number (“An Evening’s Gossip with a Painter”[23]); but there is one
circumstance with respect to the works of Turner which yet further
limits the number of their admirers. They are not prosaic statements of
the phenomena of nature--they are statements of them under the influence
of ardent feeling; they are, in a word, the most fervent and real poetry
which the English nation is at present producing. Now not only is this
proverbially an age in which poetry is little cared for; but even with
those who have most love of it, and most need of it, it requires,
especially if high and philosophical, an attuned, quiet, and exalted
frame of mind for its enjoyment; and if dragged into the midst of the
noisy interests of every-day life, may easily be made ridiculous or
offensive. Wordsworth recited, by Mr. Wakley, in the House of Commons,
in the middle of a financial debate, would sound, in all probability,
very like Mr. Wakley’s[24] own verses. Wordsworth, read in the stillness
of a mountain hollow, has the force of the mountain waters. What would
be the effect of a passage of Milton recited in the middle of a
pantomime, or of a dreamy stanza of Shelley upon the Stock Exchange? Are
we to judge of the nightingale by hearing it sing in broad daylight in
Cheapside? For just such a judgment do we form of Turner by standing
before his pictures in the Royal Academy. It is a strange thing that the
public never seem to suspect that there may be a poetry in painting, to
meet which, some preparation of sympathy, some harmony of circumstance,
is required; and that it is just as impossible to see half a dozen great
pictures as to read half a dozen great poems at the same time, if their
tendencies or their tones of feeling be contrary or discordant. Let us
imagine what would be the effect on the mind of any man of feeling, to
whom an eager friend, desirous of impressing upon him the merit of
different poets, should read successively, and without a pause, the
following passages, in which lie something of the prevailing character
of the works of six of our greatest modern artists:
LANDSEER.
“His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs,
Show’d he was nane o’ Scotland’s dougs,
But whalpit some place far abroad
Whar sailors gang to fish for cod.”[25]
MARTIN.
“Far in the horizon to the north appear’d,
From skirt to skirt, a fiery region, stretched
In battailous aspéct, and nearer view
Bristled with upright beams innumerable
Of rigid spears, and helmets throng’d, and shields
Various, with boastful argument portray’d.”
WILKIE.
“The risin’ moon began to glowr
The distant Cumnock hills out owre;
To count her horns, wi’ a’ my pow’r,
I set mysel’;
But whether she had three or fowr,
I couldna tell.”
EASTLAKE.
“And thou, who tell’st me to forget,
Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.”
STANFIELD.
“Ye mariners of England,
Who guard our native seas,
Whose flag has braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze.”
TURNER.
“The point of one white star is quivering still,
Deep in the orange light of widening dawn,
Beyond the purple mountains. Through a chasm
Of wind-divided mist the darker lake
Reflects it, now it fades: it gleams again,
As the waves fall, and as the burning threads
Of woven cloud unravel in pale air,
’Tis lost! and through yon peaks of cloudlike snow
The roseate sunlight quivers.”
Precisely to such advantage as the above passages, so placed,[26]
appear, are the works of any painter of mind seen in the Academy. None
suffer more than Turner’s, which are not only interfered with by the
prosaic pictures around them, but neutralize each other. Two works of
his, side by side, destroy each other to a dead certainty, for each is
so vast, so complete, so demandant of every power, so sufficient for
every desire of the mind, that it is utterly impossible for two to be
comprehended together. Each must have the undivided intellect, and each
is destroyed by the attraction of the other; and it is the chief power
and might of these pictures, that they are works for the closet and the
heart--works to be dwelt upon separately and devotedly, and then chiefly
when the mind is in its highest tone, and desirous of a beauty which may
be food for its immortality. It is the very stamp and essence of the
purest poetry, that it can only be so met and understood; and that the
clash of common interests, and the roar of the selfish world, must be
hushed about the heart, before it can hear the still, small voice,
wherein rests the power communicated from the Holiest.[27]
Can, then, will be, if I mistake not, the final inquiry of your
correspondent,--can, then, we ordinary mortals,--can I, who am not Sir
Augustus Callcott, nor Sir Francis Chantrey, ever derive any pleasure
from works of this lofty character? Heaven forbid, we reply, that it
should be otherwise. _Nothing_ more is necessary for the appreciation of
them, than that which is necessary for the appreciation of any great
writer--the quiet study of him with an humble heart. There are, indeed,
technical qualities, difficulties overcome and principles developed,
which are reserved for the enjoyment of the artist; but these do not add
to the influence of the picture. On the contrary, we must break through
its charm, before we can comprehend its means, and “murder to dissect.”
