefinite association, peculiar to him individually, +from those great laws of choice under which he is comprehended with all +his race. And it is well for us that it is so, the harmony of God's good +work is not in us interrupted by this mingling of universal and peculiar +principles; for by these such difference is secured in the feelings as +shall make fellowship itself more delightful, by its inter-communicate +character, and such variety of feeling also in each of us separately as +shall make us capable of enjoying scenes of different kinds and orders, +instead of morbidly seeking for some perfect epitome of the beautiful in +one; and also that deadening by custom of theoretic impressions to which +I have above alluded, is counterbalanced by the pleasantness of acquired +association; and the loss of the intense feeling of the youth, which +"had no need of a remoter charm, by thought supplied, or any interest, +unborrowed from the eye," is replaced by the gladness of conscience, and +the vigor of the reflecting and imaginative faculties, as they take +their wide and aged grasp of the great relations between the earth and +its dead people. + + +Sec. 12. And what caution it renders necessary in the examination of them. + +In proportion therefore to the value, constancy, and efficiency of this +influence, we must be modest and cautious in the pronouncing of positive +opinions on the subject of beauty. For every one of us has peculiar +sources of enjoyment necessarily opened to him in certain scenes and +things, sources which are sealed to others, and we must be wary on the +one hand, of confounding these in ourselves with ultimate conclusions of +taste, and so forcing them upon all as authoritative, and on the other +of supposing that the enjoyments of others which we cannot share are +shallow or unwarrantable, because incommunicable. I fear, for instance, +that in the former portion of this work I may have attributed too much +community and authority to certain affections of my own for scenery +inducing emotions of wild, impetuous, and enthusiastic characters, and +too little to those which I perceive in others for things peaceful, +humble, meditative, and solemn. So also between youth and age there will +be found differences of seeking, which are not wrong, nor of false +choice in either, but of different temperament, the youth sympathizing +more with the gladness, fulness, and magnificence of things, and the +gray hairs with their completion, sufficiency and repose. And so, +neither condemning the delights of others, nor altogether distrustful of +our own, we must advance, as we live on, from what is brilliant to what +is pure, and from what is promised to what is fulfilled, and from what +is our strength to what is our crown, only observing in all things how +that which is indeed wrong, and to be cut up from the root, is dislike, +and not affection. For by the very nature of these beautiful qualities, +which I have defined to be the signature of God upon his works, it is +evident that in whatever we altogether dislike, we see not all; that the +keenness of our vision is to be tested by the expansiveness of our love, +and that as far as the influence of association has voice in the +question, though it is indeed possible that the inevitable painfulness +of an object, for which we can render no sufficient reason, may be owing +to its recalling of a sorrow, it is more probably dependent on its +accusation of a crime. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + OF TYPICAL BEAUTY:--FIRST, OF INFINITY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE + INCOMPREHENSIBILITY. + + +Sec. 1. Impossibility of adequately treating the subject. + +The subject being now in some measure cleared of embarrassment, let us +briefly distinguish those qualities or types on whose combination is +dependent the power of mere material loveliness. I pretend neither to +enumerate nor perceive them all, for it may be generally observed that +whatever good there may be, desirable by man, more especially good +belonging to his moral nature, there will be a corresponding +agreeableness in whatever external object reminds him of such good, +whether it remind him by arbitrary association or by typical +resemblance, and that the infinite ways, whether by reason or experience +discoverable, by which matter in some sort may remind us of moral +perfections, are hardly within any reasonable limits to be explained, if +even by any single mind they might all be traced. Yet certain palpable +and powerful modes there are, by observing which, we may come at such +general conclusions on the subject as may be practically useful, and +more than these I shall not attempt to obtain. + + +Sec. 2. With what simplicity of feeling to be approached. + +And first, I would ask of the reader to enter upon the subject with me, +as far as may be, as a little child, ridding himself of all conventional +and authoritative thoughts, and especially of such associations as arise +from his respect for Pagan art, or which are in any way traceable to +classical readings. I recollect that Mr. Alison traces his first +perceptions of beauty in external nature to this most corrupt source, +thus betraying so total and singular a want of natural sensibility as +may well excuse the deficiencies of his following arguments. For there +was never yet the child of any promise (so far as the theoretic +faculties are concerned) but awaked to the sense of beauty with the +first gleam of reason; and I suppose there are few, among those who love +nature otherwise than by profession and at second-hand, who look not +back to their youngest and least-learned days as those of the most +intense, superstitious, insatiable, and beatific perception of her +splendors. And the bitter decline of this glorious feeling, though many +note it not, partly owing to the cares and weight of manhood, which +leave them not the time nor the liberty to look for their lost treasure, +and partly to the human and divine affections which are appointed to +take its place, yet has formed the subject not indeed of lamentation, +but of holy thankfulness for the witness it bears to the immortal origin +and end of our nature, to one whose authority is almost without appeal +in all questions relating to the influence of external things upon the +pure human soul. + + "Heaven lies about us in our infancy,-- + Shades of the prison-house begin to close + Upon the growing boy. + But he beholds the light, and whence it flows + He sees it in his joy. + The youth, who daily farther from the east + Must travel, still is nature's priest, + And by the vision splendid + Is on his way attended. + At length the Man perceives it die away + And fade into the light of common day." + +And if it were possible for us to recollect all the unaccountable and +happy instincts of the careless time, and to reason upon them with the +maturer judgment, we might arrive at more rapid and right results than +either the philosophy or the sophisticated practice of art have yet +attained. But we lose the perceptions before we are capable of +methodizing or comparing them. + + +Sec. 3. The child instinct respecting space. + +Sec. 4. Continued in after life. + +One, however, of these child instincts, I believe that few forget; the +emotion, namely, caused by all open ground, or lines of any spacious +kind against the sky, behind which there might be conceived the sea. It +is an emotion more pure than that caused by the sea itself, for I +recollect distinctly running down behind the banks of a high beach to +get their land line cutting against the sky, and receiving a more +strange delight from this than from the sight of the ocean: I am not +sure that this feeling is common to all children, (or would be common if +they were all in circumstances admitting it), but I have ascertained it +to be frequent among those who possess the most vivid sensibilities for +nature; and I am certain that the modification of it, which belongs to +our after years, is common to all, the love, namely, of a light +distance appearing over a comparatively dark horizon. This I have tested +too frequently to be mistaken, by offering to indifferent spectators +forms of equal abstract beauty in half tint, relieved, the one against +dark sky, the other against a bright distance. The preference is +invariably given to the latter, and it is very certain that this +preference arises not from any supposition of there being greater truth +in this than the other, for the same preference is unhesitatingly +accorded to the same effect in nature herself. Whatever beauty there may +result from effects of light on foreground objects, from the dew of the +grass, the flash of the cascade, the glitter of the birch trunk, or the +fair daylight hues of darker things, (and joyfulness there is in all of +them), there is yet a light which the eye invariably seeks with a deeper +feeling of the beautiful, the light of the declining or breaking day, +and the flakes of scarlet cloud burning like watch-fires in the green +sky of the horizon; a deeper feeling, I say, not perhaps more acute, but +having more of spiritual hope and longing, less of animal and present +life, more manifest, invariably, in those of more serious and determined +mind, (I use the word serious, not as being opposed to cheerful, but to +trivial and volatile;) but, I think, marked and unfailing even in those +of the least thoughtful dispositions. I am willing to let it rest on the +determination of every reader, whether the pleasure which he has +received from these effects of calm and luminous distance be not the +most singular and memorable of which he has been conscious, whether all +that is dazzling in color, perfect in form, gladdening in expression, be +not of evanescent and shallow appealing, when compared with the still +small voice of the level twilight behind purple hills, or the scarlet +arch of dawn over the dark, troublous-edged sea. + + +Sec. 5. Whereto this instinct is traceable. + +Let us try to discover that which effects of this kind possess or +suggest, peculiar to themselves, and which other effects of light and +color possess not. There _must_ be something in them of a peculiar +character, and that, whatever it be, must be one of the primal and most +earnest motives of beauty to human sensation. + +Do they show finer characters of form than can be developed by the +broader daylight? Not so; for their power is almost independent of the +forms they assume or display; it matters little whether the bright +clouds be simple or manifold, whether the mountain line be subdued or +majestic, the fairer forms of earthly things are by them subdued and +disguised, the round and muscular growth of the forest trunks is sunk +into skeleton lines of quiet shade, the purple clefts of the hill-side +are labyrinthed in the darkness, the orbed spring and whirling wave of +the torrent have given place to a white, ghastly, interrupted gleaming. +Have they more perfection or fulness of color? Not so; for their effect +is oftentimes deeper when their hues are dim, than when they are +blazoned with crimson and pale gold; and assuredly, in the blue of the +rainy sky, in the many tints of morning flowers, in the sunlight on +summer foliage and field, there are more sources of mere sensual +color-pleasure than in the single streak of wan and dying light. It is +not then by nobler form, it is not by positiveness of hue, it is not by +intensity of light, (for the sun itself at noonday is effectless upon +the feelings,) that this strange distant space possesses its attractive +power. But there is one thing that it has, or suggests, which no other +object of sight suggests in equal degree, and that is,--Infinity. It is +of all visible things the least material, the least finite, the farthest +withdrawn from the earth prison-house, the most typical of the nature of +God, the most suggestive of the glory of his dwelling-place. For the sky +of night, though we may know it boundless, is dark, it is a studded +vault, a roof that seems to shut us in and down, but the bright distance +has no limit, we feel its infinity, as we rejoice in its purity of +light. + + +Sec. 6. Infinity how necessary in art. + +Now not only is this expression of infinity in distance most precious +wherever we find it, however solitary it may be, and however unassisted +by other forms and kinds of beauty, but it is of that value that no such +other forms will altogether recompense us for its loss; and much as I +dread the enunciation of anything that may seem like a conventional +rule, I have no hesitation in asserting, that no work of any art, in +which this expression of infinity is possible, can be perfect, or +supremely elevated without it, and that in proportion to its presence, +it will exalt and render impressive even the most tame and trivial +themes. And I think if there be any one grand division, by which it is +at all possible to set the productions of painting, so far as their +mere plan or system is concerned, on our right and left hands, it is +this of light and dark background, of heaven light or of object light. +For I know not any truly great painter of any time, who manifests not +the most intense pleasure in the luminous space of his backgrounds, or +who ever sacrifices this pleasure where the nature of his subject admits +of its attainment, as on the other hand I know not that the habitual use +of dark backgrounds can be shown as having ever been co-existent with +pure or high feeling, and, except in the case of Rembrandt, (and then +under peculiar circumstances only,) with any high power of intellect. It +is however necessary carefully to observe the following modifications of +this broad principle. + + +Sec. 7. Conditions of its necessity. + +The absolute necessity, for such indeed I consider it, is of no more +than such a mere luminous distant point as may give to the feelings a +species of escape from all the finite objects about them. There is a +spectral etching of Rembrandt, a presentation of Christ in the temple, +where the figure of a robed priest stands glaring by its gems out of the +gloom, holding a crosier. Behind it there is a subdued window light seen +in the opening between two columns, without which the impressiveness of +the whole subject would, I think, be incalculably brought down. I cannot +tell whether I am at present allowing too much weight to my own fancies +and predilections, but without so much escape into the outer air and +open heaven as this, I can take permanent pleasure in no picture. + + +Sec. 8. And connected analogies. + +And I think I am supported in this feeling by the unanimous practice, if +not the confessed opinion, of all artists. The painter of portrait is +unhappy without his conventional white stroke under the sleeve, or +beside the arm-chair; the painter of interiors feels like a caged bird, +unless he can throw a window open, or set the door ajar; the landscapist +dares not lose himself in forest without a gleam of light under its +farthest branches, nor ventures out in rain, unless he may somewhere +pierce to a better promise in the distance, or cling to some closing gap +of variable blue above;--escape, hope, infinity, by whatever +conventionalism sought, the desire is the same in all, the instinct +constant, it is no mere point of light that is wanted in the etching of +Rembrandt above instanced, a gleam of armor or fold of temple curtain +would have been utterly valueless, neither is it liberty, for though we +cut down hedges and level hills, and give what waste and plain we +choose, on the right hand and the left, it is all comfortless and +undesired, so long as we cleave not a way of escape forward; and however +narrow and thorny and difficult the nearer path, it matters not, so only +that the clouds open for us at its close. Neither will any amount of +beauty in nearer form, make us content to stay with it, so long as we +are shut down to that alone, nor is any form so cold or so hurtful but +that we may look upon it with kindness, so only that it rise against the +infinite hope of light beyond. The reader can follow out the analogies +of this unassisted. + + +Sec. 9. How the dignity of treatment is proportioned to the expression of + infinity. + +But although this narrow portal of escape be all that is absolutely +necessary, I think that the dignity of the painting increases with the +extent and amount of the expression. With the earlier and mightier +painters of Italy, the practice is commonly to leave their distance of +pure and open sky, of such simplicity, that it in nowise shall interfere +with or draw the attention from the interest of the figures, and of such +purity, that especially towards the horizon, it shall be in the highest +degree expressive of the infinite space of heaven. I do not mean to say +that they did this with any occult or metaphysical motives. They did it, +I think, with the child-like, unpretending simplicity of all earnest +men; they did what they loved and felt; they sought what the heart +naturally seeks, and gave what it most gratefully receives; and I look +to them as in all points of principle (not, observe, of knowledge or +empirical attainment) as the most irrefragable authorities, precisely on +account of the child-like innocence, which never deemed itself +authoritative, but acted upon desire, and not upon dicta, and sought for +sympathy, not for admiration. + + +Sec. 10. Examples among the Southern schools. + +And so we find the same simple and sweet treatment, the open sky, the +tender, unpretending, horizontal white clouds, the far winding and +abundant landscape, in Giotto, Taddeo Gaddi, Laurati, Angelico, Benozzo, +Ghirlandajo, Francia, Perogino, and the young Raffaelle, the first +symptom of conventionality appearing in Perugino, who, though with +intense feeling of light and color he carried the glory of his luminous +distance far beyond all his predecessors, began at the same time to use +a somewhat morbid relief of his figures against the upper sky. Thus in +the Assumption of the Florentine Academy, in that of l'Annunziata; and +of the Gallery of Bologna, in all which pictures the lower portions are +incomparably the finest, owing to the light distance behind the heads. +Raffaelle, in his fall, betrayed the faith he had received from his +father and his master, and substituted for the radiant sky of the +Madonna del Cardellino, the chamber-wall of the Madonna della +Sediola--and the brown wainscot of the Baldacchino. Yet it is curious to +observe how much of the dignity even of his later pictures, depends on +such portions as the green light of the lake, and sky behind the rocks, +in the St. John of the tribune, and how the repainted distortion of the +Madonna dell' Impannata, is redeemed into something like elevated +character, merely by the light of the linen window from which it takes +its name. + + +Sec. 11. Among the Venetians. + +That which by the Florentines was done in pure simplicity of heart, was +done by the Venetians with intense love of the color and splendor of the +sky itself, even to the frequent sacrificing of their subject to the +passion of its distance. In Carpaccio, John Bellini, Giorgione, Titian, +Veronese, and Tintoret, the preciousness of the luminous sky, so far as +it might be at all consistent with their subject, is nearly constant; +abandoned altogether in portraiture only, seldom even there, and never +with advantage. Titian and Veronese, who had less exalted feeling than +the others, affording a few instances of exception, the latter +overpowering his silvery distances with foreground splendor, the other +sometimes sacrificing them to a luscious fulness of color, as in the +Flagellation in the Louvre, by a comparison of which with the unequalled +majesty of the Entombment opposite, the whole power and applicability of +the general principle may at once be tested. + + +Sec. 12. Among the painters of landscape. + +But of the value of this mode of treatment there is a farther and more +convincing proof than its adoption either by the innocence of the +Florentine or the ardor of the Venetian, namely, that when retained or +imitated from them by the landscape painters of the seventeenth +century, when appearing in isolation from all other good, among the +weaknesses and paltrinesses of Claude, the mannerisms of Gaspar, and the +caricatures and brutalities of Salvator, it yet redeems and upholds all +three, conquers all foulness by its purity, vindicates all folly by its +dignity, and puts an uncomprehended power of permanent address to the +human heart, upon the lips of the senseless and the profane.[13] + + +Sec. 13. Other modes in which the power of infinity is felt. + +Sec. 14. The beauty of curvature. + +Now, although I doubt not that the general value of this treatment will +be acknowledged by all lovers of art, it is not certain that the point +to prove which I have brought it forward, will be as readily conceded, +namely, the inherent power of all representations of infinity over the +human heart; for there are, indeed, countless associations of pure and +religious kind, which combine with each other to enhance the impression, +when presented in this particular form, whose power I neither deny nor +am careful to distinguish, seeing that they all tend to the same Divine +point, and have reference to heavenly hopes; delights they are in seeing +the narrow, black, miserable earth fairly compared with the bright +firmament, reachings forward unto the things that are before, and +joyfulness in the apparent though unreachable nearness and promise of +them. But there are other modes in which infinity may be represented, +which are confused by no associations of the kind, and which would, as +being in mere matter, appear trivial and mean, but for their +incalculable influence on the forms of all that we feel to be beautiful. +The first of these is the curvature of lines and surfaces, wherein it at +first appears futile to insist upon any resemblance or suggestion of +infinity, since there is certainly in our ordinary contemplation of it, +no sensation of the kind. But I have repeated again and again that the +ideas of beauty are instinctive, and that it is only upon consideration, +and even then in doubtful and disputable way, that they appear in their +typical character; neither do I intend at all to insist upon the +particular meaning which they appear to myself to bear, but merely on +their actual and demonstrable agreeableness, so that, in the present +case, while I assert positively, and have no fear of being able to +prove, that a curve of any kind is more beautiful than a right line, I +leave it to the reader to accept or not, as he pleases, that reason of +its agreeableness, which is the only one that I can at all trace, +namely, that every curve divides itself infinitely by its changes of +direction. + + +Sec. 15. How constant in external nature. + +That all forms of acknowledged beauty are composed exclusively of curves +will, I believe, be at once allowed; but that which there will be need +more especially to prove, is the subtilty and constancy of curvature in +all natural forms whatsoever. I believe that, except in crystals, in +certain mountain forms admitted for the sake of sublimity or contrast, +(as in the slope of debris,) in rays of light, in the levels of calm +water and alluvial land, and in some few organic developments, there are +no lines nor surfaces of nature without curvature, though as we before +saw in clouds, more especially in their under lines towards the horizon, +and in vast and extended plains, right lines are often suggested which +are not actual. Without these we could not be sensible of the value of +the contrasting curves, and while, therefore, for the most part, the eye +is fed in natural forms with a grace of curvature which no hand nor +instrument can follow, other means are provided to give beauty to those +surfaces which are admitted for contrast, as in water by its reflection +of the gradations which it possesses not itself. In freshly-broken +ground, which nature has not yet had time to model, in quarries and +pits which are none of her cutting, in those convulsions and evidences +of convulsion, of whose influence on ideal landscape I shall presently +have occasion to speak, and generally in all ruin and disease, and +interference of one order of being with another, (as in the cattle line +of park trees,) the curves vanish, and violently opposed or broken and +unmeaning lines take their place. + + +Sec. 16. The beauty of gradation. + +What curvature is to lines, gradation is to shades and colors. It is +_there_ infinity, and divides them into an infinite number of degrees. +Absolutely, without gradation no natural surface can possibly be, except +under circumstances of so rare conjunction as to amount to a lusus +naturae; for we have seen that few surfaces are without curvature, and +every curved surface must be gradated by the nature of light, which is +most intense when it impinges at the highest angle, and for the +gradation of the few plane surfaces that exist, means are provided in +local color, aerial perspective, reflected lights, etc., from which it +is but barely conceivable that they should ever escape. Hence for +instances of the complete absence of gradation we must look to man's +work, or to his disease and decrepitude. Compare the gradated colors of +the rainbow with the stripes of a target, and the gradual concentration +of the youthful blood in the cheek with an abrupt patch of rouge, or +with the sharply drawn veining of old age. + + +Sec. 17. How found in Nature. + +Gradation is so inseparable a quality of all natural shade and color +that the eye refuses in art to understand anything as either, which +appears without it, while on the other hand nearly all the gradations of +nature are so subtile and between degrees of tint so slightly separated, +that no human hand can in any wise equal, or do anything more than +suggest the idea of them. In proportion to the space over which +gradation extends, and to its invisible subtilty, is its grandeur, and +in proportion to its narrow limits and violent degrees, its vulgarity. +In Correggio, it is morbid and vulgar in spite of its refinement of +execution, because the eye is drawn to it, and it is made the most +observable and characteristic part of the picture; whereas natural +gradation is forever escaping observation to that degree that the +greater part of artists in working from nature see it not, (except in +certain of its marked developments,) but either lay down such +continuous lines and colors, as are both disagreeable and impossible, +or, receiving the necessity of gradation as a principle instead of a +fact, use it in violently exaggerated measure, and so lose both the +dignity of their own work, and by the constant dwelling of their eyes +upon exaggerations, their sensibility to that of the natural forms. So +that we find the majority of painters divided between the two evil +extremes of insufficiency and affectation, and only a few of the +greatest men capable of making gradation constant and yet extended over +enormous spaces and within degrees of narrow difference, as in the body +of a high light. + + +Sec. 18. How necessary in Art. + +From the necessity of gradation results what is commonly given as a rule +of art, though its authority as a rule obtains only from its being a +fact of nature, that the extremes of high light and pure color, can +exist only in points. The common rules respecting sixths and eighths, +held concerning light and shade, are entirely absurd and conventional; +according to the subject and the effect of light, the greater part of +the picture will be or ought to be light or dark; but that principle +which is not conventional, is that of all light, however high, there is +some part that is higher than the rest, and that of all color, however +pure, there is some part that is purer than the rest, and that generally +of all shade, however deep, there is some part deeper than the rest, +though this last fact is frequently sacrificed in art, owing to the +narrowness of its means. But on the right gradation or focussing of +light and color depends in great measure, the value of both. Of this, I +have spoken sufficiently in pointing out the singular constancy of it in +the works of Turner. Part II. Sect. II. Chap. II. Sec. 17. And it is +generally to be observed that even raw and valueless color, if rightly +and subtilely gradated will in some measure stand for light, and that +the most transparent and perfect hue will be in some measure +unsatisfactory, if entirely unvaried. I believe the early skies of +Raffaelle owe their luminousness more to their untraceable and subtile +gradation than to inherent quality of hue. + + +Sec. 19. Infinity not rightly implied by vastness. + +Such are the expressions of infinity which we find in creation, of which +the importance is to be estimated, rather by their frequency than their +distinctness. Let, however, the reader bear constantly in mind that I +insist not on his accepting any interpretation of mine, but only on his +dwelling so long on those objects, which he perceives to be beautiful, +as to determine whether the qualities to which I trace their beauty, be +necessarily there or no. Farther expressions of infinity there are in +the mystery of nature, and in some measure in her vastness, but these +are dependent on our own imperfections, and therefore, though they +produce sublimity, they are unconnected with beauty. For that which we +foolishly call vastness is, rightly considered, not more wonderful, not +more impressive, than that which we insolently call littleness, and the +infinity of God is not mysterious, it is only unfathomable, not +concealed, but incomprehensible: it is a clear infinity, the darkness of +the pure unsearchable sea. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [13] In one of the smaller rooms of the Pitti palace, over the door, + is a temptation of St. Anthony, by Salvator, wherein such power as + the artist possessed is fully manifested, with little, + comparatively, that is offensive. It is a vigorous and ghastly + thought, in that kind of horror which is dependent on scenic effect, + perhaps unrivalled, and I shall have occasion to refer to it again + in speaking of the powers of imagination. I allude to it here, + because the sky of the distance affords a remarkable instance of the + power of light at present under discussion. It is formed of flakes + of black cloud, with rents and openings of intense and lurid green, + and at least half of the impressiveness of the picture depends on + these openings. Close them, make the sky one mass of gloom, and the + spectre will be awful no longer. It owes to the light of the + distance both its size and its spirituality. The time would fail me + if I were to name the tenth part of the pictures which occur to me, + whose vulgarity is redeemed by this circumstance alone, and yet let + not the artist trust to such morbid and conventional use of it as + may be seen in the common blue and yellow effectism of the present + day. Of the value of moderation and simplicity in the use of this, + as of all other sources of pleasurable emotion, I shall presently + have occasion to speak farther. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + OF UNITY, OR THE TYPE OF THE DIVINE COMPREHENSIVENESS. + + +Sec. 1. The general conception of divine Unity. + +"All things," says Hooker, "(God only excepted,) besides the nature +which they have in themselves, receive externally some perfection from +other things." Hence the appearance of separation or isolation in +anything, and of self-dependence, is an appearance of imperfection: and +all appearances of connection and brotherhood are pleasant and right, +both as significative of perfection in the things united, and as typical +of that Unity which we attribute to God, and of which our true +conception is rightly explained and limited by Dr. Brown in his XCII. +lecture; that Unity which consists not in his own singleness or +separation, but in the necessity of his inherence in all things that be, +without which no creature of any kind could hold existence for a moment. +Which necessity of Divine essence I think it better to speak of as +comprehensiveness, than as unity, because unity is often understood in +the sense of oneness or singleness, instead of universality, whereas the +only Unity which by any means can become grateful or an object of hope +to men, and whose types therefore in material things can be beautiful, +is that on which turned the last words and prayer of Christ before his +crossing of the Kidron brook. "Neither pray I for these alone, but for +them also which shall believe on me through their word. That they all +may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee." + + +Sec. 2. The glory of all things is their Unity. + +And so there is not any matter, nor any spirit, nor any creature, but it +is capable of an unity of some kind with other creatures, and in that +unity is its perfection and theirs, and a pleasure also for the +beholding of all other creatures that can behold. So the unity of +spirits is partly in their sympathy, and partly in their giving and +taking, and always in their love; and these are their delight and their +strength, for their strength is in their co-working and army fellowship, +and their delight is in the giving and receiving of alternate and +perpetual currents of good, their inseparable dependency on each other's +being, and their essential and perfect depending on their Creator's: and +so the unity of earthly creatures is their power and their peace, not +like the dead and cold peace of undisturbed stones and solitary +mountains, but the living peace of trust, and the living power of +support, of hands that hold each other and are still: and so the unity +of matter is, in its noblest form, the organization of it which builds +it up into temples for the spirit, and in its lower form, the sweet and +strange affinity, which gives to it the glory of its orderly elements, +and the fair variety of change and assimilation that turns the dust into +the crystal, and separates the waters that be above the firmament from +the waters that be beneath, and in its lowest form; it is the working +and walking and clinging together that gives their power to the winds, +and its syllables and soundings to the air, and their weight to the +waves, and their burning to the sunbeams, and their stability to the +mountains, and to every creature whatsoever operation is for its glory +and for others good. + +Now of that which is thus necessary to the perfection of all things, all +appearance, sign, type, or suggestion must be beautiful, in whatever +matter it may appear. And so to the perfection of beauty in lines, or +colors, or forms, or masses, or multitudes, the appearance of some +species of unity is in the most determined sense of the word essential. + + +Sec. 3. The several kinds of unity. Subjectional. Original. Of sequence, + and of membership. + +But of the appearances of unity, as of unity itself, there are several +kinds which it will be found hereafter convenient to consider +separately. Thus there is the unity of different and separate things, +subjected to one and the same influence, which may be called +subjectional unity, and this is the unity of the clouds, as they are +driven by the parallel winds, or as they are ordered by the electric +currents, and this the unity of the sea waves, and this of the bending +and undulation of the forest masses, and in creatures capable of will it +is the unity of will or of inspiration. And there is unity of origin, +which we may call original unity, which is of things arising from one +spring and source, and speaking always of this their brotherhood, and +this in matter is the unity of the branches of the trees, and of the +petals and starry rays of flowers, and of the beams of light, and in +spiritual creatures it is their filial relation to Him from whom they +have their being. And there is unity of sequence, which is that of +things that form links in chains, and steps in ascent, and stages in +journeys, and this, in matter, is the unity of communicable forces in +their continuance from one thing to another, and it is the passing +upwards and downwards of beneficent effects among all things, and it is +the melody of sounds, and the beauty of continuous lines, and the +orderly succession of motions and times. And in spiritual creatures it +is their own constant building up by true knowledge and continuous +reasoning to higher perfection, and the singleness and +straight-forwardness of their tendencies to more complete communion with +God. And there is the unity of membership, which we may call essential +unity, which is the unity of things separately imperfect into a perfect +whole, and this is the great unity of which other unities are but parts +and means, it is in matter the harmony of sounds and consistency of +bodies, and among spiritual creatures, their love and happiness and very +life in God. + + +Sec. 4. Unity of membership. How secured. + +Now of the nature of this last kind of unity, the most important whether +in moral or in those material things with which we are at present +concerned, there is this necessary to be observed, that it cannot exist +between things similar to each other. Two or more equal and like things +cannot be members one of another, nor can they form one, or a whole +thing. Two they must remain, both in nature and in our conception, so +long as they remain alike, unless they are united by a third different +from both. Thus the arms, which are like each other, remain two arms in +our conception. They could not be united by a third arm, they must be +united by something which is not an arm, and which, imperfect without +them as they without it, shall form one perfect body; nor is unity even +thus accomplished, without a difference and opposition of direction in +the setting on of the like members. Therefore among all things which are +to have unity of membership one with another, there must be difference +or variety; and though it is possible that many like things may be made +members of one body, yet it is remarkable that this structure appears +characteristic of the lower creatures, rather than the higher, as the +many legs of the caterpillar, and the many arms and suckers of the +radiata, and that, as we rise in order of being, the number of similar +members becomes less, and their structure commonly seems based on the +principle of the unity of two things by a third, as Plato has it in the +Timaeus, Sec. II. + + +Sec. 5. Variety. Why required. + +Hence, out of the necessity of unity, arises that of variety, a +necessity often more vividly, though never so deeply felt, because lying +at the surfaces of things, and assisted by an influential principle of +our nature, the love of change, and the power of contrast. But it is a +mistake which has led to many unfortunate results, in matters respecting +art, to insist on any inherent agreeableness of variety, without +reference to a farther end. For it is not even true that variety as +such, and in its highest degree, is beautiful. A patched garment of many +colors is by no means so agreeable as one of a single and continuous +hue; the splendid colors of many birds are eminently painful from their +violent separation and inordinate variety, while the pure and colorless +swan is, under certain circumstances, the most beautiful of all +feathered creatures.[14] A forest of all manner of trees is poor, if not +disagreeable in effect,[15] a mass of one species of tree is sublime. It +is therefore only harmonious and chordal variety, that variety which is +necessary to secure and extend unity, (for the greater the number of +objects, which by their differences become members of one another, the +more extended and sublime is their unity,) which is rightly agreeable, +and so I name not variety as essential to beauty, because it is only so +in a secondary and casual sense.[16] + + +Sec. 6. Change, and its influence on beauty. + +Sec. 7. The love of change. How morbid and evil. + +Of the love of change as a principle of human nature, and the +pleasantness of variety resulting from it, something has already been +said, (Ch. IV. Sec. 4,) only as there I was opposing the idea that our +being familiar with objects was the cause of our delight in them, so +here, I have to oppose the contrary position, that their strangeness is +the cause of it. For neither familiarity nor strangeness have more +operation on, or connection with, impressions of one sense than of +another, and they have less power over the impressions of sense +generally, than over the intellect in its joyful accepting of fresh +knowledge, and dull contemplation of that it has long possessed. Only in +their operation on the senses they act contrarily at different times, as +for instance the newness of a dress or of some kind of unaccustomed food +may make it for a time delightful, but as the novelty passes away, so +also may the delight, yielding to disgust or indifference, which in +their turn, as custom begins to operate, may pass into affection and +craving, and that which was first a luxury, and then a matter of +indifference, becomes a necessity:[17] whereas in subjects of the +intellect, the chief delight they convey is dependent upon their being +newly and vividly comprehended, and as they become subjects of +contemplation they lose their value, and become tasteless and +unregarded, except as instruments for the reaching of others, only that +though they sink down into the shadowy, effectless, heap of things +indifferent, which we pack, and crush down, and stand upon, to reach +things new, they sparkle afresh at intervals as we stir them by throwing +a new stone into the heap, and letting the newly admitted lights play +upon them. And both in subjects of the intellect and the senses it is to +be remembered, that the love of change is a weakness and imperfection of +our nature, and implies in it the state of probation, and that it is to +teach us that things about us here are not meant for our continual +possession or satisfaction, that ever such passion of change was put in +us as that "custom lies upon us with a weight, heavy as frost, and deep +almost as life," and only such weak back and baby grasp given to our +intellect as that "the best things we do are painful, and the exercise +of them grievous, being continued without intermission, so as in those +very actions whereby we are especially perfected in this life we are not +able to persist." And so it will be found that they are the +weakest-minded and the hardest-hearted men that most love variety and +change, for the weakest-minded are those who both wonder most at things +new, and digest worst things old, in so far that everything they have +lies rusty, and loses lustre for want of use; neither do they make any +stir among their possessions, nor look over them to see what may be made +of them, nor keep any great store, nor are householders with storehouses +of things new and old, but they catch at the new-fashioned garments, and +let the moth and thief look after the rest; and the hardest-hearted men +are those that least feel the endearing and binding power of custom, and +hold on by no cords of affection to any shore, but drive with the waves +that cast up mire and dirt. And certainly it is not to be held that the +perception of beauty and desire of it, are greatest in the hardest heart +and weakest brain; but the love of variety is so, and therefore variety +can be no cause of the beautiful, except, as I have said, when it is +necessary for the perception of unity, neither is there any better test +of that which is indeed beautiful than its surviving or annihilating the +love of change; and this is a test which the best judges of art have +need frequently to use; and the wisest of them will use it always, for +there is much in art that surprises by its brilliancy, or attracts by +its singularity, that can hardly but by course of time, though assuredly +it will by course of time, be winnowed away from the right and real +beauty whose retentive power is forever on the increase, a bread of the +soul for which the hunger is continual. + + +Sec. 8. The conducting of variety towards unity of subjection. + +Receiving, therefore, variety only as that which accomplishes unity, or +makes it perceived, its operation is found to be very precious, both in +that which I have called unity of subjection, and unity of sequence, as +well as in unity of membership; for although things in all respects the +same may, indeed, be subjected to one influence, yet the power of the +influence, and their obedience to it, is best seen by varied operation +of it on their individual differences, as in clouds and waves there is a +glorious unity of rolling, wrought out by the wild and wonderful +differences of their absolute forms, which, if taken away, would leave +in them only multitudinous and petty repetition, instead of the majestic +oneness of shared passion. And so in the waves and clouds of human +multitude when they are filled with one thought, as we find frequently +in the works of the early Italian men of earnest purpose, who despising, +or happily ignorant of, the sophistications of theories, and the +proprieties of composition, indicated by perfect similarity of action +and gesture on the one hand, and by the infinite and truthful variation +of expression on the other, the most sublime strength because the most +absorbing unity, of multitudinous passion that ever human heart +conceived. Hence, in the cloister of St. Mark's, the intense, fixed, +statue-like silence of ineffable adoration upon the spirits in prison at +the feet of Christ, side by side, the hands lifted, and the knees bowed, +and the lips trembling together;[18] and in St. Domenico of Fiesole,[19] +that whirlwind rush of the Angels and the redeemed souls round about him +at his resurrection, so that we hear the blast of the horizontal +trumpets mixed with the dying clangor of their ingathered wings. The +same great feeling occurs throughout the works of the serious men, +though most intensely in Angelico, and it is well to compare with it the +vileness and falseness of all that succeeded, when men had begun to +bring to the cross foot their systems instead of their sorrow. Take as +the most marked and degraded instance, perhaps, to be anywhere found, +Bronzino's treatment of the same subject (Christ visiting the spirits in +prison,) in the picture now in the Tuscan room of the Uffizii, which, +vile as it is in color, vacant in invention, void in light and shade, a +heap of cumbrous nothingnesses, and sickening offensivenesses, is of all +its voids most void in this, that the academy models therein huddled +together at the bottom, show not so much unity or community of attention +to the academy model with the flag in its hand above, as a street crowd +would be to a fresh-staged charlatan. Some _point_ to the God who has +burst the gates of death, as if the rest were incapable of +distinguishing him for themselves, and others turn their backs upon him, +to show their unagitated faces to the spectator. + + +Sec. 9. And towards unity of sequence. + +In unity of sequence, the effect of variety is best exemplified by the +melodies of music, wherein by the differences of the notes, they are +connected with each other in certain pleasant relations. This connection +taking place in quantities is proportion, respecting which certain +general principles must be noted, as the subject is one open to many +errors, and obscurely treated of by writers on art. + + +Sec. 10. The nature of proportion. 1st, of apparent proportion. + +Proportion is of two distinct kinds. Apparent: when it takes place +between qualities for the sake of connection only, without any ultimate +object or casual necessity; and constructive: when it has reference to +some function to be discharged by the quantities, depending on their +proportion. From the confusion of these two kinds of proportion have +arisen the greater part of the erroneous conceptions of the influence of +either. + +Apparent proportion, or the sensible relation of quantities, is one of +the most important means of obtaining unity between things which +otherwise must have remained distinct in similarity, and as it may +consist with every other kind of unity, and persist when every other +means of it fails, it may be considered as lying at the root of most of +our impressions of the beautiful. There is no sense of rightness, or +wrongness connected with it, no sense of utility, propriety, or +expediency. These ideas enter only where the proportion of quantities +has reference to some function to be performed by them. It cannot be +asserted that it is right or that it is wrong that A should be to B, as +B to C; unless A, B, and C have some desirable operation dependent on +that relation. But nevertheless it may be highly agreeable to the eye +that A, B, and C, if visible things, should have visible connection of +ratio, even though nothing be accomplished by such connection. On the +other hand, constructive proportion, or the adaptation of quantities to +functions, is agreeable not to the eye, but to the mind, which is +cognizant of the function to be performed. Thus the pleasantness or +rightness of the proportions of a column depends not on the mere +relation of diameter and height, (which is not proportion at all, for +proportion is between three terms at least,) but on three other involved +terms, the strength of materials, the weight to be borne, and the scale +of the building. The proportions of a wooden column are wrong in a stone +one, and of a small building wrong in a large one,[20] and this owing +solely to mechanical considerations, which have no more to do with +ideas of beauty, than the relation between the arms of a lever, adapted +to the raising of a given weight; and yet it is highly agreeable to +perceive that such constructive proportion has been duly observed, as +it is agreeable to see that anything is fit for its purpose or for ours, +and also that it has been the result of intelligence in the workman of +it, so that we sometimes feel a pleasure in apparent non-adaptation, if +it be a sign of ingenuity; as in the unnatural and seemingly impossible +lightness of Gothic spires and roofs. + +Now, the errors against which I would caution the reader in this matter +are three. The first, is the overlooking or denial of the power of +apparent proportion, of which power neither Burke nor any other writer +whose works I have met with, take cognizance. The second, is the +attribution of _beauty_ to the appearances of constructive proportion. +The third, the denial with Burke of _any_ value or agreeableness in +constructive proportion. + + +Sec. 11. The value of apparent proportion in curvature. + +Now, the full proof of the influence of apparent proportion, I must +reserve for illustration by diagram; one or two instances however may be +given at present for the better understanding of its nature. + +We have already asserted that all curves are more beautiful than right +lines. All curves, however, are not equally beautiful, and their +differences of beauty depend on the different proportions borne to each +other by those infinitely small right lines of which they may be +conceived as composed. + +When these lines are equal and contain equal angles, there can be no +connection or unity of sequence in them. The resulting curve, the +circle, is therefore the least beautiful of all curves. + +When the lines bear to each other some certain proportion; or when, the +lines remaining equal, the angles vary; or when by any means whatsoever, +and in whatever complicated modes, such differences as shall imply +connection are established between the infinitely small segments, the +resulting curves become beautiful. The simplest of the beautiful curves +are the conic, and the various spirals; but it is as rash as it is +difficult to endeavor to trace any ground of superiority or inferiority +among the infinite numbers of the higher curves. I believe that almost +all are beautiful in their own nature, and that their comparative beauty +depends on the constant quantities involved in their equations. Of this +point I shall speak hereafter at greater length. + + +Sec. 12. How by nature obtained. + +The universal forces of nature, and the individual energies of the +matter submitted to them, are so appointed and balanced, that they are +continually bringing out curves of this kind in all visible forms, and +that circular lines become nearly impossible under any circumstances. +The gradual acceleration, for instance, of velocity, in streams that +descend from hill-sides, as it gradually increases their power of +erosion increases in the same gradual degree the rate of curvature in +the descent of the slope, until at a certain degree of steepness this +descent meets, and is concealed by the right line of the detritus. The +junction of this right line with the plain is again modified by the +farther bounding of the larger blocks, and by the successively +diminishing proportion of landslips caused by erosion at the bottom, so +that the whole line of the hill is one of curvature, first, gradually +increasing in rapidity to the maximum steepness of which the particular +rock is capable, and then decreasing in a decreasing ratio, until it +arrives at the plain level. This type of form, modified of course more +or less by the original boldness of the mountain, and dependent both on +its age, its constituent rock, and the circumstances of its exposure, is +yet in its general formula applicable to all. So the curves of all +things in motion, and of all organic forms, most rudely and simply in +the shell spirals, and in their most complicated development in the +muscular lines of the higher animals. + +This influence of apparent proportion, a proportion, be it observed, +which has no reference to ultimate ends, but which is itself, seemingly, +the end and object of operation in many of the forces of nature, is +therefore at the root of all our delight in any beautiful form +whatsoever. For no form can be beautiful which is not composed of curves +whose unity is secured by relations of this kind. + + +Sec. 13. Apparent proportion in melodies of line. + +Not only however in curvature, but in all associations of lines +whatsoever, it is desirable that there should be reciprocal relation, +and the eye is unhappy without perception of it. It is utterly vain to +endeavor to reduce this proportion to finite rules, for it is as various +as musical melody, and the laws to which it is subject are of the same +general kind, so that the determination of right or wrong proportion is +as much a matter of feeling and experience as the appreciation of good +musical composition; not but that there is a science of both, and +principles which may not be infringed, but that within these limits the +liberty of invention is infinite, and the degrees of excellence infinite +also, whence the curious error of Burke in imagining that because he +could not fix upon some one given proportion of lines as better than any +other, therefore proportion had no value nor influence at all, which is +the same as to conclude that there is no such thing as melody in music, +because there are melodies more than one. + + +Sec. 14. Error of Burke in this matter. + +The argument of Burke on this subject is summed up in the following +words:--"Examine the head of a beautiful horse, find what proportion +that bears to his body and to his limbs, and what relations these have +to each other, and when you have settled these proportions, as a +standard of beauty, then take a dog or cat, or any other animal, and +examine how far the same proportions between their heads and their +necks, between those and the body, and so on, are found to hold; I think +we may safely say, that they differ in every species, yet that there are +individuals found in a great many species, so differing, that have a +very striking beauty. Now if it be allowed that very different, and even +contrary forms and dispositions, are consistent with beauty, it amounts, +I believe, to a concession, that no certain measures operating from a +natural principle are necessary to produce it, at least so far as the +brute species is concerned." + +In this argument there are three very palpable fallacies: the first is +the rough application of measurement to the heads, necks, and limbs, +without observing the subtile differences of proportion and position of +parts in the members themselves, for it would be strange if the +different adjustment of the ears and brow in the dog and horse, did not +require a harmonizing difference of adjustment in the head and neck. The +second fallacy is that above specified, the supposition that proportion +cannot be beautiful if susceptible of variation, whereas the whole +meaning of the term has reference to the adjustment and functional +correspondence of infinitely variable quantities. And the third error is +the oversight of the very important fact, that, although "different and +even contrary forms and dispositions are consistent with beauty," they +are by no means consistent with equal _degrees_ of beauty, so that, +while we find in all the presence of such proportion and harmony of +form, as gifts them with positive agreeableness consistent with the +station and dignity of each, we perceive, also, such superiority of +proportion in some (as the horse, eagle, lion, and man for instance) as +may best be in harmony with the nobler functions and more exalted powers +of the animals. + + +Sec. 15. Constructive proportion. Its influence in plants. + +And this allowed superiority of some animal forms to others is, in +itself argument against the second error above named, that of +attributing the sensation of beauty to the perception of expedient or +constructive proportion. For everything that God has made is equally +well constructed with reference to its intended functions. But all +things are not equally beautiful. The megatherium is absolutely as well +proportioned, with the view of adaptation of parts to purposes, as the +horse or the swan; but by no means so handsome as either. The fact is, +that the perception of expediency of proportion can but rarely affect +our estimates of beauty, for it implies a knowledge which we very rarely +and imperfectly possess, and the want of which we tacitly acknowledge. + +Let us consider that instance of the proportion of the stalk of a plant +to its head, given by Burke. In order to judge of the expediency of this +proportion, we must know, First, the scale of the plant (for the smaller +the scale, the longer the stem may safely be). Secondly, the toughness +of the materials of the stem and the mode of their mechanical structure. +Thirdly, the specific gravity of the head. Fourthly, the position of the +head which the nature of fructification requires. Fifthly, the accidents +and influences to which the situation for which the plant was created is +exposed. Until we know all this, we cannot say that proportion or +disproportion exists, and because we cannot know all this, the idea of +expedient proportion enters but slightly into our impression of +vegetable beauty, but rather, since the existence of the plant proves +that these proportions have been observed, and we know that nothing but +our own ignorance prevents us from perceiving them, we take the +proportion on credit, and are delighted by the variety of results which +the Divine intelligence has attained in the various involutions of these +quantities, and perhaps most when, to outward appearance, such +proportions have been violated; more by the slenderness of the campanula +than the security of the pine. + + +Sec. 16. And animals. + +What is obscure in plants, is utterly incomprehensible in animals, owing +to the greater number of means employed and functions performed. To +judge of expedient proportion in them, we must know all that each member +has to do, all its bones, all its muscles, and the amount of nervous +energy communicable to them; and yet, forasmuch as we have more +experience and instinctive sense of the strength of muscles than of +wood, and more practical knowledge of the use of a head or a foot than +of a flower or a stem, we are much more likely to presume upon our +judgment respecting proportions here, we are very apt to assert that the +plesiosaurus and camelopard have necks too long, that the turnspit has +legs too short, and the elephant a body too ponderous. + +But the painfulness arising from the idea of this being the case is +occasioned partly by our sympathy with the animal, partly by our false +apprehension of incompletion in the Divine work,[21] nor in either case +has it any connection with impressions of that typical beauty of which +we are at present speaking; though some, perhaps, with that vital beauty +which will hereafter come under discussion. + + +Sec. 17. Summary. + +I wish therefore the reader to hold, respecting proportion generally. +First, That apparent proportion, or the melodious connection of +quantities, is a cause of unity, and therefore one of the sources of all +beautiful form. Secondly, That constructive proportion is agreeable to +the mind when it is known or supposed, and that its seeming absence is +painful in a like degree, but that this pleasure and pain have nothing +in common with those dependent on ideas of beauty. + +Farther illustrations of the value of unity I shall reserve for our +detailed examination, as the bringing them forward here would interfere +with the general idea of the subject-matter of the theoretic faculty +which I wish succinctly to convey. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [14] Compare Chap. ix. Sec. 5, note. + + [15] Spenser's various forest is the Forest of Error. + + [16] It must be matter of no small wonderment to practical men to + observe how grossly the nature and connection of unity and variety + have been misunderstood and misstated, by those writers upon taste, + who have been guided by no experience of art; most singularly + perhaps by Mr. Alison, who, confounding unity with uniformity, and + leading his readers through thirty pages of discussion respecting + uniformity and variety, the intelligibility of which is not by any + means increased by his supposing uniformity to be capable of + existence in single things; at last substitutes for these two terms, + sufficiently contradictory already, those of similarity and + dissimilarity, the reconciliation of which opposites in one thing we + must, I believe, leave Mr. Alison to accomplish. + + [17] [Greek: Kai to tauta prattein pollakis hedy;--to gar synethes + hedy en; kai to metaballein hedy; eis physin gar gignetai + metaballein.]--Arist. Rhet. I. II. 20. + + [18] Fra Angelico's fresco, in a cell of the upper cloister. He + treated the subject frequently. Another characteristic example + occurs in the Vita di Christo of the Academy, a series now + unfortunately destroyed by the picture cleaners. Simon Memmi in + Santa Maria Novella (Chapelle des Espagnols) has given another very + beautiful instance. In Giotto the principle is universal, though his + multitudes are somewhat more dramatically and powerfully varied in + gesture than Angelico's. In Mino da Fiesole's altar-piece in the + church of St. Ambrogiot at Florence, close by Cosimo Rosselli's + fresco, there is a beautiful example in marble. + + [19] The Predella of the picture behind the altar. + + [20] It seems never to have been rightly understood, even by the + more intelligent among our architects, that proportion is in any way + connected with positive size; it seems to be held among them that a + small building may be expanded to a large one merely by + proportionally expanding all its parts: and that the harmony will be + equally agreeable on whatever scale it be rendered. Now this is true + of apparent proportion, but utterly false of constructive; and, as + much of the value of architectural proportion is constructive, the + error is often productive of the most painful results. It may be + best illustrated by observing the conditions of proportion in + animals. Many persons have thoughtlessly claimed admiration for the + strength--supposed gigantic--of insects and smaller animals; because + capable of lifting weights, leaping distances, and surmounting + obstacles, of proportion apparently overwhelming. Thus the Formica + Herculanea will lift in its mouth, and brandish like a baton, sticks + thicker than itself and six times its length, all the while + scrambling over crags of about the proportionate height of the + Cliffs of Dover, three or four in a minute. There is nothing + extraordinary in this, nor any exertion of strength necessarily + greater than human, in proportion to the size of the body. For it is + evident that if the size and strength of any creature be expanded or + diminished in proportion to each other, the distance through which + it can leap, the time it can maintain exertion, or any other third + term resultant, remains constant; that is, diminish weight of powder + and of ball proportionately, and the distance carried is constant or + nearly so. Thus, a grasshopper, a man, and a giant 100 feet high, + supposing their muscular strength equally proportioned to their + size, can or could all leap, not proportionate distance, but the + same or nearly the same distance--say, four feet the grasshopper, or + forty-eight times his length; six feet the man or his length + exactly; ten feet the giant or the tenth of his length. Hence all + small animals can, _coeteris paribus_, perform feats of strength + and agility, exactly so much greater than those to be executed by + large ones, as the animals themselves are smaller; and to enable an + elephant to leap like a grasshopper, he must be endowed with + strength a million times greater in _proportion_ to his size. Now + the consequence of this general mechanical law is, that as we + increase the scale of animals, their means of power, whether muscles + of motion or bones of support, must be increased in a more than + proportionate degree, or they become utterly unwieldy, and incapable + of motion;--and there is a limit to this increase of strength. If + the elephant had legs as long as a spider's, no combination of + animal matter that could be hide-bound would have strength enough to + move them: to support the megatherium, we must have a humerus a foot + in diameter, though perhaps not more than two feet long, and that in + a vertical position under him, while the gnat can hang on the window + frame, and poise himself to sting, in the middle of crooked stilts + like threads; stretched out to ten times the breadth of his body on + each side. Increase the size of the megatherium a little more, and + no phosphate of lime will bear him; he would crush his own legs to + powder. (Compare Sir Charles Bell, "Bridgewater Treatise on the + Hand," p. 296, and the note.) Hence there is not only a limit to the + size of animals, in the conditions of matter, but to their activity + also, the largest being always least capable of exertion; and this + would be the case to a far greater extent, but that nature + beneficently alters her proportions as she increases her scale; + giving, as we have seen, long legs and enormous wings to the smaller + tribes, and short and thick proportion to the larger. So in + vegetables--compare the stalk of an ear of oat, and the trunk of a + pine, the mechanical relations being in both the same. So also in + waves, of which the large never can be mere exaggerations of the + small, but have different slopes and curvatures: so in mountains and + all things else, necessarily, and from ordinary mechanical laws. + Whence in architecture, according to the scale of the building, its + proportions must be altered; and I have no hesitation in calling + that unmeaning exaggeration of parts in St. Peter's, of flutings, + volutes, friezes, etc., in the proportions of a smaller building, a + vulgar blunder, and one that destroys all the majesty that the + building ought to have had--and still more I should so call all + imitations and adaptations of large buildings on a small scale. The + true test of right proportion is that it shall itself inform us of + the scale of the building, and be such that even in a drawing it + shall instantly induce the conception of the actual size, or size + intended. I know not what Fuseli means by that aphorism of his:-- + + "Disproportion of parts is the element of hugeness--proportion, of + grandeur. All Gothic styles of Architecture are huge. The Greek + alone is grand." When a building _is_ vast, it ought to look so; and + the proportion is right which exhibits its vastness. Nature loses no + size by her proportion; her buttressed mountains have more of Gothic + than of Greek in them. + + [21] For the just and severe reproof of which, compare Sir Charles + Bell, (on the hand,) pp. 31, 32. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + OF REPOSE, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE PERMANENCE. + + +Sec. 1. Universal feeling respecting the necessity of repose in art. Its + sources. + +There is probably no necessity more imperatively felt by the artist, no +test more unfailing of the greatness of artistical treatment, than that +of the appearance of repose, and yet there is no quality whose semblance +in mere matter is more difficult to define or illustrate. Nevertheless, +I believe that our instinctive love of it, as well as the cause to which +I attribute that love, (although here also, as in the former cases, I +contend not for the interpretation, but for the fact,) will be readily +allowed by the reader. As opposed to passion, changefulness, or +laborious exertion, repose is the especial and separating characteristic +of the eternal mind and power; it is the "I am" of the Creator opposed +to the "I become" of all creatures; it is the sign alike of the supreme +knowledge which is incapable of surprise, the supreme power which is +incapable of labor, the supreme volition which is incapable of change; +it is the stillness of the beams of the eternal chambers laid upon the +variable waters of ministering creatures; and as we saw before that the +infinity which was a type of the Divine nature on the one hand, became +yet more desirable on the other from its peculiar address to our prison +hopes, and to the expectations of an unsatisfied and unaccomplished +existence, so the types of this third attribute of the Deity might seem +to have been rendered farther attractive to mortal instinct, through the +infliction upon the fallen creature of a curse necessitating a labor +once unnatural and still most painful, so that the desire of rest +planted in the heart is no sensual nor unworthy one, but a longing for +renovation and for escape from a state whose every phase is mere +preparation for another equally transitory, to one in which permanence +shall have become possible through perfection. Hence the great call of +Christ to men, that call on which St. Augustine fixed essential +expression of Christian hope, is accompanied by the promise of rest;[22] +and the death bequest of Christ to men is peace. + + +Sec. 2. Repose how expressed in matter. + +Repose, as it is expressed in material things, is either a simple +appearance of permanence and quietness, as in the massy forms of a +mountain or rock, accompanied by the lulling effect of all mighty sight +and sound, which all feel and none define, (it would be less sacred if +more explicable,) [Greek: heudousin dioreon koruphai te kai pharanges], +or else it is repose proper, the rest of things in which there is +vitality or capability of motion actual or imagined; and with respect to +these the expression of repose is greater in proportion to the amount +and sublimity of the action which is not taking place, as well as to the +intensity of the negation of it. Thus we speak not of repose in a stone, +because the motion of a stone has nothing in it of energy nor vitality, +neither its repose of stability. But having once seen a great rock come +down a mountain side, we have a noble sensation of its rest, now bedded +immovably among the under fern, because the power and fearfulness of its +motion were great, and its stability and negation of motion are now +great in proportion. Hence the imagination, which delights in nothing +more than the enhancing of the characters of repose, effects this +usually by either attributing to things visibly energetic an ideal +stability, or to things visibly stable an ideal activity or vitality. +Hence Wordsworth, of the cloud, which in itself having too much of +changefulness for his purpose, is spoken of as one "that heareth not the +loud winds when they call, and moveth altogether, if it move at all." +And again of children, which, that it may remove from them the child +restlessness, the imagination conceives as rooted flowers "Beneath an +old gray oak, as violets, lie." On the other hand, the scattered rocks, +which have not, as such, vitality enough for rest, are gifted with it by +the living image: they "lie couched around us like a flock of sheep." + + +Sec. 3. The necessity to repose of an implied energy. + +Thus, as we saw that unity demanded for its expression what at first +might have seemed its contrary (variety) so repose demands for its +expression the implied capability of its opposite, energy, and this even +in its lower manifestations, in rocks and stones and trees. By comparing +the modes in which the mind is disposed to regard the boughs of a fair +and vigorous tree, motionless in the summer air, with the effect +produced by one of these same boughs hewn square and used for threshold +or lintel, the reader will at once perceive the connection of vitality +with repose, and the part they both bear in beauty. + + +Sec. 4. Mental repose, how noble. + +But that which in lifeless things ennobles them by seeming to indicate +life, ennobles higher creatures by indicating the exaltation of their +earthly vitality into a Divine vitality; and raising the life of sense +into the life of faith--faith, whether we receive it in the sense of +adherence to resolution, obedience to law, regardfulness of promise, in +which from all time it has been the test as the shield of the true being +and life of man, or in the still higher sense of trustfulness in the +presence, kindness, and word of God; in which form it has been exhibited +under the Christian dispensation. For whether in one or other form, +whether the faithfulness of men whose path is chosen and portion fixed, +in the following and receiving of that path and portion, as in the +Thermopylae camp; or the happier faithfulness of children in the good +giving of their Father, and of subjects in the conduct of their king, as +in the "Stand still and see the salvation of God" of the Red Sea shore, +there is rest and peacefulness, the "standing still" in both, the +quietness of action determined, of spirit unalarmed, of expectation +unimpatient: beautiful, even when based only as of old, on the +self-command and self-possession, the persistent dignity or the +uncalculating love of the creature,[23] but more beautiful yet when the +rest is one of humility instead of pride, and the trust no more in the +resolution we have taken, but in the hand we hold. + + +Sec. 5. Its universal value as a test of art. + +Hence I think that there is no desire more intense or more exalted than +that which exists in all rightly disciplined minds for the evidences of +repose in external signs, and what I cautiously said respecting +infinity, I say fearlessly respecting repose, that no work of art can be +great without it, and that all art is great in proportion to the +appearance of it. It is the most unfailing test of beauty, whether of +matter or of motion, nothing can be ignoble that possesses it, nothing +right that has it not, and in strict proportion to its appearance in the +work is the majesty of mind to be inferred in the artificer. Without +regard to other qualities, we may look to this for our evidence, and by +the search for this alone we may be led to the rejection of all that is +base, and the accepting of all that is good and great, for the paths of +wisdom are all peace. We shall see by this light three colossal images +standing up side by side, looming in their great rest of spirituality +above the whole world horizon, Phidias, Michael Angelo, and Dante; and +then, separated from their great religious thrones only by less fulness +and earnestness of Faith, Homer, and Shakspeare; and from these we may +go down step by step among the mighty men of every age, securely and +certainly observant of diminished lustre in every appearance of +restlessness and effort, until the last trace of true inspiration +vanishes in the tottering affectations or the tortured insanities of +modern times. There is no art, no pursuit, whatsoever, but its results +may be classed by this test alone; everything of evil is betrayed and +winnowed away by it, glitter and confusion and glare of color, +inconsistency or absence of thought, forced expression, evil choice of +subject, over accumulation of materials, whether in painting or +literature, the shallow and unreflecting nothingness of the English +schools of art, the strained and disgusting horrors of the French, the +distorted feverishness of the German:--pretence, over decoration, over +division of parts in architecture, and again in music, in acting, in +dancing, in whatsoever art, great or mean, there are yet degrees of +greatness or meanness entirely dependent on this single quality of +repose. + + +Sec. 6. Instances in the Laocoon and Theseus. + +Particular instances are at present both needless and cannot but be +inadequate; needless, because I suppose that every reader, however +limited his experience of art, can supply many for himself, and +inadequate, because no number of them could illustrate the full extent +of the influence of the expression. I believe, however, that by +comparing the disgusting convulsions of the Laocoon, with the Elgin +Theseus, we may obtain a general idea of the effect of the influence, as +shown by its absence in one, and presence in the other, of two works +which, as far as artistical merit is concerned, are in some measure +parallel, not that I believe, even in this respect, the Laocoon +justifiably comparable with the Theseus. I suppose that no group has +exercised so pernicious an influence on art as this, a subject ill +chosen, meanly conceived and unnaturally treated, recommended to +imitation by subtleties of execution and accumulation of technical +knowledge.[24] + + +Sec. 7. And in altar tombs. + +In Christian art, it would be well to compare the feeling of the finer +among the altar tombs of the middle ages, with any monumental works +after Michael Angelo, perhaps more especially with works of Roubilliac +or Canova. + +In the Cathedral of Lucca, near the entrance door of the north transept, +there is a monument of Jacopo della Quercia's to Ilaria di Caretto, the +wife of Paolo Guinigi. I name it not as more beautiful or perfect than +other examples of the same period, but as furnishing an instance of the +exact and right mean between the rigidity and rudeness of the earlier +monumental effigies, and the morbid imitation of life, sleep, or death, +of which the fashion has taken place in modern times.[25] She is lying +on a simple couch, with a hound at her feet, not on the side, but with +the head laid straight and simply on the hard pillow, in which, let it +be observed, there is no effort at deceptive imitation of pressure. It +is understood as a pillow, but not mistaken for one. The hair is bound +in a flat braid over the fair brow, the sweet and arched eyes are +closed, the tenderness of the loving lips is set and quiet, there is +that about them which forbids breath, something which is not death nor +sleep, but the pure image of both. The hands are not lifted in prayer, +neither folded, but the arms are laid at length upon the body, and the +hands cross as they fall. The feet are hidden by the drapery, and the +forms of the limbs concealed, but not their tenderness. + +If any of us, after staying for a time beside this tomb, could see +through his tears, one of the vain and unkind encumbrances of the grave, +which, in these hollow and heartless days, feigned sorrow builds to +foolish pride, he would, I believe, receive such a lesson of love as no +coldness could refuse, no fatuity forget, and no insolence disobey. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [22] Matt. xi. 28. + + [23] "The universal instinct of repose, + The longing for confirmed tranquillity + Inward and outward, humble, yet sublime. + The life where hope and memory are as one. + Earth quiet and unchanged; the human soul + Consistent in self-rule; and heaven revealed + To meditation, in that quietness." + + WORDSWORTH. Excursion, Book iii. + + But compare carefully (for this is put into the mouth of one + diseased in thought and erring in seeking) the opening of the ninth + book; and observe the difference between the mildew of + inaction,--the slumber of Death; and the Patience of the Saints--the + Rest of the Sabbath Eternal. (Rev. xiv. 13.) + + Compare also, Chap. I. Sec. 6. + + [24] I would also have the reader compare with the meagre lines and + contemptible tortures of the Laocoon, the awfulness and quietness of + M. Angelo's treatment of a subject in most respects similar, (the + plague of the Fiery Serpents,) but of which the choice was justified + both by the place which the event holds in the typical system he had + to arrange, and by the grandeur of the plague itself, in its + multitudinous grasp, and its mystical salvation; sources of + sublimity entirely wanting to the slaughter of the Dardan priest. It + is good to see how his gigantic intellect reaches after repose, and + truthfully finds it, in the falling hand of the near figure, and in + the deathful decline of that whose hands are held up even in their + venom coldness to the cross; and though irrelevant to our present + purpose, it is well also to note how the grandeur of this treatment + results, not merely from choice, but from a greater knowledge and + more faithful rendering of truth. For whatever knowledge of the + human frame there may be in the Laocoon, there is certainly none of + the habits of serpents. The fixing of the snake's head in the side + of the principal figure is as false to nature, as it is poor in + composition of line. A large serpent never wants to bite, it wants + to hold, it seizes therefore always where it can hold best, by the + extremities, or throat, it seizes once and forever, and that before + it coils, following up the seizure with the twist of its body round + the victim, as invisibly swift as the twist of a whip lash round any + hard object it may strike, and then it holds fast, never moving the + jaws or the body, if its prey has any power of struggling left, it + throws round another coil, without quitting the hold with the jaws; + if Laocoon had had to do with real serpents, instead of pieces of + tape with heads to them, he would have been held still, and not + allowed to throw his arms or legs about. It is most instructive to + observe the accuracy of Michael Angelo in the rendering of these + circumstances; the binding of the arms to the body, and the knotting + of the whole mass of agony together, until we hear the crashing of + the bones beneath the grisly sliding of the engine folds. Note also + the expression in all the figures of another circumstance, the + torpor and cold numbness of the limbs induced by the serpent venom, + which, though justifiably overlooked by the sculptor of the Laocoon, + as well as by Virgil--in consideration of the rapidity of the death + by crushing, adds infinitely to the power of the Florentine's + conception, and would have been better hinted by Virgil, than that + sickening distribution of venom on the garlands. In fact, Virgil has + missed both of truth and impressiveness every way--the "morsu + depascitur" is unnatural butchery--the "perfusus veneno" gratuitous + foulness--the "clamores horrendos," impossible degradation; compare + carefully the remarks on this statue in Sir Charles Bell's Essay on + Expression, (third edition, p. 192) where he has most wisely and + uncontrovertibly deprived the statue of all claim to expression of + energy and fortitude of mind, and shown its common and coarse intent + of mere bodily exertion and agony, while he has confirmed Payne + Knight's just condemnation of the passage in Virgil. + + If the reader wishes to see the opposite or imaginative view of the + subject, let him compare Winkelmann; and Schiller, Letters on + Aesthetic Culture. + + [25] Whenever, in monumental work, the sculptor reaches a deceptive + appearance of life or death, or of concomitant details, he has gone + too far. The statue should be felt for such, not look like a dead or + sleeping body; it should not convey the impression of a corpse, nor + of sick and outwearied flesh, but it should be the marble _image_ of + death or weariness. So the concomitants should be distinctly marble, + severe and monumental in their lines, not shroud, not bedclothes, + not actual armor nor brocade, not a real soft pillow, not a + downright hard stuffed mattress, but the mere type and suggestion of + these: a certain rudeness and incompletion of finish is very noble + in all. Not that they are to be unnatural, such lines as are given + should be pure and true, and clear of the hardness and mannered + rigidity of the strictly Gothic types, but lines so few and grand as + to appeal to the imagination only, and always to stop short of + realization. There is a monument put up lately by a modern Italian + sculptor in one of the side chapels of Santa Croce, the face fine + and the execution dexterous. But it looks as if the person had been + restless all night, and the artist admitted to a faithful study of + the disturbed bedclothes in the morning. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + OF SYMMETRY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE JUSTICE. + + +Sec. 1. Symmetry, what and how found in organic nature. + +Sec. 2. How necessary in art. + +We shall not be long detained by the consideration of this, the fourth +constituent of beauty, as its nature is universally felt and understood. +In all perfectly beautiful objects, there is found the opposition of one +part to another and a reciprocal balance obtained; in animals the +balance being commonly between opposite sides, (note the +disagreeableness occasioned by the exception in flat fish, having the +eyes on one side of the head,) but in vegetables the opposition is less +distinct, as in the boughs on opposite sides of trees, and the leaves +and sprays on each side of the boughs, and in dead matter less perfect +still, often amounting only to a certain tendency towards a balance, as +in the opposite sides of valleys and alternate windings of streams. In +things in which perfect symmetry is from their nature impossible or +improper, a balance must be at least in some measure expressed before +they can be beheld with pleasure. Hence the necessity of what artists +require as opposing lines or masses in composition, the propriety of +which, as well as their value, depends chiefly on their inartificial and +natural invention. Absolute equality is not required, still less +absolute similarity. A mass of subdued color may be balanced by a point +of a powerful one, and a long and latent line overpowered by a short and +conspicuous one. The only error against which it is necessary to guard +the reader with respect to symmetry, is the confounding it with +proportion, though it seems strange that the two terms could ever have +been used as synonymous. Symmetry is the _opposition_ of _equal_ +quantities to each other. Proportion the _connection_ of _unequal_ +quantities with each other. The property of a tree in sending out equal +boughs on opposite sides is symmetrical. Its sending out shorter and +smaller towards the top, proportional. In the human face its balance +of opposite sides is symmetry, its division upwards, proportion. + +[Illustration: TOMB OF THE ILARIA DI CARETTO, LUCCA. From a photograph.] + + +Sec. 3. To what its agreeableness is referable. Various instances. + +Sec. 4. Especially in religious art. + +Whether the agreeableness of symmetry be in any way referable to its +expression of the Aristotelian [Greek: isotes], that is to say of +abstract justice, I leave the reader to determine; I only assert +respecting it, that it is necessary to the dignity of every form, and +that by the removal of it we shall render the other elements of beauty +comparatively ineffectual: though, on the other hand, it is to be +observed that it is rather a mode of arrangement of qualities than a +quality itself; and hence symmetry has little power over the mind, +unless all the other constituents of beauty be found together with it. A +form may be symmetrical and ugly, as many Elizabethan ornaments, and yet +not so ugly as it had been if unsymmetrical, but bettered always by +increasing degrees of symmetry; as in star figures, wherein there is a +circular symmetry of many like members, whence their frequent use for +the plan and ground of ornamental designs; so also it is observable that +foliage in which the leaves are concentrically grouped, as in the +chestnuts, and many shrubs--rhododendrons for instance--(whence the +perfect beauty of the Alpine rose)--is far nobler in its effect than any +other, so that the sweet chestnut of all trees most fondly and +frequently occurs in the landscape of Tintoret and Titian, beside which +all other landscape grandeur vanishes: and even in the meanest things +the rule holds, as in the kaleidoscope, wherein agreeableness is given +to forms altogether accidental merely by their repetition and reciprocal +opposition; which orderly balance and arrangement are essential to the +perfect operation of the more earnest and solemn qualities of the +beautiful, as being heavenly in their nature, and contrary to the +violence and disorganization of sin, so that the seeking of them and +submission to them is always marked in minds that have been subjected to +high moral discipline, constant in all the great religious painters, to +the degree of being an offence and a scorn to men of less tuned and +tranquil feeling. Equal ranks of saints are placed on each side of the +picture, if there be a kneeling figure on one side, there is a +corresponding one on the other, the attendant angels beneath and above +are arranged in like order. The Raffaelle at Blenheim, the Madonna di +St. Sisto, the St. Cicilia, and all the works of Perugino, Francia, and +John Bellini present some such form, and the balance at least is +preserved even in pictures of action necessitating variety of grouping, +as always by Giotto; and by Ghirlandajo in the introduction of his +chorus-like side figures, and by Tintoret most eminently in his noblest +work, the Crucifixion, where not only the grouping but the arrangement +of light is absolutely symmetrical. Where there is no symmetry, the +effects of passion and violence are increased, and many very sublime +pictures derive their sublimity from the want of it, but they lose +proportionally in the diviner quality of beauty. In landscape the same +sense of symmetry is preserved, as we shall presently see, even to +artificialness, by the greatest men, and it is one of the principal +sources of deficient feeling in the landscapes of the present day, that +the symmetry of nature is sacrificed to irregular picturesqueness. Of +this, however, hereafter. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + OF PURITY, OR THE TYPE OF DIVINE ENERGY. + + +Sec. 1. The influence of light as a sacred symbol. + +It may at first appear strange that I have not in my enumeration of the +types of Divine attributes, included that which is certainly the most +visible and evident of all, as well as the most distinctly expressed in +Scripture; God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. But I could +not logically class the presence of an actual substance or motion with +mere conditions and modes of being, neither could I logically separate +from any of these, that which is evidently necessary to the perception +of all. And it is also to be observed, that though the love of light is +more instinctive in the human heart than any other of the desires +connected with beauty, we can hardly separate its agreeableness in its +own nature from the sense of its necessity and value for the purposes of +life, neither the abstract painfulness of darkness from the sense of +danger and incapacity connected with it; and note also that it is not +_all_ light, but light possessing the universal qualities of beauty, +diffused or infinite rather than in points, tranquil, not startling and +variable, pure, not sullied or oppressed, which is indeed pleasant and +perfectly typical of the Divine nature. + + +Sec. 2. The idea of purity connected with it. + +Observe, however, that there is one quality, the idea of which had been +just introduced in connection with light, which might have escaped us in +the consideration of mere matter, namely purity, and yet I think that +the original notion of this quality is altogether material, and has only +been attributed to color when such color is suggestive of the condition +of matter from which we originally received the idea. For I see not in +the abstract how one color should be considered purer than another, +except as more or less compounded, whereas there is certainly a sense of +purity or impurity in the most compound and neutral colors, as well as +in the simplest, a quality difficult to define, and which the reader +will probably be surprised by my calling the type of energy, with which +it has certainly little traceable connection in the mind. + + +Sec. 3. Originally derived from conditions of matter. + +Sec. 4. Associated ideas adding to the power of the impression. Influence + of clearness. + +Sec. 5. Perfect beauty of surface, in what consisting. + +I believe however if we carefully analyze the nature of our ideas of +impurity in general, we shall find them refer especially to conditions +of matter in which its various elements are placed in a relation +incapable of healthy or proper operation; and most distinctly to +conditions in which the negation of vital or energetic action is most +evident, as in corruption and decay of all kinds, wherein particles +which once, by their operation on each other, produced a living and +energetic whole, are reduced to a condition of perfect passiveness, in +which they are seized upon and appropriated, one by one, piecemeal, by +whatever has need of them, without any power of resistance or energy of +their own. And thus there is a peculiar painfulness attached to any +associations of inorganic with organic matter, such as appear to involve +the inactivity and feebleness of the latter, so that things which are +not felt to be foul in their own nature, yet become so in association +with things of greater inherent energy; as dust or earth, which in a +mass excites no painful sensation, excites a most disagreeable one when +strewing or staining an animal's skin, because it implies a decline and +deadening of the vital and healthy power of the skin. But all reasoning +about this impression is rendered difficult, by the host of associated +ideas connected with it; for the ocular sense of impurity connected with +corruption is infinitely enhanced by the offending of other senses and +by the grief and horror of it in its own nature, as the special +punishment and evidence of sin, and on the other hand, the ocular +delight in purity is mingled, as I before observed, with the love of the +mere element of light, as a type of wisdom and of truth; whence it seems +to me that we admire the transparency of bodies, though probably it is +still rather owing to our sense of more perfect order and arrangement of +particles, and not to our love of light, that we look upon a piece of +rock crystal as purer than a piece of marble, and on the marble as purer +than a piece of chalk. And let it be observed also that the most lovely +objects in nature are only partially transparent. I suppose the utmost +possible sense of beauty is conveyed by a feebly translucent, smooth, +but not lustrous surface of white, and pale warm red, subdued by the +most pure and delicate grays, as in the finer portions of the human +frame; in wreaths of snow, and in white plumage under rose light,[26] so +Viola of Olivia in Twelfth Night, and Homer of Atrides wounded.[27] And +I think that transparency and lustre, both beautiful in themselves, are +incompatible with the highest beauty because they destroy form, on the +full perception of which more of the divinely character of the object +depends than upon its color. Hence, in the beauty of snow and of flesh, +so much translucency is allowed as is consistent with the full +explanation of the forms, while we are suffered to receive more intense +impressions of light and transparency from other objects which, +nevertheless, owing to their necessarily unperceived form, are not +perfectly nor affectingly beautiful. A fair forehead outshines its +diamond diadem. The sparkle of the cascade withdraws not our eyes from +the snowy summits in their evening silence. + + +Sec. 6. Purity only metaphorically a type of sinlessness. + +It may seem strange to many readers that I have not spoken of purity in +that sense in which it is most frequently used, as a type of +sinlessness. I do not deny that the frequent metaphorical use of it in +Scripture may have and ought to have much influence on the sympathies +with which we regard it, and that probably the immediate agreeableness +of it to most minds arises far more from this source than from that to +which I have chosen to attribute it. But, in the first place, if it be +indeed in the signs of Divine and not of human attributes that beauty +consists, I see not how the idea of sin can be formed with respect to +the Deity, for it is an idea of a relation borne by us to Him, and not +in any way to be attached to his abstract nature. And if the idea of sin +is incapable of being formed with respect to Him, so also is its +negative, for we cannot form an idea of negation, where we cannot form +an idea of presence. If for instance one could conceive of taste or +flavor in a proposition of Euclid, so also might we of insipidity, but +if not of the one, then not of the other. So that, in speaking of the +goodness of God, it cannot be that we mean anything more than his Love, +Mercifulness, and Justice, and these attributes I have shown to be +expressed by other qualities of beauty, and I cannot trace any rational +connection between them and the idea of spotlessness in matter. Neither +can I trace any more distinct relation between this idea, and any of the +virtues which make up the righteousness of man, except perhaps those of +truth and openness, of which I have already spoken as more expressed by +the transparency than the mere purity of matter. So that I conceive the +whole use of the terms purity, spotlessness, etc., in moral subjects, to +be merely metaphorical, and that it is rather that we illustrate these +virtues by the desirableness of material purity, than that we desire +material purity because it is illustrative of these virtues. + + +Sec. 7. Energy, how expressed by purity of matter. + +I repeat, then, that the only idea which I think can be legitimately +connected with purity of matter, is this of vital and energetic +connection among its particles, and that the idea of foulness is +essentially connected with dissolution and death. Thus the purity of the +rock, contrasted with the foulness of dust or mould, is expressed by the +epithet "living," very singularly given in the rock, in almost all +languages; singularly I say, because life is almost the last attribute +one would ascribe to stone, but for this visible energy and connection +of its particles: and so of water as opposed to stagnancy. And I do not +think that, however pure a powder or dust may be, the idea of beauty is +ever connected with it, for it is not the mere purity, but the _active_ +condition of the substance which is desired, so that as soon as it +shoots into crystals, or gathers into efflorescence, a sensation of +_active_ or real purity is received which was not felt in the calcined +caput mortuum. + + +Sec. 8. And of color. + +Sec. 9. Spirituality, how so expressed. + +And again in color. I imagine that the quality of it which we term +purity is dependent on the full energizing of the rays that compose it, +whereof if in compound hues any are overpowered and killed by the rest, +so as to be of no value nor operation, foulness is the consequence; +while so long as all act together, whether side by side, or from +pigments seen one through the other, so that all the coloring matter +employed comes into play in the harmony desired, and none be quenched +nor killed, purity results. And so in all cases I suppose that pureness +is made to us desirable, because expressive of the constant presence and +energizing of the Deity in matter, through which all things live and +move, and have their being, and that foulness is painful as the +accompaniment of disorder and decay, and always indicative of the +withdrawal of Divine support. And the practical analogies of life, the +invariable connection of outward foulness with mental sloth and +degradation, as well as with bodily lethargy and disease, together with +the contrary indications of freshness and purity belonging to every +healthy and active organic frame, (singularly seen in the effort of the +young leaves when first their inward energy prevails over the earth, +pierces its corruption, and shakes its dust away from their own white +purity of life,) all these circumstances strengthen the instinct by +associations countless and irresistible. And then, finally, with the +idea of purity comes that of spirituality, for the essential +characteristic of matter is its inertia, whence, by adding to it purity +or energy, we may in some measure spiritualize even matter itself. Thus +in the descriptions of the Apocalypse it is its purity that fits it for +its place in heaven; the river of the water of life, that proceeds out +of the throne of the Lamb, is clear as crystal, and the pavement of the +city is pure gold, like unto clear glass.[28] + + +FOOTNOTES + + [26] The reader will observe that I am speaking at present of mere + material qualities. If he would obtain perfect ideas respecting + loveliness of luminous surface, let him closely observe a swan with + its wings expanded in full light five minutes before sunset. The + human cheek or the rose leaf are perhaps hardly so pure, and the + forms of snow, though individually as beautiful, are less + exquisitely combined. + + [27] [Greek: hos d' ote tis t' elephanta gyne phoiniki miene + Meonis.] + + So Spenser of Shamefacedness, an exquisite piece of glowing + color--and sweetly of Belphoebe--(so the roses and lilies of all + poets.) Compare the making of the image of Florimell. + + "The substance whereof she the body made + Was purest snow, in massy mould congealed, + Which she had gathered in a shady glade + Of the Riphoean hills. + The same she tempered with fine mercury, + And mingled them with perfect vermily." + + With Una he perhaps overdoes the white a little. She is two degrees + of comparison above snow. Compare his questioning in the Hymn to + Beauty, about that mixture made of colors fair; and goodly + temperament, of pure complexion. + + "Hath white and red in it such wondrous power + That it can pierce through the eyes into the heart?" + + Where the distinction between typical and vital beauty is very + gloriously carried out. + + [28] I have not spoken here of any of the associations connected + with warmth or coolness of color, they are partly connected with + vital beauty, compare Chap. xiv. Sec. 22, 23, and partly with + impressions of the sublime, the discussion of which is foreign to + the present subject; purity, however, it is which gives value to + both, for neither warm nor cool color, can be beautiful, if impure. + + Neither have I spoken of any questions relating to melodies of + color, a subject of separate science--whose general principle has + been already stated in the seventh chapter respecting unity of + sequence. Those qualities only are here noted which give absolute + beauty, whether to separate color or to melodies of it--for all + melodies are not beautiful, but only those which are expressive of + certain pleasant or solemn emotions; and the rest startling, or + curious, or cheerful, or exciting, or sublime, but not beautiful, + (and so in music.) And all questions relating to this grandeur, + cheerfulness, or other characteristic impression of color must be + considered under the head of ideas of relation. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + OF MODERATION, OR THE TYPE OF GOVERNMENT BY LAW. + + +Sec. 1. Meaning of the terms Chasteness and Refinement. + +Of objects which, in respect of the qualities hitherto considered, +appear to have equal claims to regard, we find, nevertheless, that +certain are preferred to others in consequence of an attractive power, +usually expressed by the terms "chasteness, refinement, or elegance," +and it appears also that things which in other respects have little in +them of natural beauty, and are of forms altogether simple and adapted +to simple uses, are capable of much distinction and desirableness in +consequence of these qualities only. It is of importance to discover the +real nature of the ideas thus expressed. + + +Sec. 2. How referable to temporary fashions. + +Something of the peculiar meaning of the words is referable to the +authority of fashion and the exclusiveness of pride, owing to which that +which is the mode of a particular time is submissively esteemed, and +that which by its costliness or its rarity is of difficult attainment, +or in any way appears to have been chosen as the best of many things, +(which is the original sense of the words elegant and exquisite,) is +esteemed for the witness it bears to the dignity of the chooser. + +But neither of these ideas are in any way connected with eternal beauty, +neither do they at all account for that agreeableness of color and form +which is especially termed chasteness, and which it would seem to be a +characteristic of rightly trained mind in all things to prefer, and of +common minds to reject. + + +Sec. 3. How to the perception of completion. + +Sec. 4. Finish, by great masters esteemed essential. + +There is however another character of artificial productions, to which +these terms have partial reference, which it is of some importance to +note, that of finish, exactness, or refinement, which are commonly +desired in the works of men, owing both to their difficulty of +accomplishment and consequent expression of care and power (compare +Chapter on Ideas of Power, Part I. Sect, i.,) and from their greater +resemblance to the working of God, whose "absolute exactness," says +Hooker, "all things imitate, by tending to that which is most exquisite +in every particular." And there is not a greater sign of the +imperfection of general taste, than its capability of contentment with +forms and things which, professing completion, are yet not exact nor +complete, as in the vulgar with wax and clay and china figures, and in +bad sculptors with an unfinished and clay-like modelling of surface, and +curves and angles of no precision or delicacy; and in general, in all +common and unthinking persons with an imperfect rendering of that which +might be pure and fine, as church-wardens are content to lose the sharp +lines of stone carving under clogging obliterations of whitewash, and as +the modern Italians scrape away and polish white all the sharpness and +glory of the carvings on their old churches, as most miserably and +pitifully on St. Mark's at Venice, and the Baptisteries of Pistoja and +Pisa, and many others; so also the delight of vulgar painters in coarse +and slurred painting, merely for the sake of its coarseness,[29] as of +Spagnoletto, Salvator, or Murillo, opposed to the divine finish which +the greatest and mightiest of men disdained not, but rather wrought out +with painfulness and life spending; as Leonardo and Michael Angelo, (for +the latter, however many things he left unfinished, did finish, if at +all, with a refinement that the eye cannot follow, but the feeling only, +as in the Pieta of Genoa,) and Perugino always, even to the gilding of +single hairs among his angel tresses, and the young Raffaelle, when he +was heaven taught, and Angelico, and Pinturicchio, and John Bellini, and +all other such serious and loving men. Only it is to be observed that +this finish is not a part or constituent of beauty, but the full and +ultimate rendering of it, so that it is an idea only connected with the +works of men, for all the works of the Deity are finished with the same, +that is, infinite care and completion: and so what degrees of beauty +exist among them can in no way be dependent upon this source, inasmuch +as there are between them no degrees of care. And therefore, as there +certainly is admitted a difference of degree in what we call chasteness, +even in Divine work, (compare the hollyhock or the sunflower with the +vale lily,) we must seek for it some other explanation and source than +this. + + +Sec. 5. Moderation, its nature and value + +And if, bringing down our ideas of it from complicated objects to simple +lines and colors, we analyze and regard them carefully, I think we shall +be able to trace them to an under-current of constantly agreeable +feeling, excited by the appearance in material things of a +self-restrained liberty, that is to say, by the image of that acting of +God with regard to all his creation, wherein, though free to operate in +whatever arbitrary, sudden, violent, or inconstant ways he will, he yet, +if we may reverently so speak, restrains in himself this his omnipotent +liberty, and works always in consistent modes, called by us laws. And +this restraint or moderation, according to the words of Hooker, ("that +which doth moderate the force and power, that which doth appoint the +form and measure of working, the same we term a law,") is in the Deity +not restraint, such as it is said of creatures, but, as again says +Hooker, "the very being of God is a law to his working," so that every +appearance of painfulness or want of power and freedom in material +things is wrong and ugly; for the right restraint, the image of Divine +operation, is both in them, and in men, a willing and not painful +stopping short of the utmost degree to which their power might reach, +and the appearance of fettering or confinement is the cause of ugliness +in the one, as the slightest painfulness or effort in restraint is a +sign of sin in the other. + + +Sec. 6. It is the girdle of beauty. + +Sec. 7. How found in natural curves and colors. + +Sec. 8. How difficult of attainment, yet essential to all good. + +I have put this attribute of beauty last, because I consider it the +girdle and safeguard of all the rest, and in this respect the most +essential of all, for it is possible that a certain degree of beauty may +be attained even in the absence of one of its other constituents, as +sometimes in some measure without symmetry or without unity. But the +least appearance of violence or extravagance, of the want of moderation +and restraint, is, I think, destructive of all beauty whatsoever in +everything, color, form, motion, language, or thought, giving rise to +that which in color we call glaring, in form inelegant, in motion +ungraceful, in language coarse, in thought undisciplined, in all +unchastened; which qualities are in everything most painful, because the +signs of disobedient and irregular operation. And herein we at last find +the reason of that which has been so often noted respecting the subtilty +and almost invisibility of natural curves and colors, and why it is that +we look on those lines as least beautiful which fall into wide and far +license of curvature, and as most beautiful which approach nearest (so +that the curvilinear character be distinctly asserted) to the government +of the right line, as in the pure and severe curves of the draperies of +the religious painters; and thus in color it is not red, but rose-color +which is most beautiful, neither such actual green as we find in summer +foliage partly, and in our painting of it constantly; but such gray +green as that into which nature modifies her distant tints, or such pale +green and uncertain as we see in sunset sky, and in the clefts of the +glacier and the chrysoprase, and the sea-foam; and so of all colors, not +that they may not sometimes be deep and full, but that there is a solemn +moderation even in their very fulness, and a holy reference beyond and +out of their own nature to great harmonies by which they are governed, +and in obedience to which is their glory. Whereof the ignorance is shown +in all evil colorists by the violence and positiveness of their hues, +and by dulness and discordance consequent, for the very brilliancy and +real power of all color is dependent on the chastening of it, as of a +voice on its gentleness, and as of action on its calmness, and as all +moral vigor on self-command. And therefore as that virtue which men +last, and with most difficulty attain unto, and which many attain not at +all, and yet that which is essential to the conduct and almost to the +being of all other virtues, since neither imagination, nor invention, +nor industry, nor sensibility, nor energy, nor any other good having, is +of full avail without this of self-command, whereby works truly +masculine and mighty are produced, and by the signs of which they are +separated from that lower host of things brilliant, magnificent and +redundant, and farther yet from that of the loose, the lawless, the +exaggerated, the insolent, and the profane, I would have the necessity +of it foremost among all our inculcating, and the name of it largest +among all our inscribing, in so far that, over the doors of every school +of Art, I would have this one word, relieved out in deep letters of pure +gold,--Moderation. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [29] It is to be carefully noted that when rude execution is + evidently not the result of imperfect feeling and desire (as in + these men above named, it is) but of thought; either impatient, + which there was necessity to note swiftly, or impetuous, which it + was well to note in mighty manner, as pre-eminently and in both + kinds the case with Tintoret, and often with Michael Angelo, and in + lower and more degraded modes with Rubens, and generally in the + sketches and first thoughts of great masters; there is received a + very noble pleasure, connected both with ideas of power (compare + again Part I. Sect. ii. Chap. I.) and with certain actions of the + imagination of which we shall speak presently. But this pleasure is + not received from the beauty of the work, for nothing can be + perfectly beautiful unless complete, but from its simplicity and + sufficiency to its immediate purpose, where the purpose is not of + beauty at all, as often in things rough-hewn, pre-eminently for + instance in the stones of the foundations of the Pitti and Strozzi + palaces, whose noble rudeness is to be opposed both to the useless + polish, and the barbarous rustications of modern times, (although + indeed this instance is not without exception to be received, for + the majesty of these rocky buildings depends also in some measure + upon the real beauty and finish of the natural curvilinear + fractures, opposed to the coarseness of human chiselling,) and + again, as it respects works of higher art, the pleasure of their + hasty or imperfect execution is not indicative of their beauty, but + of their majesty and fulness of thought and vastness of power. Shade + is only beautiful when it magnifies and sets forth the forms of fair + things, so negligence is only noble when it is, as Fuseli hath it, + "the shadow of energy." Which that it may be, secure the substance + and the shade will follow, but let the artist beware of stealing the + manner of giant intellects when he has not their intention, and of + assuming large modes of treatment when he has little thoughts to + treat. There is large difference between indolent impatience of + labor and intellectual impatience of delay, large difference between + leaving things unfinished because we have more to do, or because we + are satisfied with what we have done. Tintoret, who prayed hard, and + hardly obtained, that he might be permitted, the charge of his + colors only being borne, to paint a new built house from base to + battlement, was not one to shun labor, it is the pouring in upon him + of glorious thoughts in inexpressible multitude that his sweeping + hand follows so fast. It is as easy to know the slightness of + earnest haste from the slightness of blunt feeling, indolence, or + affectation, as it is to know the dust of a race, from the dust of + dissolution. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + GENERAL INFERENCES RESPECTING TYPICAL BEAUTY. + + +Sec. 1. The subject incompletely treated, yet admitting of general + conclusions. + +I have now enumerated, and in some measure explained those +characteristics of mere matter by which I conceive it becomes agreeable +to the theoretic faculty, under whatever form, dead, organized, or +animated, it may present itself. It will be our task in the succeeding +volume to examine, and illustrate by examples, the mode in which these +characteristics appear in every division of creation, in stones, +mountains, waves, clouds, and all organic bodies; beginning with +vegetables, and then taking instances in the range of animals from the +mollusc to man; examining how one animal form is nobler than another, by +the more manifest presence of these attributes, and chiefly endeavoring +to show how much there is of admirable and lovely, even in what is +commonly despised. At present I have only to mark the conclusions at +which we have as yet arrived respecting the rank of the theoretic +faculty, and then to pursue the inquiry farther into the nature of vital +beauty. + +As I before said, I pretend not to have enumerated all the sources of +material beauty, nor the analogies connected with them; it is probable +that others may occur to many readers, or to myself as I proceed into +more particular inquiry, but I am not careful to collect all conceivable +evidence on the subject. I desire only to assert and prove some certain +principles, and by means of these to show, in some measure, the inherent +worthiness and glory of God's works and something of the relations they +bear to each other and to us, leaving the subject to be fully pursued, +as it only can be, by the ardor and affection of those whom it may +interest. + + +Sec. 2. Typical beauty not created for man's sake. + +Sec. 3. But degrees of it for his sake admitted. + +Sec. 4. What encouragement hence to be received. + +The qualities above enumerated are not to be considered as stamped upon +matter for our teaching or enjoyment only, but as the necessary +consequence of the perfection of God's working, and the inevitable stamp +of his image on what he creates. For it would be inconsistent with his +Infinite perfection to work imperfectly in any place, or in any matter; +wherefore we do not find that flowers and fair trees, and kindly skies, +are given only where man may see them and be fed by them, but the Spirit +of God works everywhere alike, where there is no eye to see, covering +all lonely places with an equal glory, using the same pencil and +outpouring the same splendor, in the caves of the waters where the +sea-snakes swim, and in the desert where the satyrs dance, among the +fir-trees of the stork, and the rocks of the conies, as among those +higher creatures whom he has made capable witnesses of his working. +Nevertheless, I think that the admission of different degrees of this +glory and image of himself upon creation, has the look of something +meant especially for us; for although, in pursuance of the appointed +system of government by universal laws, these same degrees exist where +we cannot witness them, yet the existence of degrees at all seems at +first unlikely in Divine work, and I cannot see reason for it unless +that palpable one of increasing in us the understanding of the sacred +characters by showing us the results of their comparative absence. For I +know not that if all things had been equally beautiful, we could have +received the idea of beauty at all, or if we had, certainly it had +become a matter of indifference to us, and of little thought, whereas +through the beneficent ordaining of degrees in its manifestation, the +hearts of men are stirred by its occasional occurrence in its noblest +form, and all their energies are awakened in the pursuit of it, and +endeavor to arrest it or recreate it for themselves. But whatever doubt +there may be respecting the exact amount of modification of created +things admitted reference to us, there can be none respecting the +dignity of that faculty by which we receive the mysterious evidence of +their divine origin. The fact of our deriving constant pleasure from +whatever is a type or semblance of Divine attributes, and from nothing +but that which is so, is the most glorious of all that can be +demonstrated of human nature; it not only sets a great gulf of specific +separation between us and the lower animals, but it seems a promise of a +communion ultimately deep, close, and conscious, with the Being whose +darkened manifestations we here feebly and unthinkingly delight in. +Probably to every order of intelligence more of his image becomes +palpable in all around them, and the glorified spirits and the angels +have perceptions as much more full and rapturous than ours, as ours than +those of beasts and creeping things. And receiving it, as we must, for +an universal axiom that "no natural desire can be entirely frustrate," +and seeing that these desires are indeed so unfailing in us that they +have escaped not the reasoners of any time, but were held divine of old, +and in even heathen countries,[30] it cannot be but that there is in +these visionary pleasures, lightly as we now regard them, cause for +thankfulness, ground for hope, anchor for faith, more than in all the +other manifold gifts and guidances, wherewith God crowns the years, and +hedges the paths of men. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [30] [Greek: He de teleia eudaimonia theoretike tis eotin henergeia. + * * tois men gar theois apas ho bios makarios, tois d anthropois, + eph hoson homoioma ti tes toiantes henergeias huparchei. ton d + hallon zoon ouden eudaimonei. hepeide oudame koinonei + theorias.]--Arist. Eth. Lib. 10th. The concluding book of the Ethics + should be carefully read. It is all most valuable. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + OF VITAL BEAUTY. FIRST, AS RELATIVE. + + +Sec. 1. Transition from typical to vital Beauty. + +I proceed more particularly to examine the nature of that second kind of +beauty of which I spoke in the third chapter, as consisting in "the +appearance of felicitous fulfilment of function in living things." I +have already noticed the example of very pure and high typical beauty +which is to be found in the lines and gradations of unsullied snow: if, +passing to the edge of a sheet of it, upon the lower Alps, early in May, +we find, as we are nearly sure to find, two or three little round +openings pierced in it, and through these emergent, a slender, pensive, +fragile flower[31] whose small dark, purple-fringed bell hangs down and +shudders over the icy cleft that it has cloven, as if partly wondering +at its own recent grave, and partly dying of very fatigue after its hard +won victory; we shall be, or we ought to be, moved by a totally +different impression of loveliness from that which we receive among the +dead ice and the idle clouds. There is now uttered to us a call for +sympathy, now offered to us an image of moral purpose and achievement, +which, however unconscious or senseless the creature may indeed be that +so seems to call, cannot be heard without affection, nor contemplated +without worship, by any of us whose heart is rightly tuned, or whose +mind is clearly and surely sighted. + +Throughout the whole of the organic creation every being in a perfect +state exhibits certain appearances, or evidences, of happiness, and +besides is in its nature, its desires, its modes of nourishment, +habitation, and death, illustrative or expressive of certain moral +dispositions or principles. Now, first, in the keenness of the sympathy +which we feel in the happiness, real or apparent, of all organic beings, +and which, as we shall presently see, invariably prompts us, from the +joy we have in it, to look upon those as most lovely which are most +happy; and secondly, in the justness of the moral sense which rightly +reads the lesson they are all intended to teach, and classes them in +orders of worthiness and beauty according to the rank and nature of that +lesson, whether it be of warning or example, of those that wallow or of +those that soar, of the fiend-hunted swine by the Gennesaret lake, or of +the dove returning to its ark of rest; in our right accepting and +reading of all this, consists, I say, the ultimately perfect condition +of that noble theoretic faculty, whose place in the system of our nature +I have already partly vindicated with respect to typical, but which can +only fully be established with respect to vital beauty. + + +Sec. 2. The perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with vital + beauty, is charity. + +Its first perfection, therefore, relating to vital beauty, is the +kindness and unselfish fulness of heart, which receives the utmost +amount of pleasure from the happiness of all things. Of which in high +degree the heart of man is incapable, neither what intense enjoyment the +angels may have in all that they see of things that move and live, and +in the part they take in the shedding of God's kindness upon them, can +we know or conceive: only in proportion as we draw near to God, and are +made in measure like unto him, can we increase this our possession of +charity, of which the entire essence is in God only. + +Wherefore it is evident that even the ordinary exercise of this faculty +implies a condition of the whole moral being in some measure right and +healthy, and that to the entire exercise of it there is necessary the +entire perfection of the Christian character, for he who loves not God, +nor his brother, cannot love the grass beneath his feet and the +creatures that fill those spaces in the universe which he needs not, and +which live not for his uses; nay, he has seldom grace to be grateful +even to those that love him and serve him, while, on the other hand, +none can love God nor his human brother without loving all things which +his Father loves, nor without looking upon them every one as in that +respect his brethren also, and perhaps worthier than he, if in the under +concords they have to fill, their part is touched more truly. Wherefore +it is good to read of that kindness and humbleness of St. Francis of +Assisi, who spoke never to bird nor to cicala, nor even to wolf and +beast of prey, but as his brother; and so we find are moved the minds of +all good and mighty men, as in the lesson that we have from the Mariner +of Coleridge, and yet more truly and rightly taught in the Heartleap +well, + + "Never to blend our pleasure, or our pride, + With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels," + +and again in the White Doe of Rylstone, with the added teaching of that +gift, which we have from things beneath us, in thanks for the love they +cannot equally return; that anguish of our own, + + "Is tempered and allayed by sympathies, + Aloft ascending and descending deep, + Even to the inferior kinds," + +so that I know not of anything more destructive of the whole theoretic +faculty, not to say of the Christian character and human intellect, than +those accursed sports in which man makes of himself, cat, tiger, +serpent, chaetodon, and alligator in one, and gathers into one +continuance of cruelty for his amusement all the devices that brutes +sparingly and at intervals use against each other for their +necessities.[32] + + +Sec. 3. Only with respect to plants, less affection than sympathy. + +As we pass from those beings of whose happiness and pain we are certain +to those in which it is doubtful or only seeming, as possibly in +plants, (though I would fain hold, if I might, "the faith that every +flower, enjoys the air it breathes," neither do I ever crush or gather +one without some pain,) yet our feeling for them has in it more of +sympathy than of actual love, as receiving from them in delight far more +than we can give; for love, I think, chiefly grows in giving, at least +its essence is the desire of doing good, or giving happiness, and we +cannot feel the desire of that which we cannot conceive, so that if we +conceive not of a plant as capable of pleasure, we cannot desire to give +it pleasure, that is, we cannot love it in the entire sense of the term. + +Nevertheless, the sympathy of very lofty and sensitive minds usually +reaches so far as to the conception of life in the plant, and so to +love, as with Shelley, of the sensitive plant, and Shakspeare always, as +he has taught us in the sweet voices of Ophelia and Perdita, and +Wordsworth always, as of the daffodils, and the celandine. + + "It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold. + This neither is its courage, nor its choice, + But its necessity in being old,"-- + +and so all other great poets (that is to say, great seers;[33]) nor do I +believe that any mind, however rude, is without some slight perception +or acknowledgment of joyfulness in breathless things, as most certainly +there are none but feel instinctive delight in the appearances of such +enjoyment. + + +Sec. 4. Which is proportioned to the appearance of energy in the plants. + +For it is matter of easy demonstration, that setting the characters of +typical beauty aside, the pleasure afforded by every organic form is in +proportion to its appearance of healthy vital energy; as in a rose-bush, +setting aside all considerations of gradated flushing of color and fair +folding of line, which it shares with the cloud or the snow-wreath, we +find in and through all this, certain signs pleasant and acceptable as +signs of life and enjoyment in the particular individual plant itself. +Every leaf and stalk is seen to have a function, to be constantly +exercising that function, and as it seems _solely_ for the good and +enjoyment of the plant. It is true that reflection will show us that the +plant is not living for itself alone, that its life is one of +benefaction, that it gives as well as receives, but no sense of this +whatsoever mingles with our perception of physical beauty in its forms. +Those forms which appear to be necessary to its health, the symmetry of +its leaflets, the smoothness of its stalks, the vivid green of its +shoots, are looked upon by us as signs of the plant's own happiness and +perfection; they are useless to us, except as they give us pleasure in +our sympathizing with that of the plant, and if we see a leaf withered +or shrunk or worm-eaten, we say it is ugly, and feel it to be most +painful, not because it hurts _us_, but because it seems to hurt the +plant, and conveys to us an idea of pain and disease and failure of life +in _it_. + +That the amount of pleasure we receive is in exact proportion to the +appearance of vigor and sensibility in the plant, is easily proved by +observing the effect of those which show the evidences of it in the +least degree, as, for instance, any of the cacti not in flower. Their +masses are heavy and simple, their growth slow, their various parts +jointed on one to another, as if they were buckled or pinned together +instead of growing out of each other, (note the singular imposition in +many of them, the prickly pear for instance, of the fruit upon the body +of the plant, so that it looks like a swelling or disease,) and often +farther opposed by harsh truncation of line as in the cactus +truncatophylla. All these circumstances so concur to deprive the plant +of vital evidences, that we receive from it more sense of pain than of +beauty; and yet even here, the sharpness of the angles, the symmetrical +order and strength of the spines, the fresh and even color of the body, +are looked for earnestly as signs of healthy condition, our pain is +increased by their absence, and indefinitely increased if blotches, and +other appearances of bruise and decay interfere with that little life +which the plant seems to possess. + +The same singular characters belong in animals to the crustacea, as to +the lobster, crab, scorpion, etc., and in great measure deprive them of +the beauty which we find in higher orders, so that we are reduced to +look for their beauty to single parts and joints, and not to the whole +animal. + + +Sec. 5. This sympathy is unselfish, and does not regard utility. + +Now I wish particularly to impress upon the reader that all these +sensations of beauty in the plant arise from our unselfish sympathy with +its happiness, and not from any view of the qualities in it which may +bring good to us, nor even from our acknowledgment in it of any moral +condition beyond that of mere felicity; for such an acknowledgment, +belongs to the second operation of the theoretic faculty (compare Sec. 2,) +and not to the sympathetic part which we are at present examining; so +that we even find that in this respect, the moment we begin to look upon +any creature as subordinate to some purpose out of itself, some of the +sense of organic beauty is lost. Thus, when we are told that the leaves +of a plant are occupied in decomposing carbonic acid, and preparing +oxygen for us, we begin to look upon it with some such indifference as +upon a gasometer. It has become a machine; some of our sense of its +happiness is gone; its emanation of inherent life is no longer pure. The +bending trunk, waving to and fro in the wind above the waterfall, is +beautiful because it is happy, though it is perfectly useless to us. The +same trunk, hewn down and thrown across the stream, has lost its beauty. +It serves as a bridge,--it has become useful; it lives not for itself, +and its beauty is gone, or what it retains is purely typical, dependent +on its lines and colors, not on its functions. Saw it into planks, and +though now adapted to become permanently useful, its whole beauty is +lost forever, or to be regained only in part when decay and ruin shall +have withdrawn it again from use, and left it to receive from the hand +of nature the velvet moss and varied lichen, which may again suggest +ideas of inherent happiness, and tint its mouldering sides with hues of +life. + +There is something, I think, peculiarly beautiful and instructive in +this unselfishness of the theoretic faculty, and in its abhorrence of +all utility which is based on the pain or destruction of any creature, +for in such ministering to each other as is consistent with the essence +and energy of both, it takes delight, as in the clothing of the rock by +the herbage, and the feeding of the herbage by the stream. + + +Sec. 6. Especially with respect to animals. + +Sec. 7. And it is destroyed by evidences of mechanism. + +But still more distinct evidence of its being indeed the expression of +happiness to which we look for our first pleasure in organic form, is +to be found in the way in which we regard the bodily frame of animals: +of which it is to be noted first, that there is not anything which +causes so intense and tormenting a sense of ugliness as any scar, wound, +monstrosity, or imperfection which seems inconsistent with the animal's +ease and health; and that although in vegetables, where there is no +immediate sense of pain, we are comparatively little hurt by +excrescences and irregularities, but are sometimes even delighted with +them, and fond of them, as children of the oak-apple, and sometimes look +upon them as more interesting than the uninjured conditions, as in the +gnarled and knotted trunks of trees; yet the slightest approach to +anything of the kind in animal form is regarded with intense horror, +merely from the sense of pain it conveys. And, in the second place, it +is to be noted that whenever we dissect the animal frame, or conceive it +as dissected, and substitute in our ideas the neatness of mechanical +contrivance for the pleasure of the animal; the moment we reduce +enjoyment to ingenuity, and volition to leverage, that instant all sense +of beauty disappears. Take, for instance, the action of the limb of the +ostrich, which is beautiful so long as we see it in its swift uplifting +along the desert sands, and trace in the tread of it her scorn of the +horse and his rider, but would infinitely lose of its impressiveness, if +we could see the spring ligament playing backwards and forwards in +alternate jerks over the tubercle at the hock joint. Take again the +action of the dorsal fin of the shark tribe. So long as we observe the +uniform energy of motion in the whole frame, the lash of the tail, bound +of body, and instantaneous lowering of the dorsal, to avoid the +resistance of the water as it turns, there is high sense of organic +power and beauty. But when we dissect the dorsal, and find that its +superior ray is supported in its position by a peg in a notch at its +base, and that when the fin is to be lowered, the peg has to be taken +out, and when it is raised put in again; although we are filled with +wonder at the ingenuity of the mechanical contrivance, all our sense of +beauty is gone, and not to be recovered until we again see the fin +playing on the animal's body, apparently by its own will alone, with the +life running along its rays. It is by a beautiful ordinance of the +Creator that all these mechanisms are concealed from sight, though open +to investigation, and that in all which is outwardly manifested we seem +to see his presence rather than his workmanship, and the mysterious +breath of life, rather than the manipulation of matter. + +As, therefore, it appears from all evidence that it is the sense of +felicity which we first desire in organic form, it is evident from +reason, as demonstrable by experience, that those forms will be the most +beautiful (always, observe, leaving typical beauty out of the question) +which exhibit most of power, and seem capable of most quick and joyous +sensation. Hence we find gradations of beauty from the apparent +impenetrableness of hide and slow motion of the elephant and rhinoceros, +from the foul occupation of the vulture, from the earthy struggling of +the worm, to the brilliancy of the butterfly, the buoyancy of the lark, +the swiftness of the fawn and the horse, the fair and kingly sensibility +of man. + + +Sec. 8. The second perfection of the theoretic faculty as concerned with + life is justice of moral judgment. + +Thus far then, the theoretic faculty is concerned with the happiness of +animals, and its exercise depends on the cultivation of the affections +only. Let us next observe how it is concerned with the moral functions +of animals, and therefore how it is dependent on the cultivation of +every moral sense. There is not any organic creature, but in its history +and habits it shall exemplify or illustrate to us some moral excellence +or deficiency, or some point of God's providential government, which it +is necessary for us to know. Thus the functions and the fates of animals +are distributed to them, with a variety which exhibits to us the dignity +and results of almost every passion and kind of conduct, some filthy and +slothful, pining and unhappy; some rapacious, restless, and cruel; some +ever earnest and laborious, and, I think, unhappy in their endless +labor, creatures, like the bee, that heap up riches and cannot tell who +shall gather them, and others employed like angels in endless offices of +love and praise. Of which when, in right condition of mind, we esteem +those most beautiful, whose functions are the most noble, whether as +some, in mere energy, or as others, in moral honor, so that we look with +hate on the foulness of the sloth, and the subtlety of the adder, and +the rage of the hyena: with the honor due to their earthly wisdom we +invest the earnest ant and unwearied bee; but we look with full +perception of sacred function to the tribes of burning plumage and +choral voice.[34] And so what lesson we might receive for our earthly +conduct from the creeping and laborious things, was taught us by that +earthly king who made silver to be in Jerusalem as stones (yet +thereafter was less rich towards God). But from the lips of an heavenly +King, who had not where to lay his head, we were taught what lesson we +have to learn from those higher creatures who sow not, nor reap, nor +gather into barns, for their Heavenly Father feedeth them. + + +Sec. 9. How impeded. + +Sec. 10. The influence of moral signs in expression. + +There is much difficulty in the way of our looking with this rightly +balanced judgment on the moral functions of the animal tribes, owing to +the independent and often opposing characters of typical beauty, which +are among them, as it seems, arbitrarily distributed, so that the most +fierce and cruel are often clothed in the liveliest colors, and +strengthened by the noblest forms, with this only exception, that so far +as I know, there is no high beauty in any slothful animal, but even +among those of prey, its characters exist in exalted measure upon those +that range and pursue, and are in equal degree withdrawn from those that +lie subtly and silently in the covert of the reed and fens. But that +mind only is fully disciplined in its theoretic power, which can, when +it chooses, throwing off the sympathies and repugnancies with which the +ideas of destructiveness or of innocence accustom us to regard the +animal tribes, as well as those meaner likes and dislikes which arise, I +think, from the greater or less resemblance of animal powers to our own, +can pursue the pleasures of typical beauty down to the scales of the +alligator, the coils of the serpent, and the joints of the beetle; and +again, on the other hand, regardless of the impressions of typical +beauty, accept from each creature, great or small, the more important +lessons taught by its position in creation as sufferer or chastiser, as +lowly or having dominion, as of foul habit or lofty aspiration, and from +the several perfections which all illustrate or possess, courage, +perseverance, industry, or intelligence, or, higher yet, of love and +patience, and fidelity and rejoicing, and never wearied praise. Which +moral perfections that they indeed are productive, in proportion to +their expression, of instant beauty instinctively felt, is best proved +by comparing those parts of animals in which they are definitely +expressed, as for instance the eye, of which we shall find those ugliest +which have in them no expression nor life whatever, but a corpse-like +stare, or an indefinite meaningless glaring, as in some lights, those of +owls and cats, and mostly of insects and of all creatures in which the +eye seems rather an external, optical instrument than a bodily member +through which emotion and virtue of soul may be expressed, (as +pre-eminently in the chameleon,) because the seeming want of sensibility +and vitality in a living creature is the most painful of all wants. And +next to these in ugliness come the eyes that gain vitality indeed, but +only by means of the expression of intense malignity, as in the serpent +and alligator; and next to these, to whose malignity is added the virtue +of subtlety and keenness, as of the lynx and hawk; and then, by +diminishing the malignity and increasing the expressions of +comprehensiveness and determination, we arrive at those of the lion and +eagle, and at last, by destroying malignity altogether, at the fair eye +of the herbivorous tribes, wherein the superioity of beauty consists +always in the greater or less sweetness and gentleness primarily, as in +the gazelle, camel, and ox, and in the greater or less intellect, +secondarily, as in the horse and dog, and finally, in gentleness and +intellect both in man. And again, taking the mouth, another source of +expression, we find it ugliest where it has none, as mostly in fish, or +perhaps where without gaining much in expression of any kind, it becomes +a formidable destructive instrument, as again in the alligator, and +then, by some increase of expression, we arrive at birds' beaks, wherein +there is more obtained by the different ways of setting on the mandibles +than is commonly supposed, (compare the bills of the duck and the +eagle,) and thence we reach the finely developed lips of the carnivora, +which nevertheless lose that beauty they have, in the actions of +snarling and biting, and from these we pass to the nobler because +gentler and more sensible, of the horse, camel, and fawn, and so again +up to man, only there is less traceableness of the principle in the +mouths of the lower animals, because they are in slight measure only +capable of expression, and chiefly used as instruments, and that of low +function, whereas in man the mouth is given most definitely as a means +of expression, beyond and above its lower functions. Compare the remarks +of Sir Charles Bell on this subject in his Essay on Expression, and +compare the mouth of the negro head given by him (p. 28, third edition) +with that of Raffaelle's St. Catherine. I shall illustrate the subject +farther hereafter by giving the mouth of one of the demons of Orcagna's +Inferno, with projecting incisors, and that of a fish and a swine, in +opposition to pure graminivorous and human forms; but at present it is +sufficient for my purpose to insist on the single great principle, that, +wherever expression is possible, and uninterfered with by characters of +typical beauty, which confuse the subject exceedingly as regards the +mouth, (for the typical beauty of the carnivorous lips is on a grand +scale, while it exists in very low degree in the beaks of birds,) +wherever, I say, these considerations do not interfere, the beauty of +the animal form is in exact proportion to the amount of moral or +intellectual virtue expressed by it; and wherever beauty exists at all, +there is some kind of virtue to which it is owing, as the majesty of the +lion's eye is owing not to its ferocity, but to its seriousness and +seeming intellect, and of the lion's mouth to its strength and +sensibility, and not its gnashing of teeth, nor wrinkling in its wrath; +and farther be it noted, that of the intellectual or moral virtues, the +moral are those which are attended with most beauty, so that the gentle +eye of the gazelle is fairer to look upon than the more keen glance of +men, if it be unkind. + + +Sec. 11. As also in plants. + +Of the parallel effects of expression upon plants there is little to be +noted, as the mere naming of the subject cannot but bring countless +illustrations to the mind of every reader: only this, that, as we saw +they were less susceptible of our sympathetic love, owing to the absence +in them of capability of enjoyment, so they are less open to the +affections based upon the expression of moral virtue, owing to their +want of volition; so that even on those of them which are deadly and +unkind we look not without pleasure, the more because this their evil +operation cannot be by them outwardly expressed, but only by us +empirically known; so that of the outward seemings and expressions of +plants, there are few but are in some way good and therefore beautiful, +as of humility, and modesty, and love of places and things, in the +reaching out of their arms, and clasping of their tendrils; and energy +of resistance, and patience of suffering, and beneficence one towards +another in shade and protection, and to us also in scents and fruits +(for of their healing virtues, however important to us, there is no more +outward sense nor seeming than of their properties mortal or dangerous). + + +Sec. 12 Recapitulation. + +Whence, in fine, looking to the whole kingdom of organic nature, we find +that our full receiving of its beauty depends first on the sensibility +and then on the accuracy and touchstone faithfulness of the heart in its +moral judgments, so that it is necessary that we should not only love +all creatures well, but esteem them in that order which is according to +God's laws and not according to our own human passions and +predilections, not looking for swiftness, and strength, and cunning, +rather than for patience and kindness, still less delighting in their +animosity and cruelty one towards another, neither, if it may be +avoided, interfering with the working of nature in any way, nor, when we +interfere to obtain service, judging from the morbid conditions of the +animal or vegetable so induced; for we see every day the theoretic +faculty entirely destroyed in those who are interested in particular +animals, by their delight in the results of their own teaching, and by +the vain straining of curiosity for new forms such as nature never +intended, as the disgusting types for instance, which we see earnestly +sought for by the fanciers of rabbits and pigeons, and constantly in +horses, substituting for the true and balanced beauty of the free +creature some morbid development of a single power, as of swiftness in +the racer, at the expense, in certain measure, of the animal's healthy +constitution and fineness of form; and so the delight of horticulturists +in the spoiling of plants; so that in all cases we are to beware of such +opinions as seem in any way referable to human pride, or even to the +grateful or pernicious influence of things upon ourselves, and to cast +the mind free, and out of ourselves, humbly, and yet always in that +noble position of pause above the other visible creatures, nearer God +than they, which we authoritatively hold, thence looking down upon them, +and testing the clearness of our moral vision by the extent, and +fulness, and constancy of our pleasure in the light of God's love as it +embraces them, and the harmony of his holy laws, that forever bring +mercy out of rapine, and religion out of wrath. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [31] Soldanella Alpina. + + [32] I would have Mr. Landseer, before he gives us any more writhing + otters, or yelping packs, reflect whether that which is best worthy + of contemplation in a hound be its ferocity, or in an otter its + agony, or in a human being its victory, hardly achieved even with + the aid of its more sagacious brutal allies over a poor little + fish-catching creature, a foot long. + + [33] Compare Milton. + + "They at her coming sprung + And touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew" + + [34] "Type of the wise--who soar, but never roam, + True to the kindred points of heaven and home." + (WORDSWORTH.--To the Skylark.) + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + OF VITAL BEAUTY.--SECONDLY AS GENERIC. + + +Sec. 1. The beauty of fulfilment of appointed function in every animal. + +Hitherto we have observed the conclusions of the theoretic faculty with +respect to the relations of happiness, and of more or less exalted +function existing between different orders of organic being. But we must +pursue the inquiry farther yet, and observe what impressions of beauty +are connected with more or less perfect fulfilment of the appointed +function by different individuals of the same species. We are now no +longer called to pronounce upon worthiness of occupation or dignity of +disposition; but both employment and capacity being known, and the +animal's position and duty fixed, we have to regard it in that respect +alone, comparing it with other individuals of its species, and to +determine how far it worthily executes its office; whether, if scorpion, +it hath poison enough, or if tiger, strength enough, or if dove, +innocence enough, to sustain rightly its place in creation, and come up +to the perfect idea of dove, tiger, or scorpion. + +In the first or sympathetic operation of the theoretic faculty, it will +be remembered, we receive pleasure from the signs of mere happiness in +living things. In the second theoretic operation of comparing and +judging, we constituted ourselves such judges of the lower creatures as +Adam was made by God when they were brought to him to be named, and we +allowed of beauty in them as they reached, more or less, to that +standard of moral perfection by which we test ourselves. But, in the +third place, we are to come down again from the judgment seat, and +taking it for granted that every creature of God is in some way good, +and has a duty and specific operation providentially accessory to the +well-being of all, we are to look in this faith to that employment and +nature of each, and to derive pleasure from their entire perfection and +fitness for the duty they have to do, and in their entire fulfilment of +it: and so we are to take pleasure and find beauty in the magnificent +binding together of the jaws of the ichthyosaurus for catching and +holding, and in the adaptation of the lion for springing, and of the +locust for destroying, and of the lark for singing, and in every +creature for the doing of that which God has made it to do. Which +faithful pleasure in the perception of the perfect operation of lower +creatures I have placed last among the perfections of the theoretic +faculty concerning them, because it is commonly last acquired, both +owing to the humbleness and trustfulness of heart which it demands, and +because it implies a knowledge of the habits and structure of every +creature, such as we can but imperfectly possess. + + +Sec. 2. The two senses of the word "ideal." Either it refers to action of + the imagination. + +The perfect _idea_ of the form and condition in which all the properties +of the species are fully developed, is called the ideal of the species. +The question of the nature of ideal conception of species, and of the +mode in which the mind arrives at it, has been the subject of so much +discussion, and source of so much embarrassment, chiefly owing to that +unfortunate distinction between idealism and realism which leads most +people to imagine the ideal opposed to the real, and therefore _false_, +that I think it necessary to request the reader's most careful attention +to the following positions. + +Any work of art which represents, not a material object, but the mental +conception of a material object, is, in the primary sense of the word +ideal; that is to say, it represents an idea, and not a thing. Any work +of art which represents or realizes a material object, is, in the +primary sense of the term, unideal. + +Ideal works of art, therefore, in this first sense, represent the result +of an act of imagination, and are good or bad in proportion to the +healthy condition and general power of the imagination, whose acts they +represent. + +Unideal works of art (the studious production of which is termed +realism) represent actual existing things, and are good or bad in +proportion to the perfection of the representation. + +All entirely bad works of art may be divided into those which, +professing to be imaginative, bear no stamp of imagination, and are +therefore false, and those which, professing to be representative of +matter, miss of the representation and are therefore nugatory. + +It is the habit of most observers to regard art as representative of +matter, and to look only for the entireness of representation; and it +was to this view of art that I limited the arguments of the former +sections of the present work, wherein having to oppose the conclusions +of a criticism entirely based upon the realist system, I was compelled +to meet that criticism on its own grounds. But the greater part of works +of art, more especially those devoted to the expression of ideas of +beauty, are the results of the agency of imagination, their worthiness +depending, as above stated, on the healthy condition of the imagination. + +Hence it is necessary for us, in order to arrive at conclusions +respecting the worthiness of such works, to define and examine the +nature of the imaginative faculty, and to determine first what are the +signs or conditions of its existence at all; and secondly, what are the +evidences of its healthy and efficient existence, upon which examination +I shall enter in the second section of the present part. + + +Sec. 3. Or to perfection of type. + +But there is another sense of the word ideal besides this, and it is +that with which we are here concerned. It is evident that, so long as we +use the word to signify that art which represents ideas and not things, +we may use it as truly of the art which represents an idea of Caliban, +and not real Caliban, as of the art which represents an idea of +Antinous, and not real Antinous. For that is as much imagination which +conceives the monster as which conceives the man. If, however, Caliban +and Antinous be creatures of the same species, and the form of the one +contain not the fully developed types or characters of the species, +while the form of the other presents the greater part of them, then the +latter is said to be a form more ideal than the other, as a nearer +approximation to the general idea or conception of the species. + + +Sec. 4. This last sense how inaccurate, yet to be retained. + +Now it is evident that this use of the word ideal is much less accurate +than the other, from which it is derived, for it rests on the assumption +that the assemblage of all the characters of a species in their perfect +development cannot exist but in the imagination. For if it can actually +and in reality exist, it is not right to call it ideal or imaginary; it +would be better to call it characteristic or general, and to reserve the +word ideal for the results of the operation of the imagination, either +on the perfect or imperfect forms. + +Nevertheless, the word ideal has been so long and universally accepted +in this sense, that I think it better to continue the use of it, so only +that the reader will be careful to observe the distinction in the sense, +according to the subject matter under discussion. At present then, using +it as expressive of the noble generic form which indicates the full +perfection of the creature in all its functions, I wish to examine how +far this perception exists or may exist in nature, and if not in nature, +how it is by us discoverable or imaginable. + + +Sec. 5. Of Ideal form. First, in the lower animals. + +Now it is better, when we wish to arrive at truth, always to take +familiar instances, wherein the mind is not likely to be biassed by any +elevated associations or favorite theories. Let us ask therefore, first, +what kind of ideal form may be attributed to a limpet or an oyster, that +is to say, whether all oysters do or do not come up to the entire notion +or idea of an oyster. I apprehend that, although in respect of size, +age, and kind of feeding, there may be some difference between them, yet +of those which are of full size and healthy condition there will be +found many which fulfil the conditions of an oyster in every respect, +and that so perfectly, that we could not, by combining the features of +two or more together, produce a more perfect oyster than any that we +see. I suppose also, that, out of a number of healthy fish, birds, or +beasts of the same species, it would not be easy to select an individual +as superior to _all_ the rest; neither by comparing two or more of the +nobler examples together, to arrive at the conception of a form superior +to that of either; but that, though the accidents of more abundant food +or more fitting habitation may induce among them some varieties of size, +strength, and color, yet the entire generic form would be presented by +many, neither would any art be able to add to or diminish from it. + + +Sec. 6. In what consistent. + +It is, therefore, hardly right to use the word ideal of the generic +forms of these creatures, of which we see actual examples; but if we are +to use it, then be it distinctly understood that their ideality consists +in the full development of all the powers and properties of the creature +as such, and is inconsistent with accidental or imperfect developments, +and even with great variation from average size, the ideal size being +neither gigantic nor diminutive, but the utmost grandeur and entireness +of proportion at a certain point above the mean size; for as more +individuals always fall short of generic size than rise above it, the +generic is above the average or mean size. And this perfection of the +creature invariably involves the utmost possible degree of all those +properties of beauty, both typical and vital, which it is appointed to +possess. + + +Sec. 7. Ideal form in vegetables. + +Let us next observe the conditions of ideality in vegetables. Out of a +large number of primroses or violets, I apprehend that, although one or +two might be larger than all the rest, the greater part would be very +sufficient primroses and violets. And that we could, by no study nor +combination of violets, conceive of a better violet than many in the +bed. And so generally of the blossoms and separate members of all +vegetables. + +But among the entire forms of the complex vegetables, as of oak-trees, +for instance, there exists very large and constant difference, some +being what we hold to be fine oaks, as in parks, and places where they +are taken care of, and have their own way, and some are but poor and +mean oaks, which have had no one to take care of them, but have been +obliged to maintain themselves. + +That which we have to determine is, whether ideality be predicable of +the fine oaks only, or whether the poor and mean oaks also may be +considered as ideal, that is, coming up to the conditions of oak, and +the general notion of oak. + + +Sec. 8. The difference of position between plants and animals. + +Now there is this difference between the positions held in creation by +animals and plants, and thence in the dispositions with which we regard +them; that the animals, being for the most part locomotive, are capable +both of living where they choose, and of obtaining what food they want, +and of fulfilling all the conditions necessary to their health and +perfection. For which reason they are answerable for such health and +perfection, and we should be displeased and hurt if we did not find it +in one individual as well as another. + + +Sec. 9. Admits of variety in the ideal of the former. + +But the case is evidently different with plants. They are intended +fixedly to occupy many places comparatively unfit for them, and to fill +up all the spaces where greenness, and coolness, and ornament, and +oxygen are wanted, and that with very little reference to their comfort +or convenience. Now it would be hard upon the plant if, after being tied +to a particular spot, where it is indeed much wanted, and is a great +blessing, but where it has enough to do to live, whence it cannot move +to obtain what it wants or likes, but must stretch its unfortunate arms +here and there for bare breath and light, and split its way among rocks, +and grope for sustenance in unkindly soil; it would be hard upon the +plant, I say, if under all these disadvantages, it were made answerable +for its appearance, and found fault with because it was not a fine plant +of the kind. And so we find it ordained that in order that no unkind +comparisons may be drawn between one and another, there are not +appointed to plants the fixed number, position, and proportion of +members which are ordained in animals, (and any variation from which in +these is unpardonable,) but a continually varying number and position, +even among the more freely growing examples, admitting therefore all +kinds of license to those which have enemies to contend with, and that +without in any way detracting from their dignity and perfection. + +So then there is in trees no perfect form which can be fixed upon or +reasoned out as ideal; but that is always an ideal oak which, however +poverty-stricken, or hunger-pinched, or tempest-tortured, is yet seen to +have done, under its appointed circumstances, all that could be expected +of oak. + +The ideal, therefore, of the park oak is that to which I alluded in the +conclusion of the former part of this work, full size, united terminal +curve, equal and symmetrical range of branches on each side. The ideal +of the mountain oak may be anything, twisting, and leaning, and +shattered, and rock-encumbered, so only that amidst all its misfortunes, +it maintain the dignity of oak; and, indeed, I look upon this kind of +tree as more ideal than the other, in so far as by its efforts and +struggles, more of its nature, enduring power, patience in waiting for, +and ingenuity in obtaining what it wants, is brought out, and so more of +the essence of oak exhibited, than under more fortunate conditions. + + +Sec. 10. Ideal form in vegetables destroyed by cultivation. + +And herein, then, we at last find the cause of that fact which we have +twice already noted, that the exalted or seemingly improved condition, +whether of plant or animal, induced by human interference, is not the +true and artistical ideal of it.[35] It has been well shown by Dr. +Herbert,[36] that many plants are found alone on a certain soil or +subsoil in a wild state, not because such soil is favorable to them, but +because they alone are capable of existing on it, and because all +dangerous rivals are by its inhospitality removed. Now if we withdraw +the plant from this position, which it hardly endures, and supply it +with the earth, and maintain about it the temperature that it delights +in; withdrawing from it at the same time all rivals which, in such +conditions nature would have thrust upon it, we shall indeed obtain a +magnificently developed example of the plant, colossal in size, and +splendid in organization, but we shall utterly lose in it that moral +ideal which is dependent on its right fulfilment of its appointed +functions. It was intended and created by the Deity for the covering of +those lonely spots where no other plant could live; it has been thereto +endowed with courage, and strength, and capacities of endurance +unequalled; its character and glory are not therefore in the gluttonous +and idle feeling of its own over luxuriance, at the expense of other +creatures utterly destroyed and rooted out for its good alone, but in +its right doing of its hard duty; and forward climbing into those spots +of forlorn hope where it alone can bear witness to the kindness and +presence of the Spirit that cutteth out rivers among the rocks, as it +covers the valleys with corn: and there, in its vanward place, and only +there, where nothing is withdrawn for it, nor hurt by it, and where +nothing can take part of its honor, nor usurp its throne, are its +strength, and fairness, and price, and goodness in the sight of God, to +be truly esteemed. + + +Sec. 11. Instance in the Soldanella and Ranunculus. + +The first time that I saw the soldanella alpina, before spoken of, it +was growing, of magnificent size, on a sunny Alpine pasture, among +bleating of sheep and lowing of cattle, associated with a profusion of +geum montanum, and ranunculus pyrenaeus. I noticed it only because new to +me, nor perceived any peculiar beauty in its cloven flower. Some days +after, I found it alone, among the rack of the higher clouds, and +howling of glacier winds, and, as I described it, piercing through an +edge of avalanche, which in its retiring had left the new ground brown +and lifeless, and as if burned by recent fire; the plant was poor and +feeble, and seemingly exhausted with its efforts, but it was then that I +comprehended its ideal character, and saw its noble function and order +of glory among the constellations of the earth. + +The ranunculus glacialis might perhaps, by cultivation, be blanched from +its wan and corpse-like paleness to purer white, and won to more +branched and lofty development of its ragged leaves. But the ideal of +the plant is to be found only in the last, loose stones of the moraine, +alone there; wet with the cold, unkindly drip of the glacier water, and +trembling as the loose and steep dust to which it clings yields ever and +anon, and shudders and crumbles away from about its root. + + +Sec. 12. The beauty of repose and felicity, how consistent with such ideal. + +And if it be asked how this conception of the utmost beauty of ideal +form is consistent with what we formerly argued respecting the +pleasantness of the appearance of felicity in the creature, let it be +observed, and forever held, that the right and true happiness of every +creature, is in this very discharge of its function, and in those +efforts by which its strength and inherent energy are developed: and +that the repose of which we also spoke as necessary to all beauty, is, +as was then stated, repose not of inanition, nor of luxury, nor of +irresolution, but the repose of magnificent energy and being; in action, +the calmness of trust and determination; in rest, the consciousness of +duty accomplished and of victory won, and this repose and this felicity +can take place as well in the midst of trial and tempest, as beside the +waters of comfort; they perish only when the creature is either +unfaithful to itself, or is afflicted by circumstances unnatural and +malignant to its being, and for the contending with which it was neither +fitted nor ordained. Hence that rest which is indeed glorious is of the +chamois couched breathless on his granite bed, not of the stalled ox +over his fodder, and that happiness which is indeed beautiful is in the +bearing of those trial tests which are appointed for the proving of +every creature, whether it be good, or whether it be evil; and in the +fulfilment to the uttermost of every command it has received, and the +out-carrying to the uttermost of every power and gift it has gotten from +its God. + + +Sec. 13. The ideality of Art. + +Therefore the task of the painter in his pursuit of ideal form is to +attain accurate knowledge, so far as may be in his power, of the +character, habits, and peculiar virtues and duties of every species of +being; down even to the stone, for there is an ideality of stones +according to their kind, an ideality of granite and slate and marble, +and it is in the utmost and most exalted exhibition of such individual +character, order, and use, that all ideality of art consists. The more +cautious he is in assigning the right species of moss to its favorite +trunk, and the right kind of weed to its necessary stone, in marking the +definite and characteristic leaf, blossom, seed, fracture, color, and +inward anatomy of everything, the more truly ideal his work becomes. All +confusion of species, all careless rendering of character, all unnatural +and arbitrary association, is vulgar and unideal in proportion to its +degree. + + +Sec. 14. How connected with the imaginative faculties. + +It is to be noted, however, that nature sometimes in a measure herself +conceals these generic differences, and that when she displays them it +is commonly on a scale too small for human hand to follow. + +The pursuit and seizure of the generic differences in their concealment, +and the display of them on a larger and more palpable scale, is one of +the wholesome and healthy operations of the imagination of which we are +presently to speak.