UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 DANIEL C. OILMAN. 
 
. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO 
 
 THE STUDY OF ART, 
 
 BY 
 
 M. A. DWIGHT, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "GRECIAN AND ROMAN MYTHOLOGY." 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 
 
 346 & 348 BROADWAY. 
 
 1856. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, 
 In the year One Thousand Eight Hundred and Fifty-Six, 
 
 BY M. A. D WIGHT, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
TO 
 
 MISS C. M. SEDGWICK, 
 
 THE PIONEER OF AMERICAN FEMALE WRITERS, 
 THIS WORK 
 
 is 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAGE 
 
 IMITATION .... 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 TASTE AND STYLE 84 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 FORM AND PROPORTION . . 03 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 MUSCLES AND JOINTS . . . . * . 71 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 GRAVITY OF THE FIGURE 86 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 DRAWING OF THE FIGURE 92 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 PERSPECTIVE AND LINE 99 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 AND SHADE 105 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. PAGE 
 
 COLOR AND ITS LAWS 112 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 EXPRESSION , . 123 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 COMPOSITION 186 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 CLASSIFICATION OF PICTURES 170 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 PORTRAIT PAINTING 176 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 LANDSCAPE PAINTING 177 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 ANCIENT PICTORIAL ART 184 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 SYMBOLIC COLORS 191 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS 218 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 SCULPTURE 284 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 MUCH is said and written upon the importance of cultivating the art 
 of Design. Our people spend freely, are even lavish of money in pro- 
 curing works of art ; and statistics show its importance as a source of 
 revenue when applied to industrial purposes. Yet, as a branch of edu- 
 cation, drawing is almost entirely neglected. This is partly from a false 
 idea that success depends upon peculiar abilities with which few are 
 gifted ; and partly from ignorance of the kind of cultivation that is 
 necessary to insure success. It is understood that musical skill is 
 acquired only by laborious application and practice, under the best 
 instruction, during several successive years ; while at the same time, it 
 is expected that artistic skill will be acquired in the course of a few 
 weeks. 
 
 The imposition to which the ignorance of the subject exposes a com- 
 munity in the way of poor teaching, and "royal roads," is incalculable. 
 There is no study in which scholars are so wronged as in this. Young 
 artists suffer for the want of good teaching. No rules are given them, 
 and they have no training which will enable them to rely upon their 
 own abilities, and therefore often say, they "can do nothing out of 
 Italy." Many of the most gifted have been entirely blighted by being 
 sent there to " copy pictures." 
 
 " Sir Joshua Reynolds took pupils, and Northcote (who was one of 
 them, and a favorite one too) is the best authority on this point. He 
 informs us, that after the drudgery of the studio was over, cleaning pa- 
 lettes, dead coloring, etc., he was allowed to copy his master's pictures, 
 but received no instruction as to the colors to be used, or the mode of 
 mixing or applying them ; on the contrary, Sir Joshua kept his colors 
 locked up, and never allowed K"orthcote, or any of his scholars, to see 
 him at work." 
 
 " Sir Thomas Lawrence likewise took pupils at a high premium, 
 whom he permitted to copy his portraits from nine until four, under the 
 special condition, that he was to give no instruction whatever, and th^t 
 
Vlll PEEFACE. 
 
 they were not to see him at work : Harlow was one of these favored 
 pupils, who paid him one hundred pounds yearly for that privilege."* 
 
 Can we show any advance upon that method ? At the opening of one 
 of our schools of design, the first teacher established at the head of it 
 knew nothing beyond a limited mechanical system of drawing, invented 
 for the amusement of children. And in another, the teacher employed 
 was one of his scholars, who had advanced so much beyond him as to 
 have commenced learning the first rudiments of art proper. 
 
 One great difficulty is, that the subject is left to " people of taste," 
 instead of being under the direction of educationists. When they take 
 it in charge, and require that drawing shall be as thoroughly taught as 
 mathematics, we shall see in the productions that follow, that our peo- 
 ple are not deficient in natural abilities ; and then too, we shall have an 
 appreciative public, an essential stimulus to true cultivation. Another 
 difficulty is, that art is considered as entirely distinct from other pur- 
 suits. When it ranks with school studies, and is taught with the same 
 care, parents will not require the superficial teaching in art that in any 
 other study they would justly consider an imposition. Their impatience 
 to see some show of skill, is the greatest hindrance to the improvement 
 of their children a mistake which can be overcome only by having the 
 art of drawing thoroughly and universally taught. People will then 
 have learned that art, like all other acquisitions of skill, requires tune. 
 And, because the pencil does not come in daily use during life, entirely 
 overlooking the advantage the study affords, certainly one of the great- 
 est in the influence it has upon the general cultivation of mind and taste, 
 many gravely ask, " of what use is it ?" In considering these points, 
 can we wonder, that artists of the present day have not the skill of the 
 old masters ? 
 
 This work is the result of practical teaching, pursued for many years. 
 It is nothing more than it purports to be an introduction intended to 
 give some idea of the requirements of art, and direct the scholar to the 
 study of nature. By studying the best works of the best masters, he 
 will find that the rules here defined governed their practice ; and by 
 studying nature, he will learn the principles on which they are founded. 
 A knowledge of both is essential to every one who would enjoy and 
 appreciate works of art more especially to those who have the means 
 as well as the disposition to encourage the efforts of young artists. By 
 paying high prices for their imperfect works, they pet their faults, and 
 effectually hinder any real advance towards that point of excellence 
 which they professedly encourage them to attain. M. A. D, 
 
 * Cleighorn's History of Art. 
 
Library 
 
 California 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO 
 
 THE STUDY OF ART 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IMITATION. 
 
 1. THE same Almighty Wisdom that furnished animals with 
 different physical tastes, that each might find his appropriate 
 food, formed the various orders of mind and the various tastes 
 by which each is characterized ; and, with the same beautiful 
 adaptation of laws, furnished gratification for each, and also the 
 ability to multiply these pleasures. 
 
 2. Some minds relish external beauty : they create material 
 representations; hence the arts of painting, sculpture, and 
 architecture. Others, again, by the combination of sounds, 
 attempt to express those finer sentiments of the heart, that lan- 
 guage fails to define ; hence the musical art. Still another class 
 prefer to clothe their imaginations in rhythmical language ; 
 hence the art of poetry. These are termed Imitative Arts and 
 Fine Arts. The fine arts so called, are all imitative arts, but 
 the imitative arts are not all fine arts. The fine arts are 
 Poetry, Music, Painting, Sculpture, Architecture, and Dancing. 
 These admit the expression of an idea, or sentimentporThe 
 
 1* 
 
10 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 telling of a story, which immediately distinguishes them from 
 the merely imitative arts. Without expression, the works of the 
 poet, the painter, the musician, the sculptor, and the architect, 
 in point of merit, fall below the best productions of the mechanic 
 arts, because these are perfect of their kind, while those of the 
 fine arts, with this deficiency, are wanting in their most essential 
 element. On the other hand, the application of genius and skill 
 to the practice of the merely imitative arts, artificial flowers, &c., 
 or even the mechanic, still farther removed from the ideal, may 
 elevate their productions to the rank of the fine arts. It is this 
 distinction, given by expression, that leads us, when investigat- 
 ing the character of a people, to look at their fine arts rather 
 than their imitative or mechanic, (a) 
 
 3. QUATREMERE DE QuiNCY, in his work on the Fine Arts, 
 says : " It is generally allowed that poetry takes precedence of 
 all the arts. A kind of universal consent assigns to it the first 
 rank. Every one comprehends and feels that this mode of 
 imitation is the least material of all, that is, the farthest removed 
 from sensible objects ; and also, that the manner of enjoying it 
 as well as its images, is that with which the senses have least 
 to do. There is nothing less material than the imitative instru- 
 ments of poetry ; namely, speech and the rhythmical and 
 metrical arrangements of words. In regard to the objects of 
 the visible world, one cannot conceive a greater distance between 
 what it depicts and its manner of depicting. This distance is 
 the same as that which exists between the idea and the sight 
 of a thing. Poetry merely produces the images of objects by 
 abstract and indirect means, which are only rendered visible to 
 us, by compelling us to picture them to ourselves. It can only 
 address itself to the internal sense, to that intellectual organ, on 
 which its images have no hold but by reason of the activity they 
 excite in it. 
 
 4 " There is certainly, no kind of imitation so far removed from 
 actual reality, and so little susceptible of being confounded with 
 its model, as that, which embracing the whole of Nature, lays 
 under contribution the visible and the invisible, and whose com- 
 
IMITATION. 11 
 
 binations are unlimited both in space and duration by any real 
 state of comparison, boundary frame, or fixed admeasurement. 
 
 5. " Poetical imitation, then, by its distance from reality, and 
 the variety of relations it embraces being that which furnishes 
 to the mind, in the exercise which it creates for it, the greatest 
 amount of appositions and completions, should justly occupy, 
 and as confirmed by general opinion, does occupy the first rank 
 in the imitative scale of the Fine Arts. 
 
 6. " If it is true, that general feeling places music after poetry 
 in this scale, it is easy to perceive that such order is conforma- 
 ble to the rank our theory assigns to the different arts, according 
 as their means of imitating, and their images are more or less 
 removed from reality, and the pleasure derived from them 
 depends more or less on the sentiments and mental activity. 
 Music, but for its physical impression on the ear, will best con- 
 tend for the first rank with poetry ; for, by the combination of 
 sound alone, it has the power of creating images at once the 
 most varied and the most immaterial. Like poetry, it transports 
 us into an ideal world, where the imagination, converting mere 
 concatenations of song, concerts of instruments, and sonorous 
 effects into forms, bodies, and pictures, gives to its own creations 
 the force of existence. 
 
 7. " Undoubtedly, no art more imperatively requires that the 
 actions and emotions of the mind should co-operate with the 
 intrinsic value of its images, and compensate for whatever is 
 vague, and indifferent, either in that which serves for its model, 
 or becomes the imitation of it. It is, moreover, worthy of notice 
 that to this art, people devoid of imagination or sensibility are 
 the most indifferent. 
 
 8. " Custom is found to be in accordance with this theory, by 
 classing next in succession painting, \vhich imitates bodies by 
 the lineal appearance and color of bodies. Immediately after 
 painting, ranks sculpture, or the plastic art, which in the repre- 
 sentation of bodies, employs existent matter. It cannot be 
 denied that, in the works of these arts, the model, and what ber 
 comes the image of it, are in actual contact to a certain degree. 
 It is this property that draws down the willing admiration of low 
 
12 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 and vulgar prejudice, while, on the contrary, their true value 
 and merit depend far less on corporeal forms by matter, than on 
 the expression of the most immaterial by corporeal forms. 
 They consist in representing the moral by the physical ; in por- 
 traying intellectual ideas, and the affections of the mind by 
 palpable forms ; finally, in giving not a body to thought, but a 
 thought to bodies. 
 
 9. " Architecture comes next in rank in this imitative scale ; 
 and the arts of dancing and pantomime are, by general consent, 
 ranked with those of design, (b) 
 
 10. " This rank, which is that assigned them by our theory, is 
 wholly consonant to their nature, since they, of all the arts, are 
 the most exclusively addressed to the senses, least directly to 
 the mind, and whose imitation is most strictly confined to reality. 
 
 11. "In fact, there is no kind of imitation which is so closely, 
 I will not say in contact with, but almost interwoven with reality, 
 as that of pantomimic art, in which the model, the image, and 
 even the imitator are confounded together. In the pantomimic 
 ballet, for instance, the separation is very slight between the 
 imitator and the imitated. The art is so little distinguished 
 from the artist, that he himself becomes the art. Substance is 
 not only represented by substance, but living beings by living 
 beings. Life and motion are represented by life and motion. 
 Hence, the mental pleasure is feeble in proportion as that of 
 the senses is vivid. The action of comparison is less frequently 
 exercised, and appositions become no longer possible, because 
 of the very slight separations. This form of art is most in favor 
 with those whose greatest pleasure in artistic representations is 
 that arising from the illusion of the senses." * 
 
 12. In pursuing the study of the arts, we cannot but acknowledge 
 the accuracy of the theory that assigns to poetry the first rank, for 
 it has the greatest scope, admitting the treatment of all subjects, 
 and is not in the least dependent upon the other arts. By the 
 combination of words alone, used as language, poetry gives full 
 
 * Quatremere De Quincy on the Fine Arts. 
 
IMITATION. 13 
 
 expression to every idea, from the most powerful to the most 
 delicate, and presents scenes so vividly as well as so variedly to 
 the mind of the reader, that the impressions are both pleasing 
 and permanent. 
 
 13. Music, if a simple melody, depends somewhat upon the 
 language of the poet for additional interest, and for expression 
 by sound alone, in forming a whole of many parts, in order to 
 obtain a full effect. 
 
 14. Painting ranks next to music, and is limited in subject. 
 As, for instance, allegory, though often attempted, does not pro- 
 perly come within the province of ideal art, because a pictorial 
 representation can express but one point of time. In poetry, the 
 continuation of a metaphor, or figure of speech, may explain all 
 apparent obscurity. If, in a picture, we substitute one thing 
 for another, it becomes an enigma. Allegorical pictures, there- 
 fore, properly class with picture writing, or hieroglyphics, and, 
 like them, need a key. A true picture, on the contrary, tells 
 its own story, and is easily read. 
 
 15. Sculpture, or the plastic art, is limited in subjects, and, 
 therefore, cannot rank with poetry. 
 
 16. Architecture is so dependent upon the plastic art for or- 
 namentation, that it can hardly be considered by itself. It had 
 its origin, and was perfected as an art under the influence of 
 Polytheism, and, in considering the subject, it must be borne in 
 mind that the architecture of the present day is not that of the 
 past. 
 
 17. Appropriated to temples and places of worship, the forms 
 of which as well as the ornamental parts had their meaning, ar- 
 chitecture was truly a fine art, and, as such, was governed by 
 certain rules of practice. The various orders then established 
 have since been imperfectly and inappropriately imitated in 
 every kind of edifice, till architecture as an art is all but lost. 
 Ancient temples and churches are still considered standards of 
 beauty ; not that the spirit of their architecture is understood, 
 but because there is something attractive and commanding in 
 the truth and beauty, the character and expression of those 
 
14 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 wonderful structures as they speak to us through the medium 
 of sight. Hence, their frequent adoption as models; but in 
 these, as in all imitations of original works, the informing spirit, 
 which constitutes the distinguishing excellence of the productions 
 of ancient art, and has insured them immortality, is, in modern 
 buildings, entirely wanting. At the present day, we have 
 architectural buildings, but not architecture as a fine art. 
 
 18. Among the imitative arts, as distinguished from the fine 
 arts, engraving ranks the highest. Excellence in this branch 
 of art, depends so much upon the artistic knowledge and skill 
 of the engraver, that his productions would seem entitled to 
 rank with the fine arts. Yet, engraving is strictly an imitative 
 art, the subject of imitation having been supplied by some pro- 
 ficient in the fine arts. In addition to this, the artist must call 
 in the aid of mechanical skill to complete the labor of his hand. 
 Artificial flowers and embroidery rank with the imitative arts. 
 These admit of the ideal, both in form and color, and are often 
 made exceedingly pleasing by the beauty of conception, or ar- 
 tistic taste displayed in the skill of the workman. The imita- 
 tion of pearls, precious stones, &c., allows of no such latitude. 
 In the manufacture of these, the artist does not imitate in the 
 artistic sense of the term, that is, he does not make an ideal 
 imitation : he simply copies his object. It is necessary for the 
 student of art to have this distinction between imitation and 
 copy clear in his mind. A wax figure, for instance, is a copy 
 from life, and may be made perfectly deceptive, not illusive. 
 An artificial flower is an imitation of the natural, and, as such, 
 admits of ideal embellishment, still preserving a true image of 
 the object represented, a marked and important distinction. 
 This ideal embellishment is beyond the province of copy. The 
 naturalist does not need the ability to give it ; but to the true 
 artist, the power of ideal imitation is an indispensable requisite. 
 
 19. Without illusion, which distinguishes the imitative arts 
 from the mechanic, there is no ideal imitation. This essential 
 element of art it is difficult to define. It is not deception that 
 
IMITATION. 15 
 
 implies artifice. Illusion is a fallacious show, and belongs to 
 imitation, not to copy. A copy, orfac simile, is deceptive, not 
 illusive ; as, for instance, the imitation of pearls, marbles, pre- 
 cious stones and the like. The daguerreotypist, by his art, 
 transfixes the illusive reflection of the mirror. This power 
 constitutes his art. Artistic effect, or illusion, so essential to 
 the character, or expression, is the result of design. 
 
 20. And here, let us ask what gives impulse to this power 
 of imitation that is common to all humanity ? It is pleasure. 
 And what is the definite object of imitation ? The same thing : 
 pleasure. Man receives pleasure from certain objects in nature, 
 either in their form, or color, or in the ideas they suggest, and 
 he desires to increase his gratification by multiplying the objects 
 of it according to his will, or by his own creation. Still, with 
 all his powers, man can never be anything but an imitator. To 
 create something out of nothing, or to form without a model, is 
 the prerogative of the Infinite. To the mind of man, a new 
 idea, or conception is suggested by something previously exist- 
 ing ; sometimes, unconsciously, perhaps, to its author ; yet, the 
 idea may always be traced to its origin. Some minds enjoy the 
 grand, the majestic, the powerful ; others, again, relish neither 
 of these : their coarser natures seek gratification in the indulgence 
 of physical appetites, and each one, if true to himself, finds and 
 pursues what is most congenial to his nature. The mind con- 
 stantly craves new impressions, new sensations, and, to produce 
 these, art is called in requisition. A true work of art excites 
 new ideas, new emotions, and, in contemplating it, our minds 
 are enriched with new conceptions of truth and of beauty. This 
 is the greatest benefit conferred by art, as well as its highest 
 attainment. To reach this excellence, the study of nature is 
 indispensable. Her laws must govern art. The beauties, 
 varieties and intentions of nature are infinite ; those of art are 
 limited. Art has but one great end and aim, and that is to 
 produce ideal beauty. This ideal beauty must have principles 
 for its foundation ; and, to learn the true principles of form, 
 light and shade, harmony and symmetry that are essential to 
 
16 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 successful imitation, the artist must go to the immutable laws 
 of nature, the only guide that will conduct him to fame and im- 
 mortality. He will find that truth to nature is the fundamental 
 principle of all imitative art. For such is the beautiful harmony 
 of creation, that the violation of nature's laws is repulsive to 
 the mind, unless it has become perverted; then, it no longer 
 shrinks from deformity. And if man would make a successful 
 imitation of nature in any form of art, he must not only under- 
 stand physical laws, but the laws of the mind. On the know- 
 ledge of the first depends the truth of imitation ; and on the se- 
 cond, the impression produced by his work. If he is ignorant 
 of either, there will be no correspondence between cause and 
 effect ; and the disappointment occasioned by his fruitless attempt 
 to excite admiration or give pleasure will be in proportion to 
 the labor that his work has cost him. The success both of the 
 poet and painter depend upon their taking a wider range than 
 the mere imitator or copyist. Their province is to embellish 
 truth, the truth of nature, which each must make the foundation 
 of his work, whether he adopts the pen or the pencil as a medium 
 of expression. In the merely useful, we look for the literal ; 
 and in the poetic, for the ornamental or ideal. When the ideal 
 is wanting in the productions of the poet, we have rhyme, but 
 no poetry ; or, in the works of the artist, we have paint, but no 
 picture. If painting has been correctly defined as "silent 
 poesy," how few can claim the name of artist. Servile copying 
 and elaborate detail require no effort of skill beyond the 
 attainment of the most limited capacity. The mere painter has 
 no relish for anything higher. He is incapable of feeling the 
 beautiful and true, has no appreciation of artistic excellence, 
 and no power of poetical conception. He would contemplate 
 the best productions of art without the slightest emotion, and 
 drive his plough over the " wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower," 
 unmindful of its perishing beauty. 
 
 21. The modern German pictures, known as those of the 
 Dusseldorf School, illustrate the impossibility of accomplishing 
 the highest purposes of art, by attempting an exact copy of 
 
IMITATION. 17 
 
 nature. Certain objects may be closely copied ; when others 
 introduced in the same composition do not admit of it. Then 
 the reality in the appearance of the one is opposed to the evi- 
 dent falsity of the other ; consequently there is a want of unity 
 or harmony, and unity in the whole as well as every part, is an 
 indispensable requisite of a good composition. The authors of 
 these works attempt to copy life just as they find it, hence the 
 sameness of character that stamps their productions. The 
 apparent endeavor of each one is, to see what can be accom- 
 plished without the aid of rules, and whenever they represent 
 figures the size of life, the pictures appear more like tableaux 
 vivants than like works of art. 
 
 22. In this method of practice, no artist can excel as a land- 
 scape painter, because he depends for his effect upon a close 
 copy of nature, which it is impossible to extend beyond the 
 foreground. The indistinctness that belongs to the distance, 
 and that must be represented in the back-ground, baffles his 
 limited skill. He has no power of creating space on his own 
 canvas, and in the distance, so essential to the pleasing effect 
 of a landscape, he makes a total failure. Neither does he 
 succeed in other subjects, for his erroneous practice will not 
 qualify him to give a correct representation of any object so 
 placed as to require an indistinct outline and degradation of 
 color. This fact proves the impossibility of success to an artist 
 who paints with the minute detail of a naturalist. With this 
 detail he cannot make a harmonious picture. To be in keeping, 
 every part must be idealized, and in the works of the great ideal 
 artists we do not find the representation of any particular fabric. 
 Every thing introduced is idealized, hence the beautiful har- 
 mony of the whole, a point worthy of great attention. As all 
 objects introduced serve as language to the artist, who by his 
 selection, arrangement, and representation, expresses the idea 
 he intends to convey, we would ask what occasion has the ideal 
 artist for mechanical copying ? 
 
 23. Matters of taste in the fine arts may be questioned, 
 but the laws by which they are governed are arbitrary, and 
 
18 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 must be obeyed. A person who understands the science of 
 music takes no pleasure in listening to the performance of an 
 opera where the laws of time and harmony are not strictly 
 observed. Yet an uncultivated ear will listen to the same per- 
 formance without detecting a fault. The first may know no- 
 thing of the art of painting, while the second, when looking at 
 a collection of pictures, will be annoyed at a disregard of the 
 rules that govern the pictorial art, and each will wonder at the 
 apparent want of discrimination in the. other. 
 
 24. It has been said that " genius plays and talent labors." 
 This truly defines these different powers, but 'tis only the 
 genius that plays by rule, as the most spirited dancer observes 
 the true measure of time, that is eminently successful. Raf- 
 faelle in his short life accomplished by the play of his genius, 
 what the labor of talent alone could never have done in three 
 score years and ten. Yet no artist was more eminently guided 
 by the rules of art, and no artist is so often referred to as a 
 standard of excellence in every department of art from the 
 highest to the lowest. To say that beauty must be produced 
 by rule, seems a contradiction in terms. But his works were 
 eminently beautiful. They were also pre-eminent for ideal 
 beauty of imitation, the life and soul of art, to which every 
 other element constituting the excellence of the whole composi- 
 tion may be considered subordinate. 
 
 25. Sir Joshua Reynolds, a standard author among artists, 
 remarks in one of his lectures, " As our art is not a divine gift, 
 so neither is it a mechanical trade. Its foundations are laid in 
 solid science ; and practice, though essential to perfection, can 
 never attain that to which it aims, unless it works under the 
 direction of principle." And if the question is asked, whence 
 these rules are derived, we reply in the words of Fuseli, who 
 says, " The rules of art are either supplied by Nature herself, 
 or selected from the compendiums of students who are called 
 masters and founders of schools. The imitation of Nature her- 
 self leads to style, that of the schools to manner." Here is an 
 important distinction. Too many artists leave the study of 
 
IMITATION. 19 
 
 nature, and copy works of art, till they become what are termed 
 mannerists. By following this course they soon lose the 
 strength and vigor of their own natural abilities, and never 
 produce works bearing the stamp of originality. 
 
 26. Goethe remarks, " that the highest demand that can be 
 made of an artist is this : that he shall hold to nature study her 
 imitate her ; that he shall produce something resembling her 
 manifestations. 
 
 27. " How great, nay, immense this requirement is, we do 
 not often consider ; and even the true artist succeeds through 
 instinct and taste, through practice and trial, in approaching the 
 outward beautiful side of objects, in choosing the best out of the 
 good before him, and at last learns how to produce an agree- 
 able appearance, how much more rarely does it occur, espe- 
 cially in these later times, that the artist is able to penetrate 
 into the depths of his own soul, as well as to take the measure 
 of outward objects, and thus, instead of producing works of a 
 merely superficial effect, emulate Nature herself, and create a 
 spiritually organic whole, giving to his work an import and a 
 form that make it seem at once natural and supernatural." 
 
 28. To find these works that "seem at once natural and 
 super-natural," and that so charm the imagination and delight 
 the senses, we must go back to those times when the productions 
 of art were valued in proportion to the mental labor and ability 
 required for their accomplishment. If it is asked why we have 
 nothing of that standard at the present day, I cannot do better 
 than to quote from the same author, who says : 
 
 29. " Everything is subject to eternal change ; and when 
 things cannot exist together, they thrust one another aside. 
 The same is true of knowledge, of the training of certain prac- 
 tices, of modes of representation, and of maxims. The objects 
 of men remain daily always the same. The man still desires to 
 be a good artist, a good poet, just as he did in past ages ; but 
 the means by which the same objects are obtained are not 
 apparent to all, and why should we deny that nothing would be 
 more agreeable than to bring about great designs in sport ? 
 
20 STUDY OF AKT. 
 
 30. "The public has naturally a great influence upon art; 
 and, in return for its applause and its money, it expects a work 
 that shall afford it unmixed satisfaction and pleasure, and the 
 artist, for the most part, is happy to accommodate himself to this 
 expectation ; for he, too, is a part of the public. He received 
 his cultivation in the same days and years, he feels the same 
 wants, his efforts have the same direction, and thus he consents to 
 accompany the multitude that carries him on, and that he animates. 
 
 31. " Thus, we have seen whole nations and epochs enchanted 
 with their artists, and artists, in their turn, mirrored in their 
 nation and their age*, without either having the least suspicion 
 that their way was perhaps not the true way, their taste at least 
 partial, their art on the decline, their efforts wrongly directed."- 
 
 32. This passage naturally suggests several questions ; and 
 we ask what is the true way, and the true taste, and the true 
 standard of excellence in art ? And why does one work of art 
 out-live another, and become as it were immortal ? And what 
 excellence have these works of art that is wanting in the perish- 
 able ? I answer : the true way is to work by rules founded 
 upon the laws of nature. The true standard of excellence, or 
 merit, has these same rules for its foundation. The imperishable 
 works of art are the ideal : those that " seem at once natural and 
 super-natural." The perishable are the attempt at the real by 
 a too close imitation of nature. 
 
 33. The feeling or taste, in the human mind, that is gratified 
 by ideal representation, may be better analyzed and defined by 
 the moral philosopher than the artist. That it does exist, and 
 demands gratification, is proved by the productions of all na- 
 tions, from time immemorial. Some little investigation on this 
 point would be exceedingly interesting, showing the progress of 
 the ideal in art, the foundation of the different tastes evinced by 
 its productions in the different stages of civilization, and among 
 different people. One thing seems true in regard to it, and 
 that is, that the ideal representations of every age of the world 
 
 * Essays on Art, by Goethe, translated by Sam. Gray Ward. 
 
IMITATION. 21 
 
 are more or less pleasing to those that follow. Take, for 
 instance, the ideal representations of animals as they are adapted 
 to various household furniture, and the like ; or the Arabesque 
 ornaments formed of the leaves of plants idealized. They 
 afford gratification to the lover of the beautiful at the present 
 day, and are often borrowed by various artisans. 
 
 34. Every one is familiar with the story giving the origin of 
 the Corinthian order of architecture. The artist who took his hint 
 from the basket overgrown with leaves would have failed en- 
 tirely in his attempt by closely imitating the thing itself, instead 
 of which he idealized the subject presented to his notice, adapt- 
 ing it to a specific object, and produced a work of artistic beauty 
 that will be forever preserved, giving pleasure to the beholder, 
 so long as time shall last. 
 
 35. The Eagle, as the attribute of Jupiter, is an ideal con- 
 ception of great beauty, representing that bird as much superior 
 to nature as the god was to common mortals; hence, the 
 universal admiration it excites, and perhaps its frequent adop- 
 tion by various nations as an emblem of power. 
 
 36. Look at those great master-pieces from the hand of the 
 sculptor ; those wonderful productions of art so full of ideal 
 beauty ! They will command the admiration of the world for 
 ages to come, as they have done for centuries past. Color, too, 
 must have its ideal beauty. In discussing pictures, we talk of 
 the magic of color. The same term is never applied to the 
 works of nature. What is this magic, but the artist's ideal ? At 
 the same time, the lines of beauty and the combination of tints 
 must be true to nature, or they will fail to please. But, simple 
 truth of imitation, be it ever so pleasing, will not insure immor- 
 tality. Ideal beauty, and that alone, lends an unfading charm 
 to works of art. 
 
 37. It is true, painting is strictly an imitative art ; but mere 
 imitation, or, more properly, copy, can never touch the feelings. 
 The artist must give to his work the impress of his own mind, 
 his own conception of the character, or subject, that he handles. 
 His aim should be to make the resemblance of an object, and 
 
22 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 invest it with some new interest, and not afac simile; for the 
 eye wearies of repetition, and must be relieved by an appeal to 
 the imagination. According to his estimate of the character of 
 art, and the power of his own capacity, the artist will decide on 
 imitation or copy. If, by the medium of lines and colors, light 
 and shade, he gives expression to some fine sentiment, some 
 true feeling that meets a response in the hearts of others, his 
 picture becomes a cherished work of art. On the contrary, if he 
 is incapable of anything beyond mechanical copying, let his skill 
 in that department be consummate, his picture is mere paint, 
 can gratify none but those familiar with the object represented, 
 will live its little day, and be forgotten with its author. 
 
 38. The servile copyist, whose pride seems to be an exhibi- 
 tion of purely mechanical skill, instead of attempting to imitate 
 Nature, tries to make a duplicate of her works. This being 
 impossible, his effort results in failure. The hand of man may 
 repeat a work that has already been accomplished by human 
 art, but, to make a duplicate of Nature, is beyond the utmost 
 effort of his skill. The artificial flower, in the making of which, 
 both the form and color may be combined, is perhaps the near- 
 est approach to it. Still, the fibre and perfume are wanting 
 the life that nature alone can give. To make a resemblance of 
 the same thing on a flat surface, different rules of imitation 
 must be observed. 
 
 39. Colored statues and wax figures, belonging to the same 
 class, are so like life, when vitality and the power of locomotion 
 are wanting, that the sight of them produces the most disagreeable 
 sensations. It is impossible to invest them with any ideal im- 
 pression that might excite a pleasurable feeling. They can be 
 nothing but stark, staring figures, and having the semblance of 
 humanity, with none of its characteristics, they seem but a 
 mockery of the race, and we turn from them in disgust. 
 
 40. " Identical repetition is not the end and aim of art. The 
 very essence of imitation is to represent reality by its appear- 
 ance alone. Reproducing the precise resemblance of an object 
 destroys the effect intended by imitation, which should always 
 
IMITATION. 23 
 
 furnish occasion for comparison, for this is the foundation of the 
 pleasure it affords ; and no artist understands the nature of 
 imitation, who attempts to produce an exact copy, instead of 
 the resemblance of an object." In a poetic image we look for 
 the resemblance to truth, and not the truth itself, and this truth 
 of resemblance is the fundamental principle of all the imitative 
 arts. In the art of painting, harmony and effect require that 
 the lights, shades, and colors should differ from those in nature. 
 Nature has its own peculiar charms bestowed by the Great 
 Creator, but the charm of every work of art must be the gift 
 of the artist. Borrowing nature's choicest beauties will not 
 make an artistic picture. Each has its own province, and the 
 foolish fear of sacrificing the truth of nature to the beauty of 
 art, betrays an ignorance of the laws that govern both. The 
 pleasure we derive from nature is in its reality; the great 
 charm of art is in the fictitious imitation of nature, by which a 
 resemblance is produced on the same principles. That is, in 
 obedience to the same laws of beauty, symmetry, and harmony 
 that govern all nature's works. A copy is but a repetition, 
 while a true work of imitation bears some impress from the 
 mind of the artist, and by the medium he has chosen, he con- 
 veys to the mind of another his conception of the subject repre- 
 sented. In other words, his idea, hence the term ideal in art. 
 
 41. The artist who sculptured the Apollo embodied his own 
 idea of physical beauty in its full development, and also his 
 conception of the attributes of the god. The statue of Minerva 
 embodies the artist's idea of wisdom, etc., and in all statues of 
 their deities, the Grecians embodied the quiet dignity that 
 should characterize the consciousness of super-human power. 
 It is this air of repose that so decidedly distinguishes them 
 from all other productions of art, all other imitations, how- 
 ever beautiful, and entitles them to the appellation of god-like. 
 
 42. The laws that govern the practice of the fine arts are 
 universal. Giotto, Phidias, Michael Angelo, and Raffaelle, the 
 most famous artists the world has ever produced, excelled in 
 architectural designs. The belfry of the Cathedral of Flor- 
 
24 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 ence, so much admired, was the work of Giotto. Phidias was 
 the architect of the Parthenon ; Michael Angelo of the famous 
 St. Peter's at Rome, and Raffaelle planned all the ornamental 
 designs of the Vatican. By this universality of law, the arts 
 are all linked together in intimate and inseparable union and 
 harmony, and each one when truly understood, reveals beauties 
 in another that are lost to those whose taste and knowledge are 
 limited to one alone. To excel in the practice of each, requires 
 the same abilities, and the great poet, like the great painter, is 
 distinguished, not so much by uncommon powers of mind, as by 
 an uncommon combination of powers, designated by the name 
 of genius ; free imagination, fine sentiment, both moral and 
 intellectual, clear discrimination, philosophical reasoning, sound 
 judgment, are all essential to the best productions of ideal art. 
 With imagination, perception, and judgment, an artist may pro- 
 duce works of a high order, but if his mind is deficient in 
 philosophical power, he can be neither a great poet, nor a great 
 painter, for true philosophy is the foundation of all true art. 
 "With these powers of mind, the author expresses his concep- 
 tions, either in rythmical language, sounds, forms, or colors, as 
 may be most agreeable to his taste, or rather the feelings that 
 actuate him. With the same impulse he chooses the subject 
 of his work, and the world is then enriched by the great pro- 
 duction of a great mind, that bears the impress of original 
 power and beauty. 
 
 43. It has often been remarked how much assistance the 
 young artist may derive from the photographic art. Yes, just 
 the same that a student of language derives from a translation. 
 Give to a young artist thorough instruction in the principles 
 as well as the practice of form, and light and shade, and he 
 needs no aid from the photographic art, or any other forms of 
 mechanism. In resorting to the use of them he acknowledges 
 his own deficiencies and weakness, and so long as he depends 
 upon the aid they give, he is but a feeble copyist, entirely des- 
 titute of artistic knowledge and skill, incapable of producing 
 works of ordinary merit, much less those bearing the stamp of 
 
IMITATION. 25 
 
 ideal beauty in any form of imitation. In this point of view, 
 photography, instead of being a great aid to artists, or in any 
 way promoting the progress of art, contributes materially to its 
 degeneracy. It is one thing to copy nature, and quite another 
 to compose a picture according to the rules of imitative art 
 founded upon the laws of nature, and in considering the ele- 
 ments of composition, we shall find that the imagination, judg- 
 ment, and extensive knowledge essential, to the poet, are no less 
 essential to the painter. It is true, the mediums by which 
 they produce the impressions they intend to convey are very 
 different, yet the same powers and abilities are essential to 
 success, for the works of both are equally addressed to the 
 heart and the intellect. 
 
 44. Design demands all the ideal of art ; for the expression of 
 a fine poetical conception cannot be truly given without the repre- 
 sentation of ideal beauty in the forms, light and shade, and color, 
 according to the character and the peculiar tones and tints required 
 by the subject chosen. It will be seen at once that, to give his own 
 conception of the scene selected, the artist must imitate objects 
 that will serve to tell the story, or express the action of each 
 party introduced in the picture. A mere copy will not answer 
 his purpose ; for, as we have already said, " the mind craves 
 new impressions," and, to meet this demand, the artist must 
 extend his skill, and impart to his characters some idea or con- 
 ception of his own. The elements of beauty, essential to design, 
 he will find in nature ; but, if he would secure the approbation 
 and favor that he covets, he must repeat them in a pleasing 
 form of imitation. Lanzi remarks "that, in ornamental arts, 
 such as poetry and painting, mankind are more easily satisfied 
 with mediocrity in knowledge than with mediocrity in the art 
 of pleasing." This art of pleasing is the great secret of suc- 
 cess. " When Juno, the reigning queen of Heaven, the large 
 eyed, the white armed, wished to gain complete ascendancy 
 over Jupiter, she borrowed Venus' mysterious girdle, or, in 
 other words, the graceful art of pleasing." Ideal beauty is the 
 mysterious charm with which the artist captivates the senses 
 
 2 
 
26 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 and enchants the beholder, and he will find that the most 
 laborious application and study, and the exercise of his best 
 powers in giving to his work grace of form, beauty of feature, 
 and truth of expression, will not lead to a world-wide fame if he 
 fails in this essential requisite of art. 
 
 45. This consummation of excellence is not attained, until 
 the artist has so mastered the rules that must guide his practice 
 that, in the execution of his work, he conceals all evidence of 
 labor. The perfection of Moore's sweetest melodies is said to 
 have cost him hours of close study. Sheridan's manuscripts show 
 the same careful labor ; and Goethe, the power of whose genius 
 is universally acknowledged, said : " Nothing ever came to me 
 in my sleep." The labor of each of these writers is so entirely 
 concealed, that we are ready to believe that their works cost 
 them no effort beyond that of an ordinary penman ; and it is 
 this rare attainment, the art of concealing art, that leads to the 
 erroneous belief in the inspiration of genius, that not only fur- 
 nishes ideas to the gifted, but the mechanism essential to their 
 right expression. Every composer who obeys his native instinct, 
 labors until he has satisfied his own sense of the true, and the 
 beautiful, and the harmonious, before he can feel that his work 
 is finished. And here lies the great difference in authors, pain- 
 ters, and musical composers. Let any one depend upon what 
 he considers inspiration, or pander to a taste foreign to his own, 
 and, as a necessary consequence, he loses the true and unerring 
 guide of nature, becomes weak in purpose, when he should have 
 grown strong, and feeble in execution, when, if true to himself, 
 he might have become powerful. 
 
 46. The uneducated savage, from the necessity of self-re- 
 liance, preserves the strong instincts given him by nature. 
 Remove him from this state of existence, giving him the benefit 
 of scientific knowledge, these instincts soon desert him, and he 
 no longer relies upon their dictates. And thus it is with the 
 powers of the mind : their growth and energy depend upon the 
 self-reliance of their possessor ; for the leading direction of one's 
 own spirit substitute some extraneous guide, the mental action 
 
IMITATION. 27 
 
 inevitably becomes tame, feeble, and spiritless ; and the artist 
 who would give a marked character to his work must not de- 
 pend on imitating other's imitations, or on forming his style after 
 other minds. The native powers acknowledge no such al- 
 legiance, and, by their inaction in such service, refuse as it were 
 to sanction the suicidal treachery of self-desertion. 
 
 47. The Greeks excelled in beauty of form, so peculiarly 
 their own art, that their works are recognized at a glance. 
 Michael Angelo excelled in the grand style, but where shall we 
 look for the works of art from which he modeled ? And who 
 but the Great Creator could have furnished models for the 
 seraphic beauty of Raffaelle's Madonnas ? These artists had 
 their followers and imitators who soon degenerated to man- 
 nerism. In the works of nature, life and vitality are extended 
 from the root to the branches. Not so in art : she sends forth 
 no flourishing and fruit-bearing branches ; and in whatever age or 
 country art has sprung up and taken root, in any form of devel- 
 opment, then and there alone we may look for its perfection. 
 Art is universal, but strictly indigenous and local in character, 
 and springing as it does from nations so different in tastes and 
 habits, and particularly in religious culture, by which art is 
 ever influenced, it cannot be reproduced in another age, or on 
 a foreign soil. Its growth requires the same influence that 
 gave it birth, and if transplanted under another atmosphere, 
 assumes a modified form, entirely wanting in that originality 
 which is its life. 
 
 48. If the paintings of the ancient Greeks had been pre- 
 served as well as their statuary, would the Italian artists of the 
 fifteenth century have attained the same excellence as painters ? 
 For their pictures they had no " antique models," and like the 
 Greeks must find in nature the principles that are necessary 
 to a successful practice of art ; and all people, of every nation 
 and of every age, who would secure a lasting fame to their 
 works, must drink deeply at the same fountain of knowledge. 
 Ignorance accomplishes nothing; earns no immortality; but 
 science, profoundly versed in the immutable laws of nature, 
 
28 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 makes truth the foundation of every work of imitative art, and 
 a poetic taste adds the ideal beauty essential to its completion. 
 
 49. The genuine productions of every nation exhibit a know- 
 ledge of the most essential element of art, that is, harmony. 
 Harmony of effect in the whole, redeems the faults of parts ; and 
 it is this, and this alone, that makes any combination pleasing to 
 the eye. The works of the Chinese, for instance, have a certain 
 harmony of parts that stamps their merit ; and, though they may 
 not afford decided gratification, yet, so long as they preserve 
 their characteristic harmony, will never offend the eye. (c) The 
 same remark will apply to the Egyptian, Phoenician, etc. At 
 the same time, the artistic works of each nation are so distinct 
 in character as to be recognized at a glance, even when modi- 
 fied to the taste that was formed centuries after their production. 
 This is fully illustrated by Layard, who, in his Assyrian re- 
 searches, has brought to light many specimens of artistic works, 
 which probably furnished models to the artists and architects of 
 ancient Greece. 
 
 50. Another most essential element of imitation is freedom ; 
 that freedom of mind and hand which belongs to none but those 
 who have mastered the principles and practice of art. Then, 
 the mind and hand work in unison, and the mechanical means 
 used are like pen and ink in the hand of the poet, and occupy 
 no more attention ; neither do they give character to the work 
 produced, being entirely subordinate to the spirit that gives 
 them direction. Allston says : " The materials of the artist are 
 the work of Him who created the artist himself; but over these, 
 which his senses and mind are given him to observe and collect, 
 he has a delegated power, for the purpose of combining and 
 modifying, as unlimited as it is mysterious. It is by the agency 
 of this imitative and assimilating power that he is able to 
 separate the essential from the accidental, to proceed also from 
 a part to the whole, thus educing, as it were an ideal nature, 
 from the germs of the actual." This observation applies to 
 ancient artists, who, with these materials, over which man has, 
 
IMITATION. 29 
 
 in the words of Allston, " a delegated power," imitated nature, 
 and artists of the present day, combining and modifying by 
 different means, imitate their works. The Parian statuettes 
 are an imitation of marble, repeating in miniature form some of 
 the antique statues. The gelatine, so called, is an imitation of 
 carved ivory. The Gobelin tapestry is an imitation of pictures. 
 The materials used in these various productions differ so much 
 from that employed in the original models, that they, by a new 
 form of imitation, gratify the natural craving of the mind for 
 new impressions, and thus one of the important purposes of art 
 is accomplished. Still, the imitation of an imitation, must ever 
 be wanting in that informing spirit that stamps the value of an 
 original and ideal production, and which alone gives immortality 
 to the finite works of man. 
 
 51. We find artists classed as idealists, naturalists and man- 
 nerists, according to their method of practice, or made of imi- 
 tation. 
 
 52. The number of ideal artists is exceedingly limited. 
 Michael Angelo, Raffaelle, Francia and Corregio are among the 
 most eminent. Taking for a guide the rules of art, founded on 
 the laws of nature, they expressed in their works their own 
 conceptions of truth and of beauty. They take the highest rank 
 among painters, for the same reason that poetry takes the 
 highest rank among the fine arts ; that is, their works are the 
 farthest removed from the reality of nature. 
 
 53. Artists designated as naturalists suppose that the nearer 
 they approach to the appearance of nature, the better their 
 works ; and, by thus confounding imitation and copy, fail in their 
 efforts to give pleasure. This is because the falsity of the work 
 of art is made too palpable by the reality that surrounds it. 
 " The artist," says De Quincy, " must never lose sight of the 
 fact that nature is real, and the imitation of it, fictious. To 
 counterfeit nature is not to imitate her. The fruitless attempt 
 at identical similarity belies and foils itself, and is worthy of 
 no other name than that of counterfeit, mimicry or parody. 
 
30 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 Reality, life, motion, are the prerogatives of nature. It is by 
 these means that she gives pleasure. Art gives pleasure with- 
 out life and reality. Her province is, to supply the place of 
 reality by its representation." 
 
 54. Many excellent artists combine idealism with naturalism, 
 and, selecting their models from people by whom they are sur- 
 rounded, their representations of character, in any subject 
 chosen, are more or less individual. This shows a limited 
 power ; and, however meritorious the mechanical skill exhibited 
 in these compositions, they can never rank with the truly ideal. 
 To this class, belong Titian, Carravagio, Rembrandt, the Caracci, 
 and many others. 
 
 55. Mannerists depend upon copying the works, or imitating 
 the style of those artists whose superior skill has given them the 
 greatest fame. "The fluctuations in the progress of art, at 
 different periods, and its final decline, may be principally attri- 
 buted to mannerism and the mannerists ;" or, in other words, to 
 the imitators of imitators. They can imitate the works of other 
 artists without possessing any true knowledge of the subject, and 
 art has degenerated in proportion to the ignorance of the rules 
 that should govern its practice. A thorough knowledge of these 
 is essential to both artists and people ; for the character and 
 progress of art depends upon an appreciative public. If na- 
 tural taste guides the artist in the execution of his work, and 
 there is no appeal to any other criterion, his merits must ever 
 remain a disputed point ; for the merits of a work cannot be 
 fairly estimated without reference to some standard of right, 
 some criterion of excellence. 
 
 56. An author, for instance, publishes a book which conies 
 before the notice of the people. The majority of readers are 
 sufficiently familiar with the rules of language and composition 
 to detect any egregious errors or blunders on those points ; and, 
 if the object of the work is to illustrate either mental or physi- 
 cal laws, its truth is tried by reference to the established laws 
 of nature. So, in a building erected after a certain order of 
 architecture, if any question arises as to the beauties or defects 
 
IMITATION. 31 
 
 of the construction, immediate reference is made to the rules of 
 the order. A composition of music is written under the juris- 
 diction of certain laws of time and harmony, the violation of 
 which destroys all effect in the performance of the piece. But, 
 in judging of pictures, or statuary, how few refer to any standard 
 of rules ! We hear connoisseurs refer to the antique and the 
 old masters, and, so far, they are right. But, why were the 
 ancient masters so superior to the modern ? And how is it that 
 their works stand the test of ages, and have served as models to 
 many succeeding generations ? It is because they worked ac- 
 cording to rules founded upon the laws of nature. 
 
 57. The history of art shows that artists were a long time in 
 finding out these rules of imitation. Many generations of men 
 practiced the arts, and passed away before anything like per- 
 fection was attained. A modern writer remarks that " Italy 
 had artists of eminence coeval with Dante and Boccacio ; her 
 national style of painting had taken firm root before her lan- 
 guage was formed, or generally cultivated ; her advancement in 
 intellectual refinement may be traced through either of these 
 mediums." Progress in art kept pace with progress in civiliza- 
 tion. Each influenced the other, and artists found that they 
 must perfect their skill in proportion to the advancements in 
 science ; and, in turn, they, by their works, influenced the taste 
 of the people, till finally, the productions of successive artists 
 excited and educated, as it were, a public taste that demanded 
 gratification. The people had learned to love that ideal beauty, 
 which is found only in the highest productions of art. In 
 following its history, we see how artists gratified the people by 
 their works, and the people the artists by a just appreciation of 
 them. This influence was felt by the best men of the time, 
 which, no doubt, gave direction to minds of the highest order 
 and ability. Then, those great pictures were produced, that for 
 centuries, have been the admiration of the world, and the mo- 
 dels for artists ; and such was the effect of these productions 
 upon the people, that the best artists of the time were chosen 
 to make ornamental designs for buildings and manufactures ; for 
 
32 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 a taste so cultivated demanded artistic excellence in every work 
 that was intended to gratify the eye. 
 
 58. Lanzi says, " that among Raffaelle's most remarkable 
 works, may be mentioned his designs for tapestries in the papal 
 chapel, the subjects of which are from the lives of the Evan- 
 gelists, and the Acts of the Apostles. The cartoons for them 
 both were designed and colored by Raffaelle. In these tapes- 
 tries, the art attained the highest point of excellence, nor has 
 the world since beheld anything to equal them in beauty. 
 They are annually exposed in the great portico of St. Peters, 
 in the procession of the Corpus Domini ; and it is wonderful to 
 behold the flocks that crowd to see them, and who ever regard 
 them with fresh avidity and delight. 
 
 59. " Raffaelle's designs were not limited to historical subjects, 
 for his taste and genius directed all the ornamental parts of the 
 Vatican. He selected the style of ornament suited to every 
 part of it, and thus made the Pope's residence a model of taste 
 for all Europe. He made designs for the stuccoes in the new 
 galleries of the palace, and the various subjects there painted. 
 He then appointed Giovanni Udini to finish the stuccoes, and 
 Julio Romano the figures, and no part of the Vatican was com- 
 pleted without his superintendence. He directed the pavements 
 and doors, and all the interior works of the palace. For the 
 entablatures of the chambers, and for several of the windows 
 and doors, he employed a celebrated Florentine engraver of 
 gems. This work was executed in so masterly a manner, that 
 Louis XIII., wishing to ornament the palace of the Louvre, 
 had all these intaglios separately copied. The drawings were 
 made by Poussin, and Mariette boasted of having them in his 
 collection. Nor was there any other work, either of stone or 
 marble, for which a design was required, that did not come 
 under the inspection of Raffaelle, and on which he did not im- 
 press his taste, which was consummate also in the sister art of 
 sculpture. 
 
 60. " Feltrino, a Florentine artist, was famous for his deco- 
 rative inventions, and no artist of his time was so much 
 
IMITATION. 33 
 
 employed in designing foliage for brocades, or in ornamental 
 painting. Cosimo, also, drew most elegant small historical 
 designs for tapestry and beds, which were executed by his 
 brother Antonio, and also by Rossi and Fiaminghi, who in- 
 troduced the art of tapestry weaving into Florence. They 
 wrought from the designs of Pontormo and Bronzino. They 
 also wrought for the duke of Ferrara, after the designs of Julio 
 Romano, Raffaelle's best pupil." * 
 
 * Lanzi. 
 
 2* 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 TASTE AND STYLE. 
 
 61. THOSE mental faculties called sentiments, are like the 
 reasoning addressed through the medium of the senses. Their 
 gratification constitutes what are called pleasures of taste. 
 
 62. Taste is the palate of the mind, and, like the physical 
 palate, accepts and relishes whatever is adapted to its peculiar 
 organization. It also decides the choice of pursuit, as the phy- 
 sical taste decides the choice of food. 
 
 63. The tastes, or sentiments, are developed with the mental 
 faculties, and their formation depends upon the kind and degree 
 of cultivation received from the influence of other minds, and 
 the association of surrounding objects. The determination 
 given to taste is called style. 
 
 64. The pleasures of taste are more or less varied, more or 
 less acute, according to the power and delicacy of the percep- 
 tive faculties. If sentiments of beauty, of grandeur, and of 
 sublimity exist in the mind, gratification and pleasure arise 
 from the contemplation of certain objects that excite emotions 
 peculiar to these sentiments. Hence, those objects are termed 
 beautiful, or grand, or sublime. The aim of the poet, the mu- 
 sician, or painter is, by the power of his art, to excite senti- 
 ments of beauty and of sublimity, and thus contribute still 
 more to the pleasures of taste. 
 
 65. With reference to works of art, three kinds of taste may 
 be defined : the natural, the cultivated, and the national. 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 35 
 
 66. The natural taste, however modified, always manifests 
 itself. In some minds, it is stronger and more decided than in 
 others. Still, the best natural taste requires cultivation, and is 
 matured only by study and a comparison of works of art. 
 
 67. Individual tastes are indicated at an early period of life. 
 We observe the youngest children making a selection in their 
 toys ; some taking delight in color, others in form ; and, as their 
 minds become more developed, these tastes are more strongly 
 marked. The natural tastes may be improved and matured by 
 culture, or smothered and blighted in the vain attempt to culti- 
 vate tastes that have no root. This effort results in failure and 
 disappointment, for the natural and artificial cannct exist to- 
 gether. One must give place to the other. The productions of 
 an artificial taste are marked by an affected mannerism, while 
 those of the natural taste exhibit an original and characteristic 
 style. Taste is more or less subject to extraneous influence. 
 Style is formed at maturity. 
 
 68. Tastes called cultivated, and the philosophy of their gra- 
 tification from works of art imitating nature, can only be ex- 
 plained by a knowledge of the principles that govern the adap- 
 tation of nature's works to the wants of man. That is, the mind 
 is constituted with certain appetites to which the productions of 
 nature so exactly correspond as to satisfy their craving for 
 beauty in variety, and variety in beauty. Hence, nature never 
 repeats herself. Grand and striking scenes, or objects that 
 excite the strongest emotions are the most rare. Gorgeous and 
 brilliant colors that weary or overpower the eye, are fleeting 
 and evanescent. Hence, nature never satiates. 
 
 69. We have previously said that true philosophy is the foun- 
 dation of all true art, and the artist, be he poet, musician, or 
 painter, who is unable to distinguish between the various facul- 
 ties or powers of the mind, or the right manner of addressing 
 them, may, in his effort to excite pleasure, so dazzle the senses, 
 that he will not reach the sentiments to which they are only the 
 medium. The success of his labor depends so much upon 
 native ability, that no rule can guide him beyond that of being 
 
36 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 governed by the principles found in nature. He will soon learn 
 that the sentiments cannot be touched by what appears on the 
 surface. Mind must speak to mind, and heart to heart. u Deep 
 must call unto deep." By the aid of the reasoning powers, 
 discrimination is made between the true and the false in art, as 
 well as the wholesome and the deleterious, (for the mental 
 palate, like the physical, may become vitiated,) and the final 
 decision is given by the judgment, the last faculty of the mind 
 that attains maturity. 
 
 70. A question of taste sometimes becomes a matter of dis- 
 pute, in which case it can only be decided by an appeal to the 
 laws of truth. Then, arises the question, what is truth ? Ac- 
 cording to Hick ok, " the truth, in anything, is that which dis- 
 tinguishes it from all other things, and, thus, that which is its 
 truth, cannot be truth in anything beside. Truth particularizes 
 its object ; therefore, a general criterion of truth is an absur- 
 dity." * 
 
 71. With regard to beauty, or the beautiful, in art, no stan- 
 dard will serve either for individual or national taste. Beauty 
 is an intuitive perception or sentiment. If it is not implanted 
 by nature, no influence or instruction can impart it, for no laws 
 can define beauty, no theory can establish it. Much has been 
 said and written upon the subject of beauty, yet no standard has 
 been established to which the world agrees to refer. Every 
 one points to his own ; and to all who do not acknowledge it to 
 be the true one, we are apt to say : " You are not a person of 
 taste." 
 
 72. All works of art are best appreciated and enjoyed by 
 minds kindred to those that produced them. To a person of 
 refinement, coarseness cannot give pleasure. On the contrary, 
 a vulgar mind enjoys nothing delicate ; to such, the delicate is 
 not the beautiful. The mere utilitarian takes no pleasure in the 
 decorative and the ornamental : he is gratified with nothing but 
 
 * Hickok's Rational Psychology. 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 37 
 
 the useful ; and, in his estimation, no work of art can equal in 
 beauty a labor-saving machine. We must, then, come to the 
 conclusion, that the sentiment of beauty in the mind of each 
 individual, regulates the standard claimed by him to be the true 
 one. Hence, the impossibility of establishing one for universal 
 adoption. It must be individual, and regulated by the natural 
 cast of mind, by cultivation, and by association. 
 
 73. The sentiments form the key note to the intellect and the 
 affections. In their different tones, we find as great a variety 
 as in the different orders of talent. The most refined and de- 
 licate belong to minds of the higher order, and are the most 
 rare. It is only to minds of this cast that we look for the best 
 productions of art ; those that please the eye, gratify the un- 
 derstanding, touch the heart, and elevate the soul with a feeling 
 of awe at the Omniscient Power that imparts such varied and 
 wonderful gifts to the mind of man. There is a fullness of 
 pleasure in this excitement of many sensations or perceptions ; 
 w y e are thrilled with delight, and expatiate upon the beauty of 
 the work that produced them. To those who enjoy it, it is 
 beauty. To those who do not a dead letter, an unmeaning blank. 
 
 74. The works of the Grecian artists show how assiduously 
 they cultivated the beautiful. The stimulus to this pursuit was 
 making statues of their deities, and erecting temples to their 
 honor ; or, rather, this was their object, and the stimulus, the 
 reward of immortality inculcated in their religious belief, and 
 which, at that time, was coveted by people of every grade, more 
 than any other gift of the gods. The national religion was a 
 subject that would enlist the feelings of the whole people. In 
 every community, religious faith is a common bond of interest, 
 and artists could not have chosen any subject for the display of 
 their knowledge, and the extent of their skill, that would have 
 had an equal influence on the multitude. No other would have 
 excited that universal sympathy, which is necessary to the ac- 
 complishment of great public works. 
 
 75. The opinion is often advanced that we are indebted to 
 the idolatry of the Greeks for those master pieces of art that 
 
38 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 still furnish models of beauty to the world. It is also said that 
 the sacred purpose of the pictures found in the Roman churches 
 called forth the best powers of the artists of that time ; and thus 
 it is supposed that, to the religious influences of both periods, 
 we are indebted for those works of art that charm the unbeliever 
 no less than the devotee. The religion of ancient Greece has 
 passed away, and, with it the glory thereof. The religion of 
 Rome is the same now that it was in the days of Raffaelle and 
 Michael Angelo, and probably the devotees of the church would 
 be unwilling to acknowledge any decrease in religious zeal or 
 enthusiasm. How, then, can we account for the difference in 
 the artistic skill of the past and the present ? We have the 
 same materials at command, and the same incentives to use 
 them. But have we the same age of learning that history 
 reveals among both the Greeks and the Romans, at those 
 periods when their arts were in the highest state of cultivation? 
 Do not the works of all nations and of every age show that it is 
 the taste of the time, and not the religious feeling alone that 
 stamps the character of art ? And does not the history of the 
 arts prove that their promotion, everywhere, depends upon the 
 degree of cultivation among the people by whom they are pro- 
 duced, more than upon their religious worship ? 
 
 76. It is true, religion and art have gone hand in hand; but 
 the taste of the Grecians was formed while they were studying 
 the sciences as well as painting, sculpture, and music, which 
 were considered necessary branches of education. Each one, 
 no doubt, sheds light and improvement upon the rest; and the 
 judgment, formed by high mental culture, modifies and improves 
 the taste, till it finds no relish for inferior works of art, or any 
 form of meretricious ornament. If proof were wanting of the 
 influence of that general taste called public, many might be 
 produced, and also of the influence of surrounding objects in 
 forming the taste of the uneducated part of the community. 
 How was it possible for the ignorant to see daily such works as 
 the Parthenon in its best days, and such a multitude of statues, 
 tripods, and all the most finished works of art, without acquiring 
 
TASTK AM) STYLE. 89 
 
 a love for the beautiful? And feeling, too, that they also 
 shared in the national glory, they could not be indifferent to 
 the beauty of the works that so distinguished their country. 
 
 77. The style which characterizes the work of an artist, as 
 well as the style of an author, depends upon the character of 
 his own mind. The rules of form, light and shade, and color, 
 bear the same relation to art, as the rules of spelling, grammar, 
 and composition to authorship ; and the writer can as well dispense 
 with the rules of language as the artist with the rules of art. At 
 the same time, in the productions of both, there may be a strict 
 observance of rules and yet nothing produced that will make an 
 impression either upon the reader of the one, or the spectator of 
 the other. Again, works are produced by both that suit but a 
 limited class of individuals. Very few are eminently popular. 
 In an extensive community, there are many tastes to be grati- 
 fied. But few enjoy the grand style of Michael Angelo, or 
 appreciate the power of Rubens. Raffaelle is the most popu- 
 lar of all great painters, as Shakespeare of all dramatic writers, 
 the secret of which is, perhaps, that they both imitated general, 
 and not individual nature ; and, guided by those principles that 
 are the foundation of artistic excellence, rather than the prece- 
 dents of others, each imparted to his works the impress of his 
 own immortal spirit, by which they are made vivid and im- 
 perishable. 
 
 78. At the present day, there are but few artists whose style 
 was not formed by copying the works of others, which is death 
 to all originality. Tis true, an artist derives great advantage 
 from the study of those works that furnish a standard of excel- 
 lence in art, as well as the writer in studying the classics. The 
 error is in copying too closely. Does not history prove that 
 great artists had no predecessors in their own sphere, whose 
 works could have been taken by them as models ? And we 
 shall in vain look for anything new or original, so long as artists 
 are confined to models. Let them study nature, take her laws 
 for a guide, and then rely on the strength of their own abili- 
 
40 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 ties, as the great have done before them, and works as great 
 will be again produced. Not precisely the same in character, for 
 no two periods of the world are precisely alike, and men of all 
 ages are influenced, not only by the circumstances of their own 
 time, and the character of the period to which they belong, but 
 they also feel the influences of the past. The ideal beauty of 
 those masterpieces of art, (to which they owe their immortality,) 
 has tempted artists of every succeeding generation to look back, 
 instead of forward, and in that way they have lost the influence 
 of the present by which they were surrounded, and that should 
 have given a style and character to their works, that would 
 mark the age and country to which each one belonged. 
 
 79. NationaHaste is of slow growth, and is characterized by 
 the influences of climate and geographical position, as well as 
 the religious observances of a people, (d) In the maturity of a 
 nation, their style of art becomes definitely formed, and is then 
 characteristic of the people. With regard to this, one thing 
 may be observed, and that is, but one style prevails at any one 
 period of time. The taste for art, in any community, is gra- 
 dually developed and cultivated, passing through successive 
 stages to a complete formation; and, after flourishing for a 
 period, loses its vigor, and finally decays ; for, when both artists 
 and people feel that there is nothing more to be attained, it is 
 impossible that the spirit of art should be preserved ; but the 
 works it has produced still live, as imperishable records of past 
 ages, that prove the power of the Almighty in separating nation 
 from nation, or in blotting them out from the face of the earth, 
 and then, by bringing their works of art to light, show us as it 
 were, that man, with all his powers, is perishable, and He alone 
 is the Infinite, without beginning of days or end of years. 
 
 80. Nothing brings people of other nations so vividly before 
 us as their works of art. They tell us of their religion, of their 
 social dwellings and customs, of their advance in civilization 
 and religious culture. To the study of ancient history, a know- 
 ledge of the arts as practiced by different nations is indispen- 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 41 
 
 sable. Language is more or less subject to change and decay, 
 and the significance of many expressions is lost to those who 
 do not use it as a vernacular tongue. Some people have no 
 written language ; but all have works of art from which something 
 may be learned of their rise, progress, and character as a nation. 
 
 81. The remains of ancient Egyptian and Syrian art prove 
 that their taste was for buildings of immense size, to which 
 their statues corresponded. Restorations, from discoveries 
 made among the ruins of palaces and temples by late explorers, 
 show that the productions of each nation were distinct in cha- 
 racter, and marked by a harmonious beauty peculiarly its own. 
 
 82. The national taste of the Greeks was for beauty of form. 
 That it should have been for form, and statues rather than 
 pictures, may be traced to the religious influence of the early 
 ages. Colors then had a symbolic meaning, and were used 
 only under the restriction of the priesthood. This influence 
 was probably modified in later times. Still, the names of the 
 Greek painters are few, while their works of sculpture are 
 innumerable. In Rome, this restriction in regard to color was 
 not extended to pictures, and, from thence, the art of painting 
 spread to different states and countries. Yet, we find that the 
 works of every people bear the stamp of nationality. 
 
 83. The Greeks prayed the gods that their memories might 
 never die ; and this universal desire for immortality perfected 
 the skill even of the most humble artisan. The whole nation 
 were incited by the same powerful and elevating motive, and, 
 in the superior beauty of their works, we see the result of its 
 influence. With this feeling, the whole nation sympathized; 
 and the names of those who had distinguished themselves by 
 superior skill or excellence in any department of art, or in any 
 sphere of life, were handed down century after century, and 
 have reached our own time, even from remote periods. 
 
 84. Winckleman says : " We know, even at this day, the 
 name of the architect of an aqueduct on the isle of Samos, and 
 
42 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 of him who constructed the largest vessel there ; also the name 
 of Architeles, a famous stone cutter, who excelled in working 
 columns. The names of two weavers, or embroiderers, who 
 wrought a mantle for the Pallas Polias, at Athens, are known ; 
 the name is also preserved of the saddler, as we should call 
 him, who made the leathern shield of Ajax; even a certain 
 Peron, who prepared a fragrant ointment, was noticed in the 
 works of different distinguished men. Plato himself has im- 
 mortalized in his works Thearion, a baker, on account of his 
 skill in his handicraft, as well as Sarambus, a clever inn- 
 keeper. With this view, the Greeks appear to have named 
 many excellent articles after the persons by whom they were 
 made, and the articles were always known by those names. 
 Thus, the vessels that were fashioned similar to those made 
 by Thericles, of burnt clay, in the time of Pericles, received 
 their name from that artist." 
 
 85. At the present day, neither artist nor artisan asks : 
 " Will this work, upon which I have bestowed so much care 
 and labor, secure to me immortal fame ?" The question is : 
 " Will it sell ?" And, from the planning of the work to its 
 completion, he consults the public taste with reference to this 
 one object. A moment's reflection will show that works of art, 
 bearing the same elevated stamp as the statues and pictures of 
 the ancient Greeks and Romans, will not be produced in the 
 present century. The spirit of the age is eminently utilitarian. 
 The sciences are studied, not so much for honor and renown, 
 or the love of learning, as that the knowledge gained may be 
 applied to practical purposes. The stimulus to this application 
 is the hope of an immediate increase of pecuniary profit. The 
 arts, too, are cultivated, but the painter is encouraged and sup- 
 ported only by the munificence of the wealthy, or associations 
 for that express object. The daguerreotypist has nearly su- 
 perseded the portrait painter, for the dispatch with which he 
 accomplishes his work suits the character of the age ; this cha- 
 racter influences the taste of the people, and again the public 
 taste gives direction to the skill of the artist, (e) 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 43 
 
 86. It is frequently said that patronage is all that is needed 
 to secure progress in the arts ; but, in working under the direc- 
 tion of patronage, whether public or private, no man can pre- 
 serve a perfectly independent mind. The two things are incom- 
 patible. Instead of expressing his true thoughts and feelings, 
 the promptings of his own mind and heart, he must be more or 
 less influenced and guided, or probably misguided, by the taste 
 and judgment of others. By patronage, art is reduced to the 
 level of a trade, and all works produced under its direction, 
 bear the stamp, not of genius, but of value received. And, in 
 this prostitution of those powers, which are Heaven's best gift, 
 the finer sensibilities of our nature, the sentiments, that give 
 tone to the mind and character, are irrecoverably lost. A moral 
 death then seems to blight every faculty ; the native powers 
 lose their energy, and we look in vain for any indications of 
 genius, or the maturity of early promise. 
 
