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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77325 ***
+
+
+
+
+                       BERNINI AND OTHER STUDIES
+
+
+[Illustration: [Logo]]
+
+                         THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+                  NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS
+                        ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO
+
+                        MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
+                       LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
+                               MELBOURNE
+
+                   THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
+                                TORONTO
+
+[Illustration: PLATE I.]
+
+
+
+
+                       BERNINI AND OTHER STUDIES
+                                 IN THE
+                             HISTORY OF ART
+
+
+                                   BY
+                             RICHARD NORTON
+                      MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS, BOSTON
+
+
+                               =NEW YORK=
+                         THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+                     LONDON: MACMILLAN AND COMPANY
+
+                                  1914
+
+                         _All rights reserved_
+
+
+
+
+                            COPYRIGHT, 1914,
+                       BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
+
+           Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1914.
+
+
+                            =Norwood Press=
+                 J. S. Cushing Co.—Berwick & Smith Co.
+                         Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+                                PREFACE
+
+
+The essays presented in the following pages are the product of no hasty
+thought. I am grateful to the kind friends who have encouraged their
+publication, and to the publishers for giving them so attractive a form.
+
+The choice of illustrations has been difficult. It has seemed best,
+however, to reproduce in full the little-known sketches of Bernini
+showing the development, in his mind, of the design for the Piazza of
+St. Peter’s, and the sculptor’s models wrought by his own hands. For the
+rest I have thought that it would be more serviceable for the reader to
+have a few typical examples illustrating the main points of the text
+rather than a larger, and perhaps more confusing, selection of subjects
+from the almost inexhaustible wealth of available material. I am under
+deep obligation for the generous permission to include among the
+illustrations material in the Brandegee Collection (at Faulkner Farm,
+Brookline, Massachusetts) hitherto unpublished. The heliotype plates
+were prepared and printed under the direction of Mr. William C. Ramsay,
+of Boston.
+
+                                                         RICHARD NORTON.
+
+  LONDON, July, 1914.
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+
+                                BERNINI
+
+         I. AN ESTIMATE OF BERNINI                              3
+        II. A COLLECTION OF SCULPTOR’S MODELS BY BERNINI       44
+       III. BERNINI’S DESIGNS FOR THE PIAZZA OF ST. PETER’S    50
+
+
+                    ASPECTS OF THE ART OF SCULPTURE
+
+         I. THE ART OF PORTRAITURE, PARTICULARLY IN SCULPTURE  57
+        II. PHEIDIAS AND MICHAEL ANGELO                        93
+       III. A HEAD OF ATHENA FOUND AT CYRENE                  135
+
+
+                               GIORGIONE
+
+         I. PAINTINGS ATTRIBUTED TO GIORGIONE                 155
+        II. THE TRUE GIORGIONE                                172
+
+      INDEX                                                   215
+
+
+
+
+                                 PLATES
+
+
+                  PLATES I AND II. PORTRAITS OF BERNINI
+    NUMBER
+        I. Bernini. Pencil Drawing, by himself (p. 12);
+             Brandegee Collection                         _Frontispiece_
+                                                             FACING PAGE
+       II. Portrait, formerly thought to be of Velasquez,
+             probably of Bernini (p. 12, footnote 3);
+             Capitoline Gallery, Rome                                  4
+
+
+                     PLATES III-X. WORKS OF BERNINI
+
+      III. Æneas and Anchises (p. 16); Borghese
+             Collection, Rome                                          8
+       IV. David (p. 17); Borghese Collection                         12
+        V. Proserpina and Pluto (p. 17); Borghese
+             Collection                                               16
+       VI. Apollo and Daphne (p. 17); Borghese Collection             18
+      VII. Angel with the Crown of Thorns (p. 25); Church
+             of S. Andrea delle Fratte, Rome                          22
+     VIII. Angel with a Scroll (p. 25); Church of S.
+             Andrea delle Fratte, Rome                                24
+       IX. Saint Theresa (p. 30); Church of S. Maria
+             della Vittoria, Rome                                     30
+        X. Louis XIV (p. 39); Versailles                              38
+
+
+   PLATES XI-XXVII. SCULPTOR’S MODELS BY BERNINI; BRANDEGEE COLLECTION
+
+       XI. Female figure in relief, with helmet (p. 46,
+             No. 1)                                                   44
+      XII. Figure of Longinus, for St. Peter’s (p. 46,
+             No. 2)                                                   44
+     XIII. Putti, for the decoration of the piers in St.
+             Peter’s (p. 47, Nos. 3 and 4)                            44
+      XIV. Two saints, for the Ciborio in the Cappella
+             del Sacramento in St. Peter’s (p. 47, Nos.
+             5, 7)                                                    46
+       XV. Two saints, for the Ciborio in the Cappella
+             del Sacramento in St. Peter’s (p. 47, Nos.
+             6, 8)                                                    46
+      XVI. Bas-relief with half-figures (p. 47, No. 9)                46
+     XVII. Half figure of a Triton holding a woman on his
+             shoulders (p. 47, No. 10)                                46
+    XVIII. Study for the head of the St. Jerome in the
+             Duomo of Siena (p. 47, No. 11)                           46
+ XIX-XXIV. Models of Angels (pp. 47, 48, Nos. 12–21)                  48
+      XXV. Standing male figure in high relief (p. 49,
+             No. 22)                                                  48
+     XXVI. Oval bas-relief of the Virgin (p. 49, No. 23)              48
+    XXVII. Standing female figure, and standing Angel (p.
+             49, Nos. 24, 25)                                         48
+
+
+   PLATES XXVIII-XL. BERNINI’S DESIGNS FOR THE PIAZZA OF ST. PETER’S;
+                          BRANDEGEE COLLECTION
+
+   XXVIII. Orb, surmounted by a cross; outline of a
+             crucified figure (p. 51, Nos. 1, 2)                      50
+     XXIX. Outline plan of St. Peter’s church correlated
+             with a figure on a cross above lines
+             suggesting the colonnades (p. 52, Nos. 3, 4)             50
+      XXX. More complete correlation of the crucified
+             figure with St. Peter’s church (p. 52, Nos.
+             5, 6)                                                    50
+     XXXI. Outline elevation of north half of the facade
+             of St. Peter’s, with the colonnade (p. 52,
+             No. 7)                                                   52
+    XXXII. Sketches of the north colonnade (p. 53, No. 8)             52
+   XXXIII. More elaborate sketch of the north colonnade
+             (p. 53, No. 9)                                           52
+    XXXIV. Outline sketch of the outer end of the north
+             arm of the colonnade, treated as if in two
+             stories (p. 53, No. 10)                                  52
+     XXXV. Interior of inner end of north arm of
+             colonnade (p. 53, No. 11)                                52
+    XXXVI. Plan and elevation of the Cortile di S. Damaso
+             (p. 53, No. 12)                                          54
+   XXXVII. Façade of St. Peter’s, with both colonnades
+             treated as if in two stories (p. 53, No. 13)             54
+  XXXVIII. View looking east from the front of St.
+             Peter’s (p. 54, No. 14)                                  54
+    XXXIX. The Borgo, looking toward St. Peter’s (p. 54,
+             No. 15)                                                  54
+       XL. Correlation of the Piazza with the Orb (p. 54,
+             No. 16)                                                  54
+
+
+                        PLATES XLI-LI. PORTRAITS
+
+      XLI. Sheik-el-Beled, statue of wood, Fourth Dynasty
+             (p. 57); Boulak Museum, Cairo                            58
+     XLII. Sheik-el-Beled, head of statue shown in plate
+             XLI                                                      60
+    XLIII. Portrait, so-called Scipio type, now
+             identified as priest of Isis (p. 57); Museum
+             of Fine Arts, Boston                                     64
+     XLIV. Pericles (p. 78); British Museum                           66
+      XLV. So-called Menander (p. 82); Brandegee
+             Collection                                               72
+     XLVI. Periander (p. 82); Vatican Museum                          74
+    XLVII. Unknown Roman, terra-cotta (p. 85); Museum of
+             Fine Arts, Boston                                        78
+   XLVIII. Unknown old man, Roman (p. 85); Brandegee
+             Collection                                               84
+     XLIX. Antoninus Pius (p. 88); Brandegee Collection               86
+        L. Roman girl (p. 90); Museum of Fine Arts,
+             Boston                                                   88
+       LI. Sabina? (p. 90); Brandegee Collection                      90
+
+
+               PLATES LII-LIX. PHEIDIAS AND MICHAEL ANGELO
+
+      LII. Caryatid from the Erechtheum, Athens (p. 101);
+             British Museum                                           96
+     LIII. Madonna and Child, by Michael Angelo (p. 116);
+             Bruges                                                  100
+      LIV. The Victor, by Michael Angelo (p. 116);
+             National Museum, Florence                               106
+       LV. Bacchus with Satyr, by Michael Angelo (p.
+             116); National Museum, Florence                         112
+      LVI. Eros, by Michael Angelo (p. 118); South
+             Kensington Museum                                       118
+     LVII. Ares and other Divinities (p. 118); Frieze of
+             the Parthenon, Athens                                   124
+    LVIII. So-called Athena Medici (p. 119); École des
+             Beaux-Arts, Paris                                       126
+      LIX. Madonna and Child, by Michael Angelo,
+             unfinished (p. 131); Church of S. Lorenzo,
+             Florence                                                130
+
+
+                      PLATES LX, LXI. CYRENE ATHENA
+
+       LX. Profile view of head (p. 135); Cyrene                     136
+      LXI. Front view of head                                        144
+
+
+                PLATES LXII-LXIX. PAINTINGS BY GIORGIONE
+
+     LXII. The Judgment of Solomon (p. 172); Kingston
+             Lacy, England                                           162
+    LXIII. Adoration of the Magi, or Epiphany (p. 175);
+             National Gallery, London                                168
+     LXIV. Shepherd’s Offering (p. 180); in the Lord
+             Allandale Collection, London                            174
+      LXV. The Storm, gypsy woman and soldier in the
+             foreground (p. 181); Giovanelli Palace,
+             Venice                                                  180
+     LXVI. The Three Philosophers (p. 181); Vienna                   186
+    LXVII. Head of Christ bearing the Cross (p. 185);
+             Gardner Collection, Boston                              194
+   LXVIII. Portrait (p. 202); Wood Collection, Temple
+             Newsam, England                                         202
+     LXIX. Madonna and Child (p. 204); Vienna                        204
+
+
+
+
+                                BERNINI
+
+
+
+
+                       I. AN ESTIMATE OF BERNINI
+
+
+During the last hundred years there has come a great change in the
+feeling of most people towards the art of the different epochs of the
+Renaissance. Whereas our grandfathers and our great-grandfathers held
+Carracci and Guido and others of the same time in high esteem, we are
+now taught that these later men are of little value or interest in
+comparison with the artists of the fifteenth century, and even the most
+halting and stuttering “Primitive” is held of more worth than the more
+able masters of the seventeenth century. This change is natural enough,
+but betokens a lack of true understanding of the purpose and powers of
+the fine arts.
+
+The altered mental attitude in religious matters which renders most
+people incapable of feeling the appeal of the mystical fervour of the
+seventeenth century explains in a measure why the earlier work is
+preferred; and added to this is the effect of the development of
+archæological training which has given rise to an interest in the mere
+search for origins—a search that has done infinite harm in blinding the
+eyes of students to the fact that, for the world at large, it is far
+more important to see whither life is carrying us than from what slow,
+groping, and inexplicable protoplasm and haphazard chance it sprung. The
+teachers of our universities go on in their dull round, like Dervishes,
+repeating that the Parthenon was the most perfect expression of Greek
+art, and there are those who cannot see the beauty of the silver vases
+from Boscoreale because they choose to call them Roman. Without doubt
+there are many sound reasons for the purely archæological study of
+classic art, and recently a small but perceptive band of scholars has
+raised Roman art from the ignorant neglect into which it had fallen and
+given it the proper position due to any such able expression of great
+ideas; this justifies the hope that the worth of the later Italian
+schools will become once more manifest, not again to be forgotten.
+
+The idea that the art of any civilized people rises by a steady and
+constantly more perfect progression to one glorious peak of perfection
+and then falls by rapid and recurring blunders to a waste of meaningless
+effort is, I believe, due to the too frequent mistake of considering the
+monuments of the arts as separate entities and as self-ordained rather
+than as indices of vital currents of thought and life. The English
+dictionary is not synonymous with English literature. Nor does the
+will-o’-the-wisp phrase “art for art’s sake” mean that each work of art
+is a unique and inexplicable phenomenon. Its true meaning is that the
+artist, be he poet or sculptor or musician—no matter what form his art
+takes—finds the only adequate expression of himself in the forms and
+under the governance of the laws of the art which he follows. By so far
+as he follows these laws is his work intelligible to other men; by so
+far as he finds new combinations for the forms and new adaptations of
+the laws to meet the new circumstances of ever changing life is he
+original and great. When Shakespeare or Keats wrote a sonnet the verses
+were not produced by them merely for the sake of using a certain
+complicated formula of fourteen lines to make certain statements, nor
+when Pheidias carved the Athena or Praxiteles the Hermes was it merely
+with the idea of reproducing the human form in stone.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE II.]
+
+Had such been the motive of these poets and sculptors their results
+would have had small value; but each one of them had something to say
+that he could best express in the form chosen, some feeling towards life
+he wished to share with others, and in this outgiving he steadily sought
+to perfect the form that held his idea. The care he lavished on the
+verse and marble so that the expression of this thought might be the
+completest possible and truest to his idea, the delight in making his
+chosen art conform to the laws of language or of gravity, while at the
+same time it held the thought as a nest holds an egg, _that_ was art for
+art’s sake, and a very different matter from mere technical dexterity.
+
+All the arts are alike means of conveying ideas from brain to brain and
+from the past and forgotten generations to those not yet thought of. No
+one school ever told the whole truth, but only that part of it maybe
+which local circumstances enable it to see. Each of them, from the
+earliest which faded away before recorded time, to the latest which
+looks eagerly forward to to-morrow with the hope of new accomplishment
+and absorption in new truths discovered, is but as the searchlight
+casting its sharp-defined ray through the immeasurable dark. The flames
+of Priam’s pyre crimsoning the night which hung over the “topless
+towers” were not marked on the Argive hills, but the message was flashed
+hither and yon over the star-tracked sea, raising now hopes now fears,
+till at Mycenæ no answering flame was lit, but instead the young Phœnix
+was born.
+
+And as no one school can answer all the questions, so no one single
+pundit can tell all the truth even of his own school. In each honest,
+unshamming workman there is something of truth, something others long
+ago thrilled to or that others yet to come may also feel, something that
+he knows with a clarity and conviction not to be equalled by any other.
+In a sense he does express his time, but neither the artist nor any man
+else is merely the product of his time, and the truly great ones go
+ahead of it, following the gleam of the divine spark which each man is
+born with to shelter in his heart as best he may. If it keep alight, by
+God’s grace, his life becomes in truth art for art’s sake, and he is one
+of the successful runners in the torch race across the great divide of
+life that separates the hopeless past from the hopeful future.
+
+Of such there are many to spur on the weary and to guide the strayed
+back to the beacon path. In every man who has appealed to the masses,
+whose ears have rung and whose heart has swelled with the loud cries of
+“well done,” there is, be sure, something of the ultimate divine
+truth—some no mockery—some sincerity which heated in the fires of his
+soul and beaten with long pain and trouble on the anvil of his heart,
+shall be, if we can grasp it, a treasure undiminishing so long as we
+have breath to live.
+
+Such an one was Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini, whose life was almost
+coterminous with the seventeenth century (1598–1680). Honoured during
+life by three courts, and at that time court patronage was a very
+different thing to what it is now, he has of late been treated with a
+disregard which is unjustified, and has been blamed for faults which
+were not his. These false judgments can be traced back to the envy of
+some of his contemporaries, who on the one hand accused him of ignorance
+of the mechanics of his art and of stupidity of design, and on the
+other, oftentimes, did their best to copy him. But it gives us pause
+when we consider that notwithstanding the forces of jealousy backed by
+powerful influence that were brought to bear on him he remained in the
+eyes of artistic Italy during his sixty and more working years the
+“Michael Angelo of the seicento.” And this estimate of him, if we lay
+aside preconceived notions and formulas handed down to us by our
+parents, and look at his work with our own eyes and study it in the
+light of our own knowledge, will turn out to be the right one. Only the
+rash and heedless dare say of one who acquired such admiration in his
+own day that his work was poor and unworthy. And yet this is what is
+said. His style is said to be extravagant and artificial and his violent
+material effects are said to show that he was unable to express thought.
+Even the group of Apollo and Daphne is held to exhibit his ignorance of
+the proper domain of sculpture. It seems to me more likely that the
+judgment of the artists and critics of the seventeenth century is apt to
+be the correct one.
+
+What would be artificial in an artist to-day was not so in Bernini, but
+was, if we could see it and free our hearts from the bonds of tradition,
+the most honest and simplest expression of a genius who had a new
+message for those who would take the trouble to understand. Frequently
+his work is criticised for not conforming to the “severe laws” of good
+sculpture and in this criticism lies the common fallacy of letting
+personal taste usurp the place of critical judgment. There are, of
+course, laws of gravity, and of stress or strain to which a sculptor
+must conform because they are in the nature of the material he uses,
+just as there are optical laws which the painter should know; but there
+are no laws to fix what the artist may or may not represent or the forms
+which he should give to his representations. Personal taste is very well
+in its place, but it is not criticism; and severe laws are good training
+for our powers, but dependence on them leads to stagnation and not to
+discovery. Because the stage-coach follows the old gray road is it
+artificial of the aeroplane to soar through the trackless ether?
+Probably most critics, when they speak of severe laws as fixed and
+irrevocable, have in mind those followed by the Greeks of the fifth
+century B.C.—surely of no later time, for what of the violent material
+effects of Pergamon? But suppose portraits of the present-day business
+kings were carved according to the one-time valid classic laws?
+Strangely unlike the subject would such portraits be!
+
+There is nothing ultimately right in severity nor ultimately wrong in
+violence. The money-changers were not led from the temple by a ribbon
+round their necks. The pioneer and path breaker must be violent. This
+was Bernini’s work and purpose, and it is no more reasonable to blame
+him for the insincerity and stupidity of his followers than to blame
+Columbus for lynch law. As of many another, Bernini’s fame has been
+dimmed by the follies and shams of his would-be imitators. Many tried to
+imitate and surpass him, but it was not to be done. He had the quality
+of genius which is more than the power of taking infinite pains. That
+his pupils had, but they merely exaggerated the form of the outer husk
+of his work till it lost all semblance of truth and became nothing but
+untruth and error. In him was the divine spark, the light of which
+showed new worlds for sculpture to work in and the heat of which moulded
+his material into the eternal forms of beauty.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE III.]
+
+The study of Bernini is established on very strong foundations, and the
+misinterpretation of his aims is inexcusable; for we have sure records
+of every kind concerning him. From his surprising youth to his busy old
+age we can trace his progress and the development of his powers. Of all
+his numerous works scarcely one is lost, and such as have disappeared
+are of no importance whatever in comparison with what remains. The full
+account of his life was written by two contemporaries, one of them his
+son, and this is amplified by many letters and other papers—accounts of
+payments for his work, stories of his doings, plans for work sometimes
+never undertaken and other times finally accomplished by himself or his
+pupils, that have been turned up into the light after long sleep in
+Italian archives.[1] It is all before us, and each chapter of his life
+can be recalled from the Elysian fields. We grow eager with the same
+hopes, we feel despondent at the same broken faith and pledges, we grow
+interested in the same companionships, we rest after the same
+magnificent accomplishments, and to the end we are keen in search of new
+worlds to open up.
+
+Even the look of him we know; what the appearance was as he moved among
+the Popes and Kings, the Cardinals and Princes of Europe. What it was
+for a man they saw we too can see. What it was of a heart he felt
+dragging him on with engine throbs we can guess when our amazed eyes
+rest on the Saint Theresa, the bust of Louis XIV, or the throne in St.
+Peter’s. A strongly built, dark man, his thick hair whitening in old
+age, but the quick eye never losing its brilliancy and piercing glance.
+Of simple fashion in dress, as the pictures and drawings by himself and
+others show him, for all his love of rich stuffs and floating draperies.
+A ready and pleasant wit made him the best of company, though at times
+withdrawn into himself by some mystical absorption. For just as the
+great religious leaders, so the great artists are at times lifted by
+some ecstasy away from actual surrounding fact and lost in worlds only
+visible to their inner eye, and though visible never to be told of. At
+other times his spirits broke forth in irrepressible gaiety which though
+it might form itself as satire was never malevolent. Generous to a
+fault, and always ready to lift up a friend, he was implacable towards
+his enemies, and rightly showed them no mercy. He had the strength to be
+a good hater,—not feebly excusing hypocrisy and meanness because the
+hypocrite was weak or knew no better, but hating, not the poor miserable
+individual, but his qualities, and, to the best of his own power,
+destroying them. Proud and self-confident, but willing to answer
+questions or to explain what might seem faults. A lonely man; one with
+many acquaintances but few friends. Too sincere not to be shocked by the
+heartless brutishness of the woman he loved, too honest a workman not to
+be hurt by the attacks of envy, but never losing heart, always following
+his ideal and seeking to eternize the beautiful visions of his bright
+soul.
+
+There are many portraits of him, some done with pencil or pen or graver,
+others more elaborate oil paintings. They are the work of his friends,
+or done by himself, and show him at various periods of life from young
+manhood to old age. Naturally they vary in many ways, but the variance
+is for the most part in the details of the outer shell of the man. The
+thick dark locks of the youth give place to the thin gray hairs of the
+old man; the full cheeks grow sunken and wrinkles frame the piercing
+eyes; but in all the portraits certain characteristics remain constant.
+A pencil drawing in the Galleria Nazionale in Rome is the best of the
+youthful portraits.[2] It is by himself, done when he was some twenty
+years old. It shows a finely shaped head with thick, waving hair. The
+face is strongly modelled, and all the features noticeable; the nose
+large and slightly bent, the chin square and strong. Lips full and
+sensitive, but vigorous. Most noticeable of all are the eyes, large and
+dark, set rather deeply under heavy brows, looking straightly and sadly
+but imperturbably on the world. A face of power yet of sweetness. A man
+to ask after and to watch what he will do in this world. Rather older we
+see him in two drawings in the private collection of Prince Chigi in
+Rome.[3] Life was testing him severely we know, but the eyes are still
+steady, are still bright with the inner light that was leading him on,
+and the mouth is still sweet and undrawn.
+
+Of about the same time, or a little later maybe, is the oil portrait
+supposed to be by himself (though for this there is little proof), in
+the Uffizi.[4] No change yet in the character except in a strengthening
+and making permanent the good qualities of his youth. The man has found
+himself. Many years go by before we again see him face to face.
+
+In the Gallery of St. Luke[5] and in the possession of Count Andreozzi
+in Rome[6] are portraits of him in his last years, and a very fine
+pencil drawing by himself in the Brandegee Collection (Plate I). All his
+works were completed, his visits to the courts of Europe were over, he
+is the “Michael Angelo of the seicento,” and yet he is just as simple in
+his dress and pose as ever. Obviously a great man whose ideals were so
+much greater to him than what he had accomplished that no possible
+flattery could disturb the balance of his mental poise. One change there
+is in the face more to be remarked than the higher forehead and the
+fuller chin. The eyes are still bright and level, the mouth still as
+soft and strong, but the sadness of expression has gone. Had he
+realized, I wonder, that soon all the sorrows of life would be hidden
+and lost under the gray church floor? Though the glad light of the sun
+no longer shone upon his life his face is bright with a mystical light
+as of the ranging stars which for countless thousands of years have
+guided the feet of man.[7]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE IV.]
+
+It may be thought that I have given a fanciful interpretation to the
+change that came in his face from youth to old age, but it can be shown
+that some such thoughts as I have suggested moved him. About 1650, at a
+time when his enemies had attacked his work in St. Peter’s and caused
+him great financial damage and still greater hurt to his natural and
+proper pride, the idea came to him to carve an allegory that should show
+the ages what his feeling towards his critics, towards art and towards
+life truly was. Allegories in painting or sculpture are usually, owing
+to the fixed limitations of these arts, unintelligible, but no artist
+ever lived who could have done as well as Bernini in making clear his
+idea with the material he used. Even if we did not have his own words
+about this group his thought would be seen, for his amazing command of
+technique and his knowledge of statics made it possible for him to
+combine figures with a freedom rarely equalled, and thereby to express
+himself with an ease and fulness beyond the powers of most sculptors of
+any time. Only one of the two figures which were to form the group was
+ever finished, but there is a sepia sketch showing the whole
+composition.
+
+In it we see the winged figure of Time hovering above a beautiful woman
+from whose nude body he lifts a mantle. She is Truth; in her hand she
+holds an image of the Sun darting bright rays in all directions. This
+group meant much to him; was perhaps the most personal and truly
+expressive work he ever made, and till his death he kept it by him. In
+his will he says that not without reason has he kept this statue of
+Truth unveiled by Time which he wishes to remain for ever in the
+possession of his descendants who, as they look on it, may remember that
+the most lovely of the virtues is Truth and that if one works under her
+guidance Time in the end reveals her. Are the “severe laws” of the
+ancients any more severe than this rule Bernini held before himself and
+wished his descendants never to forget, and is it sensible because at
+first sight his work seems strange and unaccountable to damn it with
+such words as “fantastic” or “baroque”?
+
+The group was never finished, but in a dirty courtyard off the Corso in
+Rome, neglected as only the Italians know how to neglect such things
+till some outsider stirs their jaded appreciation to new interest, is
+the Discovered Truth. Time on hasty wings flies by, but as Bernini knew,
+Truth stays always, heedless of neglect, the fixed pole for all those
+who set their aim beyond the bounds within which their earthly eyes
+would prison them. And knowing this, it came to pass that his old face
+was lit with a peaceful smile as he came to the evening of life.
+
+Bernini’s work is of unusual variety, but the best of it falls into four
+classes. There are the wonderful groups illustrating old world myths
+that he produced in the full joy of life in his youth; there are the
+amazing religious monuments in which he embodied with unrivalled skill
+the mystical intensity of the religion whose chief priests he served;
+there are the superbly joyous settings for fountains which though the
+waters might dry up and cease to flow will still, so long as the stone
+lasts, echo their murmuring music; and there are the long series of
+magnificent busts on which he was employed from his very earliest days
+to his latest. He was besides author, painter, illustrator, and
+architect. I have no intention of cataloguing the long series of work
+his never idle hand produced, but wish merely to point out some of the
+forgotten beauties that he brought into being. In a measure, it is
+possible to trace the source of his inspiration and in lesser degree to
+foresee its outcome.
+
+His father, Pietro, a Florentine, was a sculptor of no mean power before
+him. His mother was of Naples, and in that southern, passionate city
+Gian Lorenzo was born in 1598 and there he passed his first years. Some
+day another Mendel may be able to establish what were the forces of
+Florentine and Neapolitan blood that lay dormant in his young brain, but
+for us is no such certainty, and we can only guess at the effect of the
+father’s artistic occupations and the mother’s quick blood. In 1604,
+when the boy was but six years old, his father moved to Rome, the city
+his son was destined to impress with his genius as no city but Athens
+has ever been impressed by a single artist. Working at first for his
+father, he was only fourteen years old when he drew to himself the
+attention of all the _connoscenti_ by two busts which, as Annibale
+Carracci said, any artist after years of work might have been proud to
+make. The admiration Bernini won for these works, to which I shall
+return, led, as was the good habit of those days, to the patronage of
+the Borghese pope, Paul V.
+
+In the Borghese villa, the ruined grandeur of which is still the chief
+pride of Rome, the young Bernini was surrounded by beautiful antique
+marbles, some of which he was called upon to restore. This familiarity
+with ancient sculpture, and this subjection in the task of restoration
+of his own spirit to that of classic masters, had a very marked effect
+on him—an effect which in its deepest sense lasted throughout his long
+life, though its more obvious and visible manifestation soon waned and
+faded away. That is to say, while his work at all times showed a perfect
+comprehension of some of the fundamental laws of the material out of
+which sculpture is formed, laws that were first clearly expounded by the
+Greeks, it is only in a few of his earliest, and for a youth miraculous,
+works that he shows a tendency to imitate classic form.
+
+Four wonderful works were produced for the Borghese family. The Æneas
+and Anchises (Plate III), the David (Plate IV), the Rape of Proserpina
+(Plate V), and the exquisite group of Apollo and Daphne (Plate VI). All
+these were finished when he was only twenty-seven. Realizing this, the
+comparison of him with Michael Angelo no longer seems exaggerated, but
+one sees further that no such comparison can perform the ordinary
+service of all such juxtapositions, which is to afford a scale of better
+or worse, for the two masters are supreme, each in his own individual
+and original way, and incomparable.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE V.]
+
+Opinion may easily differ in regard to the first three of the works just
+mentioned. To me the Æneas is the least pleasing and the David the least
+successful artistically. The faults of both may be in part due to the
+fact that in each case Bernini’s imagination was to a certain degree
+hampered by work of other men which he seems to have set himself to
+surpass, and even though it may be granted that he did surpass his
+models, he would have done better, as in the Proserpina and Daphne, to
+let his own genius lead him whither it would and ignore other
+suggestion. The models I refer to are, in the case of the Æneas, the
+Christ by Michael Angelo in Santa Maria sopra Minerva and for the David
+the Borghese Warrior now in the Louvre, both works of small merit.[8]
+The reason the Æneas seems to me unpleasing is because of the weakness
+and unheroic look of the faces and figures, but others may not feel
+this, and the skill of the group is undoubted. The lack of success in
+the David is due to a slight failure in understanding the Greek motive
+that Bernini was copying. Whether or not he had in mind the Borghese
+Warrior as he carved this figure is a matter of slight importance. He
+was in any case representing a single figure in a position of strongly
+marked action, a problem that Myron magnificently solved in the
+Discobolus. The Borghese Warrior is by no means so successful. The David
+would rival the Discobolus had Bernini not made one mistake. The figure
+is turned to the wrong side. As he stands, the right arm drawn back, the
+left hand holding the stone in the sling in front of the body, the sling
+must fall loose and dead, the body must again be flung forward and the
+right arm swung upwards before the youth can get the momentum to hurl
+the stone at his enemy. Had Bernini turned the figure the other way with
+the left hand behind and the right in front of the body, this sense of
+ineffectiveness in the pose would not have existed, and the whole body
+would have been tensely set at the moment of rest between the action of
+drawing back for the aim and the instantaneously following motion of the
+cast.[9]
+
+Though such slight criticism may be passed on these two works, the other
+two, the Proserpina and Daphne are not open to any similar attack. They
+are magnificent, and compel admiration even from those whose training
+would tend to limit their preferences to work of another type. Never was
+the spirit of the two stories more fully understood or more adequately
+rendered. Never was marble managed in more masterful fashion and given
+such flux and flow of life. One’s breath catches as one looks, for it
+seems no longer a work of art before one’s eyes, but life itself. There
+is the dark, passionate rape of Proserpine, her splendid soft body
+shrinking and twisting in the grasp of the undeniable, compelling God of
+the underworld. There is the sweet, sad loss of Daphne, her exquisite
+springtime figure fading and changing into the rustling silver leaves in
+fright at the too hasty claim of her lover. Her face is still lovely,
+though the wide eyes and open mouth show her fear, but is there nothing
+in her fear of loss of her dear pursuer? And what of him? Not to be
+thought of as Olympian brother to the cruel, forceful Pluto. His face
+and action betoken the tenderness that would save the woman he loves
+from the heartless folly she would thoughtlessly commit. In the one
+group the storm and rush of passion; in the other the tender restraint
+of love. Both purely Greek and classic, and both carved with such
+consummate mastery that we forget the marble and see only the dark
+Tartarean glow and hear only the whispering of the sad leaves.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE VI.]
+
+The perfection of technique displayed in the works of Bernini’s youthful
+years is obvious to anyone with the slightest knowledge of sculpture.
+His knowledge of anatomy must have been almost instinctive, while he
+used the chisel with an ease that few painters could rival with a brush.
+His understanding, too, of balance and composition and of the forms the
+marble could be given was a revelation, and infinitely enlarged the
+field of sculpture. As a mere group, the Daphne has never been
+surpassed, and Bernini himself recognised that, at least from the point
+of view of technique, none of his later works were any more marvellous.
+The spirit and character, however, of the later work are very different.
+It is worth noting that his method of production differs greatly from
+that of his predecessors. Hundreds of sepia drawings by him still exist
+which show the fertility of his invention and the labour he spent in
+getting the best design for his works. There are also many terra cotta
+models for his statues, and in all of these we see a directness in the
+way he approached his subject that differentiates him from the
+forerunners in the art. Among the Greeks, among the painters at least,
+it was not uncommon to think of the body and the drapery as separate and
+to draw or model the first entirely nude and then afterwards to put
+drapery over it. This habit was common enough during the Renaissance,
+and the studies of such men as Dürer and Leonardo show that it was not
+confined to the lesser men whose lack of skill and knowledge was helped
+by such double process.
+
+But among all the hundreds of sketches on paper and models in
+terra-cotta that are left us of Bernini’s work there is scarcely a trace
+of this method of procedure. He visualized each work in endless
+different ways, making rapid but most skilful studies of them all, but
+he saw the figure each time completed. The figures and drapery and
+setting were one indivisible whole to him, and his uncommon knowledge of
+anatomy, and the rare clearness of his mental vision, made it possible
+for him when the final form of the work was fixed upon to work at it
+from the outside inwards, and not, as in something built of blocks, from
+the inside outwards. And while his sketches differ in this regard from
+those of most other artists, the variety of them, especially the very
+numerous ones for the same monument, show the pitch of excellence to
+which art had arrived, for these sketches are no longer the record of
+the artist’s search to learn _how_, but of his eager search _how best_.
+Not that Bernini was unique in this. The fertility of invention of such
+men as Domenico Tiepolo is as that of a tree putting forth leaves, but
+no other artist illustrates these qualities and methods more completely
+and masterfully than our Gian Lorenzo.
+
+I have mentioned above the originality displayed by men such as Michael
+Angelo and Bernini. Many another name could be added to these two, but
+it is not of men I wish to speak, but of this quality of originality,
+this crucible from which the old is drawn forth new, this Spring season
+of the mind which clothes the old, dry stumps with fresh life. The word
+is so often misused about the artists of to-day that its real
+significance is lost and true originality is too often imitated by a
+cheaper, rottener stuff. Every one of us is original in some degree. No
+one, unless he be mentally dead, sees or feels or believes as his father
+or grandfathers did before him. It may be the old belief was more
+correct and the old eyes were sharper than the new. Only the purblind
+and myopic think that all the early stages were wrong and that the
+solitary Present is alone right. Were this so, how hopelessly wrong this
+same Present would soon be! What a hideous precipice of error would this
+life’s painful course appear! As in life, so it is in Art, and all
+artists are original who are genuine and honest, who are spurred on only
+by their ideals and their love for their work—who give up worshipping
+the xoana and idols of a past day. It may be suggested that there is
+little difference, or perhaps even none, between one’s own ideal and any
+other suggested to us by some wrought image, whether in stone or verse
+is no matter. But there is. There is the difference of life. The light
+of one is of the dying embers, but the light of the other is of the
+rising Sun which shows the path we follow till our feet grow slower and
+slower, till at the last they halt and stop fixed. While the idol
+remains but the symbol of the ideal it is right. When it becomes the God
+it is wrong, or when doubt has cut its roots and sapped its strength and
+we pay it service merely because to do so has become an easy habit. So
+it is we come to see that the originality of these artists was not mere
+novelty, but was truthfulness. It represents their beliefs, and what you
+believe you believe for yourself alone. It shows us what their real,
+sure-founded and enduring hopes and aims were. Mere novelty cannot be
+believed in because it is accidental. It has neither root nor promise of
+flower. It is the mirage of the salt desert, and it is this mere
+queerness, mere strain, mere novelty which is too often mistaken for
+originality. It is the paradox masquerading as the True Word. Just as
+this world whirls like a “fretful midge” through space, ever in the same
+track, a recurring course, but gradually unperceived moves elsewhither,
+so do the great artists revolve, and impelled not by their own
+wilfulness but by the power of the divine spark within them, slowly move
+forward. And among that splendid company is Bernini.
+
+The terra cotta studies in the Brandegee Collection[10] illustrate
+clearly Bernini’s originality and the power to which I have referred
+above, of seeing his visions in their completeness without having to
+painfully build them up. I do not mean to imply that each separate
+detail of his works was the same in his first vision of them as in their
+finished form. He worked at them assiduously, and perfected them with
+the greatest patience and care, but when they came into his mind they
+rose before him like ghosts from the tomb—vague but entire.
+
+It is noteworthy that most of these models are of angels, and as such
+represent the religious work by which Bernini is best known, and on
+which he was most often employed after his youth was past. By the time
+he was twenty-five years old he had been employed by three Popes, and
+before his death five others sought his aid and depended largely on his
+genius in their endeavours to beautify Rome and to render their own fame
+imperishable. These undertakings were of very various character, but the
+greater number of them, such as statues of Saints, decoration of
+chapels, altars and tabernacles, grave monuments of Popes and prelates,
+were done with religious purpose and may be called his ecclesiastical
+work. It is superb in its mastery, magnificent in effect, and while
+utterly different from anything that had been done before, gives the
+impression of complete and perfect sincerity. Though unlike earlier work
+and though the religion that inspired and made it possible has changed
+so that never again will an artist be able to give similar expression to
+his ideals, still there is no ground for considering it merely curious
+and the expression of insincerity or passing error. Anything that
+affected so many thousands of men, which they found beautiful and
+satisfying to their souls, must be in a measure true, must have in it
+some portion of ultimate wisdom. Silence or contempt towards it, any
+feeling but of sympathy with it, shows not a better knowledge but a
+duller understanding.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE VII.]
+
+During the sixteenth century a great change had come about in the way
+men looked at life. Discoveries were made of all sorts; on land for
+men’s feet to follow or in mathematics and philosophy for their souls to
+reach up to. Old dogmas became untenable and the roofs with which men
+had sheltered their heads became scaffolding on which they planted their
+feet. It was a time of revolution—the revolution of the wheel of life
+which advances as it turns. I have called attention to the fact that the
+artists in their search for the fullest possible expression of their
+thought often threw off dozens of designs for a single work before
+finding the one most adequate. Technique no longer hampered them in the
+slightest way, and they readily changed their mode in accordance with
+new views, no longer blindly following the old guides. The work of
+Titian is one of the most obvious illustrations of this. In his youth he
+followed, like the Indian, the steps of his leaders, but as he aged, he
+broke from them more and more, till at the end he arrived in a world his
+teachers could never have imagined. Bernini had a similar experience.
+
+One of the commonest complaints brought against Bernini is that he
+introduced the habit of decorating the archivolts or domed roofs of the
+churches with figures of angels fluttering about like great white birds,
+and in this complaint no distinction is made between the idea that
+underlay this scheme of decoration and the inappropriate and exaggerated
+use of it made often by his imitators. From the earliest times of the
+Renaissance, this scheme had been used. Bernini did not invent it. The
+Gothic portals and towers of France are crowded with figures of saints
+and kings, of angels and demons. In orderly ranks they guard the gates
+or singly spring into mid air from the balconies. In Italy the shepherds
+of the people stood in pulpits which rested on the strong shoulders of
+Christ’s soldiers or on the steady wings of the heavenly host, while
+high o’erhead (as in the Portinari Chapel in S. Eustorgio, Milan), a
+ring of winged figures, hand holding hand, danced and sang, and down the
+long aisles and in the dark chapels every sleeper in his stony bed was
+guarded by the faithful spirits.
+
+Why then find fault with Bernini and think he erred in doing what all
+the world found good? If Bernini is mistaken in putting marble figures
+above our heads, why excuse Correggio for the circling swarms with which
+he covered the church domes, or Michael Angelo for the cataract of
+figures with which he covered the Sistine Chapel? All such work must be
+considered for its suggestion, not from the point of view of its actual
+substance. Why, if the conventional and halting work of the nameless
+early artists is good, should the masterly work of Bernini be considered
+bad? Only because the modern world thinks it foolish to believe in
+anthropomorphic angels and having no belief, has lost the power of
+understanding symbols. And also the antagonism Bernini’s work arouses is
+due to the fad for the primitive and incomplete. The very lack of power
+that every early artist tried to rid himself of is now thought to be his
+chief value and grace, and as in the daily press a missing word puzzle
+attracts more attention than a sonnet so the halting early work finds
+more admirers than the later perfect art.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE VIII.]
+
+Perfect as they are, there is something more than anthropomorphism in
+Bernini’s angels. Earlier artists, even the best of the Florentines,
+when representing these heavenly messengers, almost always make them so
+solid and human that the wings are utterly inadequate, or else they
+suggest the body by a thin and shapeless swirl of drapery topped by a
+perfectly substantial head. In either case the result is unsatisfactory,
+for though the figures conform to the usual idea of angels as effeminate
+human forms with wings, the chief impression they make is of
+inconsistent and impossible anatomical combinations.
+
+They fail just as the archaic Greek centaurs with human feet fail. When
+one looks at Bernini’s angels, the two done in his youth for the altar
+of Sant’ Agostino, or the two for instance which he carved in later
+years for the Ponte Sant’ Angelo, but which were considered too
+beautiful to be exposed in the open air and are now sheltered in Sant’
+Andrea delle Fratte (Plates VII, VIII), or at the one which kneels on
+the left hand of the _Ciborio_ in the _Cappella del Sacramento_ in Saint
+Peter’s, one has no sense of unreality. The bodies are human in form,
+but spiritual in their lightness and grace. The wings are strong and
+large, and yet so feathery as to seem almost transparent. The drapery
+falls and clings to and fits the body as a cloud might, and the face and
+action express a perfect and soul-filling adoration that finds
+expression in tireless worship and unending song of praise. These are
+the true “sexless souls, ideal quires.”
+
+This same strong religious feeling is shown with equal certainty in
+other figures by Bernini which are better known than his angels. These
+are the figures of saints which he made in his middle and later years.
+The earliest of them, that of Santa Bibiana, done in 1626, when he was
+still a young man, shows in the arrangement and pose of the figure the
+influence of the antique. The technique exhibits the same magnificent
+ease and the same power of reproducing the various qualities of drapery
+and flesh and hair that we saw before in the Borghese groups, and there
+is in the face and gesture the expression of self-effacement in
+religious ecstasy that is the most noticeable quality of the later
+figures of this kind. As he grows older, these two characteristics of
+technical differentiation of surface and of ecstatic expression altered.
+While he lost no atom of technical power he tended to lay less stress on
+the appearance of the mere surface of his figures and to pay more
+attention to and show forth more clearly their mental condition. In
+doing this he brought into being figures as truly representative of the
+religion of his time as those of Michael Angelo or any other sculptor of
+any epoch.
+
+Religious emotion must always call forth strong feeling, but the
+strength is sometimes shown in terms of apparent restraint, at others it
+shows itself in violent action. Athena Parthenos is as emotional as the
+Santa Theresa and Savonarola, and Luther is as violent as the Crusaders.
+The seventeenth century was a time when men thought it no shame to show
+their feelings. The Puritans showed them as clearly as the Italians,
+though in a less pleasant form. If to-day it is difficult to realize and
+sympathize with the sentiment shown in Bernini’s Sant’ Andrea, or
+Daniel, or Maria di Magdala, it is not because of our superiority, but
+rather because we have lost a very precious sense and power of spiritual
+levitation. Look at the Habakkuk. Is it not a splendid presentation of
+the prophet who was burdened with the grievance which he beheld, who saw
+for so long the righteous compassed about by a “bitter and hasty” race
+that he felt the Lord would never respond to his cry? But even as he
+complains the visible answer of the Lord appears, and the Angel with
+playful tenderness pulls at his hair so that his face is upturned to the
+light of Heaven, not any longer dark with earth’s despair, as he bids
+him write the vision of the Lord’s judgment that shall not tarry—write
+it so that he may run who readeth. And Habakkuk still points to the
+iniquity that blackens the world and the angel points to the inevitably
+approaching woe. It is superbly original. It is deeply felt.
+
+The St. Jerome in the Duomo at Siena is another very striking figure; if
+it seems to most observers unpleasant, this is mainly because it does
+not conform to the conventional and uncharacteristic way they are
+accustomed to see Jerome represented. As a subject for artists he has
+been treated far more often by painters than by sculptors, and in the
+paintings the mere beauty of colour and of surroundings adds charms
+which are uncharacteristic of, and distract from, the real interest of
+the figure. When carved by Bernini, there is nothing but the figure to
+consider—whether it be suggestive of the real man as we know him by his
+writings or not. Probably most people if asked what image the name of
+the saint brought to their minds would recall the print by Dürer or some
+painting such as that by Catena in the National Gallery. But splendid as
+the print and the painting are, it is only by a pleasant fiction and by
+refusing to regard the truth that they can be thought to represent in
+any way the Saint as he was among men. They show a very gentle old man
+in the neatest and quietest of surroundings, peacefully writing his
+comments on the scriptures.
+
+It can hardly be supposed that his contemporaries regarded Jerome
+primarily as a peaceful and abstracted scholar. Surely Bernini did not,
+but instead shows us the unhappy wanderer and ascetic monk. Scholarship
+was only one phase, and among the people with whom he lived scarcely the
+most important phase of St. Jerome’s life. To his contemporaries he
+showed himself chiefly as an acrid controversialist taking a leading
+part in the “strife of tongues.” Unhappy in his Pannonian home, he spent
+a restless youth wandering over Europe, but instead of peace found only
+momentary forgetfulness in pleasures, the remembrance of which brought
+deep sorrow in his later years. Then he turned to asceticism and sought
+by living as an anchorite in the desert to conform himself to the
+teachings of his Lord. But the degradation of such a life, the unnatural
+and disgusting view it took of the image of his Maker and the temple of
+his soul, the morbid introspection and sterility of selfish
+self-mortification, brought him trouble and pain, not calm, till, at
+last, an old man, he died in Bethlehem thoroughly disheartened with the
+iniquity of the world and the horrors resultant on the destruction of
+Rome by the barbarians.
+
+Such is the man Bernini sets before us. The battered, wayworn feet; the
+strong, coarse body; the ragged, unkempt hair show the life he led. The
+face bending with closed eyes dreamily over the figure of the crucified
+Christ betrays his holy, misdirected zeal. What he was, and what he
+stood for, could not be shown more clearly than our sculptor has shown
+it here.
+
+Equally fine, and in certain ways more beautiful, is the statue of
+Daniel in the lions’ den, which Bernini made in 1656 for Cardinal Chigi,
+who placed it with the Habakkuk in Santa Maria del Popolo. The youthful
+and splendidly built figure rests on one knee, his hands upraised in
+attitude of prayer, his head bent back with eyes wide open gazing
+upwards. From one shoulder, beside his body and over his legs, falls in
+wind-blown folds a single heavy mantle. A great lion crouches behind
+him, licking his foot. In its perfect physical beauty, in its not
+over-emphasised anatomy and in its entirely successful composition, by
+which great movement is given the appearance of completeness and
+stability, the figure is more closely allied to Bernini’s earlier works
+than to the mystical passionate figures such as the Jerome or Mary of
+Magdala or others of this period. It is unnecessary to dwell on the
+beauty of the figure and the technical skill it displays, for these can
+be seen by anyone whose eye and hand have been trained at all.
+
+There is one less obvious point, however, to which I wish to draw
+attention, for it is as good an example as could be of what I have
+mentioned above. I refer to the way the legs show through the heavy
+drapery that covers them. The mantle does actually clothe the leg. It is
+not a mere addition. It takes its shape and movement from the leg
+beneath it. The one cannot be thought of without the other. Were the
+statue destroyed, and did only the right hip or left knee remain, one
+would instantly recognise what parts of the figure these were. But
+classic though the figure is in general appearance—it might almost be
+one of the Niobids—the feeling of absolute ecstatic faith is very
+clearly given in the upturned face and the reaching arms.[11] Now there
+have been times—great and noble times—when men did believe that God
+would send angels to shut the mouths of lions, and when men felt no
+fear, but only a carefree trust in His help if true innocency could be
+found in them.
+
+Such work is not baroque, nor decadent, nor over-emotional, as it is
+commonly and thoughtlessly said to be, but it is a very adequate and
+convincing representation of a powerful and uplifting spiritual
+condition. It is just as fine as the graver and more sombre figures of
+Greece, or as the sad and ponderous figures of Michael Angelo.
+
+Of all the figures of this period in Bernini’s development the most
+famous is the Saint Theresa (Plate IX). It is hopeless to express in
+words the great beauty of this figure. This can no more be done than the
+full perfection of any great poem can be rendered in a translation. The
+work is perfect in itself, and what of this kind can be shown in
+sculpture is here expressed with complete and ultimate adequacy. That
+most people are startled and shocked when they first see the figure is
+due to the fact that they do not think of what the scene really means,
+and they are not accustomed to seeing scenes of divine significance
+treated with perfect simplicity and pure faith.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE IX.]
+
+Not that such scenes ought not to be so treated, but few are the artists
+who feel deeply enough or whose technique is finished enough to enable
+them to represent a scene of this sort so clearly and beautifully. As a
+result, the artist falls back on forms which have been repeated so often
+that they have become conventional and no longer can give the beholder
+the full impression of their meaning. No one is offended on seeing the
+Son of God bleeding on the cross around which surges a host of idle
+spectators, or at seeing Him in the manger before which all the nobles
+of Florence kneel in various theatric attitudes. But Saint Theresa is a
+figure new to them, and to have her shown in the crisis of her ecstasy
+with other figures looking on from the walls of the chapel, offends
+their “sense of propriety” and seems “paradoxical,” “perfervid” and
+“inconsequent.”[12]
+
+Were this a fair criticism, a large number of the most beautiful works
+of Christian art would fall under the same condemnation. Far more
+paradoxical than Bernini’s figure are the representations of the
+Marriage of Saint Catharine, and they are quite as unpleasing if thought
+of in their literal sense. As for the figures looking at the Saint from
+the “opera boxes” at the sides of the chapel, it must be remembered that
+at this time most of the drama in Italy was founded on religious
+subjects, and such dramatic representation made a very deep appeal to
+men’s minds. The critics who find the Saint Theresa in bad taste do not
+hesitate to form part of the audience when Christ’s Passion is played
+among the hills of Oberammergau, and they will no longer be afraid to
+render Bernini the homage that is his due when they cease lazily to
+measure his work by conservative standards. The glory of a comet is not
+measured by the Eddystone Light nor a miracle by the conventions of
+ordinary society.
+
+One other point concerning this statue remains to be considered. A
+recent critic[13] says that “there are many ecstasies, and Bernini has
+chosen something that borders closely on the most displeasing.” In this
+he expresses a common opinion, based, I believe, on a misconception, and
+on ugly, puritanical prudishness. Possibly there are many ecstasies, but
+religious ecstasy, the ecstasy of the Saint in joining herself to the
+spiritual existence of Christ, and the pure and natural ecstasy of love
+when self is lost in the future of the race, are as nearly as possible
+identical. The Venus de Medici is far more displeasing than the Saint
+Theresa.
+
+In one portion of the group Bernini certainly did fail, and in a way
+that is surprising. Usually his figures of angels are successful, but
+the one standing over Saint Theresa is assuredly very bad. Its figure is
+unconvincing, and its face, with tilted nose and silly smile, is more
+that of a Greek _paniskos_ than of a heavenly messenger. But
+notwithstanding this blemish, no work by Michael Angelo or any other
+sculptor ever made the beholder forget so completely the substance out
+of which it is carved, and think only of the scene represented as
+Bernini has done here. He has given the softness of life to the
+snow-white stone. His hand and mind worked in perfect accord and
+produced a work unrivalled in technique and of very great beauty.
+
+Another statue of similar character is the Beata Albertona. It is a
+little less delicate in treatment and more emphatic in expression than
+the Saint Theresa, but is, none the less, of very great beauty and
+power.
+
+Were a man’s failures as worth study as his successes, I could mention
+works by Bernini which are distinctly bad. The Maria di Magdala is one.
+Though full of feeling, the figure of the Saint is coarse and clumsy.
+But though a man’s defeats show, of course, the principles for which he
+stood, his victories are more worth considering and are the fairest test
+of him. A very false estimate of Michael Angelo would result if one
+considered the Rondanini Pietà, the David, or the Christ in Santa Maria
+sopra Minerva as of equal importance with his other works.
+
+It was not only in works in marble that Bernini showed his power as a
+sculptor. He handled dark, impressive bronze with the same complete
+understanding of its qualities and possibilities that he showed in
+carving the gleaming Carrara marble. Such a work as the _Baldacchino_ in
+St. Peter’s is beyond any words to praise. It is enormous, but not
+clumsy, and sumptuous without being ornate. The most stupendous of his
+bronze works is not, however, the _Baldacchino_, but the Throne, the
+_Cattedra_ in the apse of St. Peter’s. It was in 1657, during the
+pontificate of Alexander VII, that Bernini was ordered to carry out his
+design for this work, and eight years later it was finished and
+uncovered to the admiration of all Rome.
+
+This monument is too well known to need detailed description here, but
+it is well here to recall its purpose, which was not for actual
+ceremonial use by the Popes, but to serve as a frame, or strong-box, for
+the ancient chair of carved ivory on which tradition said, and the whole
+Catholic world then believed, St. Peter had himself sat. There in the
+heart of the greatest Christian Church, raised above the soiling earth,
+high in air for the thronging worshippers to behold, was to be the
+visible and material sign of infallibility. Bernini alone had the
+feeling that made him capable of such a task. Four magnificent figures
+of Doctors of the Church support the chair—two of the Western church,
+Saint Augustine and Saint Ambrose, and two of the Eastern, Saint
+Chrysostom and Saint Athanasius. Stately great figures; on their
+outstretched hands they hold the Throne with the ease that comes of
+perfect faith, raising it up even as sixteen hundred years before the
+Apostles had raised up this earth for the glory of God.
+
+In all these religious works by Bernini there is beside the expression
+of the faith that begot them the expression of a decorative sense,
+something dramatic. He delighted in movement and expression for the mere
+sake of beauty of active form, and this feeling of joy in life, in the
+spirit of movement, whether in Nature or in Man, Bernini reproduced in a
+series of works which by themselves would make him unique among all
+sculptors and which give Rome a distinction and character far more
+decisive than her ruins or palaces and set her alone and apart from all
+other cities. These are the fountains.
+
+The list of fountains is of amazing length. The Barcaccia in the Piazza
+di Spagna, one in the Villa Mattei, one in the Vatican Gardens, another
+in the Barberini Gardens, the Triton in the Piazza Barberini; the lovely
+shell which used to be on the corner of the Via Sistina, but has been
+destroyed to make way for modern improvements so called; in the
+courtyard of the Palazzo Antamoro, in the Piazza Navona, and the broad
+pool of the Fountain of Trevi. They have the infinite variety and
+infinite pleasantness of Nature herself. By the side of the placid pool
+whence the _ciociaras_ draw the water for their flowers, or where the
+sparkling stream of the Triton shoots heavenward from the gray pavements
+like a white crocus from the frosty ground in Spring; where the Nile,
+the Ganges, the Plata and the Danube pour forth their incessant floods,
+or where Neptune shepherds his foaming steeds over the rocks as they
+dash down into the pool that if we once drink from our hearts evermore
+yearn for the Eternal City—by each and all of his fountains our ears are
+filled with the pleasant voices of the waters and our eyes with the
+sight of the nymphs and nereids who gambolled among the watercourses
+when the world was young.
+
+What the secret of their charm? No one ever understood the artistic
+value of water as Bernini did. No one else ever held in check the full
+stream and gave it back again the ripples, and spurts and sudden rushes
+of its upper course and of its source. The angels must have washed his
+spirit in the fountain of eternal youth to enable him to express the joy
+which flowed through his veins in the undying music of the waves,
+moulding and combining them to his intention as a musician makes the
+rough strings of his instrument sing of the life that lies hidden in
+them till his knowing touch gives them voice.[14]
+
+I have spoken of the groups representing classic myths, of the
+innumerable statues motived by religion and of the fountains, but even
+this huge mass of work does not come near completing the list of
+Bernini’s output. The numerous portraits remain to be considered. Some,
+such as the Constantine in St. Peter’s, were ideal, but most were of his
+patrons and friends and were of very varied types. There were colossal
+equestrian statues, ordinary busts, full-length figures and groups for
+tombs, and they show that he possessed just as great skill in direct
+portraiture as in more purely imaginative work.
+
+To carve or paint a successful portrait, two powers are absolutely
+essential to the artist. On the one hand he must have the sympathy that
+will enable him to comprehend the sitter’s character, and to see what
+lines and expressions of the face express that character most clearly;
+on the other he must have the power of suppressing his own individuality
+and of lending his hand and eye, as it were, to the sitter to make the
+portrait himself. If the artist lacks sympathy, he will produce a work
+which may be correct in all detail of colour, line and modelling, but it
+will only be a sort of mask; if he lacks the power of self-suppression,
+the work will be unlike the sitter, even though true in detail, because
+it will show not his character, but that of the artist. Bernini
+illustrates these points with perfect precision, and as a result his
+portraits are unsurpassed by those of any other artist of the
+Renaissance and are far finer than the quaint efforts of the earlier
+sculptors which many students of art admire with the enthusiasm of
+decadence and a fatuous misunderstanding of both the value of art and
+the aim of the artist.
+
+Just as it was fortunate for Turner that in his early years he was
+forced to draw with painstaking accuracy, so was Fate kind to the young
+Bernini in giving him to do, when he was but fourteen or fifteen years
+old, the portraits of two well-known Prelates. Success in these meant
+fame and an assured future for the boy. Like every genius he must have
+felt, with perfect simplicity, with no conceit, his power; but what must
+have been his feelings of tremulous satisfaction when, the busts
+unveiled, the crowd of Cardinals and Prelates who were gathered to see
+his work, broke into enthusiastic applause? The cheering words of those
+long since silent voices echo again in our hearts as we look at these
+busts of the Bishop Santoni and of Monsignor Montoya, for two more
+perfect portraits can hardly be found.
+
+A mere child made them; a boy whom one could more easily think of
+playing at marbles in the sunlit street; but instead his playground is
+the Temple of the Lord and his toys the souls of men. The mere knowledge
+of anatomy and the technical skill they show is most unusual for one so
+young, but what shall be said of the spiritual insight of the artist who
+carved these two bowed heads with their sweet, strong, grave faces? The
+excellence of the ancient Greek, in certain forms of sculpture, has
+given us his name as an adjective to express one kind of superlative
+merit and these two busts can, with perfect accuracy, be called Greek.
+They are as like as can be to the bronze bust by some unknown Grecian
+sculptor which in the Museo dei Conservatori bears the name of Brutus.
+
+As in his other work, so in the making of portraits Bernini soon broke
+away from traditional methods and gave his own spirit full sway. This is
+evident in the bust of Costanza Buonavelli, his mistress, which is one
+of the treasures of the National Museum in Florence. It is not only the
+technical skill with which he gave the different qualities of the
+pleated dress, the round soft neck and cheeks and the blown tresses of
+waving hair that make this portrait so remarkable, but beyond this one
+sees in it the artist’s own human love for the actual woman and his
+delight in her as a suggestion of a beautiful work of art. This bust is
+unique among his works, for the woman who inspired it then, with
+thoughtless animal selfishness, killed the inspiration she had begotten.
+The bust is the tombstone for the most sensitive part of Bernini’s
+heart.
+
+Among the other busts of his early years are one of his great patron
+Paul V (Borghese) and two of his steadfast friend Cardinal Scipio
+Borghese.[15] They are all of them noteworthy, but the finest is the
+first one he made of the Cardinal. In this the growth of Bernini’s
+dramatic feeling is very plain and is shown in a technical way which he
+repeated many times thereafter. It is this. He carves not alone the head
+and a small portion of the breast, but he gives the whole upper part of
+the torso and arms and skilfully suggests by the turn and position of
+this part the action of the whole body, so that as one looks at this
+bust of Scipio Borghese, one has the feeling of seeing not his head
+alone but his whole figure. The wonderful realism with which Bernini has
+rendered the crinkly silk cape and the rolling flesh of the fat face
+with the lips just parted as though the burly Cardinal were whistling
+for breath is obvious to the most casual observation; but realistic
+though the bust is, Bernini was skilful enough to give chief emphasis to
+the character of the sitter so that the impression that one takes away
+with one is not of the external appearance of the figure so much as of
+his nature and quality as a man. In many ways it closely resembles the
+portrait of Pope Innocent by Velasquez.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE X.]
+
+Other portraits are to be seen not only in Rome, but in Modena, at
+Versailles and even at Windsor; for, as Bernini’s fame spread, the great
+people all sought him and even Louis XIV and Charles I were delighted to
+have the artist give them that immortality which neither their deeds nor
+position could assure them. One of the quieter and less dramatic works
+is the beautiful bust of Monsignor Francesco Barberini. It is realistic
+like the Cardinal Borghese, but the realism is made subordinate to a
+higher aim and only used to emphasise the ideal character of the work.
+
+Numerous as are these effigies by Bernini of Popes and lesser men, there
+are two which stand out above all the rest as unsurpassed in art and as
+combining and illustrating more fully than any others the character of
+the time, of the sitter and of the artist which, all together, made them
+possible. They are of Francis I of Este, now in Modena, and of Louis XIV
+(Plate X), at Versailles. The first was made in 1651, the second during
+Bernini’s visit to Paris in 1665. Only Bernini was capable of
+representing these two proud princes in all their splendour of
+ornamental wig, and lace and armour. It demanded technique such as his
+to make anything but a great lump of complex and ugly form out of such
+settings for the head as these; and he succeeded, to the unquestioned
+admiration of all time.
+
+That was an epoch when men liked theatrical display of all sorts, when
+what in these colder days seems exaggerated expression was natural and
+pleasing to people. Bernini knew and understood this, had often himself
+been employed in writing plays or arranging stage scenery, and has
+represented the two rulers just as they delighted to show and think of
+themselves, adorned with all that was rich and splendid, haughty and
+disdainful as was the nature of those endowed with the divine right of
+Kings. Even more than in the case of the portrait of Cardinal Borghese
+do these two busts seem to make us see the whole figure and yet they
+have an appearance of lightness that is most surprising. Not to be made
+again such busts—nor such men. Democracy, and a belief in equality as
+absurd as that in Kingship was overweening, have snuffed out all such
+pretensions, and have snuffed out the art too. But thanks to Bernini we
+have the record of them. We see them in their moment of splendid
+satisfaction and self-confidence, and made beautiful through mere
+enjoyment of their bubble reputation.
+
+The final value of portraiture is that it should be characteristic of
+the person depicted. No matter how great the skill shown in giving
+Napoleon the appearance of a Greek athlete or Washington that of
+Olympian Zeus, such works are only folly and waste. Bernini made no such
+mistake, but with deep insight and unrivalled skill proved himself one
+of the greatest portraitists of all time.
+
+I have spoken of Bernini’s versatility. I have considered in some detail
+the sculpture by which he is best remembered. Of his painting not much
+is left, and what remains is naturally not of any great value as art.
+Still less is left of his work as an organiser of plays and arranger of
+processions or carnival displays. A few drawings and engravings and some
+slight accounts by contemporaries give us an idea of this work of his,
+but it was the occupation of his more idle hours and is of little
+moment. Of his architectural work a good deal is still to be seen,
+though in many instances later workmen have added to or altered the
+original structure, which was almost always skilful and big in
+conception, though occasionally he made a mistake, as when he put the
+towers—asses’ ears his contemporaries called them—on the Pantheon.
+
+The structure by which Bernini is best known is the double colonnade of
+the Piazza of St. Peter’s. Of this his original sketch book still
+exists.[16] It is an intensely interesting record of the different
+schemes and plans which Bernini worked at till in the end he produced
+the splendid simple and grand design which gives Rome the finest public
+square in the world.
+
+There are several sheets of drawings in the book, some showing
+Leonardesque studies of the relations between the proportions of the
+human figure and those of architecture, others show views down the Borgo
+from the church or looking up towards St. Peter’s with plans for the
+rearrangement of the district, and some are views and designs of various
+types of colonnade showing deep study of their perspective appearance.
+But of all these sketches, there is one of far greater interest than all
+the others, for it shows that insight into the deeper meaning of things
+which made Bernini the supreme genius he was (Plate XXX).
+
+On this sheet are two similar drawings showing St. Peter’s and the
+colonnade. Over these, as though they formed the head and arms of a
+cross, is drawn a bearded figure, his head crowned by the dome of the
+church, his arms outstretched on the colonnades and with his feet
+crossed slightly one above the other and resting just where, at the
+beginning of the Borgo, Bernini intended, as another of the sketches
+makes plain, to put a building. There can be no doubt, after seeing this
+drawing, that Bernini’s intention was to make the Piazza symbolic of
+Christ and the Crucifixion. Evidently not a mere builder of houses this
+man Gian Lorenzo Bernini, but somehow, and somewhence, he has got a
+poet’s vision and he makes his mark in the world not merely by moulded
+clay and shaped stones, but by shaping men’s hearts and moulding their
+ideas.
+
+Such was Bernini, one of the great artists of the world. It is true that
+he was revolutionary, but he destroyed not through ignorance or envy. He
+destroyed merely that he might then create. The arts in his day were
+strangled by academic rules and had become cold and lifeless. The
+intensity with which he felt things gave him strength to break these
+bonds and to make sculpture once more a means of conveying living
+thoughts and emotions. He was like the butterfly which tears away the
+stiff-plated chrysalis before it can spread its wings in the free air.
+It is useless to try to explain his technical skill; he was born with
+it, just as others are born with a keen sense of colour or a musical
+ear, but it is certain that without it he could never have carved such
+figures as the Saint Theresa or the portrait of Fonseca[17] which show
+intense emotion brought on by loss of all sense of self in the
+contemplation of the mystical meaning of the Passion. Such feeling could
+not be shown by restrained action and quiet faces. Much movement was
+necessary and the works are successful and beautiful because the feeling
+shown is perfectly simple and natural and not forced and put on for the
+sake of effect.
+
+Bernini’s technical power made him, however, a bad master for others to
+imitate. Not that the work of his followers is any more inane than that
+of the copiers of Michael Angelo or of those of any other great man, but
+his peculiarities were such as are at least superficially easy to see.
+Where he quite easily and simply distinguished between the appearance of
+silk or flesh, his imitators wasted their energies on elaborate
+arrangements, the only object of which was to show technical dexterity.
+Where he carved figures that are racked and torn with feeling, the
+imitators gave forms that are contorted and as unemotional as gymnasts.
+But he is not to be blamed for their work. By no means was he one of the
+blind leading the blind. He was the seer, the prophet, by odd chance
+honoured in his own home, whose visions were so believed by his
+followers that they vainly tried to see the like. What their eyes
+strained towards and failed to see, his heart yearned for and gained. To
+them praise was a prize to win, to him it was a spur to renewed effort
+and further advance. He had faults, as who has not, but they were due to
+his being a pathbreaker and having to find out for himself ways to carve
+and show figures such as no sculptor before him had ever dreamed of;
+they were not the faults of ignorance or stupidity. If it be well for us
+that we judge not lest we be judged, so too is it well, should we judge
+Bernini or other men, to judge not what there is in him of weakness or
+failure, but what there may be of noble intention and high endeavour.
+Doing this we shall see that Bernini, working always with bowed heart,
+but with uplifted spirit, broke down the middle wall of partition
+between art and life.
+
+
+
+
+            II. A COLLECTION OF SCULPTOR’S MODELS BY BERNINI
+
+
+The clay models by Bernini, descriptions of which follow, form one of
+the most interesting artistic records left us of the sculpture of the
+Renaissance. Drawings made by the painters of that period to serve as
+studies for their pictures are not uncommon, but the sketch-models made
+by the sculptors are rare.
+
+This is because sculptors carved the marble without any previous models,
+as Michael Angelo frequently did, or else that the models, being
+cumbrous and of material that was easily destroyed, have, in the course
+of years, been got rid of either intentionally or by accident. It may
+seem strange to suggest that the clay of which the sculptors may have
+made their studies is more liable to destruction than the paper used by
+the painters, but it must be remembered that while nothing is more
+durable than baked clay, air-dried clay is extremely perishable. Wax was
+also used by the sculptors for their preliminary sketches, but this,
+owing to expense, could never have served for work of any great size or
+quantity; and even if less apt to complete disintegration than unbaked
+clay, it is very liable to injury.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XI.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XIII.]
+
+What precisely was the origin of this collection of Bernini’s models we
+cannot tell; but it is our great good fortune that when they were made
+there was some one, perhaps one of Bernini’s pupils, who cared for them
+and saw to their being properly dried or baked so that they have
+preserved their pristine freshness. It is also extremely fortunate that
+their present owner realized their great beauty and extreme interest and
+added them to the artistic treasures stored in America, where they will
+serve in the ages to come to show students and sculptors a clear
+reflection of the mind of one of the world’s greatest artists.
+
+In the Museum at Berlin are other models by Bernini, but there is, so
+far as I know, no other collection, either public or private, that
+approaches the Brandegee Collection in number, variety or excellence of
+these works. In America I know of but one other model purporting to be
+by Bernini. It is in the Morgan collection and represents Pope Urban
+VIII, but it does not show a single touch by the master; it is an
+imitation, copied from the statue in the Campidoglio at Rome. In the
+collection of the late Mme. Edouard Aynard, sold in Paris, December 1–4,
+1913, were two terra-cotta models of angels (lot 307) “attribuées au
+chevalier Bernin, d’après les originaux du port Sant Ange, à Rome,” and
+one equestrian statuette in the same material (lot 308), said to be the
+“esquisse originale de la statue en marbre de Louis XIV, dans le parc de
+Versailles, par le chevalier Bernin.” The two angels are certainly not
+by Bernini; the portrait may be.
+
+From the artistic point of view these models are of the highest
+importance, for they show with startling clearness the great fertility
+of invention which characterized Bernini and the vivid way in which he
+visualized the creations of his brain. There is not a trace of effort in
+them, there is not a sign of rubbing out or doing over, but each group
+or figure was obviously seen by him with the sharpness of a dream and
+reproduced by his skilful fingers in the fresh clay while the impulse
+and uplift of the vision was still on him.
+
+The knowledge of the purely technical side of the art of sculpture which
+the models reveal is magnificent. The way, for instance, in which the
+various planes are treated in the oval relief of the Virgin and Child
+(Plate XXVI) is as subtle as, and very similar to, that of the reliefs
+on the ancient vases from Arezzo, while the relation of draped portions
+of the figures to the parts left nude, and the manner in which the body
+beneath gives life and meaning to the covering drapery, is as fine as
+any work by Pheidias.
+
+But the most fascinating and interesting characteristic of these
+terra-cotta figures is that one sees in every least portion of them how
+Bernini’s fingers, trained by long years of hard practice, played over
+the wet clay like wavering flame and moulded the dead material to
+enduring forms of beauty. Once more the old mythology comes true, and
+Pygmalion, taking the rough material offered him by Mother Earth,
+fondled it, and, warming it with the fires of his brain, gave it back
+the life that lies asleep till the lover’s kiss wakes it once again.
+
+
+                       DESCRIPTION OF THE MODELS
+
+
+                            No. 1.—PLATE XI
+
+  Seated female figure in high relief, wearing helmet, and heavily
+  draped; the left cheek rests on the back of the raised left hand. Feet
+  missing.
+
+  For the tablet in memory of Carlo Barberini in Santa Maria d’Aracoeli,
+  Rome.
+
+  Width 10 inches.
+
+
+                            No. 2.—PLATE XII
+
+  Figure of Longinus, in St. Peter’s. In the round, and gilded.
+
+  Height 20¾ inches.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XIV.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XV.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XVI.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XVII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XVIII.]
+
+
+                         No. 3.—PLATE XIII, _a_
+
+  Two _putti_, for the decoration of the piers in St. Peter’s. High
+  relief. The scale of measurement is scratched on the right edge. The
+  wings are broken from the lower figure.
+
+  Height 11⅛ inches.
+
+
+                         No. 4.—PLATE XIII, _b_
+
+  Another two _putti_, also for St. Peter’s. The scale of measurement is
+  scratched on the left edge. The wings are broken from the upper
+  figure.
+
+  Height 11⅜ inches.
+
+
+                    Nos. 5, 6, 7, 8.—PLATES XIV, XV
+
+  Four heavily draped bearded male Saints, for the _Ciborio_ in the
+  _Cappella del Sacramento_ in St. Peter’s.
+
+  The figures stand on thin, square plinths, one of which (Height 10⅜
+  inches; PLATE XIV, _a_) is unmarked, but on the other three are the
+  names _Bartolomeo_ (Height 10¼ inches; PLATE XV, _b_), _Tomaso_
+  (Height 10⅜ inches; PLATE XIV, _b_), and _Filippo_ (Height 10 inches;
+  PLATE XV, _a_).
+
+  The heads of all four are turned to the left, and the figures rest
+  their weight on the right leg. The left arm of the Bartolomeo is gone,
+  but was outstretched; the others all stretch out their right arm.
+
+
+                            No. 9.—PLATE XVI
+
+  Bas-relief with half-figures of four men, and traces of architectural
+  background.
+
+  For the side wall of the _Cappella Borghese_ in Santa Maria della
+  Vittoria, Rome.
+
+  Width 17¼ inches.
+
+
+                           No. 10.—PLATE XVII
+
+  Half figure of a Triton holding a draped woman on his shoulders.
+
+  For a fountain. The head and arms of the woman are gone.
+
+  Height 19½ inches.
+
+
+                          No. 11.—PLATE XVIII
+
+  Front part of the head of a bearded man.
+
+  For the Saint Jerome in the _Cappella Chigi_ in the Duomo of Siena.
+
+  Height 13½ inches.
+
+
+                         No. 12.—PLATE XIX, _a_
+
+  Model (head missing) for the kneeling Angel on the left of the
+  _Ciborio_ in the _Cappella del Sacramento_, St. Peter’s.
+
+  Height 11 inches.
+
+
+                         No. 13.—PLATE XX, _a_
+
+  Another model for the same figure. Tip of right wing missing.
+
+  Height 11¼ inches.
+
+
+                         No. 14.—PLATE XX, _b_
+
+  Angel on the right of the _Ciborio_ in the _Cappella del Sacramento_.
+
+  Other models for these two Angels are mentioned by Fraschetti (p.
+  394), who also suggests that this angel on the right is not by
+  Bernini, but “perhaps by Paolo Bernini, touched up by his father.”
+
+  I do not feel tempted to agree with this idea of Signor Fraschetti;
+  there is no doubt whatever that this model of the right-hand angel is
+  by Gian Lorenzo himself. Height 13⅛ inches.
+
+
+                           No. 15.—PLATE XXI
+
+  Nude figure of an Angel holding the Crown of Thorns. The head and feet
+  are gone. The weight rests on the right leg.
+
+  Sant’ Andrea delle Fratte, Rome.
+
+  Height 13¼ inches.
+
+
+                           No. 16.—PLATE XXII
+
+  Angel holding the Crown of Thorns.
+
+  This is the final model of the figure in Sant’ Andrea delle Fratte.
+
+  The action of the legs is the reverse of that in 15. Height 17½
+  inches.
+
+
+                        No. 17.—PLATE XXIII, _a_
+
+  Model for the Angel holding the Scroll. The tips of the wings are
+  missing.
+
+  In Sant’ Andrea delle Fratte.
+
+  Height 11¾ inches.
+
+
+                         No. 18.—PLATE XIX, _b_
+
+  Another model for the same figure as No. 17; lacks the right leg, the
+  head and most of the wings.
+
+  Height 11⅛ inches.
+
+
+                        No. 19.—PLATE XXIV, _a_
+
+  Angel, perhaps for the ecstasy of Saint Theresa in _Santa Maria della
+  Vittoria_, Rome. Right hand missing.
+
+  Height 11½ inches.
+
+
+                        No. 20.—PLATE XXIII, _b_
+
+  Angel, draped, right leg bare, turning to the left. Part of right wing
+  missing.
+
+  Height 11½ inches.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XIX.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XX.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXI.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXIII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXIV.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXV.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXVI.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXVII.]
+
+
+                        No. 21.—PLATE XXIV, _b_
+
+  Angel, draped, kneeling, head turned to right, right arm (hand
+  missing) raised, left arm with open hand stretching downwards and
+  outwards.
+
+  Height 11¾ inches.
+
+
+                           No. 22.—PLATE XXV
+
+  Standing male figure, in high relief. Drapery hangs from the right
+  shoulder, leaving torso bare but covering the legs with heavy folds.
+  The left arm hangs down, and there was a palm branch in the now
+  missing hand. The right arm is bent up with the hand over the chin.
+  The head bends down and to the right. The figure rests its weight on
+  the left leg.
+
+  The right side of the plaque is curved; the left side is straight, and
+  on it is scratched a scale of measurements.
+
+  Height 16⅝ inches.
+
+
+                           No. 23.—PLATE XXVI
+
+  Oval bas-relief of the Virgin seated and looking down to right while
+  holding the Child in her lap. High relief.
+
+  Very sketchy, but the most masterly of all these models.
+
+  Height 11 inches.
+
+
+                        No. 24.—PLATE XXVII, _b_
+
+  Draped, standing female figure. She bends forward, turning to the left
+  with arms (right arm missing) raised to support a slab that rests
+  across her shoulders. The weight rests on the left leg. At her feet
+  suggestion of a cuirass.
+
+  Study for the base of some monument such as the obelisk in the Piazza
+  della Minerva. (Cf. Fraschetti, pp. 300–303.)
+
+  Height 8½ inches.
+
+
+                        No. 25.—PLATE XXVII, _a_
+
+  Standing angel, heavily draped; the left knee is bent sharply
+  backwards. The right arm is bent across the breast, the left arm
+  (forearm missing) bent across the body lower down. The wings are
+  missing.
+
+  Height 8⅝ inches.
+
+
+                                 No. 26
+
+  The Magdalen kneeling, and grasping the foot of the Cross.
+
+  This figure is not by Bernini, and shows clearly the difference
+  between the work of a master and that of an imitator.
+
+  Height 10 inches.
+
+
+                                 No. 27
+
+  Study of a hand.
+
+  Length 8 inches.
+
+
+
+
+          III. BERNINI’S DESIGNS FOR THE PIAZZA OF ST. PETER’S
+
+
+The pen and ink sketches by Bernini for the construction and adornment
+of the piazza in front of the Vatican, together with the surrounding
+buildings, deserve to be more widely known than they are at present.[18]
+Any details regarding the history and growth of this part of Rome are of
+the deepest interest to those who study the intellectual development of
+mankind. Did we possess any record of the reasons why Pericles and his
+advisers placed the temples and other buildings on the Acropolis of
+Athens just as they did, we should have a clearer understanding of the
+character and ideals of Athens than we now have. So a study of these
+drawings by Bernini will show very distinctly that the present form of
+the piazza is due to no mere thoughtless and haphazard erection of
+colonnades and fountains, but is the result of a deeply considered plan
+and illustrative of a very large idea.
+
+The drawings are carefully done with pen and ink on fourteen sheets of
+paper which were numbered by some old-time owner. These sheets have had
+the edges trimmed. Ten are, with slight variations, 14 by 6¾ inches. The
+others are, as will be noted later, of different sizes. All, however,
+judging by the paper and method of drawing, belong unquestionably to the
+same series. The drawings were mounted and bound together by the
+previous owner.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXVIII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXIX.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXX.]
+
+The history of the drawings can only be guessed at. In this connection
+the following facts are to be noted. Bernini was officially appointed
+architect of the _Fabbrica_ of St. Peter’s in 1680. After him Luigi
+Vanvitelli was head architect. With Vanvitelli there worked Andrea-Vici.
+In 1817 Vici left by his will to his friend the sculptor Canova drawings
+by Bernini representing the burial of the Countess Matilda, and Louis
+XIV on horseback. This legacy shows Vici to have owned original drawings
+by Bernini, and it is not improbable they had been given him by
+Vanvitelli. By the same will Vici left to his grandson Busiri his name
+and his studio, with all the original drawings by various masters
+therein contained. Consequently it is not a rash hypothesis that these
+drawings of the piazza came from Vanvitelli to Vici, and so to
+Busiri-Vici. Finally they were sold at auction in Rome in 1903. They are
+now in the Brandegee Collection.
+
+
+                      DESCRIPTION OF THE DRAWINGS
+
+
+                          No. 1.—PLATE XXVIII
+
+  This drawing shows the Orb; the Christian symbol of the world,
+  surmounted by a cross.
+
+  The cross with the head and arms ending in curves like apses suggests
+  the plan of a church, and the following drawings show clearly that the
+  Orb and Cross were the fundamental idea in Bernini’s mind when he
+  planned the _piazza_.
+
+
+                          No. 2.—PLATE XXVIII
+
+  This is on a square piece of paper, similar in size to No. 1, and at
+  present mounted on the same sheet at the left of No. 1. It shows the
+  figure of a bearded man with arms outstretched as though on a cross. A
+  curved dotted line stretches from hand to hand over the head and drops
+  about an inch perpendicularly below each hand. This dotted line is a
+  suggestion of the existing colonnades.
+
+  That the figure is thought of as being on a cross is borne out by
+  sketches that follow and also by the dot in the palm of the left hand
+  which possibly represents a nail.
+
+  The sharp, broken lines with which the figure is drawn are
+  characteristic of Bernini.
+
+
+                           No. 3.—PLATE XXIX
+
+  An outline plan of the church with the colonnades in front. It is to
+  be noted the latter start at the corners of the façade of the church
+  and project a short distance parallel to the main axis before curving
+  to each side.
+
+  Size 6½ × 8¾ inches.
+
+
+                           No. 4.—PLATE XXIX
+
+  Similar to No. 3, but in greater detail. The figure of a bearded man
+  represented within the plan of the church in the attitude of
+  crucifixion. In the left arm of the colonnade is drawn the sun and in
+  the right arm the moon and stars.
+
+  This is pasted in the book at the left of No. 3.
+
+  Size 6⅝ × 8¾ inches.
+
+
+                            No. 5.—PLATE XXX
+
+  This shows the same crucified figure as before. Over the head and
+  below each hand is the dotted line seen in No. 2. Behind the head and
+  arms is drawn with dots the elevation of St. Peter’s, the Vatican and
+  the colonnades.
+
+
+                            No. 6.—PLATE XXX
+
+  Similar figure to the preceding, but with the arms contorted so as to
+  follow the straight portion of the colonnade (shown in No. 3) before
+  following the curve. Behind the head the dotted outline of St. Peter’s
+  and behind the figure’s left arm the colonnade and Vatican buildings
+  laid in with dots and a few lines.
+
+  No. 5 is at the right of No. 6, and the size of the sheet is 14 × 6¾
+  inches.
+
+  It should be noted that the figure is so placed in these two drawings
+  that the dome of the church suggests a bishop’s mitre.
+
+
+                           No. 7.—PLATE XXXI
+
+  Outline elevation of the north half of the façade of St. Peter’s and
+  the north colonnade, rising behind which is shown the Vatican Palace.
+
+  On the left half of the sheet are faint pencil lines showing the south
+  side of the colonnade and façade.
+
+  The sky is touched in with bluish white.
+
+  Size 14¼ × 6½ inches.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXI.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXIII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXIV.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXV.]
+
+  No. 8.—PLATE XXXII
+
+  Two drawings of the north colonnade. These are similar to the
+  preceding, but more elaborate (with shadows washed in in gray), as
+  shown by dotted lines drawn to the eyes of outlined figures from
+  various points.
+
+  We find here the architect’s intention regarding the view from
+  different positions.
+
+  Size 14⅜ × 6¾ inches.
+
+  On the back of the sheet is a sketch of the door of St. Peter’s with
+  the balcony where the Pope used to appear. I do not feel sure that
+  this is by Bernini. There is also another sheet with a more detailed
+  drawing of this door.
+
+
+                          No. 9.—PLATE XXXIII
+
+  Similar to No. 8, but still more elaborate and larger; there is only
+  one drawing on the sheet.
+
+  In this design Bernini has altered the line of the colonnade. Instead
+  of having, as in the preceding drawing, a straight portion projecting
+  from the church, he has here drawn the colonnade in one large curve
+  from the church outwards, putting an elaborate entrance to the Vatican
+  Palace near the church. This entrance would have led to the Cortile di
+  San Damaso.
+
+  Size 14 × 6⅝ inches.
+
+
+                          No. 10.—PLATE XXXIV
+
+  Slight outline sketch of the outer end of the north arm of the
+  colonnade, which is here made two-storied.
+
+  Size 13⅝ × 6⅜ inches.
+
+
+                           No. 11.—PLATE XXXV
+
+  Interior of inner end of north arm of colonnade, showing the stairway
+  as it exists at present. Size 14½ × 6⅜ inches.
+
+
+                          No. 12.—PLATE XXXVI
+
+  Two sketches; one showing the plan, the other the elevation, of the
+  Cortile di San Damaso.
+
+  Size 13⅝ × 6⅝ inches.
+
+
+                          No. 13.—PLATE XXXVII
+
+  View of the façade of St. Peter’s with both colonnades, which are
+  two-storied. The sky is touched in with bluish white.
+
+  The buildings of the Vatican are also shown,—those on the right exist,
+  those on the left are imaginary.
+
+  Size 14⅝ × 6¾ inches.
+
+
+                         No. 14.—PLATE XXXVIII
+
+  View looking east from the front of St. Peter’s.
+
+  On each side are the ends of the colonnades; they are in two stories,
+  that on the right crowned with low clock-towers similar to the “asses’
+  ears” once placed by Bernini on the Pantheon.
+
+  Beyond the piazza is the _Borgo_ much reconstructed and made
+  symmetrical. In the distance the Castel Sant’ Angelo.
+
+  Size 14⅜ × 6⅝ inches.
+
+
+                          No. 15.—PLATE XXXIX
+
+  Two sketches in pen, washed with sepia, of the Borgo, looking towards
+  St. Peter’s.