[37] + +Generic differences being commonly exhibited by art in different manner +and way from that of their natural occurrence, are in this respect more +strictly and truly ideal in art than in reality. + + +Sec. 15. Ideality, how belonging to ages and conditions. + +This only remains to be noted, that, of all creatures whose existence +involves birth, progress, and dissolution, ideality is predicable all +through their existence, so that they be perfect with reference to their +supposed period of being. Thus there is an ideal of infancy, of youth, +of old age, of death, and of decay. But when the ideal form of the +species is spoken of or conceived in general terms, the form is +understood to be of that period when the generic attributes are +perfectly developed, and previous to the commencement of their decline. +At which period all the characters of vital and typical beauty are +commonly most concentrated in them, though the arrangement and +proportion of these characters varies at different periods, youth having +more of the vigorous beauty, and age of the reposing; youth of typical +outward fairness, and age of expanded and etherealized moral expression; +the babe, again, in some measure atoning in gracefulness for its want of +strength, so that the balanced glory of the creature continues in solemn +interchange, perhaps even + + "Filling more and more with crystal light, + As pensive evening deepens into night." + +Hitherto, however, we have confined ourselves to the examination of +ideal form in the lower animals, and we have found that, to arrive at +it, no combination of forms nor exertion of fancy is required, but only +simple choice among those naturally presented, together with careful +investigation and anatomizing of the habits of the creatures. I fear we +shall arrive at a very different conclusion, in considering the ideal +form of man. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [35] I speak not here of those conditions of vegetation which have + especial reference to man, as of seeds and fruits, whose sweetness + and farina seem in great measure given, not for the plant's sake, + but for his, and to which therefore the interruption in the harmony + of creation of which he was the cause is extended, and their + sweetness and larger measure of good to be obtained only by his + redeeming labor. His curse has fallen on the corn and the vine, and + the wild barley misses of its fulness, that he may eat bread by the + sweat of his brow. + + [36] Journal of the Horticultural Society. Part I. + + [37] Compare Sect. II. Chap. IV. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + OF VITAL BEAUTY.--THIRDLY, IN MAN. + + +Sec. 1. Condition of the human creature entirely different from that of the + lower animals. + +Having thus passed gradually through all the orders and fields of +creation, and traversed that goodly line of God's happy creatures who +"leap not, but express a feast, where all the guests sit close, and +nothing wants," without finding any deficiency which human invention +might supply, nor any harm which human interference might mend, we come +at last to set ourselves face to face with ourselves, expecting that in +creatures made after the image of God we are to find comeliness and +completion more exquisite than in the fowls of the air and the things +that pass through the paths of the sea. + +But behold now a sudden change from all former experience. No longer +among the individuals of the race is there equality or likeness, a +distributed fairness and fixed type visible in each, but evil diversity, +and terrible stamp of various degradation; features seamed with +sickness, dimmed by sensuality, convulsed by passion, pinched by +poverty, shadowed by sorrow, branded with remorse; bodies consumed with +sloth, broken down by labor, tortured by disease, dishonored in foul +uses; intellects without power, hearts without hope, minds earthly and +devilish; our bones full of the sin of our youth, the heaven revealing +our iniquity, the earth rising up against us, the roots dried up +beneath, and the branch cut off above; well for us only, if, after +beholding this our natural face in a glass, we desire not straightway to +forget what manner of men we be. + + +Sec. 2. What room here for idealization. + +Herein there is at last something, and too much, for that short stopping +intelligence and dull perception of ours to accomplish, whether in +earnest fact, or in the seeking for the outward image of beauty:--to +undo the devil's work, to restore to the body the grace and the power +which inherited disease has destroyed, to return to the spirit the +purity, and to the intellect the grasp that they had in Paradise. Now, +first of all, this work, be it observed is in no respect a work of +imagination. Wrecked we are, and nearly all to pieces; but that little +good by which we are to redeem ourselves is to be got out of the old +wreck, beaten about and full of sand though it be; and not out of that +desert island of pride on which the devils split first, and we after +them: and so the only restoration of the body that we can reach is not +to be coined out of our fancies, but to be collected out of such +uninjured and bright vestiges of the old seal as we can find and set +together, and so the ideal of the features, as the good and perfect soul +is seen in them, is not to be reached by imagination, but by the seeing +and reaching forth of the better part of the soul to that of which it +must first know the sweetness and goodness in itself, before it can much +desire, or rightly find, the signs of it in others. + +I say much desire and rightly find, because there is not any soul so +sunk but that it shall in some measure feel the impression of mental +beauty in the human features, and detest in others its own likeness, and +in itself despise that which of itself it has made. + + +Sec. 3. How the conception of the bodily ideal is reached. + +Now, of the ordinary process by which the realization of ideal bodily +form is reached, there is explanation enough in all treatises on art, +and it is so far well comprehended that I need not stay long to consider +it. So far as the sight and knowledge of the human form, of the purest +race, exercised from infancy constantly, but not excessively in all +exercises of dignity, not in twists and straining dexterities, but in +natural exercises of running, casting, or riding; practised in +endurance, not of extraordinary hardship, for that hardens and degrades +the body, but of natural hardship, vicissitudes of winter and summer, +and cold and heat, yet in a climate where none of these are severe; +surrounded also by a certain degree of right luxury, so as to soften and +refine the forms of strength; so far as the sight of all this could +render the mental intelligence of what is right in human form so acute +as to be able to abstract and combine from the best examples so +produced, that which was most perfect in each, so far the Greek +conceived and attained the ideal of bodily form: and on the Greek modes +of attaining it, as well as on what he produced, as a perfect example of +it, chiefly dwell those writers whose opinions on this subject I have +collected; wholly losing sight of what seems to me the most important +branch of the inquiry, namely, the influence for good or evil of the +mind upon the bodily shape, the wreck of the mind itself, and the modes +by which we may conceive of its restoration. + + +Sec. 4. Modifications of the bodily ideal owing to influence of mind. + First, of intellect. + +Now, the operation of the mind upon the body, and evidence of it +thereon, may be considered under the following three general heads. + +First, the operation of the intellectual powers upon the features, in +the fine cutting and chiselling of them, and removal from them of signs +of sensuality and sloth, by which they are blunted and deadened, and +substitution of energy and intensity for vacancy and insipidity, (by +which wants alone the faces of many fair women are utterly spoiled and +rendered valueless,) and by the keenness given to the eye and fine +moulding and development to the brow, of which effects Sir Charles Bell +has well noted the desirableness and opposition to brutal types, (p. 59, +third edition;) only this he has not sufficiently observed, that there +are certain virtues of the intellect in measure inconsistent with each +other, as perhaps great subtlety with great comprehensiveness, and high +analytical with high imaginative power, or that at least, if consistent +and compatible, their signs upon the features are not the same, so that +the outward form cannot express both, without in a measure expressing +neither; and so there are certain separate virtues of the outward form +correspondent with the more constant employment or more prevailing +capacity of the brain, as the piercing keenness, or open and reflective +comprehensiveness of the eye and forehead, and that all these virtues of +form are ideal, only those the most so which are the signs of the +worthiest powers of intellect, though which these be, we will not at +present stay to inquire. + + +Sec. 5. Secondly, of the moral feelings. + +Sec. 6. What beauty is bestowed by them + +The second point to be considered in the influence of mind upon body, is +the mode of operation and conjunction of the moral feelings on and with +the intellectual powers, and then their conjoint influence on the bodily +form. Now, the operation of the right moral feelings on the intellect is +always for the good of the latter, for it is not possible that +selfishness should reason rightly in any respect, but must be blind in +its estimation of the worthiness of all things, neither anger, for that +overpowers the reason or outcries it, neither sensuality, for that +overgrows and chokes it, neither agitation, for that has no time to +compare things together, neither enmity, for that must be unjust, +neither fear, for that exaggerates all things, neither cunning and +deceit, for that which is voluntarily untrue will soon be unwittingly +so: but the great reasoners are self-command, and trust unagitated, and +deep-looking Love, and Faith, which as she is above Reason, so she best +holds the reins of it from her high seat: so that they err grossly who +think of the right development even of the intellectual type as +possible, unless we look to higher sources of beauty first. +Nevertheless, though in their operation _upon_ them the moral feelings +are thus elevatory of the mental faculties, yet in their conjunction +_with_ them they seem to occupy, in their own fulness, such room as to +absorb and overshadow all else, so that the simultaneous exercise of +both is in a sort impossible; for which cause we occasionally find the +moral part in full development and action, without corresponding +expanding of the intellect (though never without healthy condition of +it,) as in that of Wordsworth, + + "In such high hour + Of visitation from the Living God, + Thought was not;" + +only I think that if we look far enough, we shall find that it is not +intelligence itself, but the immediate act and effort of a laborious, +struggling, and imperfect intellectual faculty, with which high moral +emotion is inconsistent; and that though we cannot, while we feel +deeply, reason shrewdly, yet I doubt if, _except_ when we feel deeply, +we can ever comprehend fully; so that it is only the climbing and +mole-like piercing, and not the sitting upon their central throne, nor +emergence into light, of the intellectual faculties which the full heart +feeling allows not. Hence, therefore, in the indications of the +countenance, they are only the hard cut lines, and rigid settings, and +wasted hollows, that speak of past effort and painfulness of mental +application, which are inconsistent with expression of moral feeling, +for all these are of infelicitous augury; but not the full and serene +development of habitual command in the look, and solemn thought in the +brow, only these, in their unison with the signs of emotion, become +softened and gradually confounded with a serenity and authority of +nobler origin. But of the sweetness which that higher serenity (of +happiness,) and the dignity which that higher authority (of Divine law, +and not human reason,) can and must stamp on the features, it would be +futile to speak here at length, for I suppose that both are acknowledged +on all hands, and that there is not any beauty but theirs to which men +pay long obedience: at all events, if not by sympathy discovered, it is +not in words explicable with what divine lines and lights the exercise +of godliness and charity will mould and gild the hardest and coldest +countenance, neither to what darkness their departure will consign the +loveliest. For there is not any virtue the exercise of which, even +momentarily, will not impress a new fairness upon the features, neither +on them only, but on the whole body, both the intelligence and the moral +faculties have operation, for even all the movement and gestures, +however slight, are different in their modes according to the mind that +governs them, and on the gentleness and decision of just feeling there +follows a grace of action, and through continuance of this a grace of +form, which by no discipline may be taught or attained. + + +Sec. 7. How the soul culture interferes harmfully with the bodily ideal. + +The third point to be considered with respect to the corporeal +expression of mental character is, that there is a certain period of the +soul culture when it begins to interfere with some of the characters of +typical beauty belonging to the bodily frame, the stirring of the +intellect wearing down the flesh, and the moral enthusiasm burning its +way out to heaven, through the emaciation of the earthen vessel; and +that there is, in this indication of subduing of the mortal by the +immortal part, an ideal glory of perhaps a purer and higher range than +that of the more perfect material form. We conceive, I think, more nobly +of the weak presence of Paul, than of the fair and ruddy countenance of +Daniel. + + +Sec. 8. The inconsistency among the effects of the mental virtues on the + form. + +Sec. 9. Is a sign of God's kind purpose towards the race. + +Sec. 10. Consequent separation and difference of ideals. + +Now, be it observed that in our consideration of these three directions +of mental influence, we have several times been compelled to stop short +of definite conclusions owing to the apparent inconsistency of certain +excellences and beauties to which they tend, as, first, of different +kinds of intellect with each other; and secondly, of the moral faculties +with the intellectual, (and if we had separately examined the moral +emotions, we should have found certain inconsistencies among them also,) +and again of the soul culture generally with the bodily perfections. +Such inconsistencies we should find in the perfections of no other +animal. The strength or swiftness of the dog are not inconsistent with +his sagacity, nor is bodily labor in the ant or bee destructive of their +acuteness of instinct. And this peculiarity of relation among the +perfections of man is no result of his fall or sinfulness, but an +evidence of his greater nobility, and of the goodness of God towards +him. For the individuals of each race of lower animals, being not +intended to hold among each other those relations of charity which are +the privilege of humanity, are not adapted to each other's assistance, +admiration, or support, by differences of power and function. But the +love of the human race is increased by their individual differences, and +the unity of the creature, as before we saw of all unity, made perfect +by each having something to bestow and to receive, bound to the rest by +a thousand various necessities and various gratitudes, humility in each +rejoicing to admire in his fellow that which he finds not in himself, +and each being in some respect the complement of his race. Therefore, in +investigating the signs of the ideal or perfect type of humanity, we +must not presume on the singleness of that type, and yet, on the other +hand, we must cautiously distinguish between differences conceivably +existing in a perfect state, and differences resulting from immediate +and present operation of the Adamite curse. Of which the former are +differences that bind, and the latter that separate. For although we can +suppose the ideal or perfect human heart, and the perfect human +intelligence, equally adapted to receive every right sensation and +pursue every order of truth, yet as it is appointed for some to be in +authority and others in obedience, some in solitary functions and others +in relative ones, some to receive and others to give, some to teach and +some to discover; and as all these varieties of office are not only +conceivable as existing in a perfect state of man, but seem almost to be +implied by it, and at any rate cannot be done away with but by a total +change of his constitution and dependencies, of which the imagination +can take no hold; so there are habits and capacities of expression +induced by these various offices, which admit of many separate ideals of +equal perfection, according to the functions of the creatures, so that +there is an ideal of authority, of judgment, of affection, of reason, +and of faith; neither can any combination of these ideals be attained, +not that the just judge is to be supposed incapable of affection, nor +the king incapable of obedience, but as it is impossible that any +essence short of the Divine should at the same instant be equally +receptive of all emotions, those emotions which, by right and order, +have the most usual victory, both leave the stamp of their habitual +presence on the body, and render the individual more and more +susceptible of them in proportion to the frequency of their prevalent +recurrence; added to which causes of distinctive character are to be +taken into account the differences of age and sex, which, though +seemingly of more finite influence, cannot be banished from any human +conception. David, ruddy and of a fair countenance, with the brook stone +of deliverance in his hand, is not more ideal than David leaning on the +old age of Barzillai, returning chastened to his kingly home. And they +who are as the angels of God in heaven, yet cannot be conceived as so +assimilated that their different experiences and affections upon earth +shall then be forgotten and effectless: the child taken early to his +place cannot be imagined to wear there such a body, nor to have such +thoughts, as the glorified apostle who has finished his course and kept +the faith on earth. And so whatever perfections and likeness of love we +may attribute to either the tried or the crowned creatures, there is the +difference of the stars in glory among them yet; differences of original +gifts, though not of occupying till their Lord come, different +dispensations of trial and of trust, of sorrow and support, both in +their own inward, variable hearts, and in their positions of exposure or +of peace, of the gourd shadow and the smiting sun, of calling at heat of +day or eleventh hour, of the house unroofed by faith, and the clouds +opened by revelation: differences in warning, in mercies, in sicknesses, +in signs, in time of calling to account; like only they all are by that +which is not of them, but the gift of God's unchangeable mercy. "I will +give unto this last even as unto thee." + + +Sec. 11. The _effects_ of the Adamite curse are to be distinguished from + signs of its immediate activity. + +Sec. 12. Which latter only are to be banished from ideal form. + +Hence, then, be it observed, that what we must determinedly banish from +the human form and countenance in our seeking of its ideal, is not +everything which can be ultimately traced to the Adamite fall for its +cause, but only the immediate operation and presence of the degrading +power or sin. For there is not any part of our feeling of nature, nor +can there be through eternity, which shall not be in some way influenced +and affected by the fall, and that not in any way of degradation, for +the renewing in the divinity of Christ is a nobler condition than ever +that of Paradise, and yet throughout eternity it must imply and refer to +the disobedience, and the corrupt state of sin and death, and the +suffering of Christ himself, which can we conceive of any redeemed soul +as for an instant forgetting, or as remembering without sorrow? Neither +are the alternations of joy and such sorrow as by us is inconceivable, +being only as it were a softness and silence in the pulse of an infinite +felicity, inconsistent with the state even of the unfallen, for the +angels who rejoice over repentance cannot but feel an uncomprehended +pain as they try and try again in vain, whether they may not warm hard +hearts with the brooding of their kind wings. So that we have not to +banish from the ideal countenance the evidences of sorrow, nor of past +suffering, nor even of past and conquered sin, but only the immediate +operation of any evil, or the immediate coldness and hollowness of any +good emotion. And hence in that contest before noted, between the body +and the soul, we may often have to indicate the body as far conquered +and outworn, and with signs of hard struggle and bitter pain upon it, +and yet without ever diminishing the purity of its ideal; and because it +is not in the power of any human imagination to reason out or conceive +the countless modifications of experience, suffering, and separated +feeling, which have modelled and written their indelible images in +various order upon every human countenance, so no right ideal can be +reached by any combination of feature nor by any moulding and melting of +individual beauties together, and still less without model or example +conceived; but there is a perfect ideal to be wrought out of _every_ +face around us that has on its forehead the writing and the seal of the +angel ascending from the East,[38] by the earnest study and penetration +of the written history thereupon, and the banishing of the blots and +stains, wherein we still see in all that is human, the visible and +instant operation of unconquered sin. + + +Sec. 13. Ideal form is only to be obtained by portraiture. + +Now I see not how any of the steps of the argument by which we have +arrived at this conclusion can be evaded, and yet it would be difficult +to state anything more directly opposite to the usual teaching and +practice of artists. It is usual to hear portraiture opposed to the +pursuit of ideality, and yet we find that no face can be ideal which is +not a portrait. Of this general principle, however, there are certain +modifications which we must presently state; let us first, however, +pursue it a little farther, and deduce its practical consequences. + + +Sec. 14. Instances among the greater of the ideal Masters. + +These are, first, that the pursuit of idealism in humanity, as of +idealism in lower nature, can be successful only when followed through +the most constant, patient, and humble rendering of actual models, +accompanied with that earnest mental as well as ocular study of each, +which can interpret all that is written upon it, disentangle the +hieroglyphics of its sacred history, rend the veil of the bodily temple, +and rightly measure the relations of good and evil contending within it +for mastery,[39] that everything done without such study must be shallow +and contemptible, that generalization or combination of individual +character will end less in the mending than the losing of it, and, +except in certain instances of which we shall presently take note, is +valueless and vapid, even if it escape being painful from its want of +truth, which in these days it often in some measure does, for we indeed +find faces about us with want enough of life or wholesome character in +them to justify anything. And that habit of the old and great painters +of introducing portrait into all their highest works, I look to, not as +error in them, but as the very source and root of their superiority in +all things, for they were too great and too humble not to see in every +face about them that which was above them, and which no fancies of +theirs could match nor take place of, wherefore we find the custom of +portraiture constant with them, both portraiture of study and for +purposes of analysis, as with Leonardo; and actual, professed, +serviceable, hardworking portraiture of the men of their time, as with +Raffaelle, and Titian, and Tintoret; and portraiture of Love, as with +Fra Bartolomeo of Savonarola, and Simon Memmi of Petrarch, and Giotto of +Dante, and Gentile Bellini of a beloved imagination of Dandolo, and with +Raffaelle constantly; and portraiture in real downright necessity of +models, even in their noblest works, as was the practice of Ghirlandajo +perpetually, and Masaccio and Raffaelle, and manifestly of the men of +highest and purest ideal purpose, as again, Giotto, and in his +characteristic monkish heads, Angelico, and John Bellini, (note +especially the St. Christopher at the side of that mighty picture of St. +Jerome, at Venice,) and so of all: which practice had indeed a perilous +tendency for men of debased mind, who used models such as and where they +ought not, as Lippi and the corrupted Raffaelle; and is found often at +exceeding disadvantage among men who looked not at their models with +intellectual or loving penetration, but took the outside of them, or +perhaps took the evil and left the good, as Titian in that Academy study +at Venice which is called a St. John, and all workers whatsoever that I +know of, after Raffaelle's time, as Guido and the Caracci, and such +others: but it is nevertheless the necessary and sterling basis of all +ideal art, neither has any great man ever been able to do without it, +nor dreamed of doing without it even to the close of his days. + + +Sec. 15. Evil results of opposite practice in modern times. + +And therefore there is not any greater sign of the utter want of +vitality and hopefulness in the schools of the present day than that +unhappy prettiness and sameness under which they mask, or rather for +which they barter, in their lentile thirst, all the birthright and power +of nature, which prettiness, wrought out and spun fine in the study, out +of empty heads, till it hardly betters the blocks on which dresses and +hair are tried in barbers' windows and milliners' books, cannot but be +revolting to any man who has his eyes, even in a measure, open to the +divinity of the immortal seal on the common features that he meets in +the highways and hedges hourly and momentarily, outreaching all efforts +of conception as all power of realization, were it Raffaelle's three +times over, even when the glory of the wedding garment is not there. + + +Sec. 16. The right use of the model. + +So far, then, of the use of the model and the preciousness of it in all +art, from the highest to the lowest. But the use of the model is not +all. It must be used in a certain way, and on this choice of right or +wrong way all our ends are at stake, for the art, which is of no power +without the model, is of pernicious and evil power if the model be +wrongly used. What the right use is, has been at least established, if +not fully explained, in the argument by which we arrived at the general +principle. + +The right ideal is to be reached, we have asserted, only by the +banishment of the immediate signs of sin upon the countenance and body. +How, therefore, are the signs of sin to be known and separated? + + +Sec. 17. Ideal form to be reached only by love. + +No intellectual operation is here of any avail. There is not any +reasoning by which the evidences of depravity are to be traced in +movements of muscle or forms of feature; there is not any knowledge, nor +experience, nor diligence of comparison that can be of avail. Here, as +throughout the operation of the theoretic faculty, the perception is +altogether moral, an instinctive love and clinging to the lines of +light. Nothing but love can read the letters, nothing but sympathy catch +the sound, there is no pure passion that can be understood or painted +except by pureness of heart; the foul or blunt feeling will see itself +in everything, and set down blasphemies; it will see Beelzebub in the +casting out of devils, it will find its god of flies in every alabaster +box of precious ointment. The indignation of zeal towards God (nemesis) +it will take for anger against man, faith and veneration it will miss +of, as not comprehending, charity it will turn into lust, compassion +into pride, every virtue it will go over against, like Shimei, casting +dust. But the right Christian mind will in like manner find its own +image wherever it exists, it will seek for what it loves, and draw it +out of all dens and caves, and it will believe in its being, often when +it cannot see it, and always turn away its eyes from beholding vanity; +and so it will lie lovingly over all the faults and rough places of the +human heart, as the snow from heaven does over the hard, and black, and +broken mountain rocks, following their forms truly, and yet catching +light for them to make them fair, and that must be a steep and unkindly +crag indeed which it cannot cover. + + +Sec. 18. Practical principles deducible. + +Now of this spirit there will always be little enough in the world, and +it cannot be given nor taught by men, and so it is of little use to +insist on it farther, only I may note some practical points respecting +the ideal treatment of human form, which may be of use in these +thoughtless days. There is not the face, I have said, which the painter +may not make ideal if he choose, but that subtile feeling which shall +find out all of good that there is in any given countenance is not, +except by concern for other things than art, to be acquired. But certain +broad indications of evil there are which the bluntest feeling may +perceive, and which the habit of distinguishing and casting out would +both ennoble the schools of art, and lead in time to greater acuteness +of perception with respect to the less explicable characters of soul +beauty. + + +Sec. 19. Expressions chiefly destructive of ideal character. 1st. Pride. + +Those signs of evil which are commonly most manifest on the human +features are roughly divisible into these four kinds, the signs of +pride, of sensuality, of fear, and of cruelty. Any one of which will +destroy the ideal character of the countenance and body. + + +Sec. 20. Portraiture ancient and modern. + +Now of these, the first, pride, is perhaps the most destructive of all +the four, seeing it is the undermost and original story of all sin; and +it is base also from the necessary foolishness of it, because at its +best, that is when grounded on a just estimation of our own elevation +or superiority above certain others, it cannot but imply that our eyes +look downward only, and have never been raised above our own measure, +for there is not the man so lofty in his standing nor capacity but he +must be humble in thinking of the cloud habitation and far sight of the +angelic intelligences above him, and in perceiving what infinity there +is of things he cannot know nor even reach unto, as it stands compared +with that little body of things he can reach, and of which nevertheless +he can altogether understand not one; not to speak of that wicked and +fond attributing of such excellency as he may have to himself, and +thinking of it as his own getting, which is the real essence and +criminality of pride, nor of those viler forms of it, founded on false +estimation of things beneath us and irrational contemning of them: but +taken at its best, it is still base to that degree that there is no +grandeur of feature which it cannot destroy and make despicable, so that +the first step towards the ennobling of any face is the ridding it of +its vanity; to which aim there cannot be anything more contrary than +that principle of portraiture which prevails with us in these days, +whose end seems to be the expression of vanity throughout, in face and +in all circumstances of accompaniment, tending constantly to insolence +of attitude, and levity and haughtiness of expression, and worked out +farther in mean accompaniments of worldly splendor and possession, +together with hints or proclamations of what the person has done or +supposes himself to have done, which, if known, it is gratuitous in the +portrait to exhibit, and if unknown, it is insolent in the portrait to +proclaim; whence has arisen such a school of portraiture as must make +the people of the nineteenth century the shame of their descendants, and +the butt of all time. To which practices are to be opposed both the +glorious severity of Holbein, and the mighty and simple modesty of +Raffaelle, Titian, Giorgione, and Tintoret, with whom armor does not +constitute the warrior, neither silk the dame. And from what feeling the +dignity of that portraiture arose is best traceable at Venice, where we +find their victorious doges painted neither in the toil of battle nor +the triumph of return, nor set forth with thrones and curtains of state, +but kneeling always crownless, and returning thanks to God for his help, +or as priests, interceding for the nation in its affliction. Which +feeling and its results have been so well traced out by Rio,[40] that I +need not speak of it farther. + + +Sec. 21. Secondly, Sensuality. + +Sec. 22. How connected with impurity of color. + +Sec. 23. And prevented by its splendor. + +Sec. 24. Or by severity of drawing. + +That second destroyer of ideal form, the appearance of sensual +character, though not less fatal in its operation on modern art, is more +difficult to trace, owing to its peculiar subtlety. For it is not +possible to say by what minute differences the right conception of the +human form is separated from that which is luscious and foul: for the +root of all is in the love and seeking of the painter, who, if of impure +and feeble mind, will cover all that he touches with clay staining, as +Bandinelli puts a foul scent of human flesh about his marble Christ, and +as many whom I will not here name, among moderns; but if of mighty mind +or pure, may pass through all places of foulness, and none will stay +upon him, as Michael Angelo, or he will baptize all things and wash them +with pure water, as our own Stothard. Now, so far as this power is +dependent on the seeking of the artist, and is only to be seen in the +work of good and spiritually-minded men, it is vain to attempt to teach +or illustrate it, neither is it here the place to take note of the way +in which it belongs to the representation of the mental image of things, +instead of things themselves, of which we are to speak in treating of +the imagination; but thus much may here be noted of broad, practical +principle, that the purity of flesh painting depends in very +considerable measure on the intensity and warmth of its color. For if it +be opaque, and clay cold, and colorless, and devoid of all the radiance +and value of flesh, the lines of its true beauty, being severe and firm, +will become so hard in the loss of the glow and gradation by which +nature illustrates them, that the painter will be compelled to sacrifice +them for a luscious fulness and roundness, in order to give the +conception of flesh; which, being done, destroys ideality of form as of +color, and gives all over to lasciviousness of surface; showing also +that the painter sought for this, and this only, since otherwise he had +not taken a subject in which he knew himself compelled to surrender all +sources of dignity. Whereas, right splendor of color both bears out a +nobler severity of form, and is in itself purifying and cleansing, like +fire, furnishing also to the painter an excuse for the choice of his +subject, seeing that he may be supposed as not having painted it but in +the admiration of its abstract glory of color and form, and with no +unworthy seeking. But the mere power of perfect and glowing color will +in some sort redeem even a debased tendency of mind itself, as eminently +the case with Titian, who, though of little feeling, and often treating +base subjects, or elevated subjects basely, as in the disgusting +Magdalen of the Pitti palace, and that of the Barberigo at Venice, yet +redeems all by his glory of hue, so that he cannot paint altogether +coarsely; and with Giorgione, who had nobler and more serious intellect, +the sense of nudity is utterly lost, and there is no need nor desire of +concealment any more, but his naked figures move among the trees like +fiery pillars, and lie on the grass like flakes of sunshine.[41] With +the religious painters on the other hand, such nudity as they were +compelled to treat is redeemed as much by severity of form and hardness +of line as by color, so that generally their draped figures are +preferable, as in the Francia of our own gallery. But these, with +Michael Angelo and the Venetians, except Titian, form a great group, +pure in sight and aim, between which and all other schools by which the +nude has been treated, there is a gulf fixed, and all the rest, compared +with them, seem striving how best to illustrate that of Spenser. + + "Of all God's works, which doe this worlde adorn, + There is no one more faire, and excellent + Than is man's body both for power and forme + Whiles it is kept in sober government. + But none than it more foul and indecent + Distempered through misrule and passions bace." + + +Sec. 25. Degrees of descent in this respect: Rubens, Correggio, and Guido. + +Sec. 26. And modern art. + +Of these last, however, with whom ideality is lost, there are some +worthier than others, according to that measure of color they reach, and +power they possess, whence much may be forgiven to Rubens, (as to our +own Etty,) less, as I think, to Correggio, who with less apparent and +evident coarseness has more of inherent sensuality, wrought out with +attractive and luscious refinement, and that alike in all subjects, as +in the Madonna of the Incoronazione, over the high altar of San Giovanni +at Parma, of which the head and upper portion of the figure, now +preserved in the library, might serve as a model of attitude and +expression to a ballet figurante:[42] and again in the lascivious St. +Catherine of the Giorno, and in the Charioted Diana, (both at Parma,) +not to name any of his works of aim more definitely evil. Beneath which +again will fall the works devoid alike of art and decency, as that +Susannah of Guido, in our own gallery, and so we may descend to the +absolute clay of the moderns, only noticing in all how much of what is +evil and base in subject or tendency, is redeemed by what is pure and +right in hue, so that I do not assert that the purpose and object of +many of the grander painters of the nude, as Titian for instance, was +always elevated, but only that we, who cannot paint the lamp of fire +within the earthen pitcher, must take other weapons in our left hands. +And it is to be noted, also, that in climates where the body can be more +openly and frequently visited by sun and weather, the nude both comes to +be regarded in a way more grand and pure, as necessarily awakening no +ideas of base kind, (as pre-eminently with the Greeks,) and also from +that exposure receives a firmness and sunny elasticity very different +from the silky softness of the clothed nations of the north, where every +model necessarily looks as if accidentally undressed; and hence from the +very fear and doubt with which we approach the nude, it becomes +expressive of evil, and for that daring frankness of the old men, which +seldom missed of human grandeur, even when it failed of holy feeling, we +have substituted a mean, carpeted, gauze-veiled, mincing sensuality of +curls and crisping pins, out of which I believe nothing can come but +moral enervation and mental paralysis. + + +Sec. 27. Thirdly, ferocity and fear. The latter how to be distinguished + from awe. + +Sec. 28. Holy fear, how distinct from human terror. + +Sec. 29. Ferocity is joined always with fear. Its unpardonableness. + +Respecting those two other vices of the human face, the expressions of +fear and ferocity, there is less to be noted, as they only occasionally +enter into the conception of character; only it is most necessary to +make careful distinction between the conception of power, +destructiveness, or majesty, in matter, influence, or agent, and the +actual fear of any of these, for it is possible to conceive of +terribleness, without being in a position obnoxious to the danger of it, +and so without fear, and the feeling arising from this contemplation of +dreadfulness, ourselves being in safety, as of a stormy sea from the +shore, is properly termed awe, and is a most noble passion; whereas fear +mortal and extreme, may be felt respecting things ignoble, as the +falling from a window, and without any conception of terribleness or +majesty in the thing, or the accident dreaded; and even when fear is +felt respecting things sublime, as thunder, or storm of battle, yet the +tendency of it is to destroy all power of contemplation of their +majesty, and to freeze and shrink all the intellect into a shaking heap +of clay, for absolute acute fear is of the same unworthiness and +contempt from whatever source it arise, and degrades the mind and the +outward bearing of the body alike, even though it be among hail of +heaven and fire running along the ground. And so among the children of +God, while there is always that fearful and bowed apprehension of his +majesty, and that sacred dread of all offence to him, which is called +the fear of God, yet of real and essential fear there is not any but +clinging of confidence to him, as their Rock, Fortress, and Deliverer, +and perfect love, and casting out of fear, so that it is not possible +that while the mind is rightly bent on him, there should be dread of +anything either earthly or supernatural, and the more dreadful seems the +height of his majesty, the less fear they feel that dwell in the shadow +of it, ("Of whom shall I be afraid?") so that they are as David was, +devoted to his fear; whereas, on the other hand, those who, if they may +help it, never conceive of God, but thrust away all thought and memory +of him, and in his real terribleness and omnipresence fear him not nor +know him, yet are of real, acute, piercing, and ignoble fear, haunted +for evermore; fear inconceiving and desperate that calls to the rocks, +and hides in the dust; and hence the peculiar baseness of the expression +of terror, a baseness attributed to it in all times, and among all +nations, as of a passion atheistical, brutal, and profane. So also, it +is always joined with ferocity, which is of all passions the least +human; for of sensual desires there is license to men, as necessity; and +of vanity there is intellectual cause, so that when seen in a brute it +is pleasant and a sign of good wit; and of fear there is at times +necessity and excuse, as being allowed for prevention of harm; but of +ferocity there is no excuse nor palliation, but it is pure essence of +tiger and demon, and it casts on the human face the paleness alike of +the horse of Death, and the ashes of hell. + + +Sec. 30. Such expressions how sought by painters powerless and impious. + +Wherefore, of all subjects that can be admitted to sight, the +expressions of fear and ferocity are the most foul and detestable, and +so there is in them I know not what sympathetic attractiveness for minds +cowardly and base, as the vulgar of most nations, and forasmuch as they +are easily rendered by men who can render nothing else, they are often +trusted in by the herd of painters incapable and profane, as in that +monstrous abortion of the first room of the Louvre, called the Deluge, +whose subject is pure, acute, mortal fear; and so generally the +senseless horrors of the modern French schools, spawn of the guillotine: +also there is not a greater test of grandeur or meanness of mind than +the expressions it will seek for and develop in the features and forms +of men in fierce strife, whether determination and devotion, and all the +other attributes of that unselfishness which constitutes heroism, as in +the warrior of Agasias; and distress not agitated nor unworthy, though +mortal, as in the Dying Gladiator, or brutal ferocity and butchered +agony, of which the lowest and least palliated examples are those +battles of Salvator Rosa, which none but a man, base-born and +thief-bred, could have dwelt upon for an instant without sickening, of +which I will only name that example in the Pitti palace, wherein the +chief figure in the foreground is a man with his arm cut off at the +shoulder, run through the other hand into the breast with a lance.[43] +And manifold instances of the same feeling are to be found in the +repainting of the various representations of the Inferno, so common +through Italy, more especially that of Orcagna's in the Campo Santo, +wherein the few figures near the top that yet remain untouched are grand +in their severe drawing and expressions of enduring despair, while those +below, repainted by Solazzino, depend for their expressiveness upon +torrents of blood; so in the Inferno of Santa Maria Novella, and of the +Arena chapel, not to speak of the horrible images of the Passion, by +which vulgar Romanism has always striven to excite the languid +sympathies of its untaught flocks. Of which foulness let us reason no +farther, the very image and memory of them being pollution, only +noticing this, that there has always been a morbid tendency in Romanism +towards the contemplation of bodily pain, owing to the attribution of +saving power to it, which, like every other moral error, has been of +fatal effect in art, leaving not altogether without the stain and blame +of it, even the highest of the pure Romanist painters; as Fra Angelico, +for instance, who, in his Passion subjects, always insists weakly on the +bodily torture, and is unsparing of blood; and Giotto, though his +treatment is usually grander, as in that Crucifixion over the door of +the Convent of St. Mark's, where the blood is hardly actual, but issues +from the feet in a typical and conventional form, and becomes a crimson +cord which is twined strangely beneath about a skull; only that which +these holy men did to enhance, even though in their means mistaken, the +impression and power of the sufferings of Christ, or of his saints, is +always in a measure noble, and to be distinguished with all reverence +from the abominations of the irreligious painters following, as of +Camillo Procaccini, in one of his martyrdoms in the Gallery of the +Brera, at Milan, and other such, whose names may be well spared to the +reader. + + +Sec. 31. Of passion generally. + +Sec. 32. It is never to be for itself exhibited--at least on the face. + +These, then, are the four passions whose presence in any degree on the +human face is degradation. But of all passion it is to be generally +observed, that it becomes ignoble either when entertained respecting +unworthy objects, and therefore shallow or unjustifiable, or when of +impious violence, and so destructive of human dignity. Thus grief is +noble or the reverse, according to the dignity and worthiness of the +object lamented, and the grandeur of the mind enduring it. The sorrow of +mortified vanity or avarice is simply disgusting, even that of bereaved +affection may be base if selfish and unrestrained. All grief that +convulses the features is ignoble, because it is commonly shallow and +certainly temporary, as in children, though in the shock and shiver of a +strong man's features under sudden and violent grief there may be +something of sublime. The grief of Guercino's Hagar, in the Brera +gallery at Milan, is partly despicable, partly disgusting, partly +ridiculous; it is not the grief of the injured Egyptian, driven forth +into the desert with the destiny of a nation in her heart, but of a +servant of all work, turned away for stealing tea and sugar. Common +painters forget that passion is not absolutely and in itself great or +violent, but only in proportion to the weakness of the mind it has to +deal with; and that in exaggerating its outward signs, they are not +exalting the passion, but evaporating the hero.[44] They think too much +of passions as always the same in their nature, forgetting that the love +of Achilles is different from the love of Paris, and of Alcestis from +that of Laodamia. The use and value of passion is not as a subject in +contemplation in itself, but as it breaks up the fountains of the great +deep of the human mind, or displays its mightiness and ribbed majesty, +as mountains are seen in their stability best among the coil of clouds; +whence, in fine, I think it is to be held that all passion which attains +overwhelming power, so that it is not as resisting, but as conquered, +that the creature is contemplated, is unfit for high art, and +destructive of the ideal character of the countenance: and in this +respect, I cannot but hold Raffaelle to have erred in his endeavor to +express passion of such acuteness in the human face; as in the fragment +of the Massacre of the Innocents in our own gallery, (wherein, repainted +though it be, I suppose the purpose of the master is yet to be +understood,) for if such subjects are to be represented at all, their +entire expression may be given without degrading the face, as we shall +presently see done with unspeakable power by Tintoret,[45] and I think +that all subjects of the kind, all human misery, slaughter, famine, +plague, peril, and crime, are better in the main avoided, as of +unprofitable and hardening influence, unless so far as out of the +suffering, hinted rather than expressed, we may raise into nobler relief +the eternal enduring of fortitude and affection, of mercy and +self-devotion, or when, as by the threshing-floor of Ornan, and by the +cave of Lazarus, the angel of the Lord is to be seen in the +chastisement, and his love to be manifested to the despair of men. + + +Sec. 33. Recapitulation + +Thus, then, we have in some sort enumerated those evil signs which are +most necessary to be shunned in the seeking of ideal beauty,[46] though +it is not the knowledge of them, but the dread and hatred of them, which +will effectually aid the painter; as on the other hand it is not by mere +admission of the loveliness of good and holy expression that its subtile +characters are to be traced. Raffaelle himself, questioned on this +subject, made doubtful answer; he probably could not trace through what +early teaching, or by what dies of emotion the image had been sealed +upon his heart. Our own Bacon, who well saw the impossibility of +reaching it by the combination of many separate beauties, yet explains +not the nature of that "kind of felicity" to which he attributes +success. I suppose those who have conceived and wrought the loveliest +things, have done so by no theorizing, but in simple labor of love, and +could not, if put to a bar of rationalism, defend all points of what +they had done, but painted it in their own delight, and to the delight +of all besides, only always with that respect of conscience and "fear of +swerving from that which is right, which maketh diligent observers of +circumstances the loose regard whereof is the nurse of vulgar folly, no +less than Solomon's attention thereunto was of natural furtherances the +most effectual to make him eminent above others, for he gave good heed, +and pierced everything to the very ground."[47] + +With which good heed, and watching of the instants when men feel warmly +and rightly, as the Indians do for the diamond in their washing of sand, +and that with the desire and hope of finding true good in men, and not +with the ready vanity that sets itself to fiction instantly, and carries +its potter's wheel about with it always, (off which there will come only +clay vessels of regular shape after all,) instead of the pure +mirror that can show the seraph standing by the human body--standing as +signal to the heavenly land:[48] with this heed and this charity, there +are none of us that may not bring down that lamp upon his path of which +Spenser sang:-- + + "That beauty is not, as fond men misdeem + An outward show of things, that only seem; + But that fair lamp, from whose celestial ray + That light proceeds, which kindleth lover's fire, + Shall never be extinguished nor decay. + But when the vital spirits do expire, + Unto her native planet shall retire, + For it is heavenly born and cannot die, + Being a parcel of the purest sky." + + +FOOTNOTES + + [38] Rev. vii. 2. + + [39] Compare Part II. Sec. I. Chap. III Sec. 6. + + [40] De la Poesie Chretienne. Forme de l'Art. Chap. VIII. + + [41] As in the noble Louvre picture. + + [42] The Madonna turns her back to Christ, and bends her head over + her shoulder to receive the crown, the arms being folded with + studied grace over the bosom. + + [43] Compare Michelet, (Du Pretre, de la Femme, de la Famille,) + Chap. III. note. He uses language too violent to be quoted; but + excuses Salvator by reference to the savage character of the Thirty + Years' War. That this excuse has no validity may be proved by + comparing the painter's treatment of other subjects. See Sec. II. + Chap. III. Sec. 19, note. + + [44] "The fire, that mounts the liquor, till it run o'er + In seeming to augment it, wastes it." + + HENRY VIII. + + [45] Sect. II. Chap. III. Sec. 22. + + [46] Let it be observed that it is always of beauty, not of human + character in its lower and criminal modifications, that we have been + speaking. That variety of character, therefore, which we have + affirmed to be necessary, is the variety of Giotto and Angelico, not + of Hogarth. Works concerned with the exhibition of general + character, are to be spoken of in the consideration of Ideas of + Relation. + + [47] Hooker, Book V. Chap. I. Sec. 2. + + [48] "Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, + And by the holy rood, + A man all light, a seraph man + By every corse there stood. + This seraph band, each waved his hand, + It was a heavenly sight; + They stood as signals to the land, + Each one a lovely light." + + ANCIENT MARINER + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + GENERAL CONCLUSIONS RESPECTING THE THEORETIC FACULTY. + + +Sec. 1. There are no sources of the emotion of beauty more than those found + in things visible. + +Sec. 2. What imperfection exists in visible things. How in a sort by + imagination removable. + +Sec. 3. Which however affects not our present conclusions. + +Of the sources of beauty open to us in the visible world, we have now +obtained a view which, though most feeble in its grasp and scanty in its +detail, is yet general in its range. Of no other sources than these +visible can we, by any effort in our present condition of existence, +conceive. For what revelations have been made to humanity inspired, or +caught up to heaven of things to the heavenly region belonging, have +been either by unspeakable words which it is not lawful for a man to +utter, or else by their very nature incommunicable, except in types and +shadows; and ineffable by words belonging to earth, for of things +different from the visible, words appropriated to the visible can convey +no image. How different from earthly gold that clear pavement of the +city might have seemed to the eyes of St. John, we of unreceived sight +cannot know; neither of that strange jasper and sardine can we conceive +the likeness which he assumed that sat on the throne above the crystal +sea; neither what seeming that was of slaying that the Root of David +bore in the midst of the elders; neither what change it was upon the +form of the fourth of them that walked in the furnace of Dura, that even +the wrath of idolatry knew for the likeness of the Son of God. The +knowing that is here permitted to us is either of things outward only, +as in those it is whose eyes faith never opened, or else of that dark +part that her glass shows feebly, of things supernatural, that gleaming +of the Divine form among the mortal crowd, which all may catch if they +will climb the sycamore and wait; nor how much of God's abiding at the +house may be granted to those that so seek, and how much more may be +opened to them in the breaking of bread, cannot be said; but of that +only we can reason which is in a measure revealed to all, of that which +is by constancy and purity of affection to be found in the things and +the beings around us upon earth. Now among all those things whose beauty +we have hitherto examined, there has been a measure of imperfection. +Either inferiority of kind, as the beauty of the lower animals, or +resulting from degradation, as in man himself; and although in +considering the beauty of human form, we arrived at some conception of +restoration, yet we found that even the restoration must be in some +respect imperfect, as incapable of embracing all qualities, moral and +intellectual, at once, neither to be freed from all signs of former evil +done or suffered. Consummate beauty, therefore, is not to be found on +earth, though often such intense measure of it as shall drown all +capacity of receiving; neither is it to be respecting humanity +legitimately conceived. But by certain operations of the imagination +upon ideas of beauty received from things around us, it is possible to +conceive respecting superhuman creatures (of that which is more than +creature, no creature ever conceived) a beauty in some sort greater than +we see. Of this beauty, however, it is impossible to determine anything +until we have traced the imaginative operations to which it owes its +being, of which operations this much may be prematurely said, that they +are not creative, that no new ideas are elicited by them, and that their +whole function is only a certain dealing with, concentrating or mode of +regarding the impressions received from external things, that therefore, +in the beauty to which they will conduct us, there will be found no new +element, but only a peculiar combination or phase of those elements that +we now know, and that therefore we may at present draw all the +conclusions with respect to the rank of the theoretic faculty, which the +knowledge of its subject matter can warrant. + + +Sec. 4. The four sources from which the pleasure of beauty is derived are + all divine. + +We have seen that this subject matter is referable to four general +heads. It is either the record of conscience, printed in things +external, or it is a symbolizing of Divine attributes in matter, or it +is the felicity of living things, or the perfect fulfilment of their +duties and functions. In all cases it is something Divine, either the +approving voice of God, the glorious symbol of him, the evidence of his +kind presence, or the obedience to his will by him induced and +supported. + +All these subjects of contemplation are such as we may suppose will +remain sources of pleasure to the perfected spirit throughout eternity. +Divine in their nature, they are addressed to the immortal part of men. + + +Sec. 5. What objections may be made to this conclusion. + +There remain, however, two points to be noticed before I can hope that +this conclusion will be frankly accepted by the reader. If it be the +moral part of us to which beauty addresses itself, how does it happen, +it will be asked, that it is ever found in the works of impious men, and +how is it possible for such to desire or conceive it? + +On the other hand, how does it happen that men in high state of moral +culture are often insensible to the influence of material beauty, and +insist feebly upon it as an instrument of soul culture. + +These two objections I shall endeavor briefly to answer, not that they +can be satisfactorily treated without that detailed examination of the +whole body of great works of art, on which I purpose to enter in the +following volume. For the right determination of these two questions is +indeed the whole end and aim of my labor, (and if it could be here +accomplished, I should bestow no effort farther,) namely, the proving +that no supreme power of art can be attained by impious men; and that +the neglect of art, as an interpreter of divine things, has been of evil +consequence to the Christian world. + +At present, however, I would only meet such objections as must +immediately arise in the reader's mind. + + +Sec. 6. Typical beauty may be aesthetically pursued. Instances. + +Sec. 7. How interrupted by false feeling. + +And first, it will be remembered that I have, throughout the examination +of typical beauty, asserted its instinctive power, the moral meaning of +it being only discoverable by faithful thought. Now this instinctive +sense of it varies in intensity among men, being given, like the hearing +ear of music, to some more than to others: and if those to whom it is +given in large measure be unfortunately men of impious or unreflecting +spirit, it is very possible that the perceptions of beauty should be by +them cultivated on principles merely aesthetic, and so lose their +hallowing power; for though the good seed in them is altogether divine, +yet, there being no blessing in the springing thereof, it brings forth +wild grapes in the end. And yet these wild grapes are well discernible, +like the deadly gourds of Gilgal. There is in all works of such men a +taint and stain, and jarring discord, blacker and louder exactly in +proportion to the moral deficiency, of which the best proof and measure +is to be found in their treatment of the human form, (since in landscape +it is nearly impossible to introduce definite expression of evil,) of +which the highest beauty has been attained only once, and then by no +system taught painter, but by a most holy Dominican monk of Fiesole; and +beneath him all stoop lower and lower in proportion to their inferior +sanctity, though with more or less attainment of that which is noble, +according to their intellectual power and earnestness, as Raffaelle in +his St. Cecilia, (a mere study of a passionate, dark-eyed, large formed +Italian model,) and even Perugino, in that there is about his noblest +faces a shortcoming, indefinable; an absence of the full outpouring of +the sacred spirit that there is in Angelico; traceable, I doubt not, to +some deficiencies and avaricious flaws of his heart, whose consequences +in his conduct were such as to give Vasari hope that his lies might +stick to him (for the contradiction of which in the main, if there be +not contradiction enough in every line that the hand of Perugino drew, +compare Rio, de la Poesie Chretienne, and note also what Rio has +singularly missed observing, that Perugino, in his portrait of himself +in the Florence gallery, has put a scroll into the hand, with the words +"Timete Deum," thus surely indicating that which he considered his duty +and message:) and so all other even of the sacred painters, not to speak +of the lower body of men in whom, on the one hand, there is marked +sensuality and impurity in all that they seek of beauty, as in +Correggio and Guido, or, on the other, a want in measure of the sense of +beauty itself, as in Rubens and Titian, showing itself in the adoption +of coarse types of feature and form; sometimes also (of which I could +find instances in modern times,) in a want of evidence of delight in +what they do; so that, after they have rendered some passage of +exceeding beauty, they will suffer some discordant point to interfere +with it, and it will not hurt them, as if they had no pleasure in that +which was best, but had done it in inspiration that was not profitable +to them, as deaf men might touch an instrument with a feeling in their +heart, which yet returns not outwardly upon them, and so know not when +they play false: and sometimes by total want of choice, for there is a +choice of love in all rightly tempered men, not that ignorant and +insolent choice which rejects half nature as empty of the right, but +that pure choice that fetches the right out of everything; and where +this is wanting, we may see men walking up and down in dry places, +finding no rest, ever and anon doing something noble, and yet not +following it up, but dwelling the next instant on something impure or +profitless with the same intensity and yet impatience, so that they are +ever wondered at and never sympathized with, and while they dazzle all, +they lead none; and then, beneath these again, we find others on whose +works there are definite signs of evil mind, ill-repressed, and then +inability to avoid, and at last perpetual seeking for and feeding upon +horror and ugliness, and filthiness of sin, as eminently in Salvator and +Caravaggio, and the lower Dutch schools, only in these last less +painfully as they lose the villanous in the brutal, and the horror of +crime in its idiocy. + + +Sec. 8. Greatness and truth are sometimes by the Deity sustained and spoken + in and through evil men. + +But secondly, it is to be noted that it is neither by us uncertainable +what moments of pure feeling or aspiration may occur to men of minds +apparently cold and lost, nor by us to be pronounced through what +instruments, and in what strangely occurrent voices, God may choose to +communicate good to men. It seems to me that much of what is great, and +to all men beneficial, has been wrought by those who neither intended +nor knew the good they did, and that many mighty harmonies have been +discoursed by instruments that had been dumb or discordant, but that +God knew their stops. The Spirit of Prophecy consisted with the avarice +of Balaam, and the disobedience of Saul. Could we spare from its page +that parable, which he said, who saw the vision of the Almighty, falling +into a trance, but having his eyes open, though we know that the sword +of his punishment was then sharp in its sheath beneath him in the plains +of Moab? or shall we not lament with David over the shield cast away on +the Gilboa mountains, of him to whom God gave _another heart_ that day +when he turned his back to go from Samuel? It is not our part to look +hardly, nor to look always, to the character or the deeds of men, but to +accept from all of them, and to hold fast that which we can prove good, +and feel to be ordained for us. We know that whatever good there is in +them is itself divine, and wherever we see the virtue of ardent labor +and self-surrendering to a single purpose, wherever we find constant +reference made to the written scripture of natural beauty, this at least +we know is great and good, this we know is not granted by the counsel of +God, without purpose, nor maintained without result: Their +interpretation we may accept, into their labor we may enter, but they +themselves must look to it, if what they do has no intent of good, nor +any reference to the Giver of all gifts. Selfish in their industry, +unchastened in their wills, ungrateful for the Spirit that is upon them, +they may yet be helmed by that Spirit whithersoever the Governor +listeth; involuntary instruments they may become of others' good; +unwillingly they may bless Israel, doubtingly discomfit Amalek, but +shortcoming there will be of their glory, and sure, of their punishment. + + +Sec. 9. The second objection arising from the coldness of Christian men to + external beauty. + +I believe I shall be able, incidentally, in succeeding investigations, +to prove this shortcoming, and to examine the sources of it, not +absolutely indeed, (seeing that all reasoning on the characters of men +must be treacherous, our knowledge on this head being as corrupt as it +is scanty, while even in living with them it is impossible to trace the +working, or estimate the errors of great and self-secreted minds,) but +at least enough to establish the general principle upon such grounds of +fact as may satisfy those who demand the practical proof (often in a +measure impossible) of things which can hardly be doubted in their +rational consequence. At present, it would be useless to enter on an +examination for which we have no materials; and I proceed, therefore, to +notice that other and opposite error of Christian men in thinking that +there is little use or value in the operation of the theoretic faculty, +not that I at present either feel myself capable, or that this is the +place for the discussion of that vast question of the operation of taste +(as it is called) on the minds of men, and the national value of its +teaching, but I wish shortly to reply to that objection which might be +urged to the real moral dignity of the faculty, that many Christian men +seem to be in themselves without it, and even to discountenance it in +others. + +It has been said by Schiller, in his letters on aesthetic culture, that +the sense of beauty never farthered the performance of a single duty. + + +Sec. 10. Reasons for this coldness in the anxieties of the world. These + anxieties overwrought and criminal. + +Sec. 11. Evil consequences of such coldness. + +Sec. 12. Theoria the service of Heaven. + +Although this gross and inconceivable falsity will hardly be accepted by +any one in so many terms, seeing that there are few so utterly lost but +that they receive, and know that they receive, at certain moments, +strength of some kind, or rebuke from the appealings of outward things; +and that it is not possible for a Christian man to walk across so much +as a rood of the natural earth, with mind unagitated and rightly poised, +without receiving strength and hope from some stone, flower, leaf, or +sound, nor without a sense of a dew falling upon him out of the sky; +though, I say, this falsity is not wholly and in terms admitted, yet it +seems to be partly and practically so in much of the doing and teaching +even of holy men, who in the recommending of the love of God to us, +refer but seldom to those things in which it is most abundantly and +immediately shown; though they insist much on his giving of bread, and +raiment, and health, (which he gives to all inferior creatures,) they +require us not to thank him for that glory of his works which he has +permitted us alone to perceive: they tell us often to meditate in the +closet, but they send us not, like Isaac, into the fields at even, they +dwell on the duty of self-denial, but they exhibit not the duty of +delight. Now there are reasons for this, manifold, in the toil and +warfare of an earnest mind, which, in its efforts at the raising of men +from utter loss and misery, has often but little time or disposition to +take heed of anything more than the bare life, and of those so occupied +it is not for us to judge, but I think, that, of the weaknesses, +distresses, vanities, schisms, and sins, which often even in the holiest +men, diminish their usefulness, and mar their happiness, there would be +fewer if, in their struggle with nature fallen, they sought for more aid +from nature undestroyed. It seems to me that the real sources of +bluntness in the feelings towards the splendor of the grass and glory of +the flower, are less to be found in ardor of occupation, in seriousness +of compassion, or heavenliness of desire, than in the turning of the eye +at intervals of rest too selfishly within; the want of power to shake +off the anxieties of actual and near interest, and to leave results in +God's hands; the scorn of all that does not seem immediately apt for our +purposes, or open to our understanding, and perhaps something of pride, +which desires rather to investigate than to feel. I believe that the +root of almost every schism and heresy from which the Christian church +has ever suffered, has been the effort of men to earn, rather than to +receive, their salvation; and that the reason that preaching is so +commonly ineffectual is, that it calls on men oftener to work for God, +than to behold God working for them. If, for every rebuke that we utter +of men's vices, we put forth a claim upon their hearts; if for every +assertion of God's demands from them, we could substitute a display of +his kindness to them; if side by side with every warning of death, we +could exhibit proofs and promises of immortality; if, in fine, instead +of assuming the being of an awful Deity, which men, though they cannot +and dare not deny, are always unwilling, sometimes unable, to conceive, +we were to show them a near, visible, inevitable, but all beneficent +Deity, whose presence makes the earth itself a heaven, I think there +would be fewer deaf children sitting in the market-place. At all events, +whatever may be the inability in this present life to mingle the full +enjoyment of the Divine works with the full discharge of every practical +duty, and confessedly in many cases this must be, let us not attribute +the inconsistency to any indignity of the faculty of contemplation, but +to the sin and the suffering of the fallen state, and the change of +order from the keeping of the garden to the tilling of the ground. We +cannot say how far it is right or agreeable with God's will, while men +are perishing round about us, while grief, and pain, and wrath, and +impiety, and death, and all the powers of the air, are working wildly +and evermore, and the cry of blood going up to heaven, that any of us +should take hand from the plough; but this we know, that there will come +a time when the service of God shall be the beholding of him; and +though in these stormy seas, where we are now driven up and down, his +Spirit is dimly seen on the face of the waters, and we are left to cast +anchors out of the stern, and wish for the day, that day will come, +when, with the evangelists on the crystal and stable sea, all the +creatures of God shall be full of eyes within, and there shall be "no +more curse, but his servants shall serve him, and shall see his face." + + + + + SECTION II. + + OF THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + OF THE THREE FORMS OF IMAGINATION. + + +Sec. 1. A partial examination only of the imagination is to be attempted. + +We have hitherto been exclusively occupied with those sources of +pleasure which exist in the external creation, and which in any faithful +copy of it must to a certain extent exist also. + +These sources of beauty, however, are not presented by any very great +work of art in a form of pure transcript. They invariably receive the +reflection of the mind under whose shadow they have passed, and are +modified or colored by its image. + +This modification is the Work of Imagination. + +As, in the course of our succeeding investigation, we shall be called +upon constantly to compare sources of beauty existing in nature with the +images of them presented by the human mind, it is very necessary for us +shortly to review the conditions and limits of the imaginative faculty, +and to ascertain by what tests we may distinguish its sane, healthy, and +profitable operation, from that which is erratic, diseased, and +dangerous. + +It is neither desirable nor possible here to examine or illustrate in +full the essence of this mighty faculty. Such an examination would +require a review of the whole field of literature, and would alone +demand a volume. Our present task is not to explain or exhibit full +portraiture of this function of the mind in all its relations, but only +to obtain some certain tests by which we may determine whether it be +very imagination or no, and unmask all impersonations of it, and this +chiefly with respect to art, for in literature the faculty takes a +thousand forms, according to the matter it has to treat, and becomes +like the princess of the Arabian tale, sword, eagle, or fire, according +to the war it wages, sometimes piercing, sometimes soaring, sometimes +illumining, retaining no image of itself, except its supernatural power, +so that I shall content myself with tracing that particular form of it, +and unveiling those imitations of it only, which are to be found, or +feared, in painting, referring to other creations of mind only for +illustration. + + +Sec. 2. The works of the metaphysicians how nugatory with respect to this + faculty. + +Unfortunately, the works of metaphysicians will afford us in this most +interesting inquiry no aid whatsoever. They who are constantly +endeavoring to fathom and explain the essence of the faculties of mind, +are sure in the end to lose sight of all that cannot be explained, +(though it may be defined and felt,) and because, as I shall presently +show, the essence of the imaginative faculty is utterly mysterious and +inexplicable, and to be recognized in its results only, or in the +negative results of its absence, the metaphysicians, as far as I am +acquainted with their works, miss it altogether, and never reach higher +than a definition of fancy by a false name. + +What I understand by fancy will presently appear, not that I contend for +nomenclature, but only for distinction between two mental faculties, by +whatever name they be called, one the source of all that is great in the +poetic arts; the other merely decorative and entertaining, but which are +often confounded together, and which have so much in common as to render +strict definition of either difficult. + + +Sec. 3. The definition of D. Stewart, how inadequate. + +Dugald Stewart's meagre definition may serve us for a starting point. +"Imagination," he says, "includes conception or simple apprehension, +which enables us to form a notion of those former objects of perception +or of knowledge, out of which we are to make a selection; abstraction, +which separates the selected materials from the qualities and +circumstances which are connected with them in nature; and judgment or +taste, which selects the materials and directs their combination. To +these powers we may add that particular habit of association to which I +formerly gave the name of fancy, as it is this which presents to our +choice all the different materials which are subservient to the efforts +of imagination, and which may therefore be considered as forming the +ground-work of poetical genius." + +(By fancy in this passage, we find on referring to the chapter treating +of it, that nothing more is meant than the rapid occurrence of ideas of +sense to the mind.) + +Now, in this definition, the very point and purpose of all the inquiry +is missed. We are told that judgment or taste "directs the combination." +In order that anything may be directed, an end must be previously +determined: What is the faculty that determines this end? and of what +frame and make, how boned and fleshed, how conceived or seen, is the end +itself? Bare judgment, or taste, cannot approve of what has no +existence; and yet by Dugald Stewart's definition we are left to their +catering among a host of conceptions, to produce a combination which, as +they work for, they must see and approve before it exists. This power of +prophecy is the very essence of the whole matter, and it is just that +inexplicable part which the metaphysician misses. + + +Sec. 4. This instance nugatory. + +As might be expected from his misunderstanding of the faculty, he has +given an instance entirely nugatory.[49] It would be difficult to find +in Milton a passage in which less power of imagination was shown, than +the description of Eden, if, as I suppose, this be the passage meant, at +the beginning of the fourth book, in which I can find three expressions +only in which this power is shown, the "_burnished_ with golden rind, +hung amiable" of the Hesperian fruit, the "_lays forth_ her purple +grape" of the vine and the "_fringed_ bank with myrtle crowned," of the +lake, and these are not what Stewart meant, but only that accumulation +of bowers, groves, lawns, and hillocks, which is not imagination at all, +but composition, and that of the commonest kind. Hence, if we take any +passage in which there is real imagination, we shall find Stewart's +hypothesis not only inefficient and obscure, but utterly inapplicable. + + +Sec. 5. Various instances. + +Take one or two at random. + + "On the other side, + Incensed with indignation, Satan stood + Unterrified, and like a comet burned + That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge + In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair + Shakes pestilence and war." + +(Note that the word incensed is to be taken in its literal and material +sense, set on fire.) What taste or judgment was it that directed this +combination? or is there nothing more than taste or judgment here? + + "Ten paces huge + He back recoiled; the tenth on bended knee + His massy spear upstaid, as if on earth + Winds under ground, or waters forcing way + _Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat + Half-sunk with all his pines._ + + "Together both ere the high lawns appeared + _Under the opening eyelids_ of the morn, + We drove a field, and both together heard + What time the gray-fly winds her _sultry_ horn. + + "Missing thee, I walk unseen + On the dry smooth shaven green. + To behold the wandering moon + Riding near her highest noon, + _Like one that had been led astray_, + Through the heavens' wide pathless way, + And oft _as if her head she bowed_ + Stooping through a fleecy cloud." + +It is evident that Stewart's explanation utterly fails in all these +instances, for there is in them no "combination" whatsoever, but a +particular mode of regarding the qualities or appearances of a single +thing, illustrated and conveyed to us by the image of another; and the +act of imagination, observe, is not the selection of this image, but the +mode of regarding the object. + +But the metaphysician's definition fails yet more utterly, when we look +at the imagination neither as regarding, nor combining, but as +penetrating. + + "My gracious Silence, Hail: + Wouldst thou have laughed, had I come coffin'd home + That weep'st to see me triumph. Ah! my dear, + Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, + And mothers that lack sons." + +How did Shakspeare _know_ that Virgilia could not speak? + +This knowledge, this intuitive and penetrative perception, is still one +of the forms, the highest, of imagination, but there is no combination +of images here. + + +Sec. 6. The three operations of the imagination. Penetrative, associative, + contemplative. + +We find, then, that the imagination has three totally distinct +functions. It combines, and by combination creates new forms; but the +secret principle of this combination has not been shown by the analysts. +Again, it treats or regards both the simple images and its own +combinations in peculiar ways; and, thirdly, it penetrates, analyzes, +and reaches truths by no other faculty discoverable. These its three +functions, I shall endeavor to illustrate, but not in this order: the +most logical mode of treatment would be to follow the order in which +commonly the mind works; that is, penetrating first, combining next, and +treating or regarding, finally; but this arrangement would be +inconvenient, because the acts of penetration and of regard are so +closely connected, and so like in their relations to other mental acts, +that I wish to examine them consecutively, and the rather, because they +have to do with higher subject matter than the mere act of combination, +whose distinctive nature, that property which makes it imagination and +not composition, it will I think be best to explain at setting out, as +we easily may, in subjects familiar and material. I shall therefore +examine the imaginative faculty in these three forms; first, as +combining or associative; secondly, as analytic or penetrative; thirdly, +as regardant or contemplative. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [49] He continues thus, "To illustrate these observations, let us + consider the steps by which Milton must have proceeded, in creating + his imaginary garden of Eden. When he first proposed to himself that + subject of description, it is reasonable to suppose that a variety + of the most striking scenes which he had seen, crowded into his + mind. The association of ideas suggested them and the power of + conception placed each of them before him with all its beauties and + imperfections. In every natural scene, if we destine it for any + particular purpose, there are defects and redundancies, which art + may sometimes, but cannot always correct. But the power of + imagination is unlimited. She can create and annihilate, and dispose + at pleasure her woods, her rocks, and her rivers. Milton, + accordingly, would not copy his Eden from any one scene, but would + select from each the features which were most eminently beautiful. + The power of abstraction enabled him to make the separation, and + taste directed him in the selection." + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + OF IMAGINATION ASSOCIATIVE. + + +Sec. 1. Of simple conception. + +In order to render our inquiry as easy as possible, we shall consider +the dealing of the associative imagination with the simplest possible +matter, that is,--with conceptions of material things. First, therefore, +we must define the nature of these conceptions themselves. + +After beholding and examining any material object, our knowledge +respecting it exists in two different forms. Some facts exist in the +brain in a verbal form, as known, but not conceived, as, for instance, +that it was heavy or light, that it was eight inches and a quarter long, +etc., of which length we cannot have accurate conception, but only such +a conception as might attach to a length of seven inches or nine; and +which fact we may recollect without any conception of the object at all. +Other facts respecting it exist in the brain in a visible form, not +always visible, but voluntarily visible, as its being white, or having +such and such a complicated shape, as the form of a rose-bud, for +instance, which it would be difficult to express verbally, neither is it +retained by the brain in a verbal form, but a visible one, that is, when +we wish for knowledge of its form for immediate use, we summon up a +vision or image of the thing; we do not remember it in words, as we +remember the fact that it took so many days to blow, or that it was +gathered at such and such a time. + +The knowledge of things retained in this visible form is called +conception by the metaphysicians, which term I shall retain; it is +inaccurately called imagination by Taylor, in the passage quoted by +Wordsworth in the preface to his poems, not but that the term +imagination is etymologically and rightly expressive of it, but we want +that term for a higher faculty. + + +Sec. 2. How connected with verbal knowledge. + +There are many questions respecting this faculty of conception of very +great interest, such as the exact amount of aid that verbal knowledge +renders so visible, (as, for instance, the verbal knowledge that a +flower has five, or seven, or ten petals, or that a muscle is inserted +at such and such a point of the bone, aids the conception of the flower +or the limb;) and again, what amount of aid the visible knowledge +renders to the verbal, as for instance, whether any one, being asked a +question about some animal or thing, which instantly and from verbal +knowledge he cannot answer, may have such power of summoning up the +image of the animal or thing as to ascertain the fact, by actual +beholding, (which I do not assert, but can conceive to be possible;) and +again, what is that indefinite and subtile character of the conception +itself in most men, which admits not of being by themselves traced or +realized, and yet is a sure test of likeness in any representation of +the thing; like an intaglio, with a front light on it, whose lines +cannot be seen, and yet they will fit one definite form only, and that +accurately; these and many other questions it is irrelevant at present +to determine,[50] since to forward our present purpose, it will be well +to suppose the conception, aided by verbal knowledge, to be absolutely +perfect, and we will suppose a man to retain such clear image of a large +number of the material things he has seen, as to be able to set down any +of them on paper with perfect fidelity and absolute memory[51] of their +most minute features. + +In thus setting them down on paper, he works, I suppose, exactly as he +would work from nature, only copying the remembered image in his mind, +instead of the real thing. He is, therefore, still nothing more than a +copyist. There is no exercise of imagination in this whatsoever. + + +Sec. 3. How used in composition. + +But over these images, vivid and distinct as nature herself, he has a +command which over nature he has not. He can summon any that he chooses, +and if, therefore, any group of them which he received from nature be +not altogether to his mind, he is at liberty to remove some of the +component images, add others foreign, and re-arrange the whole. + +Let us suppose, for instance, that he has perfect knowledge of the forms +of the Aiguilles Verte and Argentiere, and of the great glacier between +them at the upper extremity of the valley of Chamonix. The forms of the +mountains please him, but the presence of the glacier suits not his +purpose. He removes the glacier, sets the mountains farther apart, and +introduces between them part of the valley of the Rhone. + +This is composition, and is what Dugald Stewart mistook for imagination, +in the kingdom of which noble faculty it has no part nor lot. + + +Sec. 4. Characteristics of composition. + +The essential characters of composition, properly so called, are these. +The mind which desires the new feature summons up before it those images +which it supposes to be of the kind wanted, of these it takes the one +which it supposes to be fittest, and tries it: if it will not answer, it +tries another, until it has obtained such an association as pleases it. + +In this operation, if it be of little sensibility, it regards only the +absolute beauty or value of the images brought before it; and takes that +or those which it thinks fairest or most interesting, without any regard +to their sympathy with those for whose company they are destined. Of +this kind is all vulgar composition; the "Mulino" of Claude, described +in the preface to the first part, being a characteristic example. + +If the mind be of higher feeling, it will look to the sympathy or +contrast of the features, to their likeness or dissimilarity; it will +take, as it thinks best, features resembling or discordant, and if when +it has put them together, it be not satisfied, it will repeat the +process on the features themselves, cutting away one part and putting in +another, so working more and more delicately down to the lowest details, +until by dint of experiment, of repeated trials and shiftings, and +constant reference to principles, (as that two lines must not mimic one +another, that one mass must not be equal to another,) etc., it has +morticed together a satisfactory result. + + +Sec. 5. What powers are implied by it. The first of the three functions of + fancy. + +This process will be more and more rapid and effective, in proportion to +the artist's powers of conception and association, these in their turn +depending on his knowledge and experience. The distinctness of his +powers of conception will give value, point, and truth to every fragment +that he draws from memory. His powers of association, and his knowledge +of nature will pour out before him in greater or less number and +appositeness the images from which to choose. His experience guides him +to quick discernment in the combination, when made, of the parts that +are offensive and require change. + +The most elevated power of mind of all these, is that of association, by +which images apposite or resemblant, or of whatever kind wanted, are +called up quickly and in multitudes. When this power is very brilliant, +it is called fancy, not that this is the only meaning of the word fancy, +but it is the meaning of it in relation to that function of the +imagination which we are here considering; for fancy has three +functions; one subordinate to each of the three functions of the +imagination. + +Great differences of power are manifested among artists in this respect, +some having hosts of distinct images always at their command, and +rapidly discerning resemblance or contrast; others having few images, +and obscure, at their disposal, nor readily governing those they have. + +Where the powers of fancy are very brilliant, the picture becomes highly +interesting; if her images are systematically and rightly combined, and +truthfully rendered, it will become even impressive and instructive; if +wittily and curiously combined, it will be captivating and entertaining. + + +Sec. 6. Imagination not yet manifested. + +But all this time the imagination has not once shown itself. All this +(except the gift of fancy) may be taught, all this is easily +comprehended and analyzed; but imagination is neither to be taught, nor +by any efforts to be attained, nor by any acuteness of discernment +dissected or analyzed. + +We have seen that in composition the mind can only take cognizance of +likeness or dissimilarity, or of abstract beauty among the ideas it +brings together. But neither likeness nor dissimilarity secures harmony. +We saw in the chapter on unity that likeness destroyed harmony or unity +of membership, and that difference did not necessarily secure it, but +only that particular imperfection in each of the harmonizing parts which +can only be supplied by its fellow part. If, therefore, the combination +made is to be harmonious, the artist must induce in each of its +component parts (suppose two only, for simplicity's sake,) such +imperfection as that the other shall put it right. If one of them be +perfect by itself, the other will be an excrescence. Both must be faulty +when separate, and each corrected by the presence of the other. If he +can accomplish this, the result will be beautiful; it will be a whole, +an organized body with dependent members;--he is an inventor. If not, +let his separate features be as beautiful, as apposite, or as resemblant +as they may, they form no whole. They are two members glued together. He +is only a carpenter and joiner. + + +Sec. 7. Imagination is the correlative conception of imperfect component + parts. + +Now, the conceivable imperfections of any single feature are infinite. +It is impossible, therefore, to fix upon a form of imperfection in the +one, and try with this all the forms of imperfection of the other until +one fits; but the two imperfections must be corelatively and +simultaneously conceived. + +This is imagination, properly so called, imagination associative, the +grandest mechanical power that the human intelligence possesses, and one +which will appear more and more marvellous the longer we consider it. By +its operation, two ideas are chosen out of an infinite mass, (for it +evidently matters not whether the imperfections be conceived out of the +infinite number conceivable, or selected out of a number recollected,) +two ideas which are separately wrong, which together shall be right, and +of whose unity, therefore, the idea must be formed at the instant they +are seized, as it is only in that unity that either are good, and +therefore only the _conception of that unity can prompt the preference_. +Now, what is that prophetic action of mind, which, out of an infinite +mass of things that cannot be tried together, seizes, at the same +instant two that are fit for each other, together right; yet each +disagreeable alone. + + +Sec. 8. Material analogy with imagination. + +This operation of mind, so far as I can see, is absolutely +inexplicable, but there is something like it in chemistry. + +"The action of sulphuric acid on metallic zinc affords an instance of +what was once called disposing affinity. Zinc decomposes pure water at +common temperatures with extreme slowness; but as soon as sulphuric acid +is added, decomposition of the water takes place rapidly, though the +acid merely unites with oxide of zinc. The former explanation was, that +the affinity of the acid for oxide of zinc disposed the metal to unite +with oxygen, and thus enabled it to decompose water; that is, the oxide +of zinc was supposed to produce an effect previous to its existence. The +obscurity of this explanation arises from regarding changes as +consecutive, which are in reality simultaneous. There is no succession +in the process, the oxide of zinc is not formed previously to its +combination with the acid, but at the same instant. There is, as it +were, but one chemical change, which consists in the combination at one +and the same moment of zinc with oxygen, and of oxide of zinc with the +acid; and this change occurs because these two affinities, acting +together, overcome the attraction of oxygen and hydrogen for one +another."[52] + +Now, if the imaginative artist will permit us, with all deference, to +represent his combining intelligence under the figure of sulphuric acid; +and if we suppose the fragment of zinc to be embarrassed among +infinitely numerous fragments of diverse metals, and the oxygen +dispersed and mingled among gases countless and indistinguishable, we +shall have an excellent type in material things of the action of the +imagination on the immaterial. Both actions are, I think, inexplicable, +for however simultaneous the chemical changes may be, yet the causing +power is the affinity of the acid for what has no existence. It is +neither to be explained how that affinity operates on atoms uncombined, +nor how the artist's desire for an unconceived whole prompts him to the +selection of necessary divisions. + + +Sec. 9. The grasp and dignity of imagination. + +Now, this operation would be wonderful enough, if it were concerned with +two ideas only. But a powerfully imaginative mind seizes and combines +at the same instant, not only two, but all the important ideas of its +poem or picture, and while it works with any one of them, it is at the +same instant working with and modifying all in their relations to it, +never losing sight of their bearings on each other; as the motion of a +snake's body goes through all parts at once, and its volition acts at +the same instant in coils that go contrary ways. + +This faculty is indeed something that looks as if man were made after +the image of God. It is inconceivable, admirable, altogether divine; and +yet wonderful as it may seem, it is palpably evident that no less an +operation is necessary for the production of any great work, for, by the +definition of unity of membership, (the essential characteristic of +greatness,) not only certain couples or groups of parts, but _all_ the +parts of a noble work must be separately imperfect; each must imply, and +ask for all the rest, and the glory of every one of them must consist in +its relation to the rest, neither while so much as one is wanting can +any be right. And it is evidently impossible to conceive in each +separate feature, a certain want or wrongness which can only be +corrected by the other features of the picture, (not by one or two +merely, but by all,) unless together with the want, we conceive also of +what is wanted, that is of all the rest of the work or picture. Hence +Fuseli:-- + +"Second thoughts are admissible in painting and poetry only as dressers +of the first conception; no great idea was ever formed in fragments." + +"He alone can conceive and compose who sees the whole at once before +him." + + +Sec. 10. Its limits. + +There is, however, a limit to the power of all human imagination. When +the relations to be observed are absolutely necessary, and highly +complicated, the mind cannot grasp them, and the result is a total +deprivation of all power of imagination associative in such matter. For +this reason, no human mind has ever conceived a new animal. For as it is +evident that in an animal, every part implies all the rest; that is, the +form of the eye involves the form of the brow and nose, these the form +of the forehead and lip, these of the head and chin, and so on, so that +it is physically impossible to conceive of any one of these members, +unless we conceive the relation it bears to the whole animal; and as +this relation is necessary, certain, and complicated, allowing of no +license or inaccuracy, the intellect utterly fails under the load, and +is reduced to mere composition, putting the bird's wing on men's +shoulders, or half the human body to half the horse's, in doing which +there is no action of imagination, but only of fancy; though in the +treatment and contemplation of the compound form there may be much +imagination, as we shall presently see. (Chap. III. Sec. 30.) + + +Sec. 11. How manifested in treatment of uncertain relations. Its deficiency + illustrated. + +The matter, therefore, in which associative imagination can be shown is +that which admits of great license and variety of arrangements, and in +which a certain amount of relation only is required; as especially in +the elements of landscape painting, in which best it may be illustrated. + +When an unimaginative painter is about to draw a tree, (and we will +suppose him, for better illustration of the point in question, to have +good feeling and correct knowledge of the nature of trees,) he probably +lays on his paper such a general form as he knows to be characteristic +of the tree to be drawn, and such as he believes will fall in agreeably +with the other masses of his picture, which we will suppose partly +prepared. When this form is set down, he assuredly finds it has done +something he did not intend it to do. It has mimicked some prominent +line, or overpowered some necessary mass. He begins pruning and +changing, and after several experiments, succeeds in obtaining a form +which does no material mischief to any other. To this form he proceeds +to attach a trunk, and having probably a received notion or rule (for +the unimaginative painter never works without a principle) that tree +trunks ought to lean first one way and then the other as they go up, and +ought not to stand under the middle of the tree, he sketches a +serpentine form of requisite propriety; when it has gone up far enough, +that is till it begins to look disagreeably long, he will begin to +ramify it, and if there be another tree in the picture with two large +branches, he knows that this, by all laws of composition, ought to have +three or four, or some different number; one because he knows that if +three or four branches start from the same point they will look formal, +therefore he makes them start from points one above another, and because +equal distances are improper, therefore they shall start at unequal +distances. When they are fairly started, he knows they must undulate or +go backwards and forwards, which accordingly he makes them do at random; +and because he knows that all forms ought to be contrasted, therefore he +makes one bend down while the other three go up. The three that go up he +knows must not go up without interfering with each other, and so he +makes two of them cross. He thinks it also proper that there should be +variety of character in them, so he makes the one that bends down +graceful and flexible, and of the two that cross, he splinters one and +makes a stump of it. He repeats the process among the more complicated +minor boughs, until coming to the smallest, he thinks farther care +unnecessary, but draws them freely, and by chance. Having to put on the +foliage, he will make it flow properly in the direction of the tree's +growth, he will make all the extremities graceful, but will be +grievously plagued by finding them come all alike, and at last will be +obliged to spoil a number of them altogether, in order to obtain +opposition. They will not, however, be united in this their spoliation, +but will remain uncomfortably separate and individually ill-tempered. He +consoles himself by the reflection that it is unnatural for all of them +to be equally perfect. + + +Sec. 12. Laws of art, the safeguard of the unimaginative. + +Now I suppose that through the whole of this process he has been able to +refer to his definite memory or conception of nature for every one of +the fragments he has successively added, that the details, color, +fractures, insertions, etc., of his boughs, are all either actual +recollections or based on secure knowledge of the tree, (and herein I +allow far more than is commonly the case with unimaginative painters.) +But as far as the process of combination is concerned, it is evident +that from beginning to end his laws have been his safety, and his plague +has been his liberty. He has been compelled to work at random, or under +the guidance of feeling only, whenever there was anything left to his +own decision. He has never been decided in anything except in what he +_must_ or _must not_ do. He has walked as a drunken man on a broad road, +his guides are the hedges; and between these limits, the broader the +way, the worse he gets on. + + +Sec. 13. Are by the imaginative painter despised. Tests of imagination. + +The advance of the imaginative artist is precisely the reverse of this. +He has no laws. He defies all restraint, and cuts down all hedges. There +is nothing within the limits of natural possibility that he dares not +do, or that he allows the necessity of doing. The laws of nature he +knows, are to him no restraint. They are his own nature. All other laws +or limits he sets at utter defiance, his journey is over an untrodden +and pathless plain. But he sees his end over the waste from the first, +and goes straight at it, never losing sight of it, nor throwing away a +step. Nothing can stop him, nothing turn him aside; falcons and lynxes +are of slow and uncertain sight compared with his. He saw his tree, +trunk, boughs, foliage and all, from the first moment; not only the tree +but the sky behind it; not only that tree or sky, but all the other +great features of his picture: by what intense power of instantaneous +selection and amalgamation cannot be explained, but by this it may be +proved and tested, that if we examine the tree of the unimaginative +painter, we shall find that on removing any part or parts of it, the +rest will indeed suffer, as being deprived of the proper development of +a tree, and as involving a blank space that wants occupation; but the +portions left are not made discordant or disagreeable. They are +absolutely and in themselves as valuable as they can be, every stem is a +perfect stem, and every twig a graceful twig, or at least as perfect and +as graceful as they were before the removal of the rest. But if we try +the same experiment on the imaginative painter's work, and break off the +merest stem or twig of it, it all goes to pieces like a Prince Rupert's +drop. There is not so much as a seed of it but it lies on the tree's +life, like the grain upon the tongue of Chaucer's sainted child. Take it +away, and the boughs will sing to us no longer. All is dead and cold. + + +Sec. 14. The monotony of unimaginative treatment. + +This then is the first sign of the presence of real imagination as +opposed to composition. But here is another not less important. + + +Sec. 15. Imagination never repeats itself. + +We have seen that as each part is selected and fitted by the +unimaginative painter, he renders it, in itself, as beautiful as he is +able. If it be ugly, it remains so, he is incapable of correcting it by +the addition of another ugliness, and therefore he chooses all his +features as fair as they may be (at least if his object be beauty.) But +a small proportion only of the ideas he has at his disposal will reach +his standard of absolute beauty. The others will be of no use to him, +and among those which he permits himself to use, there will be so marked +a family likeness, that he will be more and more cramped, as his picture +advances, for want of material, and tormented by multiplying +resemblances, unless disguised by some artifice of light and shade or +other forced difference, and with all the differences he can imagine, +his tree will yet show a sameness and sickening repetition in all its +parts, and all his trees will be like one another, except so far as one +leans east and another west, one is broadest at the top and another at +the bottom, while through all this insipid repetition, the means by +which he forces contrast, dark boughs opposed to light, rugged to +smooth, etc., will be painfully evident, to the utter destruction of all +dignity and repose. The imaginative work is necessarily the absolute +opposite of all this. As all its parts are imperfect, and as there is an +unlimited supply of imperfection, (for the ways in which things may be +wrong are infinite,) the imagination is never at a loss, nor ever likely +to repeat itself; nothing comes amiss to it, but whatever rude matter it +receives, it instantly so arranges that it comes right; all things fall +into their place and appear in that place perfect, useful, and evidently +not to be spared, so that of its combinations there is endless variety, +and every intractable and seemingly unavailable fragment that we give to +it, is instantly turned to some brilliant use, and made the nucleus of a +new group of glory; however poor or common the gift, it will be thankful +for it, treasure it up, and pay in gold, and it has that life in it and +fire, that wherever it passes, among the dead bones and dust of things, +behold a shaking, and the bones come together, bone to his bone. + + +Sec. 16. Relation of the imaginative faculty to the theoretic. + +And now we find what noble sympathy and unity there is between the +imaginative and theoretic faculties. Both agree in this, that they +reject nothing, and are thankful for all; but the theoretic faculty +takes out of everything that which is beautiful, while the imaginative +faculty takes hold of the very imperfections which the theoretic +rejects, and by means of these angles and roughnesses, it joints and +bolts the separate stones into a mighty temple, wherein the theoretic +faculty in its turn, does deepest homage. Thus sympathetic in their +desires, harmoniously diverse in their operation, each working for the +other with what the other needs not, all things external to man are by +one or other turned to good. + + +Sec. 17. Modification of its manifestation. + +Now we have hitherto, for the sake of clearness, opposed the total +absence of imagination to the perfect presence of it, in order to make +the difference between composition and imagination thoroughly +understood. But if we are to give examples of either the want or the +presence of the power, it is necessary to note the circumstances by +which both are modified. In the first place, few artists of any standing +are totally devoid of this faculty, some small measure of it most of +them possess, though of all the forms of intellect, this, and its +sister, penetrative imagination, are the rarest and most precious; but +few painters have reached eminence without some leaven of it, whether it +can be increased by practice I doubt. On the other hand, fewer still are +possessed of it in very high degree, and even with the men of most +gigantic power in this respect, of whom, I think, Tintoret stands far +the head, there are evident limits to its exercise, and portions to be +found in their works that have not been included in the original grasp +of them, but have been suggested and incorporated during their progress, +or added in decoration; and with the great mass of painters there are +frequent flaws and failures in the conception, so that, when they intend +to produce a perfect work they throw their thought into different +experimental forms, and decorate it and discipline it long before +realizing it, so that there is a certain amount of mere composition in +the most imaginative works; and a grain or two of imagination commonly +in the most artificial. And again, whatever portions of a picture are +taken honestly and without alteration from nature, have, so far as they +go, the look of imagination, because all that nature does is +imaginative, that is, perfect as a whole, and made up of imperfect +features; so that the painter of the meanest imaginative power may yet +do grand things, if he will keep to strict portraiture, and it would be +well if all artists were to endeavor to do so, for if they have +imagination, it will force its way in spite of them, and show itself in +their every stroke, and if not, they will not get it by leaving nature, +but only sink into nothingness. + + +Sec. 18. Instances of absence of imagination.