The picture is intended, not for artists alone, but for all who love
what it portrays; and so little doubt have we of the capacity of all to
understand the works in question, that we have the most confident
expectation, within the next fifty years, of seeing the name of Turner
placed on the same impregnable height with that of Shakespeare.[29] Both
have committed errors of taste and judgment. In both it is, or will be,
heresy even to feel those errors, so entirely are they overbalanced by
the gigantic powers of whose impetuosity they are the result. So soon as
the public are convinced, by the maintained testimony of high authority,
that Turner is worth understanding, they will try to understand him; and
if they try, they can. Nor are they, now, as is commonly thought,
despised or defied by him. He has too much respect for them to endeavor
to please them by falsehood. He will not win for himself a hearing by
the betrayal of his message.
Finally, then, we would recommend your correspondent, first, to divest
herself of every atom of lingering respect or regard for the common
criticism of the press, and to hold fast by the authority of Callcott,
Chantrey, Landseer, and Stanfield; and this, not because we would have
her _slavishly_ subject to any authority but that of her own eyes and
reason, but because we would not have her blown about with every wind of
doctrine, before she has convinced her reason or learned to use her
eyes. And if she can draw at all, let her make careful studies of any
natural objects that may happen to come in her way,--sticks, leaves, or
stones,--and of distant atmospheric effects on groups of objects; not
for the sake of the drawing itself, but for the sake of the powers of
attention and accurate observation which thus only can be cultivated.
And let her make the study, not thinking of this artist or of that; not
conjecturing what Harding would have done, or Stanfield, or Callcott,
with her subject; not trying to draw in a bold style, or a free style,
or any other style; but drawing _all_ she _sees_, as far as may be in
her power, earnestly, faithfully, unselectingly; and, which is perhaps
the more difficult task of the two, _not_ drawing what she does _not_
see. Oh, if people did but know how many lines nature _suggests_ without
_showing_, what different art should we have! And let her never be
discouraged by ill success. She will seldom have gained more knowledge
than when she most feels her failure. Let her use every opportunity of
examining the works of Turner; let her try to copy them, then try to
copy some one else’s, and observe which presents most of that kind of
difficulty which she found in copying nature. Let her, if possible,
extend her acquaintance with wild natural scenery of every kind and
character, endeavoring in each species of scenery to distinguish those
features which are expressive and harmonious from those which are
unaffecting or incongruous; and after a year or two of such discipline
as this, let her judge for herself. No authority need then, or can then,
be very influential with her. Her own pleasure in works of true
greatness[30] will be too real, too instinctive, to be persuaded or
laughed out of her. We bid her, therefore, heartily good-speed, with
this final warning: Let her beware, in going to nature, of taking with
her the commonplace dogmas or dicta of art. Let her not look for what is
like Titian or like Claude, for composed form or arranged chiaroscuro;
but believe that everything which God has made is beautiful, and that
everything which nature teaches is true. Let her beware, above
everything, of that wicked pride which makes man think he can dignify
God’s glorious creations, or exalt the majesty of his universe. Let her
be humble, we repeat, and earnest Truth was never sealed, if so sought.
And once more we bid her good-speed in the words of our poet-moralist:
“Enough of Science and of Art:
Seal up these barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches, and receives.”[31]
I have the honor to be, Sir,
Your obedient humble servant,
THE AUTHOR OF “MODERN PAINTERS.”
[From “Some Account of the Origin and Objects of the New Oxford
Examinations for the Title of Associate in Arts and Certificates,”
by T. D. Acland, late Fellow of All Souls’ College, Oxford,[32]
1858, pp. 54-60.]
_THE ARTS AS A BRANCH OF EDUCATION._
PENRITH, Sept. 25, 1857.
MY DEAR SIR: I have just received your most interesting letter, and will
try to answer as shortly as I can, saying nothing of what I feel, and
what you must well know I should feel, respecting the difficulty of the
questions and their importance; except only this, that I should not have
had the boldness to answer your letter by return of post, unless, in
consequence of conversations on this subject with Mr. Acland and Dr.
