28. Beginning with the simple conception of sculpture as the art of

fiction in solid substance, we are now to consider what its subject

should be. What--having the gift of imagery--should we by preference

endeavor to image? A question which is, indeed, subordinate to the

deeper one--why we should wish to image anything at all.

29. Some years ago, having been always desirous that the education of

women should begin in learning how to cook, I got leave, one day, for a

little girl of eleven years old to exchange, much to her satisfaction,

her schoolroom for the kitchen. But as ill-fortune would have it, there

was some pastry toward, and she was left unadvisedly in command of some

delicately rolled paste; whereof she made no pies, but an unlimited

quantity of cats and mice.

Now you may read the works of the gravest critics of art from end to

end; but you will find, at last, they can give you no other true account

of the spirit of sculpture than that it is an irresistible human

instinct for the making of cats and mice, and other imitable living

creatures, in such permanent form that one may play with the images at

leisure.

Play with them, or love them, or fear them, or worship them. The cat may

become the goddess Pasht, and the mouse, in the hand of a sculptured

king, enforce his enduring words "[Greek: es eme tis horeon eusebes

esto]"; but the great mimetic instinct underlies all such purpose; and

is zooplastic,--life-shaping,--alike in the reverent and the impious.

30. Is, I say, and has been, hitherto; none of us dare say that it will

be. I shall have to show you hereafter that the greater part of the

technic energy of men, as yet, has indicated a kind of childhood; and

that the race becomes, if not more wise, at least more manly,[11] with

every gained century. I can fancy that all this sculpturing and painting

of ours may be looked back upon, in some distant time, as a kind of

doll-making, and that the words of Sir Isaac Newton may be smiled at no

more: only it will not be for stars that we desert our stone dolls, but

for men. When the day comes, as come it must, in which we no more deface

and defile God's image in living clay, I am not sure that we shall any

of us care so much for the images made of Him, in burnt clay.

31. But, hitherto, the energy of growth in any people may be almost

directly measured by their passion for imitative art; namely, for

sculpture, or for the drama, which is living and speaking sculpture, or,

as in Greece, for both; and in national as in actual childhood, it is

not merely the _making_, but the _making-believe_; not merely the acting

for the sake of the scene, but acting for the sake of acting, that is

delightful. And, of the two mimetic arts, the drama, being more

passionate, and involving conditions of greater excitement and luxury,

is usually in its excellence the sign of culminating strength in the

people; while fine sculpture, requiring always submission to severe law,

is an unfailing proof of their being in early and active progress.

_There is no instance of fine sculpture being produced by a nation

either torpid, weak, or in decadence._ Their drama may gain in grace and

wit; but their sculpture, in days of decline, is _always_ base.

32. If my little lady in the kitchen had been put in command of colors,

as well as of dough, and if the paste would have taken the colors, we

may be sure her mice would have been painted brown, and her cats

tortoiseshell; and this, partly indeed for the added delight and

prettiness of color itself, but more for the sake of absolute

realization to her eyes and mind. Now all the early sculpture of the

most accomplished nations has been thus colored, rudely or finely; and

therefore you see at once how necessary it is that we should keep the

term 'graphic' for imitative art generally; since no separation can at

first be made between carving and painting, with reference to the mental

powers exerted in, or addressed by, them. In the earliest known art of

the world, a reindeer hunt may be scratched in outline on the flat side

of a clean-picked bone, and a reindeer's head carved out of the end of

it; both these are flint-knife work, and, strictly speaking, sculpture:

but the scratched outline is the beginning of drawing, and the carved

head of sculpture proper. When the spaces inclosed by the scratched

outline are filled with color, the coloring soon becomes a principal

means of effect; so that, in the engraving of an Egyptian-color

bas-relief (S. 101), Rosellini has been content to miss the outlining

incisions altogether, and represent it as a painting only. Its proper

definition is, 'painting accented by sculpture;' on the other hand, in

solid colored statues,--Dresden china figures, for example,--we have

pretty sculpture accented by painting; the mental purpose in both kinds

of art being to obtain the utmost degree of realization possible, and

the ocular impression being the same, whether the delineation is

obtained by engraving or painting. For, as I pointed out to you in my

Fifth Lecture, everything is seen by the eye as patches of color, and of

color only;--a fact which the Greeks knew well; so that when it becomes

a question in the dialogue of Minos, "[Greek: tini onti te opsei horatai

ta horomena]," the answer is "[Greek: aisthesei taute te dia ton

ophthalmon delouse hemin ta chromata]."--"What kind of power is the

sight with which we see things? It is that sense which, through the

eyes, can reveal _colors_ to us."