+
+  These show different methods of treating the north arm of the
+  colonnade. The one on the right shows the colonnade closing the view
+  up the Borgo, the other shows an opening carrying the eye beyond and
+  between St. Peter’s and the Vatican.
+
+  Size 14½ × 6½ inches.
+
+  The buildings shown exist in much the same form to-day. Even the
+  fountain still serves.
+
+
+                            No. 16.—PLATE XL
+
+  Plan of the piazza showing how it was intended to symbolize the orb of
+  the world suggested on No. 1.
+
+  In this sketch we see the circle within which is a dotted square.
+  Within the square is a figure with arms and legs outstretched along
+  the diagonals. At the top is written over a faint pencil outline of
+  the church (perhaps not original) _San Pietro_. At the bottom is
+  written twice _Piazza Rusticucci_ and on a piece of paper pasted on is
+  the plan of a building shown in No. 14,—one of the buildings intended
+  for the reconstructed _Borgo_.
+
+  On the right and left of the figure are indicated the _Porta Angelica_
+  and the _Porta Cavalleggieri_.
+
+  The dotted square within the circle is divided into quarters in which
+  is written _Asia_, _Europa_, _America_, _Affrica_.
+
+  Size 7¾ × 8⅝ inches.
+
+
+  These are the plans showing Bernini’s ideas regarding the Piazza of
+  St. Peter’s. From a study of them we see how the circular piazza
+  itself was intended to represent the world at large, while the
+  colonnade symbolized the arms of the Cross. Crowning all was the great
+  Church, founded by Him whose arms could embrace the whole earth, and
+  from whose doors should stream to every quarter the promise of hope
+  and love for which He died.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXVI.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXVII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXVIII.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XXXIX.]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XL.]
+
+
+
+
+                    ASPECTS OF THE ART OF SCULPTURE
+
+
+
+
+                       I. THE ART OF PORTRAITURE
+
+
+All students have noticed the similarity in style between certain
+Egyptian portraits and other works by ancient Roman as well as
+Florentine artists, and the resemblance in style that exists between
+Greek and Venetian portraits. Also there is a marked dissimilarity
+between the Egyptian-Roman-Florentine Group on the one hand and the
+Greek-Venetian Group on the other; and these two facts suggest the
+conclusion that the art of portraiture consists in something more than
+the mere photographic imitation in stone, or with paint, of the human
+face or figure. Were such imitation the essential factor in the art the
+only differences in portraits of different epochs would be those of
+ethnographic character. The special characteristics of portraiture as of
+the other arts at any given period are the result of the intellectual
+and material condition of the people to whom the artist belongs. Style,
+that is the distinguishing quality of the work of art, the quality which
+differentiates it from a work of another period or race, is the result,
+largely unconscious, of the relation of the artist to life and its
+effect upon him. The material, the means by which he gives expression to
+his endeavour at creation or representation, is of minor importance.
+
+The Sheik-el-Beled (Plates XLI, XLII) and the bust of Scipio so called
+(Plate XLIII) might almost be portraits of brothers; and the family is
+increased by a little Egyptian head in the museum in Venice, and by some
+of the men immortalised by Donatello. So too Pericles as we see him in
+the bust by Kresilas seems separated by but a narrow margin from
+Giorgione’s Knight of Malta. And yet in blood, traditions, circumstances
+and hopes these men were the poles asunder.
+
+How then is this likeness of certain portraits to one another to be
+explained unless by the existence of some connection dependent on the
+temper of the artist?
+
+There is still another curious likeness and another difference to be
+noted among the carved and painted portraits of various epochs and
+schools. While the head of Corbulo is unlike that of Pericles in the
+æsthetic impression it gives, and that of Angelo Doni by Raphael also is
+æsthetically unlike the Duke of Norfolk by Titian, still the carved
+heads have a common bond as have also the painted ones.[19] They do not
+make the two broad groups into which I have, for the sake of making
+plain a general idea, divided portraits æsthetically similar, but they
+make plain when understood that painted portraits are necessarily
+different from carved ones—different in more than the mere fact that one
+is round and the other flat. The difference springs deep down from what
+is possible to attain by either art. The sculptor of the Pericles and
+the painter of the Norfolk both set before us the grave, elegant and
+stately face of a bearded man in middle life. Neither artist distracts
+our attention by bravura or technique or by realistic emphasis of
+detail. Though stylistically similar, these works still do not impress
+our minds in the same way. The following pages will be clearer if I say
+at once that this differing mental impression arises because in busts
+our attention is drawn chiefly to the mouth while in painted portraits
+it is turned on the eyes. This is due to the special laws of the
+technique by which the works are produced; given a painter and sculptor
+with the same point of view and the same mental tendencies, the
+portraits produced by them, even of the same person, though evidently
+expressing the same intellectual qualities both of artist and of sitter,
+are in modes of expression and certain external aspects necessarily
+unlike. In pursuing this investigation and in discussing the existence
+and nature of the various laws the governance of which I have suggested,
+the history of the rise and spread of portraiture must be kept in mind.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLI.]
+
+Before the intention of the maker of portraits can be comprehended the
+motives that lead to the desire of the public or of private individuals
+to possess such work must be understood. In the main they are two,—one
+religious and one historic; to these may be added a third, that of
+sentiment and friendship. The religious cause is best illustrated by
+Egyptian statues, of which a large proportion were made to be placed in
+tombs. These are the earliest portraits of western origin which exist in
+sufficient numbers to afford a sound basis of criticism. The well-known
+dependence, in that country, of these works on religious prescriptions
+needs hardly more than passing mention. That the soul of dead mortals
+might, returning to this earth and to the tomb, find its accustomed
+corporeal dwelling place, portrait statues of the deceased were placed
+in the sepulchral chamber.
+
+Holding this belief, it was only natural that the sculptors often made
+statues life-size, and as closely resembling the dead original as
+possible, in order that the soul might find a shelter exactly similar to
+its original living one. Had they not been so made, the soul would have
+been troubled in its search. Work such as this was of course expensive
+and the mass of the people had to content themselves with smaller and
+less elaborate figures or with mere glazed figurines. But the more rare
+elaborate works show the ideal and serve as a sure guide in studying the
+conceptions and hopes of this or any people—just as the gold treasure
+from Mycenæ is of much greater value than all the terra-cotta vases in
+showing the life and thoughts of the time.
+
+Other portraits of Pharaohs and their queens, of priests and generals,
+were carved on temple walls or set up to commemorate striking events,
+and these also were made realistic because of the egotistic idea that
+called them into being. Unless the person portrayed was carved
+realistically the commemorative value of the monument was lessened.
+These religious and commemorative ideas influenced the sculptors in
+their choice of material. Both the desire to make an enduring image of
+the dead for the sake of the soul that might return and the wish to make
+the memory of the person as enduring as possible led the sculptors to
+make use of the hardest stones; stones such as do not lend themselves to
+sculpture and such as are never used where the art develops in
+accordance with cultivated taste rather than special demand.[20] But
+though exactness of likeness was tirelessly sought for by the Egyptians
+(I refer of course to the earlier epochs before the influx of Greek or
+Roman ideas), it was not attained with the same success as in later days
+by the Romans and Florentines.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLII.]
+
+This failure was in part due to the use of unyielding material, such as
+granite and basalt. Successful representation, in such stone, of the
+finer details of facial form, was practically impossible, and
+furthermore, owing to the dark and variegated colour of these stones,
+would have been scarcely noticeable could it have been attained. Hence
+the sculptors were led to practise a certain broadness of treatment that
+makes their work seem, to careless observation, like the Greek; but
+though one of the chief charms of Greek work is broadness, it is the
+outcome of very different causes and, if carefully studied, is seen to
+produce a very different effect from that of Egyptian work.[21]
+
+Any phenomenon is due to mixed causes, and it must not be supposed that
+the use of hard materials alone led to breadth of treatment. The
+conventional position of the figures in Egyptian art (due in large
+measure to various non-æsthetic causes) was suited better by a broad and
+conventionalised treatment of the face than by more particular niceness
+in the rendering of its detail.[22] Religious feeling led to the placing
+of quietly posed statues in the tombs, and as regards the figures of the
+great rulers whose word was law, attitudes expressive of the calm that
+results from absolute power were best fitted to express the current
+beliefs. These attitudes were also restrained in consequence of the
+refractory nature of the stones used.
+
+It is interesting to consider what would have been the development of
+sculpture in Egypt had the art been freed from the necessity of
+conforming to the demands of religion and contemporary history. One
+searches in vain among the masses of Egyptian sculpture for the
+expression of the individual sculptor’s emotions. We do not even know
+the names of the sculptors. They were not noted by their contemporaries
+nor did interest in their work lead them to sign it. Sculpture in that
+antique land was not a fine art in the sense of being chosen by men of
+special tastes and feeling to express the enjoyment felt by them in
+certain forms. It was a highly developed handicraft, a technique pursued
+by rule. As illustrative of the character, the life and the thought of
+the people portrayed it is allied to Roman work rather than to Greek.
+
+Religion is seen to influence portraiture in another way. Many pictures,
+the subjects of which are religious, by Botticelli, Ghirlandaio and
+others, are filled with portraits, but these are essential to the
+composition, and are thought of as figures first, as portraits
+afterwards. But there are many sacred pictures of the Renaissance in
+which, with varying degrees of simplicity and frankness, a portrait of
+the donor of the painting is inserted not as an essential part of the
+composition but because of the desire of the donor to secure lasting
+recognition of the fact that he had fulfilled his religious vows and
+duties. It was an accepted proof of respectability in this world and
+might possibly help in the next. Neither in Egypt nor in this class of
+pictures of the Renaissance are the works thought of primarily from the
+point of view of being artistic reproductions of the human face, but
+they are means to an end. They are in fact symbols. Work of this sort is
+so rare in Greek or Roman art that it may be considered as practically
+non-existent.[23]
+
+The personal portrait, the portrait made for the sake of gratifying the
+self-esteem of the person represented, is well exhibited in Egyptian
+work in the bas-reliefs illustrating the conquests of the Pharaohs and
+in the colossal statues erected in a spirit of pride and
+self-glorification such as was exhibited again by the Romans. Such
+portraits as these are a certain indication of the all but universal
+desire for glory and fame. They are an expression of the same confident
+spirit that leads the owners of great buildings to carve their names
+over the entrance and are produced in large numbers only during periods
+when individuals seek eagerly for personal recognition.
+
+Such periods occur when large stores of money are possessed by private
+persons; then religious beliefs grow faint, in men’s if not in
+women’s[24] minds, and the quiet and enduring appreciation of a few
+objects gives way to the excited pursuit of constant novelty in
+enjoyment. Consequently instead of being content with philosophic
+moderation men attribute an untrue value to mere possession, and, since
+money can buy many material things, come to the false conclusion that he
+who has the most is to be ranked among the world’s greatest sons.
+
+But the qualities needful for amassing riches are by no means rare and
+in the main are correlated with lack of interest in the Past and with
+undeveloped imagination. Hence ignorant of, or at least not sympathetic
+with, the more subtle but more effective types of men who work not with
+money but with personal character, the wealthy naturally come to think
+of themselves as individually interesting and important, and in
+consequence their portraits are made in every shape and size. Such works
+cannot, as regards the person portrayed, be of much interest, and are
+usually ugly, because the lives and occupations of people invariably
+affect the forms and expressions of their faces. The exceptions to this
+rule are the portraits of such men as Lorenzo dei Medici, or others of
+our own day who use their inherited or acquired wealth in the patronage
+of the arts and sciences—who use their powers indirectly for the
+cultivation of ideals.
+
+Such portraits as these are of varying character. They may be public,
+put up, that is, by a grateful and flattering people to commemorate a
+ruler or chief citizen, as in the case of Gattamalata in Padua and
+Colleone in Venice; or they may be of purely private interest and
+intended only for the eyes of the successive generations of the family
+to which the person depicted belongs. But public or private, in the one
+case as in the other, the desire for them being due to personal regard
+and love of fame, an accuracy in the reproduction of feature is sought
+that distinguishes them clearly from portraits made with other less
+worldly motives.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLIII.]
+
+It is known of course that this desire for fame stirred the hearts of
+oriental potentates long centuries before the beginning of connected
+history. But in that classic part of the ancient world with which we are
+intimately related, it does not become specially noticeable till the
+time of Alexander. It was an active factor in life during the existence
+of the Roman world, and again in the Renaissance. One of the phenomena
+most indicative of this aspiration is the character of the monuments
+placed on graves, and particularly the inscriptions on such stones. On
+the Greek grave stones we find often enough the name of the deceased but
+rarely if ever any intimate notice of his life. On Roman and Renaissance
+monuments, on the other hand, the length of life, and the honorific
+offices held, are all given with wearisomely full detail.
+
+Portraits made for friendship’s sake are uncommon and do not, I believe,
+occur before the time of the Renaissance. Then one hears of friends
+sending their portraits to one another. In Rome a somewhat similar
+custom was practised to a certain extent, as is shown by the portraits
+on rings and cameos. Such work, meant as it was for personal adornment,
+must have been, at least in part, inspired by the tender regard of
+friend for friend. But it seems not to have been a common custom in the
+ancient world; just why it would be hard to tell, for no more inviolable
+friendships have ever been known than those told of in ancient history
+and drama, nor more tender feeling than is expressed in many of the
+inscriptions on ancient tombstones. Perhaps it was that the house
+architecture of those days was but little adapted to the displaying of
+such objects, and the collection by private individuals of things was
+but little practised except in Rome, and even there collectors were
+comparatively few. However this may be, the fact remains that the
+portraits of the ancient world were in the main religious or
+commemorative, and the idea of friendship being maintained or
+strengthened by the possession of the dumb semblance of absent dear ones
+seems to have grown and spread with the Christian religion.
+
+At first sight it appears as if there were three ways of making
+portraits—the sculptor’s, the painter’s, and the writer’s. It is not
+however in any true sense a portrait that a writer sets before us. This
+is beyond his power to accomplish. He is unable, that is, to give
+various readers such impression of the look and carriage of the person
+described that they can inevitably recognise him in the passing crowd.
+Continuous and sequent events may be described by words, but they cannot
+show instantaneously isolated images. Masters of style can call up
+visions to the mind by well-selected epithets, but such visions are
+typical rather than actual; and they are of scenes of considerable
+scope, or of actions of dramatic quality, rather than accurate images of
+facial form and expression such as in the only true sense of the word,
+can be called portraits.
+
+So far as art in the sense of reproduction is concerned, it is evident
+that language can be used for description, for suggestions of moods and
+general conditions, but not for showing in a sharp and quickly defined
+manner a given scene or object at a given moment. When Shelley speaks of
+
+              The obscene ravens, clamorous o’er the dead;
+              The vultures to the conqueror’s banner true
+              Who feed where Desolation first has fed,
+              And whose wings rain contagion,—
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLIV.]
+
+he calls to mind most vividly conditions consequent on war, but before
+no two readers of the lines will the same visions rise. To see such
+horrors as Shelley writes of, presented so that all beholders will
+regard them in the same way, we must turn to such a work as Turner’s
+Rizpah.[25]
+
+The Greeks, it is interesting to note in this connection, recognised
+this limitation of the power of words and rarely tried to delineate the
+actors in their poetry and drama by other means than the description of
+traits of character. It may be said that the Greeks also did not attempt
+landscape in their writing. True, but we have every reason to know that
+the Greek mind was not interested seriously in beauties of landscape,
+while we know that it was deeply concerned with the characters and
+actions of individuals. Landscape was not studied by the Greeks as an
+end in itself, whereas portraiture was. Hence the absence of an attempt
+at portraiture in their literature by other means than description of
+character is the natural result of their mental tendencies. Such
+description can of course be accomplished by language with greater
+certainty than by sculpture or painting. It can give such an impression
+of the nature of a person that there is no more room for doubt
+concerning the qualities that constitute that nature than there is
+concerning the colour of eyes that have been put on canvas by some
+painter. Take any example and it will appear that when an author tries
+to stir the imagination to form an image of a character, he does it
+mainly by describing carefully his nature rather than his personal
+appearance, and when he attempts to do more than this, he suggests
+inevitably a different vision to every reader. Shakespeare’s sonnets are
+sufficient evidence of the truth of these statements.
+
+I should not wish to imply that writers, even the greatest of them, do
+not sometimes attempt to depict persons by elaborate descriptions, but a
+comparison of any two illustrated editions of an author will show my
+contention to be correct. The inefficiency of the means and the
+inadequacy of the result has been recognised by the masters of
+literature. And it needs but to compare a word portrait with a painted
+one of the same person to be convinced of the painter’s greater power in
+this work. Take Shelley’s lines describing the crazed musician:
+
+           There the poor wretch was sitting mournfully
+           Near a piano, his pale fingers twined
+           One with the other, and the ooze and wind
+           Rushed through an open casement, and did sway
+           His hair, and starred it with the brackish spray;
+           His head was leaning on a music book,
+           And he was muttering, and his lean limbs shook;
+           His lips were pressed against a folded leaf
+           In hue too beautiful for health, and grief
+           Smiled in their motions as they lay apart—
+           As one who wrought from his own fervid heart
+           The eloquence of passion, soon he raised
+           His sad meek face and eyes lustrous and glazed
+           And spoke—sometimes as one who wrote and thought
+           His words might move some heart that heeded not
+           If sent to distant lands.—
+
+As a portrait the failure of these verses lies in the fact that the
+attention of the reader is hurried on from point to point like a
+storm-driven bird and never allowed to rest. Look, for half the time it
+takes to read the lines, at Titian’s Concert, and you have a much more
+definite image of a musician. It is just because of this unrest of the
+attention, due to continued introduction of some new feature of
+importance, that poets and writers of prose are much more successful
+when they endeavour to reproduce a landscape, for it is a natural
+tendency, as we look at any scene of nature, for the eyes to wander over
+the hills and far away. They cannot seize the essential points
+instantaneously and they cannot apprehend the interrelation of the
+details as when they look at a person’s face and figure.
+
+Sometimes the poet—it is generally a poet, for the epithets that poets
+use are apt to be more carefully chosen and so have greater graphic
+force than those of prose writers—seems to succeed in portraiture, but
+if you will consider closely, it will be seen that the success is
+fictitious. It is due to our having a ready-formed picture of the
+character of the person described which is suited by the poet’s words,
+as in Browning’s lines:
+
+                  You know we French stormed Ratisbon,
+                      A mile or so away
+                  On a little mound Napoleon stood
+                      On our storming day
+                  With neck outthrust, you fancy how,
+                      Legs wide, arms locked behind,
+                  As if to balance the prone brow
+                      Oppressive with its mind.
+
+But to one who had never seen a picture of Napoleon what image would
+these lines give? Or, take Lowell’s lines on Lincoln. Not a word in them
+concerning the outward appearance of the Martyr Chief; but the attempt,
+successful to the uttermost, is made to impress on the reader’s mind
+what there was of him to think of, not to look at:
+
+            Wise, steadfast in the strength of God and true.
+
+These epithets offer no suggestion that can be visualised, nor is there
+when we note
+
+        ... that sure mind’s unfaltering skill
+        And supple tempered will
+        That bent like perfect steel to spring again and thrust.
+
+And then finally, to sum up:
+
+         Here was a type of the true elder race,
+         And one of Plutarch’s men talked with us face to face.
+
+Vivid and eloquent as all this is, it offers no picture of the tall,
+gaunt President. It is but a suggestion of mental conditions. It does
+not show the deep-set eyes, sorrowful with the sorrows of two races, or
+the firm mouth lined with the humour that helped him to bear his burden
+of care. Plutarch himself does not show us Cæsar, or Pericles, or
+Demosthenes or any other worthy, as the sculptors do.
+
+Possibly it might be suggested that in such poems as those quoted the
+writer had no intention of giving a suggestion of the outer husk that
+hides the inner man; but there is one class of poems—the love lyrics—in
+which the passion-driven bard would surely, could it be accomplished,
+give the immortality of portraiture to the beloved. But those “dear dead
+women,” the ever-renewing Spring brood of Sappho, Chloris, Lesbia,
+Lalage and Doris, are but the vague dwellers of dreamland. Sometimes
+they are dark and sometimes fair; they have cheeks that shame the rose,
+and eyes whose glance overwhelms as does the bolt of Jove; their brows
+are white as driven snow, and a nest for little loves is in their
+bosom—but can we ever be sure that we recognise from such description
+each particular Lesbia as, waiting and watching at the corner, we
+hopefully murmur “She comes, she’s here, she’s past”? Such words as
+these form a portrait only for that one love-stung heart that beats the
+overtone to the note of Lesbia’s footfall.
+
+No, the writer cannot, in any adequate sense, place before us portraits.
+
+Literature being excluded as a means of portraiture, it remains to
+consider sculpture and painting. In order to understand why painted and
+carved portraits showing similar types with equal distinctness and
+emphasis produce very different effects on the observer and hold his
+attention in different ways, study must be made of the different results
+possible to attain by these arts. If these general propositions in
+regard to the two arts be true, the demands and characteristics of
+portraiture will become plainer.
+
+The fundamental distinction between sculpture and painting lies in the
+fact that the former concerns itself not always, but primarily, with
+light and shadow and fully modelled forms, while the latter deals
+chiefly with colour. Furthermore, painting works in two dimensions,
+while sculpture exercises herself with three. Hence, figures in
+positions that are much contorted or groups that are complexly organised
+in retreating planes are unsuitable subjects for a painter, inasmuch as
+he cannot represent them clearly except at the expense of infinite
+labour. If the sculptor, on the other hand, chooses such subjects, he is
+not hampered by the difficulties that block the painter’s path. His
+finished work can be looked at from all sides, and he is not liable to
+the painter’s risk that his final effect may, perhaps, be ruined by a
+misuse of light and shade or by faulty drawing and perspective.
+
+The advantage, however, is not altogether on one side. The sculptor has
+this other difficulty to contend with, that the appearance of his work
+will change with every change of light. The painter can fix whatever
+light he pleases on his canvas. As the appearance of the sculptured work
+will vary with the light, the sculptor can attain but partial success in
+the representation of figures or scenes in which much active emotion is
+shown in the faces. But in such scenes as these a painter’s power can
+well be shown, since, owing to his ability to paint any power of light
+(except, of course, direct sunlight), and his power of placing the
+various figures of a group in various lights, and by means of varied
+tints and lights being able to bring sharply into notice any expression
+of the face, he can well depict most violent emotion. It will be found,
+I think, that the sculpture which is most successful deals with groups
+or figures whose meaning is made clear by action and by the form of the
+body as a whole, and the paintings that are most successful are those in
+which effects of chiaroscuro, colour and facial expression are the most
+satisfactory method for making the figure intelligible. Several facts
+which will be readily acknowledged show the truth of this statement. For
+instance, Veronese, Rubens, Tintoretto, Velasquez when painting scenes
+the interest of which depends on the individual figures appearing in
+them (not such scenes as Paradise, Hell or battles where the interest is
+in the masses and spaces), compose them mainly in one plane. Also if
+single heads be taken from pictures and from sculptured groups, it will
+usually be found that the former give a fuller impression of the
+artist’s intention than the latter.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLV.]
+
+Every rule has exceptions and among Michael Angelo’s sculptures are
+works in which he sought to reproduce effects of light and shade and
+expression that if given by painting would have been more successful
+because the latter would have expressed the artist’s intention more
+clearly; and in certain of his paintings he attempted effects of form
+that could be given more satisfactorily by sculpture. Done by any less a
+genius than Michael Angelo, such work would be either ineffective or
+laboured. Done by him one can but marvel at his mastery over the sister
+arts that enabled him to approach so closely to the effects proper to
+the one while using the means offered by the other. But such success as
+he attained does not prove soundness in the principles that led him to
+make the attempt. A _tour de force_ is but the attempt to attain a
+result by means other than the best. It may be successful, but it must
+be unsatisfactory. It is unreal, impractical; it is a form of jugglery!
+
+To see how similar scenes are treated in the two arts, compare the group
+of Niobe and her Children with the Massacre of the Innocents as painted
+by the Renaissance artists.[26] In such comparison trivial details must
+not be too much regarded, for of the Niobe group there consists but one
+incomplete set of copies of the original figures and of the Massacre of
+the Innocents each one of us probably considers a different artist’s
+conception of the scene most effective. But the general impression given
+by Niobe and her children is that of bodies driven into violent motion
+by fright, what might be called frightened motion; the figures are
+rushing from one spot to another in search of safety; they bend and
+cower in terror of the peril. They are the incarnation of dread of
+physical suffering. The impression of the Massacre of the Innocents is
+one of faces contorted by horror. The action of the bodies is of less
+concern. The attention is drawn to the eyes, the mouths, the hands, the
+three chief outlets of mental feeling. The sufferers in the scene are
+moved by the horror of unjustifiable slaughter. They are the incarnation
+of anger, revolt and despair induced by the sight of pitiless massacre.
+
+In portraiture the painter and sculptor are drawn together because the
+greatest interest of the work is centred in the face, which is the
+clearest index of thoughts and emotions. Both sculptors and painters
+even when making figures of life size are limited in portraiture to
+seeking their chief effects in the treatment of the face. But though so
+far working in common, the painter and sculptor still have different
+aims; for that part of the head the expression of which can be more
+strongly accented and more completely reproduced by the use of colour
+and a chosen shade and light, is the eyes; while that part the
+expression of which can be most adequately rendered by modelling is the
+mouth. This is the reason why portraits similar in style, such as those
+above mentioned, the bust of Pericles, and the painting of the Duke of
+Norfolk, attract our attention in different ways. In the bust the most
+noticeable feature is the firm but sensitive mouth, in the painting it
+is the steady, but vivid, eye.
+
+Mindful of these conditions that govern the art of portraiture we find
+it easy to see how the artists of various epochs have conformed to them.
+This may seem to be putting the cart before the horse; to be fitting the
+facts to the theory. But it is not so,—it is merely searching for proof
+of a working hypothesis. The theory was suggested by the phenomena and
+it will be seen to explain these phenomena.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLVI.]
+
+The study of Greek sculpture is at present seriously hampered by
+statements and beliefs concerning it which arose at a time when its
+place in the history of art was very inaccurately understood. These have
+been repeated so often that they are frequently accepted without being
+critically weighed in the light of recent knowledge. It is a unique and
+very perfect art, but the causes and qualities of its perfection are
+sometimes misunderstood. Justifiable admiration has out-weighed the
+critical faculties. It is generally thought to be more imaginative and
+ideal than is in fact the case. The quality of realism is not usually
+attributed to such a work as the portrait bust of Pericles. And yet this
+bust is quite as realistic, though not so prosaic, as that of the Roman
+general Corbulo. I mention these two because they are very generally
+known; but many others such as the Demosthenes, Sophocles, Cæsar,
+Caligula would do equally well. The word realism is reserved too much
+for those works in which the artist has represented the forms that would
+be first noticed by the casual observer and, in this limited sense, the
+Corbulo is far more realistic than the Pericles; but realism is just as
+truly displayed in works in which the forms, while reproducing those of
+the model, may perhaps not be the most obvious ones and though the
+juxtaposition of them be not their most common combination. In this
+sense the Pericles is as realistic as the Corbulo. Greek realism in
+portraits deals chiefly with faces and figures in repose; Roman realism
+deals in the main with faces and figures in action.
+
+It is noteworthy that portraiture was a late development of sculpture in
+Greece. We know, for instance, of no contemporary portraits of Solon or
+Peisistratus, and there exist in museums and private collections
+extremely few busts or statues of the period preceding the middle of the
+fifth century B.C., that have the character of portraits. One reason of
+this doubtless was the feeling that the success which brought fame in
+its train was due more to the Gods than to the individual. The
+individual was an accident in the exhibition of beneficent power by the
+Gods, and consequently, so far as form and feature are concerned, was of
+no special interest. Furthermore, there was the feeling that the fame of
+individuals was due to and a part of the fame of the whole state; hence
+the individual was not apt to overestimate his own value nor to be
+thought of by his neighbours with any such feeling of special respect as
+is expected by, and often granted to, those who are “self-made.”
+
+Over and above these causes was another which must have been largely
+responsible for the late development of portraiture and for its
+character when it began to be common. This was the Hellenic love of
+beauty. Divided though the Greeks were into numerous states, they were
+held together by bonds of language, tradition, religion and politics.
+But the bond that united them more strongly than all others, even than
+their hatred of barbarians, was their love of beauty. “Beauty the first
+of all things” says Isocrates “in majesty and honour and divineness.
+Nothing devoid of beauty is prized. The admiration of virtue itself
+comes to this, that, of all manifestations of life, virtue is the most
+beautiful.” The consequence of this feeling was to make the individual
+and imperfect man uninteresting to the artist while the general and
+typical figure became his supreme aim. When at last in the fifth century
+B.C. portraiture became more frequent than it had previously been, the
+perfect portrait was the one which gave most completely the impression
+of the general character of the man and not the one which gave the most
+vivid and striking representation of the separate features of his face.
+
+Curiously enough the first portrait we hear of in Greece was a
+caricature of the poet Hipponax by Bupalos and Athenis, artists of the
+sixth century B.C. While caricature was attempted as early as this, as
+is shown by the drama, by terra-cotta figurines and by vases such as
+those from the sanctuary of the Kabeiroi in Bœotia, it may be questioned
+whether such a portrait of Hipponax ever existed. The details of the
+story, such as the suicide of the artists owing to the satirical attacks
+of the poet, are scarcely credible, and if we remember the very strange
+and unlifelike appearance of archaic art it seems not improbable that
+the story arose in the attempt to explain some rude statue the true
+intention of which had been long forgotten or had not been clearly
+indicated. Even were it certain that such a caricature did once exist,
+the knowledge would be of no great interest, because caricatures are but
+a debased form of art. They are only the exaggeration of accidental
+physical peculiarities. If the traces of a warped or ill-developed
+character show in the face or figure, the representation of them may be
+made a caricature, but almost all so-called caricatures show not
+oddities of character but deformities of person. It is in literature, in
+the works of Molière or Shakespeare, rather than in sculpture or
+painting, that we find true caricatures. Not that they do not exist in
+the plastic arts, but the literary art lends itself more readily than
+the others to this mode of representation.
+
+Whatever the actual facts regarding the reported portrait of Hipponax
+may have been, it is not till about the first quarter of the fifth
+century (circ. 500–475) that we have undoubted evidence of portraiture.
+To that time belongs the bust of a bearded man wearing a helmet, in the
+Glyptothek in Munich. A replica of this work exists in the collection of
+Barrone Barracco in Rome. These two heads may well be copies of a statue
+of some victor in the games. As is known, portrait statues were allowed
+only to thrice victorious athletes, and they were erected not so much as
+an honour to the victor as to keep fresh the memory of one who had
+thrice been cherished by the Gods. But this rule governing the making of
+statues of athletes clearly shows what deep significance a statue was
+considered to express and the secondary importance to the Greek mind of
+keeping a record of personal appearance. Whether of a victor or not, the
+bust referred to belongs to the early period of development of the
+technique of sculpture, before it had been perfectly mastered, when the
+artist was able to represent not what he wanted to but what he was able
+to. Hence it is conventional; so much so that were it not for the helmet
+and the absence of any attribute of Divinity we could hardly be sure
+that it was intended as a portrait.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLVII.]
+
+Probably the best known example of portraiture produced during the
+period when the technique of sculpture was thoroughly understood and
+mastered, is the head of Pericles by Kresilas to which I have already
+made reference (Plate XLIV). It is a work of special importance owing to
+the interest attaching to the character of Pericles, but more
+particularly from the artistic point of view; and fortunately there
+exist several careful copies of it. These make us sure what its artistic
+character was,[27] and furthermore Pliny has handed down to us an
+estimate of the original work by a critic of the ancient world. This
+critic expressed concisely and epigrammatically the intention that is
+manifest in all Greek work of the best time, in saying that the bust of
+Pericles by Kresilas shows how art can make a noble man still
+nobler.[28] Now this can only be said of the best Greek and Italian
+work. And all work, no matter where or by whom produced, if wrought in
+the spirit which was shown more by Greek sculptors and Venetian painters
+than by other artists, may be described by such words. Such a criticism
+could not be made of most Roman or Florentine work. It can only be said
+of work in which the attempt is successfully made to suggest a perfected
+type by the improvement of an individual example, not of work the
+intention of which is to represent the individual example as the
+embodiment of special peculiarities with indifference as to their
+excellence or defects.
+
+The method adopted by Kresilas is not difficult to analyse. The
+character of Pericles was a rare and happy mixture of calmness,
+foresight, perseverance and sensitiveness. His power of understanding
+men and conditions, together with his quiet and steady pursuit of his
+aims, is shown by the course of his political policy. His sensitiveness
+is made clear by his unselfish ambitions, by his delight in works of the
+fine arts and by his chivalrous conduct towards Aspasia, whom general
+opinion, not confined to the ancient world, would have allowed him to
+disregard and forget, when for the sake of giving offence to him the
+populace attacked her character. Such was the man whom Kresilas had to
+portray, and with high artistic perception he chose his means.
+
+Kresilas, we can well understand, might have shown us Pericles the
+warrior, or Pericles the orator, or Pericles the lover of philosophy and
+the arts, and in doing so might have given a more striking impression of
+one or more of the special qualities by which his contemporaries were
+impressed. Instead of this he succeeded in setting before us the complex
+of all these qualities, and many more, that formed Pericles the man. The
+helmet lifted back from the face reminds us of his military career but
+does not force this on our attention.[29] The expression of the face is
+not in the least dreamy but is thoughtful and grave; an expression
+which, considering his life and friends, must have been habitual when he
+was in repose. It should not be forgotten that the attitudes assumed by
+the body when at rest show the presence or lack of inborn grace and
+dignity, and the expression of the face when in repose is an index to
+the mental nature. The expression of the eyes is open; the gaze is
+steady; the brow is undisturbed. The impression given by the eyes is of
+clear, highly developed intelligence. In the mouth which, as pointed out
+above, is the most indicative single feature in portrait sculpture, may
+be seen even more markedly than in the eyes, the man’s character. It is
+a very noticeable mouth, with full and softly modelled lips, lips such
+as usually suggest a weak and sensuous character. But this mouth is
+neither insignificant nor weak. Its great sensitiveness passes into
+firmness in the closure of the lips and the strong jaw, and shows itself
+not as that of an ungoverned and libitudinous nature, but of a reserved
+and, in the best way, sensitive quality. It is a mouth that implies
+vigour but not self-will; the mouth of a very sensitive and
+appreciative, but not a sensual man.
+
+Besides the character of eyes and mouth, the treatment of the whole head
+must be studied in order to understand what the critic meant when he
+wrote that this work made a noble man still nobler. The treatment is
+broad. The minor and accidental details are disregarded that the general
+effect may be clearer. The curling hair of head and beard, for instance,
+is not tossed about in disordered masses, as so often in later works,
+but is conventionalised. The artist realised that he could not imitate
+hair, and consequently sought for the best graphic symbol by which to
+suggest curls. In the modelling of the face he chose an expression of
+quietness and not one of any fitful, momentary emotion; and by not
+representing any slight irregularities of surface or structure, he
+emphasised and made more inevitably noticeable that expression which was
+most completely indicative of the man’s essential nature. He has given
+us not alone Pericles the leader of the state, nor Pericles the patron
+of the fine arts, nor Pericles the impassioned orator, but the Pericles
+of history, the embodiment of all the best qualities bred in Athens.
+
+It must not be thought that the Pericles head alone exhibits the
+qualities of both artist and sitter which I have attempted to suggest.
+In their various ways the portraits of Sophocles, Euripides,
+Demosthenes, the so-called Menander (Plate XLV), Periander (Plate XLVI)
+and many another famous Greek show similar æsthetic feeling.
+
+It was but a short time after the death of Pericles that the
+intellectual conditions of Greece underwent a great change. Beliefs
+that, heretofore, had been universally held by the Greeks began to be
+questioned, and the conditions of state-craft passed into a new phase.
+The rise and fall of the Macedonian power was of lasting effect on the
+Greek character. Alexander exhibits the type, which became common again
+in the Renaissance, of the selfish despot who maintained his power by
+having the money to maintain his personal influence. His thoughts were
+set chiefly on his own personal glory as expressed in his empire. He
+tried, but unsuccessfully, to make his court the centre of the artistic
+life of the day. He was not a patron of the arts but of artists. To
+Lysippus alone was granted the right to carve his portrait. No natural
+development of the arts was possible under such conditions.
+
+The granting of such a monopoly to Lysippus shows that Alexander was
+merely interested in producing on posterity a good effect so far as his
+portraits could help him to do so. Copies of some of these portraits
+exist. They are fine in many ways and, to a high degree, lifelike, but
+they and other similar works of the epoch lack the quietness and repose
+of the works of earlier times. There is a melodramatic feeling in the
+looser treatment of the hair, and, oftentimes, an attempt to give a
+superhuman expression to the face.
+
+These qualities, as critics have often noticed, are to be found in all
+the forms of art of the time, so far as we now have the means of
+judging. Even in architecture there is a noticeable change. Stone is not
+laid so carefully, the cutting of details is coarser and mouldings are
+heavier; masses are less finely proportioned and the effects of light
+and shade are made more definite and striking. The miniature portraits
+on gems and coins show the same characteristics as the large busts, and
+the mere fact of putting portraits of contemporary rulers on the coinage
+shows that the relation of the individual to the state had changed and
+that, on the one hand, the desire for personal fame was spreading over
+the world—a desire which became still more marked in the Roman and
+Renaissance epochs; while on the other the worship of rulers, introduced
+from the Orient, had firmly entrenched itself. In fact, these
+Hellenistic portraits are not simple. While the technique is still
+Greek, there is something else in them than the desire of the artist to
+show the sitter as he appeared to his contemporaries, even in a rightly
+idealised manner,—they manifest the desire of the sitter to be admired.
+
+The tendencies of the time were all towards exactness of representation
+of existing forms, and this was soon attained. Perhaps it would have
+been reached even sooner had it not been for certain interests which
+held the sculptors partially to the old-time aims. One such conservative
+influence is shown in the work of Silanion, who became famous for his
+portraits of persons dead long before his day. Such work, if it was to
+satisfy a large public, and this was what it aimed at and succeeded in
+doing, had to be of a broad, general and unemphasized character, for the
+nature and appearance of persons known only by tradition is necessarily
+more vaguely and variously observed, less easily and surely grasped,
+than that of the living. Hence, if Silanion had made portraits that
+suggested strongly what seemed to him the most vital characteristic of
+the person represented, he would probably have found that many of his
+contemporaries considered some very different characteristic the most
+essential. To please the many it was needful for his work to embody only
+those ideas that were generally accepted. Such work cannot be realistic
+in the sense of attracting attention to detailed peculiarities.
+
+Greek portraiture became rapidly more and more prosaically realistic.
+But even in its last stages, when Greek artists were still employed by
+Greek patrons, the realism is generally restrained. The old
+conventionalism and typifying of the model is gone, and there is greater
+frankness in the rendering of special peculiarities of hair or skin; but
+the work is generally quiet and dignified, calm in expression and
+reposeful in action. The artist puts before us not the type and idea
+suggested by the man, nor, except in special cases, the man’s own desire
+regarding his appearance, but the real daily aspect of the man, dressed
+up not at all, treated in accordance with the essential rules of
+sculpture as a fine art.
+
+That there were, however, some artists who amused themselves
+and a thoughtless public with portraits that were vulgarly
+realistic—realistic, that is, in the representation of ugly and
+unessential details—is shown by what we know of Demetrius of Alopeke. He
+is noted solely for his successful rendering of ugliness. But there was
+too much cultivated taste in what remained of the Greek world, and too
+much vigour and good sense in the growing Roman world, for such work to
+become popular. To see realism developing in a strong and healthy
+manner, we must turn to Rome where, though the actual carving was done,
+with few exceptions probably, by Greek workers, still the character of
+the work itself was controlled by Roman ideas (Plate XLVII).
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLVIII.]
+
+The dry, matter of fact quality of Roman portraiture as opposed to the
+more imaginative work of the Greeks, has long been recognised. Its
+direct and unadorned presentation of the human face is noted by the most
+careless observer and is to most people pleasing. It makes them feel at
+ease; they have the sensation of being with real people; it does not
+demand of them a mental effort to analyse the appearance before them in
+order to understand it. But notwithstanding the facility with which one
+derives very definite, and it may be lasting, impressions from these
+Roman busts, they are by no means as simple and artless as they seem at
+first sight to be. They are the product of complex influences and a
+highly developed art and are as difficult to understand and properly
+appreciate as are the earlier Greek ones.
+
+We may illustrate what has been said by glancing a moment at a portrait
+of an unknown old man[30] (Plate XLVIII). This is a superb example of
+Roman portraiture of the time of the Republic. It cannot lay claim to
+any beauty of form or feature; it is uncompromisingly homely.
+Nevertheless it has a certain fascination for the beholder. The sculptor
+was a great master. The way in which he has rendered the signs of old
+age in the withered neck, the irregular wrinkles of the brow, and the
+uneven mouth is magnificent. It is realism of a perfect kind, for the
+evidence of the wear and tear of life is subdued by and made minor to
+the splendid and enduring vigour of the mind and character behind the
+cheerful old face. What an old age! The sap may be running slow, the
+body may show the blows dealt by life, but the stiff, short hair is
+still thick, the head is still held upright and forward. It is a face of
+a clean-living, plain-thinking man, one who had “held both hands before
+the fires of life,” and seems to scarcely suppress a smile at the
+thought that any one should want the portrait of his old face.
+
+Roman art, as a whole, was practical and uninspired, and far from
+imaginative. In large measure it served either to answer some definite
+practical end or to satisfy (as in the decoration of palaces) the Roman
+taste for grandeur and display. It shows the influence of a less
+full-hearted and unquestioning religious inspiration than that which had
+such marked effect on the early art of Greece and again in the
+Renaissance. The work of all the various branches of art produced in the
+Roman territory before the importation of Greek artists was of the
+rudest. It was necessary to employ Etruscans to decorate the temple of
+the Capitoline Jove and until the first century before Christ the
+artistic product of Rome seems to have been scanty. The energies of the
+people were expended in war and colonisation. They were essentially a
+commercial race. The existence of their city was derived from and
+depended on their control of foreign trade. The first necessity of such
+a city was to master the business of political organisation and not to
+cultivate the tastes that minister to affluence and ease. Pride of race
+and the acquisition of great wealth were results of the transformation
+of the small republic into the great empire, and with pride and money
+came luxury, and the arts, with the desire for portraits.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE XLIX.]
+
+Pliny tells of portraits made of wax, owned by the various families,
+which were carried in funeral processions,—how these were considered as
+belonging to the house and in case of the sale of the latter passed with
+it to the new owner; such portraits as these would, like the earlier
+Egyptian ones, tend to the purest realism of external appearance. He
+mentions also the muniment rooms filled with records of ancestors.
+Stress was laid on the actions of the illustrious dead in order that the
+ensuing generations might be stirred to ambitious effort. Very different
+is this from the Grecian sinking of the individual in the state. Roman
+tombstones exhibit the same pride in great deeds and the same interest
+in details. They are entirely different from the Greek grave monuments.
+The Greek gives the name of the deceased, and sometimes a greeting to
+the living wayfarer who may pass by and note the tomb; or, sometimes he
+inscribed a plaintive verse—the expression of a broken heart—but nothing
+more. How old were the dead? What had they done? No one now can tell.
+Their course was run and the restless curiosity of later ages must
+remain unsatisfied. On Roman tombstones all this is very different. They
+tell us the age and family of the deceased, their occupation, what
+offices they had held and their age even to days. In the cases where a
+portrait of the dead person is added, it is treated in no general and
+typical way; but the individual is set before us with unsparing
+accuracy.
+
+This interest in the events of each individual life led to the chief
+difference between Roman and Greek portrait busts. The Roman thought of
+the great men of his country as the persons who had done such and such
+things rather than as the leaders of such and such policies.
+Consequently, the Roman portraits suggest activity and not
+repose,—action and not thought. The idea embodied in the bust is not of
+a placid and meditative but of a positive and active cast. The
+portraitist seems almost always to represent his sitters at the moment
+when they were accomplishing the great deed that brought them fame. The
+eyes are made expressive by being distinctly focussed, and this
+expression is emphasised by the treatment of the brow, which oftentimes
+is more or less wrinkled or contracted in a way that suggests vigorous,
+passing, mental action. In many cases the ball of the eye is cut so as
+to produce a strong shadow and thus to suggest the pupil. This also
+makes the fixed look more intense, but unless the light is exactly right
+it is apt to produce an unpleasant appearance.
+
+That an artist should do this shows the desire for dramatic, restless
+effects. The treatment of the lips and the part of the face about the
+mouth also suggests an expression not typical of any general trend of
+thought so much as of some momentary and strong emotion. Then the way
+the head is set on the neck and turns sharply to one side or the other
+can be understood only by supposing that the artist represented the
+sitter as he appeared when employed on some one active and
+characteristic piece of work. There is, for instance, in Corbulo none of
+the Greek treatment of the individual as a type, but everything is done
+to make more prominent the individualities of the man. And just as the
+Pericles is not alone in its class, so too the Corbulo is matched by
+many others, such as the Julius Cæsar, the Augustus, Caracalla or
+Antoninus Pius (Plate XLIX).
+
+[Illustration: PLATE L.]
+
+As one looks at these Roman portraits one frequently feels that the
+persons are on the point of moving. But notwithstanding this quality of
+life which has led to their being called realistic, the best of them are
+no more merely superficial in their realism than the best Greek busts.
+Neither class is vulgarly realistic and imitative solely in the
+external, but both depend for their effect on the correct comprehension
+and presentation of actual phenomena of form and facial expression. The
+different effect they produce is due to the fact that the Greek desired
+an expression of the inner man, the man as he was to himself, while the
+Roman desired the expression of the man as he showed himself to others.
+Putting the case concisely, and remembering that such conciseness does
+not express the completest truth, we may say that one was the portrait
+of man as a thinker, the other of man as a doer.
+
+In the foregoing explanation of the nature of Roman portraits, no
+account has been taken of the numerous beautiful busts of children and
+women that were carved by the sculptors of the Eternal City. At first
+sight these seem to contradict the contention that the almost universal
+intention of the Roman sculptor was to make a portrait of a single
+sharply defined phase of his sitter’s personality. They seem to be done
+rather in accordance with Greek taste; but closer study will reveal that
+they are not truly Greek,—that their real nature is Roman and their
+seeming Grecian spirit is an illusion due to accident and not to
+intention.
+
+Busts of children or women made to show character in action could never
+resemble the Roman busts of men. The qualities that make the character
+of men are non-existent, or at least undeveloped, in the child, and in
+the woman take another form. The Greek by his generalising and typifying
+process which brought about the production of placid figures was led to
+express chiefly those qualities which produce similar effects in all
+faces. The Roman, though searching for active expression still noted in
+the child as the most beautiful and characteristic qualities, softness,
+roundness and breadth of modelling, and the dignity of infantine
+demeanour. Hence the Roman heads of children have a somewhat Greek look,
+but in every part, as for example the hair, where stress can be laid on
+accidental and purely individual appearance, this is done (Plate L). The
+Greek appearance was inherent in the object; the most suggestive symbol
+to express curled or straight locks was sought, but to carve hair in all
+its fairness of strand, in all its waving masses or its fantasticalities
+of fashion, was not the aim of the sculptor. In Roman work the hair is
+scarcely ever conventionalised in a Grecian manner but shows the fashion
+of the day. Usually, the head is not symmetrically placed, but is turned
+to one side or the other, implying that the child’s attention was
+attracted to some special object.
+
+The same points are to be noted in the portraits of women. In their
+faces as in children’s the beauty and softness of feature led to
+something like a Greek breadth of modelling, but the hair and the action
+of the head are purely Roman (Plate LI).
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LI.]
+
+The Florentine portraits show these same characteristics. Among them
+also the children and women seem at first glance to be Grecian or
+Venetian in character, but, when looked at more closely, one sees that
+those features which are not mere copies of nature but which show
+artistic intention are not Venetian, nor Greek, in character, but Roman.
+Yet another class of Florentine monuments which are at first sight
+misleading in the same way are the recumbent statues on tombs. In these
+the Greek quality of quietness and repose is very marked and is due to
+the artist being called upon to represent faces modelled by the stilling
+touch of death and no longer to be thought of as showing active forces.
+But even in these figures the intense actuality of feature, the lack of
+conventionalising and typifying, is noticeable. In fact there is little
+doubt that oftentimes the artist did his work not from sketches of the
+living model but from a death mask.
+
+If now we consider from a more general point of view this art of
+portraiture and its relationship to times and peoples, certain things
+become clear. Portraiture may be due, as in Egypt, to some religious
+motive, but this is uncommon. Where it develops as an art, simply for
+its æsthetic value, we note that it becomes a general practice only as
+ideal and imaginative work loses ground. While the Greeks never, in a
+certain sense, showed much imagination in their sculpture, it is
+unquestionable that towards the end of the fifth century B.C., when
+portraiture becomes prominent, the idealising and religious works
+decrease and deteriorate. The same truth holds good in Italy during the
+Renaissance, when much more imagination was shown than in Greece.[31]
+Portraiture is due to a family interest in its own members or to a
+people’s interest in an individual. It is not practised (for artists
+such as Silanion are not true _portraitists_) by the artist to please
+himself.
+
+But whatever may be the interests, private or public, that call for
+portraiture, the art becomes common only in times of centralisation,
+times when large fortunes, and hence great power, are possessed by
+individuals. Furthermore, no matter who may be the persons represented
+(setting aside women and children) it is not possible to carve or paint
+them except in one of two ways, as an embodiment of thought, or as an
+embodiment of action. The former method appealed to Greeks and
+Venetians,—the latter better pleased the Romans and Florentines. Both
+are realistic because both strive to show in one way or another actually
+existent forms and expressions. It depends on each man’s natural
+temperament which will give him most satisfaction. Other methods are
+frequently adopted in the modern struggle for originality, but it is
+safe to say that they will exert little influence on the development of
+art, for, while they may be clever devices, while they make certain
+effective features particularly prominent, they are still unsatisfactory
+because they produce at best but a partial likeness. If it be granted
+that there are but two great methods of portraiture, there is yet no
+reason to fear that dulness will ensue. The interest excited by the
+individual man comes from the character shown.
+
+There are just double as many portraits, potentially, as there are
+individuals, and the interest of portraiture lies in what the artist
+makes us comprehend of the nature of the man. Too often the public is
+deceived into thinking that the work of handicraftsmen, with little or
+no power of reading and understanding character, is to be judged as true
+portraiture. Such work may be decorative in chiaroscuro, it may be
+pleasant as colour; but the mere drawing of a face, even if what is
+called a good likeness is produced, is not portraiture. It is but the
+outer husk and dead wrapping hiding the vital germ within.
+
+
+
+
+                    II. PHEIDIAS AND MICHAEL ANGELO
+
+
+Different as were the lives and works of the two sculptors whose names
+are more familiar to us than those of any others, there were,
+nevertheless, many circumstances of closely related character that
+affected their careers. But apart from such circumstances the
+consideration of even those influences which were absolutely different
+in the one case and in the other, exhibits clearly some of the broader
+laws of the art practised by them both. In truth, it is the art rather
+than the individual style of the sculptors that is worth study, for the
+art is a language, the works but the expression of single ideas; the one
+is a perpetual and constantly varying power, the other but separate
+thoughts expressed.
+
+Naturally the two interests, one that of becoming more familiar with the
+products of the “fine intelligence of noble minds,” the other the more
+abstract one of a more intimate knowledge of the powers and
+possibilities of one of the fine arts, are inextricably combined. The
+study of the two sculptors mentioned is particularly interesting owing
+to the ever-increasing production of sculpture in our own day; and owing
+to various conditions in modern life, there is a close relationship in
+many important matters between us and these two masters of days long
+past. Therefore, whatever can be certainly learned about them will help
+us to appreciate more truly the work and workers of to-day and
+to-morrow. Nothing can help more to attain this appreciation and
+sympathy than the study of the great workers of past ages, even when
+they may to a casual glance seem to be of somewhat remote interest.
+
+The work of men such as Pheidias and Michael Angelo cannot be considered
+by any serious student as in fact remote from our time and interests.
+The study of the Past, particularly that part filled by Greece, becomes
+every day more and more general and the influence of the Renaissance in
+Italy upon modern thought and work is seen on every hand; here we come
+to the first noteworthy fact regarding these two sculptors. It is not
+going too far to say that all the best Greek sculpture, that is to say,
+what was produced during the latter half of the fifth century before
+Christ and the fourth century, was strongly influenced by Pheidias and
+that his influence shows itself intermittently until the end of the
+ancient world.
+
+It would of course be too much to claim Pheidias as the originator of
+all the qualities in sculpture which are apt, nowadays, to be named
+Pheidian, but as the master who most adequately expressed the ideals
+held in his time so far as sculpture allowed of their expression, he may
+be used as the type; and among the varied interests which Michael Angelo
+and the other students of the Renaissance found in Greek work were
+several that may properly be called Pheidian.
+
+This influence of Greek work on the Renaissance can hardly be over
+estimated. It shows itself in many ways and with varying
+force,—sometimes producing direct imitation of ancient works, then again
+becoming manifest in new work done with the intention of reviving the
+spirit of the ancient world. Michael Angelo did not fall under the spell
+as completely as many of his less vigorously original contemporaries,
+but it was no more to be entirely avoided by him than one of the laws of
+nature. Thus with the work of the Greeks directly affecting us to-day in
+a very similar way to that in which it affected the Italians in the
+fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and with the work of the later
+period, deeply tinctured with the Grecian dye, also influencing us, it
+becomes deeply interesting to find in what the greatest artists of the
+two periods were alike and wherein they differed one from the other.
+
+The influence of Pheidias on the art of his race was not so much that of
+the originator or inventor as it was that of the poet, who gathering the
+various and unconnected beauties that are felt by all, though less
+keenly than by him, binds them together by the indefinable power of his
+genius and gives back to the admiring world not separate things of
+beauty but a standard of the beautiful and perfect. And this power of
+genius deals with such finenesses, is so subtle, that oftentimes it is
+almost beyond the power of words to make clear the manner of its
+working. As the sensitiveness of the photographic plate is greater than
+that of the eye, so the trained and perceptive eye notes much that can
+only with difficulty be expressed by words. The genius is felt, it
+thrills and vivifies the observer, but it cannot be expounded like a
+problem in mathematics.
+
+For this reason, we must believe, the few great writers on these matters
+are oftentimes scoffed at by persons whose eyes have not been trained to
+see nor their hearts to understand. Not that the scoffers can be blamed
+for this unhappy sterility of their powers, for in most cases the
+circumstances of life have not been of that fortunate kind which would
+enable them to acquire the finer faculties. They are only to be blamed
+in so far as either through envy or stupidity they refuse to believe
+that others may be endowed with power which is lacking to them—power
+dependent upon long and arduous training. It is a curious but familiar
+phenomenon that the person who will not hesitate an instant to admit
+that the trained rider or sportsman or oarsman can ride, shoot or row
+better than he can, will energetically claim for himself as fine-seeing
+an eye, or a mind as keenly interpretative, as the practised artist or
+the scholar. That is, he asserts that the exercises of the body need
+training, but those of eye and brain do not, a theory manifestly absurd.
+
+The genius of Pheidias is so ultimate in its fineness that it needs long
+training before it can be properly appreciated. If this is doubted, one
+has but to consider the fact, that among all the numerous references to
+him and his work which are preserved for us in ancient writers, not one
+mentions him, as his elder contemporaries Myron, Pythagoras, Kalamis or
+many others are mentioned, as having been the first to institute any
+particular detail of carving. No new treatment of the hair, no new way
+of representing the body, no special scheme of proportion are attributed
+to him, and yet the absolute consensus of opinion was that he was the
+unrivalled master of them all. Fashions changed, and a new one, that of
+making collections, arose, which demanded the satisfaction of individual
+tastes, but Pheidias’s fame knew no eclipse.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LII.]
+
+Besides this subtle quality in his genius, this weaving of the various
+beautiful threads spun by others into one consummate stuff, there are
+other qualities that render his work difficult to appreciate. One is
+that the ideals both of religion and of life were very different from
+those of to-day, so that we have to lay aside all preconceived notions
+and at first regard him as children who wonder but do not understand.
+This is the hardest task the student ever has to master, to free himself
+from the bonds of the conventions, beliefs and circumstances common to
+his own day and study the work of another time with (so far as he can
+accomplish it) an understanding sympathy with the conventions, beliefs
+and circumstances belonging to those other days. Still a further
+difficulty lies in the fact that there does not exist in the world one
+single work of which we can say: this is truly and completely by
+Pheidias. The marble figures from the Parthenon show his quality in many
+respects clearly but these we know were worked upon by assistants. Other
+works by him exist in copies, but for the most part these copies can be
+shown to be bad and should be used as evidence only with the utmost
+care. Yet, notwithstanding these difficulties, the image that we have of
+him is, it can scarcely be doubted, clearly defined in the main
+outlines.
+
+How different is all this in the case of Michael Angelo! Here our
+embarrassment is of a character diametrically opposed and comes from the
+fact that we are so burdened with details about his life and work that
+the really important matters are partially obscured by trivialities.
+Contemporaries and fellow-workmen wrote his life; his letters and poems
+have been preserved; documents of all sorts regarding his works exist,
+and the works themselves are where they can be easily seen.
+
+Beyond all these aids to our knowledge of the man we have, again, the
+more vital one that the age in which he lived is almost as well
+understood as our own, and many of the greater currents of thought and
+action were but little different to those of the present time. Unlike
+the Pheidian time, but like to-day, his was not a period when
+governments deeply believed in the protection of their Gods nor one in
+which the individual was scarcely considered except as a detail of the
+state, nor when portrait statues were almost unknown. Conquest for the
+love of gain, and commonwealths subdued to one will, were the rule. The
+truly Greek period in the development of Italy, the time of the
+blossoming of Venice, of Siena, of Florence had given way to the
+Alexandrian epoch. Though the idea that the will of the masses should
+govern the state was fortunately not yet formulated, the development of
+individualism was well under way, and instead of men governing their
+lives by general ideals they all sought to raise themselves on the
+shoulders of their less fortunate brothers to enjoy a little while the
+glory of a special and peculiar fame. Hence called as he was to lend his
+power to the satisfaction of such desires as these, Michael Angelo’s
+work was in many cases, in those, that is, where he was working for a
+master other than his own instinct, tinged with a character utterly out
+of accord with that of Pheidias, and yet curiously enough even in these
+works there are signs of a strong undercurrent of feeling which would
+have bound him and Pheidias together as the most sympathetic friends,
+thus showing that at bottom art is not governed by circumstance of time
+or place.
+
+There were however certain very important aspects in which life as
+Michael Angelo saw it in Italy, and particularly in Florence, was
+curiously similar to what it was in Athens in the fifth century B.C. The
+climate and general appearance of the two countries is even now not
+unlike, and it must have been much less so in the time when the hills of
+Greece were so forest-grown that Pan and the nymphs could really live in
+comfort there, and before modern improvements had eradicated many of the
+individual peculiarities of Italy. Then too the habits of the cultivated
+classes were similar. Under very different forms the principles of
+education seem to have been the same. The schooling shown in
+Castiglione’s Cortegiano is like that given the Grecian youth. It was an
+education which comprised, both in Greece and in Italy, music, drawing,
+a knowledge of the thought and actions of past generations and a mastery
+of all those exercises that conduced to self-defence or to the more
+perfect development of the body. Similar training naturally taught the
+men of these two worlds to see life in very similar ways, and although
+the teachings of the Catholic Church were very different from those of
+the Greek religion in regard to the relations between men and women, yet
+life and instinct were stronger than the holy teachings, and in this
+point too the simplicity and naturalness of the Greek found its
+counterpart in Italy.
+
+It is easy to see that the power exerted by these various influences on
+the art of sculpture was very great, more so even than on the sister art
+of painting, for it is on the realisation of what constitutes a fine
+body, on the equal simplicity of treatment of the woman’s form and the
+man’s, and the knowledge of what ideas can be best interpreted in terms
+of form, that the art of sculpture depends. Art is but the translation
+of emotion, and each particular art has a particular way of
+accomplishing the translation; and in this, painting and sculpture are
+more closely connected than any two other arts, so much so that
+sculptors in the two greatest periods—the Greek and the
+Renaissance—rarely considered their work as finished until the power of
+colour had been used to heighten the effect, and often practised the two
+arts coincidently. But during these two periods the limits imposed by
+the materials of the various arts were clearly recognised and closely
+adhered to, and in the best sculpture of the Renaissance there is no
+more attempt to represent landscape or other purely colour effects than
+in the Parthenon. Sometimes, however, as in the drapery of the Moses or
+the modelling of the Pietà in St. Peter’s, Michael Angelo does seem to
+overstep the limits of sculpture and to seek for effects which could be
+more simply and much more intelligibly given in painting than in stone;
+effects that need the manifold devices of light and shade and colour
+which are at the disposal of the painter rather than the sculptor.
+
+This is, however, a rare weakness in the works of Michael Angelo, and
+one that apparently never entered those of Pheidias. One reason for this
+is that the art of painting was more completely comprehended in Italy
+than in Greece, and the Italian artists, more commonly than the Grecian,
+practised both arts. Hence, great painter as well as great sculptor,
+endowed with a readiness of hand, such as scarcely any other artist ever
+had, to reproduce whatever his mind imaged, it is no wonder that Michael
+Angelo at times went beyond the bounds of one art and seemed magically
+to interfuse the beauties of both of them. It would have been a greater
+wonder had he not done so. It was not a sign of his weakness so much as
+of his strength, of the inability of any one art to satisfy the artist’s
+desire and ideal. In this greater complexity, which shows at times in
+the detail of his work, Michael Angelo differed from Pheidias, but,
+almost invariably, the two artists, while differing in their feeling for
+line, or gesture, or substance, treat the human figure and its
+accessories in the same way. In both one sees a distinct and necessary
+dwelling on the nude.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LIII.]
+
+Where the human figure is chosen as the object of a work of art, there
+are but two chief means by which to represent the emotions it contains,
+one the expression of the face, one the action of the body as a whole.
+It is in the representation of the face, the most palpable index of the
+emotions, that painting, with its power over almost infinitesimal lights
+and shades, finds fullest scope for its power, while it is in the
+greater lines of the frame and the larger gestures that sculpture
+satisfies herself. So it is that in the sculptural work of both Michael
+Angelo and Pheidias one finds drapery treated not, as was distinctly the
+case in the statues of Praxiteles, for its own special beauty apart from
+the whole work, but as a means of emphasising the beauty of the body
+whose details it hid.
+
+Look at the group of three women from the western pediment of the
+Parthenon, or the Lemnian Athena, or the Caryatids of the Erechtheum
+(Plate LII)—for these are utterly Pheidian in character even if not by
+the master himself—or the figures on the frieze of the Parthenon (Plate
+LVII) or the Hegeso relief. In all these the drapery ripples over the
+shoulders and breasts, breaking in great falls around the waist and legs
+to disappear and fade away in little curling waves around the feet, not
+hiding the soft details of the figure underneath but serving rather as a
+frame to emphasise the beauties and set them in true relation to the
+surroundings. That there was any ethical need of hiding the figure would
+have seemed the height of absurdity to the Greek or the Italian. Out of
+the dark it comes and back to the dark it goes in this Adamite
+condition, so why should the artist not use it so if it serves his
+purpose?
+
+Thus it has been used in all times when there was a vital art, and such
+times have been distinguished for greater sanity of thought and health
+of body than when art was governed by mediæval fanaticisms. Michael
+Angelo’s figures are as distinguished for this quality as are those
+shaped by the Grecian chisel. His feeling for the value of the nude is
+so strong that he can hardly suffer the drapery at all. The Moses, the
+Madonnas, the Medici Princes are to all intents in large measure
+undraped. Considered as draped figures they distinctly lack the
+temperance and quiet nobility of the Greek figures, for the reason that
+although his feeling towards the relation of draped and nude parts is
+the same, Michael Angelo does not attain his end in as consummate a way.
+He makes too sharp a distinction between the parts that are really
+draped, the parts that are but seem not to be, and the nude. But in one
+point of this same nature the two artists are completely alike. They
+both regarded the human figure from the purely artistic point of view as
+a means to suggest certain ideas. The religious meaning, the question as
+to its sanctity or unhallowedness, no more occurred to them than to
+question the advisability of warming themselves before the fire when
+they were cold because there were fires in Hell. They were completely
+natural.
+
+In regard to the lack of complexity and to the greater repose, it may be
+admitted that Pheidias has the advantage over Michael Angelo whose
+works, true index as they are of his character, suffered from the time
+in which he lived—his character suffered and hence his work. His was a
+time of scepticism and hence of worry. The tranquillity that marked the
+Greek mind was rarely found in his day. Aretino was planting the
+destructive roots of modern journalism, and except, in a way marked by
+strong affectation, at certain courts, one would have had to go far to
+find Platonic Symposia or Olympic gatherings. The cloudy brow of Michael
+Angelo himself as well as of many of his figures is a sign how the
+perplexity of the times preyed upon the sculptor and in turn affected
+not only the chief motive of many of his works but also their very
+details.
+
+And, if we admit the truth, this worry and perturbation is more natural
+to us than is the Greek grace and calm which, to those who do not
+understand the time, seems unnatural and forced. It was not so, however.
+The Greek was never forced, but though he felt intensely, he considered
+that the possession and exercise of control over emotion was as much to
+be desired as the power which found expression in beating back barbarian
+hordes. The tenderness of Greek friendships is proverbial, but the whole
+tone of Greek tragedy is of passion held in check,—carried in the heart
+rather than worn on the face. Slaves and servants gave way to noisy
+grief, but not their masters. A Greek of the Periclean age could
+scarcely have understood the worn, wearied, soul-troubled look of the
+Pensieroso. It was not that the Greek was unimpassioned, but he never
+let his passions govern him. He guided them as a rider guides a restive
+horse—as the youths on the Parthenon guide theirs—calming and soothing
+them lest the animal become the master and break away from the chosen
+path.
+
+This difference in the character of the two races was due largely to
+religion, which had the most marked effect on the work produced in the
+two countries. One is apt to think, when one sees the limitless mass of
+churches, decorated by painter and sculptor, in Italy, and the unending
+array of lesser works of distinctly religious intent, that no art could
+be more religious than that of Italy. But just as in the conduct of
+individuals it is the spirit rather than the form of action that is the
+true index to their character, so in art it is the feeling the work
+shows, and not merely its outer form, which indicates its true nature
+and value. Now not merely in the number of religious works was Greece in
+the Periclean days as distinguished as ever Italy was, but she was far
+more noteworthy, in that her religion was a much more vital impulse than
+that of Italy. This is certainly true of the Periclean as opposed to the
+Medicean age.
+
+In the light of present knowledge the circumstances that led to these
+conditions are discernible. Like every innocent race the Greeks had a
+firm belief in the Gods, beings developed in their minds by very varied
+influences, and for the most part not of a character to serve as guides
+to ideal conduct after the race had once gained the capacity for using
+its mind in a logical way. One or two of these beings were, however, as
+noble as any such conceptions at any time. This power to use the mind
+rationally was not yet a national possession when Pheidias grew up. It
+was just becoming so. The development of the mind, the strength of it,
+was there, but for a few decades circumstances turned the thoughts of
+the people away from philosophic consideration to more ecstatic modes in
+which old conceptions were clung to with passionate fondness and made
+more beautiful, but a change of belief was the work of a following
+generation.
+
+These circumstances were chiefly a consequence of the Persian Wars.
+Greece was threatened with destruction. Athens was harried, and the
+glories of the Acropolis were razed to the ground. Phœnix-like they
+disappeared in fire to have an image of themselves more splendid in its
+youth and vigour rise as a light to all the world. But though the
+barbarian had for a moment seemed master of the situation, the Greeks
+had, with the active help of the Gods, been the final victors and it was
+in the service of thanks to their divine helpers that Pheidias found his
+chief employment. It was only in the very early years of the Renaissance
+that the Italians experienced any such miracles as those which
+Pheidias’s elder contemporaries had known—as, for instance, at the
+battle of Ravenna—and the effect on them then was much the same as it
+had been on the Greeks. It was the actual presence of the Gods at
+critical moments that stirred the Greeks. In Athens Athena’s snake led
+them to safety, at Salamis the Aiakidoi inspired the heroes with their
+battlecry, and Pan himself urged the weary messenger over the mountain
+passes. The Greeks no more doubted that their victory was due to
+assistance lent them by the Gods than that there had been a war. One
+event was as real to them as the other, so it was natural for them, as
+soon as their hearths were once more lit, to render thanks to their
+Divinities by raising images of them on all sides, that they might never
+forget them, and by building for the houses of their Gods as beautiful
+temples as could by any possible means be made.
+
+We may frankly concede that the grandeur of this work, the generousness
+of it, can only be understood when one fully grasps the fact that a
+Greek temple was, what the Christian’s is not, the house of the Lord. In
+it but few and most private services were performed,—no processions, no
+crowds of more or less attentive worshippers, no expounding of the word,
+nothing whatever of that sort. The temple was the sacred dwelling place
+of the deity, and the curious no more thought of entering it than of
+opening uninvited their fellow-citizen’s door. It was a free gift to the
+God and not to be thought of as a source of satisfaction to the builders
+except in the same way as it pleases a lover to have his mistress accept
+some gift at his hands. This feeling is repeated frequently in Pindar
+and in other poets inspired by the ‘golden muse.’ So it was that,
+flushed with the excitement of a great cause nobly won, the Greeks
+turned the full force of their keen, glad energy to works that showed
+their own greatness by manifesting with the sharpness of full
+understanding the form of their ideals.
+
+In our day, animated by so different interests and ambitions, it is hard
+to sympathise with this natural idealistic work done in Athens, and it
+is perhaps even harder to understand why it was that Pheidias and the
+other artists were not called on to erect portrait statues of the great
+leaders of the war as were the artists of the Renaissance. There is
+mention of a statue to Miltiades, and this is all. The reason becomes
+clear immediately we consider well what were the fundamental principles
+of conduct as taught by the poets, who were in those days in large
+measure the formulators of public opinion. Pindar is as clear-spoken
+about this as need be, and he but repeats what one finds in the
+fragments that are preserved of Solon’s writings and of other earlier
+writers. He tells us that what is natural is best and that the deed done
+without the deity is best left unspoken (Olym. IX), and again (Nem. I)
+that each of us has his special power and we must earnestly endeavour
+according as Nature shows the way. This is to be the moral of our
+action, while that of our thought is that man is as nothing (Nem. VI),
+ephemeral creature naught knowing what he is or what he may be, nothing
+but a mirage-dream (Pyth. VIII).
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LIV.]
+
+Under the spell of such stern teaching as this it is no wonder that
+Pheidias was not employed, as was Michael Angelo, in depicting for an
+inquiring posterity the outer husk of the protagonist of his day. Nor
+was it merely when he was called on to decorate Athens with his
+accomplished powers that Pheidias found guiding principles of this stern
+sort, but even in his other great work, the Olympian Zeus, he was
+governed in the same way. By the Greek, victory in the games was no more
+to be aspired to without the help of the Gods than was victory in
+battle, and it was not praise for the winner but gratitude to the Gods
+that was mete when Nike laid the ‘golden crown’ upon the athlete’s brow.
+For it is the Gods who, as Pindar sings, guard the deep-breasted plain
+of Sparta and grant success in the great games. Fame is to be sought but
+it is to be the fame of honourable deeds (Pyth. VIII), but even this is
+of less value than happiness and only he who has won both has attained
+the acme of bliss (Pyth. I). Such men are almost unknown, for the soul
+of honour is tarnished by lust of gain (Nem. IX). Thus were the athletes
+in that “age of heroic prize-men” taught that physical power was of
+value, but only as it was a stepping-stone to moral purity. No portraits
+of such youths as these unless the Gods marked them as their own with
+the triple crown. The deep-delved researches of epigraphist and
+excavator show us how rare was that event.
+
+Called upon to embody for the chosen youth of Greece their idea and
+image of the guardian deity who meted out unquestioned justice to their
+strife, Pheidias had to depict as it were a masculine counterpart to the
+Goddess who made Athens her own. That he was as successful in the one
+task as in the other is instantly apparent to one who notes the quality
+of the praise bestowed upon his work by the highly trained critics of
+the classic period. None speak of his figures as they do of Myron’s, for
+instance, as deceiving the beholder by their realism. There is no
+question as to the mastery over the material as with Kalamis and
+Pythagoras,—no suggestion of conventionalism as with Polykleitos, none
+of overrefinement as with Praxiteles,—but all agree that his works were
+such nobly adequate representations of the divine beings that they added
+a new glory to the religion of which they were the perfected expression.
+
+Still another noteworthy peculiarity of this religion in its effect on
+his work remains to be mentioned. Both he and Michael Angelo had at
+different times now mere mortals, now deities, to represent. In the case
+of the Attic master this led to a greater unity of performance than was
+possible with the Florentine. Between the dwellers on Olympus and those
+on the broad-bosomed Earth there was to Pheidias’s mind only a
+difference in degree, whereas to the believer in the Roman doctrines
+there was no real similarity between the heavenly hosts and the
+inhabitants of this vale of tears; and where such was suggested, it was
+so as a symbol, not as a representation. To the Greek the Gods were
+merely his grander, nobler, more powerful brethren, blessed with the
+same virtues and troubled by similar faults, differing principally from
+the dwellers on earth by usually escaping the results due to giving way
+to passion. Even they were not blessed with absolute immunity and
+freedom of action. Zeus himself was subject to Fate, but in the main the
+Gods, at least in their outward form, were but more beautiful men and
+women. Hence when called upon to carve the most noble being whom he
+could imagine, and equally when carving ideal youths and maidens on the
+Parthenon, he could only carve the same forms he saw about him every day
+idealised by his imagination. Whichever branch of his art he followed
+trained him for the other.
+
+That such conditions and beliefs as these were very different from those
+under which Michael Angelo had to work needs no elaborate exposition.
+How different they were in their effect on the art of Pheidias and the
+happiness of the period for such an artist becomes clearer the more one
+studies. There is still another point to consider, however,—what might
+be called a more practical one than the influences of religion, and in
+this regard, too, Pheidias was the more favoured. I refer to the
+political conditions of the time, and the relations of Pheidias to his
+employers.
+
+The lack of original documents makes it impossible for us to follow the
+course led by Pheidias from its fortunate rise to its unhappy close, but
+that in most ways he was much to be envied by Michael Angelo cannot be
+questioned. Athens was at the height of her prosperity; freed from
+foreign or internal foes, she was at liberty to pursue her ends as
+occasion demanded or as consideration showed was best. It was a time of
+thanksgiving and hope. No such condition of government as this was known
+to Michael Angelo, nor did his country have the advantage of being led
+by as high-minded a statesman, and probably as wise a one, as ever
+lived. So long as Pericles was leader of the state, Pheidias was his
+friend and helper. Here was no worry for the artist, no change of
+master, no blighting of cherished hopes, all which ills were suffered by
+Michael Angelo; on the contrary, existence in the midst of a most highly
+cultivated community—a community moved by a common search after ideal
+ends, a community which must have been a constant inspiration to the
+sculptor to equal the expectations it had of him. With the rise of mob
+rule brought on by the momentary successes won by certain demagogues
+came the downfall of Pericles and in his train Pheidias. But his great
+work was finished then. He had nothing to fear when he laid aside his
+chisel, and fortunately he was not left long to mourn the fast vanishing
+nobility of his city and race. The time of calm self-confidence had
+passed and the time of trouble was threatening. Only a short time
+elapsed before the tide of disaster engulfed the whole country, and if
+we would seek a counterpart to the worn and restless spirit that
+sometimes appears in Michael Angelo’s work, we can find it in the later
+Greek masters—even Praxiteles shows traces of it. But it is not mere
+likenesses we are in search of, so much as explanations and the
+clarification of certain phenomena of art.
+
+The effect of these conditions of life and thought on Pheidias was more
+strong than on other sculptors of the time because the greater
+sensitiveness and impressibility of his nature rendered him a more
+encompassing recipient for ideas and feelings than most of his
+contemporaries. But the qualities that show in his work with especial
+sharpness are found diffused throughout all the work of the period, and
+there is one very noticeable characteristic of this work which
+distinguishes it markedly from the work produced by Michael Angelo’s
+fellow-workmen. It is the emphasis laid on youth. Donatello, Verrocchio,
+Desiderio and many others often represented youthful figures; but the
+representation of youth and early manhood could scarcely be said to
+distinguish the work of the Florentine from other epochs, yet this is
+exactly what can be said of the product of the early Greek and
+particularly the Attic School.
+
+Look at the statues of youths and maidens, the never-fading ghosts of
+past days, which the Attic chisel carved and the Attic soil has
+preserved for us. Look at the young Apollos and their not less glorious
+brethren, the athletes. Look at the guardians above the temple
+porches—incarnations of youthful vigour even when the bearded head or
+matronly form give sign of elder years. Look at the vases “with brede of
+marble men and maidens overwrought.” Finally look well at the statues of
+God and Goddess—even these have youth eternal moulded in their full,
+strong figures.
+
+And it is pleasant to reflect that it is not the sculptor’s art alone
+which found satisfaction in thus dwelling on the most beautiful forms of
+human life, but the painters and the poets too immortalise the
+entrancing splendours of the youthful form. Greek art of this time
+presents us with the indubitable evidence of a belief, rooted deep as
+life itself, that the everlasting joy of completest beauty was to be
+found in the well-conditioned body of youth or maiden. What a
+degradation the ascetic interpretation of the Holy Writ brought in the
+art of the Renaissance! Many youthful figures do we find there, but they
+were chosen as much for the sake of the quaintness of extremely youthful
+forms as for the beauty inherent in vigorous development. The place of
+the fine-drawn, well-groomed figures of the Greek youths and maidens is
+taken by jolly, pot-bellied babies. Over the altars and among the graves
+they scramble, and up the marble columns, to launch themselves, heedless
+as screaming swallows, over the groined ceiling. From North to South and
+across Italy from Sea to Sea this breed of fascinating babies
+spread—their father the Church, their mother the great human heart of
+the Italian race. And then, dulling the pleasant impression that such
+figures make upon the mind, we are met on all sides by haggard figures
+of men and women expressive only of a bitter ardour to seek salvation by
+pain.
+
+The wanness of Botticelli, the pain and trouble of Michael Angelo, the
+mere ordinarily healthy look of Ghirlandaio, these are what take the
+place of the deep-breasted, broad-shouldered, strong-pulsed, magnificent
+Greeks—some repetition among these latter, ’tis true, but marvellous in
+their vigour and constancy and impulsiveness. Or what poets can the
+Medicean time show who sing of ideals and principles in the same
+full-throated, calm, incisive way as Pindar or Sophocles sang them? We
+have instead a scornful wrath or playful fancy. The deity is no longer
+friendly but terrible, and dainty mistresses usurp the place of the
+God-compelling Aphrodite. The momentary, not the eternal, is the
+interest of the day.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LV.]
+
+Some there were, Greek in spirit and in deed: Dante in part of his later
+work, so far as a Catholic could be. The Vita Nuova in its heart-broken
+passion, the Convito in its complexity, are purely Italian, but passages
+of the Divine Comedy and the Letters might be the work of one of the
+Attic dramatists, so intense are they, so cool, so assertive of the
+power of right over wrong. But an artist much more Greek than Dante and
+one who is often, but very mistakenly, thought to resemble Michael
+Angelo, was Tintoretto. His was a Greek sense of form, his was a Greek
+sense of beauty, and his was a completely and absolutely Greek sense of
+what constituted true portraiture. There were others too of this group,
+but they are rare and far between; men who seem to have been born two
+thousand years too late, or else just in time to save the world from a
+worship of what was mentally warped and physically unsound.
+
+When one considers that the art of sculpture has found its chief
+employment in the service of religion, it becomes plain why living among
+a people whose religion led to asceticism, even though the age was
+largely sceptical, Michael Angelo should impress his work with a feeling
+quite opposed to that found in the works of Pheidias. Scepticism there
+was in ancient Greece too, but not strong enough to free Pheidias
+entirely from the bonds of the religion to which he was from infancy
+accustomed. Furthermore, a scepticism that found much fuel for its
+flames in the misconduct of the Vicar of Christ and his less powerful
+imitators would have a very dissimilar effect on the mind from that
+which was based on true mental development. The one was the natural
+sloughing of the skin, the other the amputation of a diseased member.
+
+The conditions at Rome had more effect on the formation of character in
+those days than anything else, and they cannot have seemed much less
+rotten to Michael Angelo than to Hildebrand five hundred years earlier.
+The feeling that Christ was essentially the man of sorrows, which
+affected the early artists, had passed from men’s minds, and in regard
+to his comeliness there was nothing to prevent an artist working in a
+Greek spirit; but employed though Michael Angelo was by the Popes, they
+used him by no means always on religious work.
+
+And Michael Angelo also suffered, as Pheidias did not, from having many
+masters. These were causes to destroy any Pheidian-like unity in Michael
+Angelo’s work, but causes much more potent to work him injury were the
+characters of the men for whom he worked, prince as well as Pope. It
+was, doubtless, in many respects fortunate for a young artist to have
+the freedom of the court of Lorenzo de’ Medici, but while Lorenzo might
+help such a man as Michael Angelo at the beginning of his career, he was
+hardly the man to inspire his more mature years. At any rate he died
+while Michael Angelo was still young, and thenceforth the latter worked
+for men with whom he can have had but little sympathy. Men of great
+energy they were, but with the exception of Alexander VI, in the main
+corrupt or stupid. To work for such men under any circumstances must
+have been trying, but when one thinks of their refusal to allow Michael
+Angelo to work as he saw fit, one does not wonder that at times he was
+nervously irritable.
+
+Obviously such a life would have been trying to a man of more ordinary
+clay than Michael Angelo, but to him, endowed, as he was, with enormous
+powers of mental application and sensitive as only poets are, it must at
+times have been little less than torture. He knew that the golden age of
+his country had passed. He saw Florence humbled and Rome sacked. The
+statesmen were men of mean ambition and the clergy men of lax morals.
+Nothing could stop the degeneration. Political reformers and saintly
+enthusiasts had matched themselves against the ever-increasing
+debasement of Italy, and one after another they had all been overcome.
+From the days of the doubtful reforms of Crescentius or Cola da Rienzi
+through the period of the passionate recalling of Christ by Francis of
+Assisi to the time of bitter invective of Savonarola, reformers had
+given their lives in the attempt to save their beloved Italy from the
+error of her ways, and all had failed. It was not a time for hope but
+for sorrow, and it needed a firm belief in the Divine Word to save one
+from despair—or at least discontent.
+
+It is from his sonnets and letters rather than from his sculpture that
+we can obtain a view of Michael Angelo’s thoughts and feelings. Not that
+the latter does not show certain moods of the artist very clearly, but,
+as in the Pietà, it is more ideal than personal, more the expression of
+dreams than of his actual experience. In the sonnets, on the other hand,
+he gives vent to his own innermost feelings. In them we find frequent
+expression of deep despair, but bitterly as he grieved for the death of
+Savonarola, there is no evidence that he thereat lost faith in humanity.
+It may well have been his admiration of Vittoria Colonna that saved him
+from misanthropy. As his intercourse with her was undoubtedly the purest
+joy and her death the keenest sorrow of his later years, so there may
+have been some similarly sweetening influence during the summer of his
+life. The knowledge of his career that we possess is great, but it does
+not tell us this. It is for our purposes, perhaps for all, better that
+this should be so. At least it makes it easier to compare him with
+Pheidias, of whose life we have no such details whatever.
+
+Such were some of the general conditions affecting the point of view of
+these two men. The effect they had on particular work becomes evident
+with the study of the separate monuments. One point is, to begin with,
+very noticeable. It is that of the eight works by Pheidias mentioned
+distinctly by ancient writers seven are representations of deities, and
+the eighth of an ideal being. There can be no question that he made
+other works, but that these alone were preserved by tradition certainly
+affords safe grounds for the deduction that his genius was most
+congenially employed and most fully displayed in such work. In the case
+of Michael Angelo, while we know of work like the statue of Julius or
+the Battle Cartoon (not to mention his youthful efforts) that have
+nothing to do with religion, yet his mind also turned to religious
+subjects and his greatest works are entirely of this character.
+
+Curiously enough it is when employed on subjects drawn from the ancient
+world that Michael Angelo is most unlike the great Greek. His Pietà, the
+Madonna of Bruges (Plate LIII) and Victor (Plate LIV) are more Pheidian
+than his Bacchus (National Museum, Florence; Plate LV) or his Eros
+(South Kensington Museum; Plate LVI). These are Greek of a kind, but
+they are Alexandrian rather than Pheidian. They are as foreign to any
+conceptions of the fifth century as they are to those of the Catholic
+Church. The drunken, tottering Bacchus is as different from the early
+conception of the God, who was thought of almost more as the sunshine
+that makes the grape than as the juice itself, as the shrinking and
+self-conscious Venus of the Capitol is from the Venus of Cnidos. In his
+sensuality the Bacchus is un-Pheidian and in the humour introduced in
+the group by the presence of his companion he is equally so. Humour was
+not lacking to the Athenian, as the drama shows, but the fields of
+sculpture and painting were not considered the proper place for its
+display.
+
+In still another point is the statue of Bacchus comparable not to the
+early but to the late Greek work, and that is in the realism of the
+modelling and the action of the figure. Such modelling bears no relation
+to the broad treatment of Pheidias. The latter shows no such
+_morbidezza_, nor would he have dwelt on the repulsive unsteadiness of
+the pose. Whoever it was that carved the famous Borghese Anacreon, and
+it was some contemporary of Pheidias, shows us how the earlier Greek
+artist felt towards drunkenness. The figure is under the influence of
+his much-sung God Dionysos, but he is shown in attitude of mental
+ecstasy not of physical uncontrol. What stamps the Bacchus and the Eros
+(and much of his other work) as non-Greek is a lack not exactly of
+beauty, but of delicacy and refinement, of charm. But each of these
+characteristics that differentiates Michael Angelo’s work from that of
+the Greek stamps it as a work of the Renaissance. The pleasure in
+technical excellence, the realism and the representation of
+unpleasantness are all qualities that recur over and over again in the
+work of this vigorous, capable, unflinching, unbelieving period.