Acland, two months ago, I had been lately thinking of it more than of
any other.[33]
Your questions fall under two heads: (1) The range which an art
examination can take; (2) The connection in which it should be placed
with other examinations.
I think the art examination should have three objects:
(1) To put the happiness and knowledge which the study of art conveys
within the conception of the youth, so that he may in after-life pursue
them, if he has the gift.
(2) To enforce, as far as possible, such knowledge of art among those
who are likely to become its patrons, or the guardian of its works, as
may enable them, usefully to fulfil those duties.
(3) To distinguish pre-eminent gift for the production of works of art,
so as to get hold of all the good artistical faculty born in the
country, and leave no Giotto lost among hill-shepherds.[34]
In order to accomplish the first object, I think that, according to Mr.
Acland’s proposal, preliminary knowledge of drawing and music should be
asked for, in connection with writing and arithmetic; but not, in the
preliminary examination, made to count towards distinction in other
schools. I think drawing is a necessary means of the expression of
certain facts of form and means of acquaintance with them, as arithmetic
is the means of acquaintance with facts of number. I think the facts
which an elementary knowledge of drawing enables a man to observe and
note are often of as much importance to him as those which he can
describe in words or calculate in numbers. And I think the cases in
which mental deficiency would prevent the acquirement of a serviceable
power of drawing would be found as rare as those in which no progress
could be made in arithmetic. I would not desire this elementary
knowledge to extend far, but the limits which I would propose are not
here in question. While I feel the force of all the admirable
observations of Mr. Hullah on the use of the study of music, I imagine
that the cases of physical incapacity of distinguishing sounds would be
too frequent to admit of musical knowledge being made a _requirement_; I
would _ask_ for it, in Mr. Acland’s sense; but the drawing might, I
think, be required, as arithmetic would be.
2. To accomplish the second object is the main difficulty. Touching
which I venture positively to state:
First. That sound criticism of art is impossible to young men, for it
consists principally, and in a far more exclusive sense than has yet
been felt, in the recognition of the facts represented by the art. A
great artist represents many and abstruse facts; it is necessary, in
order to judge of his works, that all those facts should be
experimentally (not by hearsay) known to the observer; whose recognition
of them constitutes his approving judgment. A young man _cannot_ know
them.
Criticism of art by young men must, therefore, consist either in the
more or less apt retailing and application of received opinions, or in a
more or less immediate and dextrous use of the knowledge they already
possess, so as to be able to assert of given works of art that they are
true up to a certain point; the probability being then that they are
true farther than the young man sees.
The first kind of criticism is, in general, useless, if not harmful; the
second is that which the youths will employ who are capable of becoming
critics in after years.
Secondly. All criticism of art, at whatever period of life, must be
partial; warped more or less by the feelings of the person endeavoring
to judge. Certain merits of art (as energy, for instance) are pleasant
only to certain temperaments; and certain tendencies of art (as, for
instance, to religious sentiment) can only be sympathized with by one
order of minds. It is almost impossible to conceive of any mode of
examination which would set the students on anything like equitable
footing in such respects; but their sensibility to art may be generally
tested.
Thirdly. The history of art, or the study, in your accurate words,
“_about_ the subject,” is in no wise directly connected with the studies
which promote or detect art-capacity or art-judgment. It is quite
possible to acquire the most extensive and useful knowledge of the forms
of art existing in different ages, and among different nations, without
thereby acquiring any power whatsoever of determining respecting any of
them (much less respecting a modern work of art) whether it is good or
bad.
These three facts being so, we had perhaps best consider, first, what
direction the art studies of the youth should take, as that will at once
regulate the mode of examination.
First. He should be encouraged to carry forward the practical power of
drawing he has acquired in the elementary school. This should be done
chiefly by using that power as a help in other work: precision of touch
should be cultivated by map-drawing in his geography class; taste in
form by flower-drawing in the botanical schools; and bone and limb
drawing in the physiological schools. His art, kept thus to practical
service, will always be right as far as it goes; there will be no
affectation or shallowness in it. The work of the drawing-master would
be at first little more than the exhibition of the best means and
enforcement of the most perfect results in the collateral studies of
form.