 87. The tribunal by which the works of the Grecian artists 
 were approved or condemned had no such influence. They felt 
 the justice of the decision given, for it was founded upon know- 
 ledge ; and, on the same ground, considered the renown gained 
 by approbation, an honorable distinction, and a sufficient reward. 
 It was for this that they labored, and not a pecuniary remune- 
 ration. To the high-minded, honorable distinction is the best 
 and purest impulse. " Honor," says Cicero, " rightly bestowed, 
 nourishes the virtues and all the arts." One thing more must 
 be considered with regard to the artists of that day, and that is, 
 that they worked upon principle. They were not copyists* 
 They had no " antique models," and, therefore, studied nature, 
 learned her laws, and then embodied their own ideas in their 
 own manner, independent of foreign guide or precedent. With- 
 out these universal and eternal principles, which form the basis 
 of all that is beautiful and true, art is wanting in that dignity 
 which should ever characterize her works. 
 
 88. The Etruscans were in advance of Italy in cultivating 
 the arts, which they practiced even before the time of Cadmus. 
 
44 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 Their style of art should be considered as a school and a system 
 rather than as the works of native Etruscan artists. They were 
 a powerful people at least nine hundred years before the Chris- 
 tian era, and, at the foundation of Rome, were far advanced in 
 the arts. 
 
 89. The taste for art was introduced into Rome by their 
 warriors, who carried home pictures, statues and vases from 
 the various Grecian cities, as trophies of their victories. 
 Hence, their plastic works partook more or less of the Grecian 
 character. Their early paintings bear evident marks of the 
 influence of Mosaic pictures upon the style of painting first 
 adopted, particularly in the gilded grounds. 
 
 90. Among the Italians of the fifteenth century, art attained 
 perfection. The taste of the time was for true learning ; and 
 the study of the sciences, so generally cultivated, became im- 
 portant to artists. Thus, the character of the age influenced 
 their minds, and the scientific knowledge then acquired, enabled 
 them to establish the true principles of art, illustrated in their 
 works, and to this they owe their great excellence. Their 
 followers, content with imitating this excellence, instead of 
 learning the principles on which it is founded, have never 
 equalled them in truth to nature, or ideal imitation. 
 
 91. The Dutch and Flemish artists were of a later date. 
 They did not substitute the excellence of others for their own 
 characteristic style, but, following nature, produced works of 
 intrinsic excellence and beauty. 
 
 92. Among the French, the national taste for pageantry and 
 show seems to have given direction to art. The never-ceasing 
 demand for something new, forbids all attempt at repetition, 
 and, at the same time, calls in exercise the abilities of the best 
 designers. 
 
 93. The infinite variety of articles produced by their various 
 artisans, exhibit great inventive powers, and true artistic skill, 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 45 
 
 founded on scientific knowledge. This universal cultivation 
 gives a refinement of taste in whatever pleases the eye ; and the 
 French people look for gratification, not so much in great pro- 
 ductions of art, as in manufactures, decorations, and all articles 
 that come in daily use, and by which they are perpetually sur- 
 rounded. No people are so scientifically correct, and yet so 
 tasteful as the French; and the universal demand for their 
 works, among people of every nation, is not mere fashion ; for, 
 by their combination of truth and of beauty, the taste is grati- 
 fied that was formed to relish the truth and beauty of nature. 
 There is only this difference in the pleasure produced by the 
 two : artificial beauty but touches the surface, gratifies for the 
 moment, till succeeded by some new variety ; the beauties of 
 nature, ever fresh from the hand of the Great Creator, touch 
 the heart, and lead it to the source from whence they came. 
 
 94. The English have no national style. They follow all 
 schools, and copy the works of all masters, and their most origi- 
 nal artists are those who never left their native country to study 
 abroad. Such as Hogarth, Morland and others. Hogarth 
 imitated life among the vicious, both high and low. Morland 
 was both ignorant and vulgar, but painted all kinds of rural 
 scenes with great truth and beauty. He was taught the rules 
 of art by his father, and formed his style from the study of 
 nature, his only model. His taste, which was that of an igno- 
 rant mind, whose whole youth was spent with low associates, 
 dictated the choice of objects. Pigs, domestic animals, and 
 fishermen on the sea shore, variously occupied in the different, 
 departments of their calling, he delineated with truth and spirit, 
 at the same time giving to his work the impress of his own 
 genius. 
 
 95. With ourselves, the national taste remains yet to be 
 formed, and the direction given. If we depend upon imitating 
 the works of our predecessors, we shall have no characteristic 
 style. 
 
4:6 STUDY OP ART. 
 
 96. The rules of art, founded on the laws of nature, form the 
 only true basis for original designs. Let the artist master these, 
 and he may then find his own sphere of labor, and produce 
 new and artistic works, characterized by individual taste and 
 ability. Success depends upon self-reliance. The guiding im- 
 pulses of our nature are not sufficiently regarded by ourselves, 
 or respected by others.. Each one has abilities given him 
 appropriate to a certain sphere. These, he is bound to cultivate 
 and improve, and not depend upon the strength of others to ac- 
 complish what it belongs to him to do. This self-reliance 
 makes the great difference in men. It is not conceit, and should 
 not be confounded with it. The conceited are ever degenerat- 
 ing. The self-relying are always improving, growing stronger 
 and stronger in their own might, till they tower above their 
 compeers, and what they accomplish marks an era in the 
 world's progress. But to men of the strongest capacity, as well 
 as the weakest, whatever art their taste leads them to pursue, 
 a knowledge of rules is indispensable to success. Without their 
 guidance, no artist can attain excellence. 
 
 97. Under a republic, art has many advantages. The whole 
 people then become judges, and it is because the works of art 
 produced are to be judged by the whole people that the emula- 
 tion of artists is stimulated to the highest degree of improve- 
 ment. Grecian art attained its glory under a republic ; and, in 
 Greece, the works of their sculptors were exhibited openly, and 
 the constant contemplation of works of the highest order 
 educated the taste of the people, and qualified them to judge of 
 their merits. 
 
 98. In Italy, where the best specimens of pictorial art were 
 produced that are known to us, some of the finest pictures were 
 painted for the churches, which were open to the whole people, 
 and so intimately associated with their religion as to be a com- 
 mon subject of interest. The contemplation of these pictures 
 formed the taste of the people, and artists felt that the tribunal 
 before which their works appeared, and by whom they were 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 47 
 
 judged, was not a limited number of their own profession, but 
 every member of the republic to which he belonged. 
 
 99. No art can advance where it is not understood and ap- 
 preciated. And, until a better knowledge of the subject is 
 diffused among our people, we shall see little or no improve- 
 ment. In Greece, the arts attained the greatest perfection, and 
 the Grecians were a nation of judges. On this point, Winkle- 
 man observes : " The judges, however, were not unacquainted 
 with the arts ; for there was a time, in Greece, when its youth 
 were taught in the schools of art as well as philosophy : Plato 
 learned drawing at the same time with the higher sciences. 
 The design was, as Aristotle says, that they might acquire a 
 correct knowledge and judgment of beauty." 
 
 100. The festival of the Olympic games, which was the oc- 
 casion for a general gathering from all the Grecian states, 
 afforded the artist an opportunity to present his work before the 
 most competent judges, and this he did, confident that its faults 
 would be freely condemned, and its merits justly appreciated. 
 It was to the whole assembly of people that the artist then 
 looked for a decision. And what stronger stimulus could he 
 have had for the full exertion of his best powers ? At the pre- 
 sent day, the artist looks to his brother artists, who compare 
 themselves among themselves, till they are incapable of distin- 
 guishing the true from the false in art. The highest standard 
 of each one is the merit of his neighbor. Nothing could be 
 more detrimental. It is an essential hindrance to all improve- 
 ment, even in those who possess the best genius. 
 
 101. Ancient art, as it was practiced at different periods of 
 time, will not be again revived, for the character of _art ever 
 depends upon the wants and cultivation of the age in which it 
 is produced. Practical utility is now the great spur of action, 
 and, under its influence, art cannot have the same character 
 as when it was sacred to the gods. In the progress of cultiva- 
 tion, art gradually lost in significance and power what it has 
 gained in grace of form and beauty of finish. When art was 
 
4:8 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 employed as a language, and its productions were emblematical, 
 or symbolical of certain attributes or ideas, beauty was made 
 subordinate to meaning. But, as general knowledge was more 
 diffused, significance became subordinate, and the gratification 
 of the eye a more prominent object of art. 
 
 102. The influence of religious observance, and the power of 
 the priesthood limited the progress of art during many cen- 
 turies. Sculpture did not attain perfection till the time of 
 Pericles ; and painting, among the Europeans, in the fifteenth 
 century. Ever since those periods, art has been enriched by 
 new inventions and new discoveries that have had an important 
 bearing and influence upon national taste and national produc- 
 tions This progress is intimately associated with mechanic 
 inventions, and, indeed, may be considered as resulting from 
 their ] erfection. Dependent upon the application of mechanical 
 power rather than mental, art is no longer individual and ideal. 
 It is more or less mechanical and material, and artists lose 
 their labor in attempting to reproduce works of an ideal cha- 
 racter. The age that gave that stamp is long past, and will not 
 be again revived. During its existence, the principles of 
 science in their application to art were subordinate. Now, they 
 are applied to mechanism, and this mechanism becomes the pro- 
 minent instrument of art, and it is only in this direction that 
 anything new will be accomplished ; for all genuine productions 
 are impressed with the spirit of their own time, the only genius 
 that truly responds io the invocations of the most devoted 
 artist. 
 
 103. The study of ancient art should be duly cultivated, for a 
 knowledge of it improves the taste and opens an infinite source 
 of pleasure, giving an appreciation of intrinsic beauties peculiar 
 to the works of antiquity, and, through them, an understanding 
 of the people by whom they were produced. And this is not 
 all : a knowledge of it also explains to us the poetic imagery 
 and figurative language, as well as the symbolic forms and 
 ceremonies recorded in the sacred scriptures ; but, to revive an 
 ancient style of art, is like reviving a dead language, the sounds 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 49 
 
 of which may be uttered, yet the life and spirit that give power 
 to utterance will ever be wanting. 
 
 104. So long as art was employed as a symbolic language, and 
 every line and every color expressed a sentiment, or conveyed 
 an idea, it was emphatically artistic. Now, the character of art 
 is changed, and has become essentially scientific. This charac- 
 ter gives pleasure, and excites interest from the novelty of its 
 discoveries, and the importance attached to them, but is not 
 likely to become a permanent form of art, because as such, it 
 does not meet the wants of man. His nature craves the ideal ; 
 and the universal cultivation of the fine arts, strictly as arts, in 
 all their purity, power and beauty, seems the only thing that 
 can satisfy this appetite without engendering morbid influences. 
 
 105. People of every age appreciate and enjoy what they 
 best understand. The ancient knights appreciated the skill and 
 prowess of arms. Hence, their pleasure in tilts and tourna- 
 ments. The ancient artists appreciated the power and beauty 
 of art according to their mode of practice. Hence, their interest 
 in its promotion and cultivation. But we, of the nineteenth 
 century, can hardly understand how men of former times could 
 perform long marches encased in a full suit of armor ; or even 
 cleave their fellows from head to foot through the same coat of 
 steel. Neither can we understand the spirit of ancient art, that 
 seems a super-human power. " To appreciate either, we must 
 make it our own. We admire the one, but attempt no imita- 
 tion of it ; and to the other we render homage by endeavoring 
 to give to the productions of our own time the same stamp of 
 imperishable beauty that has immortalized theirs. 
 
 106. This subject is worthy of investigation in all its bearings. 
 In the time of tilts and tournaments, the nobles and gentry had 
 no learning. They could not even write their own names. 
 They turned their skill in arms to martial entertainments, and, 
 by including ladies, added to these diversions the ideal of ro- 
 mance, and to this they owed their life and zest. Still, the 
 poetry of the thing was too intimately blended with social and 
 individual life. But these tournaments served to cultivate their 
 
 3 
 
50 STUDY OF AKT. 
 
 taste for skill of arms, and at the same time, gratified their love 
 of excitement, one of the prominent traits of man's nature, and 
 when the call was given for a holy crusade, the knights and their 
 retinues greedily responded, for no employment could have 
 been more genial to their tastes and habits. 
 
 107. We sometimes see this love of excitement taking one 
 form of gratification and sometimes another. It leads the world- 
 ly to an excess of fashionable amusement. The business man, 
 to speculation. The devotee, to religious excess. The vicious, 
 to wickedness. The multitude, to a belief in Millerism, spi- 
 ritual rappings, and the like. Might not this trait, so va- 
 riously developed, be directed and saved from an unhealthy 
 influence by cultivating a love for the fine arts ? 
 
 108. Allston, in one of his lectures, says : " Art may, in truth, 
 be called the human world ; for it is so far the work of man, 
 that his beneficent Creator has especially endowed him with 
 the powers to construct it ; and, if so, surely not for his own 
 amusement, but as a part, small though it be of that mighty 
 plan, which Infinite wisdom has ordained for the evolution of 
 the human spirit, whereby is intended, not only the enlargement 
 of this sphere of pleasure, but of his higher capacities of adora- 
 tion, as if, in the gift, He had said unto man : f Thou shalt know 
 me by the powers I have given thee.' The calling of an artist, 
 then, is one of no common responsibility, and it well becomes 
 him to consider at the threshold, whether he shall assume it for 
 high and noble purposes, or for the low and licentious." 
 
 109. Nothing can give us a more forcible impression of the 
 powers with which God has gifted man, than tracing the pro- 
 gress of art from its earliest commencement ; or, in other words, 
 this world of man's construction. We find, in so doing, that the 
 elements of the human mind are the same everywhere, and ever 
 have been, and that the seeming difference lies in the fact that 
 the people of every nation adopt their own modes of expressing 
 their own sentiments, and recording their own deeds. And we 
 find, too, that the earliest forms used are the most simple and 
 the most original, as well as the most significant. Every sue- 
 
TASTE AND STYLE. 51 
 
 ceeding age shows the influence of the preceding, for not one 
 fails to give more or less of its own impress to all that follow. 
 
 110. The massive temples, and colossal figures constructed 
 by the people of remote antiquity, (of the harmonious beauty 
 of which, in their full significance, we have little conception,) 
 exhibit the cultivation of mental powers as well as physical. 
 By the Grecians, both were cultivated, and, in the works that 
 they produced, we see the perfection that results from this com- 
 plete development. From Greece, the arts were transplanted 
 to Italy, where they were assiduously cultivated, till we find, in 
 following their progress, that the effeminate luxury of the people 
 to which they administered, contributed to their decline and final 
 decay ; or, in other words, the Italians, in their luxurious habits 
 of indulgence, lost the vigorous energy essential to the construc- 
 tive powers of man. 
 
 111. Differing essentially in character, and still more in 
 religious belief, which so materially influences art, we vainly 
 attempt to revive the past. The statues of the ancient deities 
 and heroes, and the pictures illustrating sacred history, embodied 
 some poetical conception. They were eminently ideal. But 
 we want no objects of worship, and no pictures of saints, there- 
 fore, our artists are furnished subjects from real life. They at- 
 tempt to make ideal pictures, and representations of those who 
 were men like themselves, and this, too, under the restriction 
 of conventional forms, and the influence of familiar associations. 
 Without a perfect portrait or copy of the individual represented, 
 the work is condemned as wanting in the likeness ; without the 
 ideal, it is equally condemned as wanting in artistic excellence ; 
 and in thus attempting to combine both the real and the ideal, 
 keeping in mind, as they must, the mundane tastes that they 
 labor to gratify, is it strange that artists so often make a com- 
 plete failure ? 
 
 112. The question naturally arises : Then, what can we do, 
 in our great republic, and under the light of Christianity, for 
 the promotion and cultivation of the fine arts ? And, what is 
 the best manner of pursuing the subject ? The divine religion 
 
52 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 in which we believe, was established to overthrow idolatrous 
 worship and the work of men's hands, and shall we do aught to 
 restore it ? Or, by self-glorification, make our works offensive 
 in the sight of God ? Or, in fear of this, shall we abandon all 
 attempts at ideal art ? 
 
 113. Intellectual education is more universal with us than it 
 ever has been among any other people, and if with that we dif- 
 fuse the refining influence afforded by the cultivation of the fine 
 arts, shall we not help to elevate our people above the enjoy- 
 ment of mere worldly gain, and the vain pomp that too surely 
 accompanies great prosperity ? We are gifted by our Maker, 
 who doeth all things well, with both reasoning and perceptive 
 faculties, and without the aid of both, how should we compre- 
 hend the Omnipotent and Omnipresent ? Cultivating the reason- 
 ing faculties to the neglect of the perceptive, produces a one- 
 sided development, and we need not fear to cultivate both, if 
 both are made to grow in the fear of God. The religious ele- 
 ment of our nature is its life, and the spring of man's best 
 efforts. Self-aggrandisement was not the first impulse of the 
 ancient artists ; neither was this their end and aim. It was to 
 do honor to their gods, and transmit their worship to their pos- 
 terity. Fame followed from the eminent skill attained under 
 the influence of this stimulus. 
 
 114. In praying to their gods to give them fame and immor- 
 tality, they acknowledged the existence of a higher power, as 
 well as their reliance upon its influence ; and the beauty of their 
 works attest the purity of their motives, both in the projection 
 and in the execution. For how much that belongs to the 
 highest cultivation have they furnished models ! Poetry, the 
 drama, sculpture, architecture, classic literature, in short, all 
 attainments that require the exercise of the highest faculties ; 
 and, if we doubt the utility of cultivating the fine arts, or the 
 influence of this cultivation in refining and elevating the cha- 
 racter, let us contrast the ancient Greeks as a nation, with the 
 Jews, who cultivate no arts, but who excel all others in the 
 debasing pursuit of gain, (f) 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 FORM AND PROPORTION. 
 
 115. THE bones comprising the skeleton, play an important 
 part in the production of form and over nearly the whole body, 
 depressions and prominences dependent on the bones may be 
 observed. 
 
 116. The forms of the bones are constant ; or, at least, un- 
 dergo but slight modifications during motion. On the contrary, 
 the soft parts are constantly modified by contraction, distension, 
 and change of direction. The movement of a limb, cannot 
 change the proper form of the bone ; and, when we observe a 
 bony projection changed to a depression, we look for the cause, 
 not on the bone itself, but in the surrounding parts. It must 
 also be observed, that the extremity of a bone, will always 
 occupy the same position relatively to the bone of which it 
 forms a part ; sometimes producing a depression, and at others, 
 a projection, according to the position or movement of the limb. 
 Take for example, the elbow-joint. When the fore-arm is 
 stretched on the arm the joint is marked by a depression.- By 
 changing the movement of the limb, this depression is trans- 
 formed into a strong projection. Still, the projection and de- 
 pression, will, under all circumstances, be situated at the same 
 distance from the wrist. 
 
 117. The shape and proportion of the head is decided by the 
 bones. Indeed, all the varieties of form characterizing indi- 
 viduals, and the different races of men, belong to the skeleton. 
 Therefore, a knowledge of the bones is of importance to the 
 
54 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 artist. On the form, and especially on the direction of the 
 bones, depend those of the limbs, whose articulations with the 
 trunk it is impossible to understand without a careful study of 
 their particular forms. 
 
 118. A bone is generally distinguished by anatomists as 
 having two parts, the body and extremities. Any protuberance, 
 eminence, or projecting part of a bone, is called a process. 
 Processes generally obtain their names from their size, form, 
 or use. Thus a large process of a spherical form, is 
 called the caput or head ; if the head is flattened, it is called 
 condyle. 
 
 119. The bones of every part of the frame are so nicely 
 adapted to each other, that the end of every one is exactly re- 
 ceived by, or, admits the end of another. This connection of 
 the bones is called their articulation. These articulations are 
 termed movable, immovable, and mixed. 
 
 120. The skeleton is formed by the union of all the bones, 
 and determines the size, the characteristic form, and the pro- 
 portion of the figure. In a word, it is the frame-work of the 
 edifice. The height of the skeleton cannot alter excepting 
 under the influence of certain diseases affecting the osseous 
 tissue, or the decay that attends old age. 
 
 121. The bones are the hardest part of the economy. Every- 
 thing in their structure tends to give them solidity, and mobi- 
 lity. By anatomists, they are subdivided into long, broad, and 
 short. The long bones prevail chiefly in the limbs. The broad 
 bones protect the cavities. The short bones are found in the 
 extremities, properly so called. These arrangements have a 
 reference to the uses of the different parts. In the mobility, 
 and at the same time, solidity of the feet and hands, we per- 
 ceive the importance of, and necessity for, the presence of short 
 bones. The short and solid bones of the foot for example, 
 united by strong ligaments, and forming an elastic arch, resist 
 the effect of falls in the lower extremities, yield to the move- 
 ments of progression, and, at the same time, sustain the whole 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 55 
 
 weight of the body. The structure of the hand, by its strength, 
 and the number of its articulations, enables it to seize heavy 
 and voluminous bodies as well as to handle the most delicate. 
 
 122. The more important, or vital organs, the brain, for in- 
 stance, are protected by the broad bones. The osseous cage- 
 work, or thorax, enclosing the heart and lungs, serves the 
 double purpose of protection and motion ; mobility being essen- 
 tial to the play of the lungs. 
 
 123. The intimate structure of the bones is complex. They 
 are united together, or rather, meet each other by those articular 
 surfaces called processes, covered with cartilages. These carti- 
 lages are formed of a simple elastic substance. Their use is 
 to regulate the articular surfaces and facilitate the movements 
 of the joints. The bones themselves are kept in apposition at 
 the joints by ligaments, composed of a white, compact, fibrous 
 tissue, stipple and of great solidity. 
 
 124. Of the forms of the bones, some are prismatic, some 
 triangular, some cylindrical, others, quadrilateral. They pre- 
 sent on their surfaces, furrows, grooves, and fissures. In them 
 may be observed also, cells, sinuses, and protuberances. 
 
 125. The bones are two hundred in number, including the 
 rotulce and sesamoid bones, not usually reckoned with the bones 
 of the skeleton ; but, as the greater number of these bones are 
 in pairs, that is, exist to the right and left, there remain, in fact, 
 but one hundred and seventeen bones to be studied ; of which, 
 thirty-four are single or fellowless bones, being placed in the 
 middle plane of the body. 
 
 126. The skeleton may be divided into the head, the trunk, 
 and the extremities. The osseous trunk comprises the verte- 
 bral column, the chest or thorax, formed by the ribs and breast- 
 bone, arid the pelvis. The limbs are designated as the superior 
 and inferior. 
 
 127. The head as the centre of thought and expression, de- 
 mands careful study. The os frontis or frontal bone, has high 
 ridges, on which the eye-brows are placed, and hollow chambers, 
 
56 STUDY OF AKT. 
 
 called sinuses, which are wanting in the child. John Bell re- 
 marks, " that these sinuses being hollow, add strength to the 
 voice, and that he had observed them very large in a giantess." 
 The ancients represented their deities with these projecting 
 sinuses ; and Jupiter, Neptune, Pluto, and Hercules, were all 
 celebrated for having awful voices. Moreover, the muscles 
 which knit the brows, project with more force when the sinus 
 is capacious. In drawing children it must be remembered that 
 no sinus appears till after the age of fifteen. 
 
 128. The parietal bones are essential to the character of the 
 head. In a fine head, they are neither elevated nor depressed, 
 but continue the shape of the frontal bone, and gradually unite 
 the back of the head with the front. 
 
 129. The occipital bone holds up the back of the brain, gives 
 origin to many of the greater muscles that move the head and 
 neck, contains the lesser brain, and transmits the spinal marrow. 
 
 130. The temporal bone is remarkable for its processes, 
 essential to the drawing of the head. First, the zygomatic pro- 
 cess, the arch under which the temporal muscle acts. It joins 
 the cheek bone, and gives form to the cheek. At its termina- 
 tion is the orifice for hearing; and underneath, the mastoid 
 process, that receives the muscles of the neck. This process 
 is a guide to the artist in drawing the head. 
 
 131. The face is composed of many small bones, under the 
 names of upper and lower jaw. The upper jaw is most essen- 
 tial to the form. First comes the nasal process, which forms 
 the sides of the nose. It is arched outwards, to give the nos- 
 tril shape ; its sides support the nasal bones, and the cartilages 
 of the wings of the nose are fixed to its edges. The upper 
 jaw is the basis on which the cheek bones stand. The alveolar 
 process grows with the teeth, and is absorbed with age. In the 
 infant, the jaw not being formed, the shape of the mouth is not 
 altered; but the moment the teeth and alveolar process fall 
 away, the lower jaw rises up, and the lips double in. The 
 external form is then one of the strongest marks of age. 
 
 132. The cheek bones join the zygomatic process, and form 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 57 
 
 part of the eye-sockets. Then comes the lower jaw, square at 
 the chin, angular where it turns up to go under the zygomatic 
 process, and nearly straight from the chin to the angle, though 
 it was circular in Napoleon, and is so inclined in the Apollo. 
 
 133. A knowledge of the skull is essential to the artist in its 
 national as well as individual distinctions. Cuvier reduces the 
 variety of our species to three. The Caucasian, or white ; the 
 Mongolian, or yellow ; the Negro, or black. 
 
 134. The Caucasian is known by the beauty of the oval- 
 formed head, varying in complexion and the color of the hair. 
 From this variety, the most civilized nations have originated. 
 
 135. The Mongolian is known by the high cheek-bones, flat 
 visage, narrow and oblique eyes, straight, black hair, scanty 
 beard, and olive complexion. 
 
 136. The Negro is marked by black complexion, woolly hair, 
 compressed cranium, and flat nose. 
 
 137. The vertebral column, the ribs, and the sternum, form 
 the middle portion of the skeleton. 
 
 138. The spine is as important to beauty of form, as the 
 head to intellectual expression. If it is badly formed, the finest 
 limbs dwindle ; the finest features and skull become distorted, 
 and the finest hands grow long and skinny. If it is finely 
 formed, every part of the body partakes more or less of its 
 beauty. 
 
 139. The spine is composed of twenty-four distinct bones, 
 called vertebra, from the Latin, vertere, to turn. They conduct 
 the spinal marrow, support the whole weight of the trunk, head, 
 and arms, and perform, at certain points, the chief turnings of 
 the body. 
 
 140. The vertebrae, form one long column, which extends from 
 the head to the lower part of the body, and is divided princi- 
 pally into two parts ; the upper part called the true vertebrae, 
 and the lower, the false, because in adults they are immovable. 
 The true vertebrae are subdivided into three classes ; the cervical, 
 
 3* 
 
58 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the dorsal, and the lumbar vertebra. The false vertebrae form 
 the sacrum and coccygis. 
 
 141. Each bone of the spine may be considered with regard 
 to its body, processes, notches and cavities. The body of a ver- 
 tebra, nearly cylindrical, is concave in front, and convex be- 
 hind, forming the cavity of the spine, which contains and trans- 
 mits the spinal marrow. 
 
 142. On each side of the body of the vertebra are the 
 transverse processes ; these articulate with the ribs. The four 
 others are called oblique, or articular processes, from their sit- 
 uation. They are smaller than the transverse, and are placed 
 two on the upper and two on the lower part of each vertebra, and 
 the two superior processes of one vertebra, being articulated with 
 the two inferior of the next, firmly connect them together. 
 
 143. The cavities of the vertebrae coincide, and form a long 
 bony channel, in which the spinal marrow is placed. There 
 are also four notches in each vertebra, two at the upper end, 
 and two at the lower, between the oblique processes and the 
 body of the bone. These form a passage for several vessels 
 and nerves. 
 
 144. The vertebrce are arranged according to the neck, back, 
 and loins. The cervical vertebrce, those of the neck, are seven 
 in number. They are of a firmer texture than those of the 
 other parts of the spine, and serve to facilitate the motions of 
 the head. 
 
 145. The dorsal vertebrce, or those of the back, are twelve in 
 number, and are of a middle size, between those of the neck 
 and loins. 
 
 146. The lumbar vertebrae, or those of the loins, are five in 
 number. These are larger and stronger than those of the back, 
 and have their spinous processes placed at a greater distance 
 from each other, which is necessary to freedom of motion. 
 They are thick and massive, forming a base for the back, neck 
 and head, which they support and balance. It is necessary for 
 the artist to observe the forms of the vertebrce, but more par- 
 ticularly the position of the vertebra prominens, where the back 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 59 
 
 ends and the neck begins. On the position of this vertebra, 
 depends the beauty of the shoulders. 
 
 147. The bodies of the vertebra are united to each other by 
 substances called ^ro-cartilages (discs) of great strength. They 
 are elastic, and form a kind of partition between the different 
 vertebra, by which means the several motions of the trunk are 
 performed with facility. By their aid, the column moves in 
 nearly all directions with perfect safety to the spinal marrow 
 and nerves ; and on their action depends the elasticity of the 
 vertebral column. In age, this ligament becomes shrivelled, 
 and loses its elasticity, which accounts for the stoop and decrease 
 in stature of people who are advanced in life. 
 
 148. The sacrum, with the coccyx, terminates the vertebral 
 column inferiorly, and connects it with the pelvis. By its broad 
 base, it articulates with the last lumbar vertebra, and by its 
 summit, with the coccygeal bone, or coccyx. The sacrum is 
 composed of five vertebra, distinct from each other in youth, 
 but which unite together in the maturity of the figure. The 
 adult sacrum then forms but one bone. The canal for the 
 spinal marrow passes through it, but the medulla itself does 
 not extend so low. 
 
 149. The coccyx derives its name from its supposed resem- 
 blance to the beak of a cuckoo. It differs decidedly from the 
 vertebrae, having neither processes nor cavity for the spinal 
 marrow ; neither does it transmit the nerves. Its uses are to 
 support the rectum, and enable us to sit with ease. 
 
 150. Thus, the spine, as we have seen, answers many impor- 
 tant purposes. It protects the abdominal thoracic viscera. It 
 supports the head, and gives strength and grace to the whole 
 body. From the number of its articulations, it admits of great 
 freedom of motion, and, from its numerous processes, ligaments 
 and cartilages, it partakes of the strength and firmness of one 
 entire bone. The student in art must also observe the form 
 and direction of its curves. In the neck, at the top, the spine 
 projects a little forward, in order to support the head. A little 
 lower down, it curves outwardly, and thereby increases the 
 
60 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 cavity of the chest. In the loins, it projects forward, approach- 
 ing the centre of gravity. Toward its inferior extremity, it again 
 recedes backward, and affords room for the cavity called the 
 pelvis. 
 
 151. The thorax, or chest, is formed by the vertebral column 
 behind ; the sternum in front ; and, laterally, by the ribs, twelve 
 on either side. 
 
 152. The sternum, or breast-bone, is a mesial-bone, or chain 
 of bones. In a young person, it is composed of a series of dis- 
 tinct bones, which unite as age advances, and forms but one. 
 Its upper extremity is broad, and notched in the middle. At 
 each side of the bone, there are surfaces for articulation with 
 the collar-bones, and with the cartilages of the seven ribs. At 
 its lower extremity, is the xiphoid appendix, or cartilage, whose 
 form and structure vary considerably. 
 
 153. The ribs, twenty-four in number, are arches partly bony, 
 and partly cartilaginous, whose dimensions vary according to 
 the regions they occupy. By anatomists, they are divided into 
 fourteen true, and ten false. The true ribs, seven on each side, 
 are articulated directly to the sternum. The cartilaginous ex- 
 tremities of the false ribs do not proceed so far, but are support- 
 ed by the attachment of one to another, excepting the two 
 lowest on each side, which are not attached anteriorly to the 
 other ribs. Posteriorly, they are articulated to the body of a 
 vertebra only, and not with a transverse process. This disposi- 
 tion is necessary for performing many of the motions of the 
 trunk, which depend on the two last vertebra of the back. Had 
 they been attached like the rest, the motions of these two vertebra, 
 and, consequently, the motions of the whole body would have 
 been greatly impeded. The uses of the ribs are, first, to form a 
 cavity, called the thorax ; second, to afford attachment to various 
 muscles ; third, to assist in respiration ; fourth, to secure the 
 heart and lungs from external injury. 
 
 154. "Whilst examining the ribs, the student's attention should 
 be directed to their general form ; also, to the head of the rib, 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 61 
 
 articulating generally between the beads of thu vertebra, and to 
 the tuberosity resting on, and articulated with the transverse 
 process of the vertebrae. The anterior extremity of the rib is 
 thin and terminates in a cartilage. The body of the bone is 
 curved and twisted ; it also has projections for muscular attach- 
 ments. 
 
 155. In direction, the ribs incline downwards, and this angle 
 increases from the first to the last. The thorax itself thus form- 
 ed, is of a conical shape, with the base downwards, and the 
 summit above. A form entirely different from the living model, 
 in which, on the contrary, the chest appears large in the line 
 of the shoulders, and contracted at the lower part. 
 
 156. The shoulder consists of two bones, the clavicula, or 
 collar-bone, and the scapula, or shoulder-blade. In the female 
 figure, the collar-bone is longer, thinner, and less curved than 
 in the male. In its form, it presents a convexity and a con- 
 cavity. The head is articulated with the sternum. The other 
 extremity is broader and flatter, and connected with a process 
 of the scapula, called acromion. It is also fixed to the sternum 
 by ligaments, and on its lower surface near the acromial end, 
 it has a tubercle that gives attachment to the powerful ligaments 
 connecting the caracoid process in the shoulder-blade. The 
 collar-bone plays an important part in the movements of the 
 shoulder, as it regulates the motions of the scapula, preventing 
 it from being brought too far forward, or driven too far back. 
 
 157. The scapula, or shoulder-blade, is a large and rather 
 thin bone, extremely movable, and situated at the superior and 
 lateral portion of the back by the side of the vertebral column. 
 It lies on a bed of muscle, and moves about, as it were, on a 
 cushion. It is the principal cause of the various markings of 
 the shoulders ; and unless its form and motions are understood 
 it cannot be correctly represented. 
 
 158. In shape, it is nearly triangular; is convex externally; 
 and concave internally, to fit its form to the ribs. It has three 
 unequal sides ; the largest, called the basis, is next to the 
 
62 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 vertebra. The side next in size is below, and the least side is 
 at the upper part. The spine of the scapula is a strong ridge 
 of bone, that terminates in a broad process at the top of the 
 shoulder, called the acromion, with winch the collar-bone arti- 
 culates. This spine divides the muscles on the scapula. It has 
 also another process on its upper part, called the coracoid pro- 
 cess, and a third called glenoid for the articulation of the arm- 
 bone, to which it serves as a fulcrum, and by varying its posi- 
 tion, gives great scope to the motions of the arm. 
 
 159. The pelvis is composed of a circle of large, strong 
 bones, standing like an arch between the lower limbs and the 
 trunk. It gives a powerful support to the body. Its move- 
 ments are free and beautiful, leaving the trunk above, and 
 moving on the thigh-bones below. John Bell remarks, it is 
 so truly the centre of all the great motions of the body, that 
 when one believes the motion to be in the higher parts of the 
 spine, it is either the last vertebra of the loins bending on the 
 top of the pelvis (a rare and essential beauty of form), or the 
 pelvis rolling on the thigh-bones, (in which there can be no 
 grace of motion). 
 
 160. In the adult, the pelvis is composed of four bones, the 
 two ossa innominata, or bones of the haunches ; the sacrum, and 
 the coccyx. The ossa innominata, or coxal bones, sometimes 
 also called iliac, articulate strongly with the sacrum, and are 
 extremely voluminous. 
 
 161. Each os innominatum is divided into three bones; the 
 os ilium, os ischium, and os pubis. The os ilium, or haunch- 
 bone, forms the upper and most considerable part of this bone. 
 It is articulated posteriorly to the os sacrum, and by a firm car- 
 tilaginous substance, anteriorly, to the os pubis ; and posteriorly, 
 to the os ischium. The os ischium, or hip-bone, forms the lower 
 part of the pelvis. It is divided into body, tuberosity, and ramus. 
 The tuberosity of the os ischium, the lowest part of the trunk, 
 is large and irregular and serves to support us in sitting. The 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 63 
 
 os pubis forms the fore part of the pelvis, and is the least divi- 
 sion of the os innominatum. 
 
 162. There is formed by the reunion of these bones a vast 
 cavity with solid walls more or less deep. This osseous cavity 
 is notched behind, where rests the vertebral column, so called. 
 It is still more deeply notched in front over the pubic portion 
 of the pelvis. Beneath the symphisis of the pubis is the pubic 
 arch, wider in the female figure than in the male. The oblique 
 position of the pelvis, with respect to the vertebral column must 
 be carefully noted. In woman the pelvis is much broader than 
 in man, the upper margin less curved, and the cotyloid cavities, 
 that receive the heads of the thigh bones, situated more apart. 
 
 163. Haydon remarks, "the form of the pelvis is charac- 
 teristic in the highest degree. In man the shoulders are broad 
 and the haunches small ; the thighs in a direct line with the 
 body, which gives a firm step, graceful and noble ; while the 
 breadth of the female hip causes the gentle approach of the 
 knees in woman ; the step is therefore hesitating, tender, timid, 
 unsure, and bewitching ; the most lovely women always walk 
 with a timid apprehension; they cannot help it; they do it 
 from inherent construction." 
 
 164. The arm is divided in two parts, that are articulated at 
 the elbow. That part from the shoulder to the elbow is pro- 
 perly called the arm ; the other part, from the elbow to the 
 wrist, the fore-arm. The os humeri, or arm-bone, is round in 
 the middle, but twists into a hinge-joint at the elbow. At its 
 lower extremity are two condyles ; their chief use is, to give a 
 large fulcrum to the muscles of the fore-arm which rise from 
 these points. The outer tubercle gives rise to the extending 
 muscles ; the inner which is largest, to the bending muscles ; 
 for more power is required to bend, grasp, and pull, than merely 
 to extend ; which, being an antagonist power, does not require 
 the same mechanical provision for strength. 
 
 165. In drawing the arm, it is necessary to remember that 
 the inner tubercle is the lowest. Therefore the hinge-joint is 
 
64 STUDY OF AKT. 
 
 oblique, which occasions the hand and arm to fall naturally 
 towards the face and breast when crossed. 
 
 166. The fore-arm is composed of two bones, the ulna, or 
 elbow-bone, and the radius. The ulna is less than the arm- 
 bone, and becomes gradually smaller as it approaches the wrist. 
 At its upper extremity it has two processes and two cavities. 
 The chief use of the ulna is, to regulate the motions of the 
 radius, which is situated on the interior side of the fore-arm, 
 and receives its name from its supposed resemblance to the 
 spoke of a wheel. The radius is thicker and shorter than the 
 ulna, and hollowed at its upper extremity to admit the outer 
 condyle of the humerus. It is admitted laterally into the 
 sigmoid cavity of the ulna ; and the cylindrical part, turning in 
 this cavity, permits the hand to be moved round as on a pivot. 
 The lower extremity of the radius is larger and stronger than 
 the upper ; and the lower part of the ulna is the smallest, so 
 that they mutually strengthen each other. 
 
 167. In fine nature, the end of the elbow, and shape of the 
 radius at the wrist, are always visible, even in the most deli- 
 cate female hand ; but from a false taste, they are sometimes 
 smoothed away, so that no appearance of their influence on the 
 form is seen. 
 
 168. A minute study of all the bones of the hand is neces- 
 sary to the artist. He should also make himself familiar with 
 their general form when united. 
 
 169. First, is the wrist; then the bones on the wrist; and 
 lastly, the fingers on the bones. These are technically called 
 the carpus, the metacarpus, and the phalanges. 
 
 170. The carpus, or wrist, consists of eight small, irregular 
 shaped bones, placed in two unequal rows. Those of the upper 
 row are articulated with the ulna and radius, and those of the 
 lower row with the metacarpus. These bones are convex on 
 the back, and slightly concave on the front towards the palm 
 of the hand. They are covered on the back with cartilages, 
 and secured by several strong ligaments. 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 65 
 
 171. The metacarpus, or hand, consists of four bones, which 
 serve to support the fingers ; these bones are of a cylindrical 
 form, somewhat convex on the back, and a little concave internal- 
 ly where they form the palm of the hand. At their upper ex- 
 tremities they articulate with the bones of the wrist; and at 
 their lower extremities, with the first phalanx of the fingers. 
 The little finger metacarpal bone turns towards the fore-finger 
 metacarpal bone; a knowledge of which is essential to the 
 proper formation of the hand. 
 
 172. The five fingers of each hand consist of fifteen bones, 
 called phalanges. The bones of the first phalanx are the 
 longest, and united to those of the metacarpus. All the bones 
 of the wrist, hand, and fingers, twenty-seven in each hand, are 
 articulated with each other, and their articulations are strength- 
 ened by ligaments. 
 
 173. The fingers have free motions, and the great distinction 
 between the human hand and the hand-paw of the quadruped, 
 is the vast and perfect power of grasping by the thumb. The 
 lion has no power to grasp, because he is without the abductor 
 muscles, which form the ball of the human thumb. 
 
 174. The bones of the fingers are grooved, and slightly 
 arched outwards. The middle finger is the longest, and is 
 straight. The little, and fore-fingers, bend inwardly towards 
 each other. The little finger inclines to the ring finger, which 
 at once gives the drawing of the hand ; but, unless an artist 
 thoroughly understands its internal construction, he will never 
 be able to give a perfect representation of its external form. 
 
 175. The femur, or thigh-bone, is the largest and strongest 
 in the human frame ; of a cylindrical shape, convex before, and 
 behind somewhat concave, where it receives several muscles. 
 As is usual with all the long bones, it is twisted on itself, and 
 otherwise remarkably curved. 
 
 176. At the upper extremity of the bone is a head, forming 
 the large portion of a sphere, unequally divided, and turned 
 inwards. This head is received into the great cotyloid cavity 
 
66 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 of the hip-bone, with which it forms the hip-joint. This ex- 
 tremity of the thigh bone has also a neck which is nearly hori- 
 zontal with the body of the bone, and also two processes ; the 
 larger called the trochanter major, is situated externally ; the 
 inner, called the trochanter minor is less. It should be observed, 
 that in fine nature, the trochanter major is always apparent. 
 Muscles arise all round it, but it is never entirely covered. 
 The femur is articulated at the trunk by means of a capsular 
 ligament, which, adhering to the edge of the great cotyloid cav- 
 ity, surrounds the head of the bone, strengthens the connection, 
 and permits it to move in all directions. The lower extrem- 
 ity of the bone is furnished with two processes, called the con- 
 dyles, between which is a smooth cavity, whereby this bone is 
 united to that of the leg by a hinge-like articulation. 
 
 177. The inner condyle is the largest, to counterbalance the 
 oblique position of the thigh bones. On the fore part of this 
 extremity, glides the pan-bone ; and over the back part come 
 the hamstrings. There is also a deep notch where lie the great 
 arteries, veins, and nerves of the leg. 
 
 178. The leg is composed of two bones; the tibia, which is 
 the larger and inner one, and the fibula, which is less in size. 
 The tibia is of a prismatic form, having the back part the 
 broadest. Anteriorly, it has a prominent ridge called the shin. 
 The upper extremity of the tibia is furnished with two cavities 
 which receive the condyles of the femur. At the lower extre- 
 mity, is a transverse cavity by which it is articulated with the 
 uppermost bone of the foot. There is likewise, another cavity 
 at the outer side of each extremity, which receives the lower 
 end of the fibula. 
 
 179. The form of the shaft of the tibia, and more especially of 
 the inner and anterior surface, cannot be too carefully studied. In 
 a finely formed shin it curves gently outward till it unites with 
 the instep ; and, as it terminates, forms the inner ankle ; which 
 in man, is the highest ; and in the quadruped, when he stands 
 like man, the lowest. 
 
 180. The fibula, or outer bone, is less than the tibia, and its 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 67 
 
 upper extremity does not reach quite as high. It is articulated 
 at both ends with the tibia. The lower extremity forms the 
 coronoid process, which is flat internally ; and externally, con- 
 vex ; forming the outer ankle, which is a little lower and a little 
 behind the inner. 
 
 181. The inner ankle lies a little obliquely forward; deter- 
 mining the obliquity of the foot, which must be of importance, 
 because there are so many provisions for it. First, the oblique 
 position of the trochanters ; next, the oblique position of all the 
 muscles from the groin to the trochanters ; and lastly, the obli- 
 quity of the ankles. The inner ankle a little one side, which 
 turns the foot outward. 
 
 182. In forming the leg, thigh, hip, and foot, it is important 
 to remark their relative positions. When the knee is square 
 towards you, the ankles and foot turn out ; when the ankles are 
 square, the knee turns in ; ajid when the foot turns a little out, 
 still the knee is not quite square. 
 
 183. The knee-pan, technically called the rotula or patella, 
 is a flat bone placed at the fore part of the knee-joint. Its use 
 is, to defend the articulation of the knee from external injury. 
 It also tends to increase the power of the extensor muscles of 
 the legs, by removing their direction farther from the centre of 
 motion. 
 
 184. The foot forms a right angle with the leg ; it is com- 
 posed of the tarsus, metatarsus, and phalanges, or toes, making 
 in all twenty-seven bones. 
 
 185. The tarsus, or instep, is composed of seven large bones, 
 which form a firm and elastic arch for the support of the body. 
 The astralagus alone, of all the bones of the foot, contributes 
 to form the ankle-joint ; and the foot cannot be finely formed, 
 without understanding the position and influence of this im- 
 portant bone. It articulates both with the tibia, and the fibula 
 on its upper and convex side ; and below, with the calcaneum. 
 The calcaneum is the largest bone of the foot, is irregular in 
 its form, and the posterior half projects backwards, constituting 
 
68 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the heel, into which enters the tendo Achillis ; the great cord 
 for the action of the calf. The anterior bones of the tarsus, five 
 in number, form a sort of ridge, whose superior surface is con- 
 vex transversely. 
 
 186. Five long prismatic bones compose the metatarsus ; at 
 their base they articulate with the bones of the tarsus, serving 
 to form the sole of the foot, where the tendons and nerves are 
 placed secure from pressure. Anteriorly, these bones form 
 condyles which articulate with the phalanges. 
 
 187. The phalanges, three in number for each toe, except for 
 the first which has but two, are disposed as in the hand. The 
 shortness of the last two phalanges of each of the smaller toes, 
 and the fan-like shape of the nail-bone of the great toe, merit 
 attention. 
 
 188. When the foot is left free and unconfined, and the great 
 toe distinct, the second toe is always the longest. A foot de- 
 veloped without restraint is one of the most beautiful parts of 
 the human figure. In ancient statues, hands are less fre- 
 quently found than feet, because they are detached from sup- 
 port, and therefore more liable to injury. The hands of the 
 Venus were added by Bernini, and are said to be very inferior 
 to the feet which originally belonged to the statue. 
 
 189. The natural height of the human figure, is eight heads ; 
 and, in deciding the measurement of its various parts, the head 
 is always taken as the standard of proportion. 
 
 190. In studying the arrangement of the parts, we find the 
 gradation so essential to harmony, carefully preserved. The 
 body is longer than the thigh, and the thigh is longer than the 
 leg. The arm is longer than the fore-arm, and the fore-arm 
 is longer than the hand. 
 
 191. The proportions peculiar to the sexes, seldom receive 
 that careful attention that is necessary to truth of imitation. 
 Every figure is decidedly marked in its proportions. These in 
 the first place, distinguish sex ; and, in the next, distinguish 
 individuals. 
 
FORM AND PROPORTION. 69 
 
 192. This difference should be noticed, first, in the proportions 
 of the face as marking sex. The peculiarity on this point, is, the 
 position of the eyes in relation to the line dividing the length of 
 the head and face in two equal parts. As a general rule, the eyes 
 in the male head, stand directly on this line. Those of the 
 female are set a little below it. The effect of these different 
 divisions is truly characteristic. In the one, it is expressive of 
 manly confidence and courage. In the other of feminine deli- 
 cacy and timidity. The variations upon this rule of proportion, 
 occasioned by the combination of temperaments, are as numer- 
 ous as the human race ; and to the artist, as well as the physi- 
 ognomist, afford an inexhaustible subject of study. 
 
 193. The difference in the breadth of the shoulders and hips 
 is a more prominent mark of proportion. In the male figure, 
 the hips are the narrowest, and the shoulders the broadest. 
 The collar-bone also, is more straight in form, which makes a 
 square shoulder, and gives a more powerful fulcrum to the arm. 
 Being more curved in the female, she gains in grace of form, 
 what she loses in physical strength. 
 
 194. In both sexes the arm bears the same proportion to the 
 head. In the fore-arm there is a marked difference, it being in 
 the female, a nose shorter than in the male. Here again, the 
 female gains in grace and loses in power. Nothing is more 
 common in the drawing of the figure, than inattention to the 
 true proportions of the arm and fore-arm. 
 
 195. The head is as long as the face ; that is, from the 
 bottom of the chin to the roots of the hair. The foot is as 
 long as the head. 
 
 196. The head of a child is much larger, in proportion to the 
 figure, than in the adult, and, in form, is much more inclined to 
 the circle than the oval. The iris of the eye is large, and 
 marks the growth of the other features. The nose is flat. The 
 cheeks, plump and round. The mouth, somewhat retired. The 
 ears, large ; and the whole together, heavy. The growth of the 
 
70 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 teeth, and formation of the jaw, gradually change the whole 
 character of the face. 
 
 197. In the progress of growth and development, the hands 
 and feet are the first parts of the figure to attain their full size. 
 They then look out of proportion. In judging proportion, no 
 figure should be taken as a standard, that is not fully developed. 
 Every period and season of life has beauties peculiarly and 
 appropriately its own, which, if included in the representation 
 of any other, are unnatural and out of place, and, therefore, 
 fail to please. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 
 
 198. WE have already considered the bones as the foundation 
 of form. On the bones, the muscles have their origin and in- 
 sertions. Without both muscles and bones, the animal machine 
 would have neither consistence, basis, nor motion. 
 
 199. The shape and proportion of the bones, when clothed 
 with muscle, are more or less visible in the head, joints, hands, 
 feet and shoulders. To understand the changes produced upon 
 the external surface by every change of attitude, it is necessary 
 to learn the position and uses of the muscles, and also the form 
 and construction of the joints. 
 
 200. The skin is the first object of attention. It invests the 
 whole exterior, re-producing the forms beneath, which are mo- 
 dified by the presence of the cellular tissue. This tissue is im- 
 mediately below the skin, excepting on the neck and face, 
 where peculiar muscles, called cutaneous, adhere to the external 
 integument. The cellular tissue does not merely form a sub- 
 cutaneous layer ; it penetrates all the interstices of the subjacent 
 parts, unites them together, forms for them soft envelopes, faci- 
 litating their reciprocal actions, and protecting them from 
 violent shocks. In this tissue, blood-vessels and nervous fila- 
 ments creep along. 
 
 201. Beneath the sub-cutaneous cellular tissue, we find the 
 muscles arranged in successive layers. They are the active 
 organs of locomotion ; are of a red color, more or less deep, and 
 vary extremely in size, shape, and direction. They are com- 
 
72 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 posed of fibrils ; these, united in bundles, form fibres ; these, 
 again, fasciculi, which are united by cellular tissue, and provid- 
 ed with numerous blood-vessels and nerves. They are attached 
 directly to the bones, or indirectly, by means of tendons. 
 
 202. The muscles are enveloped on all sides by unyielding, 
 semi-transparent membranes, called aponeuroses. These apo- 
 neuroses are first seen under the sub-cutaneous cellular mem- 
 brane, or tissue. They next form sheaths, exactly enclosing 
 the muscles by sending partitions between them, proceeding 
 even to the bones themselves. 
 
 203. Each muscle contains two kinds of fibres ; viz. : one of a 
 soft nature, red in color, sensible, and irritable, called fleshy 
 fibres, which are capa,ble of contracting. The other kind, called 
 tendinous fibres, are of a firmer texture, white and glistening, 
 insensible, and without irritability, or the power of contracting. 
 The former prevail in the thick part of the muscle, and the 
 latter at the extremities. Sometimes, however, they are in- 
 termixed. They are divided into voluntary and involuntary 
 muscles. 
 
 204. The voluntary muscles are entirely subject to the will. 
 Those upon which the fingers, hands, and arms depend for their 
 motion, belong to this class. Involuntary muscles are not sub- 
 ject to the will, such as those of the stomach and intestines. 
 The muscles of respiration are said to have a mixed motion. 
 They depend partly on the will and partly on their own inhe- 
 rent force. The end of a muscle that adheres to the more 
 fixed part of a bone, is called its origin, and that which adheres 
 to the more movable part, its insertion. 
 
 205. Muscles owe their motions both to the fibres of which 
 they are composed, and to the nerves of volition. The names 
 that distinguish the muscles are founded upon their size, figure, 
 situation, use, origin, insertion, and arrangement of fibres. If 
 the fibres of a muscle are placed parallel to each other in a 
 straight direction, the muscle is called rectilinear. If the fibres 
 cross each other, they constitute a compound muscle. If they 
 are disposed in the manner of rays, a radiated muscle. If 
 
MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 73 
 
 placed obliquely with respect to tlie tendon, a pcnniform 
 muscle. 
 
 206. Some muscles act in opposition to others ; these are 
 called antagonists. Every extensor muscle has for its antago- 
 nist a flexor muscle. As, for instance, one set of muscles shuts 
 the hand, another opens it. Those muscles that concur in the 
 same action are called conyeres. 
 
 207. The bones comprising the skeleton are united either by 
 their margins or their extremities, which forms the joints. They 
 are held in contact by peculiar cords so disposed as to render 
 some joints nearly or wholly immovable ; while to others, they 
 allow of more or less extension, or regulate their action by con- 
 fining the motion within fixed directions. Hence it is, that 
 anatomists subdivide the articulations or joints into movable 
 and immovable. The movable articulations are formed by 
 osseous surfaces encrusted with cartilages, and held in their 
 places by ligaments. Many immovable articulations have nei- 
 ther ligaments nor cartilages. 
 
 208. Cartilages are white, solid, smooth substances, of an 
 elastic nature and fibrous texture, between the hardness of bones 
 and ligaments. Some are connected with the bones, and serve 
 to cover their ends intended for motion, facilitate their articula- 
 tions, and unite them together. Others belong to the softer 
 parts of the body, and serve for the attachment of muscles. 
 The cartilages encrusting the osseous articulations are supple, 
 elastic, solid, and perfectly smooth. An extremely delicate 
 membrane invests their surfaces, secreting a viscous fluid, like 
 albumen or white of egg. This fluid is called synovia, or joint- 
 oil. 
 
 209. The ligaments serve to connect the bones together, and 
 keep them in their places. They are exceedingly strong, white 
 cords, inelastic, and inextensible, flexible, yet unyielding. 
 Their fibres have the lustre of mother of pearl, and they differ 
 from the cartilages and ^/i&ro-cartilages. Those belonging to 
 the joints are of a tendinous nature, white, inelastic, strong, 
 and flexible. They are distinguished by the epithets, round 
 
 4 
 
74: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 and bursal. The bursal ligaments surround those articulations 
 that have a free motion. 
 
 210. Tendons, muscles, and aponeuroses contribute still fur- 
 ther to strengthen certain joints. The enlargement of the ex- 
 tremities of the long bones not only facilitates their motion, but 
 strengthens the power of the joints. By all these means the 
 mobility and solidity of the joints is admirably secured. 
 
 211. The form of the bones is more or less angular; the 
 tendons are straight, and the muscles are circular in action and 
 elliptical in repose. This difference between bones, tendons, 
 and muscles, causes variation of form ; therefore it should be 
 observed and remembered. 
 
 212. The first muscle in the back, and the most essential to 
 its beauty, both in the male and female figure, is the trapezius. 
 It covers all the back and neck, quite to the fore part of the 
 shoulder ; the two portions go to the tips of the shoulders, and 
 nearly down to the loins. 
 
 213. One portion on each side is implanted into one third of 
 the clavicle nearest the shoulder, and into the tips of the aero- 
 mion. This portion raises the scapula. It then branches round 
 the upper angle of the scapula, and adheres to its termination. 
 This portion moves the scapula towards the vertebral column ; 
 it then branches down into the back in a point, completing its 
 lozenge form. 
 
 214. The drawing of the back, neck, and shoulders, is one 
 of the most difficult things, as well as the most beautiful in the 
 human form; for the trapezius is not only important exter- 
 nally, but its form is so varied by internal construction that a 
 perfect understanding of it is essential to a perfect delineation. 
 
 215. The levator scapula is not necessarily visible. The 
 next underneath is the rhomboideus, which conies from the spine, 
 and follows the scapula the whole length at the base. These 
 muscles raise the scapula, and carry it backwards. 
 
 216. On the fore part of the breast, lies the serratus major 
 anticus, which moves the scapula forwards. The serratus is 
 
MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 75 
 
 most important. It arises by distinct teeth from all the true 
 ribs, and three of the false. It is a part of the cushion on 
 which the scapula moves, and goes into the whole base with the 
 rhomboid. In violent breathing, in collecting the breath, and 
 the heaving of the ribs and chest, the chief action of this muscle 
 is on the scapula ; indeed, the scapula can hardly move without 
 the serratus being in action. It always influences the shape, 
 whether in action or repose; but, when in repose, it is less 
 visible, and then it should not be distinctly marked. Thus, the 
 scapula, moved in every direction, causes all the variety of 
 shape and projection exhibited by a back in action ; and the 
 great principle, " that the form of every part varies with its 
 action or repose," cannot be better illustrated than by the va- 
 rious movements of this singular bone. 
 
 217. The great and important muscle by which the arm is 
 moved is the pectoralis major. It forms the characteristic of 
 the heroic figure, the broad and manly breast which it covers, 
 and is inserted into the arm-bone. 
 
 218. The latissimus dorsi is the broadest muscle of the back, 
 and of the whole body. It is inserted in the arm-bone, and to- 
 gether with the pectoralis major, forms the arm-pit. It has its 
 origin in the lower vertebra of the loins and os sacrum. The 
 action of these two muscles, pectoral and latissimus, is most 
 powerful. The pectoral pulls the arm forward, and the latissi- 
 mus brings it down ; as, for instance, in cutting with a sabre. 
 When the arm is fixed on a beam, it raises the body. 
 
 219. The most conspicuous muscle in the shoulder is the 
 deltoides ; one portion has its origin in the clavicle, to pull 
 forward ; another, from the acromion, to pull upward ; a third, 
 from the spine of the scapula, to pull backward. This arrange- 
 ment comprises the various portions and actions of this beauti- 
 ful muscle. In the finest forms, the insertion of the deltoid is half 
 way down the arm-bone, between the humerus head and elbow. 
 
 220. The coraco brachialis is a very useful muscle, and, 
 when in action, is always seen between the biceps and triceps 
 inside. It is inserted in the arm-bone, between the brachialis 
 
76 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 and third head of the triceps, and assists in throwing out the 
 arm. 
 
 221. There are two muscles belonging to those which move 
 the arm called supra spinatus and infra spinatus ; the first 
 arising above the spine of the scapula, and the other beneath it. 
 The supra spinatus is inserted into the great tuberosity of the 
 arm-bone, and performs the same motion as the middle part of 
 the deltoid. The infra spinatus is the largest of the two, and 
 has its origin from the base of the scapula, below the spine, and 
 is inserted with the supra spinatus. Both are essential to the 
 form of the back; though the first is underneath the spinal 
 portion of the trapezius, it affects the shape. The terres minor 
 is never seen ; but the terres major is always visible, or, rather, 
 its effect on the surface. It arises from the angle of the sca- 
 pula, and passes under the head of the triceps, under the arm- 
 bone, turns round, and is inserted in the ridge ; it goes with the 
 latissimus dorsi, acts with it, and is essential to a fine back. 
 
 222. These complete the muscles of the neck, back, shoulder- 
 blade, and arm ; and no artist, whether painter or sculptor, can 
 form a fine back who does not thoroughly understand them. I 
 need hardly add that those who understand their position and 
 uses, can best appreciate a finely formed figure, either in nature 
 or art, where they are fully developed or delineated. 
 
 223. To recapitulate 1st, the vertebra prominens; 2d, branch 
 of trapezius, along the spine of the scapula to the acromion, 
 each side parting round the vertebra prominens, and twisting a 
 little, as the occipital portion makes a turn to go into the shoul- 
 der-tips downwards ; then, 3d, comes the back and lower part ; 
 4th, the deltoid and its three portions ; 5th, the supra spinatus, 
 infra and terres major ; 6th, bit of rhomboid ; then, latissimus 
 dorsi, which completes this portion of the back and shoulders. 
 
 224. The muscles of the fore-arm are four : the Uceps and 
 brachialis, for bending ; the triceps and anconceus, for extending. 
 The Uceps is a very essential muscle. There is none, in the 
 human frame, whose form is more affected by action or repose. 
 
MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 77 
 
 Bend the arm, and it contracts like a ball ; extend the arm, and 
 it stretches like a string. It has its origin in two heads, which, 
 in the arms of strong men, are quite visible, especially in pugi- 
 lists, till the separation gradually unites and forms but one. 
 The biceps is inserted into the round tubercle of the radius. It 
 bends the fore-arm, and assists supination. As both heads are 
 from the scapula, it assists to lift the arm. 
 
 225. Immediately under the biceps, the brachialis internus 
 comes down each side the deltoid, about two-thirds the humerus, 
 and goes to the coronoid process of the ulna. In a strong man, 
 it is always well developed on the inside, projecting from the 
 edge of the biceps. 
 
 226. Upon the back part of the arm, three muscles are des- 
 cribed ; viz. : the extensor longus, brevis, and brachialis externus. 
 John Bell describes them as one three-headed muscle. The 
 longest head is the middle ; it has its origin from the edge of the 
 scapula, under the neck, and a little way from the origin of the 
 long head of the biceps. The second head is on the outside of 
 the arm ; it comes from the arm-bone, under the tuber, and just 
 below the insertion of the terres minor. These two meet in the 
 middle. The third is the shortest of all, and originates in the 
 inner side of the humerus, under the insertion of the terres 
 major, and joins the second head about the middle. All the 
 heads are implanted by a strong tendon in the projecting heel 
 of the ulna, the olecranon, by which projection it has great 
 power. 
 
 227. The three combined, form a very powerful muscle, and 
 cover with beautiful variety the whole back of the arm, and 
 their various muscular and tendinous endings produce a beauti- 
 ful variety of forms, both in action and repose, which must be 
 carefully observed in moulding or drawing the arm. 
 
 228. The anconceus rises from the ridge, and from the exter- 
 nal condyle of the humerus, by a thick, short tendon, and is in- 
 serted into the ridge of the ulna. 
 
 229. Besides the muscles, there are various sheets of tendi- 
 nous expansions, which spread over and enclose the arm. 
 
78 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 These brace down the muscles when in action, and, by resist- 
 ance, serve to increase their power. 
 
 230. With regard to the motion of the arm, it must be ob- 
 served, that the muscles on the back and neck going to the 
 scapula, move the scapula ; those on the scapula, move the arm ; 
 those on the arm, move the fore-arm ; those on the fore-arm, 
 move the hand. The perfect freedom of all the motions of the scap- 
 ula and arm is one of the great characteristics of the form of man. 
 
 231. The freedom of the arm from the shoulder-joint, re- 
 quires and possesses a gradation of power. The strongest power 
 being placed at the origin of the motion of the arm ; viz., at 
 the blade and back. First, the muscles that move the blade 
 are more powerful than those that move the arm ; and those of 
 the arm, than those of the fore-arm ; and those of the fore-arm 
 than those of the hand. This is a beautiful gradation of power, 
 and is a peculiarly human characteristic. 
 
 232. In forming the arm, one of the chief difficulties is in 
 managing the stringy muscles of the fore-arm. The motions to 
 be performed are three ; to roll the hand ; to bend the wrist ; 
 to bend the fingers. The turning of the hand is performed by 
 rolling the radius on the ulna. Turning it down is called pro- 
 nation, and turning it up is called supination. Then there are 
 two benders, one superficial and the other deep. There are 
 two flexors of the wrist; one called of the radius, the other of 
 the ulna ; one going along the radius, the other along the ulna. 
 There are also two pronators, one round and the other square. 
 
 233. All the muscles of the fore-arm rise from two points, 
 inner or outer condyle ; the inner condyle is the longest and 
 gives more power more being required for grasping than ex- 
 tending ; therefore all the muscles that bend the fingers, and 
 turn the palm down, come from this condyle. The exterior 
 condyle is shorter, less power being required merely to open 
 the fingers. All the extensors and supinators come from the 
 outer condyle, and all the pronators come from the inner. 
 
 234. Thearm,when well formed, tapers from the shoulder, the 
 deltoid being the greatest power ; reverse this, let the fore-arm 
 
MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 79 
 
 and hand be the longest and largest, it then has the quadruped 
 or animal form. 
 
 235. Of the numerous articulations of the head, one only 
 requires the attention of the artist, and that is, the articulation 
 of the lower jaw with the temporal bone. The movements of 
 the lower jaw, by the aid of its appropriate ligaments and 
 muscles, are down and up, and from side to side. It can also 
 be made to slide forward and back. The strength of the arti- 
 culation depends mainly on its muscles and their tendinous 
 attachments. 
 
 236. The head articulates with the atlas and the first cervical 
 vertebra. At the sides of the great occipital foramen, are two con- 
 dyles, ovoid and convex in form. These condyles are received into 
 corresponding concave facettes on the upper surface of the atlas. 
 Short and powerful ligaments connect the vertebra firmly to the 
 cranium, so that all the movements of the head are transmitted 
 securely to the atlas. 
 
 237. The two first cervical vertebrce articulate with each 
 other. On the lower surface of the atlas will be found two 
 slightly concave articular facettes. These rest on corresponding 
 slightly convex surfaces of the second vertebra or axis. Another 
 small ov&lfacette will be found on the inner side of the anterior 
 arch of the atlas. On this plays a corresponding facette of the 
 odontoid process of the axis. A transverse ligament converts 
 the anterior part of the hollow of the atlas into a ring in which 
 is received the odontoid process, and from which it cannot escape ; 
 the summit of the odontoid process being enlarged, and the 
 ligament being of great strength. Thus, the atlas and the head, 
 which always move together in semi-circular motions, play on 
 the odontoid process as on a pivot, which it really is. Fibrous 
 capsules enclose the corresponding articular surfaces of the 
 atlas and axis, strengthening, but at the same time, limiting and 
 regulating the action of these joints. Two short, but strong 
 ligaments, connect the summit and sides of the odontoid process 
 to the occipital bone. 
 
80 STUDY OF AET. 
 
 238. The movements of the head are consequently universal so 
 far as they go. It moves forward and backward upon the atlas. 
 With the atlas, it moves through a quarter of a circle to the 
 left, and through the same extent to the right, on the axis or 
 second vertebra. But if the movements of rotation extend 
 farther than this, then the whole vertebral column and even the 
 hip-joint contribute to the motion. The similarity and analogy 
 existing in the rest of the vertebrae renders it unnecessary to 
 describe them in detail. They articulate with each other 
 and with the ribs, and the spinous processes are connected by 
 various ligaments. From its mechanism and structural ar- 
 rangement, the vertebral column has the power of moving in 
 nearly all directions, rotating also upon its axis. 
 