33. And now observe that, while the graphic arts begin in the mere

mimetic effort, they proceed, as they obtain more perfect realization,

to act under the influence of a stronger and higher instinct. They begin

by scratching the reindeer, the most interesting object of sight. But

presently, as the human creature rises in scale of intellect, it

proceeds to scratch, not the most interesting object of sight only, but

the most interesting object of imagination; not the reindeer, but the

Maker and Giver of the reindeer. And the second great condition for the

advance of the art of sculpture is that the race should possess, in

addition to the mimetic instinct, the realistic or idolizing instinct;

the desire to see as substantial the powers that are unseen, and bring

near those that are far off, and to possess and cherish those that are

strange. To make in some way tangible and visible the nature of the

gods--to illustrate and explain it by symbols; to bring the immortals

out of the recesses of the clouds, and make them Penates; to bring back

the dead from darkness, and make them Lares.

34. Our conception of this tremendous and universal human passion has

been altogether narrowed by the current idea that Pagan religious art

consisted only, or chiefly, in giving personality to the gods. The

personality was never doubted; it was visibility, interpretation, and

possession that the hearts of men sought. Possession, first of all--the

getting hold of some hewn log of wild olive-wood that would fall on its

knees if it was pulled from its pedestal--and, afterwards, slowly

clearing manifestation; the exactly right expression is used in Lucian's

dream,--[Greek: Pheidias edeixe ton Dia]; "Showed[12] Zeus;" manifested

him; nay, in a certain sense, brought forth, or created, as you have it,

in Anacreon's ode to the Rose, of the birth of Athena herself,--

[Greek: polemoklonon t' Athenen

koryphes edeiknye Zeus.]

But I will translate the passage from Lucian to you at length--it is in

every way profitable.

35. "There came to me, in the healing[13] night, a divine dream, so

clear that it missed nothing of the truth itself; yes, and still after

all this time, the shapes of what I saw remain in my sight, and the

sound of what I heard dwells in my ears"--(note the lovely sense of

[Greek: enaulos]--the sound being as of a stream passing always by in

the same channel)--"so distinct was everything to me. Two women laid

hold of my hands and pulled me, each towards herself, so violently, that

I had like to have been pulled asunder; and they cried out against one

another,--the one, that she resolved to have me to herself, being indeed

her own; and the other, that it was vain for her to claim what belonged

to others;--and the one who first claimed me for her own was like a hard

worker, and had strength as a man's; and her hair was dusty, and her

hand full of horny places, and her dress fastened tight about her, and

the folds of it loaded with white marble-dust, so that she looked just

as my uncle used to look when he was filing stones: but the other was

pleasant in features, and delicate in form, and orderly in her dress;

and so, in the end, they left it to me to decide, after hearing what

they had to say, with which of them I would go; and first the

hard-featured and masculine one spoke:--

36. "'Dear child, I am the Art of Image-sculpture, which yesterday you

began to learn; and I am as one of your own people, and of your house,

for your grandfather' (and she named my mother's father) 'was a

stone-cutter; and both your uncles had good name through me: and if you

will keep yourself well clear of the sillinesses and fluent follies that

come from this creature,' (and she pointed to the other woman,) 'and

will follow me, and live with me, first of all, you shall be brought up

as a man should be, and have strong shoulders; and, besides that, you

shall be kept well quit of all restless desires, and you shall never be

obliged to go away into any foreign places, leaving your own country and

the people of your house; _neither shall all men praise you for your

talk_.[14] And you must not despise this rude serviceableness of my

body, neither this meanness of my dusty dress; for, pushing on in their

strength from such things as these, that great Phidias revealed Zeus,

and Polyclitus wrought out Hera, and Myron was praised, and Praxiteles

marveled at: therefore are these men worshiped with the gods.'"

37. There is a beautiful ambiguity in the use of the preposition with

the genitive in this last sentence. "Pushing on from these things" means

indeed, justly, that the sculptors rose from a mean state to a noble

one; but not as _leaving_ the mean state,--not as, from a hard life,

attaining to a soft one,--but as being helped and strengthened by the

rough life to do what was greatest. Again, "worshiped with the gods"

does not mean that they are thought of as in any sense equal to, or like

to, the gods, but as being on the side of the gods against what is base

and ungodly; and that the kind of worth which is in them is therefore

indeed worshipful, as having its source with the gods. Finally, observe

that every one of the expressions used of the four sculptors is

definitely the best that Lucian could have chosen. Phidias carved like

one who had seen Zeus, and had only to _reveal_ him; Polyclitus, in

labor of intellect, completed his sculpture by just law, and _wrought_

out Hera; Myron was of all most _praised_, because he did best what

pleased the vulgar; and Praxiteles the most _wondered at_, or admired,

because he bestowed utmost exquisiteness of beauty.

