Transferred to W.C.L. CI. n 0 LIT. B\C\ i TRINITY COLLEGE'"' 0 1 LIBRARY (0 DURHAM : NORTH CAROLINA Rec’d t&Tryanr f- Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/details/paintingsculptur01raym Professor Raymond’s System of COMPARATIVE ^ESTHETICS I. — Art in Theory. 8°, cloth extra ...... $1.75 “ Scores an advance upon the many art-criticisms extant. . . . Twenty brilliant chap- ters, pregnant with suggestion .” — Popular Science Monthly. “A well grounded, thoroughly supported, and entirely artistic conception of art that will lead observers to distrust the charlatanism that imposes an idle and superficial mannerism upon the public in place of true beauty and honest workmanship .” — The New York Times. ' “ His style is good, and his logic sound, and ... of the greatest possible service to the student of artistic theories .” — Art Journal (London). II. — The Representative Significance of Form. 8°, cloth extra. $2.00 “A valuable essav. . . . Professor Raymond goes so deep into causes as to explore the subconscious and the unconscious mind for a solution of his problems, and eloquently to range through the conceptions of religion, science and metaphysics in order to find fixed principles of taste. ... A highly interesting discussion .” — The Scotsman (Edinburgh). 44 Evidently the ripe fruit of years of patient and exhaustive study on the part of a man singularly fitted for his task. . It is profound in insight, searching in analysis, broad in spirit, and thoroughly modern in method and sympathy .” — The Universalist Leader. “Its title gives no intimation to the general reader of its attractiveness for him, or to curious readers of its widely discursive range of interest. ... Its broad range may re- mind one of those scythe-bearing chariots with which the ancient Persians used to mow down hostile files .” — The Outlook. III. — Poetry as a Representative Art. 8°, cloth extra $175 44 I have read it with pleasure, and a sense of instruction on many points .” — Francis Turner Palgrave y Professor of Poetry , Oxford University. 14 Dieses ganz vortreffliche Werk .” — Englische Studien y Universitat Breslau. “An acute, interesting, and brilliant piece of work. ... As a whole the essay deserves unqualified praise.” — N. Y. Independent. IV. — Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture as Representative Arts. With 225 illustrations. 8° ..... $2.50 . 41 The artist will find in it a wealth of profound and varied learning ; of original, sugges- tive, helpful thought . . . of absolutely inestimable value .” — The Looker-on. “Expression by means of extension or size, . . . shape, . . . regularity in outlines . . . the human body . . . posture, gesture, and movement, . . . are all considered ... A specially interesting chapter is the one on color .” — Current Literature. “ The whole book is the work of a man of exceptional thoughtfulness, who says what he has to say in a remarkably lucid and direct manner .” — Philadelphia Press. V. — The Genesis of Art Form. Fully illustrated. 8° . $2.25 44 In a spirit at once scientific and that of the true artist, he pierces through the mani- festations of art to their sources, and shows the relations, intimate and essential, between painting, sculpture, poetry, music, and architecture. A book that possesses not only sin- gular value, but singular charm.” — M Y. Times, “A help and a delight. Every aspirant for culture jn any of the liberal arts, including music and poetry, will find something in this book to aid him .” — Boston Times. < “It is impossible to withhold one’s admiration from a treatise which exhibits in such a large degree the qualities of philosophic criticism .” — Philadelphia Press. VI. — Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music. Together with Music as a Representative Art. 8 °, cloth extra . $1.75 44 Prof. Raymond has chosen a delightful subject, and he treats it with all the charm of narrative ana high thought and profound study .” — New Orleans States. 44 The reader must be, indeed, a person either of supernatural stupidity or of marvellous erudition, who does not discover much information in Prof. Raymond's exhaustive and instructive treatise. From page to page it is full of suggestion .” — The Academy (London). VII. — Proportion and Harmony of Line and Color in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture. Fully illustrated. 8° . $2.50 44 Marked by profound thought along lines unfamiliar to most readers and thinkers. . . When grasped, however, it becomes a source of great enjoyment and exhilaration. . . . No critical person can afford to ignore so valuable a contribution to the art-thought of the day .” — The Art Interchange (N. Y .). 44 One does not need to be a scholar to follow this scholar as he teaches while seeming to entertain, for he does both .” — Burlington Hawkeye. 44 The artist who wishes to penetrate the mysteries of color, the sculptor who desires to cultivate his sense of proportion, or the architect whose ambition is to reach to a high •tandard will find the work helpful and inspiring .” — Boston Transcript. G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS, New York and London 3 6 4 ^ PAINTING, SCULPTURE II PROFESSOR OF ^ESTHETICS IN THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY AT PRINCETON ; AUTHOR OF “ ART IN THEORY,” “ THE REPRESENTATIVE SIGNIFICANCE OF FORM,” “ POETRY AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART,” “ THE GENESIS OF ART-FORM,” “ RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC,” “PROPORTION AND HARMONY OF LINE AND COLOR IN PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHI- TECTURE,” “THE ESSENTIALS OF ^ESTHETICS,” ETC. AND ARCHITECTURE AS REPRESENTATIVE ARTS AN ESSAY IN COMPARATIVE AESTHETICS BY GEORGE LANSING RAYMOND, L.H.D. SECOND EDITION , REVISED G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS NEW YORK 27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET LONDON 24 BEDFORD STREET. STRANI &bc luticlmboclier ;j9rtss I9O9 COPYRIGHT, 1895 BY G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London Ube lltnlclicrbocfccr Iprcss, Hlew Iftocbclle, 1R. 13. PREFACE. HIS book contains an application to the arts of sight of the principles unfolded in the volume entitled “Art in Theory.” For the benefit of readers not acquainted with that volume, its general conclusions have been briefly reviewed in the first two chapters of this, which chapters, without lessening the intelligibility of the rest of the discussion, may be omitted by those not inter- ested in the philosophy of the subject. In connection with this review, and also, to an extent, in other parts of the volume, the various factors entering into visible repre- sentation have been correlated to those entering into audible representation as already unfolded in the volume entitled “ Poetry as a Representative Art ” and in the essay on “ Music as a Representative Art,” published in the volume entitled “ Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music.” As for visible representation considered by itself, the principles underlying this have, for the first time, been shown to be the same as applied not only in the higher arts of painting, sculpture, and architecture, but also in the art intimately connected with the first two, of pantomime or gesture, as well as in the methods of reading character, hardly less intimately connected with them, which are employed with various degrees of success in physiology, physiognomy, phrenology, and palmistry. IV PREFACE. Like the other books of this series, the present is amply illustrated ; in part to enable those who cannot obtain access to galleries or libraries to understand exactly what is meant by its statements ; in part to enable them, through numerous examples, to come to a perception of the truth of these statements. This latter result is by no means easy to attain. Few things require more time, if for no other reason, because they necessitate experience, than learning to recognize, put together, spell out, and read fluently the symbols representing the subtle language of the arts whether of sound or of sight. To conduct the reader through certain preliminary stages of this process, is the object of this book. It is acknowledged that the pathway through which he will be led is a little unu- sual, and so too the conception of representative signifi- cance at which he is expected to arrive. But it is hoped that he will not therefore be deterred from giving the treatment candid consideration. This remark applies not only to the general reader, but even to some acknowledged specialists. I once went over the motives of Wagner with the most broadly cultured musician whom I knew, and I found that while he perceived, at once, the representative elements in what are ordinarily termed imitative passages, he failed to per- ceive them, till pointed out to him, in many other passages so unmistakably developed from the intonations of speech that to me they seemed to talk — of course only in the sense of voicing the trend of emotive processes which alone is possible to music — almost as plainly as if the notes were words. The fact struck me, at first, as strange, my own musical education having been limited, aside from vocal studies, to seven or eight years’ practice on the piano, a course in thorough bass and harmony, and about- PREFA CE. V two years’ application of them to an organ played in church, — all before I was out of my teens. But upon reflection, I understood that what he lacked was my twenty years’ experience in teaching the melody of speech. So with the significance of visible form. One whose experience has forced him, as mine has, to the conclusion that every shape of the human body, natural or assumed, has a meaning peculiar to itself, though pos- sibly beyond even an expert’s power of interpretation, finds himself, very soon, according to the principle of association, drawing the same conclusion with reference to all shapes, whether human or not human. Those who think it not essential to discuss the general accuracy of this conclusion, as applied to all phenomena audible or visible ; or who imagine that, if true, art has no mission in revealing and emphasizing it, have, simply, not learned all that life is designed to teach them ; or those who conceive that the methods through which art can fulfil this mission can be apprehended and appreciated with- out their stopping to think over each detail of the subject, to examine the exemplifications of it, and to apply many original tests of their own to it, have not yet begun to learn the methods through which life can teach them any- thing of deep importance. Nor can it be said that, at the present time, there is no need of a book dealing with this subject, or with the other subjects which have been treated in this series of volumes. Everybody who reads much is probably aware that, as applied to the plastic arts, statements go practically un- challenged which assert — to quote from reviews upon aesthetic theories published in prominent journals — that “Art is the application to anything ,” — the italics are quoted — “ in the spirit of play and for pleasure only, of VI PREFA CE. the principle of proportion,” or that “Art is simply, wholly, and entirely a matter of form . . . the best critical judgment nowadays assumes the identity of the art-form with the art-meaning.” But few are aware that the result has followed which a logical mind would at once have anticipated, namely, that the same theory is applied to all the arts — to poetry, for instance. If they did know this, they might begin to surmise the danger of the situa- tion. Think of the literary prospects of a country, of the possibilities of its receiving any inspiring impulses from its poets at a period when new authors, writing with the acknowledged motive of Dante, Milton, or Wordsworth, would, for this reason and for no other reason, fail to com- mend themselves to the leaders of literary opinion! Yet one who has followed the views expressed in what maybe termed the professional critical journals of our country, would not be far astray in claiming that this accurately describes our own condition. The same France from which we have derived the notion that significance is not essential to painting, has also taught us, and the lesson has been accepted and subtly assimilated so as to become, almost unconsciously to ourselves, a part of the literary belief of some of us, that it is not essential, either, to poetry. In fact, Max Nordau’s statement in “ Degenera- tion,” that “ The theory of the importance of form, of the intrinsic value of beauty in the sound of words, of the sensuous pleasure to be derived from sonorous syllables without regard to their sense, and of the uselessness and even harmfulness of thought in poetry has become deci- sive in the most recent development of poetry,” could be applied to France not only but to our own country. What Nordau means he indicates by quotations, — this, for instance, from Theophile Gautier: “For the poet words PREFA CE. vii have in themselves, and outside the sense they express, a beauty and a value of their own. . . . Nothing is less ideal than a poet.” He “is a laborer; he ought not to have more intelligence than a laborer.” Also this from Charles Baudelaire : “ If the poet has pursued a moral aim, he has diminished his poetic power, and it is not im- prudent to wager that his work will be bad. Poetry has not truth for its object, it has only itself.” And this from Gustave Flaubert: “A beautiful verse meaning nothing is superior to a verse less beautiful meaning something,” which latter has been echoed in England by Oscar Wilde, who apparently is able in more departments than one to get along without those dualities which ordinary mortals suppose to be desirable. “ From time to time,” he says, “ the world cries out against some charming artistic poet because, to use its hackneyed and silly phrase, he has ‘ nothing to say.’ But if he had something to say he would probably say it, and the result would be tedious. It is just because he has no new message that he can do beau- tiful work.” The reason why such writers fail to recognize the importance of representative significance is easy enough to understand. Art is a complex subject. Significance is no more essential in it than is technique ; and the mere rudiments of this it takes years to master. As both Goethe and Longfellow have told us, the pathway to art, even if by this we mean merely the art of versifying, or of coloring with proficiency, is long. Unfortunately for many it is so very long that before they are fairly in sight of its termi- nation they have apparently lost sight of everything else. Nevertheless the general, if not the aesthetic, public, upon whose judgment the rank of the art-work must ultimately depend, know and care little about technique, except so vm PREFA CE. far as it has enabled the artist to secure for his product a certain satisfactory representative effect. But this effect depends in some cases as much upon what may be termed the expressional norm chosen as the nucleus of develop- ment, as upon the method of its development ; in other words, as much upon that which is significant in the work as upon that which is excellent in its form. As shown in Chapters IV. to VII. of “Art in Theory,” successful art is always the insignia with which the play-impulse decorates that which before the decoration has shown in practical relations its right to receive it. Just as a successful drama is an artistic development of imagination at play with the words of natural conversation; so a successful melody is a development of the same at play with the intonations of natural conversation ; and a successful picture, of the same at play with the outlines and colors of natural scenes. What imagination does is to elaborate the form, this being accomplished in our own day through carrying out the laws of complicated systems of rhythm, harmony, drawing, or coloring. But the forms that art, if high art, in each case elaborates, are forms of expressing thought and emotion. If this statement be true, the theories of this book have a practical as well as a theoretical bearing. Some time ago I listened to a rendering by a college glee club of the “Merry Miller” chorus from DeKoven’s “Rob Roy.” The question and answer “What, Margery? — Ay, Mar- gery,” were sung in an unpardonably expressionless way; yet because true to the intonations of speech, they took the audience by storm ; and I can now recall no melody of great popularity in which underneath all the decorative vestiture of the form, however much the pitch may be pushed up here or pulled down there, it is not possible to PREFA CE. IX detect general outlines true to certain first principles of vocal expression. Some melodies, indeed, like “ Cornin' thro’ the Rye ” can be talked off with absolute fidelity to every musical note. But if melody be thus developed from speech, the same must be remotely true of harmony for this, in its turn, as shown in Chapters XII. to XV. of “ Rhythm and Harmony,” is itself, in its incipiency, a de- velopment of melody. It is true that it is said of the melodies of speech, as well as of the movements of gesture, such as are consid- ered in the present volume, that their significance differs in different countries. But those who say this, as some have done, imagining the statement, however true, to involve a refutation of any principle advanced in this series of essays, merely show how superficially they have read them. As applied to music, for instance, such a statement is not made with reference to time, force, or volume — only with reference to pitch, as used in the inflections. But in “ Rhythm and Harmony,” pages 265 to 267, it is very carefully shown that the inflection is not representative of the phraseology but of the motive ex- pressed in the phraseology, many instances being cited in which precisely the same phrases are rightly uttered with exactly opposite inflections. This being understood, the objection mentioned falls to the ground. When, for instance, for reasons which the reference just given will indicate, an American says to you at the table, “ Will you please pass me the bread ? ” with a rising inflection on the last word, what is uppermost in his mind is to indi- cate his acknowledgment that your action in the matter is questionable ; and that he leaves it open for you to do as you choose. But when an Englishman asks the same question, as he almost invariably does, with a falling X PREFA CE. inflection, what is uppermost in his mind is to make an assertion with reference to his wishes, and to indicate, as, in other matters, he is apt to do to such an extent as to seem, at times, slightly dictatorial, that it is not open for you to differ from him in thinking that, if you are a gentleman, you are expected to do as he — gently — bids you. People of Southern Europe, even Irishmen, some- times end what seem positive assertions with an upward turn of the voice. But they are not positive assertions. They are grammatical forms of assertion as uttered by men with habits acquired by being constantly contra- dicted, or, at least, obliged to subordinate their own views to those of others, who alone are supposed to have a right to speak with authority. Of course, such methods of intonation, once acquired, may be continued from father to son by imitation. But despite the tendency to this latter, they usually cease to be continued after social and religious conditions change. One generation of residence in America will train any foreigner, whatever his language, to express his decided sentiments just as in his own land his own babe, before learning to imitate, invariably does, without any such questionable suggestion. Again a Bedouin will beckon you toward himself with a quick movement of his hand, the palm of which is not turned up, as with us, but down. What does this form of ges- ture mean? Very clearly, that the Bedouin, while he wishes you nearer himself, is not opening his whole heart to you, or asking you to occupy a position on a social or sympathetic level with himself. On the contrary, unconsciously, perhaps, he is on his guard against you and intends to keep you in a safe and proper place — below him. See pages 156 to 1 6 1 . In fact, the character of his gesture affords an almost posi- PKEFA CE. XI tive proof of the hostile nature of those with whom he and his fathers have for years been accustomed to associate. Similar explanations might show that other apparent exceptions to the principles unfolded in these essays fur- nish, when intelligently interpreted, the strongest possible confirmation of their universal applicability ; though, of course, among the hundreds of illustrations used or sug- gesting themselves to the reader, it would be strange if some were not found which it would be difficult to recon- cile with any principle whatever. But it is hoped that exceptional cases which, possibly, on second thought, the author might explain, or the reader apprehend differently, will not deter any from a serious consideration of the principles themselves, the acceptance of which cannot fail to have an important influence upon all one’s views either of art or of life. For, if true, they show that the poems, symphonies, paintings, statues, and buildings produced by the artist differ from the elementary forms of these produced before his appear- ance, mainly in the greater degree in which he has learned to read through forms, whether human or not, that which is in the soul of man and of all things. For one who prac- tises art or enjoys it, or takes any interest in it whatever, though not beyond a perception that it is about him and has come to stay ; and not only for such an one, but for all who live in a world surrounded by appearances which could awaken infinitely more interest, were it believed that every slightest feature of them might be recognized to be definitely significant and suggestive and, therefore, in- structive and inspiring, — this, certainly, is a conception of art and of life and of the relations between them, which is worth holding. Princeton, September, 1895. CONTENTS. I. PAGE Correspondences between the Principles of Rep- resentation in the Arts of Sound and of Sight ........ 1-13 The Higher Arts as All Representative — Of Mental Processes — Of Material Phenomena — The Principle of Correspondence by Way of Association and Comparison, as Applied to Language — Representation by Instinctive Exclamations — By Reflective Imita- tive Sounds — Poetry and Music as Developed from these Two Methods — Correspondences by Way of Association and Comparison in the Arts of Sight — -Differences in the Ways in which the Two are Recognized and Used — The Instinctive and Reflective Tenden- cies as Respectively Manifested in Painting, Sculpture, and Archi- tecture — The Emotive as a Combination of Both Tendencies — Illustrated by Facts. II. Correspondences between the Factors of Rep- resentation in the Arts of Sound and of Sight ........ 14-22 Factors of Visible Representation to be Considered Separately and as Combined — Duration, Time, and Pauses in Sounds Corre- lated to Extension, Size, and Outlines in Shapes — Force, Gradation, and Regularity among Sounds Correlated to Similar Effects in Shapes — Measures, Rhythm, and Accent Correlated to Measure- ments Proportion and Shading — Pitch and Quality of Sounds Corre- lated to Effects of Color — Effect of Accent on the Pitch of Tones Correlated to that of Shading upon Color — Each Factor of Visible Effect Representative — Instinctive, Reflective, and Emotive Rep- resentation Illustrated as Applied to Extension or Size — As Applied to Shading and Color. xiii XIV CONTENTS. III. PAGE Representation by Means of Extension or Size 23-38 Representation in Art Based upon Methods of Expressing Thought and Emotion through the Use of the Human Body — Size as Rep- resenting Heaviness, Strength, Immovability, Substantiality, or the Opposite — As Representing the Important, Influential, Dignified, or the Opposite — The Representation of these Conceptions Made Consistent with the Representation of Actual External Appear- ances through the Laws of Perspective as Indicating Nearness — Differences between Requirements of Representation in these Arts and in Music and Architecture — Similarity, Nevertheless, in the Methods of Representation — As Applied also to the Laws of Per- spective — Recapitulation and Illustrations of these Methods as Ap- plied to Size. IV. Representing by Means of Shape : the Accenting or Shading of Outlines .... 