+
+Similar un-Pheidian qualities show in the figure of Eros in London,
+which if not by Michael Angelo, is at least made entirely in his spirit.
+The same realism of modelling is seen in the treatment of the head and
+face, the same choice of an action inexpressive of the deepest meaning
+of the figure. It is still less Pheidian in the vividness and intentness
+of the action and expression which are not explained by the figure
+itself, but the meaning of which is left to the imagination of the
+beholder to discover. Dramatic quality of this sort is rarely found in
+Pheidian work. The statues carved in that time were self-explanatory.
+Single figures were often represented as intent or as full of movement
+as the Eros, but their action is not motived by something outside
+themselves. Hence they do not puzzle the beholder. The Anacreon, the
+Discobolus need no explanation, but Michael Angelo’s Eros needs to be
+grouped (at least in imagination) with some other figure before it can
+be understood. It is like Myron’s Marsyas, splendid and suggestive but
+incomplete.[32] Separate figures of the Parthenon pediments are as
+dramatic as the Eros, but then they form part of a group and as such
+their meaning was perfectly clear.
+
+An instance is found in one of the group of Gods on the eastern end of
+the frieze of the Parthenon (Plate LVII). The figure is commonly called
+Ares. He is seated forward on his throne, and holds one raised knee
+between his clasped hands. Such an attitude, so lacking in grandeur, so
+suggestive of restlessness, is well suited to the fiery God of Battles
+and shows how free and ungoverned by conventions Pheidias could be. The
+group as a whole is a perfect expression of the power of the master, to
+be simple as a child in this treatment of the Olympians and yet never to
+fail to produce work of supreme beauty.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LVI.]
+
+This simplicity one notices in all Pheidian work, separating it sharply
+from the later work in Greece and from most of the work in Italy,
+particularly from that of Michael Angelo. Pheidias is not in the least
+affected, but at the same time he is not actualistic. Of the hundreds of
+figures in the full round and in relief that decorated the Parthenon
+there is not one, nor even a group, that does not seem absolutely and
+utterly simple and real. And yet there is not one of them which close
+study does not reveal to be a marvellous composite of actions and forms
+and draperies and expressions which all bear the stamp of idealisation
+(Plate LVIII). The effect of perfection that the work conveys is due
+perhaps to Pheidias not having tried to idealise in any vague or
+artificial way, but to his combining an absolute dependence on Nature
+for his models with a capacity of seeing, and solely representing, their
+essential beauties. So while his figures are ideal in the sense that
+they are more perfect than average mortals, yet they do not seem
+unapproachable and unaccountable.
+
+Now this, we may freely grant, cannot be said of Michael Angelo’s work.
+His figures are simple, yet it is not the simplicity of Nature but of
+Art. A passing glance may find them equal to the Pheidian works, but a
+more careful study shows that though true to Nature and possible in
+action, they are, in respect to both body and attitude, improbable. They
+are composed, and hence in a way untrue. The Pheidian beings seem those
+of the Golden Age—perfect and unconcerned; while the others oftentimes
+seem interested in their own perfection and desirous that it should be
+admired. One knows enough of Michael Angelo to know that though
+self-conscious, such thoughts were far from his mind and if, as I think,
+they are to be seen in his work, it only shows that the time was
+stronger than the man, for he lived in a period when affectation was not
+uncommon. The grandeur of the Greek figures, as manifest in figurines as
+in colossal works, is due to the beauty dependent on a mental poise;
+that of the Florentine figures is due to their size and suggestion of
+physical strength and to their facial and bodily expression that imply
+the capacity of untold depths of passion—quite as physical a
+consideration as that of size.
+
+Of course it may be said that the Eros is merely a study of the human
+frame in a rather complicated position, but even so, my contention that
+the figure is un-Pheidian still remains true.
+
+The strength of the action exhibited by this figure of Eros, the
+tremendous play of muscle while at the same time the figure is thought
+of not as in motion but as at rest, is what one finds in very many
+figures painted and carved by Michael Angelo and forms one of the most
+distinctive characteristics of his work. It shows in the Slaves, in the
+Medici figures, in some of the sacred groups, in lesser measure but yet
+distinctly in the David and Moses, and as clearly as possible in the
+paintings of the Sistine Chapel. It is due to this in large degree that
+these works are so well known, for they strike the eye of the casual and
+impatient sightseer and they are remembered with much greater vividness
+than work of a quieter and less excited character. In the hands of a
+genius like Michael Angelo such treatment of the human figure, and the
+choice of such positions, seem natural and give no sense of exaggeration
+or restlessness.
+
+It is commonly held that genius is limited by no law, and in so far as
+is meant thereby to imply that no bounds can be set to the concepts of
+great minds, this is true; in the attempt to express such concepts to
+others, however, the genius equally with less endowed mortals must be
+limited by the laws that govern the material in which he seeks to find
+expression. The penetration of a Sophocles or a Shakespeare into the
+mysteries of life can have no measure set to it, but when they tell us
+their thoughts, their words are bound by the laws of verse. No final
+explanation can be given for the teeming imagination of Michael Angelo,
+but some of his works may be criticised for not conforming to the laws
+of space or material that govern the arts of painting and sculpture. He
+sometimes shows a lack of _taste_.
+
+Genius shows in every touch of Michael Angelo’s hand, whether with brush
+or chisel, but at times his work is unsatisfactory owing to its
+exaggeration. No admiration is too great for specific qualities in
+everything he did, but it is clear that the conception of beauty was not
+held by him as essential. To Pheidias, on the other hand, it was of
+primal importance.
+
+A comparison of the Parthenon pediments with the ceiling of the Sistine
+Chapel may make clear my meaning. This is not the place for fine
+analysis of either composition. Suffice it to say that in each case the
+space has been filled by the decoration with a perfection and adequacy
+that has never been again approached, but I think it will be generally
+admitted that the chief impression of the pediments, shattered though
+they are, is of beauty, while that of the ceiling is of power. Michael
+Angelo tried at times to express in paint and stone what cannot be
+clearly expressed in those substances. This was what I have referred to
+as lack of taste. His Last Judgment is a striking case in point. He
+attempted in that work to do what Milton or Dante succeeded in doing
+better with more suitable means. Even the Chief Actor in the scene
+lacked the quality of grandeur which Michael Angelo seems usually to
+have found no difficulty in suggesting. It is perhaps because he felt
+the inadequacy of stone or paint for the full expression of his ideas
+that he left so many works uncompleted.
+
+Michael Angelo’s figures of Night and Dawn and certain figures in the
+Sistine Chapel may be criticised for the exaggeration of their pose,
+though how extraordinarily successful they are can be seen by comparing
+them with similar figures by Vasari or other imitators of the master,
+which invariably appear to be insecure and in danger of falling. The
+difference in the kind of imitators who followed Pheidias, and those who
+succeeded Michael Angelo, shows well one difference in their genius and
+the effect on art in general that the two men had.
+
+Both men had numerous pupils and followers, but in the earlier time such
+men served to keep Greek sculpture at its highest level, in the later
+they brought on a rapid degradation of the art in Italy. The reason for
+this different result is plain. Just as most people now see nothing in
+Michael Angelo’s work but strongly modelled figures and vigorous poses,
+not knowing enough of his life to comprehend what were the thoughts he
+desired to express, so the artists in his own day thought the
+magnificence of his work lay in its exterior form. Imitating this they
+succeeded in producing only figures with unnaturally protuberant muscles
+placed in uncomfortably contorted positions. Vasari and Bandinelli are
+two instances in point. The painted figures of the former are as foolish
+in their assertion of would-be grandeur as is possible to conceive, and
+there are few things uglier or coarser than the group of Hercules and
+Cacus by the latter.
+
+In Michael Angelo this insistence on the muscular development of figures
+is an accident perhaps due to his delight (a pure Greek delight) in mere
+physical strength, such as he himself possessed, but it is not the most
+telling characteristic of his work. The truly essential part of his work
+is the thought which his figures embody. His followers, being men of
+little originality, as is shown by their trying to assume his
+peculiarities, naturally succeeded not in making work like his, but work
+which in reality serves to show their dissimilarity to their master. It
+was unfortunate, also, that the very qualities which attracted them were
+of a nature that if misunderstood lead to a more rapid debasement of art
+and life than almost any other, for a love of mere physical strength is
+a love of what allies one to the beasts of the field. Their work unites
+them not so much to Michael Angelo as to the maker of what (with the
+exception of the Laocoon) is probably the ugliest and most brutal work
+preserved to us from antiquity—the Farnese Hercules.
+
+All this was very different in the case of Pheidias and his school. In
+his work there was nothing superficial to catch the eye, no peculiarity
+except the perfection and beauty that one feels instantly and yet
+cannot, without much care, explain on what it depends. What was there
+then for other artists to do if they felt his was perfect sculpture and
+they desired to work towards it? His figures were calm and stately. His
+greatness lay in his conception of the being he was called upon to
+represent—in his point of view, that is. This showed itself not in a
+technical skill superior to that of his fellow-workers, for the artists
+then as in the Renaissance were in the main equally skilful, but in a
+mass of infinitesimal details which not so much by themselves separately
+as by their combination gave his work its everlasting charm. It would
+not have taken a quick-witted Greek long to realise that to produce
+Pheidian works he must look at life in a Pheidian way, and the more
+successful his imitations the more calm, restrained and careful would
+they be. This Pheidian point of view was such that his followers were
+turned toward spiritual repose as the source of inspiration for their
+works rather than toward restless activity.
+
+The complexity of the attitudes of Michael Angelo’s figures is scarcely
+more noticeable than the multiplicity of the subjects he was called upon
+to produce. Life was more complicated in his day than in that of
+Pheidias, and there were more varied demands made upon the artist than
+in the ancient times. While Pheidias, so far as we know, had to make
+works solely for the state or for some public purpose, Michael Angelo
+was forced to gratify the whim of various powerful employers. Oftentimes
+such work, as for instance the Sistine Chapel, was of public character,
+but more often it was not, so that in place of striving to embody the
+ideals of the state whose greatest artist he was, he had to bend and
+mould his genius to satisfy the personal ambitions of his masters. The
+story of the Julian tomb illustrates this sad and thwarted part of his
+career. Not only was he prevented from carrying out work already
+undertaken in the way which he considered best, but also he was forced
+to do that for which he felt himself unprepared by previous training and
+unfitted by lack of interest in the subject.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LVII.]
+
+That this was his mood at the time when, notwithstanding his arguments,
+Pope Julius II compelled him, in 1508, to begin the work in the Sistine
+Chapel, is known. If, when working against his will, he produced the
+most wonderful bit of decorative and architectural painting the world
+knows, one can but wonder what limit his talent would have reached had
+he ever carried to completion any of his great sculptural undertakings.
+Just as his capacity for mingling in his figures deep thought and
+powerful action shows not a greater but rather a more varied genius than
+that of Pheidias, so his capacities as painter, as architect, as
+engineer show that circumstances led him to much greater variety of
+activity than probably any ancient artist ever experienced. Not that
+this varied activity must needs imply the possession of greater powers.
+It implies merely the capacity of using an intellect highly trained in
+one way for the accomplishment of purposes of more than one kind. That
+is, it implies the possession by the artist of adaptability and of
+common sense in its finest form, and the possession of these qualities
+was not a rare characteristic in the Renaissance. Men of all kinds
+showed it, but it is most marked when it appears as part of the mental
+outfit of painters and of sculptors, men who too often adopt a pose of
+what they consider simplicity and lack of knowledge of the world, as
+though ignorance were the stepping-stone to great art. This was not the
+condition of things in the Renaissance, nor, so far as the little
+evidence we have allows us to judge, in Greece. It created no surprise
+when Van Eyck and Rubens were considered as proper persons to be
+entrusted with affairs of state, nor when the military protection of his
+city was put into the hands of Michael Angelo, nor when Leonardo laid
+out the irrigation system of Lombardy. Life is more complicated now and
+in many lines work has to be more specialised—but this is no reason why
+artists should be stupid.
+
+The fact that the talents required for painting and sculpture are not
+incompatible is clearly shown by Michael Angelo’s works. The most common
+criticism passed on them, and one that is in part true, is that his
+sculptures are at times too pictorial while at others his paintings are
+too sculptural. Certain it is that parts of the ceiling in the Sistine
+Chapel look, at first sight, more like sculptured figures than like
+painted decorations. Michael Angelo was unquestionably aware of this,
+and the effect was intentionally sought by him. To state as a rule of
+art that work on the flat should always look flat is a mistake. There is
+no law of optics or of architecture which demands this.
+
+The application of the laws of art must depend on the individual
+practitioner.[33] In treating the figures in the Sistine Chapel in a
+sculpturesque way Michael Angelo produced a work more like the Parthenon
+in the perfection with which the decoration is adapted to its position
+than is elsewhere to be seen. He has used painting, that is to say, in
+much of his design to suggest sculpture, which is the richer and more
+suitable adjunct to most parts of architecture,[34] and thereby produced
+a complex architectural work instead of producing merely a painting
+which, like many of those in Venice, might equally well be placed
+anywhere else.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LVIII.]
+
+A comparison will make the point plain. Take most modern decoration of a
+similar sort and how infinitely feeble and accidental it seems! Look at
+the decorations of the Pantheon in Paris, of the Boston Public Library,
+and the difference may be seen. Great painting one may see there, but
+not great decoration of architectural works; and ceiling or wall
+paintings are nothing else. Any one of these paintings taken from its
+present position would look equally well on any other wall large enough
+to hold it, or in any gallery, and would also have equal meaning there.
+Not so Michael Angelo’s work. As a whole it could be put nowhere except
+where it is, and if cut in pieces each bit would cry out in its solitude
+and demand the juxtaposition of the other parts. The work is as perfect
+a finishing of the Chapel as though it were some natural growth. This is
+equally true of the sculptures of the Parthenon. How inconsequent and
+unmeaning they look when taken from their natural place is shown in the
+British Museum by the Athenæum Club and Hyde Park Gate in London.
+
+Michael Angelo’s other paintings also have a sculpturesque look. This is
+partly due to the fact that the foreground, where atmosphere has little
+effect, is more studied than the background. To him as to Pheidias the
+human figure was of the deepest interest, but its natural surroundings
+of little or none, so the figures are drawn with a distinctness and
+illumined with an intensity of light which make them look more solid and
+material than many a painter’s work. It does not mean that Michael
+Angelo failed to understand the function of painting as a Fine Art. The
+true function of art is the presentation of the ideal and this is done
+by the translation of emotion. This translation of emotion, when
+accomplished with the motive of giving pleasure by pleasing the senses
+or elevating the mind, produces the noblest art, for this search for
+pleasure is in healthy minds but the search for beauty, and beauty is
+the suggestion of the ideal. This being the general function of Art each
+one of the Fine Arts follows in ways individual to itself the search
+after beauty in the translation of emotion. Music is the most subtle and
+architecture is the most general of the arts, and poetry the most
+commonly understood, while painting and sculpture, the terms of which
+are hardest to define, are the most closely related. As an art
+architecture is an expression of man as a social animal. Painting and
+sculpture are its proper adjuncts. Painting ought to be merely the
+representation by colour of three dimensional spaces in two dimensions,
+while sculpture should attempt nothing but the rendering of forms in
+full or partial relief. Each art _per se_ has special powers, but when
+used as a detail of work of another kind, its peculiarities must then be
+suppressed till it is in accord with the work of which it is a portion
+or detail.
+
+Now this is exactly what Michael Angelo accomplished. It is natural for
+painting, since it cannot represent figures in the round, to lay most
+emphasis on the face, but when it is used to ornament the separate parts
+of an architectural work, it must generalise its own peculiarities and
+use them to enrich the architectural scheme. For in so far as painting
+thus used impresses the beholder with its excellence as painting, by
+just so far has the architecture become a frame for the painting and the
+painting failed to be a glory added to the architecture. Michael Angelo
+was a great enough genius to be able to use painting perfectly as an
+additional splendour to his architecture.
+
+You do not think of the figures or pictures on the Sistine ceiling as
+separate works—in large measure the composition is such that you
+cannot—so much as the finishing ornament of the Chapel. This is because
+the artist did not put the greatest amount of expression into the faces,
+it permeates equally the whole body. Thus these grand creatures look
+like sculpture, which is in fact, as more similar in its permanence to
+architecture, the noblest means of decorating a building. Ceilings
+cannot, it is true, be covered with carved figures, and great care
+should be chosen in the scenes depicted on them, for they do not offer a
+suitable position in which to hang pictures that are primarily conceived
+as pictures. This was a common mistake of the Venetians, who covered the
+ceilings of the Ducal Palace, Santa Maria del’ Orto and countless other
+buildings with elaborate paintings of subjects that have no
+architectural significance and cannot be thought of as scenes taking
+place in the heavens. They are in fact large easel pictures and as such
+would be better seen if hung upright on the wall than in their present
+position.
+
+In the Sistine Chapel Michael Angelo showed his complete understanding
+of painting as an ornament and finish to architecture, and in his easel
+paintings he manifests, if not as complex effects as some painters, at
+least as full a knowledge of what constitutes painting, from its roots
+of drawing and composition to the full blossom of colour and expression.
+Perhaps the most marked peculiarity of his paintings is the lack of
+complex backgrounds of any sort, whether of landscape, or drapery, or
+architecture. This again allies him to the Greeks, not to those of any
+one age in especial, but to all, for the most marked difference (leaving
+the less important matters of medium and technique aside) between their
+paintings and those of modern times is, that they did not consider
+backgrounds as a part to be treated with much elaboration or care.
+
+The Greek painter, we know, presented his scene with only enough
+suggestion of the surroundings in which the figures stood for the
+beholder to understand the general character of the spot where the
+action was taking place. He lavished his care on the figures, and did
+nothing to distract the full attention of the beholder from them.
+Michael Angelo did the same. In so far as he rivets your whole attention
+to the figures on the canvas, his painting is sculpturesque, but this
+word cannot be applied to his work in the sense that he was ignorant of
+the principles of painting as an art of expression. That in his painting
+as in his sculpture he tended to overstep what are generally considered
+the proper limits of the art is true, but this was due rather to great
+knowledge than to any imperfect understanding. At such times he was
+striking out into the unknown realms of discovery and searching for new
+possibilities for the arts of which he was the most accomplished master
+of the time.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LIX.]
+
+I have tried to show how the general beliefs and ideals of the people
+among whom they lived would have tended to differentiate these two
+artists one from the other in certain ways and to ally them in certain
+others. But different or similar, can it be said of either: this one is
+the greater? I think not, even though one recognises that Michael Angelo
+certainly gave more varied expression to his genius. Neither of them
+shows a more complete understanding of the arts, or embodies a fuller
+realisation of the ideal in his figures, than the other.
+
+Take for example Pheidias’s statues of Athena and Michael Angelo’s of
+the Madonna. No artist could express all each of these beings suggests
+in one figure, but it would be a hard task to find anything that they
+did not show in one or the other of their several presentations. We know
+with considerable accuracy what was the grandeur of the Athena
+Parthenos, the guardian of her chosen people, and we also know the
+divine rage felt by Athena the warrior Goddess driving Poseidon from the
+sacred citadel; and finally we know by literary and probably by ocular
+evidence with what consummate grace Pheidias represented Athena the
+ideal of Attic maidenhood. There are many other statues of the Goddess
+by other artists and from other periods but none I believe that add to
+the realisation these three give us of what Athena was to the Athenians.
+
+In the same way Michael Angelo shows us the feeling of his time towards
+the Virgin. In the figure at Bruges we see the youthful figure—the
+Virgin of the Visitation. In the partially finished group in Florence
+there is more trouble in the face, the feeling expressed in the words
+“behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing” and “they
+understood not the saying that he spake unto them” (Plate LIX). In the
+Pietà in St. Peter’s her heart is numb with grief—the flood of sorrow
+that has whelmed her is
+
+           “Such a tide as moving seems asleep,
+             Too full for sound or foam,
+           When that which draws from out the boundless deep
+             Turns again home.”
+
+Her figure as shown us by other lesser men seems trivial or incomplete
+when these are remembered.
+
+If one considers the larger undertakings of the two men, the Parthenon
+and the Sistine Chapel, one cannot say that either surpasses the other,
+though one can say with absolute security that neither has ever been
+approached. In these works they show themselves the masters of all
+craftsmen. Note the way in which the composition of the Parthenon groups
+suits the long, low triangular space in which they are placed, each
+group, taken as a whole, being made up of numerous lesser groups which
+are quite perfect by themselves and so interwoven by means of upraised
+arms or turned bodies or bits of floating drapery, that it is only after
+careful observation that one sees how the artist made various parts
+unite into one perfect whole. It is the acme of architectural sculpture.
+It seems simple, but one searches in vain among the pediment groups that
+have been made since for one that can approach it even distantly in
+merit. It is this same intertwining of simple, unforced separate parts
+into one grand, living completeness that marks out the ceiling of the
+Sistine Chapel as a thing apart and unequalled.
+
+To compare the more private, perhaps more personal works, of the two men
+is impossible, for the reason that nothing of this sort made by Pheidias
+has been preserved for us. There are a few such by Michael Angelo, some
+from his earliest years, as the Battle of the Centaurs, others like the
+David or perhaps the Eros. From these we get a suggestion regarding the
+ideas which Michael Angelo thought were to be expressed by sculpture.
+The bas-relief showing the Battle of the Centaurs can, however, scarcely
+be taken into consideration, for it is a work of his mere boyhood and
+shows little except unusual power for a youth and an interest, which
+apparently did not last, in subjects drawn from ancient art. The man’s
+unconventional and powerful nature is shown by the fact that in his
+mature years he did not ever, as most contemporary painters and
+sculptors did, try to copy the antique in any way. His own mind was too
+active for him to adopt either the subjects or modes of other men’s
+work. So, too, in the case of Pheidias, his work does not suggest that
+of any predecessor, but in later periods of Greek sculpture the figures
+which hark back in some way to Pheidian originals are innumerable.
+
+In the David, in the figures in the Medici Chapel and those for the
+Julian tomb one sees the same strained look: physical calm and great
+strength combined with a marked expression of mental restlessness and
+trouble, undoubtedly significant of Michael Angelo’s own feeling of
+weariness and of the ‘powerful trouble’ that beset the world. Pheidias
+came just at the acme of a great period. Michael Angelo, on the other
+hand, felt that the light in the sky was that of the waning day, not of
+the sunrise. His figures are sad; those by Pheidias are quiet and
+peaceful. Society and the artist were in harmony in the case of the
+Greek; they were not in accord in the case of the Florentine.
+
+Every point we study brings us to the same conclusion, that while each
+of these men was the supreme master of his time and of incomparable
+capacity, Pheidias had less to struggle against than Michael Angelo; and
+through being able to carry out his ideas unhampered, he had a better
+effect on his followers than Michael Angelo, whose works are in the main
+monuments of thwarted purpose. Each sought unceasingly to embody in his
+work ideals of beauty beyond the influence of contemporary events. In
+the one case this was possible, in the other not. To the Greek,
+contemporaneity was nothing, to the Italian, it was all. Where Pheidias
+was called on to decorate the chief public building of Athens with
+scenes of war which were known only by popular tradition and which were
+instinct with poetry, Michael Angelo had to depict a battle that was a
+mere incident of border warfare. Each of these men, however, enriched
+the world with works that are unsurpassed, and similar work will never
+again be accomplished.
+
+With the passing of the Greek world passed the ideals that inspired
+Pheidias. Others came and faded away again with Michael Angelo. Their
+works are immortal in the sense that in their kind they cannot be
+superseded. But the arts themselves are not immortal, for this would
+mean that they could not advance and develop. It is in this power of
+growth and change and adaptation that art is allied to science, and we
+turn to the most recent exponent of either with the incommensurable hope
+that he may have found the master key to beautiful new worlds.
+
+
+
+
+                   III. A HEAD OF ATHENA FROM CYRENE
+
+
+In the first, and, as it was destined to be, the last report on the
+excavations by the Archæological Institute of America at Cyrene,[35] I
+published a marble head of Athena which we found a few inches below the
+surface on the top of the Acropolis.
+
+The spot where it was found afforded no clew to its origin. It came to
+light in a small room constructed probably in the later Ptolemaic times,
+and had obviously fallen and been lost to sight, by one of those
+inexplicable accidents familiar to all excavators, on the spot where our
+picks discovered it. No temple stood near; no trace of pedestal could be
+found and no other fragment of marble came from the torn covering of
+protecting earth to help answer the eager questioning the quiet face
+aroused. Except for a flake off the hair, the tip of the helmet
+projecting over the brow, the edge of one ear and the point of the nose,
+the marble was as fresh as the day the figure was first unveiled to the
+worshipping multitude. (Plates LX, LXI.)
+
+The perfect head alone is left us to solve the riddles the archæologist
+and artist may ask. Doubtless when in the oncoming years the Italians
+have the satisfaction of finishing the work which we inaugurated and
+made possible, further discoveries will dispel whatever doubts now
+harass our minds, and students, forgetful of the time and circumstances
+under which we wrought, will wonder why we hesitated, why we did not
+see, why the closed lips did not speak to us with as clear a note as to
+them. Doubtless, but still it seems likely that many years must elapse
+before others will be able to finish our work, and in the meantime it is
+well to bring this lovely bit of sculptor’s art more adequately to the
+attention of students than seemed wise before the hope of continuing the
+excavation was blighted by the careless hand of war.
+
+Before studying the special characteristics of this head of Athena and
+showing how, notwithstanding the very numerous representations of the
+warrior Goddess which we possess, it is entirely individual and unlike
+any other, we may do well to recall certain facts regarding Cyrene as a
+centre of Greek life and thought, facts that are not open to question,
+being proved by historical and other positive evidence. The accounts
+given by the ancient historians and poets of the foundation and rapid
+rise to wealth of Cyrene were sufficient to make us certain that the
+archæologist’s spade would find in plenty those beautiful monuments of a
+long-since vanished spirit which make the work of the excavator on Greek
+soil so entrancing and satisfying.
+
+Even at inaccessible Cyrene, however, we were not the first. In the
+early sixties of the last century, Smith and Porcher, two fine examples
+of men of English breadth of view combined with well-trained and
+persistent capacity, had brought to light a considerable number of bits
+of sculpture which showed clearly that Cyrene, like every other Greek
+city, had once been a kindly nurse to artists. True though it be that
+these broken fragments now sheltered in the British Museum were, with
+the exception of a magnificent bronze head, of second-rate quality,
+still they dispelled all doubt regarding one very important point; that
+is, they showed that at Cyrene itself there were large numbers of
+sculptors whose technical skill was of a high order. That there were
+numerous sculptors was proved by the fact that the works found by Smith
+and Porcher embraced a long stretch of years.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LX.]
+
+At first sight this fact may appear little noteworthy, and its bearing
+on our Athena head may not be perceived. It takes on a fresh aspect,
+however, when we realise that there is no marble to be found within
+hundreds of miles of Cyrene, and, in consequence, the stone must have
+been imported to the city. It might be suggested that not the marble but
+the finished carvings were imported, as we know from literary evidence
+was sometimes done in other parts of the Greek world. Had the English
+and ourselves found only one or two examples of supreme merit, this
+theory might be tenable. No one, however, will attempt to uphold it in
+the face of the numerous busts, statues, bas-reliefs, grave monuments
+and inscriptions, many of which are of very little importance, which
+were dug up by the Englishmen and ourselves. Portrait busts alone show
+that Cyrene had her own sculptors who, even though they lacked the
+advantage their _confrères_ of many Greek cities had in near-by
+quarries, managed to overcome the difficulties Nature put in their way
+and struggled to a mastery of their chosen art. The bearing of this on
+the Athena will become manifest as we go further into the study of the
+subject.
+
+If only another Pausanias, one might suggest, had gone sightseeing and
+note-taking along the surprising shores of Libya, our work of
+interpretation had been far simpler. But though we are not helped by
+such written evidence, we can still discover the essential qualities and
+meanings of these sculptures, and the diggers who in years to come drive
+our trenches deeper into the ground will find nothing more unexpected
+than the Athena, for she is the drifted seaweed that proves the still
+invisible land. In fact, I for one am glad we have no Pausanias to dull
+the edge of our wits with his bald and often erroneous statements. He
+has helped much in making it possible to draw up chronological tables
+and schedules of all sorts regarding the development of Greek sculpture,
+yet had he never written, the true understanding of the art, the
+comprehension of the forces that moulded it from the days of its early
+promising effort through its bloom of unchallenged perfection on to its
+phosphorescent decay, would have been not less full and possibly even
+more intelligent than it is to-day. Pausanias and others of his kind
+have handed down many names which mean, in truth, no more to us than the
+titles “master this” or “master that” of the mediæval German school of
+painting. Such facts and data are of infinitely little importance. Even
+without them the razor-sharp critical powers of a Heinrich Brunn or an
+Adolf Furtwaengler (before he gave up his energy to acrimonious and
+petty dispute) were not to be denied and without any fictitious aid of
+names would have interpreted Greek art to us. That there are always
+blind souls who, when they see the Hermes of Praxiteles, think it Roman,
+and consider the Maiden of Anzio a work of the time of the Antonines,
+and who find other blind souls to follow them, does not delay the Brunns
+and Furtwaenglers when they make their rare appearance in the world of
+scholarship.
+
+Thus with no help or suggestion derived from information given us by
+ancient travellers we start on our study of the Athena with the
+knowledge that the technique of the art of sculpture was so well
+understood, and the practice of it so common, at Cyrene, that we need
+not, unless forced by internal evidence, look elsewhere for the nameless
+sculptor who carved this masterpiece. The result will show that all the
+internal evidence is in favour of its Cyrenean origin.
+
+Since, then, sculpture was at Cyrene, as everywhere else in the Greek
+world, one of the common modes of expression, it remains for us to study
+the influences to which it was subjected. We meet here the strange
+phenomenon that the millennial-old civilisation of Egypt exerted
+apparently no influence whatever on the young Greek town to the west.
+That towards the end of the latter’s career, when she had fallen under
+Ptolemaic control, she should be unaffected by Egyptian thought is not
+surprising, for Egypt herself had at that time submitted to the spell of
+Greece, and the true Egyptian art must have seemed to the fellahin who
+then cultivated the Nile valley almost as strange as it does to us. If,
+however, the often-expressed theory, supposed to be borne out by certain
+statues found on the Acropolis of Athens and elsewhere, that the archaic
+sculptors of the Greek mainland were more or less governed by Egyptian
+ideals, be true, then it is odd that even the most archaic art of
+Cyrene, represented by statuettes of the sixth century B.C., does not
+exhibit a similar tendency. But this belief in the Egyptian influence on
+the artists of Greece is based, it seems to me, on unsound evidence.
+
+There are obviously two, and only two, chief points to consider, if one
+would fully understand a work of art. One is its outer form, the other
+what it is trying to express; for even the childish and misdirected
+efforts of the “Futurists” are an endeavour to express something—how
+futile these efforts are is shown by the fact that were it not for the
+titles given the works by the Futurists themselves no one, no matter how
+capable an artist or how mystical a dreamer, could possibly guess what
+they were intended to represent. The works show an even greater
+confusion of mind than that of Father Castel who in the early part of
+the eighteenth century attempted to make instruments which he called
+_clavecin des couleurs_ and _clavecin des odeurs_, instruments intended
+to produce by means of changing colours and perfumes the same effects as
+music.
+
+Now one thing in very truth Greek art never was, either in poetry,
+sculpture, painting, or in any other form: it was never confused, but
+had always perfect lucidity. In sculpture, for instance, the composition
+of the groups and figures, though often displaying an intricacy almost
+as great as that of a knot by Leonardo, is never anything but clear to
+the trained eye. To understand the value of this quality one need only
+look at the work of Rodin, which, no matter what elements of greatness
+it may be thought to have, certainly has not one slightest atom of Greek
+quality. Besides the evil of confusion another failure sculpture may
+show is the stagnation of formalism. This is one of the most noticeable
+features of Egyptian art. Notwithstanding the wonderful technical
+dexterity of the workers in that land, hieratic influences were too
+strong for them and their natural impulses were shackled by the bonds of
+dogma. This blight, too, the Greeks avoided. What then is the ground for
+maintaining that their early art was influenced by Egypt? That the early
+sculptors may have learnt many technical processes from Egyptians I
+would neither deny nor affirm. They may even have had Egyptian teachers,
+just as later the Romans had Grecian ones, but that does not mean that
+Greek art was of necessity moulded in accordance with Egyptian feelings
+and ideals.
+
+True it is that there are certain Greek statues which resemble in pose
+and stiffness certain Egyptian statues, but there is a fundamental
+difference between the two groups. The pose is an accident and can be
+duplicated in work from other parts of the world. The fundamental
+difference is that the stiffness of the Greek work does not represent
+the formalism of Egypt, but it is due to the awkwardness of
+inexperience. Take, for instance, the “Aunts” found on the Athenian
+Acropolis. They are by an unpractised, stiff hand and in that sense they
+are formal; but they are far more, delightfully spontaneous. Such work
+would have been inconceivable to an Egyptian and would have seemed to
+him irreligious and indecent. It is not to be thought that Greek art
+even in its period of fullest bloom was not formal; it was. It was the
+wonderful talent of the Greek clearly to understand the laws proper to
+the various arts, but he was always spontaneous and original, and his
+work exhibits formality but not formalism.
+
+These qualities are seen in the earliest work found at Cyrene, the
+terra-cottas already mentioned. That they should be so manifested is but
+another proof of the amazing force and individuality of the Greek mind.
+Any other race would almost surely have felt the influence of Egypt. Her
+territory joined that of Cyrene on the eastern border and the land
+between the city and the Nile offered no barriers of mountains or desert
+to hinder easy and comparatively rapid communication, yet the outer form
+and inner content of these early Cyrenean figures is completely and
+unmistakably Greek. That traders passed back and forth from one region
+to the other cannot be doubted. Caravans plodded their slow way from the
+sacred fountain to the mysterious river, coastwise boats skirted the
+inhospitable shore even as they do to-day. The Greek, then as now the
+costermonger of the Mediterranean, made his money, but he kept his
+individuality. Throughout the centuries, until at last spiritual
+aloofness was trampled down by a ruder and more powerful race, at Cyrene
+as completely as at Athens, the Greek maintained his own standards and
+beliefs. As the clumsy terra-cottas, wrought not very long after the
+first settlers were guided to the spring which made a great city
+possible, show this, so also does the Athena. Individual she is, and
+unique, but she is pure Greek. The reasons for some part of her
+individuality will become clear as we study her still further.
+
+We see, then, that the Athena is a work expressing with unveiled
+distinctness the Greek spirit, and also that there is no reason to
+suppose that the sculptor was other than Cyrenean; it remains to find
+out at what date the figure was carved. Often a mere fragment like this
+exhibits some detail that makes it easy to fix the date of its origin
+with considerable accuracy. In this case the question is complicated by
+both technical points and general considerations. Had this head been
+found in Greece itself or in any part of the Greek portion of Asia
+Minor, the history of which is well known and the art of which has been
+laid bare by the archæologist, we should have various well-established
+criteria by which to test and estimate the head. But the definite
+historical records of Cyrene are very scanty, and though what is
+probably in general a fairly accurate idea of the development of the
+city can be built up from the verses of poets, the accounts of
+historians and other sources of various kinds, still there is little to
+help us date a single work of art. There is, however, no reason to
+suppose that the deeper currents which gave the course to the life of
+Cyrene were very different from those which guided the life of other
+colonies. Pindar’s odes alone would serve to show that the African city
+was in pretty constant relation with the mother country. Hence it is
+safe to assume that the arts developed in Cyrene very much as they did
+elsewhere in the Greek world.
+
+At the present time surely enough is known of the various parts of that
+world to make us realise that all advance did not spring from Greece
+herself. Though the Greek spirit was bound to express itself in similar
+forms wherever Greeks settled, still sometimes one region, sometimes
+another, was in the lead. Hence any chronological scale as applied to
+art must be elastic, and one must not give way to the temptation to
+judge every new find by the standards set by the artists of Greece
+herself. Provincialism and archaism often take similar external forms.
+So, too, it is a general law that colonies develop more rapidly than the
+country from which they spring. A rapid development may be brought about
+also by geographical and climatic conditions in places which, at first
+sight, do not appear to be conducive to the advancement of art.
+
+In years to come it will be proved beyond a doubt, I believe, that
+Cyrene was such a place. Her distance from the regions in which we are
+accustomed to think of the Greeks as working out their destiny saved her
+from the wastage of those wars which it is hard to regret because they
+have given us immortal pictures of Greek courage and devotion. What her
+relations with the native powers were we do not yet know, but had they
+led to any such struggles as made the pride of Athens and the other
+cities of the mother country, surely some echo would have reached our
+ears. So we may think of Cyrene as waxing fat from the moment when the
+first settlers, after their long wanderings to find a habitable spot,
+climbed the rocky hillsides and quenched their thirst at the spring
+which with its bright arms still holds a small settlement. It is for
+these general considerations of easy colonial growth, and freedom from
+external distractions, that I think the Athena can be safely dated
+rather earlier than we should be tempted to date her had she been found,
+let us say, in Athens or Sparta.
+
+The technical point which I mentioned as making it difficult to date the
+head, is the helmet. It is of the Corinthian type, but there is nothing
+in its general shape or details of form by which a date can be fixed.
+Furthermore, it covers the head so completely that only a few waving
+locks of hair over each ear and the heavy braid resting on the nape of
+the neck are visible. This concealment of the hair takes away in large
+measure one of the most helpful methods of dating statuary.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXI.]
+
+In the case of female figures, nevertheless, the treatment of the hair
+is less helpful, perhaps, than in statues of the rougher sex because in
+the former the more severe and orderly dressing of the bound locks gave
+less chance for individuality of treatment than did the crisp and
+wind-tossed curls of youths and men; still, even in the women’s figures
+the hair very often betrays the date of the sculptor. Few though the
+tresses are which escape the stern covering of Athena’s helmet, they are
+sufficient to help us in our elusive pursuit. The general method in
+which the hair is arranged, parted over the brow and drawn closely back
+above the ears to a knot or short doubled up braid at the back, is one
+that suffered but little change during several centuries. In the archaic
+time the locks fell more loosely behind, while in the fourth century
+they were more knotted, but these slight variations occur now and again
+throughout the whole period of great Greek art and were due more to
+individual fancy of artist or model than to the stifling rules of
+fashion.
+
+But though we must finally conclude that the mode of wearing the hair
+does not assist us, as the cut of the dress most certainly would have
+done had we been fortunate enough to find the body of the statue, still
+the tresses between the temple and the ear have a quality of their own
+which points to a definite time. They suggest the loose waving form of
+life with noteworthy success. The sculptor belonged to a period when the
+special nature of marble was thoroughly understood. The period had
+passed when bronze and marble were treated in almost identical fashion,
+and the time had come when sculptors could manage various materials with
+complete understanding and were enabled to reproduce surfaces or
+substances in the way best suited to malleable metal or to friable
+stone.
+
+The most perfect example of this understanding of substance which we
+possess, and one that has never been surpassed, is the head of Hermes by
+Praxiteles made in the first half of the fourth century before Christ.
+The hair of the Athena is handled in much the same way. The locks and
+strands are not sharply outlined and separated one from another but flow
+from brow to neck in subtly broken masses among which the light plays in
+and out as softly as in nature. This naturalistic treatment became
+common after it had once been arrived at, but the tendency after the end
+of the fourth century was to try for purer realism. This could not be
+attained by greater skill in modelling and carving but only by polishing
+or engraving the surface. The Athena exhibits neither of these signs of
+decadence but the surface still shows that lovely dusty softness which
+is characteristic of the best work of the late fifth and early fourth
+centuries, a softness which would not have been imperceptible and
+lacking in effect even when the figure was tinted with colour, as,
+probably, all Greek sculpture was.
+
+It is not only the hair which suggests the date of the early fourth
+century as the time when the Athena was made. The broad chin, projecting
+well away from the neck, a chin that would be heavy, were it not for the
+exquisiteness of its outline, which seems to have the living force of a
+coiled steel spring, is such as was common in the fifth and early fourth
+centuries. So, too, are the broad set, wide opened eyes overhung by the
+long low curve of the brow. Not a sign in these of the sentimentally
+dreaming eyes with their melting lower lids which we associate with the
+work of the imitators and followers of Praxiteles; not a trace of the
+furrowed brow and the eye gleaming, like a live coal, from the deep
+shadowed socket such as we see in the work of Scopas and the superb
+masters of Pergamon.
+
+In discussing such a fragment as this Athena it cannot be too clearly
+remembered that the sculptor, like the poet, does but express his own
+day, and if Praxiteles was delicate and sentimental or Scopas forceful
+and passionate, it was because these were characteristic qualities of
+their periods. These are, furthermore, exactly the qualities one would
+expect at a time when old standards were beginning to be doubted and the
+future offered nothing so substantial to take their place.
+
+The same phenomenon is seen in the seventeenth century of our era. In
+both periods thoughtful people either clung to a sentimental repetition
+of old ideas which no longer had life-giving and creative force, but
+were loved and dwelt on for the sake of old association, or else they
+were driven to a passionate striving after new and dimly seen hopes and
+ideals. Sentimental dreaming took the place of good hope and assurance
+while mystical passion took that of intelligent piety. In the face of
+the Athena there is seen no sign of a troubled spirit, she is calm and
+steadfast with the strength of perfect self-poise, which could hardly
+be, were she sprung from a later time than the early fourth century.
+
+It has been insisted that there is in this head no trace of
+sentimentality, and it may be thought that I have failed to notice, or
+to give due weight to, the curious pose, drooping over slightly to one
+side. This is one of the most noticeable points about the head, but, to
+my mind, it expresses a feeling common in the fifth and early fourth
+centuries and is not motived in the slightest degree by the later
+sentimentality. In the old man seated on the ground in the Olympia
+pediment, in the Mourning Athena at Athens, in most of the grave steles
+of the late fifth and early fourth centuries, in the portrait bust of
+Pericles, is to be seen, in the pose and expression of the figures, the
+expression of a deep sentiment of combined gravity and tenderness. Again
+and again this sentiment is expressed by the great dramatists in words
+that ring down the centuries like distant bells. It is the recognition
+of suffering and sorrow but also of the self-control that meets them
+undismayed. When the Greeks lost their faith, at the same time they lost
+this control. In the Demeter of Cnidos and the portrait of Mausolus
+there are unmistakable signs of lack of control,—in the former the
+startled pose, and in the latter the look of distress plainly visible in
+the fine and vigorous face. The Athena resembles the Pericles and the
+grave steles in this respect. The head leans over as though bent by the
+wind (a position which emphasises the exquisite shape of the neck), but
+in the steady, quiet eyes and in the sensitive closed lips one sees
+plainly that simple directness that distinguished the Greeks of the
+period to which I attribute this head, from all the other peoples who
+have inhabited this earth.
+
+I have just mentioned the mouth of the figure, and this is the feature
+to which I referred before as showing, possibly, the effect of local
+circumstance on the sculptor. It is a very noticeable mouth; large with
+unusually full and richly modelled lips—lips that could send the battle
+cry echoing across the scarred and rock-strewn hills or could whisper
+like the brook beneath the rosy-plumed oleanders. In shape it is by no
+means a typical Greek mouth, but has a trace of the fuller form common
+to the Libyans with whom the Cyreneans were in constant and close
+intercourse. While it is true that history fails to note a single case
+of an individual of pure black blood accomplishing anything of note
+except in a military way, such do often possess great beauty of form and
+feature, and this fact has been seized upon by the sculptor of the
+Athena. With great skill he has softened the somewhat savage shape and
+given it the lines that are consequent upon a higher civilization.
+
+We have come now to the end of our study of this bit of sculpture. It
+could be compared indefinitely with other heads, and the similarities or
+differences could be pointed out. Little would result, however, from
+such comparisons. What is needed is more sculpture from the same region
+with which to study the Athena. But till this is forthcoming, we are
+left to the general conclusions derived from this single example. These
+conclusions are that the Athena was carved by some as yet unknown artist
+at Cyrene in the first half of the fourth century B.C. and that the work
+differs from the Greek work we are accustomed to in showing local
+characteristics both in special features and in method. This may seem to
+be of small importance and the head to be unworthy so elaborate a
+discussion; such would be the case were we to think of it merely as an
+archæological remnant of a forgotten city and time. But this head is
+more than a mere bit of flotsam. It is not a dead and meaningless
+fragment, but has still the suggestive and creative power of any true
+work of art. This vitality and artistic veracity are shown by the
+extreme clearness with which it illustrates two of the fundamental
+characteristics of the Greek genius—humanism and directness.
+
+The simplicity and directness of the Greek showed itself in all he did
+or made. He never attributed human emotions to nature and never bound
+himself with dogmatic conventions. For these reasons he was never
+sentimental and never dry or false. He saw ugliness, moral as well as
+material, in the world around him, but recognising that it in no way
+added to happiness, he did not wallow in it and proclaim himself a
+“realist.” When he came to consider religion he was straightforward in
+his treatment of the Gods as he was with himself. They were but a
+superior race born from the same great mother Earth (Pindar, Nem. VI.
+1). Athena, the Goddess, is but a woman and nothing more. He saw
+beautiful women in the cities where he dwelt and in form of their
+physical perfection he represented the bright-eyed Goddess. He sought no
+imaginary qualities, he attempted to express no hazy, mystical dreams
+but finding beauty in mankind, he was satisfied to reproduce it so well
+as might be.
+
+Ordinary everyday life was the chief interest of the thoughtful Greek.
+He had the same circumstances of existence around him as we have to-day,
+and knew just as much of the origin or the end of it all. Life, death
+and the passing show of time were his schoolmasters as they are ours,
+and from them he learnt humanism. He thought of the world not as a blind
+accident nor as a mystical promise but merely as the setting for man and
+hence the conduct of life became his chief interest.
+
+The Greek sought for all means whereby he might avoid the pitfalls of
+youth, secure the comforts of well-rounded growth and minimise the
+weaknesses and griefs of old age. To attain this ideal certain things
+were seen to be necessary, and from Solon, who considered that the man
+was happy who had health, good fortune, good looks and children, to
+Aristotle, who (Rhet. 1360 b, 14) gave the same definition in a more
+amplified form, the ideal did not alter. Even to-day there is but one
+part of this that seems strange to us. That is the stress laid on
+personal beauty. Good fortune, health, wisdom, children and particularly
+wealth go to form the general ideal of the modern world, but there can
+be only few who would admit that the desire for physical beauty was part
+and parcel of their ideal. The Greek on the other hand frankly desired
+it almost more than anything else and showed his perfectly simple and
+entirely pleasant belief in its value by his games and by many a story
+which he told as illustrative of enduring truths. One of these tales has
+a bearing on the Athena of Cyrene. It is that of Peisistratus, who in
+order to become ruler of Athens came there accompanied by a beautiful
+woman in regard to whom he told the credulous citizens that she was the
+Goddess Athena herself.
+
+Thus we see that it is due to no mere partiality for the pleasing form
+on the part of the unknown sculptor that this head from Cyrene is
+beautiful, but because his brain and hand were guided by ideals that
+were second nature to him. As we grow familiar with the head, the
+loveliness of every feature, the sharp insistence on sweet feminine
+beauty make one wish destruction might fall on the vague and dreamy and
+contorted realisms with which many of the modern artists would attract
+our attention. The calm and steadfast eyes look at us across the
+centuries and question our mysticism. The straightforward, immediate,
+perfect humanity gives us pause in our mad search for novelty, and
+should we conclude that this is perfect art, though we may lose the
+sympathy of our contemporaries, we shall win the companionship of those
+whose laurels are immortal.
+
+
+
+
+                               GIORGIONE
+
+
+_Although in the following Study of Giorgione I express certain
+conclusions which seem to me certain, it is nevertheless probable that
+there will never be absolute agreement about his works. The indubitable
+facts concerning him are so very few that no two critics can be expected
+to see the matter eye to eye. I disagree in many points with the
+pathbreakers Morelli and Berenson, but it should not be forgotten that
+the knowledge of such men gives an added keenness to the innate powers
+of perception of those who come after them. Their torch lights ours, and
+so the path is pursued._
+
+_The publication of Justi’s valuable work on Giorgione (Berlin, 1908),
+in which all the pictures still in existence that have bearing on
+Giorgione are reproduced, makes full illustration of this Study quite
+unnecessary._
+
+
+                  I. PAINTINGS ATTRIBUTED TO GIORGIONE
+
+A great upheaval and destruction of old traditions has taken place of
+late years in regard to paintings, and while much truth has been brought
+to light, a great deal of fancy has been given the semblance of
+veracity. The name of Morelli is familiar to all who take a serious
+interest in the paintings of the Italian schools, and though he was not
+the first to practise what not inaptly has been dubbed the ‘toe-nail’
+method of criticism, yet his writings are more voluminous than those of
+other authors, and exemplify this method of criticism more completely,
+so that he may be taken as the protagonist of the school. It was the
+development of photography, and the vast increase in the number of
+pictures of which photographs could be procured, which gave rise to the
+Morellian school. The writers of earlier days who could not have before
+them on their tables, or carry with them to the galleries, a large
+quantity of reproductions of the works of any one master, were in a
+large measure prevented from studying the comparative likenesses or
+dissimilarities of such pictures.
+
+But, as was natural, with this intensive study of photographs has come
+about a microscopic method of looking at pictures which often disregards
+the larger and more unquestionable qualities, and satisfies itself with
+tricks of drawing and the painting of details. It is as though instead
+of considering the structure and content of a book, one should measure
+the lines and number the punctuation points. It is within the realm of
+possibility that the day has passed for treatises based on such thorough
+study and acute perception of the qualities expressed by the Italian
+painters as were written by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, or such
+magnificently imaginative and poetic interpretations as the enduring
+verities first enunciated by Ruskin.
+
+Not that these men did not make mistakes. Had they never done so we
+should not be able to give a true valuation to their work. Stupidity is
+not demonstrated by the making of blunders but by the spirit that
+animates the person at the moment of their commission. Ruskin, to
+illustrate by means of the brightest example, realised that paintings
+are expressions of thought just as much as are printed books, and that
+they are to be read and understood not by adding the vowels together in
+one heap and the consonants in another, but in their entirety.
+
+Morelli and his followers, on the other hand, are obviously in large
+measure satisfied by an analysis of external forms and if they discover
+that each of two pictures presents the same number of curved and
+straight lines, no further proof is needed to satisfy them that the same
+author is responsible for both works. It is true that details of style
+must be studied and were often neglected by the earlier critics, but the
+famous proof of the identity of Moses and Melchisedek—“you take off the
+-_oses_ and add the -_elchisedek_”—will never satisfy many people.
+Morelli forgot that it requires no special perception to discover that
+Botticelli gave his figures square nails on their toes and fingers, or
+that the knuckles of Rosselli’s figures are apt to be swollen. But it is
+exactly this kind of observation which copyists possess. By the
+observation of such points one is able to say only that such and such a
+work is externally like the works of this or that artist, but that it is
+by him depends on quite other proofs.
+
+One or two examples will show the fallacy of such a method of argument.
+There is in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts a picture representing the
+Virgin and Child with St. John. The name of Botticelli is on the frame.
+So far as finger nails or shape of nostril or locks of hair or position
+of fingers go (and all these details are peculiarly treated by
+Botticelli), the work might be considered to be by him. It is, however,
+certain that Botticelli was not the painter of the panel. Among several
+circumstances that demonstrate this, such as the method of painting
+employed by the artist, there is one that has to do with the spirit of
+the work, and which in itself is sufficient proof: I refer to the figure
+of St. John. We have enough works by Botticelli, the authenticity of
+which is established beyond all question, to know that he could never at
+any period of his career have represented this character with a simper
+that reminds one of Francia’s sentimental figures.
+
+The picture is by a feeble imitator of the master. The works of
+Botticelli and his imitators offer, because of the very marked
+peculiarities of the master, extremely good examples to show what
+mistakes arise by relying too exclusively on the Morellian method, and
+in both public and private collections are many pictures showing the
+mannerisms of the Florentine but which are certainly not by him.[36]
+Take another master, Leonardo. There has lately gone to America[37] a
+panel representing the head of a woman. It was left by Morelli when he
+died to Donna Laura Minghetti. To the followers of Morelli, the picture
+seemed for a long time genuine enough, but when the style of the
+headdress, the tone of the colour and character of the painting, and
+lastly the position of the head on the panel itself, had been studied,
+it became evident that the painting was a modern forgery, and this was
+further proved when an attempt was made to clean the panel.
+
+These illustrations are sufficient to show that the final judgment of a
+picture should be based on more than its technical peculiarities. The
+observation of these is good to begin with, but it does not suffice.
+That even Morelli himself instinctively felt the weakness of his method
+is shown in a most humorous way in his description of his “discovery” of
+the author of a portrait of a woman in the Borghese Gallery.
+
+He tells us how before he looked at this canvas with _kritischem Auge_
+he had first thought it to be by Dosso Dossi and then by Sebastiano
+Luciani. The rest is too naïve to translate, it must be given verbatim.
+“Eines Tages jedoch, als ich wieder fragend und entzückt vor dem
+mysteriösen Bilde stand, begegnete mein eigener Geist dem des Künstlers,
+welcher aus diesen weiblichen Zügen heraussah und siehe da, in der
+gegenseitigen Berührung zündete es plötzlich wie ein Funken und ich rief
+in meiner Freude aus: Nur du, mein Freund, Giorgione kannst es sein, und
+das Bild antwortete: Ja, ich bin’s”; and then follows analysis and
+dissection of the portrait.
+
+The still small voice of his soul having interpreted the riddle of the
+picture he _then_ saw that the eye, the expression, the mouth were such
+as only Giorgione could paint. In a critical case like this Morelli had
+to look first to something other than anatomical or sartorial shapes.
+Unfortunately, in this particular case, he has convinced but few
+students by this sudden and mysterious interpretation of the picture,
+and only his most ardent apostles see in the ill-drawn portrait anything
+but a feeble imitation of certain of the less subtle qualities of the
+great Venetian.
+
+Morelli made, however, other discoveries in regard to Giorgione of
+greater import than this; but before taking them up in detail it will be
+worth while to fix clearly in our minds what we know about the
+Venetian’s work from contemporary or approximately contemporary writers.
+Vasari and Ridolfi do not, indeed, fail to give the name of Giorgione to
+many a picture that had never felt the artist’s brush, but they saw many
+a picture that has since disappeared and what they tell us is the basis
+of all modern criticism of this most poetic of all the Venetians. I
+believe it can be shown that much which the earlier writers said of him,
+and which has since been forgotten or unwisely disregarded, is true.
+
+I will say nothing of the life that Giorgio Barbarelli Giorgione,
+Zorzone as his comrade Venetians called him, led. That has little to do
+with us. I wish merely to show which pictures now labelled with his name
+may in my opinion be confidently accepted as his, and which ones we are
+justified in taking from him. In his early days he painted, says Vasari,
+in the second edition of the “Lives”:
+
+     1. Many pictures of the Virgin.
+
+     2. David, armed and with long hair, holding the head of Goliath.
+
+     3. Warrior with a red cap, a fur cloak and a silk jacket.
+
+     4. Child. (2, 3, and 4 were owned by the Patriarch of Aquileia.)
+
+     5. Portrait of Giovanni Borgherini and his master.
+
+     6. Head of a warrior, owned by Anton de’ Nobili in Florence.
+
+     7. Portrait of Consalvo Ferrante.
+
+     8. Portrait of the Doge Leonardo Loredano.
+
+     9. Many other portraits.
+
+     10. Frescoes on the Ca Soranzo in Venice—one representing a figure
+       of Spring.
+
+     11. Frescoes on the front of the Fondaco de’ Tedeschi—the scenes
+       were apparently fantastical or allegorical.
+
+     12. Christ carrying the cross, in the church of San Rocco.
+
+     13. A nude figure to show that by means of reflections painting is
+       able to show all parts of a thing at once.
+
+     14. Portrait of Catharine, Queen of Cyprus.
+
+     15. Portrait of one of the Fugger family.
+
+This list suffices to show that Vasari’s knowledge of Giorgione’s work
+was slight—and we can prove furthermore it was also imperfect. This is
+disheartening enough, but a still greater disappointment comes from the
+fact that of this list of fifteen numbers (including of course many more
+than fifteen pictures) there are but five of which either the originals
+or copies are preserved to-day. These five are Nos. 2, 5 (?), 11, 12,
+and 15. Numbers 5 and 15 are certainly not by Giorgione. The former is
+not improbably the picture in Berlin (No. 152) of which a replica is in
+the Louvre (No. 1156), both pictures attributed merely to the Venetian
+school, and the latter hangs in the Munich Gallery (No. 1107) under the
+name of Cariani.[38] No. 2 is usually thought to be the picture in
+Vienna, but Justi (Georgione, p. 182) shows that it may be a picture in
+Brunswick.[39]
+
+Ridolfi gives a much longer list of Giorgione’s works:
+
+     16. Madonna enthroned, in the church of San Liberale in
+       Castelfranco. Portraits.
+
+     17. The dead Christ held by angels, at Treviso.
+
+     18. Frescoes on Giorgione’s own house in Venice. Figures and
+       fantasies.
+
+     Frescoes on the Ca Soranzo (same as No. 10). Destroyed all but a
+       woman with flowers in her hand and Vulcan who whips Cupid.
+
+     19. Fables from Ovid; among them Apollo and Daphne, and Zeus as a
+       bull with Europa on his back. These showed strong landscape
+       feeling. Gigantomachia. Deucalion and Pyrrha. Apollo and the
+       Python. Apollo and Daphne. Io. Phaethon. Pyrrhus and Phlegon.
+       Eos. Diana and Callisto. Mercury stealing Apollo’s herds. Jove
+       and Europa. Cadmus and serpents’ teeth. Actæon. Venus and Mars
+       caught by Vulcan. Niobe. Jove and Mercury at the house of Baucis.
+       Ariadne. Alcides. Achelous. Deianeira. Loves of Apollo and
+       Hyacinth. Venus and Adonis. Those owned by Sig. Vidman were:
+       birth of Adonis, Adonis and Venus, Adonis’s death.
+
+     Portraits (cf. No. 9): Agostino Barbarigo, Catharine Cornaro
+       (perhaps the same as No. 14), Consalvo Ferrante.
+
+     20. Frescoes on the Ca Grimani alla Servisa (Nude woman of
+       beautiful form); on a house on the Campo di Santo Stefano, near
+       S. M. Giubenico (Bacchus, Venus and Mars, half figures,
+       grotesques and _putti_); and on the Fondaco de’ Tedeschi (same as
+       No. 11), _trofei_, nudes, heads, allegorical figures measuring
+       the world. Man on horseback.
+
+     21. A concert (now in the Pitti).
+
+     22. Allegory of human life in Casa Cassinelli, Genoa (Nurse holding
+       crying child, and a knight; Youth disputing with Philosophers,
+       and an old man).
+
+     23. Celius Plotius attacked by Claudius.
+
+     24. Family group—un vecchio in atto di castrare un gatto.
+
+     25. Naked woman and shepherd. She smiles at him as he plays his
+       pipe.
+
+     26. David, a knight and a soldier, owned by And. Vendramin.
+
+     27. Naked Venus “ignuda dormiente,—è in Casa Marcella è a piedi è
+       Cupido con augellino in mano.”
+
+     28. Woman dressed as a gipsy, in house of Gio. Batt. Sanuto.
+
+     29. Saul holding by the hair the head of Goliath brought to him by
+       David. Owned by the Signori Leoni di San Lorenzo.
+
+     30. Judgment of Paris, owned by the Signori Leoni di San Lorenzo.
+
+     31. Judgment of Solomon, in Casa Grimana di Santo Ermacora; the
+       figure of the executioner unfinished. (Now at Kingston Lacy,
+       England.)
+
+     32. Virgin, St. Jerome and other figures, owned by Signor Gussoni.
+
+     33. Warrior, owned by Signor Ruzzini.
+
+     34. Knight with black armour, owned by Signori Contarini da S.
+       Samuello.
+
+     35. Half figure of St. Jerome reading, owned by Signori Malipieri.
+
+     36. Portraits of Luigi Crasso, seated, with spectacles in his hand.
+       Owned by Nicolo Crasso.
+
+     37. Story of Psyche. Twelve pictures.
+
+     38. St. Sebastian, in the Chiesa della Annunciata, Cremona.
+
+     39. St. Sebastian,—three-quarter length, owned by Prince
+       Aldobrandini.
+
+     40. David, owned by Prince Borghese.
+
+     41. A youth with a curious fur cloak, owned by Signori Muselli in
+       Verona.
+
+     42. Christ led to Calvary, with Mary and the virgin Veronica,
+       figures half life size.
+
+     43. Head of Polyphemus.
+
+     44. Portraits of women with strange ornaments and feathers in their
+       hair.
+
+     David with long hair, dressed in a corselet and with the left hand
+       in the hair of the head of Goliath (same as No. 2). This was a
+       portrait of himself.
+
+     45. A general.
+
+     46. Youth with soft hair and armed.
+
+     Portrait of one of the Fuggers (same as No. 15).
+
+     47. A nude figure with a green cloth over his knees and armour
+       beside him, owned by Van Veert in Antwerp.
+
+     48. ‘Some say that he began’ the picture of Pope Alexander III and
+       Frederick I in the Sala del Maggior Consiglio in Venice.
+
+This list is disappointing in the same way as the previous one, but,
+nevertheless, several of the numbers may be added to the list of
+pictures which are preserved. Besides those already noted in Vasari’s
+list Nos. 16, 17, 19 (?), 21, 23, 26, 27, 30, 31, 38, 40, exist in one
+form or another, but Nos. 17, 21, 23, 38 and 40, though still preserved,
+are not by Giorgione. No. 17 has nothing whatever to do with Giorgione,
+and is attributed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle to Pordenone. Whether this
+is by him is more than doubtful; I will speak of it in detail and also
+of 21 later. No. 23, called The Bravo, is in Vienna and is perhaps by
+Cariani; 30 is probably by Campagnola and is known by copies.[40] No. 38
+is in the Brera and is by Dosso Dossi, who was also the painter of 40,
+which is still in the Borghese Gallery. No. 48 was probably the same
+picture as that mentioned in the Venetian archives under date of August
+14, 1507, and was probably destroyed in the fire of 1575.[41]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXII.]
+
+Another author from whom we are able to gather more and important
+information, is Marc Antonio Michiel, more commonly known as the Anonimo
+Morelli. Among the pictures which he saw in Venice and neighbouring
+towns were several attributed to Giorgione:
+
+/# 49. Head of a boy holding an arrow. Owned by Ant. Pasqualino, who
+obtained it from Zuanne Ram.
+
+50. Head of San Giacomo holding a pilgrim’s staff. Owned by Ant.
+Pasqualino.
+
+  The Anonimo states that this was either by Giorgione or by one of his
+    pupils and that it was copied from the Christ in the Church of San
+    Rocco.
+
+51. St. Jerome, nude, seated in a desert place in the moonlight; “copied
+from a work by Giorgione.” Owned by And. Odoni.
+
+52. Three Philosophers. Owned by Taddeo Contarino.
+
+53. Hell, with Æneas and Anchises. Owned by Taddeo Contarino.
+
+54. Landscape with the birth of Paris. “One of his early works.”
+
+55. Portrait of Geronimo Marcello, armed,—the body turned away from, and
+the head towards, the spectator. Owned by Geronimo Marcello.
+
+  Nude Venus, sleeping in the open air. “The landscape and the Cupid
+    were finished by Titian.” Owned by Geronimo Marcello (same as No.
+    27).
+
+58. St. Jerome reading. Half figure (same as No. 35?). Owned by Geronimo
+Marcello.
+
+59. Soldier armed, but without a helmet. Half figure. Owned by
+Zuanantonio Venier.
+
+60. Head of a shepherd. In his hand a fruit. Owned by Zuanne Ram.
+
+  Head of boy. In his hand an arrow. Owned by Zuanne Ram (same as No.
+    49).
+
+61. Stormy landscape with a gipsy and a soldier. Owned by Gabriel
+Vendramin.
+
+62. Dead Christ and an angel holding him above the tomb. Finished by
+Titian. Owned by Gabriel Vendramin.
+
+63. Nude figure in a landscape. Pen drawing. Owned by Michiel Contarini.
+
+64. Finished picture of No. 63. Owned by Michiel himself.
+
+65. Portrait of Giorgione’s father. Owned by Piero Servio. #/
+
+Of this list, the particular value of which lies in the fact that it was
+made by one whose early years were probably contemporary with the close
+of Giorgione’s life, Nos. 52, 54, 61 and perhaps 62[42] are still
+(either the originals or copies) in existence. No. 59 suggests a picture
+in the Colonna Gallery in Rome which has much Giorgionesque feeling, but
+is in a ruined condition.
+
+Still another writer who mentions several pictures by the master is
+Giacomo Barri. I quote the passages from the English translation of his
+book:[43]
+
+  Page 106. Castelfranco. “Here is an admirable Picture of the _Blessed
+  Virgin with her Son_, the work of _Giorgione_. There are likewise
+  divers Palaces near adjacent where you will find works of the same
+  _Giorgone_ as also of Paulo Veronese.” (Same as No. 16.)
+
+  Venice, page 52. “And upon a front of a House near the house of the
+  _Pisani_, and the Palace of the _Flangini_, in _S. Maria Gibenigo_,
+  there are painted by the hand of _Giogone_, many _Freezes_ in _Chiaro
+  Scuro_, in Yellow, Red, and Green, with rare fancies of _Boys_, in the
+  middle of which are four Half-figures, _viz._, A _Bacchus_, a _Venus_,
+  a _Mars_, and a _Mercury_, coloured after the usual manner of the
+  Author.” (There is a note added to the words “the usual manner” which
+  reads: “Which was not to paint in above two or three colours.”) (Cf.
+  No. 20.)
+
+  Page 56. The ‘Fontico de Todeseti’ is mentioned. (Same as No. 11.)
+
+  Page 56. “In the field or place before S. Pauls you plainly see upon
+  the Front of the House of _Soranzo_ several Figures of Giorgone, most
+  beautiful things.” (Same as No. 10.)
+
+  Page 67. “The _albergo_ of the said school [School of St. Marks]. As
+  you enter, the first square on your left hand is by _Giorgone_.”
+
+  Page 84. “_The Church of the_ Hospital _of the_ Incurabili.” “And over
+  a side Door of the Church you may observe a little Square of our
+  _Saviour carrying the Cross_ and an Executioner drawing him along, by
+  the hand of _Giorgone_.” (Same as No. 12.)
+
+  Treviso, page 97. “The Mountain of Piety _in the aforesaid_ City.”
+  “Here they preserve a _Christ_ with a little _Angel_, a most singular
+  work, by the hand of Giorgone.” (Same as No. 17.)
+
+  Cremona, page 114. “Here is a picture of S. _Sebastian_ and two
+  _Angels_ by the hand of Giorgone.” (Same as No. 38.)
+
+  67. Parma, page 126. In the Palace of the _Fontana_. “There is also
+  the picture of _Fra Sebastiano del Piombo_, a Painter, the work of
+  _Giorgone_.”
+
+Only two pictures (66, 67) not mentioned by the other authors are given
+in this list, and one of these, the portrait of Sebastiano del Piombo,
+has, I believe, been lost sight of. The picture that was in the School
+of St. Marks now hangs in the Academia in Venice. It represents the
+story of the calming of a storm by the saints Nicholas, George and Mark.
+Some students consider this picture to be a work by Giorgione much
+repainted by Palma or Paris Bordone. Others, with whom I agree, fail to
+see in this ugly work the slightest suggestion of Giorgione.
+
+These then are the chief early sources for our knowledge of the subjects
+painted by Giorgione. If the list of his works seems small, it must be
+remembered that the painter was only some thirty-three years old when he
+died. The inaccuracy of the attributions made by these writers shows how
+careful one must be in dealing with the information they give us, and
+suggests the reflection that probably they were as careless in failing
+to speak of works that were certainly by the master as they were in
+mentioning others which unquestionably were not by him. All new
+attributions must, however, be based on a comparison with the few works
+which unbroken tradition and common consent give to Giorgione, and not
+with those about which trained opinion differs. Individual judgment as
+to the likeness one picture bears to another is very different from
+convincing proof. Before criticising individual works we must consider
+the basis for discussion that the lists present.
+
+Of the sixty-seven different items mentioned, the following are known to
+us.[44] 1 (?), 2, 5 (?), 11, 12, 15, 16, 17, 19 (?), 21 (?), 23, 26 (?),
+27, 29 (?), 30, 31, 38, 40 (?), 42 (?), 52, 54, 61, 62 (?), 66. Of these
+only 2, 5 (?), 11, 12, 16, 21 (?), 22 (?), 26 (?), 27, 31, 52, 54, 61,
+62 (?) need be considered as being related in any close way to
+Giorgione. The claims of Cariani, Licinio, Della Vecchia, and the host
+of other, generally feeble, imitators of Giorgione to the other pictures
+may be studied in Crowe and Cavalcaselle, or later works. Even some of
+the works included in the small list just given are not accepted as
+genuine by all the critics, but a few there are the authenticity of
+which could only be questioned by bringing much more serious evidence
+against them than I have ever seen adduced. These rare, choice works
+are:
+
+     2. David, armed, holding the head of Goliath. Now in Vienna. This
+       is not the original, but, as noted by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, a
+       late copy. I own another copy, on panel, which shows the lower
+       part of the picture better than the Vienna copy.
+
+     11. Frescoes on the Fondaco dei Tedeschi. Preserved, except a
+       fragment only, in Zanetti’s engravings.
+
+     12. Christ carrying the Cross, in the Church of San Rocco, Venice.
+
+     16. Madonna enthroned, in the Church of San Liberale in
+       Castelfranco.
+
+     27. Naked Venus, asleep, in Dresden. Some critics still hesitate to
+       accept Morelli’s attribution of this canvas to Giorgione, but the
+       greater number have, I believe, given a ready assent.
+
+     31. The Judgment of Solomon. Now at Kingston Lacy (Plate LXII).
+       This, the Castelfranco Madonna, and the Three Philosophers, are
+       in certain ways the most important works of the painter now
+       existing.
+
+     52. Three Philosophers. In Vienna (Plate LXVI).
+
+     54. Landscape with the Birth of Paris. A fragment of a poor copy of
+       this is preserved in Buda-Pesth. An engraving by T. van Kessel
+       from a copy of the picture by Teniers shows what the whole
+       composition was.
+
+     61. Stormy landscape, with a gypsy and a soldier. In the Palazzo
+       Giovanelli, Venice (Plate LXV).
+
+To these nine unquestioned works by Giorgione are to be added others
+that have no early literary evidence to bear out their claims to a
+Giorgionesque origin, but which unbroken tradition resisting even the
+assaults of modern criticism has assigned to this category. Such are:
+
+  The Judgment of Solomon, in the Uffizi.
+
+  The Fire-test of Moses, in the Uffizi.
+
+  Knight of Malta, in the Uffizi.
+
+  Head of Christ carrying the Cross, formerly in the Palazzo Loschi
+    Vicenza, and now in Mrs. Gardner’s Collection in Boston (Plate
+    LXVII).
+
+  Study for the figure of San Liberale, in the Castelfranco picture, in
+    the National Gallery, London.
+
+So far as the giving of any certain knowledge of Giorgione’s technique
+is concerned, the first three of these pictures are very disappointing,
+for all of them have been so thoroughly repainted that the original work
+is much injured. While most critics follow the tradition and believe
+Giorgione to have been the painter of these pictures, there are those
+who do not hold this opinion. For instance, Dr. Bode, one of the keenest
+judges of pictures, does not think the Judgment of Solomon, and the
+Trial of Moses, to be by him.[45] Others there are who think that the
+judgment passed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle on the Knight of Malta is very
+sound and satisfactory. They say: “Giorgione’s work was altered by later
+retouching, or the painter is a skilful imitator of Giorgione’s manner.”
+Personally, I believe all these to be by him.
+
+Taking now these fragments of written evidence and of tradition, let us
+see what the modern writers of most repute have considered to be
+examples of Giorgione’s work. To begin with Crowe and Cavalcaselle, they
+give as true Giorgiones the following:
+
+  The Fondaco de’ Tedeschi.
+
+  The Christ in San Rocco.
+
+  The Judgment of Solomon at Kingston Lacy.
+
+  The Chaldæan Sages (the Three Philosophers).
+
+  The Family of Giorgione (the picture in the Giovanelli Palace).
+
+  The Castelfranco Madonna.
+
+  The David in Vienna, of which they say “this is a late copy, perhaps
+    after the original noted by Vasari.”
+
+Of the traditional pictures they consider as the master’s work:
+
+  The Judgment of Solomon, in the Uffizi.
+
+  The Trial of Moses, in the Uffizi.
+
+  The Knight of Malta (?), in the Uffizi.
+
+They add:
+
+  The Shepherd’s Offering in the Beaumont (now Lord Allandale’s)
+    Collection, London.
+
+  The Adoration of the Magi, in the National Gallery, London; formerly
+    owned by Sir William Miles, of Leigh Court.
+
+These last two pictures are much less well known than the others. I
+shall endeavour to show that the later attributions of them to Catena or
+others are based on a mistaken idea of Giorgione’s style (not to mention
+Catena’s), and that Crowe and Cavalcaselle were perfectly right in their
+estimate of them. Other pictures which are often thought of in
+connection with Giorgione and which they, quite rightly I believe,
+refused to acknowledge, are:
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXIII.]
+
+  The Concert, in the Pitti.
+
+  The Fête Champêtre, in the Louvre.
+
+  Madonna and Saints, in the Louvre.
+
+  Nymph and Satyr, in the Pitti.
+
+  The Head of a Boy, at Hampton Court.
+
+  The Madonna and Child with St. Brigida, in Madrid.
+
+To take more modern writers, we find a very different list of works
+attributed to Giorgione by Morelli.[46] It consists of the following:
+
+  The Trial of Moses.
+
+  The Judgment of Solomon.[47]
+
+  The Christ bearing the Cross.
+
+  The Madonna of Castelfranco.
+
+  The Gypsy and the Soldier (Giovanelli Palace).
+
+  * The Madonna and Child with Sts. Antony and Roch. (Madrid.)
+
+  The Knight of Malta.
+
+  † * Daphne and Apollo. This is in the Seminario of St^a Maria della
+     Salute in Venice. Crowe and Cavalcaselle (II. 165) attribute it to
+     Andrea Schiavone, and with their opinion I agree.
+
+  * The Three Ages of Man, in the Uffizi, ascribed usually to Lotto.
+
+  The Concert, in the Louvre. (Same as Crowe and Cavalcaselle’s Fête
+     Champêtre.)
+
+  The Fragment of the Birth of Paris, in the Esterhazy Gallery,
+     Buda-Pesth.
+
+  * Portrait of a Man, in the Esterhazy Gallery.
+
+  * Portrait of a Woman, in the Borghese Gallery, Rome.
+
+  † Nymph and Satyr, in the Pitti.
+
+  † Portrait of a Youth, in Berlin.
+
+  † Head of a Boy, in Hampton Court.
+
+  Three Philosophers, in Vienna.
+
+  * Venus in Dresden.
+
+  † Allegory, in Dresden.      { These Morelli considers copies
+  † Judith, in St. Petersburg. { of Giorgione’s work.
+
+The pictures I have marked with an asterisk are those which Morelli was
+the first to claim with insistence for Giorgione, and with the exception
+of the Venus not one of these attributions has been generally accepted.
+Those marked with a dagger are attributions of older or younger date.
+About all of them, certain doubts, and about most of them doubts of very
+serious nature, must be dispelled, before the attribution can be
+accepted.
+
+The two points most noticeable in Morelli’s list are the differences in
+the style of the pictures included and the absence of others. It would
+be difficult to combine works more dissimilar than the Berlin portrait
+of a youth and the portrait of a woman in the Borghese, and even if one
+grants that an artist working at the time when Giorgione flourished was
+subjected to influences so strong and varied that the character of his
+work altered from time to time, it can only be explained by a miracle
+that the same man painted the Castelfranco Madonna and the Daphne and
+Apollo. Even the last dashing works of the century-old Titian differ
+hardly more from his calmer earlier canvases than do these two pictures,
+which Morelli would have us believe were painted by a man who died at
+the age of thirty-two or thirty-three. This curious, one may not
+unfairly say erratic, combination of Morelli may perhaps be explained by
+supposing, as is true in other parts of his work, that he was so taken
+up with the similarity of certain details that he forgot to study the
+larger and more telling characteristics of the pictures. But what
+explanation is there of his strange silence regarding the Benson[48] and
+Beaumont pictures, the Judgment of Solomon at Kingston Lacy, the Vienna
+David, and the Christ bearing the Cross in San Rocco?
+
+A later and slightly different form of the Morelli list is given by
+Berenson.[49] It is as follows:
+
+  Berlin, Portrait of a Man.
+
+  Buda-Pesth, Portrait of a Man.
+
+  Castelfranco, Duomo, Madonna with Sts. Francis and Liberale.
+
+  Dresden, Sleeping Venus.
+
+  Florence, Uffizi, Trial of Moses; Knight of Malta; Judgment of
+    Solomon.
+
+  Hampton Court, Shepherd with Pipe.
+
+  Madrid, Madonna with Sts. Roch and Antony of Padua.
+
+  Paris, Fête Champêtre.
+
+  Rome, Villa Borghese, Portrait of a Lady.
+
+  St. Petersburg, Judith (?).
+
+  Venice, Academy, Storm calmed by St. Mark. Finished in small part by
+    P. Bordone. (In the edition of 1894, Berenson attributed this to P.
+    Bordone, saying that perhaps it was begun by Giorgione.)
+
+  Venice, Seminario, Apollo and Daphne; Giovanelli, Gypsy and Soldier;
+    S. Rocco, Christ bearing Cross.
+
+  Vicenza, Casa Loschi, Christ bearing Cross. (Now in the Gardner
+    Collection, Boston.)
+
+  Vienna, Evander showing Æneas the Site of Rome. (Often called the
+    Three Philosophers.)
+
+In an article[50] published since the appearance of his book, Berenson
+has added to the above list several pictures which he considers to be
+copies of Giorgiones. They are:
+
+  Bergamo, Orpheus and Eurydice. The copy made by Cariani.
+
+  Buda-Pesth, Two men walking. Fragment. (This is what Morelli calls the
+    Birth of Paris.)
+
+  Milan, Portrait of a lady, belonging to Signor Crespi.
+
+  St. Petersburg, Judith.
+
+  London, Portrait of a man formerly belonging to Mr. Doetsch; now owned
+    by Colonel Kemp.
+
+
+
+
+                         II. THE TRUE GIORGIONE
+
+
+A superficial study of the lists which have been given suffices to show
+that the various critics have very different standards by which to judge
+Giorgione and his works. I much doubt whether entire order can be
+brought out of the chaos that now rules, but a sounder basis for future
+study can be derived from a combination of the best points of the work
+of these very differently endowed critics than any one of them by
+himself offers.
+
+So far as Crowe and Cavalcaselle go, they are, I believe, entirely
+right. Among the twelve pictures which they unhesitatingly ascribe to
+Giorgione, only three have been questioned by any one. These three are,
+the Judgment of Solomon, at Kingston Lacy, the Epiphany, in the National
+Gallery, and the Beaumont Shepherd’s Offering. The only possible
+explanation of the fact that Morelli does not mention the picture at
+Kingston Lacy is that he did not see it.[51] It is one of those works
+that in every touch show the author. Even if we did not have Ridolfi’s
+evidence for the existence of such a work, it is difficult to understand
+how hesitation could arise in the mind of any one undisturbed by
+theories as to the author of the picture. The figure of the executioner
+is, as Ridolfi says, unfinished. So, too, is practically the whole
+picture (Plate LXII).
+
+What strikes one at first sight is the similarity to Bellini’s work at
+the same time that one realises a development of dramatic power greater
+than he ever attained. The fine restraint of composition is his, the
+serious and painstaking technique is his, but the dramatic energy
+displayed in the action of the several figures is a step beyond anything
+which Bellini ever accomplished. And the few undoubted works show that
+Giorgione was great enough to compose with the same grandeur, and work
+with a similar perfection to Bellini, and yet give more dramatic
+intensity to his figures. But if any one is blind to the spirit that
+permeates this wonderful bit of poetry, let him study the details. The
+head of the youth standing upright on Solomon’s right hand is most
+closely allied to that of the seated figure in the Three Philosophers.
+The old man on the left of Solomon is in his turn very similar to the
+oldest of the Three Philosophers. Compare the hand of the second figure
+from the right with the left hand of the last-mentioned Philosopher: it
+is the same.
+
+The tight drawn hair of the women is the same as that of the
+Castelfranco Madonna and the Gypsy in the Giovanelli Palace picture. The
+strong, broad, full-toed, carefully drawn feet are what we see in the
+Three Philosophers, and the St. Francis of the Castelfranco picture. The
+full-lipped, small, quietly closed but expressive mouths of the figures
+are such as distinguish Giorgione’s other unquestioned works and show a
+master’s touch. The draperies massed in grand, simple style, broken only
+by folds that truly show the quality of the stuff or its
+arrangement—that are not merely put in out of pure fancy—are like those
+that characterise the Castelfranco Madonna and the Three Philosophers.
+There is no refuting the judgment passed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle. This
+is a true Giorgione and in certain ways the finest of them all.
+
+I have refrained from comparing it with the Dresden Venus for the reason
+that this discovery of Morelli’s has been, though I believe on
+insufficient grounds, disputed, and some critics question whether the
+Venus is not a work of Titian. The evidence with which Morelli
+maintained the Giorgionesque origin of the work is very convincing, but
+there is a quality of the work upon which he did not lay sufficient
+stress. I refer to the lack of sensuousness in the figure. It is the
+lack of this mundane quality, the abstractness of the figure, that
+renders it ideal, which allies this work with the finest Greek
+sculpture, with figures of the Periclean epoch. The nude female figure
+is thought of not from a sexual standpoint, but from that of pure beauty
+of form. To represent such feeling was unlike Titian even in the most
+earnestly ideal of his youthful days. His work in almost every case has
+a glow of passion; Giorgione’s, on the contrary, suggests loveliness
+that deserves the deepest admiration, but does not suggest actual human
+life and action. The two ideals are the poles asunder. Titian’s is that
+of the man, Giorgione’s that of the woman. As Coleridge said, “Man loves
+the woman, but woman loves the love of the man,” and when one looks at
+Titian’s Venuses or his other female figures, one is inevitably more
+vigorously self-conscious and one’s attention is more indissolubly bound
+to the body than when one’s eyes rest on the statuesque beauties of the
+Castelfranco painter’s imaginings.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXIV.]
+
+The method by which these effects are depicted is unmistakable and
+clear. In Titian’s figures of nude women the glance of the eye is often
+distinctly and sharply focussed in the eye of the beholder, and the
+action of the figure is motived by the presence of the beholder. The
+painted image is the corollary of the being that looks upon her. It is
+not so in Giorgione’s work. His Venus is self-contained, self-centred
+and thoughtless of the outer world. The eyes (cf. the Giovanelli
+picture) do not strongly draw yours to themselves, and the action does
+not imply a realisation of the presence of any interested gazer. For
+exactly these reasons, plain simple reasons, but of deepest import, the
+Venus of Praxiteles is of inestimably greater worth than that later
+impersonation of female vigour and physical delight, the Venus de’
+Medici. And in similar manner Giorgione proves himself a man and an
+artist who attained to the adequate presentation of an ideal of beauty
+of the female figure far more elevated and uplifting than that held by
+his more famous contemporary Titian. The Venus may, as Morelli said, be
+safely considered as a true Giorgione.
+
+The case is not so clear, though I believe it is not less
+unquestionable, when we consider the Epiphany[52] of the National
+Gallery (Plate LXIII). The criticism passed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle on
+this picture and the Shepherd’s Offering in the Beaumont Collection is,
+so far as it goes, sound. They say of these pictures “that the style
+coincides with that which historians attribute to Giorgione; that most
+of the characteristics which predominate recur in canvases registered by
+the oldest authorities as those of Barbarelli; and that the landscapes
+in every case resemble each other and recall the country of
+Castelfranco.” There is much more proof, however, that can be adduced to
+show that only Giorgione could have painted these works. But first the
+attribution of them both to Catena[53] must be shown to be groundless.
+
+A word, however, in regard to logical reasoning about pictures, the lack
+of which constitutes a great weakness in Morelli and some of his
+followers, may perhaps be deemed not inappropriate here. Circumstantial
+evidence is at best only partially conclusive. Morelli did some
+brilliant work by its means in correcting the names under which many
+pictures had masqueraded. Such work must, it is self-evident, be founded
+on the signed works of the masters or on works whose authorship is
+proved by literary evidence of the strongest character. But he and his
+followers seem to forget that others may refuse adherence to the belief
+in one or more of these attributions and yet not be utterly foolish.
+Many minds are convinced by evidence which to other equally capable and
+well-trained intelligences does not carry the force of conviction, or
+may even seem to be based on a misapprehension of fundamental facts.
+Grant, however, that a given attribution of an unsigned work seems
+reasonable, still there are in most such cases parts of it that are to a
+certain extent dissimilar to the certified works of the master to whom
+it is attributed—otherwise it would never have been falsely named.