 239. In the human form, the motion of the scapula, arm, 
 fore-arm, and hand, is perfect : not so in the quadruped. One 
 of the great distinctions in form is the power that man has of 
 making a free circle with his arm ; the shoulder-joint being the 
 centre of motion. 
 
 240. Man can turn his wrist down ; his elbow is a perfect 
 hinge ; the shoulder-joint is a ball and socket ; and to complete 
 all these, the scapula, the centre of these motions, is movable. 
 The moment the arm-bone moves above the horizontal position, 
 the acromion process of the scapula stops it, and the scapula 
 rolls on the trunk before it can go any higher. And here it is 
 necessary to remember, that the muscles that move the scapula, 
 come from the breast to move it forwards ; from the neck to 
 move it upwards, from the spine to move it backwards ; and, 
 from the side, that is, from the ribs, to move it downwards. 
 
 241. The arm when farthest removed from its natural pos- 
 ture, exerts the greatest force to recover its original station. 
 Thus in throwing a dart or stone, the arm is drawn back to 
 such a distance from the body as to acquire a rapid motion in 
 returning to its natural posture, and the force is in proportion 
 to the distance to which the arm is carried back. 
 
 242. The fore-arm can perform but two movements as re- 
 
MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 81 
 
 gards the arm, the one forwards, and the other backwards. When 
 the fore-arm is naturally bent on the arm, the former is not par- 
 .allel to the latter. To enable the fore-arm to meet the arm, a 
 movement of rotation must be performed by the humerus, suf- 
 ficient to carry the radius and ulna in an outward direction. In 
 regard to the flexion of the fore-arm, it is impossible to bring 
 the shoulder and the inferior extremity of the fore-arm in con- 
 tact. The obliquity of the elbow joint causes the fore-arm to 
 approach the front of the body. 
 
 243. The particular disposition of the bones of the fore-arm 
 favor their rotation. A cavity hollowed out on the inner side 
 of the articular notch of the ulna, receives the side of the head 
 of the radius; whilst inferiorly, it is the radius which has a 
 small, articular facette corresponding to the head of the ulna on 
 which it glides. The bones of the fore-arm move on each oth- 
 er, either forward or backward. The first of these is called 
 pronation, the second, supination. In order to effect the move- 
 ment of pronation, the head of the radius must turn in the ring 
 formed by the annular ligament, and the notch of the ulna. 
 The contrary movement takes place during supination. 
 
 244. Three bones of the carpus or wrist, articulate with the 
 bones of the fore-arm ; the two first with the radius, and the 
 last with the ulna. Ligaments placed on all sides of the joint, 
 maintain these bones in their position, and at the same time 
 permit extensive movements. 
 
 245. The carpus plays an important part in the movements 
 of the wrist-joint; all the small bones, articulated with each 
 other, and at the same time slightly movable, form a medium 
 of transition between the arm and fore-arm ; they increase the 
 extent of flexion and extension at the wrist-joint, adding at 
 once to the grace and strength of its movements. 
 
 246. The dimensions of the wrist are changed by the open- 
 ing and shutting of the hand. When the hand is shut, it be- 
 comes less than when it is open. The arm, on the contrary, 
 becomes larger when the hand is shut, and less when it is open ; 
 
 4* 
 
82 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the reason of this is, that in opening the hand, the muscles are 
 extended ; and when shut, they are contracted in length, and 
 thereby increase the size of the fore-arm. The fingers, as well 
 as the toes, partake of the customary changes of enlarging when 
 the joints are bent, and decreasing when they are extended. 
 
 247. No rules can be given for the depression or swelling of 
 the muscles, except this general one, that a muscle, when in a 
 state of action, and consequently contracted in its length, is 
 increased in bulk, and thereby increases the surrounding parts. 
 When in a state of rest, and extended to its full length, its bulk 
 and the surrounding parts are diminished. This is the neces- 
 sary consequence of the effect of muscular action so conspic- 
 uous in the arm, which, when extended, is nearly an eighth 
 part of its circumference less than when bent at the elbow, and 
 is larger or smaller in proportion as the angle made by bend- 
 ing is more or less acute. 
 
 248. The articulations of the hand are numerous. The first 
 metacarpal bone articulates with the trapezium. It may be made 
 to move in all directions. It also determines the motion of the 
 thumb in relation to the other fingers. The metacarpal bones 
 of the fingers are nearly immovable, being thoroughly con- 
 nected by ligaments. The forms of the articular surfaces of 
 the phalanges, and the ligaments connecting them, secure the 
 requisite strength and mobility. The first phalanges rotate on 
 the metacarpal bones, but the others move only in extension and 
 flexion. These latter movements are checked or limited by the 
 disposition of the articular surfaces and by the tension of the 
 ligaments. 
 
 249. The head of the femur, or thigh bone, is received into 
 the cotyloid cavity; a ^ro-cartilaginous ring, attached to the 
 border of the cavity, increases its depth, and serves to maintain 
 the head of the femur in its place. The round ligament unites the 
 head of the femur to the cotyloid cavity. A fibrous capsule, 
 attached on the one hand around the cotyloid cavity, and on the 
 other to the base of the neck of the femur, envelopes the joint 
 
MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 83 
 
 
 
 on all sides. The ligamentary apparatus of the joint, strong 
 though it be, is wholly unequal to its protection during violent 
 action ; its safety depends more on the vast strength of the sur- 
 rounding muscles and their tendons. The ball and socket char- 
 acter of the hip-joint admits of motion in nearly all directions. 
 Its movements are limited upwards by the brim of the acetabulum y 
 and backwards, or in extension, by the direction of the ligaments. 
 
 250. The muscles moving the thigh-bone, arise all from the 
 pelvis and trunk. Those moving the leg, come from the thigh. 
 Those moving the feet and toes, come from the leg. In walk- 
 ing, when the leg is on the ground, resting for the advance of 
 the other foot, the muscles of the leg being fixed, roll the pelvis 
 and trunk upon the limb. 
 
 251. The knee is seldom properly defined. The bone con- 
 struction is : first, the condyles ; then, the groove in front ; then, 
 the pan-bone and hollows ; the head and bump of the tibia and 
 fibula, which are the leading bone-guiding points. The pan- 
 bone is, in reality, a lever, or pulley. It is of an oval form, 
 with the smaller part downwards. At its base are attached the 
 four great extensor muscles of the leg. To the summit, or 
 apex, is attached the ligament of the patella. It is so formed 
 as to fit the trochlea of the femur, on which it plays during the 
 flexion and extension of the leg on the thigh. The projection 
 of this bone on the knee, removes the centre of motion, and 
 acting as a lever, by resisting the action of the extensor muscles 
 of the leg, increase their power, and this, in proportion to its 
 breadth and its resistance. A broad and powerful pan-bone is 
 an essential characteristic of a standard form for man. When 
 the knee is bent, the pan-bone sinks into the hollow ; when it is 
 extended, the pan rises, and increases the mechanical power, 
 just in proportion as the muscles lose their force. 
 
 252. The flexion of the leg on the thigh is limited by the 
 two coming in contact. A careful observation of the sliding 
 of the tibia over the articular surfaces of the femoral condyles 
 during flexion of the leg, will enable the artist to understand 
 
84 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the relative changes in the position of the bones. In passive 
 extension, the rotula is free and movable in all directions, limit- 
 ed, however, within due bounds by its ligaments, so that, in 
 point of fact, the rotula absolutely never changes its relation to 
 the tibia beyond a limit regulated by the length of the rotulian 
 ligament. 
 
 253. In active extension of the leg, that is, when the extensor 
 muscles are in full play, the patella, drawn upward, slides over 
 the condyles and pulley of the femur ; in flexion of the leg, it 
 performs the same action inversely ; in the meantime, its abso- 
 lute relation to the tibia is not altered in either case. 
 
 254. The movements of the foot take place chiefly in the ar- 
 ticulation of the astralagus and calcaneum, and in those of the 
 first and second rows of the tarsal bones. 
 
 255. Numerous ligaments strengthen all these joints, whilst 
 the general mobility of the foot is increased by the sum of all 
 the lesser movements, originating in the other articulations of the 
 tarsal bones. 
 
 256. The metatarsal bones scarcely move on the tarsal; the 
 first are as fixed as the others. 
 
 257. The phalanges of the toes resemble, in their movements, 
 those of the fingers, but they move much less freely. Their 
 most marked movement is extension. 
 
 258. In studying the articulations of the figure, the influence 
 of the surrounding tendons, aponeuroses and muscles, in pro- 
 tecting, strengthening and limiting their movements, must never 
 be lost sight of. In some figures, these forms are very distinctly 
 marked. In others, they are scarcely visible. As a general 
 rule, they are much less distinct than is usually supposed, even 
 when the muscular system is powerfully developed. To give 
 prominence to the muscles, action is necessary ; yet*, ordinary 
 movements slightly affect the exterior. Bold reliefs and deep 
 depressions display themselves only during energetic efforts. 
 
 259. Although, for example, all the muscular powers con- 
 tribute to the support of the body when standing, and every 
 
MUSCLES AND JOINTS. 85 
 
 
 
 individual movement, however gentle, requires the combined 
 action of a number of muscles, the arrangement of the forces and 
 levers is so perfect, the resistance yields so punctually to the 
 slightest contraction of these muscular powers, that their change 
 is effected without requiring any great muscular effort. In de- 
 fining these changes, it is necessary to avoid exaggeration. No- 
 thing is more quiet and simple, and nothing shows a grander 
 design, than the human figure, and its admirable harmony can- 
 not be overlooked. Strong muscular development, a capacious 
 chest and massive shoulders, indicate the strength of man, and 
 the labor for which he is fitted. On the contrary, grace and 
 delicacy mark the beauty of form in woman, and the different 
 position which she is designed to fill, (g) 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 GRAVITY OF THE FIGURE. 
 
 260. WHEN a figure is standing on a solid surface, either in 
 an upright or an inclined position, the spot that bears the weight, 
 is called the base of sustentation. The weight may be sus- 
 tained by one foot, or both ; but, the figure will not be in repose, 
 unless the parts of the body are in equilibrium around the 
 centre of gravity ; or, in other words, around the line exactly 
 perpendicular to the base of sustentation. 
 
 261. Motion is created by the loss of this due equipoise. 
 That is, by an inequality of weight. Nothing can move of 
 itself without losing its centre of gravity ; and the farther that 
 is removed the quicker and stronger will be the motion : As, 
 for instance, in running. With a slow step, the figure will re- 
 main nearly upright. 
 
 262. The centre of gravity may be supported or suspended; 
 ordinary standing, (station) is an example of the first; the 
 second occurs in suspension by the arms. 
 
 263. To remain standing, or immovable, in any position, the 
 vertical line, regulated by the centre of gravity, must always 
 fall on the space covered by the feet, so that all parts of the 
 body may materially counterbalance each other. 
 
 264. When the line of gravity falls beyond the base of sus- 
 tentation, the body inclines, and must of necessity fall, unless its 
 equilibrium is instantly restored by muscular efforts. 
 
 265. By separating the feet laterally, the base of sustenta- 
 tion is enlarged in that sense ; but, when in this position, a 
 
GRAVITY OF THE FIGURE. 87 
 
 feeble impulse will overthrow the person. It is quite the re- 
 VITSO when the feet are placed one before the other. 
 
 266. To the gravity of the figure the foot is most essential. 
 From its peculiar construction, it admits of every possible variety 
 of motion ; and, when not artificially cramped, the greatest pos- 
 sible freedom of action. Being placed at right angles with the 
 leg, it serves as a base of support for the weight of the figure. 
 A man with a wooden leg must have his crutch ; or, if an arti- 
 ficial one, he finds a cane, or third foot, indispensable. A 
 person with short feet will necessarily step quick and short. If 
 the feet are not proportioned to the size of the figure, there 
 can be no grace of motion. Venus, the goddess of grace as 
 well as of beauty, is represented by the ancient artists as having 
 feet a little larger than the natural standard of proportion. 
 
 267. The balance or equipoise in the human body is of two 
 sorts ; viz., simple and complex. Simple, when a man stands 
 upon his feet .without motion. If in this position he extends 
 his arms at different distances, or stoops, he changes his entire 
 form in relation to this upright line. For the centre of gravity 
 will always be on a line perpendicular to the centre of the foot 
 that supports the weight of his body. If he rests equally upon 
 both feet, then the middle of his chest will be perpendicular to 
 the middle of the line which measures the space between his 
 feet. 
 
 268. The complex-balance is occasioned by a man's carrying 
 a weight not his own, and which he bears by different motions ; 
 as in the figure of Hercules stifling Antaeus, by pressing him 
 against his breast with his arms, after having lifted him from 
 the ground. He throws as much of his own weight behind 
 the central line, as the weight of Anteus adds before. A man 
 carrying a load before him, will bend a little backwards, which 
 has the effect of a balancing weight, and thus he preserves his 
 centre of gravity. 
 
 269. Upon every change of motion or attitude of the body a 
 great variation is observable. For instance, in a figure stand- 
 ing perfectly still, resting equally on both feet, each leg sustains 
 
88 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 an equal weight, and the pit between the clavicle hangs in a 
 perpendicular line which rises from between the feet. If the 
 figure extends one arm, the pit recedes towards the other side, 
 or if he moves his leg only, the pit is also moved. By the 
 extension of his arm, the weight of his hand, together with that 
 of his arm, acts like a lever, and thereby alters his centre of 
 gravity. To prevent his falling, this weight must be counter- 
 poised ; therefore, he inclines his shoulder to the contrary side. 
 This inclination of the shoulder is observable chiefly in the 
 hips. If a ten pound weight is placed in the extended hand, 
 the effort to obtain an equilibrium is still more apparent. If 
 he receives the weight of twenty pounds in the same hand, it is 
 with difficulty that he decreases the quantity of weight on the 
 loaded side of his body. For the same reason, a man in danger 
 of falling on one side, always inclines his body to the opposite 
 side. In other words, he moves the centre of gravity. 
 
 270. When a person from a state of rest proceeds to walk, 
 he, in a similar manner, protrudes the centre of gravity for- 
 wards, and that in proportion to the briskness of his pace. In 
 a person walking leisurely, this is scarcely perceivable ; but in 
 one running swiftly, it becomes very apparent ; his head and 
 shoulders being in advance of the foot which springs from the 
 ground. If he runs against a strong wind, in order to over- 
 come its resistance, he throws himself still more forward, so 
 that if his weight is not duly disposed upon the centre of sup- 
 port, should the wind stop suddenly, he would inevitably fall 
 forwards. In walking, the centre of gravity is over the foot 
 that rests upon the ground. 
 
 271. In endeavoring to leap, a man bends his body to acquire 
 a spring, then quickly extends the junctures of the thighs, knees, 
 and feet ; by this extension, the body describes an oblique line 
 inclining forwards, and rising upwards. The motion directed 
 forwards, carries the body in that direction, and the motion in- 
 tended upwards, elevates it. These conjoined motions enable 
 the body to describe a large arch, which is the direction de- 
 scribed in jumping. 
 
GRAVITY OF THE FIGURE. 89 
 
 272. The attitudes of figures should always indicate the 
 degree of strength which they may rationally be supposed to 
 employ in their respective actions. When a man lifts a weight, 
 his body may be considered as the machine ; his legs, as the 
 prop, or support ; and the centre of gravity, his power. The 
 burden he is lifting is the weight, or resistance, to be overcome, 
 to accomplish which, he must throw more than an equal weight 
 on the opposite side. A man lifting a stick, or other equally 
 light substance, does not exert a force equal to one who is rais- 
 ing a beam. A person intending to strike a violent blow, first 
 averts himself from the object of his attack ; then, collecting all 
 his force, he discharges it with equal velocity, compounded of the 
 motion of his arm, and of the weight of the weapon with which 
 he strikes. If he is tearing anything out of the earth, he raises 
 the leg opposite the arm wherewith he acts, and bends the 
 knee. By these means, he balances himself on the other leg, 
 and retires backwards. 
 
 273. To represent a man removing a weight, the various 
 motions must be considered ; viz. : either a simple motion by 
 bending himself to raise the weight, or when he drags the 
 weight after him, or pushes it before him, or pulls it down with 
 a rope passing through a pulley. The weight of the man's 
 body pulls the more in proportion as the centre of his gravity is 
 removed from the centre of his support. To this must be added 
 the effort made by the legs and back, when they are bent, to 
 return to their natural straight position. 
 
 274. In sitting, a large portion of the muscular system re- 
 mains relaxed, and is, therefore, a position of repose. In rest- 
 ing on the knees, the base of sustentation is much narrower 
 than in sitting; hence, to avoid the fatigue attending it, the 
 body is thrown backwards, that the line of gravity may pass 
 through the limbs nearer to the feet. By this change, the base 
 of sustentation is much enlarged. 
 
 275. The various attitudes of the body, and the changes pro- 
 duced by them, must be carefully observed. When one side 
 bends in, the other has a corresponding projection. If the 
 
90 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 figure stands on tiptoe, the ball of the great toe belonging to the 
 foot that supports the weight of the body is then the base of 
 sustentation, and the weight must be balanced around it. 
 Wrestlers and rope-dancers practically understand these effects 
 and their causes, and much may be learned by carefully ob- 
 serving their motions. 
 
 276. Compare the loaded carriage, and the danger it runs of 
 being overturned when passing over uneven ground, with the 
 movements of man similarly situated, and observe how quickly 
 he, or any other animal, restores the equilibrium by balancing 
 the weight around the centre of gravity. 
 
 277. Persons carrying a weight before them, assume an 
 upright attitude, or incline backwards. The porter carrying a 
 load on his back, adopts precisely the reverse position. 
 
 278. The position of the shoulders, when the body is in mo- 
 tion, must also be observed. In walking, all bipeds lower the 
 part over the foot that is raised more than over that resting on 
 the ground, and the highest parts do just the contrary. This is 
 observed in the hips and shoulders of a man walking, when the 
 level is not as well preserved as in running. But, whether a 
 man moves slowly or quickly, the parts above the leg which 
 sustains the weight will always be lower than the others on the 
 opposite side. If the figure rests upon one foot, the shoulder 
 on that side will be lower than the other, and the pit of the neck 
 will fall perpendicularly over the middle of the leg which sup- 
 ports the body. 
 
 279. The means by which these varying results are pro- 
 duced, are the muscles and their tendons, the ligaments and the 
 aponeuroses. Muscular contraction, under the influence of the 
 will and other agents, acting with consciousness or without, is 
 the mainspring of all these movements. The tendons connect 
 the muscles with the bones, or passive levers of locomotion. 
 Whilst acting, the muscular fibre contracts or shortens itself, 
 swells, and becomes extremely hard. All muscles have their 
 antagonists ; when both act together with equal strength, the 
 
GRAVITY OF THE FIGURE. 91 
 
 part remains immovable, or moves in the diagonal of the acting 
 forces. 
 
 280. For the beautiful undulation of form resulting from mo- 
 tion, whether the attitude is transient or stationary, no rules 
 can be laid down ; and nothing but a thorough knowledge of the 
 figure and its parts, of the position and action of the muscles, 
 and the formation of the joints, can enable the artist to de- 
 lineate the ever-changing appearance of a being so complicated 
 in structure, and yet so simple in form. 
 
 281. Few figures are represented as well seated, owing gene- 
 rally to an inattention to the .difference in the length of the 
 body when seated and when standing. In an upright position, 
 the body always appears the longest, and, if represented in the 
 same way when seated, it cannot be naturally placed. The 
 figure then has the effect of sliding down. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DRAWING OF THE FIGURE. 
 
 282. AMONG the fine arts, painting takes the third rank. 
 Yet, no one of them requires the acquisition of so much scienti- 
 fic knowledge. The painter must first understand the science 
 of anatomy, or he cannot represent his forms correctly ; the 
 science of optics,, on which depends his light and shade, perspec- 
 tive and color the science of mathematics, or he cannot 
 apply these laws the science of chemistry, that he may know 
 the nature of his colors. He must also understand the laws of 
 gravity the laws of harmony and beauty the laws of ex- 
 pression, both in countenance and attitude; and, finally, the 
 laws of the human mind, to which his work is addressed. In 
 addition to these specific acquirements, he must have an ex- 
 tensive general knowledge, and a skill of hand acquired only by 
 years of practice. He may be master of all the sciences, and 
 yet, without this last accomplishment, he cannot even copy a 
 picture much less make an original design. 
 
 283. By correct drawing, is meant a distinct delineation of 
 form according to its construction and proportion. Mere sketch- 
 ing, with which many amuse themselves, amounts to nothing. 
 A student who wishes to attain the excellence of a skilful ar- 
 tist, must work according to rule ; and the first step towards 
 excellence is to acquire an accurate knowledge of form ; and 
 the next, the ability to draw a correct outline. Fuseli defines 
 outline as that which traces the circumference of an object; and 
 adds : " A correct outline may excite pleasure without coloring, 
 
DRAWING OF THE FIGURE. 93 
 
 but no coloring can afford equal satisfaction to a judicious eye 
 if the outline is incorrect ; for no coloring, no composition can 
 merit praise where the outline is defective." This is a standard 
 rule, the observance of which is too much neglected. Many 
 people have the very erroneous idea that, to genius, rules are 
 superfluous, and even some painters work under this error. 
 All artists who have attained distinction, however much they 
 may differ on other points, agree upon this one : the importance 
 of correct drawing. 
 
 284. On this subject, Barry says : " Drawing is the necessary 
 foundation of painting ; for, without correct drawing, it is impos- 
 sible to obtain the true representations of objects, the propor- 
 tions of figures, or a variety of action, or those visible fluctua- 
 tions in a figure which result from the wonderful combinations 
 of muscles, tendons and bones, by which the animal functions 
 are performed, exhibiting in the several limbs and parts the 
 exact degree of effort, proportioned to the action and the occa- 
 sion, and by which the inclinations and emotions of the soul are 
 visibly imprinted in the countenance and gesture." 
 
 285. With the true artist, the first and last great subject of 
 study is the drawing of the human figure, carefully learning the 
 form and proportion of the various parts, and the manner in 
 which they are brought into action. No one can make himself 
 master of it, without acquiring an accuracy of eye, and a skill 
 of hand, that make the delineation of other subjects a mere 
 pastime. 
 
 286. Haydon says : " Each particular passion, or action, will 
 excite a given number of muscles, none more nor less than re- 
 quisite. The rest will remain quiet. The bones, the things 
 moved, and the muscles, the things moving, are all covered by 
 skin ; and the mechanism of art is to express the passion, or in- 
 tention, and its consequences, by representing the muscles that 
 are, and those that are not influenced, giving their true effect 
 upon the surface that covers them. When the mind is thorough- 
 ly informed of the means beneath the skin, the eye instantly 
 comprehends the hint on its surface, and the action excited, if 
 
STUDY OF ART. 
 
 correctly delineated, is then true to nature, and the right ex- 
 pression is secured." 
 
 287. Leonardo da Vinci says, " The principal and most im- 
 portant consideration required in the drawing of figures, is, to 
 set the head well upon the shoulders, the chest upon the hips, 
 and the hips and shoulders upon the feet." 
 
 288. To accomplish this difficult art requires a thorough 
 knowledge of the anatomical structure of the figure, the posi- 
 tion and form of the bones, muscles, and joints ; their uses as 
 well as their effects upon the surface both in action and in re- 
 pose. In addition to this, the artist must have acquired great 
 mechanical skill in execution. With such knowledge and 
 ability, the mind and hand work in unison, and it is only when 
 they do (guided by an eye for the beautiful and graceful), that 
 those ideal forms are produced that the world acknowledges to 
 be standards of beauty. If by his limited knowledge and 
 practice, an artist is confined to a model, the figure represented 
 will be more or less individual, and of course, perishable ; for 
 history proves, that in works of art, ideal beauty is more pleas- 
 ing and will outlast the representation of individual beauty. 
 
 289. All the great masters were incessant in their study of 
 drawing ; and diligently practiced it, after having commenced 
 with coloring. Sir Joshua Reynolds, who deeply studied their 
 works, says, " When they conceived a work, they first made a 
 variety of sketches ; then a finished drawing of the whole ; 
 after that, a more correct drawing of every separate part, head, 
 hands, feet, and pieces of drapery ; they then painted the 
 picture, and after all, re-touched it from the life ;" and he adds, 
 " the pictures thus wrought with such pains, now appear like 
 the effect of enchantment. As if some mighty genius had 
 struck them off at a blow." 
 
 290. This spirited mode of performing a work, showing a 
 ready mind and a practiced hand, is termed by artists, execu- 
 tion. Michael Angelo's execution was powerful, the result of 
 hard study and long practice by which he had made himself 
 
DRAWING OF THE FIGURE. 95 
 
 master of bis art. On the contrary, a weak and feeble execu- 
 tion betrays an ignorant mind and an unpracticed hand. 
 
 291. A thorough knowledge of the rules of art, and a skill- 
 ful handling of the pencil require many years of laborious 
 practice. Michael Angelo studied anatomy twelve years; it 
 was his thorough knowledge of every bone and muscle, thus 
 acquired, that gave him such mastery in the art. Some of his 
 sketches show, that his practice was, first to draw the bones, 
 and then make out the figure upon that foundation. He had 
 made himself familiar with every muscle in the human frame, 
 and knew precisely which one should be brought in action to 
 express the passion or emotion that he wished to delineate. 
 With this thorough knowledge and practice of the grammar of 
 the art, rules are no restraint to that freedom of hand by which 
 pictures are produced that seem the result of inspiration. 
 
 292. Michael Angelo was not only a painter and sculptor, he 
 excelled also in architecture, and maintained that no man could 
 make a good architect, who did not thoroughly understand the 
 construction and proportions of the human figure. 
 
 293. Many authorities might be produced to prove the im- 
 portance of training artists of every grade to the highest 
 standard of excellence. And also, many facts stated to prove 
 the advantage that this training gives in the practice of art in 
 every department. " A dispute once arose between two artists, 
 Giordano, a historical painter, and Andrea del Sarto, a famous 
 painter of fruits and flowers. The latter maintained that his- 
 torical painters could not venture on these smaller subjects ; 
 while Giordano insisted that the greater included the less ; and 
 verified his words by painting a picture of birds, fruits, and 
 flowers, which so much excelled Andrea's, that he felt himself 
 entirely eclipsed and gave up the practice of the art."* 
 
 294. This fact proves, that the highest department of art is 
 the best field for the cultivation of talent. The ancient gladi- 
 ators were exercised with heavier arms than those with which 
 they fought ; because a person accustomed to perform things 
 
 * Lanzi, Vol II., p. 52. 
 
96 
 
 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 more difficult than the ordinary exercise of his employment 
 requires, makes it easy of accomplishment. For the same 
 reason the ancient tragedians accustomed themselves to declaim 
 when seated, which is much more difficult than the same exer- 
 cise when standing. This principle pervades the practice of 
 every art, and with proper culture a little talent is susceptible 
 of great improvement, and may be so developed as to produce 
 works of intrinsic excellence. 
 
 295. Benjamin West says, " It may be assumed as an unques- 
 tionable principle, that the artist who has made himself master 
 of the drawing of the human figure, in its moral and physical 
 expression, will succeed not only in portrait-painting, but in the 
 delineation of animals, and even of still-life, much better than 
 if he had directed his attention to inferior objects. For the 
 human figure in that point of consideration, in which it becomes 
 a model to art, is more beautiful than any other in nature ; and 
 is distinguished, above every other, by the variety of the pheno- 
 mena which it exhibits, arising from the different modifications 
 of feelings and passion. In my opinion, it would, therefore, be 
 of incalculable advantage to the public, if the drawing of the 
 human figure were taught as an elementary essential in educa- 
 tion. It would do more than any other species of oral or written 
 instruction, to implant among the youth of the noble and opu- 
 lent classes, that correctness of taste which is so ornamental to 
 their rank in society ; while it would guide the artisan in the 
 improvement of his productions in such a manner, as greatly to 
 enrich the stock of manufactures, and to increase the articles 
 of commerce ; and as the sight is, perhaps, the most delightful 
 of all our senses, this education of the eye would multiply the 
 sources of enjoyment. 
 
 296. " The value of the cultivated ear is well understood ; and 
 the time bestowed on the acquisition of the universal language 
 of music, is abundantly repaid by the gratification it affords, 
 although not employed in the communication of knowledge, but 
 merely as a source of agreeable sensation. Were the same 
 attention paid to the improvement of the eye, which is given to 
 
DRAWING OF THE FIGURE. 97 
 
 that of the ear, should we not be rewarded with as great an 
 increase of the blameless pleasures of life, from the powers of 
 discriminating hues and forms, as we derive from the know- 
 ledge of musical proportions and sounds ? The cultivation of 
 the sense of sight would have such an effect in improving even 
 the faculty of executing those productions of mechanical labor 
 which constitute so large a portion of the riches of a commer- 
 cial and refined people, that it ought to be regarded, among the 
 mere operative classes of society as a primary object in the 
 education of their apprentices. Indeed it may be confidently 
 asserted, that an artisan, accustomed to an accurate division of 
 outline, will, more readily than another not educated with equal 
 care in that particular, perceive the fitness or defects of every 
 species of mechanical contrivance; and, in consequence, be 
 enabled to suggest expedients which would tend to enlarge the 
 field of invention. We can form no idea to ourselves, how 
 many of the imperfections in the most ingenious of our 
 machines and engines would have been obviated, had the in- 
 ventors been accustomed to draw with accuracy. 
 
 297. '< But to the student of the fine arts, this important 
 branch of education will yield but few of the advantages it is 
 calculated to afford, unless his studies are directed by a philo- 
 sophical spirit, and the observation of physical expression 
 rendered conducive to some moral purpose. Without the 
 guidance of such a spirit, painting and sculpture are but orna- 
 mental manufactures ; and the works of Raffaelle and Michael 
 Angelo, considered without reference to the manifestations 
 which they exhibit of moral influence, possess no merit beyond 
 the productions of the ordinary paper-hanger." 
 
 298. The human figure presents to the student a subject in 
 the study of which he may learn the guiding principles for the 
 practice of every department of art. Complete success in form, 
 light and shade, and color, requires that the artist should apply 
 himself to the mastery of it, as a musician to the study of sound, 
 with its many variations and combinations, before attempting 
 musical composition. 
 
98 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 299. Nothing but this thorough preparation will enable him 
 to do justice to his own abilities. Many fine conceptions are 
 lost from the inability to give them expression, even when the 
 artist has become a proficient in what may be called surface 
 painting. The ambition to gain the title of self-taught artist, 
 has deterred many from acquiring the principles of art. Too 
 much is sacrificed to this limited aspiration, for none but self- 
 taught judges will commend self-taught artists, and the united 
 praises of their contemporaries will not save them from oblivion, 
 or their works from banishment, to make room for the productions 
 of their followers, belonging to the same remarkable order, who, 
 in turn, will have their little day, giving equal delight to con- 
 temporary friends and admirers. 
 
 300. We never hear of a self-taught musical composer, or a 
 self-taught poet. The world requires in them a strict obser- 
 vance of the rules of their respective arts, positively refusing to 
 tolerate musical errors, or false metre ; and, at the same time, 
 countenancing and encouraging the most unpardonable faults in 
 " brother Brush," who, confident of this favor, ignores all rules, 
 and defies all criticism, (h) 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PERSPECTIVE AND LINE. 
 
 301. THIS work will not include instruction in the important 
 department of perspective beyond an explanation of the funda- 
 mental principle. 
 
 302. The correct representation of objects as they appear to 
 the eye in their relative dimensions and distances, requires the 
 application of straight lines, without which it is difficult to suc- 
 ceed in the drawing of a complicated subject. If the student 
 would thoroughly understand the art, the first question for him 
 to ask is : Why must the straight lines be drawn ? It. is because 
 everything is made visible to us by light, and light moves in 
 straight lines. 
 
 303. In nature, what is termed the horizon-line, is always 
 found to be just the height of the eye. This is because the 
 earth is under the eye, and the sky above it. Consequently, 
 the line where the two meet is exactly on a level with the eye. 
 Any person can prove this by observation, either on a plain or 
 the sea shore. 
 
 304. It follows that the correct representation of a group of 
 objects on a plane surface must be regulated by a horizon-line, 
 corresponding to the natural horizon, dividing what should 
 appear above, and what below the eye. In arranging a picture, 
 this line must be first decided, because it controls every other 
 line in the composition. The point of sight where the lines 
 come to a focus, must be opposite the point of view, which is 
 without the picture. 
 
100 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 305. The point of distance, in perspective drawing, decides 
 the proportions of objects ; on the choice of this point, depends 
 both the truth and beauty of the representation. It is, therefore, 
 of great importance. No object, or group of objects, can be 
 seen to advantage, unless the spectator is at such a distance 
 from it, that he can conveniently and distinctly observe the 
 whole at a glance ; that is to say, without perceptibly moving 
 the head. 
 
 306. The horizon-line may be placed high or low, but never 
 changed after it is once fixed. The point of distance may be 
 near or remote, according to the taste and judgment of the ar- 
 tist, in reference to his subject. A study of the best pictures 
 of various masters shows that, in choosing the point of distance, 
 they were governed by no arbitrary rule. It is probable that 
 they first made a sketch of the subject, giving the desired effect, 
 and then corrected the arrangement by the laws of line and 
 perspective. 
 
 307. Placing^ the horizon-line higher or lower will be found 
 to vary the drawing in every respect. If placed too low, the 
 planes upon which the figures stand will appear shallow. By 
 placing it too high, they will appear steep. If the point of view, 
 or stand-point of the artist, is taken at too great a distance, the 
 figures will not be seen with sufficient distinctness. If taken 
 too near, the gradation is lost, which is necessary to ah agree- 
 able effect. When a picture is to be placed high, the point of 
 sight should be assumed low, and vice versa, in order to have 
 the horizon-line as near as possible to that of the spectator. 
 
 308. The centre of the picture does not necessarily mean the 
 central or middle point of the canvas. The perspective centre 
 may be nearer to one side than the other, or nearer to the top 
 than the bottom. 
 
 309. Fore-shortening belongs to the department of perspec- 
 tive. Any figure drawn in geometrical lines will appear more 
 or less fore-shortened, in proportion to its distance from the 
 point of sight and the horizon-line. 
 
 310. By studying the subject, the student will prove to him- 
 
PERSPECTIVE AND LINE. 101 
 
 self that rules deduced from the science of optics and of geom- 
 etry constitute what is properly called the art of perspective, (k) 
 
 311. Allston says: "By a line, in composition, is meant 
 something very different from the geometrical definition. Ori- 
 ginally, it was, no doubt, used as a metaphor ; but the needs of 
 art have long since converted this, and many other words of 
 like application, (as tone, etc.,) into technical terms. Line, thus, 
 signifies the course, or medium, through which the eye is led 
 from one part of the picture to another. The indication of this 
 course is various and multiform, appertaining equally to shape, 
 to color, and to light and dark ; in a word, to whatever attracts 
 and keeps the eye in motion. For the regulation of these lines 
 there is no rule absolute, except that they vary and unite ; nor 
 is the last strictly necessary, it being sufficient, if they so ter- 
 minate, that the transition from one to another is made naturally, 
 and without effort by the imagination. Nor can any laws be 
 laid down as to their peculiar character : this must depend on 
 the nature of the subject. 
 
 312. " In the wild and stormy scenes of Salvator Rosa, they 
 break upon us with the angular flash of lightning ; the eye is 
 dashed up one precipice only to be dashed down another ; then, 
 suddenly hurried to the sky, it shoots up, almost in a direct 
 line, to some sharp-edged rock ; whence pitched, as it were, into 
 a sea of clouds, bellying with circles, it partakes their motion, 
 and seems to reel, to roll, and to plunge with them into the 
 depths of air. 
 
 313. " If we pass from Salvator to Claude, we shall find a 
 system of lines totally different. Our first impression from 
 Claude is that of perfect unity, and this we have, even before 
 we are conscious of a single image, as if, circumscribing his 
 scenes by a magic circle, he had imposed his own mood on all 
 who entered it. The spell then opens ere it seems to have be 
 gun, acting upon us with a vague sense of limitless expanse, 
 yet so continuous, so gentle, so imperceptible in its remotest 
 gradations, as scarcely to be felt, till, combining with unity, we 
 
102 STUDY OF AET. 
 
 find the feeling embodied in the complete image of intellectual 
 repose, fullness and rest. The mind thus disposed, the charmed 
 eye glides into the scene ; a soft, undulating light leads it on, 
 from bank to bank, from shrub to shrub; now leaping and 
 sparkling over pebbly brooks and sunny sands ; now fainter and 
 fainter, dying away down shady slopes, then seemingly quenched 
 in some secluded dell ; yet, only for a moment, for a dimmer 
 ray again carries it onward, gently winding among the boles of 
 trees and rambling vines, that, skirting the ascent, seem to hem 
 in the twilight ; then, emerging into day, it flashes in sheets 
 over towers, and woods, and streams, when it finally dips into 
 an ocean, so far off, so twin-like with the sky, that the doubtful 
 horizon, unmarked by a line, leaves no point of rest ; and now, 
 as in a flickering arch, the fascinated eye seems to sail upward 
 like a bird, wheeling its flight through a mottled labyrinth of 
 clouds, on to the zenith; whence, gently inflected by some 
 shadowy mass, it slants again downward to a mass still deeper, 
 and still to another, and another, until it falls into the darkness 
 of some massive tree, focused like midnight in the brightest 
 noon; there stops the eye, instinctively closing, and giving 
 place to the soul, there to repose and to dream her dreams of 
 romance and love. 
 
 314. " From these two examples of their general effect, 
 some notion may be gathered of the different systems of the two 
 artists, and though no mention has been made of the particular 
 lines employed, their distinctive character may readily be in- 
 ferred from the kind of motion given to the eye in the descrip- 
 tions we have attempted. In the rapid, abrupt, contrasted, 
 whirling movement in the one, we have an exposition of an 
 irregular combination of the parabola, and the serpentine will 
 account for all the imperceptible transitions in the other. 
 
 315. " It would be easy to accumulate examples from other 
 artists who differ in the economy of line, not only from these, 
 but from each other, as Raffaelle, Michael Angelo, Corregio, 
 Titian, Poussin ; in a word, every painter deserving the name 
 of master ; for lines, here, may be called the tracks of thought, 
 
PERSPECTIVE AND LINE. 103 
 
 in which we follow the author's mind through his imaginary 
 creations. They hold, indeed, the same relation to painting 
 that versification does to poetry, an element of style ; for, what 
 is meant by a line in painting, is analogous to that which, in the 
 sister art, distinguishes the abrupt gait of Crabbe from the 
 sauntering walk of Cowley, and the ' long, majestic march ' of 
 Dry den, from the surging sweep of Milton." 
 
 316. Fuseli attaches the same importance to line as an ele- 
 ment of composition and says, "Various are the shapes in 
 which composition embodies its subject and presents it to our 
 eye. The cone or pyramid, the globe, the grape, flame, and 
 stream, the circle and its segments, lend their figure to elevate, 
 concentrate, round, diffuse themselves or undulate in its masses. 
 It towers in the Apollo, it darts its flame forward in the warrior 
 of the Agasias, its lambent spires wind upward with the 
 Laocoon ; it inverts the cone in the Hercules of Glycon, it 
 doubles it or undulates in Venus and the Graces. In the bland 
 central light of a globe imperceptibly gliding through lucid 
 demi-tints into rich reflected shades, it composes the spell of 
 Corregio, and entrances like a delicious dream ; whilst like a 
 torrent it rushes from the hand of Tintorett over the trembling 
 canvas in enormous wings of light and shade, and keeps all indi- 
 vidual importance in general effects. But whether its groups be 
 imbrowned on a lucid sky, or emerge from darkness, whether it 
 break like a meridian sun on the reflected object with Rubens, 
 or from Rembrandt, flash on it in lightning, whatever be its 
 forms or its effect, if it be more or less than what it ought to be 
 a vehicle, if it branch not out of the subject as the produce 
 of its root, if it do not contain all that distinguishes it from other 
 subjects, if it leave out aught that is characteristic and exclu- 
 sively its own, and admit what is superfluous or commonplace 
 it is no longer composition, it is grouping only, an ostenta- 
 tious or useless scaffolding about an edifice without a base ; such 
 was not the composition of Raffaelle." 
 
 317. For the choice of line, no specific rule can be given. 
 
104 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 The artist must be guided by the general laws of harmony, 
 which require that the line should be in keeping with the sub- 
 ject. It may be the parabola, the serpentine, or the angle. 
 Harmony also requires that the character chosen, should per- 
 vade every part of the work. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LIGHT AND SHADE 
 
 318. To understand the laws that govern light and shade, it 
 is necessary to refer to the laws of opitics, or, that branch of 
 knowledge which treats of the laws and properties of light and 
 of vision as performed by the eye. 
 
 319. First. Light is an emanation or something which pro- 
 ceeds from bodies by means of which they are made visible. 
 All bodies may be divided into self-luminous and non-luminous. 
 Self-luminous bodies are those which have the power of dis- 
 charging light. Non-luminous bodies are those which have 
 not the power of discharging light. One non-luminous body 
 may receive light from another non-luminous body and discharge 
 it upon a third ; but the light must originally come from some 
 self-luminous body. When a lighted candle is brought into a 
 dark room, the form of the flame is seen by its own light and 
 the objects in the room are made visible by the light which 
 they receive from the candle and again throw back. Those 
 objects on which the light of the candle does not fall, receive 
 reflected light. 
 
 320. Second. All bodies, whether self-luminous or non-lumi- 
 nous, discharge light of their own color. A red flame, or a red- 
 hot body, discharges red light. A piece of red cloth discharges 
 red light, though it is illuminated by the white light of the 
 sun. 
 
 321. Third. Light moves in straight lines, and consists of 
 separate and independent parts, called rays of light. If light 
 
 5* 
 
106 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 is admitted into a room through a small aperture, it will illumi- 
 nate a spot on the wall exactly opposite the sun ; the middle 
 of the spot, the middle of the hole, and the middle of the sun 
 all being in the same straight line. If there is dust or smoke 
 in the room, the progress of the light in straight lines will be 
 distinctly seen. If a small portion of the admitted light is 
 stopped, and the rest allowed to pass, the portion that passes is 
 not in the slightest degree affected by its separation from the 
 rest. The smallest portion of light, which can either be stopped 
 or allowed to pass, is called a ray of light. 
 
 322. Fourth. When light falls upon any body, part of it is 
 reflected, and part absorbed by the body or transmitted through 
 it. When the body is bright and well-polished, like silver, a 
 great part of the light is reflected. When the body is trans- 
 parent, like glass or water, nearly all the light is transmitted, 
 and only a small part reflected. 
 
 323. The principles of light, shade, and reflection as applied 
 to the purposes of art, are best illustrated by the illumination 
 of a ball, either by natural or artificial light. 
 
 324. Suppose a ball to be the object on which the light falls in 
 a direction of forty-five degrees, or the diagonal of a square, 
 and at a right angle from the ball to the place where you stand. 
 One half the ball will appear illuminated and the other dark. 
 This state of the two hemispheres, constitutes the two masses 
 of light and shade. In the centre of the mass of light, falls 
 the focus of illumination on the ball, between the centre of the 
 illumination and the circle of the ball. Where the illumination 
 reaches its extremity, lies what may be called the transparent 
 tint or shade ; and between this and the dark side, lies what is 
 called the aerial tint, or middle tint. The point of darkness, 
 the extreme shade, is directly opposite the focus of illumination, 
 between which and the aerial tint, lies the tint of reflection, or 
 reflected light. If the ball rests on a plane, it will cast a 
 shadow equal in length to one diameter and a quarter of the 
 ball. That shadow will be darker than the shade on the ball, 
 
LIGHT AND SHADE. 107 
 
 and the darkest part will be where the plane and ball come in 
 contact. 
 
 325. A shadow can be cast only by an object that intercepts 
 the progress of the rays of light. The object as we commonly 
 say, being in the light, casts a shadow. 
 
 326. The gradation of the shade, and the casting of the 
 shadow in works of art, is technically called sciagraphy, from 
 two Greek words signifying a shadow, and to describe. It is a 
 distinct science of which we give only a few of the leading 
 principles. 
 
 327. First. The comparative size of the luminary, and the 
 object illuminated must be considered. If the lumious object, 
 which causes the shadow, is larger than the body that inter- 
 cepts the light, the cast shadow diminishes in proportion to the 
 distance of that body from the source of light. But, if the 
 luminous body is the smallest, the shadow increases with the 
 distance. This is easily demonstrated by lines supposed to be 
 drawn from the source of light to the figure illuminated. 
 
 328. Second. The relative position of the luminary in rela- 
 tion to the object intercepting the light is to be considered, as 
 on that, as well as on their size depends the extent of the 
 shadow cast. If the light is high above the object, the shadow 
 will be short. If low, as at sunset, the shadow will be long. 
 Cast shadows vary in degree with the opacity, or transparency 
 of the objects by which they are thrown, and also, with the 
 degree of brilliancy in the source of light. When the light 
 proceeds from a small luminary, as a candle, or from a small 
 aperture, the shadows cast are stronger than when it proceeds 
 from the sun or open daylight, as they are then modified by the 
 reflection of the surrounding atmosphere. 
 
 329. For the effect of light on a group of objects, Titian says : 
 " Study the effect of light and shade on a bunch of grapes." 
 Each individual grape has its own light, shade, reflection, and 
 cast shadow ; and the bunch as a whole, has its focus of light, 
 its gradation, reflection, and cast shadow. The ball illustrates 
 the principle for the focus, gradation and reflection of light on 
 
108 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 a single object. The bunch of grapes illustrates it equally well 
 on a group of objects. The student will find the principle of 
 light, as derived from nature, made clear by studying the effect 
 of light, both natural and artificial, on these two objects, cast in 
 plaster. By studying the effect of light on the grapes, he will 
 learn how the gradations and reflections produce harmony of 
 light and shade. 
 
 330. It is sometimes said that we see no such effect in nature. 
 This is for the want of an opportunity. If a position could be 
 obtained where the effect of the sun-light upon the earth could 
 be observed, we should (supposing the world to be round) see 
 precisely the same effect that we find upon the ball with the 
 light coming from one luminary. 
 
 331. In regard to the relief of figures, objects contrasted 
 with a light back-ground, will appear much more detached than 
 those placed against a dark one. Those parts which are far- 
 thest from the light will remain the darkest, and every distinc- 
 tion of outline will be lost in the general mass of shadows ; and, 
 unless they have their reflexes, they will either cut hard upon 
 the ground, or appear to become a part of it. All bodies being 
 surrounded by light and shade, the artist may so arrange his 
 figures that the dark side will fall upon a light ground, and the 
 light side upon a dark ground. This arrangement serves to 
 detach the figure, and, at the same time, contributes to harmony 
 of effect. The reflected lights will be more or less apparent, in 
 proportion as they are seen against a darker or brighter ground, 
 because of the force of contrast. Reflected lights may be so 
 thrown as to modify the force of a cast shadow. 
 
 332. The term chiaro-scuro is adopted from the Italian; and, 
 in its primary and simplest sense, means the division of a single 
 object into light and shade ; and, in its widest compass, com- 
 prises the distribution of light and shade over a group of 
 objects. 
 
 333. The exclusive power of chiaro-scuro is to give substance 
 to form, place to figure, and to create space. In its appli- 
 
LIGHT AND SHADE. 109 
 
 cation to painting, chiaro-scuro comprises the proper gradations 
 of lights and shades on objects placed in certain positive lights, 
 and at certain distances. 
 
 334. Great care is necessary, both in the distribution and 
 their gradations from light to dark, because, by the arrangement 
 of these, the position of different objects is expressed in regard 
 to distance. 
 
 335. Shade must not be confounded with obscurity, which is 
 an entire privation of light, while shade is merely its gradation : 
 the figures in shade still being radiated by the general disper- 
 sion of light. From light to shade, there should be an imper- 
 ceptible transition. If the demi-tints, or semi-tones, are want- 
 ing, the lights appear like so many spots. For the gradation 
 of light that produces the demi-tints, (which are absolutely es- 
 sential to the unity of the parts,) there are two causes : first, the 
 objects recede from the light, and next, from the spectator. 
 
 336. In the distribution of light and shade on objects, their 
 forms must be considered. In nature, all forms are more or 
 less round ; and, when illuminated by the sun, or a flame, or by 
 an aperture admitting light, must have two relative extremes 
 of light and shade ; two balancing tints, the illuminated and re- 
 flected, divided by a middle or aerial tint. The effect of illumi- 
 nation by a flame, or aperture, differs from that of the sun in 
 this respect : the sun illumines all parts of the enlightened side 
 of an object, while the light of a flame, or light admitted 
 through an aperture, strikes only on the nearest point, pro- 
 ducing an effect more or less resembling natural light, according 
 to the relative dimensions of the light and the object, and the 
 distance which separates them. 
 
 337. Carefully observe the reflected lights giving them a soft 
 and transparent effect. Every object that receives light, re- 
 flects it upon some contiguous object, and it is only by pre- 
 serving these reflections that the proper relief can be given to 
 the various parts of a composition, particularly to those in the 
 shade. The reflected lights serve to detach objects that are 
 thrown in the shade, and give them distinctness, without which 
 
110 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 they would be lost in obscurity. From ignorance of their im- 
 portance and effect, a painter, sometimes, omits them ; and, for 
 the purpose of making each object distinct to the eye, gives one 
 broad glare of light over the whole subject. But light cannot 
 be made a substitute for more essential and indispensable re- 
 quisites. Too much of it only serves to destroy simplicity and 
 unity, and the spectator soon turns to some more quiet, and, 
 therefore, more attractive subject. The color of objects from 
 which reflected lights proceed must also be carefully observed, 
 because from them they take their hue. 
 
 338. Collection and combination are the great principles of 
 chiaro-scuro. The lights and shades must be so distributed as 
 to give force and strength to the picture, when viewed as a 
 whole. Excellence in this department requires that the artist 
 should collect and manage his lights in such a manner that each 
 one will support and relieve another. If they are multiplied, 
 broken, subdivided, no relief will be obtained; but, if the re- 
 lative parts are harmonized, and so arranged as to give shade to 
 light, and light to shade, they form a strong combination, and 
 produce a powerful effect. 
 
 339. In its application to art, light is divided into four differ- 
 ent kinds : natural, artificial, mixed and super-natural, or ideal. 
 
 340. Natural light proceeds directly from the sun, and varies: 
 first, according to the time of day ; second, when it proceeds 
 from a clear atmosphere, but is not direct from the sun, as, for 
 instance, from a northern window, where the direct rays of the 
 sun cannot enter, but are reflected ; third, when the rays of the 
 sun pass through clouds and mists ; fourth, moon-light. 
 
 341. When the light proceeds from the sun, the lights on the 
 objects that receive it are broad in proportion to the shadows 
 and shades. ( 327.) A subdued light is the most agreeable in a 
 picture, because it does not weary the eye, which shrinks from 
 a broad glare. It is not wearied with the same thing in nature, 
 for, in that, there is the variety of life and motion. As a sub- 
 stitute for the life of nature, which it is impossible for the artist 
 
LIGHT AND SHADE. Ill 
 
 to transfer to his canvas, he must, by the aid of his imagination, 
 give some ideal effect that will please the eye, or gratify the 
 taste. 
 
 342. Nothing gives the artist so good an opportunity for an 
 agreeable effect of light, as the presence of clouds or mists, 
 which present a subject that is universally pleasing. 
 
 343. In the representation of moon-light, but few excel. 
 
 344. Artificial light is that which proceeds from a candle, or 
 fire, and produces more or less effect, according to the presence 
 or absence of other light. In the application of artificial light, 
 the lights which fall on the subject are small, in proportion to 
 the shades and shadows, and, in order to obtain the right effect, 
 pictures representing an artificial light should be studied by 
 an artificial light, and the laws of sciagraphy carefully ob- 
 served. ( 327.) 
 
 345. By mixed light, is meant the introduction of both na- 
 tural and artificial lights in the same subject. This is a diffi- 
 cult art, but, if done with skill, may have great effect. Some 
 of the Dutch pictures of interiors furnish examples for the illus- 
 tration of the principles of chiaro-scuro, and also for mixed light, 
 which may be studied with great advantage. 
 
 346. Super-natural, or ideal light, is created by the imagina- 
 tion of the painter, and is regulated by the laws of artificial 
 light. (336.) Corregio's Notte is a fine example of super-natural 
 light as applied to art. 
 
 347. Aerial perspective belongs to the department of light 
 and shade, by which is meant such a gradation of light from the 
 fore-ground of a picture to the horizon-line, as will represent 
 each object introduced, according to its true distance from the 
 point of view. ( 333.) 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 COLOR AND ITS LAWS. 
 
 348. COLOR distinguishes painting from the other imitative 
 arts. Form, composition, design, expression, are common to 
 all. Complete success in the art of painting depends upon the 
 right combination and arrangement of colors. 
 
 349. The laws of light and shade, given in the last lesson, 
 apply also to color ; for bodies appear to us colored only in pro- 
 portion as they are illuminated by the light of the sun. Hence, 
 an object of any color, thrown entirely in the shade, becomes 
 colorless. 
 
 350. Red, blue, and yellow are the primary elements of all 
 color, and, from the union of these elements, in certain propor- 
 tions, is formed every conceivable variety of tint and hue. 
 White and black, in reference to art, are not considered as 
 colors, but as the modifiers of colors. The nature of colors, 
 their relation to one another, and the effect of light, shade and 
 reflection, must be well understood before a correct combination 
 can be formed. 
 
 351. Prismatic colors. Light, as it surrounds us, appears 
 white ; but we no sooner dissever a ray by the prism, than we 
 find that light contains three distinct colors ; viz. : red, blue, and 
 yellow. Other colors shown by the prism, the orange, green, 
 indigo, and violet, are formed by the intermingling of blue, red, 
 and yellow. 
 
COLOR AND ITS LAWS. 113 
 
 352. Order of rays : 
 
 Extreme red, (of a crimson character), discovered only when 
 the eye is protected from the glare of the other rays by a 
 cobalt blue glass ; 
 
 Red, first ray visible to the eye without the glass ; 
 
 Orange, formed by its passing into, and mingling with yellow ; 
 
 Yellow, the most intensely luminous of the rays ; 
 
 Green, formed by the intermingling of yellow and blue ; 
 
 Blue, in which the light rapidly diminishes ; 
 
 Indigo, deep blue ; 
 
 Violet, formed by the intermingling of blue and red ; 
 
 Lavender gray, a neutral tint produced by the combination 
 of red, blue, and yellow rays. 
 
 In regard to the natural colors, as they appear to the eye, 
 in the red, yellow and blue are subordinate ; in the yellow, 
 red and blue are subordinate ; in the blue, red and yellow are 
 subordinate ; and in the secondary colors the third primary is 
 subordinate. This theory is the basis of all good coloring. 
 Let the student in art place a mirror in such a manner as to 
 reflect the sky, or any other natural object, and then with his 
 palette match the color thrown upon it ; in the experiment he 
 will test this principle of nature for himself, and make it more 
 completely his own. (i) 
 
 353. Pure colors. Red, blue and yellow, being the primary 
 colors, it follows, that by the combination of these colors, in 
 certain proportions, every true variety of color and hue is pro- 
 duced. Let the student place on his palette, in a circular row, 
 a small portion of the primary colors, leaving intermediate 
 spaces between them. Then, with his pencil, mingle blue and 
 yellow, he will produce green ; mingle red and yellow, he will 
 produce orange ; mingle red and blue, and the product will be 
 violet. He then has six colors ; three primary, and three 
 secondary, which represent the only pure colors found in nature. 
 The extreme red and indigo, shown by the prism, are deep 
 shades of pure red and blue. 
 
 4 
 
114 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 354. Modified colors. The intensity of a pure color 
 may be modified and reduced in power, by mixing with 
 it a portion of the other two primaries; for instance, to 
 modify red, add yellow and blue; to modify blue, add 
 yellow and red; to modify yellow, add blue and red. The 
 color thus modified, retains its true character, but loses in 
 force. A secondary color, formed by the combination of 
 two primaries, may be modified by the addition of the third 
 primary. 
 
 355. Warm and cold colors. Warm colors so called, are 
 those that are allied to fire, as the red and yellow, and the 
 orange, formed by the combination of these two primaries. 
 Cold colors are blue and green, in which the warm are sub- 
 ordinate. The violet is intermediate between the warm and 
 cold. 
 
 35G. Natural order of colors. The same experiment that 
 illustrates the laws that determine the arrangement of light, 
 is the best for illustrating the order of colors, because 
 in respect to each there is a corresponding tone ; that is, in 
 regard to their brightness or intensity. A plain globe when 
 illuminated by the rays of the sun, will display all possible 
 shades of its own color. The focus of illumination will exhibit 
 the strongest color, and from that, there will be a regular gra- 
 dation to the deepest shade on the globe. ( 324.) 
 
 357. To understand the principles of color still farther, place 
 the prismatic colors on the ball ; yellow will answer to the focus 
 of illumination; next to which, the red naturally belongs. 
 These two intermingling, form the orange ; so that we have 
 first the yellow, then the orange, then red. Next to red belongs 
 the blue ; the mingling of these two primaries, red and blue, 
 forms the violet, the intermediate between the warm and cold 
 colors, and comes next in order ; then follows the green. With 
 this order of arrangement, the artist will always give the true 
 distance to each object introduced in his composition ; still, he 
 raust be careful to avoid formality, which, if he pays due atten- 
 
COLOR AND ITS LAWS. 115 
 
 tion to the modification of colors, is easily accomplished without 
 any violation of the rule of order. 
 
 358. Absorption of color. No body is perfectly transparent, 
 therefore in every substance that receives and transmits light, 
 more or less is lost by absorption. If all bodies absorb light 
 according to their opacity or transparency, it follows that they 
 absorb more or less color of which light is composed ; hence, 
 no painter can color according to nature, without combining all 
 three primaries in every hue of his palette. An artist ignorant 
 of these laws, will attempt to represent flesh tint with pure red 
 and white ; but, to imitate the colors of nature with truth, he 
 must add yellow and blue to his combination ; thus he will find 
 it in the representation of the rose, or any other tint of red. 
 Truth to nature requires the combination of the primary colors 
 in the representation of every natural object. Pure colors are 
 furnished in every variety, but the strong blues with which the 
 artist makes his rich greens, will not give the right hue to his 
 imitation of a blush rose. In his discrimination and combina- 
 tion, he shows his taste and skill. Some artists color with truth 
 and good taste, guided by the eye alone ; yet in imitating nature, 
 much is gained by understanding her laws, and making them 
 the foundation of his guiding principle. 
 
 359. Reflection of colors. Rays of light falling upon a body 
 more or less transparent, or opaque, are either absorbed or 
 reflected. In nature, absorption, as we have seen, shows the 
 secondary colors ; reflection shows the primary. A red sub- 
 stance absorbs the blue and yellow rays, and throws back the 
 red. A blue substance absorbs red and yellow, and throws 
 back the blue. A yellow absorbs the red and blue, and throws 
 back the yellow. This can clearly be seen if a white substance 
 is so placed as to receive the reflected rays from any blue, 
 red, or yellow body. This law of nature, that all bodies throw 
 back their own color, it is important for the artist to keep in 
 mind. 
 
 360. If a yellow body is placed against a white, the white 
 will receive yellow rays, which may be distinctly seen, while 
 
116 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the yellow will receive white light. If a red body is placed 
 against a yellow, there will, in the mutual reflection, be an in- 
 termingling of the two colors, forming a hue which the colorist 
 must, if he would be true to nature, carefully observe in his 
 reflected lights. This is absolutely essential to the atmosphere 
 of a picture. 
 
 361. Law of contrast. Let the student place on his palette 
 a portion of the three primary colors, blue, red, and yellow. 
 If he combines the yellow and the blue, green is formed. He 
 has then but two colors ; one primary and one secondary. The 
 red, being left pure, is then the contrasting color to the green. 
 By combining the red and the yellow, orange is formed ; blue 
 is then the pure and contrasting color. Red and blue combined, 
 form the violet, to which the pure yellow is the contrasting 
 color. Such is the simple law of contrast, and these three are 
 the only pure contrasts in nature ; all others being modifica- 
 tions. Whatever the combination, the purest color introduced, 
 which may be a secondary, is the contrasting one ; because it 
 has the most power over the eye. In the contrast between 
 pure red and green, red is the strongest, and commands the 
 eye. On the contrary, if the red is modified, and its strength 
 reduced by the addition of blue and yellow, and then opposed 
 to bright green, the green becomes the characteristic color of 
 the contrast. The effect of contrast in any combination is never 
 obtained without the modification of colors, on the principle of 
 pure contrast, both in the primaries and secondaries. 
 
 362. The contrast between red and green is considered the 
 purest, because in that there is the nearest balance of light and 
 shade ; the yellow and violet is the strongest ; and the blue and 
 orange the intermediate. The red and green, having all the 
 light that is necessary to contrast, with an equal balance of light 
 and shade, is the most pleasing to the eye. The contrast of 
 yellow and violet is positive and powerful, and is seldom found 
 in nature, compared with the frequency of red and green. The 
 blue and orange is more quiet, and produces less impression 
 
COLOR AND ITS LAWS. 117 
 
 than the other two. These characteristics prevail through all 
 the various modifications of contrast. 
 
 363. A strong contrast may be modified, still preserving its 
 truth and purity, by adding to the primary color, on which it 
 depends, a portion of the secondary color, formed by the min- 
 gling of the other two primaries. By this means, a combina- 
 tion of colors sometimes gains in depth and richness, what it 
 loses in force and brilliancy. 
 
 364. Law of harmony. Some subjects, from their character, 
 will not allow of the life and gaiety of contrasting colors. 
 Therefore, that effect must be destroyed, and the whole combi- 
 nation modified by the colors being brought into harmony, 
 which is done by mingling the tone-color of the composition 
 with every other introduced. 
 
 365. Suppose, for instance, red to be the tone-color contrasted 
 with green. Add red to the green, harmony is then produced, 
 and the life of the contrast destroyed. If blue exists as an ac- 
 companiment to the green, add red to the blue. If yellow is 
 introduced as an accompaniment to the red, add red to the 
 yellow. This mingling of the tone-color with every other one 
 used, destroys all contrast, and reduces the whole composition 
 to perfect harmony. 
 
 366. Tints. White and black are the representatives of light 
 and darkness, and, in relation to art, are considered as the modi- 
 fiers of colors. For instance, let us take a portion of pure red, 
 and add white to it, we then have a tint of that color ; add more 
 white, and we have another tint ; and so on, until a perfect 
 gradation is formed, even to the extreme light. 
 
 367. Shades. Take another portion of red, and add black to 
 it, we then have red, and a shade of red ; by adding more black, 
 another shade is produced. In this manner, shades are formed 
 in true gradation to the extreme dark. This may be illustrated 
 by a red ball, as in light and shade. 
 
 368. Hues. Let the student take a portion of the secondary 
 colors, and place them in the same manner as the primaries, in 
 a circular row. Then, by combining any two of the secondary 
 
118 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 colors, he will produce a modified color, properly called a hue. 
 In this way, he will obtain three hues, called primary. Then, 
 take a portion of any two of these hues, and combine them in 
 the same manner, he will produce secondary hues. In the pri- 
 mary hues, the force that characterizes pure colors is destroyed. 
 In the secondary hues, color becomes more neutralized ; still, 
 the hue is clear and pure, and this purity is essential to good 
 coloring. It is only this guiding principle of combination that 
 will secure the purity and transparency of color, which is an in- 
 dispensable requisite in this beautiful department of art. 
 
 369. Tone of color. The character of color is defined by the 
 word tone, which is applied either to a simple color or a combi- 
 nation of colors. For instance, we say of a picture : It has a 
 dull tone ; or, a brilliant tone, a clear tone, a gay tone, a sub- 
 dued tone. Every proper arrangement of colors, or composi- 
 tion of colors, has its prevailing tone. That is, one color which 
 controls all those with which it is associated. This color gives 
 character to the whole picture. Its ascendancy is preserved by 
 keeping in due subordination every hue, tint and shade intro- 
 duced. On this, depends the unity and harmony of the work as 
 a whole. The tone of color is given to nature by the tempera- 
 ture of the atmosphere. In a cold atmosphere, blues will pre- 
 dominate. In a warm atmosphere, the colors and hues will 
 exhibit more red and yellow. 
 
 370. Degradation. In coloring, this aerial effect that ex- 
 presses distance, is termed degradation, or keeping ; and, ac- 
 cording to this principle found in nature, color must not be 
 changed, or destroyed, in the distance, but subdued just in pro- 
 portion as objects recede from the fore-ground. If the distance 
 is obscured, the eye is never satisfied. Therefore, the artist 
 should leave no doubt as to how his back-ground is occupied. 
 He sometimes hides it, for the reason that it is beyond the reach 
 of his shade, and, for the same reason, paints hollow drapery, 
 from his utter inability to draw a figure. If he paints for the 
 ignorant only, this subterfuge may conceal the poverty of his 
 
COLOR AND ITS LAWS. 119 
 
 skill; but the better educated will detect his trick at a 
 glance, (j) 
 
 371. For the working of coiors, no very definite rules can be 
 given. The practice of the painter must be founded on the prin- 
 ciples of light, shade and color, as heretofore laid down. Success 
 depends upon the right observance of rules. That is,'they must 
 not be disregarded, neither should they be followed mechanical- 
 ly. The judgment and mental ability of the artist, which no 
 rules can supply, will decide his success. 
 
 372. " Benjamin West was led to try the effect of painting, 
 in the first place, with the pure primary colors, and softening 
 them afterwards with the semi-tints ; and the result confirmed 
 him in the notion that such was probably the peculiar method 
 of Titian. But, although this idea was suggested by his visits 
 to the collections of Venice, he was not perfectly satisfied with 
 its soundness as a rule, till many years after his arrival in Lon- 
 don, and many unsuccessful experiments." 
 
 373. The direction given by Washington Allston was to 
 paint the face at a sitting. One advantage of this practice is, 
 that the expression is not so liable to be of a mixed character. 
 If the artist is painting a portrait, he, in this mode of practice, 
 secures the likeness before there is any change in the mood of 
 the sitter. If an ideal picture, he has in his mind his concep- 
 tion of his subject, and, before that is lost, or changed by delay, 
 he impresses it upon the canvas. The great advantage of this 
 practice, in regard to execution, is an intermingling of the va- 
 rious colors on the canvas, by which the effect of nature is more 
 nearly approached, and more easily obtained. This can be 
 done with the brush on the canvas, as it cannot be done with 
 the knife on the palette. Allston said to a young artist : " Set 
 your palette, and your hand will find the colors." To me, he 
 gave the direction : " Paint the face at a sitting." Upon which 
 I practiced successfully. If a hand were introduced in the 
 picture, it was accomplished at another sitting, and this, I believe 
 
120 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 to be the best practice. It was also Gilbert Stewart's method, 
 whose portraits were charmingly natural and life-like. 
 