39-54 Force, Pitch, and Quality, as Exemplified in the Arts of Sound — Illustrations — Pause and Accent as Correlated to Outline and Shad- ing — Touch or Handling as Differing in Strength, Gradation, and Regularity : Strength — Examples of Strength and Delicacy of Touch in Outline Sketches — Other Examples — The Same as Ap- plied in Connection with Color — As Applied in Sculpture — As Ap- plied in Architecture — The Importance of the Effects of Light and Shade in this Art. V. Gradation in the Outlines of Shapes, Curved, Angular and Both Combined . . . 55-87 Meaning and Effect of Gradation as Applied to Outline — Effects of Gradation in the Arts of Sound — Corresponding Effects in the Arts of Sight — Three Methods of Describing the Outlines of a Form — Each Method Representative of both Mental and Material Conditions — How Drawing by the Hand is Representative of Instructive, Reflective, and Emotive Mental Conditions — How the Actions of the Body are Representative of the Same — How Appearances in Nature are Similarly Representative to the Mind of the Spectator — Curvature — Angularity and Straight Lines — I fori- CONTENTS. XV zontality and Effects of Repose, Verticality and Effects of Elevation and Aspiration — Mixed Lines and Effects of Excitation — Illustra- tions from Landscape Gardening — From Painting and Sculpture — Quotations Confirming these Explanations as Applied to Painting - — -To Sculpture — Similar Outlines as Used in Architecture — Their Representative Meanings : The Rounded Forms — The Straight Lines and Angles — The Combinations of Both — Recapitulation. VI. Regularity in Outlines : Radiation, Parallel- ism, Circles, and Ovals .... 88-105 Regularity as Applied to Sizes and Shapes — Framework of Lines on which Art-Products are Constructed — How this Accords with the Requirements of Nature in General, as in Radiation or Central Point — As in Setting — As in Parallelism — Also with the Require- ments of Individual Objects in Nature — This Framework Accords with the Requirements both of Mental Conceptions and Material Appearances — Significance of Regularity and Irregularity in Representations of the Mind — Of External Natural Phenomena — Blending of Regularity and Irregularity in the Human Form and Face — As Judged by an Ideal Framework — Its Vertical Lines — Its Horizontal Lines — Facial Regularity does not Involve Sameness — Slight Departures from it not Inconsistent with a Degree of Beauty — Great Departures Allowable for the Sake of Expression or Contrast — Necessity of Considering Differences and Deviations in Regularity Especially as Manifested in the Innate and Assumed Appearances of Men. VII. Representation Through the Natural Shapes of the Human Body : General Principles, 106-124 Importance to Art of the Study of the Meaning of the Shapes and Postures of the Human Figure — Sources of Information on this Subject — Relation of the Subject to Physical Facts — Meaning of Roundness or Broadness, Sharpness or Narrowness, and Length — Indicative Respectively of the Vital, the Mental, and the Motive Temperaments — Correlation between these and the Tendencies of Outline already Considered — The Forms Necessitated by the Physiological Conditions Underlying the Three — The Vital and XVI CONTENTS. Breadth of Form — The Mental or Interpretive and Sharpness at the Extremities — Connection between the Vital and Mental as Indicated by Length — The Motive or Active and Length of Spine and Muscles — The Same Shapes as Interpreted According to the Observations of Phrenology — Of Physiognomy — The Round Face — The Sharp Face — The Long Face — Of Palmistry — Different Temperaments are Usually Blended in All Men — Mental Tenden- cies Corresponding to All the Temperaments Exist in Each — How They are Manifested by the Torso and Lower Limbs — By the Hands and Head — In Connection with Activity. VIII. Representation Through the Postures of the Human Body: General Principles . . 1 25-140 Three Divisions of the Subject, namely, the Sources, Directions, and Forms of the Movements — The Vital or Physical Sources of Movements Show that the Vital Tendency Leads to Instinctive, Unconscious, Unpremeditated Expression — The Mental Tendency to Reflective, Conscious, and Premeditated Expression — The Motive, Emotive, or Moral Tendency to a Combination of the Two Forms of Expression — The Mental or Interpretive Directions of the Movements Show that Vital Expressions Move away from the Body — Mental Expressions Move toward it — Motive Expressions are in Combinations of the Other Two, as when Alternating or Oblique — Delsarte’s Theories — The Active Effects of the Move- ments are, in the Case of Vital Expression, Free, Graceful, and Round — Of Mental Expression, Constrained, Awkward, Straight — Of Motive Expression in Action Covering Much Space, hence Long — If Very Emotive, Varied and Angular — If Moral, Tense and Rigid — How the Actor’s and Orator’s Movements Combine Curvature and Straightness, Grace and Strength. IX. Representation Through Particular Gestures of the Torso and Limbs. . . . 141-164 Complex Nature of the Subjects to be Treated and the Order in which they will be Considered — Different Parts of the Body as Im- parting a Peculiar Phase to Emphasis — Vital verst/s Mental Move- CONTENTS. XVII merits of the Body in General Illustrating this : Those Mainly Physical of the Lower Torso — Of the Lower Limbs — Mainly Mental of the Hands and Plead with Upper Torso — Mainly Emotive of the Upper Torso with Shoulders and Arms — Mental or Interpretive Movements of the Hands — The Place in the Physical Sphere in which the Hand is Held : Horizontal Extension — Vertical, Downward, and Upward Extension- — Meaning of Gestures as Determined by their Physical Relations, as About, Below, or Above the Breast — Indicative not of Actual so much as Conceived Relations — Interpretive Shapes Assumed by the Hand — Physical Suggestions of the Fist — Mental of the Fingers — Emotive of the Palm — Closing Gesture with Averted Palm — Opening Gesture with the Opposite — Motive Expression in the Methods of Managing the Arms — Movement From and Toward the Body and in Both Ways. X. Representation Through Positions and Move- ments of the Head and Face . . . 165-191 Correspondences between Gestures of the Head and of the Rest of the Body — Physical Movements of the Head Toward or From Objects or Persons, Directly, Sideward, or Obliquely— Phases of Mentality Suggested by its Different Parts — Illustrations of how these Parts Operate in Connection with the Movements — Compli- cated Nature of Expression by Movements of the Head, Eyes, and Facial Muscles — Meaning of Movements or Positions of the Head Forward with the Eyes Looking on a Level — With the Eyes Looking Downward — Or Upward — Meaning of Movements or Positions of the Head Backward with the Eyes Looking on a Level — With the Eyes Looking Downward — Or Upward — Mean- ing of Normal Positions of the Head — Difficulty of Distinguish- ing between these Different Movements or Positions — Facial Expression Corresponding to Shapes Assumed by the Fingers in Hand Gestures — Rigid Physical Effects like those of the Fist with Mouth, Brows, and Nose — Mental Effects of Concentration, like those of the Finger — Emotive Effects as in the Closing and Open- ing Gestures, Through Using Muscles of the Mouth — The Eye- brows — The Eyes — The Nostrils — Outline Diagrams of Different Effects — Comic Effects. xvni CONTENTS. XI. p/ Representation by Means of Color . . . 192-2 Correspondence between the Effects of Tone in Sounds and of Color in Scenes — Mental Effects of Different Degrees of Light — Instinctive, Reflective, and Emotive Effects — Effects of Pitch and Quality in Color, as in Sound, very Closely Allied — Representative Effects of Different Qualities of Tone — Their Correspondences in Colors — Cold Colors and Normal or Pure Tones as Instinctive — Warm Colors and Orotund Tones as Reflective — Varied Colors as Emotive — Confirmation of these Correspondences from Facts of Experience — From the Use of Color in Painting — Especially the Human Countenance — In Sculpture — In Architecture — Represen- tation of Natural Effects of Distance through Cold and Warm Colors in Painting — In Architecture — Correspondence between the Effects of Mixed Tones and Colors — Representative Influence of Black — With Cold Colors — With Warm Colors — Of White with Cold Colors — With Warm Colors — Further Illustrations — Conclu- sion. XII. The Development of Representation in Paint- ing and Sculpture ..... 213-2 Connection between what is to Follow and what has Preceded — How Poetry and Music are Developed from Language and Intona- tion — Analogous Methods as Exemplified in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture — Prehistoric Pictorial Art — Representing External Appearances not only, but Mind — Earliest Art of a Historic Period — Picture Writing — Hieroglyphic Writing — Description of — Art as Distinguished from Writing in Egypt — In Greece — Early Represen- tation of Ideas and Later of Natural Appearances only — Symbolism of Early Christian Art and Naturalism of Later Art — Ideas and Nature as Represented at the Renaissance and at Present — Possi- bility of Two Opposing Tendencies — Justification for each of them — Yet need not Exclude each other — So far as Exclusive each is Detrimental — Practical Application of these Facts to Present Conditions — The Yellow Book — American Illustrated Magazines — Importance of the Subject. CONTENTS. XIX XIII. PAGE Representation of Mental Conceptions in Painting and Sculpture .... 239-253 Our Interest in Objects of Sight is Influenced by their Effects upon our Thoughts and Emotions — Bearing of this Fact upon Representation in Painting and Sculpture — Bearing of the Same upon the Use of the Term, The Humanities — Practical Reasons for Disregarding the Importance of Significance — Attention to Significance not Inconsistent with Equal Attention Given to Form — Nor Attention to Form with Attention to Significance — Theo- retical Reasons for Disregarding the Importance of Significance : Lessing’s Theory — The Truth of this not Denied in these Essays — The Real Meaning of his Theory — The Principle Underlying it — The Reasons Underlying this Principle — Pictures that are not Able to Interpret themselves — When a Picture is truly Literary — Illustra- tions — Events, though they should not be Detailed in Pictures, may be Suggested. XIV. Forms of Painting Interpretive of their Own Significance ....... 254-279 The Possibility of Significance and the Need of Explanation — Quantity and Quality of Significance as Determining Artistic Ex- cellence — Subjects as Determining the Rank of Products — Execution as Determining the Same — Flowers and Fruit — How made Representative of Significance — Landscapes — How made Representative of Significance — How still more of the Human Element may be Introduced — Other Examples — Figures and Faces of Men — Portraits — Characteristic Portraiture — Representative of the Artist’s Thought and Emotion — Ideal Portraiture — Genre Paintings — -Symbolical, Allegorical, and Mythological Paintings — Historical Paintings — Examples. XV. Forms of Sculpture Interpretive of their Own Significance : the Function of Ex- planations ....... 280-290 Differences between the Subjects of Painting and Sculpture- — Portraiture in Sculpture — Poetic Description of the Dying Gladiator XX CONTENTS. — The Laocoon — Symbolic, Allegoric, Religious, Mythologic, and Historic Sculpture — Verbal Explanations as an Aid to Artistic Effect — Have the Same Relation to Painting and Sculpture as to Music — The Interest and Attractiveness of Things Seen is Increased by our Knowledge with Reference to them — The Same Principle Applies to Things Depicted in Art. XVI. Representation of Material Appearances in Painting and Sculpture .... 291-310 Form Comes to be Developed for its own Sake — To Appreciate Art, we should Know the Technical Aims of the Artist — Books on the Subject — Elements of Correct Technique — Lineal Representa- tion of Light and Shade — Of Shape and Texture — Of Distance and Perspective — “ Classic ” and “ Romantic” Lines — Distinctness and Indistinctness of Line — Laws of Perspective — Lineal Represen- tation of Life and Movement — Reason for Apparent Lack of Accuracy — Same Principles Apply to Sculpture — Elements of Correct Coloring — Ignorance of Early Colorists — Value — Origin of the Term — Color — -Representation of Light and Shade — Of Shape and Texture — Of Distance or Aerial Perspective — Of Life and Movement — Conclusion. XVII. The Development of Representation in Archi- tecture ........ 