(October 1887)
THROUGH the exertions of Sir Charles Newton, to whom every student of
classic art should be grateful, some of the wonderful treasures so long
immured in the grimy vaults of the British Museum have at last been
brought to light, and the new Sculpture Room now opened to the public
will amply repay the trouble of a visit, even from those to whom art is a
stumbling-block and a rock of offence. For setting aside the mere beauty
of form, outline and mass, the grace and loveliness of design and the
delicacy of technical treatment, here we have shown to us what the Greeks
and Romans thought about death; and the philosopher, the preacher, the
practical man of the world, and even the Philistine himself, cannot fail
to be touched by these “sermons in stones,” with their deep significance,
their fertile suggestion, their plain humanity. Common tombstones they
are, most of them, the work not of famous artists but of simple
handicraftsmen, only they were wrought in days when every handicraft was
an art. The finest specimens, from the purely artistic point of view,
are undoubtedly the two _stelai_ found at Athens. They are both the
tombstones of young Greek athletes. In one the athlete is represented
handing his _strigil_ to his slave, in the other the athlete stands
alone, _strigil_ in hand. They do not belong to the greatest period of
Greek art, they have not the grand style of the Phidian age, but they are
beautiful for all that, and it is impossible not to be fascinated by
their exquisite grace and by the treatment which is so simple in its
means, so subtle in its effect. All the tombstones, however, are full of
interest. Here is one of two ladies of Smyrna who were so remarkable in
their day that the city voted them honorary crowns; here is a Greek
doctor examining a little boy who is suffering from indigestion; here is
the memorial of Xanthippus who, probably, was a martyr to gout, as he is
holding in his hand the model of a foot, intended, no doubt, as a votive
offering to some god. A lovely _stele_ from Rhodes gives us a family
group. The husband is on horseback and is bidding farewell to his wife,
who seems as if she would follow him but is being held back by a little
child. The pathos of parting from those we love is the central motive of
Greek funeral art. It is repeated in every possible form, and each mute
marble stone seems to murmur _χαîρε_. Roman art is different. It
introduces vigorous and realistic portraiture and deals with pure family
life far more frequently than Greek art does. They are very ugly, those
stern-looking Roman men and women whose portraits are exhibited on their
tombs, but they seem to have been loved and respected by their children
and their servants. Here is the monument of Aphrodisius and Atilia, a
Roman gentleman and his wife, who died in Britain many centuries ago, and
whose tombstone was found in the Thames; and close by it stands a _stele_
from Rome with the busts of an old married couple who are certainly
marvellously ill-favoured. The contrast between the abstract Greek
treatment of the idea of death and the Roman concrete realization of the
individuals who have died is extremely curious.
Besides the tombstones, the new Sculpture Room contains some most
fascinating examples of Roman decorative art under the Emperors. The
most wonderful of all, and this alone is worth a trip to Bloomsbury, is a
bas-relief representing a marriage scene, Juno Pronuba is joining the
hands of a handsome young noble and a very stately lady. There is all
the grace of Perugino in this marble, all the grace of Raphael even. The
date of it is uncertain, but the particular cut of the bridegroom’s beard
seems to point to the time of the Emperor Hadrian. It is clearly the
work of Greek artists and is one of the most beautiful bas-reliefs in the
whole Museum. There is something in it which reminds one of the music
and the sweetness of Propertian verse. Then we have delightful friezes
of children. One representing children playing on musical instruments
might have suggested much of the plastic art of Florence. Indeed, as we
view these marbles it is not difficult to see whence the Renaissance
sprang and to what we owe the various forms of Renaissance art. The
frieze of the Muses, each of whom wears in her hair a feather plucked
from the wings of the vanquished sirens, is extremely fine; there is a
lovely little bas-relief of two cupids racing in chariots; and the frieze
of recumbent Amazons has some splendid qualities of design. A frieze of
children playing with the armour of the god Mars should also be
mentioned. It is full of fancy and delicate humour.
We hope that some more of the hidden treasures will shortly be catalogued
and shown. In the vaults at present there is a very remarkable
bas-relief of the marriage of Cupid and Psyche, and another representing
the professional mourners weeping over the body of the dead. The fine
cast of the Lion of Chæronea should also be brought up, and so should the
_stele_ with the marvellous portrait of the Roman slave. Economy is an
excellent public virtue, but the parsimony that allows valuable works of
art to remain in the grim and gloom of a damp cellar is little short of a
detestable public vice.