 374. In the various color books, directions are carefully given 
 for dead coloring, ground work, etc., the excellence of which the 
 artist may test, or, what is still better, find out a method for 
 himself. Every master, no doubt, had some way peculiar to 
 himself, which, if known, would explain the secret of his surface, 
 and which, perhaps, he could not himself have clearly defined to 
 a fellow artist. A general direction of Allston's was to make 
 light red, suiting the tint used to the tone of the subject, the 
 ground into which all other colors were worked, until the right 
 effect is obtained. This is the only method of practice by which 
 the appearance of life, that ever belongs to vitality, can be truly 
 imitated, and which no artist will be likely to secure by en- 
 deavoring to penetrate what he considers the secrets of a mas- 
 ter's practice. Let each one have his own secrets in execution, 
 and, if true to nature and his colors, he cannot fail to secure a 
 pleasing effect. 
 
 375. The greatest artists, both painters and sculptors, have, 
 in the execution of their w r orks, evidently been governed by the 
 principle that all objects found in nature are clear and distinct, 
 both in form and color ; and that the effect of the atmosphere is 
 to soften the lines, and subdue the colors, so that all that meets 
 the eye in a single view is rendered harmonious and pleasing as 
 a whole. Their skill, guided by this principle, enabled them to 
 give just the strength and force required for the right effect of 
 their work, when seen at its true distance. The weak and 
 ignorant, on the contrary, depend upon pleasing the eye, by the 
 most minute detail, and labored finish. With this finish, there 
 can be no true surface. Nothing to mark the individuality of 
 the work. Nothing to stamp it as the production of any one 
 artist. It exhibits only the finish of great mechanical labor, and 
 any patient hand can attain the same degree of skill. It re- 
 quires no head, and people of the least intellect will the most 
 excel in it. 
 
COLOR AND ITS LAWS. 121 
 
 376. The skill to give the right surface, to which the atmos- 
 phere will add the effect required, depends no less upon the 
 judgment, matured by experience, than upon native power and 
 genius. The great point is, for the artist, to leave off just where 
 the atmosphere can blend and harmonize the whole work, with- 
 out destroying its life and spirit. To those who are ignorant of 
 the requisites of art, this is not quite clear. To those who un- 
 destand the subject, the distinct stroke and decided touch that 
 characterize the work, are evidences of original and powerful 
 thought, as well as masterly execution. Such work is the re- 
 mote opposite of the labored finish, peculiar to mechanical 
 skill, and those who truly enjoy the one, can take little pleasure 
 in the other. When a work of art is well accomplished, the 
 pleasing effect produced absorbs all attention, and the surface 
 remains unobserved, until the spectator scrutinizes the picture, 
 for the purpose of deciding whether it is by the hand of 
 Raffaelle, or Titian, or Rembrandt, as it appears at first sight ; or 
 only a successful imitation of one of those masters. Amateurs, 
 familiar with their style of coloring, may be deceived. Those 
 who have studied their surface, or execution, never. 
 
 377. The number of painters who have excelled in this 
 beautiful department of art is very few. It is said that during 
 the last three hundred years, not more than eight or ten masters 
 have been good colorists. This has been attributed to the diffi- 
 culty of establishing rules for every variety of color and hue. 
 Perhaps it is because an appreciation of the beauty of color de- 
 pends upon an intuitive perception, with which few are gifted. 
 Some persons have no eye for color, as others have no ear for 
 music. And again, much depends upon education. The uncul- 
 tivated taste is gratified by the broad and dazzling glare, so 
 distasteful to the cultivated, which, in its refinement, relishes 
 the subdued and mellow tone that excites a more quiet and 
 dreamy pleasure. The softest and most harmonious tints are 
 those on which the eye reposes with lingering delight. Their 
 effect on the eye is like a low, soft melody upon the ear, that 
 
 6 
 
122 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 steals over the senses with the power of enchantment. And 
 happy the artist who understands this magic of color ; for, by a 
 charmed eye, all other senses are carried captive ; and, through 
 this medium, he commands a degree of attention and admiration 
 that yields to no other power of art. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 EXPRESSION. 
 
 378. WE have now considered the first principles of art, and 
 find that they include a knowledge of anatomy, and the laws 
 of optics, as applied to perspective, light, and shade, and color. 
 A knowledge of these sciences may be acquired by any diligent 
 student, who has the taste to pursue them. But, if he stops 
 here, he will only be a man of science. To succeed as an art- 
 ist, he must learn the more general and abstract principles of 
 nature, on the application of which his success so much depends. 
 The laws of science furnish the basis for the laws of imitation ; 
 but science can no longer be the only guide for the student in 
 art. Success depends on his ability to finish what science has 
 begun. Taste now dictates, the judgment and skill modify and 
 improve, and finally, the artist's own spirit must inform the 
 work of his hand. Here properly begins that ideal imitation, 
 for which his previous studies have prepared him. 
 
 379. Under the term expression, in art, is intended every- 
 thing that gives character to a work. The form, countenance, 
 attitude, color, must all be treated with reference to expression. 
 
 380. Expression is both definite and general. It belongs to 
 every part of a work, and stamps its value. Correct drawing 
 is considered the most essential requisite of art, correct expres- 
 sion, the highest attainment. The first is the foundation of all 
 other excellence, and is more easily acquired. The second adds 
 completion to the work, and demands greater abilities and ac- 
 quirements. The outline sketch gives the foundation ; embodies 
 
124: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the conception of the artist. From that, we learn his intention 
 or design. Light, shade, and color may add expression and 
 beauty to the character given in form, but cannot redeem its 
 defects. In nature, character is marked by the bone construc- 
 tion, the foundation of form, and it must be the same in all imi- 
 tations of nature. Proportion is as essential to truth of charac- 
 ter as to beauty of form. " The difference in the features of 
 various individuals, is principally owing to the size and propor- 
 tion of the bones that constitute the base of the face. Youth, 
 age, sickness, health, and even the stronger affections of the 
 mind, change the countenance ; but the diversity of feature, 
 marked by the length, breadth, or projection, produces the 
 diversity which marks the countenances, not only of nations, but 
 of individuals, so that no two of the human family could be 
 found who were precisely alike." 
 
 381. Fuseli remarks that " Expression principally consists in 
 representing the human body and all its parts in the action suit- 
 able to it ; in exhibiting in the face the several passions proper 
 to the figures, and marking the emotions they impress on the 
 other external parts. Frequently, the term expression is con- 
 founded with that of passion ; but the former implies a repre- 
 sentation of an object agreeably to its nature and character, and 
 the use or office it is intended to have in the work. Passion, 
 in painting, denotes a motion of the body accompanied with cer- 
 tain airs of the face which mark an agitation of soul. So that 
 every passion is an expression, but not every expression a 
 passion. 
 
 382. "It is important to distinguish the materials and the 
 spirit of expression. To give this, one must be a master of 
 forms, and of the hues that embody it. Without truth of line, 
 no true expression is possible. * * * To make a face speak 
 clearly and with propriety, it must not only be well constructed, 
 but have its own exclusive character. Though the elements of 
 the passions be the same in all, they neither speak in all with 
 equal energy, nor are circumscribed by equal limits. Though 
 joy be joy, and anger anger, the joy of the sanguine is not that 
 
EXPRESSION. 125 
 
 of the phlegmatic ; nor the anger of the melancholy that of the 
 fiery character; and the discriminations established by com- 
 plexion are equally conspicuous in those of climate, habit, edu- 
 cation and rank." 
 
 383. Character, with its infinite variations, and multiplied 
 forms of expression, furnishes the artist an inexhaustible sub- 
 ject of study. Of late years, the study of phrenology has in 
 some degree superseded that of pathnogony, much to the detri- 
 ment of art. 'Tis true, the form of the head is very important 
 as indicative of character ; but it is to the face that we look for 
 the ever-varying emotions of the mind, and for the expression 
 of those pure and ennobling sentiments that add interest to 
 beauty, and invest it with supreme and lasting command. The 
 artist who would excel in expression, must understand the phy- 
 sical construction, even to the hair and complexion, that belongs 
 to the temperament of his subject. 
 
 384. By the temperament is meant peculiar faculties and 
 dispositions of mind connected with the predominance of certain 
 portions of the organism over others. The temperaments are 
 divided into five different kinds ; the athletic, the sanguine, the 
 lymphatic, the nervous, and the bilious. 
 
 385. The athletic temperament is marked by a predominance 
 of the muscular system, intellect feeble ; sometimes, scarcely 
 existing. The skeleton or osseous frame-work solid, and the 
 joints large. Specimens of this temperament are not rare, and 
 are often met with at public places exhibiting their strength. 
 In these Herculean forms, the head is generally small, but the 
 temporal and masseter muscles are large, indicating strong 
 animal instincts. The face is large compared with the cranium ; 
 the features heavy and vulgar ; the eyes without expression, 
 yet sometimes brilliant and ferocious ; the locks and beard 
 abundant. A short and thick neck unites the head to a trunk 
 characterized by shoulders and chest of vast proportions, well 
 covered with enormously developed muscles. 
 
 386. Hercules is often erroneously represented with a heavy, 
 
126 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 massive, and over-loaded form. Strength does not depend 
 solely upon weight or bulk, but also upon the direction given to 
 the muscular powers by the quickness and address of the per- 
 ceptive faculities. Hercules was represented by the ancients as 
 assisting Atlas in sustaining the weight of the skies, yet they 
 attributed to him great speed and activity. 
 
 387. The athletic temperament is characterized by the pre- 
 dominance of the muscular system, and by a defective intelli- 
 gence, almost wholly replaced by animal instincts. This tem- 
 perament never occurs in women, however great their strength. 
 
 388. In the sanguine temperament, the form is rounded, as 
 in woman; and frequently, too heavy. The skin is strongly 
 colored and rosy, especially on the face, which is rather round 
 than oval. Fair, or chestnut-colored hair overshadows a fore- 
 head more ample than in the athlete. The eyes are blue or 
 gray, prominent, rounded, and fully open. The too prominent 
 cheeks seem occasionally to contract the orbits. The physiog- 
 nomy partakes of the general character, to which obesity is 
 often added. 
 
 389. The lymphatic temperament occurs frequently in the 
 female sex. It has for its character a dull, or dead- white skin, 
 of a fine tissue, and marked by a net-work of blue veins. The 
 contours are rounded but the tissues are deficient in firmness ; 
 at times, a certain morbid air pervades the appearance, and the 
 whole has a doughy look. Persons of this temperament have 
 generally fair hair and. blue eyes ; a rosy tint adds transparency 
 to their coloring. The intellectual faculties present nothing 
 peculiar. 
 
 390. With the nervous temperament, the physiognomy is 
 restless, and movable; the look pale and languid; the eyes 
 generally black, and vivid; the hair brown or black, and the 
 superficial veins prominent. The skin is transparent and the 
 muscular system not remarkable for strength. The nervous man 
 has an exalted and quick imagination, is disposed to melancholy 
 and exhibits ardent passion. 
 
 391. Men of the bilious temperament have a brownish color, 
 
EXPRESSION. 127 
 
 thin, elongated visage ; eyes and hair brown ; the superciliary 
 ridges prominent ; bushy eyebrows ; the look penetrating ; the 
 nose straight or aquiline ; lips thin and pale ; the body firm, 
 and as it were dry ; skin of a brownish tinge. To an intellect 
 equaling the nervous temperament, the bilious adds great per- 
 severance, overcoming obstacles by a most persevering resist- 
 ance ; occasionally cruel, and generally a prey to an insatiate 
 ambition. 
 
 392. These are the simple temperaments which are the most 
 rare. The compound temperaments are formed when the 
 simple unite and counterbalance each other in the same individ- 
 ual. When no one temperament predominates, the character is 
 indecisive. 
 
 393. No department is more difficult, or requires more care- 
 ful study than the expression belonging to temperament. In 
 the first place, the physical conformation and complexion are 
 determined by the temperament or rather, both are in har- 
 mony with it. Then the attitudes and actions proceeding from 
 the natural impulse of feeling and character, indicate the tem- 
 perament. Truth to nature requires, that the form, complexion, 
 and attitude should all be in keeping, or the expression in one, 
 will contradict the character indicated in another. The infinite 
 variations of action and attitude, like the infinite variations of 
 feature in the human countenance, mark individuality. 
 
 394. " Lavater told Goethe, that on a certain occasion, he 
 held the church-bag for the collection of offerings from the 
 people, when he tried to observe only the hands, and satisfied 
 himself that in every individual, the shape of the fingers and 
 hand, and the action expressive of the feeling in dropping the 
 gift, were, in each one, distinctly different and characteristic." 
 
 395. Of this peculiarity of individual muscular movement, 
 any person may satisfy himself, by observing at the church 
 door, on a Sabbath day, how every man as he enters uncovers 
 his head. Here all meet together for the ostensible object of 
 public worship, in an edifice set apart by common consent for 
 sacred purposes. Yet, the action of no two persons will mani- 
 
 5* 
 
128 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 fest precisely the same state of feeling on entering a house 
 dedicated to the worship of the one true God, in whom each 
 one professes to believe. 
 
 396. The same individual difference may be observed in the 
 step of the foot. No two are alike, so that the approach of a 
 person is often distinctly and surely announced to the accustomed, 
 listening ear. The foot is only changed from its habitual action by 
 an excited state of feeling, or when its movement is controlled 
 by the fear of detection. If we observed the feet as much as 
 the hands, we should, no doubt, find that the motions peculiar 
 to them are decidedly expressive of the general temperament, 
 and that their action regulates the gait of the figure, which is 
 ever indicative of character. 
 
 397. The expression of passion varies in different individuals. 
 " Some weep from anger others for tenderness and j oy, or for 
 suspicion. Some for real pain and torment ; whilst others weep 
 through compassion or grief. These different feelings will be 
 expressed by some with marks of despair ; by others with 
 moderation : some only shed tears ; others cry aloud ; another 
 has his face turned towards heaven, wringing his hands each 
 according to his different temperament." 
 
 398. Nature is the only true field for the study of tempera- 
 ments. Little more can be done for the student than to define 
 the characteristics that mark the simple temperaments. The 
 ability to distinguish the various shades of character, from the 
 strongest to the most delicate, that belong to the compound tem- 
 peraments, depends upon his powers of perception, of discrimi- 
 nation, and of appreciation. The judgment is matured, and 
 skill acquired, only by laborious and long continued observation 
 and study. 
 
 399. " In delineating the effects of passion, it is necessary to 
 remember that passionate excitement produces more or less 
 effect upon the whole figure. If one hand is clenched, it is 
 unnatural for the other to hang listlessly by the side. When 
 the face is stern and vindictive, the whole frame exhibits more 
 or less energy, and right expression of the whole requires 
 
EXPRESSION. 129 
 
 attention to every part : not only to each figure, but the group- 
 ing, invention, etc. If the scene requires strong expression, the 
 outline should be free, the light bold and clear, and the coloring 
 vivid. On the other hand, if the expression of strong feeling 
 and passion is not limited in delineation, it will either appear 
 theatrical or exaggerated, and have an unpleasant effect. To 
 give just enough, requires the exercise of taste and judgment, 
 for the force of expression must be in keeping with the charac- 
 ters, and in proportion to the occasion and the subject repre- 
 sented." 
 
 400. The artist must thoroughly understand the muscles of 
 the face, and the position of each one that is called into action, 
 to express the different passions or emotions excited. He must 
 then study nature where he finds integrity of nature ; not where 
 expression is restrained by conventional forms of propriety, or 
 studied concealment. 
 
 401. True expression has but one source the natural im- 
 pulse of irrepressible emotion. A correct imitation of the 
 muscles thus excited to action, will secure an interest in the 
 character represented. As a substitute for this natural action, 
 an artist may dictate, either to a laughing or a crying subject, 
 and the muscles obey the will of the sitter. If he then faith- 
 fully copies the effect produced, as he would be likely to do, he 
 will exhibit a disgusting picture of heartless affectation. 
 
 402. It is said of Leonardo da Vinci that, when he chanced 
 to see a man with an expression of character that he wished to 
 make use of in his work, he would follow him until he was able 
 to delineate the face upon the canvas. He had, as it were, com- 
 mitted the expression to memory, and could then pourtray it 
 with an effect of life, which he could not as well have given 
 with the sitter before him. ( k ) 
 
 403. The old Dutch and Flemish painters must have follow- 
 ed the same practice. True, they preferred uncultivated nature 
 to refined and polished life, and were evidently guided by the 
 principle that nothing of a medium character excites decided 
 interest. It must be rough nature in its true simplicity, or ex- 
 
 6* 
 
130 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 treme refinement with its polished grace. The most cultivated 
 and refined may appreciate the power and beauty of a strong, 
 uncultivated character, and enjoy it also, provided it is simple 
 and true to nature. 
 
 404. The most uncultivated, too, admire the polish and grace 
 of refinement, if it is so incorporated with the character as not 
 to destroy its native simplicity. A medium degree of refine- 
 ment, the boor will pass by unheeded. The affectation of it, he 
 will detect at a glance, while the gentle grace that it adds to 
 native strength and dignity, fails not to command his homage. 
 
 405. " All variations of expression depend on the muscles, 
 which are excited to action by the emotions of the mind, as in 
 mirth, admiration, anger, joy, sorrow, sadness, fear, pain. In 
 aiming to give to the features a right expression, the muscles 
 of the temples, eyes, and brows, must be carefully observed. 
 
 406. " The angle of the mouth has great power of expression. 
 In cheerful emotions, as laughter, smiling, etc., the angles are 
 pulled upwards. In fear, pride, hatred, revenge, disgust, con- 
 tempt, consciousness of power, the corners of the mouth are 
 drawn downwards. The union of so many muscles at the 
 angles of the lips, produces that fullness about the mouth, re- 
 markable in those who are thin and muscular. In the child, or 
 youth, whose face is plump, they make the dimple in the cheek. 
 The orbicularis is the opponent of all the muscles which are 
 concentrated from various points to the lips ; and it is by the 
 successive action and relaxation of these antagonistic muscles 
 that so much and so varied expression is given to the mouth. 
 
 407. " This circular muscle, which has no origin, and goes 
 entirely round the mouth, is affected in various emotions. It 
 tremblingly yields to the superior force of its counteracting 
 muscles, both in joy and in grief. It relaxes pleasantly in 
 smiling. It is drawn down more powerfully by its opponent 
 muscles in weeping. This is the largest and strongest muscle 
 of the face : it antagonizes all the rest ; shuts the mouth, and, 
 from an opening as wide as the mouth can require, it shuts it at 
 pleasure, so closely, as to retain the breath against all the force 
 
EXPRESSION. 131 
 
 of the lungs. It is the true antagonist of all the other muscles ; 
 yet. it acts mutually with them, in opening and shutting the 
 mouth. 
 
 408. " The bones determine the general form of the face ; one 
 great muscle, the masseter, gives the rounding of the cheek ; 
 the rest are delicate and movable muscles, and the character of 
 the face centres round the mouth and nostrils, where those 
 muscles converge. A thin and delicate face gains in expres- 
 sion where the cheek is hollow, and at the angle of the mouth, 
 where the lines are strong. In a full face, these lines are 
 obliterated, and the delicate turnings of thought and feeling 
 are lost. All but the more violent expressions of passion are 
 buried in the mass. The great lines of character are the lines 
 of the zygomatic muscle, coming from above, and of the trian- 
 gular muscle, coming from the chin; and the moving point 
 towards which they all act, is the corner of the mouth. 
 
 409. " In cheerful emotions, they all rise towards the eye, 
 which becomes full and distended. In the depressing passions, 
 the features sink, the eye is languid, and the whole countenance 
 has a serious, thoughtful cast. Still the corner of the mouth is 
 the central point of all these changes. 
 
 410. " The corners of the mouth are continually supported by 
 the action of the zygomatic muscles. They are raised in 
 smiling, so as to form a dimple. In laughter, they are raised 
 still higher, so as to swell the cheek, wrinkle the eye-lids, and 
 compress the eyes, till the tears begin to flow. The corner of 
 the mouth that is thus raised in laughter, is distorted in pride, 
 and drawn backward in rage, drops lower in grief, and, in 
 palsy, falls quite down. 
 
 411. " These various movements round the angle of the mouth 
 are the chief indications of passion in the face, and other indica- 
 tions proceed from the general system. A healthy body and 
 cheerful mind have the face full, the eye full, the back braced, 
 and the whole body in an active and excited condition. But 
 when the heart beats languid in grief, or palpitates in fear, the 
 face becomes pale, the features sink, the limbs tremble, the 
 
132 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 whole frame is cold, unbraced, and disinclined to motion. From 
 these general conditions of the system, proceed all those other 
 marks of passion which accompany the changes of the face ; for, 
 in grieij fear, and despair, the blood ebbs, the face is pale, and 
 the features sink. While in anger, the face is red, the eye- 
 brow contracted, the eye dilated, and strained towards the most 
 violent action. The breath is retained while the pulse beats 
 high ; therefore, the face becomes swollen ; the eye is fiery red ; 
 there is a grinding of the teeth ; the angles of the mouth are 
 strained backwards; the nostrils are raised and dilated; the 
 zygomatic, masseter, and -temporal muscles are in violent ac- 
 tion, which gives an angular and lineal hardness to all the 
 features, and saliva and foam proceed from the universal pres- 
 sure upon the glands." 
 
 412. Color, by its variations, heightens expression, and im- 
 parts animation to the face. Charles Bell says : " The sudden 
 flushing of the countenance, in blushing, belongs to expression, 
 as one of the many sources of sympathy that bind us together. 
 This suffusion serves no purpose of the economy, whilst we 
 must acknowledge the interest which it excites as an indication 
 of mind. It adds perfection to the features of beauty. 
 
 413. " The color which attends exertion, or the violent pas- 
 sions, as of rage, arises from general vascular excitement, and 
 differs from blushing. Blushing is too sudden and too partial to 
 be traced to the heart's action. That it is a provision for ex- 
 pression, may be inferred from the color extending only to the 
 surface of the face, neck, and breast, the parts most exposed. 
 It is not acquired : it is from the beginning. It is unlike the 
 effect of powerful, depressing emotions, which influence the 
 whole body. The sudden conviction of the criminal is felt in 
 every pore ; but the color caused by blushing gives brilliancy 
 and interest to the expression of the face. In this, we perceive 
 an advantage possessed by the fair family of mankind, and 
 which must be lost to the dark ; for I can hardly believe that a 
 blush may be seen in the Negro. We think of blushes as ac- 
 
EXPRESSION. 133 
 
 companying shame ; but it is indicative of excitement. There 
 is no shame when lively feeling makes a timid youth break 
 through the restraint which modesty and reserve have imposed. 
 It is becoming in youth, it is seemly in more advanced years in 
 women. Blushing assorts well with youthful and with effemi- 
 nate features, whilst nothing is more hateful than a dog-face 
 that exhibits no token of sensibility in the variations of color." 
 
 414. Every thing that enters into a composition of art, with- 
 out being indispensably necessary, is called an accessory. In a 
 historical picture, the principal figures are sometimes sufficient 
 to tell the story, or to express the idea that the artist intends to 
 convey. The rest included are accessories, and belong to ex- 
 pression. 
 
 415. Every character, and every scene has its appropriate 
 accessories, as poetry its appropriate similes, and, if these 
 are well selected, the whole costume of the picture will be 
 harmonious with the subject. If the accessories introduced are 
 too many and too remote, the picture will be wanting in simpli- 
 city. On the contrary, if they are so familiar as to leave no- 
 thing to the imagination, it will be wanting in character. Some 
 of the most successful painters have avoided the use of acces- 
 sories, lest they should divert the eye from the principal group. 
 
 416. " Cespedes, a Spanish painter of the tune of Philip II., 
 painted a famous picture of the last supper. Palomino extols 
 the beauty and dignity of the Savior's head, and the masterly 
 discrimination of character displayed in those of the apostles. 
 To the jars and vases in the fore-ground, there hangs the tale 
 that, while the picture was yet on the easel, these accessories, 
 by their exquisite finish, engaged the attention of some visitors, 
 to the exclusion of the higher parts of the composition, and to 
 the great disgust of the artist. 
 
 417. "' Andres !' cried he, to his servant, somewhat testily, 
 1 rub me out these things, since, after all my care and study, and 
 amongst so many figures, hands and expressions, people choose 
 to see nothing but these iinpertinencies.' And much entreaty 
 
134: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 and properly directed admiration was needed to save the devoted 
 pipkins from destruction." 
 
 418. Drapery properly classes with the accessories ; and, as 
 the modern artist seldom has occasion to draw the nude figure, 
 it is indispensable that he should understand draping in a cor- 
 rect manner. 
 
 419. It was the opinion of Carlo Maratti, that the arrange- 
 ment of drapery was more difficult than drawing the human 
 figure, because the right effect depends more upon the taste of 
 the artist, than upon any given rules. 
 
 420. Excellence, in this branch of art, depends upon the 
 number, size, and disposition of the folds ; for, on these, depends 
 the grace and beauty of the figure. The folds should be large 
 and few in number, because large folds produce masses of light 
 and shade ; while small ones, by multiplying the objects of view, 
 disturb the attention. If the quality of the drapery requires 
 small folds, they should be so distributed as to form a mass 
 equal to one principal fold. Then they must be fully relieved 
 by light and shade, or they lose their effect. 
 
 421. For the arrangement of the drapery, a few general rules 
 may be given. First : the drapery must be so disposed as to fit 
 the figure, and not conceal it. 
 
 422. Second : in a composition of many figures, care must be 
 taken to vary the size and quantity of the folds. 
 
 423. Third: folds of draperies should appear principally 
 where they are held on by the hands and arms of the figures, 
 and the rest left to fall with ease and simplicity. Where the 
 figure is fore-shortened, more folds are required than on the 
 other parts. 
 
 424. Fourth : the folds of draperies should be so disposed as 
 to preserve the true proportion of the figure, and leave no doubt 
 in regard to its position. 
 
 425. Fifth : the casts of the folds, in the several draperies, 
 must be in keeping with the attitude of the figure represented. 
 If it is in action, they must contribute spirit and energy. If 
 it is in quiet repose, they must be suited to that attitude. 
 
EXPRESSION. 
 
 135 
 
 426. Sixth : great spirit and force may be obtained by the 
 precipitate opposition of the lights and shades in the close and 
 deep folds, and grace, breadth and harmony by those more 
 ample and extended. Opportunities are everywhere afforded 
 of breaking all unavoidably rectangular, or other too definite 
 and regular appearances by the beautiful and variegated angles 
 that are formed between the origin and more dispersed parts of 
 the folds. 
 
 > Tr -^ '* 
 
 > ^ v *'. 
 
 Library. 
 
 Califor^*: 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 COMPOSITION. 
 
 427. IN pursuing the subject thus far, we have learned that 
 form, light and shade, color, and accessories, are to the painter, 
 as language to the poet. Success with either, requires that 
 each one should, first, master the elements of his chosen lan- 
 guage, and then compose according to the rules and require- 
 ments of his peculir art. By learning the physical laws of 
 nature, the artist has prepared himself in the essential elements of 
 imitation. But nature imposes her laws in every department 
 of art. To reach the mind, to which his work is addressed, he 
 must acquaint himself with the laws that govern its emotions, 
 and of the impression it receives through the medium of the 
 senses. 
 
 428. On this point, De Quincy says : " The different faculties 
 defined as reason, understanding, imagination, etc., exist in all 
 minds, though in different degrees ; and it is well known that no 
 one of these faculties can be substituted for another. For 
 instance, the perception of the understanding is not the exerr 
 cise of the imagination ; neither will the memory take the place 
 of the reason ; and all the imitative arts must be in some rela- 
 tion, either to the perceptive, the imaginative, or the reasoning 
 faculties. Every true work of imitation is more or less allied 
 to the laws of the mind. 
 
 429. " Tragical scenes excite terror and pity. Therefore, 
 if the artist represents a tragical scene, he must aim to excite 
 these emotions. Comic scenes, on the contrary, excite mirth 
 
COMPOSITION. 137 
 
 and malice, and to reach these emotions, he must choose a 
 different scene that requires a representation directly opposite. 
 
 430. " The mind is capable of very sudden transition ; still, 
 its receiving two distinct impressions at the same time is morally 
 impossible ; for, if an artist attempts to make two distinct im- 
 pressions, his work will have the effect of two distinct pictures. 
 And this divided attention will, of necessity, destroy all force of 
 impression. If one contradicts the other, the effect is displeasing 
 The artist must never lose sight of this law of unity ; for on 
 this, more than on any other, depends the pleasing effect of his 
 work. 
 
 431. " The unity of the mind is one of those truths whose 
 demonstration we readily find within ourselves. It is every 
 instant revealed to us by the relations of its action ; and the 
 very relations of our senses with that action, furnish us proofs 
 without end. Every one of our senses tells us that it cannot 
 receive simultaneous impressions from several causes at once. 
 In fact, no two senses can be actively employed at the same 
 time ; nor can any single one be strongly affected at the very 
 same instant by several or even by only two sensations. I say 
 actively because, in truth, all our senses are endowed with an 
 active and a passive principle, and it is by the effect of this 
 double quality that we are enabled to see at one and the same 
 time two objects distant from each other. There is, however, 
 in such a case, a great difference between the manner in which 
 each is viewed. One only is seen intuitively, and one atten- 
 tively regarded. We hear several sounds, but can listen only to 
 one. 
 
 432. " The action of the mind frequently gives rise to illusion, 
 and the rapidity of that action is the cause of its movement not 
 being distinctly comprehended. The mind glances rapidly over 
 the objects presented to it, and passes with so much celerity 
 from one sensation to another, that its operations appear simul- 
 taneous, while, in fact, they are successive. Thus, it appears to 
 apprehend, by one and the same intuitive act, both the form of 
 a body, and the color with which that form is invested ; but it 
 
 6* 
 
138 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 can only enjoy one after the other, the impressions produced by 
 the form and by the color. It is one thing for the mind to 
 receive impressions, and another to make them its own. Per- 
 ception may be rapid, but it requires attention to profit by it. 
 It is also worthy of remark that this rapid transition, of which 
 the mind is capable, seldom takes place, but with regard to 
 objects that are indifferent to it, trivial ideas, or feeble sensa- 
 tions. 
 
 433. "Whatever goes to prove the unity of the action of the 
 mind, and the impossibility of its being so divided as to be 
 occupied by two sensations, equally tends to establish the law 
 of unity in imitation, whether considered generally as regards 
 the respective properties of the several acts, or, the elements 
 of which an individual act is composed. 
 
 434. " Every one will allow that unity is violated whenever 
 the work of a single act, presents more than one subject in a 
 composition ; one interest in an action ; one character in a per- 
 sonage ; one principal event in a poem ; one historical trait in 
 a picture ; one point of sight in a view or perspective drawing, 
 etc. Under such circumstances, the mind would receive only 
 disjunctive and incongruous impressions. It would pass more or 
 less rapidly from, one to another, but experience neither an 
 entire impression, nor a complete sensation not being entirely 
 affected, it would either not enjoy at all, or, that enjoyment 
 would be but feeble. 
 
 435. "This principle of unity of the mind, proves the 
 necessity of unity of imitation ; and the effect of unity of imita- 
 tion, would, were it necessary, prove the unity of the mind."* 
 
 436. The painter seldom invents his scenes or subjects. 
 These are furnished him by the poet or historian. He then 
 displays his ability for invention in delineating them according 
 to the mode of expression afforded by his own art. This re- 
 quires powers of mind fully equal to those that first originated 
 
 * De Quincy on The Fine Arts. 
 
COMPOSITION. 139 
 
 the story, for the painter is bound to follow the ideas already 
 expressed, and, to translate them, as it were, into the language 
 of another art. He must in his own mind, remodel the subject 
 chosen, and then express upon the canvas, sentiments and feel- 
 ings corresponding to his conception of it. Here properly 
 begins the artist's invention, and his merit in this department 
 consists in conveying a correct, clear, and forcible impression 
 to the mind of the spectator. Upon a superficial view, this 
 may seem an easy task yet to excel in it, requires the exercise 
 of the highest mental faculties. Success depends, first upon the 
 artist's choosing a subject adapted to his powers of conception, 
 next upon his ability to delineate it in the manner required by 
 his medium of expression. To accomplish this, an accurate 
 knowledge of the rules of art, and great acquisition in mechani- 
 cal skill are no less necessary, than the mental ability for con- 
 ceiving the subject, the powers of discrimination to select the 
 beautiful and true, and the judgment to decide upon the suitable 
 and appropriate in reference to the character of his work. 
 
 437. Before proceeding to composition, the artist should first 
 classify his subject. After deciding upon the impression he 
 intends to convey, he chooses his figures, his tone of color, and 
 the accessories on which he depends for expression. In the 
 selection of the characters introduced, their relative position 
 and attitude, the management of the light, shade, and color, the 
 arrangement of the back-ground and accessories, the artist 
 shows his design ; or, in other words, his conception of the 
 subject that he endeavors to express upon the canvas by the 
 imitation of various objects. Success in composition, requires 
 first, a careful observance of the rules as already treated in the 
 various elements of art ; next, to compose with accuracy and 
 beauty, the artist must understand the principles of Perspec- 
 tive, Line, Light, and Shade, Colors, Variety, Repose, Simpli- 
 city, and Harmony. Perspective and Line demand the first 
 attention. ( 301, 311.) 
 
 438. In a dramatic representation, there must be a hero, or 
 
 5* 
 
140 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 heroine, who sustains the principal part, and to whom all the 
 other characters belonging to the scene, however subordinate, 
 have a due relation. The same rule must govern the arrange- 
 ment of figures in a pictorial representation. There must be 
 one who, as the hero of the story, occupies the centre of the 
 picture. His position, attitude, and expression, should give him 
 a marked distinction from others introduced, who are merely 
 his attendants, and should be made to appear as subordinate 
 characters. The principal figure should receive the strongest 
 light, and the most striking color : the greatest force and effect 
 that can be given by what most attracts the eye. The other 
 characters introduced should then receive light, color, and ex- 
 pression according to their relative importance in the group, or 
 their distances from the centre. 
 
 439. In regard to the number of figures introduced in a picture, 
 the best artists are governed by the same rule as the best dra- 
 matic writers, who included in their compositions the smallest 
 number possible. Nothing is so injurious to effect as a crowded 
 picture. If the subject requires the introduction of many 
 figures, they should be distributed in masses, or groups, in dif- 
 ferent gradations, all indicating a subordinate relation to one 
 principal group, or mass, which should occupy, in the centre, a 
 place corresponding to that of the principal figure, or personage, 
 in a composition including three or four figures. In some of 
 the best compositions of the best masters, a single group of four 
 or five figures is found sufficient to tell an interesting story, and 
 to display great artistic ability. The object in breaking a com- 
 position into groups, is that the eye, in passing from one to 
 another, may, by having a distinct classification of the parts, 
 easily comprehend the whole. When a mass of people are 
 crowded together, and no prominence given to any one person, 
 or any number of persons divided from the rest with reference 
 to the effect of gradation, it is then merely grouping, not compo- 
 sing. A distinction which it is important for the artist to bear 
 in mind. 
 
 440. Figures should be more or less varied in attitude, be-r 
 
COMPOSITION. 141 
 
 cause an exact repetition of line produces formality. The 
 manner and extent of variation must be decided by the subject. 
 They must also vary in regard to prominence. The artist who 
 i-i-prescnts all the figures introduced in his picture, as holding 
 the same rank, making each one equally prominent, understands 
 nothing of the principles of nature, or the laws of art. The 
 same artist will, with great labor, bring forward, on his canvas, 
 the most insignificant objects ; for trivial minds ever value tri- 
 vial things. 
 
 441. The chiaro-scuro of a composition requires great care 
 and study. It comprehends not only its adaptation to the cha- 
 racter of the subject, but a due attention to the properties of 
 objects included, in regard to their power of absorbing or re- 
 flecting light ; the mechanical arrangement of light, shade, and 
 reflexes ; and the proportional force of colors, according to the 
 laws of aerial perspective. In the distribution of light and 
 shade, mathematical accuracy requires nothing incompatible 
 with taste and effect ; and it is only by duly observing the laws 
 that govern light and shade, and the rules founded on those 
 laws, that a harmonious and expressive chiaro-scuro can be 
 produced. 
 
 442. The source and direction of light, and its proportion to 
 the shade must be decided by the character of the subject. As 
 a general rule, light from above has the best effect. Because, 
 first, the shadows are shorter ; second, the forms appear better 
 than when the light strikes in an oblique direction ; third, this 
 arrangement of light makes the plan of the picture more clear. 
 Light should fall more or less obliquely, according to the depth 
 of shade required for expression. 
 
 443. Unity of light in a picture is an established rule of art 
 founded on a law of nature. This gives one focus, which should 
 be near the middle of the canvas. The figures, with regard to 
 the focus of light, should be so grouped that the principal one 
 will receive it. This figure then becomes the centre of obser- 
 vation ; for the eye is ever attracted by light and turns instinc- 
 
 5 
 
142 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 tively to it. Other figures introduced should receive the light 
 in due gradation, according to their relative position to the pro- 
 minent character of the group represented. Gradation, so in- 
 dispensable to harmony, requires that the secondary lights 
 should be nearly equal in force, though not in extent, to the 
 principal light. It will be readily seen, that under the proper 
 regulation of laws, light is to the artist a language, or medium 
 of expression, that he cannot well spare ; and that without a 
 due observance of the laws of light, the plan of his picture will 
 be more or less confused, and admit of no definite interpreta- 
 tion. 
 
 444. Two lights may be introduced in a picture, if one is 
 made predominant, to which the other is entirely subordinate, 
 as in the greater and lesser lights of nature. There are fine 
 examples of the introduction of two lights among the old Dutch 
 painters. Sometimes both natural ; and again, one natural and 
 the other artificial. 
 
 445. Objects receiving light, should not be extended to the 
 margin, because, in the first place, the lights cannot be well 
 supported by the shades. In the next, extending the lights 
 quite to the boundary gives the effect of an unfinished picture, 
 which destroys the unity so essential to the harmony and com- 
 pletion of the subject. 
 
 446. The lights, as well as the figures, should vary in form. 
 This depends much upon the management of the drapery. In 
 the infinitely various modes of arranging draperies, the artist 
 may contract or extend his lights at pleasure, varying the general 
 effect to any extent. 
 
 447. " If the light and shade in a picture are well arranged, 
 and in due quantity, the effect will be pleasing, even at such 
 distance from the eye that the subject cannot be distinguished. 
 It is then a mere correspondence, or a balancing of light and 
 shade. On a nearer approach, its force and powerful relief 
 attract the eye, and fix the attention of the spectator. It will 
 not have this effect, unless it possesses the essential requisites 
 of chiaro-scuro" 
 
COMPOSITION. 143 
 
 448. Barry remarks, that extensive shades contribute greatly 
 to the beautiful as well as the grand and majestic result of the 
 whole together ; they equally serve to give richness and grace 
 to the middle tints, and brilliancy, beauty, and animation to 
 the masses of light ; they also afford a repose no less grateful 
 and necessary to prevent the fatigue and over-exertion of the 
 sight on the illuminated parts. To this end, all the obscure or 
 dark parts should be so arranged as to form one general mass, 
 and its greatest force collected into some one part, where it will 
 have the best effect, and become a principal on which all the 
 others are in a graduated and harmonious dependence. With 
 respect to this mass of shade, it need hardly be observed, that 
 even where most vigorous, it is not a mere blot, which obliterates 
 wherever it is extended. The occasions are very few, where 
 either the form or the proper color of objects can be thus totally 
 lost because objects in the strongest shade are only deprived 
 of direct light ; they are more or less illuminated by the sur- 
 rounding atmosphere, and the reflected lights from other bodies. 
 The united portions of this mass of shade, are, like the masses 
 of light, equally susceptible of all the variations of size and 
 figure. The interposition of drapery, its accidental casts of 
 folds, and many other things in their nature purely optional, 
 may be made use of, when they do not interfere with propriety 
 and other important considerations. By these happy artifices, 
 the shades may be occasionally contracted or extended, and 
 made to assume any desired form, and reflexes obtained wher- 
 ever they will produce a good effect. 
 
 449. Color, in its choice and arrangement, must be considered 
 in relation to the whole of a picture, as well as the parts of 
 which it is composed. " In relation to the whole, the subject 
 must be considered, before deciding the choice of a tone color, 
 which may be suited to the grave, the gay, or the solemn. As 
 for instance, the quiet twilight, which is the tone for devotion, or 
 cloistered meditation. This primary tone depends on choice, 
 and is arbitrary ; decides all the rest, as the tone of the first 
 
144: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 violin in regular concert tunes all the voices and all the instru- 
 ments. Its effect entirely depends on the harmony of the sur- 
 rounding tones, and its principal value is derived from contrast. 
 By this, the simplest tone, well managed, may become rich, 
 splendid, and harmonious. It is then the tone of nature ; whilst 
 the most brilliant color, if contradicted or disappointed, becomes 
 leathern, heavy, and discordant." 
 
 450. The character or expression of a picture may be beau- 
 tifully completed by the tone of color adopted ; and again, all 
 effect destroyed if the color contradicts the subject. The com- 
 plete success of the painter, in every subject attempted, depends 
 much on the choice of his tone color. Gay colors are to a grave 
 subject, like double quick time to a funeral dirge ; or, the nar- 
 rative of a tragedy in a light and flippant tone. " The same 
 good taste and propriety that regulates the light and shade, will 
 also decide the tone color ; which, when once chosen, must pre- 
 dominate over all the rest introduced in the picture." ( 369.) 
 
 451. This rule also, has its foundation in nature. Observe 
 the colors as we find them in the various climates. The bril- 
 liant colors of the tropics are never mingled with the cold, blue- 
 greens of the northern regions. Or, take for example, the 
 seasons, and observe the delicate tint of the flowers that har- 
 monize with the fresh, young green of spring ; and then as the 
 season changes to summer, every thing becomes warmer, and 
 more brilliant. Still there is one prevailing tone; and in 
 autumn, as the greens assume a deeper shade, in the full ma- 
 turity that precedes decay, how rich and deep-toned are the 
 fruits and flowers of that luxuriant season ! Till finally, in 
 their decay, every thing assumes alike the russet-brown, in 
 obedience to the immutable laws of harmony ; when, as if to 
 compensate for the loss of color, nature envelopes herself in 
 that soft and hazy atmosphere, that lends a beauty to the bright 
 cheek of youth, as well as to the decayed and falling leaf. 
 With so true a teacher, the artist has no excuse for failure. 
 Let him obey her laws, and he will ensure success to his 
 work. 
 
COMPOSITION. 14:5 
 
 452. The principles of coloring in relation to composition 
 may be considered under several heads, viz: Truth, Force, 
 Degradation or keeping, Harmony or union, Contrast, etc. 
 
 453. Truth of imitation requires that colors should be 
 combined and arranged according to the laws of nature. 
 (350.) 
 
 454. " The principles which regulate the combination and 
 arrangement of colors, are as invariable as the light which is 
 their source, and the shade by which they are absorbed. Their 
 economy is neither arbitrary nor fantastic. They emerge from, 
 and flow into each other in regular order. No confusion can 
 thwart or break their gradations, from blue to red, from red to 
 yellow. The flame of every light establishes this immutable 
 scale." By observing these laws, truth of coloring is secured ; 
 and on this foundation the artist may indulge his imagination 
 and idealize at pleasure. ( 36.) 
 
 455. If color is not idealized, it is mere paint and cannot 
 harmonize with the ideal character of an ideal picture. The 
 ideal in color, as well as in form, depends upon the mental con- 
 ception, or rather, the sentiment of beauty in the mind of the 
 artist. The manufacturer considers beauty of color with the 
 intention of pleasing the eye. The artist has also the same 
 object in a work that is addressed to the mind ; therefore he 
 must consider the sentiment, or feeling, he intends to excite, as 
 well as the organ which is his medium of communication. ( 44.) 
 
 456. Force of color depends, first, upon the force of light 
 and shade. The same rules that govern the arrangement of 
 light and shade, necessarily apply to the distribution, relief, and 
 reflection of colors. Great brilliancy and force of effect is given, 
 by making some parts of a picture as dark, and others as light 
 as possible ; and then harmonizing the two extremes by the in- 
 troduction of gradatory and demi-tints. Rubens excelled in 
 this style. He considered the distribution of the lights in such a 
 manner as to obtain the greatest life, force, and effect, as the 
 basis of all coloring. The same effect is given by the extremes 
 of warm and cold colors, that are harmonized by being dispersed 
 
 7 
 
146 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 over every part of a picture; till, at a distance, the whole 
 appears, with regard to color, like a bunch of flowers. The 
 splendor of this style eclipses all others. 
 
 457. " Every color, whether simple or compound, has its 
 proper chiaro-scuro, consisting of every possible degree of 
 depth and strength of hue, from the weakest tints to the 
 strongest ; and as the selection and its position are optional, the 
 artist has an opportunity to adjust the composition and the 
 light and shade, so as to assimilate the forms and also for vary- 
 ing them to any extent, either in the lights and shades, demi- 
 tints, or the reflexes, and still preserve the unity, and give a 
 harmonious effect to the whole. Each color, whether simple or 
 compound, is also susceptible of any degree of illumination or 
 obscurity, strength, or weakness. Harmony of color, in rela- 
 tion to the parts of a picture, depends upon the skillful disposi- 
 tion and gradation of color, in regard to the principal light, the 
 demi-tints, the shades and reflexes." 
 
 458. The principal figure must receive the principal color, 
 for the same reason that it receives the strongest light. Other 
 figures introduced receive it in due gradation. This effect is 
 accomplished by the judicious management of colors with 
 regard to sympathy and antipathy, warmth and coldness. 
 
 459. Harmonious coloring depends, first, upon the artist's 
 mixing his colors according to the principles of nature, as dis- 
 closed by the prism. Next, upon the order and arrangement 
 of colors, in which he must also be guided by the laws of 
 nature. 
 
 460. According to the natural order of colors, the light side 
 of a figure, or group, may receive yellow, orange, and red. 
 The Warm colors cannot be made to retire, because they reflect 
 so much light. They should never be laid upon the side that 
 recedes from the light, because they will come forward. The 
 warm colors naturally belong to the illuminated side of an 
 object. These pass to violet, which is the intermediate. The 
 cold colors, green, blue, and indigo, which, from their nature, 
 appear more distant to the eye than the warm colors, belong to 
 
COMPOSITION. 147 
 
 the retiring parts of a, composition. If there is occasion to 
 bring them forward, they must be modified to suit their position. 
 And if the warm are carried back, the same care is neces- 
 sary. ( 357.) 
 
 461. In nature, we find a perfect harmony of color with an 
 infinite variety of hues, tints and shades. In producing this 
 harmony, the atmosphere is the chief agent. The effect of a 
 warm or cold atmosphere upon colors has already been ex- 
 plained. ( 366.) In art, harmony of coloring requires a careful 
 observance of this law ; and, in every composition, a predo- 
 minance must be given to the tone-color, which may be either a 
 primary or secondary. 
 
 462. A variety of superfluous tints should be avoided. 
 Quietness and simplicity, that should generally characterize a 
 work, can only be effected by a breadth of simple and uniform 
 color. It is true that grandeur of effect may be produced by 
 two very opposite and different methods. One is, by reducing 
 the colors to a little more than chiaro-scuro ; and the other, by 
 making the colors very distinct and forcible. Still, the ruling 
 principle in both these methods, and the one to. which they owe 
 their success, is simplicity. The distinct blue and red, in the 
 draperies of the Roman and Florentine schools, though destitute 
 of the harmony produced by a variety of broken and transpa- 
 rent colors, yet possess the effect of grandeur required, and 
 strike the eye with more force than if they were harmonized by 
 a greater number of tints. 
 
 463. In nature, we find the same colors dispersed every- 
 where, however limited or extensive the view. Take, for 
 instance, a field of flowers. No mass of color is in a spot by 
 itself; but all are intermingled, which produces a balance of 
 color. If a color is introduced but once in a picture, it appears 
 like a spot on the canvas ; and again, in the repetition, it must 
 be slightly varied in form, tint, or hue ; as, for instance, a rose 
 in a bunch of flowers, may be balanced by a pink azalia, or one 
 purple flower, by another differing in form and hue. Perfect 
 harmony of coloring requires a careful observance of this law 
 
148 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 of nature in all compositions. If the subject requires a gay and 
 brilliant tone, the life and vivacity of contrast, the colors intro- 
 duced to secure that effect must be duly balanced by those that 
 are harmonious, else the eye will become sated. On this point, 
 no definite rule can be given. If there is too much contrast, 
 the picture will be spotty ; if too little, where decided colors are 
 introduced, it will be monotonous. In the arrangement of colors, 
 much is gained by varying the forms of objects. 
 
 464. Contrast is essential to the beauty of coloring, and we 
 have already considered its laws. ( 361.) In producing con- 
 trast, broad, glaring, unmodified colors must be carefully avoid- 
 ed. The colors of nature are brilliant, but never glaring. 
 There is, in her works, however brilliant they may be, some 
 modification, or combination, that renders them pleasing to the 
 eye. The eye is wearied by too much of one decided color, as 
 much as the ear by one prolonged sound in music. All warm 
 colors, particularly, require to be mellowed and softened till they 
 become a hue or tint of color. Observe how nature variegates, 
 or breaks up a broad space of color. Take, for instance, a large 
 leaf, or petal ; it is either spotted, or strongly marked with 
 veins, or so curled as to be greatly varied, by a play of light and 
 shade. In nature, we are pleased with brilliancy, because it is 
 an evidence of life, of vitality. In art, we look for a fictious 
 imitation of nature ; and, in the imitations of life, where life is 
 wanting, decided colors are a mockery; and the artist who 
 attempts to vie with nature, instead of imitating her, betrays his 
 vanity, and, at the same time, proves his impotence. 
 
 465. Thus far nature is a guide to the artist ; but in harmo- 
 nizing the colors in any composition, much depends upon the 
 taste and judgment. It is required as a rule that " light and 
 shade should be positive, and then harmonized by the grada- 
 tion of the demi-shades. In coloring, the same rule must be 
 observed, and the lights and shades harmonized by demi-tints 
 composed of colors that represent both, and the tint produced by 
 the intermingling of reflected colors. ( 359.) It must not be 
 forgotten that harmony depends no less upon a balance of light 
 
COMPOSITION. 149 
 
 and shade, than upon a balance of color ; and also upon a unity 
 of ^luide. The colors of several objects introduced may be so 
 rl;o>eu as to produce a harmonious and vigorous effect by their 
 strength and variety. This depends upon so arranging the 
 colors as to produce an agreeable contrast to their tones and 
 hues. Some objects require that the colors should be arranged 
 in large masses. In small masses, force of effect is wanting. 
 Opposition between two masses of color may be rendered less 
 striking and distinct, by means of a third or intermediate mass ; 
 which, if properly chosen, will serve to unite them and give 
 harmony to the whole. The sentiment or character of the work 
 may require the force of direct opposition, or the effect produ- 
 ced by the softest union and blending of colors. In either case, 
 the intermediate masses are indispensable to harmony." 
 
 466. "The Venetian painters made the principal masses of a 
 warm, mellow color ; either a yellow red, or a yellowish white ; 
 not allowing the blue, grey, or greenish tint used for shade to 
 appear in these masses, and using a very small portion only to 
 contrast or support the warm colors." This practice is essential 
 to harmony, and the rule for it is founded in a law of nature, 
 where the illuminated parts of objects are always of a warmer 
 tint than those in the shade ; and in following nature, the artist 
 never fails to please the eye. The prism shows us that in nature 
 the warm colors predominate ; and to preserve a perfectly har- 
 monious effect, first in the combination of colors, and next, in 
 their arrangement, this law must be kept constantly in mind. 
 In cold climates, where blue seems to predominate, the artist 
 will find that he cannot make a successful imitation of the colors 
 of nature, as found in those regions, without the use of red and 
 yellow in the natural proportion to the blue; but the yellow 
 used must be less brilliant, and the red of a cooler tone. 
 
 467. " The color which forms the principal mass must be dif- 
 fused through the different parts of a picture and again, where 
 many heads and hands are dispersed over the picture, a mass of 
 the same color is required. This is better introduced by a 
 figure partly nude ; or, if the subject will not allow of it, a 
 
150 STUDY OF AKT. 
 
 drapery approaching a flesh tint may be made a substitute, as 
 in the transfiguration for instance ; where a woman is clothed in 
 drapery of this color, which makes the principal mass to the 
 heads and hands of the picture." 
 
 468. Harmony also requires that all objects included in a 
 picture should appear to the eye at their true distance. The 
 effect of the atmosphere in nature is, to render the objects indis- 
 tinct in proportion to their distance from the eye of the specta- 
 tor. Those in his immediate vicinity are perfectly clear ; while 
 in the intermediate distance from the nearest object to the most 
 remote, there is a true gradation. To preserve the same effect 
 of gradation or distance, in every subject where space is rep- 
 resented, is essential to the harmonious effect of the whole. 
 ( 370.) 
 
 469. Opposite colors, those that neither harmonize nor con- 
 trast in their tones, as blue and red, are forcible in character 
 when combined in the same composition. " The distinct blue 
 and red in the draperies of the Eoman and Florentine painters, 
 though destitute of the harmony produced by a variety of bro- 
 ken and transparent colors, yet possess the effect of grandeur 
 required, and strike the eye with more force than if they had 
 been harmonized by a greater number of tints." 
 
 470. Nothing has so bad an effect as a picture crowded with 
 accessories that have no connection with the principal object, or 
 group. "When well chosen, and properly arranged, they help 
 to tell the story, and heighten the interest of the scene. Yet, 
 there is scarcely any pictorial subject that does not require the 
 expression and character obtained by the introduction of some 
 accessory. Let an artist picture a female figure expressive of 
 holy resignation : it serves as a representation of one class of 
 humanity. If he adds a wheel to his costume, it is marked at 
 once as St. Catharine. A tower introduced as an accessory 
 would have marked it as St. Barbara. A picture of the two 
 Marys at the tomb, seated and waiting, requires no accessories. 
 Anything added to the tomb and the two figures would only 
 
COMPOSITION. 151 
 
 serve to divert attention, and destroy the beauty and simplicity 
 of the subject.represented, and would weaken, rather than add 
 to the expression. 
 
 471. It is universally allowed that Raffaelle excelled all 
 other painters in a graceful arrangement of drapery, and a 
 natural disposition of the folds. By studying the principles of 
 the ancients, he learned to consider the figure as the principal 
 part, and that drapery should be regarded as an accessory. 
 That it is intended to cover, and not to conceal. That it is 
 employed not from caprice, but from necessity. Consequently, 
 the dress should not be so narrow as to constrain the members, 
 nor so ample as to conceal them, but suitably adapted to the 
 size and attitude of the figures represented. His ample drape- 
 ries had no useless folds, and were bent at the articulations. 
 The form of the figure indicated the form of the folds, and on 
 the great muscles he formed great masses. When any limb 
 was fore-shortened in the drawing, he covered it with the same 
 number of folds as if it were extended, but crowded them in 
 proportion to the fore-shortening. By the folds of his draperies, 
 it is easy to determine the attitude of the figure previous to the 
 one in which it appears. For example : whether the arm were 
 extended or reposing immediately before the action in which it 
 is represented. This was an expression he carefully studied on 
 all occasions. When the drapery was to cover the leg or the 
 arm but partially, he made it cut the member obliquely. His 
 folds were of a triangular form. The reason for this is found 
 in nature ; for all drapery, after being extended and then falling 
 again under the pressure of the atmosphere, is naturally formed 
 into triangles. His whole practice demonstrates the theory 
 that the movements of the figure cause the peculiar form and 
 position of the folds exhibited in the drapery that covers it. 
 
 472. In the painting of drapery, many artists consider it ne- 
 cessary to make afac simile of satin, velvet, etc.; but the great 
 ideal artists represented no particular fabric in their draperies, 
 because that would have destroyed the harmony of an ideal 
 
152 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 picture. If one part is ideal in representation, unity and har- 
 mony require that every part should be idealized, (k) 
 
 473. Nature never repeats herself, even in two sides of a 
 leaf. Such precision belongs to machine work ; and, in studying 
 nature, we learn that variety is no less necessary to a pleasing 
 composition, than unity. No limit can be defined as a rule ; and 
 the artist, in deciding his choice, must be guided by the charac- 
 ter of the subject. If it is light and gay, a much greater variety 
 of objects and of colors may be admitted than if it is grave and 
 majestic. By multiplying objects, a greater variety is obtained 
 in line, light and shade, and color, which contributes to gaiety. 
 A variety of objects is inconsistent with the simplicity, so essen- 
 tial to the grand style. In pictures of this character, variety 
 must be considered with reference to that undivided attention 
 which a great subject demands. 
 
 474. In relation to art, true simplicity is the opposite of 
 exuberance or pretension, and requires that the effect intended 
 shall be produced by means neither numerous nor complicated. 
 Simplicity should prevade all parts of a work, from the general 
 plan to the execution of the details. The best works of art, 
 those that are the most pleasing, the most enduring, and produce 
 the most forcible impression, are always characterized by sim- 
 plicity. 
 
 475. Proportion is requisite in everything intended to please 
 the eye. The most cultivated taste, and the most practiced eye 
 can best judge of proportion. In works of art, it refers, first, to 
 size ; next, to the degree of light and shade ; and again, to the 
 force of expression required in the character or scene repre- 
 sented. Any work is in good proportion, if its details are nei- 
 ther too large, nor too small, when viewed in relation to the 
 whole, or to each other. 
 
 476. To the grace and beauty of the whole work, harmony is 
 
COMPOSITION. 153 
 
 indispensable. Without harmony, each part may fail of the 
 effect intended, however true in design. There must be har- 
 mony of line, harmony of grouping, harmony of light and shade, 
 harmony of coloring, harmony of expression. Each part must 
 be so adapted as to correspond to the rest. The attitude must be 
 in keeping with the expression; the color, with the subject 
 treated ; and the accessories must be true, both to the character 
 and the age represented. A harmonious whole is always more 
 or less pleasing in itself, independent of subject or style. 
 
 477. Lastly, breadth is essential to harmony. According to 
 Allston, " by breadth is meant such a massing of the quantities, 
 whether by color, light or shadow, as shall enable the eye to 
 pass without obstruction, and by easy transitions from one part 
 to another, so that it shall appear to take in the whole at a 
 glance." To this, unity is essential. Unity is distinct from 
 harmony, and requires one point of view, one focus of light, 
 one tone of color, one prominent character, or group, one lead- 
 ing idea. There may be unity of parts when harmony in the 
 whole is entirely wanting. When the objects introduced in a 
 composition are multiplied, scattered and divided, the eye, in 
 searching for the principal object of interest, becomes wearied 
 and perplexed, and the picture is then said to want repose. 
 
 478. The importance of carefully regarding this law of unity 
 of the mind cannot be denied. The painter is too apt to depend 
 upon the effect of color, forgetting that the eye may be delighted 
 with a brilliant display when no impression is made upon the 
 mind. In the same manner, the ear is pleased with sound, as 
 in children and savages, when the senses are gratified, not the 
 sentiments to which the artist appeals with the intention of con- 
 tributing to the pleasures of taste. 
 
 479. In learning the rules for composition, as in all other 
 departments of art, the artist must study nature to find his fun- 
 damental principle. And in doing so, he will learn, that in ac- 
 cordance to this law of unity of the mind, but one feeling or 
 sentiment is directly and decidedly addressed by any one pro- 
 
154 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 duction of nature. Flowers having the strongest perfume, like 
 the orange, jasmine, and lilac, are either white, or most deli- 
 cately tinted. In the charms displayed by the gorgeous lilies 
 and tulips, the eye alone is gratified. Brilliant birds are never 
 great singers. People who are regularly beautiful are not 
 gifted with strong mental capacity ; for according to the laws 
 of harmony, strength of character is too decidedly marked in 
 the physical development, to admit of the delicacy that is essen- 
 tial to regular beauty. We find every degree of strength and 
 beauty, every variety of element, and every possible variety 
 of combination in the human form and character ; and, accord- 
 ing to the law of harmony that pervades life, we also find, that 
 the intermediate combination, that serves to unite and har- 
 monize the two extremes, partaking alike of the character of 
 both, is never wanting. 
 
 480. This production, combining as it does in modified form, 
 the characteristics of the class it represents, is the most uni- 
 versally pleasing. Its character and beauty are appreciated 
 and admired by the highest order of minds, while neither is 
 lost upon the less gifted. In flowers, we have an example of it 
 in the rose. In birds, the canary. In colors, the violet. In 
 man, it is the medium between beauty and deformity, strength 
 and weakness. Let the artist ignore this law of unity, physical 
 and mental, and imitate some tragic or pathetic scene in brilliant 
 colors, intending in that way to make a stronger impression, 
 and he will gratify those only who are pleased with bright colors : 
 those who regard pictures as articles of ornament and not as a 
 medium for giving expression to some of the highest concep- 
 tions of which the human mind is capable, (f) 
 
 481. The old masters, in their use of colors, were evidently 
 guided by this principle of unity. We talk of their coloring as 
 of so many dyes; when, on examining their works, we find 
 that they did not use decided colors. They employed tints and 
 hues only ; and where every thing introduced in a subject was 
 made subordinate to expression, as in scenes of martyrdom, the 
 colors used are perfectly neutral in tone. If, in any subject, 
 
COMPOSITION. 155 
 
 predominance was given to color, great care was taken not to 
 overpower the eye by too much of it. The tone-color was 
 cli-ur and decided, but sparingly introduced, and all others com- 
 bim-d with it, were subdued according to the laws of harmony 
 and unity. ( 44, 45.) 
 
 482. Fuseli says, "By the choice and scenery of back- 
 grounds, we are frequently enabled to judge how far a painter 
 entered into his subject ; whether he understood its nature ; to 
 what class it belonged ; what impression it was capable of 
 making ; what passion it was calculated to rouse. The sedate, 
 the solemn, the severe, the awful, the terrible, the pleasing, the 
 solitary, the gay, are stamped by it. Sometimes it should be 
 negative entirely subordinate, receding or shrinking into itself. 
 Sometimes its forms, sometimes its colors, ought to command. 
 A subject in itself, bordering on the usual or common, may be- 
 come sublime or pathetic by the back-ground alone, and a sub- 
 lime or pathetic one, may become trivial and uninteresting by 
 it." The student will readily perceive, that no definite rules 
 can be given to guide him in this department. In some sub- 
 jects, it is required that the principal figure should be distinctly 
 seen, and again that it should be partially lost in the back- 
 ground. Success depends as much upon an eye for effect, as 
 upon artistic skill, (m) 
 
 483. " By a story told of Rubens, we have authority for 
 asserting, that to the effect of the picture, the back-ground is 
 of the greatest consequence. He was once offered a pupil, 
 with the recommendation of being already so advanced in the 
 art, that he could immediately assist him in the back-grounds." 
 Rubens smiled, and replied, " That if the youth was capable of 
 painting back-grounds, he did not need his instruction ; that the 
 regulation and management of them required the most com- 
 prehensive knowledge of the art." ( 331.) 
 
 484. Costume is an Italian term, signifying, in its extended 
 sense, the time, the manners, the customs, the taste, the dress, 
 
156 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the arms, as well as the character of a country and its peo- 
 ple. 
 
 485. It will be readily seen, that the study of costume is of 
 great importance to the artist, yet he must be careful not to go 
 too much into detail in regard to time, place, etc. The pro- 
 vince of art allows him a certain latitude, of which he must 
 avail himself, if he would make a pleasing picture ; on the other 
 hand, he must be careful not to err in taking too much be- 
 tween the two extremes he will be guided by his taste and 
 judgment, rejecting what is unnecessary to truth, and admitting 
 all appropriate beauties and characteristics. There is, perhaps, 
 no department of art, where taste and propriety are so requisite, 
 yet many instances occur among works of the great masters, 
 where they apparently attached no importance to the costume 
 of a picture. These the student must not take as a guide. 
 For instance, a picture of Eve, having her hair tied with blue 
 ribbons ; or the Israelites, represented with muskets, as in 
 Tintoret's picture of the Falling of Manna. 
 
 486. In many works of art, saints are introduced in the same 
 scenes representing the Madonna and Savior. This is approved 
 on the ground that all characters who have become, as it were, 
 immortal by great personal distinction, belong as much to one 
 age as another. 
 
 487. In studying the costume of a picture, we learn to what 
 the artist attached most importance : whether it was the fashion 
 of the day, the deceptive imitation of some manufactured fabric, 
 included as an accessory, or the scene represented with regard 
 to its peculiar interest, and the expression of character elicited 
 in the event that he depicts on the canvas. The costume should 
 be true to the subject, but never made so prominent as to divide 
 the interest of the spectators between the hero of the story and 
 the accessories included. Let this be done, and the unity of 
 the composition is entirely destroyed. 
 
 488. In selecting his subject, the artist must carefully consider 
 whether it is suited to the language of his art. Whether it is 
 
COMPOSITION. 157 
 
 picturesque. The painter finds that by imitating those works 
 of nature, that are the most remote from the formality and fresh- 
 ness of works of art, he produces the happiest effect makes the 
 most pleasing pictures. Therefore he imitates them. Hence 
 the term picturesque. The picturesque is so varied in charac- 
 ter as to be easily adapted to any subject. In some pictures it 
 is the most prominent characteristic. In others a more subor- 
 dinate feature. 
 
 489. Picturesque figures are those that are the most free 
 from the restraints of habit and dress that belong to artificial 
 life. The crippled beggar with his tattered hat ; the ragged 
 urchin filling his pitcher at the rippling brook ; the gipsy girl 
 with her gipsy costume, etc. 
 
 490. To buildings, the picturesque is added by the hand of 
 Time. The thatched cottage with its ragged corners and fall- 
 ing chimney; the moss-grown wall; the broken bridge; the 
 old mill-wheel ; the ivied turret, etc. Time makes every thing 
 picturesque. An old man with his gray locks and flowing 
 beard is beautifully picturesque ; particularly, if his dress is 
 marked by the same unsparing hand. 
 
 491. If the subject chosen is not marked by this essential 
 element, it must be supplied by the artist's ideal, which admits 
 of no direction. Any attempt to explain the ideal, would char- 
 acterize it as idealism. As " spiritual things must be spiritually 
 discerned," so ideal things must be ideally discerned. The 
 ideal is as distinct from ideaHsw, as the spiritual from spiritual- 
 asm ; or the sentiments from sentimentaU'sw. 
 
 492. For excellence in every department of art, no artist excels 
 Raffaelle, and no artist is so often referred to by authors for the 
 purpose of illustrating the principles of invention and com- 
 position. 
 
 493. Fuseli says, "The power of Raffaelle's invention exerts it- 
 self chiefly in subjects where the drama, divested of epic or alle- 
 goric fiction, meets pure history, and elevates, invigorates, im- 
 presses the pregnant moment of real fact with character and pa* 
 
158 STUDY OF AKT. 
 
 thos. The summit of these is that magnificent series of colored 
 designs, commonly called Cartoons. They represent in thirteen 
 compositions, the origin, sanction, economy, and progress of the 
 Christian religion. In whate\ 7 er light we consider their invention, 
 as parts of one whole relative to each other, or independent each 
 of the rest, and as single subjects, there can be scarcely named 
 a beauty or a mystery of which the Cartoons furnish not an in- 
 stance or a clew ; they are poised between perspicuity and 
 pregnancy of moment ; we shall have opportunities to speak of 
 all, or the greater part of them, but that of Paul on the Areo- 
 pagus will furnish us at present with conclusions for the remain- 
 der. 
 