311-321 Modes of Expression in Architecture and Music as Contrasted with Painting, Sculpture, and Poetry — The Germs of Music and Architecture Antedate those of the Other Arts, but are Artistically Developed Later — Music Develops through Poetry, and Architecture is Hut-Building Made Picturesque and Stat- uesque — Early Attempts to Make Useful Buildings Ornamental — Examples — Influences of the Play-Impulse upon All Forms of Construction — Illustration of its Effects upon a House — These Effects Represent both Mental and Material Conditions — Facts Evincing this — Such Effects as Enhancing the Interest. CONTENTS. XXI XVIII. PAGE Architectural Representation of Mental Conceptions: Foundations and Walls . 322-352 Representation of the Constructive Idea in the Foundation — The Side Walls — Pillars, Buttresses, Pilasters, String-Courses — Effects of Satisfaction and Repose versus those of Insecurity in Support Afforded by Pillars — Arches — Brackets — Important for the Appa- rent Support to be the Real Support — Heavy Cupolas and Ventilators — Unrepresentative Pediments — The Purpose of a Building as Determining its General Plan — As Determining its Interior Arrangements — As Determining its Exterior Appearance — Representative of the Interior Plan through the Exterior — Appear- ances of Five Cottages Contrasted— The Same Principle Applied to Other Buildings, Street Fronts, Palaces — Colleges — Porches. XIX. Architectural Representation of Mental Con- ceptions — Roofs ...... 353-371 Domes — False Domes — Useless Cupolas, Pinnacles, Towers, Spires — The Same Used as Memorials — Even these should be Artistic and so Representative — This Principle as Applied to Spires and Towers — The Roof Proper — Rounded Roofs — Roofs as too Large and too Small or Invisible — Gutters and Cornices, Plain and Castellated — Balustrades as Representing Flat Roofs — Visible Roofs in City Streets — Paris Streets and the Court of Honor at the Columbian Exhibition — Streets in New York — Objections to High Buildings — Legislative Methods of Preventing them — ^Esthetic Regulations about Sky-line, Color, and Style — The Sky-line and Mansard Roof. XX. Architectural Representation of Material Surroundings ...... 372-396 Object of the Present Chapter — Architecture Involves more than Natural Arrangements for Shelter — But is Developed from these — Rendered more Representative — Primitive Huts as Developed into the Temples on the Acropolis — Primitive Tents as Developed XXI 1 CONTENTS. into the Oriental Temples — Primitive Rounded and Pointed Arches, Domes, and Spires, — This Imitation sometimes Conscious, some- times Unconscious — Development of Styles Based on Straight Lines, Curves, and Angles — Criticism on the Views of Helmholtz — The Principles of Correspondence as PTilfilled in Architectural Forms — Suggestive and Imitative Representation as Fulfilled in it and in other Arts — Architectural Examples. XXI. Architectural Representation of Material Surroundings Continued .... 397-408 The Order of Representative Development in Architecture — Styles Imitating Appearances in Nature — Testimony of Facts — Applied to Interiors and Exteriors — Developments of the Imitative in the other Arts — Possibilities of its Development in Architecture- New Uses of Metals — The Development of the Tendency might not Improve the Art — Would Necessitate the Exercise of Genius — What are Valid Arguments against such Developments — Sincerity in the Use of Material, Natural Woods, etc. — Use of Material Natural to a Locality — Conclusion. Index . 4 09 ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE 1. Farnese Hercules by Glycon the Athenian ... 20 From Mitchell’s 44 History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 21, 24, 26, 281. 2. Flying Mercury by Giovanni da Bologna ... 21 From. Viardot’s 44 Wonders of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 21, 25, 26, 62, 73, 135, 152. 3. Melrose Abbey .24 From Fergusson’s 44 History of Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 25, 26, 32, 34, 203, 322, 380, 3Q0. 4. Interior of a Church Near Kostroma, Russia ... 25 From the same. Mentioned on pages 25, 26, 32, 34. 5. Piankhi Receiving the Submission of Namrut and Others, 27 From Rawlinson’s 44 Ancient Egypt.” Mentioned on pages 27, 50, 222. 6. Heracles, Triton, and Nereids, from Doric Temple at Assos 27 From C. E. Clement’s 44 Outline History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 27, 222. 7. Henry II. Receiving from God the Crown, etc. . , ■ 29 From Baring-Gould’s 44 Germany.” Mentioned on page 27. 8 . Pollice Verso, by Gerome 31 From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 28, 34, 91, 274, 287, 295. 9. A Scene in the Woods 33 From Cassell’s 44 Sunlight and Shade.” Mentioned on pages 32, 73, 399. 10. Egyptian Lotus-Leaf Capital from Edfu .... 34 From Lubke’s 44 History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 32, 394, 398. 11. Ancient Corinthian Capital 34 From Fergusson’s 44 History of Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 32, 380, 398. 12. Cathedral of St. Isaac’s, St. Petersburg 35 From Cassell’s 44 All the Russias.” Mentioned on pages 34, 36, 38, 42, 52, 82, 352, 353, 356, 380. 13. House of Parliament, England 36 From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 34, 38, 42, 52, 322, 358, 380. 14. Temple of Theseus, Athens 36 From Lubke’s 44 History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 34, 35, 38, 42, 52, 84, 86, 322, 323, 380, 386, 387, 389. 15. St. Mark’s, Venice . 37 From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 36, 38, 42, 52, 78, 82, 86, 380. xxiii XXIV ILLUSTRA TIONS. PAGE 16. Light and Shade, by Walter Crane 41 From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 18, 41, 44, 46, 294, 30 7. 17. Lines Expressive of Storm, by Walter Crane ... 43 From the same. Mentioned on pages 18, 44, 66, 72, 259. 18. Lines Expressive of Repose, by Walter Crane ... 45 From the same. Mentioned on pages 18, 44, 70, 73, 90, 92, 95, 259. 19. Pallas of Velletri 47 From Viardot’s “ Wonders of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 49, 76, 281. 20. Apollo Sauroctonos, by Praxiteles ..... 48 From Cassell’s “ Gods of Olympus.” Mentioned on pages 49, 61, 76, 136, 223, 281. 21. The Laocoon Group 49 From C. E. Clement’s “ Outline History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 49, 77, 174, 223, 281, 284, 285. 22. Group from the Mausoleum of Maria Christina, by Canova, at Vienna 50 From Viardot’s “Wonders of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 50, 73, 263, 286. 23. The Soldier’s Return. Relief on National Monument near Bingen on the Rhine 51 From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 50, 286, 302. 24. Old South Church, Boston, Mass 52 From Cassell’s “ The World and its Cities and People.” Mentioned on pages 35, 54, 84, 331, 380. 25. Trinity Church, Boston, Mass 53 From the same. Mentioned on pages 35, 54, 84, 323, 334, 380. 26. Figure from the Nausica, by E. J. Poynter 6o From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 61, 72, 129, 130, 133. 27. Pedant’s Proposition of Marriage, from Etching by Daniel Chodowieck 61 From the same. Mentioned on pages 61, 138, 147, 160, 161, 169, 175. 28. The Apollo Belvedere 62 From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 62, 138, 147, 149, 151, 224, 281. 29. Author and Critics, by H. Stacy Marks, R.A. ... 63 From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 62, 151, 152 156, I 7 2 » !73> *77- 30. Lines Illustrative of Action, by Walter Crane . . 64 From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 72. 31. An Attack 65 From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 62, 145, 167, 171. 32. Tissington Spires, England 67 From Cassell’s “ Our Own Country.” Mentioned on pages 65, 66, 70, 72, 2 59i 399- 33. Repose in Landscape and Figure, by Walter Crane . . 69 From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 70, 73, 90, 92, 259. ILL USTRA TIONS. XXV 34. The Aurora, by Guido From the same. Mentioned on pages 61, 72, 136, 265, 272. 35. The Adoration of the Magi, by Paul Veronesi . From Lubke’s 44 History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 73, 174, 263, 276. 36. The Rape of the Sabines, by N. Poussin . From a drawing from Scribner’s “ Cyclopedia of Painters and Painting.” Mentioned on pages 46, 75, 87. 37. Athena of the Capitol From C. E. Clement’s 41 Outline History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 76, 224, 281. 38. Venus de’ Medici From Mitchell’s 44 History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 76, 138, 142, 223, 225, 281. 39. The Death of Ananias — Cartoon by Raphael From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 61, 62, 77, 137, 140, 145, 147, 156, 158, 161, 167, 170, 177, 178, 226, 287. 40. Old Pictures of St. Sophia, Constantinople From Lane-Poole’s 44 Turkey.” Mentioned on pages 78, 82, 86, 380. 41. Cologne Cathedral ........ From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 35, 52, 78, 82, 84, 86, 323, 380, 405. 42. The Russian Church, Paris From Fergusson’s “ History of Modern Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 82, 84, 86, 323. 43. Interior of Beverley Minster, England . From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 32, 82, 84, 380, 388, 399, 405. 44. Avenue of Palms at Rio-de-Janeiro From Cassell’s 44 Countries of the World.” Mentioned on pages, 32, 73, 84, 399 * 403- 45. Japanese Compositions From Kotsugaro Yenouge’s 44 Fine Art Pictures.” Mentioned on pages 90, 93 - 46. Human Figure Proportionately Divided by Lines Drawn over an illustration from Putnam’s 44 Art Hand-Book of Figure Drawing.” Mentioned on pages 90, 97, 98. 47. Front Face Proportionately Divided by Lines . From the same. Mentioned on pages 90, 97, 98, 101. 48. Side Face Proportionately Divided by Lines From the same. Mentioned on pages 90, 97, 98. 49. Eye and Ear Proportionately Divided by Lines From the same. Mentioned on pages 90, 97. 50. Mephistopheles ......... From Well’s 44 New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 100, 118, 170, 176, 178. 51. Face Expressive of Contempt and Anger . From the same. Mentioned on pages ioo, 118, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 189. 52. Laughing and Smiling Face From Cassell's Magazine 0/ A rt. Mentioned on pages 100, 183, 184. PAGE 71 72 75 76 77 79 80 81 83 84 85 93 96 97 97 98 99 99 100 XXVI ILL US TRA TIONS. PAGE 53. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines . . . .101 Drawn over a photograph from Dramatic Mirror. Mentioned on page 101. 54. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines .... 102 From the same. Mentioned on page ioi. 55. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines .... 102 From the same. Mentioned on page ioi. 56. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines .... 103 From the same. Mentioned on page ioi. 57. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines .... 103 From the same. Mentioned on page ioi. 58. St. Michael Overcoming Satan, by Raphael . . . 104 From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 62, 103, 145, 168. 59. Goldsmith . . . 109 From Well’s “New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 109, 113, 115, 117, 119, 124, 187. 60. Longfellow 109 From the same. Mentioned on pages 109, 113, 115, 117, 119, 124. 61. Phrenologically Divided Mead 115 From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 124, 167. 62. Yankee Sullivan 115 From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 119, 124. 63. Napoleon Bonaparte 116 From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 118, 119, 120, 124, 169, 177, 179. 64. Albert Barnes 117 From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 117, 118, 124, 182. 65. Broad Hand and Round Fingers 120 From a photograph of a drawing. Mentioned on pages 121, 123. 66. Sharp Hand and Angular Fingers . . . . 121 From the same. Mentioned on pages 121, 123. 67. Long Hand and Spatulated Fingers 122 From the same. Mentioned on pages 121, 123. 68. Drowning Man 128 From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on page 129. 69. Reflection 129 From a drawing by Maud Stumm. Mentioned on pages 129, 142, 156, 162. 70. Stern’s Maria, Painted by Wright of Derby . . . 131 From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 129, 142, 156, 168. 