+
+Were this not true, how had doubt ever arisen in men’s minds as to who
+wrote the Rhesus, or when the Apollo Belvedere was made? Suppose now
+that in studying a picture and attributing it to an artist one finds a
+second or a third or a fourth picture that seems to be by the same
+painter. One sees that each has certain points in common with the signed
+works and others common only to the unsigned work which was the first of
+our new attributions. To deduce from the similarity which any two of the
+unsigned works bear to each other in their _differences_ from the signed
+works of the author to whom it is desired to attribute them, that they
+must be by this author, is an absolutely illogical and unreasonable
+method of argument. One can ‘prove’ anything in this way, which could
+without difficulty enable one to show that the Two Loves of the Borghese
+Gallery was painted by Perugino. All that is needed is a sufficiently
+large list of works each differing slightly from Perugino’s true
+masterpieces. It is but another form of the old game of turning one word
+into another by adding and subtracting syllables. Thus one turns _drama_
+into _odious_: drama, melodrama, melodious, odious.
+
+Unfortunately Morelli did not realise the weakness of this system. Had
+he done so, he would never have attributed to Catena the Epiphany of the
+National Gallery, and his followers would not consider the same artist
+as the painter of the Benson Holy Family and the Beaumont Shepherd’s
+Offering.[54] I do not mean to imply that he would have considered
+Giorgione as their author, but, it is only by strained and extravagant
+reasoning that they can be claimed for Catena. They bear no resemblance
+in either composition, colour or idea to any of the unquestioned works
+by this second-rate pupil of Bellini, the imitator, _par excellence_, of
+the work of his greater contemporaries.
+
+So far as a careful analysis enables one to make out from the context of
+the whole passage in which Morelli speaks of these works,[55] he seems
+to have convinced himself that Catena was the painter of the Epiphany
+because of the similarities that exist between it and the Knight adoring
+the Infant Christ and the St. Jerome in his Study in the same Gallery.
+The first thing to notice is that the likeness which the Epiphany bears
+to the St. Jerome is almost entirely imaginary. The chief difference
+between the two works is that the Epiphany is not only painted in a very
+different manner technically, but it is much less laboured. It shows
+vastly greater facility of draughtsmanship; the execution is very much
+more easy; the colour is fuller and purer; the chiaroscuro is more
+varied, and, finally, it is much more imaginatively conceived. It gives
+one, in fact, the impression of being by a master, whereas the St.
+Jerome seems nothing more either in imagination or in technique than the
+work of a careful, serious, arid-minded student.
+
+The St. Jerome in fact may well be by Catena, for these are the
+qualities with which we know he was endowed. The similarity between the
+Epiphany and the Knight adoring the Infant Christ is greater, but still
+not very great.[56] But here too we must remember that the attribution
+of the Knight to Catena is based not so much even on good circumstantial
+evidence as on the fairly unanimous belief among those capable of
+judging what certain phases of Catena’s changing style probably
+resembled. But the points wherein the Epiphany surpassed the St. Jerome
+are just those in which it shows greater mastery than is exhibited in
+the Knight. The same stiffness and awkwardness of drawing mark the
+Knight as by an artist of much less capacity than him of the Epiphany.
+
+So too does the clumsy, empty composition. The small-featured faces, the
+lack of appearance of real substance in the bodies, the dull and
+uninteresting chiaroscuro, the laboured technique are characteristic of
+Catena, but not one of them shows in the Epiphany. Catena may well have
+painted the beast like a hobby horse which the Knight’s page holds, but
+it was an abler hand than his which drew the horses from which the Magi
+have dismounted. The crinkly, crushed draperies in the Knight are
+similar to Catena’s work, but there is nothing like them in the
+Epiphany, where the glowing coloured garments are cast in simpler and
+grander and at the same time more natural lines. Can any one really
+imagine that the same man painted the dull, hard, conventional head of
+St. Joseph in the Knight and the much more thoughtful and original face
+of the same figure in the Epiphany? or how can any one believe that the
+same artist designed heads of such different shape, eyes and noses and
+mouths so unlike in the one and the other work; hands in the Knight so
+like turtles’ feet, and so vigorous and human in the Epiphany? It is
+surely improbable, and Crowe and Cavalcaselle were right when they
+recognised a great difference between the two works and saw in the
+smaller, richer one the hand of Giorgione. The reasoner who is calm and
+unpolemically minded must agree with them.
+
+The next picture for us to consider is the Beaumont Shepherd’s Offering
+which Crowe and Cavalcaselle give to Giorgione, but which is by Berenson
+and others considered a Catena.[57] If the Epiphany were a Catena, then
+the Shepherd’s Offering would be also, for not only the treatment and
+colour as a whole, but the details, more particularly the group of the
+Holy Family, is distinctly alike in both. The same reasons that show
+that it is impossible that Catena ever painted the Epiphany apply with
+even greater force to the Shepherd’s Offering. Both pictures are utterly
+unlike Catena’s work in all essential points, all those, that is to say,
+which are the expression of character. Certain Giorgionesque qualities
+show more strongly in the Shepherd’s Offering than in the smaller work.
+I will not analyse the details of form, substantiality of masses and
+richness of colour, for every unprejudiced eye will see that they are
+the same in each of these two works as they are in the unquestioned
+works by Giorgione. But there is a quality more difficult to analyse and
+to express in fixed terms, that stamps the Shepherd’s Offering not only
+as a work by Giorgione, but as a very characteristic expression of his
+genius. I refer to the impression given by the quietness of the scene,
+by the slight vagueness of it all, and to the colour and chiaroscuro
+that remind one of an evening landscape (Plate LXIV). All these points
+taken together make the scene seem mysterious and dreamlike.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXV.]
+
+Now, clearly enough, this romantic quality occurs to a greater or less
+extent in all the unquestioned Giorgiones. It is the deep religious
+ardour of Bellini turned to a broader field. It is the sharp focussed
+passion of Titian transmuted into an abiding love for all things
+beautiful. In the Giovanelli Landscape (Plate LXV) you see it in the
+strange combination of soldier and nude woman under the lightning-riven
+skies and the trees heavy and white with the storm. In the Three
+Philosophers you see it in the contrast of the three men of different
+ages and the quiet forest where they sit with the city in the distance
+that seems to be asleep (Plate LXVI). In the Virgin of Castelfranco you
+see it in the throne placed in the open meadows peopled by visionlike
+figures, in the deeply impressive silence and contrast of the monk and
+warrior, and in the still blue sea lapping the templed shores beyond.
+You see it in the Venus,—not any one woman so much as the presentation
+of everlasting feminine beauty—sleeping under the open sky across which
+roll great summer clouds rising from the distant sea. It is present
+almost invariably in his work and forms the chief richness of the
+Beaumont picture, in which the strangely silent group under the trees,
+the empty shepherd’s hut beyond and the deep distance of rolling,
+castelled hills and meadows, golden in the light of the low sun, is like
+a vision that one sees in those rare moments when one’s eyes pierce the
+husk of this world and we seem for one treasured instant to have passed
+the borders and be wandering in El Dorado.
+
+In none of Catena’s authentic works does he attain to such a height of
+imaginative presentation of daily phenomena. He could appreciate it, as
+is shown by his attempt in the Knight to paint in the manner of
+Giorgione, but that picture alone would be sufficient to show his
+incapacity to attain the goal at which he aimed. Nor is this feeling
+which we derive from Giorgione’s works imaginary and based on
+preconceived ideas. It is distinctly due to certain indubitable facts.
+No one questions the mystery and inexpressible beauty of the light of
+early dawn or evening, and it is this rather than the full, hard,
+mid-day glare that is the light of all Giorgione’s pictures. Nor is
+there doubt of the impressiveness of gloom, be it of forest or of storm,
+and such mystery as this was dear to the hill-born artist. Nor, further,
+can one hesitate to admit the visionary, mirage-like appearance of
+vigorous action that takes place in silence and of which the anatomical
+details are suppressed. Such is the action of Giorgione’s figures. They
+are plainly deeply interested in the scene of which they form part, but
+their faces (even in the Judgment of Solomon at Kingston Lacy) show
+their interest rather by the eyes than by the lips. They look, but do
+not speak. Like Greek Gods they act, but with terrible great silence.
+
+And so, too, though the bodies of his figures are full of life and
+action, yet they rarely show the tense and emphasised muscles
+appropriate to such action, but appear rather, having acted, to be now
+at rest. A similar peculiarity is to be observed in the draperies which,
+just as I have tried to show in regard to the figure of the Venus, are
+of the same nature as the best Greek work. They are completely motived,
+that is, by the bodies beneath them. They are a positive component part
+of the figure, not merely an accidental addition, and they rest and move
+with it. Thus, as the bodies seem to be resting after motion, so the
+draperies seem to be also. They show none of the little, trifling,
+momentary folds that express actual motion, but merely those larger,
+more essential lines and masses that are truly expressive of the
+vitality and movement of the figures, whose beauty they enhance, so far
+as such life and activity can be expressed by woven stuffs.
+
+Let us turn now to Catena, his Sta. Caterina, or his Virgin Enthroned,
+in Venice, and we see draperies that are in large measure as merely
+studio studies of cloth as any to which Albert Dürer ever attached hands
+and feet and a head and called it a human being. The folds do not carry
+out the action of the figure, but crinkle and ripple and break in
+meaningless profusion from shoulder to ankle. Giorgione was a richly
+imaginative, deeply thoughtful genius, and such a personality as this is
+indelibly stamped in the Epiphany, the Shepherd’s Offering, and the
+Benson Holy Family. Catena was a fashionable plagiarist and moderately
+successful imitator of the manner of his master Bellini and of his great
+contemporaries; such a character as his is completely foreign to the
+spirit of these three pictures.
+
+The Holy Family,[58] one of the many treasures of Mr. Benson’s
+collection, is also given by Berenson, and by others, to Catena. The
+Virgin and Joseph are, as one sees at first sight, the same figures as
+in the two preceding works. I will not unfold the argument again. The
+picture is to be attributed to Giorgione for the same reasons that show
+the two other pictures to be his. One proof may be added to those
+adduced before, and this is the pebbly surface of the ground. The same
+treatment is to be seen in the Judgment of Solomon, and the Trial of
+Moses, in the Uffizi, in the Three Philosophers, in the Giovanelli
+Landscape; and in this last picture the painting of the brick work below
+the column is the same as that of the building beside which the Holy
+Family are seated in Mr. Benson’s picture. Catena could as easily have
+painted Bellini’s Loredano as this head of St. Joseph, as fine a head in
+its grandeur of mould and simple earnestness of expression as was ever
+given to this too often maligned Saint. It is a Giorgione, and a fine
+one.
+
+The picture of Christ carrying the Cross in the Church of San Rocco in
+Venice is by Morelli[59] said to be “gewiss ein ganz frühes Werk” of
+Titian. Considering that he does not give a single proof of this
+assertion, we may be forgiven if we fail to see the _Gewissheit_ of the
+attribution. It is true that Vasari was not sure whether Giorgione or
+Titian was the author, but tradition, as can be traced by guide books,
+certainly leads us to consider the former as the author. The condition
+of the picture is such that it gives one no help in solving the problem,
+but so far as the drawing of details goes we meet no contradiction of
+the traditional authorship. The shape of the head of the Christ and the
+drawing of the eyes and brow are met with in the certain works. In
+believing this ruined picture to be by our master, I am following the
+opinion held by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, and in more recent days by
+Berenson.
+
+The difficulties that are met in trying to discover a decisive proof of
+the origin of the Knight of Malta are similar to those which confuse the
+argument about the ‘Christ’ of San Rocco. The picture has been so
+maltreated that there is little left to study but the shadow of the
+original. A magnificent original it must have been, one of those rare
+works, commoner in Venice than elsewhere, that truly make the corporal
+substance conform to the nature of the hidden soul, so that one thinks
+not so much of the person shown to us as of his manner of thought and
+life. There is much about the portrait that makes its attribution to any
+one but Giorgione next to impossible, and nothing, I believe, that
+throws any doubt in the way of our considering him the author. He was
+capable of such a portrait, and in its earlier days it was
+unquestionably worthy of him. This is, of course, the usual opinion,
+though Crowe and Cavalcaselle felt that the repainting had so altered
+the work as to destroy its character.
+
+The Head of Christ bearing the Cross, formerly in Vicenza, and now,
+fortunately for our country, in Boston, is another of the works the
+authorship of which cannot be absolutely proved, but of which the
+character is so marked that there is little or no diversity of opinion
+about it.[60] It is one of the pictures that Crowe and Cavalcaselle
+thought worthy of Giorgione, and which since their day Morelli and
+others have not hesitated to regard as his. Still strongly tinged with
+the influence of Bellini, it contains the promise of a freer, broader
+treatment of religious subjects than even Bellini had attained, and
+shows us unquestionably the young Giorgione. The hand and eye of Bellini
+guide him as he works, but his own genius cannot be utterly suppressed,
+and he adds to his master’s style something that marks the picture, when
+it leaves his easel, as the true expression of a great genius and not as
+that of a merely facile and unoriginal pupil (Plate LXVII).
+
+Closely connected with the Madonna of Castelfranco is the study for the
+figure of San Liberale in the National Gallery. It is true that such
+studies by the fifteenth-century Italian masters are extremely uncommon,
+but the differences between this study and the large picture are such as
+we can hardly imagine being introduced by a copyist, and the painting,
+considered solely from the technical point of view, is so masterly that
+we are, I believe, justified in considering the figure as the product of
+Giorgione’s brush.
+
+Of the six pictures (Pitti, Concert, and Nymph with Satyr; Louvre, Fête
+Champêtre, and Madonna and Saints; Hampton Court, Shepherd; Madrid,
+Madonna with Sta. Brigida) which, though traditionally ascribed to
+Giorgione, Crowe and Cavalcaselle refused to consider as his, the
+Madonna and Sta. Brigida and the Madonna and Saints in the Louvre are
+now less often thought of in connection with his name.[61]
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXVI.]
+
+Of the Madonna and Saints in the Louvre it is interesting to note that
+even a century ago there were those who judged the work at its true
+value. It is of this work, I believe, that J. B. P. Lebrun[62] says: (p.
+71) “Attribué au Giorgion. Un Concert de figures vues à mi-crops et de
+grandeur naturelle, très-mauvais ouvrage dans le genre de cette école,
+d’environ 4 pieds et demi de hauteur, sur 6 de largeur, sur toile. Je
+tairai ce qu’en dit Lalande. Vient de Milan, bibliothèque Ambrosienne.”
+
+Concerning the four other pictures there is considerable diversity of
+opinion. The Head of a Boy at Hampton Court is thought by Morelli to be
+an original Giorgione, but as the light was bad when he saw the work, he
+is not sure. Berenson, however, does not doubt the genuineness of the
+picture. Considering the fact that the head is a copy of the Vienna
+David, we may very seriously question whether it is by Giorgione. One
+can scarcely suppose that he would have repeated his pictures and made
+the head of his David answer for a Shepherd. Morelli was right in
+recognising the Giorgionesque spirit of the work, but it is only a copy
+of the head of the original David, with certain details altered.
+
+The Nymph and Satyr[63] in the Pitti, which used to be called a
+Giorgione and which Crowe and Cavalcaselle thought to be by some
+imitator of him and of Titian, bears now, I believe, the name of Dosso
+Dossi. Morelli considered it a youthful work of Giorgione, though it
+certainly shows few signs of youth, and the Giorgionesque details which
+he enumerates are exactly those which an imitator would easily acquire.
+The idea and the energetic freedom of composition are more like the work
+of men who came after Giorgione, and the colouring is unlike his. We
+have no reason to believe that he ever painted subjects embodying just
+such trivially sensual and commonplace ideas, and as there is no marked
+and characteristic likeness in the figures to any of his known works, it
+is safer to consider it the product of a would-be imitator, such as we
+know Dosso Dossi to have been.
+
+To decide the question of the Concert in the Pitti is by no means easy.
+Crowe and Cavalcaselle felt sure it could not be by Giorgione, or else
+that “he did not execute what we are fond of attributing to him,” for it
+seemed to them more advanced and to surpass his true works. Morelli,
+too, did not regard Giorgione as the author, but the youthful
+Titian,[64] and to this Berenson agrees. The interrelation of the
+complex sensations expressed in the deeply moved but quiet faces is
+certainly more like the work of the painter of the Two Loves than that
+of him of the Three Philosophers. The likeness, too, of the middle
+figure in the Concert to the Man with the Glove in the Louvre—a likeness
+found not only in the expression of the two heads, but also in the
+wonderfully wrought modelling of them—is most noticeable. How the same
+artist can have accomplished so dull and stupid a face as the one to the
+left is a question only to be answered by the vandals who have repainted
+and thereby ruined this very splendid work. It certainly does remind one
+of Giorgione, but so does the Two Loves. Titian we know well was, in his
+early days, much influenced by his fellow-worker, but we know also that
+he became the more accomplished artist of the two and attained a power
+of technique and of representation of facial expression beyond that of
+his too early dead contemporary. As just such an artist is shown us in
+the Concert, one can but agree with Morelli in regarding it as the work
+of Titian—as one of his finest, for he rarely reached such mastery of
+subtle expression as shown in the central figure.
+
+I come now to the discussion of a picture so well known that I feel
+scarcely justified in doing more than simply express my opinion of it,
+but the picture is so important that I must be excused for arguing about
+it in close detail. It is the Fête Champêtre in the Louvre; a picture
+which almost every one unhesitatingly attributes to Giorgione, but which
+I cannot believe to be by him and think can have been painted only some
+years after his death. As in regard to other true or false Giorgiones,
+the opinion held by Crowe and Cavalcaselle is worthy of more attention
+than later writers have seen fit to give it. What the former say about
+the picture is this:
+
+“We cannot say that Giorgione would not have painted such a scene; but,
+as far as we know, he would have treated it with more nobleness of
+sentiment, without defects of form or neglect of nature’s finenesses,
+without the pasty surface and sombre glow of tone which here is all
+pervading: he would have given more brightness and variety to his
+landscape.”
+
+They were surely not far wrong when they suggested some imitator of
+Sebastiano del Piombo as the painter. There is certainly a Giorgionesque
+quality in the scene, but that only means that the painter puts before
+our eyes the varied and mingled charms of green fields enlivened with
+the faint murmur of shepherds tending their distant flocks, of woods and
+rivers, and of strong men and lovely women making music beside a
+fountain overhung by trees. It used to be the fashion[65] to call every
+portrait of a dark-eyed man with long abundant locks by Giorgione’s
+name, and those who believed in such things also thought that he was the
+only painter of Fêtes Champêtres.
+
+We may freely concede that Giorgione did do much to introduce and
+skilfully display a class of subjects that had been little cared for
+until this day. But he was not the only artist to feel the charm of such
+scenes. Sedate Bellini himself showed in such a picture as the Bacchanal
+in Alnwick Castle that he too felt them, and rapidly they became more
+and more common. But in the earlier years of this development such
+scenes were generally given on a small scale or else were intended to
+illustrate, even though in many cases the clue is lost to us, some more
+distinct and concisely expressable idea than mere Arcadian life among
+the trees. It is not alone the emptiness of thought that forces us to
+decide upon some later author than Giorgione for this work. Forms of
+details, manner of design and method of painting, all are different from
+his certain works.
+
+The first thing that strikes the attention is that the soft, dull
+drawing of the figures, and the clumsy, baggy modelling of the women, is
+unlike anything found in any of the undoubted Giorgiones.[66] Compare
+the delicate shape and clear drawing of the figures in the Uffizi
+panels, or the Venus or the Gypsy, with these heavy, ill-proportioned,
+clumsily posed figures, and then say if you think Giorgione could have
+sunk so low. Or, if you will seek proof in fingers and toes, hands and
+feet, where in Giorgione’s work are such a shapeless leathery ear, so
+thick-lipped a mouth, so short-toed and thick a foot, or such spidery
+hands to be found? Nowhere. Look at the landscape. The trees are much
+more massy and less flat and feathery, their surface is more broken by
+flickering spots of light, they show, in fact, a more advanced stage in
+the rendering of the appearance of Nature, than is shown in Giorgione’s
+work.
+
+It is instructive to notice, too, the way that the grass is painted in
+the foreground, the thick mat of it, and the long bright blades and
+tufts. Giorgione never reached such realism as that, as you can see by
+the primitive way in which he seeks to render the effect in the picture
+of the Gypsy. Consider further the treatment of the sunlight as it
+floats over the hillsides and glows among the trees. In the Castelfranco
+Madonna, in the Three Philosophers, in the Gypsy, in the Beaumont
+Shepherd’s Offering, large, smooth, unbroken surfaces of light and
+shade, seeming almost more like some woven stuff than rough earth, are
+contrasted, but here all is broken, enriched perhaps, but less simple
+and less telling.
+
+In and out by the river and over the hill, Nature’s wrinkles are
+embossed by the soft light, and nowhere is there restful certainty of
+sun or shadow. In among the trees behind the shepherd, the hot, misty
+light that one sees only in the forest is radiant with summer colour and
+seems to murmur with the voice of the woods. Such effects were unknown
+to Giorgione, but they were not unknown to Titian, for he was the first
+great landscapist, and in the Vierge au Lapin and the other Virgin
+seated under the trees, which used to hang opposite in the Long Gallery
+of the Louvre, we see exactly these technical peculiarities and these
+effects of nature done with the sure stroke of the master. Not only has
+the author of the Fête Champêtre followed Titian in these ways, but his
+thick pasty colour is taken from him. Not a stroke of this picture
+displays original talent, there is not one that resembles Giorgione, not
+one that does not betray the skilful imitator of ideas and manner of
+other well-known men, chiefly of Titian.
+
+But to make assurance doubly sure, something remains to be pointed out
+that even if all the rest could be accommodated to what we know of
+Giorgione, would render it incredible that he should be the author.
+Morelli and others have noted the curious similarity between the two
+musicians and certain figures in one of Titian’s frescoes in Padua. One
+cannot say that Titian would not have taken hints from Giorgione, but he
+was scarcely the man to need any one’s suggestions, especially if it was
+in the shape of such commonplace figures as these. There are those,
+however, who think he did. But now let me add that the two women bear
+the most striking and unquestionable likeness to the two women in
+Tintoretto’s (?) Rescue in Dresden, though they have lost the purity of
+Tintoretto’s figures. Surely no one will maintain that this at best only
+fanciful and pretty, but in no way striking, Fête Champêtre was the
+source of inspiration to the two greatest Venetian painters in their
+days of prime and finished power? It is impossible. The idea must be
+given up, and though there is no denying the charm of the musicians
+under the trees, let us cast the scales from our eyes and recognise its
+complete dissimilarity to the work of the Master of Castelfranco, and
+that it is merely a perfectly charming _pasticcio_.
+
+I have now discussed the pictures spoken of by Crowe and Cavalcaselle,
+and there are left for us to consider those to which Morelli first drew
+marked attention. Such are the Madonna with Sts. Antony and Roch in
+Madrid, Daphne and Apollo in Venice, Three Ages of Man in the Uffizi,
+Birth of Paris and Portrait of a Man in Buda-Pesth, Portrait of a Woman
+in the Borghese Gallery, Portrait of a Youth in Berlin, Allegory in
+Dresden, and Judith in St. Petersburg. I have already spoken of the
+Venus, Nymph and Satyr, and the Shepherd at Hampton Court.
+
+The Madonna in Madrid has generally been called by the name of
+Pordenone, while Crowe and Cavalcaselle thought it by Francesco Vecelli.
+It is certainly not a Giorgione, but a mere _pasticcio_ like the Fête
+Champêtre. We cannot be blamed for asking some more decisive evidence of
+its Giorgionesque origin than Morelli gives before we agree with him. He
+satisfies himself with saying[67] “Doch ich muss gestehen, dass es für
+mich keine geringe Freude war, bei meinem Besuche von Madrid dieses
+Wunderwerk venetianischer Malerkunst sogleich als Schöpfung unsers
+Giorgione erkannt zu haben.”
+
+This, on the surface, is too rapid and absolute a statement to be
+admitted without question, and as there are excellent reasons why
+Giorgione could not have painted the work, we may confidently strike it
+from the list. The composition in the main is borrowed from the picture
+at Castelfranco. Giorgione was hardly the man to repeat his own works.
+The heavy, thick, coarse painting is absolutely different from
+Giorgione’s work. The clumsy draperies show none of his fine feeling.
+The thick-set figures of the Saints do not exhibit his elegance and
+refinement of form. The infant, more like a Hercules than a Christ, is
+quite unlike his poetic and dreamy-looking children. The manner in which
+the foot of St. Roch is raised is awkward and unmeaning, while the fat
+hands, thick ears and coarse features bear no resemblance to Giorgione’s
+work. The work is not only crude, it is unintelligent. The wall behind
+the Virgin cannot be explained, the chiaroscuro is harsh, the attitude
+of St. Anthony, turning as he does from the main group, is senseless,
+and the flowers are scattered about in a childish way. It is based on
+Giorgione’s work, but must have been painted by an inferior artist many
+years after his death.
+
+The Daphne and Apollo in Venice has been injured by repainting and by
+having lost the left-hand end, but one can easily see that it will take
+much more than a mere assertion by Morelli[68] to convince anyone that
+Giorgione painted it. Crowe and Cavalcaselle think the painter was
+probably Andrea Schiavoni. If it was not Schiavoni, it was someone of an
+almost precisely similar nature and talent. The generally loose drawing
+and painting remind one of him. The bad drawing and perspective, the
+proportions and shapes of the figures (note the chunky Apollo drawing
+his bow and the head of the woman in the middle distance), the clawlike
+hands and clumsy feet, and the stupid confusion of scale in which the
+figures are drawn, all show without any possibility of question, that
+neither Giorgione nor any other artist of the first rank painted the
+picture.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXVII.]
+
+There are in Padua two other cassone pictures representing the fables of
+Myrrha and of Erysichthon as told by Ovid in the “Metamorphoses” (VIII
+fab. 7 and X fab. 9). They are Giorgionesque in feeling, but are plainly
+derived from the woodcuts in the 1497 Venice edition of Ovid (Cf. Justi,
+_Giorgione_ p. 191 f). It is possible that these are two of the pictures
+referred to by Ridolfi (see above, No. 19).
+
+Of the Three Ages it is perhaps sufficient to say that Morelli’s
+attribution has not found general acceptance.
+
+The Allegory in Dresden in times gone by has been and by some still is
+considered, as Morelli thought, a copy of a work by Giorgione. There is,
+I believe, no real evidence in favour of this theory, which seems to me
+to depend solely on personal feeling.
+
+The Judith in St. Petersburg, where it goes by the name of Moretto,
+presents a more difficult problem. Morelli, though he seems to have had
+no doubt that Giorgione was the painter, was not sure whether the
+picture was a copy or not. That it is a copy is Berenson’s opinion.[69]
+The lack of modelling and the bad drawing of parts are the reasons why
+Berenson and others think it a copy, and Berenson finds a trace of
+copyist’s work in the fact that the head is better done than the rest of
+the figure. Personally, I do not recognise this superiority of the head,
+and considering the numerous faults which he points out, I do not
+understand his last sentence: “En somme, la _Judith_ de l’Ermitage me
+parait une bonne copie, mais après tout, ce n’est qu’une copie.” If one
+believes these numerous faults to be due to the copyist, I should say
+that they proved it to be a pretty poor copy. Study of the work itself
+will, however, convince anyone that it is not a copy, but the original
+picture, and the artist can be no other than Giorgione. The panel on
+which it was painted was originally broader on the right side.[70] The
+uncertain drawing is what one would expect to find in an early work. The
+drapery is not so simple as usual in its folds, and at first sight the
+way it is drawn aside, leaving one leg bare, seems affected. But when
+one thinks of the bleeding head on the ground, this action is seen to be
+natural and the contrast of nude and draped parts is of the same
+unexpected and original character as one sees in the woman of the
+Giovanelli picture.
+
+The fragment in Buda-Pesth which Morelli thought was part of the picture
+representing the Birth of Paris is, as Berenson points out in the
+article already referred to, only a copy, and a poor one at that. But
+even poor copies of lost Giorgiones are works to be carefully cherished.
+
+Morelli also thought he knew of three portraits by Giorgione. Of these
+three (the Woman in the Borghese, the Man in the Buda-Pesth Gallery, and
+the Youth in Berlin), the first two may be seriously questioned. To my
+eye the Borghese portrait is by no means so strikingly Giorgionesque as
+Morelli considered it. While it is true that a brow here and a mouth
+there can be found scattered among the figures in the true Giorgiones
+that resemble the features of this woman, the type of face shows little
+likeness to Giorgione’s work. Nor does the muddy colour indicate the
+palette of an artist of more than mediocre ability. Who will look at
+Giorgione’s masterpieces and then say he thinks the same artist produced
+two such shapeless hands holding such a formless swab of cloth? Have we
+any reason to think Giorgione had so poor an understanding of
+perspective as to be unable to draw correctly the line of the parting of
+the hair? Such sloping shoulders were never natural and the fashion of
+drawing them so is not characteristic of Giorgione’s work. Could not
+Giorgione paint better drapery, or would he ever have been satisfied
+with such a shoelace-like ribbon round the waist? Finally, were such
+gauze caps known in Giorgione’s day? It is the purest fancy that
+discovers a shadow of greatness in this dull work. Drawing, colour,
+design, all proclaim it the product of a commonplace artist. The work is
+unlike Giorgione’s in every particular except the shape of the brow.
+
+Morelli’s judgment about the portrait in Buda-Pesth is a perfectly sound
+one. It occurs only in the English translation and not in the original
+German.[71] “The picture,” he says, “has suffered much, and the master
+is not to be recognised in the technical qualities of the painting, but
+the whole feeling ... and the conception seem to point to Giorgione. The
+impression which it made upon me ten years ago was that of a thoroughly
+Giorgionesque work, but one executed by a later hand rather than by the
+master himself. Competent critics who have examined the picture in the
+meantime insist, however, that it is a true original by Giorgione. I
+must leave the final decision of the point to others.” Unfortunately it
+is next to impossible to arrive at final decisions in such matters. For
+one, I believe that Morelli’s idea, that the work was executed by a
+follower of Giorgione, is borne out by its main characteristics,
+particularly by the self-conscious pose of the head, and by the gesture
+of the hand—both much like what is found in portraits by the men of the
+generation after Giorgione.
+
+Then, too, the cold ashen colour is very unlike Giorgione’s palette, but
+I would not lay great weight on this fact as the picture has been much
+repainted. The picture is of further interest because it shows the
+fallacy of one of Morelli’s most firm statements. In the
+Introduction[72] to his chapters on the Borghese Gallery he says: “Ich
+erlaube mir bei dieser Gelegenheit sogar zu bemerken, dass die den
+_grossen Meistern_ eigenthümliche _Grundform_ der Hand und des Ohres
+nicht nur auf ihren Bildern, sondern selbst auf den von ihnen nach dem
+Leben gemalten Porträts sich vorfindet.” With these words in one’s mind
+one looks at the Buda-Pesth portrait and finds neither hand, ear, eye,
+nose or mouth exhibiting the _Grundform_ shown in the unquestioned
+pictures. Morelli was carried away by his theories in this point, for
+while every one will readily admit that many cases, especially among the
+works of the primitive and early masters, can be found to fit his rule,
+yet the numberless exceptions to this rule, particularly among the fully
+developed masters, make it quite plain that, at best, its application
+requires to be strictly limited.[73]
+
+The Portrait of a Youth at Berlin is the last of the Morellian
+Giorgiones to be studied. As was too often the case, Morelli speaks
+off-hand of this work as “ein glänzendes Porträt des Giorgione,” as
+though it was so manifestly by him that he was absolved from the labour
+of adducing proof; but the matter is not so simple. It is surely enough
+Giorgionesque, but do the details bear out the general impression so
+strongly as to make the attribution beyond all reasonable doubt? Not one
+of the master’s certain works shows a head like this. It is sharper and
+harder than anything of his except the Uffizi panels, but between these,
+sharp and hard as they seem to have been, and the Berlin portrait, there
+is an important and essential difference. The figures on the panels are
+not only hard, they are stiff; that is, they show one of the chief
+characteristics of youthful work.[74] If now the portrait be by
+Giorgione, it is self-evidently an early work. That is, there are among
+his undoubted works some that show vastly greater ease than this. But
+this portrait does not show any stiffness.
+
+The attitude is easy, and the painting, particularly of the drapery, is
+distinctly free, one might even say sketchy. The work shows, perhaps,
+not so much the characteristics of a young artist of great power as
+those of one who has attained some facility but not the complete and
+all-round ease of the greatest masters. Then what do the letters V. V.
+mean, painted on the shelf behind which the figure stands? Is it not
+possible they are the initial letters of the artist’s name? Can they
+stand for an as yet unknown imitator, another _Vincentius Venezianus_?
+As Morelli said of the Portrait in Buda-Pesth, “I must leave the final
+decision of the point to others”—others better qualified than myself.
+Whoever the artist, the picture is a splendid one, and may well be
+regarded as showing the Giorgione point of view in portraiture, which,
+however, is a very different matter from being a work by him.
+
+I have already had occasion to refer to an article by Berenson in the
+_Gazette des Beaux-Arts_ in which he speaks of pictures he considers as
+copies of lost Giorgiones. These are:
+
+        The David in Vienna.
+        The Judith in St. Petersburg.
+        The Birth of Paris in Buda-Pesth.
+        Orpheus and Eurydice, a cassone at Bergamo.
+        Portrait of a Man, formerly in the Doetsch collection.
+        Portrait of a Lady, belonging to Signor Crespi at Milan.
+
+Of the first three I have already spoken. To maintain his thesis about
+the Orpheus and Eurydice, Berenson mentions only vague sentiments such
+as “Qui donc, autre que lui, a su traduire, comme nous le voyons ici, un
+mythe grec dans l’esprit de la Renaissance?” We might reply that
+Bellini, Titian, Tintoret, to mention merely Venetians, all showed a
+rather marked ability to do this very thing, so it was not a personal
+peculiarity of Giorgione. “Qui donc, autre que lui, avait le don de
+fondre le paysage et les figures dans une aussi charmante harmonie?”
+Again the ability to do this was possessed by many artists, and so vague
+a phrase as _aussi charmante_ proves nothing whatever. Continuing, he
+finds many details which betray very certainly the work of Cariani (an
+undoubted imitator of Giorgione), and decides that the work is a copy by
+Cariani of a lost Giorgione. But when much is admittedly unlike
+Giorgione and everything suits Cariani, why not consider Cariani the
+artist? Apparently because “si nous étions nous-même des artistes très
+doués, nous pourrions remplacer chaque détail _carianesque_ par un
+détail _giorgionesque_, emprunté aux œuvres du maître les plus
+voisines.” This has no force. We might as well “remplacer chaque détail
+_carianesque_ par un détail _michelangelesque_,” and what would be shown
+thereby? Nothing.
+
+The reasons given for believing the Portrait from the Doetsch
+collection[75] to be a copy of a Giorgione are quite as vague and
+undefinable as those for the Orpheus and Eurydice. The consideration of
+details is no more convincing than the sentiments and fanciful writing
+that precede. “Si l’auteur de l’original en question n’était pas
+Giorgione, ce devrait être quelque imitateur servile du maître, comme
+Licinio ou Beccaruzzi. Mais ces peintres de second ordre ne pouvaient
+qu’imiter et non créer, et le portrait de la collection Doetsch est bien
+une création,” and yet he has just said that this portrait “est le même
+type que celui du jeune homme de Buda-Pesth,”—the picture mentioned by
+Morelli. Berenson’s definition of ‘création’ must differ from that
+ordinarily employed; and Licinio at his best was not so uncreative as
+Berenson would have us believe. He gives one, however, further surprises
+in asserting that this portrait agrees in all details with the one in
+Berlin! Not only the same head and brow, but “le même sentiment dans la
+bouche!”
+
+Even were this all so, and I cannot see that it is in the least, what
+would be proved? To compare one doubtful work to another of a similar
+nature does not, as I have said above, prove the authorship of either.
+Furthermore, though one can find strong likenesses to the Berlin head in
+the true works by Giorgione, in these same works one cannot find any
+likeness whatever to the Doetsch portrait. To compare this
+overemphasised portrait, this person who seems half brigand and half
+Shylock, to the sad, poetical-looking man at Buda-Pesth, or to the
+clean, vigorous, manly youth in Berlin, is going pretty far, and the
+limit is plainly over-stepped in the endeavour to attach to the picture
+a value it does not possess by giving to it the name of one of the
+greatest artists.
+
+For the painter of the Crespi Portrait of a Lady we shall do better to
+look in the direction of Titian than Giorgione. The owner, Signor
+Crespi, believes, according to Berenson, that Titian was the author, and
+certainly the likeness which the figure bears to other women by Titian,
+and the initials T. V. make it difficult to admit any other origin.
+Neither ecstasies nor comparisons serve to show any likeness to
+Giorgione’s work.
+
+Of all the portraits attributed to Giorgione the finest by far is the
+one owned by the Hon. Edward Wood of Temple Newsam. Attention was first
+drawn to this by Cook and his attribution has been accepted by every
+one. It is a masterpiece of the greatest beauty (Plate LXVIII).
+
+We have now reviewed the most important criticisms that have been passed
+on Giorgione’s work; and though it is only too evident that as yet there
+is no really sound common standard by which to govern our judgments, we
+can come very near to forming one if we accept the more sober part of
+the work of these criticisms and disregard their more extravagant and
+hypothetical attributions.[76] The following list, I venture to think,
+embraces works differing much less among themselves in regard to style
+than the lists of the critics that I have discussed.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXVIII.]
+
+     1. Vienna—David (copy).
+
+     2. Venice—Fondaco dei Tedeschi (fragment still visible, but compare
+       Zanetti’s engraving).
+
+     3. Venice—Chiesa di San Rocco, Christ carrying the Cross (much
+       damaged).
+
+     4. Venice, Giovanelli Palace, Soldier and Woman, known as The
+       Tempest.
+
+     5. Castelfranco, Madonna Enthroned.
+
+     6. Dresden, Venus.
+
+     7. Kingston Lacy, Judgment of Solomon (unfinished).
+
+     8. Vienna, Three Philosophers.
+
+     9. Buda-Pesth, Birth of Paris (fragment of a copy).
+
+     10. Florence, Uffizi, Judgment of Solomon.
+
+     11. Florence, Uffizi, Fire-test of Moses.
+
+     12. Florence, Uffizi, Knight of Malta.
+
+     13. Boston, Mass., Mrs. Gardner’s Collection (formerly Vicenza),
+       Head of Christ.
+
+     14. London, National Gallery, Study for the San Liberale of the
+       Castelfranco picture.
+
+     15. London, National Gallery, Epiphany.
+
+     16. London, Mr. Benson, Holy Family.
+
+     17. London, Lord Allandale, Shepherd’s Offering.
+
+     18. Temple Newsam, Hon. Mr. Wood. Portrait of a Man.
+
+     19. St. Petersburg, Judith.
+
+     20. Berlin, Portrait of a Youth (?).
+
+Excluding the last one as being open to doubt, nineteen pictures, two
+probably copies, remain as our heritage of this most noble painter’s
+work. With these nineteen in our mind, it becomes more evident than ever
+why such works as the Louvre Concert, the Borghese Lady, or the Doetsch
+Man are not to be thought of in connection with Giorgione’s name.
+
+There yet remains something more to be said of Giorgione. I think that
+there are still some pictures to be added to this list. The first to
+which I desire to call attention is the so-called Gypsy Madonna in
+Vienna. This picture is spoken of by every one as a Titian, but the
+longer I study it the more strong becomes my conviction that Giorgione
+was the artist; that it is one of his early works; that it is one of the
+“many pictures of the Virgin” of which Vasari speaks. The Giorgione
+spirit seems to me to underlie the whole feeling just as the Giorgione
+technique underlies the completed performance, that is, wherever the
+repainting allows it to be seen (Plate LXIX).
+
+Evidently, from the lack of decision of the drawing, the coarse
+modelling of the drapery, and the heavy, undetailed landscape the
+picture is an early work of the master, be he Titian or Giorgione. To my
+mind the likeness between this and unquestioned early Titians is a
+superficial one. This picture shows none of the ease that is a
+characteristic of even his early works, nor does it exhibit any of the
+dramatic quality, expressed either by the actions or in the faces of the
+figures, that is another most noticeable feature of his work. If, on the
+other hand, one seeks for similarities to Giorgione’s work, they are
+most readily found. Details and style coincide closely with his
+pictures. The shape of the Virgin’s head and the manner in which the
+hair is drawn over the brow are nearly identical with what one sees in
+the Uffizi panels or the Castelfranco picture. The sharply marked
+eyelids, the richly modelled mouth and long nose, are strongly
+resemblant to the same features in the Castelfranco Madonna, the
+Giovanelli Gypsy, the Uffizi panels, and the Knight of Malta.
+
+[Illustration: PLATE LXIX.]
+
+Notice, too, the large hand, the feet of the child with the strongly
+developed toes which are just what one finds in Giorgione’s works. So,
+also, the landscape with its plumelike trees, and the slim figure seated
+on the grass is such as one finds in many of his works, but not so often
+in those of Titian. Finally, and of more importance than separate
+details, is the fact that the peaceful spirit of the group, the
+undramatic, unTitianesque quality, is exactly what is most
+characteristic of Giorgione. Titian, when he painted the Christ Child,
+even in his earliest days, painted a figure more representing the infant
+Hercules than the Salvator Mundi. Invariably, He leaps about in his
+Mother’s arms, and though the small chubby face may be keenly
+intelligent, there is hardly ever a suggestion of the imaginative powers
+and prophetic instinct of the Reformer. It is here that Giorgione shows
+his very exceptional genius, for he was able to depict a purely human
+man child in such wise that were the figures cut from his canvases, no
+one could mistake them for mere ordinary offspring.
+
+Giorgione used none of the affected graces or sentimentalities of
+Raphael, nor did he depend upon such weirdness as Leonardo chose; as a
+result, his figures are as much more satisfying to the inquiring
+intellect as a living fountain is compared with the mirage of the
+desert. His means are simple. There is no exaggeration of action, as in
+the Titian Child, but all is essentially delicate and infantine. There
+is no exaggeration of expression, but a slightly dreamy, far-away look
+as of powers still unwakened, and one feels, as before no other
+representations of the Child, that such as He might attain to even
+Calvary. Taken in connection with the agreement of the details, this
+spiritual similarity of the work to others that we know are by Giorgione
+must give him pause who should think to name Titian as the author.[77]
+
+Another picture which, I believe, deserves more attention than has yet
+been given it hangs, under the name of Giovanni Bellini, in the _Museo
+Correr_ in Venice. The picture represents the dead Christ, seated on the
+edge of the tomb, upheld by three angels. In the background is a
+landscape, with a church on the right. It is painted on a panel about
+four feet high. The Anonimo Morelli says that in the year 1530 in the
+house of Gabriel Vendramin: “El Cristo morto sopra el sepolcro, con
+l’Anzolo che el sostenta, fu de man de Zorzi da Castelfranco, reconzato
+da Tiziano.” The picture in the Correr Museum represents this same
+scene, but there are three angels instead of one. This difference
+between the picture and the description need not make us hesitate to
+consider the question whether Giorgione was the author of the work, if
+there are other reasons to render such authorship possible.
+
+Any one, however, who has used early books such as the Anonimo knows how
+very inaccurate the authors often were and any one who has studied
+Italian painting knows that to represent the dead Christ held by only
+one angel is entirely contrary to precedent and practice. The present
+condition of the work is such that it is impossible to say whether it
+was ever _raconzato da Tiziano_ or not. It is a mere wreck. That there
+are distinct resemblances to Bellini’s work is not to be denied, but, if
+I mistake not, there exist even stronger ones to that of Giorgione. A
+slight stiffness in drawing, a certain archaism in drapery, is just what
+one would expect to find in the work of Bellini’s pupil. In the
+modelling and action of the figures, however, there are evidences of an
+attempt at freedom of design such as are rare in Bellini’s work. Four
+works of Bellini occur at once as criteria for judging the quality of
+the one under discussion—the Pietà in the Brera, one in the Mond
+collection in London, one in Rimini, and one in the Berlin Gallery.[78]
+None of these show the slender, rather unmodelled hands of the Correr
+picture; none presents so vivid a picture of Death. In none except the
+one at Rimini are the secondary figures really supporting the
+Christ,—the body does not show, as in the Correr picture, the relaxation
+of death, and in the Rimini picture the angels are much more playfully
+treated than in the Correr panel. The Bellini pictures are deeply
+touching, but to me there seems an even nobler and more moving sentiment
+in the work which I fain would attribute to Giorgione, and it is just
+such a sentiment as the painter of the Vicenza Christ might have
+suggested.
+
+The heads of the figures of the dead Christ in the works of Bellini are
+without exception represented as _asleep_. In the Correr picture one
+sees more than sleep in the closed eyes and drawn mouth of the Saviour.
+There is death—but death, the tragedy, so combined with a yearning,
+soul-compelling sadness, that the face can never be forgotten by whoso
+once has seen it, and this is spiritual life. Scarcely any other artist
+ever equalled Giorgione, and none certainly ever surpassed him, in the
+power of representing the members of the Holy Family. There are many
+fine presentations of Christ bearing the Cross, but none so imaginative
+as the Vicenza picture. For there we see in the sensitive face, the
+direct eye, and steady earnest mouth, the signs of completed power over
+self, while in the tear drop that sparkles on the cheek is the sign of
+suffering that broke the body, whose soul it could not quell—for neither
+brow nor eye are those of one who weeps. The Correr painting contains a
+similar double suggestion. Two details there are also which bear out the
+idea that Giorgione is the author. One is the technique which so far as
+can be seen is of the rich, smooth, carefully shaded kind, peculiar to
+Giorgione’s work. The other is the landscape in which the low horizon
+line and the plumy trees correspond closely to his certain works. Wreck
+though it be, and possibly only a copy of the original, it is worth
+study by students.[79]
+
+A smaller, but fortunately much more perfectly preserved, work hangs in
+the London Gallery under the name of School of Giorgione. It represents
+a bearded man on a throne and other figures in an open landscape.
+Whoever, unafraid of finding something unexpected, looks at this picture
+with critical eye, will, I think, realise that it is not a school work,
+but by the master himself. It is very carefully wrought in design and
+execution, as a youthful work would be likely to be, and as the two
+Florence panels are. The rich clear colours and the bright sunshine
+spread over the scene, are such as are found in the Florence panels, the
+Kingston Lacy picture, those in Vienna, and the Virgin of Castelfranco.
+The landscape is typically Giorgionesque, closed in as it is in the
+foreground, and opening into a middle distance of rich meadows,
+enlivened here and there with tall steep-roofed houses. The rich detail
+and broad chiaroscuro find their counterpart over and over again in
+Giorgione’s work; and finally, who but Giorgione ever presented to our
+delighted eyes a scene so simple, so dreamlike, so poetic, so defined,
+and yet so difficult to understand? It is a dream picture, rendered with
+the utmost clearness of vision. It is only the masters who can do
+this—only Giorgione and Keats and such rare spirits who can put in terms
+for the ordinary plodding mortal to grasp, the evanescent visions of the
+mind.
+
+Of very different character is the portrait of a youth in a large hat in
+the Vienna Gallery. Crowe and Cavalcaselle attribute this to Morto da
+Feltre. It was impossible for me to see the original when I was in
+Vienna, but study of an excellent photograph makes me doubt this
+attribution. If I mistake not, the picture might be a copy of a portrait
+by Giorgione. The treatment of the landscape is sufficient to show that
+Giorgione’s hand did not touch the work itself, but scarcely any other
+than Giorgione can have originated this grave sweet face with the steady
+eyes.
+
+To close this necessarily unsatisfactory part of my subject, there is
+the etching by H. van der Borcht which quite possibly is copied from a
+lost Giorgione. It represents a woman seated upon a dead warrior, and
+below the figures are the words _Giorgione inv_.[80] It seems not
+unlikely that it preserves for us one of the frescoes long since faded
+from some palace wall in Venice. It is but the echo of a voice that is
+still, but even as such it means much.
+
+If now my arguments, in the foregoing discussion, are based upon sound
+reason rather than upon theory, it results that the following are the
+works by which we must judge Giorgione’s genius, and that these must
+serve as a standard for further study of his work:
+
+     1. Vienna, David (copy).
+
+     2. Vienna, Three Philosophers.
+
+     3. Vienna, Gypsy Madonna.
+
+     4. Vienna, Portrait of a Youth (copy?).
+
+     5. Venice, Fondaco dei Tedeschi. (The engravings can be used in
+       giving suggestions of Giorgione’s methods of composition.)
+
+     6. Venice, Chiesa di San Rocco, Christ carrying the Cross.
+
+     7. Venice, Giovanelli Palace, Soldier and Woman.
+
+     8. Venice, Correr Museum, Pietà (copy?).
+
+     9. Castelfranco, Madonna Enthroned.
+
+     10. Dresden, Venus.
+
+     11. Kingston Lacy, Judgment of Solomon.
+
+     12. Buda Pesth, Birth of Paris (copy).
+
+     13. Florence, Uffizi, Judgment of Solomon.
+
+     14. Florence, Uffizi, Fire-test of Moses.
+
+     15. Florence, Uffizi, Knight of Malta.
+
+     16. Boston, Mrs. Gardner, Head of Christ.
+
+     17. London, National Gallery, Study for figure of San Liberale.
+
+     18. London, National Gallery, Epiphany.
+
+     19. London, National Gallery, David and Solomon.
+
+     20. London, Mr. Beaumont (Lord Allandale), Shepherd’s Offering.
+
+     21. London, Mr. Benson, Holy Family.
+
+     22. St. Petersburg, Hermitage, Judith.
+
+At first sight it may seem that there is more variety of style in these
+pictures than the works of any one artist would show, especially one who
+died young. There are, however, certain general considerations to be
+clearly remembered. Giorgione was born and grew up in a time of great
+discovery, when long-established thoughts and habits were rapidly
+changing, so that we should commit a serious error were we to expect him
+to paint the same subjects, or in the same manner, as his predecessors.
+His works would necessarily be different from theirs. He would naturally
+show greater variety and, owing to his youth, his style would not have
+become fixed. What is certain is that his contemporaries regarded him
+with the greatest admiration, so the best way to fit ourselves to judge
+him is to study the life of Venice in his day.
+
+It is not much that is left us of the great man’s life work, but it
+suffices to show what he was, not only as a painter, but as a man; and
+why his influence was so great on his contemporaries, and why so long as
+the human heart stays young his spirit will continue to call loudly to
+it. That he was a perfect colourist, that is to say, that he understood
+how to juxtapose the rich oriental colours of the Venetian palette in
+such wise that each tint emphasised the effect of all the others, or
+that as a draughtsman he could adequately portray the images in his
+brain, does not explain the effect he has on those who care for him.
+These are merely technical qualities that are not difficult to acquire,
+and that many a man has possessed.
+
+It is the spirit of Giorgione’s work that makes him what he is. He spoke
+in the simplest, broadest way to the deeper side of our nature. Not so
+imbued with the ceremonies of religion as his master Bellini, nor so
+given over to the full-blooded joy in the beauties of this world as his
+comrade Titian, he recognised that fanaticism or sensuality are equally
+spiritual death, and that the whole and perfect soul must be tempered in
+the fires of the heart, and cooled in the breezes of Nature. No such
+loveable Madonna had been painted as she of Castelfranco,—no purer
+presentation exists of the compelling beauty of the human figure than
+his Venus. Unabashed “he held both hands before the fire of life,” not
+warming first one and then the other, but with true poetic feeling
+combining every beauty that he perceived in one harmonious song.
+
+Always steadily reaching for the same goal, this even-poised master did
+not one day paint such exalted figures as Bellini’s Virgin and Companion
+Saints in the Frari, and on another such heathen festivities as the same
+master’s Bacchanal. But, as he loved music and pleasant company and such
+pleasantnesses of life, so in his painting he shows us grace and harmony
+and good breeding. And as these things are hard to find in our daily
+course and harder still to fix long enough to paint their semblance, he
+fashioned for himself a world, an Arcadia, where men and women,
+surrounded by beautiful Nature, lived together, enjoying a life where
+there was both work and play. In all temperate reason they employ their
+energies now on problems of deep thought, and now in the satisfaction of
+health and natural bodily enjoyment, and it is just because of the
+reasonableness of this balance of mind and body that his pictures seem
+poetic, dreamlike and difficult to explain. As Keats, more than any
+scientist or idle dreamer, tells how the nightingale entrances the soul,
+so Giorgione depicts the Virgin and her Child guarded by attendant
+Saints, or adored by kings and slaves, with greater persuasiveness than
+any theologian. But he does this neither as one diverted only by the
+pageantry, nor as an historian. Endowed with a poet’s instinct, he saw
+the deeper meaning of the scene and depicted those parts that truly
+illustrate it.
+
+Other artists there have been endowed with this same instinct, but their
+works do not obtain from us of to-day as full response as from our
+forefathers who lived when they were painted, and this because they do
+not give visual form to matters of lasting import, but to those fleeting
+affairs that constitute fashion. This is not so of Giorgione. The glory
+of his work will never fade, for his appeal is to the spirit of
+youth—that spirit which is compounded of a pure and natural love in all
+things beautiful, be they physical or spiritual, natural or divine, and
+with energy sufficient to urge it forward to the acquisition of, and the
+becoming part of, each and all of these various perfections. Such was
+Giorgione: neither utterly pagan, nor completely christian, but
+absolutely human in the finest sense, in that his perceptions were clear
+enough to see the special value of all things beautiful and his
+technical powers adequate to give due expression to that which he
+perceived.
+
+
+
+
+                                 INDEX
+
+
+ Alexander, portraits of, 82
+
+ allegory of Time and Truth, 13
+
+ archæological study of art, 3, 4
+
+ art as an index of life, 4, 57, 97, 133, 147
+   function of, 128
+
+ Athena, head of, from Cyrene, 135 f.
+   date of, 142
+   local work, 149
+
+
+ beauty, Greek love of, 76
+
+ Bellini and Giorgione, 173, 181
+
+ Bellini, Bacchanal, 190
+
+ Berenson, 154, 157, 171, 172
+
+ Bernini, an estimate of, 3 f.
+   architectural work, 40 f.
+   classes of his work, 14
+   clay models, 21, 44 f.
+   contemporary honour for, 6
+   designs for piazza of St. Peter’s, 50 f.
+   early life of, 15
+   estimate and characterization of, 42
+   expression of religion, 22
+   influence of, 23
+   multiplicity of sketches, 19
+   originality of, 20
+   portraits of, 10 f.
+   sculptor’s models, 21 f., 44 f.
+     list of, 46
+   technique of, 18 f.
+   versatility, 40
+
+ Bernini, works of,
+   Æneas and Anchises, 16
+   angels, used in architecture, 23 f.
+   Apollo and Daphne, 7, 17
+   Baldacchino in St. Peter’s, 33
+   Beata Albertona, 32
+   Cattedra in St. Peter’s, 33
+   Daniel in the lions’ den, 29
+   David, 16
+   fountains, 14, 34
+   Habakkuk, 26
+   Maria di Magdala, 32, 49
+   portraits, 14, 35
+     Bishop Santoni, 37
+     Costanza Buonavelli, 37
+     Francis I, 39
+     Louis XIV, 39
+     Mons. Francesco Barberini, 39
+     Mons. Montoya, 37
+     Paul V, 38
+   Proserpina, 17
+   saints, 25
+   Santa Bibiana, 26
+   St. Jerome, 27, 47
+   Saint Theresa, 30, 48
+   Truth, 13
+
+ Borghese pope, patronage of, 15
+
+ Borghese warrior, 17
+
+ Botticelli, 112, 156
+   Virgin and child in Boston, 157
+
+ Brandegee Collection, 21, 41, 45, 51, 85
+
+ Browning, 69
+
+ Brunn, H., 138
+
+ Bupalos and Athenis, 77
+
+
+ Carracci, 3
+
+ Cariani and Giorgione, 160, 166
+
+ Catena and Giorgione, 177
+   draperies of, 183
+   St. Jerome (National Gallery), 178
+   Knight adoring Infant Christ, 178, 182
+
+ Corbulo, portrait of, 57, 88
+
+ Cyrene, sculpture of, 136 f.
+
+
+ Dante, Greek spirit in, 113
+
+ Demetrius of Alopeke, 84
+
+
+ Egyptian portraiture, 60
+   sculpture, 61, 140
+
+ emotion controlled in Greece, 103
+
+ evolution of art, 4
+
+ Farnese Hercules, 123
+
+ Florentine portraits, 90
+
+ Furtwaengler, A., 138
+
+ Futurists, 140
+
+
+ Ghirlandaio, 112
+
+ Giorgione, 155 f.
+   draperies of, 183
+   life, 159
+   list of works, 203, 210
+     Anonimo Morelli, 163
+     Barri, 164
+     Berenson, 171
+     Crowe and Cavalcaselle, 168
+     Morelli, 169
+     Ridolfi, 161
+     Vasari, 159
+   paintings attributed to, 155 f.
+   romantic quality of, 181
+   spirit of his work, 211
+   the true Giorgione, 172 f.
+   treatment of landscape, 191
+
+ Giorgione, works of,
+   Birth of Paris (copy, Buda-Pesth), 196
+   Christ carrying the Cross (San Rocco, Vienna), 184
+   David and Solomon (National Gallery), 208
+   Epiphany (National Gallery), 175
+   Gypsy Madonna (Vienna), 204
+   Head of Christ (Gardner Collection, Boston), 185
+   Holy Family (Benson), 183 f.
+   Judgment of Solomon (Kingston Lacy), 172 f., 182
+   Knight of Malta (Uffizi), 58, 185
+   Madonna Enthroned (Castelfranco), 181
+   Pietà (Venice), 206
+   Portrait (Temple Newsam), 202
+   Portrait (Vienna), 209
+   San Liberale (National Gallery), 186
+   Shepherd’s Offering (Lord Allandale), 180 f.
+   The Tempest (Venice), 181
+   Three Philosophers (Vienna), 181
+   Venus (Dresden), 174, 181
+
+ Giorgione, works attributed to,
+   Allegory (Dresden), 195
+   Cassone pictures (Padua), 195
+   Concert (Pitti), 188
+   Daphne and Apollo (Venice), 194
+   Fête Champêtre (Louvre), 189
+   Head of Boy (Hampton Court), 187
+   Judith (St. Petersburg), 195
+   Madonna (Madrid), 193
+   Madonna and Saints (Louvre), 187
+   Nymph and Satyr (Pitti), 187
+   Orpheus and Eurydice (Bergamo), 200
+   Portrait (Berlin), 198
+   Portrait (Borghese), 196
+   Portrait (Buda-Pesth), 197
+   Portrait (from Crespi Collection), 202
+   Portrait (from Doetsch Collection), 201
+
+ Guido, 3
+
+
+ hair as a means of dating sculpture, 144
+
+ Hipponax, caricature of, 77
+
+ humanity of the Greek gods, 150
+
+
+ Kresilas, portrait of Pericles, 58, 75, 78 f.
+
+
+ Laocoon, 123
+
+ Laws of sculpture, 7
+
+ Leonardo, 140, 158
+
+ logical reasoning about pictures, 176
+
+ Longinus, 46
+
+ Lowell on Lincoln, 69
+
+ lucidity of Greek sculpture, 140
+
+ Lysippus, portraits of Alexander, 82
+
+
+ “Massacre of the Innocents,” 73
+
+ materials for sculpture, 145
+
+ Michael Angelo and Bernini, 16
+
+ Michael Angelo, 97 f.
+   affectation of the period, 119, 120
+   complexity of his work, 101, 103
+   feeling for the nude figure, 101
+   muscles emphasized, 120, 123
+   period of, 98, 103, 111
+   pupils of, 122
+   sonnets and letters, 115
+
+ Michael Angelo, works of,
+   Bacchus, 116 f.
+   Battle of the Centaurs, 133
+   David, 133
+   Eros, 116, 118, 120
+   Madonna of Bruges, 116, 131
+   Moses, 100, 102
+   Night and Dawn, 122
+   Pietà in St. Peter’s, 100
+   Sistine Chapel, 121, 125 f., 132
+   Victor, 116
+
+ Morelli on Giorgione, 155 f.
+
+ Mourning Athena, 148
+
+ Myron’s Discobolus, 17
+
+ mystical fervour in art, 3
+
+
+ Niobid group, 73
+
+ nude figure felt under drapery, 101 f.
+
+
+ Oberammergau, 31
+
+ origins of art, 3
+
+
+ Pausanias, 138
+
+ Pericles, portrait of, 58, 75, 78 f.
+
+ Pheidias and Michael Angelo, 93 f.
+
+ Pheidias, age of, 105, 109
+   and Pericles, 110
+   influence of, 94 f.
+
+ Pheidias, work of,
+   Athena Parthenos, 131
+   Lemnian Athena, 101, 131
+   Parthenon, 3, 132
+     frieze, 118
+     pediments, 101, 121
+   Zeus, 108
+
+ photography and art criticism, 155
+
+ physical beauty prized by Greeks, 151
+
+ portraits of women and children, 89
+
+ portraits made for friends, 65
+
+ portraiture, art of, 57 f.
+   commemorative, 60, 64
+   Egyptian, 60
+   Florentine, 90
+   Greek and Roman, 85
+   in language, 66
+   in large compositions, 62
+   in painting and sculpture, 59, 71, 74
+   motives for, 59
+   religious, 59
+   summary, 91
+
+
+ Raphael, Angelo Doni, 58
+
+ realism, in sculpture, 75
+
+ realism, Greek and Roman, 75
+
+ religion and art, 104, 106
+
+ Roselli, 156
+
+ Roman art, 4
+
+ Ruskin, 156
+
+
+ Scipio, so-called bust of, 57
+
+ Sheik-el-Beled, 57
+
+ Shelley, 66, 68
+
+ Silanion, 83
+
+
+ technical peculiarities in paintings, 157 f.
+
+ temple, significance of the Greek, 106
+
+ Tintoretto, Greek spirit of, 113
+
+ Titian, Duke of Norfolk, 58
+
+ Triton, 47
+
+ “Truth unveiled by Time,” 13
+
+ Turner’s Rizpah, 67
+
+
+ violence in art, 8
+
+
+ wealth and art, 64, 91
+
+
+ youth in Greek art, 111
+
+-----
+
+Footnote 1:
+
+  Filippo Baldinucci Fiorentino. _Vita del cavaliere Gio. Lorenzo
+  Bernini._ Firenze. 1682.
+
+  Domenico Bernino. _Vita del cavaliere Gio. Lorenzo Bernino._ Roma.
+  1713.
+
+  Stanislao Fraschetti. _Il Bernini._ Milan. 1900.
+
+Footnote 2:
+
+  Fraschetti, _op. cit._, p. 47.
+
+Footnote 3:
+
+  Fraschetti, _op. cit._, pp. 425, 426.
+
+Footnote 4:
+
+  Fraschetti, _op. cit._, p. 428.
+
+Footnote 5:
+
+  This portrait (Fraschetti, _op. cit._, p. 434) is probably a copy of
+  one owned by Baron Geymüller in London.
+
+Footnote 6:
+
+  Fraschetti, _op. cit._, p. 429.
+
+Footnote 7:
+
+  In the Museum at Weimar is a portrait on which is written that it was
+  done by Bernini himself, and as an _autoritratto_ it has been
+  published by Fraschetti (p. 433). It is a wretched performance, done
+  not by Bernini, but by someone who had neither an observant eye nor a
+  well-trained hand.
+
+  There is still another portrait which I think is very probably of him.
+  It hangs in the Capitoline Gallery in Rome (Plate II), where it is
+  called “Portrait of Velasquez, by himself,” an attribution which no
+  student of Velasquez would maintain to-day. The shape of the head and
+  face and the expression are extremely like Bernini. Even the different
+  shape and angle of the two eyebrows is the same as in his portraits.
+  The quality of the hair is the same, and the way it grows over the
+  temples. In the earlier portraits of him the hair is parted on the
+  right side as in the Capitoline picture. The nose is very nearly the
+  same as in the pencil portraits by himself in the National Gallery in
+  Rome and in the Chigi collection.
+
+Footnote 8:
+
+  The Borghese Warrior was found at Anzio at the beginning of the
+  seventeenth century. See Friederichs-Wolters, _Gipsabgüsse_, 1885, p.
+  541 f; Vulpius, _Vetus Latium_, 1726, Vol. III, p. 28.
+
+Footnote 9:
+
+  It is not improbable that the statue of St. Lawrence, in the Strozzi
+  palace in Florence, which Bernini made at this time, was influenced by
+  the Dying Gaul. The two statues resemble each other closely in many
+  ways. There is a tradition that Michael Angelo restored certain small
+  portions of the Gaul, but the character of the work of the
+  restorations suggests Bernini rather than Michael Angelo.
+
+Footnote 10:
+
+  In Brookline, Mass.; see p. 44 and Plates XI-XXVII.
+
+Footnote 11:
+
+  The head reminds one of the Capitoline Alexander, which Bernini may
+  have seen.
+
+Footnote 12:
+
+  Balcarres, _The Evolution of Italian Sculpture_, p. 333–334.
+
+Footnote 13:
+
+  Balcarres, _op. cit._, p. 334.
+
+Footnote 14:
+
+  In relation to the influence of ancient work on Bernini, it is worth
+  note that the four great figures in the Piazza Navona are very
+  Hellenistic in character and would, if turned into reliefs with their
+  surrounding trees and animals, resemble closely the fountain-reliefs
+  of the Græco-Roman world.
+
+Footnote 15:
+
+  The one of Paul V is in the Villa Borghese, Rome; the other two are in
+  the National Gallery, Venice.
+
+Footnote 16:
+
+  In the Brandegee Collection. It was published by Signor Busiri-Vici in
+  his work _La Piazza Vaticana_, Rome, 1890, and by Fraschetti, _op.
+  cit._, p. 307. The latter gives reduced and poor reproductions of the
+  drawings. We have thought it worth while therefore to reproduce them
+  on a larger scale; see Part III of this Study.
+
+Footnote 17:
+
+  In San Lorenzo in Lucina, Rome.
+
+Footnote 18:
+
+  They were exhibited in Rome by the then owner Sig. Andrea Busiri-Vici
+  at the Bernini Exposition in 1879 and are spoken of and reproduced in
+  small form by Fraschetti in his book on Bernini.
+
+Footnote 19:
+
+  And these bonds are dependent, I believe, on fundamental laws of
+  sculpture and painting.
+
+Footnote 20:
+
+  It is true that wood was sometimes made use of, but for serious work
+  only in the early times before the art had been developed. Nor can it
+  be supposed that the lack of marble in Egypt was the effective cause
+  that led to the use of granites and basalts. The Egyptians were
+  energetic traders and might have obtained marble had they desired it,
+  but the fact is they preferred the harder sorts of stone, though
+  alabaster was sometimes used.
+
+Footnote 21:
+
+  That there may be no misunderstanding of the terms employed, I will
+  say that by breadth of treatment I mean that the sculptor or painter
+  leaves the various surfaces of the object reproduced by him in large
+  measure unbroken by small lights and shades which, however true to
+  nature, are apt in art to distract the attention from the general
+  effect. Though small differences are disregarded there may be, as
+  Greek work shows, exquisite modulation of surface.
+
+Footnote 22:
+
+  I refer of course to statues in the round. The bas-reliefs show much
+  free action due partly to the technique, partly to their being in
+  softer stone and partly to the fact that the figures in them are
+  illustrations to historic chronicles and not primarily portraits. So
+  too figures and groups in wood, faience or metal are freer.
+
+Footnote 23:
+
+  The bas-relief of the potter in the Acropolis Museum in Athens belongs
+  to this class.
+
+Footnote 24:
+
+  Though no woman has ever reached the highest rank in any art, her
+  influence has been enormous. It is a subject to be studied by itself,
+  but it must be constantly kept in mind that no people who have
+  regarded woman from any but the highest point of view has ever
+  produced the noblest art. It may be a fallacy to regard her so, but it
+  is the most powerful and helpful ideal the western mind has yet
+  conceived.
+
+Footnote 25:
+
+  When kept to its true course, the magnificent effects attained by
+  language in perpetuating landscape are splendidly seen in Ruskin,
+  when, for example, he describes the Roman Campagna (Preface to 2d ed.,
+  _Modern Painters_) or Verona (_Joy Forever_, sec. 76 ff.).
+
+Footnote 26:
+
+  In speaking of Niobe I refer naturally to the group in Florence and
+  not to the less well known and understood earlier groups at St.
+  Petersburg and elsewhere; typical examples of the massacre are those
+  by Matteo di Giovanni, in the church of the Servi at Siena, and by Fra
+  Angelico in the Academy at Florence.
+
+Footnote 27:
+
+  The copies known to me are (1) in the British Museum, (2) in the
+  Vatican, (3) in the collection of Barrone Barracco, Rome, and (4) a
+  fragment in the collection of Alden Sampson, Esq., Haverford, Penn.
+
+Footnote 28:
+
+  This is not the place to discuss the meaning of the Latin word
+  _nobilis_. Suffice to say that if it is translated in this passage by
+  its more commonplace equivalent of _famous_, the criticism has little
+  point, since it is self-evident that an enduring monument, whether a
+  statue or bust, adds to the fame of the individual in whose honour it
+  is erected.
+
+Footnote 29:
+
+  It is a long-standing error to suppose that Pericles’s skull as shown
+  in these busts is peculiarly domed. The shape of the tilted helmet
+  makes it seem to be so, but comparison with other heads covered by the
+  Corinthian helmet shows that his is in no way abnormal when thus
+  represented, however it may have been when uncovered.
+
+Footnote 30:
+
+  In the Brandegee Collection.
+
+Footnote 31:
+
+  One instance will suffice to show what I mean by this. Far more pure
+  imagination is shown in the Italian representations of the Creation or
+  the Last Judgment than in the Greek scenes of the lives of their Gods
+  with which they decorated pediment and frieze.
+
+Footnote 32:
+
+  The recent discovery of a life-size marble copy of the Athena of the
+  Marsyas group has made Myron’s character much clearer than before. See
+  Pollak in the _Jahresheften des Oesterreichischen Archaeologischen
+  Institutes_, 1909, p. 154.
+
+Footnote 33:
+
+  The modern theory that wall paintings should be flat, that they should
+  not give the impression of an opening beyond the wall they are on, is
+  contradicted by all the practice of the Renaissance. Lippi, Gozzoli,
+  Leonardo, Raphael, Michael Angelo, Veronese, Correggio, to recall but
+  a few, all used wall painting as a means of suggesting larger
+  dimensions and more ample space than the rooms they decorated actually
+  afforded.
+
+Footnote 34:
+
+  To illustrate by an example: the low relief work of the Tempietto at
+  Rimini is a more perfect form of decoration (partly because of its
+  permanency) than painting would have been.
+
+Footnote 35:
+
+  In the _Bulletin of the Archæological Institute of America_, Vol. II
+  (1910–11), Plates 47 and 79, and p. 162.
+
+Footnote 36:
+
+  Mr. Berenson has done much to correct the attributions in his studies
+  on the artist he calls, since his real name is unknown, the _Amico di
+  Sandro_. Berenson’s _amico_ was, I believe, several _amici_.
+
+Footnote 37:
+
+  In the gallery of Mr. Davis, in Newport, R.I.
+
+Footnote 38:
+
+  An inscription of the seventeenth century on the back of this picture
+  reads: _Giorgon De Castel Franco_, F. Maestro De Titiano. The picture
+  was engraved by Wenzel Hollar in 1650, as the portrait of Buffalmacco
+  by Giorgione.
+
+Footnote 39:
+
+  The picture in Brunswick, a poor replica of which is in Buda-Pesth,
+  is, or is derived from, a picture engraved by Hollar in 1650 and
+  called by him a “portrait of Giorgione by himself.” This is possible,
+  but the picture is a mere wreck. See Justi, _loc. cit._
+
+Footnote 40:
+
+  Larpent, “Le jugement de Paris attribué au Giorgione,” Christiania,
+  1885.
+
+Footnote 41:
+
+  See Gronau, _Repertorium für Kunstwissenchaft_, 1908, p. 405. His
+  comment on p. 407 seems to me an error.
+
+Footnote 42:
+
+  Cf. p. 52 f.
+
+Footnote 43:
+
+  _The Painter’s Voyage of Italy._ Englished by W. Lodge. Written
+  originally in Italian by Giacomo Barri, 1679.
+
+Footnote 44:
+
+  I put a question mark after those which by general consent are no
+  longer attributed to Giorgione, and those which I doubt and shall
+  discuss in the following pages.
+
+Footnote 45:
+
+  It is noteworthy that the backs of these two panels have patterns
+  painted on them showing that the pictures once formed part of some
+  piece of furniture, and it was in decorating such objects that much of
+  Giorgione’s time, according to Ridolfi, was employed. For Bode’s
+  remarks cf. Burchardt’s _Cicerone_, Vol. II, 913.
+
+Footnote 46:
+
+  _Die Galerien zu München und Dresden_ (Leipzig, 1891), p. 270 f.
+
+Footnote 47:
+
+  Morelli adds the following note: “Weder die Herren Crowe und
+  Cavalcaselli, noch Herr Director W. Bode lassen diese zwei Bildchen
+  alz Werke des Giorgione gelten, sondern sehen dieselben als
+  Schülerarbeiten an.” So far as Crowe and Cavalcaselle are concerned,
+  this statement is an error, as one can easily see by reading what they
+  say on pp. 128–9 of the second volume of their _History of Painting in
+  North Italy_.
+
+Footnote 48:
+
+  I have not yet mentioned this picture, but shall speak of it in detail
+  later.
+
+Footnote 49:
+
+  _The Venetian Painters of the Renaissance_, p. 107.
+
+Footnote 50:
+
+  _Gazette des Beaux Arts_, October, 1897.
+
+Footnote 51:
+
+  Berenson in the first edition of his little book on Venetian Painting
+  did not mention it either, but in the third edition he passes it by
+  with these words: “The scarcely less famous picture belonging to Mr.
+  Banks is by the hand which painted the Christ and Adulteress, of the
+  Glasgow Corporation Gallery, and that hand is Giovanni Cariani’s. To
+  repeat, I would have preferred to publish opinions so divergent from
+  those usually received, in a form adequate to the importance of the
+  theme; but I console myself with the belief that the merest indication
+  suffices the competent. As for the others—Procul o procul este,
+  profani.”
+
+  Such statements can only be excused by supposing the writer to have
+  been pressed for time. Unless they are of sufficient importance for
+  the author to make them intelligible, they are not entitled to our
+  consideration. No critic is justified in making an arbitrary statement
+  which he will not take the pains to make clear.
+
+Footnote 52:
+
+  This picture was formerly called a Bellini. It comes from the
+  collection of Sir William Miles of Leigh Court. See Redford, _Art
+  Sales_, I, pp. 364–5.
+
+Footnote 53:
+
+  Berenson, _Venetian Painters of the Renaissance_.
+
+Footnote 54:
+
+  See _Archivio Storico dell’ Arte_, 1895, I, p. 77. In this passage the
+  writer (Miss Ffoulkes) speaking of an exhibition in London mentions
+  the Benson picture and the Epiphany. She thinks them by neither
+  Giorgione, nor Catena, but offers no suggestion as to the painter
+  except that there is another picture by him in the Venice Accademia
+  attributed (wrongly) to Cordegliaghi.
+
+Footnote 55:
+
+  _Die Galerie zu Dresden_, p. 266 f.
+
+Footnote 56:
+
+  It is noteworthy that Morelli claimed (as is shown by the + with which
+  the attribution is marked) to be the first to show that this picture
+  of the Knight was by Catena. Crowe and Cavalcaselle had already
+  written of the picture as by Catena. Considerable care must be
+  exercised in the use of Morelli’s writings to distinguish between his
+  true discoveries (which were many) and his agreements with earlier
+  authorities. It may be that these agreements were based on his own
+  private study, but there is a great difference between the result of
+  one’s study leading to our giving assent to what others have perceived
+  before us and our discovery of what had never been imagined by our
+  predecessors. _Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerint_, but still
+  honesty and justice are of greater value than fame. Nor does a
+  pleasant temper show in the implied sarcasm of Morelli’s words about
+  this picture which he calls a “herrliches Werk des Catena, obwohl es
+  im Galeriekatalog noch immerfort blos der Schule des Giambellino
+  zugetheilt wird (+).” It is surely not so very inaccurate to describe
+  a work by Catena as of the ‘Schule des Giambellino.’
+
+Footnote 57:
+
+  A copy of this picture hangs in the Vienna Gallery and I was told by
+  the Director in 1901 that he considered it the original; but this
+  seems to me impossible, for it is much less good in every way than the
+  Beaumont picture. A drawing of a portion of it is at Windsor.
+
+Footnote 58:
+
+  Parts of Mr. Benson’s picture have suffered from repainting. This is
+  especially true of the landscape, which seems to have lost its
+  original form.
+
+Footnote 59:
+
+  _Die Galerie zu Dresden_, p. 297, n.
+
+Footnote 60:
+
+  The inaccurate copy in the Rovigo Gallery is a wretched daub that is
+  not worth preserving. There are other poor replicas of the picture;
+  one owned by Count Lanckoronski in Vienna is considered by Venturi to
+  be the original. The other picture in the Rovigo Gallery (No. 11),
+  sometimes spoken of in the same breath with Giorgione’s name, is
+  equally worthless. It is nothing but a wretched copy of the head of
+  the Vienna David.
+
+Footnote 61:
+
+  The picture in Madrid is by Titian; the one in the Louvre is said by
+  Crowe and Cavalcaselle to be by Pellegrino da San Daniele, while
+  Berenson attributes it to Cariani.
+
+Footnote 62:
+
+  Examen | Historique et Critique | Des Tableaux | Exposées
+  Provisoirement | Venant des premier et second envoies de Milan,
+  Crémone, Parme, Plaisance, Modène, Cento et Bologne, auquel on a joint
+  le detail de tous les Monumens des Arts qui sont arrivés d’Italie.—An
+  VI^e de la Republique.
+
+Footnote 63:
+
+  A good replica is in the Corsini Gallery, Florence.
+
+Footnote 64:
+
+  _Die Galerie zu Dresden_, p. 276.
+
+Footnote 65:
+
+  And still is in some galleries, as Hampton Court.
+
+Footnote 66:
+
+  The picture has been much restored, but the faults pointed out here
+  are not due to the restorer.
+
+Footnote 67:
+
+  _Die Galerie zu Dresden_, p. 282. A copy of the picture is at Hampton
+  Court.
+
+Footnote 68:
+
+  _Die Galerie zu Dresden_, p. 282.
+
+Footnote 69:
+
+  _Gazette des Beaux Arts_, Oct. 1897, p. 270. Berenson in this
+  suggestive article has mixed ecstatic and girlish talk inextricably
+  with sound argument. In his criticism of the Judith he says: “Il
+  faudrait le talent d’un poète de premier ordre pour exprimer dans la
+  plénitude tout ce qu’on devine dans la _Judith_ de Saint Pétersbourg.”
+  True, but though such sentiments fill the page, they do not have the
+  same effect on our mind as the picture.
+
+Footnote 70:
+
+  See the engraving published by Justi in his _Giorgione_.
+
+Footnote 71:
+
+  _Italian Painters: Critical Studies of their Works._ By Giovanni
+  Morelli. _The Galleries of Munich and Dresden._ Translated by C. J.
+  Ffoulkes (London, 1893), p. 218.
+
+Footnote 72:
+
+  _Die Galerien Borghese und Doria-Pamfili in Rom_ (Leipzig, 1890), p.
+  99, n. 1.
+
+Footnote 73:
+
+  Not only did Morelli weaken his writings by exaggeration—which,
+  however, was quite natural—but in the less excusable way of giving
+  illustrations that are misleading. The woodcuts which serve to show
+  the _Grundform_ of hands and ears are only partially exact, and in one
+  case, the Bonifazio ear, a positive caricature. The process cuts of
+  the paintings are too miserable to consider. This is unfortunately as
+  true of the translations as of the original editions.
+
+Footnote 74:
+
+  Nothing shows better the distinction between the work of the
+  Renaissance and that of to-day than the fact that the careful training
+  to which the earlier artists were accustomed led them to produce in
+  their youthful and undeveloped period finished works and sketches that
+  are stiff, whereas nowadays the majority of the works of young artists
+  show not so much stiffness as laxity. The one developed from hardness
+  to easy restraint, the other advances from looseness to a mastery
+  generally much less even.
+
+Footnote 75:
+
+  Reproduced in the _Burlington Magazine_, 1895–6, p. 338.
+
+Footnote 76:
+
+  The reason I have not discussed in detail the list given by Cook in
+  his book on Giorgione (London, 1904) and in various articles in the
+  _Burlington Magazine_ (1905–1906) and _Gazette des Beaux Arts_ (1902)
+  is due to no careless disregard of his work but to the fact that his
+  point of view in regard to Giorgione and the principles of criticism
+  are so utterly dissimilar to mine that no good would be gained from
+  pointing out in detail my disagreement with his judgment.
+
+Footnote 77:
+
+  Since writing the above I have been pleased to have Signor Venturi
+  tell me that he, too, considered the work to be by Giorgione. He does
+  not agree with me about the Benson, Beaumont and National Gallery Holy
+  Families, but he does not share the Catena theory of their origin. His
+  full views will unquestionably be propounded in his forthcoming
+  edition of Vasari’s _Life of Giorgione_. Cook also thinks this Virgin
+  is by Giorgione. Venturi’s views on Giorgione are indicated in the
+  _Galleria Crespi_, p. 133 f.
+
+Footnote 78:
+
+  I leave out the one with the forged monogram of Albert Dürer in the
+  Correr Museum, for it is, I believe, by no means sure that Bellini was
+  the painter.
+
+Footnote 79:
+
+  Before the earthquake I saw in the Gallery at Messina a picture by
+  Antonello da Messina the composition of which is practically identical
+  with, and must be the origin of, the Correr panel. Whether the Messina
+  picture still exists or was destroyed I do not know.
+
+Footnote 80:
+
+  Justi’s book contains a reproduction of the engraving. A copy of the
+  engraving is owned by Mr. C. F. Murray of London.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
+
+
+ ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ ● Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last
+     chapter.
+ ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
+ ● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77325 ***
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+               margin: .67em auto; page-break-before: always; }
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+    </style>
+  </head>
+  <body>   
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77325 ***</div>
+
+<div class='tnotes covernote'>
+
+<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
+
+<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter ph1'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c001'>
+    <div>BERNINI AND OTHER STUDIES</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/i_f002.jpg' alt='[Logo]' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+    <div><span class='small'>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'>NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS</span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'>ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO</span></div>
+    <div class='c003'><span class='small'>MACMILLAN &#38; CO., <span class='sc'>Limited</span></span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'>LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA</span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'>MELBOURNE</span></div>
+    <div class='c003'><span class='small'>THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span></span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'>TORONTO</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_f004.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate I.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='titlepage'>
+
+<div>
+  <h1 class='c004'>BERNINI AND OTHER STUDIES<br> <span class='small'>IN THE</span><br> HISTORY OF ART</h1>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+    <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div>
+    <div><span class='xlarge'>RICHARD NORTON</span></div>
+    <div><span class='xsmall'>MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS, BOSTON</span></div>
+    <div class='c002'><span class='blackletter'>NEW YORK</span></div>
+    <div>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</div>
+    <div><span class='small'>LONDON: MACMILLAN AND COMPANY</span></div>
+    <div class='c003'>1914</div>
+    <div class='c003'><span class='xsmall'><i>All rights reserved</i></span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c001'>
+    <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1914,</span></span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.</span></span></div>
+    <div class='c003'><span class='small'>Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1914.</span></div>
+    <div class='c002'><span class='small'><span class='blackletter'>Norwood Press</span></span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'>J. S. Cushing Co.—Berwick &#38; Smith Co.</span></div>
+    <div><span class='small'>Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span>
+  <h2 class='c005'>PREFACE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>The essays presented in the following pages are the product
+of no hasty thought. I am grateful to the kind friends
+who have encouraged their publication, and to the publishers
+for giving them so attractive a form.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The choice of illustrations has been difficult. It has
+seemed best, however, to reproduce in full the little-known
+sketches of Bernini showing the development, in his mind, of
+the design for the Piazza of St. Peter’s, and the sculptor’s
+models wrought by his own hands. For the rest I have
+thought that it would be more serviceable for the reader to
+have a few typical examples illustrating the main points of
+the text rather than a larger, and perhaps more confusing,
+selection of subjects from the almost inexhaustible wealth of
+available material. I am under deep obligation for the generous
+permission to include among the illustrations material
+in the Brandegee Collection (at Faulkner Farm, Brookline,
+Massachusetts) hitherto unpublished. The heliotype plates
+were prepared and printed under the direction of Mr. William
+C. Ramsay, of Boston.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>RICHARD NORTON.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>London</span>, July, 1914.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span>
+  <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table0'>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>BERNINI</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>I.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>An Estimate of Bernini</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_3'>3</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>II.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>A Collection of Sculptor’s Models by Bernini</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>III.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>Bernini’s Designs for the Piazza of St. Peter’s</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>ASPECTS OF THE ART OF SCULPTURE</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>I.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>The Art of Portraiture, particularly in Sculpture</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_57'>57</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>II.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>Pheidias and Michael Angelo</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_93'>93</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>III.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>A Head of Athena found at Cyrene</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_135'>135</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>GIORGIONE</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>I.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>Paintings attributed to Giorgione</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_155'>155</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>II.</td>
+    <td class='c011'><span class='sc'>The True Giorgione</span></td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_172'>172</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c012'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c013' colspan='2'>INDEX</td>
+    <td class='c012'><a href='#Page_215'>215</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span>
+  <h2 class='c005'>PLATES</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table0'>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES I AND II. PORTRAITS OF BERNINI</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class='c010'>NUMBER</th>
+    <th class='c011'>&#160;</th>
+    <th class='c014'>&#160;</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>I.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Bernini. Pencil Drawing, by himself (p. <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>); Brandegee Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><i>Frontispiece</i></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class='c010'></th>
+    <th class='c011'>&#160;</th>
+    <th class='c014'>FACING PAGE</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>II.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Portrait, formerly thought to be of Velasquez, probably of Bernini (p. <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, footnote 3); Capitoline Gallery, Rome</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_4'>4</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES III-X. WORKS OF BERNINI</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>III.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Æneas and Anchises (p. <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>); Borghese Collection, Rome</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_8'>8</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>IV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>David (p. <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>); Borghese Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_12'>12</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>V.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Proserpina and Pluto (p. <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>); Borghese Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_16'>16</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>VI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Apollo and Daphne (p. <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>); Borghese Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_18'>18</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>VII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Angel with the Crown of Thorns (p. <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>); Church of S. Andrea delle Fratte, Rome</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_22'>22</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>VIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Angel with a Scroll (p. <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>); Church of S. Andrea delle Fratte, Rome</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_24'>24</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>IX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Saint Theresa (p. <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>); Church of S. Maria della Vittoria, Rome</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_30'>30</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>X.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Louis XIV (p. <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>); Versailles</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_38'>38</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES XI-XXVII. SCULPTOR’S MODELS BY BERNINI; BRANDEGEE COLLECTION</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Female figure in relief, with helmet (p. <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, No. 1)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Figure of Longinus, for St. Peter’s (p. <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, No. 2)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Putti, for the decoration of the piers in St. Peter’s (p. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, Nos. 3 and 4)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XIV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Two saints, for the Ciborio in the Cappella del Sacramento in St. Peter’s (p. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, Nos. 5, 7)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Two saints, for the Ciborio in the Cappella del Sacramento in St. Peter’s (p. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, Nos. 6, 8)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XVI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Bas-relief with half-figures (p. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, No. 9)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>XVII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Half figure of a Triton holding a woman on his shoulders (p. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, No. 10)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XVIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Study for the head of the St. Jerome in the Duomo of Siena (p. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, No. 11)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XIX-XXIV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Models of Angels (pp. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, 48, Nos. 12–21)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Standing male figure in high relief (p. <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, No. 22)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXVI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Oval bas-relief of the Virgin (p. <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, No. 23)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXVII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Standing female figure, and standing Angel (p. <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, Nos. 24, 25)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES XXVIII-XL. BERNINI’S DESIGNS FOR THE PIAZZA OF ST. PETER’S; BRANDEGEE COLLECTION</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXVIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Orb, surmounted by a cross; outline of a crucified figure (p. <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, Nos. 1, 2)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXIX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Outline plan of St. Peter’s church correlated with a figure on a cross above lines suggesting the colonnades (p. <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, Nos. 3, 4)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>More complete correlation of the crucified figure with St. Peter’s church (p. <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, Nos. 5, 6)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Outline elevation of north half of the facade of St. Peter’s, with the colonnade (p. <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, No. 7)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Sketches of the north colonnade (p. <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, No. 8)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>More elaborate sketch of the north colonnade (p. <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, No. 9)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXIV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Outline sketch of the outer end of the north arm of the colonnade, treated as if in two stories (p. <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, No. 10)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Interior of inner end of north arm of colonnade (p. <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, No. 11)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXVI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Plan and elevation of the Cortile di S. Damaso (p. <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, No. 12)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXVII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Façade of St. Peter’s, with both colonnades treated as if in two stories (p. <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, No. 13)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXVIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>View looking east from the front of St. Peter’s (p. <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, No. 14)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XXXIX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>The Borgo, looking toward St. Peter’s (p. <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, No. 15)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XL.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Correlation of the Piazza with the Orb (p. <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, No. 16)</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES XLI-LI. PORTRAITS</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Sheik-el-Beled, statue of wood, Fourth Dynasty (p. <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>); Boulak Museum, Cairo</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_58'>58</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xi'>xi</span>XLII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Sheik-el-Beled, head of statue shown in plate XLI</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_60'>60</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Portrait, so-called Scipio type, now identified as priest of Isis (p. <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>); Museum of Fine Arts, Boston</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_64'>64</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLIV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Pericles (p. <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>); British Museum</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_66'>66</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>So-called Menander (p. <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>); Brandegee Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_72'>72</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLVI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Periander (p. <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>); Vatican Museum</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_74'>74</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLVII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Unknown Roman, terra-cotta (p. <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>); Museum of Fine Arts, Boston</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_78'>78</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLVIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Unknown old man, Roman (p. <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>); Brandegee Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_84'>84</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>XLIX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Antoninus Pius (p. <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>); Brandegee Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_86'>86</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>L.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Roman girl (p. <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>); Museum of Fine Arts, Boston</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_88'>88</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Sabina? (p. <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>); Brandegee Collection</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES LII-LIX. PHEIDIAS AND MICHAEL ANGELO</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Caryatid from the Erechtheum, Athens (p. <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>); British Museum</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_96'>96</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Madonna and Child, by Michael Angelo (p. <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>); Bruges</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_100'>100</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LIV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>The Victor, by Michael Angelo (p. <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>); National Museum, Florence</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_106'>106</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Bacchus with Satyr, by Michael Angelo (p. <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>); National Museum, Florence</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_112'>112</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LVI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Eros, by Michael Angelo (p. <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>); South Kensington Museum</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_118'>118</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LVII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Ares and other Divinities (p. <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>); Frieze of the Parthenon, Athens</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_124'>124</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LVIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>So-called Athena Medici (p. <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>); École des Beaux-Arts, Paris</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_126'>126</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LIX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Madonna and Child, by Michael Angelo, unfinished (p. <a href='#Page_131'>131</a>); Church of S. Lorenzo, Florence</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_130'>130</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES LX, LXI. CYRENE ATHENA</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Profile view of head (p. <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>); Cyrene</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_136'>136</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Front view of head</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_144'>144</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td class='c009' colspan='3'>PLATES LXII-LXIX. PAINTINGS BY GIORGIONE</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c011'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c014'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>The Judgment of Solomon (p. <a href='#Page_172'>172</a>); Kingston Lacy, England</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_162'>162</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Adoration of the Magi, or Epiphany (p. <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>); National Gallery, London</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_168'>168</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xii'>xii</span>LXIV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Shepherd’s Offering (p. <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>); in the Lord Allandale Collection, London</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_174'>174</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXV.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>The Storm, gypsy woman and soldier in the foreground (p. <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>); Giovanelli Palace, Venice</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_180'>180</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXVI.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>The Three Philosophers (p. <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>); Vienna</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_186'>186</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXVII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Head of Christ bearing the Cross (p. <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>); Gardner Collection, Boston</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_194'>194</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXVIII.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Portrait (p. <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>); Wood Collection, Temple Newsam, England</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_202'>202</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c010'>LXIX.</td>
+    <td class='c011'>Madonna and Child (p. <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>); Vienna</td>
+    <td class='c014'><a href='#Page_204'>204</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <h2 class='c005'>BERNINI</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>
+  <h3 class='c004'>I. AN ESTIMATE OF BERNINI</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>During the last hundred years there has come a great
+change in the feeling of most people towards the art of the
+different epochs of the Renaissance. Whereas our grandfathers
+and our great-grandfathers held Carracci and Guido
+and others of the same time in high esteem, we are now
+taught that these later men are of little value or interest in
+comparison with the artists of the fifteenth century, and even
+the most halting and stuttering “Primitive” is held of more
+worth than the more able masters of the seventeenth century.
+This change is natural enough, but betokens a lack of true
+understanding of the purpose and powers of the fine arts.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The altered mental attitude in religious matters which renders
+most people incapable of feeling the appeal of the mystical
+fervour of the seventeenth century explains in a measure
+why the earlier work is preferred; and added to this is the
+effect of the development of archæological training which has
+given rise to an interest in the mere search for origins—a
+search that has done infinite harm in blinding the eyes of
+students to the fact that, for the world at large, it is far more
+important to see whither life is carrying us than from what
+slow, groping, and inexplicable protoplasm and haphazard
+chance it sprung. The teachers of our universities go on
+in their dull round, like Dervishes, repeating that the Parthenon
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>was the most perfect expression of Greek art, and there
+are those who cannot see the beauty of the silver vases from
+Boscoreale because they choose to call them Roman. Without
+doubt there are many sound reasons for the purely archæological
+study of classic art, and recently a small but perceptive
+band of scholars has raised Roman art from the
+ignorant neglect into which it had fallen and given it the
+proper position due to any such able expression of great ideas;
+this justifies the hope that the worth of the later Italian
+schools will become once more manifest, not again to be forgotten.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The idea that the art of any civilized people rises by a
+steady and constantly more perfect progression to one glorious
+peak of perfection and then falls by rapid and recurring
+blunders to a waste of meaningless effort is, I believe, due to
+the too frequent mistake of considering the monuments of
+the arts as separate entities and as self-ordained rather than
+as indices of vital currents of thought and life. The English
+dictionary is not synonymous with English literature. Nor
+does the will-o’-the-wisp phrase “art for art’s sake” mean
+that each work of art is a unique and inexplicable phenomenon.
+Its true meaning is that the artist, be he poet or sculptor or
+musician—no matter what form his art takes—finds the only
+adequate expression of himself in the forms and under the
+governance of the laws of the art which he follows. By so
+far as he follows these laws is his work intelligible to other
+men; by so far as he finds new combinations for the forms
+and new adaptations of the laws to meet the new circumstances
+of ever changing life is he original and great. When
+Shakespeare or Keats wrote a sonnet the verses were not produced
+by them merely for the sake of using a certain complicated
+formula of fourteen lines to make certain statements,
+nor when Pheidias carved the Athena or Praxiteles the Hermes
+was it merely with the idea of reproducing the human form in
+stone.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p004a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate II.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>Had such been the motive of these poets and sculptors
+their results would have had small value; but each one of
+them had something to say that he could best express in
+the form chosen, some feeling towards life he wished to
+share with others, and in this outgiving he steadily sought
+to perfect the form that held his idea. The care he lavished
+on the verse and marble so that the expression of this thought
+might be the completest possible and truest to his idea, the
+delight in making his chosen art conform to the laws of
+language or of gravity, while at the same time it held the
+thought as a nest holds an egg, <i>that</i> was art for art’s sake, and
+a very different matter from mere technical dexterity.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>All the arts are alike means of conveying ideas from
+brain to brain and from the past and forgotten generations to
+those not yet thought of. No one school ever told the whole
+truth, but only that part of it maybe which local circumstances
+enable it to see. Each of them, from the earliest which faded
+away before recorded time, to the latest which looks eagerly
+forward to to-morrow with the hope of new accomplishment
+and absorption in new truths discovered, is but as the searchlight
+casting its sharp-defined ray through the immeasurable
+dark. The flames of Priam’s pyre crimsoning the night which
+hung over the “topless towers” were not marked on the Argive
+hills, but the message was flashed hither and yon over the
+star-tracked sea, raising now hopes now fears, till at Mycenæ
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>no answering flame was lit, but instead the young Phœnix was
+born.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>And as no one school can answer all the questions, so
+no one single pundit can tell all the truth even of his own
+school. In each honest, unshamming workman there is something
+of truth, something others long ago thrilled to or that
+others yet to come may also feel, something that he knows
+with a clarity and conviction not to be equalled by any other.
+In a sense he does express his time, but neither the artist nor
+any man else is merely the product of his time, and the truly
+great ones go ahead of it, following the gleam of the divine
+spark which each man is born with to shelter in his heart as
+best he may. If it keep alight, by God’s grace, his life becomes
+in truth art for art’s sake, and he is one of the successful runners
+in the torch race across the great divide of life that separates
+the hopeless past from the hopeful future.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of such there are many to spur on the weary and to guide
+the strayed back to the beacon path. In every man who has
+appealed to the masses, whose ears have rung and whose heart
+has swelled with the loud cries of “well done,” there is, be
+sure, something of the ultimate divine truth—some no mockery—some
+sincerity which heated in the fires of his
+soul and beaten with long pain and trouble on the anvil of his
+heart, shall be, if we can grasp it, a treasure undiminishing so
+long as we have breath to live.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such an one was Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini, whose life was
+almost coterminous with the seventeenth century (1598–1680).
+Honoured during life by three courts, and at that
+time court patronage was a very different thing to what it is
+now, he has of late been treated with a disregard which is
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>unjustified, and has been blamed for faults which were not his.
+These false judgments can be traced back to the envy of some
+of his contemporaries, who on the one hand accused him of
+ignorance of the mechanics of his art and of stupidity of design,
+and on the other, oftentimes, did their best to copy him. But
+it gives us pause when we consider that notwithstanding the
+forces of jealousy backed by powerful influence that were
+brought to bear on him he remained in the eyes of artistic
+Italy during his sixty and more working years the “Michael
+Angelo of the seicento.” And this estimate of him, if we lay
+aside preconceived notions and formulas handed down to us
+by our parents, and look at his work with our own eyes and
+study it in the light of our own knowledge, will turn out to
+be the right one. Only the rash and heedless dare say of
+one who acquired such admiration in his own day that his
+work was poor and unworthy. And yet this is what is said.
+His style is said to be extravagant and artificial and his violent
+material effects are said to show that he was unable to express
+thought. Even the group of Apollo and Daphne is held to
+exhibit his ignorance of the proper domain of sculpture. It
+seems to me more likely that the judgment of the artists and
+critics of the seventeenth century is apt to be the correct one.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>What would be artificial in an artist to-day was not so in
+Bernini, but was, if we could see it and free our hearts from the
+bonds of tradition, the most honest and simplest expression of
+a genius who had a new message for those who would take the
+trouble to understand. Frequently his work is criticised for
+not conforming to the “severe laws” of good sculpture and
+in this criticism lies the common fallacy of letting personal
+taste usurp the place of critical judgment. There are, of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>course, laws of gravity, and of stress or strain to which a sculptor
+must conform because they are in the nature of the material
+he uses, just as there are optical laws which the painter
+should know; but there are no laws to fix what the artist
+may or may not represent or the forms which he should give
+to his representations. Personal taste is very well in its place,
+but it is not criticism; and severe laws are good training for
+our powers, but dependence on them leads to stagnation and
+not to discovery. Because the stage-coach follows the old
+gray road is it artificial of the aeroplane to soar through the
+trackless ether? Probably most critics, when they speak of
+severe laws as fixed and irrevocable, have in mind those followed
+by the Greeks of the fifth century <span class='fss'>B.C.</span>—surely of no
+later time, for what of the violent material effects of Pergamon?
+But suppose portraits of the present-day business
+kings were carved according to the one-time valid classic
+laws? Strangely unlike the subject would such portraits be!</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There is nothing ultimately right in severity nor ultimately
+wrong in violence. The money-changers were not led from
+the temple by a ribbon round their necks. The pioneer and
+path breaker must be violent. This was Bernini’s work and
+purpose, and it is no more reasonable to blame him for the insincerity
+and stupidity of his followers than to blame Columbus
+for lynch law. As of many another, Bernini’s fame has
+been dimmed by the follies and shams of his would-be imitators.
+Many tried to imitate and surpass him, but it was not
+to be done. He had the quality of genius which is more than
+the power of taking infinite pains. That his pupils had, but
+they merely exaggerated the form of the outer husk of his
+work till it lost all semblance of truth and became nothing
+but untruth and error. In him was the divine spark, the light
+of which showed new worlds for sculpture to work in and the
+heat of which moulded his material into the eternal forms of
+beauty.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p008a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate III.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>The study of Bernini is established on very strong foundations,
+and the misinterpretation of his aims is inexcusable;
+for we have sure records of every kind concerning him. From
+his surprising youth to his busy old age we can trace his progress
+and the development of his powers. Of all his numerous
+works scarcely one is lost, and such as have disappeared are of
+no importance whatever in comparison with what remains.
+The full account of his life was written by two contemporaries,
+one of them his son, and this is amplified by many letters and
+other papers—accounts of payments for his work, stories of
+his doings, plans for work sometimes never undertaken and
+other times finally accomplished by himself or his pupils,
+that have been turned up into the light after long sleep in
+Italian archives.<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c015'><sup>[1]</sup></a> It is all before us, and each chapter of his
+life can be recalled from the Elysian fields. We grow eager
+with the same hopes, we feel despondent at the same broken
+faith and pledges, we grow interested in the same companionships,
+we rest after the same magnificent accomplishments,
+and to the end we are keen in search of new worlds to open up.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Even the look of him we know; what the appearance was
+as he moved among the Popes and Kings, the Cardinals and
+Princes of Europe. What it was for a man they saw we too
+can see. What it was of a heart he felt dragging him on with
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>engine throbs we can guess when our amazed eyes rest on the
+Saint Theresa, the bust of Louis XIV, or the throne in St.
+Peter’s. A strongly built, dark man, his thick hair whitening
+in old age, but the quick eye never losing its brilliancy and
+piercing glance. Of simple fashion in dress, as the pictures
+and drawings by himself and others show him, for all his love
+of rich stuffs and floating draperies. A ready and pleasant
+wit made him the best of company, though at times withdrawn
+into himself by some mystical absorption. For just as the
+great religious leaders, so the great artists are at times lifted
+by some ecstasy away from actual surrounding fact and lost
+in worlds only visible to their inner eye, and though visible
+never to be told of. At other times his spirits broke forth
+in irrepressible gaiety which though it might form itself as
+satire was never malevolent. Generous to a fault, and always
+ready to lift up a friend, he was implacable towards his enemies,
+and rightly showed them no mercy. He had the strength
+to be a good hater,—not feebly excusing hypocrisy and meanness
+because the hypocrite was weak or knew no better, but
+hating, not the poor miserable individual, but his qualities,
+and, to the best of his own power, destroying them. Proud
+and self-confident, but willing to answer questions or to explain
+what might seem faults. A lonely man; one with many acquaintances
+but few friends. Too sincere not to be shocked
+by the heartless brutishness of the woman he loved, too honest
+a workman not to be hurt by the attacks of envy, but never
+losing heart, always following his ideal and seeking to eternize
+the beautiful visions of his bright soul.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There are many portraits of him, some done with pencil
+or pen or graver, others more elaborate oil paintings. They
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>are the work of his friends, or done by himself, and show him
+at various periods of life from young manhood to old age.
+Naturally they vary in many ways, but the variance is for
+the most part in the details of the outer shell of the man. The
+thick dark locks of the youth give place to the thin gray hairs
+of the old man; the full cheeks grow sunken and wrinkles
+frame the piercing eyes; but in all the portraits certain characteristics
+remain constant. A pencil drawing in the Galleria
+Nazionale in Rome is the best of the youthful portraits.<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c015'><sup>[2]</sup></a> It is
+by himself, done when he was some twenty years old. It
+shows a finely shaped head with thick, waving hair. The face
+is strongly modelled, and all the features noticeable; the nose
+large and slightly bent, the chin square and strong. Lips full
+and sensitive, but vigorous. Most noticeable of all are the
+eyes, large and dark, set rather deeply under heavy brows,
+looking straightly and sadly but imperturbably on the world.
+A face of power yet of sweetness. A man to ask after and to
+watch what he will do in this world. Rather older we see
+him in two drawings in the private collection of Prince Chigi
+in Rome.<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c015'><sup>[3]</sup></a> Life was testing him severely we know, but the
+eyes are still steady, are still bright with the inner light that
+was leading him on, and the mouth is still sweet and undrawn.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of about the same time, or a little later maybe, is the oil
+portrait supposed to be by himself (though for this there is
+little proof), in the Uffizi.<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c015'><sup>[4]</sup></a> No change yet in the character
+except in a strengthening and making permanent the good
+qualities of his youth. The man has found himself. Many
+years go by before we again see him face to face.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>In the Gallery of St. Luke<a id='r5'></a><a href='#f5' class='c015'><sup>[5]</sup></a> and in the possession of Count
+Andreozzi in Rome<a id='r6'></a><a href='#f6' class='c015'><sup>[6]</sup></a> are portraits of him in his last years, and
+a very fine pencil drawing by himself in the Brandegee Collection
+(Plate I). All his works were completed, his visits to the
+courts of Europe were over, he is the “Michael Angelo of the
+seicento,” and yet he is just as simple in his dress and pose
+as ever. Obviously a great man whose ideals were so much
+greater to him than what he had accomplished that no possible
+flattery could disturb the balance of his mental poise. One
+change there is in the face more to be remarked than the
+higher forehead and the fuller chin. The eyes are still bright
+and level, the mouth still as soft and strong, but the sadness
+of expression has gone. Had he realized, I wonder, that soon
+all the sorrows of life would be hidden and lost under the
+gray church floor? Though the glad light of the sun no
+longer shone upon his life his face is bright with a mystical
+light as of the ranging stars which for countless thousands
+of years have guided the feet of man.<a id='r7'></a><a href='#f7' class='c015'><sup>[7]</sup></a></p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p012a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate IV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>It may be thought that I have given a fanciful interpretation
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>to the change that came in his face from youth to old age,
+but it can be shown that some such thoughts as I have suggested
+moved him. About 1650, at a time when his enemies
+had attacked his work in St. Peter’s and caused him great financial
+damage and still greater hurt to his natural and proper
+pride, the idea came to him to carve an allegory that should
+show the ages what his feeling towards his critics, towards
+art and towards life truly was. Allegories in painting or
+sculpture are usually, owing to the fixed limitations of these
+arts, unintelligible, but no artist ever lived who could have
+done as well as Bernini in making clear his idea with the material
+he used. Even if we did not have his own words about
+this group his thought would be seen, for his amazing command
+of technique and his knowledge of statics made it possible for
+him to combine figures with a freedom rarely equalled, and
+thereby to express himself with an ease and fulness beyond
+the powers of most sculptors of any time. Only one of the
+two figures which were to form the group was ever finished,
+but there is a sepia sketch showing the whole composition.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In it we see the winged figure of Time hovering above a
+beautiful woman from whose nude body he lifts a mantle. She
+is Truth; in her hand she holds an image of the Sun darting
+bright rays in all directions. This group meant much to him;
+was perhaps the most personal and truly expressive work he
+ever made, and till his death he kept it by him. In his will
+he says that not without reason has he kept this statue of
+Truth unveiled by Time which he wishes to remain for ever
+in the possession of his descendants who, as they look on it,
+may remember that the most lovely of the virtues is Truth
+and that if one works under her guidance Time in the end
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>reveals her. Are the “severe laws” of the ancients any more
+severe than this rule Bernini held before himself and wished
+his descendants never to forget, and is it sensible because at
+first sight his work seems strange and unaccountable to
+damn it with such words as “fantastic” or “baroque”?</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The group was never finished, but in a dirty courtyard off
+the Corso in Rome, neglected as only the Italians know how
+to neglect such things till some outsider stirs their jaded appreciation
+to new interest, is the Discovered Truth. Time on
+hasty wings flies by, but as Bernini knew, Truth stays always,
+heedless of neglect, the fixed pole for all those who set their
+aim beyond the bounds within which their earthly eyes would
+prison them. And knowing this, it came to pass that his
+old face was lit with a peaceful smile as he came to the evening
+of life.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Bernini’s work is of unusual variety, but the best of it falls
+into four classes. There are the wonderful groups illustrating
+old world myths that he produced in the full joy of life in his
+youth; there are the amazing religious monuments in which
+he embodied with unrivalled skill the mystical intensity of
+the religion whose chief priests he served; there are the superbly
+joyous settings for fountains which though the waters
+might dry up and cease to flow will still, so long as the stone
+lasts, echo their murmuring music; and there are the long series
+of magnificent busts on which he was employed from his very
+earliest days to his latest. He was besides author, painter,
+illustrator, and architect. I have no intention of cataloguing
+the long series of work his never idle hand produced, but wish
+merely to point out some of the forgotten beauties that he
+brought into being. In a measure, it is possible to trace the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>source of his inspiration and in lesser degree to foresee its
+outcome.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>His father, Pietro, a Florentine, was a sculptor of no mean
+power before him. His mother was of Naples, and in that
+southern, passionate city Gian Lorenzo was born in 1598 and
+there he passed his first years. Some day another Mendel
+may be able to establish what were the forces of Florentine
+and Neapolitan blood that lay dormant in his young brain,
+but for us is no such certainty, and we can only guess at the
+effect of the father’s artistic occupations and the mother’s
+quick blood. In 1604, when the boy was but six years old,
+his father moved to Rome, the city his son was destined to
+impress with his genius as no city but Athens has ever been
+impressed by a single artist. Working at first for his father,
+he was only fourteen years old when he drew to himself the
+attention of all the <i>connoscenti</i> by two busts which, as Annibale
+Carracci said, any artist after years of work might have
+been proud to make. The admiration Bernini won for these
+works, to which I shall return, led, as was the good habit
+of those days, to the patronage of the Borghese pope, Paul V.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the Borghese villa, the ruined grandeur of which is still
+the chief pride of Rome, the young Bernini was surrounded
+by beautiful antique marbles, some of which he was called
+upon to restore. This familiarity with ancient sculpture,
+and this subjection in the task of restoration of his own spirit
+to that of classic masters, had a very marked effect on him—an
+effect which in its deepest sense lasted throughout his long
+life, though its more obvious and visible manifestation soon
+waned and faded away. That is to say, while his work at all
+times showed a perfect comprehension of some of the fundamental
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>laws of the material out of which sculpture is formed,
+laws that were first clearly expounded by the Greeks, it is
+only in a few of his earliest, and for a youth miraculous,
+works that he shows a tendency to imitate classic form.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Four wonderful works were produced for the Borghese
+family. The Æneas and Anchises (Plate III), the David
+(Plate IV), the Rape of Proserpina (Plate V), and the exquisite
+group of Apollo and Daphne (Plate VI). All these were
+finished when he was only twenty-seven. Realizing this,
+the comparison of him with Michael Angelo no longer seems
+exaggerated, but one sees further that no such comparison can
+perform the ordinary service of all such juxtapositions, which
+is to afford a scale of better or worse, for the two masters
+are supreme, each in his own individual and original way,
+and incomparable.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p016a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate V.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>Opinion may easily differ in regard to the first three of the
+works just mentioned. To me the Æneas is the least pleasing
+and the David the least successful artistically. The faults
+of both may be in part due to the fact that in each case Bernini’s
+imagination was to a certain degree hampered by work
+of other men which he seems to have set himself to surpass,
+and even though it may be granted that he did surpass his
+models, he would have done better, as in the Proserpina and
+Daphne, to let his own genius lead him whither it would and
+ignore other suggestion. The models I refer to are, in the
+case of the Æneas, the Christ by Michael Angelo in Santa
+Maria sopra Minerva and for the David the Borghese Warrior
+now in the Louvre, both works of small merit.<a id='r8'></a><a href='#f8' class='c015'><sup>[8]</sup></a> The reason
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>the Æneas seems to me unpleasing is because of the weakness
+and unheroic look of the faces and figures, but others may not
+feel this, and the skill of the group is undoubted. The lack
+of success in the David is due to a slight failure in understanding
+the Greek motive that Bernini was copying. Whether
+or not he had in mind the Borghese Warrior as he carved this
+figure is a matter of slight importance. He was in any case
+representing a single figure in a position of strongly marked
+action, a problem that Myron magnificently solved in the
+Discobolus. The Borghese Warrior is by no means so successful.
+The David would rival the Discobolus had Bernini
+not made one mistake. The figure is turned to the wrong
+side. As he stands, the right arm drawn back, the left hand
+holding the stone in the sling in front of the body, the sling
+must fall loose and dead, the body must again be flung forward
+and the right arm swung upwards before the youth can
+get the momentum to hurl the stone at his enemy. Had
+Bernini turned the figure the other way with the left hand
+behind and the right in front of the body, this sense of ineffectiveness
+in the pose would not have existed, and the whole
+body would have been tensely set at the moment of rest between
+the action of drawing back for the aim and the instantaneously
+following motion of the cast.<a id='r9'></a><a href='#f9' class='c015'><sup>[9]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Though such slight criticism may be passed on these
+two works, the other two, the Proserpina and Daphne are not
+open to any similar attack. They are magnificent, and compel
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>admiration even from those whose training would tend to
+limit their preferences to work of another type. Never was
+the spirit of the two stories more fully understood or more
+adequately rendered. Never was marble managed in more
+masterful fashion and given such flux and flow of life. One’s
+breath catches as one looks, for it seems no longer a work of
+art before one’s eyes, but life itself. There is the dark, passionate
+rape of Proserpine, her splendid soft body shrinking
+and twisting in the grasp of the undeniable, compelling God
+of the underworld. There is the sweet, sad loss of Daphne,
+her exquisite springtime figure fading and changing into the
+rustling silver leaves in fright at the too hasty claim of her
+lover. Her face is still lovely, though the wide eyes and open
+mouth show her fear, but is there nothing in her fear of loss
+of her dear pursuer? And what of him? Not to be thought
+of as Olympian brother to the cruel, forceful Pluto. His
+face and action betoken the tenderness that would save the
+woman he loves from the heartless folly she would thoughtlessly
+commit. In the one group the storm and rush of passion;
+in the other the tender restraint of love. Both purely
+Greek and classic, and both carved with such consummate
+mastery that we forget the marble and see only the dark Tartarean
+glow and hear only the whispering of the sad leaves.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p018a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate VI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>The perfection of technique displayed in the works of
+Bernini’s youthful years is obvious to anyone with the slightest
+knowledge of sculpture. His knowledge of anatomy must
+have been almost instinctive, while he used the chisel with an
+ease that few painters could rival with a brush. His understanding,
+too, of balance and composition and of the forms the
+marble could be given was a revelation, and infinitely enlarged
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>the field of sculpture. As a mere group, the Daphne has never
+been surpassed, and Bernini himself recognised that, at least
+from the point of view of technique, none of his later works
+were any more marvellous. The spirit and character, however,
+of the later work are very different. It is worth noting that
+his method of production differs greatly from that of his
+predecessors. Hundreds of sepia drawings by him still exist
+which show the fertility of his invention and the labour he
+spent in getting the best design for his works. There are also
+many terra cotta models for his statues, and in all of these we
+see a directness in the way he approached his subject that differentiates
+him from the forerunners in the art. Among the
+Greeks, among the painters at least, it was not uncommon to
+think of the body and the drapery as separate and to draw
+or model the first entirely nude and then afterwards to put
+drapery over it. This habit was common enough during the
+Renaissance, and the studies of such men as Dürer and Leonardo
+show that it was not confined to the lesser men whose
+lack of skill and knowledge was helped by such double process.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>But among all the hundreds of sketches on paper and models
+in terra-cotta that are left us of Bernini’s work there is scarcely
+a trace of this method of procedure. He visualized each work
+in endless different ways, making rapid but most skilful studies
+of them all, but he saw the figure each time completed. The
+figures and drapery and setting were one indivisible whole to
+him, and his uncommon knowledge of anatomy, and the rare
+clearness of his mental vision, made it possible for him when
+the final form of the work was fixed upon to work at it from the
+outside inwards, and not, as in something built of blocks, from
+the inside outwards. And while his sketches differ in this
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>regard from those of most other artists, the variety of them,
+especially the very numerous ones for the same monument,
+show the pitch of excellence to which art had arrived, for
+these sketches are no longer the record of the artist’s search
+to learn <i>how</i>, but of his eager search <i>how best</i>. Not that Bernini
+was unique in this. The fertility of invention of such
+men as Domenico Tiepolo is as that of a tree putting forth
+leaves, but no other artist illustrates these qualities and
+methods more completely and masterfully than our Gian
+Lorenzo.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I have mentioned above the originality displayed by men
+such as Michael Angelo and Bernini. Many another name
+could be added to these two, but it is not of men I wish to
+speak, but of this quality of originality, this crucible from
+which the old is drawn forth new, this Spring season of the
+mind which clothes the old, dry stumps with fresh life. The
+word is so often misused about the artists of to-day that its
+real significance is lost and true originality is too often imitated
+by a cheaper, rottener stuff. Every one of us is original
+in some degree. No one, unless he be mentally dead, sees or
+feels or believes as his father or grandfathers did before him.
+It may be the old belief was more correct and the old eyes were
+sharper than the new. Only the purblind and myopic think
+that all the early stages were wrong and that the solitary
+Present is alone right. Were this so, how hopelessly wrong
+this same Present would soon be! What a hideous precipice
+of error would this life’s painful course appear! As in life,
+so it is in Art, and all artists are original who are genuine and
+honest, who are spurred on only by their ideals and their love
+for their work—who give up worshipping the xoana and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>idols of a past day. It may be suggested that there is little
+difference, or perhaps even none, between one’s own ideal
+and any other suggested to us by some wrought image, whether
+in stone or verse is no matter. But there is. There is the
+difference of life. The light of one is of the dying embers, but
+the light of the other is of the rising Sun which shows the path
+we follow till our feet grow slower and slower, till at the last
+they halt and stop fixed. While the idol remains but the
+symbol of the ideal it is right. When it becomes the God it is
+wrong, or when doubt has cut its roots and sapped its strength
+and we pay it service merely because to do so has become an
+easy habit. So it is we come to see that the originality of
+these artists was not mere novelty, but was truthfulness. It
+represents their beliefs, and what you believe you believe for
+yourself alone. It shows us what their real, sure-founded
+and enduring hopes and aims were. Mere novelty cannot be
+believed in because it is accidental. It has neither root nor
+promise of flower. It is the mirage of the salt desert, and it is
+this mere queerness, mere strain, mere novelty which is too
+often mistaken for originality. It is the paradox masquerading
+as the True Word. Just as this world whirls like a “fretful
+midge” through space, ever in the same track, a recurring
+course, but gradually unperceived moves elsewhither,
+so do the great artists revolve, and impelled not by their own
+wilfulness but by the power of the divine spark within them,
+slowly move forward. And among that splendid company is
+Bernini.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The terra cotta studies in the Brandegee Collection<a id='r10'></a><a href='#f10' class='c015'><sup>[10]</sup></a> illustrate
+clearly Bernini’s originality and the power to which
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>I have referred above, of seeing his visions in their completeness
+without having to painfully build them up. I do not
+mean to imply that each separate detail of his works was the
+same in his first vision of them as in their finished form. He
+worked at them assiduously, and perfected them with the
+greatest patience and care, but when they came into his mind
+they rose before him like ghosts from the tomb—vague but
+entire.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is noteworthy that most of these models are of angels, and
+as such represent the religious work by which Bernini is best
+known, and on which he was most often employed after his
+youth was past. By the time he was twenty-five years old
+he had been employed by three Popes, and before his death
+five others sought his aid and depended largely on his genius
+in their endeavours to beautify Rome and to render their
+own fame imperishable. These undertakings were of very
+various character, but the greater number of them, such as
+statues of Saints, decoration of chapels, altars and tabernacles,
+grave monuments of Popes and prelates, were done
+with religious purpose and may be called his ecclesiastical
+work. It is superb in its mastery, magnificent in effect, and
+while utterly different from anything that had been done before,
+gives the impression of complete and perfect sincerity.
+Though unlike earlier work and though the religion that inspired
+and made it possible has changed so that never again
+will an artist be able to give similar expression to his ideals,
+still there is no ground for considering it merely curious and
+the expression of insincerity or passing error. Anything that
+affected so many thousands of men, which they found beautiful
+and satisfying to their souls, must be in a measure true,
+must have in it some portion of ultimate wisdom. Silence or
+contempt towards it, any feeling but of sympathy with it,
+shows not a better knowledge but a duller understanding.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p022a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate VII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>During the sixteenth century a great change had come about
+in the way men looked at life. Discoveries were made of all
+sorts; on land for men’s feet to follow or in mathematics and
+philosophy for their souls to reach up to. Old dogmas became
+untenable and the roofs with which men had sheltered their
+heads became scaffolding on which they planted their feet.
+It was a time of revolution—the revolution of the wheel of
+life which advances as it turns. I have called attention to
+the fact that the artists in their search for the fullest possible
+expression of their thought often threw off dozens of designs
+for a single work before finding the one most adequate. Technique
+no longer hampered them in the slightest way, and they
+readily changed their mode in accordance with new views, no
+longer blindly following the old guides. The work of Titian
+is one of the most obvious illustrations of this. In his youth
+he followed, like the Indian, the steps of his leaders, but as he
+aged, he broke from them more and more, till at the end
+he arrived in a world his teachers could never have imagined.
+Bernini had a similar experience.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>One of the commonest complaints brought against Bernini
+is that he introduced the habit of decorating the archivolts
+or domed roofs of the churches with figures of angels fluttering
+about like great white birds, and in this complaint no distinction
+is made between the idea that underlay this scheme of
+decoration and the inappropriate and exaggerated use of it
+made often by his imitators. From the earliest times of the
+Renaissance, this scheme had been used. Bernini did not
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>invent it. The Gothic portals and towers of France are
+crowded with figures of saints and kings, of angels and demons.
+In orderly ranks they guard the gates or singly spring
+into mid air from the balconies. In Italy the shepherds of
+the people stood in pulpits which rested on the strong shoulders
+of Christ’s soldiers or on the steady wings of the heavenly
+host, while high o’erhead (as in the Portinari Chapel in S.
+Eustorgio, Milan), a ring of winged figures, hand holding hand,
+danced and sang, and down the long aisles and in the dark
+chapels every sleeper in his stony bed was guarded by the
+faithful spirits.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Why then find fault with Bernini and think he erred in
+doing what all the world found good? If Bernini is mistaken
+in putting marble figures above our heads, why excuse Correggio
+for the circling swarms with which he covered the
+church domes, or Michael Angelo for the cataract of figures
+with which he covered the Sistine Chapel? All such work
+must be considered for its suggestion, not from the point of
+view of its actual substance. Why, if the conventional and
+halting work of the nameless early artists is good, should the
+masterly work of Bernini be considered bad? Only because
+the modern world thinks it foolish to believe in anthropomorphic
+angels and having no belief, has lost the power of
+understanding symbols. And also the antagonism Bernini’s
+work arouses is due to the fad for the primitive and incomplete.
+The very lack of power that every early artist tried to rid
+himself of is now thought to be his chief value and grace, and
+as in the daily press a missing word puzzle attracts more attention
+than a sonnet so the halting early work finds more
+admirers than the later perfect art.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p024a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate VIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>Perfect as they are, there is something more than anthropomorphism
+in Bernini’s angels. Earlier artists, even the
+best of the Florentines, when representing these heavenly
+messengers, almost always make them so solid and human that
+the wings are utterly inadequate, or else they suggest the body
+by a thin and shapeless swirl of drapery topped by a perfectly
+substantial head. In either case the result is unsatisfactory,
+for though the figures conform to the usual idea of angels as
+effeminate human forms with wings, the chief impression they
+make is of inconsistent and impossible anatomical combinations.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>They fail just as the archaic Greek centaurs with human
+feet fail. When one looks at Bernini’s angels, the two done
+in his youth for the altar of Sant’ Agostino, or the two for
+instance which he carved in later years for the Ponte Sant’
+Angelo, but which were considered too beautiful to be exposed
+in the open air and are now sheltered in Sant’ Andrea delle
+Fratte (Plates VII, VIII), or at the one which kneels on the
+left hand of the <i>Ciborio</i> in the <i>Cappella del Sacramento</i> in Saint
+Peter’s, one has no sense of unreality. The bodies are human
+in form, but spiritual in their lightness and grace. The wings
+are strong and large, and yet so feathery as to seem almost
+transparent. The drapery falls and clings to and fits the
+body as a cloud might, and the face and action express a perfect
+and soul-filling adoration that finds expression in tireless
+worship and unending song of praise. These are the true
+“sexless souls, ideal quires.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This same strong religious feeling is shown with equal
+certainty in other figures by Bernini which are better known
+than his angels. These are the figures of saints which he
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>made in his middle and later years. The earliest of them,
+that of Santa Bibiana, done in 1626, when he was still a young
+man, shows in the arrangement and pose of the figure the
+influence of the antique. The technique exhibits the same
+magnificent ease and the same power of reproducing the
+various qualities of drapery and flesh and hair that we saw
+before in the Borghese groups, and there is in the face and
+gesture the expression of self-effacement in religious ecstasy
+that is the most noticeable quality of the later figures of this
+kind. As he grows older, these two characteristics of technical
+differentiation of surface and of ecstatic expression altered.
+While he lost no atom of technical power he tended to lay less
+stress on the appearance of the mere surface of his figures and
+to pay more attention to and show forth more clearly their
+mental condition. In doing this he brought into being figures
+as truly representative of the religion of his time as those of
+Michael Angelo or any other sculptor of any epoch.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Religious emotion must always call forth strong feeling,
+but the strength is sometimes shown in terms of apparent
+restraint, at others it shows itself in violent action. Athena
+Parthenos is as emotional as the Santa Theresa and Savonarola,
+and Luther is as violent as the Crusaders. The seventeenth
+century was a time when men thought it no shame to
+show their feelings. The Puritans showed them as clearly as
+the Italians, though in a less pleasant form. If to-day it is
+difficult to realize and sympathize with the sentiment shown
+in Bernini’s Sant’ Andrea, or Daniel, or Maria di Magdala, it is not because of our superiority, but rather because we have
+lost a very precious sense and power of spiritual levitation.
+Look at the Habakkuk. Is it not a splendid presentation of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>the prophet who was burdened with the grievance which he
+beheld, who saw for so long the righteous compassed about by
+a “bitter and hasty” race that he felt the Lord would never
+respond to his cry? But even as he complains the visible answer
+of the Lord appears, and the Angel with playful tenderness
+pulls at his hair so that his face is upturned to the light
+of Heaven, not any longer dark with earth’s despair, as he bids
+him write the vision of the Lord’s judgment that shall not
+tarry—write it so that he may run who readeth. And
+Habakkuk still points to the iniquity that blackens the world
+and the angel points to the inevitably approaching woe. It
+is superbly original. It is deeply felt.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The St. Jerome in the Duomo at Siena is another very
+striking figure; if it seems to most observers unpleasant,
+this is mainly because it does not conform to the conventional
+and uncharacteristic way they are accustomed to see Jerome
+represented. As a subject for artists he has been treated far
+more often by painters than by sculptors, and in the paintings
+the mere beauty of colour and of surroundings adds charms
+which are uncharacteristic of, and distract from, the real
+interest of the figure. When carved by Bernini, there is
+nothing but the figure to consider—whether it be suggestive
+of the real man as we know him by his writings or not. Probably
+most people if asked what image the name of the saint
+brought to their minds would recall the print by Dürer or
+some painting such as that by Catena in the National Gallery.
+But splendid as the print and the painting are, it is only by a
+pleasant fiction and by refusing to regard the truth that they
+can be thought to represent in any way the Saint as he was
+among men. They show a very gentle old man in the neatest
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>and quietest of surroundings, peacefully writing his comments
+on the scriptures.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It can hardly be supposed that his contemporaries regarded
+Jerome primarily as a peaceful and abstracted scholar. Surely
+Bernini did not, but instead shows us the unhappy wanderer
+and ascetic monk. Scholarship was only one phase, and
+among the people with whom he lived scarcely the most important
+phase of St. Jerome’s life. To his contemporaries he
+showed himself chiefly as an acrid controversialist taking a
+leading part in the “strife of tongues.” Unhappy in his
+Pannonian home, he spent a restless youth wandering over
+Europe, but instead of peace found only momentary forgetfulness
+in pleasures, the remembrance of which brought deep
+sorrow in his later years. Then he turned to asceticism and
+sought by living as an anchorite in the desert to conform
+himself to the teachings of his Lord. But the degradation of
+such a life, the unnatural and disgusting view it took of the
+image of his Maker and the temple of his soul, the morbid introspection
+and sterility of selfish self-mortification, brought
+him trouble and pain, not calm, till, at last, an old man, he
+died in Bethlehem thoroughly disheartened with the iniquity
+of the world and the horrors resultant on the destruction of
+Rome by the barbarians.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such is the man Bernini sets before us. The battered, wayworn
+feet; the strong, coarse body; the ragged, unkempt
+hair show the life he led. The face bending with closed eyes
+dreamily over the figure of the crucified Christ betrays his
+holy, misdirected zeal. What he was, and what he stood for,
+could not be shown more clearly than our sculptor has shown it
+here.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>Equally fine, and in certain ways more beautiful, is the
+statue of Daniel in the lions’ den, which Bernini made in
+1656 for Cardinal Chigi, who placed it with the Habakkuk in
+Santa Maria del Popolo. The youthful and splendidly built
+figure rests on one knee, his hands upraised in attitude of
+prayer, his head bent back with eyes wide open gazing upwards.
+From one shoulder, beside his body and over his legs,
+falls in wind-blown folds a single heavy mantle. A great
+lion crouches behind him, licking his foot. In its perfect
+physical beauty, in its not over-emphasised anatomy and in
+its entirely successful composition, by which great movement
+is given the appearance of completeness and stability, the
+figure is more closely allied to Bernini’s earlier works than to
+the mystical passionate figures such as the Jerome or Mary of
+Magdala or others of this period. It is unnecessary to dwell
+on the beauty of the figure and the technical skill it displays,
+for these can be seen by anyone whose eye and hand have been
+trained at all.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There is one less obvious point, however, to which I wish
+to draw attention, for it is as good an example as could be of
+what I have mentioned above. I refer to the way the legs
+show through the heavy drapery that covers them. The
+mantle does actually clothe the leg. It is not a mere addition.
+It takes its shape and movement from the leg beneath it.
+The one cannot be thought of without the other. Were the
+statue destroyed, and did only the right hip or left knee
+remain, one would instantly recognise what parts of the figure
+these were. But classic though the figure is in general appearance—it
+might almost be one of the Niobids—the
+feeling of absolute ecstatic faith is very clearly given in the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>upturned face and the reaching arms.<a id='r11'></a><a href='#f11' class='c015'><sup>[11]</sup></a> Now there have been
+times—great and noble times—when men did believe that
+God would send angels to shut the mouths of lions, and when
+men felt no fear, but only a carefree trust in His help if true
+innocency could be found in them.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such work is not baroque, nor decadent, nor over-emotional,
+as it is commonly and thoughtlessly said to be, but it is a
+very adequate and convincing representation of a powerful
+and uplifting spiritual condition. It is just as fine as the
+graver and more sombre figures of Greece, or as the sad and
+ponderous figures of Michael Angelo.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of all the figures of this period in Bernini’s development the
+most famous is the Saint Theresa (Plate IX). It is hopeless to
+express in words the great beauty of this figure. This can no
+more be done than the full perfection of any great poem can be
+rendered in a translation. The work is perfect in itself, and
+what of this kind can be shown in sculpture is here expressed
+with complete and ultimate adequacy. That most people
+are startled and shocked when they first see the figure is due
+to the fact that they do not think of what the scene really
+means, and they are not accustomed to seeing scenes of divine
+significance treated with perfect simplicity and pure faith.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p030a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate IX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>Not that such scenes ought not to be so treated, but few
+are the artists who feel deeply enough or whose technique is
+finished enough to enable them to represent a scene of this
+sort so clearly and beautifully. As a result, the artist falls
+back on forms which have been repeated so often that they
+have become conventional and no longer can give the beholder
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>the full impression of their meaning. No one is offended on
+seeing the Son of God bleeding on the cross around which
+surges a host of idle spectators, or at seeing Him in the manger
+before which all the nobles of Florence kneel in various theatric
+attitudes. But Saint Theresa is a figure new to them, and
+to have her shown in the crisis of her ecstasy with other figures
+looking on from the walls of the chapel, offends their “sense
+of propriety” and seems “paradoxical,” “perfervid” and “inconsequent.”<a id='r12'></a><a href='#f12' class='c015'><sup>[12]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Were this a fair criticism, a large number of the most
+beautiful works of Christian art would fall under the same
+condemnation. Far more paradoxical than Bernini’s figure
+are the representations of the Marriage of Saint Catharine,
+and they are quite as unpleasing if thought of in their literal
+sense. As for the figures looking at the Saint from the “opera
+boxes” at the sides of the chapel, it must be remembered that
+at this time most of the drama in Italy was founded on religious
+subjects, and such dramatic representation made a
+very deep appeal to men’s minds. The critics who find the
+Saint Theresa in bad taste do not hesitate to form part of the
+audience when Christ’s Passion is played among the hills of
+Oberammergau, and they will no longer be afraid to render
+Bernini the homage that is his due when they cease lazily to
+measure his work by conservative standards. The glory of a
+comet is not measured by the Eddystone Light nor a miracle
+by the conventions of ordinary society.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>One other point concerning this statue remains to be considered.
+A recent critic<a id='r13'></a><a href='#f13' class='c015'><sup>[13]</sup></a> says that “there are many ecstasies,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>and Bernini has chosen something that borders closely on
+the most displeasing.” In this he expresses a common opinion,
+based, I believe, on a misconception, and on ugly, puritanical
+prudishness. Possibly there are many ecstasies, but religious
+ecstasy, the ecstasy of the Saint in joining herself to the
+spiritual existence of Christ, and the pure and natural ecstasy
+of love when self is lost in the future of the race, are as nearly
+as possible identical. The Venus de Medici is far more displeasing
+than the Saint Theresa.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In one portion of the group Bernini certainly did fail, and
+in a way that is surprising. Usually his figures of angels are
+successful, but the one standing over Saint Theresa is assuredly
+very bad. Its figure is unconvincing, and its face, with tilted
+nose and silly smile, is more that of a Greek <i>paniskos</i> than of
+a heavenly messenger. But notwithstanding this blemish, no
+work by Michael Angelo or any other sculptor ever made the
+beholder forget so completely the substance out of which it is
+carved, and think only of the scene represented as Bernini has
+done here. He has given the softness of life to the snow-white
+stone. His hand and mind worked in perfect accord and
+produced a work unrivalled in technique and of very great
+beauty.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Another statue of similar character is the Beata Albertona.
+It is a little less delicate in treatment and more emphatic in
+expression than the Saint Theresa, but is, none the less, of very
+great beauty and power.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Were a man’s failures as worth study as his successes, I
+could mention works by Bernini which are distinctly bad.
+The Maria di Magdala is one. Though full of feeling, the
+figure of the Saint is coarse and clumsy. But though a man’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>defeats show, of course, the principles for which he stood, his
+victories are more worth considering and are the fairest test
+of him. A very false estimate of Michael Angelo would result
+if one considered the Rondanini Pietà, the David, or the
+Christ in Santa Maria sopra Minerva as of equal importance
+with his other works.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It was not only in works in marble that Bernini showed his
+power as a sculptor. He handled dark, impressive bronze
+with the same complete understanding of its qualities and
+possibilities that he showed in carving the gleaming Carrara
+marble. Such a work as the <i>Baldacchino</i> in St. Peter’s is
+beyond any words to praise. It is enormous, but not clumsy,
+and sumptuous without being ornate. The most stupendous
+of his bronze works is not, however, the <i>Baldacchino</i>, but the
+Throne, the <i>Cattedra</i> in the apse of St. Peter’s. It was in 1657,
+during the pontificate of Alexander VII, that Bernini was
+ordered to carry out his design for this work, and eight years
+later it was finished and uncovered to the admiration of all
+Rome.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This monument is too well known to need detailed description
+here, but it is well here to recall its purpose, which was
+not for actual ceremonial use by the Popes, but to serve as a
+frame, or strong-box, for the ancient chair of carved ivory on
+which tradition said, and the whole Catholic world then believed,
+St. Peter had himself sat. There in the heart of the
+greatest Christian Church, raised above the soiling earth,
+high in air for the thronging worshippers to behold, was to be
+the visible and material sign of infallibility. Bernini alone
+had the feeling that made him capable of such a task. Four
+magnificent figures of Doctors of the Church support the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>chair—two of the Western church, Saint Augustine and
+Saint Ambrose, and two of the Eastern, Saint Chrysostom and
+Saint Athanasius. Stately great figures; on their outstretched
+hands they hold the Throne with the ease that comes of perfect
+faith, raising it up even as sixteen hundred years before
+the Apostles had raised up this earth for the glory of God.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In all these religious works by Bernini there is beside the
+expression of the faith that begot them the expression of a
+decorative sense, something dramatic. He delighted in movement
+and expression for the mere sake of beauty of active
+form, and this feeling of joy in life, in the spirit of movement,
+whether in Nature or in Man, Bernini reproduced in a series
+of works which by themselves would make him unique among
+all sculptors and which give Rome a distinction and character
+far more decisive than her ruins or palaces and set her alone
+and apart from all other cities. These are the fountains.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The list of fountains is of amazing length. The Barcaccia
+in the Piazza di Spagna, one in the Villa Mattei, one in the
+Vatican Gardens, another in the Barberini Gardens, the
+Triton in the Piazza Barberini; the lovely shell which used
+to be on the corner of the Via Sistina, but has been destroyed
+to make way for modern improvements so called; in the
+courtyard of the Palazzo Antamoro, in the Piazza Navona,
+and the broad pool of the Fountain of Trevi. They have the
+infinite variety and infinite pleasantness of Nature herself.
+By the side of the placid pool whence the <i>ciociaras</i> draw the
+water for their flowers, or where the sparkling stream of the
+Triton shoots heavenward from the gray pavements like a
+white crocus from the frosty ground in Spring; where the
+Nile, the Ganges, the Plata and the Danube pour forth their
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>incessant floods, or where Neptune shepherds his foaming
+steeds over the rocks as they dash down into the pool that if
+we once drink from our hearts evermore yearn for the Eternal
+City—by each and all of his fountains our ears are filled with
+the pleasant voices of the waters and our eyes with the sight
+of the nymphs and nereids who gambolled among the watercourses
+when the world was young.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>What the secret of their charm? No one ever understood
+the artistic value of water as Bernini did. No one else ever
+held in check the full stream and gave it back again the ripples,
+and spurts and sudden rushes of its upper course and of its
+source. The angels must have washed his spirit in the fountain
+of eternal youth to enable him to express the joy which
+flowed through his veins in the undying music of the waves,
+moulding and combining them to his intention as a musician
+makes the rough strings of his instrument sing of the life
+that lies hidden in them till his knowing touch gives them
+voice.<a id='r14'></a><a href='#f14' class='c015'><sup>[14]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I have spoken of the groups representing classic myths,
+of the innumerable statues motived by religion and of the
+fountains, but even this huge mass of work does not come near
+completing the list of Bernini’s output. The numerous portraits
+remain to be considered. Some, such as the Constantine
+in St. Peter’s, were ideal, but most were of his patrons
+and friends and were of very varied types. There were colossal
+equestrian statues, ordinary busts, full-length figures
+and groups for tombs, and they show that he possessed just
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>as great skill in direct portraiture as in more purely imaginative
+work.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>To carve or paint a successful portrait, two powers are
+absolutely essential to the artist. On the one hand he must
+have the sympathy that will enable him to comprehend the
+sitter’s character, and to see what lines and expressions of the
+face express that character most clearly; on the other he must
+have the power of suppressing his own individuality and of
+lending his hand and eye, as it were, to the sitter to make the
+portrait himself. If the artist lacks sympathy, he will produce
+a work which may be correct in all detail of colour, line
+and modelling, but it will only be a sort of mask; if he lacks
+the power of self-suppression, the work will be unlike the sitter,
+even though true in detail, because it will show not his character,
+but that of the artist. Bernini illustrates these points
+with perfect precision, and as a result his portraits are unsurpassed
+by those of any other artist of the Renaissance and are
+far finer than the quaint efforts of the earlier sculptors which
+many students of art admire with the enthusiasm of decadence
+and a fatuous misunderstanding of both the value of art
+and the aim of the artist.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Just as it was fortunate for Turner that in his early years he
+was forced to draw with painstaking accuracy, so was Fate kind
+to the young Bernini in giving him to do, when he was but fourteen
+or fifteen years old, the portraits of two well-known Prelates.
+Success in these meant fame and an assured future for
+the boy. Like every genius he must have felt, with perfect
+simplicity, with no conceit, his power; but what must have
+been his feelings of tremulous satisfaction when, the busts unveiled,
+the crowd of Cardinals and Prelates who were gathered
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>to see his work, broke into enthusiastic applause? The cheering
+words of those long since silent voices echo again in our hearts
+as we look at these busts of the Bishop Santoni and of Monsignor
+Montoya, for two more perfect portraits can hardly be
+found.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>A mere child made them; a boy whom one could more
+easily think of playing at marbles in the sunlit street; but
+instead his playground is the Temple of the Lord and his toys
+the souls of men. The mere knowledge of anatomy and the
+technical skill they show is most unusual for one so young, but
+what shall be said of the spiritual insight of the artist who
+carved these two bowed heads with their sweet, strong, grave
+faces? The excellence of the ancient Greek, in certain forms
+of sculpture, has given us his name as an adjective to express
+one kind of superlative merit and these two busts can, with
+perfect accuracy, be called Greek. They are as like as can
+be to the bronze bust by some unknown Grecian sculptor
+which in the Museo dei Conservatori bears the name of Brutus.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>As in his other work, so in the making of portraits Bernini
+soon broke away from traditional methods and gave his own
+spirit full sway. This is evident in the bust of Costanza
+Buonavelli, his mistress, which is one of the treasures of the
+National Museum in Florence. It is not only the technical
+skill with which he gave the different qualities of the pleated
+dress, the round soft neck and cheeks and the blown tresses
+of waving hair that make this portrait so remarkable, but
+beyond this one sees in it the artist’s own human love for the
+actual woman and his delight in her as a suggestion of a beautiful
+work of art. This bust is unique among his works, for the
+woman who inspired it then, with thoughtless animal selfishness,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>killed the inspiration she had begotten. The bust is
+the tombstone for the most sensitive part of Bernini’s heart.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Among the other busts of his early years are one of his
+great patron Paul V (Borghese) and two of his steadfast friend
+Cardinal Scipio Borghese.<a id='r15'></a><a href='#f15' class='c015'><sup>[15]</sup></a> They are all of them noteworthy,
+but the finest is the first one he made of the Cardinal. In
+this the growth of Bernini’s dramatic feeling is very plain and
+is shown in a technical way which he repeated many times
+thereafter. It is this. He carves not alone the head and a
+small portion of the breast, but he gives the whole upper part
+of the torso and arms and skilfully suggests by the turn and
+position of this part the action of the whole body, so that as
+one looks at this bust of Scipio Borghese, one has the feeling
+of seeing not his head alone but his whole figure. The wonderful
+realism with which Bernini has rendered the crinkly
+silk cape and the rolling flesh of the fat face with the lips just
+parted as though the burly Cardinal were whistling for breath
+is obvious to the most casual observation; but realistic though
+the bust is, Bernini was skilful enough to give chief emphasis
+to the character of the sitter so that the impression that one
+takes away with one is not of the external appearance of the
+figure so much as of his nature and quality as a man. In many
+ways it closely resembles the portrait of Pope Innocent by
+Velasquez.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p038a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate X.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>Other portraits are to be seen not only in Rome, but in
+Modena, at Versailles and even at Windsor; for, as Bernini’s
+fame spread, the great people all sought him and even Louis
+XIV and Charles I were delighted to have the artist give them
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>that immortality which neither their deeds nor position could
+assure them. One of the quieter and less dramatic works is
+the beautiful bust of Monsignor Francesco Barberini. It is
+realistic like the Cardinal Borghese, but the realism is made
+subordinate to a higher aim and only used to emphasise the
+ideal character of the work.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Numerous as are these effigies by Bernini of Popes and lesser
+men, there are two which stand out above all the rest as unsurpassed
+in art and as combining and illustrating more fully
+than any others the character of the time, of the sitter and of
+the artist which, all together, made them possible. They are
+of Francis I of Este, now in Modena, and of Louis XIV (Plate
+X), at Versailles. The first was made in 1651, the second during
+Bernini’s visit to Paris in 1665. Only Bernini was capable
+of representing these two proud princes in all their splendour
+of ornamental wig, and lace and armour. It demanded technique
+such as his to make anything but a great lump of
+complex and ugly form out of such settings for the head as
+these; and he succeeded, to the unquestioned admiration of
+all time.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>That was an epoch when men liked theatrical display of
+all sorts, when what in these colder days seems exaggerated
+expression was natural and pleasing to people. Bernini knew
+and understood this, had often himself been employed in
+writing plays or arranging stage scenery, and has represented
+the two rulers just as they delighted to show and think of
+themselves, adorned with all that was rich and splendid,
+haughty and disdainful as was the nature of those endowed
+with the divine right of Kings. Even more than in the case
+of the portrait of Cardinal Borghese do these two busts seem to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>make us see the whole figure and yet they have an appearance
+of lightness that is most surprising. Not to be made again
+such busts—nor such men. Democracy, and a belief in
+equality as absurd as that in Kingship was overweening, have
+snuffed out all such pretensions, and have snuffed out the art
+too. But thanks to Bernini we have the record of them. We
+see them in their moment of splendid satisfaction and self-confidence,
+and made beautiful through mere enjoyment of
+their bubble reputation.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The final value of portraiture is that it should be characteristic
+of the person depicted. No matter how great the skill
+shown in giving Napoleon the appearance of a Greek athlete
+or Washington that of Olympian Zeus, such works are only
+folly and waste. Bernini made no such mistake, but with
+deep insight and unrivalled skill proved himself one of the
+greatest portraitists of all time.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I have spoken of Bernini’s versatility. I have considered
+in some detail the sculpture by which he is best remembered.
+Of his painting not much is left, and what remains is naturally
+not of any great value as art. Still less is left of his work as
+an organiser of plays and arranger of processions or carnival
+displays. A few drawings and engravings and some slight
+accounts by contemporaries give us an idea of this work of
+his, but it was the occupation of his more idle hours and is
+of little moment. Of his architectural work a good deal is
+still to be seen, though in many instances later workmen have
+added to or altered the original structure, which was almost
+always skilful and big in conception, though occasionally he
+made a mistake, as when he put the towers—asses’ ears his
+contemporaries called them—on the Pantheon.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>The structure by which Bernini is best known is the double
+colonnade of the Piazza of St. Peter’s. Of this his original
+sketch book still exists.<a id='r16'></a><a href='#f16' class='c015'><sup>[16]</sup></a> It is an intensely interesting record
+of the different schemes and plans which Bernini worked at till
+in the end he produced the splendid simple and grand design
+which gives Rome the finest public square in the world.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There are several sheets of drawings in the book, some showing
+Leonardesque studies of the relations between the proportions
+of the human figure and those of architecture, others show
+views down the Borgo from the church or looking up towards
+St. Peter’s with plans for the rearrangement of the district,
+and some are views and designs of various types of colonnade
+showing deep study of their perspective appearance. But
+of all these sketches, there is one of far greater interest than
+all the others, for it shows that insight into the deeper meaning
+of things which made Bernini the supreme genius he was
+(Plate XXX).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>On this sheet are two similar drawings showing St. Peter’s and
+the colonnade. Over these, as though they formed the head
+and arms of a cross, is drawn a bearded figure, his head crowned
+by the dome of the church, his arms outstretched on the colonnades
+and with his feet crossed slightly one above the other
+and resting just where, at the beginning of the Borgo, Bernini
+intended, as another of the sketches makes plain, to put a
+building. There can be no doubt, after seeing this drawing,
+that Bernini’s intention was to make the Piazza symbolic of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>Christ and the Crucifixion. Evidently not a mere builder
+of houses this man Gian Lorenzo Bernini, but somehow, and
+somewhence, he has got a poet’s vision and he makes his mark
+in the world not merely by moulded clay and shaped stones,
+but by shaping men’s hearts and moulding their ideas.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such was Bernini, one of the great artists of the world.
+It is true that he was revolutionary, but he destroyed not
+through ignorance or envy. He destroyed merely that he
+might then create. The arts in his day were strangled by
+academic rules and had become cold and lifeless. The intensity
+with which he felt things gave him strength to break
+these bonds and to make sculpture once more a means of
+conveying living thoughts and emotions. He was like the
+butterfly which tears away the stiff-plated chrysalis before
+it can spread its wings in the free air. It is useless to try to
+explain his technical skill; he was born with it, just as others
+are born with a keen sense of colour or a musical ear, but it is
+certain that without it he could never have carved such figures
+as the Saint Theresa or the portrait of Fonseca<a id='r17'></a><a href='#f17' class='c015'><sup>[17]</sup></a> which show
+intense emotion brought on by loss of all sense of self in the
+contemplation of the mystical meaning of the Passion. Such
+feeling could not be shown by restrained action and quiet
+faces. Much movement was necessary and the works are
+successful and beautiful because the feeling shown is perfectly
+simple and natural and not forced and put on for the sake of
+effect.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Bernini’s technical power made him, however, a bad master
+for others to imitate. Not that the work of his followers is
+any more inane than that of the copiers of Michael Angelo
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>or of those of any other great man, but his peculiarities were
+such as are at least superficially easy to see. Where he quite
+easily and simply distinguished between the appearance of
+silk or flesh, his imitators wasted their energies on elaborate
+arrangements, the only object of which was to show technical
+dexterity. Where he carved figures that are racked and torn
+with feeling, the imitators gave forms that are contorted and
+as unemotional as gymnasts. But he is not to be blamed for
+their work. By no means was he one of the blind leading
+the blind. He was the seer, the prophet, by odd chance honoured
+in his own home, whose visions were so believed by
+his followers that they vainly tried to see the like. What
+their eyes strained towards and failed to see, his heart yearned
+for and gained. To them praise was a prize to win, to him it
+was a spur to renewed effort and further advance. He had
+faults, as who has not, but they were due to his being a pathbreaker
+and having to find out for himself ways to carve and
+show figures such as no sculptor before him had ever dreamed
+of; they were not the faults of ignorance or stupidity. If it
+be well for us that we judge not lest we be judged, so too is it
+well, should we judge Bernini or other men, to judge not what
+there is in him of weakness or failure, but what there may be
+of noble intention and high endeavour. Doing this we shall
+see that Bernini, working always with bowed heart, but with
+uplifted spirit, broke down the middle wall of partition between
+art and life.</p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>
+  <h3 class='c004'>II. A COLLECTION OF SCULPTOR’S MODELS BY BERNINI</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>The clay models by Bernini, descriptions of which follow,
+form one of the most interesting artistic records left us of
+the sculpture of the Renaissance. Drawings made by the
+painters of that period to serve as studies for their pictures
+are not uncommon, but the sketch-models made by the
+sculptors are rare.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This is because sculptors carved the marble without any
+previous models, as Michael Angelo frequently did, or else
+that the models, being cumbrous and of material that was
+easily destroyed, have, in the course of years, been got rid of
+either intentionally or by accident. It may seem strange to
+suggest that the clay of which the sculptors may have made
+their studies is more liable to destruction than the paper
+used by the painters, but it must be remembered that while
+nothing is more durable than baked clay, air-dried clay is
+extremely perishable. Wax was also used by the sculptors
+for their preliminary sketches, but this, owing to expense,
+could never have served for work of any great size or quantity;
+and even if less apt to complete disintegration than
+unbaked clay, it is very liable to injury.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p044a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p044c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p044e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>What precisely was the origin of this collection of Bernini’s
+models we cannot tell; but it is our great good fortune that
+when they were made there was some one, perhaps one of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>Bernini’s pupils, who cared for them and saw to their being
+properly dried or baked so that they have preserved their
+pristine freshness. It is also extremely fortunate that their
+present owner realized their great beauty and extreme interest
+and added them to the artistic treasures stored in America,
+where they will serve in the ages to come to show students
+and sculptors a clear reflection of the mind of one of the
+world’s greatest artists.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the Museum at Berlin are other models by Bernini, but
+there is, so far as I know, no other collection, either public
+or private, that approaches the Brandegee Collection in number,
+variety or excellence of these works. In America I know
+of but one other model purporting to be by Bernini. It is
+in the Morgan collection and represents Pope Urban VIII,
+but it does not show a single touch by the master; it is an
+imitation, copied from the statue in the Campidoglio at
+Rome. In the collection of the late Mme. Edouard Aynard,
+sold in Paris, December 1–4, 1913, were two terra-cotta models
+of angels (lot 307) “<span lang="fr">attribuées au chevalier Bernin, d’après
+les originaux du port Sant Ange, à Rome</span>,” and one equestrian
+statuette in the same material (lot 308), said to be the “esquisse
+originale de la statue en marbre de Louis XIV, dans
+le parc de Versailles, par le chevalier Bernin.” The two
+angels are certainly not by Bernini; the portrait may be.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>From the artistic point of view these models are of the
+highest importance, for they show with startling clearness
+the great fertility of invention which characterized Bernini
+and the vivid way in which he visualized the creations of his
+brain. There is not a trace of effort in them, there is not a
+sign of rubbing out or doing over, but each group or figure
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>was obviously seen by him with the sharpness of a dream
+and reproduced by his skilful fingers in the fresh clay while
+the impulse and uplift of the vision was still on him.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The knowledge of the purely technical side of the art of
+sculpture which the models reveal is magnificent. The way,
+for instance, in which the various planes are treated in the
+oval relief of the Virgin and Child (Plate XXVI) is as subtle
+as, and very similar to, that of the reliefs on the ancient
+vases from Arezzo, while the relation of draped portions
+of the figures to the parts left nude, and the manner in which
+the body beneath gives life and meaning to the covering
+drapery, is as fine as any work by Pheidias.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>But the most fascinating and interesting characteristic
+of these terra-cotta figures is that one sees in every least
+portion of them how Bernini’s fingers, trained by long years
+of hard practice, played over the wet clay like wavering flame
+and moulded the dead material to enduring forms of beauty.
+Once more the old mythology comes true, and Pygmalion,
+taking the rough material offered him by Mother Earth, fondled
+it, and, warming it with the fires of his brain, gave it back the
+life that lies asleep till the lover’s kiss wakes it once again.</p>
+
+<h4 class='c016'>DESCRIPTION OF THE MODELS</h4>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 1.—<span class='sc'>Plate XI</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Seated female figure in high relief, wearing helmet, and heavily draped;
+the left cheek rests on the back of the raised left hand. Feet missing.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>For the tablet in memory of Carlo Barberini in Santa Maria d’Aracoeli,
+Rome.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Width 10 inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 2.—<span class='sc'>Plate XII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Figure of Longinus, in St. Peter’s. In the round, and gilded.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 20¾ inches.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p046a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XIV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p046c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p046e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XVI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p046g.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XVII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p046i.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XVIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>
+  <h5 class='c016'>No. 3.—<span class='sc'>Plate XIII</span>, <i>a</i></h5>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c017'>Two <i>putti</i>, for the decoration of the piers in St. Peter’s. High relief.
+The scale of measurement is scratched on the right edge. The wings are
+broken from the lower figure.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11⅛ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 4.—<span class='sc'>Plate XIII</span>, <i>b</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Another two <i>putti</i>, also for St. Peter’s. The scale of measurement is
+scratched on the left edge. The wings are broken from the upper figure.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11⅜ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>Nos. 5, 6, 7, 8.—<span class='sc'>Plates XIV, XV</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Four heavily draped bearded male Saints, for the <i>Ciborio</i> in the <i>Cappella
+del Sacramento</i> in St. Peter’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The figures stand on thin, square plinths, one of which (Height 10⅜
+inches; <span class='sc'>Plate XIV</span>, <i>a</i>) is unmarked, but on the other three are the names
+<i>Bartolomeo</i> (Height 10¼ inches; <span class='sc'>Plate XV</span>, <i>b</i>), <i>Tomaso</i> (Height 10⅜ inches;
+<span class='sc'>Plate XIV</span>, <i>b</i>), and <i>Filippo</i> (Height 10 inches; <span class='sc'>Plate XV</span>, <i>a</i>).</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The heads of all four are turned to the left, and the figures rest their
+weight on the right leg. The left arm of the Bartolomeo is gone, but was
+outstretched; the others all stretch out their right arm.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 9.—<span class='sc'>Plate XVI</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Bas-relief with half-figures of four men, and traces of architectural background.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>For the side wall of the <i>Cappella Borghese</i> in Santa Maria della Vittoria,
+Rome.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Width 17¼ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 10.—<span class='sc'>Plate XVII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Half figure of a Triton holding a draped woman on his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>For a fountain. The head and arms of the woman are gone.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 19½ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 11.—<span class='sc'>Plate XVIII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Front part of the head of a bearded man.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>For the Saint Jerome in the <i>Cappella Chigi</i> in the Duomo of Siena.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 13½ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 12.—<span class='sc'>Plate XIX</span>, <i>a</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Model (head missing) for the kneeling Angel on the left of the <i>Ciborio</i>
+in the <i>Cappella del Sacramento</i>, St. Peter’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11 inches.</p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>
+  <h5 class='c016'>No. 13.—<span class='sc'>Plate XX</span>, <i>a</i></h5>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c017'>Another model for the same figure. Tip of right wing missing.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11¼ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 14.—<span class='sc'>Plate XX</span>, <i>b</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Angel on the right of the <i>Ciborio</i> in the <i>Cappella del Sacramento</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Other models for these two Angels are mentioned by Fraschetti (p. 394),
+who also suggests that this angel on the right is not by Bernini, but “perhaps
+by Paolo Bernini, touched up by his father.”</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>I do not feel tempted to agree with this idea of Signor Fraschetti; there
+is no doubt whatever that this model of the right-hand angel is by Gian
+Lorenzo himself. Height 13⅛ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 15.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXI</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Nude figure of an Angel holding the Crown of Thorns. The head and
+feet are gone. The weight rests on the right leg.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Sant’ Andrea delle Fratte, Rome.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 13¼ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 16.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Angel holding the Crown of Thorns.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>This is the final model of the figure in Sant’ Andrea delle Fratte.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The action of the legs is the reverse of that in 15. Height 17½ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 17.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXIII</span>, <i>a</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Model for the Angel holding the Scroll. The tips of the wings are missing.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>In Sant’ Andrea delle Fratte.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11¾ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 18.—<span class='sc'>Plate XIX</span>, <i>b</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Another model for the same figure as No. 17; lacks the right leg, the
+head and most of the wings.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11⅛ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 19.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXIV</span>, <i>a</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Angel, perhaps for the ecstasy of Saint Theresa in <i>Santa Maria della
+Vittoria</i>, Rome. Right hand missing.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11½ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 20.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXIII</span>, <i>b</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Angel, draped, right leg bare, turning to the left. Part of right wing
+missing.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11½ inches.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p048a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XIX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p048c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p048e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p048g.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p048i.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p048k.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXIV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p048m.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p048o.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXVI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p048q.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXVII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>
+  <h5 class='c016'>No. 21.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXIV</span>, <i>b</i></h5>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c017'>Angel, draped, kneeling, head turned to right, right arm (hand missing)
+raised, left arm with open hand stretching downwards and outwards.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11¾ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 22.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXV</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Standing male figure, in high relief. Drapery hangs from the right
+shoulder, leaving torso bare but covering the legs with heavy folds. The
+left arm hangs down, and there was a palm branch in the now missing
+hand. The right arm is bent up with the hand over the chin. The head
+bends down and to the right. The figure rests its weight on the left leg.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The right side of the plaque is curved; the left side is straight, and on it
+is scratched a scale of measurements.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 16⅝ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 23.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXVI</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Oval bas-relief of the Virgin seated and looking down to right while
+holding the Child in her lap. High relief.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Very sketchy, but the most masterly of all these models.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 11 inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 24.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXVII</span>, <i>b</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Draped, standing female figure. She bends forward, turning to the
+left with arms (right arm missing) raised to support a slab that rests across
+her shoulders. The weight rests on the left leg. At her feet suggestion
+of a cuirass.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Study for the base of some monument such as the obelisk in the Piazza
+della Minerva. (Cf. Fraschetti, pp. 300–303.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 8½ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 25.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXVII</span>, <i>a</i></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Standing angel, heavily draped; the left knee is bent sharply backwards.
+The right arm is bent across the breast, the left arm (forearm missing)
+bent across the body lower down. The wings are missing.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 8⅝ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 26</h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>The Magdalen kneeling, and grasping the foot of the Cross.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>This figure is not by Bernini, and shows clearly the difference between
+the work of a master and that of an imitator.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Height 10 inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 27</h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Study of a hand.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Length 8 inches.</p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>
+  <h3 class='c004'>III. BERNINI’S DESIGNS FOR THE PIAZZA OF ST. PETER’S</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>The pen and ink sketches by Bernini for the construction
+and adornment of the piazza in front of the Vatican, together
+with the surrounding buildings, deserve to be more widely
+known than they are at present.<a id='r18'></a><a href='#f18' class='c015'><sup>[18]</sup></a> Any details regarding the
+history and growth of this part of Rome are of the deepest
+interest to those who study the intellectual development
+of mankind. Did we possess any record of the reasons why
+Pericles and his advisers placed the temples and other buildings
+on the Acropolis of Athens just as they did, we should
+have a clearer understanding of the character and ideals of
+Athens than we now have. So a study of these drawings by
+Bernini will show very distinctly that the present form of
+the piazza is due to no mere thoughtless and haphazard erection
+of colonnades and fountains, but is the result of a deeply
+considered plan and illustrative of a very large idea.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The drawings are carefully done with pen and ink on fourteen
+sheets of paper which were numbered by some old-time
+owner. These sheets have had the edges trimmed. Ten are,
+with slight variations, 14 by 6¾ inches. The others are, as
+will be noted later, of different sizes. All, however, judging
+by the paper and method of drawing, belong unquestionably
+to the same series. The drawings were mounted and bound
+together by the previous owner.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p050a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXVIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p050c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXIX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p050e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>The history of the drawings can only be guessed at. In
+this connection the following facts are to be noted. Bernini
+was officially appointed architect of the <i>Fabbrica</i> of St. Peter’s
+in 1680. After him Luigi Vanvitelli was head architect.
+With Vanvitelli there worked Andrea-Vici. In 1817 Vici
+left by his will to his friend the sculptor Canova drawings by
+Bernini representing the burial of the Countess Matilda,
+and Louis XIV on horseback. This legacy shows Vici to
+have owned original drawings by Bernini, and it is not improbable
+they had been given him by Vanvitelli. By the
+same will Vici left to his grandson Busiri his name and his
+studio, with all the original drawings by various masters
+therein contained. Consequently it is not a rash hypothesis
+that these drawings of the piazza came from Vanvitelli to
+Vici, and so to Busiri-Vici. Finally they were sold at auction
+in Rome in 1903. They are now in the Brandegee Collection.</p>
+
+<h4 class='c016'>DESCRIPTION OF THE DRAWINGS</h4>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 1.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXVIII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>This drawing shows the Orb; the Christian symbol of the world, surmounted
+by a cross.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The cross with the head and arms ending in curves like apses suggests
+the plan of a church, and the following drawings show clearly that the
+Orb and Cross were the fundamental idea in Bernini’s mind when he
+planned the <i>piazza</i>.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 2.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXVIII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>This is on a square piece of paper, similar in size to No. 1, and at present
+mounted on the same sheet at the left of No. 1. It shows the figure of
+a bearded man with arms outstretched as though on a cross. A curved
+dotted line stretches from hand to hand over the head and drops about an
+inch perpendicularly below each hand. This dotted line is a suggestion of
+the existing colonnades.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>That the figure is thought of as being on a cross is borne out by sketches
+that follow and also by the dot in the palm of the left hand which possibly
+represents a nail.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The sharp, broken lines with which the figure is drawn are characteristic
+of Bernini.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 3.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXIX</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>An outline plan of the church with the colonnades in front. It is to
+be noted the latter start at the corners of the façade of the church and
+project a short distance parallel to the main axis before curving to each
+side.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 6½ × 8¾ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 4.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXIX</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Similar to No. 3, but in greater detail. The figure of a bearded man
+represented within the plan of the church in the attitude of crucifixion.
+In the left arm of the colonnade is drawn the sun and in the right arm the
+moon and stars.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>This is pasted in the book at the left of No. 3.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 6⅝ × 8¾ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 5.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXX</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>This shows the same crucified figure as before. Over the head and
+below each hand is the dotted line seen in No. 2. Behind the head and
+arms is drawn with dots the elevation of St. Peter’s, the Vatican and the
+colonnades.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 6.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXX</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Similar figure to the preceding, but with the arms contorted so as to
+follow the straight portion of the colonnade (shown in No. 3) before following
+the curve. Behind the head the dotted outline of St. Peter’s and
+behind the figure’s left arm the colonnade and Vatican buildings laid in
+with dots and a few lines.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>No. 5 is at the right of No. 6, and the size of the sheet is 14&#8201;×&#8201;6¾
+inches.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>It should be noted that the figure is so placed in these two drawings
+that the dome of the church suggests a bishop’s mitre.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 7.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXI</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Outline elevation of the north half of the façade of St. Peter’s and the
+north colonnade, rising behind which is shown the Vatican Palace.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>On the left half of the sheet are faint pencil lines showing the south
+side of the colonnade and façade.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The sky is touched in with bluish white.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 14¼ × 6½ inches.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p052a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p052c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p052e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p052g.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXIV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p052i.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>No. 8.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXII</span></p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Two drawings of the north colonnade. These are similar to the preceding,
+but more elaborate (with shadows washed in in gray), as shown
+by dotted lines drawn to the eyes of outlined figures from various points.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>We find here the architect’s intention regarding the view from different
+positions.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 14⅜ × 6¾ inches.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>On the back of the sheet is a sketch of the door of St. Peter’s with the
+balcony where the Pope used to appear. I do not feel sure that this is by
+Bernini. There is also another sheet with a more detailed drawing of this
+door.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 9.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXIII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Similar to No. 8, but still more elaborate and larger; there is only one
+drawing on the sheet.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>In this design Bernini has altered the line of the colonnade. Instead
+of having, as in the preceding drawing, a straight portion projecting from
+the church, he has here drawn the colonnade in one large curve from the
+church outwards, putting an elaborate entrance to the Vatican Palace
+near the church. This entrance would have led to the Cortile di San
+Damaso.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 14&#8201;×&#8201;6⅝ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 10.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXIV</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Slight outline sketch of the outer end of the north arm of the colonnade,
+which is here made two-storied.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 13⅝ × 6⅜ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 11.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXV</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Interior of inner end of north arm of colonnade, showing the stairway
+as it exists at present. Size 14½ × 6⅜ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 12.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXVI</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Two sketches; one showing the plan, the other the elevation, of the
+Cortile di San Damaso.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 13⅝ × 6⅝ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 13.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXVII</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>View of the façade of St. Peter’s with both colonnades, which are two-storied.
+The sky is touched in with bluish white.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The buildings of the Vatican are also shown,—those on the right exist,
+those on the left are imaginary.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 14⅝ × 6¾ inches.</p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>
+  <h5 class='c016'>No. 14.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXVIII</span></h5>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c017'>View looking east from the front of St. Peter’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>On each side are the ends of the colonnades; they are in two stories,
+that on the right crowned with low clock-towers similar to the “asses’
+ears” once placed by Bernini on the Pantheon.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Beyond the piazza is the <i>Borgo</i> much reconstructed and made symmetrical.
+In the distance the Castel Sant’ Angelo.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 14⅜ × 6⅝ inches.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 15.—<span class='sc'>Plate XXXIX</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Two sketches in pen, washed with sepia, of the Borgo, looking towards
+St. Peter’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>These show different methods of treating the north arm of the colonnade.
+The one on the right shows the colonnade closing the view up the Borgo,
+the other shows an opening carrying the eye beyond and between St. Peter’s
+and the Vatican.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 14½ × 6½ inches.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The buildings shown exist in much the same form to-day. Even the
+fountain still serves.</p>
+
+<h5 class='c016'>No. 16.—<span class='sc'>Plate XL</span></h5>
+
+<p class='c017'>Plan of the piazza showing how it was intended to symbolize the orb
+of the world suggested on No. 1.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>In this sketch we see the circle within which is a dotted square. Within
+the square is a figure with arms and legs outstretched along the diagonals.
+At the top is written over a faint pencil outline of the church (perhaps
+not original) <i>San Pietro</i>. At the bottom is written twice <i>Piazza Rusticucci</i>
+and on a piece of paper pasted on is the plan of a building shown in No. 14,—one
+of the buildings intended for the reconstructed <i>Borgo</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>On the right and left of the figure are indicated the <i>Porta Angelica</i> and
+the <i>Porta Cavalleggieri</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>The dotted square within the circle is divided into quarters in which is
+written <i>Asia</i>, <i>Europa</i>, <i>America</i>, <i>Affrica</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Size 7¾ × 8⅝ inches.</p>
+
+<p class='c018'>These are the plans showing Bernini’s ideas regarding the Piazza of
+St. Peter’s. From a study of them we see how the circular piazza itself
+was intended to represent the world at large, while the colonnade symbolized
+the arms of the Cross. Crowning all was the great Church, founded
+by Him whose arms could embrace the whole earth, and from whose doors
+should stream to every quarter the promise of hope and love for which He
+died.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p054a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXVI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p054c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXVII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p054e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXVIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p054g.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XXXIX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p054i.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XL.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>
+  <h2 class='c005'>ASPECTS OF THE ART OF SCULPTURE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>
+  <h3 class='c004'>I. THE ART OF PORTRAITURE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>All students have noticed the similarity in style between
+certain Egyptian portraits and other works by ancient Roman
+as well as Florentine artists, and the resemblance in style that
+exists between Greek and Venetian portraits. Also there is
+a marked dissimilarity between the Egyptian-Roman-Florentine
+Group on the one hand and the Greek-Venetian Group
+on the other; and these two facts suggest the conclusion that
+the art of portraiture consists in something more than the
+mere photographic imitation in stone, or with paint, of the
+human face or figure. Were such imitation the essential
+factor in the art the only differences in portraits of different
+epochs would be those of ethnographic character. The special
+characteristics of portraiture as of the other arts at any given
+period are the result of the intellectual and material condition
+of the people to whom the artist belongs. Style, that is the
+distinguishing quality of the work of art, the quality which
+differentiates it from a work of another period or race, is the
+result, largely unconscious, of the relation of the artist to life
+and its effect upon him. The material, the means by which he
+gives expression to his endeavour at creation or representation,
+is of minor importance.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Sheik-el-Beled (Plates XLI, XLII) and the bust of
+Scipio so called (Plate XLIII) might almost be portraits of
+brothers; and the family is increased by a little Egyptian head
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>in the museum in Venice, and by some of the men immortalised
+by Donatello. So too Pericles as we see him in the bust by
+Kresilas seems separated by but a narrow margin from Giorgione’s
+Knight of Malta. And yet in blood, traditions, circumstances
+and hopes these men were the poles asunder.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>How then is this likeness of certain portraits to one another
+to be explained unless by the existence of some connection
+dependent on the temper of the artist?</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There is still another curious likeness and another difference
+to be noted among the carved and painted portraits of various
+epochs and schools. While the head of Corbulo is unlike that
+of Pericles in the æsthetic impression it gives, and that of
+Angelo Doni by Raphael also is æsthetically unlike the Duke
+of Norfolk by Titian, still the carved heads have a common
+bond as have also the painted ones.<a id='r19'></a><a href='#f19' class='c015'><sup>[19]</sup></a> They do not make the
+two broad groups into which I have, for the sake of making
+plain a general idea, divided portraits æsthetically similar,
+but they make plain when understood that painted portraits
+are necessarily different from carved ones—different in more
+than the mere fact that one is round and the other flat. The
+difference springs deep down from what is possible to attain
+by either art. The sculptor of the Pericles and the painter
+of the Norfolk both set before us the grave, elegant and
+stately face of a bearded man in middle life. Neither artist
+distracts our attention by bravura or technique or by realistic
+emphasis of detail. Though stylistically similar, these works
+still do not impress our minds in the same way. The following
+pages will be clearer if I say at once that this differing
+mental impression arises because in busts our attention is
+drawn chiefly to the mouth while in painted portraits it is
+turned on the eyes. This is due to the special laws of the
+technique by which the works are produced; given a painter
+and sculptor with the same point of view and the same mental
+tendencies, the portraits produced by them, even of the same
+person, though evidently expressing the same intellectual qualities
+both of artist and of sitter, are in modes of expression
+and certain external aspects necessarily unlike. In pursuing
+this investigation and in discussing the existence and nature
+of the various laws the governance of which I have suggested,
+the history of the rise and spread of portraiture must
+be kept in mind.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p058a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>Before the intention of the maker of portraits can be comprehended
+the motives that lead to the desire of the public
+or of private individuals to possess such work must be understood.