 494. " It represents the Apostle announcing his God from the 
 heights of the Areopagus. Enthusiasm and curiosity make up the 
 subject ; simplicity of attitude invests the speaker with sublim- 
 ity ; the parallelism of his action invigorates his energy ; situa- 
 tion gives him command over the whole ; the light in which he 
 is placed, attracts the first glance ; he appears the organ of a 
 superior Power. The assembly, though selected with charac- 
 teristic art for the purpose, are the natural offspring of place 
 and moment. The involved meditation of the stoic, the cynic's 
 ironic sneer, the incredulous smile of the elegant epicurean, the 
 eager disputants of the academy, the elevated attention of 
 Plato's school, the rankling malice of the rabbi, the magician's 
 mysterious glance, repeat in louder or in lower tones the novel 
 doctrine ; but whilst curiosity and meditation, loud debate and 
 fixed prejudice, tell, ponder on, repeat, reject, discuss it, the 
 animated gesture of conviction in Dionysius and Damaris, 
 announce the power of its tenets, and hint the established belief 
 of immortality" 
 
 495. Haydon, in speaking of the Cartoon, of giving the keys, 
 says, " At Peter's earnest inquiry, whether he was beloved by 
 his master, the reply he received was, ' Feed my sheep.' 
 
 496. " At this simple command, such as seen in this Cartoon, 
 were the expressions, the characters, the actions, the grace, the 
 
COMPOSITION. 159 
 
 composition, the beauty, the sentiments and scenery, which in- 
 stantly filled the imagination of Raffaelle. 
 
 497. " In the hands of an ordinary painter, what could have 
 been done with ' Feed my sheep.' But it is the inherent power 
 of conceiving from such simple suggestions, and what from the 
 circumstances of the case must have happened, which ever 
 marks the great capacity from the ordinary academic graduate 
 of the grand style. 
 
 498. " Painters had ever better thus choose subjects from a 
 suggesting line, than merely fill up the characters the poets have 
 previously pictured for them. Poets should only be called in as 
 assistants. 
 
 499. " Painters degrade their art if they do nothing but 
 realize the conceptions of the poet ; they should shew, by every 
 subject they paint, that nature has given them the same power 
 of imagination, the same fertility of thought, the same capability 
 of exciting sympathy by the characters and expressions they 
 display, with this advantage, that the language of the painter 
 needs no translation to be comprehended by other nations. 
 
 500. " Painters, if they borrow from poetry or history, should 
 ever take a suggesting line, and by adding, inventing, and 
 adapting from nature, prove the right their art has to be con- 
 sidered one of the legitimate, if not the elder sister of poetry. 
 Could any man have believed that, without the graces of women, 
 any subject could have been made so interesting and delightful 
 as Raffaelle has made this ? Few but RafFaelle have ever done 
 it, none but great geniuses could ever do it, for by none but 
 by such can it ever be done. 
 
 501. " What it wants in variety of character, as to sex and 
 age, he has supplied by exhibiting the various ways in which 
 different temperaments are affected by the same thing. What in 
 picturesque beauty of dress, by infinite variations of the same 
 dress affected by variety of action, which is the result of differ- 
 ent sensation acting on the figure ; and by harmony of color 
 and by arrangement, he has made it very little less full of 
 attraction than any other of the Cartoons. 
 
160 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 502. " Christ is the first figure which attracts, standing in an 
 unaffected and simple manner, not resting on one leg and throw- 
 ing the whole behind, like the eternal action of the run of 
 antique figures, but as all men generally stand when they are 
 not standing to be seen, and only as their convenience or ease 
 induces them. His expression has a mixture of melancholy 
 and pathos, beautifully touching ; it is the finest head of Christ 
 in all the Cartoons. 
 
 503. " He is pointing to a flock of sheep, indicative of the 
 text, and to the keys in Peter's hand, as connecting him with 
 the Catholic church ; St. Peter being the head of it. 
 
 504. " St. Peter is on his knees, watching with eagerness the 
 looks of his Divine Master, and listening with an inquiring sub- 
 mission to the utterance of his will. 
 
 505. " St. John presses forward full of anxiety and affection, 
 his hands up, as if in adoration ; his nose, eye, and mouth, 
 motion, action, and expression, denoting regard, as lovely and 
 as delicate as the soul of the divine painter who conceived and 
 painted him. 
 
 506. " Though Kaffaelle's St. Johns are built on the St. John 
 of all the great painters, from Cimabue downwards, yet Raf- 
 faelle added a beauty they all missed, and which would have 
 rendered all representations of him incomplete without this 
 addition. He seems to say : ' Do not think I have less love of 
 thee than another ; believe me as intensely devoted, O, divine 
 master! as the apostle to whom thou hast committed this 
 charge/ 
 
 507. " Another apostle, by his side, seems to lift his hands in 
 rather envious astonishment ; the one behind is rather pressing 
 forward towards Christ with affection ; the next turns round to 
 his companions with simple wonder and inquiry, and, without 
 speaking, looks with a scrutinizing rigor, first to ascertain what 
 the other thinks by his air, before he ventures an opinion ; 
 while the other, with graceful simplicity, is holding his robe, 
 and expressing also surprise, but mingled with pleasure. 
 
 508. " The one immediately behind this last is too far off to 
 
COMPOSITION. 161 
 
 comprehend or hear exactly what is passing, and, with his head 
 half dropped, he seems in a breathless mixture of half-eye and 
 half-ear, to make out, as well as he can, what is happening in 
 front : he is so placed that he could see Jesus between the head 
 of the others, but is scarcely near enough to hear him. 
 
 509. "Of the remaining three, the hair only of one is seen ; 
 and the faces of the two others denote no particular emotion. 
 This skillfully exhibits the interest dying away, as it were, the 
 further it is removed from the cause of excitement. 
 
 510. " By studying carefully the figure of Christ, as a compo- 
 sition, immense knowledge may be gained to all. It is a fine 
 example of management, so as to present a single figure coming 
 flatly and meagrely on its background. 
 
 511. " On the left side, see how rich and full it is by the 
 great variety of shapes produced by the folds of the drapery ; 
 then comes part of a sheep feeding ; and then some weeds, while 
 a creek, running in from the lake, crosses the left hand at the 
 thumb-joint ; and again, the other line of this creek goes from 
 the inside of the elbow to the drapery ; all these produce a 
 variety of quantities as to shape and figure, and break the 
 meagre line of a naked arm, and take off the perpendicular and 
 angular endings of contours, which the drapery of Christ, on 
 this side, would produce. On the other side, the right hand 
 issues from a mass of broad drapery ; and the flock of sheep, 
 by their heads and bodies, break the uniformity of shape, which 
 there would be, if it had nothing but a flat surface. 
 
 512. " This is what is called supporting a figure, preventing 
 it rising abruptly out of the background, which would be the 
 case if there were nothing behind but a flat surface, and nothing 
 between the figure and distant objects. It can be done by light 
 and shadow, or by line ; it was this which Sir Joshua so admi- 
 rably understood, because he studied the great works of Raf- 
 faelle, and took up portrait, as Burke said, as if he had descend- 
 ed from a higher department. 
 
 513. * * * " Raffaelle's great basis was that the eye must be 
 carried from one part to another, from one quantity to another ; 
 
162 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 then there must be vacuities to give value to the projecting 
 masses ; and then no mass must be of the same size, but one 
 must predominate, as well as one light, one shadow, one figure, 
 one color, and one line. To accomplish the effect required, he 
 made great use of drapery. * * *. 
 
 514. "Raffaelle's great excellence being expression, and the 
 head, whereon expression lies, being little as to mass, he could 
 always put heads into any part, and supply their deficiency as 
 to mass by quantities of other materials about or beneath them ; 
 therefore, he was never obliged to sacrifice that in which his 
 chief excellence lay, for the sake of composition ; while those 
 who rest their reputation in beauty of figure, will often find 
 themselves condemned to cover, for the sake of harmony of 
 effect, many a beautiful body, and many a beautiful limb indi- 
 vidually considered, but which are often not of size enough in 
 the masses to be kept ; and thus they are obliged to sacrifice 
 what they were, perhaps, most qualified to represent. 
 
 515. "The same bit of road which crosses behind Christ's 
 right shoulder passes out behind his left, and cuts, at gentle 
 angles, the hand of the astonished Apostle next St. John. On 
 that road there are two small figures, the want of which would 
 be felt, as they connect this hand and the shoulder of Christ, 
 and prevent there being too great a distance between them, 
 which is always painful. 
 
 516. Every hand, and head, and line, throughout this Car- 
 toon, is placed on this principle. Lines and inclinations of 
 figures must be repeated like color, especially the predomi- 
 nating line or color of the principal figure : thus St. Peter and 
 St. John leaning forward, by their inclination, as lines, repeat 
 that of Christ's drapery, etc. ; then the bit of a creek, which 
 so beautifully by its bank crosses and connects the line of the 
 left hand of Christ to the face of St. Peter, comes out again at 
 the back of the last figure of all ; and then a bit of drapery 
 cutting the even line of the last back, prevents the back coming 
 perpendicularly against the boat, which carries the composition 
 
COMPOSITION. 163 
 
 right out of the picture. The boat, too, shows that they have 
 just been fishing, and have just landed. 
 
 517. "Every bit of weed, line of ground, town, house, tree, 
 or drapery is introduced for these purposes ; and yet so con- 
 trived as to have the appearance of being the natural conse- 
 quences of natural causes, independently of all art or manage- 
 ment."* (n) 
 
 518. Allston draws a comparison between Raffaelle and Os 
 tade : " The interior of a Dutch cottage forms the scene of 
 Ostade's work, presenting something between a kitchen and a 
 stable. Its principal object is the carcass of a hog, newly washed 
 and hung up to dry ; subordinate to which, is a woman nursing 
 an infant; the accessories, various pots, kettles, and other 
 culinary utensils. 
 
 519. " The bare enumeration of these coarse materials would 
 naturally predispose the mind of one unacquainted with the 
 Dutch school to expect anything but pleasure ; indifference, not to 
 say disgust, would seem to be the only impression from a picture 
 composed of such ingredients. And such, indeed, would be their 
 effect under the hand of any but a real artist. Let us look into 
 the picture and follow Ostade's mind, as it leaves its impress 
 on the several objects. Observe how he spreads his principal 
 light, from the suspended carcass to the surrounding objects, 
 moulding it, so to speak, into agreeable shapes ; here by extend- 
 ing it to a bit of drapery, there to an earthen-pot ; then con- 
 necting it, by the flash from a brass kettle, with his second light, 
 the woman and child ; and again, turning the eye into the dark 
 recesses, thro ugh the labyrinth of broken chairs, old baskets, roost- 
 ing fowls, and bits of straw, till a glimpse of sunshine from a 
 half-open window gleams on the eye, as it were, like an echo, 
 and sending it back to the principal object, which now seems 
 to act on the mind as the luminous source of all these diverg- 
 ing lights. But the magical whole is not yet completed ; the 
 mystery of color has been called in to the aid of light, and so 
 
 * B. R. Haydon's Lectures. 
 
164: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 subtly blends that we can hardly separate them ; at least until 
 their united effect has first been felt, and after we have begun 
 the process of cold analysis. Yet, even then, we cannot long 
 proceed, before we find the charm returning ; as we pass from 
 the blaze of light on the carcass, where all the tints of the prism 
 seem faintly subdued, we are met on the borders by the dark 
 hurslet, glowing like rubies ; then we repose a while on the 
 white cap and kerchief of the nursing mother; then we are 
 roused again by the flickering strife of the antagonist colors on 
 a blue jacket and red petticoat ; then the strife is softened by 
 the low yellow of a straw-bottomed chair ; and thus with alter- 
 nating excitement and repose do we travel through the picture, 
 till the scientific explorer loses the analyst in the unresisting 
 passiveness of a poetic dream. Now all this will, no doubt, 
 appear to many, if not absurd, at least exaggerated ; but not to 
 those who have ever felt the sorcery of color. They, we are 
 sure, will be the last to question the character of the feeling 
 because of the ingredients which worked the spell, and if true 
 to themselves they must call it poetry. Nor will they consider 
 it any disparagement to the all-accomplished Raffaelle to say 
 of Ostade, that he also was an artist. 
 
 520. " We turn now to a work of the great Italian the death 
 of Ananias. The scene is laid in a plain apartment, which is 
 wholly devoid of ornament, as became the hall of audience of 
 the primitive Christians. The Apostles (then eleven in num- 
 ber), have assembled to transact the temporal business of the 
 church, and are standing together on a slightly elevated plat- 
 form, about which, in various attitudes, some standing, others 
 kneeling, is gathered a promiscuous assemblage of their new 
 converts, male and female. This quiet assembly (for we still 
 feel its quietness in the midst of the awful judgment) is sud- 
 denly roused by the sudden fall of one of their brethren : some 
 of them turn to see him struggling in the agonies of death. A 
 moment before he was in the vigor of life, as his muscular 
 limbs still bear evidence ; but he had uttered a falsehood, and 
 an instant after his frame is convulsed from head to foot. Nor 
 
COMPOSITION. 165 
 
 do we doubt for a moment as to the awful cause : it is almost 
 expressed in voice by those nearest to him, and though varied 
 by their different temperaments, by terror, astonishment, and 
 submissive faith, this voice has yet but one meaning : " Ananias 
 has lied to the Holy Ghost." The terrible words, as if audible 
 to the mind, now direct us to him who pronounced his doom, 
 and the singly raised finger of the Apostle marks him the judge ; 
 yet not of himself for neither his attitude, air, nor expression, 
 has anything in unison with the impetuous Peter he is now 
 the simple, passive, yet awful instrument of the Almighty; 
 while another on the right, with equal calmness, though with 
 more severity, by his elevated arm, as belonging to judgment, 
 anticipates the fate of the entering Saphira. Yet all is not 
 done : lest a question remain, the Apostle on the left confirms 
 the judgment. No one can mistake what passes within him ; 
 like one transfixed in adoration, his uplifted eyes seem to ray 
 out his soul, as if in recognition of the divine tribunal. But 
 the overpowering thought of omnipotence is now tempered by 
 the human sympathy of his companion, whose open hands, 
 connecting the past with the present, seem almost to articulate, 
 " Alas, my brother ! " By this exquisite turn we are next 
 brought to John, the gentle almoner of the church, who is 
 dealing out their portions to the needy brethren. And here, as 
 most remote from the judged Ananias, whose sufferings seem 
 not yet to have reached it, we find a spot of repose not to pass 
 by, but to linger upon, till we feel its quiet influence diffusing 
 itself over the whole mind ; nay, till connecting it with the be- 
 loved disciple, we find it leading us back through the exciting 
 scene, modifying even our deepest emotions with a kindred 
 tranquillity. 
 
 521. "This is invention : we have not moved a step through 
 the picture but at the will of the artist. He invented the chain 
 which we have followed link by link, through every emotion, 
 assimilating many into one ; and this is the secret by which he 
 prepared us, without exciting horror, to contemplate the strug- 
 gle of mortal agony. 
 
166 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 522. " This, too, is art ; and the highest art, when thus the 
 awful power, without losing its character, is tempered, as it 
 were, to our mysterious desires. In the work of Ostade we 
 see the same inventive power, no less effective, though acting 
 through the medium of the humblest materials. 
 
 523. "We have now exhibited two pictures, and by two 
 painters who may be said to stand at opposite poles. And yet, 
 widely apart as are their apparent stations, they are, neverthe- 
 less, tenants of the same ground namely, actual nature ; the 
 only difference being, that one is the sovereign of the purely 
 physical, and the other of the moral and intellectual, while their 
 common medium is the catholic ground of the imagination. 
 
 524. " We do not fear either skeptical demur or direct con- 
 tradiction when we assert that the imagination is as much the 
 medium of the homely Ostade, as of the refined Raffaelle. For, 
 what is that which has just wrapped us as in a spell when we 
 entered his humble cottage which, as we wandered through it, 
 invested the coarsest object with a strange charm ? Was it 
 the truth of these objects that we there acknowledged ? In 
 part, certainly ; but not simply the truth that belongs to their 
 originals : it was the truth of "his own individual mind super- 
 added to that of nature, nay, clothed upon besides by his ima- 
 gination, imbuing it with all the poetic hues which float in the 
 opposite regions of night and day, and which only a poet can 
 mingle and make visible in one pervading atmosphere. To all 
 this our own minds, our own imaginations respond, and we 
 pronounce it true to both. We have no other rule, and well 
 may the artist of every age and country thank the great Law- 
 giver that there is no other. The despised feeling which the 
 schools have scouted, is yet the mother of that science of which 
 they vainly boast." 
 
 525. Raffaelle's Dresden Madonna is much more familiar to 
 the public from the numerous prints of it, that are scattered 
 everywhere. Of this Mrs. Jameson writes " On entering the 
 gallery for the first time, I walked straight forward, without 
 pausing or turning to the right or the left, into the Raffaelle room, 
 
COMPOSITION. 167 
 
 and looked for the Madonna del Sisto literally with a kind of 
 misgiving. Familiar as the form might be to the eye and the 
 fancy, from the numerous copies and prints, still, the unknown 
 original had a sanctuary in my imagination like the mystic Isis 
 behind her veil : and it seemed that whatever I beheld of lovely, 
 or perfect, or soul-speaking, in art, had an unrevealed rival in 
 my imagination : something was beyond there was a criterion 
 of possible excellence as yet only conjectured for I had not 
 seen the Madonna del Sisto. Now when I was about to lift my 
 eyes to it, I literally hesitated. I drew a long sigh, as if resign- 
 ing myself to disappointment, and looked. Yes ! there she was, 
 indeed ! that divinest image that ever shaped itself in palpable 
 hues and forms to the living eye ! What a revelation of ineffa- 
 ble grace and purity, and truth, and goodness ! There is no use 
 attempting to say anything about it. Too much has already 
 been said and written and what are words ? After gazing on 
 it again and again, day after day, I feel that to attempt to 
 describe the impression is like measuring the infinite, and sound- 
 ing the unfathomable. When I looked up at it to-day, it gave 
 me the idea, or rather the feeling of a vision descending and 
 floating down upon me. The head of the virgin is quite 
 super-human ; to say that it is beautiful gives no idea of it. 
 Some of Corregio's and Guide's virgins the virgin of Murillo, 
 at the Leuchtenberg palace, have more beauty, in the common 
 meaning of the word ; but every other female face, however 
 lovely, however majestic, would, I am convinced, appear either 
 trite or exaggerated, if brought into immediate comparison with 
 this divine countenance. There is such a blessed calm in every 
 feature ! and the eyes, beaming with a kind of internal light, 
 look straight out of the picture not at you or me, nor anything 
 belonging to this world, but through and through the universe. 
 The unearthly child is a sublime vision of power and grandeur, 
 and seems not so much supported as enthroned in her arms ; 
 and what fitter throne for a divinity than a woman's bosom full 
 of innocence and love ? The expression in the face of St. Bar- 
 bara, who looks down, has been differently interpreted : to me 
 
168 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 she seems to be giving a last look at the earth, above which a 
 group is raised as on a hovering cloud. St. Sixtus is evidently 
 pleading, in all the combined fervor of faith, hope, and charity, 
 for the congregation of sinners, who are supposed to be kneel- 
 ing before the picture that is, for us, to whom he points. 
 Finally, the cherubs below, with their upward look of rapture 
 and wonder, blending the most childish innocence with a sub- 
 lime inspiration, complete the harmonious whole, uniting heaven 
 with earth." 
 
 526. This favorite picture, even in the indifferent prints of 
 it, is a fine subject for study. The harmony of line combined 
 in every part is one of its most attractive features, and would 
 charm the eye, if nothing more meritorious were superadded. 
 The conception is ideal the treatment is ideal in the devel- 
 opment of the subject the rules of art are carefully observed, 
 and nothing could exceed the exquisite harmony and unity of 
 the composition. 
 
 527. Let the student analyze this picture as a composition, 
 with reference to his own improvement, in regard to the use of 
 line, light, and shade, etc. He cannot mistake the principal 
 figures, the mother and child Jesus, made most conspicuous by 
 contrasting the purest earthly purity with the purer heaven 
 beyond. The dark line on the lower margin of the picture rep- 
 resents the world, above which they soar towards heaven, whose 
 curtains are withdrawn to receive them, at the same time 
 revealing to our view the angels that are to give them welcome. 
 They are already detached from the world, and above it. By 
 the clouds that partly envelope the two other figures included 
 in the same scene, is expressed the difference in their positions ; 
 they, being still somewhat entangled with it. In the attitude 
 of the little figures that complete the group, we see that they 
 are stationary, and can be none other than guardian angels. 
 The tower seen over the shoulder of the second female figure, 
 marks her for St. Barbara. The triple crown is an accessory, 
 and placed where it is, expresses the Pope's supremacy, whose 
 dominion is guarded by the angels of God. 
 
COMPOSITION. 169 
 
 528. The young artist will gain much by studying the best 
 pictures of the best masters. In doing this, he must not forget 
 that rules always admit of variations and exceptions; principles, 
 never. It is only those who understand both rules and prin- 
 ciples who can venture successfully on the variations. In one 
 of Raffaelle's Holy Families, Mary and Jesus receive the prin- 
 cipal light, Elizabeth and John the next, Joseph the next, and 
 then the attending angels. 
 
 529. Corregio's Notte is a fine example of super-natural light. 
 The light in the picture emanates from the child, according to 
 the words of Christ : " I am come a light into the world." The 
 effect given by the artist expresses the sensation produced upon 
 the shepherds, who have come to see the fulfilment of the decla- 
 ration made to them by the angel, as they watched their flocks 
 by night : " Fear not ; for behold, I bring you good tidings of 
 great joy, which shall be to all people ; for unto you is born, 
 this day, in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the 
 Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. Ye shall find the 
 babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger. * * * 
 And they came with haste, and found the babe lying in a 
 manger." Choosing his point of time in the night, or, rather, 
 just at the dawn of day, as expressed in the distance, gave the 
 artist an opportunity for giving an original and powerful effect 
 in the treatment of his subject. 
 
 530. We have now considered the studies essential to an 
 artist, and the laws that regulated the practice of those painters 
 called masters, and founders of schools. And we find that 
 every rule of art has its foundation in some law of nature, 
 either physical or mental. This knowledge gives a deeper 
 meaning and interest to those great works of art, which, to one 
 ignorant of the rules that govern its practice, appear to have 
 been accomplished without any study of arrangement ; and it 
 also proves the theory upon which we started ; viz. : that truth 
 to nature is the fundamental principle of imitative art. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CLASSIFICATION OF PICTURES. 
 
 531. PICTURES are divided into several classes ; such as 
 History, Portrait, Landscape, Animals, Game-Pieces, Still-Life, 
 Fruit and Flower-Pieces. These again are subdivided accord- 
 ing to the character or style of subject. 
 
 532. The first class, historical pictures, comprehends repre- 
 sentations of scenes, real or fabulous, sacred or profane, of 
 which accounts have been made public. If the subjects are 
 taken from the scriptures, or the legendary lives of saints, they 
 are termed sacred. If from modern or classical history, or 
 from the fables of ancient mythology, they are termed profane. 
 The rules, for historical painting, include all that belongs to art 
 proper, and should govern the practice of art in all its various 
 classes. 
 
 533. Portrait painting ranks next to historical in works of 
 art. In the historical pictures of the fifteenth century, portraits 
 of the prominent men of the time were introduced. The 
 greatest designers and composers were employed in portrait 
 painting. 
 
 534. Landscape is one of the most beautiful departments of 
 art. No one admits of greater variety in the subject, or greater 
 variety in the treatment. 
 
 535. The class of paintings designated as familiar life, is 
 neither history, portrait, nor landscape, and includes a great 
 variety of subjects, comprising all taken from common life, 
 whether real or fictions. It is the popular, every day side of 
 art, contrasted with sacred and profane history, or poetical and 
 devotional subjects. 
 
CLASSIFICATION OF PICTURES. 171 
 
 536. Still-life pictures comprise all inanimate objects ; such 
 as household furniture, musical instruments, and the like, in 
 endless variety. This forms the most inferior class, and seldom 
 engages the attention of eminent artists. 
 
 537. Living animals are seldom well represented. It is a 
 much more difficult art than is generally supposed, and but few 
 have excelled in it. This class includes hunting-pieces. 
 
 538. Culinary-pieces are those which represent all varieties 
 of provision, dead-game, fish, etc. This branch is inferior to 
 the former, and is seldom practiced with effect. 
 
 539. Fruit and flower-pieces, form another class, and an 
 agreeable branch of painting. To this class, birds and insects 
 naturally belong, and add a pleasing variety. 
 
 540. Sea-views form a class of pictures in which few excel. 
 They are generally made cold in color, and want the effect of fore- 
 ground. By the addition of fore-ground, a pleasing variety is 
 obtained : an essential requisite in all good compositions. Not 
 only a variety in objects, but a variety in color. The water, on 
 a western shore, takes the reflection of the rising sun, and, on 
 the eastern shore, that of the setting sun, in every variety of 
 tint and hue, giving a warm and beautiful effect to the waves, 
 and affording a fine variety of tints for the colorist. Like 
 landscapes, sea-views require the introduction of figures to give 
 them interest. In color, the clouds should harmonize with the 
 tone of the picture. They vary in hue with the varying 
 seasons. 
 
 541. Moonlight is seldom attempted. None but a poetic 
 painter can succeed in the representation of moonlight. The 
 conception of the subject depends much upon the imagination, 
 and the treatment of it must be perfectly ideal. 
 
 542. All genuine works are marked by the mind that origi- 
 nates them. Hence, the styles of painting are as various as 
 designers, among which may be enumerated as the principal 
 and' most general, the grand, the sublime, the ideal, the orna- 
 mental, the rural, and the picturesque. 
 
172 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 543. The elements of the grand style are, simplicity of 
 arrangement, perspicuity in telling the story, sobriety of color, 
 and lofty expression. The introduction of familiar objects in 
 this style, destroys its effect. 
 
 544. In landscape, the grand style requires that the objects 
 introduced should be large and massive, and the situation so 
 chosen as to exclude the access of general or diffusive light. 
 This effect is best produced in the evening or the early morn- 
 ing, because the position of the light then gives depth of shade 
 and extensive shadows. In addition to this, the vapor that 
 softens and obscures the scene, contributes to the expression of 
 vastness essential to grandeur. 
 
 545. This style includes everything in nature that is grand 
 or extraordinary. Rapid and foaming torrents, mountains that 
 have been riven by the earthquake, the storm that in its fury 
 tears up every tree and shrub, or dashes the ship on the rock. 
 In treating subjects of this class, the artist is in danger of falling 
 into exaggeration. When well managed, the effect is highly 
 pleasing ; but success in this style requires the highest effort of 
 mental power, aided by artistic skill. 
 
 546. The sublime style unites force with grandeur, which 
 produces a sudden and powerful effect, and so commands the 
 attention as to gain a strong hold upon the mind. Simplicity 
 eminently belongs to the sublime. Simplicity of intention, of 
 action, and of means. Also a unity of intention, sentiment, 
 and action. Generally speaking, a few objects clearly arranged, 
 an undivided light, a subdued color, and a harmony of parts are 
 essential to the sublime style. To which we may add, a great 
 mind, to combine these simple elements with great effect. 
 
 547. Ideal compositions may be both grand and poetical. In 
 this style the artist has the greatest scope and freedom. 
 
 548. The ornamental style allows multiplied objects ; a minute 
 detail ; a great variety and contrast both in form and color. 
 
 549. The rural style admits of great variety of situation, 
 sometimes embracing a whole valley, in which the shepherd 
 appears with his flock ; or only a simple cottage by the willow- 
 
CLASSIFICATION OF PICTUKES. 173 
 
 covered stream, with a ragged plank thrown across for a foot- 
 bridge. This style is universally pleasing. 
 
 550. Every style, from the grand to the familiar, must be 
 more or less picturesque. In some pictures this is the most 
 prominent characteristic. In others, a more subordinate fea- 
 ture. In landscape, the picturesque is a combination of those 
 regular beauties upon which the eye lingers without weariness ; 
 clumps of trees, bits of projecting rocks, the bald and rugged 
 root of age, so in keeping with the decayed branches and spare 
 foliage above, vines trailing in wild luxuriance, and gracefully 
 waving to the sporting breeze, uneven ground, varied by the 
 rippling stream, or the quiet pool, adding still another charm, 
 by repeating the scene in soft reflection on its calm unruffled 
 surface. From the intricacy, variety, and irregularity of such 
 a combination, deep shades are formed, with brilliant effects of 
 light, and an infinite number of tints and hues, that furnish a 
 beautiful and inexhaustible variety of models to the landscape 
 painter ; and of which the true lover of art fails not to avail 
 himself. 
 
 551. Beyond this, the picturesque admits of all that is irregu- 
 lar, broken, or time-worn. In his selection from so vast a field, 
 the artist must be decided by the character of his subject. Care 
 must be taken not to introduce too many of these beauties in 
 one picture, for the abundant luxuriance of nature would 
 destroy the simplicity which is essential to beauty in works of 
 art. The charms of art are limited to the medium of sight. 
 In the enjoyment of nature many senses are gratified, and if 
 the eye becomes weary of beauty too long enjoyed, relief may 
 be obtained by change of position, when new and beautiful 
 combinations are formed, and varied effects produced, leading 
 us on with ever-renewed pleasure that beguiles all weariness, 
 and to which the most indifferent are not insensible, though un- 
 able to define the reason of their unsated enjoyment. 
 
 552. Artificial beauty furnishes change, but not the extensive 
 variety found in nature. Variety is one of the most essential 
 beauties of composition. Its true end is, to give relief to the 
 
 7 
 
174 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 eye, an effect that may be entirely destroyed by carrying variety 
 to excess. Then the eye is perplexed, and the effect is more 
 displeasing than that produced by sameness, or a variety of 
 objects. Full and unbroken foliage does not afford the variety 
 necessary to picturesque effect. 
 
 553. These various styles require different treatment. The 
 grand for instance, requires a bold, free, and forcible manner. 
 The rural, something more quiet and simple. With a right 
 conception of his subject, there naturally comes a right expres- 
 sion. An original writer has his own natural style ; so an 
 original painter, unconscious of the materials used, after having 
 set his palette, obeys the impulse of his mind, regardless of the 
 mechanism of art. His mind and hand then work in unison, 
 and the expression given in the manner cannot fail to be in 
 harmony with the subject treated. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OF PORTRAIT PAINTING. 
 
 554. FUSELI says : Resemblance, character, costume, are tne 
 three requisites of portrait painting; that resemblance distin- 
 guishes, character classifies, and costume assigns place and time 
 
 to an individual. 
 
 555. Portrait painting has three principal elements, iden- 
 tity, attitude, and color. The air and identity by which a por- 
 trait is recognized, depend not so much upon a correct copy of 
 the features, as upon the general expression of character. In 
 a mechanical copy, there is a cold unmeaning look which few 
 are willing to own, and with which none but the most ignorant 
 are pleased. 
 
 556. It has been a question, whether fidelity requires that 
 the prevailing fashion of the day (of which time never fails to 
 make a caricature,) should be preserved. The general inability 
 of portrait painters to substitute any other, seems however, to 
 give the question a practical decision. 
 
 557. The attitude should be in keeping with the expression, 
 and suited to the age and sex. The old should appear grave 
 and dignified the young, bright and joyous. Motion is suita- 
 ble to the young, but repose is applicable to all ages, and the 
 most universally pleasing in a picture. 
 
 558. The colors in portrait painting are seldom well chosen. 
 Harmony, on which the whole beauty depends, requires that 
 the complexion of the sitter should decide the tone of color. 
 The tone of the brunette is entirely different from the blonde, 
 and requires a different combination of hues. 
 
176 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 559. It is said, that all good historical painters excel in por- 
 traiture ; but that portrait painters have rarely attempted his- 
 tory with success. Raphael, the greatest ideal painter, was also 
 considered the greatest portrait painter. His eye for the beauti- 
 ful and graceful, the commanding and majestic, which guided 
 him in producing those pictures that command the admiration 
 of the world, no doubt led him to idealize the representation of 
 individual characters. This gave him superiority as a portrait 
 painter. ( 293, 294.) 
 
 560. If by his limited knowledge and practice, an artist is 
 confined to a model, the figure represented will be more or less 
 individual, and of course perishable. For history proves, that 
 in works of art, ideal beauty is more pleasing, and will outlast 
 the representation of individual beauty. With one fixed atti- 
 tude and expression, something seems wanting that we look for 
 in vain. "We tire of the unchanging form, and unbroken silence 
 of what we feel to be an individual presence. Such portraits 
 are pleasing from association, which alone determines their 
 value. With ideal representations we do not associate the 
 attachments and forms of social life, and in contemplating them, 
 the attention is beguiled of all weariness by the scope given to 
 the imagination. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LANDSCAPE. 
 
 561. LANDSCAPE has its elements of composition. First 
 drawing, then light and shade, aerial perspective, or degrada- 
 tion, harmony and expression. The objects introduced compre- 
 hend an extensive variety, grounds, plants, trees, rocks, fields, 
 water, figures, and animals ; also, artificial objects, buildings, 
 bridges, etc. 
 
 562. The drawing of a landscape is governed by rules only 
 so far as the laws of perspective are a guide. The taste of the 
 artist must direct in the choice and disposition of the objects, 
 which should be duly arranged according to the foreground, 
 middle-distance and distance. Great care is necessary to pre- 
 serve the gradation in the distances, both in regard to the size 
 and color. All objects that are on the same plane should be 
 equally distinct in form and forcible in color. 
 
 563. The fore-ground should receive the first attention, be- 
 cause it regulates the gradation of the whole scene represented. 
 If shrubs, bushes and trees are introduced, they must be repre- 
 sented with regard to the general truth of form, foliage and 
 colors. But if this care is carried to a strictly botanical repre- 
 sentation, the effect will be stiff and formal. The character of 
 the tree may be perfectly preserved by attention to the general 
 form and the setting of the branches. In nature, we can dis- 
 tinguish an oak from a walnut till their forms are lost in the 
 distance. And he must be an indifferent artist who cannot 
 preserve the same effect on his canvas without minute detail, 
 which is incompatible with a light and pleasing effect. The 
 setting of the branches, if done according to nature, is quite 
 
 8* 
 
178 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 sufficient to mark the character of every tree introduced in a 
 picture. 
 
 564. Some modern landscape painters omit the fore-ground. 
 The picture then looks like the distance and middle-distance of 
 some divided landscape. In doing this, the artist foregoes a 
 great advantage. For it is on the fore-ground, more than upon 
 any other part, that he must depend for giving a pleasing effect. 
 The eye must have distance; but is not satisfied with that 
 alone, however charming it may be. Distance admits of no- 
 thing striking in effect, except in contrast with the fore-ground, 
 upon which its regulation depends. The most beautiful fore- 
 ground will not bear walling in. The eye is never satisfied 
 with a view in nature that has a limited boundary. We all 
 desire to see beyond still farther and farther into the fields of 
 space. No person when climbing a height is satisfied with the 
 view obtained half-way up the summit. He ascends till he 
 reaches the highest point. And the landscape painter must 
 have due regard to this feeling, which is common to all man- 
 kind. Neither must he forget, that the distance is rendered 
 still more attractive to the spectator when conducted towards it 
 by an agreeable pathway. 
 
 565. In the middle distance, objects should be still less defined in 
 form and hue than in the fore-ground, and so on from point to point, 
 till outline and color are gradually lost in the extreme distance. 
 The best general rule in regard to the delineation of objects is, to 
 represent them just as they appear to the eye at the first glance, 
 before examining the details that constitute the whole. The 
 indistinctness of the extreme distance is somewhat compensated 
 by the greater number and variety of the objects it admits. In 
 the fore-ground there can be comparatively few introduced; 
 because of the greater space occupied by each one from its 
 proximity to the point of view. 
 
 566. In some pictures we see -trees with the foliage repre- 
 sented as solid and impenetrable. " Nature never closes her 
 sheltering branches to the nestling bird and should not be so 
 represented." There is nothing pleasing to the eye in this 
 
LANDSCAPE. 179 
 
 regularity of surface. On the contrary, a tree or clump of 
 trees of thin foliage, admits of different degrees of light, shade, 
 and color, and even glimpses of sky beyond ; by all of which 
 a pleasing variety is obtained. Not that one kind of tree is 
 suitable to all subjects, or should be introduced in every land- 
 scape. A more uniform and leafy surface may do for the 
 grand style, or the poetic ; not for the picturesque. But, what- 
 ever the variety introduced, whether in form or color, buildings 
 or figures, all must be harmonized. A scene may be beautifully 
 picturesque, where the sheep are scattered over the fields or 
 adjacent hills ; but if a fine dressed lady is introduced with her 
 crook in the character of a shepherdess, the figure is like a spot 
 on the canvas, because it harmonizes with nothing else in the 
 scene. Neither will a well-groomed horse, or a sleek gray- 
 hound be in keeping with the farm-yard. 
 
 567. We have already considered the laws that govern light 
 and color. With regard to landscape, the most simple arrange- 
 ment is, to have some object receive the principal light that is 
 in itself of a light color. Stony or gravelly earth ; water, or 
 a building, and this local color should regulate the tone given 
 to all the other lights. This object should be in the fore-ground, 
 because that part of the picture, being nearest the spectator, the 
 color is the strongest, becoming less and less decided as it does 
 in proportion to its distance from the point of view. Beyond 
 the fore-ground, a local color can not properly give tone to the 
 picture. The strongest shade as well as the strongest light should 
 be in the fore-ground, from which a true gradation of hues and 
 tints will create space to any extent. 
 
 568. The color should be in harmony with the scene repre- 
 sented. Either of a cool tone, of a deep tone, or of a neutral 
 tone ; and like the color of other pictures should be ideal and 
 for the same reason, viz : that the apparent truth of one part 
 of the composition may not conflict with the evident falsity of 
 another. 
 
 569. In the lessons upon light we learned that objects lose 
 their distinctness in proportion as they recede from the light 
 
180 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 and from the spectator. In an extensive view, there is another 
 cause that must not be overlooked ; and that is, the density and 
 color of the medium through which they are seen. In nature, 
 this medium is the atmosphere which increases in density in 
 proportion to the increase of distance. Therefore the farther 
 objects are removed from the eye, the nearer they approach to 
 the same hue ; because they assume, as it were, the color of the 
 medium through which they are seen. 
 
 570. All objects situated at an equal distance from the eye, 
 and that are seen under the same privation of light, must be 
 equally modified in color. The lights and shades lose their 
 force in proportion to their distance from the point of view, and 
 the density of the medium through which they are seen. Hence 
 we learn, that in landscape painting, privation of light, the dis- 
 tance from the eye, and the medium through which objects are 
 seen, regulates the gradation of color. 
 
 571. The exhalations that cause this density of the atmos- 
 phere, are in greater abundance in the evening than in the 
 morning. At their first ascent they are too minute to cause 
 reflection. Therefore they do not destroy the transparency of 
 the atmosphere. But when by uniting, they have become of 
 such magnitude that colors may be reflected by some, and 
 transmitted by others, clouds are formed, varying in their hues, 
 according to the various magnitudes of the globules of which 
 they are composed. The principles of optics, on which per- 
 spective, both aerial and linear depend, regulate the aspects of 
 nature to the eye. Therefore in design and composition, they 
 must be well understood. This atmospheric obscurity can only 
 be produced by distance. If indistinctness is required to give 
 effect to those parts near the point of view, it must be produced 
 by shade. 
 
 572. The sky, so important a feature in a landscape, is 
 merely the ethereal firmament above us. Or, rather, the air 
 which we breathe. We call the sky blue ; but the painter will 
 find that he cannot produce the right hue without the combina- 
 tion of the three primary colors, red, blue, and yellow. Near 
 
LANDSCAPE. 181 
 
 the horizon, the color of the sky is modified by the accumula- 
 tion of vapors from the earth. A small amount of vapor con- 
 centrates but little color. As it becomes a larger mass, clouds 
 are formed, that exhibit the same tints and hues as other dis- 
 tant objects in the view. Clouds, sometimes, add both charac- 
 ter and beauty to a landscape. The character of the sky is 
 always luminous, and the only object that rivals it in brilliancy 
 is water, in which the clouds are sometimes beautifully re- 
 flected. 
 
 573. The sky requires careful study and arrangement to 
 produce the right effect. The lights formed by the clouds must 
 be arranged in such a manner as not to lose their force. Small 
 clouds seldom have a good effect, and betray a feebleness of 
 manner in the artist, excepting when they are so arranged as to 
 form a single object. 
 
 574. Clouds give expression to the character of the scene re- 
 presented; for instance, as they gather for an approaching 
 storm, or break away to make an opening for the welcome sun- 
 beam, after having deluged the earth with water. And again, 
 they may express the beautiful repose of a quiet summer after- 
 noon. 
 
 575. Water adds a beautiful variety to a lanscape, and is one 
 of its finest features. It is also one of the most difficult branches 
 of art, and is seldom made to exhibit a natural appearance. 
 
 576. The reflections and refractions of light produced by the 
 motions of water, are subject to certain laws of optics, a know- 
 ledge of which is necessary to the landscape painter. It is 
 owing to these refractions and reflections that the surface of the 
 water never presents the true images of objects, except when it 
 is perfectly still and unruffled. Motion, from any cause, pro- 
 duces a continued succession of small waves that are differently 
 inclined to the view of the spectator. Then the images of the 
 objects are reflected in so many various directions as to appear 
 broken and distorted, both in shape and color. 
 
 577. One of the most simple laws, in regard to reflection, is, 
 that the angle of reflection is always equal to the angle of in- 
 
182 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 cidence. Reflections are often incorrectly represented. Their 
 effect depends upon the height of the horizon-line, and the dis- 
 tance of the water from the point of view. When water is 
 broken into spray, it partakes something of the character of 
 clouds. 
 
 578. Water is seldom well represented, and seems not to 
 have received due attention from the student in art. The cold, 
 dead, green color often used to represent water, and the chalky 
 white spray, are a libel upon that great colorist, nature. 
 
 579. We must again refer to the laws of optics, from which 
 we learn that all bodies transmit or absorb light. A small body 
 of water transmits light ; when it is too deep to transmit light, 
 it absorbs it. It follows, that in absorbing light, it absorbs the 
 colors of which light is composed. The color of water, then, or 
 rather its depth of color, is owing to the amount accumulated in 
 one body. The water, as it falls over the horse-shoe at Niagara, 
 is of the most brilliant emerald green, and an entirely different 
 hue from the water of the river. The immense body of water 
 accumulated in the channel below, admits of no transparency. 
 Hence it is of a dull green color or rather of a blackish 
 green so dense, that the body of water appears almost solid. 
 As it flows towards the lake, and the stream widens, and the 
 water becomes less in depth, the green is of a lighter hue. 
 Approaching the St. Lawrence, the water again changes its 
 green to an indigo tint. Water, like clouds, takes its tone of 
 color from the temperature of the atmosphere. If it is cold, the 
 blue will predominate. If it is warm, red will be the prevail- 
 ing hue. 
 
 580. The old landscape painters always introduced figures 
 that would add interest to a landscape; and when they felt 
 incompetent to painting them well, employed others to do it 
 for them. The figures should be in harmony with the charac- 
 ter of the scene, both in form and dress. If properly arranged, 
 they carry the eye over the whole picture, and, more than any 
 other object, attract attention and give interest to the distance. 
 
 581. Fuselisays, "selection is the invention of the landscape 
 
LANDSCAPE. 183 
 
 painter." A pleasing picture can seldom be produced by the 
 transcript of any particular spot. Some accessories are always 
 required to give the right effect. The artist must select parts 
 that are harmonious, and in their combination be guided by his 
 own taste. It is the only way of obtaining the variety and 
 arrangement required for picturesque effect. The most import- 
 ant point is, to preserve the general characteristics of the cli- 
 mate and country represented. 
 
 582. Landscape has its expression. For instance, rocks 
 express solitude. The falling tree that excites terror in some 
 person below, expresses danger. And nothing is more expres- 
 sive of repose than a still, quiet scene, in the cool tone of twi- 
 light. As we contemplate it, the repose in the picture insensi- 
 bly steals over us, till we can almost fancy that, with the 
 lengthened shadows, we feel the coolness of the evening dews. 
 
 583. October is called the painter's month, because at that 
 season the colors are deeper, richer, and more variegated, than 
 at any other. The rays of the sun then fall in a manner to give 
 depth of shade. An effect that is lost in the spring, from the 
 immaturity of the foliage. In autumn, the vapor in the atmos- 
 phere gives beauty and softness to the coloring ; an effect which 
 the painter imitates with advantage. 
 
 584. The landscape painter will choose the subject that best 
 accords with his own feelings ; the scene that affords him the 
 most pleasure. On this depends the spirit of his performance. 
 Few excel in more than one style. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ANCIENT PICTORIAL ARTS. 
 
 585. THE earliest form of the art of painting was what the 
 Italians call al fresco. The word signifies fresh ; and fresco 
 painting implies that the colors were laid on while the plaster 
 which receives them is fresh and still wet. These colors are 
 absorbed by the plaster, and, as it dries, become incorporated 
 with it. Of all the methods of painting, fresco is the most dura- 
 ble, the most ancient, the most expeditiously performed, requires 
 the greatest skill in execution, and is the most suitable style for 
 the embellishment of public buildings. 
 
 586. Of the antiquity of fresco painting there can be little 
 doubt. The Egyptians practiced it from an unknown period, 
 as the paintings in their tombs abundantly prove. It is also 
 found on the walls of their temples, on which the colors are 
 preserved as clear and bright as if they had been freshly 
 painted. The Greeks borrowed the art from the Egyptians, 
 and the paintings of Polygnotus, at Delphi, described by Pau- 
 sanias, are supposed to have been done in fresco. The art 
 seems to have been transmitted from generation to generation, 
 and never entirely lost. During the middle ages it was practi- 
 ced with less skill, and was imperfectly understood in the time 
 of Raffaelle and Michael Angelo. 
 
 587. In the modern practice of the art, the necessary prepa- 
 rations are, the sketch, the colors, which are mineral and pre- 
 pared only with water, and the plaster which is to receive 
 them. The painter's mind must be full of his subject, and 
 everything pre-determined, as this manner of working admits of 
 no alteration or correction. He must have a rapid and decisive 
 
ANCIENT PICTORIAL ARTS. 185 
 
 execution, and be well acquainted with his colors, as they dry 
 lighter than when first laid on. Everything being in readiness, 
 the plasterer renders the wall to such a surface as the artist 
 requires, who pricks his outline through the sketch upon the 
 plaster, and then draws the outline with a style or steel point, 
 to prevent the colors running beyond it. The colors are then 
 applied in a broad and bold manner. The frescoes of Raffaelle 
 are said to be more boldly drawn and more vigorously executed 
 than his easel pictures. It is not certainly known that Michael 
 Angelo ever painted in oil, and the frescoes of Annibal Caracci 
 are considered his finest works. 
 
 588. It has been remarked, that the ancient fresco paintings 
 were more durable, and the modern the more beautiful, excel- 
 ling the ancient in design and gradation of color. It is possible 
 that the ancient method of working did not admit of any varia- 
 tion or gradation of tint. 
 
 589. Distemper is a kind of painting with opaque colors, 
 ground and diluted with water and gluten, used as decorative 
 and scene painting. When applied to paper or paste-board, it 
 is called body-color painting. Distemper painting is executed 
 on plaster, wood, canvas, parchment, or paper, and is considered 
 by some as the most ancient mode practiced. Many statues, 
 discovered in the ancient Egyptian temples and tombs, and 
 many ancient bassi-relievi in Italy, are painted in this manner. 
 If kept from the damp, and external air, they will endure for a 
 great length of time. The colors are brilliant and do not 
 change, and their effect much increased by a bright light. They 
 are therefore best for theatres, and apartments that are used by 
 artificial light. Distemper differs from fresco in being executed 
 on a dry ground. Fresco painting is invariably performed on 
 wet plaster, by which it is absorbed. 
 
 590. Mosaic, in its widest sense, comprises any work which 
 produces a design or painting on a surface, by joining together 
 distinct bodies ; and comprises, first, floors formed of pieces of 
 
186 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 stone of different colors, geometrically cut, and cemented 
 together. Second, windows composed of glass panes of differ- 
 ent colors, which appears to have been known at least to later 
 antiquity. Third, floors inlaid with small cubes of stone, form- 
 ing a colored design, such as were usual in antiquity, not 
 merely in rooms but also in courts and terraces, instead of 
 pavement. 
 
 591. The finer mosaic, imitating pictures, is executed with 
 small pieces of glass, pebbles, enamel, etc., fixed upon any given 
 surface by means of mastic. Mosaic works are also executed 
 with precious stones, cut into very thin leaves, and fixed on a 
 stone ground. This branch of art was much practiced by the 
 ancients, but their method of working is not known. The pre- 
 sent method is to cut in a stone plate a space suited to the size 
 of the subject. This space is then covered with thick mastic, 
 on which are laid, according to the design, the various sub- 
 stances used. In the course of time the mosaic acquires the 
 consistency of stone, and is susceptible of a polish like crystal. 
 But the brilliancy thus acquired is injurious to the effect of the 
 design, which is not so clearly perceived through it. The 
 mosaics applied to cupolas and ceilings are generally less elabo- 
 rately polished, as the distance from which they are viewed, 
 prevents the spectator from detecting any irregularities of sur- 
 face, or the interstices between the pieces of which the 
 work is composed. This roughness is also essential to a right 
 effect when placed at a distance from the spectator. If soft- 
 ened by art and distance both, the work would lose all force 
 and spirit. 
 
 592. The origin of mosaic work must apparently be traced 
 to the East, where their rich carpets were imitated in stone. 
 It is probable that the art was known to the Phoenicians, but 
 its perfection is attributed to the Greeks. Toward the end of 
 the Republic, it passed with other arts from Greece into Rome, 
 when the Italian conquerors carried from that country into their 
 own, the most beautiful specimens of mosaic. 
 
 593. Scylla was the first Roman who caused a piece of mosaic 
 
ANCIENT PICTORIAL ARTS. 187 
 
 work to be executed. It still exists, or at least a large portion 
 of it in the temple of Fortune, at Praeneste, now Palestrina. 
 At first they ornamented in this manner the pavements of build- 
 ings only. It was afterwards extended to the walls and arched 
 ceilings. The discovery of colored glass, by the variety of 
 shades it afforded, greatly promoted the art. 
 
 594. "The age of Pope Leo the Great, (A.D. 440 to 462), 
 is distinguished by an imposing work, the conception of which 
 is attributable probably to the Pope himself, and which became 
 a favorite example for subsequent times we mean the mosaics 
 on the arch of triumph in St. Paolo Fuori le Mura, in Rome, 
 which partially survived the unfortunate fire in 1823, and are 
 now in progress of repair. Within a cruciform nimbus fifteen 
 feet in diameter, and surrounded with rays, shines forth in the 
 centre the colossal figure of the Savior the right hand raised 
 in benediction, the left holding the sceptre ; a delicately folded 
 mantle of thin material covers the shoulders ; the form is stern, 
 but grand in conception ; the eye-brows in finely arched half- 
 circles above the widely opened eyes; the nose in a straight 
 Grecian line ; the mouth, which is left clear of all beard, 
 clothed with an expression of mild serenity, and hair and beard 
 divided in the centre. Above, in the clouds, on a smaller scale, 
 are seen the four winged animals bearing the books of the 
 gospels ; lower down two angels (perhaps one of the earliest 
 specimens of angel representation), are lowering their wands 
 before the Redeemer, on each side of whom the four-and-twenty 
 elders are humbly casting their crowns those on the right, 
 bare-headed, the others covered ; the one signifying the pro- 
 phets of the Old Testament, who only saw the truth through 
 a veil ; the other, the apostles of the New Testament, who 
 beheld it face to face. Finally, below these, where only a 
 narrow space remains next the arch, appear on the left, St. 
 Paul with the sword, and on the right, St. Peter with the keys ; 
 both in the style of the divided hair, somewhat approaching the 
 type of Christ ; both in active gesture as if engaged in the pro- 
 clamation of the Gospel." 
 
 5* 
 
188 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 595. "The principal mosaics of the sixth century are, in 
 point of conception, scarcely inferior to those of the fifth, and 
 in splendor of material by no means so. The finest mosaics 
 of ancient Rome belonging to this period, (A. D. 526 and 530), 
 are those of S. S. Cosmo and Damiano. Above the arch of 
 the tolerably spacious apsis, appear, on each side of the Lamb, 
 four angels of excellent but somewhat severe style ; then follow 
 various apocalyptic emblems ; a modern walling up having left 
 but few traces of the figures of the four-and-twenty elders. A 
 gold surface dimmed by age with little purple clouds forms the 
 back-ground; though in Rome at both an earlier and later 
 date a blue ground prevailed. In the apsis itself, upon a dark- 
 blue ground, with golden-edged clouds, is seen the colossal 
 figure of Christ ; the right hand raised either in benediction or 
 teaching ; the left holding a written scroll ; above is the hand 
 that is the emblem of the first person of the trinity, (o) Below, 
 on each side, the apostles Peter and Paul are leading S. S. 
 Cosmo and Damiano, each with crowns in their hands, towards 
 the Savior, followed by St. Theodore on the right and Pope 
 Felix IV., the founder of the church, on the left. This latter, 
 unfortunately, is an entirely restored figure. Two palm trees 
 sparkling with gold, above one of which appears the emblem 
 of eternity the Phoenix, with a star-shaped nimbus, close the 
 composition on each side. Further below, indicated by water- 
 plants, sparkling also with gold, is the river Jordan. The 
 figure of Christ may be regarded as one of the most marvellous 
 specimens of the art of the middle ages."* 
 
 596. Encaustic painting was a very extensive branch of 
 ancient art, and was employed especially in animal and flower- 
 pieces. There were three kinds : first, the mere burning in of 
 the outlines on ivory with the style ; second, applying colored 
 wax, commonly on wooden tablets (but also in burnt clay), with 
 the aid of hot pencils, which were followed by a complete blend- 
 ing and softening down ; third, the painting of ships with brushes 
 
 * Kugler's Hand Book of Painting. 
 
ANCIENT PICTORIAL ARTS. 189 
 
 dipped in a kind of fluid, formed of wax, mixed with pitch, 
 which was not only ornamental, but also served as a protection 
 against the action of the sea-water. 
 
 597. Muller remarks, that we must rest satisfied with these 
 slender data, gathered from passages in the ancient writers, as 
 the attempts to revive this lost art of painting have not hitherto 
 yielded any satisfactory result. 
 
 598. Enamel is the art of variegating colors, laid upon or into 
 another body. It is also a mode of painting with vitrified colors, 
 on gold, silver, copper, etc., and of melting it by heat. 
 
 599. The art of enameling is of great antiquity, and its origin 
 unknown. From the remains found on the ornamental enve- 
 lopes of mummies, it was evidently practiced by the Egyptians. 
 From Egypt it passed into Greece, and afterwards into Rome. 
 
 600. The basis of all kinds of enamel is a perfectly trans- 
 parent and fusible glass, which is rendered either transparent 
 or opaque by the addition of the metallic oxydes. The art of 
 coloring glass seems to be nearly of the same antiquity as the 
 art of making it, which is proved by the variously colored glass 
 corals, with which several of the Egyptian mummies are 
 decorated. 
 
 601. " Gorgeous specimens of enamel upon gold were a 
 special department of Byzantine workmanship. The republic 
 of Venice ordered for St. Marks' the most costly piece that 
 Constantinople could furnish, and which is still preserved in 
 that church. It consists of a number of delicate gold plates, 
 upon which Christ and the saints, with biblical scenes, and the 
 life of St. Mark, are represented in an enamel of the deepest 
 colors. The enamels of the Mediaeval times present no grada- 
 tions of tints, and the lights and shades are expressed by gold 
 hatchings (whether scratched out, or laid on, we know not), 
 which only a microscopic eye can trace. In the treasury of St. 
 Marks there are golden reliquaries of a similar workmanship, 
 some of them, perhaps, the fruits of the pillage of Constanti- 
 nople (A. D. 1204), of which scarcely anything else is extant. 
 
190 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 When Art is identified with materials so tempting to the spoiler, 
 she must renounce all hope of descending to posterity."* 
 
 602. The ancients knew nothing of oil-painting. The art is 
 said to have been discovered by John Van Eyck, or John of 
 Bruges, about the year 1410. This, however, is a matter of 
 question, and much has been written on both sides. From the 
 various statements made on the subject, it seems probable that 
 an imperfect practice of painting in oil existed before the time 
 of Van Eyck. It was practiced beyond the Alps, but is not 
 known to have been in use at that time in Italy. Giovani im- 
 proved upon the discovery till he perfected the art, which was 
 afterwards diffused over Europe, and introduced into Italy by 
 Antonio, -or Antonello da Messnia. An analysis of several 
 Tuscan paintings was made at Pisa by an able chemist, that 
 were apparently colored in oil. The most lucid parts were 
 found to contain particles of wax, a material employed in the 
 encaustij and not forgotten by the Greeks, who instructed 
 Giunta and his contemporaries. It would appear that they 
 applied it as a varnish, to act as a covering and protection 
 against humidity, as well as to give a polish. It has been 
 observed, that the proportion of wax used decreased during the 
 fourteenth century, and after the year 1360, was succeeded by 
 a vehicle that carries no gloss. In these chemical experiments, 
 oil was never elicited, if we except a few drops of essential oil, 
 which the learned professor conjectures was employed at that 
 early period, to dissolve the wax that was combined with the 
 colors. Besides this material, certain gums and yolks of eggs 
 were used, which easily deceive the eye of the less skillful, as 
 they resemble those pictures that exhibit a scanty portion of 
 oil. Many pictures were analyzed, and no traces of oil found. 
 The colors consisted of the finest gums, mixed with the yolk 
 and white of eggs, a fact that afforded just grounds for a like 
 conclusion in regard to similar works by the ancients. 
 
 * Rugler's Hand-Book of Painting, p. 80. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SYMBOLIC COLORS.* 
 
 603. THE history of symbolic colors, as yet but little known, 
 and of which I present only fragments, will, perhaps, tend to 
 decipher some of the hieroglyphics of Egypt, and to unveil 
 some of the mysteries of antiquity. I do not flatter myself that 
 I have accomplished the object of my investigations. My sole 
 ambition is to excite the attention of the learned on one of the 
 most curious and neglected points of archaeology. 
 
 604. Colors had the same signification amongst all nations of 
 remotest antiquity. This conformity indicates a common origin, 
 which extends to the earliest state of humanity, and develops its 
 highest energies in the religion of Persia. The dualism of light 
 and darkness presents, in effect, the two types of colors, which 
 become the symbols of two principles, benevolence and malevo- 
 lence. The ancients admitted but two primitive colors : white 
 and black, whence all others were derived. The divinities of 
 Paganism were likewise emanations of the good and evil prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 605. The language of colors, intimately connected with re- 
 ligion, passed into India, China, Egypt, Greece, Rome, reap- 
 peared in the middle ages, and the large windows of Gothic 
 cathedrals found their explanation in the books of the Zends, 
 the Vedas, and the paintings of the Egyptian temples. 
 
 606. The identity of symbols implies the identity of primi- 
 tive creeds ; but, in proportion as religion departs from its 
 principle, degrades and materializes itself, she forsakes the 
 
 * Abridged from the French of Le Baron Frederic de Porta.. 
 
192 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 signification of colors, and this mysterious language revives 
 with religious truth. The nearer the origin of religions is 
 approximated, the more truth appears despoiled of the impure 
 alloy of human superstitions. She shines with the most vivid 
 light in Iran, the country of the most ancient people. The 
 Iranians firmly believed that a Supreme God created the world 
 by an act of his power, and that his Providence governed it 
 continually. They profess to fear him, to love him, and piously 
 adore him, and to honor their relations and aged persons. They 
 had a paternal affection for all mankind, and even a tender 
 compassion for animals. 
 
 607. Sabeism, the worship of the heavenly host, obscured 
 these sublime doctrines, without annihilating them. They were 
 preserved in the Desatir and Zent-Avesta, and, if the truth 
 were hidden from the profane, it was yet found under the sym- 
 bols of these sacred books. 
 
 608. The more a religion advances from its origin, the more 
 it becomes materialized, and, proceeding from degradation to 
 degradation, finally arrives at Fetish. 
 
 609. The adoration of the negroes is the last expression of 
 the dogmas of Ethiopia and Egypt. Even in the time of Moses, 
 the Egyptian religion evinced the elements of decrepitude and 
 dissolution. The symbol had become the god ; truth, forgotten 
 by the people, was exiled from the sanctuaries, and very soon 
 the priests themselves began to lose the signification of their 
 sacred language. These observations apply equally to India 
 and its corrupt Brahmins ; to China and its shameful Bonzes ; to 
 those Israelites who sacrificed to the idols of foreigners, and to 
 every mode of worship. 
 
 610. This custom, fatal to humanity, explains the necessity 
 of successive revelations. Judaism and Christianity are divine, 
 by the isolated fact that the intervention of the divinity was ne- 
 cessary, indispensable. How, otherwise, can the progress of 
 mankind, in spiritual religion, be reconciled with the tendency 
 of every people to materialize its worship ? 
 
 611. The ancient religion of Iran is forgotten, and its sacred 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 193 
 
 symbols : the light, the sun, the planets, are deified. It is at the 
 epoch when this revolution is accomplished, that Abraham goes 
 out of Chaldca, and revivifies the truth, about to be annihilated. 
 In Egypt and India, the priesthood still preserved the deposito- 
 ries of sacred knowledge, while the people were immersed in 
 ignorance. Polytheism shrouded the world with its funereal 
 veil. Then, God revealed himself in the call of the Patriarch, 
 and from one family, as the element of society, religion was pro- 
 pagated in the world. 
 
 612. This prevailing human tendency led to the idolatry of 
 the captive Jews in Egypt. Moses appeared, the truth was de- 
 monstrated, and the elect people, scarcely snatched from vain 
 superstitions, relapsed into lethargy. In the desert, they sa- 
 crificed to the calf Apis. They trampled under foot the holy 
 law in the land of Israel, separated themselves, and invoked the 
 bloody gods of the barbarians. But the Eternal will not aban- 
 don the work of regeneration. The prophet nation had accom- 
 plished its mission, and the Son of God, the Savior of the world, 
 appeared in his humanity to call all nations to the feast of life. 
 
 613. Thus, the fall of the first man is reflected in the history 
 of every people. This fatal consequence establishes the uni- 
 versal doctrine of the forfeiture and reinstatement by divine 
 intervention. 
 
 ******* 
 
 614. The symbols of the divinity, materialized by important 
 nations, were the origin of creeds which besotted the people of 
 antiquity, and arrested the march of human intellect for four 
 thousand years. 
 
 615. St. Clement of Alexandria informs us that the Egyptians 
 used three sorts of characters for writing. Varro, the most 
 learned Roman, establishes the existence of three theologies ; 
 and, in the history of religions, we find three epochs, marked 
 by three distinct languages. 
 
 616. The Divine Language, at first, addresses itself to all 
 men, and reveals to them the existence of God. Symbolism is 
 the language of every people, as religion is the property of each 
 
 9 
 
194 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 family. As yet, there is no priest, and each father is king and 
 pontiff. 
 
 617. The Consecrated Language commenced in the sanc- 
 tuaries. It regulates the symbolism of .architecture, of sculpture 
 and of painting, as well as the ceremonies of worship, and the 
 costume of priests. This primary materialization confines the 
 divine language under impenetrable veils. 
 
 618. The Profane Language, the material expression of 
 symbols, is the provision assigned to nations given up to 
 idolatry. 
 
 619. At first, God speaks to man the heavenly language con- 
 tained in the Bible, and the most ancient religious codes of the 
 East ; but soon the sons of Adam forget this heritage, and God 
 reiterates the word under the symbols of the consecrated lan- 
 guage. It regulates the costume of Aaron, and of the Levites, 
 and the rites of worship. Religion becomes exterior. Man 
 wishes to see it, for he no more feels it within him. 
 
 620. In the last degree of corruption, humanity only compre- 
 hends the material. Accordingly, the divine word becomes in- 
 carnate, to make it heard in the profane language, as a last echo 
 of eternal truth. 
 
 621. The history of symbolic colors testifies this triple origin. 
 Each gradation of color bears different significations in each of 
 the three languages : Divine, Consecrated, and Profane. 
 
 622. Let us briefly follow the historical development of 
 these symbols. 
 
 623. The most ancient religious traditions inform us that the 
 Iranians assign to each planet a beneficent or a malignant in- 
 fluence, according to their color and degree of light. 
 
 624. In Genesis, God says to Noah : " The rainbow shall be 
 the sign of the covenant between me and the earth." In my- 
 thology, Iris is the messenger of the gods, and of good things ; 
 and the colors of the rainbow, and of the cincture of Iris, are 
 the symbols of regeneration, which is the covenant of God and 
 man. 
 
 625. In Egypt, the robe of Isis was resplendent with all 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 195 
 
 colors, and every hue displayed in nature. Osiris, the god all- 
 powerful, gives the life ; Isis modifies it, and transmits it to man 
 by reflection. Iris is reflection, the earth and her symbolic robe 
 were the hieroglyphics of the material and the spiritual world. 
 
 02 G. The fathers of the church saw in the old testament the 
 symbols of the new covenant. If the religion of Christ be of 
 God, and the children of Abraham received the Holy Word, 
 the two tables of the Mosaic and of the Christian law, would 
 unite in one common expression. Joseph was a symbol of tfoe 
 Messiah, and his robe, diapered with the most beautiful tints, 
 which his father gave him, was, says St. Cyril, the emblem of 
 his divine attributes. 
 
 627. Such were the symbols of divine language when conse 
 crated language was instituted. 
 
 628. Religion gave birth to the arts. It was to ornament 
 temples and sacred precincts that sculpture and painting were 
 first introduced. This fact is applicable, not only to the history 
 of the human race, but is found true in the origin of every 
 people. In the most ancient monuments of India and Egypt, 
 as in those of the middle ages, Architecture, Sculpture, and 
 Painting, are the material expressions of religious ideas. 
 
 629. Painting among the Hindoos, the Egyptians, and in our 
 own days, among the Chinese, imposes its regulations in the 
 national worship and politic laws. The least alteration in the 
 drawing or coloring incurs a serious punishment. 
 
 630. The Egyptian priests would not allow metal founders 
 or statuaries to make representations of the gods, for fear they 
 would deviate from established laws. No artist was allowed to 
 make the slightest variation, either in color or form, and an 
 investigation of the subject shows that they wrought from the 
 same prescribed laws century after century. 
 
 631. At Rome, the penalty of death was incurred by selling 
 or being clothed in a purple stuff. At this day, in China, the 
 punishment is three hundred stripes, and three years imprison- 
 
196 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 ment to any one who wears or buys clothes with the proscribed 
 designs of the Phoenix and the Dragon. 
 
 632. Symbolism explains this severity of laws and customs. 
 Some religious idea was attached to each form and to every 
 color, and to change or alter was a crime of apostacy or rebel- 
 lion. Art being the depository and interpreter of sacred mys- 
 teries, the form and color of sacred objects, were essentially 
 restrictive. Perspective, chiaro-scuro, and demi-tints, would 
 have led to confusion. Therefore, they were unknown, or their 
 manifestation severely repressed. 
 