71. Upward Closing Gesture 132 From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 145, 152, 156, 161. 72. Side Closing Gesture 1:32 From the same. Mentioned on pages 140, 156, 158. 73. Oblique Forward Movement 132 From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 130, 137, 145, 148, 167, 172, 175. ILL USTRA TIONS. XXVll 74. Oblique Backward Movement From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 130, 145, 148, 158. 167. 75. Downward Closing Gesture From the same. Mentioned on pages 134, 136, 140, 156, 158. 76. Closing Finger Gesture Sideward From the same. Mentioned on pages 134, 136, 156, 158, 159. 77. Angular Argumentative Movements From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 134. 78. Dancing Movements From the same. Mentioned on pages 130, 135, 142. 79. A New Guinea Chief From Cassell’s “Picturesque Australia.” Mentioned on pages 136, 138. 80. The Woman Taken in Adultery, by N. Poussin . From Cassell’s Magazine of A rt. Mentioned on pages 129, 140, 155, 158, 161, 168, 174, 186, 276, 287. 81. Discomfort in the Abdomen From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 142, 162. 82. The Resurrection, by T. Nelson MacLean . From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 140, 142, 147, 151, 152, 160, 161, 162, 167, 174, 286. 83. The Faun of Praxiteles From Lubke’s “History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 61, 144, 147, 282. 84. Body Prolonged for Moral Effect From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 62, 138, 145 , 152. 85. Expression with the Foot From the same. Mentioned on pages 130, 145. 86. Expression with the Foot and Leg From the some. Mentioned on page 145. 87. Expression with the Foot and Knee From the same. Mentioned on page 146. 88. Expression with the Hips . * From the same. Mentioned on pages 138, 147. 89. Walking with Breast and Brow Advanced . From Well’s “ New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 145, 147, 148, 169, 172. 90. Walking with Face in Advance From the same. Mentioned on pages 148, 167, 171. 91. Faith, Hope, and Love From the same. Mentioned on pages 147, 148, 151, 162, 169. 92. Judas, Peter, and John, from the Last Supper of Leonardo, From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 147, 148, 158 167, 169, 373, 287. 93. Walking Upright From Well’s “ New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 149, 169. PAGE 132 134 134 135 136 137 139 142 143 144 145 146 146 146 147 148 148 149 150 151 ILL US TLA TIONS. xxviii PAGE 94. Adding Insult to Injury, by Gaetano Chierici . . . 152 From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 151, 156, 263, 95. Cain, by Giovanni Dupre 157 From the same. Mentioned on pages 156, 158, 281. 96. Downward Opening Gesture 159 From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 156, 160. 97. Sideward Descriptive Opening Gesture .... 159 From the same. Mentioned on pages 138, 151. 156, 160. 98. Upward Opening Gesture 160 From the same. Mentioned on pages 151, 161. 99. Boy Surprised 163 From a drawing by Maud Stumm. Mentioned on pages 130, 163, 171. 100. Credulity .......... 167 From Well's “New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 167, 168, 171, 174- 101. Unyielding Contemplation 169 From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 169, 175. 102. Amiable Suspicion 171 From the same. Mentioned on pages 171, 186. 103. Unamiable Suspicion 171 From the same. Mentioned on pages 171, 177. 104. Thoughtful Attention 172 From the same. Mentioned on pages 119, 172, 187. 105. Confidence 173 From the same. Mentioned on page 172. 106. Galileo . . . . . . . . . . 174 From the same. Mentioned on page 173. 107. Ambition 174 From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 186. 108. Hopelessness 174 From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 186. 109. Apprehensive Attention 175 From the same. Mentioned on page 173. no. Religious Rapture 175 From the same. Mentioned on pages 174, 175, 179. in. Unconfiding Attention 176 From the same Mentioned on pages 175, 176. 1 1 2. Unconvinced Attention 176 From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185. 1 13. Despair 176 From the same. Mentioned on pages 175, 185. 1 14. Unconfiding Pride 177 From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 176. 1 1 5. Malice 1 77 From the same. Mentioned on pages 177, 185. ILLUSTRATIONS. xxix PAGE 1 1 6. Satisfied Confidence 177 From the same. Mentioned on page 177. 1 1 7. Impudence 177 From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 178. 118. Faith 178 From the same. Mentioned on pages, 179, 187. 1 19. Apprehensive Astonishment . . . . . . .179 From the same. Mentioned on pages 174, 179, 185. 120. Triumph . 179 From the same. Mentioned on page 179. 121 . Rage and Fear . 181 From the same. Mentioned on pages 179, 181, 184, 186, 189. 122. Contemptuous Rage . 181 From the same. Mentioned on pages 175, 176, 178, 181, 182, 183, 186, 189. 123. Reflection 182 From Duval’s 14 Artistic Anatomy.” Mentioned on pages 182, 184, 185, 186, 188. 124. Contempt and Discontent 183 From the same. Mentioned on pages 121, 183, 185, 188. 125. Curiosity 184 From Well’s 14 New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 183, 184, 187. 126. Apprehensive Grief 184 From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 183, 184. 127. Laughter and Gayety ........ 185 From Duval’s 44 Artistic Anatomy.” Mentioned on pages 121, 183, 184, 185, 187. 128. Disappointed Desire 186 From Well’s 44 New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 174, 175, 179, 183, 184. 129. Terror . 1S6 From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 183, 184, 185, 188. 130. Attention and Astonishment 187 From Duval’s 44 Artistic Anatomy.” Mentioned on pages 186, 187. 131. Sorrow 187 From the same. Mentioned on pages 185, 186, 188. 132. Fear 188 From Well’s 44 New Physiognomy.” Mentioned on pages 178, 185, 186, 188. 133. Astonished Horror 18S From the same. Mentioned on pages 185, 186, 188. 134 to 136. De Superville’s Diagrams of Calmness, Gayety, and Sadness i8g From Duval’s 44 Artistic Anatomy.” Mentioned on page 189. 137 to 139. Duval’s Diagrams of Reflection, Laughter, and Sorrow 190 From the same. Mentioned on page 189. XXX ILL ULTRA TIONS. i4oand 141. Duval’s Diagrams of Attention, Astonishment, and Contempt From the same. Mentioned on page 189. 142 and 143. Duval’s Diagrams of Grief and Fear From the same. Mentioned on page 189. 144. Wells Cathedral, England From Cassell’s “ Our Own Country.” Mentioned on pages 203, 380, 405. 145. Figure Carved in Stone Age From Viardot’s 11 Wonders of Sculpture.” Mentioned on page 216. 146. Egyptian Picture from the “ Book of the Dead ” From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 2T9, 221, 222. 147. Ancient Egyptian P'ace in British Museum From Mitchell’s u History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 203, 222. 148. Figures from Frieze of the Parthenon .... From C. E. Clement’s “ Outline History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 223, 225, 281, 282, 396. 149. Venus Leaving the Bath : Capitol at Rome From Viardot’s “Wonders of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 76, 223, 225, 281, 282. 150. Ornamental Arcade from the Chapel at FIolyrood, Scotland ... From Fergusson’s “ History of Architecture.” Mentioned on page 226. 151. The Girlhood of the Virgin Mary, by Rossetti From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 230, 252, 295. 152. A Storm, by J. F. Millet From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 230, 253, 259, 260, 295, 300. 153. Cover of the Catalogue of New York Water Color Exhibition From the Critic. Mentioned on pages 232, 234. 154. Easter Advertisement of Gorham Manufacturing Co. From Gorham Manufacturing Co. Mentioned on page 236. 155. Relief from the Baptistry at Florence . From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 248, 286, 302. 156. The School of Athens, by Raphael From a photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 201, 248, 272, 287. 157. Jewish Cemetery, by Jacob Ruysdael From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on page 260. 158. Dignity and Impudence, by Landseer From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 262, 263. 159. Statue of Nathan Hale, by Macmonnies . From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 266, 281. 160. Card Players, by Caravaggio From Lubke’s “ History of Art,” Mentioned on pages 169, 172, 270. PAGE I90 190 205 215 219 221 223 224 227 229 231 233 235 247 249 261 263 267 27I ILL USTRA TIONS. XXXI PAGE 161. A Summer Evening, by Van Beers 273 From a photograph, with permission of C. T. Yerkes. Mentioned on pages 270, 271. 162. The Dream, by Detaille 275 From Cassell’s Magazine of A rt. Mentioned on page 272. 163. The Descent from the Cross, by Rubens .... 277 From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 202, 276, 287. 164. The Sacrifice at Lystra, by Raphael . .... 279 From Lubke’s u History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 158, 276, 287. 165. Titus — Statue from the Louvre 282 From Muller’s “ Denkmaler der Alten Kunst.”Mentioned page 281. 166. The Dying Galatian (or Gladiator) ..... 283 From Well’s “ New Physiognomy. Mentioned on pages 282, 283. 167. Treatment of Design in Relief, by W. Crane . . . 293 From Cassell’s Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 44, 46, 294, 307. 168. Effects of Distance on Magnitude, Light, Contrast, and Detail 297 From J. W. Stimson’s ” Principles and Methods in Art Education.” Mentioned on pages 28, 91, 206, 294, 296, 298, 304, 306, 308. 169. Leaving for Work, by J. F. Millet 299 From Cassell’s Magazine of A rt. Mentioned on pages 295, 300. 170. Tomb of Giuliano de’Medici, with Figures of Night and Day, by Angelo 301 From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 50, 301, 302. 171. Rock Tomb at Myra in Lycia 315 From the same. Mentioned on pages 315, 316, 375, 376, 387, 397, 403, 407. 172. Cave of Elephanta, India 317 From a water-color. Mentioned on pages 315, 316, 375, 376, 389, 407. 173. Development of Architectural Features .... 319 From Fergusson’s “ History of Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 52, 318, 319, 323, 343, 344, 360, 380. 174. Houses at Morlaix, France 324 From Cassell's “A Ramble Around France.” Mentioned on page 323. 175. The Starschina’s House, Eastern Russia .... 325 From Cassell’s “ All the Russias.” Mentionedon pages 323, 358, 403, 408. 176. Valmarina Palace, Vicenza, Italy 326 From Fergusson’s “ History of Modern Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 324, 348, 358, 380. 177. Exeter Hall 327 From a photograph of a drawing by H. A. Harris. Mentioned on pages 326, 330, 336. 178. An American Church 328 From Fergusson’s “ History of Modern Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 327, 330, 355. 179. Main Building, University of Pennsylvania . . . 329 From Cassell’s “ The World, Its Cities and Peoples.” Mentioned on pages 327, 331, 355, 371. XXXI 1 ILL US TRA TIONS. PAGE 180. High School Tower ........ 330 From a photograph of a drawing. Mentioned on pages 327, 330. 1S1. Support of a Church Roof . 331 From a photograph of a drawing. Mentioned on pages 329, 330. 182. Decoration of a Church Ceiling 332 From Fergusson’s “ History of Architecture.” Mentioned on page 330. 183. Normal School, Cfiristcherd, New Zealand . . . 333 From Cassell’s “ Picturesque Australia.” Mentioned on pages 331, 332, 355 , 358 , 359 - 184. Elevation of Proposed Albany Cathedral — Richardson, 335 From the New Ejigland Magazine. Mentioned on pages 334, 378, 380. 185. Cottage at Chiddingfold, England ..... 338 From R. Nevill’s 11 Old Cottage and Domestic Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 54, 337, 339, 358. 186. Cottage at Sandhills, England . . . . . . 339 From the same. Mentioned on page 338. 187. Cottage at Tuesley, England ...... 340 From the same. Mentioned on pages 323, 339, 358. 188. Inn at Chiddingfold, England 341 From the same. Mentioned on pages 340, 358, 359. 189. Unsted Farm, England ....... 342 From the same. Mentioned on pages 323, 341, 358. 190. Marien Platz, Munich 343 From Cassell’s ” Chats About Germany.” Mentioned on pages 54, 344, 360, 380. 191. Unter den Linden, Berlin 344 From the same. Mentioned on pages 344, 360, 364. 192. Boulevard, St. Michael, Paris 345 From Cassell’s “ Paris.” Mentioned on pages 84, 344, 363, 364, 370, 380. 193. Street and Belfry at Ghent 346 From Cassell’s “ The World, Its Cities and Peoples.” Mentioned on pages 344, 362, 380. 194. Strozzi Palace, Florence 347 From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 346, 347, 359, 360. 195. Chenonceau Chateau, France ...... 348 From the same. Mentioned on pages 346, 347, 352, 378. 196. Pavilion of Richelieu, Louvre, Paris .... 349 From Cassell’s ” The World, its Cities and Peoples.” Mentioned on pages 52, 348, 358, 359, 380. 197. Queen’s College, Galway ....... 350 From Cassell’s “ Our Own Country.” Mentioned on pages 84, 349, 355, 359 , 3 6o > 380. 198. University at Sydney, Australia ..... 351 From Cassell’s "Picturesque Australia.” Mentioned on pages 84, 324, 349 , 352 , 355 , 359 , 3 6 °, 3 62 , 3 ^ 9 , 380. ILL US TRA TIONS. XXX111 PAGE igg . Schiller Platz, Berlin 354 From Cassell’s “ Chats About Germany.” Mentioned on pages 354, 357, 380. 200. Mediaeval Castle 360 From Cassell's u Land of Temples.” Mentioned on page 360. 201. Madison Avenue, New York 361 From Munsey' s Magazine. Mentioned on pages 334, 360, 364, 380. 202. Trinity School, New York 363 From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 323, 362, 369. 203. Court of Honor, Columbian Exhibition, Chicago . . 365 From Cosmopolitan Magazine. Mentioned on pages 84, 203, 363, 364, 380. 204. Walker Museum, Chicago University .... 367 From the same. Mentioned on pages 369, 380. 205. Ryerson Physical Laboratory, Chicago University . 368 From the same. Mentioned on pages 369, 380. 206. Public Schools, Oxford, England 369 From a photograph of an engraving. Mentioned on pages 360, 369, 380. 207. Bedford Building, Boston 370 From the New England Magazine. Mentioned on pages 323, 371, 380. 208. Chiefs’ Houses, Kerepuna, Australia .... 374 From Cassell’s “ Picturesque Australia.” Mentioned on pages 80, 375, 37 6 , 378, 386, 397- 209. Restoration of the West End of the Acropolis, Athens, 375 From White’s ” Plutarch.” Mentioned on pages 376, 380, 386, 387, 397, 407. 210. Tent of Eastern Asia 376 From Cassell’s “Across Thibet.” Mentioned on pages 376, 386. 21 1 . Winter Palace, Pekin 377 From Fergusson’s “ History of Indian and Eastern Architecture.” Men- tioned on pages 358, 376, 380, 386. 212. Hottentot Krall 379 From Cassell’s “ The World, its Cities and its Peoples.” Mentioned on pages 80, 377, 384. 213. Kaffir Station, Africa 381 From Cassell’s “ Races of Mankind.” Mentioned on pages 377, 378, 384. 214. Negro Huts, Iyourounding Koto, Soudan . . . 383 From Cassell’s “ The World, its Cities and its Peoples.” Mentioned on pages 80, 378, 384. 215. Greek Doric Temple of yEGiNA 387 From Fergusson's “ History of Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 380, 389, 396. 216. Greek Ionic Order 388 From Cassell’s ” Manual of Greek Archaeology.” Mentioned on pages 380, 389. 217. Antefix of Marble from Temple of /Egina . . . 389 From the same. Mentioned on pages 389, 398. 218. Doorway of Troitzka Monastery, Russia .... 390 From Fergusson’s “ History of Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 380, 388, 390. XXXIV ILL USTRA TIONS. PAGE 219. Interior of San Vitale, Ravenna 391 From the same. Mentioned on pages 380, 390. 220. Choir of Ely Cathedral, England . 392 From the same. Mentioned on pages 78, 380, 390, 40s. 221. Portal at Persepolis, Persia 393 From photograph of an Engraving. Mentioned on pages 393, 398. 222. Acroterium and Gutter, Temple of ALgin a . . . 393 From Cassell’s 11 Manual of Greek Archaeology. 1 ’ Mentioned on pages 389. 393 . 398 . 223. Egyptian Hieraco Sphinx 393 From C. E. Clement's “ Outline History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 393, 398. 224. Gargoyle from Cologne Cathedral 394 Photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 393, 394, 398. 225. Capital from a Tomb at Persepolis, Persia . . . 394 Photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 394, 398. 226. Greek Corinthian Capital ....... 394 From Cassell’s u Manual of Greek Archaeology.” Mentioned on pages 380, 387, 396. 227. Temple at Ipsambool, Egypt 394 Photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 396, 398. 228. Capital at Denderah, Egypt 395 From Lubke’s “ History of Art.” Mentioned on pages 396, 398. 229. Giants from Temple of Agrigentum 395 From Mitchell’s u History of Sculpture.” Mentioned on pages 396, 398. 230. Capital from Cathedral at Rheims 395 From Fergusson’s “ History of Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 390, 396 , 39 8 - 231. Corbel from Cathedral at Rheims 396 From the same. Mentioned on pages 38, 390, 396, 398. 232. Temple at Buddha Gaya, India 400 From Fergusson’s “ Indian and Eastern Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 380, 399. 233. Temple at Mukteswara, India 401 From the same. Mentioned on pages 380, 399. 234. Aisle of Henry VII. ’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey, England 404 From Fergusson’s ” History of Architecture.” Mentioned on pages 380, 403, 405. The author wishes to express his sense of obligation to the various artists, authors, and publishers, to whom he is indebted for kind permission to insert in this book such illustrations as are owned by them, or protected by their copyrights, especially to Messrs. Dodd, Mead & Co., Fowler & Wells, Charles Scribners’ Sons, and F. A. St-okes & Co. of New York, Cassell & Co. and John Murray of London, and Ebner & Seubert of Stuttgart. PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE AS REPRESENTATIVE ARTS XXXV PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHI- TECTURE AS REPRESENTATIVE ARTS. CHAPTER I. CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES OF REPRE- SENTATION IN THE ARTS OF SOUND AND OF SIGHT. The Higher Arts as All Representative — Of Mental Processes — Of Mate- rial Phenomena — The Principle of Correspondence by Way of Asso- ciation and Comparison, as Applied to Language — Representation by Instinctive Exclamations — By Reflective Imitative Sounds — Poetry and Music as Developed from these Two Methods — Correspondences by Way of Association and Comparison in the Arts of Sight — Differences in the Ways in which the Two are Recognized and Used — The Instinc- tive and Reflective Tendencies as Respectively Manifested in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture — The Emotive as a Combination of Both Tendencies — Illustrated by Facts. J N the volume of this series of essays entitled “ Art in Theory,” an endeavor was made to show that art in general is nature made human, and that art of the highest character is nature made human in the highest sense. It was pointed out that, for this kind of art, only such forms of nature are available as are audible and visible ; and that these forms in such art are well used only when made significant of thoughts and emotions. In accord- ance with this understanding, it was maintained that all the higher arts are representative, and this in two senses, i 2 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. —representative rather than presentative of the artist’s thought or feeling (“Art in Theory,” pp. 47 to 61), which fact causes them to be appropriately termed the humani- ties ; and representative rather than imitative of that which he has taken from his audible or visible environ- ment (pages 34 to 46), which latter fact causes them to be appropriately termed the arts of form, i. e., of appear- ance (page 9), or aesthetic, i. e., fitted to be perceived (page 102). As justifying the first sense in which the term is used, the reader was reminded that, as thoughts and emotions cannot be heard or seen in themselves, they cannot be presented or communicated to our fellows directly. They must be represented indirectly ; i.e., through the use of a medium differing from themselves in that it can be heard and seen. This medium the mind must find in material nature, the sounds and sights of which it can accept, imi- tate, modify, and develop for the purposes of expression, but cannot originate (pages 3 to 5). While saying this, however, it was also said that, among the sounds of nature which may be used for artistic purposes must be included any sounds whatever, even though trace- able to men. Their material bodies are manifestations of material nature ; and, this being so, of course the same is true of their instinctively used, and what we may term natural, as distinguished from artistic, vocal utter- ances. Among the sights of nature, again, must be included, for the same reason, any visible movements or constructions of men ; and, this being so, of course included among them must be also their instinctively used gestures. Owing to the imperceptible character of that which is within our minds, all outward expressions of this, and, therefore, all art, even of the most ordinary CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. 3 kind, must exemplify the principle of representation. But the highest art must do so most emphatically. This is because it must give expression to processes of thought and emotion of the highest, in the sense of the most subtle, quality, and as these processes are the most distinctively mental, they are the most distinctively different in essence from any material form through which they can be ex- pressed. It is, therefore, particularly necessary that when used as a vehicle for them the form should manifest this difference ; and it can do so in the degree only in which it manifests clearly what is its own nature as contrasted with theirs ; in other words, in the degree only in which its representative, as contrasted with any possibly presen- tative character, is particularly emphasized by being made particularly apparent. This statement suggests that there is a connection be- tween the use in art of the term representation, as mean- ing the expression of thought and emotion, and its more ordinary use in the second sense mentioned in our opening paragraph, i. e., as meaning the reproduction of external phenomena. This connection arises from the fact that the communicative intention of the forms of expression can be made particularly apparent in the degree only in which the imitative character of the factors composing the forms — that is of the sounds and sights of external nature — is made apparent. This is the ground taken in Chapters VI. and VIII. of “Art in Theory,” which are devoted to showing that the representation of thoughts and emotions and of external sounds and sights necessarily go together. An artificially shaped machine, it was said, at once suggests the question, “What can it do?” But a drawing or carving with a form resembling something in nature never suggests this question, but rather, “ What 4 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. did the man who drew the object think about it or of it that he should have made a copy it ? ” The principle that renders it possible for the forms of art to represent, in the senses just indicated, both mental processes and material surroundings is, in general, that of correspondence. But, subordinately, there are two different, though closely related, principles in accordance with which this correspondence may be manifested. One prin- ciple — which is the one mainly involved in the representa- tion of thoughts and emotions — is that of association ; the other, which is mainly involved in the representation of the appearances of nature, is that of comparison. For instance, to refer brieffv to what will show the bearings of our present discussion upon the whole subject of art, it was said, when speaking, in “ Poetry as a Representative Art,” of the rise of language and its subsequent develop- ments in poetry, that the earliest sounds made by a babe are instinctive , by which is meant, as explained there, that they are allied in nature to expressions of instinct, due, even in a rational being, to the operation less of conscious rationality than of natural forces vitalizing all sentient existence. These instinctive sounds, it was said, seem to be accepted as words in fulfilment, mainly, of the principle of association. The child cries and crows while the mother hums and chuckles, and both understand each other. They communicate through what may be termed ejaculations or interjections. This kind of language is little above the level of that of the brutes; in fact, it is of the same nature as theirs. The sounds seem to have a purely muscular or nervous origin ; and for this reason may be supposed to have no necessary connection with any particular thought or psychic state intended to be expressed by them. Nevertheless, we all understand the CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. 5 meanings of them when produced by the lower animals, as well as when made by man. Everywhere, certain ejacu- lations are recognized to be expressive of the general tenor of certain feelings, as of pleasure and pain, desire and aversion, surprise and fright. This fact shows that there is a true sense in which these utterances are representative. “ However merely animal in their nature the earliest ex- clamations may have been,” says Farrar, in his “ Lan- guage and Languages,” “they were probably the very first to acquire the dignity and significance of reasonable speech, because in their case, more naturally than in any other, the mere repetition of the sound would, by the association of ideas , involuntarily recall the sensation of which the sound was so energetic and instantaneous an exponent. In the discovery of this simple law, which a very few instances would reveal to the mind of man, lay the discovery of the Idea of Speech. The divine secret of language — the secret of the possibility of perfectly ex- pressing the unseen and immaterial by an articulation of air which seemed to have no analogy with it — the secret of accepting sounds as the exponents and signs of every- thing in the ‘ choir of heaven and furniture of earth ’ — lay completely revealed in the use of two or three despised interjections. To borrow a simile from the eloquent pages of Herder, they were the sparks of Promethean fire which kindled language into life.” The principle of association in connection with the use of natural exclamations, accounts probably for the origin not only of actual interjections, but of other sounds also, like the sibilants, aspirates, and gutturals, giving their peculiar qualities to the meanings of syllables like those in hush, hist, and kick. Some, too, think that it accounts for the origin of words like is, me, and that, cognate with 6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , WiVZ) ARCHITECTURE. the Sanskrit, ARCHITECTURE. material effect ; but if there be many parts, separated by many outlines, that need to be carefully observed and studied in order that each detail of shape may be per- ceived and understood, then it is the mental effect of which we chiefly think. With the thought of the physical effect comes, too, a suggestion of an instinctive action of the mind ; and with the mental effect a suggestion of a re- flective action. Thus huge stones in a doorway, or huge pillarsin a porch having heavy masonry above them, are so evidently necessary in order to afford the needed physi- cal support, that it seems as if the builder must have chosen them instinctively rather than reflectively. But the light steel rods and bars in suspen- sion or cantilever bridges are so evidently indicative of the results of experiment and contrivance, that we cannot avoid the impression that they were determined upon as the result of reflection. FIG. 1. — FARNESE HERCULES BY QLYCON , , . the Athenian. Often, however, the heavy See pages 21, 24, 26, 281. doorway or column may be so carefully carved, so minutely divided by outlines into all sorts of details of shape, that it suggests not only the physical but also the mental, not only the instinctive but also the reflective ; and it is then that, in accordance with CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE FACTORS. 21 what was said on page 1 1, we have that emotive manifes- tation universally attributed to that artistic development of the technicalities of building which we term architec- ture. Or consider another example. The human form, on account of the obvious blending in it of the physical and the mental, the instinc- tive and the reflective, al- ways conveys (see page 1 1 again) some impression of emotive effects. Yet ob- serve how much more the purely physical effect pre- dominates in the bulky limbs of the Hercules, Fig. i, page 20, than it does in the slender limbs of the Flying Mercury, Fig. 2 , page 2i. Is it not true, too, that the very shape of the former suggests less capacity for mental action than does that of the latter, whose whole appearance suggests at once an em- bodiment of energetic in- telligence? bee pages 2i, 25, 2b, b2, 73, 135, 152. Again, we shall find that, as applied to touch or hand- ling, the physical and, in this sense, instinctive expression of will-power is chiefly conveyed through the degrees of strength manifested in the outlines ; that the purely mental and, in this sense, reflective expression of the same is chiefly conveyed through the use that is made of curves, angles, or combinations of them, while in those uses of FIG. 2.— FLYING MERCURY, BY GIOVANNI DA BOLOGNA. See pages 21, 25, 26, 62 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. degrees and gradations of outlines that lead to regularity or the lack of it, we find the possibilities of emotive ex- pression. Finally, as applied to the pitch and quality of color, we shall find that darker phases of it — as in those greens, blues, and grays which predominate in the natural world about us — are the colors that most naturally recall surrounding physical appearances, and, therefore, are the ones most likely to be used when trying to represent these ; and that the brighter hues, as in the reds, oranges, and yellows, indicative, as they usually are, notwith- standing their exceptional presence in flowers and autumn foliage, of things that a man has painted or dyed, are those most likely to suggest him, and, therefore a mental influ- ence ; while it is through an appropriate blending of the two extremes, i. e ., through the use of great variety of color, that the most effective appeal is made to the emotions. It has been thought best to make these statements here by way of anticipation, in order to aid the reader in forming an intelligent conception of that toward which the more ample explanations of the discussion that is to follow are to be directed. CHAPTER III. REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF EXTENSION OR SIZE. Representation in Art Based upon Methods of Expressing Thought and Emotion through the Use of the Human Body — Size as Representing Heaviness, Strength, Immovability, Substantiality, or the Opposite — As Representing the Important, Influential, Dignified, or the Opposite — The Representations of these Conceptions Made Consistent with the Representation of Actual External Appearances through the Laws of Perspective as Indicating Nearnesss — Differences between Require- ments of Representation in these Arts and in Music and Architecture — Similarity, Nevertheless, in the Methods of Representation — As Applied also to the Laws of Perspective — Recapitulation and Illustrations of these Methods as Applied to Size. HE principles that have just been stated have now to be exemplified as manifested in each of the elemen- tary factors of visible representation. The first of these was said to be extension or size. As indicated in Chapter XX. of “ Art in Theory,” any of these factors have a meaning for a man because of the expressional uses which he himself makes or sees others make of like factors in his own body. Thus the sounds employed in poetry and music represent thought and emotion, because of what men know of the audible representation of the same through the utterances of the human voice ; and in a simi- lar way things that are seen represent thought and emo- tion because of what men know of the visible repre- sentation of the same through the movements of the human muscles. 23 24 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AAA) ARCHITECTURE. To apply this to size, men have learned through their own experience in lifting, or from what they have seen of others’ lifting, that a large object, one that fills a large amount of space, is, as a rule, heavier than small objects, FIG. 3.— MELROSE ABBEY, SCOTLAND. See pages 25, 26, 32, 34, 203, 322, 380, 390. and can consequently bear a heavier weight or, as we say, is stronger. It is evident, therefore, that comparatively large limbs, like those of the Farnese Hercules, Fig. 1, page 20. REPRESENTATION BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. 25 and large pillars like those of Melrose Abbey, Fig. 3, page 24, necessarily suggest, by way of association, such conceptions as heaviness , strength , immovability , or substan- tiality ; whereas comparatively slender limbs, like those of HG. 4.— CHURCH NEAR KOSTROMA, RUSSIA. See pages 25, 26, 32, 34. the Flying Mercury, Fig. 2, page 21, or small pillars like those of the interior of the church near Kostroma, Fig. 4, page 25, suggest, in the same way, a lack of weight and therefore such conceptions as lightness , weakness , inova- 26 PAINTING , SULPTURE , ^ /VZ> ARCHITECTG RE. bility, or unsubstantiality. No one would expect the Hercules to be able to fly, but he might expect this of the Mercury. The columns of Melrose Abbey would seem out of place unless the roof were very heavy ; and those of the church at Kostroma would be equally out of place unless the roof were very light. We cannot imagine any attempt to remove intact the former building from the place in which we find it ; but it is not impossi- ble to conceive of putting rollers under the latter and transporting it across the country. Just here it may be well to point out the confirmation afforded by these facts of the view advanced in “ Art in Theory,” that beauty involves effects produced by sig- nificance as well as by form ; or, to quote the language there used, that “ Beauty is a characteristic of any complex form of varied elements producing apprehensible unity (i. c., harmony or likeness) of effects upon the motive organs of sensation in the ear or eye, or upon the emotive sources of imagination in the mind ; or upon both the one and the other.” Notice how true this is, as applied precisely where the opponents of this view would be most likely to say that it could not be applied i. e., to the human form. No possible conception of the mere effects of curves, straight lines, or angles could account for the lack of beauty which all feel to be characteristic of clumsy joints, as at the neck, wrists, and ankles ; or of fragile centres of force, as in the head, chest, and calves. The only way in which to account for these effects of size is to acknowledge that, by way of association, the former suggest a lack of agility and, therefore, of the possibilities of grace, and the latter a lack of brain, breath, or brawn, and, therefore, of the possibilities of strength. But to go back to the line of thought from which this RE PRESENTATION BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. 2 7 is a digression, it may be said again that an object of large size, as contrasted with surrounding objects of small size, represents that which is important or influential. To recognize this fact, as well as another, which is that, ac- cording to the methods of expression in art as actually developed, the desire to represent mental conceptions sug- FIQ. 6.— HERACLES, TRITON, AND NEREIDS FROM DORIC TEMPLE AT ASSOS. See pages 27, 222. gestively by way of association antedates the desire to represent imitatively the actual conditions of external appearances, notice the size of the king in Fig. 5, page 2 7, illustrating early Egyptian art ; also that of the Hercules in Fig. 6, page 27, illustrating early Greek art ; as well as in that of Henry II. in Fig. 7, page 29, illustrating the early 28 PAINTI.XG, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. art of the middle ages. The large form in each of these figures clearly indicates, byway of association, the artist’s idea of its relative importance and influence; but it fails to indicate by way of comparison any condition that he could even have conceived it possible to imitate from actual appearances. Notice that it is mainly for this reason, too, that the figures do not illustrate high art. As has been maintained throughout this series of essays, high art must represent both one’s conceptions concerning forms, and the actual conditions in which the forms appear in nature. But how, it may be asked, can art by means of size represent one of many figures as being more important, and yet represent all of the figures as being of the same relative size as in nature? How but precisely as was done in later Greek art, and is done in all our art of to-day? — namely, by an application of the natural laws of perspective, i. e., by depicting the important figure or figures as being in the foreground of an art-pro- duct and the unimportant figures as being in the back- ground. This can produce the desired effect because, in addition to what has been indicated already, large size, as contrasted with small, indicates nearness. See Fig. 8, page 31, also Fig. 168, page 297. Accordingly, by carry- ing out the laws of perspective, the grouping, either in painting or sculpture, may be made to represent both the relations in the mind of the conceptions which are asso- ciated with the figures, and also the relations in nature of the appearances of the figures with which those of the art-product are made to compare. The fact of the representation both of mental processes and of material appearances is more difficult to recognize in architecture and music than in the other arts. This is because of the different mode of expression of which FIG. 7.