Secondly. His critical power should be developed by the presence around
him of the best models, _into the excellence of which his knowledge
permits him to enter_. He should be encouraged, above all things, to
form and express judgment of his own; not as if his judgment were of any
importance as related to the excellence of the thing, but that both his
master and he may know precisely in what state his mind is. He should be
told of an Albert Dürer engraving, “That _is_ good, whether you like it
or not; but be sure to determine _whether_ you do or do not, and why.”
All formal expressions of reasons for opinion, such as a boy could catch
up and repeat, should be withheld like poison; and all models which are
too good for him should be kept out of his way. Contemplation of works
of art without understanding them jades the faculties and enslaves the
intelligence. A Rembrandt etching is a better example to a boy than a
finished Titian, and a cast from a leaf than one of the Elgin marbles.
Thirdly. I would no more involve the art-schools in the study of the
history of art than surgical schools in that of the history of surgery.
But a general idea of the influence of art on the human mind ought to be
given by the study of history in the historical schools; the effect of a
picture, and power of a painter, being examined just as carefully (in
relation to its extent) as the effect of a battle and the power of a
general. History, in its full sense, involves subordinate knowledge of
all that influences the acts of mankind; it has hardly yet been written
at all, owing to the want of such subordinate knowledge in the
historians; it has been confined either to the relation of events by
eye-witnesses (the only valuable form of it), or the more or less
ingenious collation of such-relations. And it is especially desirable
to give history a more archæological range at this period, so that the
class of manufactures produced by a city at a given date should be made
of more importance in the student’s mind than the humors of the factions
that governed, or details of the accidents that preserved it, because
every day renders the destruction of historical memorials more complete
in Europe owing to the total want of interest in them felt by its upper
and middle classes.
Fourthly. Where the faculty for art was special, it ought to be carried
forward to the study of design, first in practical application to
manufacture, then in higher branches of composition. The general
principles of the application of art to manufacture should be explained
in all cases, whether of special or limited faculty. Under this head we
may at once get rid of the third question stated in the first page--how
to detect special gift. The power of drawing from a given form
accurately would not be enough to prove this: the additional power of
design, with that of eye for color, which could be tested in the class
concerned with manufacture, would justify the master in advising and
encouraging the youth to undertake special pursuit of art as an object
of life.
It seems easy, on the supposition of such a course of study, to conceive
a mode of examination which would test relative excellence. I cannot
suggest the kind of questions which ought to be put to the class
occupied with sculpture; but in my own business of painting, I should
put, in general, such tasks and questions as these:
(1) “Sketch such and such an object” (given a difficult one, as a bird,
complicated piece of drapery, or foliage) “as completely as you can in
light and shade in half an hour.”
(2) “Finish such and such a portion of it” (given a very small portion)
“as perfectly as you can, irrespective of time.”
(3) “Sketch it in color in half an hour.”
(4) “Design an ornament for a given place and purpose.”
(5) “Sketch a picture of a given historical event in pen and ink.”
(6) “Sketch it in colors.”
(7) “Name the picture you were most interested in in the Royal Academy
Exhibition of this year. State in writing what you suppose to be its
principal merits--faults--the reasons of the _interest_ you took in it.”
I think it is only the fourth of these questions which would admit of
much change; and the seventh, in the name of the exhibition; the
question being asked, without previous knowledge by the students,
respecting some _one_ of four or five given exhibitions which should be
visited before the Examination.
This being my general notion of what an Art-Examination should be, the
second great question remains of the division of schools and connection
of studies.
Now I have not yet considered--I have not, indeed, knowledge enough to
enable me to consider--what the practical convenience or results of
given arrangements would be. But the logical and harmonious arrangement
is surely a simple one; and it seems to me as if it would not be
inconvenient, namely (requiring elementary drawing with arithmetic in
the preliminary Examination), that there should then be three advanced
schools:
A. The School of Literature (occupied chiefly in the study of human
emotion and history).
B. The School of Science (occupied chiefly in the study of external
facts and existences of constant kind).
C. The School of Art (occupied in the development of active and
productive human faculties).
In the school A, I would include Composition in all languages, Poetry,
History, Archæology, Ethics.
In the school B, Mathematics, Political Economy, the Physical Sciences
(including Geography and Medicine).
In the school C, Painting, Sculpture, including Architecture,
Agriculture, Manufacture, War, Music, Bodily Exercises (Navigation in
seaport schools), including laws of health.