 633. Reverting to the origin of writing, color evidently was 
 the first mode of transmitting thought and preserving memory. 
 The quipos of Peru and the Chinese, strings tinted with 
 various colors, formed the archives, religious, political and ad- 
 ministrative of these primitive people. Colors are important 
 in the paintings of the Mexicans, and the Egyptian hierogly- 
 phics were the apogee, and the last term of this symbolic 
 writing, (p) 
 
 634. The profane language of colors was a degradation from 
 the divine and the consecrated languages. Traces reappear 
 among the Greeks and Romans. In scenic representations, the 
 colors were significant. A curious passage of Pollux explains 
 these emblems employed in the costume of the theatre. Tradi- 
 tion still finds them there, but materialized in our own times. 
 
 635. Christianity, in recalling the forgotten significations, 
 restored a new energy to the language of colors. The doctrine 
 taught by Christ was not, therefore, new, since it borrowed the 
 symbols of ancient religions. The Son of God, in leading man- 
 kind back to truth, came not to change, but to fulfil the law. 
 This law was the worship of the true God, revealed primitively 
 to all men, and preserved in the holy ark of Judaism. Moses 
 and the prophets quote some sacred books, which are not found 
 in the Bible. The wars of the Lord, the prophecies, and the 
 book of the Just* had then announced the Divine word to 
 
 * See Numbers, xxi. Jeremiah, xlviii. 2 Kings, chap. i. Joshua, x. 
 1 Kings, chap, xi., v. 41. 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 197 
 
 other nations. We shall find manifest proof of this in investi- 
 gating the monuments of antiquity of the middle ages. 
 
 636. The three languages of colors divine, consecrated, and 
 profane classify, in Europe, the three estates of society : the 
 clergy, the nobles, and the people. 
 
 637. The large glass windows of Christian churches, like the 
 paintings of Egypt, have a double signification : the apparent 
 and the hidden. The one is for the uninitiated, the other ap- 
 plies itself to the mystic creeds. The theocratic era lasts to the 
 renaissance, (q) At this epoch, symbolic expression becomes 
 extinct. The divine language of colors is forgotten, painting 
 ceases to be a science, and is practiced only as an art. 
 
 638. The aristocratic era commences. Symbolism, banished 
 from the church, takes refuge at the court. Disdained by 
 painting, it is found again in heraldry. 
 
 639. The origin of armorial bearings loses itself in the dark 
 ages, and appears connected with the first elements of writing. 
 Egyptian hieroglyphics, like the earliest Aztic paintings, indi- 
 cate the signification of a subject by emblems, or speaking arms. 
 To remove any doubts on this point, it is sufficient to glance 
 over the Mexican paintings with the explanations that have 
 been presented to us. The representation of Egyptian and 
 Indian divinities, compounded of monstrous human and animal 
 forms, had doubtless a hidden meaning. In Greece, the pro- 
 gress of art liberated sculpture and painting from these hybrid 
 creations, but the divinities were confounded in a similar type. 
 Attributes were given them. Jupiter had for arms, the eagle 
 and the thunderbolt. Minerva, the olive and the owl. Venus, 
 the dove. 
 
 640. The middle ages renewed the strange creations of re- 
 mote antiquity, and mixed compositions appear on the most 
 ancient monuments of Christian art, for Christianity, as well as 
 Paganism, must borrow symbolical language to paint its dogmas. 
 
 641. The emblazoned shields of the nobles are barred with 
 iron, as the only mode of recognizing the knights in the melee. 
 In their origin all arts were significant. The kingdom of Gre- 
 
198 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 nada had nine grenades, that of Galicia a chalice, that of Leon 
 a lion, and that of Castile a castle. Afterwards heraldry per- 
 petuated in families the memory of great actions and high deeds 
 of arms, but the primitive signification was frequently forgotten. 
 In these representations, where everything was emblematic, 
 colors doubtless had their meaning. Authors of the heraldic 
 art affirm it, and we have preserved the meaning of metals and 
 enamels of which the tradition extends to the Greeks. 
 
 642. The traditions of antiquity preserved the colors of her- 
 aldry pure for a long period, and on some monuments the 
 solemn language of arms facilitates the apprehension of the 
 divine language employed in the principal subject, as phonetic 
 writing enclosed in a cartouche, gives the name of the person- 
 age represented on Egyptian anaglyphs. The gallantry of the 
 Moors, and their amorous mysticism, closed the aristocratic era, 
 and introduced the popular language of colors, which is pre- 
 served to the present time. 
 
 643. The seclusion of females in the East, gave a new im- 
 portance to the emblems of colors. They replaced the colloquial 
 language, as the selam or symbolic bouquet became the writ- 
 ten language of love. 
 
 644. Among the Arabs, as amongst all nations, that language 
 had a religious origin. In ancient Persia, the spirits or genii 
 had flowers consecrated to them. This symbolic Flora is found 
 in India and in Egypt, in Greece and at Rome. 
 
 645. The selam of the Arabs appears to have borrowed its 
 emblems from the language of colors. The Koran gives the 
 mystic reason. The colors that the earth exhibits to our eyes, 
 says Mahomet, are manifest signs for those who think. This 
 remarkable passage explains the diapered robe borne by Isis 
 or Nature conceived as a vast hieroglyphic. The colors which 
 shine on the earth correspond to the shadows which the seer 
 perceives in the world of spirits, where all is spiritual and con- 
 sequently significant. Such, at least, is the origin of the sym 
 bolism of colors in the books of prophecy and the Apocalyps- 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 199 
 
 The Koran reproduces the same theory in the visions and cos- 
 tumes of Mahomet. 
 
 (M 0. The Moors of Spain materializing these symbols, formed 
 a hmii'iiuiiv, which had its principles and its dictionary. A 
 modern author has given a catalogue of more than sixty of 
 these emblematic colors, their meaning and their combinations. 
 France has adopted them, and preserves their traces in modern 
 language. Blue is still the emblem of fidelity, yellow of jeal- 
 ousy, red of cruelty, white of innocence, black of sadness and 
 mourning, and green, of hope. 
 
 647. Thus ends the symbolism of colors, and however its last 
 expression may be materialized, it yet testifies its noble origin. 
 Modern painting still preserves its tradition in church pictures. 
 St. John wears a green robe, Christ and the Virgin are draped 
 in red and blue, and God in white. Symbolism, that ancient 
 science, became an art, and is at present little more than an 
 affair of the workshop. 
 
 648. According to symbolism, two principles, light and dark- 
 ness, produce all colors. Light is represented by white, and 
 darkness by black. But light does not exist except by fire, the 
 symbol of which is red. Setting out from this basis, symbolism 
 admits two primitive colors red and white. Black was con- 
 sidered the negation of colors, and attributed to the spirit of 
 darkness. Red is the symbol of divine love, white the symbol 
 of divine wisdom. From these two attributes of God, love and 
 wisdom, the creation of the universe emanates. 
 
 649. Secondary colors represent different combinations of 
 the two principles in their symbolical meaning. 
 
 650. Yellow emanates from red and white. It is the symbol 
 of the revelation of the love and of the wisdom of God. 
 
 651. Blue emanates likewise from red and white. It indL 
 cates divine wisdom manifested by life, by the spirit or the 
 breath of God (azure, air). It is the symbol or the spirit of 
 truth. St. John, xv., 17, and xvi., 13. 
 
 652. Green is formed by the union of yellow and blue. It 
 indicates the manifestation of love and wisdom in action. It 
 
200 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 was the symbol of charity, and of the regeneration of the soul 
 by works. 
 
 653. The compound hues, rose, purple, hyacinth, violet, gray, 
 tan, etc., receive their significations from the colors that com- 
 pose them. That which predominates, gives to the hue its 
 general signification, and that which is subordinate, the modified. 
 Thus purple, which is of a red azure, signifies the love of 
 truth. Hyacinth, which is of a blue purple, signifies the truth 
 of love. These two significations would seem to confound them- 
 selves at their source, but the applications will show the differ- 
 ence that exists between them. 
 
 654. The rule of oppositions is common to the language of 
 colors, as well as to symbols in general. It attributes to them 
 the signification opposed to that which they possess directly. In 
 Genesis, the serpent represents the evil spirit, and the fathers 
 of the church call the Messiah the good serpent. In Egypt 
 water was the symbol of regeneration, and the sea was repre- 
 sented by Typhon, the type of moral degradation. Thus red 
 signifies love, egotism, and hatred. Green signifies wisdom and 
 folly, celestial regeneration and infernal degradation. This 
 rule, far from causing obscurity, or arbitrariness in the signifi- 
 cation of symbols, gives them an energy unknown to common 
 expressions. Therefore, in the symbolism of colors, it has been 
 preserved as one of its greatest beauties. Black united to 
 other colors in effect gives them a contrary signification. Black, 
 the symbol of evil and falsehood, is not a color, but the nega- 
 tion of all hues, and of that which they represent. Thus, red 
 designates divine love. United with black, it is the symbol of 
 infernal love, of egotism, of hatred, and of all the passions of 
 degraded man. 
 
 OF WHITE AS A CONSECRATED LANGUAGE. 
 
 655. The priest represents the Deity on earth. In all reli- 
 gions, the sovereign pontiff had white vestments, symbol of 
 uncreated light. 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 201 
 
 656. Jehovah commanded Aaron not to enter the sanctuary 
 unless clothed in white. " Speak to Aaron, thy brother, (said 
 he to Moses) that he enter not into the sanctuary at all times 
 lest he die ; for I will reveal myself on the mercy-seat. He 
 shall be invested with the holy linen robe, girt with the linen 
 cincture, and he shall wear the mitre of linen. These are holy 
 vestments." Lev. xvi. 
 
 657. The magi wore white robes, and said the divinity was 
 not pleased but with white vestments. White horses were 
 sacrificed to the sun, the image of divine light. The white 
 tunic given by Ormusd, the luminous god, is still the character- 
 istic costume of the Parses. 
 
 658. In Egypt, a white tiara decorates the head of Osiris. 
 His ornaments are white, as were those of Aaron, and the 
 Egyptian priests wear the linen robe like that of Levi. In 
 Greece, Pythagoras ordered the sacred hymns to be chanted in 
 white robes. The priests of Jupiter had white vestments. At 
 Rome, the flamen dialis alone had the right to wear a white 
 tiara. The victims offered to Jupiter were white. Plato and 
 Cicero consecrate this color to the Deity. 
 
 659. Returning into Asia, the same symbol is adopted by the 
 Brahmins. Traversing Tartary, it is again found among the 
 Scandinavians, the Germans, and the Celts. Pliny relates that 
 the Druids wore white vestments, and sacrificed white oxen. 
 Finally, the Christian painters of the middle ages represent the 
 Eternal draped in white, and also Jesus Christ, after the resur- 
 rection. The chief of the Roman church wears on earth the 
 livery of God. 
 
 660. In the sacred language of the bible, white vestments 
 are the symbols of the regeneration of souls, and the recom- 
 pense of the elect. "He who conquers, shall be clothed in 
 white," says the Scripture, "and I will not efface his name 
 from the book of life. The kingdom of heaven belongs to those 
 who have washed and whitened their robes in the blood of the 
 Lamb." 
 
 661. White was consecrated to the dead by all antiquity, and 
 
 9* 
 
202 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 became also a color of mourning. The monuments of Thebes 
 represented the shades of the departed clothed in white robes. 
 According to Herodotus, the Egyptians enveloped the dead in 
 white sheets. This custom is found in Greece from the highest 
 antiquity. Homer mentions it at the death of Patroclus. Py- 
 thagoras orders its observance to his disciples as a happy pre- 
 sage of immortality. Plutarch recalls the doctrine of this 
 philosopher, and explains the symbol which was customary 
 throughout Greece. 
 
 662. Pausanias observed the same custom among the Mes- 
 senians. They enshrouded chief personages in white vestments 
 and crowned them. This double symbol indicated the triumph 
 of the soul over the empire of darkness. 
 
 663. The Hebrews had the same custom. The Evangelist 
 Matthew, says that Joseph, having taken the body of the Lord, 
 wrapped it in a white linen cloth ; and this example became 
 the law of all Christians. 
 
 664. The initiation, or regeneration of the soul, commences 
 by an image of death. The mystics were clothed in white, and 
 the neophytes of the primitive church, wore a white robe during 
 eight days. Young girls, catechumens, still wear it. And in 
 the obsequies of virgins, white draperies testify their innocence 
 and celestial initiation. 
 
 665. It is unnecessary to pursue the history" of these rites in 
 the East. It is sufficient to cite an example from the Japanese 
 custom. In Japan, marriage is considered as a new existence 
 to the female. She dies to her past life to revive to her hus- 
 band. The bed of the betrothed is placed with the pillow 
 towards the north, similar to the practice for the dead, and she 
 wears the white mortuary robe. This ceremony announces to 
 the parents that they are about to lose their daughter. 
 
 OF YELLOW AS A CONSECRATED LANGUAGE. 
 
 666. In the Bible, the sun represents love divine, when it is 
 opposed to the moon symbol of wisdom. It is also of the 
 gold which indicates the goodness of God, opposed to silver, 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 203 
 
 emblem of divine truth. The sun, gold, and yellow, are not 
 synonymes, but mark different degrees which it is difficult to 
 determine with precision. The natural sun is the symbol of the 
 spiritual Son. Gold expressed the natural sun, and yellow was 
 the emblem of gold. 
 
 GO 7. Gold was consecrated to Horus. Also to Vishnou, and 
 to Mithras. Appollo is the same divinity, representative of one 
 and the same dogma. But in its progress from east to west, the 
 myth becomes materialized, and in Greece, Apollo is the 
 personification of the sun. 
 
 668. The symbol becomes God. The people adore the 
 Heavenly host. Sabeism reigns in the East. Then Abra- 
 ham goes forth from Chaldea. The idols are destroyed, still 
 the symbol remains the same. Moses appeared to the Israelites 
 shining with light, and rays illuminated his face. The prophet 
 Habakkuk announces the coming of the Holy one. His splen- 
 dor, says he, shall shine as a living light. Rays shall issue from 
 his hand. It is there where his strength is hidden. The hand 
 was the emblem of power, and the rays of the sun designate 
 the manifestation of the love and the wisdom of God. 
 
 669. It is not surprising, therefore, that the fathers of the 
 church, by the example of the prophets, named Jesus Christ, 
 the light, the sun, the east, and that gold should be his symbol. 
 It is apparent why Christian artists gave to Jesus Christ 
 flaxen hair golden, like Apollo's, and placed the glory 
 (aureole) round his head, and also on that of the Virgin and 
 the apostles. In Egypt the circle of gold figured the course 
 of the sun, and the accomplishment of the year. The Messiah, 
 the divine sun, accomplished a religious period. He opened 
 a new era of which the aureole, or crown of glory was the 
 natural symbol, (r) 
 
 670. In consecrated language, gold and yellow received the 
 particular acceptation of revelation made by the priest, or of 
 religious doctrines taught in the temples. This metal and this 
 color represented initiation to the mysteries, or the light revealed 
 to the profane. 
 
204: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 671. Annubis is the personification of the Egyptian initiator. 
 The dog was consecrated to this deity, because he was the 
 guardian of the holy doctrine shut up in the sanctuaries. Egyp- 
 tian monuments represent him with the head of a dog, and 
 Virgil and Ovid give him the name of a barker. Sirius, or the 
 dog-star, was, according to the Persians, the sentinel of heaven, 
 and the guardian of the gods. The sick implored his aid before 
 dying, and gave a little food to a dog that was led to the bed. 
 The dog, it was said, was the symbol of the great initiation to 
 the mysteries of death. 
 
 672. Color is the thread of Ariadne, which guides us in the 
 labrynth of ancient religions. The dog initiator, who strikes 
 and repulses the spirits of darkness, had, according to the Zent- 
 Avesta, the eyes and eye-brows yellow, and ears white and yel- 
 low. The yellow eye was the emblem of understanding 
 enlightened by revelation. The ears, white and yellow, figur- 
 ed the instruction of the holy doctrine, which is divine wis- 
 dom revealed. 
 
 673. The statues of Annubis were of gold or gilt. The name 
 of this divinity, which is again found in the Coptic language, 
 signifies equally gold or gilt, Annul). Annubis, as a personifica- 
 tion of the human sciences, took the name of Thot, of which the 
 Greeks make Hermes, and the Romans, Mercury. 
 
 674. Mercury Hermanubis is the interpreter and messenger 
 of the gods. He conducts the ghosts into hell. A chain of 
 gold issues from his mouth, and is attached to the ears of those 
 whom he wishes to lead. He holds in his hand a golden rod. 
 One half of his countenance is represented bright, and the other 
 half dark emblems of initiation and of death where the strug- 
 gle of the two antagonistic principles, light and darkness, are 
 re-produced. 
 
 675. Greek art, enamored by beauty of form, took from Her- 
 manubis his characteristic symbol, the head of the dog; but 
 this animal, separated from the divinity, does not less pre- 
 serve its sacred signification. The temple of Vulcan on Etna, 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 205 
 
 * 
 
 it is said, was guarded by dogs. They attracted the virtuous by 
 their caresses, and destroyed the impious. 
 
 676. Mercury was the tutelar divinity of thieves. The 
 ancients saw in this attribute a symbol of the mysteries with- 
 drawn from the cognizance of the vulgar. The priests con- 
 cealed the gold symbol of the light from the gaze of the 
 profane. 
 
 677. The fable of the Hesperides offers a novel proof of the 
 signification which is given to gold in the mysteries. " The 
 Hesperides, according to Hesiod, were daughters of Night, and 
 according to Cherecrates, of Phorcus and Ceto, divinities of the 
 sea. Juno intermarrying with Jupiter, gave him some apple- 
 trees which bore golden fruits. These trees were placed in the 
 garden of the Hesperides, under the guardianship of a dragon, 
 according to Pisander, or of Typhon and Echidne, according to 
 Pherecydes. This horrible dragon had a hundred heads. The 
 apple trees, that he watched incessantly, had surprising virtue. 
 It was one of these apples that embroiled the three goddesses in 
 discord. It was with the same fruit that Hippomenes softened 
 the fierce Atalanta. Eurystheus commanded Hercules to seek 
 these apples. Hercules besought the nymphs who dwelt near 
 Eridan to inform him where he should find the Hesperides. 
 These nymphs sent him back to Nereus ; Nereus to Prome- 
 theus, who told him what to do. Hercules transported himself 
 into Mauritania, killed the dragon, brought the golden apples 
 to Eurystheus, and this accomplished his twelfth labor." 
 
 678. The golden apples are the fruits of intelligence, which '/ 
 are born of the love of God. In uniting herself to Jupiter, Juno 
 offers them to him. They are kept in the garden of the Hespe- 
 rides, daughters of the marine deities. That is to say, in the 
 sanctuary of the temples, and confided to the initiated, children 
 
 of the waters or of baptism. The dragon, the son of Darkness, 
 of Typhon or the Earth, is the emblem of human passions and 
 vices, which permi^ not the profane to taste of these spiritual 
 fruits. Hercules or the neophyte performs the last of his works 
 in seizing them. He is sent back to the nymphs, to the marine 
 
206 STUDY OF AKT. 
 
 deities, and at length to Prometheus, who initiates him in the 
 mysteries. Prometheus had formed man from the clay of the 
 earth, and animated him with fire snatched from the celestial 
 bodies. Nereus and Prometheus, or fire and water, recall the 
 double baptism of the antique initiations like those of Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 679. The sun, gold and yellow, were the symbols of the 
 human understanding, enlightened or illuminated by divine 
 revelation. It is in this sense that the Prophet Daniel says, 
 " that those who are wise shall be shining as light, and that 
 those who shall influence others to do justly, shall shine eter- 
 nally as the stars. Solomon expresses the same idea, in. saying 
 that the head of the wise is of the purest gold. Jesus Christ 
 announces that the just shall shine as the sun, in the kingdom 
 of his Father. 
 
 680. Gold and yellow were, in Christian symbolism, the em- 
 blems of faith. St. Peter, the stay of the church, and guardian 
 of the holy doctrine, was represented by the illuminators and 
 miniaturists of the middle ages with a golden yellow robe, and 
 the rod or the key in his hand. These attributes are those of 
 Mercury Hermanubis. In China, yellow is equally the symbol 
 of faith. 
 
 681. The'ancients compared to gold that which they judged 
 faultless and exceedingly beautiful. By the age of gold, they 
 understood the age of happiness and virtue ; and by the golden 
 verses, according to Hierocles, verses which contained the 
 purest doctrine. We again meet with this tradition in the 
 golden legends of the saints. 
 
 682. Food of a golden yellow color became emblematic of the 
 love and the wisdom of God, which man appropriates to him- 
 self or eats, to speak symbolically. The divine poet Isaiah 
 says, that he who shall refuse the evil and choose the good, 
 shall eat of butter and honey. Job exclaims, that the wicked 
 shall not see the floods of butter and honey. In the Song of 
 Songs, Solomon addresses his mystic spouse, whose lips distil as 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 207 
 
 the honey- comb. Thus in the Iliad, from the mouth of the sage 
 Nestor, words dropped sweeter than honey. 
 
 :. Virgil calls honey the celestial gift distilled from the 
 dew, and dew was the emblem of initiation. Pliny gives it 
 the epithet, the effusion from heaven, the saliva of the stars. 
 
 684. The symbol of divine revelation, became that of sacred 
 and poetic inspiration. The Mellissa, or bees, were inspired 
 women, who prophesied in the temples of Greece. Popular 
 legends narrate that bees reposed on the lips of Plato, in his 
 cradle ; and that Pindar, when exposed in the woods, in his in- 
 fancy, was nourished with honey. The first Christians, and the 
 disciples of Mithras, gave honey to be tasted by the mystics, and 
 made them wash their hands with honey. Cakes of honey were 
 offered in sacrifice by most nations of antiquity. 
 
 685. The sweetness of this aliment was doubtless one of the 
 motives of its symbolic attribution, but its color was the princi- 
 pal basis. Ovid, wishing to express that wisdom enlightens the 
 understanding, gives to Minerva the epithet of yellow. On the 
 contrary, unwholesome and wild aliments took, by their golden 
 color, an inverse signification. The precursor of the Messiah 
 came to announce a new revelation at the epoch when the 
 ancient was forgotten or misunderstood, and, in the desert, he 
 was fed with locust and wild honey. This exhibits the first 
 example of the rule of oppositions. 
 
 686. In a celestial sense, light, gold, and yellow, evince 
 divine love enlightening the human understanding. In the in- 
 fernal sense, it denotes that odiously proud egotism, which seeks 
 no wisdom but its own, which becomes its own god, its own 
 principle and end. 
 
 687. According to St. Paul, Satan transforms himself into an 
 angel of light. Jesus Christ says : " Beware that the light 
 which is in you be not darkness." In this state of separation 
 from God and isolation, man sullies his soul by an earthly love, 
 which he ought to offer up pure to his Creator. In the sym- 
 
 ^lism of the Bible, Sodom is the figure of that degradation, 
 'oh, at its last boundaries, betrays him into infamous crimes. 
 
208 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 Sulphur represents the same idea, because of its color and com- 
 bustion, which generates a suffocating smoke. 
 
 688. The rain of sulphur, which consumed Sodom, is the 
 strong image of the depraved passions which devour the heart 
 of the impious, and brutalize their intellect. " In the day that 
 Lot went out of Sodom," says Jesus Christ, " a rain of fire and 
 of sulphur fell from heaven, and destroyed all. It will be the 
 same in that day when the Son of man shall appear. Whoso- 
 ever will seek to save his life shall lose it, and whosoever will 
 lose it shall save it." Thus, when human passions shall have 
 degraded religious belief, the divinity will manifest himself 
 anew on the earth. Those who will attach themselves to ter- 
 restrial life, shall lose life eternal the life of the soul and 
 those who renounce worldly existence, shall save their spiritual 
 existence. 
 
 689. The sense assigned to the word sulphur is absolute, 
 and, in the Bible, is without any exception. " The light of the 
 wicked," says Job, " shall be put out, and their fire shall not 
 glimmer ; the light which lightens their houses shall be obscure, 
 and their lamp shall be extinct. God will shower sulphur upon 
 the place where they make their dwelling ; they shall be chased 
 from the light into darkness ; they will be banished from the 
 world." The Psalmist, the Prophets, and the Apocalypse, con- 
 firm the signification of this symbol. 
 
 690. Lastly, in Paganism, sulphur was employed for the 
 purification of the guilty, because it was the symbol of guilt. 
 
 691. By understanding these chief colors, it becomes easy to 
 comprehend the signification of the four ages, represented by 
 the four metals : the Golden Age, the Silver Age, the Brazen 
 Age, and the Iron Age. Gold is the symbol of divine love re- 
 vealed to man. Silver, by its whiteness, designates divine 
 wisdom. Brass, or copper, false gold, denotes degraded love, 
 or religion materialized. Iron, by its sombre gray color, indi- 
 cates wisdom perverted, and truth misunderstood. It is thus 
 the statue described in the book of Daniel is explained. His 
 head was of refined gold, his breast and arms of silver, his belly 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 209 
 
 and thighs of brass, and his feet of clay and iron. The profane 
 era, the age of brass, materializes worship; idolatry arises, ex- 
 tends its roots, and stifles religious truth. The iron age, the 
 age of dissolution, appears the age of human wisdom, which 
 seeks not light but in itself, turns into derision the altered faith, 
 examines creeds only in their degradation, and saps the feet of 
 iron and of clay of the colossus, which falls, and is shattered. 
 
 BED AS A CONSECRATED LANGUAGE. 
 
 692. Sacrifices, in their original institution, were symbols of 
 the love of man for his Creator. The first fruits of harvests 
 and of animals were presented on the altars, emblems of devo- 
 tion and love. 
 
 693. The sacrificial fire in Jadjour-Veda is the symbol of the 
 celestial fire that dwells in the heart. In the Sanscrit, different 
 expressions, which designate fire, have the symbolic significa- 
 tion of the number 3. The name of the divinity Om has the 
 same numerical meaning. So, in the Thibetian language Mo 
 signifies fire and the number 3d. 
 
 694. Thus, the third divine attribute, or the Holy Ghost, the 
 love of God, and worship, have the same symbol : fire, which is 
 translated in the language of colors by red. A tradition preva- 
 lent among all nations, states that fire has created and will des- 
 troy the world ; for the soul, emanating from the love of God, 
 must return into his bosom. One of the Hebrew names of the 
 deity is that of fire. In Indian mythology, Siva is the fire that 
 created the world, and must consume it. And, finally, fire 
 being the symbol of regeneration and purification of the soul, 
 explains the custom of burning the bodies of the dead. 
 
 695. In China, red color is consecrated to religion, and the 
 mourning worn by children is hempen sackcloth of a bright red. 
 Love always had a red color for the symbol of infancy. Cupid 
 is a child, and, in Christian symbolism, celestial love is repre- 
 sented by infant angels. A child was initiated into the great 
 mysteries at Eleusis, and performed a character in the last 
 
210 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 initiation, which was emblematic of death. He was called the 
 child of the sanctuary, and, to this day, the boys of the choir 
 are clothed in red. Love is a stranger to all but innocent and 
 pure hearts. " The kingdom of heaven," said Jesus Christ, " is 
 inherited by those who are like little children." In Pagan anti- 
 quity, red was the symbol of innocence and of virginity. The 
 mystic couches used in the mysteries of Eleusis, bound round 
 with purple fillets, designate the virginity of Proserpina when 
 she arrived at hell. 
 
 696. Xenophon describes a Persian ceremony testifying the 
 tenet of the divine triad, and its triple symbol : white, gold and 
 red. Amidst an immense procession, are three chariots. The 
 first was white, crowned with flowers, v/ith the pole gilt, an 
 offering to the supreme god. The second chariot, of the same 
 color, and similarly decorated, was consecrated to the sun. The 
 horses of the third chariot were caparisoned with scarlet 
 housings, behind which marched men bearing the sacred fire. 
 It would be easy to multiply examples demonstrating that love, 
 fire, and red color, were synonymous in the language of sym- 
 bols. It still remains in the fires annually lighted in the pro- 
 vinces, on the vigil of St. John, in memorialism of the baptism 
 with fire. 
 
 697. The architecture of antique temples presents additional 
 applications of these principles. The name and form given to 
 the pyramids, or columns of fire, used as tombs by the kings of 
 Egypt, are not the effect of fancy or chance. The obelisk, sym- 
 bol of Amon, divine word, was not placed as a vain ornament 
 at the entry of the temples. (s) 
 
 698. In Egypt, red color was consecrated to good genii, and 
 the Greek Jupiter was called Zeus, life, heat, fire ; and, accord- 
 ing to Winckleman, he was clothed in red. And, according to 
 Plutarch, red was consecrated to all divinities. On festival 
 days, their statues were covered with red, and minium was put 
 on their cheeks, (t) 
 
 699. Christianity restored truth to mankind, and re-instated 
 symbolic language in its original purity. In the transfiguration, 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 211 
 
 the countenance of our Lord became resplendent as the sun, and 
 his vesture shone like light. Such, in their highest energy, are 
 the symbols of divine love and wisdom. The angel who rolled 
 away the stone from the sepulchre, re-produced them in an in- 
 ferior order. His face shone like lightning, and his robe was 
 white as snow. Finally, in the last degree, appeared the just, 
 hi robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb. The artists 
 of the middle ages preserved these traditions, and gave to 
 Christ, after the resurrection, white or red costume. 
 
 700. Red being established as a symbol of the divinity, and 
 consecrated to his worship, we proceed to its application in the 
 costume of pontiffs and kings. 
 
 701. Purple and scarlet colored the ephod and breast-plate 
 of Aaron. The general signification of these two colors indi- 
 cates the love of God. Their different gradations of color ma- 
 nifest the varieties of this love. 
 
 702. Purple and hyacinth are two gradations of the same 
 color, which may be easily confounded, but which have two 
 different significations. In purple, red predominates, and in the 
 hyacinth, blue predominates. In the symbolism of compound 
 colors, the predominating hue gives the general signification, 
 and the subordinate hue the modified meaning. Consequently, 
 purple indicates the love of truth, and hyacinth, the truth of 
 love. 
 
 703. At Hieropolis, none but the sovereign pontiff had the 
 right to wear a purple robe. The priests were clothed in white. 
 In the mysteries of Eleusis, the priests wore long robes of 
 purple. The purple mantle of kings was the emblem of the 
 power of God, or right divine. 
 
 704. According to Josephus, the costume of the kings of 
 Egypt was of a purple color. It was the same among the an- 
 cient Greeks ; and the appropriation of this color to royalty was 
 universal among the people of antiquity. 
 
 705. The priests and priestesses of Eleusis pronounced their 
 imprecations against Alcibiades, upstanding, and turning to the 
 
212 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 west, and shaking their purple robes. In sacrificing to the 
 Eumenides, it was obligatory to wear robes of this color. 
 Wrought wool, tinted purple, was likewise used in sacrifices 
 preparatory to the mysteries. The couches of the initiated, 
 during the celebration of the festival of Ceres, were bound 
 round by narrow fillets of the same color. Homer gives to the 
 dead, the epithet purpurea. Artimedorus says, that purple 
 color is assigned to death, and that " Those who live piously, 
 ought, in Elysium, to live in fields enameled with purple roses." 
 The ancients strewed on the tombs flowers of purple and saffron. 
 All these customs were allegorical and related to the future 
 life ; for the initiated were considered as having passed through 
 the state of death, whence arose the conformity of several cere- 
 monies of initiation with those which were used in sepulchres 
 and funereal sacrifices. 
 
 OF BLUE AS A CONSECRATED LANGUAGE. 
 
 706. In the Bible the air is the symbol of the Holy Spirit 
 of the Divine truth which enlightens mankind. The miracle 
 on the day of Pentecost, when the Apostles " were all filled 
 with the Holy Ghost, describes it as a mighty rushing wind, 
 with cloven tongues like as of fire." 
 
 707. The Holy Ghost is God in us as love and truth. These 
 two attributes re-united had the dove for a symbol. When 
 Jesus was baptized, John saw the Spirit of God de- 
 scending on him as a dove. The symbol of the Spirit is Air, 
 even so is its color, azure or celestial blue. In Christian 
 theology, the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son. 
 God is love, Christ is truth. Their symbols are red and azure, 
 the Holy Ghost proceeding from these two was represented by 
 red and blue. 
 
 708. Antiquity typified this dogma by the ethereal fire. In 
 Hindoostan is found the god of fire, Agni, with two faces, 
 symbols of the fire terrestrial and the fire celestial. He rides on 
 a ram of azure color, with red horns. We find Jupiter Ammon 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 213 
 
 with similar attributes, represented of a blue color with ram's 
 horns. 
 
 709. In oriental languages the word azur signifies fire, and in 
 blazonry it designates blue color. Jupiter Axur explains this 
 double signification. According to the Greeks, says St. Clement, 
 the ethereal fire is their god Zeus. He is made the supreme 
 god because of his igneous nature. The ethereal fire, or red 
 and blue reunited, typify the identification of love and wisdom 
 in the father of gods and men. This symbol is represented and 
 developed on Christian monuments by the violet color. 
 
 710. In cosmogonies, divine wisdom creates the world. God, 
 the creator, is always colored blue. Vischnou, according to 
 the sacred books of Hindoostan, was born of a blue color. 
 
 711. In Egypt, the supreme god, Cneph, was painted blue. 
 In Greece, blue is the color of Jupiter. In China, Heaven is 
 the supreme god, and in Christian symbolism, the azured vault 
 is the mantle which veils divinity. 
 
 712. Identical symbols reappear in Egypt. Amon is the 
 divine word, the new sun, the sun of spring. He enters the 
 golden circle of the year by appearing in the sign Aries. Victor 
 over the darkness of the inferior hemisphere, he expands his 
 heat and light upon the earth. His image according to Eusebius, 
 was that of a man sitting, of an azure color, with a ram's head. 
 He is thus represented on Egyptian paintings. 
 
 713. Symbolism distinguishes three shades of blue : one, 
 which emanates from red, another from white, and a third allied 
 to black. The blue emanated from red, represents the ethereal 
 fire, and signifies the celestial love of truth. In the mysteries, 
 it relates to the baptism by fire. Blue emanated from white, 
 indicates the truth of faith. It relates to the living waters of 
 the Bible, or to the baptism of the spirit. The blue allied to 
 black conducts us back to cosmogony, to the spirit of God 
 moving on chaos, and relates to natural baptism. 
 
 714. These three aspects of the same color correspond to the 
 three principal degrees of ancient initiation, and to the triple 
 baptism of Christianity. St, Jonn said : " I baptize with water, 
 
214: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 but He who cometh after me is mightier than I : He will bap- 
 tize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire." In painting, these 
 three degrees are particularized by red, blue, and green. 
 Green, black, and deep blue, indicate the world born from the 
 depth of the primitive waters, and the first degree of initiation. 
 Azure represents regeneration, or the spiritual form of man, 
 and red the sanctification. 
 
 715. When Vischnou, the supreme god of the Indians, re- 
 presents the last degree of regeneration, he is of a deep blue, 
 and verditer color. Krischna, as the incarnation of truth di- 
 vine, is colored azure ; but abased to humanity, he is subjected 
 to the temptations of evil, and Indian symbolism consecrates 
 deep blue and black to him. 
 
 716. Plutarch states Osiris to be of a black color, because 
 water blackens substances which it saturates. From this, the 
 primitive idea of God agitating chaos is evident. The statue 
 of Saturn, in his temple, was of black stone. His priests were 
 Ethiopians, Abyssinians, or from other black nations. They 
 wore blue vestments and rings of iron. When the king entered 
 this temple, his suite wore blue or black. 
 
 717. The opposition of these two colors represents the anta- 
 gonism of life and death in the spiritual and material states, 
 manifested in the age of which Saturn is the symbol. 
 
 718. Azure, in its absolute signification, represents truth 
 divine. It was the symbol of divine eternity, and of human 
 immortality, and, by natural consequence, became a mortuary 
 color. In China, blue is appropriated to the dead, and red to 
 the living. Red represents fire and vivifying heat. Blue is 
 the symbol of the soul after death. In Christian symbolism, 
 azure is similar. In a manuscript of the tenth century, Jesus, 
 represented in the tomb, is bound by blue fillets ; his coun- 
 tenance is blue, the sepulchre is red. There are two attending 
 angels ; the one on the right has a blue aureole and violet 
 mantle, symbols of the passion, and of the death of Christ. The 
 angel on the left has a purple, mantle, symbol of the triumph 
 of love and of revelation. After the death of Christ, the Virgin 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 215 
 
 is often represented in blue vestures. The priest also wears 
 blue during the celebration of the sacred mysteries of Lent, and, 
 at the approach of the holy week, the images of Christ are 
 veiled in blue. In these ceremonies, we see the first degree of 
 materialization : the symbol of divine eternity and of human 
 immortality becomes the emblem of carnal death. 
 
 719. Throughout the Levant, blue is considered a mortuary 
 color. Nothing but blue is worn as mourning. No one dares 
 to appear before royalty in this sad livery. In these customs, 
 the symbol is completely materialized. 
 
 720. In China, green typifies the East, the spring, a tree, 
 and charity. In Christianity, green is the symbol of regenera- 
 tion in action, that is, charity. 
 
 721. Christian painters of the middle ages, painted the cross 
 of a green color, symbol of regeneration, of charity, of hope. 
 Sometimes, it was bordered with a red band. The friend of 
 Christ, the Christian initiator, the sacred scribe, St. John, is 
 almost always robed in green. Tradition consecrates this color 
 to the Virgin and the infant Jesus, symbolizing the first degree 
 of regeneration. The color of the vestments of the Messiah, at 
 different epochs of his life, form a sacred drama, whence we 
 may understand the symbolism of colors. 
 
 722. Among the Arabs, green had the same signification. 
 It became the symbol of initiation to the knowledge of the 
 supreme God revealed in the Koran. 
 
 723. Green, like other colors, had a nefarious signification. 
 In opposition, it signified moral degradation and folly. Sweden- 
 borg gives green eyes to fools in hell. A window in Chartres 
 cathedral represents the temptation of Christ, and Satan with 
 green eyes and skin. In symbolism, the eye signifies the un- 
 derstanding, intellectual light ; and man can turn it towards good 
 or towards evil. Satan and Minerva, Folly and Wisdom, were 
 represented with green eyes. On the symbolism of green color, 
 India affords the most ancient traditions. 
 
 724. Rose color derives its signification from red and white : 
 
216 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 red is the symbol of divine love, and white of divine wisdom. 
 The earliest traditions of Christianity give the same significa- 
 tion to the rose that it had in antiquity. In the seventh century, 
 according to Bede, the tomb of Jesus Christ was painted of an 
 intermingled color, white and red. The white rose became the 
 emblem of monastic wisdom, and of renunciation of the world. 
 In the arms of religious societies, a crown is placed, composed 
 of branches of the white rose, with its leaves, thorns, and flowers, 
 denoting the chastity which is preserved amidst the thorns and 
 mortifications of life. A picture of the school of Corregio is im- 
 pressed with this antique symbol. St. Francis of Assisi pre- 
 sents to Jesus red and white roses, produced in January. Janus 
 presides over January, and the heavenly door-keeper opens the 
 first degree of the mysteries. In the month of January, the sun 
 commences his victorious career, and overcomes cold and dark- 
 ness, emblems of evil and error. The same symbolic idea ap- 
 pears in Rose-Sunday, when the Pope blesses a golden rose, 
 which is carried in procession through Rome, " in order," say 
 the mystics, t( to represent the joy of day, which shines like a 
 rose amidst the thorns of Lent." 
 
 725. Scarlet was composed of red and white with a tint of 
 yellow. It was a symbol of spiritual love ; of the love of the 
 divine word. The vestments of Aaron, and the Hebrew priests, 
 for the service of the sanctuary, were purple, scarlet, and hya- 
 cinth. In all the ornaments of the priest, purple was the pre- 
 dominant color, and he alone was permitted to wear the hyacinth 
 tunic. 
 
 726. Violet designates the truth of love, and the love of 
 truth. It will also comprise the sense of hyacinth, the union of 
 goodness and truth, of love and of wisdom. On symbolic 
 medieval monuments, Jesus Christ wears a violet robe during 
 the passion : this color representing the complete identification 
 of the Father and the Son. Jesus, as a type of humanity, wears 
 a red robe and a blue mantle. Reunited with the deity, he is. 
 
SYMBOLIC COLORS. 217 
 
 invested with a violet robe. After his glorification, he appears 
 in red and white, symbols of Jehovah. To the Holy Ghost, the 
 symbol of violet is never given. 
 
 I'll. Violet was assigned to martyrs, because, in imitation of 
 their master, they bore the ignominy of the cross. This color 
 was adopted as mourning by people of rank, flattery decreeing 
 them the martyr's palm. Kings and cardinals wear violet as 
 mourning. On medieval illuminations, it is sometimes seen as 
 a pall. In Egyptian tombs, amulets are found of this color. 
 
 728. Orange, or saffron, composed of yellow and red, had, 
 in the highest antiquity, the signification of the revelation of 
 divine love. The Messiah is named the East. The Grecian 
 aurora had a saffron-colored veil. In Christianity, saffron and 
 orange color were the symbols of God filling the heart, and en- 
 lightening the spirit of the faithful. 
 
 729. In Christian usage, the mixture of white, black and 
 grey was the emblem of terrestrial death, and spiritual immor- 
 tality. In the religious paintings of the middle ages, grey re- 
 presents the resurrection from the dead. 
 
 730. This limited abstract of De Portal's work on symbolic 
 colors, is sufficient to show their relation to art, and the signi- 
 fication given to each color, accounts for the imperfect de- 
 velopment of the art of painting among the nations of anti- 
 quity. 
 
 10 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 
 
 731. IN Egyptian mythology, the infinite height and depth 
 of the divine mind are represented by a hawk, because that 
 bird, in her flight, soars perpendicularly up, and drops perpen- 
 dicularly down. The Egyptians believed in the immortality of 
 the soul. The separate spirit was denoted in hieroglyphics by 
 a hawk having a human head. 
 
 732. The Egyptian triad was represented by a globe, a ser- 
 pent and a wing. The globe is an emblem of God, for his cen- 
 tre is everywhere, and his circumference immeasurable. The 
 serpent designates eternity, and likewise wisdom. The wing is 
 the symbol of air, or the spirit. On a monument of Thebes, 
 engraved and -colored in the description of Egypt (Tom. II., 
 PL 34, French government work,) the globe is red, the two 
 serpents are golden, and the wings are red and azured. The 
 interval between the two serpents is filled by a green tint. 
 The red is the symbol of love divine. The gold or yellow, in- 
 dicates the Word revelation ; the azure, the air, divine breath. 
 
 733. The IBIS was worshiped by the ancient Egyptians. 
 They placed it in the sanctuary of their temples ; it was allowed 
 to stray freely and unharmed about their cities ; they embalmed 
 it with care equal to that bestowed on their dearest relatives ; 
 they attributed to it a virgin purity, and an inviolable attach- 
 ment to their country, of which it was an emblem. In fine, 
 they felt assured, that the gods assumed the shape of the ibis 
 whenever they found it necessary to visit the earth. 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 219 
 
 734. Herodotus describes the most common species of this 
 bird as having the head and neck bare, the plumage, with some 
 exceptions, white. By others, it is represented as entirely 
 black, with feet like the crane, and crooked beak. The paint- 
 ings at Herculaneum, and the Palestrine Mosaic, both present 
 a number of figures of the ibis, all agreeing in the essential 
 characteristics assigned by the ancients ; to which may be added 
 a medal in bronze, and another in silver of the Emperor Had- 
 rian. According to Bruce, this bird is still found upon the 
 banks of the Nile. 
 
 735. The SCARABEUS was held in great veneration by the 
 Egyptians. Of this insect there were three varieties. The 
 one most celebrated and the only one found represented on 
 ancient monuments, is the Scarabeus Sacri of the naturalists. 
 This is perceived in the Isiac table, and is frequent among hie- 
 roglyphics : it was the symbol of immortality. With the head 
 of a ram or a hawk it was an emblem of the sun. Another 
 species was consecrated to Isis, and indicated the moon, its two 
 horns resembling the crescent of that planet. It was customary 
 with the Egyptians to give the shape of the scarabeus to their 
 amulets or rings. 
 
 736. The CROCODILE is found represented on ancient coins, 
 and according to M. Zoega should always be considered as em- 
 blematical of the Nile. It is also found on a fine mosaic dis- 
 covered at Palestina ; upon the base of the statue of the Nile 
 in Museo Pio Clementine, and upon many other antique monu- 
 ments. On works not wrought in Egypt, the crocodile is 
 always to be understood as the symbol or emblem of that coun- 
 try. A crocodile chained to a palm tree represents the subju- 
 gation of Egypt. The crocodile was worshiped in many 
 Egyptian cities ; particularly at Thebes, and at Arsinoe, hence 
 its name, Crocodilopolis. 
 
 737. The PHCENIX, the bird so famous in antiquity, is by 
 moderns considered fabulous. The ancients speak of this bird 
 as unique, and their artists represent it as the size of an eagle, 
 its head finely crested with a beautiful plumage, its neck covered 
 
220 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 with feathers of a golden color, and the rest of it purple, with 
 the exception of the tail which is white, and eyes extremely 
 sparkling like stars. The tradition is, that it lives in the wil- 
 derness, and attains the age of five or six hundred years, and 
 when thus advanced in age, builds itself a pile of sweet wood 
 and aromatic gums, and firing it by the wafting of its wings, 
 thus destroys itself. From its ashes arises a worm, which in 
 time, grows up to be a phoenix. 
 
 738. In the sixth book of the annals of Tacitus, it is stated, 
 that in the year 787 of Rome, the phoenix revisited Egypt, 
 which created much speculation among the learned. The ac- 
 counts of its longevity vary from five hundred to one thousand 
 five hundred years. It was considered as sacred to the sun. 
 
 739. Tradition has assigned the several eras at which the 
 phoenix appeared. The first it informs us was in the reign of 
 Sesostris ; the second in that of Amasis ; and the third at that 
 period when Ptolemy (the third of th*. Macedonian race) was 
 seated on the throne of Egypt. "When ta these circumstances 
 are added the brilliant appearance of the phoenix, and the tale 
 that it makes frequent excursions with a load on its back, and 
 that when, by having made the experiment, through a long 
 tract of air, gaining sufficient confidence in its own vigor, it flies 
 with the body of its progenitor to the altar of the sun, in order 
 that it may there be consumed, some key will be afforded to the 
 frequent use made by artists of this curious subject, as also to 
 the idea advanced by antiquarians, that the sages of Egypt en- 
 veloped under this allegory the philosophy of the comets. 
 
 740. When an Egyptian monarch is represented holding a 
 phoenix in his hand, it is emblematic of his long absence from 
 Egypt in a foreign land. 
 
 741. A REED is the Egyptian emblem of royalty 
 
 742. The FLAGELLUM and CROOK of Orisiris, the emblems 
 of majesty and dominion. 
 
 743. The EYE of Osiris was one of the most important em- 
 blems. It was placed on boats, on coffins, and other conspicu- 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 221 
 
 ous positions, as if to indicate the all-seeing presence of the 
 divinity. 
 
 744. The LION was consecrated to Cybele, and we find it 
 sculptured upon many monuments erected to that mysterious 
 deity. Sometimes she is borne upon a lion ; at others, they 
 draw her car, and occasionally are found standing by the throne 
 on which she is seated. The poets are profuse in their admira- 
 tion of the magnanimity and clemency of this beast, which has 
 by distinction acquired the title of royal; hence many princes 
 have been represented symbolically by the figure of a lion. In 
 the sacred writings of the Hebrews, as well as in the mystic 
 language of the ancient oracles, this kind of representation is 
 maintained, since the lion has always been considered the em- 
 blem of sovereign power and sway. 
 
 745. The coins and medals of the Roman emperors and 
 others more ancient, abound with representations of this animal ; 
 and occasionally we find it used as a symbol of consecration or 
 of eternity with the legend of Memoriae JEternae. Several 
 princes both ancient and modern, have in artistic representa- 
 tions of themselves, required the artist to introduce the skin of 
 the lion's head drawn over their own helmets, in imitation of 
 some of the figures of Hercules. 
 
 746. There remain to us many beautifully executed antique 
 lions. Among the finest is that placed before the Barberini 
 Palace ; another very fine specimen is to be found in the Villa 
 Medicis ; a third at Dresden. The two lions of Venice, placed 
 at the entry of the Arsenal, are particularly celebrated. These 
 were brought from Athens in the year 1687. 
 
 747. The DRAGON was a fabulous animal or reptile, sup- 
 posed to be a species of winged serpent, that was held in divine 
 estimation by some of the earliest nations of antiquity, and used 
 by the Romans for the ensign of a company, as the eagle was 
 of a regiment. The belief in this fabulous reptile was very 
 general among the ancients, and their representations and de- 
 scriptions are abundantly alarming. JElian gives a crest and 
 beard to the male dragon ; and others describe it as having a 
 
222 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 large mouth and throat, teeth like a wild boar, and a long body 
 covered with scales. Pliny relates that the dragons of Ethiopia 
 traversed the seas in shoals, of four or five each, holding their 
 heads above the surface of the waves. 
 
 748. These dreadful animals, as they were believed to be, 
 were objects of worship from fear. In Epirus they kept sev- 
 eral dragons that were attended by a virgin, and from his com- 
 placency or antipathy, and his manner of taking his food, they 
 judged whether they should have a fruitful or a sterile season. 
 ^Elian relates abundant anecdotes of the credulity of the people 
 of those ages concerning dragons, flying serpents, and such like 
 fabulous monsters. 
 
 749. Representations of dragons are often found on ancient 
 monuments. They are among the attributes of JEsculapius, 
 and of Hygeia ; they are attached to the cars of Ceres and of 
 Media, they were the guardians of the Hesperian apples. In 
 the fabulous histories of the chivalresque ages, the dragon is 
 also mentioned, particularly the one that was said to have been 
 combatted by the patron saint of England, St. George. 
 
 750. It was the custom among the Romans for an officer 
 called the draconarius to carry the dragon as an ensign to every 
 cohort. On Trajan's column it appears as a Dacian ensign. 
 The dragon or serpent represented on a shield, which was 
 found on a column upon the tomb of Epaminondas, indicated 
 that he was descended from the Spartans ; that is, from those 
 who sprung up from the dragons' teeth sown by Cadmus. The 
 dragon upon the shield of Menelaus, in a picture of Polygnotus 
 at Delphi, designated the serpent, which during the sacrifice at 
 Aulis, came out from under the altar. 
 
 751. The great Chinese dragon so conspicuous in every pub- 
 lic and private edifice, was the symbolical serpent of ancient 
 mythology under a more fanciful and poetical form. It differs 
 from the dragon of antiquity by having legs with feet armed 
 with claws like those of birds. It was the general banner of 
 the empire, and indicated every thing that was sacred in it. It 
 was not only the stamp and symbol of royalty, but is sculptured 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 
 
 in all the temples, blazoned on the furniture of the houses, and 
 interwoven with the vestments of the chief nobility. The em- 
 peror bears a dragon on his armorial device, and the same 
 figure is engraved on his sceptre and diadem, as well as on all 
 the vases in the imperial palace. The superstition of Japan 
 was in every respect similar to that of China. The dragon was 
 held in equal veneration in both countries. 
 
 752. The figures of the ancient deities of Pagan mythology, 
 have always some distinctive attribute as emblematic of their 
 respective offices and qualities. 
 
 753. Saturn had for attributes, a serpent with his tail in his 
 mouth, expressive of eternity, and a scythe of which he was the 
 reputed inventor; and as being the destroyer of all things. 
 Jupiter had an eagle and thunderbolts. Neptune a trident a 
 sceptre with three points and marine productions. Pluto a 
 sceptre, sometimes with two points, then called a bident, and a 
 crown of iron. Mars, a spear. Mercury, a caduceus. Apollo, 
 a laurel and bow. Vulcan, a sledge-hammer. Cybele and 
 Rhea, a crown of turrets. Juno, a crown and peacock. Am- 
 phitrite, a shell. Minerva, the aegis. Venus is known by the 
 presence of Cupid, by a mirror, and when as Victrix, with the 
 apple adjudged by Paris. Hercules is represented with a club, 
 and also a lion's skin. Mornus, with a mask. The Fates, or 
 Destinies, with a distaff. Justice, with a balance and a pair of 
 scales. Liberty, with a cap on the summit of a lance. For- 
 tune, with a rudder. Clemency and Peace both bear an olive- 
 branch. These attributes, if rightly given, designate the char- 
 acter represented. If they are multiplied and misapplied, the 
 work is wanting in truth, an indispensable requisite of a good 
 composition. 
 
 754. The PALM BRANCH is found engraved upon a great 
 number of medallions and other monuments of art. It is some- 
 times the symbol of victory, because on triumphal days the con- i\ 
 queror, besides his crown, bore also a palm branch. From its 
 native strength it was considered an emblem of the stability of 
 empire, and also expressed abundance and felicity. It is placed 
 
224 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 in the hands of Jupiter, of Juno, of Hercules, of Mars, of Venus, 
 of Mercury, and above all, of Minerva. The Romans gave it 
 to personifications of Liberty, Fortune and Peace, as well as to 
 the representations of their Emperors. 
 
 755. Jupiter was crowned with laurel ; Neptune with marine 
 plants ; Minerva with olive branches ; Venus with roses ; Sa- 
 turn with fresh figs, vine branches and grapes; Castor and 
 Pollux with reeds. At definite periods every year, the Steph- 
 anores, or crown-bearers, in the presence of the people, placed 
 these crowns upon the pictures and statues that filled the 
 heathen temples. 
 
 756. The EGG has from time immemorial been the symbol 
 of the being who created all things, and hath all things within 
 himself. It is found on all the statues of Mithras, upon his 
 altars and many ancient votive hands of bronze. Montfaucon 
 has given the representation of a statue of Isis, between the 
 horns of which is placed an egg. The Egyptians held it in 
 profound veneration, and in conjunction with the serpent, con- 
 sidered it as representing the mystery of creation, or the mun- 
 dane globe, or, time and the serpent of eternity. On several 
 of the engraved gems published by Stosch, are sculptured two 
 serpents, raised upon their tails, with the mystic egg between 
 them. From the Egyptians the egg crept into the architectural 
 sculpture of Greece, and forms one of their finest ornaments. 
 
 757. It was a prevailing custom of the ancients to consecrate 
 or dedicate various parts of the human body. Such votive 
 members are found in all the collections of antiquities. There 
 are several in the Elgin Gallery and in the British Museum. 
 Montfaucon describes two such ears upon which he found 
 remains of gilding. They were, perhaps, dedicated or present- 
 ed to the temple of some deity on the recovery of deafness. 
 
 758. The ancients attributed the seats of various virtues to 
 different parts of the human body. The forehead and face were 
 assigned to modesty, or pudicity ; the right hand to good faith ; 
 the knees to compassion ; the ear to memory. It was custo- 
 mary with them, as a formulary, to touch the ear to avoid 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 225 
 
 any expected ill, or to reveal a fact to liis memory. It was 
 for this that they touched the tip of the ear of those who 
 were called to bear witness. It was also a mark of tenderness 
 from children to their parents, lovers to their mistresses, to kiss 
 and touch their ears. There are numerous passages in ancient 
 writers, and sculptures on precious stones, in corroboration of 
 the custom. Spon has figured two onyxes, of which one repre- 
 sents a hand holding an ear, inscribed with the Greek word, 
 remember ; and the other, a similar representation with a Greek 
 inscription, intimating, " Remember thy good fortune." 
 
 759. The hand, among the ancients, was a symbol of strength. 
 It was also made a votive offering. The authors of the anti- 
 quities of Herculaneum have published a votive hand, found 
 in 1746, among the ruins of Resina. Its antiquity is considered 
 unquestionable, and of the time of Titus. It is a good hand 
 with two of the fingers closed. Upon some antique hands, in- 
 scriptions are found relative to their dedication. One described 
 by Montfaucon, is inscribed, " Cecropius voti compos votum 
 solvit" 
 
 760. We find in pictures certain attributes or emblems w T hich 
 are of general application, others are appropriate to particular 
 saints. 
 
 761. The GLORY, NIMBUS, or Aureole, the Christian attri- 
 bute of sanctity, and used generally to distinguish all holy per- 
 sonages, is of pagan origin. It expressed the luminous nebula, 
 supposed to emanate from, and surround the Divine Essence, 
 which stood a shade in the midst of its own brightness. 
 
 762. Considered in the East, as the attribute of power only, 
 whether good or evil, we find wherever early art was developed 
 under Byzantine influences, the nimbus thus applied. It was 
 for a long time avoided in the Christian representations, as 
 being appropriated by false gods or heathen pride. 
 
 763. The earliest and most universal of the Christian em- 
 blems, was the FISH, party as the symbol of water and the rite 
 of baptism, and also because the seven Greek letters which 
 express the word Fish, form the anagram of the name of Jesus 
 
 10* 
 
226 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 Christ. In this sense, we find the fish as a general symbol of 
 the Christian faith upon the sarcophagi of the early Christians ; 
 on the tombs of the martyrs in the catacombs ; on rings, coin's, 
 lamps, and other utensils ; and as an ornament in early Chris- 
 tian architecture. Among the pagans, a dolphin had a sacred 
 significance. 
 
 764. The passage in the Gospel, " Follow me, and I will 
 make you fishers of men," is supposed to have originated the 
 use of this symbol, and I may observe here, that the fish 
 placed in the hands of St. Peter has probably a double or 
 treble signification; alluding to his former occupation as a 
 fisherman, his conversion to Christianity, and his vocation as 
 a Christian apostle, *. e., a fisher of men, in the sense used by 
 Christ ; and in the same sense we find it given as an attribute 
 to the bishops, who were famous for converting and baptizing. 
 
 765. About the tenth century the Fish disappeared, and the 
 CROSS, symbol of our redemption, since the Apostolic times, 
 became the sole and universal emblem of the Christian faith. 
 The cross placed in the hand of a saint, is usually the Latin 
 cross, the form ascribed to the cross on which our Savior suf- 
 fered: crosses are used as emblems or ornaments, but still 
 having the same signification ; as the Greek cross, in which the 
 arms are all of the same length; the transverse cross, on which 
 St. Andrew is supposed to have suffered in this form. The 
 Egyptian cross is sometimes placed in the hands of St. Philip 
 the apostle, and it was also the form of the crutch of St. 
 Anthony and embroidered on his cape or robe; hence it is 
 called St. Anthony's cross. There is also the Maltese cross, 
 and various ornamental crosses. The double cross on the top 
 of a staff instead of the crozier, is borne by the Pope only ; the 
 staff with a single cross, by the Greek bishops. 
 
 766. At first the cross was a sign only when formed of gold 
 or silver, the five wounds of Christ were signified by a ruby 
 or carbuncle at each extremity, and one in the centre. It was 
 not till the sixth century that the cross became a CRUCIFIX, no 
 longer an emblem but an image. 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 227 
 
 767. Constantino is generally supposed to have been the first 
 who ordered the cross to be used as the sign or emblem under 
 which he would fight and conquer, in remembrance of a 
 miraculous appearance of a cross in the heavens. It was, how- 
 ever, used emblematically before the Christian era. Upon a 
 multitude of medals and ancient monuments are to be found 
 crosses placed in the hands of statues of victory and of figures 
 of emperors. It was also placed upon a globe, which, ever 
 since the days of Augustus, has become the sign of the empire 
 of the world and the image of victory. The shields, the 
 cuirasses, the helmets, the imperial cap, were all thus decorated. 
 The cross has also been stamped upon the reverses of money. 
 The cross is now the universal Christian emblem, being used 
 upon the arms and banners of the soldier, the vestments of the 
 priest, and in armorial bearings. The forms of churches, and 
 often the patterns of their pavements are adapted to the repre- 
 sentation of the cross ; which is also sculptured upon and 
 separately elevated upon tombs and sepulchres. Sculptured 
 crosses of various descriptions, elevated upon handsome pedes- 
 tals, were formerly erected in cemeteries and market-places to 
 designate peculiar events, like the queen's crosses at North- 
 ampton, and Waltham. (w) 
 
 768. In the time of the crusades, or wars for the recovery 
 of the Holy Land from the Turks, the cross was the emblem, 
 and gave the name to the crusaders, who took up the cross and 
 swore to defend its faith against infidels. From this period, 
 the cross entered into the art of heraldry, where it still remains 
 and maintains a distinguished place among the ancient families 
 of Europe. It is also raised as an emblem of Christianity on 
 most churches and ecclesiastical buildings of the Catholic 
 religion. 
 
 769. For the forms of churches two different ones are 
 adopted, the Greek and the Latin. The Greek cross has its 
 arms at right angles, and all of equal length, and the Latin has 
 one of its limbs much longer than the other three. 
 
 770. The LAMB in Christian art is the peculiar symbol of the 
 
228 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 Redeemer as the sacrifice without blemish ; in this sense it is 
 given as an attribute to John the Baptist. The lamb is also 
 the general emblem of innocence, meekness, modesty ; in this 
 sense it is given to St. Agnes. 
 
 771. The PELICAN tearing open her breast to feed her 
 young with her own blood, was an early symbol of our re- 
 demption through Christ. One or both of these emblems are 
 frequently found in ancient crosses and crucifixes ; the lamb at 
 the foot, the pelican at the top of the cross. 
 
 772. In Christian art the DRAGON is the emblem of sin in 
 general, and of the sin of idolatry in particular. The dragon 
 slain or vanquished by the power of the cross, is the perpetually 
 recurring myth, which varied in a thousand ways, we find 
 running through all the old Christian legends, and not subject 
 to misapprehension in the earliest times ; but as the cloud of 
 ignorance darkened and deepened, the symbol was translated 
 into a fact. It has been suggested that the dragon which is to 
 us a phantom and an allegory, which in the middle ages was 
 the demon adversary of all truth and goodness, might have 
 been, as regards form, originally a fact ; for wherever we have 
 dragon legends, whether the scene be laid in Asia, Africa, or 
 Europe, the imputed circumstances and the form are little 
 varied, (v) 
 
 773. The dragon of Holy Writ, is the same as the serpent, 
 i. e., personified sin, the spiritual enemy of mankind. The scrip- 
 tural phrase of the "jaws of hell," is literally rendered in the 
 ancient works of art, by the huge jaws of a dragon wide open, 
 and emitting flames into which the souls of sinners are tumbled 
 headlong. In pictures sin is also typified by a serpent or 
 snake. 
 
 774. The LION was an ancient symbol of the Redeemer, 
 " the lion of the tribe of Judah :" also of the resurrection 
 of the Redeemer ; because according to an Oriental fable, the 
 lion's cub was born dead, and in three days, its sire licked it 
 into life. 
 
 775. The lion also testifies solitude the wilderness ; and in 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 229 
 
 this sense is placed near St. Jerome and other saints who did 
 penance, or lived as hermits in the desert. The lion, as the 
 type of fortitude and resolution, was placed at the feet of those 
 martyrs who had suffered with singular courage. 
 
 776. When other wild beasts, as wolves and bears, are placed 
 at the feet of a saint attired as bishop or abbot, it signifies that 
 he cleared waste land, cut down forests, and substituted 
 Christian culture and civilization for paganism, and the lawless 
 hunter's life. 
 
 777. The HART or HIND was also an emblem of double 
 signification. It was a type of solitude and purity of life, and 
 was also a type of piety and religious aspiration, adopted from 
 the forty-second psalm, " Like as the hart panteth after the 
 water-brooks, so panteth my soul for thee, O God !" 
 
 778. When the original meaning of the lion, the hart, and 
 other emblems was no longer present to the popular mind, 
 legends were invented to account for them, and that which had 
 been a symbol became an incident, or an historical attribute. 
 
 779. The PEACOCK, the bird of Juno, was an ancient Pagan 
 symbol, signifying the apotheosis of an empress, as we find from 
 many of the old Roman coins and medals. The early Chris- 
 tians, accustomed to this interpretation, adopted it as a general 
 emblem of the mortal exchanged for the immortal existence, 
 and, with this signification, we find the peacock with outspread 
 train on the walls and ceilings of catacombs, the tombs of the 
 martyrs, and many of the sarcophagi down to the fourth and 
 fifth centuries. It is only in modern times that the peacock has 
 become the emblem of worldly pride. 
 
 780. The CROWN, as introduced in Christian art, is either an 
 emblem or an attribute. From all antiquity, it has been the 
 emblem of victory, and of recompense due to superior power or 
 virtue. In this sense, the word and the image are used in 
 Scripture in many passages. For example : " Henceforth, there 
 is laid up for me a crown of glory." And in this sense, as the 
 recompense of those who had fought the good fight to the end 
 and conquered, the crown became the special symbol of the 
 
230 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 glory of martyrdom. In general, only the female martyrs wear 
 the symbolical crown of glory ; martyrs of the other sex hold 
 the crown in their hands, or it is borne by an angel. Hence, 
 we may presume that the crown, which, among the Jews, was 
 the especial ornament of a bride, signified the bride or spouse 
 of Christ : one dedicated to Tirginity for his sake ; and, in this 
 sense, down to the present time, the crown is placed on the 
 head of a man at the moment of consecration. Therefore, in 
 the old pictures of female martyrs, we may interpret the crown 
 in this double sense, as signifying at once the bride and the 
 martyr. But it is necessary also to distinguish between the 
 symbol and the attribute. Thus, when St. Cecilia and St. Bar- 
 bara wear the crown, it is the symbol of their glorious martyr- 
 dom ; when St. Catharine and St. Ursula wear the crown, it is 
 at once the symbol of martyrdom and the attribute of their 
 royal rank as princesses. 
 
 781. The crown is also a symbol of sovereignty. When it is 
 placed on the head of the Virgin, it is as the Queen of Heaven, 
 and also as the spouse of Scripture allegory. The crown is 
 also an attribute, and, frequently, when worn by a saint, or 
 placed at his feet, signifies that he was royal or of princely 
 birth. 
 
 782. The SWORD is also either a symbol or an attribute. 
 As a symbol, it signifies generally a violent death or martyr- 
 dom ; and, in this sense, is given to many saints who did not die 
 by the sword. As an attribute, it signifies the particular death 
 suffered, and that the martyr, in whose hand or at whose feet it 
 is placed, was beheaded ; in this sense, it is given to St. Paul, 
 St. Catharine and many others. It is given also to the warrior 
 martyrs, as the attribute of their military profession. Other 
 general symbols of martyrdom are the axe, the lance, and the 
 club. 
 
 783. The PALM, the ancient classical symbol of victory and 
 triumph, was rarely assumed by the Christians as the universal 
 symbol of martyrdom, and, for this adaptation of a Pagan or- 
 nament, they found warrant in Scripture : " And after this I 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 231 
 
 beheld, and lo ! a great multitude stood before the throne, clothed 
 with white robes and white palms in their hands." * * * " And 
 he said to me, these are they which came out of great tribula- 
 tion." Hence, in pictures of martyrdoms, an angel descends 
 with the palm ; hence, it is figured in the tombs of martyrs, and 
 placed in the hands of those who have suffered in the cause of 
 truth, as expressing their final victory over the power of sin and 
 death. 
 