38. I am sorry not to go on with the dream: the more refined lady, as

you may remember, is liberal or gentlemanly Education, and prevails at

last; so that Lucian becomes an author instead of a sculptor, I think to

his own regret, though to our present benefit. One more passage of his I

must refer you to, as illustrative of the point before us; the

description of the temple of the Syrian Hieropolis, where he explains

the absence of the images of the sun and moon. "In the temple itself,"

he says, "on the left hand as one goes in, there is set first the

throne of the sun; but no form of him is thereon, for of these two

powers alone, the sun and the moon, they show no carved images. And I

also learned why this is their law, for they say that it is permissible,

indeed, to make of the other gods, graven images, since the forms of

them are not visible to all men. But Helios and Selenaia are everywhere

clear-bright, and all men behold them; what need is there therefore for

sculptured work of these, who appear in the air?"

39. This, then, is the second instinct necessary to sculpture; the

desire for the manifestation, description, and companionship of unknown

powers; and for possession of a bodily substance--the 'bronze

Strasbourg,' which you can embrace, and hang immortelles on the head

of--instead of an abstract idea. But if you get nothing more in the

depth of the national mind than these two feelings, the mimetic and

idolizing instincts, there may be still no progress possible for the

arts except in delicacy of manipulation and accumulative caprice of

design. You must have not only the idolizing instinct, but an [Greek:

ethos] which chooses the right thing to idolize! Else, you will get

states of art like those in China or India, non-progressive, and in

great part diseased and frightful, being wrought under the influence of

foolish terror, or foolish admiration. So that a third condition,

completing and confirming both the others, must exist in order to the

development of the creative power.

40. This third condition is that the heart of the nation shall be set on

the discovery of just or equal law, and shall be from day to day

developing that law more perfectly. The Greek school of sculpture is

formed during, and in consequence of, the national effort to discover

the nature of justice; the Tuscan, during, and in consequence of, the

national effort to discover the nature of justification. I assert to you

at present briefly, what will, I hope, be the subject of prolonged

illustration hereafter.

41. Now when a nation with mimetic instinct and imaginative longing is

also thus occupied earnestly in the discovery of Ethic law, that effort

gradually brings precision and truth into all its manual acts; and the

physical progress of sculpture, as in the Greek, so in the Tuscan,

school, consists in gradually _limiting_ what was before indefinite, in

_verifying_ what was inaccurate, and in _humanizing_ what was monstrous.

I might perhaps content you by showing these external phenomena, and by

dwelling simply on the increasing desire of naturalness, which compels,

in every successive decade of years, literally, in the sculptured

images, the mimicked bones to come together, bone to his bone; and the

flesh to come up upon them, until from a flattened and pinched handful

of clay, respecting which you may gravely question whether it was

intended for a human form at all;--by slow degrees, and added touch to

touch, in increasing consciousness of the bodily truth,--at last the

Aphrodite of Melos stands before you, a perfect woman. But all that

search for physical accuracy is merely the external operation, in the

arts, of the seeking for truth in the inner soul; it is impossible

without that higher effort, and the demonstration of it would be worse

than useless to you, unless I made you aware at the same time of its

spiritual cause.

42. Observe farther; the increasing truth in representation is

correlative with increasing beauty in the thing to be represented. The

pursuit of justice which regulates the imitative effort, regulates also

the development of the race into dignity of person, as of mind; and

their culminating art-skill attains the grasp of entire truth at the

moment when the truth becomes most lovely. And then, ideal sculpture may

go on safely into portraiture. But I shall not touch on the subject of

portrait sculpture to-day; it introduces many questions of detail, and

must be a matter for subsequent consideration.

43. These, then, are the three great passions which are concerned in

true sculpture. I cannot find better, or, at least, more easily

remembered, names for them than 'the Instincts of Mimicry, Idolatry, and

Discipline;' meaning, by the last, the desire of equity and wholesome

restraint, in all acts and works of life. Now of these, there is no

question but that the love of Mimicry is natural and right, and the love

of Discipline is natural and right. But it looks a grave question

whether the yearning for Idolatry (the desire of companionship with

images) is right. Whether, indeed, if such an instinct be essential to

good sculpture, the art founded on it can possibly be 'fine' art.

44. I must now beg for your close attention, because I have to point out

distinctions in modes of conception which will appear trivial to you,

unless accurately understood; but of an importance in the history of art

which cannot be overrated.

When the populace of Paris adorned the statue of Strasbourg with

immortelles, none, even the simplest of the pious decorators, would

suppose that the city of Strasbourg itself, or any spirit or ghost of

the city, was actually there, sitting in the Place de la Concorde. The

figure was delightful to them as a visible nucleus for their fond

thoughts about Strasbourg; but never for a moment supposed to _be_

Strasbourg.