I should require, for a first class, proficiency in two schools; not, of
course, in all the subjects of each chosen school, but in a well-chosen
and combined group of them. Thus, I should call a very good first-class
man one who had got some such range of subjects, and such proficiency in
each, as this:
English, Greek, and Mediæval-Italian Literature High.
English and French History, and Archæology Average.
Conic Sections Thorough, as far as learnt.
Political Economy Thorough, as far as learnt.
Botany, _or_ Chemistry, _or_ Physiology High.
Painting Average.
Music Average.
Bodily Exercises High.
I have written you a sadly long letter, but I could not manage to get it
shorter.
Believe me, my dear Sir,
Very faithfully and respectfully yours,
J. RUSKIN.
REV. F. TEMPLE.
Perhaps I had better add what to you, but not to every one who considers
such a scheme of education, would be palpable--that the main value of it
would be brought out by judicious involution of its studies. This, for
instance, would be the kind of Examination Paper I should hope for in
the Botanical Class:
1. State the habit of such and such a plant.
2. Sketch its leaf, and a portion of its ramifications (memory).
3. Explain the mathematical laws of its growth and structure.
4. Give the composition of its juices in different seasons.
5. Its uses? Its relations to other families of plants, and conceivable
uses beyond those known?
6. Its commercial value in London? Mode of cultivation?
7. Its mythological meaning? The commonest or most beautiful fables
respecting it?
8. Quote any important references to it by great poets.
9. Time of its introduction.
10. Describe its consequent influence on civilization.
Of all these ten questions, there is not one which does not test the
student in other studies than botany. Thus, 1, Geography; 2, Drawing; 3,
Mathematics; 4, 5, Chemistry; 6, Political Economy; 7, 8, 9, 10,
Literature.
Of course the plants required to be thus studied could be but few, and
would rationally be chosen from the most useful of foreign plants, and
those common and indigenous in England. All sciences should, I think, be
taught more for the sake of their facts, and less for that of their
system, than heretofore. Comprehensive and connected views are
impossible to most men; the systems they learn are nothing but skeletons
to them; but nearly all men can understand the relations of a few facts
bearing on daily business, and to be exemplified in common substances.
And science will soon be so vast that the most comprehensive men will
still be narrow, and we shall see the fitness of rather teaching our
youth to concentrate their general intelligence highly on given points
than scatter it towards an infinite horizon from which they can fetch
nothing, and to which they can carry nothing.
[From “Nature and Art,” December 1, 1866.]
_ART-TEACHING BY CORRESPONDENCE._
DEAR MR. WILLIAMS:[35] I like your plan of teaching by letter
exceedingly: and not only so, but have myself adopted it largely, with
the help of an intelligent under-master, whose operations, however, so
far from interfering with, you will much facilitate, if you can bring
this literary way of teaching into more accepted practice. I wish we had
more drawing-masters who were able to give instruction definite enough
to be expressed in writing: many can teach nothing but a few tricks of
the brush, and have nothing to write, because nothing to tell.
With every wish for your success,--a wish which I make quite as much in
your pupils’ interest as in your own,--
Believe me, always faithfully yours,
J. RUSKIN.
DENMARK HILL, _November, 1860_.
LETTERS ON ART.
II.
PUBLIC INSTITUTIONS AND THE NATIONAL GALLERY.
DANGER TO THE NATIONAL GALLERY. 1847.
THE NATIONAL GALLERY. 1852.
THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 1866.
ON THE PURCHASE OF PICTURES. 1880.
II.
PUBLIC INSTITUTIONS AND THE NATIONAL GALLERY.
[From “The Times,” January 7, 1847.]
_DANGER TO THE NATIONAL GALLERY._[36]
_To the Editor of “The Times.”_
SIR: As I am sincerely desirous that a stop may be put to the dangerous
process of cleaning lately begun in our National Gallery, and as I
believe that what is right is most effectively when most kindly
advocated, and what is true most convincingly when least passionately
asserted, I was grieved to see the violent attack upon Mr. Eastlake in
your columns of Friday last; yet not less surprised at the attempted
defence which appeared in them yesterday.[37] The outcry which has
arisen upon this subject has been just, but it has been too loud; the
injury done is neither so great nor so wilful as has been asserted, and
I fear that the respect which might have been paid to remonstrance may
be refused to clamor.