 784. The STANDARD, or banner, is also the symbol of victory, 
 the spiritual victory over sin, death, and idolatry. 
 
 785. The OLIVE, as the well known emblem of peace and 
 reconciliation, is figured on the tombs of early martyrs. Some- 
 times with, sometimes without the dove. 
 
 786. The DOVE, in Christian art, is an emblem of the Holy 
 Ghost. The dove is also an emblem of simplicity and purity 
 of heart, and, as such, is introduced into pictures of female 
 saints, and especially of the Madonna and Child. It is also the 
 emblem of the soul ; in this sense, it is seen issuing from the 
 lips of dying martyrs. 
 
 787. The LILY is another symbol of purity of very general 
 application. We find it in the pictures of the Virgin, and parti- 
 cularly in pictures of the Annunciation. It is placed signifi- 
 cantly in the hand of Joseph, the husband of the Virgin Mary, 
 his staff, according to the legend, having put forth lilies. It is 
 given to other saints, to express the purity of their lives. 
 
 788. The UNICORN is another ancient symbol of purity, in 
 allusion to the fable that it could never be captured, except by 
 a virgin, stainless in mind and life ; it has become, in conse- 
 quence, peculiarly the emblem of female chastity; but, in 
 Christian art, is appropriate only to the Virgin Mary and St. 
 Justina. 
 
 789. The FLAMING HEART expresses fervent piety and 
 love. 
 
 790. The BOOK, in the hands of the Evangelists and the 
 Apostles, is an attribute, and represents the Gospel. In the 
 hand of St. Stephen, it is the old Testament ; in the hand of any 
 
232 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 other saint, it may be the Gospel, but it may also be an emblem 
 only signifying that the saint was famous for his learning or his 
 writings. 
 
 791. A CHURCH placed in the hands of a saint, signifies that 
 lie was the founder of some particular church. 
 
 792. The SCOURGE, in the hand of a saint, or at his feet, 
 signifies the penances he inflicted upon himself; but in the hand 
 of St. Ambrose, it signifies the penance he inflicted upon others. 
 
 793. The ARK OF NOAH, floating safe amid the deluge, in 
 which all things else were overwhelmed, was an obvious symbol 
 of the Church of Christ. Subsequently the Ark became a 
 SHIP. St. Ambrose likens the Church of God to a ship, and 
 the Cross to a mast seen in the midst of it. The Bark of St. 
 Peter, tossed in the storm, and by the Redeemer guided safe to 
 land, was also considered as symbolical. These mingled asso- 
 ciations combined to give the emblem of the ship a sacred 
 significance. 
 
 794. The ANCHOR is the Christian symbol of immovable 
 firmness, hope, and patience ; and, in this sense, we find it very 
 frequently in the catacombs, and on the ancient Christian gems. 
 It was given to several of the early saints as a symbol. Sub- 
 sequently, a legend was invented to account for the symbol, 
 turning it into an attribute, as was the case with the lion and 
 the stag. 
 
 795. THE LAMP, LANTERN, or TAPER, is the old emblem of 
 piety. " Let your light so shine before men." And it also 
 signifies wisdom. 
 
 796. FLOWERS and FRUITS, often so beautifully introduced 
 into ecclesiastical works of art, may be merely ornamental; but 
 in some instances they have a definite signification. 
 
 797. The apple was the received emblem of the fall of man, 
 and original sin. Placed in pictures of the Madonna and Child, 
 either in the hand of the infant Christ, or represented by an 
 angel, it signified Redemption from the consequences of the 
 fall. The pomegranate bursting open, and the seeds visible, 
 was an emblem of the future of hope in immortality. When 
 
SYMBOLIC EMBLEMS. 233 
 
 an apple, a pear, or a pomegranate is placed in the hands of 
 St. Catharine as the mystical sposa of Christ, the allusion is to 
 be taken in the Scriptural sense. The fruit of the spirit is love, 
 joy, peace. 
 
 798. THE CROSIER was the pastoral staff, or emblematical 
 crook, of a bishop. The crosiers of many of the Catholic bishops 
 were made of costly materials and elegant workmanship.* 
 
 * Symbolic Christian emblems are quoted from Mrs. Jameson. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SCULPTURE. 
 
 799. IN the imitative scale of the fine arts, sculpture ranks 
 next to painting. Both have for their object the imitation of 
 form. In the art of painting, the representation of form is illu- 
 sive ; effect being given on a flat surface, by the aid of light, 
 shade and color. In the art of sculpture form is represented 
 by substance. Each art has its own laws and requirements. 
 The sculptor, like all artists, aims to gratify the pleasures of 
 taste, more particularly those for beauty of form. The painter 
 has various resources for appealing to the sentiment of beauty. 
 If he fails to please by the representation of form, he may still 
 gratify the taste by the combination of hues, or the arrangement 
 of the line, and light and shade, while the sculptor cannot hope 
 for success if he fails in beauty of form. In choice of subject, 
 too, the painter being less limited, has the advantage. The 
 sculptor must not choose his subject beyond the period of full 
 maturity. Age is picturesque, not statuesque. Some of the 
 finest subjects for the painter are heads that old Time has marked 
 for his own ; but what could the sculptor do with a long grey 
 beard, which is a picture in itself. 
 
 800. The sculptor u represents substance by substance," imi- 
 tates form by form, therefore his art requires first, great anato- 
 mical truth, and next perfect accuracy of detail. Truth to 
 nature also requires that the physical conformation should cor- 
 respond to the expression of character both in features and atti- 
 tude, belonging to the temperament of the subject. These 
 points were carefully observed by the ancient Greek sculptors, 
 whose skill their followers emulate, but fail to attain. 
 
SCULPTURE. 235 
 
 801. The elements of composition have already been treated, 
 to which is added a few pages from Charles Bell, 
 
 ON THOSE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION IN THE HUMAN COUN- 
 TENANCE WHICH CANNOT BE EXPLAINED ON THE IDEA OP 
 A DIRECT INFLUENCE OF THE MIND UPON THE FEATURES. 
 
 802. In the human countenance, under the influence of pas- 
 sion, there are characters expressed, and changes of features 
 produced, which it is impossible to explain on the notion of a 
 direct operation of the mind upon the features. Ignorance of 
 the source of these changes of the features, or inattention to 
 the cause which produces them, has thrown an obscurity over 
 the whole of this subject which it is my wish to remove. 
 
 803. If, in the examination of the sources of expression, it 
 should be found that the mind is dependent on the posture of 
 the body, the discovery ought not to be considered as humiliat- 
 ing, or as affecting the belief of a separate existence of that part 
 of our nature on which the changes wrought in the body are 
 ultimately impressed. Since we are dwellers in the material 
 world, it is necessary that the spirit should be connected with 
 it by an organized body, without which, it could neither feel 
 nor re-act, nor manifest itself in any way. It is a fundamental 
 law of our nature that the mind shall have its powers developed 
 through the influence of the body ; that the organs of the body 
 shall be the links in the chain of relation between it and the 
 material world, through which the immaterial principle within 
 shall be affected. 
 
 804. As the Creator has established this connection between 
 the mind and external nature, so has he implanted, or caused 
 to be generated, in us, various higher intellectual faculties. On 
 every intelligent being, He has laid the foundation of emotions 
 that point to Him, affections by which we are drawn to Him, 
 and which rest in Him as their object. In the mind of the 
 rudest slave, left to the education of the mere elements around 
 him, sentiments arise which lead him to a parent and a Creator 
 
236 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 These feelings spring up spontaneously ; they are universal and 
 not to be stricken off; and no better example than this can be 
 given of the adaptation of the mind to the various relations in 
 which man is placed, or one that tends more to raise in us a 
 conception of the Author of our being, and increase our esti- 
 mation of ourselves as allied to Him. 
 
 805. This it is perhaps necessary to premise, when I am 
 about to prove the extensive influence of the corporeal on the 
 intellectual part of man. 
 
 806. In examining the phenomena of the mind, philosophers 
 have too much overlooked this relation between the mental 
 operations and the condition of the bodily frame. It appears 
 to me that the frame of the body exclusive of the special organs 
 of hearing, seeing, etc., is a complex organ, I shall not say of 
 sense, but which ministers like the external senses of the mind ; 
 that is to say, as the organs of the five senses furnish ideas of 
 matter, the frame-work of the body contributes, in certain con- 
 ditions, to develope various states of the mind. 
 
 807. In the affections which we call passions or emotions, 
 there is an influence which points to the heart as the part where 
 they are felt. Some have asserted that they are seated in the 
 bowels ; and the sensations I am about to describe have been 
 arrayed as proofs that the affections exist in the body. But 
 that, I affirm, is impossible. They are conditions of the mind ; 
 and there can be no doubt, that there is a mutual influence ex- 
 ercised by the mind and frame on each other. This is not 
 asserted on the mere grounds that each affection which is deeply 
 felt, is accompanied by a disturbance in our heart ; nor on the 
 language of mankind, which gives universal assent to this pro- 
 position ; but it may be proved by circumstances of expression, 
 in which we cannot be deceived. I shall make it manifest that 
 what the eye, the ear, or the finger is to the mind, as exciting 
 those ideas which have been appointed to correspond with the 
 qualities of the material world, the organs of the breast are to 
 the development of our affections; and that without them we 
 might see, hear and smell, but we should walk the earth coldly 
 
SCULPTUiK. 237 
 
 indifferent to all emotions which may be said in an especial 
 manner to animate us, and give interest and grace to human 
 thoughts and actions. 
 
 808. By emotions are meant certain changes or affections of 
 the mind, as grief, joy, and astonishment. That such states or 
 conditions of the mind should in any degree pertain to the body, 
 may not, perhaps, be willingly admitted, unless we take along 
 with us that the ideas of sense, as light, sound, or taste, are 
 generated by the organs of the senses, and not by anything 
 received or conveyed by them to the sensorium. It is ascer- 
 tained that the different organs of the senses can be exercised, 
 and give rise to sensation and perception, when there is no 
 corresponding outward impression ; and the ideas thus excited 
 are according to the organ struck or agitated : that is, the same 
 impression conveyed to different organs of sense will give rise 
 to a variety of sensations ; as light, when the eye is struck ; 
 sound when the ear is struck ; and so on with the other organs ; 
 the sensation corresponding with the organ which is exercised, 
 and not with the cause of the impression. A needle passed 
 through the retina, the organ of vision, will produce the sensa- 
 tion of a spark of fire, not of sharpness or pain ; and the same 
 needle, if applied to the papillae of the tongue, will give rise to 
 the sense of taste ; while if it prick the skin pain will follow. 
 This law of the senses is arbitrarily or divinely ordered ; it 
 might have been otherwise. Accordingly, when we observe 
 that the organs of the senses operate in producing specific ideas, 
 independently of their own peculiar exciting causes, we can com- 
 prehend better how other organs of the body may have a rela- 
 tion established in the mind, and a control over it, without re- 
 ference to outward impressions. 
 
 809. Let us consider the heart in its office of receiving the 
 influence of the mind, and of reflecting that influence. 
 
 It may, in the first place, be observed, that there is hardly 
 an organ of the body limited to one function ; all are complex 
 in their operation. How many offices, for example, are per- 
 formed by the lungs ? It is a singular fact in the history of 
 
238 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 physiological opinions, that the heart, an organ the most sus- 
 ceptible of being excited by the agitations or derangements of 
 the body, should have been considered at one time as insensible. 
 And yet, in one sense, it is true that it is so. To actual touch 
 the heart is insensible, as was exhibited to the illustrious Har- 
 vey, in the person of a young nobleman, who had the heart ex- 
 posed by disease. This single circumstance, had there been no 
 other evidence, should have earlier directed physiologists to a 
 correct view of the matter ; from its proving that the internal 
 organs are affected and united by sensibilities which are alto- 
 gether different in kind from those bestowed on the skin. The 
 sensibility of the external surface of the body is a special en- 
 dowment adapted to the elements around, and calculated to 
 protect the internal parts from injury. But though the heart 
 has not this common sense of touch, yet it has an appropriate 
 sensibility, by which it is held united in the closest connection 
 and sympathy with the other vital organs ; so that it participates 
 in all the changes of the general system of the body. 
 
 810. But connected with the heart, and depending on its pe- 
 culiar and excessive sensibility, there is an extensive apparatus 
 which demands our attention. This is the organ of breathing ; 
 a part known obviously as the instrument of speech ; but which 
 I shall show to be more. The organ of breathing, in its asso- 
 ciation with the heart, is the instrument of expression, and is 
 the part of the frame, by the action of which the emotions are 
 developed and made visible to us. Certain strong feelings of 
 the mind produce a disturbed condition of the heart, indirectly 
 from the mind, the extensive apparatus constituting the organ 
 of breathing is put in motion, and gives us the outward signs 
 which we call expression. The man was wrong who found 
 fault with nature for not placing a window before the heart, in 
 order to render visible human thoughts and intentions. There 
 is, in truth, provision made in the countenance and outward 
 bearing for such discoveries. 
 
 811. One, ignorant of the grounds on which these opinions 
 are founded, has said, " Every strong emotion is directed to- 
 
SCULPTURE. 239 
 
 wards the heart : the heart experiences various kinds of sensa- 
 tion, pleasant or unpleasant, over which it has no control ; and 
 from thence the agitated spirits are diffused over the body." 
 The fact is certainly so, although the language be figurative. 
 How are these spirits diffused, and what are their effects ? 
 
 812. We find that the influence of the heart upon the ex- 
 tended organ of respiration has sway at so early a period of our 
 existence, that we must acknowledge that the operation or play 
 of the instrument of expression precedes the mental emotions 
 with which they are to be joined, accompanies them in their 
 first dawn, strengthens them, and directs them. So that it is 
 not, perhaps, too much to conclude that, from these organs 
 moving in sympathy with the mind, the same uniformity is pro- 
 duced among men, in their internal feelings, emotions, or pas- 
 sions, as exists in their ideas of external nature from the uni- 
 form operations of the organs of sense. 
 
 813. Let us place examples before us, and then try whether 
 the received doctrines of the passions will furnish us with an 
 explanation of the phenomena, or, whether we must go deeper, 
 and seek the assistance of anatomy. 
 
 814. In the expression of the passions, there is a compound 
 influence in operation. Let us contemplate the appearance of 
 terror. We can readily conceive why a man stands with eyes 
 intently fixed on the object of his fears, the eyebrows elevated 
 to the utmost, and the eye largely uncovered ; or why, with 
 hesitating and bewildered steps, his eyes are rapidly and wildly 
 in search of something. In this, we only perceive the intent 
 application of his mind to the object of his apprehensions its 
 direct influence on the outward organ. But, observe him fur- 
 ther ; there is a spasm on his breast, he cannot breathe freely, 
 the chest is elevated, the muscles of his neck and shoulders are 
 in action, his breathing is short and rapid, there is a gasping 
 and a convulsive motion of his lips, and tremor on his hollow 
 cheek, a gulping and catching of his throat ; and why does his 
 heart knock at his ribs, while yet there is no force of circula- 
 tion ? for his lips and cheeks are ashy pale. 
 
240 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 815. So in grief, if we attend to the same class of phenomena, 
 we shall be able to draw an exact picture. Let us imagine to 
 ourselves the overwhelming influence of grief on woman. The 
 object in her mind has absorbed all the powers of the frame, 
 the body is no more regarded, the spirits have left it, it reclines, 
 and the limbs gravitate; they are nerveless and relaxed, and 
 she scarcely breathes ; but why comes at intervals the long- 
 drawn sigh ? why are the neck and throat convulsed ? what 
 causes the swelling and quivering of the lips, and the deadly 
 paleness of the face ? or why is the hand so pale and earthly 
 cold? and why at intervals, as the agony returns, does the 
 convulsion spread over the frame like a paroxysm of suffocation ? 
 
 816. It must, I think, be acknowledged, when we come to 
 arrange these phenomena, these outward signs of the passions, 
 that they cannot proceed from the direct influence of the mind 
 alone. However strange it may sound to unaccustomed ears, it 
 is to the heart and lungs, and all the extended instrument of 
 breathing that we are to trace these effects. 
 
 817. Over such motions of the body, the mind has an une- 
 qual control. By a strong effort the outward tokens may be 
 restrained, at least in regard to the general bearing of the body ; 
 but who, while suffering, can retain the natural fulness of his 
 features, or the healthful color of his cheek, the unembarrassed 
 respiration and clearness of the natural voice ? The villain 
 may command his voice and mask his purpose with light and 
 libertine words, or carry an habitual sneer of contempt of all 
 softer passions ; but his unnatural paleness, and the sinking of 
 his features will betray what he suffers. Clarence says of his 
 
 murderers, 
 
 " How deadly dost thou speak ! 
 Your eyes do menace me : Why look you pale 1" 
 
 But the just feelings of mankind demand respect ; men will 
 not have the violence of grief obtruded on them. To preserve 
 the dignity of his character, the actor must permit those uncon- 
 trollable signs of suffering alone to escape, which betray how 
 much he feels, and how much he restrains. 
 
SCULPTURE. 241 
 
 818. Even while asleep, these interior organs of feeling will 
 prevail, and disclose the source of expression. Has my reader 
 seen Mrs. Siddons in Queen Katharine during that solemn 
 scene where the sad note was played that she named her knell ? 
 Who taught the crowd, sitting at a play, an audience differing 
 in age, habits and education, to believe those quivering motions, 
 and that gentle smile, and those slight convulsive twitchings to 
 be true to nature ? To see every one hushed to the softest 
 breathing of sympathy with the silent expression of the actress, 
 exhibits all mankind held together by one universal feeling ; 
 and that feeling, excited by expression, so deeply laid in our 
 nature, as to have influence without being obvious to reason. 
 
 819. To illustrate this curious subject, I shall first explain 
 the extensive connections which are established betwixt the 
 great organs that sustain life and the muscular system of the 
 face, neck, and chest. I shall then show that the functions of 
 these organs are effected by passions of the mind. I shall 
 prove that this connection subsists at the moment of birth, and 
 accompanies us through life ; and, finally, that from this source 
 are derived those obscure indications of emotion in the counte- 
 nance and general frame, which cannot be explained in the 
 supposition of a direct influence of the mind on the muscles of 
 expression. 
 
 820. The heart and the lungs may be safely taken as two 
 parts which are combined in the same function. The action 
 of the heart, and the motion of the lungs, are equally necessary 
 to the circulation of the blood which is fitted for the supply of 
 the body ; and the interruption of these motions threatens life. 
 Accordingly, these two organs are united by nerves, and con- 
 sequently, by the closest sympathy ; and in all the variations to 
 which they are liable, they are still found to correspond, the 
 accelerated action of the one being directly followed by the ex- 
 citement of the other 
 
 821. The motion of the lungs proceeds from a force altogether 
 external to them : they themselves are passive, being moved 
 by a very great number of muscles which lie upon the breast. 
 
 11 
 
242 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 back, and neck ; that is, the exterior muscles give play to the 
 ribs, and the lungs follow the motions of the chest. The heart 
 and lungs, though insensible to common impression, yet being 
 acutely alive to their proper stimulus, suffer from the slightest 
 changes or exertion of the frame, and also from the changes or 
 affections of the mind. The impression thus made on these 
 internal organs is not visible by its effect on them. This law 
 exists in all mankind ; we see the consequence in those sus- 
 ceptible, nervous persons, whom the mere change of position, 
 or the effort of rising, or the slightest emotion of mind flutters 
 and agitates. But it is when the strong are subdued by this 
 mysterious union of soul and body, when passion tears the 
 breast, that the most affecting picture of human frailty is pre- 
 sented, and the surest proof afforded, that it is on the respi- 
 ratory organs that the influence of passion falls with so powerful 
 an expression of agony.* 
 
 OF THE EAR. 
 
 822. The ear has always been wrought with the greatest 
 care by the ancient sculptors. Winckleman says, by a fragment 
 of a mutilated head, if it affords only the ear, we may judge 
 with certainty of the beauty and style of the whole statue ; and 
 of those where the workmanship is of inferior style, or of 
 doubtful antiquity, the ear will always decide. In the first 
 place a beautiful ear vouches for its antiquity, as an ill worked 
 one has never reached us from their best times ; and modern 
 artists who have restored antique statues, have always failed in 
 giving so beautiful a representation of the auricular organ as 
 the ancients. In the second instance, the ear in all genuine 
 antiques, participates in character with the whole work, of 
 which it forms a sort of attribute, and will always detect the 
 restorer's hand. 
 
 823. A particular or characteristic form of ear is always 
 found to belong to the statues of the ancients ; and those of 
 Hercules are particularly marked. The ears of this god are 
 
 * The Anatomy and Philosophy of Expression, by Sir Charles Bell. 
 
SCULPTURE. 243 
 
 always small, attached close to the head and a little flat ; the 
 cartilage, particularly that portion of it called antihelix, is 
 swoln, which narrows the opening of the tympanum, and is 
 marked with distinct ridges. The statue of Hercules of gilt 
 bronze in the Capitol, together with six others of marble, viz., 
 those of the Belvedere, the villa Medici, the Pallazzo Mattei, 
 the villa Borghese, the villa Ludovisi, and that in the gardens 
 of the Borghese palace, have each of them their ears formed 
 as above described. Some of the fine antique statues repre- 
 senting figures of Pancratiastes, which were the works of 
 Myron, Leochares, and other eminent sculptors, as well as the 
 fine one of Antolycas, are all characterized by this sort of ear. 
 The same may be observed in a colossal statue of Pollux at 
 the Capitol, and in a small figure of the same hero at the Far- 
 nese palace. The right ear of the pretended gladiator of the 
 villa Borghese has this form, while the left, which is a restora- 
 tion, differs. The villa Albani possesses a fine statue of a youth- 
 ful hero, with this conformation of ear ; which is also observed 
 in one of the Dioscuri at the Capitol, as well as in all those 
 which represent persons who have been celebrated in gymnastic 
 sports, wrestling, etc. 
 
 824. It is not surprising that this characteristic is assigned 
 to the heads of Hercules, when considered as the founder of the 
 Olympic games, which he rendered celebrated by his feats of 
 address and strength. Winckleman thinks it is given to all 
 gymnastic heroes. A fine colossal head of Hercules, in the 
 Townely collection, exhibits them in great perfection. 
 
 825. The ears of Janus, bacchanals, and satyrs, are made 
 more or less pointed at the superior extremity, denoting various 
 degrees of animal propensities. 
 
 826. Agostiuo Carracci considers the ear as the most difficult 
 part to represent. He, therefore, modeled one in relief much 
 larger than nature as a study, from which he drew in every 
 variety of position. It was from this model that those casts 
 were made that are used in the European Academies. 
 
 827. The character and expression of the head depend much 
 
244 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 upon the form and position of the ear. JElian, in depicting 
 the beauty of Aspasia, describes her ears as small and well 
 shaped. Large and ill-formed ears were considered deformities. 
 
 OF THE FOREHEAD. 
 
 828. One of the principal points of the beauty of the face 
 consists in the conformation of the forehead, which should above 
 all things be low. Our own observation, in part, and partly 
 the remarks of ancient writers, teach us this ; a high forehead 
 was even regarded by the ancients as ugly. Yet a high open 
 forehead is not ugly, but rather the reverse. This, though 
 seemingly a contradiction, is very easily explained. The fore- 
 head should be low in youth. It generally is low in the bloom 
 of life, before the hair which covers it falls off, and leaves it 
 bare ; nature herself has endowed the age of beauty with this 
 characteristic ; the absence of it, therefore, will always detract 
 from the beauty of the form of the face ; it would, consequently, 
 be a violation of the characteristics of youth, to give to it the 
 high, open forehead which belongs to manhood. We can easily 
 convince ourselves of this by covering with the finger the front 
 of a person who has a low forehead; the additional height thus 
 given to it will show the inharmoniousness of the proportion, 
 if I may so express myself, and enable us to understand on 
 what principle a high forehead is unfavorable to beauty. 
 
 829. A low forehead is so peculiar to the ideas which the 
 ancient artists had of a beautiful head, that it is a characteristic 
 by which an antique can frequently be distinguished from a 
 modern work.* 
 
 OF THE EXPRESSION OF THE HUMAN EYE. 
 
 830. The eye is the most lively feature in the countenance ; 
 the first of our senses to awake, and the last to cease motion. 
 It is indicative of the higher and holier emotions of all th^se 
 feelings which distinguish man from the brutes. 
 
 * Winckleman 
 
SCULPTUKE. 245 
 
 831. A large eye is not only consistent with beauty, but ne- 
 cessary to it. The eye of the eagle, even of the ox, is familiar 
 in the similes of the poets. The Arab expresses his idea of a 
 woman's beauty, by saying, that she has the eye of the gazelle ; 
 it is the burden of their songs. The timidity, gentleness, and 
 innocent fear, in the eye of the deer tribe, are compared with 
 the modesty of a young girl. " Let her be as the loving hind and 
 pleasant roe." In the eye we look for meaning, for sentiment, 
 for reproof. 
 
 832. Do architects study enough, when arranging the masses 
 of their buildings for effect, how the shadows will fall ? The 
 statuary, at all events must. " The eye ought to be sunk," says 
 Winckleman. Yes, relatively to the forehead ; but not in refer- 
 ence to the face. That would give a very mean expression. 
 It is the strong shadow produced by the projecting eyebrow, 
 which gives powerful effect to the eye, in sculpture. 
 
 833. We have said that the eye indicates the holier emotions. 
 In all stages of society, and in every clime, the posture and ex- 
 pression of reverence have been the same. The works of the 
 great masters, who have represented the more sublime passions 
 of man, may be adduced as evidences ; by the upturned direction 
 of the eyes, and a correspondence of feature and attitude, they 
 address us in language intelligible to all mankind. The humble 
 posture and raised eyes are natural, whether in the darkened 
 chamber, or under the open vault of heaven. 
 
 834. On first consideration, it seems merely consistent that 
 when pious thoughts prevail, man should turn his eyes from 
 things earthly to purer thoughts above. But there is a reason 
 for this which is every way worthy of attention. When subject 
 to particular influences, the natural position of the eye-ball is 
 to be directed upwards. The action is not a voluntary one, it 
 is irresistible. Hence, in reverence, in devotion, in agony of 
 mind, in all sentiments of pity, in bodily pain with fear of death, 
 the eyes assume that position. 
 
 835. Let us explain by what muscles the eyes are so re- 
 volved. There are two sets of muscles which govern the mo- 
 
246 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 tions of the eye-ball. Four straight muscles, attached at the 
 cardinal points, by combining their action, move it in every 
 direction required for vision ; and these muscles are subject to 
 the will. When the straight muscles, from weariness or ex- 
 haustion, cease to guide the eye, two other muscles operate to 
 roll it upward under the eye-lid ; these are the oblique muscles. 
 Accordingly, in sleep, in fainting, in approaching death, when 
 the four voluntary muscles resign their action, and insensibi- 
 lity creeps over the retina, the oblique muscles prevail, and the 
 pupil is revolved, so as to expose only the white of the eye. It 
 is so far consolatory to reflect, that the apparent agony indi- 
 cated by the direction of the eyes, in fainting or the approach 
 of death, is the effect of encroaching insensibility of objects 
 impressed on the nerve of vision being no longer perceived. 
 
 836. We thus see, that when wrapt in devotional feelings, 
 and when external impressions are unheeded, the eyes are 
 raised, by an action neither taught nor acquired. It is by this 
 instinctive motion we are all led to bow with humility to look 
 upwards in prayer, and to regard the visible heavens as the 
 seat of God : 
 
 " Prayer is the upward glancing of the eye, 
 When none but God is near." 
 
 Although the savage does not always distinguish God from 
 the heavens above him, this direction of the eye would appear 
 to be the source of the universal belief that the Supreme Being 
 has His throne above. The idolatrous negro, in praying for rice 
 and yams, or that he may be active and swift, lifts up his eyes to 
 the canopy of the sky. So in intercourse with God, although 
 we are taught that our globe is ever revolving ; though religion 
 inculcates that the Almighty is everywhere, yet, under the 
 influence of this position of the eye, which is no doubt designed 
 for a purpose, we seek Him on high. I will lift up mine eyes 
 unto the hills whence cometh my help.* 
 
 837. The eyes, as a component part of beauty, are still more 
 essential than the forehead. In art, they are to be considered 
 
 * C. Bell. 
 
SCULPTURE. 247 
 
 more in regard to their form than their color, because their 
 beauty does not consist in the latter, but in the former, which 
 is not at all affected, whatever the color of the iris may be. 
 "\Vith respect to the form of the eyes, generally, it is superfluous 
 to say that the beauty in them is the size, just as a great light 
 is more beautiful than a small one. But the size of the eye 
 conforms to the eye-bones, or its socket, and is manifested by 
 the edge and opening of the eyelids, of which the upper de- 
 scribes a rounder curve towards the inner corner of a beautiful 
 eye than the under.* 
 
 OF THE MOUTH. 
 
 838. In the face, the mouth is the seat of expression. The 
 action of the muscles of the eye and brow, like the attitude 
 of the figure, " sustains expression." 
 
 839. " Mere fright lifts the brows ; terror and horror deep 
 and strong knit them ; rage, anger, and pain knit them. In 
 insanity, the brows are vacantly raised, while a malignant sneer 
 is still visible in the eyes and mouth." This action of the 
 muscles of the brows, being common to the expression of these 
 various emotions, the observer needs some guide in deciding by 
 what passion or sensation they are excited. To determine this, 
 he must look to the mouth, for 'tis the action of the muscles of 
 the mouth that indicates the true emotions excited, and that 
 gives the characteristic expression of the face to which the 
 other features contribute. With the knit brow, the teeth may 
 gnash together as in rage ; or, the lips be firmly compressed in 
 the effort to restrain emotion, but it is the action of the muscles 
 of the mouth that mark the feeling or passion excited, giving 
 the true and unequivocal expression to the face. 
 
 840. There is a head of our Savior carved in ivory, which 
 at first view attracts attention from the expression of extreme 
 suffering it exhibits. Looking more closely we see the crown 
 of thorns, an accessory that unmistakably tells the subject 
 
 * Winckleman. 
 
248 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 The brows are closely knit, expressive of agony. We have 
 read that our Lord suffered much, and that the crown of thorns 
 belongs to the last scenes of his life on earth. But what point 
 of time has the artist chosen to express in his work? There 
 is no accessory and nothing to mark it until we look at the 
 mouth so parched and dry, that we seem almost to hear the 
 words" I thirst." 
 
 OF THE HAIR. 
 
 841. The hair of all sculptured figures which belong to a flour- 
 ishing period of art is curly, abundant, and executed with the ut- 
 most diligence. By modern sculptors, on the contrary, it is 
 scarcely indicated ; this is a fault, especially in female heads. 
 Hence there is a deficiency of light and shade in this part, for light 
 and shade cannot be produced where the grooves are superficial. 
 One of the reasons why so little labor has been bestowed upon the 
 hair by modern artists might seem to be that in appearance it 
 comes nearer to the reality when represented either as smooth or 
 confined in a mass ; still, on the other hand, art requires even 
 such hair to be disposed in deep curves. The heads of the 
 Amazons, on which there are no curls, may serve as models in 
 this particular. With the ancient Greek sculptors the arrange- 
 ment of the hair was made expressive of character. 
 
 EXPRESSION OF ATTITUDE. 
 
 842. The passions and even the sentiments are often most 
 strongly expressed in the attitude. To represent the many 
 variations of attitude, requires consummate skill in the artist, 
 because the indication of the impulse excited, often depends on 
 so slight a turn of the figure, perhaps the head only, or a hand. 
 To represent the effect of those slight emotions upon the physi- 
 cal frame, characterized by the more delicate shades of senti- 
 ment and feeling that none can define, is more difficult than 
 marking the influence of the stronger passions. To accom- 
 plish it well, shows a mastery in the essential requisites of art. 
 See chapter on Expression ( 378). 
 
SCULPTURE. 249 
 
 843. In works of art, sitting on the ground is a posture that 
 denotes deep misery and distress. " On several coins of Vespa- 
 sian and Titus, Judea Cttpta is represented in this posture, 
 denoting sorrow and captivity. The Psalmist describes the 
 Jews lamenting their captivity in the same pensive posture, and 
 Judea as a woman in sorrow sitting on the ground, in a passage 
 of the prophet that foretells the very captivity recorded in this 
 medal." 
 
 844. Standing with one hand crossed over the other, is an 
 expression of servitude. Captive kings are sometimes repre- 
 sented in this position. 
 
 845. In one of the Panathenaic processions, on a frieze of 
 the Parthenon, there are fifteen figures represented as walking, 
 followed by a chariot. The Canephoros or leader evidently 
 impressed with the importance of her office, advances with 
 grave dignity. The movements of those that directly follow, 
 partake of the same character, which gradually changes from 
 this marked gravity to greater freedom of motion, in proportion 
 to the distance of each one from the leader. The variation of 
 attitude admitted by this arrangement, and which is perfectly 
 true to nature, destroys the formality that would mark the line, 
 if each one from the first to the last, moved with the same 
 measured precision. 
 
 846. Some ancient statues, seem in the attitude to express 
 physical strength and skill only. In the statue of the fighting 
 gladiator, so called, is it not probable that some person is com- 
 memorated who excelled all others in feats of skill ? who had 
 become not only ambi-dextrous, but had also acquired perfect 
 control over every muscle and joint of his frame ? The attitude 
 in which he is represented it seems impossible to maintain, yet, 
 with the importance that the ancient Greeks attached to the 
 exercises of their games, their wonderful feats of skill, and the 
 emulation of the competitors to excel, they would not be likely 
 to admit that complete muscular force was limited to the right 
 side of the body. In the cultivation of all abilities, physical as 
 well as mental, it was evidently a principle with them to aim 
 
250 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 at the highest point of development. Hence their attempts to 
 accomplish feats the most difficult, as well as the completion 
 that characterizes the result of all their pursuits and efforts. 
 
 DRAPING STATUES. 
 
 847. The question is sometimes asked, whether it should be 
 done at all ? or, if, in doing it, the artist should adopt the cos- 
 tume of the day ? 
 
 848. In every department of art, the ancient Greek sculptors 
 were governed by some law or principle, and without appeal 
 can be made to some law or principle, all questions of taste 
 must ever remain open to discussion. Their principle in regard 
 to drapery was, that it was intended to cover the figure without 
 concealing it. Nothing more effectually conceals the figure 
 than the fashions of the day. They are designed for that pur- 
 pose. In erecting a statue of a distinguished individual, the 
 object is to immortalize his character. By adopting the fashion 
 of the time that was common to his contemporaries, that is also 
 immortalized, or perpetuated as long as the statue stands, and 
 the object of the work, in regard to the individual represented, 
 is entirely destroyed. Draped according to any local custom 
 (for dress is not drapery) a statue representing any individual 
 who has become distinguished, either as a warrior, hero 
 or poet, becomes a permanent "show-block," and serves but 
 one purpose, that of exhibiting the fashion peculiar to his time. 
 This was nothing of his own invention ; expresses nothing char- 
 acteristic, and the individual use of it, only showed that in re- 
 gard to dress the subject of the work had conformed to the pe- 
 culiar modes of his day. The general rules for drapery are 
 given from ( 418 to 426). 
 
 849. Figures, however beautiful, should seldom be repre- 
 sented without drapery. Among the antique statues, there 
 are but few found entirely nude ; and in these, the character 
 and attitude is such as to make the exception pardonable, (iv) 
 
SCULPTURE. 251 
 
 COMPOSITION.* 
 
 850. The Greek poets conducted their works on a plan of 
 composition which equally governs painting and sculpture. 
 
 851. Homer's Iliad is a whole, united in its parts, and varied 
 by gradation. 
 
 852. The sentiment throughout is wrath, beginning with the 
 dissension of the kings, continued by the vengeance of the Tro- 
 jans, and ended by the destruction of Troy's hope and bulwark 
 in the death of Hector. The characters have a varied indivi- 
 duality. 
 
 853. Achilles is the hero who, like the sun, enlightens and 
 heats all by the blaze of his presence ; his absence is darkness 
 and dismay. 
 
 854. There is the same unity in connection and gradation of 
 characters and circumstances to be found in the Prometheus of 
 -^schylus. 
 
 855. Vulcan, Force and Strength ; Mercury, Ocean and the 
 Nymphs are but contingents to the adamantine spirit of Pro- 
 metheus, whom the threats of Jupiter could not move, nor con- 
 vulsions of the universe terrify : the interest is in him, to which 
 the ministering violence, admonition, consolation, or tendency 
 of the inferior characters, gives subordinate relation. 
 
 856. Principles of composition require that the story should 
 be a perfect whole, and that one character should be supreme, 
 to which all the inferiors should have some relation by connec- 
 tion or separation. The individual variety of character is 
 equally in the order of nature. 
 
 857. Aristotle and Horace in their "Arts of Poetry," (be- 
 sides the above mentioned) propose various rules, which equally 
 govern the poet, painter and sculptor ; and that no doubt may 
 be entertained concerning the practice of the ancient artists, 
 Horace tells us that " the poet and painter are regulated by the 
 same principles." 
 
 * From Flaxman's Lee. on Sculpture. 
 
252 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 858. For the sake of clearness, the rules of composition shall 
 be given under distinct heads. 
 
 859. First, a poet speaks by words. The painter and sculp- 
 tor by action. Action singly, or in series : the subject of com- 
 position being comprised in the arts of design ; thus the story 
 of Laocoon is told by the agony of the father and sons, inextri- 
 cably wound about in the folds of serpents. 
 
 860. The anger of Achilles is shown by drawing his sword 
 on Agamemnon in the council of the kings. And every action 
 is more perfect as it comprehends an indication of the past, 
 with a certainty of the end, in the moment chosen. 
 
 861. Annanias falling in the contraction of death at the feet 
 of Peter, proves a divine authority in the apostle's rebuke, 
 whilst Sapphira, counting the silver, leads to the nature of his 
 offence. (See Raphael's Cartoon,) 
 
 862. In the group of Heman and Antigone, he supports the 
 expiring woman, whilst he kills himself with the same sword 
 which slew her, showing his death to be a consequence of hers. 
 
 863. Expression distinguishes species of action in the whole 
 and in all the parts ; in the faces, figures, limbs and extremi- 
 ties. Whether the story be heroic, grave, or tender, it is the 
 very soul of composition it animates its character and grada- 
 tions, as the human soul doth the body and limbs it engages 
 the attention, and excites an interest which compensates for a 
 multitude of defects whilst the most admirable execution, with- 
 out a just and lively expression, will be disregarded as labori- 
 ous inanity, or contemned as an illusory endeavor to impose on 
 the feelings and the understanding. 
 
 864. The general forms of masses in composition have been 
 enumerated and ably described by the professor of painting ; 
 but as these particularly concerned the sculptor, whose whole 
 study is form, a repetition will not be useless. 
 
 865. The forms are the pyramid erect, inverted, or lateral, 
 the circle and the oval ; they may be radiated and the whole 
 will have a flame-like undulation in effect, from the ever-vary- 
 
SCULPTURE. 253 
 
 ing succession of curves in the outline and action of the human 
 figure. 
 
 866. The parts will be more simple and rectilinear in repose, 
 more angular in violent action, and partaking of gentle curves 
 when the subject is tender, and the person elegant : when the 
 limbs are entwined as struggling, or in any sympathetic act 
 either of force or tenderness, the joints, the general curves and 
 views of the limbs should never be exactly and mechanically 
 the same, but partake of the wonderful variety of nature, in 
 which all faces, all bodies, and all efforts are different. This 
 gives life and motion. 
 
 867. What has been said above, is equally applicable to the 
 group or basso-relievo, but the application must be accom- 
 modated to the subject. The entire group is independent of 
 back-ground, and that additional contrast or effect produced by 
 the adjunction of secondary figures arid objects ; it is one whole, 
 whose idea is perfect and action satisfactory in itself; it is to 
 be seen in every view, and each view must exhibit a different 
 group preserving a succession of beautiful forms and distinct 
 lines without impairing the energy of sentiment. 
 
 868. The basso-relievo may be considered in effect as a 
 picture without coloring, whose back-ground is light, a little 
 subdued, the figures thereon being chiefly of the middle tint, 
 with touches of strong dark in the depths, and bright lights on 
 the higher projections. This species of sculpture is not in- 
 tended to be seen in many views like the entire group, but it 
 has this advantage, that more groups than one may be on the 
 same back-ground, and sometimes a succession of events in the 
 same story ; a greater force is given to harmony, or contrast 
 of lines, by the number of groups and figures as well as the 
 projection of their shadows. 
 
 869. The ancients, who considered simplicity as a charac- 
 teristic of perfection, represented stories by a single row of 
 figures in the bas-relief, by which the whole outline of the 
 figure or group, the energy of action, the concatenation of 
 limbs, the flight or flow of drapery were seen with little inter- 
 
254: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 ruption ; but there are instances of the best times in low 
 relievo, where many horsemen are advancing before each other, 
 the nearer horse hiding the hinder parts of the preceding, and 
 sometimes part of the rider, without causing the least confusion 
 of effect, as in the frieze from the temple of Minerva in Lord 
 Elgin's collection. 
 
 870. There are noble examples also, of groups and figures 
 rushing in the same reiterated line through the composition ; 
 but even in basso-relievo, it must be remembered, the work is 
 sculpture, which allows no picturesque addition or effect of back- 
 ground ; the story must be told, and the field occupied by the 
 figure and acts of man. 
 
 871. All art, as the imitation of nature, must be allied by 
 the same relations, and submit to the same laws which govern 
 nature itself: thus, a certain view of the human figure is most 
 fit to express its spring and motion in running or striking, and 
 consequently the quantity of the figure seen in that view; 
 another quantity will more properly belong to a different ex- 
 ertion or repose. 
 
 872. The story may require that the upper part of one 
 figure should be principal, whilst, perhaps, the lower parts are 
 concealed by an intervening object; some figures may be 
 running in different directions, more crowded, or separate. To 
 regulate these spaces and qualities harmoniously, concerns the 
 sculptor in his composition, equally with the poet or musician 
 in theirs. This is to be done by the same means according to 
 different modes of manifestation, and the thirds, fifths, and 
 eighths, with their subdivisions, taken by gross calculation in 
 the arts of design, not exact measurement, Mill produce the 
 same agreeable effect in lines, light and shadow, space and the 
 arrangement of colors, as is produced by similar quantities in 
 music. 
 
 873. One simple instance only shall be given of opposition, 
 and another of harmony, in lines and quantities : two equal 
 curves, set with either their convex or concave faces to each 
 other, produce opposition ; but unite two curves of different 
 
SCULPTURED 255 
 
 size and segment, they will produce that harmonious line, 
 termed graceful, in the human figure. 
 
 874. Concerning the quantity of light and shadow in a group, 
 if the light be one-third, and shadow two-thirds, the effect will 
 be bold. If the light be one part, and the shade four, the light 
 will be bolder, and accord with a tragic or terrific action ; but 
 the more general effect of sculpture is two-thirds of light on 
 the middle of the group, with a small proportion of very dark 
 shadow in the deeper hollows. 
 
 875. An attention to the materials of sculpture will naturally 
 lead us to the description of its legitimate subjects. The gray 
 solemn tints of stone, the beautiful semi-transparent purity of 
 marble, the golden splendor, or corroding darkened green of 
 bronze, reject as incongruous all subjects and characters which 
 have not some dignity of elevation. 
 
 876. The awful simplicity of those forms whose eyes have 
 neither color nor brilliancy, and whose limbs have not the glow 
 of circulation, strikes the first view of the beholder as being of 
 a different order from himself. 
 
 877. Angels, spiritual ministers, embodied virtues, departed 
 worthies, the patriot or general benefactor, shining in the splen- 
 dor of his deeds, or gloomy and consuming memorials of the 
 great in former ages such subjects distinguish temples, 
 churches, palaces, courts of justice, and the open squares of 
 cities. At the same time that they symbolize their several 
 purposes, they may be comprehended in the three classes of 
 sublime, heroic, and tender. 
 
 878. The sublime represents all supernatural acts and ap- 
 pearances, such as assemblies of the gods, or falls of the giants, 
 etc. In the higher class of subjects are the different arts of 
 creation, the Angels appearing to the Shepherds, the Transfigu- 
 ration, the Ascension, and the Judgment. 
 
 879. In this class can be nothing common in idea, person, or 
 action ; the idea, whether simple or complex, must be such as 
 cannot be seen in nature ; the beauty and dignity of the persons 
 
256 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 should be more than human, and the action, whether forcible or 
 pathetic, should be action in its essence. 
 
 880. Of the heroic class of compositions, we may account 
 the battles of the Athenians and Amazons, and of the Atheni- 
 ans and Persians, in the temples of Minerva and Theseus at 
 Athens, and the temple of Apollo at Phigaleia, with such sub- 
 jects as the story of Orestes, and the death of Egysthus, in the 
 ancient basso-relievos. 
 
 881. Of the tender or pathetic, are the death of Meleager, 
 Antiope comforted by Zethus and Amphion ; to which may be 
 added, such Christian subjects as Michael Angelo's Holy Family 
 and Charity : for although these two last are paintings, their 
 compositions are so perfectly sculptural, that they may, without 
 impropriety, be admitted into the present arrangement. 
 
 882. Another class of subjects may be observed among the 
 ancient basso-relievos, from the prevalence of elegant female 
 figures in the pageants of marine divinities, or in the festive 
 choruses. 
 
 883. The characteristics of Grecian composition in the best 
 ages, are simplicity and distinctness, in all the examples of 
 painting that have come down to us. Where the subject does 
 not require much action, it is told by gentle movements, and 
 the figures, whether grouped or single, have a sufficient portion 
 of plain back-ground left about them, to show the general lines 
 with the forms of the limbs and draperies perfectly intelligible. 
 
 884. Where complication and force of action may be required, 
 it is done with a grace of concatenation which adds continuity 
 to the act, without causing it to be less distinct. And in such 
 as are all agitation and violence, the force of striking, the rush 
 of flight, the agony of dying, and the prostration of the dead, in 
 which union of action is enforced by repetition, and difference 
 of situation by contrast, still the same distinctness is pre- 
 served. 
 
 885. In the great compositions of modern times, the Last 
 Judgment of Michael Angelo, and the Fall of the Angels by 
 Rubens, there are multitudes and legions in comparison with 
 
SCULPTURE. 257 
 
 the separate figures and single groups in the most considerable 
 of the ancient works. The beholder is thunder-struck by an- 
 gels falling in groups and forked masses, amalgamating in the 
 vivid Hashes, and darkening in the sulphurous smoke, in the 
 various dismay, horror, terror, and torpor of deadened intellect, 
 in their lost condition. In this picture the undulation of groups, 
 the play of lines, the entwining of limbs, and the breadth and 
 quantities of light and shade may be studied by the painter and 
 sculptor with equal advantage. 
 
 886. The Last Judgment, by Michael Angelo, is, however, a 
 more consummate work, and the parent from which The Fall 
 of the Angels derived its being. 
 
 887. If the Judgment is inferior to the Falling Angels in 
 general effect in the breadth of light and shade the strength 
 of approaching parts the gradual distance of those which re- 
 treat, by diffusion of middle tint and the vivid variegations of 
 reflex, it is superior in the sublimity and extent of character 
 and action in the gradations of sentiment and passion, from 
 exalted beatitude to the abyss of hopeless destruction in the 
 kinds and species of these degrees in relations to the theolo- 
 gical and cardinal virtues, opposed to the seven deadly sins in 
 force of conception in uncommon original, distinct and fit ap- 
 propriation in the groups or separate figures, the sentiment of 
 particular figures and groups is in the whole, and all the parts, 
 penetrating, sympathetic, and true. 
 
 888. Despair plunges headlong and downwards, the fall of 
 the contentious is aided by strife and blows, the malignant 
 drawn downwards by the fiends, is tormented in his way by the 
 biting serpent ; for some there is a terrific contest between angels 
 and infernals. 
 
 889. Among the happy, brotherly love is evident among 
 three figures that shoot upwards together, whose faces, seen a 
 little beyond each other, appear to be reflections of the same 
 self; several rise to the heavenly regions by the attractions of 
 purity, piety, and charity. 
 
 890. In this stupendous work, in addition to the genius of 
 
258 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 the mighty master, the mechanical powers and movements of 
 the figure, its anatomical energy and fbrms are shown by such 
 perspective of the most difficult positions, as surpass any exam- 
 ples left by the ancients on a flat surface or low relief, and are 
 only to be equaled in kind, but not in proportion to the appli- 
 cation, in the front and diagonal views of the Laocoon, and all 
 the views of the Boxers, which are both entire groups. 
 
 891. By such observations on these works, so far as compo- 
 sition and design are common to the sister arts, the sculptor 
 perceives the scope and power of his own art. 
 
 892. It is true, that sublime and extensive works are seldom 
 required in the slow and difficult process of sculpture ; but he 
 who loves the honorable exercise of his art, and the intellectual 
 delight of worthy exertion, will endeavor to prepare himself 
 for all difficulties; besides, the combinations and particular 
 groups will be more or less concerned in the studies of every 
 day; and as the electric fluid pervades all matter, so the same 
 spirit and principles which inform these works, penetrate the 
 whole study of the human figure. 
 
 893. The lines of Grecian composition enchant the beholder 
 by their harmony and perfection, and this portion of study 
 seems to have been highly approved by Pamphilus, the learned 
 Macedonian painter, who denied that any one could succeed in 
 the study of painting without arithmetic and geometry. The 
 application of these two sciences is very evident in the arts of 
 design : by arithmetic, the proportions of the human figure and 
 other animals are reckoned, and the quantities of bodies, super- 
 ficies, or light and shade ascertained ; geometry gives lines and 
 diagrams for the motion, outline, and drapery of the figure, re- 
 gulated by the harmony of agreeable proportions, or the oppo- 
 sition of contrast. The effect is evident in the groups of the 
 Laocoon and the Boxers, the bas-relief of the Niobe family, 
 and that of the rape of Proserpine ; but this magic bond of 
 arrangement was utterly lost when other perfections of Grecian 
 genius were overwhelmed in barbarism, nor in any degree 
 recovered until late in the resurrection of the arts, and then 
 
SCULPTURE. 259 
 
 they were reproduced by the same means which had discovered 
 them. 
 
 894. The study of geometry became more general, and had 
 been applied with more success to the improvement of science 
 and art, after the learned Greeks, who fled from Constantinople, 
 settled in Italy. 
 
 895. Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo were greedy 
 partakers in this abundant harvest of knowledge. Michael 
 Angelo showed his sensibility to the play of lines in his picture 
 of the Holy Family, in which the Virgin sitting on the ground 
 receives the infant Jesus, whom Joseph, stooping behind, pre- 
 sents over the right shoulder. 
 
 896. Leonardo da Vinci, who had devoted much time to 
 mechanical and geometrical studies, composed the Contest for 
 the Standard, intended to be painted in the great hall of the old 
 palace of Florence. This was indeed a prodigy in modern 
 achievement, and the first great example of complicated group- 
 ing since the arts flourished in ancient Greece. 
 
 897. Michael Angelo's mind seems at this time to have been 
 employed on the powers, forms, and views of the human figure 
 singly, and perhaps the admirable groups in the ceiling and 
 Last Judgment of the Sistine Chapel, were the consequence of 
 Leonardo da Vinci's example. We are sure the several hunts 
 of the lions, hippopotamus, and crocodile, were painted by 
 Rubens in emulation, if not in imitation of Leonardo's Battle 
 of the Standard ; and such is their merit, that in them you 
 see the men strike, the horses kick, wild animals roaring, turn 
 and rend their hunter, with a grandeur of lines equal to the 
 vivacity of action and passion. In comparing these with 
 similar subjects in ancient basso-relievos, particularly with those 
 on the arch of Constantine, in which Trajan hunts the lion and 
 boar, modern genius shines with uncommon brilliancy, and 
 Trajan with his followers, and the animals they attack, are 
 tame, insipid, and unnatural. 
 
 898. In comparing ancient and modern compositions, we 
 shall find the systems and moral habits of the times and 
 
260 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 countries. The Greeks admired, encouraged, cultivated per- 
 sonal beauty by gymnastic exercises and public rewards in the 
 Olympian meeting of the states ; consequently, what they 
 admired, they represented. The most choice selections of 
 countenance and form, the most elegant display in the folds of 
 drapery, was seen in their councils of divinities ; in combats 
 and heroic adventures, grace, elasticity of action and personal 
 courage, were conspicuous. 
 
 899. The modern arts have been more zealously employed 
 to commemorate the acts and events of that dispensation which 
 governs their conduct, and determines their future condition ; 
 and even in their celebrations and memorials of political occur- 
 rences, or private characters, they are always combinations of 
 the moral virtues, or the influences of providential direction. 
 What has been done, and what may be done from such subjects, 
 is proved by Michael Angelo's Old Testament, and Judgment, 
 in the Sistine Chapel the Calling of Paul, and the Martyrdom 
 of Peter, in the Pauline Chapel the Plagues in the last days 
 of the Church, by Signorelli, in the Cathedral of Orvieto the 
 Cartoons of Raphael the scriptural basso-relievos by John 
 and Nicholas Pisani, Donatello, and Lorenzo Ghiberti. These 
 subjects are more than sufficient to employ the greatest human 
 powers, comprehending whatever is most sublime or beautiful 
 in energy or repose most tender, most affectionate, most 
 forcible, or most terrific. 
 
 900. An additional distinction between the subjects of ancient 
 and modern composition is occasioned by parental affection, and 
 domestic charities, being cherished in the Christian dispensation 
 much more powerfully than in the Grecian codes : to these 
 graces of benevolence we owe those lovely groups, the Holy 
 Families of Eaphael and Corregio, and the Charity of Michael 
 Angelo, unequaled by any ancient composition of a mother 
 and children, and one of the finest groups in existence. 
 
 901. In a discourse on the composition of sculpture, some 
 observations may be expected on sepulchral monuments and 
 equestrian statues ; but little need be said concerning them at 
 
SCULPTURE. 261 
 
 present, because the sculptor capable of producing a fine group, 
 or alto-relievo of three or more figures, need only limit the 
 compass of his powers, or submit them to architectural arrange- 
 ments, and he will execute either one or the other without 
 difficulty. Two or three examples will be sufficient : A monu- 
 ment to Sir Francis Vere Westminster Abbey the Tomb 
 of Madame Langhan and Michael Angelo's design for Julius 
 II.'s monument. Remember, that the entire group, and the alto 
 or basso-relievo, are the only legitimate sculpture. 
 
 902. All those monuments of the later Italian shool, in which 
 entire figures are mingled with those of low relief on pyrami- 
 dal back-grounds, are mean attempts to unite the effects and 
 perspective of painting, with the force and severity of sculp- 
 ture, as ineffectual as injudicious, and as they partake in the 
 qualities of both arts, cannot properly be ranked in either. 
 
 903. The sculptor must not forget that his art is limited in 
 comparison with painting: colors and effects are beyond his 
 bound ; whether the art he represents was performed in the 
 bright mid-day sunshine or the darkness of midnight, concerns 
 him not, his forms must be equally perfect, and his expression 
 equally decided. Even basso-relief, a tree or two, some rude 
 stone, a flat column, or a wall, slightly marked in the back- 
 ground, must indicate a forest, a mountain, or a palace, with- 
 out detailing a portrait of their component parts. Such are the 
 limits which circumscribe the sculptor ; but it is a limitation by 
 which he is in a measure delivered from the restraints of time 
 and space, which strengthen his powers by concentration, and 
 by which he is privileged to disregard inferior objects for the 
 human figure, the most perfect of all forms, with all gradations 
 of intelligence, affection, sentiment, action, or passion, capable 
 of being expressed in it, individually or in numbers, and in the 
 different orders of being, from the exalted supernatural agent 
 to the lower gradations which terminate in brutal nature. 
 
 904. What has been delivered comprises some of the rules 
 for composing, and observations on composition, the most ob- 
 vious, and perhaps not the least useful. They have been 
 
 10* 
 
262 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 collected from the best works and the best writings, examined 
 and compared with their principles in nature. Such a compre- 
 hensive view may be useful to the younger student, in pointing 
 his way, preventing error, and showing the needful materials ; 
 but, after all, he must perform the work himself! All rules, all 
 critical discourses, can but awaken the intelligence, and direc- 
 tions for a beginning of that which is to be done. They may 
 be compared to the scaffolding for raising a magnificent palace ; 
 it is neither the building nor the decoration, but it is the work- 
 man's indispensable help in erecting the walls which enclose the 
 apartments, and which may afterwards be enriched with the 
 most splendid ornaments. 
 
 905. Every painter and sculptor feels conviction that a con- 
 siderable portion of science is requisite to the productions of 
 liberal art ; but he will be equally convinced that whatever is 
 produced from principles and rules only, added to the most 
 exquisite manual labor, is no more than a mechanical work. 
 Sentiment is the life and soul of fine art ! without, it is all a 
 dead letter ! Sentiment gives a sterling value, an irresistible 
 charm, to the rudest imagery or most unpracticed scrawl. By 
 this quality a firm alliance is formed with the affections in all 
 works of art. With an earnest watchfulness for their preser- 
 vation, we are made to perceive and feel the most sublime and 
 terrific subjects, following the course of sentiment through the 
 current and mazes of intelligence and passion to the most deli- 
 cate and tender ties and sympathies of affection; the benign 
 exertions of spiritual natures; the tremendous fall of rebel 
 angels or Titans ; the immovable fortitude or contending energy 
 of patriotism ; the sincerity of friendship, and the irresistible 
 harmony of connubial, maternal, fraternal, and filial love. 
 
 906. Such effects are produced by the artist's own choicest 
 feelings and faculties, embodied and enforced by the uninter- 
 rupted and constant observation and imitation of whatever is 
 strikingly excellent in nature 
 
SCULPTURE. 263 
 
 CHOICE AND TREATMENT OF SUBJECT. 
 
 907. In deciding on a subject for composition, the sculptor 
 must carefully consider whether it is suited to the requirements 
 of his art, which forbids the representation of figures in action. 
 The very word statue implies that. All sculptured figures must 
 be in repose. The ancient Greek sculptors carefully observed 
 this principle. The merits of the group of the Laocoon, the 
 grandest work of antiquity that has reached our own time, can- 
 not be perfectly understood without regarding this rule of plastic 
 art. 
 
 908. By carefully observing the figures, we find that the 
 artist has chosen the only moment of repose amid the most 
 powerful struggle that can be conceived. By referring to Bell's 
 article on expression, and his remarks on the insensibility pro- 
 duced by intense agony and its effect upon the muscles of the 
 eye, this statue is best understood. ( 834-836.) The momen- 
 tary insensibility occasioned by the intense agony of the father, 
 when the pupil is revolved so as to expose only the white of 
 the eye, and all action suspended, is the precise point of time 
 chosen by the sculptor, in obedience to the laws of his art, as 
 the one most suitable for representation. The skill with which 
 it is accomplished can be appreciated only by those who have 
 had the pain of witnessing the same natural effect of momentary 
 insensibility from intense and overpowering agony. Those who 
 have, cannot mistake the position of the head dropped upon 
 the shoulder, where it rests for the moment, and for the mo- 
 ment only, until returning consciousness restores action to the 
 muscles. Even if this were doubtful, the peculiar expression 
 of the eye is sufficient to mark the influence of the involuntary 
 muscles. 
 
 909. One of the sons apparently suspends his own efforts, to 
 cast an imploring and silent appeal for aid from his father ; 
 while the other appears to have abandoned his struggle in u 
 moment of hopeless despair. He has evidently lost all control 
 of action ; his expression indicates faintness, and the next instant 
 his right hand will drop powerless. 
 
264: STUDY OF ART. 
 
 910. The famous statue of the Apollo represents him also 
 
 a moment of repose. Having discharged his arrow, he retains 
 the same position as his eye follows its course. Had his mark 
 been near at hand, the position would be false. It shows at 
 once, that he is the " far-shooting god." 
 
 911. It is said of Benjamin West, " that when he first saw 
 the Apollo Belvidere, he exclaimed, "How like a Mohawk 
 warrior !" He then described to the bystanders their education ; 
 their dexterity with the bow and arrow ; the admirable elasticity 
 of their limbs ; how much their active life expands the chest, 
 while the quick breathing of their speed in the chase, dilates 
 the nostrils with that apparent consciousness of vigor which is 
 so nobly depicted in the Apollo. " I have seen them often," 
 added he, " standing in that very attitude, and pursuing, with 
 an intense eye, the arrow which they had just discharged from 
 the bow." The Italians present admitted that a better criticism 
 of the merits of the statue, had rarely been given.* 
 
 912. Ancient artists were careful in their choice of accesso- 
 ries, that they should be expressive, and true to the time and 
 the character represented. This accuracy gives to ancient coins 
 and medals great value and importance. The historian, in the 
 study of coins, finds a chronology of reigns that supplies the want 
 of dates. It is true, the passing events of the day are now 
 recorded in history. But, can this render truth of representa- 
 tion any less important ? Even allowing that to be the case, 
 should not the beauty of propriety be considered ? Is this point 
 sufficiently regarded by artists of the present day ? 
 
 913. Two years since a medal was cast, presenting on the 
 obverse, " the figure of Justice, elevated on a small pedestal, 
 bestowing a wreath of laurel upon Industry, represented by a 
 female figure, led by Progress ;" on the reverse, " Exhibition of 
 the Industry of All Nations, New York, 1853." 
 
 914. Let us examine these figures and their accessories. In- 
 
 * Gait's Life of West. 
 
SCULPTURE. 265 
 
 clustry, the principal one of the group, appears in a very doubtful 
 position, and we know of but one word that will define it, that 
 is squatting. If any person after examining the figure, can fur- 
 nish one more suitable, as well as more artistic, we shall be 
 happy to substitute it. In her left hand she holds a long stick 
 that rests upon her shoulder, bearing an ^appendage at the top, 
 probably intended for a distaff. If so, she has the attribute of 
 Lachesis, whose office it is to spin the thread of life. Progress, 
 so called, wears upon his head something like a diadem, and is 
 winged. This attribute seems not particularly expressive, wings 
 being common to angels, genii, cupids, etc. ; and if assumed by 
 Progress, would be likely to secure to him a fate similar to that 
 of Icarus. In his right hand he holds a globe, and with his left 
 presents Industry for the prize. Justice, in assuming the office 
 of Victory, has dropped the bandage, one of her peculiar attri- 
 butes, and has also borrowed a crown, which she wears upon 
 her head. Not only that, she is so absorbed in her new office 
 of bestowing the wreath of victory, upon the figure at her feet, 
 that she forgets her own peculiar vocation, that of balancing the 
 scales. Indeed, the manner in which she holds them would 
 indicate that the prize were as well awarded without their 
 use. 
 
 915. Suppose this medal should be found five hundred years 
 hence, with the reverse entirely obliterated, leaving nothing but 
 the figures and their accessories to explain its origin and its 
 meaning, what is there to decide its date, or object, or locality ? 
 With this deficiency, is it, or is it not wanting in merit as a 
 work of art. (x) 
 
 916. A modern bust of Medusa, in the expression and atti- 
 tude of the head, reminds one of the antique statue of Niobe. 
 Indeed, the resemblance is so strong, as to suggest the idea of 
 their having been twin sisters. The hair is represented in a 
 state of transformation, after some antiques of the same subject. 
 The mysterious attributes of this mysterious character, the 
 wings, are dropped close to the head. Over the forehead, the 
 heads of the serpents are made very conspicuous, and arrayed 
 
 1? 
 
266 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 in regular curves with the evident_intention of forming some- 
 thing like a coronet, which has a finical effect. At the termi- 
 nation of the bust, and forming the edge of it, are two good- 
 sized snakes, their heads uniting in the centre, and the tails 
 reaching to the shoulders. Introduced in this way, they are 
 accessories, and, as such, belong to Minerva. On a bust of Me- 
 dusa they are false and out of place. Representing living ser- 
 pents on living flesh is a matter of taste. When given to Mi- 
 nerva they are placed upon her asgis. 
 
 917. The faults in the anatomy of the bust, both in form and 
 proportion, are quite as glaring as the incongruity of the parts. 
 There is no greater waste of time and talent than in making 
 ingenious changes upon works that in character have become 
 like a once living, but now dead language. If there were any 
 eclat attending it, the same industry would be employed upon a 
 Chinese puzzle, or in indiscriminately copying Egyptian hiero- 
 glyphics, without regard to their meaning. 
 
 918. This bust presents another example of a mixed charac- 
 ter embodied in one representation ; a very common error of 
 modern artists who attempt to illustrate the ideal conceptions 
 belonging to ages past, and which people of the present time 
 can but imperfectly comprehend. In attempting something 
 new in that field, the artist can, with his best effort, make but 
 an unmeaning variation upon ancient works of art, which will 
 serve to show how little he comprehends his subject, and how 
 limited his ability in the representation of it. (y) 
 
 919. Canova attached much importance to composition, and 
 in speaking of West's pictures remarked, " He groups ; he does 
 not compose." 
 
 920. Many will remember a statue executed by Canova, for 
 the State of North Carolina.* The face bore the likeness of 
 the father of our country, and its first president, or chief magis- 
 trate. The artist represented him seated, and holding a tablet 
 on which he was writing. His costume was emblematic of war, 
 
 * Unfortunately destroyed by fire. 
 
SCULPTURE. 267 
 
 suited to the warrior and the warrior only. Here was embo- 
 died the artist's conception of a warrior and lawgiver. For 
 this purpose, nothing could have been more simple, more suit- 
 able, or more expressive than the seated figure with its chosen 
 accessories. The following description of it, by a lady of North 
 Carolina, will be read with interest : 
 
 921. "This beautiful specimen of the sculptural art, re- 
 ceived its first lines and last finish from Canova, Prince of 
 Ischia. This celebrated man has been compared to Praxitiles, 
 and Phidias, and the statue and pedestal are said by connois- 
 seurs in the fine arts, to be finished with a boldness of outline, 
 and a delicacy of taste, which rank them with the choicest spe- 
 cimens of antiquity. 
 
 922. " The likeness is good, nor could it well have been 
 otherwise, for it was copied from a bust in Gesso, taken from 
 life by the celebrated Cenacci, when in this country. The fig- 
 ures on the four sides of the pedestal are the production of 
 Trantanore, the favorite pupil of Canova, and are in basso- 
 relievo. They are formed and grouped with the most exquisite 
 taste, and commemorate the four great events, civil and military, 
 in the life of the illustrious man they are intended to celebrate ; 
 viz., First, the surrender of Cornwallis. Second, the resigna- 
 tion of General Washington at the close of the war. Third, 
 represents the hero, like Cincinnatus, holding the plough on his 
 return to private life. Fourth, in the act of accepting the pres- 
 idency of the United States. The statue and pedestal are of 
 the whitest and purest marble. The general is represented in 
 a sitting posture, with a stylus in his hand, writing his farewell 
 address."* 
 
 923. In regard to the finish of the work, the same general 
 rules that govern the art of painting apply also to sculpture. 
 Before pronouncing judgment upon the finish of a work, 
 or the style of execution, it is necessary to consider the 
 
 * Dated, Raleigh, N. C., Dec. 24th, 1821. 
 
268 
 
 STUDY OF ART. 
 
 position for which it is designed, as well as the distance from 
 which it should be seen. If the distance of the point of view, 
 from the object is equal to three times its height, the eye will 
 compass its true proportions. Without reference to this rule, 
 people stand within arm's length of the Laocoon, and exclaii 
 "What hillocks of flesh!" 
 
