THE history of Sculpture in Italy divides into two distinct, yet
connected, subjects of inquiry, embracing two very dissimilar
dynasties--the Etruscan and the Roman. Of the former interesting people
we know far too little commensurate with their power, and the influence
which they appear to have exercised upon the spirit and progress of
ancient art. The Thyrreneans, or Etruscans, it is certain, possessed,
at a very early period, the empire of almost the whole Italian
peninsula, and, to a very considerable extent, whatever of refinement
existed in those primitive times. Respecting the origin of the nation,
however, and the sources of this intelligence, authors disagree; while
the scanty annals that have reached us, through the medium of the
Latins and Greeks, enemies or rivals, leave but too much scope for
unsettled opinion. The various systems here may be arranged under two
general heads; first, that the Etruscans were of Lydian extraction,
and under their king, Thyrrenus, settled in Italy at an era anterior
to authentic history: or, secondly, that the early colonization of
Etruria was owing to the wandering tribes from Greece, chiefly of the
Pelasgic race, who settled at different times prior to the Trojan war.
Neither of these opinions, singly, accords with contemporary, nor
explains subsequent events; combined, they account both for the skill
attained by the Etruscans in the arts of taste and civil government,
while Greece was yet in a state of pastoral rudeness, and also for
the subsequent interweaving into their history of Grecian fable and
mythology. We enter not farther into this disquisition, interesting as
it undoubtedly is. For our present purpose, it is sufficient to bear
in mind, that Sculpture in Etruria had attained a coeval, if not a
prior, degree of refinement as compared with Greece, and that regard to
preserving the unity of the subject has alone occasioned the precedence
in time given to the arts of the latter.
The remains of Etruscan Sculpture are not numerous, and of these the
authenticity of some may justly be doubted. Taken in general, the works
of national art consist of medals and coins; statues of bronze and
marble; relievos; sculptured gems; engraved bronzes; and paintings.
The first class is the most numerous, and contains many beautiful,
indeed, for those early ages, wonderful specimens. These are all
cast of a compound metal, being of two kinds, either mythological or
symbolical in their representations. Of the statues, it is difficult
to say whether those in marble be early Greek or Etruscan; the smaller
ones in bronze are more authentic, being household divinities, or
merely ornaments: of those in the size of nature, scarcely one has
escaped suspicion of its true age. One or two exhibit great beauty.
Of the ancient relievos found in various parts of Italy, several
are admitted to be genuine Etruscan; and here there can be little
hesitation, as a series of sepulchral monuments, sarcophagi, and
altars, might be arranged and compared throughout the whole period of
Italian history. Gem engraving was brought to great perfection at an
early period both in Greece and Italy. Of this minute but charming art,
probably the oldest specimen now extant represents five of the seven
chiefs who fought against Thebes. Of this the design is inartificial,
and the workmanship rude; other Etruscan gems, however, or _scarabæi_,
from their resemblance to the shape of a beetle, as the Tydeus and
Peleus, equal the most exquisite performances in this branch. The most
curious and numerous remains belong to the class of engraved bronzes,
or pateræ, small vessels used in sacrificing, circular, and, in the
single instance of the Etruscan, with a handle. On the bottom, inside,
which is perfectly flat, being merely a plate surrounded with a shallow
brim, there is usually engraved some mythological subject, of simple
design, expressed in few, bold, firm, and deep lines.
In the style of these remains, three distinct eras of art among the
Etruscans may be discerned. The first, or ancient style, commences
with the earliest notices of the people. It has been confounded with
the Egyptian and the Grecian; but the similarity is not greater
than characterises the infancy of invention among every people. And
though, apart, it might be difficult to discern their national or
original elements, considered in connexion with the style of the
following era, their distinctive character becomes apparent, of an
unfettered imagination, essaying its feeble powers by no systematic,
no conventional representation, arising, as in Egypt, from an impulse
foreign to art; while, from Greek sculpture of the same age, we clearly
distinguish the rudiments of new modes, and certain specialities in
the relations between fancy and feeling with nature. The vigorous
imagination, the bold forms and general tendency to exaggeration, which
may be traced even in its infancy, display in its perfection, during
the second epoch, the peculiar characteristics of Etruscan sculpture.
In the works of this age, there is strength, and massiveness, and
power; but they want delicacy of proportion, discrimination of
character, and graceful simplicity. The third epoch embraces that
period which beheld the gradual disappearance of the Tuscans as an
independent state from the face of Italy. Their political empire
was ingulfed in the extending dominion of Rome: the discriminative
character of their genius merged in the arts of the colonial Greeks;
when, as we have already seen, the schools of Rhegium and Crotona sent
forth masters equal, if not superior, to those of Greece.
These eras, in date and duration, nearly coincide with as many
revolutions in the political history of the nation. Their greatest
extent of territory was held but for a short time, being quickly
reduced on the south by settlements of the Dorian colonies, and on the
north by the Gauls and Ligurians. It was only during their diminished,
but secure and admirably constituted empire in Etruria Proper, that
their national arts flourished, and their national style was formed.
Each of twelve allied, but separately independent capitals, then
became a school of art, the friendly rival of her compeers--each
exciting the industry, and directing the advance, of the other--each
the Athens of ancient Italy. Inflamed by the brutal spirit of mere
conquest, the Romans broke in upon this tranquillity; and though, at
first, science proved more than a match for force, Etruria, with her
free institutions, her elective magistracy, her solemn insignia, fell
beneath their rude despotism.
Thus terminated, 480 years from the building of Rome, the only native
school of art in Italy; and that here sculpture had been cultivated
with no ordinary ardour, is attested by the fact of the Romans having
carried off from Volsinum alone no fewer than two thousand statues.
Even for some time after the subjugation of the Etruscan republics,
sculpture was practised; but it soon lost all national character. The
Roman dominion embracing the circuit of Italy, the Tuscan freeman and
the Greek colonist became alike its vassal; but their common masters
fostered not the arts as native ornaments--as moral causes in their
empire: they possessed merely sufficient knowledge to value the fruits
of genius as the harvest of conquest. The same spirit actuated their
subsequent conduct, when their victorious armies came in successive
contact with the richer treasures of Sicily, and of Greece herself.
Marcellus plundered Syracuse of her marble population, as a proof that
he had subdued her living inhabitants; and, from a still more sordid
motive, in which ignorance and avarice are disgustingly blended,
Mummius first began the work of devastation in Greece. A picture of
Bacchus, which the Corinthians, on account of its super-excellence,
were anxious to regain from the soldiers, who were using it as a table,
is said first to have excited his cupidity. From the vast sum offered,
the Roman general conceived the picture contained gold, which he might
perhaps discover when more at leisure; accordingly he delivered it to
a common messenger, with this sage menace, that he was to carry it
safely to Rome, under pain of being obliged to paint one equally good!
Such was the state of early republican taste, quite in keeping with the
national arts, sufficiently characterised by Tibullus, when he says:
'In paltry temple stood the wooden god.'
Or by the opposition of Cato to the introduction of Greek statuary,
on the plea, that its divine forms would expose to ridicule the rude
fashioning of the Roman deities.
During the latter period of the commonwealth, attempts were
successively made by Sylla, Pompey, and Cæsar, to domiciliate the arts
in Rome. Their efforts, however, reached no farther than collecting
in that capital the sculptors of Greece,--thus doubly unfortunate,
as the place whence were torn the plundered ornaments of temples and
palaces, and as the nurse of that science which, in busts and statues,
was to immortalize the lineaments of her enslavers. The patronage of
Augustus, who could wield for his purposes the energies of the whole
enlightened world, necessarily proved highly advantageous to art, which
he affected to cultivate from patriotic and intellectual, but really
from those still stronger political motives. But of all the sculptors
of the Augustan age whose names have reached us, every one is Greek,
and chiefly Athenian. Pasiteles, Arcesilaus, Zopirus, and Evander, were
the most eminent. The arts, indeed, were revived; but the creative
spirit which infuses life and soul into their productions, which stamps
them with originality and thought, could not be recalled. The character
of design and of execution is evidently the same as that by which the
last era of sculpture in Greece is distinguished, or rather it is
superior; for settled government, ample reward, and certain honor, not
only drew to Rome every man of talent, but also awakened new powers.
But in the finest specimens, there is no evidence of new energies,
added by the union of two separate modifications of talent; nor in
the inferior, any exhibition of the more original, though it might
be ruder, efforts of an aspiring and distinct national taste. Either
or both of these effects would have been apparent, had there been
native, prior to this importation of Greek artists. On the contrary,
everything in the sculpture of this era discovers a descent from a
state of higher excellence; every touch exhibits rather what has been,
than presages the eminence for which we are to draw upon futurity. From
Augustus to Trajan, during a period of 140 years, the principles and
practice of the Greeks continue to be observed, with such difference
only as political causes can easily reconcile, but with a progressive
decay. The most favorable periods during this space were the reigns of
Vespasian, Titus, and Trajan; for the reign of Nero, whose taste, like
his morals, was corrupt, which Pliny has assumed as an epoch in the
Roman school, was propitious to practice, not to improvement.
With the reign of Hadrian, in the seventeenth year of the second
century, is introduced a new style of sculpture, which may properly
be termed Roman. Here the distinguishing characteristic is extreme
minuteness of finish, indicating the labour more of the hand than
the mind. The chisel, the file, the drill, have been plied with
ceaseless care, and great mechanical dexterity. Over the whole genius
and spirit of the art, is now diffused an air of studied and even
affected refinement, which smooths away every characteristic and
natural expression. For the sublime is substituted the difficult, the
florid for the elegant; and in every remaining specimen, we can readily
detect the taste which preferred a poetaster to Homer, or the laboured
inanities of the sophists to the vigorous and manly eloquence of
Demosthenes and Cicero.
The reign of the Antonines forms the last lucid interval in the arts of
the ancient world. The decline of sculpture from thence to the reign of
Constantine would be almost incredibly rapid, were we not enabled to
trace its progress in the monuments that yet remain. Beyond Constantine
it would not be difficult, but it would be useless, to carry our
inquiries. When an imperial master of the world is found pilfering,
from the monument of a virtuous predecessor, a few ornaments to deck
the record of his own triumphs, and which the whole ingenuity of the
Roman world could not supply, the annals of ancient taste may be closed.
Sculpture, it thus appears--and the remark is true of all the arts--was
never cultivated in Rome as a native acquirement, as an integral
element in national history. As political causes, too, the arts
scarcely operated, except merely in connexion with public monuments,
which were treated more as matters of business than of sentiment;
where the successful execution brought no accession of moral dignity
to the artist, and where the modes long formed were adopted with no
change, save that arising from decaying capabilities. Of all the
nations, indeed, who have held supremacy upon the earth, the Romans
show the poorest claims to originality; and have least impressed
the future fortunes of the human mind by any bold peculiarities or
successful darings of her own genius. In letters and in the arts,
they have bequeathed to posterity only modifications of the exquisite
inventions of Greece. In letters, indeed, they have improved upon
their borrowings, because in some instances they have imparted the
stamp of nationality;--not so in the fine arts. Yet even in the
former, the improvement extends only to the manner; the material
remains with little alteration, and no addition. The character of
Roman talent--manly and persevering, though not inventive--seemed well
adapted to succeed in sculpture, laborious in its practice, in its
principles grave and simple. Three causes chiefly opposed this success.
The Romans regarded the art as the peculiar eminence of a conquered
people. Hence they cherished no genuine enthusiasm for its excellences,
and no real respect for its professors--among them the fallen Greeks
or manumitted slaves. Secondly, their national manners were inclined,
while their spirit burned in its best energies, more to action and
business than to elegant accomplishment. As a more particular obstacle,
growing out of this general cause, the desire constantly affected of
being represented in armour, most materially operated against the
improvement of sculpture; and by shutting up the warm and breathing
forms of nature, gave at once origin and inveteracy to the evils of
harshness and incorrectness, in the early school, and in the latter, to
finical and ineffective laboriousness. Thirdly, the superlative beauty
of the finest labours of Greece, scattered with amazing profusion
throughout Italy, rendered their possessors indifferent to contemporary
and so conspicuously inferior works.
To this last circumstance, however, is principally to be ascribed the
only excellence to which Roman sculpture can justly lay claim, as it
proved mainly instrumental in directing attention to that particular
department. The busts of the Roman school, from Julius to Gallienus,
embracing a period of three centuries, exhibit a series invaluable in
the history of art, and in some instances capable of being compared
with the best of similar works of the first ages, without suffering by
the contrast. These do not, indeed, equal in heroic character one or
two remains of Greece, but they exhibit a more powerful representation
of individual mental resemblance. The soul of history absolutely seems
to inhabit and to breathe from the marble. Into every movement of the
countenance is infused an expression so speaking, so characteristic,
so full of individuality, that we seem to have set before us the very
actor in those deeds which have formed our most serious studies.
But this high perfection applies only to the termination of the
commonwealth, or does not extend beyond the reign of Augustus. As we
advance, the impress of grandeur of thought, and energy of purpose,
becomes obscured. This in part is no doubt owing to the decline of
power to represent; but the decay of internal nobleness in the subject
appears to have at least kept pace with the fall of material art; and,
in the words of Pliny, when there were no longer images of mind, the
lineaments of form also degenerated.
From a careful examination of the imperial busts,--for the jealous
fears of these tyrants soon forbade any others to be sculptured--we
derive our best knowledge of the Roman school. The style of design
during the first, or republican age, is distinguished by squareness
and vigour in the forms--decision of arrangement--boldness and firmness
in pronouncing the parts, accompanied with truth and great force
of general effect, but destitute of minuteness and accuracy in the
details. The mastery of touch, indeed, is frequently so daring, as to
be redeemed from the imputation of careless and unfinished only by the
vigorous meaning of every stroke. We detect the greatest deficiency
in those passing lines of thought and form, where little meets the
outward sense, but in which the science and feeling of the artists are
most surely displayed and most severely tried; the expression of the
eyes are studied, and the eye-ball, with intent to produce an imposing
look, is made larger than in nature. The hair, though skilfully
massed, and fine in distant effect, is particularly heavy; indeed,
the characteristic defect is harshness--an absence of those sweet and
flowing lines which bring the contour fully, but graciously, upon the
view. To the close of the first century, bold and facile execution,
and force of effect, continue to take the place of simple and accurate
design and natural expression--faults most conspicuous in the most
prosperous time, the reigns of Titus and Trajan, from the art being
exercised chiefly on architectural designs. In addition to the dry, the
hard, and laboured, the era of Hadrian is further distinguished by the
pupil of the eye having a deeply drilled orifice, and by the separate
parts of the countenance being marked with an affected and unnatural
depth. The busts of Aurelius are the last good examples. Under Severus
appears a singular affectation of marking the forehead, and even the
whole countenance, with furrows. Subsequently every reign displays more
decided retrogression, and the final disappearance of every redeeming
excellence.