--Claude, Gaspar Poussin. + +Keeping these points in view, it is interesting to observe the different +degrees and relations of the imagination, as accompanied with more or +less feeling or desire of harmony, vigor of conception, or constancy of +reference to truth. Of men of name, perhaps Claude is the best instance +of a want of imagination, nearly total, borne out by painful but +untaught study of nature, and much feeling for abstract beauty of form, +with none whatever for harmony of expression. In Gaspar Poussin, we have +the same want of imagination disguised by more masculine qualities of +mind, and grander reachings after sympathy. Thus in the sacrifice of +Isaac in our own gallery, the spirit of the composition is solemn and +unbroken; it would have been a grand picture if the forms of the mass of +foliage on the right, and of the clouds in the centre, had not been +hopelessly unimaginative. The stormy wind of the picture of Dido and +Eneas blows loudly through its leaves, but the total want of invention +in the cloud forms bears it down beyond redemption. The foreground tree +of the La Riccia (compare Part II. Sec. VI. Chap. I., Sec. 6.) is another +characteristic instance of absolute nullity of imagination. + +[Illustration: THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI. From a painting by Ruskin, +after Tintoret.] + + +Sec. 19. Its presence.--Salvator, Nicolo Poussin, Titian, Tintoret. + +In Salvator, the imagination is vigorous, the composition dextrous and +clever, as in the St. Jerome of the Brera Gallery, the Diogenes of the +Pitti, and the pictures of the Guadagni palace. All are rendered +valueless by coarseness of feeling and habitual non-reference to nature. + +All the landscape of Nicolo Poussin is imaginative, but the development +of the power in Tintoret and Titian is so unapproachably intense that +the mind unwillingly rests elsewhere. The four landscapes which occur to +me as the most magnificently characteristic are, first, the Flight into +Egypt, of the Scuola di San Rocco (Tintoret;) secondly, the Titian of +the Camuccini collection at Rome, with the figures by John Bellini; +thirdly, Titian's St. Jerome, in the Brera Gallery at Milan; and +fourthly, the St. Pietro Martire, which I name last, in spite of its +importance, because there is something unmeaning and unworthy of Titian +about the undulation of the trunks, and the upper part of it is +destroyed by the intrusion of some dramatic clouds of that species which +I have enough described in our former examination of the central cloud +region, Sec. 13. + +I do not mean to set these four works above the rest of the landscape of +these masters; I name them only because the landscape is in them +prominent and characteristic. It would be well to compare with them the +other backgrounds of Tintoret in the Scuola, especially that of the +Temptation and the Agony in the Garden, and the landscape of the two +large pictures in the church of La Madonna dell' Orto. + + +Sec. 20. And Turner. + +But for immediate and close illustration, it is perhaps best to refer to +a work more accessible, the Cephalus and Procris of Turner, in Liber +Studiorum. + +I know of no landscape more purely or magnificently imaginative or +bearing more distinct evidence of the relative and simultaneous +conception of the parts. Let the reader first cover with his hand the +two trunks that rise against the sky on the right, and ask himself how +any termination of the central mass so _ugly_ as the straight trunk +which he will then painfully see, could have been conceived or admitted +without simultaneous conception of the trunks he has taken away on the +right? Let him again conceal the whole central mass, and leave these two +only, and again ask himself whether anything so ugly as that bare trunk +in the shape of a Y, could have been admitted without reference to the +central mass? Then let him remove from this trunk its two arms, and try +the effect; let him again remove the single trunk on the extreme right; +then let him try the third trunk without the excrescence at the bottom +of it; finally, let him conceal the fourth trunk from the right, with +the slender boughs at the top; he will find in each case that he has +destroyed a feature on which everything else depends, and if proof be +required of the vital power of still smaller features, let him remove +the sunbeam that comes through beneath the faint mass of trees on the +hill in the distance.[53] + +It is useless to enter into farther particulars; the reader may be left +to his own close examination of this and of the other works of Turner, +in which he will always find the associative imagination developed in +the most profuse and marvellous modes, especially in the drawing of +foliage and skies, in both of which the presence or absence of the +associative power may best be tested in all artists. I have, however, +confined my present illustrations chiefly to foliage, because other +operations of the imagination besides the associative, interfere +extensively in the treatment of sky. + + +Sec. 21. The due function of Associative Imagination with respect to + nature. + +There remains but one question to be determined relating to this +faculty, what operation, namely, supposing it possessed in high degree, +it has or ought to have in the artist's treatment of natural scenery. + +I have just said that nature is always imaginative, but it does not +follow that her imagination is always of high subject, or that the +imagination of all the parts is of a like and sympathetic kind; the +boughs of every bramble bush are imaginatively arranged, so are those of +every oak and cedar; but it does not follow that there is imaginative +sympathy between bramble and cedar. There are few natural scenes whose +harmonies are not conceivably improvable either by banishment of some +discordant point, or by addition of some sympathetic one; it constantly +happens that there is a profuseness too great to be comprehended, or an +inequality in the pitch, meaning, and intensity of different parts. The +imagination will banish all that is extraneous, it will seize out of the +many threads of different feeling which nature has suffered to become +entangled, one only, and where that seems thin and likely to break, it +will spin it stouter, and in doing this, it never knots, but weaves in +the new thread, so that all its work looks as pure and true as nature +itself, and cannot be guessed from it but by its exceeding simplicity, +(_known_ from it, it cannot be,) so that herein we find another test of +the imaginative work, that it looks always as if it had been gathered +straight from nature, whereas the unimaginative shows its joints and +knots, and is visibly composition. + + +Sec. 22. The sign of imaginative work is its appearance of absolute truth. + +And here then we arrive at an important conclusion (though one somewhat +contrary to the positions commonly held on the subject,) namely, that if +anything looks unnatural, there can be no imagination in it (at least +not associative.) We frequently hear works that have no truth in them, +justified or elevated on the score of being imaginative. Let it be +understood once for all, that imagination never designs to touch +anything but truth, and though it does not follow that where there is +the appearance of truth, there has been imaginative operation, of this +we may be assured, that where there is appearance of falsehood, the +imagination has had no hand.[54] + +For instance, the landscape above mentioned of Titian's St. Jerome may, +for aught I know, be a pure transcript of a rocky slope covered with +chestnuts among his native mountains. It has all the look of a sketch +from nature; if it be not, the imagination developed in it is of the +highest order; if it be, the imagination has only acted in the +suggestion of the dark sky, of the shape of the flakes of solemn cloud, +and of the gleam of russet light along the distant ground.[55] + +Again, it is impossible to tell whether the two nearest trunks of the +Aesacus and Hesperie of the Liber Studiorum, especially the large one on +the right with the ivy, have been invented, or taken straight from +nature, they have all the look of accurate portraiture. I can hardly +imagine anything so perfect to have been obtained except from the real +thing; but we know that the imagination must have begun to operate +somewhere, we cannot tell where, since the multitudinous harmonies of +the rest of the picture could hardly in any real scene have continued so +inviolately sweet. + +The final tests, therefore, of the work of associative imagination are +its intense simplicity, its perfect harmony, and its absolute truth. It +may be a harmony, majestic, or humble, abrupt, or prolonged, but it is +always a governed and perfect whole, evidencing in all its relations the +weight, prevalence, and universal dominion of an awful, inexplicable +Power; a chastising, animating, and disposing Mind. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [50] Compare Chapter IV. of this Section. + + [51] On the distinction rightly made by the metaphysicians between + conception absolute and conception accompanied by reference to past + time, (or memory,) it is of no necessity here to insist. + + [52] Elements of Chemistry, by the late Edward Turner, M.D. Part II. + Sec. IV. + + [53] This ray of light, however, has an imaginative power of another + kind presently to be spoken of. Compare Chap. IV. Sec. 18. + + [54] Compare Chap. III. Sec.30. + + [55] It is said at Venice that Titian took the trees of the St. + Pietro Martiere out of his garden opposite Murano. I think this + unlikely; there is something about the lower trunks that has a taint + of composition: the thought of the whole, however, is thoroughly + fine. The backgrounds of the frescoes at Padua are also very + characteristic, and the well-known woodcut of St. Francis receiving + the stigmata, one of the mightiest of existing landscape thoughts; + and yet it is pure portraiture of pine and Spanish chestnut. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + OF IMAGINATION PENETRATIVE. + + +Sec. 1. Imagination penetrative is concerned not with the combining but + apprehending of things. + +Thus far we have been defining that combining operation of the +imagination, which appears to be in a sort mechanical, yet takes place +in the same inexplicable modes, whatever be the order of conception +submitted to it, though I chose to illustrate it by its dealings with +mere matter before taking cognizance of any nobler subjects of imagery. +We must now examine the dealing of the imagination with its separate +conceptions, and endeavor to understand not only its principles of +selection, but its modes of apprehension with respect to what it +selects. + + +Sec. 2. Milton's and Dante's description of flame. + +When Milton's Satan first "rears from off the pool, his mighty stature," +the image of Leviathan before suggested not being yet abandoned, the +effect on the fire-wave is described as of the upheaved monster on the +ocean stream. + + "On each hand the flames, + Driven backwards, slope their pointing spires, + and rolled + In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale." + +And then follows a fiercely restless piece of volcanic imagery. + + "As when the force + Of subterranean wind transports a hill + Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side + Of thundering Aetna, whose combustible + And fuell'd entrails thence conceiving fire, + Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, + And leave a singed bottom, all involved + With stench and smoke; such resting found the sole + Of unblest feet." + +Yet I think all this is too far detailed, and deals too much with +externals; we feel rather the form of the fire-waves than their fury, we +walk upon them too securely, and the fuel, sublimation, smoke, and +singeing, seem to me images only of partial combustion; they vary and +extend the conception, but they lower the thermometer. Look back, if you +will, and add to the description the glimmering of the livid flames; the +sulphurous hail and red lightning; yet altogether, however they +overwhelm us with horror, fail of making us thoroughly, unendurably hot. +The intense essence of flame has not been given. Now hear Dante:-- + + "Feriami 'l Sole in su l'omero destro + Che gia raggiando tutto l'Occidente + _Mutava in bianco aspetto di eilestro. + Ed io_ facea _con l'ombra piu rovente + Parer la flamma_." + +That is a slight touch; he has not gone to Aetna nor Pelorus for fuel; +but we shall not soon recover from it--he has taken our breath away and +leaves us gasping. No smoke nor cinders there. Pure, white, hurtling, +formless flame; very fire crystal, we cannot make spires nor waves of +it, nor divide it, nor walk on it, there is no question about singeing +soles of feet. It is lambent annihilation. + + +Sec. 3. The imagination seizes always by the innermost point. + +Such is always the mode in which the highest imaginative faculty seizes +its materials. It never stops at crusts or ashes, or outward images of +any kind, it ploughs them all aside, and plunges into the very central +fiery heart, nothing else will content its spirituality, whatever +semblances and various outward shows and phases its subject may possess, +go for nothing, it gets within all fence, cuts down to the root, and +drinks the very vital sap of that it deals with: once there it is at +liberty to throw up what new shoots it will, so always that the true +juice and sap be in them, and to prune and twist them at its pleasure, +and bring them to fairer fruit than grew on the old tree; but all this +pruning and twisting is work that it likes not, and often does ill; its +function and gift are the getting at the root, its nature and dignity +depend on its holding things always by the heart. Take its hand from off +the beating of that, and it will prophesy no longer; it looks not in the +eyes, it judges not by the voice, it describes not by outward features, +all that it affirms, judges, or describes, it affirms from within. + + +Sec. 4. It acts intuitively and without reasoning. + +It may seem to the reader that I am incorrect in calling this +penetrating, possession-taking faculty, imagination. Be it so, the name +is of little consequence; the faculty itself, called by what name we +will, I insist upon as the highest intellectual power of man. There is +no reasoning in it, it works not by algebra, nor by integral calculus, +it is a piercing, Pholas-like mind's tongue that works and tastes into +the very rock heart, no matter what be the subject submitted to it, +substance or spirit, all is alike, divided asunder, joint and marrow, +whatever utmost truth, life, principle, it has, laid bare, and that +which has no truth, life, nor principle, dissipated into its original +smoke at a touch. The whispers at men's ears it lifts into visible +angels. Vials that have lain sealed in the deep sea a thousand years it +unseals, and brings out of them Genii. + +Every great conception of poet or painter is held and treated by this +faculty. Every character that is so much as touched by men like +Aeschylus, Homer, Dante, or Shakspeare, is by them held by the heart; and +every circumstance or sentence of their being, speaking, or seeming, is +seized by process from within, and is referred to that inner secret +spring of which the hold is never lost for an instant; so that every +sentence, as it has been thought out from the heart, opens for us a way +down to the heart, leads us to the centre, and then leaves us to gather +what more we may; it is the open sesame of a huge, obscure, endless +cave, with inexhaustible treasure of pure gold scattered in it: the +wandering about and gathering the pieces may be left to any of us, all +can accomplish that; but the first opening of that invisible door in the +rock is of the imagination only. + + +Sec. 5. Signs of it in language. + +Hence there is in every word set down by the imaginative mind an awful +under-current of meaning, and evidence and shadow upon it of the deep +places out of which it has come. It is often obscure, often half told, +for he who wrote it, in his clear seeing of the things beneath, may have +been impatient of detailed interpretation, but if we choose to dwell +upon it and trace it, it will lead us always securely back to that +metropolis of the soul's dominion from which we may follow out all the +ways and tracks to its farthest coasts. + +I think the "Quel giorno piu non vi leggemmo avante" of Francesca di +Rimini, and the "He has no children" of Macduff are as fine instances as +can be given, but the sign and mark of it are visible on every line of +the four great men above instanced. + + +Sec. 6. Absence of imagination, how shown. + +The imaginative writer, on the other hand, as he has never pierced to +the heart, so he can never touch it: if he has to paint a passion, he +remembers the external signs of it, he collects expressions of it from +other writers, he searches for similes, he composes, exaggerates, heaps +term on term, figure on figure, till we groan beneath the cold, +disjointed heap; but it is all faggot and no fire, the life breath is +not in it, his passion has the form of the Leviathan, but it never makes +the deep boil, he fastens us all at anchor in the scaly rind of it, our +sympathies remain as idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean. + +And that virtue of originality that men so strain after, is not newness, +as they vainly think, (there is nothing new,) it is only genuineness; it +all depends on this single glorious faculty of getting to the spring of +things and working out from that; it is the coolness, and clearness, and +deliciousness of the water fresh from the fountain head, opposed to the +thick, hot, unrefreshing drainage from other men's meadows. + + +Sec. 7. Distinction between imagination and fancy. + +This freshness, however, is not to be taken for an infallible sign of +imagination, inasmuch as it results also from a vivid operation of +fancy, whose parallel function to this division of the imaginative +faculty it is here necessary to distinguish. + +I believe it will be found that the entirely unimaginative mind _sees_ +nothing of the object it has to dwell upon or describe, and is therefore +utterly unable, as it is blind itself, to set anything before the eyes +of the reader.[56] + +The fancy sees the outside, and is able to give a portrait of the +outside, clear, brilliant, and full of detail.[57] + +The imagination sees the heart and inner nature, and makes them felt, +but is often obscure, mysterious, and interrupted, in its giving of +outer detail. + +Take an instance. A writer with neither imagination nor fancy, +describing a fair lip, does not see it, but thinks about it, and about +what is said of it, and calls it well-turned, or rosy, or delicate, or +lovely, or afflicts us with some other quenching and chilling epithet. +Now hear fancy speak,-- + + "Her lips were red, and one was thin, + Compared with that was next her chin, + Some bee had stung it newly."[58] + +The real, red, bright being of the lip is there in a moment But it is +all outside; no expression yet, no mind. Let us go a step farther with +Warner, of fair Rosamond struck by Eleanor. + + "With that she dashed her on the lips + So dyed double red; + Hard was the heart that gave the blow, + Soft were those lips that bled." + +The tenderness of mind begins to mingle with the outside color, the +imagination is seen in its awakening. Next Shelley,-- + + "Lamp of life, thy lips are burning + Through the veil that seems to hide them, + As the radiant lines of morning + Through thin clouds, ere they divide them." + +There dawns the entire soul in that morning; yet we may stop if we +choose at the image still external, at the crimson clouds. The +imagination is contemplative rather than penetrative. Last, hear +Hamlet,-- + +"Here hung those lips that I have kissed, I know not how oft. Where be +your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that +were wont to set the table on a roar?" + +There is the essence of lip, and the full power of the imagination. + +Again, compare Milton's flowers in Lycidas with Perdita's. In Milton it +happens, I think, generally, and in the case before us most certainly, +that the imagination is mixed and broken with fancy, and so the strength +of the imagery is part of iron and part of clay. + + "Bring the rathe primrose, that forsaken dies (Imagination) + The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, (Nugatory) + The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet,-- (Fancy) + The glowing violet, (Imagination) + The musk rose, and the well-attired woodbine, (Fancy, vulgar) + With cowslips wan, that hang the pensive head, (Imagination) + And every flower that sad embroidery wears." (Mixed) + +Then hear Perdita:-- + + "O, Proserpina, + For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall + From Dis's wagon. Daffodils + That come before the swallow dares, and take + The winds of March with beauty. Violets, dim, + But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes + Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses + That die unmarried, ere they can behold + Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady + Most incident to maids." + +Observe how the imagination in these last lines goes into the very +inmost soul of every flower, after having touched them all at first with +that heavenly timidness, the shadow of Proserpine's; and gilded them +with celestial gathering, and never stops on their spots, or their +bodily shape, while Milton sticks in the stains upon them, and puts us +off with that unhappy freak of jet in the very flower that without this +bit of paper-staining would have been the most precious to us of all. +"There is pansies, that's for thoughts." + + +Sec. 8. Fancy how involved with imagination. + +So I believe it will be found throughout the operation of the fancy, +that it has to do with the outsides of things, and is content therewith: +of this there can be no doubt in such passage as that description of +Mab, so often given as an illustration of it, and many other instances +will be found in Leigh Hunt's work already referred to. Only some +embarrassment is caused by passages in which fancy is seizing the +outward signs of emotion, understanding them as such, and yet, in +pursuance of her proper function, taking for her share, and for that +which she chooses to dwell upon, the outside sign rather than the +emotion. Note in Macbeth that brilliant instance. + + "Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky + And fan our people cold." + +The outward shiver and coldness of fear is seized on, and irregularly +but admirably attributed by the fancy to the drift of the banners. +Compare Solomon's Song where the imagination stays not at the outside, +but dwells on the fearful emotion itself? + + "Who is she that looketh forth as the morning; fair as the moon, clear + as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?" + + +Sec. 9. Fancy is never serious + +Now, if this be the prevailing characteristic of the two faculties, it +is evident that certain other collateral differences will result from +it. Fancy, as she stays at the externals, can never feel. She is one of +the hardest hearted of the intellectual faculties, or rather one of the +most purely and simply intellectual. She cannot be made serious,[59] no +edge-tools but she will play with; whereas the imagination is in all +things the reverse. She cannot be but serious; she sees too far, too +darkly, too solemnly, too earnestly, ever to smile. There is something +in the heart of everything, if we can reach it, that we shall not be +inclined to laugh at. The [Greek: anerithmon gelasma] of the sea is on +its surface, not in the deep. + + +Sec. 10. Want of seriousness the bar to high art at the present time. + +And thus there is reciprocal action between the intensity of moral +feeling and the power of imagination; for, on the one hand, those who +have keenest sympathy are those who look closest and pierce deepest, and +hold securest; and, on the other, those who have so pierced and seen the +melancholy deeps of things, are filled with the most intense passion and +gentleness of sympathy. Hence, I suppose that the powers of the +imagination may always be tested by accompanying tenderness of emotion, +and thus, (as Byron said,) there is no tenderness like Dante's, neither +any intensity nor seriousness like his, such seriousness that it is +incapable of perceiving that which is commonplace or ridiculous, but +fuses all down into its white-hot fire; and, on the other hand, I +suppose the chief bar to the action of imagination, and stop to all +greatness in this present age of ours, is its mean and shallow love of +jest and jeer, so that if there be in any good and lofty work a flaw or +failing, or undipped vulnerable part where sarcasm may stick or stay, it +is caught at, and pointed at, and buzzed about, and fixed upon, and +stung into, as a recent wound is by flies, and nothing is ever taken +seriously nor as it was meant, but always, if it may be, turned the +wrong way, and misunderstood; and while this is so, there is not, nor +cannot be any hope of achievement of high things; men dare not open +their hearts to us, if we are to broil them on a thorn-fire. + + +Sec. 11. Imagination is quiet; fancy, restless. + +This, then, is one essential difference between imagination and fancy, +and another is like it and resultant from it, that the imagination being +at the heart of things, poises herself there, and is still, quiet, and +brooding; comprehending all around her with her fixed look, but the +fancy staying at the outside of things, cannot see them all at once, but +runs hither and thither, and round and about to see more and more, +bounding merrily from point to point, and glittering here and there, but +necessarily always settling, if she settle at all, on a point only, +never embracing the whole. And from these single points she can strike +out analogies and catch resemblances, which, so far as the point she +looks at is concerned, are true, but would be false, if she could see +through to the other side. This, however, she cares not to do, the point +of contact is enough for her, and even if there be a gap left between +the two things and they do not quite touch, she will spring from one to +the other like an electric spark, and be seen brightest in her leaping. + + +Sec. 12. The detailing operation of fancy. + +Now these differences between the imagination and the fancy hold, not +only in the way they lay hold of separate conceptions, but even in the +points they occupy of time, for the fancy loves to run hither and +thither in time, and to follow long chains of circumstances from link to +link; but the imagination, if it may, gets holds of a moment or link in +the middle that implies all the rest, and fastens there. Hence Fuseli's +aphorism, "Invention never suffers the action to expire, nor the +spectator's fancy to consume itself in preparation, or stagnate into +repose. It neither begins from the egg, nor coldly gathers the remains." + +In Retsch's illustrations to Schiller's Kampf mit dem Drachen, we have +an instance, miserably feeble indeed, but characteristic, and suited to +our present purpose, of the detailing, finishing action of the fancy. +The dragon is drawn from head to tail, vulture eyes, serpent teeth, +forked tongue, fiery crest, armor, claws and coils as grisly as may be; +his den is drawn, and all the dead bones in it, and all the savage +forest-country about it far and wide; we have him from the beginning of +his career to the end, devouring, rampant, victorious over whole armies, +gorged with death; we are present at all the preparations for his +attack, see him receive his death-wound, and our anxieties are finally +becalmed by seeing him lie peaceably dead on his back. + + +Sec. 13. And suggestive, of the imagination. + +All the time we have never got into the dragon heart, we have never once +felt real pervading horror, nor sense of the creature's being; it is +throughout nothing but an ugly composition of claw and scale. Now take +up Turner's Jason, Liber Studiorum, and observe how the imagination can +concentrate all this, and infinitely more, into one moment. No far +forest country, no secret paths, nor cloven hills, nothing but a gleam +of pale horizontal sky, that broods over pleasant places far away, and +sends in, through the wild overgrowth of the thicket, a ray of broken +daylight into the hopeless pit. No flaunting plumes nor brandished +lances, but stern purpose in the turn of the crestless helmet, visible +victory in the drawing back of the prepared right arm behind the steady +point. No more claws, nor teeth, nor manes, nor stinging tails. We have +the dragon, like everything else, by the middle. We need see no more of +him. All his horror is in that fearful, slow, grinding upheaval of the +single coil. Spark after spark of it, ring after ring, is sliding into +the light, the slow glitter steals along him step by step, broader and +broader, a lighting of funeral lamps one by one, quicker and quicker; a +moment more, and he is out upon us, all crash and blaze among those +broken trunks;--but he will be nothing then to what he is now. + + +Sec. 14. This suggestiveness how opposed to vacancy. + +Now, it is necessary here very carefully to distinguish between that +character of the work which depends on the imagination of the beholder, +and that which results from the imagination of the artist, for a work is +often called imaginative when it merely leaves room for the action of +the imagination; whereas though nearly all imaginative works do this, +yet it may be done also by works that have in them no imagination at +all. A few shapeless scratches or accidental stains on a wall; or the +forms of clouds, or any other complicated accidents, will set the +imagination to work to coin something out of them, and all paintings in +which there is much gloom or mystery, possess therein a certain +sublimity owing to the play given to the beholder's imagination, +without, necessarily, being in the slightest degree imaginative +themselves. The vacancy of a truly imaginative work results not from +absence of ideas, or incapability of grasping and detailing them, but +from the painter having told the whole pith and power of his subject and +disdaining to tell more, and the sign of this being the case is, that +the imagination of the beholder is forced to act in a certain mode, and +feels itself overpowered and borne away by that of the painter, and not +able to defend itself, nor go which way it will, and the value of the +work depends on the truth, authority, and inevitability of this +suggestiveness, and on the absolute right choice of the critical moment. +Now observe in this work of Turner's, that the whole value of it +depends on the character of curve assumed by the serpent's body; for had +it been a mere semicircle, or gone down in a series of smaller coils, it +would have been in the first case, ridiculous, as false and unlike a +serpent, and in the second, disgusting, nothing more than an exaggerated +viper, but it is that _coming straight_ at the right hand which suggests +the drawing forth of an enormous weight, and gives the bent part its +springing look, that frightens us. Again, remove the light trunk[60] on +the left, and observe how useless all the gloom of the picture would +have been, if this trunk had not given it depth and _hollowness_. +Finally and chiefly, observe that the painter is not satisfied even with +all the suggestiveness thus obtained, but to make sure of us, and force +us, whether we will or no, to walk his way, and not ours, the trunks of +the trees on the right are all cloven into yawning and writhing heads +and bodies, and alive with dragon energy all about us, note especially +the nearest with its gaping jaws and claw-like branch at the seeming +shoulder; a kind of suggestion which in itself is not imaginative, but +merely fanciful, (using the term fancy in that third sense not yet +explained, corresponding to the third office of imagination;) but it is +imaginative in its present use and application, for the painter +addresses thereby that morbid and fearful condition of mind which he has +endeavored to excite in the spectator, and which in reality would have +seen in every trunk and bough, as it penetrated into the deeper thicket, +the object of its terror. + + +Sec. 15. Imagination addresses itself to imagination. + +Instances from the works of Tintoret. + +It is nevertheless evident, that however suggestive the work or picture +may be, it cannot have effect unless we are ourselves both watchful of +its very hint, and capable of understanding and carrying it out, and +although I think that this power of continuing or accepting the +direction of feeling given is less a peculiar gift, like that of the +original seizing, than a faculty dependent on attention, and improvable +by cultivation; yet, to a certain extent, the imaginative work will not, +I think, be rightly esteemed except by a mind of some corresponding +power; not but that there is an intense enjoyment in minds of feeble yet +light conception in the help and food they get from those of stronger +thought; but a certain imaginative susceptibility is at any rate +necessary, and above all things, earnestness and feeling, so that +assuredly a work of high conceptive dignity will be always +incomprehensible and valueless except in those who go to it in earnest +and give it time; and this is peculiarly the case when the imagination +acts not merely on the immediate subject, nor in giving a fanciful and +peculiar character to prominent objects, as we have just seen, but +busies itself throughout in expressing occult and far-sought sympathies +in every minor detail, of which action the most sublime instances are +found in the works of Tintoret, whose intensity of imagination is such +that there is not the commonest subject to which he will not attach a +range of suggestiveness almost limitless, nor a stone, leaf, or shadow, +nor anything so small, but he will give it meaning and oracular voice. + + +Sec. 16. The Entombment. + +In the centre of the gallery at Parma, there is a canvas of Tintoret's, +whose sublimity of conception and grandeur of color are seen in the +highest perfection, by their opposition to the morbid and vulgar +sentimentalism of Correggio. It is an Entombment of Christ, with a +landscape distance, of whose technical composition and details I shall +have much to say hereafter, at present I speak only of the thought it is +intended to convey. An ordinary or unimaginative painter would have made +prominent, among his objects of landscape, such as might naturally be +supposed to have been visible from the sepulchre, and shown with the +crosses of Calvary, some portion of Jerusalem, or of the Valley of +Jehoshaphat. But Tintoret has a far higher aim. Dwelling on the peculiar +force of the event before him, as the fulfilment of the final prophecy +respecting the passion, "He made his grave with the wicked and with the +_rich_ in his death," he desires to direct the mind of the spectator to +this receiving of the body of Christ, in its contrast with the houseless +birth and the desert life. And, therefore, behind the ghastly tomb-grass +that shakes its black and withered blades above the rocks of the +sepulchre, there is seen, not the actual material distance of the spot +itself, (though the crosses are shown faintly,) but that to which the +thoughtful spirit would return in vision, a desert place, where the +foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, and against the +barred twilight of the melancholy sky are seen the mouldering beams and +shattered roofing of a ruined cattle-shed, the canopy of the nativity. + + +Sec. 17. The Annunciation. + +Let us take another instance. No subject has been more frequently or +exquisitely treated by the religious painters than that of the +Annunciation, though as usual, the most perfect type of its pure ideal +has been given by Angelico, and by him with the most radiant +consummation (so far as I know) in a small reliquary in the sacristy of +St^a. Maria Novella. The background there, however, is altogether +decorative; but in the fresco of the corridor of St. Mark's, the +concomitant circumstances are of exceeding loveliness. The Virgin sits +in an open loggia, resembling that of the Florentine church of +L'Annunziata. Before her is a meadow of rich herbage, covered with +daisies. Behind her is seen through the door at the end of the loggia, +her chamber with its single grated window, through which a star-like +beam of light falls into the silence. All is exquisite in feeling, but +not inventive nor imaginative. Severe would be the shock and painful the +contrast, if we could pass in an instant from that pure vision to the +wild thought of Tintoret. For not in meek reception of the adoring +messenger, but startled by the rush of his horizontal and rattling +wings, the virgin sits, not in the quiet loggia, not by the green +pasture of the restored soul, but houseless, under the shelter of a +palace vestibule ruined and abandoned, with the noise of the axe and the +hammer in her ears, and the tumult of a city round about her desolation. +The spectator turns away at first, revolted, from the central object of +the picture, forced painfully and coarsely forward, a mass of shattered +brickwork, with the plaster mildewed away from it, and the mortar +mouldering from its seams; and if he look again, either at this or at +the carpenter's tools beneath it, will perhaps see in the one and the +other, nothing more than such a study of scene as Tintoret could but too +easily obtain among the ruins of his own Venice, chosen to give a coarse +explanation of the calling and the condition of the husband of Mary. But +there is more meant than this. When he looks at the composition of the +picture, he will find the whole symmetry of it depending on a narrow +line of light, the edge of a carpenter's square, which connects these +unused tools with an object at the top of the brickwork, a white stone, +four square, the corner-stone of the old edifice, the base of its +supporting column. This, I think, sufficiently explains the typical +character of the whole. The ruined house is the Jewish dispensation, +that obscurely arising in the dawning of the sky is the Christian; but +the corner-stone of the old building remains, though the builder's tools +lie idle beside it, and the stone which the builders refused is become +the Headstone of the corner. + + +Sec. 18. The Baptism of Christ. Its treatment by various painters. + +In this picture, however, the force of the thought hardly atones for the +painfulness of the scene and the turbulence of its feeling. The power of +the master is more strikingly shown in his treatment of a subject which, +however important, and however deep in its meaning, supplies not to the +ordinary painter material enough ever to form a picture of high +interest; the Baptism of Christ. From the purity of Giotto to the +intolerable, inconceivable brutality of Salvator,[61] every order of +feeling has been displayed in its treatment; but I am aware of no single +case, except this of which I am about to speak, in which it has formed +an impressive picture. + +Giotto's, in the Academy of Florence, engraved in the series just +published, (Galleria delle belle Arti,) is one of the most touching I +know, especially in the reverent action of the attendant angels, and +Leonardo's angel in that of Andrea del Verrocchio is very beautiful, but +the event is one whose character and importance are ineffable upon the +features: the descending dove hardly affects us, because its constant +symbolical occurrence hardens us, and makes us look on it as a mere type +or letter, instead of the actual presence of the Spirit; and by all the +sacred painters the power that might be put into the landscape is lost, +for though their use of foliage and distant sky or mountain is usually +very admirable, as we shall see in the fifth chapter, yet they cannot +deal with near water or rock, and the hexagonal and basaltic +protuberances of their river shore are I think too painful to be endured +even by the most acceptant mind, as eminently in that of Angelico, in +the Vita di Christo, which, as far as I can judge, is a total failure in +action, expression, and all else; and in general it is in this subject +especially, that the greatest painters show their weakness. For this +reason, I suppose, and feeling the difficulty of it, Tintoret has thrown +into it his utmost strength, and it becomes noble in his hands by his +most singularly imaginative expression, not only of the immediate fact, +but of the whole train of thought of which it is suggestive; and by his +considering the baptism not only as the submission of Christ to the +fulfilment of all righteousness, but as the opening of the earthly +struggle with the prince of the powers of the air, which instantly +beginning in the temptation, ended only on the cross. + + +Sec. 19. By Tintoret. + +The river flows fiercely under the shadow of a great rock. From its +opposite shore, thickets of close, gloomy foliage rise against the +rolling chasm of heaven, through which breaks the brightness of the +descending Spirit. Across these, dividing them asunder, is stretched a +horizontal floor of flaky cloud, on which stand the hosts of heaven. +Christ kneels upon the water, and does not sink; the figure of St. John +is indistinct, but close beside his raised right arm there is a spectre +in the black shade; the fiend, harpy-shaped, hardly seen, glares down +upon Christ with eyes of fire, waiting his time. Beneath this figure +there comes out of the mist a dark hand, the arm unseen, extended to a +net in the river, the spars of which are in the shape of a cross. +Behinds this the roots and under stems of the trees are cut away by the +cloud, and beneath it, and through them, is seen a vision of wild, +melancholy, boundless light, the sweep of the desert, and the figure of +Christ is seen therein alone, with his arms lifted as in supplication or +ecstacy, borne of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the +devil. + +There are many circumstances which combine to give to this noble work a +more than usually imaginative character. The symbolical use of the net, +which is the cross net still used constantly in the canals of Venice, +and common throughout Italy, is of the same character as that of the +carpenter's tools in the Annunciation; but the introduction of the +spectral figure is of bolder reach, and yet more, that vision of the +after temptation which is expressly indicated as a subject of thought +rather than of sight, because it is in a part of the scene, which in +_fact_ must have been occupied by the trunks of the trees whose tops are +seen above; and another circumstance completes the mystic character of +the whole, that the flaky clouds which support the angelic hosts take on +the right, where the light first falls upon them, the shape of the head +of a fish, the well-known type both of the baptismal sacrament, and of +Christ. + + +Sec. 20. The Crucifixion. + +But the most exquisite instance of this imaginative power occurs in an +incident in the background of the Crucifixion. I will not insult this +marvellous picture by an effort at a verbal account of it. I would not +whitewash it with praise, and I refer to it only for the sake of two +thoughts peculiarly illustrative of the intellectual faculty immediately +under discussion. In the common and most catholic treatment of the +subject, the mind is either painfully directed to the bodily agony, +coarsely expressed by outward anatomical signs, or else it is permitted +to rest on that countenance inconceivable by man at any time, but +chiefly so in this its consummated humiliation. In the first case, the +representation is revolting; in the second, inefficient, false, and +sometimes blasphemous. None even of the greatest religious painters have +ever, so far as I know, succeeded here; Giotto and Angelico were cramped +by the traditional treatment, and the latter especially, as before +observed, is but too apt to indulge in those points of vitiated feeling +which attained their worst development among the Byzantines: Perugino +fails in his Christ in almost every instance (of other men than these +after them we need not speak.) But Tintoret here, as in all other cases, +penetrating into the root and deep places of his subject, despising all +outward and bodily appearances of pain, and seeking for some means of +expressing, not the rack of nerve or sinew, but the fainting of the +deserted Son of God before his Eloi cry, and yet feeling himself utterly +unequal to the expression of this by the countenance, has on the one +hand filled his picture with such various and impetuous muscular +exertion that the body of the Crucified is, by comparison, in perfect +repose, and on the other has cast the countenance altogether into shade. +But the agony is told by this, and by this only, that though there yet +remains a chasm of light on the mountain horizon where the earthquake +darkness closes upon the day, the broad and sunlike glory about the head +of the Redeemer has become wan, and of the color of ashes.[62] + +But the great painter felt he had something more to do yet. Not only +that agony of the Crucified, but the tumult of the people, that rage +which invoked his blood upon them and their children. Not only the +brutality of the soldier, the apathy of the centurion, nor any other +merely instrumental cause of the Divine suffering, but the fury of his +own people, the noise against him of those for whom he died, were to be +set before the eye of the understanding, if the power of the picture was +to be complete. This rage, be it remembered, was one of disappointed +pride; and the disappointment dated essentially from the time, when but +five days before, the King of Zion came, and was received with +hosannahs, riding upon an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass. To this +time, then, it was necessary to direct the thoughts, for therein are +found both the cause and the character, the excitement of, and the +witness against, this madness of the people. In the shadow behind the +cross, a man, riding on an ass colt, looks back to the multitude, while +he points with a rod to the Christ crucified. The ass is feeding on the +_remnants_ of _withered palm-leaves_. + +With this master-stroke I believe I may terminate all illustration of +the peculiar power of the imagination over the feelings of the +spectator, by the elevation into dignity and meaning of the smallest +accessory circumstances. But I have not yet sufficiently dwelt on the +fact from which this power arises, the absolute truth of statement of +the central fact as it was, or must have been. Without this truth, this +awful first moving principle, all direction of the feelings is useless. +That which we cannot excite, it is of no use to know how to govern. + + +Sec. 21. The Massacre of innocents. + +I have before alluded, Sect. I. Chap. XIV., to the painfulness of +Raffaelle's treatment of the massacre of the innocents. Fuseli affirms +of it that, "in dramatic gradation he disclosed all the mother through +every image of pity and of terror." If this be so, I think the +philosophical spirit has prevailed over the imaginative. The imagination +never errs, it sees all that is, and all the relations and bearings of +it, but it would not have confused the mortal frenzy of maternal terror +with various development of maternal character. Fear, rage, and agony, +at their utmost pitch, sweep away all character: humanity itself would +be lost in maternity, the woman would become the mere personification of +animal fury or fear. For this reason all the ordinary representations of +this subject are, I think, false and cold: the artist has not heard the +shrieks, nor mingled with the fugitives, he has sat down in his study to +twist features methodically, and philosophize over insanity. Not so +Tintoret. Knowing or feeling, that the expression of the human face was +in such circumstances not to be rendered, and that the effort could only +end in an ugly falsehood, he denies himself all aid from the features, +he feels that if he is to place himself or us in the midst of that +maddened multitude, there can be no time allowed for watching +expression. Still less does he depend on details of murder or +ghastliness of death; there is no blood, no stabbing or cutting, but +there is an awful substitute for these in the chiaroscuro. The scene is +the outer vestibule of a palace, the slippery marble floor is fearfully +barred across by sanguine shadows, so that our eyes seem to become +bloodshot and strained with strange horror and deadly vision; a lake of +life before them, like the burning seen of the doomed Moabite on the +water that came by the way of Edom; a huge flight of stairs, without +parapet, descends on the left; down this rush a crowd of women mixed +with the murderers; the child in the arms of one has been seized by the +limbs, she hurls herself over the edge, and falls head downmost, +dragging the child out of the grasp by her weight;--she will be dashed +dead in a second: two others are farther in flight, they reach the edge +of a deep river,--the water is beat into a hollow by the force of their +plunge;--close to us is the great struggle, a heap of the mothers +entangled in one mortal writhe with each other and the swords, one of +the murderers dashed down and crushed beneath them, the sword of another +caught by the blade and dragged at by a woman's naked hand; the +youngest and fairest of the women, her child just torn away from a death +grasp and clasped to her breast with the grip of a steel vice, falls +backwards helplessly over the heap, right on the sword points; all knit +together and hurled down in one hopeless, frenzied, furious abandonment +of body and soul in the effort to save. Their shrieks ring in our ears +till the marble seems rending around us, but far back, at the bottom of +the stairs, there is something in the shadow like a heap of clothes. It +is a woman, sitting quiet,--quite quiet--still as any stone, she looks +down steadfastly on her dead child, laid along on the floor before her, +and her hand is pressed softly upon her brow. + + +Sec. 22. Various works in the Scuola di San Rocco. + +Sec. 23. The Last Judgment. How treated by various painters. + +This, to my mind, is the only imaginative; that is, the only true, real, +heartfelt representation of the being and actuality of the subject in +existence.[63] I should exhaust the patience of the reader if I were to +dwell at length on the various stupendous developments of the +imagination of Tintoret in the Scuola di San Rocco alone. I would fain +join a while in that solemn pause of the journey into Egypt, where the +silver boughs of the shadowy trees lace with their tremulous lines the +alternate folds of fair clouds, flushed by faint crimson light, and lie +across the streams of blue between those rosy islands, like the white +wakes of wandering ships; or watch beside the sleep of the disciples +among those massy leaves that lie so heavily on the dead of the night +beneath the descent of the angel of the agony, and toss fearfully above +the motion of the torches as the troop of the betrayer emerges out of +the hollows of the olives; or wait through the hour of accusing beside +the judgment seat of Pilate, where all is unseen, unfelt, except the one +figure that stands with its head bowed down, pale like a pillar of +moonlight, half bathed in the glory of the Godhead, half wrapt in the +whiteness of the shroud. Of these and all the other thoughts of +indescribable power that are now fading from the walls of those +neglected chambers, I may perhaps endeavor at some future time to +preserve some image and shadow more faithfully than by words; but I +shall at present terminate our series of illustrations by reference to a +work of less touching, but more tremendous appeal, the Last Judgment in +the Church of Santa Maria dell' Orto. In this subject, almost all +realizing or local statement had been carefully avoided by the most +powerful painters, they judging it better to represent its chief +circumstances as generic thoughts, and present them to the mind in a +typical or abstract form. In the judgment of Angelico the treatment is +purely typical, a long Campo santo, composed of two lines of graves, +stretches away into the distance; on the left side of it rise the +condemned; on the right the just. With Giotto and Orcagna, the +conception, though less rigid, is equally typical, no effort being made +at the suggestion of space, and only so much ground represented as is +absolutely necessary to support the near figures and allow space for a +few graves. Michael Angelo in no respect differs in his treatment, +except that his figures are less symmetrically grouped, and a greater +conception of space is given by their various perspective. No interest +is attached to his background in itself. Fra Bartolomeo, never able to +grapple with any species of sublimity except that of simple religious +feeling, fails most signally in this mighty theme.[64] His group of the +dead, including not more than ten or twelve figures, occupies the +foreground only, behind them a vacant plain extends to the foot of a +cindery volcano, about whose mouth several little black devils like +spiders are skipping and crawling. The judgment of quick and dead is +thus expressed as taking place in about a rood square, and on a dozen of +people at a time; the whole of the space and horizon of the sky and land +being left vacant, and the presence of the Judge of all the earth made +more finite than the sweep of a whirlwind or a thunder-storm. + + +Sec. 24. By Tintoret. + +By Tintoret only has this unimaginable event been grappled with in its +verity; not typically nor symbolically, but as they may see it who shall +not sleep, but be changed. Only one traditional circumstance he has +received with Dante and Michael Angelo, the boat of the condemned; but +the impetuosity of his mind bursts out even in the adoption of this +image, he has not stopped at the scowling ferryman of the one, nor at +the sweeping blow and demon dragging of the other, but, seized +Hylas-like by the limbs, and tearing up the earth in his agony, the +victim is dashed into his destruction; nor is it the sluggish Lethe, nor +the fiery lake that bears the cursed vessel, but the oceans of the earth +and the waters of the firmament gathered into one white, ghastly +cataract, the river of the wrath of God, roaring down into the gulf +where the world has melted with its fervent heat, choked with the ruin +of nations, and the limbs of its corpses tossed out of its whirling, +like water-wheels. Bat like, out of the holes and caverns and shadows of +the earth, the bones gather, and the clay-heaps heave, rattling and +adhering into half-kneaded anatomies, that crawl, and startle, and +struggle up among the putrid weeds, with the clay clinging to their +clotted hair, and their heavy eyes sealed by the earth darkness yet, +like his of old who went his way unseeing to Siloam Pool; shaking off +one by one the dreams of the prison-house, hardly hearing the clangor of +the trumpets of the armies of God, blinded yet more, as they awake, by +the white light of the new Heaven, until the great vortex of the four +winds bears up their bodies to the judgment seat: the firmament is all +full of them, a very dust of human souls, that drifts, and floats, and +falls in the interminable, inevitable light; the bright clouds are +darkened with them as with thick snow, currents of atom life in the +arteries of heaven, now soaring up slowly, farther, and higher, and +higher still, till the eye and the thought can follow no farther, borne +up, wingless, by their inward faith and by the angel powers invisible, +now hurled in countless drifts of horror before the breath of their +condemnation. + + +Sec. 25. The imaginative verity, how distinguished from realism. + +Now, I wish the reader particularly to observe throughout all these +works of Tintoret, the distinction of the imaginative verity from +falsehood on the one hand, and from realism on the other. The power of +every picture depends on the penetration of the imagination into the +TRUE nature of the thing represented, and on the utter scorn of the +imagination for all shackles and fetters of mere external fact that +stand in the way of its suggestiveness. In the Baptism it cuts away the +trunks of trees as if they were so much cloud or vapor, that it may +exhibit to the thought the completed sequency of the scene;[65] in the +Massacre, it covers the marble floor with visionary light, that it may +strike terror into the spectator without condescending to butchery; it +defies the bare fact, but creates in him the fearful feeling; in the +Crucifixion it annihilates locality, and brings the palm-leaves to +Calvary, so only that it may bear the mind to the mount of Olives, as in +the entombment it brings the manger to Jerusalem, that it may take the +heart to Bethlehem; and all this it does in the daring consciousness of +its higher and spiritual verity, and in the entire knowledge of the fact +and substance of all that it touches. The imaginary boat of the demon +angel expands the rush of the visible river into the descent of +irresistible condemnation; but to make that rush and roar felt by the +eye and heard by the ear, the rending of the pine branches above the +cataract is taken directly from nature; it is an abstract of Alpine +storm. Hence while we are always placed face to face with whatever is to +be told, there is in and beyond its reality a voice supernatural; and +that which is doubtful in the vision has strength, sinew, and +assuredness, built up in it by fact. + + +Sec. 26. The imagination how manifested in sculpture. + +Let us, however, still advance one step farther, and observe the +imaginative power deprived of all aid from chiaroscuro, color, or any +other means of concealing the frame-work of its thoughts. + +It was said by Michael Angelo that "non ha l'ottimo scultore alcun +concetto, Ch'un marmo solo in se non circoscriva," a sentence which, +though in the immediate sense intended by the writer it may remind us a +little of the indignation of Boileau's Pluto, "Il s'ensuit de la que +tout ce qui se peut dire de beau, est dans les dictionnaires,--il n'y a +que les paroles qui sont transposees," yet is valuable, because it shows +us that Michael Angelo held the imagination to be entirely expressible +in rock, and therefore altogether independent, in its own nature, of +those aids of color and shade by which it is recommended in Tintoret, +though the sphere of its operation is of course by these incalculably +extended. But the presence of the imagination may be rendered in marble +as deep, thrilling, and awful as in painting, so that the sculptor seek +for the soul and govern the body thereby. + + +Sec. 27. Bandinelli, Canova, Mino da Fiesole. + +Sec. 28. Michael Angelo. + +Of unimaginative work, Bandinelli and Canova supply us with +characteristic instances of every kind, the Hercules and Cacus of the +former, and its criticism by Cellini, will occur at once to every one; +the disgusting statue now placed so as to conceal Giotto's important +tempera picture in Santa Croce is a better instance, but a still more +impressive lesson might be received by comparing the inanity of Canova's +garland grace, and ball-room sentiment with the intense truth, +tenderness, and power of men like Mino da Fiesole, whose chisel leaves +many a hard edge, and despises down and dimple, but it seems to cut +light and carve breath, the marble burns beneath it, and becomes +transparent with very spirit. Yet Mino stopped at the human nature; he +saw the soul, but not the ghostly presences about it; it was reserved +for Michael Angelo to pierce deeper yet, and to see the indwelling +angels. No man's soul is alone: Laocoon or Tobit, the serpent has it by +the heart or the angel by the hand, the light or the fear of the +spiritual things that move beside it may be seen on the body; and that +bodily form with Buonaroti, white, solid, distinct material, though it +be, is invariably felt as the instrument or the habitation of some +infinite, invisible power. The earth of the Sistine Adam that begins to +burn; the woman embodied burst of adoration from his sleep; the twelve +great torrents of the Spirit of God that pause above us there, urned in +their vessels of clay; the waiting in the shadow of futurity of those +through whom the promise and presence of God went down from the Eve to +the Mary, each still and fixed, fixed in his expectation, silent, +foreseeing, faithful, seated each on his stony throne, the building +stones of the word of God, building on and on, tier by tier, to the +Refused one, the head of the corner; not only these, not only the troops +of terror torn up from the earth by the four quartered winds of the +Judgment, but every fragment and atom of stone that he ever touched +became instantly inhabited by what makes the hair stand up and the words +be few; the St. Matthew, not yet disengaged from his sepulchre, bound +hand and foot by his grave clothes, it is left for us to loose him; the +strange spectral wreath of the Florence Pieta, casting its pyramidal, +distorted shadow, full of pain and death, among the faint purple lights +that cross and perish under the obscure dome of St^a. Maria del Fiore, +the white lassitude of joyous limbs, panther like, yet passive, fainting +with their own delight, that gleam among the Pagan formalisms of the +Uffizii, far away, showing themselves in their lustrous lightness as the +waves of an Alpine torrent do by their dancing among the dead stones, +though the stones be as white as they:[66] and finally, and perhaps more +than all, those four ineffable types, not of darkness nor of day--not of +morning nor evening, but of the departure and the resurrection, the +twilight and the dawn of the souls of men--together with the spectre +sitting in the shadow of the niche above them;[67] all these, and all +else that I could name of his forming, have borne, and in themselves +retain and exercise the same inexplicable power--inexplicable because +proceeding from an imaginative perception almost superhuman, which goes +whither we cannot follow, and is where we cannot come; throwing naked +the final, deepest root of the being of man, whereby he grows out of the +invisible, and holds on his God home.[68] + + +Sec. 29. Recapitulation. The perfect function of the imagination is the + intuitive perception of ultimate truth. + +Now, in all these instances, let it be observed, for it is to that end +alone that I have been arguing all along, that the virtue of the +imagination is its reaching, by intuition and intensity of gaze, (not by +reasoning, but by its authoritative opening and revealing power,) a +more essential truth than is seen at the surface of things. I repeat +that it matters not whether the reader is willing call this faculty +imagination or no, I do not care about the name; but I would be +understood when I speak of imagination hereafter, to mean this, the true +foundation of all art which exercises eternal authority over men's +minds; (all other imagination than this is either secondary and +contemplative, or utterly spurious;) the base of whose authority and +being is its perpetual thirst of truth and purpose to be true. It has no +food, no delight, no care, no perception, except of truth; it is forever +looking under masks, and burning up mists; no fairness of form, no +majesty of seeming will satisfy it; the first condition of its +existence is incapability of being deceived; and though it sometimes +dwells upon and substantiates the fictions of fancy, yet its own +operation is to trace to their farthest limit the true laws and +likelihoods even of the fictitious creation. This has been well +explained by Fuseli, in his allusion to the Centaur of Zeuxis; and there +is not perhaps a greater exertion of imaginative power than may be +manifested in following out to their farthest limits the necessary +consequences of such arbitrary combination; but let not the jests of the +fancy be confounded with that after serious work of the imagination +which gives them all the nervous verity and substance of which they are +capable. Let not the monsters of Chinese earthenware be confounded with +the Faun, Satyr, or Centaur. + + +Sec. 30. Imagination now vulgarly understood. + +How different this definition of the imagination may be from the idea of +it commonly entertained among us, I can hardly say, because I have a +very indistinct idea of what is usually meant by the term. I hear modern +works constantly praised as being imaginative, in which I can trace no +virtue of any kind; but simple, slavish, unpalliated falsehood and +exaggeration; I see not what merit there can be in pure, ugly, resolute +fiction; it is surely easy enough to be wrong; there are many ways of +being unlike nature. I understand not what virtue that is which entitles +one of these ways to be called imaginative, rather than another; and I +am still farther embarrassed by hearing the portions of those works +called especially imaginative in which there is the most effort at +minute and mechanical statement of contemptible details, and in which +the artist would have been as actual and absolute in imitation as an +echo, if he had known how. Against convictions which I do not +understand, I cannot argue; but I may warn the artist that imagination +of this strange kind, is not capable of bearing the time test; nothing +of its doing ever has continued its influence over men; and if he +desires to take place among the great men of older time, there is but +one way for it; and one kind of imagination that will stand the immortal +light: I know not how far it is by effort cultivable; but we have +evidence enough before us to show in what direction that effort must be +made. + + +Sec. 31. How its cultivation is dependent on the moral feelings. + +We have seen (Sec. 10) that the imagination is in no small degree +dependent on acuteness of moral emotion; in fact, all moral truth can +only thus be apprehended--and it is observable, generally, that all true +and deep emotion is imaginative, both in conception and expression; and +that the mental sight becomes sharper with every full beat of the heart; +and, therefore, all egotism, and selfish care, or regard, are in +proportion to their constancy, destructive of imagination; whose play +and power depend altogether on our being able to forget ourselves and +enter like possessing spirits into the bodies of things about us. + + +Sec. 32. On independence of mind. + +Again, as the life of imagination is in the discovering of truth, it is +clear it can have no respect for sayings or opinions: knowing in itself +when it has invented truly--restless and tormented except when it has +this knowledge, its sense of success or failure is too acute to be +affected by praise or blame. Sympathy it desires--but can do without; of +opinions it is regardless, not in pride, but because it has no vanity, +and is conscious of a rule of action and object of aim in which it +cannot be mistaken; partly, also, in pure energy of desire and longing +to do and to invent more and more, which suffer it not to suck the +sweetness of praise--unless a little, with the end of the rod in its +hand, and without pausing in its march. It goes straight forward up the +hill; no voices nor mutterings can turn it back, nor petrify it from its +purpose.[69] + + +Sec. 33. And on habitual reference to nature. + +Finally, it is evident, that like the theoretic faculty, the imagination +must be fed constantly by external nature--after the illustrations we +have given, this may seem mere truism, for it is clear that to the +exercise of the penetrative faculty a subject of penetration is +necessary; but I note it because many painters of powerful mind have +been lost to the world by their suffering the restless writhing of their +imagination in its cage to take place of its healthy and exulting +activity in the fields of nature. The most imaginative men always study +the hardest, and are the most thirsty for new knowledge. Fancy plays +like a squirrel in its circular prison, and is happy; but imagination is +a pilgrim on the earth--and her home is in heaven. Shut her from the +fields of the celestial mountains--bar her from breathing their lofty, +sun-warmed air; and we may as well turn upon her the last bolt of the +tower of famine, and give the keys to the keeping of the wildest surge +that washes Capraja and Gorgona. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [56] Compare Arist. Rhet. III. 11. + + [57] For the distinction between fancy and simple conception; see + Chap. IV. Sec. 3. + + [58] I take this and the next instance from Leigh Hunt's admirable + piece of criticism, "Imagination and Fancy," which ought to be read + with care, and to which, though somewhat loosely arranged, I may + refer for all the filling up and illustration that the subject + requires. With respect to what has just been said respecting want of + imagination, compare his criticism of Addison's Cato, p. 28. I + cannot, however, confirm his judgment, nor admit his selection of + instances, among painters: he has looked to their manner only and + habitual choice of subject, without feeling their power; and has + given work to the coarseness, mindlessness, and eclecticism of Guido + and the Carracci, which in its poetical demand of tenderness might + have foiled Pinturicchio; of dignity, Leonardo; and of color, + Giorgione. + + [59] Fancy, in her third function may, however, become serious, and + gradually rise into imagination in doing so. Compare Chap. IV. Sec. 5. + + [60] I am describing from a proof: in bad impressions this trunk is + darkened. + + [61] The picture is in the Guadagni palace. It is one of the most + important landscapes Salvator ever painted. The figures are studied + from street beggars. On the one side of the river, exactly opposite + the point where the Baptism of Christ takes place, the painter, with + a refinement of feeling peculiarly his own, has introduced some + ruffians stripping off their shirts to bathe. He is fond of this + incident. It occurs again in one of the marines of the Pitti palace, + with the additional interest of a foreshortened figure, swimming on + its back, feet foremost, exactly in the stream of light to which the + eye is principally directed. + + [62] This circumstance, like most that lie not at the surface, has + escaped Fuseli, though his remarks on the general tone of the + picture are very good, as well as his opposition of it to the + treatment of Rubens. (Lecture IX.) + + [63] Note the shallow and uncomprehending notice of this picture by + Fuseli. His description of the treatment of it by other painters is + however true, terse, and valuable. + + [64] Fresco in an out-house of the Ospedale St^a. Maria Nuova at + Florence. + + [65] The same thing is done yet more boldly in the large composition + of the ceiling; the plague of fiery serpents; a part of the host, + and another sky horizon are seen through an opening in the ground. + + [66] The Bacchus. There is a small statue opposite it + also--unfinished, but "a spirit still." + + [67] I would have insisted more on the ghostly vitality of this + dreadful statue; but the passage referring to it in Rogers's Italy + supersedes all further description. I suppose most lovers of art + know it by heart. + + "Nor then forget that chamber of the dead, + Where the gigantic shapes of Night and Day, + Turned into stone, rest everlastingly; + Yet still are breathing, and shed round at noon + A twofold influence,--only to be felt-- + A light, a darkness, mingling each with each; + Both, and yet neither. There, from age to age, + Two ghosts are sitting on their sepulchres. + That is the Duke Lorenzo. Mark him well. + He meditates, his head upon his hand. + What from beneath his helm-like bonnet scowls? + Is it a face, or but an eyeless skull? + 'Tis lost in shade; yet, like the basilisk, + It fascinates, and is intolerable. + His mien is noble, most majestical! + Then most so, when the distant choir is heard + At morn or eve--nor fail thou to attend + On that thrice-hallowed day, when all are there; + When all, propitiating with solemn songs, + Visit the Dead. Then wilt thou feel his power!" + + It is strange that this should be the only written instance (as far + as I recollect) of just and entire appreciation of Michael Angelo's + spiritual power. It is perhaps owing to the very intensity of his + imagination that he has been so little understood--for, as I before + said, imagination can never be met by vanity, nor without + earnestness. His Florentine followers saw in him an anatomist and + posture-master--and art was finally destroyed by the influence over + admiring idiocy of the greatest mind that art ever inspired. + + [68] I have not chosen to interrupt the argument respecting the + essence of the imaginative faculty by any remarks on the execution + of the imaginative hand; but we can hardly leave Tintoret and + Michael Angelo without some notice of the pre-eminent power of + execution exhibited by both of them, in consequence of their vigor + and clearness of conception; nor without again warning the lower + artist from confounding this velocity of decision and impatience + with the velocity of affectation or indolence. Every result of real + imagination we have seen to be a truth of some sort; and it is the + characteristic of truth to be in some way tangible, seizable, + distinguishable, and clear, as it is of falsehood to be obscure, + confused, and confusing. Not but that many, if not most truths have + a dark side, a side by which they are connected with mysteries too + high for us,--nay, I think it is commonly but a poor and miserable + truth which the human mind can walk all round, but at all events + they have one side by which we can lay hold of them, and feel that + they are downright adamant, and that their form, though lost in + cloud here and there, is unalterable and real, and not less real and + rocky because infinite, and joined on, St. Michael's mount-like to a + far mainland. So then, whatever the real imagination lays hold of, + as it is a truth, does not alter into anything else as the + imaginative part works at it and feels over it and finds out more of + it, but comes out more and more continually, all that is found out + pointing to and indicating still more behind, and giving additional + stability and reality to that which is discovered already. But if it + be fancy or any other form of pseudo-imagination which is at work, + then that which it gets hold of may not be a truth, but only an + idea, which will keep giving way as soon as we try to take hold of + it and turning into something else, so that as we go on copying it, + every part will be inconsistent with all that has gone before, and + at intervals it will vanish altogether, and leave blanks which must + be filled up by any means at hand. And in these circumstances, the + painter, unable to seize his thought, because it has not substance + nor bone enough to bear grasping, is liable to catch at every line + that he lays down, for help and suggestion, and to be led away by it + to something else, which the first effort to realize dissipates in + like manner, placing another phantom in its stead, until out of the + fragments of these successive phantoms he has glued together a + vague, mindless, involuntary whole, a mixture of all that was trite + or common in each of the successive conceptions, for that is + necessarily what is first caught a heap of things with the bloom off + and the chill on, laborious, unnatural, inane, with its emptiness + disguised by affectation, and its tastelessness salted by + extravagance. + + Necessarily, from these modes of conception, three vices of + execution must result; and these are necessarily found in all those + parts of the work where any trust has been put in conception, and + only to be avoided in portions of actual portraiture (for a + thoroughly unimaginative painter can make no use of a study--all his + studies are guesses and experiments, all are equally wrong, and so + far felt to be wrong by himself, that he will not work by any of + them, but will always endeavor to improve upon them in the picture, + and so lose the use of them). These three vices of execution are + then--first, feebleness of handling, owing to uncertainty of + intention; secondly, intentional carelessness of handling, in the + hope of getting by accident something more than was meant; and + lastly, violence and haste of handling, in the effort to secure as + much as possible of the obscure image of which the mind feels itself + losing hold. (I am throughout, it will be observed, attributing + right feeling to the unimaginative painter; if he lack this, his + execution may be cool and determined, as he will set down falsehood + without blushing, and ugliness without suffering.) Added to these + various evidences of weakness, will be the various vices assumed for + the sake of concealment; morbid refinements disguising + feebleness--or insolence and coarseness to cover desperation. When + the imagination is powerful, the resulting execution is of course + the contrary of all this: its first steps will commonly be + impetuous, in clearing its ground and getting at its first + conception--as we know of Michael Angelo in his smiting his blocks + into shape, (see the passage quoted by Sir Charles Clarke in the + Essay on Expression, from Blaise de Vigenere,) and as it is visible + in the handling of Tintoret always: as the work approaches + completion, the stroke, while it remains certain and firm, because + its end is always known, may frequently become slow and careful, + both on account of the difficulty of following the pure lines of the + conception, and because there is no fear felt of the conception's + vanishing before it can be realized; but generally there is a + certain degree of impetuosity visible in the works of all the men of + high imagination, when they are not working from a study, showing + itself in Michael Angelo by the number of blocks he left unfinished, + and by some slight evidences in those he completed of his having + worked painfully towards the close; so that, except the Duke + Lorenzo, the Bacchus of the Florentine gallery, and the Pieta of + Genoa, I know not any of his finished works in which his mind is as + mightily expressed as in his marble sketches; only, it is always to + be observed that impetuosity or rudeness of hand is not + necessarily--and, if imaginative, is never--carelessness. In the two + landscapes at the end of the Scuola di San Rocco, Tintoret has drawn + several large tree trunks with two strokes of his brush--one for the + dark, and another for the light side; and the large rock at the foot + of the picture of the Temptation is painted with a few detached + touches of gray over a flat brown ground; but the touches of the + tree-trunks have been followed by the mind as they went down with + the most painful intensity through their every undulation; and the + few gray strokes on the stone are so considered that a better stone + cone could not be painted if we took a month to it: and I suppose, + generally, it would be utterly impossible to give an example of + execution in which less was left to accident, or in which more care + was concentrated in every stroke, than the seemingly regardless and + impetuous handling of this painter. + + On the habit of both Tintoret and Michael Angelo to work straight + forward from the block and on the canvas, without study or model, it + is needless to insist; for though this is one of the most amazing + proofs of their imaginative power, it is a dangerous precedent. No + mode of execution ought ever to be taught to a young artist as + better than another; he ought to understand the truth of what he has + to do, felicitous execution will follow as a matter of course; and + if he feels himself capable of getting at the right at once, he will + naturally do so without reference to precedent. He ought to hold + always that his duty is to attain the highest result he can,--but + that no one has any business with the means or time he has taken. If + it can be done quickly, let it be so done; if not, let it be done at + any rate. For knowing his way he is answerable, and therefore must + not walk _doubtingly_; but no one can blame him for walking + _cautiously_, if the way be a narrow one, with a slip on each side. + He may pause, but he must not hesitate,--and tremble, but must not + vacillate. + + [69] That which we know of the lives of M. Angelo and Tintoret is + eminently illustrative of this temper. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + OF IMAGINATION CONTEMPLATIVE. + + +Sec. 1. Imagination contemplative is not part of the essence, but only a + habit or mode of the faculty. + +We have, in the two preceding chapters, arrived at definite conclusions +respecting the power and essence of the imaginative faculty. In these +two acts of penetration and combination, its separating and +characteristic attributes are entirely developed; it remains for us only +to observe a certain habit or mode of operation in which it frequently +delights, and by which it addresses itself to our perceptions more +forcibly, and asserts its presence more distinctly than in those mighty +but more secret workings wherein its life consists. + +In our examination of the combining imagination, we chose to assume the +first or simple conception to be as clear in the absence as in the +presence of the object of it. This, I suppose, is in point of fact never +the case, nor is an approximation to such distinctness of conception +always a characteristic of the imaginative mind. Many persons have +thorough and felicitous power of drawing from memory, yet never +originate a thought, nor excite an emotion. + + +Sec. 2. The ambiguity of conception. + +Sec. 3. Is not in itself capable of adding to the charm of fair things. + +The form in which conception actually occurs to ordinary minds appears +to derive value and preciousness from that indefiniteness which we +alluded to in the second chapter, (Sec. 2,) for there is an unfailing charm +in the memory and anticipation of things beautiful, more sunny and +spiritual than attaches to their presence; for with their presence it +is possible to be sated, and even wearied, but with the imagination of +them never; in so far that it needs some self-discipline to prevent the +mind from falling into a morbid condition of dissatisfaction with all +that it immediately possesses, and continual longing for things absent; +and yet I think this charm is not justly to be attributed to the mere +vagueness and uncertainty of the conception, except thus far, that of +objects whose substantial presence was ugly or painful the sublimity and +impressiveness, if there were any, is retained in the conception, while +the sensual offensiveness is withdrawn; thus circumstances of horror may +be safely touched in verbal description, and for a time dwelt upon by +the mind, as often by Homer and Spenser, (by the latter frequently with +too much grossness, as in the description of the combat of the Red-Cross +Knight with Errour,) which could not for a moment be regarded or +tolerated in their reality, or on canvas; and besides this mellowing and +softening operation on those it retains, the conceptive faculty has the +power of letting go many of them altogether out of its groups of ideas, +and retaining only those where the meminisse juvabit will apply; and in +this way the entire group of memories becomes altogether delightful; but +of those parts of anything which are in themselves beautiful, I think +the indistinctness no benefit, but that the brighter they are the +better; and that the peculiar charm we feel in conception results from +its grasp and blending of ideas rather than from their obscurity, for we +do not usually recall, as we have seen, one part at a time only of a +pleasant scene, one moment only of a happy day; but together with each +single object we summon up a kind of crowded and involved shadowing +forth of all the other glories with which it was associated, and into +every moment we concentrate an epitome of the day; and it will happen +frequently that even when the visible objects or actual circumstances +are not in numbers remembered; yet the feeling and joy of them is +obtained we know not how or whence, and so with a kind of conceptive +burning glass we bend the sunshine of all the day, and the fulness of +all the scene upon every point that we successively seize; and this +together with more vivid action of fancy, for I think that the wilful +and playful seizure of the points that suit her purpose and help her +springing, whereby she is distinguished from simple conception, takes +place more easily and actively with the memory of things than in +presence of them. But, however this be, and I confess that there is much +that I cannot satisfactorily to myself unravel with respect to the +nature of simple conception; it is evident that this agreeableness, +whatever it be, is not by art attainable, for all art is in some sort +realization; it may be the realization of obscurity or indefiniteness, +but still it must differ from the mere conception of obscurity and +indefiniteness; so that whatever emotions depend absolutely on +imperfectness of conception, as the horror of Milton's Death, cannot be +rendered by art, for art can only lay hold of things which have shape, +and destroys by its touch the fearfulness or pleasurableness of those +which shape have none. + + +Sec. 4. But gives to the imagination its regardant power over them. + +But on this indistinctness of conception, itself comparatively valueless +and unaffecting, is based the operation of the imaginative faculty with +which we are at present concerned, and in which its glory is +consummated: whereby, depriving the subject of material and bodily +shape, and regarding such of its qualities only as it chooses for +particular purpose, it forges these qualities together in such groups +and forms as it desires, and gives to their abstract being consistency +and reality, by striking them as it were with the die of an image +belonging to other matter, which stroke having once received, they pass +current at once in the peculiar conjunction and for the peculiar value +desired. + +Thus, in the description of Satan quoted in the first chapter, "And like +a comet burned," the bodily shape of the angel is destroyed, the +inflaming of the formless spirit is alone regarded; and this, and his +power of evil associated in one fearful and abstract conception are +stamped to give them distinctness and permanence with the image of the +comet, "that fires the length of Ophiuchus huge." Yet this could not be +done, but that the image of the comet itself is in a measure indistinct, +capable of awful expansion, and full of threatening and fear. Again, in +his fall, the imagination binds up the thunder, the resistance, the +massy prostration, separates them from the external form, and binds them +together by the help of that image of the mountain half sunk; which +again would be unfit but for its own indistinctness, and for that +glorious addition "with all his pines," whereby a vitality and +spear-like hostility are communicated to its falling form, and the fall +is marked as not utter subversion, but sinking only, the pines remaining +in their uprightness, and unity, and threatening of darkness upon the +descended precipice: and again in that yet more noble passage at the +close of the fourth book, where almost every operation of the +contemplative imagination is concentrated; the angelic squadron first +gathered into one burning mass by the single expression "sharpening in +mooned horns," then told out in their unity and multitude and stooped +hostility, by the image of the wind upon the corn; Satan endowed with +godlike strength and endurance in that mighty line, "like Teneriffe or +Atlas, unremoved," with infinitude of size the next instant, and with +all the vagueness and terribleness of spiritual power, by the "horror +plumed," and the "_what seemed_ both spear and shield." + + +Sec. 5. The third office of fancy distinguished from imagination + contemplative. + +The third function of fancy, already spoken of as subordinate to this of +the imagination, is the highest of which she is capable; like the +imagination, she beholds in the things submitted to her treatment things +different from the actual; but the suggestions she follows are not in +their nature essential in the object contemplated; and the images +resulting, instead of illustrating, may lead the mind away from it, and +change the current of contemplative feeling; for as in her operation +parallel to imagination penetrative, we saw her dwelling upon external +features, while the nobler sister, faculty, entered within, so now, when +both, from what they see and know in their immediate object, are +conjuring up images illustrative or elevatory of it, the fancy +necessarily summons those of mere external relationship, and therefore +of unaffecting influence; while the imagination, by every ghost she +raises, tells tales about the prison-house, and therefore never loses +her power over the heart, nor her unity of emotion. On the other hand, +the regardant or contemplative action of fancy is in this different +from, and in this nobler, than that mere seizing and likeness-catching +operation we saw in her before; that when contemplative, she verily +believes in the truth of the vision she has summoned, loses sight of +actuality, and beholds the new and spiritual image faithfully and even +seriously; whereas before, she summoned no spiritual image, but merely +caught the vivid actuality, or the curious resemblance of the real +object; not that these two operations are separate, for the fancy passes +gradually from mere vivid right of reality, and witty suggestion of +likeness, to a ghostly sight of what is unreal; and through this, in +proportion as she begins to feel, she rises towards and partakes of +imagination itself, for imagination and fancy are continually united, +and it is necessary, when they are so, carefully to distinguish the +feelingless part which is fancy's, from the sentient part, which is +imagination's. Let us take a few instances. Here is fancy, first, very +beautiful, in her simple capacity of likeness-catching:-- + + "To-day we purpose--aye, this hour we mount + To spur three leagues towards the Apennine. + Come down, we pray thee, ere the _hot sun count + His dewy rosary_ on the eglantine." + +Seizing on the outside resemblances of bead form, and on the slipping +from their threading bough one by one, the fancy is content to lose the +heart of the thing, the solemnity of prayer: or perhaps I do the +glorious poet wrong in saying this, for the sense of a sun worship and +orison in beginning its race, may have been in his mind; and so far as +it was so, the passage is imaginative and not fanciful. But that which +most readers would accept from it, is the mere flash of the external +image, in whose truth the fancy herself does not yet believe and +therefore is not yet contemplative. Here, however, is fancy believing in +the images she creates:-- + + "It feeds the quick growth of the serpent-vine, + And the dark linked ivy tangling wild + And budding, blown, or odor faded blooms, + Which _star the winds with points of colored light_ + As they rain through them; and _bright golden globes + Of fruit suspended in their own green heaven_." + +It is not, observe, a mere likeness that is caught here; but the flowers +and fruit are entirely deprived by the fancy of their material +existence, and contemplated by her seriously and faithfully as stars and +worlds; yet it is only external likeness that she catches; she forces +the resemblance, and lowers the dignity of the adopted image. + +Next take two delicious stanzas of fancy regardant, (believing in her +creations,) followed by one of heavenly imagination, from Wordsworth's +address to the daisy:-- + + "A Nun demure--of lowly port; + Or sprightly maiden--of Love's court, + In thy simplicity the sport + Of all temptations. + A Queen in crown of rubies drest, + A starveling in a scanty vest, + Are all as seems to suit thee best,-- + Thy appellations. + + I see thee glittering from afar, + And then thou art a pretty star,-- + Not quite so fair as many are + In heaven above thee. + Yet like a star, with glittering crest, + Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest;-- + May peace come never to his nest + Who shall reprove thee. + + Sweet flower--for by that name at last, + When all my reveries are past, + I call thee, and to that cleave fast. + Sweet silent creature, + That breath'st with me, in sun and air, + Do thou, as thou art wont, repair + My heart with gladness, and a share + Of thy meek nature." + + +Sec. 6. Various instances. + +Observe how spiritual, yet how wandering and playful the fancy is in the +first two stanzas, and how far she flies from the matter in hand, never +stopping to brood on the character of any one of the images she summons, +and yet for a moment truly seeing and believing in them all; while in +the last stanza the imagination returns with its deep feeling to the +heart of the flower, and "_cleaves fast_" to that. Compare the operation +of the imagination in Coleridge, on one of the most trifling objects +that could possibly have been submitted to its action. + + "The thin blue flame + Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not: + Only that film which fluttered on the grate + Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. + Methinks its motion in this hush of nature + Gives it dim sympathies with me, who live, + Making it a companionable form, + Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling spirit + By its own moods interprets; everywhere, + Echo or mirror seeking of itself, + And makes a toy of thought." + +Lastly, observe the sweet operation of fancy regardant, in the following +well-known passage from Scott, where both her beholding and transforming +powers are seen in their simplicity. + + "The rocky summits--split and rent, + Formed turret, dome, or battlement.-- + Or seemed fantastically set + With cupola or minaret. + Nor were these earth-born castles bare, + Nor lacked they many a banner fair, + For from their shivered brows displayed, + Far o'er th' unfathomable glade, + All twinkling with the dew-drop sheen, + The brier-rose fell, in streamers green,-- + And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes + Waved in the west wind's summer sighs." + +Let the reader refer to this passage, with its pretty tremulous +conclusion above the pine tree, "where glistening streamers waved and +danced," and then compare with it the following, where the imagination +operates on a scene nearly similar. + + "Gray rocks did peep from the spare moss, and stemm'd + The struggling brook; tall spires of windle strae + Threw their thin shadows down the rugged slope, + And nought but knarled roots of ancient pines, + Branchless and blasted, clench'd with grasping roots + Th' unwilling soil. . . . + . . . . . . A gradual change was here, + Yet ghastly. For, _as fast years flow away, + The smooth brow gathers, and the hair grows thin + And white; and where irradiate dewy eyes + Had shone, gleam stony orbs; so from his steps + Bright flowers departed, and the beautiful shade + Of the green groves, with all their odorous winds + And musical motions._ . . . . + . . . . . . . . . . . + . . . . . Where the pass extends + Its stony jaws, the abrupt mountain breaks. + And seems with its accumulated crags + To overhang the world; for wide expand + Beneath the wan stars, and descending moon, + Islanded seas, blue mountains, mighty streams, + _Dim tracts and vast, robed in the lustrous gloom + Of leaden-colored even_, and _fiery hills + Mingling their flames with twilight_ on the verge + Of the remote horizon. The near scene + In naked, and severe simplicity + Made contrast with the universe. A pine + Rock-rooted, stretch'd athwart the vacancy + Its swinging boughs, to each _inconstant blast + Yielding one only response at each pause_, + In most familiar cadence, with the howl, + The thunder, and the hiss of _homeless_ streams, + Mingling its solemn song." + +[Illustration: STUDY OF STONE PINE, AT SESTRI. From a drawing by +Ruskin.] + +In this last passage, the mind never departs from its solemn possession +of the solitary scene, the imagination only giving weight, meaning, and +strange human sympathies to all its sights and sounds. + +In that from Scott,[70]--the fancy, led away by the outside resemblance +of floating form and hue to the banners, loses the feeling and +possession of the scene, and places herself in circumstances of +character completely opposite to the quietness and grandeur of the +natural objects; this would have been unjustifiable, but that the +resemblance occurs to the mind of the monarch, rather than to that of +the poet; and it is that, which of all others, would have been the most +likely to occur at the time; in this point of view it has high +imaginative propriety. Of the same fanciful character is that +transformation of the tree trunks into dragons noticed before in +Turner's Jason; and in the same way this becomes imaginative as it +exhibits the effect of fear in disposing to morbid perception. Compare +with it the real and high action of the imagination on the same matter +in Wordsworth's Yew trees (which I consider the most vigorous and solemn +bit of forest landscape ever painted):-- + + "Each particular trunk a growth + Of intertwisted fibres serpentine, + Up coiling and inveterately convolved, + _Nor uninformed with Phantasy, and looks + That threaten the profane_." + +It is too long to quote, but the reader should refer to it: let him note +especially, if painter, that pure touch of color, "by sheddings from the +pining umbrage tinged." + +In the same way, the blasted trunk on the left, in Turner's drawing of +the spot where Harold fell at the battle of Hastings, takes, where its +boughs first separate, the shape of the head of an arrow; this, which is +mere fancy in itself, is imagination as it supposes in the spectator an +excited condition of feeling dependent on the history of the spot. + + +Sec. 7. Morbid or nervous fancy. + +I have been led perhaps into too great detail in illustrating these +points; but I think it is of no small importance to prove how in all +cases the imagination is based upon, and appeals to, a deep heart +feeling; and how faithful and earnest it is in contemplation of the +subject matter, never losing sight of it, or disguising it, but +depriving it of extraneous and material accidents, and regarding it in +its disembodied essence. I have not, however, sufficiently noted in +opposition to it, that diseased action of the fancy which depends more +on nervous temperament than intellectual power; and which, as in +dreaming, fever, insanity, and other morbid conditions of mind is +frequently a source of daring and inventive conception; and so the +visionary appearances resulting from various disturbances of the frame +by passion, and from the rapid tendency of the mind to invest with shape +and intelligence the active influences about it, as in the various +demons, spirits, and fairies of all imaginative nations; which, however, +I consider are no more to be ranked as right creations of fancy or +imagination than things actually seen and heard; for the action of the +nerves is I suppose the same, whether externally caused, or from within, +although very grand imagination may be shown by the intellectual +anticipation and realization of such impressions; as in that glorious +vignette of Turner's to the voyage of Columbus. "Slowly along the +evening sky they went." Note especially therein, how admirably true to +the natural form, and yet how suggestive of the battlement he has +rendered the level flake of evening cloud. + + +Sec. 8. The action of contemplative imagination is not to be expressed by + art. + +I believe that it is unnecessary for me to enter into farther detail of +illustration respecting these points; for fuller explanation of the +operations of the contemplative faculty on things verbally expressible, +the reader may be referred to Wordsworth's preface to his poems; it only +remains for us, here, to examine how far this imaginative or abstract +conception is to be conveyed by the material art of the sculptor or the +painter. + +Now, it is evident that the bold action of either the fancy or the +imagination, dependent on a bodiless and spiritual image of the object, +is not to be by lines or colors represented. We cannot, in the painting +of Satan fallen, suggest any image of pines or crags,--neither can we +assimilate the brier and the banner, nor give human sympathy to the +motion of the film, nor voice to the swinging of the pines. + + +Sec. 9. Except under narrow limits.--1st. Abstract rendering of form + without color. + +Yet certain powers there are, within due limits, of marking the thing +represented with an ideal character; and it was to these powers that I +alluded in defining the meaning of the term ideal, in the thirteenth +chapter of the preceding section. For it is by this operation that the +productions of high art are separated from those of the realist. + +And, first, there is evidently capability of separating color and form, +and considering either separately. Form we find abstractedly considered +by the sculptor, how far it would be possible to advantage a statue by +the addition of color, I venture not to affirm; the question is too +extensive to be here discussed. High authorities and ancient practice, +are in favor of color; so the sculpture of the middle ages: the two +statues of Mino da Fiesole in the church of St^a. Caterina at Pisa +have been colored, the irises of the eyes painted dark, and the hair +gilded, as also I think the Madonna in St^a. Maria della Spina; the +eyes have been painted in the sculptures of Orcagna in Or San Michele, +but it looks like a remnant of barbarism, (compare the pulpit of Guida +da Como, in the church of San Bartolomeo at Pistoja,) and I have never +seen color on any solid forms, that did not, to my mind, neutralize all +other power; the porcelains of Luca della Robbia are painful examples, +and in lower art, Florentine mosaic in relief; gilding is more +admissible, and tells sometimes sweetly upon figures of quaint design, +as on the pulpit of St^a. Maria Novella, while it spoils the classical +ornaments of the mouldings. But the truest grandeur of sculpture I +believe to be in the white form; something of this feeling may be owing +to the difficulty, or rather the immediately, of obtaining truly noble +color upon it, but if we could color the Elgin marbles with the flesh +tint of Giorgione, I had rather not have it done. + + +Sec. 10. Of color without form. + +Color, without form, is less frequently obtainable, and it may be +doubted whether it be desirable: yet I think that to the full enjoyment +of it, a certain abandonment of form is necessary; sometimes by reducing +it to the shapeless glitter of the gem, as often Tintoret and Bassano; +sometimes by loss of outline and blending of parts, as Turner; sometimes +by flatness of mass, as often Giorgione and Titian. How far it is +possible for the painter to represent those mountains of Shelley as the +poet sees them, "mingling _their flames_ with twilight," I cannot say; +but my impression is, that there is no true abstract mode of +considering color; and that all the loss of form in the works of Titian +or Turner, is not ideal, but the representation of the natural +conditions under which bright color is seen; for form is always in a +measure lost by nature herself when color is very vivid. + + +Sec. 11. Or of both without texture. + +Again, there is capability of representing the essential character, +form, and color of an object, without external texture. On this point +much has been said by Reynolds and others, and it is, indeed, perhaps +the most unfailing characteristic of great manner in painting. Compare a +dog of Edwin Landseer with a dog of Paul Veronese. In the first, the +outward texture is wrought out with exquisite dexterity of handling, and +minute attention to all the accidents of curl and gloss which can give +appearance of reality, while the hue and power of the sunshine, and the +truth of the shadow on all these forms is necessarily neglected, and the +large relations of the animal as a mass of color to the sky or ground, +or other parts of the picture, utterly lost. This is realism at the +expense of ideality, it is treatment essentially unimaginative.[71] With +Veronese, there is no curling nor crisping, no glossiness nor sparkle, +hardly even hair, a mere type of hide, laid on with a few +scene-painter's touches. But the essence of dog is there, the entire +magnificent, generic animal type, muscular and living, and with broad, +pure, sunny daylight upon him, and bearing his true and harmonious +relation of color to all color about him. This is ideal treatment. + +The same treatment is found in the works of all the greatest men, they +all paint the lion more than his mane, and the horse rather than his +hide; and I think also they are more careful to obtain the right +expression of large and universal light and color, than local tints; for +the warmth of sunshine, and the force of sunlighted hue are always +sublime on whatever subject they may be exhibited; and so also are light +and shade, if grandly arranged, as may be well seen in an etching of +Rembrandt's of a spotted shell, which he has made altogether sublime by +broad truth and large ideality of light and shade; and so I have seen +frequent instances of very grand ideality in treatment of the most +commonplace still life, by our own Hunt, where the petty glosses and +delicacies, and minor forms, are all merged in a broad glow of suffused +color; so also in pieces of the same kind by Etty, where, however, +though the richness and play of color are greater, and the arrangement +grander, there is less expression of light, neither is there anything in +modern art that can be set beside some choice passages of Hunt in this +respect. + + +Sec. 12. Abstraction or typical representation of animal form. + +Again, it is possible to represent objects capable of various accidents +in generic or symbolical form. + + +Sec. 13. Either when it is symbolically used. + +How far this may be done with things having necessary form, as animals, +I am not prepared to say. The lions of the Egyptian room in the British +Museum, and the fish beside Michael Angelo's Jonah, are instances; and +there is imaginative power about both which we find not in the more +perfectly realized Florentine boar, nor in Raffaelle's fish of the +draught. And yet the propriety and nobility of these types depend on the +architectural use and character of the one, and on the typical meaning +of the other: we should be grieved to see the forms of the Egyptian lion +substituted for those of Raffaelle's in its struggle with Samson, nor +would the whale of Michael Angelo be tolerated in the nets of +Gennesaret. So that I think it is only when the figure of the creature +stands not for any representation of vitality, but merely for a letter +or type of certain symbolical meaning, or else is adopted as a grand +form of decoration or support in architecture, that such generalization +is allowable, and in such circumstances I think it necessary, always +provided it be based, as in the instances given I conceive it to be, +upon thorough knowledge of the creature symbolized and wrought out by a +master hand; and these conditions being observed, I believe it to be +right and necessary in architecture to modify all animal forms by a +severe architectural stamp, and in symbolical use of them, to adopt a +typical form, to which practice the contrary, and its evil consequences +are ludicrously exhibited in the St. Peter of Carlo Dolci in the Pitti +palace, which owing to the prominent, glossy-plumed and crimson-combed +cock, is liable to be taken for the portrait of a poulterer, only let it +be observed that the treatment of the animal form here is offensive, not +only from its realization, but from the pettiness and meanness of its +realization; for it might, in other hands but Carlo Dolci's, have been a +sublime cock, though a real one, but in his, it is fit for nothing but +the spit. Compare as an example partly of symbolical treatment, partly +of magnificent realization, that supernatural lion of Tintoret, in the +picture of the Doge Loredano before the Madonna, with the plumes of his +mighty wings clashed together in cloudlike repose, and the strength of +the sea winds shut within their folding. And note farther the difference +between the typical use of the animal, as in this case, and that of the +fish of Jonah, (and again the fish before mentioned whose form is +indicated in the clouds of the baptism), and the actual occurrence of +the creature itself, with concealed meaning, as the ass colt of the +crucifixion, which it was necessary to paint as such, and not as an +ideal form. + + +Sec. 14. Or in architectural decoration. + +Sec. 15. Exception in delicate and superimposed ornament. + +I cannot enter here into the question of the exact degree of severity +and abstraction necessary in the forms of living things architecturally +employed; my own feeling on the subject is, though I dare not lay it +down as a principle, (with the Parthenon pediment standing against me +like the shield of Ajax,) that no perfect representation of animal form +is right in architectural decoration. For my own part, I had much rather +see the metopes in the Elgin room of the British Museum, and the +Parthenon without them, than have them together, and I would not +surrender, in an architectural point of view, one mighty line of the +colossal, quiet, life-in-death statue mountains in Egypt with their +narrow fixed eyes and hands on their rocky limbs, nor one Romanesque +facade with its porphyry mosaic of indefinable monsters, nor one Gothic +moulding of rigid saints and grinning goblins, for ten Parthenons; and, +I believe, I could show some rational ground for this seeming barbarity +if this were the place to do so, but at present I can only ask the +reader to compare the effect of the so-called barbarous ancient mosaics +on the front of St. Mark's, as they have been recorded, happily, by the +faithfulness of the good Gentile Bellini, in one of his pictures now in +the Venice gallery, with the veritably barbarous pictorial substitutions +of the fifteenth century, (one only of the old mosaics remains, or did +remain till lately, over the northern door, but it is probably by this +time torn down by some of the Venetian committees of taste,) and also I +would have the old portions of the interior ceiling, or of the mosaics +of Murano and Torcello, and the glorious Cimabue mosaic of Pisa, and the +roof of the Baptistery at Parma, (that of the Florence Baptistery is a +bad example, owing to its crude whites and complicated mosaic of small +forms,) all of which are as barbarous as they can well be, in a certain +sense, but mighty in their barbarism, with any architectural decorations +whatsoever, consisting of professedly perfect animal forms, from the +vile frescoes of Federigo Zuccaro at Florence to the ceiling of the +Sistine, and again compare the professedly perfect sculpture of Milan +Cathedral with the statues of the porches of Chartres; only be it always +observed that it is not rudeness and ignorance of art, but +intellectually awful abstraction that I uphold, and also be it noted +that in all ornament, which takes place in the general effect merely as +so much fretted stone, in capitals and other pieces of minute detail, +the forms may be, and perhaps ought to be, elaborately imitative; and in +this respect again the capitals of St. Mark's church, and of the Doge's +palace at Venice may be an example to the architects of all the world, +in their boundless inventiveness, unfailing elegance, and elaborate +finish; there is more mind poured out in turning a single angle of that +church than would serve to build a modern cathedral;[72] and of the +careful finish of the work, this may serve for example, that one of the +capitals of the Doge's palace is formed of eight heads of different +animals, of which one is a bear's with a honeycomb in the mouth, whose +carved _cells_ are _hexagonal_. + + +Sec. 16. Abstraction necessary from imperfection of materials. + +Sec. 17. Abstractions of things capable of varied accident are not + imaginative. + +Sec. 18. Yet sometimes valuable. + +So far, then, of the abstraction proper to architecture, and to +symbolical uses, of which I shall have occasion to speak hereafter at +length, referring to it only at present as one of the operations of +imagination contemplative; other abstractions there are which are +necessarily consequent on the imperfection of materials, as of the hair +in sculpture, which is necessarily treated in masses that are in no sort +imitative, but only stand for hair, and have the grace, flow, and +feeling of it without the texture or division, and other abstractions +there are in which the form of one thing is fancifully indicated in the +matter of another; as in phantoms and cloud shapes, the use of which, in +mighty hands, is often most impressive, as in the cloudy charioted +Apollo of Nicolo Poussin in our own gallery, which the reader may oppose +to the substantial Apollo, in Wilson's Niobe, and again the phantom +vignette of Turner already noticed; only such operations of the +imagination are to be held of lower kind and dangerous consequence, if +frequently trusted in, for those painters only have the right +imaginative power who can set the supernatural form before us fleshed +and boned like ourselves.