 924. Phidias and one of his scholars, Alcamenes, were eac 
 commissioned to make a statue of Minerva, which was to be 
 placed upon a column of great height ; and when both were 
 completed, the public were to decide the choice between the 
 two. On their being exhibited, Alcamenes' statue was prefer- 
 red for its beauty of finish, and that of Phidias rejected because 
 of its coarse and rough surface. They were then elevated to 
 the position for which they were designed, when it was seen at 
 once, that the highly finished work of Alcamenes lost all char- 
 acter in the distance, while the energy and force still exhibited 
 in that of Phidias, proved the mature judgment and vigorous 
 hand of the master, and the decision was immediately reversed. 
 
 [The subject of Sculpture will be more fully treated in a future work.] 
 THE END. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 (a.) 
 
 ( 2). Among the ancient Greeks, all works that required skill of 
 hand, were regarded as works of Art and all who attained this 
 skill, from the sculptor to the sadler, were called artists. Those 
 nations who in the progress of cultivation followed the Greeks, imi- 
 tating their arts, multiplied terms of distinction, as Fine Arts, and 
 Mechanic Arts, with their subdivisions. The spirit of the 19th cen- 
 tury gives birth to still more, and we now have " high art ;" imply- 
 ing the existence of low art, (which perhaps few will deny) with 
 other terms equally suitable and indispensable, as for instance, Prae 
 Raphselitism. 
 
 " Six of the ancient Greek Arts were subordinate to Musica, or 
 Harmonia ; three of which taught all kinds of composition, and three 
 all kinds of execution. With regard to composition they were divi- 
 ded into the MelopatOj the Rythmica. and the Poetica. 
 
 " The Melopeeia included instruction in the composition of music, 
 in recitation and declamation. 
 
 c: The Rythmica prescribed rules for reducing the motions of the 
 body, and the modulations of the voice to a certain measure, which 
 the recitor, the gesticulator, the chorus, and the instrumental players, 
 were all obliged to observe as a common rule. 
 
 Seneca says : " 'Tis surprising to see the gesture of the eminent 
 comedians on the stage overtake and even keep pace with speech, 
 notwithstanding the velocity of the tongue." Cicero says : " that a 
 comedian who dropped a gesture out of time, was hissed as much as 
 one who was mistaken in pronouncing a verse." Lucian observes 
 also : " that a gesture not in the proper measure, was considered a 
 
270 APPENDIX. 
 
 capital fault in an actor, which occasioned the proverb amoi 
 Greeks, ' to commit a solecism with the hand'' " 
 
 ' The Poetica taught the art of composing verses to measure. 
 Among the Greeks poetica and poetic music were the same. By the 
 Romans it was divided into the art of making metrical verses and 
 of composing melody. 
 
 " In regard to execution, musica was divided into the odical, or 
 art of singing ; the organical, or art of playing upon instruments ; and 
 the hypocritical, (so called because it properly belonged to the come- 
 dians, who by the Greeks were called counterfeiters) which taught 
 the art of gesture by rules established on certain principles. Both 
 by the Greeks and Romans this art was called dancing. 
 
 " Musica or Harmonia gave methodical lessons on so many sub- 
 jects, that the Greeks attached great importance to a knowledge of it. 
 Aristidcs Quintilianus says that ' music is an art necessary to all 
 ages in life. That to be an orator a person must understand music ; 
 that without it he cannot be a good grammarian, because grammar 
 cannot be properly taught without the use of metre and rhythmus. He 
 also observes, that in former times, the professions of teaching music 
 and grammar were united and practiced by the same master.' All 
 the writings of the ancients show that music was considered an in- 
 dispensable study, and that those who were ignorant of the laws of 
 Musica or Harmonia, were regarded like the illiterate of our own 
 day who can neither read nor write." Du Bos on the Fine Arts. 
 
 (b.) 
 
 ( 9.) "The Pantomimic Art, or the art of representing all theatri- 
 cal subjects without speaking, originated in Rome, under the Empe- 
 ror Augustus. " Hence," Lucian says, that " Socrates had seen the 
 art of dancing only in its infancy." To signify that the Pantomimes 
 acted a piece, it was usual to say that they danced it. The gesticu- 
 lations were borrowed from the Emmelia used in tragedy ; the Cordax 
 in comedy; and the Sicinnis in satire. Those peculiar to the Roman 
 players were called Italica. 
 
 " The gesticulator, who accompanied the ancient comedian, was pro- 
 perly a pantomime, or dumb actor. The pantomimes acted entire plays. 
 Their motions were made to music ; the expression depended entirely 
 on signs and gestures ; nothing was conveyed by the expression of 
 
APPENDIX. 271 
 
 the lace, because they wore masks. Lucian says, that the spectators 
 wept al, the representations of the pantomimes as well as those of 
 other comedians ; and the pantomimes sometimes so worked upon each 
 other as to shed tears themselves. 
 
 The Romans became so passionately interested and absorbed in the 
 pantomimic representations, and such serious evils grew out of them 
 that the pantomimes were repeatedly banished from Rome. Once 
 under Nero." Du Bos. 
 
 This, like all other arts had its influence upon the character and 
 manners of the people, and probably gave rise to that habit of gesti- 
 culation, and those expressive signs that accompany the language 
 of common intercourse among the people of Southern Europe, 
 
 w 
 
 ($ 49.) This law of harmony is universal. We find it in nature ; 
 we find it in the artistic productions of every age and nation ; and 
 we find it pervading life. Take, for instance, the straight-backed 
 chairs, etc., of the last century, belonging to the Puritan times, so 
 perfectly in keeping with the simple elegance of costume, and stately 
 manners of that day, and the profuse toilet that belonged to the time 
 of Charles II, all of which were in keeping. Let us observe how 
 perfectly the style of each corresponded with the character of the 
 people by whom it was adopted, or rather with whom it originated, 
 and we find abundant evidence of this universal law of harmony. 
 
 ( 79.) Natives of a limestone country are said to have but lit- 
 tle vivacity, either physical or mental. Horses of the same region 
 are solid and heavy, having nothing of the fleetness of the Arabian 
 steed, reared in the sandy desert. 
 
 ( 85). ' Musical instruments are to music, what tools are to a han- 
 dicraft employment. They are invented and perfected according to 
 the development of music : but, as the tools influence the handicraft, 
 so musical instruments in their turn react on the character of the 
 
272 APPENDIX. 
 
 music, and impart to it a distinctive character, leading even to con- 
 siderable modifications in its general features, and thus form an im- 
 portant agency in the whole development of the art. We have only 
 to remind our readers of the connection between the grand Erard 
 pianos of seven octaves, and the new piano- forte schools. We need 
 scarcely ask, could the one exist without the other ? We can thus 
 trace the action of the musical instruments in the national music of 
 all countries, and in most instances, we can discern in the character 
 of the music r the nature of the instruments that serve to express it. 
 In every Spanish air, we hear the sighing of the mandolin, or the 
 clinking of the castanet ; in the Venetian, we have the dreamy sound 
 of the guitar ; in the Swiss, the echo of the bugle, and who could 
 mistake in Scotch music the drone of that old worthy, the bagpipe ? 
 It seems growling at the follies of the small reeds, while it accom- 
 panies their mad leaps with its uniform and benignant hum, and 
 largely contributes to the humorous effect by the contrast it presents 
 to the quick, high notes of Scotch tunes." North British Review, Feb. 
 1854. 
 
 ($ 114.) The Jews here are spoken of nationally, not forgetting the 
 eminent musical composers to whom the world is indebted. 
 
 Flaxman says, " Were we to search with the most scrutinizing 
 diligence for some specimens of ancient Jewish art, only three could 
 be produced the piece of money called a shekel, bearing a cup on 
 one side, and an almond branch on the other the candlestick with 
 seven branches and the table of show bread, on a bas-relief under 
 the arch of Titus. The porticos of tombs in Palestine, which have 
 been published, bear a strong appearance of Greek restoration." 
 
 fe.) 
 
 ( 259.) It is nearly impossible in a work of this size to include 
 illustrations suitable for study, therefore it is not attempted. The 
 student who wishes to excel as an artist, will study anatomy with 
 " knife in hand," so far as practicable. Those who do, as well as 
 those who do not pursue this method, will find it well to have maps 
 of large size representing the skeleton and the principal external 
 
APPENDIX. 273 
 
 muscles, constantly in view in the studio, until they are able to de- 
 lineate them correctly from memory. This skill qualifies the artist 
 to study the effect of the muscular action peculiar to people of dif- 
 ferent temperaments and various occupations, whenever occasion re- 
 quires. 
 
 " Fau's Anatomy of the External Forms of Man," with the port- 
 folio of plates accompanying it, Ci intended for the use of artists, 
 painters, and sculptors," is the most complete work published on the 
 subject. Haydon's Lectures on Anatomy are clear and forcible, and 
 will be studied with advantage. 
 
 If any one questions the importance of anatomical knowledge to 
 the artist, let him look at the figures in Boydell's Shakspeare, placed 
 in attitudes that no muscles or joints could assume, much less main- 
 tain. Let him consider also, whether people would be saved from 
 imposition, acd a worse than useless expenditure of money, if draw- 
 ing were taught as it should be, in all schools and by competent 
 teachers. For some figures in that extraordinary production, judging 
 from their impossible positions, and positive meagerness, one would 
 suppose that the artists, in their models, must have been limited to 
 dancing-jacks. 
 
 The chapters on Anatomy are prepared principally from the 
 authors above referred to, with reference to the use of classes under 
 my own tuition, referring to the skeleton maps for illustration. 
 
 Allston's Lectures cannot be too much studied. A superficial 
 reading will give no idea of their merit and value. It is no dispa- 
 ragement to the young to say that they cannot fully appreciate them. 
 Their philosophical depth will be better comprehended and enjoyed 
 in maturity. 
 
 (h.) 
 
 ($ 300.) The importance of rules is fully and freely acknowledged in 
 the compositions of every art but that of painting. Why should this 
 one be made an exception? In poetry false metre is considered un- 
 pardonable, because it destroys the harmony of the verse. Music 
 that is not true to key and measure, is condemned for its discords. A 
 large and imposing picture, on the contrary, in the execution of which 
 every rule of art is violated, is exhibited to the public, commands the 
 admiration of the ignorant multitude, and the few who venture to 
 
 12* 
 
274: APPENDIX. 
 
 question its merit are called " hyper-critical." A person who sings, 
 or plays on an instrument guided "by his ear alone, ignorant of every 
 rule of music, would hardly be considered authority in judging the 
 merits of an opera. Yet, many who are equally ignorant of the 
 rules of art are regarded as infallible judges of the merits of its 
 various productions. 
 
 What does not literature owe to the critics ? And what would 
 contribute so much to the progress of art or the interests of artists as 
 a critical public ? Not captious and fault-finding, but who from 
 knowledge of the subject, are capable of forming a true judgment. 
 
 ( 352.) The atmosphere absorbs light, hence the color of the sky. 
 
 " It has been calculated that if the amosphere in its present state 
 could be extended 700 miles above the earth's surface instead of 40, 
 as it is at present, that the sun's rays could not penetrate it, and this 
 globe would revolve in darkness and silence, a dead waste. The same 
 calculation shows that sea- water loses its transparency at the depth 
 of 370 feet." Robt. Hunt. 
 
 Sea-shells at a certain depth are colorless. Sea- weeds vary ac- 
 cording to their proximity to the shore ] of course, to the surface of 
 the water. When dried, exposed to the sun, they gain much in color. 
 
 ( 370.) One subterfuge of ignorance is as good as another , and this 
 reminds us of a portrait painter once, employed to paint the likeness 
 of a boy, who finding the representation of the hands beyond the limit 
 of his skill, concealed them both in the sitter's pockets. 
 
 (*.) 
 
 ( 402.) Morland is said to have followed the same practice. He 
 was once recognized on the Isle of Wight in a low public house, with 
 a number of fishermen and sailors, in the midst of whom he was 
 contributing his joke. The next day his friend remonstrated with 
 him for keeping such low company. He drew a sketch book from his 
 pocket, and asked where he was to find so true a picture of humble 
 
APPENDIX. 275 
 
 life, unless it was in such a place. The sketch was a correct de- 
 lineation of every object in the tap-room, even to a stool or settee, a 
 countenance and attitude. This representation his memory had sup- 
 plied after leaving the house, and one of his best pictures is the 
 very scene he then sketched. Fusel? s Pilkington's Dictionary. 
 
 This truth to nature gives to Morland's pictures intrinsic merit, to 
 which he has added an ideal beauty that will ensure them immor- 
 tality. They will outlast Turner's, because his pictures have not 
 the same truth to nature. 
 
 ( 480.) On this point as well as others, this work merely furnishes 
 hints for study. Nature is always at hand with her infinite variety. 
 The student will find that this law of unity found in nature, governs 
 other arts. As for instance the finest poetry is not set to powerful 
 music ; one or the other must be subordinate. 
 
 (m.) 
 
 ( 482.) Effect, though an essential element of the pleasing, both in 
 nature and art, admits of no explanation. If an artist has not an 
 eye for effect, or the power of perception by which alone it can be 
 understood, it must ever be to his mind an unsolved mystery. 
 
 (n.) 
 
 ($ 517.) Cartoon, a drawing or painting upon large paper, usually 
 made as patterns for painting in fresco, tapestry, mosaic, etc. The 
 outline is made the full size required, and neatly punctured with a 
 sharp point, and then transferred to the material used. The finest 
 works of this kind are those celebrated ones of Raffaelle, preserved 
 in the Royal palace of Hampton Court, called emphatically the Car- 
 toons. 
 
 ( 595.) Artists first introduced in their works a hand issuing from 
 a cloud, as a symbol of the Deity. Afterwards a head ; and gra- 
 dually the whole figure. 
 
276 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ($ 630.) Benjamin West in remarking upon the obelisk, carric 
 from Egypt to Rome in the time of Augustus, said that the hiero- 
 glyphics appeared so exactly to resemble the figures in the wampum 
 belts of the Indians, that it occurred to him if ever the mysteries of 
 Egypt were interpreted, it might be by the aborigines of America. 
 
 ( 634.) The Roman style revived in the 16th century, was called 
 the Renaissance. It was also called Cinque Ponto, from the change 
 having commenced in the 1 5th century. 
 
 to 
 
 ( 669.) " Various authors point out the resemblance of many of the 
 old Italian pictures of the Madonna and Infant Savior to the ancient 
 Egyptian paintings representing Isis and her offspring and there 
 can be little doubt, especially where the Madonna and child are 
 painted black, that they are copies from original pictures, and painted 
 long after the Christian era." 
 
 ( 697.) The funeral pile was a hundred feet square, and when 
 completely lighted, the flames would naturally take a form that 
 would suggest the idea of a pyramid. 
 
 It is supposed that in form, the obelisk is a symbol of a ray of 
 light. 
 
 (0. 
 
 ( 698.) " When drapery was given to Jupiter it was red ; Juno's 
 vestments were sky-blue, and sometimes a white veil j to Neptune, 
 sea-green ; this color belonged also to the nereids and sea-nymphs ; 
 the mantle of Apollo was blue or violet ; that of Bacchus was white ; 
 green was assigned to Cybele ; flame color to Pallas ; and Venus (in 
 a painting at Herculaneum,) is in flowing drapery of golden yellow." 
 
APPENDIX. 277 
 
 (u.) 
 
 (767.) Crosses of elaborate workmanship in the Gothic style of 
 Architecture, erected by Edward 1st, on the spot where the body of 
 Queen Eleanor rested on its way to London. 
 
 ( 772.) Pliny and Philostratus relate that the dragons of Ethiopia 
 were twenty ells in length, and mentions one that had been seen in 
 the Indies, seventy ells in length, with eyes as large as a Macedo- 
 nian buckler. It existed in the time of Alexander the Great, resided 
 in a cavern from which it only put forth its head, and received divine 
 honors. Others are described as equally marvellous that are attri- 
 buted to the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus. 
 
 (w). 
 
 (849.) A statue in the Boston Athenaeum, called the "Ship- 
 wrecked Mother," is so obtrusively nude, that if each visitor were 
 separately asked to furnish an epitaph, the one naturally and uni- 
 versally suggested would be, naked earnest thou into the world, and 
 naked shalt thou depart from it. 
 
 to 
 
 ( 915.) The committee awarding the prizes offered the sum of 
 $200 for a medal design that should " best express the objects of the 
 Institution. 1 ' There were some eighty offered to them for examina- 
 tion. Ever since the publication of the one chosen, our admiration 
 has been divided between the artistic skill exhibited in the design, 
 and the taste that decided the selection. The reverse admits of no 
 description. The numerous advertisements in the Railway Guides 
 furnish abundant representations of it, where it bears a decided re- 
 semblance to a certain coin called a " red cent." We beg leave to 
 state that it cannot be claimed as a specimen of Yankee Art, being 
 the production of an Englishman. 
 
278 APPENDIX. 
 
 ($918.) The explanation to these ancient fables is perhaps best 
 given in the works of the sculptors of antiquity, who might have 
 been co-eval with their invention. A representation of Medusa 
 found in Worlidge's " Antique Gems," represents her as very hand- 
 some, apparently unconscious of the transformation that has already 
 commenced in her beautiful locks, and so perfectly self-complacent 
 in expression that the idea suggested is, that the serpent, the emblem 
 of evil, there lies concealed. This representation of Medusa is 
 probably according to the fable, that her beautiful locks were 
 changed to serpents by Minerva, whose temple she had profaned in 
 company with Neptune. It exhibits nothing terrific, no power of 
 changing to stone is suggested to the mind, yet in the fable, the 
 moral, less literal maybe, that indulgence in vicious pleasure deadens 
 the natural tastes and affections, or in other words, changes the 
 heart to stone. 
 
 In the description of the Medusa slain by Perseus, who had the 
 power of changing the beholder to stone, she is described as having 
 serpents instead of hair ; and a body covered with scales that termi- 
 nated in the tail of a serpent. May not this be one form of the 
 myth of the dragon, the symbol of sin and evil ? Perseus, armed 
 and protected by the gods, who ever guard heroic virtue, resolutely 
 avoided looking upon her, and cut off her head. Still, her power 
 was not destroyed, for according to the fable, the serpents that fill 
 the deserts of Lybia sprang from her blood. 
 
MISS M. A.. 
 
 f IMSEIira (DIP ADMP, 
 2t Ww Stiffen'* School, fleto ifoben, COM., 
 
 Respectfully gives notice, that any ladies wishing to receive 
 instruction in Practical Drawing, can join Classes now under 
 tuition ; or, they can, if preferred, receive private lessons. 
 
 The method of teaching adopted is, first, the study of form 
 from the model, and then from life. 
 
 Classes are also formed for familiar Lectures upon Art. 
 The subjects of the course for the school year, are Painting, 
 twelve lectures Sculpture and Architecture, twelve lectures 
 Antiquities and History of Art, twelve lectures. 
 
 TEEMS. 
 
 PRACTECAL DRAWING, $12 for twenty-four Lessons. 
 FAMILIAR LECTURES ON ART, $6 for a course, including 
 twelve lectures. 
 
 NEW HAVEN, December 6, 1855. 
 
 Within a few months past, I have had the pleasure of becoming ac- 
 quainted with Miss DWIGHT'S method of teaching Drawing, and have 
 watched with great interest the progress of several of her pupils. 
 
 I am entirely satisfied that her method is far better than the one commonly 
 practised, (that of teaching to draw from copies,) and that the progress of 
 her pupils has been very satisfactory. Miss Dwight uniformly excites the 
 enthusiasm of her scholars, and, at the same time, gives them accurate and 
 clear views of art, while the method she adopts is fitted to make them capable 
 of executing any kind of drawing with self-reliance and with pleasure. 
 
 N. PORTER. 
 
 NEW HAVEN, CONN., Nov. 21, 1855. 
 
 To Miss DWIGHT, I take pleasure in expressing the gratification with 
 which I have listened to your Course of Lectures upon Art, and with which 
 I have heard a full statement of the method of instruction which you pursue 
 both in Lecturing and Teaching. The information which you give, in so 
 condensed a manner, is not within the reach of most persons in this country, 
 but it seems to me precisely what is needed by those who hope to visit the 
 galleries of Europe, or who desire to appreciate good pictures at home. In 
 visiting museums abroad with American travelers, I have often heard ex- 
 pressed the regret that the opportunity had not been enjoyed in this country 
 of studying just such topics as you are accustomed to discuss before yout 
 various classes. Very respectfully, yours, 
 
 DANIEL C. OILMAN. 
 
A LIST 
 
 NEW WORKS 
 
 IN GENERAL I^ITERATUBE* 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 D. AFPLETON & COMPANY, 
 
 846 & 848 Broadway. 
 
 %* Complete Catalogues, containing futt descriptions, to le had on appUoc&o* io 
 the Publishers. 
 
 Agriculture and Rural Affairs. 
 
 Boussingault's Rural Economy, . . . 1 25 
 
 The Poultry Book, illustrated. . . . 5 00 
 
 Waring's Elements of Agriculture, . . 75 
 
 Arts, Manufactures, and Architec- 
 ture. 
 
 Appleton's Dictionary of Mechanics. 2 vols. . 12 00 
 " Mechanics' Magazine. 3 vols. each, 3 50 
 
 Allen's Philosophy of Mechanics, . . . 3 50 
 
 Arnot's Gothic Architecture, . . . . 4 00 
 
 Bassnett's Theory of Storms, . . . 1 00 
 
 Bourne on the Steam Engine, .... 75 
 
 Byrne on Logarithms, 1 00 
 
 Chapman on the American Rifle, . , . 1 25 
 
 Coming's Preservation of Health, . ' . . 75 
 
 Cullum on Military Bridges, . . . . 2 00 
 
 Downing's Country Houses, . . . . 4 00 
 
 Field's City Architecture 2 00 
 
 Griffith's Marine Architecture, . . . 10 00 
 
 Gillespie's Treatise on Surveying, . 
 
 Haupt's Theory of Bridge Construction, . . 3 00 
 
 Henck's Field-Book for R. Road Engineers, . 1 75 
 
 Hoblyn'i Dictionary of Scientific Tei 
 
 Huff's Manual of Electro-Physiology, 
 
 Jeffers' Practice of Naval Gunnery, 
 
 Knapen's Mechanics' Assistant, 
 
 Lafever's Modern Architecture, 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 25 
 
 2 50 
 1 00 
 4 (0 
 
 1 75 
 
 2 25 
 2 00 
 1 00 
 
 Lyell's Manual of Geology, . 
 " Principles of Geology, . 
 
 Reynold's Treatise on Handrailing, 
 
 Templelon's Mechanic's Companion, 
 
 TJro's Dict'ry of Arts, Manufactures, <tc. 2 voli. 5 00 
 
 Youmans' Class-Book of Chemistry. . . 75 
 
 " Atlas of Chemistry, cloth, . . 2 00 
 
 Alcohol, 50 
 
 Biography. 
 
 Arnold's Life and Correspondence, . . , 2 00 
 
 Capt. Canot, or Twenty Years of a Slaver, . 1 25 
 
 Cousin's De Longueville, 1 00 
 
 Croswell's Memoirs, 2 00 
 
 Evelyn's Life of Godolphin, .... 50 
 
 Garland's Life of Randolph 1 50 
 
 Gilfillan's Gallery of Portraits. 2d Series, . 1 00 
 
 Hernan Cortez's Life, . 38 
 Hull's Civil and Military Life, . . . .200 
 
 Life and Adventures of Daniel Boone, . . 38 
 
 Life of H< nry Hudson, 38 
 
 Life of Capt. John Smith, .... 38 
 Moore's life of George Castriot, . . .100 
 
 Napoleon's Memoirs. By Ducheto D'Abrantes, 400 
 
 Napoleon By Laurent L'Ardeche, . . . 3 00 
 PiakneytW.) Life. By his Nephew. . .200 
 
 Party Lejiders : Lives of Jefferson, &c. . . 1 CO 
 
 Southey't Life of Oliver Cromwell, . . 38 
 
 WvEts's Lives of Eminent Men, . . . 1 00 
 
 Webnter s Life and Memorials. 2 vols. . . 1 00 
 
 Books of General Utility. 
 
 Arpletocs' Southern and Western Guide, . 1 00 
 
 " Northern and Eastern Guide, . 1 25 
 
 Appletons' Complete U. S. Guide, . 
 
 PP Map of N. Y. City, . . 
 American Practical Cook Book, 
 A Treatise on Artificial Fish-Breeding, . 
 Chemistry of Common Life. 2 vols. 12mo. 
 Cooley's Book of Useful Knowledge, 
 Cust's Invalid's Own Book, . 
 Delisser's Interest Tables, . . ; 
 The English Cyclopaedia, per vol. . . 
 Miles on the Horsed Foot, 
 
 t M 
 
 S6 
 
 60 
 4 00 
 2 50 
 
 25 
 
 The Nursery Basket. A Book for Young Mothers, 38 
 Pell's Guide for the Young, .... 38 
 
 Reid's New English Dictionary, 
 
 Stewart's Stable Economy. 
 
 Spalding's Hist, of English Literature, 
 
 Soyer's Modern Cookery, . . . 
 
 The Successful Merchant, 
 
 Thomson on Food of Animals, .... 50 
 
 Commerce and Mercantile Affairs. 
 
 Anderson's Mercantile Correspondence, . . 1 00 
 
 Delisser's Interest Tables, . . . . 4 00 
 
 Merchants' Reference Book. . . . . 4 00 
 Gates' (Geo.) Interest Tables at 6 Per Cent. 
 
 per Annum. 8vo 2 00 
 
 " " Do. do. Abridged edition, . 1 25 
 
 " " 7 Per Cent. Interest Tables, . 2 00 
 
 " Abridged 1 25 
 
 Smith's Mercantile Law, 4 00 
 
 Geography and Atlases. 
 
 Appleton's Modern Atlas. 34 Maps, . . 3 50 
 
 " Complete Atlas. 61 Maps, . . 9 00 
 
 Atlas of the Middle Ages. By Kreppen, . 4 50 
 
 Black's General Atlas. 11 Maps, . . . 12 00 
 
 Cornell's Primary Geography, ... 60 
 
 " Intermediate Geography, . . , 
 
 High School Geography, . 
 
 History. 
 
 Arnold's History of Rome, 
 
 " Later Commonwealth, 
 
 " Lectures on Modern History, 
 Dew's Ancient and Modern History, 
 
 Koeppen's History of the Middle Ages. 2 vols. 2 50 
 
 * The same, folio, with Map, . . 4 50 
 
 Kohlrausch's History of Germany, . . . 1 50 
 
 Mahon's (Lord) History of England, 2 vol*. . 4 00 
 
 Michelet's History of France, 2 vols. . . 3 50 
 
 4< History of the Roman Republic, . 1 00 
 
 Rowan's History of the French Revolution, . 63 
 
 Sprague's History of the Florida War, . . 2 50 
 
 Taylor's Manual of Ancient History, . . 1 26 
 
 " Manual of Modern History, . . 1 50 
 
 " Manual of History. 1 vol. complete, 2 60 
 
 Thiers' French Revolution. 4 vols. Illustrated, 5 00 
 
 Illustrated Works for Presents. 
 
 Bryant's Poems. 16 niuitrations. 8vo. cloth, . 3 50 
 
 cloth, gilt, . 4 50 
 mor. antique, 6 00 
 
 8 00 
 
 2 50 
 
 1 25 
 
 . 2 00 
 
D. Appleton & Company's List of New Works. 
 
 British Artv 30 Engravings. 1 vol. 4to. 
 
 BOTMOO 18 00 
 
 Gray's K.lr-y. Illustrated. 8vo. . . . 1 60 
 Goldsmith's IVsertrd Village, . . . 1 60 
 Tlu- H..mes of American Authors. With Illus- 
 trations, cloth, 4 00 
 
 cloth, gilt, 5 00 
 
 " mor. antqe. 7 00 
 
 The Holy Gopels. With 40 Designs by Over- 
 beck. 1 vol. folio. Antique mor. . . 20 00 
 The Land of Bondage. By 3. M. Wainwright, 
 
 D. D. Morocco, 00 
 
 ! The Queens of England. By Agnes Strickland. 
 
 With 29 Portraits. Antique mor. . . 10 00 
 1 The Ornaments of Memory. With 18 Illustra- 
 tions. 4to. cloth, gilt, . . . . 6 00 
 Morocco, . . 10 00 
 j Royal Gems from the Galleries of Europe. 
 
 / 40 Engravings, 25 00 
 
 I The Republican Court ; or, American Society 
 in the Days of Washington. 21 Portraits. 
 
 , Antique mor 1Q 00 
 
 i The Vernon Gallery. 67 Engrav'gs. 4to. Ant. 25 00 
 t The Women of the Bible. With 18 Engrav- 
 ings. Mor. antique, 10 00 
 
 Wilkie Gallery. Containing 60 Splendid En- 
 gravings. 4to. Antique mor. . . . 25 00 
 A Winter Wreath of Summer Flowers. By 
 
 S. G. Goodrich. Illustrated. Cloth, gilt, . 3 00 
 
 Juvenile Books. 
 
 A Poetry Book for Children, .... 75 
 
 Aunt Fanny's Christmas Stories, ... 50 
 
 American Historical Tales, .... 75 
 
 UNCLE AMEREL'S STORY BOOKS. 
 
 The Little Gift Book. 18mo. cloth, . . 25 
 The Child's Story Book. Illust. 18mo. cloth, 25 
 Summer Holidays. ISmo. cloth, ... 25 
 Winter Holidays. Illutrated. 18mo. cloth, . 25 
 George's Adventures in the Country. Illustra- 
 ted. 18mo. cloth. 25 
 
 Christmas Stories. Illustrated. 18mo. cloth, . 25 
 
 Book of Trades, 60 
 
 Boys at Home. By the Author of Edgar Clifton, 75 
 
 Child's Cheerful Companion, .... 60 
 
 Child's Picture and Verse Book. 100 Engs. . 50 
 
 COUSIN ALICE'S WORKS. 
 
 All's Not Gold that Glitters. .... 75 
 
 Contentment Better than Wealth, . . 63 
 
 Nothing Venture, Nothing Have, , 63 
 
 No such W T ord as Fail, * . 63 
 
 Patient Waiting No Loss, . 63 
 
 Dashwood Priory. By the Author of Edga* 
 
 Clifton, ... . . . . 75 
 
 Edgar Clifton ; or Right and Wrong, . . 75 
 
 Fireside Fairies. By Susan Pindar, . . 63 
 
 Good in Every Thing. By Mrs. Barwell, . 50 
 
 Leisure Moments Improved, , . . ; 75 
 
 Life of Punchinello 75 
 
 LIBRARY FOR MY YOUNG COUNTRYMEN. 
 
 Adventures of Capt. John Smith. By the Au- 
 thor of Uncle Philip, .... 98 
 Adventures of Daniel Boone. By do. . . 38 
 Dawnings of Genius. By Anne Pratt, . . 88 
 Life and Adventures of Henry Hudson. By 
 
 the Author of Uncle Philip, ... 38 
 
 Life and Adventures of Heman Cortex. By do. 38 
 Philip Randolph. A Tale of Virginia. By 
 
 Mary Gertrude, 8 
 
 Rowan's Histosy of the French Revolution. 2 
 
 vols 75 
 
 Southey's Life of Oliver Cromwell, . . 38 
 
 Louis' School-Days. By E. J. May, . 75 
 
 Louise ; or. The IJeauty of Integrity, . 25 
 
 Maryatt's Settlers ir. Canada, ... . M 
 
 Masterman Ready (8 
 
 " Scenes in Africa, . .' . 68 
 
 Midsummer Fays. By Susan Pindar, . . fcfc 
 
 MISS MCINTOSH'S WORKS. 
 
 Aunt Kitty's Tales, I2mo. 75 
 Blind Alice ; A Tale for Good Children, . 
 Ellel Leslie j or, The Reward of Self-Control, 38 
 Florence Arnott; or, Is She Generous! . 38 
 Grace and Clara ; or, Be Just as well as Gen- 
 erous, 88 
 
 Jessie Graham ; or, Friends Dear, but Truth 
 
 Dearer, 39 
 
 Emily Herbert ; or, The Happy Home, . 87 
 
 Rose and Lillie Stanhope, . . . . 37 
 
 Mamma's Story Book 75 
 
 Pebbles from the Sea-Shore, .... 87 
 
 Puss in Boots. Illustrated. By Otto Specter, . 25 
 
 PETER PARLEY'S WORKS. 
 
 Faggots for the Fireside. .... 1 18 
 
 Parley's Present for all Seasons, . 1 00 
 
 Wanderers by Sea and I.and, ... 1 13 
 
 Whiter Wreath of Susrmer Flowers, . . 3 00 
 
 TALES FOR THE PEOPLE AND THEIR 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 Alice Franklin. By Mary Howitt, ... 
 Crofton Boys (The). By Harriet Martineau, . 
 
 Dangers of Dining Out. By Mra. Ellis, . . 38 
 
 Domestic Tales. By Hannah More. 2 vols. . 75 
 
 Early Friendship. By Mrs. Copley, . . 38 
 
 Farmer's Daughter (The). By Mrs. Cameron, 38 
 
 First Impressions. By Mrs. Ellis, . 
 
 Hope On. Hope Ever 1 By Mary Howitt, . 38 
 
 Little Com. Much Care. By do. ... 38 
 
 Looking-Glass for the Mind. Many plates, . 38 
 
 Love and Money. By Mary Howitt, . . 38 
 
 Minister's Family. By Mrs. Ellis, . . . 38 
 
 My Own Story. By Mary Howitt, ... 38 
 My 
 
 Uncle, the Clockmaker. By 
 No Sense Like Common Sense. By do. . 
 Peasant and the Prince. By H. Martineau, . 
 Poplar Grove. By Mrs. Copley, ... 
 rs. Ellis, . 
 
 Somerville Hall. By M 
 
 Sowing and Reaping. By Mary HowitL 
 
 Story of a Genius. ...... 38 
 
 Strive and Thrive. By do. .... 38 
 
 The Two Apprentices. By do. . . . 38 
 
 Tired of Housekeeping. By T. S. Arthur, . 88 
 
 Twin Sisters (The). By Mrs. Sandham, . 38 
 
 Which is the Wiser! By Mary Howitt, . 38 
 
 Who Shall be Greatest! By do. . . 38 
 
 Work and Wages. By do. . . . . 38 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 
 Chances and Changes. By Charles Burdett, . 38 
 
 Goldmaker's Village. By H. Zschokke, . 38 
 
 Never Too Late. By Charles Burdett, . . 38 
 Ocean Work, Ancient and Modern. By J. H. 
 
 Wright, ..... . . 38 
 
 Picture Pleasure Book, 1st Series, . . 1 25 
 
 " " " 2d Series, . . . 1 25 
 
 Robinson Crusoe. 300 Plates, . . . . 1 60 
 
 Susan Pindar's Story Book, . . . 76 
 
 Sunshine of Greystone, ..... 75 
 
 Travels of Bob the Squirrel ..... 87 
 
 Wonderful Storv Book, ..... 50 
 
 Willy's First Present, ..... 75 
 
 Week's Delight ; or, Games and Stories for the 
 
 Parlor, . ...... 75 
 
 William Tell, tho Hero of Switzerland, . . 50 
 
 Young Student. By Madame Guizot, . . Tl 
 
D. Appleton & Company's List of New Works. 
 
 Miscellaneous and General Litera- 
 ture. 
 
 An Attic Philosopher in Paris, ... 25 
 Appletons' Library Manual, . . . . 1 25 
 
 Agnell's Book of Chess, 1 25 
 
 Arnold's Miscellaneous Works, . . . 2 00 
 Arthur. The Successful Merchant, . . 75 
 A Book for Summer Time in the Country, . 60 
 Bald win's Flush Times in Alabama, . .125 
 Calhoun (J. C.), Works of. 4 vols. publ., each, 2 00 
 Clark's (W. G.) Knick-Knacks, . . 1 25 
 
 Cornwall's Music as it Was, and as it Is, . 63 
 Essays from the London Times. 1st & 2d Series, 
 
 :ach, 
 
 Ewbanks' World in a Workshop, . 
 Ellis' Women of England, . 
 
 " Hearts and Homes, .... 
 
 " Prevention Better than Cure, 
 Foster's Essays on Christian Morals, . 
 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield, . 
 Grant's Memoirs of an American Lady, . 
 Gaieties and Gravities. By Horace Smith, 
 Guizot's History of Civilization, 
 Hearth-Stone. By Rev. S. Osgood, . 
 Hobson. My Uncle and I, 
 
 Ingoldsby Legends, 
 Isham's Mi; - 
 
 1 90 
 
 ud Cabin, .... 
 Johnson's Meaning of Words, . 
 Kavanagh's Women of Christianity, 
 Lexer's Animal Magnetism, . . . 
 Life's Discipline. A Tale of Hungary, . 
 Letters from Rome. A. D. 138, 
 
 Margaret Maitland, 75 
 
 Maiden and Mamed Life of Mary Powell, . 60 
 Morton Montague ; or a Young Christian's 
 
 Choice, t 75 
 
 Macaulay's Miscellanies. 5 vols. . . . 6 00 
 
 Maxims of Washington. By J. F. Schroeder, 1 00 
 
 Mile Stones in our Life Journey, . . . 1 00 
 
 MINIATURE CLASSICAL LIBRARY. 
 
 Poetic Lacon ; or, Aphorisms from the Poets, 38 
 
 Bond's Golden Maxims, 31 
 
 Clarke's Scripture Promises. Complete, . 88 
 
 Elizabeth; or, The Exiles of Siberia, . . 31 
 
 Goldsmith'i Vicar of Wakefield, ... 38 
 
 Essays 38 
 
 Gems from American Poets, .... 38 
 
 Hannah More's Private Devotions, . . 81 
 
 " " Practical Piety. 2 vc?s. . 76 
 
 Hemans' Domestic Affections, .... 81 
 
 Hoffman's Lays of the Hudson, &c. . . 88 
 
 Johnson's History of Rasselas, ... 38 
 
 Manual of Matrimony 81 
 
 Moore's Lalla Rookh, 38 
 
 " Melodies. Complete, ... 38 
 
 Paul and Virginia, 31 
 
 Pollok's Course of Time, .... 88 
 
 Ptre Gold from the Rivers of Wisdom, . 88 
 
 Thomson's Seasons, 38 
 
 Token of the Heart. Do. of Affection. Do. 
 of Remembrance. Do. of Friendship. 
 
 Do. of Love. Each .31 
 
 Useful Letter- Writer, 38 
 
 Wilson's Sacra Privata, 31 
 
 Young's Night Thought*, .... 38 
 
 Little Pedlington and the Pedlingtonians, . 60 
 Prismatics. Tales and Poems, . . . 1 25 
 Papers from the Quarterly Review. . . 60 
 Republic of the United States. Its Duties, Ac. 1 00 
 Preservation of Health and Prevention of Dig- 
 ease, 75 
 
 School for Politics. By Chas. Gaverre, . . 75 
 
 Select Italian Comedies. Translated, . . 75 
 
 Shakespeare's Scholar. By R. G. White, . 2 60 
 
 Spectator (The). New ed. 6 vols. cloth, . 9 00 
 
 wett's Treatise on Diseases of the Chest, . 3 00 
 
 Stories from Blackwood, 50 
 
 THACKERAY'S WORKS. 
 
 The Book of Snobs, 
 
 Mr. Browne's Letters, .... 
 The Confessions of Fitzboodle, 
 The Fat Contributor, .... 
 Jeames' Diary. A Legend of the Rhine 
 The Luck of Barry Lyndon, . 
 
 Men's Wives, 
 
 The Paris Sketch Book. 2 vols. . 
 The Shabby Genteel Story, . 
 The Yellowplush Papers. 1 vol. 16iro. . 
 Thackeray's Works. 6 vols. bound in cloth, 
 
 Trescott's Diplomacy of the Revolution, 
 Tuckennan's Artist Life, . 
 Up Country Letters, .... 
 Ward's Letters >om Three Continents, . 
 " English Items, .... 
 Warner's Rudimental Lessons in Music, 
 Woman's Worth 
 
 Philosophical Works. 
 
 Cousin's Course of Modem Philosophy, . 
 
 " Philosophy of the Beautiful, . 
 
 " on the True, Beautiful, and Good, 
 Comte's Positive Philosophy. 2 vols. . 
 Hamilton's Philosophy. 1 vol. 8vo. . 
 
 Poetry and the Drama. 
 
 Amelia's Poems. 1 vol. 12mo. . . 
 
 Brownell's Poems. 12mo. 
 
 Bryant's Poems. 1 vol. 8vo. Illustrated, 
 
 " " 2 vols. 12mo. cloth, . 
 
 " " 1 vol. 18mo. 
 
 Byron's Poetical Works. 1 vol. cloth, . 
 
 " Antique mor. . 
 Burns' Poetical Works. Cloth, . . . 
 
 Butler's Hudibras. Cloth 
 
 Campbell's Poetical Works. Cloth, 
 Coleridge's Poetical Works. Cloth, 
 Cowper's Poetical Works, . 
 Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, . . 
 
 Dante's Poems. Cloth, 
 
 Dryden's Poetical Works. Cloth, . 
 Fay (J. S.), Ulric ; or, The Voices, 
 Goethe's Iphigenia in Tauris. Translated, . 
 Giffillan's Edition of the British Poets. 12 voh 
 published. Price per vol. cloth, . 
 
 Do. do. Calf, per vol 
 
 Griffith's (Mattie) Poems, . 
 Hemans' Poetical Works. 2 vols. 16mo. 
 Herbert's Poetical Works. 16mo. cloth, 
 Keats' Poetical Works. Cloth, 12mo. . 
 Kirke White's Poetical Works. Cloth, . 
 Lord's Poems. 1 vol. 12mo 
 
 " Christ in Hades. 12mo. 
 Milton's Paradise Lost. 18mo. 
 
 " Complete Poetical Works, 
 Moore'a Poetical Works. 8vo. Illustrated, . 
 
 " " " Mor. extra, . . 
 
 Montgomery's Sacred Poems. 1 vol. 12mo. . 
 Pope's Poetical Works. 1 vol. 16mo. . 
 Southey's Poetical Works. 1 vol. . 
 Spenser's Faerie Queene. 1 vol. cloth, . 
 Scott's Poetical Works. 1 vol. . . . . 
 
 " Lady of the Lake. 16mo. . 
 
 " Marmion, 
 
 " Lay of the Lust Minstrel, . 
 Shakspeare's Dramatic Works, . . 
 Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered. 1 vol. 16mo. . 
 Wordsworth (W.). The Prelude, . 
 
 Eeligious Works. 
 
 Arnold's Rugby School Sermons, . 
 Anthon's Catechism on the Homilies, . 
 
 " Early Catechism for Children, 
 Burnet's History of the Reformation. 3 vols. 
 
 " Thirty-Nine Articles, 
 
 50 
 60 
 60 
 60 
 50 
 
 1 00 
 50 
 
 1 00 
 60 
 60 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 1 00 
 
 1 00 
 
 50 
 
 800 
 62 
 1 50 
 4 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 25 
 75 
 
 3 50 
 6 00 
 
 2 00 
 63 
 
 3 00 
 6 00 
 1 00 
 1 00 
 1 00 
 1 25 
 1 00 
 1 
 
 1 00 
 
 1 00 
 
 73 
 
 T5 
 
 1 00 
 
 2 50 
 15 
 
 2 (0 
 1 10 
 1 25 
 1 00 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 38 
 
 1 00 
 
 8 00 
 6 00 
 
 75 
 1 00 
 
 3 00 
 1 00 
 1 00 
 
 38 
 37 
 25 
 
 9 00 
 1 00 
 1 00 
 
 60 
 
 06 
 
 (X 
 
 2 50 
 
 2 Kr 
 
D. Applet ou & Company's List of New Works. 
 
 Bradlev's Family and Parish Sermons, . . 2 00 
 
 Cotter's Mtti *ad Rubrics, .... 38 
 
 Coil's Puritanism, 1 00 
 
 Evans' Rectory of Valehead, .... 50 
 
 Grayson's True Theory of Christianity, . . 1 00 
 
 i Preaching 1 25 
 
 Griffin's Gospel it* Own Advocate, . . .100 
 
 Heeler's H,.,,k,.f th,- S.ml, . . 
 
 < .m^l.-te Work*. 2 voU. . . 4 00 
 
 .lanu's' Happiness, 25 
 
 James on the Nature of Evil, . . . . 1 00 
 
 Jarvis' Reply to Milner, 75 
 
 ty's Sacred Choir, 
 Keble's Christian Year ' 
 Luyman's Letters to a Bishop, 
 Logan's Sermons and Expository Lectures, 
 
 Lvra Apostolica, 
 
 Marshall's Notes on Episcopacy, 
 
 Newman's Sermons and Subjects of the Day, 
 
 rshall's Notes on Epii 
 
 Christian Doctrine, . 
 
 Ogilby on Lay Baptism, 
 Pearson on the Creed 
 
 Pulpit Cyclopaedia and Ministers' Companion, 
 Sewsll's Reading Preparatory to Confirmation, 
 Southard's Mystery ol Godliness, 
 Sketches and Skeletons of Sermons, 
 Spencer's Christian Instructed, 
 Sherlock's Practical Christian, 
 Sutton's Disce Vivere Learn to Li 
 Swartz's Letters to my Godchild, 
 Trench's Notes on the" Parables, 
 
 " Notes on the Miracles. 
 Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, 
 
 " Episcopacy Asserted and Maintained, 
 Tyng's Family Commentary, .... 
 Walker's Sermons on Practical Subjects, 
 
 Watson on Confirmation, 
 
 Wilberforce's Manual for Communicants, 
 Wilson's Lectures on Colossians, . . . 
 Wyatt's Christian Altar, 
 
 75 
 37 
 25 
 
 1 13 
 50 
 
 1 00 
 
 1 00 
 75 
 50 
 
 2 00 
 2 50 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 2 50 
 
 1 00 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 38 
 
 1 75 
 
 1 75 
 
 1 00 
 75 
 
 2 00 
 2 00 
 
 06 
 38 
 75 
 
 Voyages and [Travels. 
 
 Africa and the American Flag, . . . 1 25 
 
 Appletons' Southern and Western Guide, . 1 00 
 
 " Northern and Eastern Guide, . 1 25 
 
 " Complete U. S. Guide Book, . . 2 00 
 
 N. Y. City Map, .... 25 
 
 Bartlett's New Mexico, &c. 2 vols. Illustrated, 5 00 
 
 Bumet's N. Western Territory. . . . 2 00 
 
 Bryant's What I Saw in California, . . 1 25 
 
 Coggeshall's Voyages. 2 vols. . . . 2 50 
 
 Dix's Winter in Madeira, . . . . 1 00 
 
 Hue's Travels in Tartary and Thibet. 2 vols. 1 00 
 
 Layard's Nineveh. 1 vol. 8vo. . . . 1 25 
 
 Notes of a Theological Student. 12mo. . . 1 00 
 
 Oliphant's Journey to Katmumlu, ... 50 
 
 Parkyns' Abyssinia. 2 vols ..... 2 50 
 
 Russia as it Is. By Gurowski, . . . 1 00 
 
 " By Count de Custine ..... 1 25 
 
 Sqnier's Nicaragua. 2 vols ..... 5 00 
 
 Tappan's Step from the New World to the Old, 1 7S 
 
 Wanderings and Fortunes of Germ. Emigrants, 75 
 
 Williams' Isthmus of Tehuantepec. 2 vols. 8vo. 3 50 
 
 Works of Fiction. 
 
 GRACE AGUILAR'S WORKS. 
 
 The Dav of Bruce. 2 vols. 12mo. . 1 50 
 
 Home S'cenes and Heart Studies. 12mo. 
 The Mother's Recompense. 12mo. 
 Woman's Friendship. 12mo. 
 
 Women of Israel. 2 vols. 12mo. . 
 
 Buil. A Story of Modern Life. 12mo. . 
 Brace's Fawn of the Pale Faces. 12mo. 
 
 Busy Moments of an Idle Woman, . . 
 Chestnut Wood. A Tale. 2 vols. . 
 
 Don Qufacotte, Translated. Illustrated, . 
 
 Drury (A. H ). Light and Shade, . . 
 
 Dupuy(A. E.). The Conspirator, . . 
 
 Elten Parry ; or, Trials of the Heart, . 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 1 75 
 
 1 25 
 
 75 
 
 75 
 
 63 
 
 MRS. ELLIS' WORKS. 
 
 Hearts and Homes ; or, Social Distinctions, . 1 14 
 
 Prevention Better than Cure, ... 75 
 
 Women of England SO 
 
 Emmanuel Phillibert. By Dumas, . . . 1 25 
 
 Farmingdale. By Caroline Thomas, . . 1 00 
 
 Fullerton (Lady G.). Ellen Middleton, . 75 
 
 " " Grantley Manor. 1 vol. 
 
 12mo. . . . 78 
 
 ' Lady Bird. 1 vol. Umo. 75 
 
 The Foresters. By Alex. Dumas, ... 75 
 
 Gore (Mrs.). The Dean's Daughter. 1 vol. 15mo. 75 
 
 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield. 12mo. . 75 
 
 Gil Bias. With 500 Engravings. Cloth, gt.edg. 250 
 
 Harry Muir. A Tale of Scottish Life, . . 75 
 Hearts Unveiled ; or, I Knew You Would Like 
 
 Him 75 
 
 Heartsease ; or, My Brother's Wife. 2 rols. 1 50 
 
 Heir of Redelyfle. 2 vols. cloth, . . . 1 50 
 
 Heloise ; or, The UnreveaW Secret. 12mo. . 75 
 
 Hobson. My Uncle and I. 12mo. ... 75 
 
 Holmes' Tempest and Sunthioe. 12mo. . . 1 00 
 
 Home is Home. A Domestic Story, . . 75 
 
 Howitt (Mary). The Heir of West Wayland, 50 
 
 lo. A Tale of the Ancient Fane. 12mo. . 75 
 
 The Iron Cousin. By Mary Cowden Clarke. . 1 25 
 James (G. P. R.). Adrian ; or, Clouds of the 
 
 Mind, . . ... . . 75 
 
 John ; or, Is a Cousin in the Hand Worth Two 
 
 in the Bush, 25 
 
 JTJLIA KAVANAGH'SI WORKS. 
 
 Nathalie. A Tale. 12mo. 
 
 Madeline. 12mo 
 
 Daisy Burns. 12mo. 
 
 1 00 
 
 75 
 
 1 00 
 
 Life's Discipline. A Tale of Hungary, . 
 Lone Dove (The). A Legend, .... 
 Linuy Lockwood. By Catherine Crowe, 
 
 MISS MCINTOSH'S WORKS. 
 
 Two Lives; or, To Seem and To Be. 12mo. 
 
 Aunt Kitty's Tales. 12mo 
 
 Charms and Counter-Charms. 12mo. . . 
 Evenings at Donaldson Manor, . . . 
 The Lofty and the Lowly. 2 vols. . 
 
 Margaret's Home. By Cousin Alice, . . 
 Mane Louise ; or, The Opposite Neighbors, . 
 Maiden Aunt (The). A Story, 
 Manzoni. The Betrothed Lovers. 2 vols. 
 
 Margaret Cecil ; or, I Can Because I Ought, . 
 
 50 
 75 
 1 50 
 75 
 Morton Montague ;'or, The Christian'sChoice, 75 
 
 Norman Leslie. By G. C. H 75 
 
 Priamatics. Tales and Poems. By Haywarde, 1 25 
 [ontjoy. 12mo. . . 75 
 To Love and to Be Loved. 12mo. 75 
 Time and Tide. 12mo. . . 75 
 Reuben Medlicott ; or, The Coming Man, . 75 
 Rose Douglass. By S. R. W 75 
 
 MISS SEWELL S WORKS. 
 
 75 
 
 751 
 
 Amy Herbert. A Tale. 12mo. 
 
 Experience of Life. 12mo. . . i 
 
 Gertrude. A Tale. 12mo. 
 
 Katberine Ashton. 2 vols. 12mo. . . . 1 50 
 
 Laneton Parsonage. A Tale. 3 vols. 12m o. .2251 
 
 Margaret Percival. 2 vols 1 50 , 
 
 Walter Lorimer, and Other Tales. 12mo. . 75 I 
 
 A Journal Kept for Children of a Village SchoeL, 1 00 
 
 Sunbeams and Shadows. Cloth, ... 75 
 
 Thorpe's Hive of the Bee Hunter, . . . 1 00 
 
 Thackeray's Works. 6 vols. 12mo. . . 6 00 
 
 The Virginia Comedians. 2 vols. 12mo. . 1 M 
 
 Use of Sunshine. By S. M. 12mo. . . . 16 
 
 Wight's Romance of Abelard & Heloise. 12o. t5 
 
D. APPLETON & CO: 8 PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 The most Authentic and Entertaining Life of Napoleon. 
 
 Memoirs of Napoleon, 
 
 HIS COURT AND FAMILY. 
 
 BY THE DUCHESS D'ABRANTES, (MADAME JUNOT.) 
 Two Volumes, 8vo. 1134 pages. Price $4. 
 
 .CQittamtbr tit His Illustrate 
 
 JEROME BONAPARTE, 
 LOUIS BONAPARTE, 
 CARDINAL FESCH, 
 LOUISA, QUEEN OF PRUSSLt, 
 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 
 
 NAPOLEON. 
 JOSEPHINE. 
 MARIA LOUISA, 
 DUKE OF REICH8TADT, 
 
 LTTCIEN BONAPARTE, 
 MARSHAL JUNOT, 
 CHARLES BONAPARTE, 
 PAULINE BONAPARTE, 
 
 MADAME LAETITIA BONAPARTE, ELIZA BONAPARTE, 
 CHARLES BONAPARTE, 
 
 Probably no writer has had the same op- 
 portunities for becoming acquainted with 
 
 NAPOLEON THE GEEAT 
 as the Duchess D'Abrantes. Her mother 
 rocked him in his cradle, and when he 
 quitted Brienne and came to Paris, she guid- 
 ed and protected his younger days. Scarcely 
 a day passed without his visiting her house 
 during the period which preceded his depar- 
 ture for Italy as 
 
 COMMANDEE-IN-CHIEF. 
 Abundant occasion was therefore had for 
 watching the development of the great genius 
 who afterwards became tho master of the 
 greater part of Europe. 
 
 MAESHAL JUNOT, 
 
 who became allied to the author of this work 
 by marriage, was the intimate friend of Na- 
 poleon, and figured in most of the 
 
 BEILLIANT ENGAGEMENTS 
 which rendered him the greatest military 
 captain of the age. No interruption took 
 place in the intimacy which she enjoyed, so 
 that in all these scenes, embracing a period 
 of nearly 
 
 THIETY TEAES, 
 
 the Duchess became familiar with all the 
 secret springs of 
 
 NAPOLEON'S ACTIONS, 
 
 either through her husband or by her own 
 personal knowledge and observation at th 
 Court of Napoleon. 
 
 JOSEPHINE, 
 
 whose life and character so peculiarly attract 
 the attention of all readers, occupies a great 
 part of the first volume. The character and 
 the deeds of 
 
 THE EMPEEOES AND KINGS, 
 
 THE GEEAT MEN OF THE DAT, 
 
 THE MAESHALS OF THE EMPIEE, 
 
 THE DISTINGUISHED LADIES OF 
 
 THE COUET, 
 
 are described with minuteness, which pei 
 sonal observation only admits of. The work 
 is written in that 
 
 FAMILIAE GOSSIPING STYLE, 
 and so interspersed with anecdotes that the 
 reader never wearies. She has put every 
 thing in her book great events and small. 
 
 BATTLES AND BALLS, 
 COUET INTEIGUES AND BOUDOIR 
 
 GOSSIP, 
 TEEATIES AND FLIETATION8, 
 
 making two of the most charming volume* 
 of memoirs, which will juterest th reader 
 in spite of himself. 
 
 Opinions of the Press. 
 
 " These anecdotes of Napoleon are the best yet given to tho world, because the most 
 Intimate and familiar." London Literary Gazette. 
 
 u We consider the performance now before us as more authentic and amusing than any 
 ether of its kind." London Quarterly Review. 
 
 ** Every thing relating to Napoleon is eagerly sought for and read in this country as well 
 8 In Europe, and this work, with its extraordinary attractions, will not fail to command 
 a wide circulation. Madame Junot possessed qualifications for writing a semi-domestie 
 history of the great Corsican which no other person, male or female, could command," 
 llustrated, 
 
D. APPLETON & GO:S PUBLICATIONS. 
 A Work abounding in Exciting Scenes and Remarkable Incidents. 
 
 Capt. Canot ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 TWENTY YEARS OF AN AFRICAN SLAYER : 
 
 BEING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS OAEEEB AND ADVENTURES ON THE COAST, IU 
 THE INTERIOR, ON SHIPBOARD, AND IN THE WEST INDIES. 
 
 Written out and Edited from the Captain's Journals, Memoranda, and Conversation*, 
 
 BY BRANTZ MAYER. 
 One Volume, l2mo. "With eight Illustrations. Price $1 25. 
 
 Criticisms of the Press. 
 
 "The author is a literary gentleman of Baltimore, no Abolitionist, and we believe tLi 
 work, to be a truthful account of the life of a man who saw much more than falls to the lot 
 of most men." Commonwealth,. 
 
 " A remarkable volume is this ; because of its undoubted truth : it having been derived 
 by Mayer from personal conversations with Canot, and from journals which the slaver fur- 
 nished of his own life." Worcester Palladium. 
 
 " Capt Canot, the hero of the narrative, is, to our own knowledge, a veritable person- 
 age, and resides in Baltimore. There is no doubt that the main incidents connected with 
 his extraordinary career are in every respect true. ' Arthur's Home Gazette. 
 
 " Under one aspect, as the biography of a remarkable man who passed through a sin- 
 gularly strange and eventful experience, it is as interesting as any sea story that we have 
 ever read." Boston Evening Traveller. 
 
 " Capt. Canot has certainly passed through a life of difficulty, danger, and wild, daring 
 adventure, which has much the air of romance, and still he, or rather his editor, tells the 
 tale with so much straightforwardness, that we cannot doubt its truthfulness." New York 
 Sunday Despatch. 
 
 "The work could not have been better done if the principal actor had combined 
 the descriptive talent of De Foe with the astuteness of Fouche and the dexterity of GL 
 Bias, which traits are ascribed to the worthy whose acquaintance we shall soon make by 
 his admiring editor. 11 N. Y. Tribune. 
 
 " The general style of the work is attractive, and the narrative spirited and bold well 
 suited to the daring and hazardous course of life led by the adventurer. This book is illus- 
 trated by several excellent engravings.'' Baltimore American. 
 
 'The biography of an African slaver as taken from his own lips, and giving his adven- 
 tures in this traffic for twenty years. With great natural keenness of perception and com* 
 plete communicativeness, he has literally unmasked his real life, and tells both what h 
 was and wJiat he saw, the latter being the Photograph of the Negro in Africa, which haa 
 been so long wanted. A nephew of Mr. Mayer has illustrated the volume with eight ad- 
 mirable drawings. We should think no book of the present day would be received with 
 so keen an interest" Home Journal. 
 
 " Capt. Canot has passed most of his life since 1S19 on the ocean, and his catalogue of 
 adventures at sea and on land, rival in grotesqueness and apparent improbability the mar- 
 vels of Robinson Crusoe." Evening Post. 
 
 "If stirring incidents, hair-breadth escapes, and variety of adventure, can maka a book 
 Interesting, this must possess abundant attractions." Newark Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " This is a true record of the life of one who had spent the greater part of his days la 
 dealing in human flesh. We commend this book to all lovers of adventure." Boston 
 Christian Recorder. 
 
 4i We would advise every one who is a lover of ' books that are books 1 every one who 
 admires Le Sage and De Foe, and has lingered long over the charming pages of Gil Blai 
 and Robinson Cruaoe every one, pro-slavery or anti-slavery, to purchase this book." 
 Buffalo Courier 
 
D. APPLETON & CO:S PUBLICATION'S. 
 Rev. Samuel Osgood's Two Popular Books. 
 
 I. 
 
 Mile Stones in our Life Journey 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 One Volume, 12mo. Cloth. Price $1, 
 
 Opinions of the Press. 
 
 u In so small a compsss, we rarely meet with more Catholic sympathies, and with I 
 clearer or more practical view of the privileges enjoyed by, and the duties enjoined, upon 
 as all, at any stage of our mortal pilgrimage. ' Church Journal. 
 
 "Some passages remind us forcibly of Addison and Goldsmith." Independent. 
 
 " This little volume is one of those books which are read by all classes at all stages ol 
 life, with an interest which loses nothing by change or circumstances." Pennsyl/oanian. 
 
 " He writes kindly ; strongly and readably; nor is their any thing in this volume of I 
 narrow, bigoted, or sectarian character." Life Illustrated. 
 
 " His counsels are faithful and wholesome, his reflection touching, and the whole is 
 clothed in a style graceful and free." Hartford Relig. Herald. 
 
 " This is a volume of beautiful and cogent essays, virtuous in motive, simple in expres- 
 sion, pertinent and admirable in logic, and glorious in conclusion and climax." Buffalo 
 Express. 
 
 " It is written with exquisite taste, is full of beautiful thought most felicitously ox- 
 pressed, and is pervaded by a genial and benevolent spirit." Dr. Sprague. 
 
 " Almost every page has a tincture of elegant scholarship, and bears witness to an * 
 tensive reading of good authors." Bryant. 
 
 II. 
 
 The Hearth-Stone ; 
 
 THOUGHTS UPON HOME LIFE IN OUR CITIES. 
 BY SAMUEL OSGOOD, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " STUDIES IN CHBISTUU BIOGBAPHY, 11 " GOD WITH MEN," KTU 
 
 FOUETH EDITION. 
 One Volume, 12mo. Cloth. Price f 1. 
 
 Criticisms of the Press. 
 
 "This is a volume of elegant and impressive essays on the domestic relations and reli- 
 gious duties of the household. Mr. Osgood writes on these interesting themes in the most 
 charming and animated style, winning the reader's judgment rather than coercing it to the 
 author's conclusions. The predominant sentiments in the book are purity, sincerity, and 
 love. A more delightful volume has rarely been published, and we trust it will have t 
 wide circulation, for its influence must be salutary upon both old and young. 1 ' Commer' 
 rial Advertiser. 
 
 " The ' Hearth-Stone 1 is the symbol of all those delightful truths which Mr. Osgood here 
 connects with it. In a free and graceful style, varying from deep solemnitj to the most 
 genial and lively tone, as bents his range of subjects, he gives attention to wise thoughts 
 on holy things, and homely truths. His volume will find mar y warm hearts io which It 
 will address itself." Christian Examiner. 
 
D. APPLETON & CO.'fl PUBLICATIONS. 
 A Ore at National Work. 
 
 Party Leaders. 
 
 SKETCHES OF 
 
 JEFFERSON, HAMILTON, RANDOLPH, JACKSON, AND CLAY: 
 Including Noticet of many other Distinguished American Statesmen 
 
 BY J. G. BALDWIN, 
 
 (Now of San Francisco, California.) Author of Flush Times of Alabama and Mississippi. 
 One Volume, 12mo. Cloth. Price $1 
 
 OPINIONS OP EMINENT MEN. 
 
 From Ex-President FILLMOEE. 
 
 I have read " Party Leaders" with great satisfaction and delight, and return you a thon, 
 Band thanks for the pleasure and instruction I have derived from the perusal. 
 From Honorable EDWAED EVERETT. 
 
 What little I have as yet been able to read of it, has impressed me very favorably in re- 
 ference to the ability and impartiality with which it Is drawn up. I am prepared to read 
 it with interest and advantage, in consequence of the pleasure I derived from " The Flush 
 Times in Alabama." 
 
 From Honorable 3. P. KENNEDY. 
 
 I was greatly delighted with the fine, discriminating, acute insight with which the cha- 
 racters presented in the work are drawn, and with the eloquent style of the sketches. I 
 but repeat the common opinion of the best judges, which I hear every where expressed, 
 when I commend these qualities of the book. 
 
 " The Flush Times of Alabama " had whetted my desire to see this second production 
 of Mr. Baldwin's pen, aud I can hardly express to you the agreeable surprise I enjoyed in 
 finding a work of such surpassing merit in a tone and manner so entirely different from the 
 first demonstrating that double gift in the author which enables him to excel in two such 
 opposite departments of literature. 
 
 From Hon. K. M. T. HUNTEE, 77. & Senator from Virginia. 
 
 I have read " Party Leaders" with great pleasure. It is written with ability, and witti 
 freshness, and grace of style, * * * The chapters on Eandolph are capital. 
 From Hon. JAMES M. MASON, V. Senator fvom Virginia. 
 
 I have heard " Party Leaders " highly commended by those competent to judge, but 
 confess I was not prepared for the intellectual and literary feast its rich pages have yielded. 
 
 As a literary work, I shall be much disappointed if it does not place its author at once 
 In the first rank of American literature, and even in old England. I shall look for its place 
 nctt to, if not by the side of, the kindred works of Mslntosh and Macaulay. 
 From a Distinguished Statesman. 
 
 It is a noble production, full of profound thought, discriminating judgment, just criti 
 cism, and elevated sentiments, all expressed in the most captivating and eloquent style. It 
 te a book just according to my fancy, and, I think, one of the most captivating in oui 
 
D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 A Practical Book on the Breeding of Fisli 
 
 A COMPLETE TREATISE ON 
 
 Artificial Fifh-Breeding : 
 
 INCLUDING THE EEPOETS ON THE SUBJECT MADE TO THE FKENCH 
 
 ACADEMY AND THE FEENCH GOVEENMENT, AND PAETICU- 
 
 LAES OF THE DISOOVEET AS PUESUED IN ENGLAND. 
 
 TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY 
 
 WM. H. FRY. 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 One Volume. 12mo. Cloth. Price 75 cents. 
 
 Opinions of the Press. 
 
 " A very genial and entertaining, though practical and scientific book. No one who 
 loves the existence in our rivers, brooks, or lakes, of trout and salmon, should be without 
 It" Broome Republic. 
 
 " In this little volume, the whole process of fish-culture is described so plainly and with 
 BO much minuteness that any person will have no difficulty in informing himself sufficiently 
 well to engage in the business ; provided he has the necessary facilities and leisure, with a 
 good running stream or pond, and the proper attention, a great brood of fishes may be 
 natched from the eggs, and raised up for the market or the table ; and such delicacies are 
 trout and salmon, that it is evident that the business of producing them for sale may be 
 made profitable." Worcester Palladium. 
 
 " This discovery is treated as a matter of great public benefit hi France and England, 
 where it is practised under the direction and patronage of Government, and is beginning to 
 work its results in stocking rivers and lakes, with the finest species of fish, where few or 
 one have before existed for many years." Ohio Cultivator. 
 
 " Every farmer who has a stream flowing through his land, or miller who wishes to turn 
 Ws ponds to some account, should make himself acquainted with the details of ti book." 
 -Newark Daily AdvertiMr. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 '67 -9 A 
 
 LD 21A-6Cbrc-2,'67 
 (H241slO)476B 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley