Whether or not this temper, so clearly traceable as a distinct

influence in the course of Greek development, was indeed the peculiar

gift of the Dorian race, certainly that race is the best illustration

of it, in its love of order, of that severe composition everywhere,

of which the Dorian style of architecture is, as it were, a material

symbol--in its constant aspiration after what is earnest and

dignified, as exemplified most evidently in the religion of its

predilection, the religion of Apollo. [254] For as that Ionian

influence, the chryselephantine influence, had its patron in

Hephaestus, belonged to the religion of Hephaestus, husband of

Aphrodite, the representation of exquisite workmanship, of fine art

in metal, coming from the East in close connexion with the artificial

furtherance, through dress and personal ornament, of the beauty of

the body; so that Dorian or European influence embodied itself in the

religion of Apollo. For the development of this or that mythological

conception, from its root in fact or law of the physical world, is

very various in its course. Thus, Demeter, the spirit of life in

grass,--and Dionysus, the "spiritual form" of life in the green sap,-

-remain, to the end of men's thoughts and fancies about them, almost

wholly physical. But Apollo, the "spiritual form" of sunbeams, early

becomes (the merely physical element in his constitution being almost

wholly suppressed) exclusively ethical,--the "spiritual form" of

inward or intellectual light, in all its manifestations. He

represents all those specially European ideas, of a reasonable,

personal freedom, as understood in Greece; of a reasonable polity; of

the sanity of soul and body, through the cure of disease and of the

sense of sin; of the perfecting of both by reasonable exercise or

ascêsis; his religion is a sort of embodied equity, its aim the

realisation of fair reason and just consideration of the truth of

things everywhere.

[255] I cannot dwell on the general aspects of this subject further,

but I would remark that in art also the religion of Apollo was a

sanction of, and an encouragement towards the true valuation of

humanity, in its sanity, its proportion, its knowledge of itself.

Following after this, Greek art attained, in its reproductions of

human form, not merely to the profound expression of the highest

indwelling spirit of human intelligence, but to the expression also

of the great human passions, of the powerful movements as well as of

the calm and peaceful order of the soul, as finding in the affections

of the body a language, the elements of which the artist might

analyse, and then combine, order, and recompose. In relation to

music, to art, to all those matters over which the Muses preside,

Apollo, as distinct from Hermes, seems to be the representative and

patron of what I may call reasonable music, of a great intelligence

at work in art, of beauty attained through the conscious realisation

of ideas. They were the cities of the Dorian affinity which early

brought to perfection that most characteristic of Greek institutions,

the sacred dance, with the whole gymnastic system which was its

natural accompaniment. And it was the familiar spectacle of that

living sculpture which developed, perhaps, beyond everything else in

the Greek mind, at its best, a sense of the beauty and significance

of the human form.

Into that bewildered, dazzling world of minute [256] and dainty

handicraft--the chamber of Paris, the house of Alcinous--in which the

form of man alone had no adequate place, and as yet, properly, was

not, this Dorian, European, Apolline influence introduced the

intelligent and spiritual human presence, and gave it its true value,

a value consistently maintained to the end of Greek art, by a steady

hold upon and preoccupation with the inward harmony and system of

human personality.

In the works of the Asiatic tradition--the marbles of Nineveh, for

instance--and, so far as we can see, in the early Greek art, which

derives from it, as, for example, in the archaic remains from Cyprus,

the form of man is inadequate, and below the measure of perfection

attained there in the representation of the lower forms of life; just

as in the little reflective art of Japan, so lovely in its

reproduction of flower or bird, the human form alone comes almost as

a caricature, or is at least untouched by any higher ideal. To that

Asiatic tradition, then, with its perfect craftsmanship, its

consummate skill in design, its power of hand, the Dorian, the

European, the true Hellenic influence brought a revelation of the

soul and body of man.

And we come at last in the marbles of Aegina to a monument, which

bears upon it the full expression of this humanism,--to a work, in

which the presence of man, realised with complete mastery of hand,

and with clear apprehension of how he actually is and moves and

looks, [257] is touched with the freshest sense of that new-found,

inward value; the energy of worthy passions purifying, the light of

his reason shining through, bodily forms and motions, solemnised,

attractive, pathetic. We have reached an extant work, real and

visible, of an importance out of all proportion to anything actually

remaining of earlier art, and justifying, by its direct interest and

charm, our long prelude on the beginnings of Greek sculpture, while

there was still almost nothing actually to see.