[73] Other abstractions occur, frequently, of +things which have much accidental variety of form, as of waves, on Greek +sculptures in successive volutes, and of clouds often in supporting +volumes in the sacred pictures; but these I do not look upon as results +of imagination at all, but mere signs and letters; and whenever a very +highly imaginative mind touches them, it always realizes as far as may +be. Even Titian is content to use at the top of his St. Pietro Martiri, +the conventional, round, opaque cloud, which cuts his trees open like a +gouge; but Tintoret, in his picture of the Golden Calf, though compelled +to represent the Sinai under conventional form, in order that the +receiving of the tables might be seen at the top of it, yet so soon as +it is possible to give more truth, he is ready with it; he takes a grand +fold of horizontal cloud straight from the flanks of the Alps, and shows +the forests of the mountains through its misty volume, like sea-weed +through deep sea.[74] Nevertheless, when the realization is impossible, +bold symbolism is of the highest value, and in religious art, as we +shall presently see, even necessary, as of the rays of light in the +Titian woodcut of St. Francis before noticed; and sometimes the +attention is directed by some such strange form to the meaning of the +image, which may be missed if it remains in its natural purity, (as, I +suppose, few in looking at the Cephalus and Procris of Turner, note the +sympathy of those faint rays that are just drawing back and dying +between the trunks of the far-off forest, with the ebbing life of the +nymph; unless, indeed, they happen to recollect the same sympathy marked +by Shelley in the Alastor;) but the imagination is not shown in any such +modifications; however, in some cases they may be valuable (in the +Cephalus they would be utterly destructive,) and I note them merely in +consequence of their peculiar use in religious art, presently to be +examined. + + +Sec. 19. Exaggeration. Its laws and limits. First, in scale of + representation. + +The last mode we have here to note in which the imagination regardant +may be expressed in art is exaggeration, of which, as it is the vice of +all bad artists, may be constantly resorted to without any warrant of +imagination, it is necessary to note strictly the admissible limits. + +In the first place, a colossal statue is necessarily no more an +exaggeration of what it represents than a miniature is a diminution, it +need not be a representation of a giant, but a representation, on a +large scale, of a man; only it is to be observed, that as any plane +intersecting the cone of rays between us and the object, must receive an +image smaller than the object; a small image is rationally and +completely expressive of a larger one; but not a large of a small one. +Hence I think that all statues above the Elgin standard, or that of +Michael Angelo's Night and Morning, are, in a measure, taken by the eye +for representations of giants, and I think them always disagreeable. The +amount of exaggeration admitted by Michael Angelo is valuable because it +separates the emblematic from the human form, and gives greater freedom +to the grand lines of the frame; for notice of his scientific system of +increase of size I may refer the reader to Sir Charles Bell's remarks on +the statues of the Medici chapel; but there is one circumstance which +Sir Charles has not noticed, and in the interpretation of which, +therefore, it is likely I may be myself wrong; that the extremities are +singularly small in proportion to the limbs, by which means there is an +expression given of strength and activity greater than in the ordinary +human type, which appears to me to be an allowance for that alteration +in proportion necessitated by increase of size, of which we took note in +Chap. VI. of the first section, Sec. 10, note; not but that Michael Angelo +always makes the extremities comparatively small, but smallest, +comparatively, in his largest works; so I think, from the size of the +head, it may be conjectured respecting the Theseus of the Elgins. Such +adaptations are not necessary when the exaggerated image is spectral; +for as the laws of matter in that case can have no operation, we may +expand the form as far as we choose, only let careful distinction be +made between the size of the thing represented, and the scale of the +representation. The canvas on which Fuseli has stretched his Satan in +the schools of the Royal Academy is a mere concession to inability. He +might have made him look more gigantic in one of a foot square. + + +Sec. 20. Secondly. Of things capable of variety of scale. + +Another kind of exaggeration is of things whose size is variable to a +size or degree greater than that usual with them, as in waves and +mountains; and there are hardly any limits to this exaggeration so long +as the laws which nature observes in her increase be observed. Thus, for +instance: the form and polished surface of a breaking ripple three +inches high, are not representation of either the form or the surface of +the surf of a storm, nodding ten feet above the beach; neither would the +cutting ripple of a breeze upon a lake if simply exaggerated, represent +the forms of Atlantic surges; but as nature increases her bulk, she +diminishes the angles of ascent, and increases her divisions; and if we +would represent surges of size greater than ever existed, which it is +lawful to do, we must carry out these operations to still greater +extent. Thus, Turner, in his picture of the Slave Ship, divides the +whole sea into two masses of enormous swell, and conceals the horizon by +a gradual slope of only two or three degrees. This is intellectual +exaggeration. In the Academy exhibition of 1843, there was, in one of +the smaller rooms, a black picture of a storm, in which there appeared +on the near sea, just about to be overwhelmed by an enormous breaker, +curling right over it, an object at first sight liable to be taken for a +walnut shell, but which, on close examination, proved to be a ship with +mast and sail, with Christ and his twelve disciples in it. This is +childish exaggeration, because it is impossible, by the laws of matter +and motion, that such a breaker should ever exist. Again in mountains, +we have repeatedly observed the necessary building up and multitudinous +division of the higher peaks, and the smallness of the slopes by which +they usually rise. We may, therefore, build up the mountain as high as +we please, but we must do it in nature's way, and not in impossible +peaks and precipices; not but that a daring feature is admissible here +and there, as the Matterhorn is admitted by nature; but we must not +compose a picture out of such exceptions; we may use them, but they must +be as exceptions exhibited. I shall have much to say, when we come to +treat of the sublime, of the various modes of treating mountain form, so +that at present I shall only point to an unfortunate instance of +inexcusable and effectless exaggeration in the distance of Turner's +vignette to Milton, (the temptation on the mountain,) and desire the +reader to compare it with legitimate exaggeration, in the vignette to +the second part of Jacqueline, in Rogers's poems. + + +Sec. 21. Thirdly, necessary in expression of characteristic features on + diminished scale. + +Another kind of exaggeration is necessary to retain the characteristic +impressions of nature on reduced scale, it is not possible, for +instance, to give the leafage of trees in its proper proportion, when +the trees represented are large, without entirely losing their grace of +form and curvature; of this the best proof is found in the Calotype or +Daguerreotype, which fail in foliage, not only because the green rays +are ineffective, but because, on the small scale of the image, the +reduced leaves lose their organization, and look like moss attached to +sticks. In order to retain, therefore, the character of flexibility and +beauty of foliage, the painter is often compelled to increase the +proportionate size of the leaves, and to arrange them in generic +masses. Of this treatment compare the grand examples throughout the +Liber Studiorum. It is by such means only that the ideal character of +objects is to be preserved; as we before observed in the 13th chapter of +the first section. In all these cases exaggeration is only lawful as the +sole means of arriving at truth of impression when strict fidelity is +out of the question. + +Other modes of exaggeration there are, on which I shall not at present +farther insist, the proper place for their discussion being in treating +of the sublime, and these which I have at present instanced are enough +to establish the point at issue, respecting imaginative verity, inasmuch +as we find that exaggeration itself, if imaginative, is referred to +principles of truth, and of actual being. + + +Sec. 22. Recapitulation. + +We have now, I think, reviewed the various modes in which imagination +contemplative may be exhibited in art, and arrived at all necessary +certainties respecting the essence of the faculty: which we have found +in all its three functions, associative of truth, penetrative of truth, +and contemplative of truth; and having no dealings nor relations with +any kind of falsity. One task, however, remains to us, namely, to +observe the operation of the theoretic and imaginative faculties +together, in the attempt at realization to the bodily sense of beauty +supernatural and divine. + + +FOOTNOTES + + [70] Let it not be supposed that I mean to compare the sickly + dreaming of Shelley over clouds and waves with the masculine and + magnificent grasp of men and things which we find in Scott; it only + happens that these two passages are more illustrative, by the + likeness of the scenery they treat, than any others I could have + opposed; and that Shelley is peculiarly distinguished by the faculty + of contemplative imagination. Scott's healthy and truthful feeling + would not allow him to represent the benighted hunter provoked by + loss of game, horse, and way at once, as indulging in any more + exalted flights of imagination than those naturally consequent on + the contrast between the night's lodging he expected, and that which + befitted him. + + [71] I do not mean to withdraw the praise I have given, and shall + always be willing to give such pictures as the Old Shepherd's Chief + Mourner, and to all in which the character and inner life of animals + are developed. But all lovers of art must regret to find Mr. + Landseer wasting his energies on such inanities as the "Shoeing," + and sacrificing color, expression, and action, to an imitation of + glossy hide. + + [72] I have not brought forward any instances of the imaginative + power in architecture, as my object is not at present to exhibit its + operation in all matter, but only to define its essence; but it may + be well to note, in our own new houses of Parliament, how far a + building approved by a committee of Taste, may proceed without + manifestation either of imagination or composition; it remains to be + seen how far the towers may redeem it; and I allude to it at present + unwillingly, and only in the desire of influencing, so far as I may, + those who have the power to prevent the adoption of a design for a + bridge to take place of Westminster, which was exhibited in 1844 at + the Royal Academy, professing to be in harmony with the new + building, but which was fit only to carry a railroad over a canal. + + [73] Comp. Ch. V. Sec. 5. + + [74] All the clouds of Tintoret are sublime; the worst that I know + in art are Correggio's, especially in the Madonna della Scudella, + and Dome of Parma. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + OF THE SUPERHUMAN IDEAL. + + +Sec. 1. The subject is not to be here treated in detail. + +In our investigation in the first section of the laws of beauty, we +confined ourselves to the observation of lower nature, or of humanity. +We were prevented from proceeding to deduce conclusions respecting +divine ideality by our not having then established any principles +respecting the imaginative faculty, by which, under the discipline of +the theoretic, such ideality is conceived. I had purposed to conclude +the present section by a careful examination of this subject; but as +this is evidently foreign to the matter immediately under discussion, +and involves questions of great intricacy respecting the development of +mind among those pagan nations who are supposed to have produced high +examples of spiritual ideality, I believe it will be better to delay +such inquiries until we have concluded our detailed observation of the +beauty of visible nature; and I shall therefore at present take notice +only of one or two broad principles, which were referred to, or implied, +in the chapter respecting the human ideal, and without the enunciation +of which, that chapter might lead to false conclusions. + + +Sec. 2. The conceivable modes of manifestation of Spiritual Beings are + four. + +There are four ways in which beings supernatural may be conceived as +manifesting themselves to human sense. The first, by external types, +signs, or influences; as God to Moses in the flames of the bush, and to +Elijah in the voice of Horeb. + +The second, by the assuming of a form not properly belonging to them; as +the Holy Spirit of that of a Dove, the second person of the Trinity of +that of a Lamb; and so such manifestations, under angelic or other form, +of the first person of the Trinity, as seem to have been made to +Abraham, Moses, and Ezekiel. + +The third, by the manifestation of a form properly belonging to them, +but not necessarily seen; as of the Risen Christ to his disciples when +the doors were shut. And the fourth, by their operation on the human +form, which they influence or inspire, as in the shining of the face of +Moses. + + +Sec. 3. And these are in or through creature forms familiar to us. + +It is evident that in all these cases, wherever there is form at all, it +is the form of some creature to us known. It is no new form peculiar to +spirit nor can it be. We can conceive of none. Our inquiry is simply, +therefore, by what modifications those creature forms to us known, as of +a lamb, a bird, or a human creature, may be explained as signs or +habitations of Divinity, or of angelic essence, and not creatures such +as they seem. + + +Sec. 4. Supernatural character may be impressed on these either by + phenomena inconsistent with their common nature, (compare chap. + 4, Sec. 16). + +This may be done in two ways. First, by effecting some change in the +appearance of the creature inconsistent with its actual nature, as by +giving it colossal size, or unnatural color, or material, as of gold, or +silver, or flame, instead of flesh, or by taking away its property of +matter altogether, and forming it of light or shade, or in an +intermediate step, of cloud, or vapor; or explaining it by terrible +concomitant circumstances, as of wounds in the body, or strange lights +and seemings round about it; or by joining of two bodies together as in +angels' wings. Of all which means of attaining supernatural character +(which though, in their nature ordinary and vulgar, are yet effective +and very glorious in mighty hands) we have already seen the limits in +speaking of the imagination. + + +Sec. 5. Or by inherent Dignity. + +But the second means of obtaining supernatural character is that with +which we are now concerned, namely, retaining the actual form in its +full and material presence, and without aid from any external +interpretation whatsoever, to raise that form by mere inherent dignity +to such a pitch of power and impressiveness as cannot but assert and +stamp it for superhuman. + +On the north side of the Campo Santo at Pisa, are a series of paintings +from the Old Testament History by Benozzo Gozzoli. In the earlier of +these, angelic presences, mingled with human, occur frequently, +illustrated by no awfulness of light, nor incorporeal tracing. Clear +revealed they move, in human forms, in the broad daylight and on the +open earth, side by side, and hand in hand with men. But they never miss +of the angel. + +He who can do this has reached the last pinnacle and utmost power of +ideal, or any other art. He stands in no need thenceforward, of cloud, +nor lightning, nor tempest, nor terror of mystery. His sublime is +independent of the elements. It is of that which shall stand when they +shall melt with fervent heat, and light the firmament when the sun is as +sackcloth of hair. + + +Sec. 6. 1st. Of the expression of Inspiration. + +Let us consider by what means this has been effected, so far as they are +by analysis traceable; and that is not far, for here, as always, we find +that the greater part of what has been rightly accomplished has been +done by faith and intense feeling, and cannot, by aid of any rules or +teaching, be either tried, estimated, or imitated. + +And first, of the expression of supernatural influence on forms actually +human, as of sibyl or prophet. It is evident that not only here is it +unnecessary, but we are not altogether at liberty to trust for +expression to the utmost ennobling of the human form: for we cannot do +more than this, when that form is to be the actual representation, and +not the recipient of divine presence. Hence, in order to retain the +actual humanity definitely, we must leave upon it such signs of the +operation of sin and the liability to death as are consistent with +human ideality, and often more than these, definite signs of immediate +and active evil, when the prophetic spirit is to be expressed in men +such as were Saul and Balaam; neither may we ever, with just +discrimination, touch the utmost limits of beauty in human form when +inspiration is to be expressed, and not angelic or divine being; of +which reserve and subjection the most instructive instances are found in +the works of Angelico, who invariably uses inferior types for the +features of humanity, even glorified, (excepting always the Madonna,) +nor ever exerts his full power of beauty either in feature or +expression, except in angels or in the Madonna or in Christ. Now the +expression of spiritual influence without supreme elevation of the +bodily type we have seen to be a work of imagination penetrative, and we +found it accomplished by Michael Angelo; but I think by him only. I am +aware of no one else who, to my mind, has expressed the inspiration of +prophet or sibyl; this, however, I affirm not, but shall leave to the +determination of the reader, as the principles at present to be noted +refer entirely to that elevation of the creature form necessary when it +is actually representative of a spiritual being. + +Sec. 7. No representation of that which is more than creature is possible. + + +I have affirmed in the conclusion of the first section that "of that +which is more than creature, no creature ever conceived." I think this +almost self-evident, for it is clear that the illimitableness of Divine +attributes cannot be by matter represented, (though it may be typefied,) +and I believe that all who are acquainted with the range of sacred art +will admit, not only that no representation of Christ has ever been even +partially successful, but that the greatest painters fall therein below +their accustomed level; Perugino and Fra Angelico especially; Leonardi +has I think done best, but perhaps the beauty of the fragment left at +Milan, (for in spite of all that is said of repainting and destruction, +that Cenacolo is still the finest in existence) is as much dependent on +the very untraceableness resulting from injury as on its original +perfection. Of more daring attempts at representation of Divinity we +need not speak; only this is to be noted respecting them, that though by +the ignorant Romanists many such efforts were made under the idea of +actual representation, (note the way in which Cellini speaks of the seal +made for the Pope,) by the nobler among them I suppose they were +intended, and by us at any rate they may always be received, as mere +symbols, the noblest that could be employed, but as much symbols still +as a triangle, or the Alpha and Omega; nor do I think that the most +scrupulous amongst Christians ought to desire to exchange the power +obtained by the use of this symbol in Michael Angelo's creation of Adam +and of Eve for the effect which would be produced by the substitution of +a triangle or any other sign in place of it. Of these efforts then we +need reason no farther, but may limit ourselves to considering the +purest modes of giving a conception of superhuman but still creature +form, as of angels; in equal rank with whom, perhaps, we may without +offence place the mother of Christ: at least we must so regard the type +of the Madonna in receiving it from Romanist painters.[75] + + +Sec. 8. Supernatural character expressed by modification of accessories. + +And first, much is to be done by right modification of accessory +circumstances, so as to express miraculous power exercised over them by +the spiritual creature. There is a beautiful instance of this in John +Bellini's picture of St. Jerome at Venice. The saint sits upon a rock, +his grand form defined against clear green open sky; he is reading, a +noble tree springs out of a cleft in the rock, bends itself suddenly +back to form a rest for the volume, then shoots up into the sky. There +is something very beautiful in this obedient ministry of the lower +creature; but be it observed that the sweet feeling of the whole depends +upon the service being such as is consistent with its nature. It is not +animated, it does not _listen_ to the saint, nor bend itself towards him +as if in affection, this would have been mere fancy, illegitimate and +effectless. But the simple bend of the trunk to receive the book is +miraculous subjection of the true nature of the tree; it is therefore +imaginative, and very touching. + + +Sec. 9. Landscape of the religious painters. Its character is eminently + symmetrical. + +It is not often however that the religious painters even go this length; +they content themselves usually with impressing on the landscape perfect +symmetry and order, such as may seem consistent with, or induced by the +spiritual nature they would represent. All signs of decay, disturbance, +and imperfection, are also banished; and in doing this it is evident +that some unnaturalness and singularity must result, inasmuch as there +are no veritable forms of landscape but express or imply a state of +progression or of imperfection All mountain forms are seen to be +produced by convulsion and modelled by decay; the finer forms of cloud +have stories in them about storm; all forest grouping is wrought out +with varieties of strength and growth among its several members, and +bears evidences of struggle with unkind influences. All such appearances +are banished in the supernatural landscape; the trees grow straight, +equally branched on each side, and of such slight and feathery frame as +shows them never to have encountered blight or frost or tempest. The +mountains stand up in fantastic pinnacles; there is on them no trace of +torrent, no scathe of lightning; no fallen fragments encumber their +foundations, no worn ravines divide their flanks; the seas are always +waveless, the skies always calm, crossed only by fair, horizontal, +lightly wreathed, white clouds. + + +Sec. 10. Landscape of Benozzo Gozzoli. + +In some cases these conditions result partly from feeling, partly from +ignorance of the facts of nature, or incapability of representing them, +as in the first type of the treatment found in Giotto and his school; in +others they are observed on principle, as by Benozzo Gozzoli, Perugino, +and Raffaelle. There is a beautiful instance by the former in the +frescoes of the Ricardi palace, where behind the adoring angel groups +the landscape is governed by the most absolute symmetry; roses and +pomegranates, their leaves drawn to the last rib and vein, twine +themselves in fair and perfect order about delicate trellises; broad +stone pines and tall cypresses overshadow them, bright birds hover here +and there in the serene sky, and groups of angels, hand joined with +hand, and wing with wing, glide and float through the glades of the +unentangled forest. But behind the human figures, behind the pomp and +turbulence of the Kingly procession descending from the distant hills +the spirit of the landscape is changed. Severer mountains rise in the +distance, ruder prominences and less flowery vary the nearer ground, and +gloomy shadows remain unbroken beneath the forest branches. + + +Sec. 11. Landscape of Perugino and Raffaelle. + +The landscape of Perugino, for grace, purity and as much of nature as is +consistent with the above-named conditions, is unrivalled; and the more +interesting because in him certainly whatever limits are set to the +rendering of nature proceed not from incapability. The sea is in the +distance almost always, then some blue promontories and undulating dewy +park ground, studded with glittering trees; in the landscape of the +fresco in St^a. Maria Maddalena at Florence there is more variety than +is usual with him; a gentle river winds round the bases of rocky hills, +a river like our own Wye or Tees in their loveliest reaches; level +meadows stretch away on its opposite side; mounds set with +slender-stemmed foliage occupy the nearer ground, a small village with +its simple spire peeps from the forest at the bend of the valley, and it +is remarkable that in architecture thus employed neither Perugino nor +any other of the ideal painters ever use Italian forms but always +Transalpine, both of church and castle. The little landscape which forms +the background of his own portrait in the Uffizii is another highly +finished and characteristic example. The landscape of Raffaelle was +learned from his father, and continued for some time little modified, +though expressed with greater refinement. It became afterwards +conventional and poor, and in some cases altogether meaningless. The +haystacks and vulgar trees behind the St. Cecilia at Bologna form a +painful contrast to the pure space of mountain country in the Perugino +opposite.[76] + + +Sec. 12. Such Landscape is not to be imitated. + +In all these cases, while I would uphold the landscape thus employed and +treated, as worthy of all admiration, I should be sorry to advance it +for imitation. What is right in its mannerism arose from keen feeling in +the painter: imitated without the same feeling, it would be painful; the +only safe mode of following in such steps is to attain perfect knowledge +of nature herself, and then to suffer our own feelings to guide us in +the selection of what is fitting for any particular purpose. Every +painter ought to paint what he himself loves, not what others have +loved; if his mind be pure and sweetly toned, what he loves will be +lovely; if otherwise, no example can guide his selection, no precept +govern his hand; and farther let it be distinctly observed, that all +this mannered landscape is only right under the supposition of its being +a background to some supernatural presence; behind mortal beings it +would be wrong, and by itself, as landscape, ridiculous; and farther, +the chief virtue of it results from the exquisite refinement of those +natural details consistent with its character from the botanical drawing +of the flowers and the clearness and brightness of the sky. + + +Sec. 13. Color, and Decoration. Their use in representations of the + Supernatural. + +Another mode of attaining supernatural character is by purity of color +almost shadowless, no more darkness being allowed than is absolutely +necessary for the explanation of the forms, and the vividness of the +effect enhanced as far as may be by use of gilding, enamel, and other +jewellery. I think the smaller works of Angelico are perfect models in +this respect; the glories about the heads being of beaten rays of gold, +on which the light plays and changes as the spectator moves; (and which +therefore throw the purest flesh color out in dark relief) and such +color and light being obtained by the enamelling of the angel wings as +of course is utterly unattainable by any other expedient of art; the +colors of the draperies always pure and pale; blue, rose, or tender +green, or brown, but never dark or gloomy; the faces of the most +celestial fairness, brightly flushed: the height and glow of this flush +are noticed by Constantin as reserved by the older painters for +spiritual beings, as if expressive of light seen through the body. + +I cannot think it necessary while I insist on the value of all these +seemingly childish means when in the hands of a noble painter, to assert +also their futility and even absurdity if employed by no exalted power. +I think the error has commonly been on the side of scorn, and that we +reject much in our foolish vanity, which if wiser and more earnest we +should delight in. But two points it is very necessary to note in the +use of such accessories. + + +Sec. 14. Decoration so used must be generic. + +The first that the ornaments used by Angelico, Giotto, and Perugino, but +especially by Angelico, are always of a generic and abstract character. +They are not diamonds, nor brocades, nor velvets, nor gold embroideries; +they are mere spots of gold or of color, simple patterns upon +_textureless_ draperies; the angel wings burn with transparent crimson +and purple and amber, but they are not set forth with peacock's plumes; +the golden circlets gleam with changeful light, but they are not beaded +with elaborate pearls nor set with studied sapphires. + +In the works of Filippino Lippi, Mantegna, and many other painters +following, interesting examples may be found of the opposite treatment; +and as in Lippi the heads are usually very sweet, and the composition +severe, the degrading effect of the realized decorations and imitated +dress may be seen in him simply, and without any addition of painfulness +from other deficiencies of feeling. The larger of the two pictures in +the Tuscan room of the Uffizii, but for this defect, would have been a +very noble ideal work. + + +Sec. 15. And color pure. + +The second point to be observed is that brightness of color is +altogether inadmissible without purity and harmony; and that the sacred +painters must not be followed in their frankness of unshadowed color +unless we can also follow them in its clearness. As far as I am +acquainted with the modern schools of Germany, they seem to be entirely +ignorant of the value of color as an assistant of feeling, and to think +that hardness, dryness, and opacity are its virtues as employed in +religious art; whereas I hesitate not to affirm that in such art more +than in any other, clearness, luminousness and intensity of hue are +essential to right impression; and from the walls of the Arena chapel in +their rainbow play of brilliant harmonies, to the solemn purple tones of +Perugino's fresco in the Albizzi palace, I know not any great work of +sacred art which is not as precious in color as in all other qualities +(unless indeed it be a Crucifixion of Fra Angelico in the Florence +Academy, which has just been glazed and pumiced and painted and +varnished by the picture-cleaners until it glares from one end of the +picture gallery to the other;) only the pure white light and delicate +hue of the idealists, whose colors are by preference such as we have +seen to be the most beautiful in the chapter on Purity are carefully to +be distinguished from the golden light and deep pitched hue of the +school of Titian whose virtue is the grandeur of earthly solemnity, not +the glory of heavenly rejoicing. + + +Sec. 16. Ideal form of the body itself, of what variety susceptible. + +But leaving these accessory circumstances and touching the treatment of +the bodily form, it is evident in the first place that whatever typical +beauty the human body is capable of possessing must be bestowed upon it +when it is understood as spiritual. And therefore those general +proportions and types which are deducible from comparison of the nobler +individuals of the race, must be adopted and adhered to; admitting among +them not, as in the human ideal, such varieties as result from past +suffering, or contest with sin, but such only as are consistent with +sinless nature or are the signs of instantly or continually operative +affections; for though it is conceivable that spirit should suffer, it +is inconceivable that spiritual frame should retain like the stamped +inelastic human clay, the brand of sorrow past, unless fallen. + + "His face, + Deep scars of thunder had entrenched, and care + Sat on his faded cheek." + +Yet so far forth the angelic ideal is diminished, nor could this be +suffered in pictorial representation. + + +Sec. 17. Anatomical development how far admissible. + +Again, such muscular development as is necessary to the perfect beauty +of the body, is to be rendered. But that which is necessary to strength, +or which appears to have been the result of laborious exercise, is +inadmissible. No herculean form is spiritual, for it is degrading the +spiritual creature to suppose it operative through impulse of bone and +sinew; its power is immaterial and constant, neither dependent on, nor +developed by exertion. Generally, it is well to conceal anatomical +development as far as may be; even Michael Angelo's anatomy interferes +with his divinity; in the hands of lower men the angel becomes a +preparation. How far it is possible to subdue or generalize the naked +form I venture not to affirm, but I believe that it is best to conceal +it as far as may be, not with draperies light and undulating, that fall +in with, and exhibit its principal lines, but with draperies severe and +linear, such as were constantly employed before the time of Raffaelle. I +recollect no single instance of a naked angel that does not look boylike +or child-like, and unspiritualized; even Fra Bartolomeo's might with +advantage be spared from the pictures at Lucca, and, in the hands of +inferior men, the sky is merely encumbered with sprawling infants; those +of Domenichino in the Madonna del Rosario, and Martyrdom of St. Agnes, +are peculiarly offensive, studies of bare-legged children howling and +kicking in volumes of smoke. Confusion seems to exist in the minds of +subsequent painters between Angels and Cupids. + + +Sec. 18. Symmetry. How valuable. + +Farther, the qualities of symmetry and repose are of peculiar value in +spiritual form. We find the former most earnestly sought by all the +great painters in the arrangement of the hair, wherein no loosely +flowing nor varied form is admitted, but all restrained in undisturbed +and equal ringlets; often, as in the infant Christ of Fra Angelico, +supported on the forehead in forms of sculpturesque severity. The Angel +of Masaccio, in the Deliverance of Peter, grand both in countenance and +motion, loses much of his spirituality because the painter has put a +little too much of his own character into the hair, and left it +disordered. + + +Sec. 19. The influence of Greek art, how dangerous. + +Sec. 20. Its scope, how limited. + +Of repose, and its exalting power, I have already said enough for our +present purpose, though I have not insisted on the peculiar +manifestation of it in the Christian ideal as opposed to the pagan. But +this, as well as other questions relating to the particular development +of the Greek mind, is foreign to the immediate inquiry, which therefore +I shall here conclude in the hope of resuming it in detail after +examining the laws of beauty in the inanimate creation; always, however, +holding this for certain, that of whatever kind or degree the short +coming may be, it is not possible but that short coming should be +visible in every pagan conception, when set beside Christian; and +believing, for my own part, that there is not only deficiency, but such +difference in kind as must make all Greek conception full of danger to +the student in proportion to his admiration of it; as I think has been +fatally seen in its effect on the Italian schools, when its pernicious +element first mingled with their solemn purity, and recently in its +influence on the French historical painters: neither can I from my +present knowledge fix upon an ancient statue which expresses by the +countenance any one elevated character of soul, or any single +enthusiastic self-abandoning affection, much less any such majesty of +feeling as might mark the features for supernatural. The Greek could not +conceive a spirit; he could do nothing without limbs; his god is a +finite god, talking, pursuing, and going journeys;[77] if at any time he +was touched with a true feeling of the unseen powers around him, it was +in the field of poised battle, for there is something in the near coming +of the shadow of death, something in the devoted fulfilment of mortal +duty, that reveals the real God, though darkly; that pause on the field +of Plataea was not one of vain superstition; the two white figures that +blazed along the Delphic plain, when the earthquake and the fire led the +charge from Olympus, were more than sunbeams on the battle dust; the +sacred cloud, with its lance light and triumph singing, that went down +to brood over the masts of Salamis, was more than morning mist among the +olives; and yet what were the Greek's thoughts of his god of battle? No +spirit power was in the vision; it was a being of clay strength and +human passion, foul, fierce, and changeful; of penetrable arms and +vulnerable flesh. Gather what we may of great, from pagan chisel or +pagan dream, and set it beside the orderer of Christian warfare, Michael +the Archangel: not Milton's "with hostile brow and visage all inflamed," +not even Milton's in kingly treading of the hills of Paradise, not +Raffaelle's with the expanded wings and brandished spear, but Perugino's +with his triple crest of traceless plume unshaken in heaven, his hand +fallen on his crossleted sword, the truth girdle binding his undinted +armor; God has put his power upon him, resistless radiance is on his +limbs, no lines are there of earthly strength, no trace on the divine +features of earthly anger; trustful and thoughtful, fearless, but full +of love, incapable except of the repose of eternal conquest, vessel and +instrument of Omnipotence, filled like a cloud with the victor light, +the dust of principalities and powers beneath his feet, the murmur of +hell against him heard by his spiritual ear like the winding of a shell +on the far-off sea-shore. + + +Sec. 21. Conclusion. + +It is vain to attempt to pursue the comparison; the two orders of art +have in them nothing common, and the field of sacred history, the intent +and scope of Christian feeling, are too wide and exalted to admit of the +juxtaposition of any other sphere or order of conception; they embrace +all other fields like the dome of heaven. With what comparison shall we +compare the types of the martyr saints, the St. Stephen of Fra +Bartolomeo, with his calm forehead crowned by the stony diadem, or the +St. Catherine of Raffaelle looking up to heaven in the dawn of the +eternal day, with her lips parted in the resting from her pain? or with +what the Madonnas of Francia and Pinturicchio, in whom the hues of the +morning and the solemnity of the eve, the gladness in accomplished +promise, and sorrow of the sword-pierced heart, are gathered into one +human lamp of ineffable love? or with what the angel choirs of Angelico, +with the flames on their white foreheads waving brighter as they move, +and the sparkles streaming from their purple wings like the glitter of +many suns upon a sounding sea, listening, in the pauses of alternate +song, for the prolonging of the trumpet blast, and the answering of +psaltery and cymbal, throughout the endless deep and from all the star +shores of heaven? + + +FOOTNOTES + + [75] I take no note of the representation of evil spirits, since + throughout we have been occupied in the pursuit of beauty; but it + may be observed generally that there is great difficulty to be + overcome in attempts of this kind, because the elevation of the form + necessary to give it spirituality destroys the appearance of evil; + hence even the greatest painters have been reduced to receive aid + from the fancy, and to eke out all they could conceive of malignity + by help of horns, hoofs, and claws. Giotto's Satan in the Campo + Santo, with the serpent gnawing the heart, is fine; so many of the + fiends of Orcagna, and always those of Michael Angelo. Tintoret in + the Temptation, with his usual truth of invention, has represented + the evil spirit under the form of a fair angel, the wings burning + with crimson and silver, the face sensual and treacherous. It is + instructive to compare the results of imagination associated with + powerful fancy in the demons of these great painters, or even in + such nightmares as that of Salvator already spoken of, Sect. I. + Chap. V. Sec. 12 (note,) with the simple ugliness of idiotic distortion + in the meaningless terrorless monsters of Bronzino in the large + picture of the Uffizii, where the painter, utterly uninventive, + having assembled all that is abominable of hanging flesh, bony + limbs, crane necks, staring eyes, and straggling hair, cannot yet by + the sum and substance of all obtain as much real fearfulness as an + imaginative painter could throw into the turn of a lip or the + knitting of a brow. + + [76] I have not thought it necessary to give farther instances at + present, since I purpose hereafter to give numerous examples of this + kind of ideal landscape. Of true and noble landscape, as such, I am + aware of no instances except where least they might have been + expected, among the sea-bred Venetians. Ghirlandajo shows keen, + though prosaic, sense of nature in that view of Venice behind an + Adoration of Magi in the Uffizii, but he at last walled himself up + among gilded entablatures. Masaccio indeed has given one grand + example in the fresco of the Tribute Money, but its color is now + nearly lost. + + [77] I know not anything in the range of art more unspiritual than + the Apollo Belvidere; the raising of the fingers of the right hand + in surprise at the truth of the arrow is altogether human, and would + be vulgar in a prince, much more in a deity. The sandals destroy the + divinity of the foot, and the lip is curled with mortal passion. + + + + + ADDENDA. + + +Although the plan of the present portion of this work does not admit of +particular criticism, it will neither be useless nor irrelevant to refer +to one or two works, lately before the public, in the Exhibitions of the +Royal Academy, which either illustrate, or present exceptions to, any of +the preceding statements. I would first mention, with reference to what +has been advanced respecting the functions of Associative Imagination, +the very important work of Mr. Linnell, the "Eve of the Deluge;" a +picture upheld by its admirers (and these were some of the most +intelligent judges of the day) for a work of consummate imaginative +power; while it was pronounced by the public journals to be "a chaos of +unconcocted color." If the writers for the press had been aware of the +kind of study pursued by Mr. Linnell through many laborious years, +characterized by an observance of nature scrupulously and minutely +patient, directed by the deepest sensibility, and aided by a power of +drawing almost too refined for landscape subjects, and only to be +understood by reference to his engravings after Michael Angelo, they +would have felt it to be unlikely that the work of such a man should be +entirely undeserving of respect. On the other hand, the grounds of its +praise were unfortunately chosen; for, though possessing many merits, it +had no claim whatever to be ranked among productions of Creative art. It +would perhaps be difficult to point to a work so exalted in feeling, and +so deficient in invention. The sky had been strictly taken from nature, +this was evident at a glance; and as a study of sky it was every way +noble. To the purpose of the picture it hardly contributed; its +sublimity was that of splendor, not of terror; and its darkness that of +retreating, not of gathering, storm. The features of the landscape were +devoid alike of variety and probability; the division of the scene by +the central valley and winding river at once theatrical and commonplace; +and the foreground, on which the light was intense, alike devoid of +dignity in arrangement, and of interest in detail. + +The falseness or deficiency of color in the works of Mr. Landseer has +been remarked above. The writer has much pleasure in noticing a very +beautiful exception in the picture of the "Random Shot," certainly the +most successful rendering he has ever seen of the hue of snow under warm +but subdued light. The subtlety of gradation from the portions of the +wreath fully illumined, to those which, feebly tinged by the horizontal +rays, swelled into a dome of dim purple, dark against the green evening +sky; the truth of the blue shadows, with which this dome was barred, and +the depth of delicate color out of which the lights upon the footprints +were raised, deserved the most earnest and serious admiration; proving, +at the same time, that the errors in color, so frequently to be +regretted in the works of the painter, are the result rather of +inattention than of feeble perception. A curious proof of this +inattention occurs in the disposition of the shadows in the background +of the "Old Cover Hack," No. 229. One of its points of light is on the +rusty iron handle of a pump, in the shape of an S. The sun strikes the +greater part of its length, illuminating the perpendicular portion of +the curve; yet shadow is only cast on the wall behind by the returning +portion of the lower extremity. A smile may be excited by the notice of +so trivial a circumstance; but the simplicity of the error renders it +the more remarkable, and the great masters of chiaroscuro are accurate +in all such minor points; a vague sense of greater truth results from +this correctness, even when it is not in particulars analyzed or noted +by the observer. In the small but very valuable Paul Potter in Lord +Westminster's collection, the body of one of the sheep under the hedge +is for the most part in shadow, but the sunlight touches the extremity +of the back. The sun is low, and the shadows feeble and distorted; yet +that of the sunlighted fleece is cast exactly in its true place and +proportion beyond that of the hedge. The spectator may not observe this; +yet, unobserved, it is one of the circumstances which make him feel the +picture to be full of sunshine. + +As an example of perfect color, and of the most refined handling ever +perhaps exhibited in animal painting, the Butcher's Dog in the corner of +Mr. Mulready's "Butt," No. 160, deserved a whole room of the Academy to +himself. This, with the spaniel in the "Choosing the Wedding Gown," and +the two dogs in the hayfield subject (Burchell and Sophia), displays +perhaps the most wonderful, because the most dignified, finish in the +expression of anatomy and covering--of muscle and hide at once, and +assuredly the most perfect unity of drawing and color, which the entire +range of ancient and modern art can exhibit. Albert Durer is indeed the +only rival who might be suggested; and, though greater far in +imagination, and equal in draughtsmanship, Albert Durer was less true +and less delicate in hue. In sculpturesque arrangement both masters show +the same degree of feeling: any of these dogs of Mulready might be taken +out of the canvas and cut in alabaster, or, perhaps better, struck upon +a coin. Every lock and line of the hair has been grouped as it is on a +Greek die; and if this not always without some loss of ease and of +action, yet this very loss is ennobling, in a period when all is +generally sacrificed to the great coxcombry of art, the affectation of +ease. + +Yet Mr. Mulready himself is not always free from affectation of some +kind; mannerism, at least, there is in his treatment of tree trunks. +There is a ghastliness about his labored anatomies of them, as well as a +want of specific character. Why need they be always flayed? The hide of +a beech tree, or of a birch or fir, is nearly as fair a thing as an +animal's; glossy as a dove's neck barred with black like a zebra, or +glowing in purple grey and velvet brown like furry cattle in sunset. Why +not paint these as Mr. Mulready paints other things, as they are? That +simplest, that deepest of all secrets, which gives such majesty to the +ragged leaves about the edges of the pond in the "Gravel-pit." (No. +125.), and imparts a strange interest to the grey ragged urchins +disappearing behind the bank, that bank so low, so familiar, so sublime! +What a contrast between the deep sentiment of that commonest of all +common, homeliest of all homely, subjects, and the lost sentiment of Mr. +Stanfield's "Amalfi" the chief landscape of the year, full of exalted +material, and mighty crags, and massy seas, grottoes, precipices, and +convents, fortress-towers and cloud-capped mountains, and all in vain, +merely because that same simple secret has been despised; because +nothing there is painted as it is! The picture was a most singular +example of the scenic assemblage of contradictory theme which is +characteristic of Picturesque, as opposed to Poetical, composition. The +lines chosen from Rogers for a titular legend were full of summer, +glowing with golden light, and toned with quiet melancholy: + + "To him who sails + Under the shore, a few white villages, + Scattered above, below, some in the clouds, + Some on the margin of the dark blue sea, + And glittering thro' their lemon groves, announce + The region of Amalfi. Then, half-fallen, + A lonely watch-tower on the precipice, + Their ancient landmark, comes--long may it last! + And to the seaman, in a distant age, + Though now he little thinks how large his debt, + Serve for their monument." + +Prepared by these lines for a dream upon deep, calm waters, under the +shadow and scent of the close lemon leaves, the spectator found himself +placed by the painter, wet through, in a noisy fishing boat, on a +splashing sea, with just as much on his hands as he could manage to keep +her gunwale from being stove in against a black rock; and with a heavy +grey squall to windward. (This squall, by the by, was the very same +which appeared in the picture of the Magra of 1847, and so were the +snowy mountains above; only the squall at Amalfi entered on the left, +and at the Magra on the right.) Now the scenery of Amalfi is impressive +alike in storm or calm, and the writer has seen the Mediterranean as +majestic and as southern-looking in its rage as in its rest. But it is +treating both the green water and woods unfairly to destroy their peace +without expressing their power; and withdraw from them their sadness and +their sun, without the substitution of any effect more terrific than +that of a squall at the Nore. The snow on the distant mountains chilled +what it could not elevate, and was untrue to the scene besides; there is +no snow on the Monte St. Angelo in summer except what is kept for the +Neapolitan confectioners. The great merit of the picture was its +rock-painting; too good to have required the aid of the exaggeration of +forms which satiated the eye throughout the composition. + +Mr. F. R. Pickersgill's "Contest of Beauty" (No. 515.), and Mr. Uwins's +"Vineyard Scene in the South of France," were, after Mr. Mulready's +works, among the most interesting pieces of color in the Exhibition. The +former, very rich and sweet in its harmonies, and especially happy in +its contrasts of light and dark armor; nor less in the fancy of the +little Love who, losing his hold of the orange boughs, was falling +ignominiously without having time to open his wings. The latter was a +curious example of what I have described as abstraction of color. +Strictly true or possible it was not; a vintage is usually a dusty and +dim-looking procedure; but there were poetry and feeling in Mr. Uwins's +idealization of the sombre black of the veritable grape into a luscious +ultramarine purple, glowing among the green leaves like so much painted +glass. The figures were bright and graceful in the extreme and most +happily grouped. Little else that could be called color was to be seen +upon the walls of the Exhibition, with the exception of the smaller +works of Mr. Etty. Of these, the single head, "Morning Prayer," (No. +25.), and the "Still Life" (No. 73.), deserved, allowing for their +peculiar aim, the highest praise. The larger subjects, more especially +the St. John, were wanting in the merits peculiar to the painter; and in +other respects it is alike painful and useless to allude to them. A very +important and valuable work of Mr. Harding was placed, as usual, where +its merits could be but ill seen, and where its chief fault, a +feebleness of color in the principal light on the distant hills, was +apparent. It was one of the very few views of the year which were +transcripts, nearly without exaggeration, of the features of the +localities. + +Among the less conspicuous landscapes, Mr. W. E. Dighton's "Hay Meadow +Corner" deserved especial notice; it was at once vigorous, fresh, +faithful, and unpretending, the management of the distance most +ingenious, and the painting of the foreground, with the single exception +of Mr. Mulready's above noticed, unquestionably the best in the room. I +have before had occasion to notice a picture by this artist, "A Hayfield +in a Shower," exhibited in the British Institution in 1847, and this +year (1848) in the Scottish Academy, whose sky, in qualities of rainy, +shattered, transparent grey, I have seldom seen equalled; nor the mist +of its distance, expressive alike of previous heat and present heat of +rain. I look with much interest for other works by this painter. + +A hurried visit to Scotland in the spring of this year, while it +enables the writer to acknowledge the ardor and genius manifested in +very many of the works exhibited in the Scottish Academy, cannot be +considered as furnishing him with sufficient grounds for specific +criticism. He cannot, however, err in testifying his concurrence in the +opinion expressed to him by several of the most distinguished members of +that Academy, respecting the singular merit of the works of Mr. H. +Drummond. A cabinet picture of "Banditti on the Watch," appeared to him +one of the most masterly, unaffected, and sterling pieces of quiet +painting he has ever seen from the hand of a living artist; and the +other works of Mr. Drummond were alike remarkable for their manly and +earnest finish, and their sweetness of feeling. + + * * * * * + + CORRECTIONS MADE TO THE ORIGINAL TEXT. + +Page 98: 'wherein the superioity' corrected to superiority. + +Page 129: 'Convent of St. Marks' corrected to mark's + +Page 159: 'had not been hoplessly' corrected to hopelessly. + +Page 218: 'in the landscape of the fresco in St^a.' originally S^ta. + +Page 226: 'alike devoid of dignity in arrangement' originally arrangemen + +Footnote 40: 'De la Poesie Chretienne', accented to be in accordance + with text. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Modern Painters Volume II (of V), by John Ruskin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN PAINTERS VOLUME II (OF V) *** + +***** This file should be named 29906.txt or 29906.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/9/0/29906/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Marius Borror 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. 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