+In the main they are two,—one religious and one
+historic; to these may be added a third, that of sentiment
+and friendship. The religious cause is best illustrated by
+Egyptian statues, of which a large proportion were made
+to be placed in tombs. These are the earliest portraits of
+western origin which exist in sufficient numbers to afford a
+sound basis of criticism. The well-known dependence, in that
+country, of these works on religious prescriptions needs hardly
+more than passing mention. That the soul of dead mortals
+might, returning to this earth and to the tomb, find its accustomed
+corporeal dwelling place, portrait statues of the
+deceased were placed in the sepulchral chamber.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Holding this belief, it was only natural that the sculptors
+often made statues life-size, and as closely resembling
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>the dead original as possible, in order that the soul might
+find a shelter exactly similar to its original living one. Had
+they not been so made, the soul would have been troubled in
+its search. Work such as this was of course expensive and
+the mass of the people had to content themselves with smaller
+and less elaborate figures or with mere glazed figurines.
+But the more rare elaborate works show the ideal and serve
+as a sure guide in studying the conceptions and hopes of this
+or any people—just as the gold treasure from Mycenæ is of
+much greater value than all the terra-cotta vases in showing
+the life and thoughts of the time.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Other portraits of Pharaohs and their queens, of priests
+and generals, were carved on temple walls or set up to commemorate
+striking events, and these also were made realistic
+because of the egotistic idea that called them into being. Unless
+the person portrayed was carved realistically the commemorative
+value of the monument was lessened. These
+religious and commemorative ideas influenced the sculptors
+in their choice of material. Both the desire to make an enduring
+image of the dead for the sake of the soul that might
+return and the wish to make the memory of the person as
+enduring as possible led the sculptors to make use of the hardest
+stones; stones such as do not lend themselves to sculpture
+and such as are never used where the art develops in accordance
+with cultivated taste rather than special demand.<a id='r20'></a><a href='#f20' class='c015'><sup>[20]</sup></a> But
+though exactness of likeness was tirelessly sought for by the
+Egyptians (I refer of course to the earlier epochs before the
+influx of Greek or Roman ideas), it was not attained with the
+same success as in later days by the Romans and Florentines.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p060a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>This failure was in part due to the use of unyielding material,
+such as granite and basalt. Successful representation, in
+such stone, of the finer details of facial form, was practically
+impossible, and furthermore, owing to the dark and variegated
+colour of these stones, would have been scarcely noticeable
+could it have been attained. Hence the sculptors were led to
+practise a certain broadness of treatment that makes their
+work seem, to careless observation, like the Greek; but
+though one of the chief charms of Greek work is broadness, it is
+the outcome of very different causes and, if carefully studied,
+is seen to produce a very different effect from that of Egyptian
+work.<a id='r21'></a><a href='#f21' class='c015'><sup>[21]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Any phenomenon is due to mixed causes, and it must
+not be supposed that the use of hard materials alone led to
+breadth of treatment. The conventional position of the
+figures in Egyptian art (due in large measure to various non-æsthetic
+causes) was suited better by a broad and conventionalised
+treatment of the face than by more particular niceness
+in the rendering of its detail.<a id='r22'></a><a href='#f22' class='c015'><sup>[22]</sup></a> Religious feeling led to the
+placing of quietly posed statues in the tombs, and as regards
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>the figures of the great rulers whose word was law, attitudes
+expressive of the calm that results from absolute power were
+best fitted to express the current beliefs. These attitudes were
+also restrained in consequence of the refractory nature of the
+stones used.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is interesting to consider what would have been the development
+of sculpture in Egypt had the art been freed from the
+necessity of conforming to the demands of religion and contemporary
+history. One searches in vain among the masses of
+Egyptian sculpture for the expression of the individual sculptor’s
+emotions. We do not even know the names of the sculptors.
+They were not noted by their contemporaries nor did interest
+in their work lead them to sign it. Sculpture in that antique
+land was not a fine art in the sense of being chosen by men of
+special tastes and feeling to express the enjoyment felt by
+them in certain forms. It was a highly developed handicraft,
+a technique pursued by rule. As illustrative of the character,
+the life and the thought of the people portrayed it is allied to
+Roman work rather than to Greek.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Religion is seen to influence portraiture in another way.
+Many pictures, the subjects of which are religious, by Botticelli,
+Ghirlandaio and others, are filled with portraits, but these
+are essential to the composition, and are thought of as figures
+first, as portraits afterwards. But there are many sacred
+pictures of the Renaissance in which, with varying degrees
+of simplicity and frankness, a portrait of the donor of the
+painting is inserted not as an essential part of the composition
+but because of the desire of the donor to secure lasting recognition
+of the fact that he had fulfilled his religious vows and
+duties. It was an accepted proof of respectability in this
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>world and might possibly help in the next. Neither in Egypt
+nor in this class of pictures of the Renaissance are the works
+thought of primarily from the point of view of being artistic
+reproductions of the human face, but they are means to an end.
+They are in fact symbols. Work of this sort is so rare in
+Greek or Roman art that it may be considered as practically
+non-existent.<a id='r23'></a><a href='#f23' class='c015'><sup>[23]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The personal portrait, the portrait made for the sake of
+gratifying the self-esteem of the person represented, is well
+exhibited in Egyptian work in the bas-reliefs illustrating the
+conquests of the Pharaohs and in the colossal statues erected
+in a spirit of pride and self-glorification such as was exhibited
+again by the Romans. Such portraits as these are a certain
+indication of the all but universal desire for glory and fame.
+They are an expression of the same confident spirit that leads
+the owners of great buildings to carve their names over the
+entrance and are produced in large numbers only during periods
+when individuals seek eagerly for personal recognition.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such periods occur when large stores of money are possessed
+by private persons; then religious beliefs grow faint, in men’s
+if not in women’s<a id='r24'></a><a href='#f24' class='c015'><sup>[24]</sup></a> minds, and the quiet and enduring appreciation
+of a few objects gives way to the excited pursuit of constant
+novelty in enjoyment. Consequently instead of being
+content with philosophic moderation men attribute an untrue
+value to mere possession, and, since money can buy many
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>material things, come to the false conclusion that he who
+has the most is to be ranked among the world’s greatest
+sons.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>But the qualities needful for amassing riches are by no means
+rare and in the main are correlated with lack of interest in the
+Past and with undeveloped imagination. Hence ignorant
+of, or at least not sympathetic with, the more subtle but more
+effective types of men who work not with money but with
+personal character, the wealthy naturally come to think of
+themselves as individually interesting and important, and in
+consequence their portraits are made in every shape and size.
+Such works cannot, as regards the person portrayed, be of
+much interest, and are usually ugly, because the lives and occupations
+of people invariably affect the forms and expressions
+of their faces. The exceptions to this rule are the portraits
+of such men as Lorenzo dei Medici, or others of our own day
+who use their inherited or acquired wealth in the patronage of
+the arts and sciences—who use their powers indirectly for
+the cultivation of ideals.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such portraits as these are of varying character. They may
+be public, put up, that is, by a grateful and flattering people
+to commemorate a ruler or chief citizen, as in the case of
+Gattamalata in Padua and Colleone in Venice; or they may
+be of purely private interest and intended only for the eyes of
+the successive generations of the family to which the person
+depicted belongs. But public or private, in the one case as
+in the other, the desire for them being due to personal regard
+and love of fame, an accuracy in the reproduction of feature
+is sought that distinguishes them clearly from portraits
+made with other less worldly motives.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p064a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>It is known of course that this desire for fame stirred the
+hearts of oriental potentates long centuries before the beginning
+of connected history. But in that classic part of the
+ancient world with which we are intimately related, it does not
+become specially noticeable till the time of Alexander. It
+was an active factor in life during the existence of the Roman
+world, and again in the Renaissance. One of the phenomena
+most indicative of this aspiration is the character of the monuments
+placed on graves, and particularly the inscriptions on
+such stones. On the Greek grave stones we find often enough
+the name of the deceased but rarely if ever any intimate notice
+of his life. On Roman and Renaissance monuments, on the
+other hand, the length of life, and the honorific offices held, are
+all given with wearisomely full detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Portraits made for friendship’s sake are uncommon and do
+not, I believe, occur before the time of the Renaissance.
+Then one hears of friends sending their portraits to one another.
+In Rome a somewhat similar custom was practised to
+a certain extent, as is shown by the portraits on rings and
+cameos. Such work, meant as it was for personal adornment,
+must have been, at least in part, inspired by the tender regard
+of friend for friend. But it seems not to have been a common
+custom in the ancient world; just why it would be hard to
+tell, for no more inviolable friendships have ever been known
+than those told of in ancient history and drama, nor more
+tender feeling than is expressed in many of the inscriptions
+on ancient tombstones. Perhaps it was that the house
+architecture of those days was but little adapted to the displaying
+of such objects, and the collection by private individuals
+of things was but little practised except in Rome, and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>even there collectors were comparatively few. However
+this may be, the fact remains that the portraits of the
+ancient world were in the main religious or commemorative,
+and the idea of friendship being maintained or strengthened
+by the possession of the dumb semblance of absent dear
+ones seems to have grown and spread with the Christian
+religion.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>At first sight it appears as if there were three ways of making
+portraits—the sculptor’s, the painter’s, and the writer’s.
+It is not however in any true sense a portrait that a writer
+sets before us. This is beyond his power to accomplish. He
+is unable, that is, to give various readers such impression of
+the look and carriage of the person described that they can inevitably
+recognise him in the passing crowd. Continuous
+and sequent events may be described by words, but they cannot
+show instantaneously isolated images. Masters of style
+can call up visions to the mind by well-selected epithets, but
+such visions are typical rather than actual; and they are
+of scenes of considerable scope, or of actions of dramatic
+quality, rather than accurate images of facial form and expression
+such as in the only true sense of the word, can be
+called portraits.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>So far as art in the sense of reproduction is concerned, it is
+evident that language can be used for description, for suggestions
+of moods and general conditions, but not for showing
+in a sharp and quickly defined manner a given scene or object
+at a given moment. When Shelley speaks of</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The obscene ravens, clamorous o’er the dead;</div>
+      <div class='line'>The vultures to the conqueror’s banner true</div>
+      <div class='line'>Who feed where Desolation first has fed,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And whose wings rain contagion,—</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p066a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLIV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>he calls to mind most vividly conditions consequent on war,
+but before no two readers of the lines will the same visions
+rise. To see such horrors as Shelley writes of, presented so
+that all beholders will regard them in the same way, we must
+turn to such a work as Turner’s Rizpah.<a id='r25'></a><a href='#f25' class='c015'><sup>[25]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Greeks, it is interesting to note in this connection, recognised
+this limitation of the power of words and rarely tried
+to delineate the actors in their poetry and drama by other
+means than the description of traits of character. It may be
+said that the Greeks also did not attempt landscape in their
+writing. True, but we have every reason to know that the
+Greek mind was not interested seriously in beauties of landscape,
+while we know that it was deeply concerned with the
+characters and actions of individuals. Landscape was not
+studied by the Greeks as an end in itself, whereas portraiture
+was. Hence the absence of an attempt at portraiture in their
+literature by other means than description of character is the
+natural result of their mental tendencies. Such description
+can of course be accomplished by language with greater certainty
+than by sculpture or painting. It can give such an
+impression of the nature of a person that there is no more
+room for doubt concerning the qualities that constitute that
+nature than there is concerning the colour of eyes that have
+been put on canvas by some painter. Take any example
+and it will appear that when an author tries to stir the imagination
+to form an image of a character, he does it mainly by
+describing carefully his nature rather than his personal appearance,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>and when he attempts to do more than this, he suggests
+inevitably a different vision to every reader. Shakespeare’s
+sonnets are sufficient evidence of the truth of these
+statements.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I should not wish to imply that writers, even the greatest of
+them, do not sometimes attempt to depict persons by elaborate
+descriptions, but a comparison of any two illustrated editions
+of an author will show my contention to be correct. The inefficiency
+of the means and the inadequacy of the result has
+been recognised by the masters of literature. And it needs
+but to compare a word portrait with a painted one of the same
+person to be convinced of the painter’s greater power in this
+work. Take Shelley’s lines describing the crazed musician:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>There the poor wretch was sitting mournfully</div>
+      <div class='line'>Near a piano, his pale fingers twined</div>
+      <div class='line'>One with the other, and the ooze and wind</div>
+      <div class='line'>Rushed through an open casement, and did sway</div>
+      <div class='line'>His hair, and starred it with the brackish spray;</div>
+      <div class='line'>His head was leaning on a music book,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And he was muttering, and his lean limbs shook;</div>
+      <div class='line'>His lips were pressed against a folded leaf</div>
+      <div class='line'>In hue too beautiful for health, and grief</div>
+      <div class='line'>Smiled in their motions as they lay apart—</div>
+      <div class='line'>As one who wrought from his own fervid heart</div>
+      <div class='line'>The eloquence of passion, soon he raised</div>
+      <div class='line'>His sad meek face and eyes lustrous and glazed</div>
+      <div class='line'>And spoke—sometimes as one who wrote and thought</div>
+      <div class='line'>His words might move some heart that heeded not</div>
+      <div class='line'>If sent to distant lands.—</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>As a portrait the failure of these verses lies in the fact that
+the attention of the reader is hurried on from point to point
+like a storm-driven bird and never allowed to rest. Look, for
+half the time it takes to read the lines, at Titian’s Concert, and
+you have a much more definite image of a musician. It is
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>just because of this unrest of the attention, due to continued
+introduction of some new feature of importance, that poets
+and writers of prose are much more successful when they endeavour
+to reproduce a landscape, for it is a natural tendency,
+as we look at any scene of nature, for the eyes to wander over
+the hills and far away. They cannot seize the essential
+points instantaneously and they cannot apprehend the interrelation
+of the details as when they look at a person’s face and
+figure.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Sometimes the poet—it is generally a poet, for the epithets
+that poets use are apt to be more carefully chosen and so
+have greater graphic force than those of prose writers—seems
+to succeed in portraiture, but if you will consider closely, it
+will be seen that the success is fictitious. It is due to our
+having a ready-formed picture of the character of the person
+described which is suited by the poet’s words, as in Browning’s
+lines:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>You know we French stormed Ratisbon,</div>
+      <div class='line in4'>A mile or so away</div>
+      <div class='line'>On a little mound Napoleon stood</div>
+      <div class='line in4'>On our storming day</div>
+      <div class='line'>With neck outthrust, you fancy how,</div>
+      <div class='line in4'>Legs wide, arms locked behind,</div>
+      <div class='line'>As if to balance the prone brow</div>
+      <div class='line in4'>Oppressive with its mind.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>But to one who had never seen a picture of Napoleon what
+image would these lines give? Or, take Lowell’s lines on
+Lincoln. Not a word in them concerning the outward appearance
+of the Martyr Chief; but the attempt, successful to
+the uttermost, is made to impress on the reader’s mind what
+there was of him to think of, not to look at:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>Wise, steadfast in the strength of God and true.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>These epithets offer no suggestion that can be visualised, nor
+is there when we note</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>... that sure mind’s unfaltering skill</div>
+      <div class='line'>And supple tempered will</div>
+      <div class='line'>That bent like perfect steel to spring again and thrust.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c020'>And then finally, to sum up:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>Here was a type of the true elder race,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And one of Plutarch’s men talked with us face to face.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c020'>Vivid and eloquent as all this is, it offers no picture of the tall,
+gaunt President. It is but a suggestion of mental conditions.
+It does not show the deep-set eyes, sorrowful with the sorrows
+of two races, or the firm mouth lined with the humour that
+helped him to bear his burden of care. Plutarch himself does
+not show us Cæsar, or Pericles, or Demosthenes or any other
+worthy, as the sculptors do.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Possibly it might be suggested that in such poems as those
+quoted the writer had no intention of giving a suggestion of
+the outer husk that hides the inner man; but there is one class
+of poems—the love lyrics—in which the passion-driven bard
+would surely, could it be accomplished, give the immortality
+of portraiture to the beloved. But those “dear dead women,”
+the ever-renewing Spring brood of Sappho, Chloris, Lesbia,
+Lalage and Doris, are but the vague dwellers of dreamland.
+Sometimes they are dark and sometimes fair; they have cheeks
+that shame the rose, and eyes whose glance overwhelms as
+does the bolt of Jove; their brows are white as driven snow,
+and a nest for little loves is in their bosom—but can we ever
+be sure that we recognise from such description each particular
+Lesbia as, waiting and watching at the corner, we hopefully
+murmur “She comes, she’s here, she’s past”? Such
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>words as these form a portrait only for that one love-stung
+heart that beats the overtone to the note of Lesbia’s
+footfall.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>No, the writer cannot, in any adequate sense, place before
+us portraits.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Literature being excluded as a means of portraiture, it
+remains to consider sculpture and painting. In order to
+understand why painted and carved portraits showing similar
+types with equal distinctness and emphasis produce very
+different effects on the observer and hold his attention in
+different ways, study must be made of the different results
+possible to attain by these arts. If these general propositions
+in regard to the two arts be true, the demands and characteristics
+of portraiture will become plainer.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The fundamental distinction between sculpture and painting
+lies in the fact that the former concerns itself not always, but
+primarily, with light and shadow and fully modelled forms, while
+the latter deals chiefly with colour. Furthermore, painting
+works in two dimensions, while sculpture exercises herself
+with three. Hence, figures in positions that are much contorted
+or groups that are complexly organised in retreating
+planes are unsuitable subjects for a painter, inasmuch as he
+cannot represent them clearly except at the expense of infinite
+labour. If the sculptor, on the other hand, chooses
+such subjects, he is not hampered by the difficulties that
+block the painter’s path. His finished work can be looked at
+from all sides, and he is not liable to the painter’s risk that his
+final effect may, perhaps, be ruined by a misuse of light and
+shade or by faulty drawing and perspective.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The advantage, however, is not altogether on one side. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>sculptor has this other difficulty to contend with, that the
+appearance of his work will change with every change of light.
+The painter can fix whatever light he pleases on his canvas.
+As the appearance of the sculptured work will vary with the
+light, the sculptor can attain but partial success in the representation
+of figures or scenes in which much active emotion
+is shown in the faces. But in such scenes as these a painter’s
+power can well be shown, since, owing to his ability to paint
+any power of light (except, of course, direct sunlight), and his
+power of placing the various figures of a group in various
+lights, and by means of varied tints and lights being able to
+bring sharply into notice any expression of the face, he can
+well depict most violent emotion. It will be found, I think,
+that the sculpture which is most successful deals with groups
+or figures whose meaning is made clear by action and by the
+form of the body as a whole, and the paintings that are most
+successful are those in which effects of chiaroscuro, colour and
+facial expression are the most satisfactory method for making
+the figure intelligible. Several facts which will be readily
+acknowledged show the truth of this statement. For instance,
+Veronese, Rubens, Tintoretto, Velasquez when painting scenes
+the interest of which depends on the individual figures appearing
+in them (not such scenes as Paradise, Hell or battles
+where the interest is in the masses and spaces), compose them
+mainly in one plane. Also if single heads be taken from pictures
+and from sculptured groups, it will usually be found that
+the former give a fuller impression of the artist’s intention
+than the latter.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p072a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>Every rule has exceptions and among Michael Angelo’s
+sculptures are works in which he sought to reproduce effects
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>of light and shade and expression that if given by painting
+would have been more successful because the latter would
+have expressed the artist’s intention more clearly; and in
+certain of his paintings he attempted effects of form that
+could be given more satisfactorily by sculpture. Done by any
+less a genius than Michael Angelo, such work would be either
+ineffective or laboured. Done by him one can but marvel
+at his mastery over the sister arts that enabled him to approach
+so closely to the effects proper to the one while using the means
+offered by the other. But such success as he attained does not
+prove soundness in the principles that led him to make the
+attempt. A <i>tour de force</i> is but the attempt to attain a result
+by means other than the best. It may be successful, but it
+must be unsatisfactory. It is unreal, impractical; it is a
+form of jugglery!</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>To see how similar scenes are treated in the two arts, compare
+the group of Niobe and her Children with the Massacre
+of the Innocents as painted by the Renaissance artists.<a id='r26'></a><a href='#f26' class='c015'><sup>[26]</sup></a> In
+such comparison trivial details must not be too much regarded,
+for of the Niobe group there consists but one incomplete set
+of copies of the original figures and of the Massacre of the
+Innocents each one of us probably considers a different artist’s
+conception of the scene most effective. But the general
+impression given by Niobe and her children is that of bodies
+driven into violent motion by fright, what might be called
+frightened motion; the figures are rushing from one spot to
+another in search of safety; they bend and cower in terror of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>the peril. They are the incarnation of dread of physical
+suffering. The impression of the Massacre of the Innocents
+is one of faces contorted by horror. The action of the bodies
+is of less concern. The attention is drawn to the eyes, the
+mouths, the hands, the three chief outlets of mental feeling.
+The sufferers in the scene are moved by the horror of unjustifiable
+slaughter. They are the incarnation of anger, revolt
+and despair induced by the sight of pitiless massacre.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In portraiture the painter and sculptor are drawn together
+because the greatest interest of the work is centred in the
+face, which is the clearest index of thoughts and emotions.
+Both sculptors and painters even when making figures of life
+size are limited in portraiture to seeking their chief effects in
+the treatment of the face. But though so far working in
+common, the painter and sculptor still have different aims;
+for that part of the head the expression of which can be more
+strongly accented and more completely reproduced by the
+use of colour and a chosen shade and light, is the eyes; while
+that part the expression of which can be most adequately
+rendered by modelling is the mouth. This is the reason why
+portraits similar in style, such as those above mentioned, the
+bust of Pericles, and the painting of the Duke of Norfolk,
+attract our attention in different ways. In the bust the most
+noticeable feature is the firm but sensitive mouth, in the painting
+it is the steady, but vivid, eye.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Mindful of these conditions that govern the art of portraiture
+we find it easy to see how the artists of various epochs
+have conformed to them. This may seem to be putting the
+cart before the horse; to be fitting the facts to the theory.
+But it is not so,—it is merely searching for proof of a working
+hypothesis. The theory was suggested by the phenomena
+and it will be seen to explain these phenomena.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p074a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLVI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>The study of Greek sculpture is at present seriously hampered
+by statements and beliefs concerning it which arose
+at a time when its place in the history of art was very inaccurately
+understood. These have been repeated so often that
+they are frequently accepted without being critically weighed
+in the light of recent knowledge. It is a unique and very
+perfect art, but the causes and qualities of its perfection are
+sometimes misunderstood. Justifiable admiration has out-weighed
+the critical faculties. It is generally thought to be
+more imaginative and ideal than is in fact the case. The
+quality of realism is not usually attributed to such a work as
+the portrait bust of Pericles. And yet this bust is quite as
+realistic, though not so prosaic, as that of the Roman general
+Corbulo. I mention these two because they are very generally
+known; but many others such as the Demosthenes, Sophocles,
+Cæsar, Caligula would do equally well. The word realism is
+reserved too much for those works in which the artist has
+represented the forms that would be first noticed by the casual
+observer and, in this limited sense, the Corbulo is far more
+realistic than the Pericles; but realism is just as truly displayed
+in works in which the forms, while reproducing those of
+the model, may perhaps not be the most obvious ones and
+though the juxtaposition of them be not their most common
+combination. In this sense the Pericles is as realistic as the
+Corbulo. Greek realism in portraits deals chiefly with faces
+and figures in repose; Roman realism deals in the main with
+faces and figures in action.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is noteworthy that portraiture was a late development of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>sculpture in Greece. We know, for instance, of no contemporary
+portraits of Solon or Peisistratus, and there exist in
+museums and private collections extremely few busts or statues
+of the period preceding the middle of the fifth century
+<span class='fss'>B.C.</span>, that have the character of portraits. One reason of this
+doubtless was the feeling that the success which brought fame
+in its train was due more to the Gods than to the individual.
+The individual was an accident in the exhibition of beneficent
+power by the Gods, and consequently, so far as form and feature
+are concerned, was of no special interest. Furthermore,
+there was the feeling that the fame of individuals was due to
+and a part of the fame of the whole state; hence the individual
+was not apt to overestimate his own value nor to be thought of
+by his neighbours with any such feeling of special respect as is
+expected by, and often granted to, those who are “self-made.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Over and above these causes was another which must
+have been largely responsible for the late development of
+portraiture and for its character when it began to be common.
+This was the Hellenic love of beauty. Divided though the
+Greeks were into numerous states, they were held together
+by bonds of language, tradition, religion and politics. But
+the bond that united them more strongly than all others, even
+than their hatred of barbarians, was their love of beauty.
+“Beauty the first of all things” says Isocrates “in majesty and
+honour and divineness. Nothing devoid of beauty is prized.
+The admiration of virtue itself comes to this, that, of all manifestations
+of life, virtue is the most beautiful.” The consequence
+of this feeling was to make the individual and imperfect
+man uninteresting to the artist while the general and typical
+figure became his supreme aim. When at last in the fifth century
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span><span class='fss'>B.C.</span> portraiture became more frequent than it had previously
+been, the perfect portrait was the one which gave most
+completely the impression of the general character of the man
+and not the one which gave the most vivid and striking representation
+of the separate features of his face.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Curiously enough the first portrait we hear of in Greece
+was a caricature of the poet Hipponax by Bupalos and Athenis,
+artists of the sixth century <span class='fss'>B.C.</span> While caricature was attempted
+as early as this, as is shown by the drama, by terra-cotta
+figurines and by vases such as those from the sanctuary
+of the Kabeiroi in Bœotia, it may be questioned whether such
+a portrait of Hipponax ever existed. The details of the story,
+such as the suicide of the artists owing to the satirical attacks
+of the poet, are scarcely credible, and if we remember the very
+strange and unlifelike appearance of archaic art it seems not
+improbable that the story arose in the attempt to explain
+some rude statue the true intention of which had been long
+forgotten or had not been clearly indicated. Even were it
+certain that such a caricature did once exist, the knowledge
+would be of no great interest, because caricatures are but a
+debased form of art. They are only the exaggeration of accidental
+physical peculiarities. If the traces of a warped or ill-developed
+character show in the face or figure, the representation
+of them may be made a caricature, but almost all
+so-called caricatures show not oddities of character but deformities
+of person. It is in literature, in the works of Molière
+or Shakespeare, rather than in sculpture or painting, that we
+find true caricatures. Not that they do not exist in the plastic
+arts, but the literary art lends itself more readily than the
+others to this mode of representation.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>Whatever the actual facts regarding the reported portrait
+of Hipponax may have been, it is not till about the first quarter
+of the fifth century (circ. 500–475) that we have undoubted
+evidence of portraiture. To that time belongs the bust of a
+bearded man wearing a helmet, in the Glyptothek in Munich.
+A replica of this work exists in the collection of Barrone Barracco
+in Rome. These two heads may well be copies of a
+statue of some victor in the games. As is known, portrait
+statues were allowed only to thrice victorious athletes, and
+they were erected not so much as an honour to the victor
+as to keep fresh the memory of one who had thrice been
+cherished by the Gods. But this rule governing the making
+of statues of athletes clearly shows what deep significance
+a statue was considered to express and the secondary
+importance to the Greek mind of keeping a record of personal
+appearance. Whether of a victor or not, the bust referred to
+belongs to the early period of development of the technique
+of sculpture, before it had been perfectly mastered, when the
+artist was able to represent not what he wanted to but what
+he was able to. Hence it is conventional; so much so that
+were it not for the helmet and the absence of any attribute of
+Divinity we could hardly be sure that it was intended as a
+portrait.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p078a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLVII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>Probably the best known example of portraiture produced
+during the period when the technique of sculpture was thoroughly
+understood and mastered, is the head of Pericles by
+Kresilas to which I have already made reference (Plate XLIV).
+It is a work of special importance owing to the interest attaching
+to the character of Pericles, but more particularly from the
+artistic point of view; and fortunately there exist several
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>careful copies of it. These make us sure what its artistic
+character was,<a id='r27'></a><a href='#f27' class='c015'><sup>[27]</sup></a> and furthermore Pliny has handed down to us
+an estimate of the original work by a critic of the ancient
+world. This critic expressed concisely and epigrammatically
+the intention that is manifest in all Greek work of the best
+time, in saying that the bust of Pericles by Kresilas shows how
+art can make a noble man still nobler.<a id='r28'></a><a href='#f28' class='c015'><sup>[28]</sup></a> Now this can only
+be said of the best Greek and Italian work. And all work, no
+matter where or by whom produced, if wrought in the spirit
+which was shown more by Greek sculptors and Venetian
+painters than by other artists, may be described by such words.
+Such a criticism could not be made of most Roman or Florentine
+work. It can only be said of work in which the attempt
+is successfully made to suggest a perfected type by the improvement
+of an individual example, not of work the intention of
+which is to represent the individual example as the embodiment
+of special peculiarities with indifference as to their
+excellence or defects.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The method adopted by Kresilas is not difficult to analyse.
+The character of Pericles was a rare and happy mixture of
+calmness, foresight, perseverance and sensitiveness. His
+power of understanding men and conditions, together with his
+quiet and steady pursuit of his aims, is shown by the course
+of his political policy. His sensitiveness is made clear by his
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>unselfish ambitions, by his delight in works of the fine arts and
+by his chivalrous conduct towards Aspasia, whom general
+opinion, not confined to the ancient world, would have allowed
+him to disregard and forget, when for the sake of giving
+offence to him the populace attacked her character. Such was
+the man whom Kresilas had to portray, and with high artistic
+perception he chose his means.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Kresilas, we can well understand, might have shown us Pericles
+the warrior, or Pericles the orator, or Pericles the lover of
+philosophy and the arts, and in doing so might have given a more
+striking impression of one or more of the special qualities by
+which his contemporaries were impressed. Instead of this he
+succeeded in setting before us the complex of all these qualities,
+and many more, that formed Pericles the man. The helmet
+lifted back from the face reminds us of his military career but
+does not force this on our attention.<a id='r29'></a><a href='#f29' class='c015'><sup>[29]</sup></a> The expression of the
+face is not in the least dreamy but is thoughtful and grave;
+an expression which, considering his life and friends, must
+have been habitual when he was in repose. It should not be
+forgotten that the attitudes assumed by the body when at
+rest show the presence or lack of inborn grace and dignity,
+and the expression of the face when in repose is an index to
+the mental nature. The expression of the eyes is open; the
+gaze is steady; the brow is undisturbed. The impression
+given by the eyes is of clear, highly developed intelligence.
+In the mouth which, as pointed out above, is the most indicative
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>single feature in portrait sculpture, may be seen
+even more markedly than in the eyes, the man’s character. It
+is a very noticeable mouth, with full and softly modelled lips,
+lips such as usually suggest a weak and sensuous character.
+But this mouth is neither insignificant nor weak. Its great
+sensitiveness passes into firmness in the closure of the lips and
+the strong jaw, and shows itself not as that of an ungoverned
+and libitudinous nature, but of a reserved and, in the best
+way, sensitive quality. It is a mouth that implies vigour
+but not self-will; the mouth of a very sensitive and appreciative,
+but not a sensual man.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Besides the character of eyes and mouth, the treatment of
+the whole head must be studied in order to understand what
+the critic meant when he wrote that this work made a noble
+man still nobler. The treatment is broad. The minor and
+accidental details are disregarded that the general effect may
+be clearer. The curling hair of head and beard, for instance,
+is not tossed about in disordered masses, as so often in later
+works, but is conventionalised. The artist realised that he
+could not imitate hair, and consequently sought for the best
+graphic symbol by which to suggest curls. In the modelling
+of the face he chose an expression of quietness and not one
+of any fitful, momentary emotion; and by not representing
+any slight irregularities of surface or structure, he emphasised
+and made more inevitably noticeable that expression which
+was most completely indicative of the man’s essential nature.
+He has given us not alone Pericles the leader of the state, nor
+Pericles the patron of the fine arts, nor Pericles the impassioned
+orator, but the Pericles of history, the embodiment of
+all the best qualities bred in Athens.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>It must not be thought that the Pericles head alone exhibits
+the qualities of both artist and sitter which I have
+attempted to suggest. In their various ways the portraits of
+Sophocles, Euripides, Demosthenes, the so-called Menander
+(Plate XLV), Periander (Plate XLVI) and many another
+famous Greek show similar æsthetic feeling.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It was but a short time after the death of Pericles that the
+intellectual conditions of Greece underwent a great change.
+Beliefs that, heretofore, had been universally held by the
+Greeks began to be questioned, and the conditions of state-craft
+passed into a new phase. The rise and fall of the Macedonian
+power was of lasting effect on the Greek character.
+Alexander exhibits the type, which became common again
+in the Renaissance, of the selfish despot who maintained his
+power by having the money to maintain his personal influence.
+His thoughts were set chiefly on his own personal glory as
+expressed in his empire. He tried, but unsuccessfully, to
+make his court the centre of the artistic life of the day. He
+was not a patron of the arts but of artists. To Lysippus
+alone was granted the right to carve his portrait. No natural
+development of the arts was possible under such conditions.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The granting of such a monopoly to Lysippus shows that
+Alexander was merely interested in producing on posterity
+a good effect so far as his portraits could help him to do so.
+Copies of some of these portraits exist. They are fine in many
+ways and, to a high degree, lifelike, but they and other similar
+works of the epoch lack the quietness and repose of the works
+of earlier times. There is a melodramatic feeling in the looser
+treatment of the hair, and, oftentimes, an attempt to give a
+superhuman expression to the face.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>These qualities, as critics have often noticed, are to be
+found in all the forms of art of the time, so far as we now
+have the means of judging. Even in architecture there is
+a noticeable change. Stone is not laid so carefully, the cutting
+of details is coarser and mouldings are heavier; masses
+are less finely proportioned and the effects of light and shade
+are made more definite and striking. The miniature portraits
+on gems and coins show the same characteristics as the
+large busts, and the mere fact of putting portraits of contemporary
+rulers on the coinage shows that the relation of the
+individual to the state had changed and that, on the one
+hand, the desire for personal fame was spreading over the
+world—a desire which became still more marked in the Roman
+and Renaissance epochs; while on the other the worship
+of rulers, introduced from the Orient, had firmly entrenched
+itself. In fact, these Hellenistic portraits are not simple.
+While the technique is still Greek, there is something else in
+them than the desire of the artist to show the sitter as he appeared
+to his contemporaries, even in a rightly idealised
+manner,—they manifest the desire of the sitter to be admired.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The tendencies of the time were all towards exactness of
+representation of existing forms, and this was soon attained.
+Perhaps it would have been reached even sooner had it not
+been for certain interests which held the sculptors partially
+to the old-time aims. One such conservative influence is
+shown in the work of Silanion, who became famous for his
+portraits of persons dead long before his day. Such work, if
+it was to satisfy a large public, and this was what it aimed at
+and succeeded in doing, had to be of a broad, general and unemphasized
+character, for the nature and appearance of persons
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>known only by tradition is necessarily more vaguely and
+variously observed, less easily and surely grasped, than that
+of the living. Hence, if Silanion had made portraits that suggested
+strongly what seemed to him the most vital characteristic
+of the person represented, he would probably have
+found that many of his contemporaries considered some very
+different characteristic the most essential. To please the
+many it was needful for his work to embody only those ideas
+that were generally accepted. Such work cannot be realistic
+in the sense of attracting attention to detailed peculiarities.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Greek portraiture became rapidly more and more prosaically
+realistic. But even in its last stages, when Greek
+artists were still employed by Greek patrons, the realism is
+generally restrained. The old conventionalism and typifying
+of the model is gone, and there is greater frankness in the
+rendering of special peculiarities of hair or skin; but the
+work is generally quiet and dignified, calm in expression and
+reposeful in action. The artist puts before us not the type and
+idea suggested by the man, nor, except in special cases, the
+man’s own desire regarding his appearance, but the real daily
+aspect of the man, dressed up not at all, treated in accordance
+with the essential rules of sculpture as a fine art.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>That there were, however, some artists who amused themselves
+and a thoughtless public with portraits that were vulgarly
+realistic—realistic, that is, in the representation of
+ugly and unessential details—is shown by what we know of
+Demetrius of Alopeke. He is noted solely for his successful
+rendering of ugliness. But there was too much cultivated
+taste in what remained of the Greek world, and too much vigour
+and good sense in the growing Roman world, for such work to
+become popular. To see realism developing in a strong and
+healthy manner, we must turn to Rome where, though the
+actual carving was done, with few exceptions probably, by
+Greek workers, still the character of the work itself was controlled
+by Roman ideas (Plate XLVII).</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p084a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLVIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>The dry, matter of fact quality of Roman portraiture as
+opposed to the more imaginative work of the Greeks, has long
+been recognised. Its direct and unadorned presentation of
+the human face is noted by the most careless observer and is
+to most people pleasing. It makes them feel at ease; they
+have the sensation of being with real people; it does not demand
+of them a mental effort to analyse the appearance
+before them in order to understand it. But notwithstanding
+the facility with which one derives very definite, and it may
+be lasting, impressions from these Roman busts, they are by
+no means as simple and artless as they seem at first sight to be.
+They are the product of complex influences and a highly developed
+art and are as difficult to understand and properly
+appreciate as are the earlier Greek ones.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>We may illustrate what has been said by glancing a moment
+at a portrait of an unknown old man<a id='r30'></a><a href='#f30' class='c015'><sup>[30]</sup></a> (Plate XLVIII).
+This is a superb example of Roman portraiture of the time
+of the Republic. It cannot lay claim to any beauty of form
+or feature; it is uncompromisingly homely. Nevertheless it
+has a certain fascination for the beholder. The sculptor was
+a great master. The way in which he has rendered the signs
+of old age in the withered neck, the irregular wrinkles of the
+brow, and the uneven mouth is magnificent. It is realism of
+a perfect kind, for the evidence of the wear and tear of life is
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>subdued by and made minor to the splendid and enduring
+vigour of the mind and character behind the cheerful old face.
+What an old age! The sap may be running slow, the
+body may show the blows dealt by life, but the stiff, short
+hair is still thick, the head is still held upright and forward.
+It is a face of a clean-living, plain-thinking man, one who had
+“held both hands before the fires of life,” and seems to
+scarcely suppress a smile at the thought that any one should
+want the portrait of his old face.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Roman art, as a whole, was practical and uninspired, and
+far from imaginative. In large measure it served either to
+answer some definite practical end or to satisfy (as in the
+decoration of palaces) the Roman taste for grandeur and display.
+It shows the influence of a less full-hearted and unquestioning
+religious inspiration than that which had such
+marked effect on the early art of Greece and again in the
+Renaissance. The work of all the various branches of art
+produced in the Roman territory before the importation of
+Greek artists was of the rudest. It was necessary to employ
+Etruscans to decorate the temple of the Capitoline Jove and
+until the first century before Christ the artistic product of
+Rome seems to have been scanty. The energies of the people
+were expended in war and colonisation. They were essentially
+a commercial race. The existence of their city was derived
+from and depended on their control of foreign trade. The
+first necessity of such a city was to master the business of
+political organisation and not to cultivate the tastes that
+minister to affluence and ease. Pride of race and the acquisition
+of great wealth were results of the transformation
+of the small republic into the great empire, and with pride
+and money came luxury, and the arts, with the desire for
+portraits.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p086a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate XLIX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>Pliny tells of portraits made of wax, owned by the various
+families, which were carried in funeral processions,—how
+these were considered as belonging to the house and in case
+of the sale of the latter passed with it to the new owner;
+such portraits as these would, like the earlier Egyptian ones,
+tend to the purest realism of external appearance. He mentions
+also the muniment rooms filled with records of ancestors.
+Stress was laid on the actions of the illustrious dead in order
+that the ensuing generations might be stirred to ambitious
+effort. Very different is this from the Grecian sinking of the
+individual in the state. Roman tombstones exhibit the same
+pride in great deeds and the same interest in details. They
+are entirely different from the Greek grave monuments. The
+Greek gives the name of the deceased, and sometimes a greeting
+to the living wayfarer who may pass by and note the tomb;
+or, sometimes he inscribed a plaintive verse—the expression
+of a broken heart—but nothing more. How old were the
+dead? What had they done? No one now can tell. Their
+course was run and the restless curiosity of later ages must
+remain unsatisfied. On Roman tombstones all this is very
+different. They tell us the age and family of the deceased,
+their occupation, what offices they had held and their age
+even to days. In the cases where a portrait of the dead person
+is added, it is treated in no general and typical way; but the
+individual is set before us with unsparing accuracy.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This interest in the events of each individual life led to the
+chief difference between Roman and Greek portrait busts.
+The Roman thought of the great men of his country as the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>persons who had done such and such things rather than as the
+leaders of such and such policies. Consequently, the Roman
+portraits suggest activity and not repose,—action and not
+thought. The idea embodied in the bust is not of a placid
+and meditative but of a positive and active cast. The portraitist
+seems almost always to represent his sitters at the
+moment when they were accomplishing the great deed that
+brought them fame. The eyes are made expressive by being
+distinctly focussed, and this expression is emphasised by the
+treatment of the brow, which oftentimes is more or less wrinkled
+or contracted in a way that suggests vigorous, passing, mental
+action. In many cases the ball of the eye is cut so as to produce
+a strong shadow and thus to suggest the pupil. This also
+makes the fixed look more intense, but unless the light is
+exactly right it is apt to produce an unpleasant appearance.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>That an artist should do this shows the desire for dramatic,
+restless effects. The treatment of the lips and the part of the
+face about the mouth also suggests an expression not typical
+of any general trend of thought so much as of some momentary
+and strong emotion. Then the way the head is set on the neck
+and turns sharply to one side or the other can be understood
+only by supposing that the artist represented the sitter as he
+appeared when employed on some one active and characteristic
+piece of work. There is, for instance, in Corbulo none of the
+Greek treatment of the individual as a type, but everything
+is done to make more prominent the individualities of the man.
+And just as the Pericles is not alone in its class, so too the
+Corbulo is matched by many others, such as the Julius Cæsar,
+the Augustus, Caracalla or Antoninus Pius (Plate XLIX).</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p088a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate L.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>As one looks at these Roman portraits one frequently
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>feels that the persons are on the point of moving. But
+notwithstanding this quality of life which has led to their
+being called realistic, the best of them are no more merely
+superficial in their realism than the best Greek busts. Neither
+class is vulgarly realistic and imitative solely in the external,
+but both depend for their effect on the correct comprehension
+and presentation of actual phenomena of form and facial expression.
+The different effect they produce is due to the fact that
+the Greek desired an expression of the inner man, the man as
+he was to himself, while the Roman desired the expression
+of the man as he showed himself to others. Putting the case
+concisely, and remembering that such conciseness does not
+express the completest truth, we may say that one was the
+portrait of man as a thinker, the other of man as a doer.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the foregoing explanation of the nature of Roman portraits,
+no account has been taken of the numerous beautiful
+busts of children and women that were carved by the sculptors
+of the Eternal City. At first sight these seem to contradict
+the contention that the almost universal intention of the
+Roman sculptor was to make a portrait of a single sharply
+defined phase of his sitter’s personality. They seem to be
+done rather in accordance with Greek taste; but closer study
+will reveal that they are not truly Greek,—that their real
+nature is Roman and their seeming Grecian spirit is an illusion
+due to accident and not to intention.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Busts of children or women made to show character in
+action could never resemble the Roman busts of men. The
+qualities that make the character of men are non-existent, or
+at least undeveloped, in the child, and in the woman take another
+form. The Greek by his generalising and typifying
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>process which brought about the production of placid figures
+was led to express chiefly those qualities which produce similar
+effects in all faces. The Roman, though searching for
+active expression still noted in the child as the most beautiful
+and characteristic qualities, softness, roundness and breadth
+of modelling, and the dignity of infantine demeanour. Hence
+the Roman heads of children have a somewhat Greek look,
+but in every part, as for example the hair, where stress can be
+laid on accidental and purely individual appearance, this is
+done (Plate L). The Greek appearance was inherent in the
+object; the most suggestive symbol to express curled or
+straight locks was sought, but to carve hair in all its fairness
+of strand, in all its waving masses or its fantasticalities of
+fashion, was not the aim of the sculptor. In Roman work the
+hair is scarcely ever conventionalised in a Grecian manner but
+shows the fashion of the day. Usually, the head is not symmetrically
+placed, but is turned to one side or the other, implying
+that the child’s attention was attracted to some special object.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The same points are to be noted in the portraits of women.
+In their faces as in children’s the beauty and softness of feature
+led to something like a Greek breadth of modelling, but the
+hair and the action of the head are purely Roman (Plate LI).</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p090a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Florentine portraits show these same characteristics.
+Among them also the children and women seem at first glance
+to be Grecian or Venetian in character, but, when looked at
+more closely, one sees that those features which are not mere
+copies of nature but which show artistic intention are not
+Venetian, nor Greek, in character, but Roman. Yet another
+class of Florentine monuments which are at first sight misleading
+in the same way are the recumbent statues on tombs.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>In these the Greek quality of quietness and repose is very
+marked and is due to the artist being called upon to represent
+faces modelled by the stilling touch of death and no longer to
+be thought of as showing active forces. But even in these
+figures the intense actuality of feature, the lack of conventionalising
+and typifying, is noticeable. In fact there is little
+doubt that oftentimes the artist did his work not from sketches
+of the living model but from a death mask.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>If now we consider from a more general point of view this
+art of portraiture and its relationship to times and peoples,
+certain things become clear. Portraiture may be due, as in
+Egypt, to some religious motive, but this is uncommon.
+Where it develops as an art, simply for its æsthetic value,
+we note that it becomes a general practice only as ideal
+and imaginative work loses ground. While the Greeks never,
+in a certain sense, showed much imagination in their sculpture,
+it is unquestionable that towards the end of the fifth century
+B.C., when portraiture becomes prominent, the idealising and
+religious works decrease and deteriorate. The same truth
+holds good in Italy during the Renaissance, when much more
+imagination was shown than in Greece.<a id='r31'></a><a href='#f31' class='c015'><sup>[31]</sup></a> Portraiture is due to
+a family interest in its own members or to a people’s interest
+in an individual. It is not practised (for artists such as Silanion
+are not true <i>portraitists</i>) by the artist to please himself.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>But whatever may be the interests, private or public, that
+call for portraiture, the art becomes common only in times of
+centralisation, times when large fortunes, and hence great
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>power, are possessed by individuals. Furthermore, no matter
+who may be the persons represented (setting aside women and
+children) it is not possible to carve or paint them except in
+one of two ways, as an embodiment of thought, or as an
+embodiment of action. The former method appealed to
+Greeks and Venetians,—the latter better pleased the Romans
+and Florentines. Both are realistic because both strive to
+show in one way or another actually existent forms and expressions.
+It depends on each man’s natural temperament
+which will give him most satisfaction. Other methods are
+frequently adopted in the modern struggle for originality,
+but it is safe to say that they will exert little influence on the
+development of art, for, while they may be clever devices,
+while they make certain effective features particularly prominent,
+they are still unsatisfactory because they produce at
+best but a partial likeness. If it be granted that there are but
+two great methods of portraiture, there is yet no reason to fear
+that dulness will ensue. The interest excited by the individual
+man comes from the character shown.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There are just double as many portraits, potentially, as
+there are individuals, and the interest of portraiture lies in
+what the artist makes us comprehend of the nature of the
+man. Too often the public is deceived into thinking that
+the work of handicraftsmen, with little or no power of reading
+and understanding character, is to be judged as true portraiture.
+Such work may be decorative in chiaroscuro, it may be
+pleasant as colour; but the mere drawing of a face, even if
+what is called a good likeness is produced, is not portraiture.
+It is but the outer husk and dead wrapping hiding the vital
+germ within.</p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>
+  <h3 class='c004'>II. PHEIDIAS AND MICHAEL ANGELO</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>Different as were the lives and works of the two sculptors
+whose names are more familiar to us than those of any others,
+there were, nevertheless, many circumstances of closely related
+character that affected their careers. But apart from
+such circumstances the consideration of even those influences
+which were absolutely different in the one case and in the
+other, exhibits clearly some of the broader laws of the art
+practised by them both. In truth, it is the art rather than
+the individual style of the sculptors that is worth study, for
+the art is a language, the works but the expression of single
+ideas; the one is a perpetual and constantly varying power,
+the other but separate thoughts expressed.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Naturally the two interests, one that of becoming more
+familiar with the products of the “fine intelligence of noble
+minds,” the other the more abstract one of a more intimate
+knowledge of the powers and possibilities of one of the fine
+arts, are inextricably combined. The study of the two sculptors
+mentioned is particularly interesting owing to the ever-increasing
+production of sculpture in our own day; and owing
+to various conditions in modern life, there is a close relationship
+in many important matters between us and these two
+masters of days long past. Therefore, whatever can be certainly
+learned about them will help us to appreciate more
+truly the work and workers of to-day and to-morrow. Nothing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>can help more to attain this appreciation and sympathy
+than the study of the great workers of past ages, even when
+they may to a casual glance seem to be of somewhat remote
+interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The work of men such as Pheidias and Michael Angelo cannot
+be considered by any serious student as in fact remote
+from our time and interests. The study of the Past, particularly
+that part filled by Greece, becomes every day more
+and more general and the influence of the Renaissance in
+Italy upon modern thought and work is seen on every hand;
+here we come to the first noteworthy fact regarding these two
+sculptors. It is not going too far to say that all the best
+Greek sculpture, that is to say, what was produced during the
+latter half of the fifth century before Christ and the fourth
+century, was strongly influenced by Pheidias and that his
+influence shows itself intermittently until the end of the ancient
+world.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It would of course be too much to claim Pheidias as the
+originator of all the qualities in sculpture which are apt, nowadays,
+to be named Pheidian, but as the master who most adequately
+expressed the ideals held in his time so far as sculpture
+allowed of their expression, he may be used as the type; and
+among the varied interests which Michael Angelo and the
+other students of the Renaissance found in Greek work were
+several that may properly be called Pheidian.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This influence of Greek work on the Renaissance can hardly
+be over estimated. It shows itself in many ways and with
+varying force,—sometimes producing direct imitation of
+ancient works, then again becoming manifest in new work
+done with the intention of reviving the spirit of the ancient
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>world. Michael Angelo did not fall under the spell as completely
+as many of his less vigorously original contemporaries,
+but it was no more to be entirely avoided by him
+than one of the laws of nature. Thus with the work of
+the Greeks directly affecting us to-day in a very similar way
+to that in which it affected the Italians in the fourteenth and
+fifteenth centuries, and with the work of the later period, deeply
+tinctured with the Grecian dye, also influencing us, it becomes
+deeply interesting to find in what the greatest artists of the
+two periods were alike and wherein they differed one from
+the other.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The influence of Pheidias on the art of his race was not so
+much that of the originator or inventor as it was that of the
+poet, who gathering the various and unconnected beauties
+that are felt by all, though less keenly than by him, binds
+them together by the indefinable power of his genius and gives
+back to the admiring world not separate things of beauty but
+a standard of the beautiful and perfect. And this power of
+genius deals with such finenesses, is so subtle, that oftentimes
+it is almost beyond the power of words to make clear the manner
+of its working. As the sensitiveness of the photographic
+plate is greater than that of the eye, so the trained and perceptive
+eye notes much that can only with difficulty be expressed
+by words. The genius is felt, it thrills and vivifies
+the observer, but it cannot be expounded like a problem in
+mathematics.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>For this reason, we must believe, the few great writers on
+these matters are oftentimes scoffed at by persons whose eyes
+have not been trained to see nor their hearts to understand.
+Not that the scoffers can be blamed for this unhappy sterility
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>of their powers, for in most cases the circumstances of life
+have not been of that fortunate kind which would enable them
+to acquire the finer faculties. They are only to be blamed
+in so far as either through envy or stupidity they refuse to
+believe that others may be endowed with power which is
+lacking to them—power dependent upon long and arduous
+training. It is a curious but familiar phenomenon that the
+person who will not hesitate an instant to admit that the
+trained rider or sportsman or oarsman can ride, shoot or row
+better than he can, will energetically claim for himself as fine-seeing
+an eye, or a mind as keenly interpretative, as the practised
+artist or the scholar. That is, he asserts that the exercises
+of the body need training, but those of eye and brain
+do not, a theory manifestly absurd.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The genius of Pheidias is so ultimate in its fineness that it
+needs long training before it can be properly appreciated. If
+this is doubted, one has but to consider the fact, that among all
+the numerous references to him and his work which are preserved
+for us in ancient writers, not one mentions him, as his
+elder contemporaries Myron, Pythagoras, Kalamis or many
+others are mentioned, as having been the first to institute any
+particular detail of carving. No new treatment of the hair,
+no new way of representing the body, no special scheme of
+proportion are attributed to him, and yet the absolute consensus
+of opinion was that he was the unrivalled master of
+them all. Fashions changed, and a new one, that of making
+collections, arose, which demanded the satisfaction of individual
+tastes, but Pheidias’s fame knew no eclipse.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p096a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>Besides this subtle quality in his genius, this weaving of the
+various beautiful threads spun by others into one consummate
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>stuff, there are other qualities that render his work difficult
+to appreciate. One is that the ideals both of religion and
+of life were very different from those of to-day, so that we have
+to lay aside all preconceived notions and at first regard him as
+children who wonder but do not understand. This is the
+hardest task the student ever has to master, to free himself
+from the bonds of the conventions, beliefs and circumstances
+common to his own day and study the work of another time
+with (so far as he can accomplish it) an understanding sympathy
+with the conventions, beliefs and circumstances belonging
+to those other days. Still a further difficulty lies
+in the fact that there does not exist in the world one single
+work of which we can say: this is truly and completely by
+Pheidias. The marble figures from the Parthenon show his
+quality in many respects clearly but these we know were
+worked upon by assistants. Other works by him exist in
+copies, but for the most part these copies can be shown to be
+bad and should be used as evidence only with the utmost
+care. Yet, notwithstanding these difficulties, the image that
+we have of him is, it can scarcely be doubted, clearly defined
+in the main outlines.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>How different is all this in the case of Michael Angelo!
+Here our embarrassment is of a character diametrically opposed
+and comes from the fact that we are so burdened with
+details about his life and work that the really important
+matters are partially obscured by trivialities. Contemporaries
+and fellow-workmen wrote his life; his letters and poems
+have been preserved; documents of all sorts regarding his
+works exist, and the works themselves are where they can be
+easily seen.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>Beyond all these aids to our knowledge of the man we
+have, again, the more vital one that the age in which he lived
+is almost as well understood as our own, and many of the
+greater currents of thought and action were but little different
+to those of the present time. Unlike the Pheidian time, but
+like to-day, his was not a period when governments deeply
+believed in the protection of their Gods nor one in which the
+individual was scarcely considered except as a detail of the
+state, nor when portrait statues were almost unknown. Conquest
+for the love of gain, and commonwealths subdued to
+one will, were the rule. The truly Greek period in the development
+of Italy, the time of the blossoming of Venice, of Siena,
+of Florence had given way to the Alexandrian epoch. Though
+the idea that the will of the masses should govern the state
+was fortunately not yet formulated, the development of individualism
+was well under way, and instead of men governing
+their lives by general ideals they all sought to raise themselves
+on the shoulders of their less fortunate brothers to enjoy a
+little while the glory of a special and peculiar fame. Hence
+called as he was to lend his power to the satisfaction of such
+desires as these, Michael Angelo’s work was in many cases,
+in those, that is, where he was working for a master other
+than his own instinct, tinged with a character utterly out of
+accord with that of Pheidias, and yet curiously enough even
+in these works there are signs of a strong undercurrent of
+feeling which would have bound him and Pheidias together as
+the most sympathetic friends, thus showing that at bottom
+art is not governed by circumstance of time or place.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There were however certain very important aspects in which
+life as Michael Angelo saw it in Italy, and particularly in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>Florence, was curiously similar to what it was in Athens in the
+fifth century <span class='fss'>B.C.</span> The climate and general appearance of the
+two countries is even now not unlike, and it must have been
+much less so in the time when the hills of Greece were so forest-grown
+that Pan and the nymphs could really live in comfort
+there, and before modern improvements had eradicated many
+of the individual peculiarities of Italy. Then too the habits
+of the cultivated classes were similar. Under very different
+forms the principles of education seem to have been the same.
+The schooling shown in Castiglione’s Cortegiano is like that
+given the Grecian youth. It was an education which comprised,
+both in Greece and in Italy, music, drawing, a knowledge
+of the thought and actions of past generations and a mastery
+of all those exercises that conduced to self-defence or to the
+more perfect development of the body. Similar training
+naturally taught the men of these two worlds to see life in
+very similar ways, and although the teachings of the Catholic
+Church were very different from those of the Greek religion in
+regard to the relations between men and women, yet life and
+instinct were stronger than the holy teachings, and in this
+point too the simplicity and naturalness of the Greek found
+its counterpart in Italy.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is easy to see that the power exerted by these various
+influences on the art of sculpture was very great, more so even
+than on the sister art of painting, for it is on the realisation
+of what constitutes a fine body, on the equal simplicity of
+treatment of the woman’s form and the man’s, and the knowledge
+of what ideas can be best interpreted in terms of form,
+that the art of sculpture depends. Art is but the translation
+of emotion, and each particular art has a particular way of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>accomplishing the translation; and in this, painting and sculpture
+are more closely connected than any two other arts, so
+much so that sculptors in the two greatest periods—the
+Greek and the Renaissance—rarely considered their work as
+finished until the power of colour had been used to heighten
+the effect, and often practised the two arts coincidently. But
+during these two periods the limits imposed by the materials of
+the various arts were clearly recognised and closely adhered
+to, and in the best sculpture of the Renaissance there is no
+more attempt to represent landscape or other purely colour
+effects than in the Parthenon. Sometimes, however, as in
+the drapery of the Moses or the modelling of the Pietà in St.
+Peter’s, Michael Angelo does seem to overstep the limits of
+sculpture and to seek for effects which could be more simply
+and much more intelligibly given in painting than in stone;
+effects that need the manifold devices of light and shade and
+colour which are at the disposal of the painter rather than the
+sculptor.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This is, however, a rare weakness in the works of Michael
+Angelo, and one that apparently never entered those of Pheidias.
+One reason for this is that the art of painting was more
+completely comprehended in Italy than in Greece, and the
+Italian artists, more commonly than the Grecian, practised
+both arts. Hence, great painter as well as great sculptor,
+endowed with a readiness of hand, such as scarcely any other
+artist ever had, to reproduce whatever his mind imaged, it
+is no wonder that Michael Angelo at times went beyond the
+bounds of one art and seemed magically to interfuse the beauties
+of both of them. It would have been a greater wonder
+had he not done so. It was not a sign of his weakness so much
+as of his strength, of the inability of any one art to satisfy
+the artist’s desire and ideal. In this greater complexity,
+which shows at times in the detail of his work, Michael Angelo
+differed from Pheidias, but, almost invariably, the two artists,
+while differing in their feeling for line, or gesture, or substance,
+treat the human figure and its accessories in the same way.
+In both one sees a distinct and necessary dwelling on the
+nude.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p100a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>Where the human figure is chosen as the object of a work
+of art, there are but two chief means by which to represent
+the emotions it contains, one the expression of the face, one the
+action of the body as a whole. It is in the representation of
+the face, the most palpable index of the emotions, that painting,
+with its power over almost infinitesimal lights and shades,
+finds fullest scope for its power, while it is in the greater lines
+of the frame and the larger gestures that sculpture satisfies
+herself. So it is that in the sculptural work of both Michael
+Angelo and Pheidias one finds drapery treated not, as was
+distinctly the case in the statues of Praxiteles, for its own
+special beauty apart from the whole work, but as a means of
+emphasising the beauty of the body whose details it hid.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Look at the group of three women from the western pediment
+of the Parthenon, or the Lemnian Athena, or the Caryatids
+of the Erechtheum (Plate LII)—for these are utterly
+Pheidian in character even if not by the master himself—or
+the figures on the frieze of the Parthenon (Plate LVII) or the
+Hegeso relief. In all these the drapery ripples over the
+shoulders and breasts, breaking in great falls around the waist
+and legs to disappear and fade away in little curling waves
+around the feet, not hiding the soft details of the figure
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>underneath but serving rather as a frame to emphasise the
+beauties and set them in true relation to the surroundings.
+That there was any ethical need of hiding the figure would
+have seemed the height of absurdity to the Greek or the
+Italian. Out of the dark it comes and back to the dark it
+goes in this Adamite condition, so why should the artist not
+use it so if it serves his purpose?</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Thus it has been used in all times when there was a vital
+art, and such times have been distinguished for greater sanity
+of thought and health of body than when art was governed
+by mediæval fanaticisms. Michael Angelo’s figures are as
+distinguished for this quality as are those shaped by the
+Grecian chisel. His feeling for the value of the nude is so
+strong that he can hardly suffer the drapery at all. The
+Moses, the Madonnas, the Medici Princes are to all intents
+in large measure undraped. Considered as draped figures
+they distinctly lack the temperance and quiet nobility of the
+Greek figures, for the reason that although his feeling towards
+the relation of draped and nude parts is the same, Michael
+Angelo does not attain his end in as consummate a way. He
+makes too sharp a distinction between the parts that are
+really draped, the parts that are but seem not to be, and the
+nude. But in one point of this same nature the two artists
+are completely alike. They both regarded the human figure
+from the purely artistic point of view as a means to suggest
+certain ideas. The religious meaning, the question as to its
+sanctity or unhallowedness, no more occurred to them than to
+question the advisability of warming themselves before the
+fire when they were cold because there were fires in Hell.
+They were completely natural.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>In regard to the lack of complexity and to the greater repose,
+it may be admitted that Pheidias has the advantage over
+Michael Angelo whose works, true index as they are of his
+character, suffered from the time in which he lived—his
+character suffered and hence his work. His was a time of
+scepticism and hence of worry. The tranquillity that marked
+the Greek mind was rarely found in his day. Aretino was
+planting the destructive roots of modern journalism, and except,
+in a way marked by strong affectation, at certain courts,
+one would have had to go far to find Platonic Symposia or
+Olympic gatherings. The cloudy brow of Michael Angelo
+himself as well as of many of his figures is a sign how the perplexity
+of the times preyed upon the sculptor and in turn
+affected not only the chief motive of many of his works but
+also their very details.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>And, if we admit the truth, this worry and perturbation is
+more natural to us than is the Greek grace and calm which, to
+those who do not understand the time, seems unnatural and
+forced. It was not so, however. The Greek was never
+forced, but though he felt intensely, he considered that the
+possession and exercise of control over emotion was as much
+to be desired as the power which found expression in beating
+back barbarian hordes. The tenderness of Greek friendships
+is proverbial, but the whole tone of Greek tragedy is of passion
+held in check,—carried in the heart rather than worn on
+the face. Slaves and servants gave way to noisy grief, but
+not their masters. A Greek of the Periclean age could scarcely
+have understood the worn, wearied, soul-troubled look of the
+Pensieroso. It was not that the Greek was unimpassioned,
+but he never let his passions govern him. He guided them as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>a rider guides a restive horse—as the youths on the Parthenon
+guide theirs—calming and soothing them lest the animal
+become the master and break away from the chosen path.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This difference in the character of the two races was due
+largely to religion, which had the most marked effect on the
+work produced in the two countries. One is apt to think,
+when one sees the limitless mass of churches, decorated by
+painter and sculptor, in Italy, and the unending array of lesser
+works of distinctly religious intent, that no art could be more
+religious than that of Italy. But just as in the conduct of
+individuals it is the spirit rather than the form of action that
+is the true index to their character, so in art it is the feeling
+the work shows, and not merely its outer form, which indicates
+its true nature and value. Now not merely in the number of
+religious works was Greece in the Periclean days as distinguished
+as ever Italy was, but she was far more noteworthy,
+in that her religion was a much more vital impulse than that
+of Italy. This is certainly true of the Periclean as opposed
+to the Medicean age.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the light of present knowledge the circumstances that led
+to these conditions are discernible. Like every innocent race
+the Greeks had a firm belief in the Gods, beings developed in
+their minds by very varied influences, and for the most part not
+of a character to serve as guides to ideal conduct after the
+race had once gained the capacity for using its mind in a logical
+way. One or two of these beings were, however, as noble
+as any such conceptions at any time. This power to use the
+mind rationally was not yet a national possession when Pheidias
+grew up. It was just becoming so. The development of
+the mind, the strength of it, was there, but for a few decades
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>circumstances turned the thoughts of the people away from
+philosophic consideration to more ecstatic modes in which old
+conceptions were clung to with passionate fondness and made
+more beautiful, but a change of belief was the work of a following
+generation.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>These circumstances were chiefly a consequence of the
+Persian Wars. Greece was threatened with destruction.
+Athens was harried, and the glories of the Acropolis were
+razed to the ground. Phœnix-like they disappeared in fire to
+have an image of themselves more splendid in its youth and
+vigour rise as a light to all the world. But though the barbarian
+had for a moment seemed master of the situation, the
+Greeks had, with the active help of the Gods, been the final
+victors and it was in the service of thanks to their divine
+helpers that Pheidias found his chief employment. It was
+only in the very early years of the Renaissance that the Italians
+experienced any such miracles as those which Pheidias’s
+elder contemporaries had known—as, for instance, at the
+battle of Ravenna—and the effect on them then was much the
+same as it had been on the Greeks. It was the actual presence
+of the Gods at critical moments that stirred the Greeks. In
+Athens Athena’s snake led them to safety, at Salamis the
+Aiakidoi inspired the heroes with their battlecry, and Pan
+himself urged the weary messenger over the mountain passes.
+The Greeks no more doubted that their victory was due to
+assistance lent them by the Gods than that there had been a
+war. One event was as real to them as the other, so it was
+natural for them, as soon as their hearths were once more lit,
+to render thanks to their Divinities by raising images of them
+on all sides, that they might never forget them, and by building
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>for the houses of their Gods as beautiful temples as could by
+any possible means be made.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>We may frankly concede that the grandeur of this work,
+the generousness of it, can only be understood when one fully
+grasps the fact that a Greek temple was, what the Christian’s
+is not, the house of the Lord. In it but few and most private
+services were performed,—no processions, no crowds of more or
+less attentive worshippers, no expounding of the word, nothing
+whatever of that sort. The temple was the sacred dwelling
+place of the deity, and the curious no more thought of entering
+it than of opening uninvited their fellow-citizen’s door. It
+was a free gift to the God and not to be thought of as a source
+of satisfaction to the builders except in the same way as it
+pleases a lover to have his mistress accept some gift at his
+hands. This feeling is repeated frequently in Pindar and in
+other poets inspired by the ‘golden muse.’ So it was that,
+flushed with the excitement of a great cause nobly won, the
+Greeks turned the full force of their keen, glad energy to
+works that showed their own greatness by manifesting with
+the sharpness of full understanding the form of their ideals.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In our day, animated by so different interests and ambitions,
+it is hard to sympathise with this natural idealistic work done
+in Athens, and it is perhaps even harder to understand why it
+was that Pheidias and the other artists were not called on to
+erect portrait statues of the great leaders of the war as were
+the artists of the Renaissance. There is mention of a statue
+to Miltiades, and this is all. The reason becomes clear immediately
+we consider well what were the fundamental principles
+of conduct as taught by the poets, who were in those
+days in large measure the formulators of public opinion. Pindar
+is as clear-spoken about this as need be, and he but repeats
+what one finds in the fragments that are preserved of Solon’s
+writings and of other earlier writers. He tells us that what is
+natural is best and that the deed done without the deity is
+best left unspoken (Olym. IX), and again (Nem. I) that
+each of us has his special power and we must earnestly endeavour
+according as Nature shows the way. This is to be
+the moral of our action, while that of our thought is that man
+is as nothing (Nem. VI), ephemeral creature naught knowing
+what he is or what he may be, nothing but a mirage-dream
+(Pyth. VIII).</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p106a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LIV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>Under the spell of such stern teaching as this it is no wonder
+that Pheidias was not employed, as was Michael Angelo,
+in depicting for an inquiring posterity the outer husk of the
+protagonist of his day. Nor was it merely when he was called
+on to decorate Athens with his accomplished powers that
+Pheidias found guiding principles of this stern sort, but even
+in his other great work, the Olympian Zeus, he was governed
+in the same way. By the Greek, victory in the games was no
+more to be aspired to without the help of the Gods than was
+victory in battle, and it was not praise for the winner but gratitude
+to the Gods that was mete when Nike laid the ‘golden
+crown’ upon the athlete’s brow. For it is the Gods who, as
+Pindar sings, guard the deep-breasted plain of Sparta and
+grant success in the great games. Fame is to be sought
+but it is to be the fame of honourable deeds (Pyth. VIII),
+but even this is of less value than happiness and only he who
+has won both has attained the acme of bliss (Pyth. I).
+Such men are almost unknown, for the soul of honour is
+tarnished by lust of gain (Nem. IX). Thus were the athletes
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>in that “age of heroic prize-men” taught that physical power
+was of value, but only as it was a stepping-stone to moral
+purity. No portraits of such youths as these unless the Gods
+marked them as their own with the triple crown. The deep-delved
+researches of epigraphist and excavator show us how
+rare was that event.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Called upon to embody for the chosen youth of Greece
+their idea and image of the guardian deity who meted out
+unquestioned justice to their strife, Pheidias had to depict
+as it were a masculine counterpart to the Goddess who made
+Athens her own. That he was as successful in the one task
+as in the other is instantly apparent to one who notes the
+quality of the praise bestowed upon his work by the highly
+trained critics of the classic period. None speak of his figures
+as they do of Myron’s, for instance, as deceiving the beholder
+by their realism. There is no question as to the mastery over
+the material as with Kalamis and Pythagoras,—no suggestion
+of conventionalism as with Polykleitos, none of overrefinement
+as with Praxiteles,—but all agree that his works
+were such nobly adequate representations of the divine beings
+that they added a new glory to the religion of which they were
+the perfected expression.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Still another noteworthy peculiarity of this religion in its
+effect on his work remains to be mentioned. Both he and
+Michael Angelo had at different times now mere mortals, now
+deities, to represent. In the case of the Attic master this led
+to a greater unity of performance than was possible with the
+Florentine. Between the dwellers on Olympus and those on
+the broad-bosomed Earth there was to Pheidias’s mind only a
+difference in degree, whereas to the believer in the Roman
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>doctrines there was no real similarity between the heavenly
+hosts and the inhabitants of this vale of tears; and where such
+was suggested, it was so as a symbol, not as a representation.
+To the Greek the Gods were merely his grander, nobler, more
+powerful brethren, blessed with the same virtues and troubled
+by similar faults, differing principally from the dwellers on
+earth by usually escaping the results due to giving way to
+passion. Even they were not blessed with absolute immunity
+and freedom of action. Zeus himself was subject to Fate,
+but in the main the Gods, at least in their outward form, were
+but more beautiful men and women. Hence when called
+upon to carve the most noble being whom he could imagine,
+and equally when carving ideal youths and maidens on the
+Parthenon, he could only carve the same forms he saw about
+him every day idealised by his imagination. Whichever
+branch of his art he followed trained him for the other.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>That such conditions and beliefs as these were very different
+from those under which Michael Angelo had to work needs
+no elaborate exposition. How different they were in their
+effect on the art of Pheidias and the happiness of the period
+for such an artist becomes clearer the more one studies. There
+is still another point to consider, however,—what might be
+called a more practical one than the influences of religion, and
+in this regard, too, Pheidias was the more favoured. I refer
+to the political conditions of the time, and the relations of
+Pheidias to his employers.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The lack of original documents makes it impossible for us
+to follow the course led by Pheidias from its fortunate rise to
+its unhappy close, but that in most ways he was much to be
+envied by Michael Angelo cannot be questioned. Athens
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>was at the height of her prosperity; freed from foreign or
+internal foes, she was at liberty to pursue her ends as occasion
+demanded or as consideration showed was best. It was a
+time of thanksgiving and hope. No such condition of government
+as this was known to Michael Angelo, nor did his country
+have the advantage of being led by as high-minded a statesman,
+and probably as wise a one, as ever lived. So long as
+Pericles was leader of the state, Pheidias was his friend and
+helper. Here was no worry for the artist, no change of master,
+no blighting of cherished hopes, all which ills were suffered
+by Michael Angelo; on the contrary, existence in the
+midst of a most highly cultivated community—a community
+moved by a common search after ideal ends, a community
+which must have been a constant inspiration to the sculptor
+to equal the expectations it had of him. With the rise of
+mob rule brought on by the momentary successes won by
+certain demagogues came the downfall of Pericles and in his
+train Pheidias. But his great work was finished then. He
+had nothing to fear when he laid aside his chisel, and fortunately
+he was not left long to mourn the fast vanishing nobility
+of his city and race. The time of calm self-confidence had
+passed and the time of trouble was threatening. Only a
+short time elapsed before the tide of disaster engulfed the
+whole country, and if we would seek a counterpart to the
+worn and restless spirit that sometimes appears in Michael
+Angelo’s work, we can find it in the later Greek masters—even
+Praxiteles shows traces of it. But it is not mere likenesses
+we are in search of, so much as explanations and the
+clarification of certain phenomena of art.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The effect of these conditions of life and thought on Pheidias
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>was more strong than on other sculptors of the time because the
+greater sensitiveness and impressibility of his nature rendered
+him a more encompassing recipient for ideas and feelings
+than most of his contemporaries. But the qualities that show
+in his work with especial sharpness are found diffused throughout
+all the work of the period, and there is one very noticeable
+characteristic of this work which distinguishes it markedly
+from the work produced by Michael Angelo’s fellow-workmen.
+It is the emphasis laid on youth. Donatello, Verrocchio,
+Desiderio and many others often represented youthful figures;
+but the representation of youth and early manhood could
+scarcely be said to distinguish the work of the Florentine from
+other epochs, yet this is exactly what can be said of the product
+of the early Greek and particularly the Attic School.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Look at the statues of youths and maidens, the never-fading
+ghosts of past days, which the Attic chisel carved and the
+Attic soil has preserved for us. Look at the young Apollos
+and their not less glorious brethren, the athletes. Look at the
+guardians above the temple porches—incarnations of youthful
+vigour even when the bearded head or matronly form give
+sign of elder years. Look at the vases “with brede of marble
+men and maidens overwrought.” Finally look well at the
+statues of God and Goddess—even these have youth eternal
+moulded in their full, strong figures.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>And it is pleasant to reflect that it is not the sculptor’s
+art alone which found satisfaction in thus dwelling on the
+most beautiful forms of human life, but the painters and
+the poets too immortalise the entrancing splendours of the
+youthful form. Greek art of this time presents us with the
+indubitable evidence of a belief, rooted deep as life itself,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>that the everlasting joy of completest beauty was to be found
+in the well-conditioned body of youth or maiden. What a
+degradation the ascetic interpretation of the Holy Writ
+brought in the art of the Renaissance! Many youthful
+figures do we find there, but they were chosen as much for the
+sake of the quaintness of extremely youthful forms as for the
+beauty inherent in vigorous development. The place of the
+fine-drawn, well-groomed figures of the Greek youths and
+maidens is taken by jolly, pot-bellied babies. Over the altars
+and among the graves they scramble, and up the marble
+columns, to launch themselves, heedless as screaming swallows,
+over the groined ceiling. From North to South and
+across Italy from Sea to Sea this breed of fascinating babies
+spread—their father the Church, their mother the great
+human heart of the Italian race. And then, dulling the
+pleasant impression that such figures make upon the mind,
+we are met on all sides by haggard figures of men and women
+expressive only of a bitter ardour to seek salvation by pain.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The wanness of Botticelli, the pain and trouble of Michael
+Angelo, the mere ordinarily healthy look of Ghirlandaio, these
+are what take the place of the deep-breasted, broad-shouldered,
+strong-pulsed, magnificent Greeks—some repetition among
+these latter, ’tis true, but marvellous in their vigour and constancy
+and impulsiveness. Or what poets can the Medicean
+time show who sing of ideals and principles in the same full-throated,
+calm, incisive way as Pindar or Sophocles sang
+them? We have instead a scornful wrath or playful fancy.
+The deity is no longer friendly but terrible, and dainty mistresses
+usurp the place of the God-compelling Aphrodite.
+The momentary, not the eternal, is the interest of the day.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p112a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>Some there were, Greek in spirit and in deed: Dante in
+part of his later work, so far as a Catholic could be. The Vita
+Nuova in its heart-broken passion, the Convito in its complexity,
+are purely Italian, but passages of the Divine Comedy
+and the Letters might be the work of one of the Attic dramatists,
+so intense are they, so cool, so assertive of the power of
+right over wrong. But an artist much more Greek than Dante
+and one who is often, but very mistakenly, thought to resemble
+Michael Angelo, was Tintoretto. His was a Greek sense of
+form, his was a Greek sense of beauty, and his was a completely
+and absolutely Greek sense of what constituted true
+portraiture. There were others too of this group, but they
+are rare and far between; men who seem to have been born
+two thousand years too late, or else just in time to save the
+world from a worship of what was mentally warped and
+physically unsound.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>When one considers that the art of sculpture has found
+its chief employment in the service of religion, it becomes
+plain why living among a people whose religion led to asceticism,
+even though the age was largely sceptical, Michael Angelo
+should impress his work with a feeling quite opposed to that
+found in the works of Pheidias. Scepticism there was in
+ancient Greece too, but not strong enough to free Pheidias
+entirely from the bonds of the religion to which he was from
+infancy accustomed. Furthermore, a scepticism that found
+much fuel for its flames in the misconduct of the Vicar of Christ
+and his less powerful imitators would have a very dissimilar
+effect on the mind from that which was based on true mental
+development. The one was the natural sloughing of the
+skin, the other the amputation of a diseased member.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>The conditions at Rome had more effect on the formation
+of character in those days than anything else, and they cannot
+have seemed much less rotten to Michael Angelo than
+to Hildebrand five hundred years earlier. The feeling that
+Christ was essentially the man of sorrows, which affected the
+early artists, had passed from men’s minds, and in regard to
+his comeliness there was nothing to prevent an artist working
+in a Greek spirit; but employed though Michael Angelo
+was by the Popes, they used him by no means always on religious
+work.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>And Michael Angelo also suffered, as Pheidias did not, from
+having many masters. These were causes to destroy any
+Pheidian-like unity in Michael Angelo’s work, but causes
+much more potent to work him injury were the characters of
+the men for whom he worked, prince as well as Pope. It
+was, doubtless, in many respects fortunate for a young artist
+to have the freedom of the court of Lorenzo de’ Medici, but
+while Lorenzo might help such a man as Michael Angelo at
+the beginning of his career, he was hardly the man to inspire
+his more mature years. At any rate he died while Michael
+Angelo was still young, and thenceforth the latter worked for
+men with whom he can have had but little sympathy. Men of
+great energy they were, but with the exception of Alexander
+VI, in the main corrupt or stupid. To work for such men
+under any circumstances must have been trying, but when
+one thinks of their refusal to allow Michael Angelo to work as
+he saw fit, one does not wonder that at times he was nervously
+irritable.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Obviously such a life would have been trying to a man of
+more ordinary clay than Michael Angelo, but to him, endowed,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>as he was, with enormous powers of mental application and
+sensitive as only poets are, it must at times have been little
+less than torture. He knew that the golden age of his country
+had passed. He saw Florence humbled and Rome sacked.
+The statesmen were men of mean ambition and the clergy
+men of lax morals. Nothing could stop the degeneration.
+Political reformers and saintly enthusiasts had matched themselves
+against the ever-increasing debasement of Italy, and one
+after another they had all been overcome. From the days of
+the doubtful reforms of Crescentius or Cola da Rienzi through
+the period of the passionate recalling of Christ by Francis of
+Assisi to the time of bitter invective of Savonarola, reformers
+had given their lives in the attempt to save their beloved
+Italy from the error of her ways, and all had failed. It was
+not a time for hope but for sorrow, and it needed a firm belief
+in the Divine Word to save one from despair—or at least
+discontent.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is from his sonnets and letters rather than from his sculpture
+that we can obtain a view of Michael Angelo’s thoughts
+and feelings. Not that the latter does not show certain moods
+of the artist very clearly, but, as in the Pietà, it is more ideal
+than personal, more the expression of dreams than of his
+actual experience. In the sonnets, on the other hand, he gives
+vent to his own innermost feelings. In them we find frequent
+expression of deep despair, but bitterly as he grieved for the
+death of Savonarola, there is no evidence that he thereat lost
+faith in humanity. It may well have been his admiration of
+Vittoria Colonna that saved him from misanthropy. As his
+intercourse with her was undoubtedly the purest joy and her
+death the keenest sorrow of his later years, so there may have
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>been some similarly sweetening influence during the summer
+of his life. The knowledge of his career that we possess is
+great, but it does not tell us this. It is for our purposes,
+perhaps for all, better that this should be so. At least it
+makes it easier to compare him with Pheidias, of whose life
+we have no such details whatever.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such were some of the general conditions affecting the point
+of view of these two men. The effect they had on particular
+work becomes evident with the study of the separate monuments.
+One point is, to begin with, very noticeable. It is
+that of the eight works by Pheidias mentioned distinctly
+by ancient writers seven are representations of deities, and
+the eighth of an ideal being. There can be no question that
+he made other works, but that these alone were preserved by
+tradition certainly affords safe grounds for the deduction that
+his genius was most congenially employed and most fully
+displayed in such work. In the case of Michael Angelo, while
+we know of work like the statue of Julius or the Battle Cartoon
+(not to mention his youthful efforts) that have nothing to do
+with religion, yet his mind also turned to religious subjects
+and his greatest works are entirely of this character.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Curiously enough it is when employed on subjects drawn
+from the ancient world that Michael Angelo is most unlike
+the great Greek. His Pietà, the Madonna of Bruges (Plate
+LIII) and Victor (Plate LIV) are more Pheidian than his
+Bacchus (National Museum, Florence; Plate LV) or his Eros
+(South Kensington Museum; Plate LVI). These are Greek
+of a kind, but they are Alexandrian rather than Pheidian.
+They are as foreign to any conceptions of the fifth century as
+they are to those of the Catholic Church. The drunken,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>tottering Bacchus is as different from the early conception of
+the God, who was thought of almost more as the sunshine
+that makes the grape than as the juice itself, as the shrinking
+and self-conscious Venus of the Capitol is from the Venus of
+Cnidos. In his sensuality the Bacchus is un-Pheidian and in
+the humour introduced in the group by the presence of his
+companion he is equally so. Humour was not lacking to
+the Athenian, as the drama shows, but the fields of sculpture
+and painting were not considered the proper place for its
+display.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In still another point is the statue of Bacchus comparable not
+to the early but to the late Greek work, and that is in the realism
+of the modelling and the action of the figure. Such modelling
+bears no relation to the broad treatment of Pheidias. The
+latter shows no such <i>morbidezza</i>, nor would he have dwelt on
+the repulsive unsteadiness of the pose. Whoever it was that
+carved the famous Borghese Anacreon, and it was some contemporary
+of Pheidias, shows us how the earlier Greek artist
+felt towards drunkenness. The figure is under the influence
+of his much-sung God Dionysos, but he is shown in attitude of
+mental ecstasy not of physical uncontrol. What stamps the
+Bacchus and the Eros (and much of his other work) as non-Greek
+is a lack not exactly of beauty, but of delicacy and refinement,
+of charm. But each of these characteristics that
+differentiates Michael Angelo’s work from that of the Greek
+stamps it as a work of the Renaissance. The pleasure in
+technical excellence, the realism and the representation of
+unpleasantness are all qualities that recur over and over again
+in the work of this vigorous, capable, unflinching, unbelieving
+period.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>Similar un-Pheidian qualities show in the figure of Eros in
+London, which if not by Michael Angelo, is at least made entirely
+in his spirit. The same realism of modelling is seen in
+the treatment of the head and face, the same choice of an
+action inexpressive of the deepest meaning of the figure. It
+is still less Pheidian in the vividness and intentness of the
+action and expression which are not explained by the figure
+itself, but the meaning of which is left to the imagination of the
+beholder to discover. Dramatic quality of this sort is rarely
+found in Pheidian work. The statues carved in that time
+were self-explanatory. Single figures were often represented
+as intent or as full of movement as the Eros, but their action
+is not motived by something outside themselves. Hence
+they do not puzzle the beholder. The Anacreon, the Discobolus
+need no explanation, but Michael Angelo’s Eros needs
+to be grouped (at least in imagination) with some other figure
+before it can be understood. It is like Myron’s Marsyas,
+splendid and suggestive but incomplete.<a id='r32'></a><a href='#f32' class='c015'><sup>[32]</sup></a> Separate figures
+of the Parthenon pediments are as dramatic as the Eros, but
+then they form part of a group and as such their meaning was
+perfectly clear.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>An instance is found in one of the group of Gods on the
+eastern end of the frieze of the Parthenon (Plate LVII). The
+figure is commonly called Ares. He is seated forward on his
+throne, and holds one raised knee between his clasped hands.
+Such an attitude, so lacking in grandeur, so suggestive of restlessness,
+is well suited to the fiery God of Battles and shows
+how free and ungoverned by conventions Pheidias could be.
+The group as a whole is a perfect expression of the power of
+the master, to be simple as a child in this treatment of the
+Olympians and yet never to fail to produce work of supreme
+beauty.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p118a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LVI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>This simplicity one notices in all Pheidian work, separating
+it sharply from the later work in Greece and from most
+of the work in Italy, particularly from that of Michael Angelo.
+Pheidias is not in the least affected, but at the same time he is
+not actualistic. Of the hundreds of figures in the full round
+and in relief that decorated the Parthenon there is not one, nor
+even a group, that does not seem absolutely and utterly simple
+and real. And yet there is not one of them which close study
+does not reveal to be a marvellous composite of actions and
+forms and draperies and expressions which all bear the stamp
+of idealisation (Plate LVIII). The effect of perfection that the
+work conveys is due perhaps to Pheidias not having tried to
+idealise in any vague or artificial way, but to his combining an
+absolute dependence on Nature for his models with a capacity
+of seeing, and solely representing, their essential beauties. So
+while his figures are ideal in the sense that they are more
+perfect than average mortals, yet they do not seem unapproachable
+and unaccountable.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Now this, we may freely grant, cannot be said of Michael
+Angelo’s work. His figures are simple, yet it is not the simplicity
+of Nature but of Art. A passing glance may find them
+equal to the Pheidian works, but a more careful study shows
+that though true to Nature and possible in action, they are,
+in respect to both body and attitude, improbable. They are
+composed, and hence in a way untrue. The Pheidian beings
+seem those of the Golden Age—perfect and unconcerned;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>while the others oftentimes seem interested in their own
+perfection and desirous that it should be admired. One knows
+enough of Michael Angelo to know that though self-conscious,
+such thoughts were far from his mind and if, as I think, they
+are to be seen in his work, it only shows that the time was
+stronger than the man, for he lived in a period when affectation
+was not uncommon. The grandeur of the Greek figures,
+as manifest in figurines as in colossal works, is due to the
+beauty dependent on a mental poise; that of the Florentine
+figures is due to their size and suggestion of physical strength
+and to their facial and bodily expression that imply the capacity
+of untold depths of passion—quite as physical a consideration
+as that of size.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of course it may be said that the Eros is merely a study of
+the human frame in a rather complicated position, but even so,
+my contention that the figure is un-Pheidian still remains
+true.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The strength of the action exhibited by this figure of Eros,
+the tremendous play of muscle while at the same time the
+figure is thought of not as in motion but as at rest, is what one
+finds in very many figures painted and carved by Michael
+Angelo and forms one of the most distinctive characteristics
+of his work. It shows in the Slaves, in the Medici figures,
+in some of the sacred groups, in lesser measure but yet distinctly
+in the David and Moses, and as clearly as possible in
+the paintings of the Sistine Chapel. It is due to this in large
+degree that these works are so well known, for they strike the
+eye of the casual and impatient sightseer and they are remembered
+with much greater vividness than work of a quieter
+and less excited character. In the hands of a genius like
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>Michael Angelo such treatment of the human figure, and the
+choice of such positions, seem natural and give no sense of
+exaggeration or restlessness.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is commonly held that genius is limited by no law, and in
+so far as is meant thereby to imply that no bounds can be set
+to the concepts of great minds, this is true; in the attempt to
+express such concepts to others, however, the genius equally
+with less endowed mortals must be limited by the laws that
+govern the material in which he seeks to find expression.
+The penetration of a Sophocles or a Shakespeare into the
+mysteries of life can have no measure set to it, but when they
+tell us their thoughts, their words are bound by the laws of
+verse. No final explanation can be given for the teeming
+imagination of Michael Angelo, but some of his works may
+be criticised for not conforming to the laws of space or
+material that govern the arts of painting and sculpture. He
+sometimes shows a lack of <i>taste</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Genius shows in every touch of Michael Angelo’s hand,
+whether with brush or chisel, but at times his work is unsatisfactory
+owing to its exaggeration. No admiration is too
+great for specific qualities in everything he did, but it is clear
+that the conception of beauty was not held by him as essential.
+To Pheidias, on the other hand, it was of primal importance.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>A comparison of the Parthenon pediments with the ceiling
+of the Sistine Chapel may make clear my meaning. This
+is not the place for fine analysis of either composition. Suffice
+it to say that in each case the space has been filled by the
+decoration with a perfection and adequacy that has never
+been again approached, but I think it will be generally admitted
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>that the chief impression of the pediments, shattered
+though they are, is of beauty, while that of the ceiling is of
+power. Michael Angelo tried at times to express in paint and
+stone what cannot be clearly expressed in those substances.
+This was what I have referred to as lack of taste. His Last
+Judgment is a striking case in point. He attempted in that
+work to do what Milton or Dante succeeded in doing better
+with more suitable means. Even the Chief Actor in the scene
+lacked the quality of grandeur which Michael Angelo seems
+usually to have found no difficulty in suggesting. It is perhaps
+because he felt the inadequacy of stone or paint for the
+full expression of his ideas that he left so many works uncompleted.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Michael Angelo’s figures of Night and Dawn and certain
+figures in the Sistine Chapel may be criticised for the exaggeration
+of their pose, though how extraordinarily successful
+they are can be seen by comparing them with similar figures
+by Vasari or other imitators of the master, which invariably
+appear to be insecure and in danger of falling. The difference
+in the kind of imitators who followed Pheidias, and those who
+succeeded Michael Angelo, shows well one difference in their
+genius and the effect on art in general that the two men had.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Both men had numerous pupils and followers, but in the
+earlier time such men served to keep Greek sculpture at its
+highest level, in the later they brought on a rapid degradation
+of the art in Italy. The reason for this different result is
+plain. Just as most people now see nothing in Michael
+Angelo’s work but strongly modelled figures and vigorous
+poses, not knowing enough of his life to comprehend what
+were the thoughts he desired to express, so the artists in his
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>own day thought the magnificence of his work lay in its
+exterior form. Imitating this they succeeded in producing
+only figures with unnaturally protuberant muscles placed in
+uncomfortably contorted positions. Vasari and Bandinelli
+are two instances in point. The painted figures of the former
+are as foolish in their assertion of would-be grandeur as is
+possible to conceive, and there are few things uglier or coarser
+than the group of Hercules and Cacus by the latter.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In Michael Angelo this insistence on the muscular development
+of figures is an accident perhaps due to his delight (a
+pure Greek delight) in mere physical strength, such as he
+himself possessed, but it is not the most telling characteristic
+of his work. The truly essential part of his work is the thought
+which his figures embody. His followers, being men of little
+originality, as is shown by their trying to assume his peculiarities,
+naturally succeeded not in making work like his, but
+work which in reality serves to show their dissimilarity to
+their master. It was unfortunate, also, that the very qualities
+which attracted them were of a nature that if misunderstood
+lead to a more rapid debasement of art and life than
+almost any other, for a love of mere physical strength is a
+love of what allies one to the beasts of the field. Their work
+unites them not so much to Michael Angelo as to the maker
+of what (with the exception of the Laocoon) is probably the
+ugliest and most brutal work preserved to us from antiquity—the
+Farnese Hercules.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>All this was very different in the case of Pheidias and his
+school. In his work there was nothing superficial to catch
+the eye, no peculiarity except the perfection and beauty that
+one feels instantly and yet cannot, without much care,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>explain on what it depends. What was there then for other
+artists to do if they felt his was perfect sculpture and they desired
+to work towards it? His figures were calm and stately.
+His greatness lay in his conception of the being he was called
+upon to represent—in his point of view, that is. This showed
+itself not in a technical skill superior to that of his fellow-workers,
+for the artists then as in the Renaissance were in the
+main equally skilful, but in a mass of infinitesimal details
+which not so much by themselves separately as by their combination
+gave his work its everlasting charm. It would not
+have taken a quick-witted Greek long to realise that to produce
+Pheidian works he must look at life in a Pheidian way,
+and the more successful his imitations the more calm, restrained
+and careful would they be. This Pheidian point of
+view was such that his followers were turned toward spiritual
+repose as the source of inspiration for their works rather than
+toward restless activity.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The complexity of the attitudes of Michael Angelo’s figures
+is scarcely more noticeable than the multiplicity of the subjects
+he was called upon to produce. Life was more complicated
+in his day than in that of Pheidias, and there were more
+varied demands made upon the artist than in the ancient
+times. While Pheidias, so far as we know, had to make works
+solely for the state or for some public purpose, Michael Angelo
+was forced to gratify the whim of various powerful employers.
+Oftentimes such work, as for instance the Sistine Chapel, was
+of public character, but more often it was not, so that in place
+of striving to embody the ideals of the state whose greatest
+artist he was, he had to bend and mould his genius to satisfy
+the personal ambitions of his masters. The story of the
+Julian tomb illustrates this sad and thwarted part of his
+career. Not only was he prevented from carrying out work
+already undertaken in the way which he considered best, but
+also he was forced to do that for which he felt himself unprepared
+by previous training and unfitted by lack of interest
+in the subject.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p124a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LVII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>That this was his mood at the time when, notwithstanding
+his arguments, Pope Julius II compelled him, in 1508, to begin
+the work in the Sistine Chapel, is known. If, when working
+against his will, he produced the most wonderful bit of decorative
+and architectural painting the world knows, one can
+but wonder what limit his talent would have reached had he
+ever carried to completion any of his great sculptural undertakings.
+Just as his capacity for mingling in his figures deep
+thought and powerful action shows not a greater but rather
+a more varied genius than that of Pheidias, so his capacities
+as painter, as architect, as engineer show that circumstances
+led him to much greater variety of activity than probably
+any ancient artist ever experienced. Not that this varied
+activity must needs imply the possession of greater powers.
+It implies merely the capacity of using an intellect highly
+trained in one way for the accomplishment of purposes of
+more than one kind. That is, it implies the possession by the
+artist of adaptability and of common sense in its finest form,
+and the possession of these qualities was not a rare characteristic
+in the Renaissance. Men of all kinds showed it, but
+it is most marked when it appears as part of the mental outfit
+of painters and of sculptors, men who too often adopt a pose
+of what they consider simplicity and lack of knowledge of the
+world, as though ignorance were the stepping-stone to great
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>art. This was not the condition of things in the Renaissance,
+nor, so far as the little evidence we have allows us to judge, in
+Greece. It created no surprise when Van Eyck and Rubens
+were considered as proper persons to be entrusted with affairs
+of state, nor when the military protection of his city was put
+into the hands of Michael Angelo, nor when Leonardo laid out
+the irrigation system of Lombardy. Life is more complicated
+now and in many lines work has to be more specialised—but
+this is no reason why artists should be stupid.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The fact that the talents required for painting and sculpture
+are not incompatible is clearly shown by Michael Angelo’s
+works. The most common criticism passed on them, and one
+that is in part true, is that his sculptures are at times too pictorial
+while at others his paintings are too sculptural. Certain
+it is that parts of the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel look, at
+first sight, more like sculptured figures than like painted
+decorations. Michael Angelo was unquestionably aware of
+this, and the effect was intentionally sought by him. To state
+as a rule of art that work on the flat should always look flat
+is a mistake. There is no law of optics or of architecture
+which demands this.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The application of the laws of art must depend on the
+individual practitioner.<a id='r33'></a><a href='#f33' class='c015'><sup>[33]</sup></a> In treating the figures in the Sistine
+Chapel in a sculpturesque way Michael Angelo produced
+a work more like the Parthenon in the perfection with which
+the decoration is adapted to its position than is elsewhere to
+be seen. He has used painting, that is to say, in much of his
+design to suggest sculpture, which is the richer and more
+suitable adjunct to most parts of architecture,<a id='r34'></a><a href='#f34' class='c015'><sup>[34]</sup></a> and thereby
+produced a complex architectural work instead of producing
+merely a painting which, like many of those in Venice, might
+equally well be placed anywhere else.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p126a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LVIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>A comparison will make the point plain. Take most modern
+decoration of a similar sort and how infinitely feeble and
+accidental it seems! Look at the decorations of the Pantheon
+in Paris, of the Boston Public Library, and the difference may
+be seen. Great painting one may see there, but not great
+decoration of architectural works; and ceiling or wall paintings
+are nothing else. Any one of these paintings taken from
+its present position would look equally well on any other wall
+large enough to hold it, or in any gallery, and would also have
+equal meaning there. Not so Michael Angelo’s work. As
+a whole it could be put nowhere except where it is, and if cut
+in pieces each bit would cry out in its solitude and demand the
+juxtaposition of the other parts. The work is as perfect a
+finishing of the Chapel as though it were some natural growth.
+This is equally true of the sculptures of the Parthenon. How
+inconsequent and unmeaning they look when taken from their
+natural place is shown in the British Museum by the Athenæum
+Club and Hyde Park Gate in London.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Michael Angelo’s other paintings also have a sculpturesque
+look. This is partly due to the fact that the foreground,
+where atmosphere has little effect, is more studied than the
+background. To him as to Pheidias the human figure was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>of the deepest interest, but its natural surroundings of little
+or none, so the figures are drawn with a distinctness and
+illumined with an intensity of light which make them look
+more solid and material than many a painter’s work. It
+does not mean that Michael Angelo failed to understand the
+function of painting as a Fine Art. The true function of art
+is the presentation of the ideal and this is done by the translation
+of emotion. This translation of emotion, when accomplished
+with the motive of giving pleasure by pleasing the
+senses or elevating the mind, produces the noblest art, for this
+search for pleasure is in healthy minds but the search for
+beauty, and beauty is the suggestion of the ideal. This being
+the general function of Art each one of the Fine Arts follows in
+ways individual to itself the search after beauty in the translation
+of emotion. Music is the most subtle and architecture
+is the most general of the arts, and poetry the most commonly
+understood, while painting and sculpture, the terms of which
+are hardest to define, are the most closely related. As an art
+architecture is an expression of man as a social animal. Painting
+and sculpture are its proper adjuncts. Painting ought
+to be merely the representation by colour of three dimensional
+spaces in two dimensions, while sculpture should attempt
+nothing but the rendering of forms in full or partial relief.
+Each art <i>per se</i> has special powers, but when used as a detail
+of work of another kind, its peculiarities must then be suppressed
+till it is in accord with the work of which it is a portion
+or detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Now this is exactly what Michael Angelo accomplished. It
+is natural for painting, since it cannot represent figures in the
+round, to lay most emphasis on the face, but when it is used
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>to ornament the separate parts of an architectural work, it
+must generalise its own peculiarities and use them to enrich
+the architectural scheme. For in so far as painting thus used
+impresses the beholder with its excellence as painting, by just
+so far has the architecture become a frame for the painting
+and the painting failed to be a glory added to the architecture.
+Michael Angelo was a great enough genius to be able to use
+painting perfectly as an additional splendour to his architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>You do not think of the figures or pictures on the Sistine
+ceiling as separate works—in large measure the composition
+is such that you cannot—so much as the finishing ornament
+of the Chapel. This is because the artist did not put the
+greatest amount of expression into the faces, it permeates
+equally the whole body. Thus these grand creatures look like
+sculpture, which is in fact, as more similar in its permanence
+to architecture, the noblest means of decorating a building.
+Ceilings cannot, it is true, be covered with carved figures, and
+great care should be chosen in the scenes depicted on them, for
+they do not offer a suitable position in which to hang pictures
+that are primarily conceived as pictures. This was a common
+mistake of the Venetians, who covered the ceilings of the Ducal
+Palace, Santa Maria del’ Orto and countless other buildings
+with elaborate paintings of subjects that have no architectural
+significance and cannot be thought of as scenes taking
+place in the heavens. They are in fact large easel pictures
+and as such would be better seen if hung upright on the wall
+than in their present position.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the Sistine Chapel Michael Angelo showed his complete
+understanding of painting as an ornament and finish to architecture,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>and in his easel paintings he manifests, if not as
+complex effects as some painters, at least as full a knowledge
+of what constitutes painting, from its roots of drawing and
+composition to the full blossom of colour and expression.
+Perhaps the most marked peculiarity of his paintings is the
+lack of complex backgrounds of any sort, whether of landscape,
+or drapery, or architecture. This again allies him to
+the Greeks, not to those of any one age in especial, but to all,
+for the most marked difference (leaving the less important
+matters of medium and technique aside) between their paintings
+and those of modern times is, that they did not consider
+backgrounds as a part to be treated with much elaboration
+or care.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Greek painter, we know, presented his scene with only
+enough suggestion of the surroundings in which the figures
+stood for the beholder to understand the general character of
+the spot where the action was taking place. He lavished his
+care on the figures, and did nothing to distract the full attention
+of the beholder from them. Michael Angelo did the same.
+In so far as he rivets your whole attention to the figures on
+the canvas, his painting is sculpturesque, but this word cannot
+be applied to his work in the sense that he was ignorant of
+the principles of painting as an art of expression. That in
+his painting as in his sculpture he tended to overstep what are
+generally considered the proper limits of the art is true, but
+this was due rather to great knowledge than to any imperfect
+understanding. At such times he was striking out into the
+unknown realms of discovery and searching for new possibilities
+for the arts of which he was the most accomplished master
+of the time.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p130a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LIX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>I have tried to show how the general beliefs and ideals of
+the people among whom they lived would have tended to differentiate
+these two artists one from the other in certain ways
+and to ally them in certain others. But different or similar,
+can it be said of either: this one is the greater? I think not,
+even though one recognises that Michael Angelo certainly
+gave more varied expression to his genius. Neither of them
+shows a more complete understanding of the arts, or embodies
+a fuller realisation of the ideal in his figures, than the other.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Take for example Pheidias’s statues of Athena and Michael
+Angelo’s of the Madonna. No artist could express all each
+of these beings suggests in one figure, but it would be a hard task
+to find anything that they did not show in one or the other
+of their several presentations. We know with considerable
+accuracy what was the grandeur of the Athena Parthenos, the
+guardian of her chosen people, and we also know the divine
+rage felt by Athena the warrior Goddess driving Poseidon
+from the sacred citadel; and finally we know by literary and
+probably by ocular evidence with what consummate grace
+Pheidias represented Athena the ideal of Attic maidenhood.
+There are many other statues of the Goddess by other artists
+and from other periods but none I believe that add to the
+realisation these three give us of what Athena was to the
+Athenians.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the same way Michael Angelo shows us the feeling of
+his time towards the Virgin. In the figure at Bruges we see
+the youthful figure—the Virgin of the Visitation. In the
+partially finished group in Florence there is more trouble in
+the face, the feeling expressed in the words “behold, thy
+father and I have sought thee sorrowing” and “they understood
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>not the saying that he spake unto them” (Plate LIX).
+In the Pietà in St. Peter’s her heart is numb with grief—the
+flood of sorrow that has whelmed her is</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Such a tide as moving seems asleep,</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>Too full for sound or foam,</div>
+      <div class='line'>When that which draws from out the boundless deep</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>Turns again home.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c020'>Her figure as shown us by other lesser men seems trivial or
+incomplete when these are remembered.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>If one considers the larger undertakings of the two men,
+the Parthenon and the Sistine Chapel, one cannot say that
+either surpasses the other, though one can say with absolute
+security that neither has ever been approached. In these
+works they show themselves the masters of all craftsmen.
+Note the way in which the composition of the Parthenon
+groups suits the long, low triangular space in which they are
+placed, each group, taken as a whole, being made up of numerous
+lesser groups which are quite perfect by themselves and
+so interwoven by means of upraised arms or turned bodies or
+bits of floating drapery, that it is only after careful observation
+that one sees how the artist made various parts unite
+into one perfect whole. It is the acme of architectural sculpture.
+It seems simple, but one searches in vain among the
+pediment groups that have been made since for one that can
+approach it even distantly in merit. It is this same intertwining
+of simple, unforced separate parts into one grand,
+living completeness that marks out the ceiling of the Sistine
+Chapel as a thing apart and unequalled.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>To compare the more private, perhaps more personal works,
+of the two men is impossible, for the reason that nothing of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>this sort made by Pheidias has been preserved for us. There
+are a few such by Michael Angelo, some from his earliest years,
+as the Battle of the Centaurs, others like the David or perhaps
+the Eros. From these we get a suggestion regarding the ideas
+which Michael Angelo thought were to be expressed by sculpture.
+The bas-relief showing the Battle of the Centaurs can,
+however, scarcely be taken into consideration, for it is a work
+of his mere boyhood and shows little except unusual power
+for a youth and an interest, which apparently did not last,
+in subjects drawn from ancient art. The man’s unconventional
+and powerful nature is shown by the fact that in his
+mature years he did not ever, as most contemporary painters
+and sculptors did, try to copy the antique in any way. His
+own mind was too active for him to adopt either the subjects
+or modes of other men’s work. So, too, in the case of Pheidias,
+his work does not suggest that of any predecessor, but in later
+periods of Greek sculpture the figures which hark back in
+some way to Pheidian originals are innumerable.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the David, in the figures in the Medici Chapel and those
+for the Julian tomb one sees the same strained look: physical
+calm and great strength combined with a marked expression
+of mental restlessness and trouble, undoubtedly significant
+of Michael Angelo’s own feeling of weariness and
+of the ‘powerful trouble’ that beset the world. Pheidias
+came just at the acme of a great period. Michael Angelo, on
+the other hand, felt that the light in the sky was that of the
+waning day, not of the sunrise. His figures are sad; those by
+Pheidias are quiet and peaceful. Society and the artist were
+in harmony in the case of the Greek; they were not in accord
+in the case of the Florentine.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>Every point we study brings us to the same conclusion, that
+while each of these men was the supreme master of his time
+and of incomparable capacity, Pheidias had less to struggle
+against than Michael Angelo; and through being able to carry
+out his ideas unhampered, he had a better effect on his followers
+than Michael Angelo, whose works are in the main
+monuments of thwarted purpose. Each sought unceasingly
+to embody in his work ideals of beauty beyond the influence
+of contemporary events. In the one case this was possible,
+in the other not. To the Greek, contemporaneity was nothing,
+to the Italian, it was all. Where Pheidias was called on to
+decorate the chief public building of Athens with scenes of
+war which were known only by popular tradition and which
+were instinct with poetry, Michael Angelo had to depict a
+battle that was a mere incident of border warfare. Each of
+these men, however, enriched the world with works that are
+unsurpassed, and similar work will never again be accomplished.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>With the passing of the Greek world passed the ideals
+that inspired Pheidias. Others came and faded away again
+with Michael Angelo. Their works are immortal in the sense
+that in their kind they cannot be superseded. But the arts
+themselves are not immortal, for this would mean that they
+could not advance and develop. It is in this power of growth
+and change and adaptation that art is allied to science, and we
+turn to the most recent exponent of either with the incommensurable
+hope that he may have found the master key to
+beautiful new worlds.</p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>
+  <h3 class='c004'>III. A HEAD OF ATHENA FROM CYRENE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>In the first, and, as it was destined to be, the last report
+on the excavations by the Archæological Institute of America
+at Cyrene,<a id='r35'></a><a href='#f35' class='c015'><sup>[35]</sup></a> I published a marble head of Athena which we found
+a few inches below the surface on the top of the Acropolis.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The spot where it was found afforded no clew to its origin.
+It came to light in a small room constructed probably in the
+later Ptolemaic times, and had obviously fallen and been lost
+to sight, by one of those inexplicable accidents familiar to all
+excavators, on the spot where our picks discovered it. No
+temple stood near; no trace of pedestal could be found and
+no other fragment of marble came from the torn covering
+of protecting earth to help answer the eager questioning
+the quiet face aroused. Except for a flake off the hair, the
+tip of the helmet projecting over the brow, the edge of one
+ear and the point of the nose, the marble was as fresh as the
+day the figure was first unveiled to the worshipping multitude.
+(Plates LX, LXI.)</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The perfect head alone is left us to solve the riddles the archæologist
+and artist may ask. Doubtless when in the oncoming
+years the Italians have the satisfaction of finishing
+the work which we inaugurated and made possible, further
+discoveries will dispel whatever doubts now harass our minds,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>and students, forgetful of the time and circumstances under
+which we wrought, will wonder why we hesitated, why we did
+not see, why the closed lips did not speak to us with as clear
+a note as to them. Doubtless, but still it seems likely that
+many years must elapse before others will be able to finish
+our work, and in the meantime it is well to bring this lovely
+bit of sculptor’s art more adequately to the attention of students
+than seemed wise before the hope of continuing the
+excavation was blighted by the careless hand of war.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Before studying the special characteristics of this head of
+Athena and showing how, notwithstanding the very numerous
+representations of the warrior Goddess which we possess, it is
+entirely individual and unlike any other, we may do well to
+recall certain facts regarding Cyrene as a centre of Greek life
+and thought, facts that are not open to question, being proved
+by historical and other positive evidence. The accounts
+given by the ancient historians and poets of the foundation
+and rapid rise to wealth of Cyrene were sufficient to make us
+certain that the archæologist’s spade would find in plenty
+those beautiful monuments of a long-since vanished spirit
+which make the work of the excavator on Greek soil so entrancing
+and satisfying.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Even at inaccessible Cyrene, however, we were not the
+first. In the early sixties of the last century, Smith and
+Porcher, two fine examples of men of English breadth of
+view combined with well-trained and persistent capacity,
+had brought to light a considerable number of bits of sculpture
+which showed clearly that Cyrene, like every other
+Greek city, had once been a kindly nurse to artists. True
+though it be that these broken fragments now sheltered in the
+British Museum were, with the exception of a magnificent
+bronze head, of second-rate quality, still they dispelled all
+doubt regarding one very important point; that is, they showed
+that at Cyrene itself there were large numbers of sculptors
+whose technical skill was of a high order. That there were
+numerous sculptors was proved by the fact that the works
+found by Smith and Porcher embraced a long stretch of
+years.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p136a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>At first sight this fact may appear little noteworthy, and
+its bearing on our Athena head may not be perceived. It
+takes on a fresh aspect, however, when we realise that there
+is no marble to be found within hundreds of miles of Cyrene,
+and, in consequence, the stone must have been imported
+to the city. It might be suggested that not the
+marble but the finished carvings were imported, as we know
+from literary evidence was sometimes done in other parts of
+the Greek world. Had the English and ourselves found only
+one or two examples of supreme merit, this theory might be
+tenable. No one, however, will attempt to uphold it in the
+face of the numerous busts, statues, bas-reliefs, grave monuments
+and inscriptions, many of which are of very little
+importance, which were dug up by the Englishmen and ourselves.
+Portrait busts alone show that Cyrene had her own
+sculptors who, even though they lacked the advantage their
+<i>confrères</i> of many Greek cities had in near-by quarries, managed
+to overcome the difficulties Nature put in their way and
+struggled to a mastery of their chosen art. The bearing of
+this on the Athena will become manifest as we go further into
+the study of the subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>If only another Pausanias, one might suggest, had gone sightseeing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>and note-taking along the surprising shores of Libya,
+our work of interpretation had been far simpler. But though
+we are not helped by such written evidence, we can still discover
+the essential qualities and meanings of these sculptures,
+and the diggers who in years to come drive our trenches deeper
+into the ground will find nothing more unexpected than the
+Athena, for she is the drifted seaweed that proves the still
+invisible land. In fact, I for one am glad we have no Pausanias
+to dull the edge of our wits with his bald and often
+erroneous statements. He has helped much in making it
+possible to draw up chronological tables and schedules of
+all sorts regarding the development of Greek sculpture,
+yet had he never written, the true understanding of the art,
+the comprehension of the forces that moulded it from the
+days of its early promising effort through its bloom of unchallenged
+perfection on to its phosphorescent decay, would have
+been not less full and possibly even more intelligent than it
+is to-day. Pausanias and others of his kind have handed
+down many names which mean, in truth, no more to us than
+the titles “master this” or “master that” of the mediæval
+German school of painting. Such facts and data are of
+infinitely little importance. Even without them the razor-sharp
+critical powers of a Heinrich Brunn or an Adolf Furtwaengler
+(before he gave up his energy to acrimonious and
+petty dispute) were not to be denied and without any fictitious
+aid of names would have interpreted Greek art to us. That
+there are always blind souls who, when they see the Hermes
+of Praxiteles, think it Roman, and consider the Maiden of
+Anzio a work of the time of the Antonines, and who find other
+blind souls to follow them, does not delay the Brunns and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>Furtwaenglers when they make their rare appearance in the
+world of scholarship.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Thus with no help or suggestion derived from information
+given us by ancient travellers we start on our study of the
+Athena with the knowledge that the technique of the art
+of sculpture was so well understood, and the practice of it
+so common, at Cyrene, that we need not, unless forced by internal
+evidence, look elsewhere for the nameless sculptor who
+carved this masterpiece. The result will show that all the
+internal evidence is in favour of its Cyrenean origin.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Since, then, sculpture was at Cyrene, as everywhere else
+in the Greek world, one of the common modes of expression,
+it remains for us to study the influences to which it was
+subjected. We meet here the strange phenomenon that the
+millennial-old civilisation of Egypt exerted apparently no influence
+whatever on the young Greek town to the west. That
+towards the end of the latter’s career, when she had fallen
+under Ptolemaic control, she should be unaffected by Egyptian
+thought is not surprising, for Egypt herself had at that time
+submitted to the spell of Greece, and the true Egyptian art
+must have seemed to the fellahin who then cultivated the
+Nile valley almost as strange as it does to us. If, however,
+the often-expressed theory, supposed to be borne out by
+certain statues found on the Acropolis of Athens and elsewhere,
+that the archaic sculptors of the Greek mainland were
+more or less governed by Egyptian ideals, be true, then it is
+odd that even the most archaic art of Cyrene, represented by
+statuettes of the sixth century <span class='fss'>B.C.</span>, does not exhibit a similar
+tendency. But this belief in the Egyptian influence on the
+artists of Greece is based, it seems to me, on unsound evidence.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>There are obviously two, and only two, chief points to consider,
+if one would fully understand a work of art. One is its
+outer form, the other what it is trying to express; for even the
+childish and misdirected efforts of the “Futurists” are an
+endeavour to express something—how futile these efforts
+are is shown by the fact that were it not for the titles given
+the works by the Futurists themselves no one, no matter how
+capable an artist or how mystical a dreamer, could possibly
+guess what they were intended to represent. The works
+show an even greater confusion of mind than that of Father
+Castel who in the early part of the eighteenth century attempted
+to make instruments which he called <i>clavecin des
+couleurs</i> and <i>clavecin des odeurs</i>, instruments intended to produce
+by means of changing colours and perfumes the same
+effects as music.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Now one thing in very truth Greek art never was, either
+in poetry, sculpture, painting, or in any other form: it
+was never confused, but had always perfect lucidity. In
+sculpture, for instance, the composition of the groups and
+figures, though often displaying an intricacy almost as great
+as that of a knot by Leonardo, is never anything but clear
+to the trained eye. To understand the value of this quality
+one need only look at the work of Rodin, which, no matter
+what elements of greatness it may be thought to have, certainly
+has not one slightest atom of Greek quality. Besides
+the evil of confusion another failure sculpture may show is the
+stagnation of formalism. This is one of the most noticeable
+features of Egyptian art. Notwithstanding the wonderful
+technical dexterity of the workers in that land, hieratic influences
+were too strong for them and their natural impulses
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>were shackled by the bonds of dogma. This blight, too, the
+Greeks avoided. What then is the ground for maintaining that
+their early art was influenced by Egypt? That the early sculptors
+may have learnt many technical processes from Egyptians
+I would neither deny nor affirm. They may even have had
+Egyptian teachers, just as later the Romans had Grecian ones,
+but that does not mean that Greek art was of necessity
+moulded in accordance with Egyptian feelings and ideals.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>True it is that there are certain Greek statues which resemble
+in pose and stiffness certain Egyptian statues, but there
+is a fundamental difference between the two groups. The
+pose is an accident and can be duplicated in work from other
+parts of the world. The fundamental difference is that the
+stiffness of the Greek work does not represent the formalism
+of Egypt, but it is due to the awkwardness of inexperience.
+Take, for instance, the “Aunts” found on the Athenian
+Acropolis. They are by an unpractised, stiff hand and in that
+sense they are formal; but they are far more, delightfully
+spontaneous. Such work would have been inconceivable to
+an Egyptian and would have seemed to him irreligious and
+indecent. It is not to be thought that Greek art even in its
+period of fullest bloom was not formal; it was. It was the
+wonderful talent of the Greek clearly to understand the laws
+proper to the various arts, but he was always spontaneous and
+original, and his work exhibits formality but not formalism.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>These qualities are seen in the earliest work found at Cyrene,
+the terra-cottas already mentioned. That they should
+be so manifested is but another proof of the amazing force and
+individuality of the Greek mind. Any other race would almost
+surely have felt the influence of Egypt. Her territory joined
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>that of Cyrene on the eastern border and the land between
+the city and the Nile offered no barriers of mountains or
+desert to hinder easy and comparatively rapid communication,
+yet the outer form and inner content of these early Cyrenean
+figures is completely and unmistakably Greek. That traders
+passed back and forth from one region to the other cannot
+be doubted. Caravans plodded their slow way from the
+sacred fountain to the mysterious river, coastwise boats skirted
+the inhospitable shore even as they do to-day. The Greek,
+then as now the costermonger of the Mediterranean, made
+his money, but he kept his individuality. Throughout the
+centuries, until at last spiritual aloofness was trampled down
+by a ruder and more powerful race, at Cyrene as completely
+as at Athens, the Greek maintained his own standards and
+beliefs. As the clumsy terra-cottas, wrought not very long
+after the first settlers were guided to the spring which made
+a great city possible, show this, so also does the Athena.
+Individual she is, and unique, but she is pure Greek. The
+reasons for some part of her individuality will become clear
+as we study her still further.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>We see, then, that the Athena is a work expressing with unveiled
+distinctness the Greek spirit, and also that there is no
+reason to suppose that the sculptor was other than Cyrenean;
+it remains to find out at what date the figure was carved.
+Often a mere fragment like this exhibits some detail that
+makes it easy to fix the date of its origin with considerable
+accuracy. In this case the question is complicated by both
+technical points and general considerations. Had this head
+been found in Greece itself or in any part of the Greek portion
+of Asia Minor, the history of which is well known and the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>art of which has been laid bare by the archæologist, we should
+have various well-established criteria by which to test and
+estimate the head. But the definite historical records of
+Cyrene are very scanty, and though what is probably in general
+a fairly accurate idea of the development of the city can
+be built up from the verses of poets, the accounts of historians
+and other sources of various kinds, still there is little to help
+us date a single work of art. There is, however, no reason
+to suppose that the deeper currents which gave the course
+to the life of Cyrene were very different from those which
+guided the life of other colonies. Pindar’s odes alone would
+serve to show that the African city was in pretty constant
+relation with the mother country. Hence it is safe to assume
+that the arts developed in Cyrene very much as they did
+elsewhere in the Greek world.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>At the present time surely enough is known of the
+various parts of that world to make us realise that all advance
+did not spring from Greece herself. Though the Greek spirit
+was bound to express itself in similar forms wherever Greeks
+settled, still sometimes one region, sometimes another, was
+in the lead. Hence any chronological scale as applied to art
+must be elastic, and one must not give way to the temptation
+to judge every new find by the standards set by the artists
+of Greece herself. Provincialism and archaism often take
+similar external forms. So, too, it is a general law that colonies
+develop more rapidly than the country from which
+they spring. A rapid development may be brought about
+also by geographical and climatic conditions in places which,
+at first sight, do not appear to be conducive to the advancement
+of art.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>In years to come it will be proved beyond a doubt, I believe,
+that Cyrene was such a place. Her distance from the regions
+in which we are accustomed to think of the Greeks as working
+out their destiny saved her from the wastage of those wars
+which it is hard to regret because they have given us immortal
+pictures of Greek courage and devotion. What her relations
+with the native powers were we do not yet know, but had
+they led to any such struggles as made the pride of Athens
+and the other cities of the mother country, surely some echo
+would have reached our ears. So we may think of Cyrene
+as waxing fat from the moment when the first settlers, after
+their long wanderings to find a habitable spot, climbed the
+rocky hillsides and quenched their thirst at the spring which
+with its bright arms still holds a small settlement. It is for
+these general considerations of easy colonial growth, and freedom
+from external distractions, that I think the Athena can
+be safely dated rather earlier than we should be tempted to
+date her had she been found, let us say, in Athens or Sparta.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The technical point which I mentioned as making it difficult
+to date the head, is the helmet. It is of the Corinthian
+type, but there is nothing in its general shape or details of
+form by which a date can be fixed. Furthermore, it covers
+the head so completely that only a few waving locks of hair
+over each ear and the heavy braid resting on the nape of the
+neck are visible. This concealment of the hair takes away in
+large measure one of the most helpful methods of dating
+statuary.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p144a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>In the case of female figures, nevertheless, the treatment of the
+hair is less helpful, perhaps, than in statues of the rougher sex
+because in the former the more severe and orderly dressing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>of the bound locks gave less chance for individuality of treatment
+than did the crisp and wind-tossed curls of youths and
+men; still, even in the women’s figures the hair very often
+betrays the date of the sculptor. Few though the tresses
+are which escape the stern covering of Athena’s helmet, they
+are sufficient to help us in our elusive pursuit. The general
+method in which the hair is arranged, parted over the brow
+and drawn closely back above the ears to a knot or short
+doubled up braid at the back, is one that suffered but little
+change during several centuries. In the archaic time the
+locks fell more loosely behind, while in the fourth century
+they were more knotted, but these slight variations occur now
+and again throughout the whole period of great Greek art
+and were due more to individual fancy of artist or model than
+to the stifling rules of fashion.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>But though we must finally conclude that the mode of wearing
+the hair does not assist us, as the cut of the dress most
+certainly would have done had we been fortunate enough to
+find the body of the statue, still the tresses between the temple
+and the ear have a quality of their own which points to a definite
+time. They suggest the loose waving form of life with
+noteworthy success. The sculptor belonged to a period when
+the special nature of marble was thoroughly understood.
+The period had passed when bronze and marble were treated
+in almost identical fashion, and the time had come when sculptors
+could manage various materials with complete understanding
+and were enabled to reproduce surfaces or substances
+in the way best suited to malleable metal or to friable
+stone.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The most perfect example of this understanding of substance
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>which we possess, and one that has never been surpassed,
+is the head of Hermes by Praxiteles made in the first
+half of the fourth century before Christ. The hair of the
+Athena is handled in much the same way. The locks and
+strands are not sharply outlined and separated one from another
+but flow from brow to neck in subtly broken masses
+among which the light plays in and out as softly as in nature.
+This naturalistic treatment became common after it had once
+been arrived at, but the tendency after the end of the fourth
+century was to try for purer realism. This could not be
+attained by greater skill in modelling and carving but only
+by polishing or engraving the surface. The Athena exhibits
+neither of these signs of decadence but the surface still shows
+that lovely dusty softness which is characteristic of the best
+work of the late fifth and early fourth centuries, a softness
+which would not have been imperceptible and lacking in
+effect even when the figure was tinted with colour, as, probably,
+all Greek sculpture was.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is not only the hair which suggests the date of the early
+fourth century as the time when the Athena was made. The
+broad chin, projecting well away from the neck, a chin that
+would be heavy, were it not for the exquisiteness of its outline,
+which seems to have the living force of a coiled steel
+spring, is such as was common in the fifth and early fourth
+centuries. So, too, are the broad set, wide opened eyes overhung
+by the long low curve of the brow. Not a sign in these
+of the sentimentally dreaming eyes with their melting lower
+lids which we associate with the work of the imitators and
+followers of Praxiteles; not a trace of the furrowed brow and
+the eye gleaming, like a live coal, from the deep shadowed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>socket such as we see in the work of Scopas and the superb
+masters of Pergamon.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In discussing such a fragment as this Athena it cannot be too
+clearly remembered that the sculptor, like the poet, does but
+express his own day, and if Praxiteles was delicate and sentimental
+or Scopas forceful and passionate, it was because
+these were characteristic qualities of their periods. These
+are, furthermore, exactly the qualities one would expect at
+a time when old standards were beginning to be doubted and
+the future offered nothing so substantial to take their place.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The same phenomenon is seen in the seventeenth century
+of our era. In both periods thoughtful people either clung to
+a sentimental repetition of old ideas which no longer had life-giving
+and creative force, but were loved and dwelt on for
+the sake of old association, or else they were driven to a passionate
+striving after new and dimly seen hopes and ideals.
+Sentimental dreaming took the place of good hope and assurance
+while mystical passion took that of intelligent piety.
+In the face of the Athena there is seen no sign of a troubled
+spirit, she is calm and steadfast with the strength of perfect
+self-poise, which could hardly be, were she sprung from a later
+time than the early fourth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It has been insisted that there is in this head no trace
+of sentimentality, and it may be thought that I have failed to
+notice, or to give due weight to, the curious pose, drooping
+over slightly to one side. This is one of the most noticeable
+points about the head, but, to my mind, it expresses a feeling
+common in the fifth and early fourth centuries and is not
+motived in the slightest degree by the later sentimentality.
+In the old man seated on the ground in the Olympia pediment,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>in the Mourning Athena at Athens, in most of the grave
+steles of the late fifth and early fourth centuries, in the portrait
+bust of Pericles, is to be seen, in the pose and expression
+of the figures, the expression of a deep sentiment of combined
+gravity and tenderness. Again and again this sentiment is
+expressed by the great dramatists in words that ring down
+the centuries like distant bells. It is the recognition of
+suffering and sorrow but also of the self-control that meets
+them undismayed. When the Greeks lost their faith, at the
+same time they lost this control. In the Demeter of Cnidos
+and the portrait of Mausolus there are unmistakable signs
+of lack of control,—in the former the startled pose, and in the
+latter the look of distress plainly visible in the fine and vigorous
+face. The Athena resembles the Pericles and the grave
+steles in this respect. The head leans over as though bent by
+the wind (a position which emphasises the exquisite shape of
+the neck), but in the steady, quiet eyes and in the sensitive
+closed lips one sees plainly that simple directness that distinguished
+the Greeks of the period to which I attribute this
+head, from all the other peoples who have inhabited this
+earth.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I have just mentioned the mouth of the figure, and this is
+the feature to which I referred before as showing, possibly,
+the effect of local circumstance on the sculptor. It is a very
+noticeable mouth; large with unusually full and richly modelled
+lips—lips that could send the battle cry echoing across
+the scarred and rock-strewn hills or could whisper like the
+brook beneath the rosy-plumed oleanders. In shape it is
+by no means a typical Greek mouth, but has a trace of the
+fuller form common to the Libyans with whom the Cyreneans
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>were in constant and close intercourse. While it is true that
+history fails to note a single case of an individual of pure
+black blood accomplishing anything of note except in a military
+way, such do often possess great beauty of form and
+feature, and this fact has been seized upon by the sculptor
+of the Athena. With great skill he has softened the somewhat
+savage shape and given it the lines that are consequent
+upon a higher civilization.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>We have come now to the end of our study of this bit of
+sculpture. It could be compared indefinitely with other
+heads, and the similarities or differences could be pointed out.
+Little would result, however, from such comparisons. What
+is needed is more sculpture from the same region with which
+to study the Athena. But till this is forthcoming, we are left
+to the general conclusions derived from this single example.
+These conclusions are that the Athena was carved by some as
+yet unknown artist at Cyrene in the first half of the fourth
+century <span class='fss'>B.C.</span> and that the work differs from the Greek work we
+are accustomed to in showing local characteristics both in
+special features and in method. This may seem to be of small
+importance and the head to be unworthy so elaborate a discussion;
+such would be the case were we to think of it merely
+as an archæological remnant of a forgotten city and time.
+But this head is more than a mere bit of flotsam. It is not
+a dead and meaningless fragment, but has still the suggestive
+and creative power of any true work of art. This vitality
+and artistic veracity are shown by the extreme clearness with
+which it illustrates two of the fundamental characteristics
+of the Greek genius—humanism and directness.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The simplicity and directness of the Greek showed itself
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>in all he did or made. He never attributed human emotions
+to nature and never bound himself with dogmatic conventions.
+For these reasons he was never sentimental and never
+dry or false. He saw ugliness, moral as well as material, in
+the world around him, but recognising that it in no way added
+to happiness, he did not wallow in it and proclaim himself a
+“realist.” When he came to consider religion he was straightforward
+in his treatment of the Gods as he was with himself.
+They were but a superior race born from the same great mother
+Earth (Pindar, Nem. VI. 1). Athena, the Goddess, is but a
+woman and nothing more. He saw beautiful women in the
+cities where he dwelt and in form of their physical perfection
+he represented the bright-eyed Goddess. He sought no imaginary
+qualities, he attempted to express no hazy, mystical
+dreams but finding beauty in mankind, he was satisfied to reproduce
+it so well as might be.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Ordinary everyday life was the chief interest of the thoughtful
+Greek. He had the same circumstances of existence around
+him as we have to-day, and knew just as much of the origin
+or the end of it all. Life, death and the passing show of time
+were his schoolmasters as they are ours, and from them he
+learnt humanism. He thought of the world not as a blind accident
+nor as a mystical promise but merely as the setting for
+man and hence the conduct of life became his chief interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Greek sought for all means whereby he might avoid the
+pitfalls of youth, secure the comforts of well-rounded growth
+and minimise the weaknesses and griefs of old age. To
+attain this ideal certain things were seen to be necessary,
+and from Solon, who considered that the man was happy
+who had health, good fortune, good looks and children, to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>Aristotle, who (Rhet. 1360 b, 14) gave the same definition in a
+more amplified form, the ideal did not alter. Even to-day
+there is but one part of this that seems strange to us. That
+is the stress laid on personal beauty. Good fortune, health,
+wisdom, children and particularly wealth go to form the
+general ideal of the modern world, but there can be only few
+who would admit that the desire for physical beauty was part
+and parcel of their ideal. The Greek on the other hand
+frankly desired it almost more than anything else and showed
+his perfectly simple and entirely pleasant belief in its value
+by his games and by many a story which he told as illustrative
+of enduring truths. One of these tales has a bearing on the
+Athena of Cyrene. It is that of Peisistratus, who in order to
+become ruler of Athens came there accompanied by a beautiful
+woman in regard to whom he told the credulous citizens
+that she was the Goddess Athena herself.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Thus we see that it is due to no mere partiality for the pleasing
+form on the part of the unknown sculptor that this head
+from Cyrene is beautiful, but because his brain and hand were
+guided by ideals that were second nature to him. As we grow
+familiar with the head, the loveliness of every feature, the sharp
+insistence on sweet feminine beauty make one wish destruction
+might fall on the vague and dreamy and contorted realisms with
+which many of the modern artists would attract our attention.
+The calm and steadfast eyes look at us across the centuries
+and question our mysticism. The straightforward, immediate,
+perfect humanity gives us pause in our mad search for
+novelty, and should we conclude that this is perfect art, though
+we may lose the sympathy of our contemporaries, we shall
+win the companionship of those whose laurels are immortal.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>
+  <h2 class='c005'>GIORGIONE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span><i>Although in the following Study of Giorgione I express certain conclusions
+which seem to me certain, it is nevertheless probable that there will never be
+absolute agreement about his works. The indubitable facts concerning him are
+so very few that no two critics can be expected to see the matter eye to eye. I
+disagree in many points with the pathbreakers Morelli and Berenson, but it
+should not be forgotten that the knowledge of such men gives an added keenness
+to the innate powers of perception of those who come after them. Their torch
+lights ours, and so the path is pursued.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c007'><i>The publication of Justi’s valuable work on Giorgione (Berlin, 1908), in
+which all the pictures still in existence that have bearing on Giorgione are reproduced,
+makes full illustration of this Study quite unnecessary.</i></p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>
+  <h3 class='c021'>I. PAINTINGS ATTRIBUTED TO GIORGIONE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c022'>A great upheaval and destruction of old traditions has
+taken place of late years in regard to paintings, and while
+much truth has been brought to light, a great deal of fancy
+has been given the semblance of veracity. The name of
+Morelli is familiar to all who take a serious interest in the
+paintings of the Italian schools, and though he was not the
+first to practise what not inaptly has been dubbed the ‘toe-nail’
+method of criticism, yet his writings are more voluminous
+than those of other authors, and exemplify this method
+of criticism more completely, so that he may be taken as the
+protagonist of the school. It was the development of photography,
+and the vast increase in the number of pictures of
+which photographs could be procured, which gave rise to the
+Morellian school. The writers of earlier days who could not
+have before them on their tables, or carry with them to the
+galleries, a large quantity of reproductions of the works of
+any one master, were in a large measure prevented from studying
+the comparative likenesses or dissimilarities of such pictures.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>But, as was natural, with this intensive study of photographs
+has come about a microscopic method of looking at
+pictures which often disregards the larger and more unquestionable
+qualities, and satisfies itself with tricks of drawing and
+the painting of details. It is as though instead of considering
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>the structure and content of a book, one should measure
+the lines and number the punctuation points. It is within
+the realm of possibility that the day has passed for treatises
+based on such thorough study and acute perception of the
+qualities expressed by the Italian painters as were written
+by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, or such magnificently imaginative
+and poetic interpretations as the enduring verities first
+enunciated by Ruskin.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Not that these men did not make mistakes. Had they
+never done so we should not be able to give a true valuation
+to their work. Stupidity is not demonstrated by the making
+of blunders but by the spirit that animates the person at the
+moment of their commission. Ruskin, to illustrate by means
+of the brightest example, realised that paintings are expressions
+of thought just as much as are printed books, and that
+they are to be read and understood not by adding the vowels
+together in one heap and the consonants in another, but in
+their entirety.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Morelli and his followers, on the other hand, are obviously
+in large measure satisfied by an analysis of external forms and
+if they discover that each of two pictures presents the same
+number of curved and straight lines, no further proof is needed
+to satisfy them that the same author is responsible for both
+works. It is true that details of style must be studied and
+were often neglected by the earlier critics, but the famous proof
+of the identity of Moses and Melchisedek—“you take off
+the -<i>oses</i> and add the -<i>elchisedek</i>”—will never satisfy many
+people. Morelli forgot that it requires no special perception
+to discover that Botticelli gave his figures square nails on
+their toes and fingers, or that the knuckles of Rosselli’s figures
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>are apt to be swollen. But it is exactly this kind of observation
+which copyists possess. By the observation of such
+points one is able to say only that such and such a work is
+externally like the works of this or that artist, but that it is
+by him depends on quite other proofs.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>One or two examples will show the fallacy of such a method
+of argument. There is in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts
+a picture representing the Virgin and Child with St. John.
+The name of Botticelli is on the frame. So far as finger nails
+or shape of nostril or locks of hair or position of fingers go
+(and all these details are peculiarly treated by Botticelli), the
+work might be considered to be by him. It is, however,
+certain that Botticelli was not the painter of the panel.
+Among several circumstances that demonstrate this, such as
+the method of painting employed by the artist, there is one
+that has to do with the spirit of the work, and which in itself
+is sufficient proof: I refer to the figure of St. John. We have
+enough works by Botticelli, the authenticity of which is established
+beyond all question, to know that he could never at
+any period of his career have represented this character with
+a simper that reminds one of Francia’s sentimental figures.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The picture is by a feeble imitator of the master. The works
+of Botticelli and his imitators offer, because of the very marked
+peculiarities of the master, extremely good examples to show
+what mistakes arise by relying too exclusively on the Morellian
+method, and in both public and private collections are
+many pictures showing the mannerisms of the Florentine but
+which are certainly not by him.<a id='r36'></a><a href='#f36' class='c015'><sup>[36]</sup></a> Take another master,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>Leonardo. There has lately gone to America<a id='r37'></a><a href='#f37' class='c015'><sup>[37]</sup></a> a panel representing
+the head of a woman. It was left by Morelli when
+he died to Donna Laura Minghetti. To the followers of
+Morelli, the picture seemed for a long time genuine enough,
+but when the style of the headdress, the tone of the colour
+and character of the painting, and lastly the position of the
+head on the panel itself, had been studied, it became evident
+that the painting was a modern forgery, and this was further
+proved when an attempt was made to clean the panel.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>These illustrations are sufficient to show that the final
+judgment of a picture should be based on more than its technical
+peculiarities. The observation of these is good to begin
+with, but it does not suffice. That even Morelli himself
+instinctively felt the weakness of his method is shown in a
+most humorous way in his description of his “discovery” of
+the author of a portrait of a woman in the Borghese Gallery.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>He tells us how before he looked at this canvas with
+<i>kritischem Auge</i> he had first thought it to be by Dosso Dossi
+and then by Sebastiano Luciani. The rest is too naïve to translate,
+it must be given verbatim. “Eines Tages jedoch, als ich
+wieder fragend und entzückt vor dem mysteriösen Bilde stand,
+begegnete mein eigener Geist dem des Künstlers, welcher aus
+diesen weiblichen Zügen heraussah und siehe da, in der gegenseitigen
+Berührung zündete es plötzlich wie ein Funken
+und ich rief in meiner Freude aus: Nur du, mein Freund,
+Giorgione kannst es sein, und das Bild antwortete: Ja, ich
+bin’s”; and then follows analysis and dissection of the
+portrait.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The still small voice of his soul having interpreted the riddle
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>of the picture he <i>then</i> saw that the eye, the expression, the
+mouth were such as only Giorgione could paint. In a critical
+case like this Morelli had to look first to something other than
+anatomical or sartorial shapes. Unfortunately, in this particular
+case, he has convinced but few students by this sudden
+and mysterious interpretation of the picture, and only his
+most ardent apostles see in the ill-drawn portrait anything
+but a feeble imitation of certain of the less subtle qualities of
+the great Venetian.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Morelli made, however, other discoveries in regard to
+Giorgione of greater import than this; but before taking them
+up in detail it will be worth while to fix clearly in our minds
+what we know about the Venetian’s work from contemporary
+or approximately contemporary writers. Vasari and Ridolfi
+do not, indeed, fail to give the name of Giorgione to many a
+picture that had never felt the artist’s brush, but they saw
+many a picture that has since disappeared and what they tell
+us is the basis of all modern criticism of this most poetic of
+all the Venetians. I believe it can be shown that much which
+the earlier writers said of him, and which has since been forgotten
+or unwisely disregarded, is true.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I will say nothing of the life that Giorgio Barbarelli Giorgione,
+Zorzone as his comrade Venetians called him, led.
+That has little to do with us. I wish merely to show which
+pictures now labelled with his name may in my opinion be
+confidently accepted as his, and which ones we are justified
+in taking from him. In his early days he painted, says
+Vasari, in the second edition of the “Lives”:</p>
+
+  <dl class='dl_1'>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>1. Many pictures of the Virgin.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>2. David, armed and with long hair, holding the head of Goliath.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>3. Warrior with a red cap, a fur cloak and a silk jacket.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd><span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>4. Child. (2, 3, and 4 were owned by the Patriarch of Aquileia.)
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>5. Portrait of Giovanni Borgherini and his master.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>6. Head of a warrior, owned by Anton de’ Nobili in Florence.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>7. Portrait of Consalvo Ferrante.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>8. Portrait of the Doge Leonardo Loredano.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>9. Many other portraits.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>10. Frescoes on the Ca Soranzo in Venice—one representing a figure of Spring.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>11. Frescoes on the front of the Fondaco de’ Tedeschi—the scenes were apparently 
+    fantastical or allegorical.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>12. Christ carrying the cross, in the church of San Rocco.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>13. A nude figure to show that by means of reflections painting is able to show all parts 
+    of a thing at once.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>14. Portrait of Catharine, Queen of Cyprus.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>15. Portrait of one of the Fugger family.
+    </dd>
+    </dl>
+
+<p class='c007'>This list suffices to show that Vasari’s knowledge of Giorgione’s
+work was slight—and we can prove furthermore it was
+also imperfect. This is disheartening enough, but a still greater
+disappointment comes from the fact that of this list of fifteen
+numbers (including of course many more than fifteen pictures)
+there are but five of which either the originals or copies are
+preserved to-day. These five are Nos. 2, 5 (?), 11, 12, and
+15. Numbers 5 and 15 are certainly not by Giorgione. The
+former is not improbably the picture in Berlin (No. 152) of
+which a replica is in the Louvre (No. 1156), both pictures attributed
+merely to the Venetian school, and the latter hangs in the
+Munich Gallery (No. 1107) under the name of Cariani.<a id='r38'></a><a href='#f38' class='c015'><sup>[38]</sup></a> No. 2
+is usually thought to be the picture in Vienna, but Justi (Georgione,
+p. 182) shows that it may be a picture in Brunswick.<a id='r39'></a><a href='#f39' class='c015'><sup>[39]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>Ridolfi gives a much longer list of Giorgione’s works:</p>
+
+  <dl class='dl_1'>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>16. Madonna enthroned, in the church of San Liberale in Castelfranco. Portraits.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>17. The dead Christ held by angels, at Treviso.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>18. Frescoes on Giorgione’s own house in Venice. Figures and fantasies.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>Frescoes on the Ca Soranzo (same as No. 10). Destroyed all but a woman with flowers in 
+    her hand and Vulcan who whips Cupid.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>19. Fables from Ovid; among them Apollo and Daphne, and Zeus as a bull with Europa on his 
+    back. These showed strong landscape feeling. Gigantomachia. Deucalion and Pyrrha. Apollo 
+    and the Python. Apollo and Daphne. Io. Phaethon. Pyrrhus and Phlegon. Eos. Diana and 
+    Callisto. Mercury stealing Apollo’s herds. Jove and Europa. Cadmus and serpents’ teeth. 
+    Actæon. Venus and Mars caught by Vulcan. Niobe. Jove and Mercury at the house of Baucis. 
+    Ariadne. Alcides. Achelous. Deianeira. Loves of Apollo and Hyacinth. Venus and Adonis. 
+    Those owned by Sig. Vidman were: birth of Adonis, Adonis and Venus, Adonis’s death.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>Portraits (cf. No. 9): Agostino Barbarigo, Catharine Cornaro (perhaps the same as No. 
+    14), Consalvo Ferrante.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>20. Frescoes on the Ca Grimani alla Servisa (Nude woman of beautiful form); on a house on 
+    the Campo di Santo Stefano, near S. M. Giubenico (Bacchus, Venus and Mars, half figures, 
+    grotesques and <i>putti</i>); and on the Fondaco de’ Tedeschi (same as No. 11), 
+    <i>trofei</i>, nudes, heads, allegorical figures measuring the world. Man on horseback.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>21. A concert (now in the Pitti).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>22. Allegory of human life in Casa Cassinelli, Genoa (Nurse holding crying child, and a 
+    knight; Youth disputing with Philosophers, and an old man).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>23. Celius Plotius attacked by Claudius.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>24. Family group—un vecchio in atto di castrare un gatto.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>25. Naked woman and shepherd. She smiles at him as he plays his pipe.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>26. David, a knight and a soldier, owned by And. Vendramin.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>27. Naked Venus “ignuda dormiente,—è in Casa Marcella è a piedi è Cupido con augellino in 
+    mano.”
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>28. Woman dressed as a gipsy, in house of Gio. Batt. Sanuto.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>29. Saul holding by the hair the head of Goliath brought to him by David. Owned by the 
+    Signori Leoni di San Lorenzo.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>30. Judgment of Paris, owned by the Signori Leoni di San Lorenzo.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>31. Judgment of Solomon, in Casa Grimana di Santo Ermacora; the figure of the executioner 
+    unfinished. (Now at Kingston Lacy, England.)
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>32. Virgin, St. Jerome and other figures, owned by Signor Gussoni.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd><span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>33. Warrior, owned by Signor Ruzzini.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>34. Knight with black armour, owned by Signori Contarini da S. Samuello.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>35. Half figure of St. Jerome reading, owned by Signori Malipieri.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>36. Portraits of Luigi Crasso, seated, with spectacles in his hand. Owned by Nicolo 
+    Crasso.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>37. Story of Psyche. Twelve pictures.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>38. St. Sebastian, in the Chiesa della Annunciata, Cremona.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>39. St. Sebastian,—three-quarter length, owned by Prince Aldobrandini.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>40. David, owned by Prince Borghese.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>41. A youth with a curious fur cloak, owned by Signori Muselli in Verona.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>42. Christ led to Calvary, with Mary and the virgin Veronica, figures half life size.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>43. Head of Polyphemus.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>44. Portraits of women with strange ornaments and feathers in their hair.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>David with long hair, dressed in a corselet and with the left hand in the hair of the 
+    head of Goliath (same as No. 2). This was a portrait of himself.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>45. A general.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>46. Youth with soft hair and armed.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>Portrait of one of the Fuggers (same as No. 15).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>47. A nude figure with a green cloth over his knees and armour beside him, owned by Van 
+    Veert in Antwerp.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>48. ‘Some say that he began’ the picture of Pope Alexander III and Frederick I in the 
+    Sala del Maggior Consiglio in Venice.
+    </dd>
+    </dl>
+
+<p class='c007'>This list is disappointing in the same way as the previous
+one, but, nevertheless, several of the numbers may be added
+to the list of pictures which are preserved. Besides those
+already noted in Vasari’s list Nos. 16, 17, 19 (?), 21, 23,
+26, 27, 30, 31, 38, 40, exist in one form or another, but
+Nos. 17, 21, 23, 38 and 40, though still preserved, are not by
+Giorgione. No. 17 has nothing whatever to do with Giorgione,
+and is attributed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle to Pordenone.
+Whether this is by him is more than doubtful; I
+will speak of it in detail and also of 21 later. No. 23, called
+The Bravo, is in Vienna and is perhaps by Cariani; 30 is
+probably by Campagnola and is known by copies.<a id='r40'></a><a href='#f40' class='c015'><sup>[40]</sup></a> No. 38 is in
+the Brera and is by Dosso Dossi, who was also the painter of
+40, which is still in the Borghese Gallery. No. 48 was probably
+the same picture as that mentioned in the Venetian archives
+under date of August 14, 1507, and was probably destroyed in
+the fire of 1575.<a id='r41'></a><a href='#f41' class='c015'><sup>[41]</sup></a></p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p162a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>Another author from whom we are able to gather more and
+important information, is Marc Antonio Michiel, more commonly
+known as the Anonimo Morelli. Among the pictures
+which he saw in Venice and neighbouring towns were several
+attributed to Giorgione:</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>/#
+49. Head of a boy holding an arrow. Owned by Ant. Pasqualino, who
+obtained it from Zuanne Ram.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>50. Head of San Giacomo holding a pilgrim’s staff. Owned by Ant.
+Pasqualino.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Anonimo states that this was either by Giorgione or by one of
+his pupils and that it was copied from the Christ in the Church of
+San Rocco.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>51. St. Jerome, nude, seated in a desert place in the moonlight; “copied
+from a work by Giorgione.” Owned by And. Odoni.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>52. Three Philosophers. Owned by Taddeo Contarino.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>53. Hell, with Æneas and Anchises. Owned by Taddeo Contarino.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>54. Landscape with the birth of Paris. “One of his early works.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>55. Portrait of Geronimo Marcello, armed,—the body turned away
+from, and the head towards, the spectator. Owned by Geronimo
+Marcello.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Nude Venus, sleeping in the open air. “The landscape and the
+Cupid were finished by Titian.” Owned by Geronimo Marcello
+(same as No. 27).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>58. St. Jerome reading. Half figure (same as No. 35?). Owned by
+Geronimo Marcello.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>59. Soldier armed, but without a helmet. Half figure. Owned by
+Zuanantonio Venier.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>60. Head of a shepherd. In his hand a fruit. Owned by Zuanne Ram.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Head of boy. In his hand an arrow. Owned by Zuanne Ram
+(same as No. 49).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>61. Stormy landscape with a gipsy and a soldier. Owned by Gabriel
+Vendramin.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>62. Dead Christ and an angel holding him above the tomb. Finished
+by Titian. Owned by Gabriel Vendramin.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>63. Nude figure in a landscape. Pen drawing. Owned by Michiel
+Contarini.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>64. Finished picture of No. 63. Owned by Michiel himself.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>65. Portrait of Giorgione’s father. Owned by Piero Servio.
+#/</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of this list, the particular value of which lies in the fact that
+it was made by one whose early years were probably contemporary
+with the close of Giorgione’s life, Nos. 52, 54, 61 and
+perhaps 62<a id='r42'></a><a href='#f42' class='c015'><sup>[42]</sup></a> are still (either the originals or copies) in existence.
+No. 59 suggests a picture in the Colonna Gallery in
+Rome which has much Giorgionesque feeling, but is in a ruined
+condition.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Still another writer who mentions several pictures by the
+master is Giacomo Barri. I quote the passages from the English
+translation of his book:<a id='r43'></a><a href='#f43' class='c015'><sup>[43]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Page 106. Castelfranco. “Here is an admirable Picture of the <i>Blessed
+Virgin with her Son</i>, the work of <i>Giorgione</i>. There are likewise divers
+Palaces near adjacent where you will find works of the same <i>Giorgone</i> as
+also of Paulo Veronese.” (Same as No. 16.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Venice, page 52. “And upon a front of a House near the house of the
+<i>Pisani</i>, and the Palace of the <i>Flangini</i>, in <i>S. Maria Gibenigo</i>, there are
+painted by the hand of <i>Giogone</i>, many <i>Freezes</i> in <i>Chiaro Scuro</i>, in Yellow,
+Red, and Green, with rare fancies of <i>Boys</i>, in the middle of which are four
+Half-figures, <i>viz.</i>, A <i>Bacchus</i>, a <i>Venus</i>, a <i>Mars</i>, and a <i>Mercury</i>, coloured
+after the usual manner of the Author.” (There is a note added to the
+words “the usual manner” which reads: “Which was not to paint in
+above two or three colours.”) (Cf. No. 20.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Page 56. The ‘Fontico de Todeseti’ is mentioned. (Same as No. 11.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Page 56. “In the field or place before S. Pauls you plainly see upon the
+Front of the House of <i>Soranzo</i> several Figures of Giorgone, most beautiful
+things.” (Same as No. 10.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Page 67. “The <i>albergo</i> of the said school [School of St. Marks]. As
+you enter, the first square on your left hand is by <i>Giorgone</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>Page 84. “<i>The Church of the</i> Hospital <i>of the</i> Incurabili.” “And over a
+side Door of the Church you may observe a little Square of our <i>Saviour
+carrying the Cross</i> and an Executioner drawing him along, by the hand of
+<i>Giorgone</i>.” (Same as No. 12.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Treviso, page 97. “The Mountain of Piety <i>in the aforesaid</i> City.” “Here
+they preserve a <i>Christ</i> with a little <i>Angel</i>, a most singular work, by the
+hand of Giorgone.” (Same as No. 17.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>Cremona, page 114. “Here is a picture of S. <i>Sebastian</i> and two <i>Angels</i>
+by the hand of Giorgone.” (Same as No. 38.)</p>
+
+<p class='c008'>67. Parma, page 126. In the Palace of the <i>Fontana</i>. “There is also the
+picture of <i>Fra Sebastiano del Piombo</i>, a Painter, the work of <i>Giorgone</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Only two pictures (66, 67) not mentioned by the other
+authors are given in this list, and one of these, the portrait of
+Sebastiano del Piombo, has, I believe, been lost sight of. The
+picture that was in the School of St. Marks now hangs in the
+Academia in Venice. It represents the story of the calming
+of a storm by the saints Nicholas, George and Mark. Some
+students consider this picture to be a work by Giorgione much
+repainted by Palma or Paris Bordone. Others, with whom I
+agree, fail to see in this ugly work the slightest suggestion of
+Giorgione.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>These then are the chief early sources for our knowledge
+of the subjects painted by Giorgione. If the list of his works
+seems small, it must be remembered that the painter was only
+some thirty-three years old when he died. The inaccuracy of
+the attributions made by these writers shows how careful one
+must be in dealing with the information they give us, and suggests
+the reflection that probably they were as careless in
+failing to speak of works that were certainly by the master
+as they were in mentioning others which unquestionably were
+not by him. All new attributions must, however, be based on
+a comparison with the few works which unbroken tradition
+and common consent give to Giorgione, and not with those
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>about which trained opinion differs. Individual judgment as
+to the likeness one picture bears to another is very different
+from convincing proof. Before criticising individual works
+we must consider the basis for discussion that the lists present.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of the sixty-seven different items mentioned, the following
+are known to us.<a id='r44'></a><a href='#f44' class='c015'><sup>[44]</sup></a> 1 (?), 2, 5 (?), 11, 12, 15, 16, 17, 19 (?),
+21 (?), 23, 26 (?), 27, 29 (?), 30, 31, 38, 40 (?), 42 (?), 52, 54,
+61, 62 (?), 66. Of these only 2, 5 (?), 11, 12, 16, 21 (?), 22 (?),
+26 (?), 27, 31, 52, 54, 61, 62 (?) need be considered as being
+related in any close way to Giorgione. The claims of Cariani,
+Licinio, Della Vecchia, and the host of other, generally feeble,
+imitators of Giorgione to the other pictures may be studied
+in Crowe and Cavalcaselle, or later works. Even some of the
+works included in the small list just given are not accepted as
+genuine by all the critics, but a few there are the authenticity
+of which could only be questioned by bringing much more
+serious evidence against them than I have ever seen adduced.
+These rare, choice works are:</p>
+
+  <dl class='dl_1'>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>2. David, armed, holding the head of Goliath. Now in Vienna. This is not the original, 
+    but, as noted by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, a late copy. I own another copy, on panel, which 
+    shows the lower part of the picture better than the Vienna copy.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>11. Frescoes on the Fondaco dei Tedeschi. Preserved, except a fragment only, in Zanetti’s 
+    engravings.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>12. Christ carrying the Cross, in the Church of San Rocco, Venice.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>16. Madonna enthroned, in the Church of San Liberale in Castelfranco.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>27. Naked Venus, asleep, in Dresden. Some critics still hesitate to accept Morelli’s 
+    attribution of this canvas to Giorgione, but the greater number have, I believe, given a 
+    ready assent.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>31. The Judgment of Solomon. Now at Kingston Lacy (Plate LXII). This, the Castelfranco 
+    Madonna, and the Three Philosophers, are in certain ways the most important works of the 
+    painter now existing.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd><span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>52. Three Philosophers. In Vienna (Plate LXVI).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>54. Landscape with the Birth of Paris. A fragment of a poor copy of this is preserved in 
+    Buda-Pesth. An engraving by T. van Kessel from a copy of the picture by Teniers shows 
+    what the whole composition was.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>61. Stormy landscape, with a gypsy and a soldier. In the Palazzo Giovanelli, Venice 
+    (Plate LXV).
+    </dd>
+    </dl>
+
+<p class='c007'>To these nine unquestioned works by Giorgione are to be
+added others that have no early literary evidence to bear
+out their claims to a Giorgionesque origin, but which unbroken
+tradition resisting even the assaults of modern criticism has
+assigned to this category. Such are:</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Judgment of Solomon, in the Uffizi.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Fire-test of Moses, in the Uffizi.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Knight of Malta, in the Uffizi.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Head of Christ carrying the Cross, formerly in the Palazzo Loschi Vicenza,
+and now in Mrs. Gardner’s Collection in Boston (Plate LXVII).</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Study for the figure of San Liberale, in the Castelfranco picture, in the
+National Gallery, London.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>So far as the giving of any certain knowledge of Giorgione’s
+technique is concerned, the first three of these pictures are very
+disappointing, for all of them have been so thoroughly repainted
+that the original work is much injured. While most
+critics follow the tradition and believe Giorgione to have been
+the painter of these pictures, there are those who do not hold
+this opinion. For instance, Dr. Bode, one of the keenest
+judges of pictures, does not think the Judgment of Solomon,
+and the Trial of Moses, to be by him.<a id='r45'></a><a href='#f45' class='c015'><sup>[45]</sup></a> Others there are who
+think that the judgment passed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle on
+the Knight of Malta is very sound and satisfactory. They
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>say: “Giorgione’s work was altered by later retouching, or
+the painter is a skilful imitator of Giorgione’s manner.”
+Personally, I believe all these to be by him.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Taking now these fragments of written evidence and of
+tradition, let us see what the modern writers of most repute
+have considered to be examples of Giorgione’s work. To
+begin with Crowe and Cavalcaselle, they give as true Giorgiones
+the following:</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Fondaco de’ Tedeschi.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Christ in San Rocco.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Judgment of Solomon at Kingston Lacy.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Chaldæan Sages (the Three Philosophers).</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Family of Giorgione (the picture in the Giovanelli Palace).</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Castelfranco Madonna.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The David in Vienna, of which they say “this is a late copy, perhaps
+after the original noted by Vasari.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of the traditional pictures they consider as the master’s work:</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Judgment of Solomon, in the Uffizi.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Trial of Moses, in the Uffizi.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Knight of Malta (?), in the Uffizi.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>They add:</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Shepherd’s Offering in the Beaumont (now Lord Allandale’s) Collection,
+London.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Adoration of the Magi, in the National Gallery, London; formerly
+owned by Sir William Miles, of Leigh Court.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>These last two pictures are much less well known than the
+others. I shall endeavour to show that the later attributions
+of them to Catena or others are based on a mistaken idea of
+Giorgione’s style (not to mention Catena’s), and that Crowe
+and Cavalcaselle were perfectly right in their estimate of them.
+Other pictures which are often thought of in connection with
+Giorgione and which they, quite rightly I believe, refused to
+acknowledge, are:</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p168a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c023'><span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>The Concert, in the Pitti.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Fête Champêtre, in the Louvre.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Madonna and Saints, in the Louvre.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Nymph and Satyr, in the Pitti.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Head of a Boy, at Hampton Court.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>The Madonna and Child with St. Brigida, in Madrid.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>To take more modern writers, we find a very different list
+of works attributed to Giorgione by Morelli.<a id='r46'></a><a href='#f46' class='c015'><sup>[46]</sup></a> It consists of
+the following:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Trial of Moses.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Judgment of Solomon.<a id='r47'></a><a href='#f47' class='c015'><sup>[47]</sup></a></div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Christ bearing the Cross.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Madonna of Castelfranco.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Gypsy and the Soldier (Giovanelli Palace).</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>* The Madonna and Child with Sts. Antony and Roch. (Madrid.)</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Knight of Malta.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>† * Daphne and Apollo. This is in the Seminario of St<sup>a</sup> Maria della Salute in Venice. Crowe and Cavalcaselle (II. 165) attribute it to Andrea Schiavone, and with their opinion I agree.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>* The Three Ages of Man, in the Uffizi, ascribed usually to Lotto.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Concert, in the Louvre. (Same as Crowe and Cavalcaselle’s Fête Champêtre.)</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The Fragment of the Birth of Paris, in the Esterhazy Gallery, Buda-Pesth.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>* Portrait of a Man, in the Esterhazy Gallery.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>* Portrait of a Woman, in the Borghese Gallery, Rome.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>† Nymph and Satyr, in the Pitti.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>† Portrait of a Youth, in Berlin.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>† Head of a Boy, in Hampton Court.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>Three Philosophers, in Vienna.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>* Venus in Dresden.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>† Allegory, in Dresden.&#8196; &#8196; &#8196; { These Morelli considers copies</div>
+      <div class='line'>† Judith, in St. Petersburg. { of Giorgione’s work.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>The pictures I have marked with an asterisk are those which
+Morelli was the first to claim with insistence for Giorgione,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>and with the exception of the Venus not one of these attributions
+has been generally accepted. Those marked with a dagger
+are attributions of older or younger date. About all of them,
+certain doubts, and about most of them doubts of very serious
+nature, must be dispelled, before the attribution can be
+accepted.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The two points most noticeable in Morelli’s list are the
+differences in the style of the pictures included and the absence
+of others. It would be difficult to combine works more
+dissimilar than the Berlin portrait of a youth and the portrait
+of a woman in the Borghese, and even if one grants that an
+artist working at the time when Giorgione flourished was subjected
+to influences so strong and varied that the character
+of his work altered from time to time, it can only be explained
+by a miracle that the same man painted the Castelfranco
+Madonna and the Daphne and Apollo. Even the last dashing
+works of the century-old Titian differ hardly more from his
+calmer earlier canvases than do these two pictures, which
+Morelli would have us believe were painted by a man who died
+at the age of thirty-two or thirty-three. This curious, one may
+not unfairly say erratic, combination of Morelli may perhaps
+be explained by supposing, as is true in other parts of his work,
+that he was so taken up with the similarity of certain details
+that he forgot to study the larger and more telling characteristics
+of the pictures. But what explanation is there
+of his strange silence regarding the Benson<a id='r48'></a><a href='#f48' class='c015'><sup>[48]</sup></a> and Beaumont
+pictures, the Judgment of Solomon at Kingston Lacy, the
+Vienna David, and the Christ bearing the Cross in San
+Rocco?</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>A later and slightly different form of the Morelli list is given
+by Berenson.<a id='r49'></a><a href='#f49' class='c015'><sup>[49]</sup></a> It is as follows:</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Berlin, Portrait of a Man.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Buda-Pesth, Portrait of a Man.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Castelfranco, Duomo, Madonna with Sts. Francis and Liberale.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Dresden, Sleeping Venus.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Florence, Uffizi, Trial of Moses; Knight of Malta; Judgment of Solomon.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Hampton Court, Shepherd with Pipe.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Madrid, Madonna with Sts. Roch and Antony of Padua.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Paris, Fête Champêtre.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Rome, Villa Borghese, Portrait of a Lady.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>St. Petersburg, Judith (?).</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Venice, Academy, Storm calmed by St. Mark. Finished in small part
+by P. Bordone. (In the edition of 1894, Berenson attributed this to
+P. Bordone, saying that perhaps it was begun by Giorgione.)</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Venice, Seminario, Apollo and Daphne; Giovanelli, Gypsy and Soldier;
+S. Rocco, Christ bearing Cross.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Vicenza, Casa Loschi, Christ bearing Cross. (Now in the Gardner
+Collection, Boston.)</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Vienna, Evander showing Æneas the Site of Rome. (Often called the
+Three Philosophers.)</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In an article<a id='r50'></a><a href='#f50' class='c015'><sup>[50]</sup></a> published since the appearance of his book,
+Berenson has added to the above list several pictures which he
+considers to be copies of Giorgiones. They are:</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Bergamo, Orpheus and Eurydice. The copy made by Cariani.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Buda-Pesth, Two men walking. Fragment. (This is what Morelli
+calls the Birth of Paris.)</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>Milan, Portrait of a lady, belonging to Signor Crespi.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>St. Petersburg, Judith.</p>
+
+<p class='c023'>London, Portrait of a man formerly belonging to Mr. Doetsch; now
+owned by Colonel Kemp.</p>
+
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>
+  <h3 class='c004'>II. THE TRUE GIORGIONE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>A superficial study of the lists which have been given suffices
+to show that the various critics have very different
+standards by which to judge Giorgione and his works. I
+much doubt whether entire order can be brought out of the
+chaos that now rules, but a sounder basis for future study
+can be derived from a combination of the best points of the
+work of these very differently endowed critics than any one
+of them by himself offers.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>So far as Crowe and Cavalcaselle go, they are, I believe,
+entirely right. Among the twelve pictures which they unhesitatingly
+ascribe to Giorgione, only three have been questioned
+by any one. These three are, the Judgment of Solomon,
+at Kingston Lacy, the Epiphany, in the National Gallery, and
+the Beaumont Shepherd’s Offering. The only possible
+explanation of the fact that Morelli does not mention the
+picture at Kingston Lacy is that he did not see it.<a id='r51'></a><a href='#f51' class='c015'><sup>[51]</sup></a> It is one
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>of those works that in every touch show the author. Even
+if we did not have Ridolfi’s evidence for the existence of such
+a work, it is difficult to understand how hesitation could arise
+in the mind of any one undisturbed by theories as to the author
+of the picture. The figure of the executioner is, as Ridolfi
+says, unfinished. So, too, is practically the whole picture
+(Plate LXII).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>What strikes one at first sight is the similarity to Bellini’s
+work at the same time that one realises a development of
+dramatic power greater than he ever attained. The fine
+restraint of composition is his, the serious and painstaking
+technique is his, but the dramatic energy displayed in the
+action of the several figures is a step beyond anything which
+Bellini ever accomplished. And the few undoubted works
+show that Giorgione was great enough to compose with the
+same grandeur, and work with a similar perfection to Bellini,
+and yet give more dramatic intensity to his figures. But if
+any one is blind to the spirit that permeates this wonderful
+bit of poetry, let him study the details. The head of the
+youth standing upright on Solomon’s right hand is most
+closely allied to that of the seated figure in the Three Philosophers.
+The old man on the left of Solomon is in his turn
+very similar to the oldest of the Three Philosophers. Compare
+the hand of the second figure from the right with the left
+hand of the last-mentioned Philosopher: it is the same.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The tight drawn hair of the women is the same as that of
+the Castelfranco Madonna and the Gypsy in the Giovanelli
+Palace picture. The strong, broad, full-toed, carefully drawn
+feet are what we see in the Three Philosophers, and the St.
+Francis of the Castelfranco picture. The full-lipped, small,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>quietly closed but expressive mouths of the figures are such as
+distinguish Giorgione’s other unquestioned works and show a
+master’s touch. The draperies massed in grand, simple style,
+broken only by folds that truly show the quality of the stuff or
+its arrangement—that are not merely put in out of pure fancy—are
+like those that characterise the Castelfranco Madonna
+and the Three Philosophers. There is no refuting the judgment
+passed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle. This is a true
+Giorgione and in certain ways the finest of them all.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I have refrained from comparing it with the Dresden Venus
+for the reason that this discovery of Morelli’s has been, though
+I believe on insufficient grounds, disputed, and some critics
+question whether the Venus is not a work of Titian. The
+evidence with which Morelli maintained the Giorgionesque
+origin of the work is very convincing, but there is a quality
+of the work upon which he did not lay sufficient stress. I
+refer to the lack of sensuousness in the figure. It is the lack
+of this mundane quality, the abstractness of the figure, that
+renders it ideal, which allies this work with the finest Greek
+sculpture, with figures of the Periclean epoch. The nude
+female figure is thought of not from a sexual standpoint, but
+from that of pure beauty of form. To represent such feeling
+was unlike Titian even in the most earnestly ideal of his youthful
+days. His work in almost every case has a glow of passion;
+Giorgione’s, on the contrary, suggests loveliness that deserves
+the deepest admiration, but does not suggest actual human
+life and action. The two ideals are the poles asunder.
+Titian’s is that of the man, Giorgione’s that of the woman. As
+Coleridge said, “Man loves the woman, but woman loves the
+love of the man,” and when one looks at Titian’s Venuses or
+his other female figures, one is inevitably more vigorously
+self-conscious and one’s attention is more indissolubly bound
+to the body than when one’s eyes rest on the statuesque
+beauties of the Castelfranco painter’s imaginings.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p174a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXIV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>The method by which these effects are depicted is unmistakable
+and clear. In Titian’s figures of nude women the glance
+of the eye is often distinctly and sharply focussed in the eye
+of the beholder, and the action of the figure is motived by the
+presence of the beholder. The painted image is the corollary
+of the being that looks upon her. It is not so in Giorgione’s
+work. His Venus is self-contained, self-centred and thoughtless
+of the outer world. The eyes (cf. the Giovanelli picture)
+do not strongly draw yours to themselves, and the action does
+not imply a realisation of the presence of any interested gazer.
+For exactly these reasons, plain simple reasons, but of deepest
+import, the Venus of Praxiteles is of inestimably greater
+worth than that later impersonation of female vigour and
+physical delight, the Venus de’ Medici. And in similar manner
+Giorgione proves himself a man and an artist who attained
+to the adequate presentation of an ideal of beauty of
+the female figure far more elevated and uplifting than that
+held by his more famous contemporary Titian. The Venus
+may, as Morelli said, be safely considered as a true Giorgione.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The case is not so clear, though I believe it is not less unquestionable,
+when we consider the Epiphany<a id='r52'></a><a href='#f52' class='c015'><sup>[52]</sup></a> of the National
+Gallery (Plate LXIII). The criticism passed by Crowe and
+Cavalcaselle on this picture and the Shepherd’s Offering in
+the Beaumont Collection is, so far as it goes, sound. They
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>say of these pictures “that the style coincides with that which
+historians attribute to Giorgione; that most of the characteristics
+which predominate recur in canvases registered by
+the oldest authorities as those of Barbarelli; and that the
+landscapes in every case resemble each other and recall the
+country of Castelfranco.” There is much more proof, however,
+that can be adduced to show that only Giorgione could
+have painted these works. But first the attribution of them
+both to Catena<a id='r53'></a><a href='#f53' class='c015'><sup>[53]</sup></a> must be shown to be groundless.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>A word, however, in regard to logical reasoning about pictures,
+the lack of which constitutes a great weakness in Morelli
+and some of his followers, may perhaps be deemed not inappropriate
+here. Circumstantial evidence is at best only partially
+conclusive. Morelli did some brilliant work by its
+means in correcting the names under which many pictures
+had masqueraded. Such work must, it is self-evident, be
+founded on the signed works of the masters or on works whose
+authorship is proved by literary evidence of the strongest
+character. But he and his followers seem to forget that others
+may refuse adherence to the belief in one or more of these
+attributions and yet not be utterly foolish. Many minds are
+convinced by evidence which to other equally capable and
+well-trained intelligences does not carry the force of conviction,
+or may even seem to be based on a misapprehension of
+fundamental facts. Grant, however, that a given attribution
+of an unsigned work seems reasonable, still there are in most
+such cases parts of it that are to a certain extent dissimilar
+to the certified works of the master to whom it is attributed—otherwise
+it would never have been falsely named.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>Were this not true, how had doubt ever arisen in men’s
+minds as to who wrote the Rhesus, or when the Apollo
+Belvedere was made? Suppose now that in studying a picture
+and attributing it to an artist one finds a second or a
+third or a fourth picture that seems to be by the same painter.