These fifteen figures of Parian marble, of about two-thirds the size

of life, forming, with some deficiencies, the east and west gables of

a temple of Athene, the ruins of which still stand on a hill-side by

the sea-shore, in a remote part of the island of Aegina, were

discovered in the year 1811, and having been purchased by the Crown

Prince, afterwards King Louis I., of Bavaria, are now the great

ornament of the Glyptothek, or Museum of Sculpture, at Munich. The

group in each gable consisted of eleven figures; and of the fifteen

larger figures discovered, five belong to the eastern, ten to the

western gable, so that the western gable is complete with the

exception of one figure, which should stand in the place to which, as

the groups are arranged at Munich, the beautiful figure, bending down

towards the fallen leader, has been actually transferred from the

eastern gable; certain fragments showing that the lost figure [258]

corresponded essentially to this, which has therefore been removed

hither from its place in the less complete group to which it properly

belongs. For there are two legitimate views or motives in the

restoration of ancient sculpture, the antiquarian and the aesthetic,

as they may be termed respectively; the former limiting itself to the

bare presentation of what actually remains of the ancient work,

braving all shock to living eyes from the mutilated nose or chin;

while the latter, the aesthetic method, requires that, with the least

possible addition or interference, by the most skilful living hand

procurable, the object shall be made to please, or at least content

the living eye seeking enjoyment and not a bare fact of science, in

the spectacle of ancient art. This latter way of restoration,--the

aesthetic way,--followed by the famous connoisseurs of the

Renaissance, has been followed here; and the visitor to Munich

actually sees the marbles of Aegina, as restored after a model by the

tasteful hand of Thorwaldsen.

Different views have, however, been maintained as to the right

grouping of the figures; but the composition of the two groups was

apparently similar, not only in general character but in a certain

degree of correspondence of all the figures, each to each. And in

both the subject is a combat,--a combat between Greeks and Asiatics

concerning the body of a Greek hero, fallen among the foemen,--an

incident so characteristic [259] of the poetry of the heroic wars.

In both cases, Athene, whose temple this sculpture was designed to

decorate, intervenes, her image being complete in the western gable,

the head and some other fragments remaining of that in the eastern.

The incidents represented were probably chosen with reference to the

traditions of Aegina in connexion with the Trojan war. Greek legend

is ever deeply coloured by local interest and sentiment, and this

monument probably celebrates Telamon, and Ajax his son, the heroes

who established the fame of Aegina, and whom the united Greeks, on

the morning of the battle of Salamis, in which the Aeginetans were

distinguished above all other Greeks in bravery, invited as their

peculiar, spiritual allies from that island.

Accordingly, antiquarians are, for the most part, of opinion that the

eastern gable represents the combat of Hercules (Hercules being the

only figure among the warriors certainly to be identified), and of

his comrade Telamon, against Laomedon of Troy, in which, properly,

Hercules was leader, but here, as squire and archer, is made to give

the first place to Telamon, as the titular hero of the place.

Opinion is not so definite regarding the subject of the western

gable, which, however, probably represents the combat between the

Greeks and Trojans over the body of Patroclus. In both cases an

Aeginetan hero, in the eastern gable Telamon, in the western [260]

his son Ajax, is represented in the extreme crisis of battle, such a

crisis as, according to the deep religiousness of the Greeks of that

age, was a motive for the visible intervention of the goddess in

favour of her chosen people.

Opinion as to the date of the work, based mainly on the

characteristics of the work itself, has varied within a period

ranging from the middle of the sixtieth to the middle of the

seventieth Olympiad, inclining on the whole to the later date, in the

period of the Ionian revolt against Persia, and a few years earlier

than the battle of Marathon.

In this monument, then, we have a revelation in the sphere of art, of

the temper which made the victories of Marathon and Salamis possible,

of the true spirit of Greek chivalry as displayed in the Persian war,

and in the highly ideal conception of its events, expressed in

Herodotus and approving itself minutely to the minds of the Greeks,

as a series of affairs in which the gods and heroes of old time

personally intervened, and that not as mere shadows. It was natural

that the high-pitched temper, the stress of thought and feeling,

which ended in the final conflict of Greek liberty with Asiatic

barbarism, should stimulate quite a new interest in the poetic

legends of the earlier conflict between them in the heroic age. As

the events of the Crusades and the chivalrous spirit of that period,

leading men's minds back to ponder over the deeds of [261]

Charlemagne and his paladins, gave birth to the composition of the

Song of Roland, just so this Aeginetan sculpture displays the Greeks

of a later age feeding their enthusiasm on the legend of a distant

past, and is a link between Herodotus and Homer. In those ideal

figures, pensive a little from the first, we may suppose, with the

shadowiness of a past age, we may yet see how Greeks of the time of

Themistocles really conceived of Homeric knight and squire.