Similarly, they might have taken delight in a statue purporting to

represent a river instead of a city,--the Rhine, or Garonne,

suppose,--and have been touched with strong emotion in looking at it, if

the real river were dear to them, and yet never think for an instant

that the statue _was_ the river.

And yet again, similarly, but much more distinctly, they might take

delight in the beautiful image of a god, because it gathered and

perpetuated their thoughts about that god; and yet never suppose, nor be

capable of being deceived by any arguments into supposing, that the

statue _was_ the god.

On the other hand, if a meteoric stone fell from the sky in the sight of

a savage, and he picked it up hot, he would most probably lay it aside

in some, to him, sacred place, and believe the _stone itself_ to be a

kind of god, and offer prayer and sacrifice to it.

In like manner, any other strange or terrifying object, such, for

instance, as a powerfully noxious animal or plant, he would be apt to

regard in the same way; and very possibly also construct for himself

frightful idols of some kind, calculated to produce upon him a vague

impression of their being alive; whose imaginary anger he might

deprecate or avert with sacrifice, although incapable of conceiving in

them any one attribute of exalted intellectual or moral nature.

45. If you will now refer to Sec.Sec. 52-9 of my Introductory Lectures, you

will find this distinction between a resolute conception, recognized for

such, and an involuntary apprehension of spiritual existence, already

insisted on at some length. And you will see more and more clearly as we

proceed, that the deliberate and intellectually commanded conception is

not idolatrous in any evil sense whatever, but is one of the grandest

and wholesomest functions of the human soul; and that the essence of

evil idolatry begins only in the idea or belief of a real presence of

any kind, in a thing in which there is no such presence.

46. I need not say that the harm of the idolatry must depend on the

certainty of the negative. If there be a real presence in a pillar of

cloud, in an unconsuming flame, or in a still small voice, it is no sin

to bow down before these.

But, as matter of historical fact, the idea of such presence has

generally been both ignoble and false, and confined to nations of

inferior race, who are often condemned to remain for ages in conditions

of vile terror, destitute of thought. Nearly all Indian architecture and

Chinese design arise out of such a state: so also, though in a less

gross degree, Ninevite and Phoenician art, early Irish, and

Scandinavian; the latter, however, with vital elements of high intellect

mingled in it from the first.

But the greatest races are never grossly subject to such terror, even in

their childhood, and the course of their minds is broadly divisible into

three distinct stages.

47. (I.) In their infancy they begin to imitate the real animals about

them, as my little girl made the cats and mice, but with an

under-current of partial superstition--a sense that there must be more

in the creatures than they can see; also they catch up vividly any of

the fancies of the baser nations round them, and repeat these more or

less apishly, yet rapidly naturalizing and beautifying them. They then

connect all kinds of shapes together, compounding meanings out of the

old chimeras, and inventing new ones with the speed of a running

wildfire; but always getting more of man into their images, and

admitting less of monster or brute; their own characters, meanwhile,

expanding and purging themselves, and shaking off the feverish fancy, as

springing flowers shake the earth off their stalks.

48. (II.) In the second stage, being now themselves perfect men and

women, they reach the conception of true and great gods as existent in

the universe; and absolutely cease to think of them as in any wise

present in statues or images; but they have now learned to make these

statues beautifully human, and to surround them with attributes that may

concentrate their thoughts of the gods. This is, in Greece, accurately

the Pindaric time, just a little preceding the Phidian; the Phidian is

already dimmed with a faint shadow of infidelity; still, the Olympic

Zeus may be taken as a sufficiently central type of a statue which was

no more supposed to _be_ Zeus, than the gold or elephants' tusks it was

made of; but in which the most splendid powers of human art were

exhausted in representing a believed and honored God to the happy and

holy imagination of a sincerely religious people.

49. (III.) The third stage of national existence follows, in which, the

imagination having now done its utmost, and being partly restrained by

the sanctities of tradition, which permit no farther change in the

conceptions previously created, begins to be superseded by logical

deduction and scientific investigation. At the same moment, the elder

artists having done all that is possible in realizing the national

conceptions of the gods, the younger ones, forbidden to change the

scheme of existing representations, and incapable of doing anything

better in that kind, betake themselves to refine and decorate the old

ideas with more attractive skill. Their aims are thus more and more

limited to manual dexterity, and their fancy paralyzed. Also in the

course of centuries, the methods of every art continually improving, and

being made subjects of popular inquiry, praise is now to be got, for

eminence in these, from the whole mob of the nation; whereas

intellectual design can never be discerned but by the few. So that in

this third era we find every kind of imitative and vulgar dexterity more

and more cultivated; while design and imagination are every day less

cared for, and less possible.

Aratra Pentelici, Seven Lectures on the Elements of Sculpture Given before the University of Oxford in Michaelmas Term, 1870 · 第 2 / 13 段