+One sees that each has certain points in common with the
+signed works and others common only to the unsigned work
+which was the first of our new attributions. To deduce from
+the similarity which any two of the unsigned works bear to each
+other in their <i>differences</i> from the signed works of the author
+to whom it is desired to attribute them, that they must be by
+this author, is an absolutely illogical and unreasonable method
+of argument. One can ‘prove’ anything in this way, which
+could without difficulty enable one to show that the Two
+Loves of the Borghese Gallery was painted by Perugino.
+All that is needed is a sufficiently large list of works each differing
+slightly from Perugino’s true masterpieces. It is but
+another form of the old game of turning one word into another
+by adding and subtracting syllables. Thus one turns <i>drama</i>
+into <i>odious</i>: drama, melodrama, melodious, odious.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Unfortunately Morelli did not realise the weakness of this
+system. Had he done so, he would never have attributed to
+Catena the Epiphany of the National Gallery, and his followers
+would not consider the same artist as the painter of
+the Benson Holy Family and the Beaumont Shepherd’s
+Offering.<a id='r54'></a><a href='#f54' class='c015'><sup>[54]</sup></a> I do not mean to imply that he would have considered
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>Giorgione as their author, but, it is only by strained
+and extravagant reasoning that they can be claimed for Catena.
+They bear no resemblance in either composition, colour
+or idea to any of the unquestioned works by this second-rate
+pupil of Bellini, the imitator, <i>par excellence</i>, of the work of his
+greater contemporaries.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>So far as a careful analysis enables one to make out from the
+context of the whole passage in which Morelli speaks of these
+works,<a id='r55'></a><a href='#f55' class='c015'><sup>[55]</sup></a> he seems to have convinced himself that Catena was
+the painter of the Epiphany because of the similarities that
+exist between it and the Knight adoring the Infant Christ
+and the St. Jerome in his Study in the same Gallery. The
+first thing to notice is that the likeness which the Epiphany
+bears to the St. Jerome is almost entirely imaginary. The
+chief difference between the two works is that the Epiphany
+is not only painted in a very different manner technically,
+but it is much less laboured. It shows vastly greater facility
+of draughtsmanship; the execution is very much more easy;
+the colour is fuller and purer; the chiaroscuro is more varied,
+and, finally, it is much more imaginatively conceived. It gives
+one, in fact, the impression of being by a master, whereas the St.
+Jerome seems nothing more either in imagination or in technique
+than the work of a careful, serious, arid-minded student.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The St. Jerome in fact may well be by Catena, for these are
+the qualities with which we know he was endowed. The similarity
+between the Epiphany and the Knight adoring the
+Infant Christ is greater, but still not very great.<a id='r56'></a><a href='#f56' class='c015'><sup>[56]</sup></a> But here
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>too we must remember that the attribution of the Knight
+to Catena is based not so much even on good circumstantial
+evidence as on the fairly unanimous belief among those capable
+of judging what certain phases of Catena’s changing style
+probably resembled. But the points wherein the Epiphany
+surpassed the St. Jerome are just those in which it shows
+greater mastery than is exhibited in the Knight. The same
+stiffness and awkwardness of drawing mark the Knight as
+by an artist of much less capacity than him of the Epiphany.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>So too does the clumsy, empty composition. The small-featured
+faces, the lack of appearance of real substance in the
+bodies, the dull and uninteresting chiaroscuro, the laboured
+technique are characteristic of Catena, but not one of them
+shows in the Epiphany. Catena may well have painted
+the beast like a hobby horse which the Knight’s page holds,
+but it was an abler hand than his which drew the horses from
+which the Magi have dismounted. The crinkly, crushed
+draperies in the Knight are similar to Catena’s work, but
+there is nothing like them in the Epiphany, where the glowing
+coloured garments are cast in simpler and grander and
+at the same time more natural lines. Can any one really
+imagine that the same man painted the dull, hard, conventional
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>head of St. Joseph in the Knight and the much more
+thoughtful and original face of the same figure in the Epiphany?
+or how can any one believe that the same artist
+designed heads of such different shape, eyes and noses and
+mouths so unlike in the one and the other work; hands in
+the Knight so like turtles’ feet, and so vigorous and human
+in the Epiphany? It is surely improbable, and Crowe and
+Cavalcaselle were right when they recognised a great difference
+between the two works and saw in the smaller, richer
+one the hand of Giorgione. The reasoner who is calm and
+unpolemically minded must agree with them.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The next picture for us to consider is the Beaumont Shepherd’s
+Offering which Crowe and Cavalcaselle give to Giorgione,
+but which is by Berenson and others considered a
+Catena.<a id='r57'></a><a href='#f57' class='c015'><sup>[57]</sup></a> If the Epiphany were a Catena, then the Shepherd’s
+Offering would be also, for not only the treatment and
+colour as a whole, but the details, more particularly the group
+of the Holy Family, is distinctly alike in both. The same
+reasons that show that it is impossible that Catena ever
+painted the Epiphany apply with even greater force to the
+Shepherd’s Offering. Both pictures are utterly unlike Catena’s
+work in all essential points, all those, that is to say,
+which are the expression of character. Certain Giorgionesque
+qualities show more strongly in the Shepherd’s Offering than
+in the smaller work. I will not analyse the details of form,
+substantiality of masses and richness of colour, for every unprejudiced
+eye will see that they are the same in each of these
+two works as they are in the unquestioned works by Giorgione.
+But there is a quality more difficult to analyse and to express
+in fixed terms, that stamps the Shepherd’s Offering not only
+as a work by Giorgione, but as a very characteristic expression
+of his genius. I refer to the impression given by the quietness
+of the scene, by the slight vagueness of it all, and to the colour
+and chiaroscuro that remind one of an evening landscape
+(Plate LXIV). All these points taken together make the
+scene seem mysterious and dreamlike.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p180a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXV.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>Now, clearly enough, this romantic quality occurs to a greater
+or less extent in all the unquestioned Giorgiones. It is the
+deep religious ardour of Bellini turned to a broader field. It is
+the sharp focussed passion of Titian transmuted into an abiding
+love for all things beautiful. In the Giovanelli Landscape
+(Plate LXV) you see it in the strange combination of soldier
+and nude woman under the lightning-riven skies and the trees
+heavy and white with the storm. In the Three Philosophers
+you see it in the contrast of the three men of different ages
+and the quiet forest where they sit with the city in the distance
+that seems to be asleep (Plate LXVI). In the Virgin
+of Castelfranco you see it in the throne placed in the open
+meadows peopled by visionlike figures, in the deeply impressive
+silence and contrast of the monk and warrior, and in the
+still blue sea lapping the templed shores beyond. You see
+it in the Venus,—not any one woman so much as the presentation
+of everlasting feminine beauty—sleeping under the open
+sky across which roll great summer clouds rising from the
+distant sea. It is present almost invariably in his work and
+forms the chief richness of the Beaumont picture, in which the
+strangely silent group under the trees, the empty shepherd’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>hut beyond and the deep distance of rolling, castelled hills
+and meadows, golden in the light of the low sun, is like a vision
+that one sees in those rare moments when one’s eyes pierce
+the husk of this world and we seem for one treasured instant
+to have passed the borders and be wandering in El Dorado.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In none of Catena’s authentic works does he attain to such
+a height of imaginative presentation of daily phenomena.
+He could appreciate it, as is shown by his attempt in the
+Knight to paint in the manner of Giorgione, but that picture
+alone would be sufficient to show his incapacity to attain
+the goal at which he aimed. Nor is this feeling which we
+derive from Giorgione’s works imaginary and based on preconceived
+ideas. It is distinctly due to certain indubitable
+facts. No one questions the mystery and inexpressible beauty
+of the light of early dawn or evening, and it is this rather
+than the full, hard, mid-day glare that is the light of all Giorgione’s
+pictures. Nor is there doubt of the impressiveness of
+gloom, be it of forest or of storm, and such mystery as this was
+dear to the hill-born artist. Nor, further, can one hesitate to
+admit the visionary, mirage-like appearance of vigorous action
+that takes place in silence and of which the anatomical details
+are suppressed. Such is the action of Giorgione’s figures.
+They are plainly deeply interested in the scene of which they
+form part, but their faces (even in the Judgment of Solomon
+at Kingston Lacy) show their interest rather by the eyes than
+by the lips. They look, but do not speak. Like Greek Gods
+they act, but with terrible great silence.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>And so, too, though the bodies of his figures are full of life and
+action, yet they rarely show the tense and emphasised muscles
+appropriate to such action, but appear rather, having acted,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>to be now at rest. A similar peculiarity is to be observed in
+the draperies which, just as I have tried to show in regard to
+the figure of the Venus, are of the same nature as the best
+Greek work. They are completely motived, that is, by the
+bodies beneath them. They are a positive component part
+of the figure, not merely an accidental addition, and they
+rest and move with it. Thus, as the bodies seem to be resting
+after motion, so the draperies seem to be also. They show
+none of the little, trifling, momentary folds that express
+actual motion, but merely those larger, more essential lines
+and masses that are truly expressive of the vitality and movement
+of the figures, whose beauty they enhance, so far as
+such life and activity can be expressed by woven stuffs.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Let us turn now to Catena, his Sta. Caterina, or his Virgin
+Enthroned, in Venice, and we see draperies that are in large
+measure as merely studio studies of cloth as any to which
+Albert Dürer ever attached hands and feet and a head and
+called it a human being. The folds do not carry out the action
+of the figure, but crinkle and ripple and break in meaningless
+profusion from shoulder to ankle. Giorgione was a richly
+imaginative, deeply thoughtful genius, and such a personality
+as this is indelibly stamped in the Epiphany, the Shepherd’s
+Offering, and the Benson Holy Family. Catena was
+a fashionable plagiarist and moderately successful imitator
+of the manner of his master Bellini and of his great contemporaries;
+such a character as his is completely foreign to the
+spirit of these three pictures.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Holy Family,<a id='r58'></a><a href='#f58' class='c015'><sup>[58]</sup></a> one of the many treasures of Mr.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>Benson’s collection, is also given by Berenson, and by others,
+to Catena. The Virgin and Joseph are, as one sees at first
+sight, the same figures as in the two preceding works. I will
+not unfold the argument again. The picture is to be attributed
+to Giorgione for the same reasons that show the two
+other pictures to be his. One proof may be added to those
+adduced before, and this is the pebbly surface of the ground.
+The same treatment is to be seen in the Judgment of Solomon,
+and the Trial of Moses, in the Uffizi, in the Three
+Philosophers, in the Giovanelli Landscape; and in this
+last picture the painting of the brick work below the column
+is the same as that of the building beside which the Holy
+Family are seated in Mr. Benson’s picture. Catena could
+as easily have painted Bellini’s Loredano as this head of St.
+Joseph, as fine a head in its grandeur of mould and simple
+earnestness of expression as was ever given to this too often
+maligned Saint. It is a Giorgione, and a fine one.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The picture of Christ carrying the Cross in the Church
+of San Rocco in Venice is by Morelli<a id='r59'></a><a href='#f59' class='c015'><sup>[59]</sup></a> said to be “gewiss ein
+ganz frühes Werk” of Titian. Considering that he does not
+give a single proof of this assertion, we may be forgiven if
+we fail to see the <i>Gewissheit</i> of the attribution. It is true
+that Vasari was not sure whether Giorgione or Titian was the
+author, but tradition, as can be traced by guide books, certainly
+leads us to consider the former as the author. The condition
+of the picture is such that it gives one no help in solving the
+problem, but so far as the drawing of details goes we meet
+no contradiction of the traditional authorship. The shape of
+the head of the Christ and the drawing of the eyes and brow
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>are met with in the certain works. In believing this ruined
+picture to be by our master, I am following the opinion held
+by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, and in more recent days by
+Berenson.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The difficulties that are met in trying to discover a decisive
+proof of the origin of the Knight of Malta are similar to
+those which confuse the argument about the ‘Christ’ of
+San Rocco. The picture has been so maltreated that there is
+little left to study but the shadow of the original. A magnificent
+original it must have been, one of those rare works,
+commoner in Venice than elsewhere, that truly make the
+corporal substance conform to the nature of the hidden soul,
+so that one thinks not so much of the person shown to us as of
+his manner of thought and life. There is much about the
+portrait that makes its attribution to any one but Giorgione
+next to impossible, and nothing, I believe, that throws any
+doubt in the way of our considering him the author. He was
+capable of such a portrait, and in its earlier days it was unquestionably
+worthy of him. This is, of course, the usual
+opinion, though Crowe and Cavalcaselle felt that the repainting
+had so altered the work as to destroy its character.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Head of Christ bearing the Cross, formerly in Vicenza,
+and now, fortunately for our country, in Boston, is
+another of the works the authorship of which cannot be absolutely
+proved, but of which the character is so marked that
+there is little or no diversity of opinion about it.<a id='r60'></a><a href='#f60' class='c015'><sup>[60]</sup></a> It is one
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>of the pictures that Crowe and Cavalcaselle thought worthy
+of Giorgione, and which since their day Morelli and others
+have not hesitated to regard as his. Still strongly tinged with
+the influence of Bellini, it contains the promise of a freer,
+broader treatment of religious subjects than even Bellini had
+attained, and shows us unquestionably the young Giorgione.
+The hand and eye of Bellini guide him as he works, but his
+own genius cannot be utterly suppressed, and he adds to his
+master’s style something that marks the picture, when it
+leaves his easel, as the true expression of a great genius and not
+as that of a merely facile and unoriginal pupil (Plate LXVII).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Closely connected with the Madonna of Castelfranco is
+the study for the figure of San Liberale in the National
+Gallery. It is true that such studies by the fifteenth-century
+Italian masters are extremely uncommon, but the differences
+between this study and the large picture are such as we
+can hardly imagine being introduced by a copyist, and the
+painting, considered solely from the technical point of view,
+is so masterly that we are, I believe, justified in considering
+the figure as the product of Giorgione’s brush.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of the six pictures (Pitti, Concert, and Nymph with
+Satyr; Louvre, Fête Champêtre, and Madonna and
+Saints; Hampton Court, Shepherd; Madrid, Madonna
+with Sta. Brigida) which, though traditionally ascribed to
+Giorgione, Crowe and Cavalcaselle refused to consider as
+his, the Madonna and Sta. Brigida and the Madonna and
+Saints in the Louvre are now less often thought of in connection
+with his name.<a id='r61'></a><a href='#f61' class='c015'><sup>[61]</sup></a></p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p186a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXVI.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>Of the Madonna and Saints in the Louvre it is interesting
+to note that even a century ago there were those who judged
+the work at its true value. It is of this work, I believe, that
+J. B. P. Lebrun<a id='r62'></a><a href='#f62' class='c015'><sup>[62]</sup></a> says: (p. 71) “<span lang="fr">Attribué au Giorgion. Un
+Concert de figures vues à mi-crops et de grandeur naturelle,
+très-mauvais ouvrage dans le genre de cette école, d’environ
+4 pieds et demi de hauteur, sur 6 de largeur, sur toile. Je
+tairai ce qu’en dit Lalande. Vient de Milan, bibliothèque
+Ambrosienne.</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Concerning the four other pictures there is considerable
+diversity of opinion. The Head of a Boy at Hampton Court
+is thought by Morelli to be an original Giorgione, but as the
+light was bad when he saw the work, he is not sure. Berenson,
+however, does not doubt the genuineness of the picture. Considering
+the fact that the head is a copy of the Vienna David,
+we may very seriously question whether it is by Giorgione.
+One can scarcely suppose that he would have repeated his
+pictures and made the head of his David answer for a Shepherd.
+Morelli was right in recognising the Giorgionesque
+spirit of the work, but it is only a copy of the head of the
+original David, with certain details altered.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Nymph and Satyr<a id='r63'></a><a href='#f63' class='c015'><sup>[63]</sup></a> in the Pitti, which used to be
+called a Giorgione and which Crowe and Cavalcaselle thought
+to be by some imitator of him and of Titian, bears now, I
+believe, the name of Dosso Dossi. Morelli considered it a
+youthful work of Giorgione, though it certainly shows few signs
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>of youth, and the Giorgionesque details which he enumerates
+are exactly those which an imitator would easily acquire.
+The idea and the energetic freedom of composition are more
+like the work of men who came after Giorgione, and the colouring
+is unlike his. We have no reason to believe that he
+ever painted subjects embodying just such trivially sensual
+and commonplace ideas, and as there is no marked and characteristic
+likeness in the figures to any of his known works,
+it is safer to consider it the product of a would-be imitator,
+such as we know Dosso Dossi to have been.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>To decide the question of the Concert in the Pitti is by
+no means easy. Crowe and Cavalcaselle felt sure it could not
+be by Giorgione, or else that “he did not execute what we are
+fond of attributing to him,” for it seemed to them more advanced
+and to surpass his true works. Morelli, too, did not
+regard Giorgione as the author, but the youthful Titian,<a id='r64'></a><a href='#f64' class='c015'><sup>[64]</sup></a> and
+to this Berenson agrees. The interrelation of the complex
+sensations expressed in the deeply moved but quiet faces is
+certainly more like the work of the painter of the Two Loves
+than that of him of the Three Philosophers. The likeness,
+too, of the middle figure in the Concert to the Man with the
+Glove in the Louvre—a likeness found not only in the expression
+of the two heads, but also in the wonderfully wrought
+modelling of them—is most noticeable. How the same artist
+can have accomplished so dull and stupid a face as the one to
+the left is a question only to be answered by the vandals who
+have repainted and thereby ruined this very splendid work.
+It certainly does remind one of Giorgione, but so does the
+Two Loves. Titian we know well was, in his early days,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>much influenced by his fellow-worker, but we know also that
+he became the more accomplished artist of the two and attained
+a power of technique and of representation of facial
+expression beyond that of his too early dead contemporary.
+As just such an artist is shown us in the Concert, one can but
+agree with Morelli in regarding it as the work of Titian—as
+one of his finest, for he rarely reached such mastery of subtle
+expression as shown in the central figure.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I come now to the discussion of a picture so well known
+that I feel scarcely justified in doing more than simply express
+my opinion of it, but the picture is so important that I must
+be excused for arguing about it in close detail. It is the
+Fête Champêtre in the Louvre; a picture which almost
+every one unhesitatingly attributes to Giorgione, but which I
+cannot believe to be by him and think can have been painted
+only some years after his death. As in regard to other true or
+false Giorgiones, the opinion held by Crowe and Cavalcaselle
+is worthy of more attention than later writers have seen fit
+to give it. What the former say about the picture is this:</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>“We cannot say that Giorgione would not have painted such
+a scene; but, as far as we know, he would have treated it with
+more nobleness of sentiment, without defects of form or neglect
+of nature’s finenesses, without the pasty surface and
+sombre glow of tone which here is all pervading: he would
+have given more brightness and variety to his landscape.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>They were surely not far wrong when they suggested some
+imitator of Sebastiano del Piombo as the painter. There is
+certainly a Giorgionesque quality in the scene, but that only
+means that the painter puts before our eyes the varied and
+mingled charms of green fields enlivened with the faint murmur
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>of shepherds tending their distant flocks, of woods and
+rivers, and of strong men and lovely women making music
+beside a fountain overhung by trees. It used to be the fashion<a id='r65'></a><a href='#f65' class='c015'><sup>[65]</sup></a>
+to call every portrait of a dark-eyed man with long abundant
+locks by Giorgione’s name, and those who believed in
+such things also thought that he was the only painter of Fêtes
+Champêtres.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>We may freely concede that Giorgione did do much to introduce
+and skilfully display a class of subjects that had been
+little cared for until this day. But he was not the only artist
+to feel the charm of such scenes. Sedate Bellini himself
+showed in such a picture as the Bacchanal in Alnwick Castle
+that he too felt them, and rapidly they became more and more
+common. But in the earlier years of this development such
+scenes were generally given on a small scale or else were intended
+to illustrate, even though in many cases the clue is
+lost to us, some more distinct and concisely expressable idea
+than mere Arcadian life among the trees. It is not alone the
+emptiness of thought that forces us to decide upon some later
+author than Giorgione for this work. Forms of details, manner
+of design and method of painting, all are different from
+his certain works.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The first thing that strikes the attention is that the soft,
+dull drawing of the figures, and the clumsy, baggy modelling
+of the women, is unlike anything found in any of the undoubted
+Giorgiones.<a id='r66'></a><a href='#f66' class='c015'><sup>[66]</sup></a> Compare the delicate shape and clear
+drawing of the figures in the Uffizi panels, or the Venus
+or the Gypsy, with these heavy, ill-proportioned, clumsily
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>posed figures, and then say if you think Giorgione could have
+sunk so low. Or, if you will seek proof in fingers and toes,
+hands and feet, where in Giorgione’s work are such a shapeless
+leathery ear, so thick-lipped a mouth, so short-toed and thick
+a foot, or such spidery hands to be found? Nowhere. Look
+at the landscape. The trees are much more massy and less
+flat and feathery, their surface is more broken by flickering
+spots of light, they show, in fact, a more advanced stage in
+the rendering of the appearance of Nature, than is shown in
+Giorgione’s work.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is instructive to notice, too, the way that the grass is
+painted in the foreground, the thick mat of it, and the long
+bright blades and tufts. Giorgione never reached such realism
+as that, as you can see by the primitive way in which
+he seeks to render the effect in the picture of the Gypsy.
+Consider further the treatment of the sunlight as it floats
+over the hillsides and glows among the trees. In the Castelfranco
+Madonna, in the Three Philosophers, in the Gypsy,
+in the Beaumont Shepherd’s Offering, large, smooth, unbroken
+surfaces of light and shade, seeming almost more
+like some woven stuff than rough earth, are contrasted, but
+here all is broken, enriched perhaps, but less simple and less
+telling.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>In and out by the river and over the hill, Nature’s wrinkles
+are embossed by the soft light, and nowhere is there restful
+certainty of sun or shadow. In among the trees behind the
+shepherd, the hot, misty light that one sees only in the forest
+is radiant with summer colour and seems to murmur with the
+voice of the woods. Such effects were unknown to Giorgione,
+but they were not unknown to Titian, for he was the first great
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>landscapist, and in the Vierge au Lapin and the other Virgin
+seated under the trees, which used to hang opposite in
+the Long Gallery of the Louvre, we see exactly these technical
+peculiarities and these effects of nature done with the sure
+stroke of the master. Not only has the author of the Fête
+Champêtre followed Titian in these ways, but his thick pasty
+colour is taken from him. Not a stroke of this picture displays
+original talent, there is not one that resembles Giorgione,
+not one that does not betray the skilful imitator of ideas and
+manner of other well-known men, chiefly of Titian.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>But to make assurance doubly sure, something remains to be
+pointed out that even if all the rest could be accommodated
+to what we know of Giorgione, would render it incredible that
+he should be the author. Morelli and others have noted the
+curious similarity between the two musicians and certain
+figures in one of Titian’s frescoes in Padua. One cannot say
+that Titian would not have taken hints from Giorgione, but
+he was scarcely the man to need any one’s suggestions, especially
+if it was in the shape of such commonplace figures as
+these. There are those, however, who think he did. But
+now let me add that the two women bear the most striking
+and unquestionable likeness to the two women in Tintoretto’s
+(?) Rescue in Dresden, though they have lost the purity of
+Tintoretto’s figures. Surely no one will maintain that this
+at best only fanciful and pretty, but in no way striking, Fête
+Champêtre was the source of inspiration to the two greatest
+Venetian painters in their days of prime and finished power?
+It is impossible. The idea must be given up, and though there
+is no denying the charm of the musicians under the trees, let
+us cast the scales from our eyes and recognise its complete
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>dissimilarity to the work of the Master of Castelfranco, and
+that it is merely a perfectly charming <i>pasticcio</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I have now discussed the pictures spoken of by Crowe and
+Cavalcaselle, and there are left for us to consider those to
+which Morelli first drew marked attention. Such are the
+Madonna with Sts. Antony and Roch in Madrid, Daphne and
+Apollo in Venice, Three Ages of Man in the Uffizi, Birth of
+Paris and Portrait of a Man in Buda-Pesth, Portrait of a
+Woman in the Borghese Gallery, Portrait of a Youth in Berlin,
+Allegory in Dresden, and Judith in St. Petersburg. I
+have already spoken of the Venus, Nymph and Satyr, and
+the Shepherd at Hampton Court.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Madonna in Madrid has generally been called by the
+name of Pordenone, while Crowe and Cavalcaselle thought it
+by Francesco Vecelli. It is certainly not a Giorgione, but a
+mere <i>pasticcio</i> like the Fête Champêtre. We cannot be
+blamed for asking some more decisive evidence of its Giorgionesque
+origin than Morelli gives before we agree with him.
+He satisfies himself with saying<a id='r67'></a><a href='#f67' class='c015'><sup>[67]</sup></a> “Doch ich muss gestehen,
+dass es für mich keine geringe Freude war, bei meinem Besuche
+von Madrid dieses Wunderwerk venetianischer Malerkunst
+sogleich als Schöpfung unsers Giorgione erkannt zu
+haben.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>This, on the surface, is too rapid and absolute a statement
+to be admitted without question, and as there are excellent
+reasons why Giorgione could not have painted the work, we
+may confidently strike it from the list. The composition in
+the main is borrowed from the picture at Castelfranco. Giorgione
+was hardly the man to repeat his own works. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>heavy, thick, coarse painting is absolutely different from Giorgione’s
+work. The clumsy draperies show none of his fine
+feeling. The thick-set figures of the Saints do not exhibit his
+elegance and refinement of form. The infant, more like a
+Hercules than a Christ, is quite unlike his poetic and dreamy-looking
+children. The manner in which the foot of St. Roch
+is raised is awkward and unmeaning, while the fat hands, thick
+ears and coarse features bear no resemblance to Giorgione’s
+work. The work is not only crude, it is unintelligent. The
+wall behind the Virgin cannot be explained, the chiaroscuro
+is harsh, the attitude of St. Anthony, turning as he does from
+the main group, is senseless, and the flowers are scattered
+about in a childish way. It is based on Giorgione’s work, but
+must have been painted by an inferior artist many years after
+his death.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Daphne and Apollo in Venice has been injured by repainting
+and by having lost the left-hand end, but one can
+easily see that it will take much more than a mere assertion
+by Morelli<a id='r68'></a><a href='#f68' class='c015'><sup>[68]</sup></a> to convince anyone that Giorgione painted it.
+Crowe and Cavalcaselle think the painter was probably Andrea
+Schiavoni. If it was not Schiavoni, it was someone of an almost
+precisely similar nature and talent. The generally loose drawing
+and painting remind one of him. The bad drawing and perspective,
+the proportions and shapes of the figures (note the
+chunky Apollo drawing his bow and the head of the woman in
+the middle distance), the clawlike hands and clumsy feet, and
+the stupid confusion of scale in which the figures are drawn,
+all show without any possibility of question, that neither Giorgione
+nor any other artist of the first rank painted the picture.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p194a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXVII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>There are in Padua two other cassone pictures representing
+the fables of Myrrha and of Erysichthon as told by Ovid in the
+“Metamorphoses” (VIII fab. 7 and X fab. 9). They are Giorgionesque
+in feeling, but are plainly derived from the woodcuts
+in the 1497 Venice edition of Ovid (Cf. Justi, <i>Giorgione</i>
+p. 191 f). It is possible that these are two of the pictures referred
+to by Ridolfi (see above, No. 19).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of the Three Ages it is perhaps sufficient to say that
+Morelli’s attribution has not found general acceptance.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Allegory in Dresden in times gone by has been and
+by some still is considered, as Morelli thought, a copy of a
+work by Giorgione. There is, I believe, no real evidence in
+favour of this theory, which seems to me to depend solely on
+personal feeling.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Judith in St. Petersburg, where it goes by the name of
+Moretto, presents a more difficult problem. Morelli, though
+he seems to have had no doubt that Giorgione was the painter,
+was not sure whether the picture was a copy or not. That it
+is a copy is Berenson’s opinion.<a id='r69'></a><a href='#f69' class='c015'><sup>[69]</sup></a> The lack of modelling and
+the bad drawing of parts are the reasons why Berenson and
+others think it a copy, and Berenson finds a trace of copyist’s
+work in the fact that the head is better done than the rest of
+the figure. Personally, I do not recognise this superiority of
+the head, and considering the numerous faults which he points
+out, I do not understand his last sentence: “En somme, la
+<i>Judith</i> de l’Ermitage me parait une bonne copie, mais après
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>tout, ce n’est qu’une copie.” If one believes these numerous
+faults to be due to the copyist, I should say that they proved it
+to be a pretty poor copy. Study of the work itself will, however,
+convince anyone that it is not a copy, but the original
+picture, and the artist can be no other than Giorgione. The
+panel on which it was painted was originally broader on the
+right side.<a id='r70'></a><a href='#f70' class='c015'><sup>[70]</sup></a> The uncertain drawing is what one would expect
+to find in an early work. The drapery is not so simple as
+usual in its folds, and at first sight the way it is drawn aside,
+leaving one leg bare, seems affected. But when one thinks
+of the bleeding head on the ground, this action is seen to be
+natural and the contrast of nude and draped parts is of the
+same unexpected and original character as one sees in the
+woman of the Giovanelli picture.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The fragment in Buda-Pesth which Morelli thought was part
+of the picture representing the Birth of Paris is, as Berenson
+points out in the article already referred to, only a copy, and a
+poor one at that. But even poor copies of lost Giorgiones
+are works to be carefully cherished.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Morelli also thought he knew of three portraits by Giorgione.
+Of these three (the Woman in the Borghese, the
+Man in the Buda-Pesth Gallery, and the Youth in Berlin),
+the first two may be seriously questioned. To my eye the
+Borghese portrait is by no means so strikingly Giorgionesque
+as Morelli considered it. While it is true that a brow here
+and a mouth there can be found scattered among the figures
+in the true Giorgiones that resemble the features of this woman,
+the type of face shows little likeness to Giorgione’s work.
+Nor does the muddy colour indicate the palette of an artist
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>of more than mediocre ability. Who will look at Giorgione’s
+masterpieces and then say he thinks the same artist produced
+two such shapeless hands holding such a formless swab of
+cloth? Have we any reason to think Giorgione had so poor
+an understanding of perspective as to be unable to draw correctly
+the line of the parting of the hair? Such sloping
+shoulders were never natural and the fashion of drawing them
+so is not characteristic of Giorgione’s work. Could not
+Giorgione paint better drapery, or would he ever have been
+satisfied with such a shoelace-like ribbon round the waist?
+Finally, were such gauze caps known in Giorgione’s day? It is
+the purest fancy that discovers a shadow of greatness in this
+dull work. Drawing, colour, design, all proclaim it the product
+of a commonplace artist. The work is unlike Giorgione’s
+in every particular except the shape of the brow.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Morelli’s judgment about the portrait in Buda-Pesth is a
+perfectly sound one. It occurs only in the English translation
+and not in the original German.<a id='r71'></a><a href='#f71' class='c015'><sup>[71]</sup></a> “The picture,” he says,
+“has suffered much, and the master is not to be recognised
+in the technical qualities of the painting, but the whole feeling&#160;...
+and the conception seem to point to Giorgione. The impression
+which it made upon me ten years ago was that of a
+thoroughly Giorgionesque work, but one executed by a later
+hand rather than by the master himself. Competent critics who
+have examined the picture in the meantime insist, however, that
+it is a true original by Giorgione. I must leave the final decision
+of the point to others.” Unfortunately it is next to impossible
+to arrive at final decisions in such matters. For one, I
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>believe that Morelli’s idea, that the work was executed by a
+follower of Giorgione, is borne out by its main characteristics,
+particularly by the self-conscious pose of the head, and
+by the gesture of the hand—both much like what is found
+in portraits by the men of the generation after Giorgione.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Then, too, the cold ashen colour is very unlike Giorgione’s
+palette, but I would not lay great weight on this fact as the
+picture has been much repainted. The picture is of further
+interest because it shows the fallacy of one of Morelli’s most
+firm statements. In the Introduction<a id='r72'></a><a href='#f72' class='c015'><sup>[72]</sup></a> to his chapters on the
+Borghese Gallery he says: “Ich erlaube mir bei dieser Gelegenheit
+sogar zu bemerken, dass die den <i>grossen Meistern</i>
+eigenthümliche <i>Grundform</i> der Hand und des Ohres nicht nur
+auf ihren Bildern, sondern selbst auf den von ihnen nach dem
+Leben gemalten Porträts sich vorfindet.” With these words
+in one’s mind one looks at the Buda-Pesth portrait and finds
+neither hand, ear, eye, nose or mouth exhibiting the <i>Grundform</i>
+shown in the unquestioned pictures. Morelli was carried
+away by his theories in this point, for while every one will
+readily admit that many cases, especially among the works of
+the primitive and early masters, can be found to fit his rule,
+yet the numberless exceptions to this rule, particularly among
+the fully developed masters, make it quite plain that, at best,
+its application requires to be strictly limited.<a id='r73'></a><a href='#f73' class='c015'><sup>[73]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The Portrait of a Youth at Berlin is the last of the Morellian
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>Giorgiones to be studied. As was too often the case,
+Morelli speaks off-hand of this work as “ein glänzendes Porträt
+des Giorgione,” as though it was so manifestly by him
+that he was absolved from the labour of adducing proof; but
+the matter is not so simple. It is surely enough Giorgionesque,
+but do the details bear out the general impression so strongly
+as to make the attribution beyond all reasonable doubt?
+Not one of the master’s certain works shows a head like this.
+It is sharper and harder than anything of his except the Uffizi
+panels, but between these, sharp and hard as they seem to
+have been, and the Berlin portrait, there is an important and
+essential difference. The figures on the panels are not only
+hard, they are stiff; that is, they show one of the chief
+characteristics of youthful work.<a id='r74'></a><a href='#f74' class='c015'><sup>[74]</sup></a> If now the portrait be by
+Giorgione, it is self-evidently an early work. That is, there
+are among his undoubted works some that show vastly greater
+ease than this. But this portrait does not show any stiffness.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The attitude is easy, and the painting, particularly of the
+drapery, is distinctly free, one might even say sketchy. The
+work shows, perhaps, not so much the characteristics of a
+young artist of great power as those of one who has attained
+some facility but not the complete and all-round ease of the
+greatest masters. Then what do the letters V. V. mean,
+painted on the shelf behind which the figure stands? Is it
+not possible they are the initial letters of the artist’s name?
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>Can they stand for an as yet unknown imitator, another <i>Vincentius
+Venezianus</i>? As Morelli said of the Portrait in Buda-Pesth,
+“I must leave the final decision of the point to others”—others
+better qualified than myself. Whoever the artist,
+the picture is a splendid one, and may well be regarded as
+showing the Giorgione point of view in portraiture, which,
+however, is a very different matter from being a work by him.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>I have already had occasion to refer to an article by
+Berenson in the <i>Gazette des Beaux-Arts</i> in which he speaks of
+pictures he considers as copies of lost Giorgiones. These are:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c019'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>The David in Vienna.</div>
+      <div class='line'>The Judith in St. Petersburg.</div>
+      <div class='line'>The Birth of Paris in Buda-Pesth.</div>
+      <div class='line'>Orpheus and Eurydice, a cassone at Bergamo.</div>
+      <div class='line'>Portrait of a Man, formerly in the Doetsch collection.</div>
+      <div class='line'>Portrait of a Lady, belonging to Signor Crespi at Milan.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of the first three I have already spoken. To maintain his
+thesis about the Orpheus and Eurydice, Berenson mentions
+only vague sentiments such as “Qui donc, autre que lui, a su
+traduire, comme nous le voyons ici, un mythe grec dans
+l’esprit de la Renaissance?” We might reply that Bellini,
+Titian, Tintoret, to mention merely Venetians, all showed a
+rather marked ability to do this very thing, so it was not a
+personal peculiarity of Giorgione. “Qui donc, autre que lui,
+avait le don de fondre le paysage et les figures dans une aussi
+charmante harmonie?” Again the ability to do this was
+possessed by many artists, and so vague a phrase as <i>aussi
+charmante</i> proves nothing whatever. Continuing, he finds
+many details which betray very certainly the work of Cariani
+(an undoubted imitator of Giorgione), and decides that the
+work is a copy by Cariani of a lost Giorgione. But when
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>much is admittedly unlike Giorgione and everything suits
+Cariani, why not consider Cariani the artist? Apparently
+because “si nous étions nous-même des artistes très doués,
+nous pourrions remplacer chaque détail <i>carianesque</i> par un
+détail <i>giorgionesque</i>, emprunté aux œuvres du maître les plus
+voisines.” This has no force. We might as well “remplacer
+chaque détail <i>carianesque</i> par un détail <i>michelangelesque</i>,”
+and what would be shown thereby? Nothing.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The reasons given for believing the Portrait from the Doetsch
+collection<a id='r75'></a><a href='#f75' class='c015'><sup>[75]</sup></a> to be a copy of a Giorgione are quite as vague and
+undefinable as those for the Orpheus and Eurydice. The
+consideration of details is no more convincing than the sentiments
+and fanciful writing that precede. “Si l’auteur de
+l’original en question n’était pas Giorgione, ce devrait être
+quelque imitateur servile du maître, comme Licinio ou Beccaruzzi.
+Mais ces peintres de second ordre ne pouvaient
+qu’imiter et non créer, et le portrait de la collection Doetsch
+est bien une création,” and yet he has just said that this portrait
+“est le même type que celui du jeune homme de Buda-Pesth,”—the
+picture mentioned by Morelli. Berenson’s
+definition of ‘création’ must differ from that ordinarily employed;
+and Licinio at his best was not so uncreative as Berenson
+would have us believe. He gives one, however, further
+surprises in asserting that this portrait agrees in all details
+with the one in Berlin! Not only the same head and brow,
+but “le même sentiment dans la bouche!”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Even were this all so, and I cannot see that it is in the least,
+what would be proved? To compare one doubtful work to
+another of a similar nature does not, as I have said above,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>prove the authorship of either. Furthermore, though one
+can find strong likenesses to the Berlin head in the true
+works by Giorgione, in these same works one cannot find any
+likeness whatever to the Doetsch portrait. To compare
+this overemphasised portrait, this person who seems half
+brigand and half Shylock, to the sad, poetical-looking man
+at Buda-Pesth, or to the clean, vigorous, manly youth in
+Berlin, is going pretty far, and the limit is plainly over-stepped
+in the endeavour to attach to the picture a value it
+does not possess by giving to it the name of one of the
+greatest artists.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>For the painter of the Crespi Portrait of a Lady we shall
+do better to look in the direction of Titian than Giorgione.
+The owner, Signor Crespi, believes, according to Berenson,
+that Titian was the author, and certainly the likeness which
+the figure bears to other women by Titian, and the initials
+T. V. make it difficult to admit any other origin. Neither
+ecstasies nor comparisons serve to show any likeness to Giorgione’s
+work.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of all the portraits attributed to Giorgione the finest by far
+is the one owned by the Hon. Edward Wood of Temple Newsam.
+Attention was first drawn to this by Cook and his attribution
+has been accepted by every one. It is a masterpiece
+of the greatest beauty (Plate LXVIII).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>We have now reviewed the most important criticisms that
+have been passed on Giorgione’s work; and though it is only too
+evident that as yet there is no really sound common standard
+by which to govern our judgments, we can come very near to
+forming one if we accept the more sober part of the work of
+these criticisms and disregard their more extravagant and
+hypothetical attributions.<a id='r76'></a><a href='#f76' class='c015'><sup>[76]</sup></a> The following list, I venture to
+think, embraces works differing much less among themselves in
+regard to style than the lists of the critics that I have discussed.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_p202a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXVIII.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+  <dl class='dl_1'>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd><span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>1. Vienna—David (copy).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>2. Venice—Fondaco dei Tedeschi (fragment still visible, but compare Zanetti’s engraving).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>3. Venice—Chiesa di San Rocco, Christ carrying the Cross (much damaged).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>4. Venice, Giovanelli Palace, Soldier and Woman, known as The Tempest.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>5. Castelfranco, Madonna Enthroned.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>6. Dresden, Venus.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>7. Kingston Lacy, Judgment of Solomon (unfinished).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>8. Vienna, Three Philosophers.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>9. Buda-Pesth, Birth of Paris (fragment of a copy).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>10. Florence, Uffizi, Judgment of Solomon.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>11. Florence, Uffizi, Fire-test of Moses.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>12. Florence, Uffizi, Knight of Malta.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>13. Boston, Mass., Mrs. Gardner’s Collection (formerly Vicenza), Head of Christ.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>14. London, National Gallery, Study for the San Liberale of the Castelfranco picture.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>15. London, National Gallery, Epiphany.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>16. London, Mr. Benson, Holy Family.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>17. London, Lord Allandale, Shepherd’s Offering.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>18. Temple Newsam, Hon. Mr. Wood. Portrait of a Man.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>19. St. Petersburg, Judith.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>20. Berlin, Portrait of a Youth (?).
+    </dd>
+    </dl>
+
+<p class='c007'>Excluding the last one as being open to doubt, nineteen
+pictures, two probably copies, remain as our heritage
+of this most noble painter’s work. With these nineteen in
+our mind, it becomes more evident than ever why such
+works as the Louvre Concert, the Borghese Lady, or the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>Doetsch Man are not to be thought of in connection with
+Giorgione’s name.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There yet remains something more to be said of Giorgione.
+I think that there are still some pictures to be added to this
+list. The first to which I desire to call attention is the so-called
+Gypsy Madonna in Vienna. This picture is spoken
+of by every one as a Titian, but the longer I study it the more
+strong becomes my conviction that Giorgione was the artist;
+that it is one of his early works; that it is one of the “many
+pictures of the Virgin” of which Vasari speaks. The Giorgione
+spirit seems to me to underlie the whole feeling just as
+the Giorgione technique underlies the completed performance,
+that is, wherever the repainting allows it to be seen (Plate
+LXIX).</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Evidently, from the lack of decision of the drawing, the coarse
+modelling of the drapery, and the heavy, undetailed landscape
+the picture is an early work of the master, be he Titian
+or Giorgione. To my mind the likeness between this and
+unquestioned early Titians is a superficial one. This picture
+shows none of the ease that is a characteristic of even his
+early works, nor does it exhibit any of the dramatic quality,
+expressed either by the actions or in the faces of the figures,
+that is another most noticeable feature of his work. If, on
+the other hand, one seeks for similarities to Giorgione’s work,
+they are most readily found. Details and style coincide
+closely with his pictures. The shape of the Virgin’s head and
+the manner in which the hair is drawn over the brow are
+nearly identical with what one sees in the Uffizi panels or
+the Castelfranco picture. The sharply marked eyelids, the
+richly modelled mouth and long nose, are strongly resemblant
+to the same features in the Castelfranco Madonna, the Giovanelli
+Gypsy, the Uffizi panels, and the Knight of Malta.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_p204a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p><span class='sc'>Plate LXIX.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>Notice, too, the large hand, the feet of the child with the
+strongly developed toes which are just what one finds in Giorgione’s
+works. So, also, the landscape with its plumelike trees,
+and the slim figure seated on the grass is such as one finds in
+many of his works, but not so often in those of Titian. Finally,
+and of more importance than separate details, is the fact
+that the peaceful spirit of the group, the undramatic, unTitianesque
+quality, is exactly what is most characteristic
+of Giorgione. Titian, when he painted the Christ Child,
+even in his earliest days, painted a figure more representing
+the infant Hercules than the Salvator Mundi. Invariably,
+He leaps about in his Mother’s arms, and though the small
+chubby face may be keenly intelligent, there is hardly ever a
+suggestion of the imaginative powers and prophetic instinct
+of the Reformer. It is here that Giorgione shows his very
+exceptional genius, for he was able to depict a purely human
+man child in such wise that were the figures cut from his canvases,
+no one could mistake them for mere ordinary offspring.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Giorgione used none of the affected graces or sentimentalities
+of Raphael, nor did he depend upon such weirdness as
+Leonardo chose; as a result, his figures are as much more
+satisfying to the inquiring intellect as a living fountain is
+compared with the mirage of the desert. His means are simple.
+There is no exaggeration of action, as in the Titian Child,
+but all is essentially delicate and infantine. There is no exaggeration
+of expression, but a slightly dreamy, far-away
+look as of powers still unwakened, and one feels, as before no
+other representations of the Child, that such as He might
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>attain to even Calvary. Taken in connection with the
+agreement of the details, this spiritual similarity of the work
+to others that we know are by Giorgione must give him pause
+who should think to name Titian as the author.<a id='r77'></a><a href='#f77' class='c015'><sup>[77]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Another picture which, I believe, deserves more attention
+than has yet been given it hangs, under the name of Giovanni
+Bellini, in the <i>Museo Correr</i> in Venice. The picture represents
+the dead Christ, seated on the edge of the tomb, upheld
+by three angels. In the background is a landscape, with a
+church on the right. It is painted on a panel about four feet
+high. The Anonimo Morelli says that in the year 1530 in
+the house of Gabriel Vendramin: “El Cristo morto sopra el
+sepolcro, con l’Anzolo che el sostenta, fu de man de Zorzi da
+Castelfranco, reconzato da Tiziano.” The picture in the
+Correr Museum represents this same scene, but there are
+three angels instead of one. This difference between the
+picture and the description need not make us hesitate to consider
+the question whether Giorgione was the author of the
+work, if there are other reasons to render such authorship
+possible.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Any one, however, who has used early books such as the
+Anonimo knows how very inaccurate the authors often were
+and any one who has studied Italian painting knows that to
+represent the dead Christ held by only one angel is entirely
+contrary to precedent and practice. The present condition
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>of the work is such that it is impossible to say whether it was
+ever <i>raconzato da Tiziano</i> or not. It is a mere wreck. That
+there are distinct resemblances to Bellini’s work is not to be
+denied, but, if I mistake not, there exist even stronger ones
+to that of Giorgione. A slight stiffness in drawing, a certain
+archaism in drapery, is just what one would expect to find in
+the work of Bellini’s pupil. In the modelling and action of
+the figures, however, there are evidences of an attempt at
+freedom of design such as are rare in Bellini’s work. Four
+works of Bellini occur at once as criteria for judging the
+quality of the one under discussion—the Pietà in the Brera,
+one in the Mond collection in London, one in Rimini, and one
+in the Berlin Gallery.<a id='r78'></a><a href='#f78' class='c015'><sup>[78]</sup></a> None of these show the slender,
+rather unmodelled hands of the Correr picture; none presents
+so vivid a picture of Death. In none except the one at Rimini
+are the secondary figures really supporting the Christ,—the
+body does not show, as in the Correr picture, the relaxation
+of death, and in the Rimini picture the angels are much more
+playfully treated than in the Correr panel. The Bellini pictures
+are deeply touching, but to me there seems an even
+nobler and more moving sentiment in the work which I fain
+would attribute to Giorgione, and it is just such a sentiment
+as the painter of the Vicenza Christ might have suggested.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>The heads of the figures of the dead Christ in the works of
+Bellini are without exception represented as <i>asleep</i>. In the
+Correr picture one sees more than sleep in the closed eyes and
+drawn mouth of the Saviour. There is death—but death,
+the tragedy, so combined with a yearning, soul-compelling
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>sadness, that the face can never be forgotten by whoso once
+has seen it, and this is spiritual life. Scarcely any other
+artist ever equalled Giorgione, and none certainly ever surpassed
+him, in the power of representing the members of the
+Holy Family. There are many fine presentations of Christ
+bearing the Cross, but none so imaginative as the Vicenza
+picture. For there we see in the sensitive face, the direct
+eye, and steady earnest mouth, the signs of completed power
+over self, while in the tear drop that sparkles on the cheek
+is the sign of suffering that broke the body, whose soul it
+could not quell—for neither brow nor eye are those of one
+who weeps. The Correr painting contains a similar double
+suggestion. Two details there are also which bear out the
+idea that Giorgione is the author. One is the technique which
+so far as can be seen is of the rich, smooth, carefully shaded
+kind, peculiar to Giorgione’s work. The other is the landscape
+in which the low horizon line and the plumy trees correspond
+closely to his certain works. Wreck though it be,
+and possibly only a copy of the original, it is worth study by
+students.<a id='r79'></a><a href='#f79' class='c015'><sup>[79]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c007'>A smaller, but fortunately much more perfectly preserved,
+work hangs in the London Gallery under the name of School
+of Giorgione. It represents a bearded man on a throne and
+other figures in an open landscape. Whoever, unafraid of finding
+something unexpected, looks at this picture with critical
+eye, will, I think, realise that it is not a school work, but by
+the master himself. It is very carefully wrought in design and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>execution, as a youthful work would be likely to be, and as the
+two Florence panels are. The rich clear colours and the bright
+sunshine spread over the scene, are such as are found in the
+Florence panels, the Kingston Lacy picture, those in Vienna,
+and the Virgin of Castelfranco. The landscape is typically
+Giorgionesque, closed in as it is in the foreground, and opening
+into a middle distance of rich meadows, enlivened here and
+there with tall steep-roofed houses. The rich detail and
+broad chiaroscuro find their counterpart over and over again
+in Giorgione’s work; and finally, who but Giorgione ever
+presented to our delighted eyes a scene so simple, so dreamlike,
+so poetic, so defined, and yet so difficult to understand?
+It is a dream picture, rendered with the utmost clearness of
+vision. It is only the masters who can do this—only Giorgione
+and Keats and such rare spirits who can put in terms
+for the ordinary plodding mortal to grasp, the evanescent
+visions of the mind.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Of very different character is the portrait of a youth in a
+large hat in the Vienna Gallery. Crowe and Cavalcaselle
+attribute this to Morto da Feltre. It was impossible for me
+to see the original when I was in Vienna, but study of an excellent
+photograph makes me doubt this attribution. If I
+mistake not, the picture might be a copy of a portrait by
+Giorgione. The treatment of the landscape is sufficient to
+show that Giorgione’s hand did not touch the work itself,
+but scarcely any other than Giorgione can have originated
+this grave sweet face with the steady eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>To close this necessarily unsatisfactory part of my subject,
+there is the etching by H. van der Borcht which quite possibly
+is copied from a lost Giorgione. It represents a woman
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>seated upon a dead warrior, and below the figures are the
+words <i>Giorgione inv</i>.<a id='r80'></a><a href='#f80' class='c015'><sup>[80]</sup></a> It seems not unlikely that it preserves
+for us one of the frescoes long since faded from some
+palace wall in Venice. It is but the echo of a voice that is
+still, but even as such it means much.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>If now my arguments, in the foregoing discussion, are based
+upon sound reason rather than upon theory, it results that the
+following are the works by which we must judge Giorgione’s
+genius, and that these must serve as a standard for further
+study of his work:</p>
+
+  <dl class='dl_1'>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>1. Vienna, David (copy).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>2. Vienna, Three Philosophers.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>3. Vienna, Gypsy Madonna.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>4. Vienna, Portrait of a Youth (copy?).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>5. Venice, Fondaco dei Tedeschi. (The engravings can be used in giving suggestions of 
+    Giorgione’s methods of composition.)
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>6. Venice, Chiesa di San Rocco, Christ carrying the Cross.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>7. Venice, Giovanelli Palace, Soldier and Woman.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>8. Venice, Correr Museum, Pietà (copy?).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>9. Castelfranco, Madonna Enthroned.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>10. Dresden, Venus.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>11. Kingston Lacy, Judgment of Solomon.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>12. Buda Pesth, Birth of Paris (copy).
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>13. Florence, Uffizi, Judgment of Solomon.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>14. Florence, Uffizi, Fire-test of Moses.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>15. Florence, Uffizi, Knight of Malta.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>16. Boston, Mrs. Gardner, Head of Christ.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>17. London, National Gallery, Study for figure of San Liberale.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>18. London, National Gallery, Epiphany.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>19. London, National Gallery, David and Solomon.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>20. London, Mr. Beaumont (Lord Allandale), Shepherd’s Offering.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>21. London, Mr. Benson, Holy Family.
+    </dd>
+    <dt>&#160;</dt>
+    <dd>22. St. Petersburg, Hermitage, Judith.
+    </dd>
+    </dl>
+
+<p class='c007'>At first sight it may seem that there is more variety of
+style in these pictures than the works of any one artist would
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>show, especially one who died young. There are, however,
+certain general considerations to be clearly remembered.
+Giorgione was born and grew up in a time of great discovery,
+when long-established thoughts and habits were rapidly
+changing, so that we should commit a serious error were we to
+expect him to paint the same subjects, or in the same manner,
+as his predecessors. His works would necessarily be different
+from theirs. He would naturally show greater variety and,
+owing to his youth, his style would not have become fixed.
+What is certain is that his contemporaries regarded him with
+the greatest admiration, so the best way to fit ourselves to
+judge him is to study the life of Venice in his day.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is not much that is left us of the great man’s life work,
+but it suffices to show what he was, not only as a painter, but
+as a man; and why his influence was so great on his contemporaries,
+and why so long as the human heart stays young his
+spirit will continue to call loudly to it. That he was a perfect
+colourist, that is to say, that he understood how to juxtapose
+the rich oriental colours of the Venetian palette in such
+wise that each tint emphasised the effect of all the others,
+or that as a draughtsman he could adequately portray the
+images in his brain, does not explain the effect he has on those
+who care for him. These are merely technical qualities that
+are not difficult to acquire, and that many a man has possessed.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>It is the spirit of Giorgione’s work that makes him what he
+is. He spoke in the simplest, broadest way to the deeper
+side of our nature. Not so imbued with the ceremonies of
+religion as his master Bellini, nor so given over to the full-blooded
+joy in the beauties of this world as his comrade Titian,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>he recognised that fanaticism or sensuality are equally spiritual
+death, and that the whole and perfect soul must be tempered
+in the fires of the heart, and cooled in the breezes of
+Nature. No such loveable Madonna had been painted as
+she of Castelfranco,—no purer presentation exists of the
+compelling beauty of the human figure than his Venus. Unabashed
+“he held both hands before the fire of life,” not
+warming first one and then the other, but with true poetic
+feeling combining every beauty that he perceived in one
+harmonious song.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Always steadily reaching for the same goal, this even-poised
+master did not one day paint such exalted figures as
+Bellini’s Virgin and Companion Saints in the Frari, and on
+another such heathen festivities as the same master’s Bacchanal.
+But, as he loved music and pleasant company and
+such pleasantnesses of life, so in his painting he shows us grace
+and harmony and good breeding. And as these things are
+hard to find in our daily course and harder still to fix long
+enough to paint their semblance, he fashioned for himself a
+world, an Arcadia, where men and women, surrounded by
+beautiful Nature, lived together, enjoying a life where there
+was both work and play. In all temperate reason they employ
+their energies now on problems of deep thought, and now
+in the satisfaction of health and natural bodily enjoyment,
+and it is just because of the reasonableness of this balance
+of mind and body that his pictures seem poetic, dreamlike
+and difficult to explain. As Keats, more than any scientist
+or idle dreamer, tells how the nightingale entrances the soul,
+so Giorgione depicts the Virgin and her Child guarded by
+attendant Saints, or adored by kings and slaves, with greater
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>persuasiveness than any theologian. But he does this neither
+as one diverted only by the pageantry, nor as an historian.
+Endowed with a poet’s instinct, he saw the deeper meaning of
+the scene and depicted those parts that truly illustrate it.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Other artists there have been endowed with this same instinct,
+but their works do not obtain from us of to-day as full
+response as from our forefathers who lived when they were
+painted, and this because they do not give visual form to
+matters of lasting import, but to those fleeting affairs that
+constitute fashion. This is not so of Giorgione. The glory
+of his work will never fade, for his appeal is to the spirit of
+youth—that spirit which is compounded of a pure and natural
+love in all things beautiful, be they physical or spiritual,
+natural or divine, and with energy sufficient to urge it forward
+to the acquisition of, and the becoming part of, each and all
+of these various perfections. Such was Giorgione: neither
+utterly pagan, nor completely christian, but absolutely human
+in the finest sense, in that his perceptions were clear enough
+to see the special value of all things beautiful and his technical
+powers adequate to give due expression to that which he
+perceived.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>
+  <h2 class='c005'>INDEX</h2>
+</div>
+
+<ul class='index c002'>
+  <li class='c024'>Alexander, portraits of, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>allegory of Time and Truth, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>archæological study of art, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>art as an index of life, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>
+    <ul>
+      <li>function of, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Athena, head of, from Cyrene, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a> f.
+    <ul>
+      <li>date of, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a></li>
+      <li>local work, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c002'>beauty, Greek love of, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Bellini and Giorgione, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Bellini, Bacchanal, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Berenson, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Bernini, an estimate of, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a> f.
+    <ul>
+      <li>architectural work, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a> f.</li>
+      <li>classes of his work, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+      <li>clay models, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a> f.</li>
+      <li>contemporary honour for, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a></li>
+      <li>designs for piazza of St. Peter’s, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a> f.</li>
+      <li>early life of, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a></li>
+      <li>estimate and characterization of, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+      <li>expression of religion, <a href='#Page_22'>22</a></li>
+      <li>influence of, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a></li>
+      <li>multiplicity of sketches, <a href='#Page_19'>19</a></li>
+      <li>originality of, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a></li>
+      <li>portraits of, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a> f.</li>
+      <li>sculptor’s models, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a> f., <a href='#Page_44'>44</a> f.
+        <ul>
+          <li>list of, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>technique of, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a> f.</li>
+      <li>versatility, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Bernini, works of,
+    <ul>
+      <li>Æneas and Anchises, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+      <li>angels, used in architecture, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a> f.</li>
+      <li>Apollo and Daphne, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+      <li>Baldacchino in St. Peter’s, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li>
+      <li>Beata Albertona, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a></li>
+      <li>Cattedra in St. Peter’s, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li>
+      <li>Daniel in the lions’ den, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a></li>
+      <li>David, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+      <li>fountains, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a></li>
+      <li>Habakkuk, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a></li>
+      <li>Maria di Magdala, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li>
+      <li>portraits, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>
+        <ul>
+          <li>Bishop Santoni, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>
+          <li>Costanza Buonavelli, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>
+          <li>Francis I, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+          <li>Louis XIV, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+          <li>Mons. Francesco Barberini, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+          <li>Mons. Montoya, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>
+          <li>Paul V, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Proserpina, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+      <li>saints, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a></li>
+      <li>Santa Bibiana, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a></li>
+      <li>St. Jerome, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a></li>
+      <li>Saint Theresa, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+      <li>Truth, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Borghese pope, patronage of, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Borghese warrior, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Botticelli, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>
+    <ul>
+      <li>Virgin and child in Boston, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Brandegee Collection, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Browning, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Brunn, H., <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Bupalos and Athenis, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>Carracci, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Cariani and Giorgione, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Catena and Giorgione, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>
+    <ul>
+      <li>draperies of, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li>
+      <li>St. Jerome (National Gallery), <a href='#Page_178'>178</a></li>
+      <li>Knight adoring Infant Christ, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Corbulo, portrait of, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Cyrene, sculpture of, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a> f.</li>
+  <li class='c002'>Dante, Greek spirit in, <a href='#Page_113'>113</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Demetrius of Alopeke, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>Egyptian portraiture, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>
+    <ul>
+      <li>sculpture, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>emotion controlled in Greece, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>evolution of art, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>Farnese Hercules, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Florentine portraits, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Furtwaengler, A., <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Futurists, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>Ghirlandaio, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Giorgione, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a> f.
+    <ul>
+      <li>draperies of, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li>
+      <li>life, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a></li>
+      <li>list of works, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>, <a href='#Page_210'>210</a>
+        <ul>
+          <li>Anonimo Morelli, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a></li>
+          <li>Barri, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a></li>
+          <li>Berenson, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+          <li>Crowe and Cavalcaselle, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a></li>
+          <li>Morelli, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>
+          <li>Ridolfi, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a></li>
+          <li>Vasari, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>paintings attributed to, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a> f.</li>
+      <li>romantic quality of, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+      <li>spirit of his work, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a></li>
+      <li>the true Giorgione, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a> f.</li>
+      <li>treatment of landscape, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Giorgione, works of,
+    <ul>
+      <li>Birth of Paris (copy, Buda-Pesth), <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+      <li>Christ carrying the Cross (San Rocco, Vienna), <a href='#Page_184'>184</a></li>
+      <li>David and Solomon (National Gallery), <a href='#Page_208'>208</a></li>
+      <li>Epiphany (National Gallery), <a href='#Page_175'>175</a></li>
+      <li>Gypsy Madonna (Vienna), <a href='#Page_204'>204</a></li>
+      <li>Head of Christ (Gardner Collection, Boston), <a href='#Page_185'>185</a></li>
+      <li>Holy Family (Benson), <a href='#Page_183'>183</a> f.</li>
+      <li>Judgment of Solomon (Kingston Lacy), <a href='#Page_172'>172</a> f., <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>
+      <li>Knight of Malta (Uffizi), <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a></li>
+      <li>Madonna Enthroned (Castelfranco), <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+      <li>Pietà (Venice), <a href='#Page_206'>206</a></li>
+      <li>Portrait (Temple Newsam), <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
+      <li>Portrait (Vienna), <a href='#Page_209'>209</a></li>
+      <li>San Liberale (National Gallery), <a href='#Page_186'>186</a></li>
+      <li>Shepherd’s Offering (Lord Allandale), <a href='#Page_180'>180</a> f.</li>
+      <li>The Tempest (Venice), <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+      <li>Three Philosophers (Vienna), <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+      <li>Venus (Dresden), <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Giorgione, works attributed to,
+    <ul>
+      <li>Allegory (Dresden), <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+      <li>Cassone pictures (Padua), <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+      <li>Concert (Pitti), <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
+      <li>Daphne and Apollo (Venice), <a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+      <li>Fête Champêtre (Louvre), <a href='#Page_189'>189</a></li>
+      <li>Head of Boy (Hampton Court), <a href='#Page_187'>187</a></li>
+      <li>Judith (St. Petersburg), <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+      <li>Madonna (Madrid), <a href='#Page_193'>193</a></li>
+      <li>Madonna and Saints (Louvre), <a href='#Page_187'>187</a></li>
+      <li>Nymph and Satyr (Pitti), <a href='#Page_187'>187</a></li>
+      <li>Orpheus and Eurydice (Bergamo), <a href='#Page_200'>200</a></li>
+      <li>Portrait (Berlin), <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
+      <li>Portrait (Borghese), <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+      <li>Portrait (Buda-Pesth), <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
+      <li>Portrait (from Crespi Collection), <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
+      <li>Portrait (from Doetsch Collection), <a href='#Page_201'>201</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Guido, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>hair as a means of dating sculpture, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Hipponax, caricature of, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>humanity of the Greek gods, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>Kresilas, portrait of Pericles, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a> f.</li>
+  <li class='c002'>Laocoon, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Laws of sculpture, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Leonardo, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>logical reasoning about pictures, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Longinus, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Lowell on Lincoln, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>lucidity of Greek sculpture, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Lysippus, portraits of Alexander, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>“Massacre of the Innocents,” <a href='#Page_73'>73</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>materials for sculpture, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Michael Angelo and Bernini, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Michael Angelo, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a> f.
+    <ul>
+      <li>affectation of the period, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+      <li>complexity of his work, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+      <li>feeling for the nude figure, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>
+      <li>muscles emphasized, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a></li>
+      <li>period of, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+      <li>pupils of, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+      <li>sonnets and letters, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>Michael Angelo, works of,
+    <ul>
+      <li>Bacchus, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a> f.</li>
+      <li>Battle of the Centaurs, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a></li>
+      <li>David, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a></li>
+      <li>Eros, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+      <li>Madonna of Bruges, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a></li>
+      <li>Moses, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a></li>
+      <li>Night and Dawn, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+      <li>Pietà in St. Peter’s, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a></li>
+      <li>Sistine Chapel, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a> f., <a href='#Page_132'>132</a></li>
+      <li>Victor, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Morelli on Giorgione, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a> f.</li>
+  <li class='c024'>Mourning Athena, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Myron’s Discobolus, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>mystical fervour in art, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>Niobid group, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>nude figure felt under drapery, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a> f.</li>
+  <li class='c002'>Oberammergau, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>origins of art, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>Pausanias, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Pericles, portrait of, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a> f.</li>
+  <li class='c024'>Pheidias and Michael Angelo, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a> f.</li>
+  <li class='c024'>Pheidias, age of, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>
+    <ul>
+      <li>and Pericles, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+      <li>influence of, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a> f.</li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>Pheidias, work of,
+    <ul>
+      <li>Athena Parthenos, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a></li>
+      <li>Lemnian Athena, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a></li>
+      <li>Parthenon, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>
+        <ul>
+          <li>frieze, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+          <li>pediments, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Zeus, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c024'>photography and art criticism, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>physical beauty prized by Greeks, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>portraits of women and children, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>portraits made for friends, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>portraiture, art of, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a> f.
+    <ul>
+      <li>commemorative, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a></li>
+      <li>Egyptian, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a></li>
+      <li>Florentine, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a></li>
+      <li>Greek and Roman, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a></li>
+      <li>in language, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a></li>
+      <li>in large compositions, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a></li>
+      <li>in painting and sculpture, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a></li>
+      <li>motives for, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a></li>
+      <li>religious, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a></li>
+      <li>summary, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c002'>Raphael, Angelo Doni, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>realism, in sculpture, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>realism, Greek and Roman, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>religion and art, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Roselli, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Roman art, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Ruskin, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>Scipio, so-called bust of, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Sheik-el-Beled, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Shelley, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Silanion, <a href='#Page_83'>83</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>technical peculiarities in paintings, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a> f.</li>
+  <li class='c024'>temple, significance of the Greek, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Tintoretto, Greek spirit of, <a href='#Page_113'>113</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Titian, Duke of Norfolk, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Triton, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>“Truth unveiled by Time,” <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c024'>Turner’s Rizpah, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>violence in art, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>wealth and art, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
+  <li class='c002'>youth in Greek art, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+</ul>
+
+<hr class='c025'>
+<div class='footnote' id='f1'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. Filippo Baldinucci Fiorentino. <cite>Vita del cavaliere Gio. Lorenzo Bernini.</cite>
+Firenze. 1682.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Domenico Bernino. <cite>Vita del cavaliere Gio. Lorenzo Bernino.</cite> Roma. 1713.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Stanislao Fraschetti. <cite>Il Bernini.</cite> Milan. 1900.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f2'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Fraschetti, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 47.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f3'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. Fraschetti, <i>op. cit.</i>, pp. 425, 426.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f4'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. Fraschetti, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 428.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f5'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. This portrait (Fraschetti, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 434) is probably a copy of one owned by
+Baron Geymüller in London.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f6'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. Fraschetti, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 429.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f7'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. In the Museum at Weimar is a portrait on which is written that it was done by
+Bernini himself, and as an <i>autoritratto</i> it has been published by Fraschetti (p. 433).
+It is a wretched performance, done not by Bernini, but by someone who had neither
+an observant eye nor a well-trained hand.</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>There is still another portrait which I think is very probably of him. It hangs in
+the Capitoline Gallery in Rome (Plate II), where it is called “Portrait of Velasquez,
+by himself,” an attribution which no student of Velasquez would maintain to-day.
+The shape of the head and face and the expression are extremely like Bernini.
+Even the different shape and angle of the two eyebrows is the same as in his portraits.
+The quality of the hair is the same, and the way it grows over the temples.
+In the earlier portraits of him the hair is parted on the right side as in the Capitoline
+picture. The nose is very nearly the same as in the pencil portraits by himself
+in the National Gallery in Rome and in the Chigi collection.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f8'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. The Borghese Warrior was found at Anzio at the beginning of the seventeenth
+century. See Friederichs-Wolters, <cite>Gipsabgüsse</cite>, 1885, p. 541 f; Vulpius, <cite>Vetus
+Latium</cite>, 1726, Vol. III, p. 28.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f9'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. It is not improbable that the statue of St. Lawrence, in the Strozzi palace in
+Florence, which Bernini made at this time, was influenced by the Dying Gaul.
+The two statues resemble each other closely in many ways. There is a tradition
+that Michael Angelo restored certain small portions of the Gaul, but the character
+of the work of the restorations suggests Bernini rather than Michael Angelo.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f10'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r10'>10</a>. In Brookline, Mass.; see p. 44 and Plates XI-XXVII.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f11'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r11'>11</a>. The head reminds one of the Capitoline Alexander, which Bernini may have
+seen.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f12'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r12'>12</a>. Balcarres, <cite>The Evolution of Italian Sculpture</cite>, p. 333–334.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f13'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r13'>13</a>. Balcarres, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 334.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f14'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r14'>14</a>. In relation to the influence of ancient work on Bernini, it is worth note that the
+four great figures in the Piazza Navona are very Hellenistic in character and would,
+if turned into reliefs with their surrounding trees and animals, resemble closely the
+fountain-reliefs of the Græco-Roman world.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f15'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r15'>15</a>. The one of Paul V is in the Villa Borghese, Rome; the other two are in the
+National Gallery, Venice.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f16'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r16'>16</a>. In the Brandegee Collection. It was published by Signor Busiri-Vici in
+his work <cite>La Piazza Vaticana</cite>, Rome, 1890, and by Fraschetti, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 307.
+The latter gives reduced and poor reproductions of the drawings. We have
+thought it worth while therefore to reproduce them on a larger scale; see Part III
+of this Study.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f17'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r17'>17</a>. In San Lorenzo in Lucina, Rome.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f18'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r18'>18</a>. They were exhibited in Rome by the then owner Sig. Andrea Busiri-Vici at the
+Bernini Exposition in 1879 and are spoken of and reproduced in small form by
+Fraschetti in his book on Bernini.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f19'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r19'>19</a>. And these bonds are dependent, I believe, on fundamental laws of sculpture
+and painting.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f20'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r20'>20</a>. It is true that wood was sometimes made use of, but for serious work only in
+the early times before the art had been developed. Nor can it be supposed that
+the lack of marble in Egypt was the effective cause that led to the use of granites
+and basalts. The Egyptians were energetic traders and might have obtained
+marble had they desired it, but the fact is they preferred the harder sorts of stone,
+though alabaster was sometimes used.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f21'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r21'>21</a>. That there may be no misunderstanding of the terms employed, I will say that
+by breadth of treatment I mean that the sculptor or painter leaves the various
+surfaces of the object reproduced by him in large measure unbroken by small lights
+and shades which, however true to nature, are apt in art to distract the attention
+from the general effect. Though small differences are disregarded there may be,
+as Greek work shows, exquisite modulation of surface.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f22'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r22'>22</a>. I refer of course to statues in the round. The bas-reliefs show much free action
+due partly to the technique, partly to their being in softer stone and partly to the
+fact that the figures in them are illustrations to historic chronicles and not primarily
+portraits. So too figures and groups in wood, faience or metal are freer.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f23'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r23'>23</a>. The bas-relief of the potter in the Acropolis Museum in Athens belongs to this
+class.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f24'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r24'>24</a>. Though no woman has ever reached the highest rank in any art, her influence
+has been enormous. It is a subject to be studied by itself, but it must be constantly
+kept in mind that no people who have regarded woman from any but the highest
+point of view has ever produced the noblest art. It may be a fallacy to regard her
+so, but it is the most powerful and helpful ideal the western mind has yet conceived.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f25'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r25'>25</a>. When kept to its true course, the magnificent effects attained by language in
+perpetuating landscape are splendidly seen in Ruskin, when, for example, he describes
+the Roman Campagna (Preface to 2d ed., <cite>Modern Painters</cite>) or Verona
+(<cite>Joy Forever</cite>, sec. 76 ff.).</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f26'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r26'>26</a>. In speaking of Niobe I refer naturally to the group in Florence and not to the
+less well known and understood earlier groups at St. Petersburg and elsewhere;
+typical examples of the massacre are those by Matteo di Giovanni, in the church
+of the Servi at Siena, and by Fra Angelico in the Academy at Florence.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f27'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r27'>27</a>. The copies known to me are (1) in the British Museum, (2) in the Vatican,
+(3) in the collection of Barrone Barracco, Rome, and (4) a fragment in the collection
+of Alden Sampson, Esq., Haverford, Penn.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f28'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r28'>28</a>. This is not the place to discuss the meaning of the Latin word <i>nobilis</i>. Suffice
+to say that if it is translated in this passage by its more commonplace equivalent
+of <i>famous</i>, the criticism has little point, since it is self-evident that an enduring
+monument, whether a statue or bust, adds to the fame of the individual in whose
+honour it is erected.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f29'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r29'>29</a>. It is a long-standing error to suppose that Pericles’s skull as shown in these
+busts is peculiarly domed. The shape of the tilted helmet makes it seem to be so,
+but comparison with other heads covered by the Corinthian helmet shows that
+his is in no way abnormal when thus represented, however it may have been when
+uncovered.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f30'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r30'>30</a>. In the Brandegee Collection.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f31'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r31'>31</a>. One instance will suffice to show what I mean by this. Far more pure imagination
+is shown in the Italian representations of the Creation or the Last Judgment
+than in the Greek scenes of the lives of their Gods with which they decorated pediment
+and frieze.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f32'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r32'>32</a>. The recent discovery of a life-size marble copy of the Athena of the Marsyas
+group has made Myron’s character much clearer than before. See Pollak in the
+<cite>Jahresheften des Oesterreichischen Archaeologischen Institutes</cite>, 1909, p. 154.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f33'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r33'>33</a>. The modern theory that wall paintings should be flat, that they should not give
+the impression of an opening beyond the wall they are on, is contradicted by all the
+practice of the Renaissance. Lippi, Gozzoli, Leonardo, Raphael, Michael Angelo,
+Veronese, Correggio, to recall but a few, all used wall painting as a means of suggesting
+larger dimensions and more ample space than the rooms they decorated
+actually afforded.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f34'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r34'>34</a>. To illustrate by an example: the low relief work of the Tempietto at Rimini
+is a more perfect form of decoration (partly because of its permanency) than
+painting would have been.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f35'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r35'>35</a>. In the <cite>Bulletin of the Archæological Institute of America</cite>, Vol. II (1910–11),
+Plates 47 and 79, and p. 162.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f36'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r36'>36</a>. Mr. Berenson has done much to correct the attributions in his studies on the
+artist he calls, since his real name is unknown, the <cite>Amico di Sandro</cite>. Berenson’s
+<i>amico</i> was, I believe, several <i>amici</i>.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f37'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r37'>37</a>. In the gallery of Mr. Davis, in Newport, R.I.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f38'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r38'>38</a>. An inscription of the seventeenth century on the back of this picture reads:
+<cite>Giorgon De Castel Franco</cite>, F. Maestro De Titiano. The picture was engraved by
+Wenzel Hollar in 1650, as the portrait of Buffalmacco by Giorgione.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f39'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r39'>39</a>. The picture in Brunswick, a poor replica of which is in Buda-Pesth, is, or is
+derived from, a picture engraved by Hollar in 1650 and called by him a “portrait
+of Giorgione by himself.” This is possible, but the picture is a mere wreck. See
+Justi, <i>loc. cit.</i></p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f40'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r40'>40</a>. Larpent, “Le jugement de Paris attribué au Giorgione,” Christiania, 1885.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f41'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r41'>41</a>. See Gronau, <cite>Repertorium für Kunstwissenchaft</cite>, 1908, p. 405. His comment
+on p. 407 seems to me an error.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f42'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r42'>42</a>. Cf. p. 52 f.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f43'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r43'>43</a>. <cite>The Painter’s Voyage of Italy.</cite> Englished by W. Lodge. Written originally in
+Italian by Giacomo Barri, 1679.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f44'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r44'>44</a>. I put a question mark after those which by general consent are no longer
+attributed to Giorgione, and those which I doubt and shall discuss in the following
+pages.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f45'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r45'>45</a>. It is noteworthy that the backs of these two panels have patterns painted on
+them showing that the pictures once formed part of some piece of furniture, and
+it was in decorating such objects that much of Giorgione’s time, according to
+Ridolfi, was employed. For Bode’s remarks cf. Burchardt’s <cite>Cicerone</cite>, Vol. II, 913.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f46'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r46'>46</a>. <cite>Die Galerien zu München und Dresden</cite> (Leipzig, 1891), p. 270 f.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f47'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r47'>47</a>. Morelli adds the following note: “Weder die Herren Crowe und Cavalcaselli,
+noch Herr Director W. Bode lassen diese zwei Bildchen alz Werke des Giorgione
+gelten, sondern sehen dieselben als Schülerarbeiten an.” So far as Crowe and
+Cavalcaselle are concerned, this statement is an error, as one can easily see by reading
+what they say on pp. 128–9 of the second volume of their <cite>History of Painting
+in North Italy</cite>.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f48'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r48'>48</a>. I have not yet mentioned this picture, but shall speak of it in detail later.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f49'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r49'>49</a>. <cite>The Venetian Painters of the Renaissance</cite>, p. 107.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f50'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r50'>50</a>. <cite>Gazette des Beaux Arts</cite>, October, 1897.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f51'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r51'>51</a>. Berenson in the first edition of his little book on Venetian Painting did not
+mention it either, but in the third edition he passes it by with these words: “The
+scarcely less famous picture belonging to Mr. Banks is by the hand which painted
+the Christ and Adulteress, of the Glasgow Corporation Gallery, and that hand
+is Giovanni Cariani’s. To repeat, I would have preferred to publish opinions so
+divergent from those usually received, in a form adequate to the importance of
+the theme; but I console myself with the belief that the merest indication suffices
+the competent. As for the others—Procul o procul este, profani.”</p>
+
+<p class='c007'>Such statements can only be excused by supposing the writer to have been pressed
+for time. Unless they are of sufficient importance for the author to make them intelligible,
+they are not entitled to our consideration. No critic is justified in making
+an arbitrary statement which he will not take the pains to make clear.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f52'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r52'>52</a>. This picture was formerly called a Bellini. It comes from the collection of
+Sir William Miles of Leigh Court. See Redford, <cite>Art Sales</cite>, I, pp. 364–5.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f53'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r53'>53</a>. Berenson, <cite>Venetian Painters of the Renaissance</cite>.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f54'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r54'>54</a>. See <cite>Archivio Storico dell’ Arte</cite>, 1895, I, p. 77. In this passage the writer (Miss
+Ffoulkes) speaking of an exhibition in London mentions the Benson picture and the
+Epiphany. She thinks them by neither Giorgione, nor Catena, but offers no suggestion
+as to the painter except that there is another picture by him in the Venice
+Accademia attributed (wrongly) to Cordegliaghi.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f55'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r55'>55</a>. <cite>Die Galerie zu Dresden</cite>, p. 266 f.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f56'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r56'>56</a>. It is noteworthy that Morelli claimed (as is shown by the + with which the
+attribution is marked) to be the first to show that this picture of the Knight
+was by Catena. Crowe and Cavalcaselle had already written of the picture as by
+Catena. Considerable care must be exercised in the use of Morelli’s writings to
+distinguish between his true discoveries (which were many) and his agreements
+with earlier authorities. It may be that these agreements were based on his own
+private study, but there is a great difference between the result of one’s study leading
+to our giving assent to what others have perceived before us and our discovery
+of what had never been imagined by our predecessors. <i><span lang="la">Pereant qui ante nos nostra
+dixerint</span></i>, but still honesty and justice are of greater value than fame. Nor does
+a pleasant temper show in the implied sarcasm of Morelli’s words about this picture
+which he calls a “<span lang="de">herrliches Werk des Catena, obwohl es im Galeriekatalog noch
+immerfort blos der Schule des Giambellino zugetheilt wird (+).</span>” It is surely not
+so very inaccurate to describe a work by Catena as of the ‘Schule des Giambellino.’</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f57'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r57'>57</a>. A copy of this picture hangs in the Vienna Gallery and I was told by the Director
+in 1901 that he considered it the original; but this seems to me impossible, for
+it is much less good in every way than the Beaumont picture. A drawing of a portion
+of it is at Windsor.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f58'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r58'>58</a>. Parts of Mr. Benson’s picture have suffered from repainting. This is especially
+true of the landscape, which seems to have lost its original form.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f59'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r59'>59</a>. <cite>Die Galerie zu Dresden</cite>, p. 297, n.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f60'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r60'>60</a>. The inaccurate copy in the Rovigo Gallery is a wretched daub that is not
+worth preserving. There are other poor replicas of the picture; one owned by Count
+Lanckoronski in Vienna is considered by Venturi to be the original. The other
+picture in the Rovigo Gallery (No. 11), sometimes spoken of in the same breath
+with Giorgione’s name, is equally worthless. It is nothing but a wretched copy of
+the head of the Vienna David.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f61'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r61'>61</a>. The picture in Madrid is by Titian; the one in the Louvre is said by Crowe and
+Cavalcaselle to be by Pellegrino da San Daniele, while Berenson attributes it to
+Cariani.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f62'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r62'>62</a>. Examen | Historique et Critique | Des Tableaux | Exposées Provisoirement
+| Venant des premier et second envoies de Milan, Crémone, Parme, Plaisance,
+Modène, Cento et Bologne, auquel on a joint le detail de tous les Monumens
+des Arts qui sont arrivés d’Italie.—An VI<sup>e</sup> de la Republique.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f63'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r63'>63</a>. A good replica is in the Corsini Gallery, Florence.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f64'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r64'>64</a>. <cite>Die Galerie zu Dresden</cite>, p. 276.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f65'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r65'>65</a>. And still is in some galleries, as Hampton Court.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f66'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r66'>66</a>. The picture has been much restored, but the faults pointed out here are not due
+to the restorer.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f67'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r67'>67</a>. <cite>Die Galerie zu Dresden</cite>, p. 282. A copy of the picture is at Hampton Court.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f68'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r68'>68</a>. <cite>Die Galerie zu Dresden</cite>, p. 282.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f69'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r69'>69</a>. <cite>Gazette des Beaux Arts</cite>, Oct. 1897, p. 270. Berenson in this suggestive article
+has mixed ecstatic and girlish talk inextricably with sound argument. In his
+criticism of the Judith he says: “Il faudrait le talent d’un poète de premier ordre
+pour exprimer dans la plénitude tout ce qu’on devine dans la <i>Judith</i> de Saint Pétersbourg.”
+True, but though such sentiments fill the page, they do not have the same
+effect on our mind as the picture.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f70'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r70'>70</a>. See the engraving published by Justi in his <cite>Giorgione</cite>.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f71'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r71'>71</a>. <cite>Italian Painters: Critical Studies of their Works.</cite> By Giovanni Morelli. <cite>The
+Galleries of Munich and Dresden.</cite> Translated by C. J. Ffoulkes (London, 1893),
+p. 218.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f72'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r72'>72</a>. <cite>Die Galerien Borghese und Doria-Pamfili in Rom</cite> (Leipzig, 1890), p. 99, n. 1.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f73'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r73'>73</a>. Not only did Morelli weaken his writings by exaggeration—which, however,
+was quite natural—but in the less excusable way of giving illustrations that are
+misleading. The woodcuts which serve to show the <cite>Grundform</cite> of hands and ears
+are only partially exact, and in one case, the Bonifazio ear, a positive caricature.
+The process cuts of the paintings are too miserable to consider. This is unfortunately
+as true of the translations as of the original editions.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f74'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r74'>74</a>. Nothing shows better the distinction between the work of the Renaissance and
+that of to-day than the fact that the careful training to which the earlier artists
+were accustomed led them to produce in their youthful and undeveloped period
+finished works and sketches that are stiff, whereas nowadays the majority of the
+works of young artists show not so much stiffness as laxity. The one developed
+from hardness to easy restraint, the other advances from looseness to a mastery
+generally much less even.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f75'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r75'>75</a>. Reproduced in the <cite>Burlington Magazine</cite>, 1895–6, p. 338.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f76'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r76'>76</a>. The reason I have not discussed in detail the list given by Cook in his
+book on Giorgione (London, 1904) and in various articles in the <cite>Burlington
+Magazine</cite> (1905–1906) and <cite>Gazette des Beaux Arts</cite> (1902) is due to no careless
+disregard of his work but to the fact that his point of view in regard to Giorgione
+and the principles of criticism are so utterly dissimilar to mine that no good would
+be gained from pointing out in detail my disagreement with his judgment.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f77'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r77'>77</a>. Since writing the above I have been pleased to have Signor Venturi tell me that
+he, too, considered the work to be by Giorgione. He does not agree with me about
+the Benson, Beaumont and National Gallery Holy Families, but he does not
+share the Catena theory of their origin. His full views will unquestionably be propounded
+in his forthcoming edition of Vasari’s <cite>Life of Giorgione</cite>. Cook also thinks
+this Virgin is by Giorgione. Venturi’s views on Giorgione are indicated in the
+<cite>Galleria Crespi</cite>, p. 133 f.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f78'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r78'>78</a>. I leave out the one with the forged monogram of Albert Dürer in the Correr
+Museum, for it is, I believe, by no means sure that Bellini was the painter.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f79'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r79'>79</a>. Before the earthquake I saw in the Gallery at Messina a picture by Antonello
+da Messina the composition of which is practically identical with, and must be the
+origin of, the Correr panel. Whether the Messina picture still exists or was destroyed
+I do not know.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f80'>
+<p class='c007'><a href='#r80'>80</a>. Justi’s book contains a reproduction of the engraving. A copy of the engraving
+is owned by Mr. C. F. Murray of London.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c003'>
+</div>
+<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'>
+
+<div class='chapter ph2'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c001'>
+    <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+ <ul class='ul_1 c002'>
+    <li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+
+    </li>
+    <li>Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last chapter.
+    </li>
+  </ul>
+
+</div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77325 ***</div>
+  </body>
+  <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e (with regex) on 2025-10-17 19:01:15 GMT -->
+</html>
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diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
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+This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #77325
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77325)