Some other fragments of art, also discovered in Aegina, and supposed

to be contemporary with the temple of Athene, tend, by their

roughness and immaturity, to show that this small building, so united

in its effect, so complete in its simplicity, in the symmetry of its

two main groups of sculpture, was the perfect artistic flower of its

time and place. Yet within the limits of this simple unity, so

important an element in the charm and impressiveness of the place, a

certain inequality of design and execution may be detected; the hand

of a slightly earlier master, probably, having worked in the western

gable, while the master of the eastern gable has gone some steps

farther than he in fineness and power of expression; the stooping

figure of the supposed Ajax,--belonging to the western group in the

present arrangement, but really borrowed, as I said, from the

eastern,--which has in it something above the type of the figures

grouped round it, being this later sculptor's work. Yet Overbeck,

[262] who has elaborated the points of this distinction of styles,

commends without reserve the technical excellence of the whole work,

executed, as he says, "with an application of all known instruments

of sculpture; the delicate calculation of weight in the composition

of the several parts, allowing the artist to dispense with all

artificial supports, and to set his figures, with all their complex

motions, and yet with plinths only three inches thick, into the basis

of the gable; the bold use of the chisel, which wrought the shield,

on the freely-held arm, down to a thickness of scarcely three inches;

the fineness of the execution even in parts of the work invisible to

an ordinary spectator, in the diligent finishing of which the only

motive of the artist was to satisfy his own conviction as to the

nature of good sculpture."

It was the Dorian cities, Plato tells us, which first shook off the

false Asiatic shame, and stripped off their clothing for purposes of

exercise and training in the gymnasium; and it was part of the Dorian

or European influence to assert the value in art of the unveiled and

healthy human form. And here the artists of Aegina, notwithstanding

Homer's description of Greek armour, glowing like the sun itself,

have displayed the Greek warriors--Greek and Trojan alike--not in the

equipments they would really have worn, but naked,--flesh fairer than

that golden armour, though more subdued and tranquil [263] in effect

on the spectator, the undraped form of man coming like an embodiment

of the Hellenic spirit, and as an element of temperance, into the

somewhat gaudy spectacle of Asiatic, or archaic art. Paris alone

bears his dainty trappings, characteristically,--a coat of golden

scale-work, the scales set on a lining of canvas or leather, shifting

deftly over the delicate body beneath, and represented on the gable

by the gilding, or perhaps by real gilt metal.

It was characteristic also of that more truly Hellenic art--another

element of its temperance--to adopt the use of marble in its works;

and the material of these figures is the white marble of Paros.

Traces of colour have, however, been found on certain parts of them.

The outer surfaces of the shields and helmets have been blue; their

inner parts and the crests of the helmets, red; the hem of the

drapery of Athene, the edges of her sandals, the plinths on which the

figures stand, also red; one quiver red, another blue; the eyes and

lips, too, coloured; perhaps, the hair. There was just a limited and

conventionalised use of colour, in effect, upon the marble.

And although the actual material of these figures is marble, its

coolness and massiveness suiting the growing severity of Greek

thought, yet they have their reminiscences of work in bronze, in a

certain slimness and tenuity, a certain dainty lightness of poise in

their grouping, which [264] remains in the memory as a peculiar note

of their style; the possibility of such easy and graceful balancing

being one of the privileges or opportunities of statuary in cast

metal, of that hollow casting in which the whole weight of the work

is so much less than that of a work of equal size in marble, and

which permits so much wider and freer a disposition of the parts

about its centre of gravity. In Aegina the tradition of metal-work

seems to have been strong, and Onatas, whose name is closely

connected with Aegina, and who is contemporary with the presumably

later portion of this monument, was above all a worker in bronze.

Here again, in this lurking spirit of metal-work, we have a new

element of complexity in the character of these precious remains.

And then, to compass the whole work in our imagination, we must

conceive yet another element in the conjoint effect; metal being

actually mingled with the marble, brought thus to its daintiest point

of refinement, as the little holes indicate, bored into the marble

figures for the attachment of certain accessories in bronze,--lances,

swords, bows, the Medusa's head on the aegis of Athene, and its

fringe of little snakes.

And as there was no adequate consciousness and recognition of the

essentials of man's nature in the older, oriental art, so there is no

pathos, no humanity in the more special sense, but a kind of hardness

and cruelty rather, in those oft-repeated, long, matter-of-fact

processions, on the [265] marbles of Nineveh, of slave-like soldiers

on their way to battle mechanically, or of captives on their way to

slavery or death, for the satisfaction of the Great King. These

Greek marbles, on the contrary, with that figure yearning forward so

graciously to the fallen leader, are deeply impressed with a natural

pathetic effect--the true reflexion again of the temper of Homer in

speaking of war. Ares, the god of war himself, we must remember, is,

according to his original import, the god of storms, of winter raging

among the forests of the Thracian mountains, a brother of the north

wind. It is only afterwards that, surviving many minor gods of war,

he becomes a leader of hosts, a sort of divine knight and patron of

knighthood; and, through the old intricate connexion of love and war,

and that amorousness which is the universally conceded privilege of

the soldier's life, he comes to be very near Aphrodite,--the paramour

of the goddess of physical beauty. So that the idea of a sort of

soft dalliance mingles, in his character, so unlike that of the

Christian leader, Saint George, with the idea of savage, warlike

impulses; the fair, soft creature suddenly raging like a storm, to

which, in its various wild incidents, war is constantly likened in

Homer; the effects of delicate youth and of tempest blending, in

Ares, into one expression, not without that cruelty which mingles

also, like the influence of some malign fate upon him, with the finer

[266] characteristics of Achilles, who is a kind of merely human

double of Ares. And in Homer's impressions of war the same elements

are blent,--the delicacy, the beauty of youth, especially, which

makes it so fit for purposes of love, spoiled and wasted by the

random flood and fire of a violent tempest; the glittering beauty of

the Greek "war-men," expressed in so many brilliant figures, and the

splendour of their equipments, in collision with the miserable

accidents of battle, and the grotesque indignities of death in it,

brought home to our fancy by a hundred pathetic incidents,--the sword

hot with slaughter, the stifling blood in the throat, the spoiling of

the body in every member severally. He thinks of, and records, at

his early ending, the distant home from which the boy came, who goes

stumbling now, just stricken so wretchedly, his bowels in his hands.

He pushes the expression of this contrast to the macabre even,

suggesting the approach of those lower forms of life which await to-

morrow the fair bodies of the heroes, who strive and fall to-day like

these in the Aeginetan gables. For it is just that two-fold

sentiment which this sculpture has embodied. The seemingly stronger

hand which wrought the eastern gable has shown itself strongest in

the rigid expression of the truth of pain, in the mouth of the famous

recumbent figure on the extreme left, the lips just open at the

corner, and in the hard-shut lips of Hercules. Otherwise, [267]

these figures all smile faintly, almost like the monumental effigies

of the Middle Age, with a smile which, even if it be but a result of

the mere conventionality of an art still somewhat immature, has just

the pathetic effect of Homer's conventional epithet "tender," when he

speaks of the flesh of his heroes.

And together with this touching power there is also in this work the

effect of an early simplicity, the charm of its limitations. For as

art which has passed its prime has sometimes the charm of an absolute

refinement in taste and workmanship, so immature art also, as we now

see, has its own attractiveness in the naïveté, the freshness of

spirit, which finds power and interest in simple motives of feeling,

and in the freshness of hand, which has a sense of enjoyment in

mechanical processes still performed unmechanically, in the spending

of care and intelligence on every touch. As regards Italian art, the

sculpture and paintings of the earlier Renaissance, the aesthetic

value of this naïveté is now well understood; but it has its value in

Greek sculpture also. There, too, is a succession of phases through

which the artistic power and purpose grew to maturity, with the

enduring charm of an unconventional, unsophisticated freshness, in

that very early stage of it illustrated by these marbles of Aegina,

not less than in the work of Verrocchio and Mino of Fiesole. Effects

of this we may note in that sculpture [268] of Aegina, not merely in

the simplicity, or monotony even, of the whole composition, and in

the exact and formal correspondence of one gable to the other, but in

the simple readiness with which the designer makes the two second

spearmen kneel, against the probability of the thing, so as just to

fill the space he has to compose in. The profiles are still not yet

of the fully developed Greek type, but have a somewhat sharp

prominence of nose and chin, as in Etrurian design, in the early

sculpture of Cyprus, and in the earlier Greek vases; and the general

proportions of the body in relation to the shoulders are still

somewhat archaically slim. But then the workman is at work in dry

earnestness, with a sort of hard strength in detail, a scrupulousness

verging on stiffness, like that of an early Flemish painter; he

communicates to us his still youthful sense of pleasure in the

experience of the first rudimentary difficulties of his art overcome.

And withal, these figures have in them a true expression of life, of

animation. In this monument of Greek chivalry, pensive and visionary

as it may seem, those old Greek knights live with a truth like that

of Homer or Chaucer. In a sort of stiff grace, combined with a sense

of things bright or sorrowful directly felt, the Aeginetan workman is

as it were the Chaucer of Greek sculpture.

THE AGE OF ATHLETIC PRIZEMEN:

A CHAPTER IN GREEK ART

Greek Studies: a Series of Essays · 第 15 / 17 段