— HENRY II. RECEIVES FROM GOD THE CROWN, HOLY LANCE, AND IMPERIAL SWORD. (From Henry's Missal. ”) See page 27. 29 30 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ^ A '/9 ARCHITECTURE. these other arts are developments. This mode is termed in “ Art in Theory ” responsive and unsustained, which terms are intended to indicate that the forms are occa- sioned by an endeavor to respond to one and, afterwards, to another outside interruption, or, at least, emergency, as is exemplified when a cat moves about and mews, or when a bird flits from branch to branch and chirps, or when a man, gazing from one to another of his sur- roundings, refers frequently to what he hears here or sees there. If he do this by word, we have that which develops into poetry ; if by deed, that which develops into painting or sculpture. But, aside from this mode of expression, there is another which may be termed subjec- tive and sustained. In accordance with this, the cat keeps quiet and purrs, the bird stays on one branch and sings, and the man works and hums to himself, developing a plan or a melody from some single outside suggestion, without consciousness of interruption, — or not, at least, of anything like frequent interruption — in which other things are suggested. It is this subjective and sustained mood that is at the basis of representation in architecture and music. Because the mood is subjective rather than responsive, there is less necessity in these arts than in poetry, painting, or sculpture for expressing thoughts and emotions in such ways that they shall communicate definite information ; and because the method of expres- sion is sustained, there is less consciousness of external surroundings, and therefore less tendency to describe and imitate their appearances. For these reasons, the resem- blances to external appearances at the bases of these two subjective arts are comparatively few. They are some- times comprehended in a single significant series of out- lines or of tones from which the whole product is FIQ. 8. — POLLICE VERSO, BY QER6mE. See pages 28, 34, 91, 274, 287, 295. 32 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. developed in a way not possible in poetry, painting, or sculpture. But because the method is different in its practical application, it must not be supposed that it is different in principle. The representation, though not the same in degree, is not radically different in kind. It has already been shown, for instance, that by way of as- sociation, pillars of large size may represent the conception of strength as applied to support. It is evident, too, that they can do this no matter what may be the shape of that which is above them. But suppose that, taking a suggestion, as the early architects apparently did, from the way in which limbs branch out from tree-trunks (see Figs. 9, page 33 ; 43, page 84; and 44, page 85), the wood and stone which the pillars support are also made to branch off from them as in arches (see Fig. 3, page 24) or that, taking a suggestion from the way in which the petals of flowers branch out from their stems, the different parts of the tops of the columns are made to branch out from them as in the Egyptian capital, Fig. 10, page 34, or the Greek Corinthian capital, Fig. 1 1, page 34, is it not evident that, when this has been done, something has been done which adds to the representation of the mere conception of supporting strength, a representation of an effect that is produced by appearances in nature? Again, the laws of perspective, in architecture, as in painting and sculpture, give to large as contrasted with small size an effect of nearness. Massive outlines, therefore, in walls, pillars, ceilings, domes, spires, lessen our appreciation of their distance from us. It is safe to say that, although their actual measurements were the same, the width of the floor-space represented in Fig. 3, page 24, would appear to be scarcely more than half that in Fig. 4, page 25. So, too, owing to the massing of out- 33 FIG. 9.— A SCENE IN THE WOODS. See pages 32, 73, 399. 34 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. FIG. 10— EGYPTIAN LOTUS-LEAF CAPITAL FROM EDFU. lines in large, unbroken spaces, the church represented in Fig. 12, page 35, would, at the same distance, appear to be so much nearer us than would the more minute outlines in Fig. 13, page 36, that these might seem rela- tively larger and higher. In fact, this effect of the massing of spaces is one reason why, as a rule, most Greek buildings (Fig. 14, page 36) or Greco-Roman (Fig. 12, page 35) appear See pages 32, 394, 398. smaller and lower than Gothic buildings of approximate dimensions. One must not lose sight of the fact, however, that these effects are subject also to the principle of contrast. In the painting in Fig. 8, page 31, it is the contrast between the larger forms at the front and the smaller at the rear that cause the former to seem nearer. So in architecture. Not- withstanding the ef- fects of slight distance conveyed by the large pillars in Fig. 3, page 24, the contrast be- tween the width and the height Of the See pages 32, 330, 398 . whole building being greater than between the same dimensions in Fig. 4, page 25, may give a greater impres- sion of height than is conveyed by the latter. Notice FIG. 11.— OLD CORINTHIAN CAPITAL FROM BRANCHIDAE. REPRESENTATION BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. the same principle as exemplified in the effect of the tower in Fig. 24, page 52, as contrasted with that in Fig. - 5 ’ P a ff e 53 - A s in a h Gothic buildings the height usually FIG. 12— ST. ISAAC’S, ST. PETERSBURG. See pages 34, 36, 38, 42, 52, 82, 352, 353, 356, 380. exceeds the width to an extent not true of other styles, we see a second reason for their apparently greater alti- tude. To observe this, compare the effects of the Gothic forms in Fig. 41, page 81, with the Greek forms in Fig. 14, 36 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , .TA^Z> ARCHITECTURE. page 36, the Greco-Roman forms in Fig. 12, page 35, and the combination of the Romanesque and Byzan- tine in Fig. 15, page 3 7. Another reason for this effect of altitude in Gothic buildings will be found on page 68. Further explanations of methods of representing, in architecture, both men- tal conceptions and mate- rial appearances, will be found in Chapters XVII. to XXI. At present, enough has been said to enable the reader to under- stand the general tenor of what is meant by affirming that this is possible, and, for the highest excellence, is FIG. 14. — TEMPLE OF THESEUS, ATHENS. See pages 34, 35, 38, 42, 52, 84, 86, 322, 323, 380, 3S6, 387, 389. REPRESENTATION BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. 37 essential. Not only in painting and sculpture, but in architecture also, relatively large and small extension, corresponding in this regard to relatively long and short duration, have inevitable representative effects. Either by way of association or of comparison, or of both, they respectively indicate what is heavy , strong , substantial , immovable , important, influential, dignified, near, on the one hand ; or else, on the other hand, what is light, weak, unsubstantial, movable, unimportant, uninfluent ial. FIG. 15.— CHURCH OF ST. MARK, VENICE. See pages 36, 3S, 42, 52, 78, 82, 86, 380. undignified, remote. It is this principle that causes us, when looking at objects, to think more of a statue than of a doll, more of a cathedral than of a cottage, more of the fingers on a statue than of the fringe on which, perhaps, they rest, and more of the towers and domes of a building than of its chimneys and ventilators. The same principle applied in connection with the natural laws of perspective, causes us to give more consideration to the full-sized figures in the foreground of a paint- j 8 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , .4AV3 ARCHITECTURE. ing than to the minute objects in its background. If the picture be designed to interest us in animals, this fact is represented by large size that brings them to the front ; if in a pasture in which they are feeding, by small size that sends them to the rear. Overbalancing foliage, with a cherub’s face just visible in it, emphasizes the prodigal- ity of inanimate nature. A full-sized statue, with a few flowers about it, emphasizes the pre-eminence of man. Contrast the lower and upper parts of Fig. 231, page 396. In a building, the requirements for the support either of many occupants or of a heavy superstructure are repre- sented by large foundations, walls, or pillars (see Fig. 14, page 36) ; accommodation for crowds, by wide entrances (see St. Mark’s, Fig. 15, page 37); for light, in large, high rooms, by large windows (see Fig. 13, page 36); and for air, by high roofs or domes (Fig. 12, page 35, and Fig. 15. page 37). CHAPTER IV. REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SHAPE : THE ACCENTING OR SHADING OF OUTLINES. Force, Pitch, and Quality, as Exemplified in the Arts of Sound — Illus- tration — Pause and Accent as Correlated to Outline and Shading — Touch or Handling as Differing in Strength, Gradation, and Regularity: Strength — Examples of Strength and Delicacy of Touch in Outline Sketches — Other Examples — The Same as Applied in Con- nection with Color — As Applied in Sculpture — As Applied in Architec- ture — The Importance of the Effects of Light and Shade in this Art. TT EFORE passing on to representation as produced by shape as distinguished from size, let us recall again, and elaborate that which on page 15 was said to corre- spond in the arts of sound to shape. In that place the reader was reminded that a syllable or note exemplifying one form of duration, whether long or short, is always separated from another either by a pause involving an en- tire cessation of sound, or by some change in the mode of utterance, involving a cessation in the character of the sound, and that, in the latter case, the change is produced, first of all, by a difference in what is variously called force , intensity, stress, or accent. This difference causes a tone, by means of degrees of strength, gradation , or regularity, to be shaded, so to speak, to an ideal pause before it passes into another. Combined with this difference there was mentioned also a possible difference in pitch, one tone be- 39 40 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. ing made higher or lower, as related to the musical scale, than another tone ; and a possible difference in quality, one tone being articulated, vocalized, or, as we say, colored as another is not. The truth of these statements will be recognized upon reading the following. Elocutionists are accustomed to say that, in doing so, one should pause at the ends of the lines and at other places, some of which are indicated by the vertical bars. But notice that, when the verses are well read, there are seldom anywhere any real cessations of sound ; also that, in passing from one syllable to another, there is always a difference in accent or intensity, as well as, frequently, differences in pitch and quality or tone- color. Who would he A mermaid fair, Singing alone. Curling her hair Under the sea, In a golden curl With a comb of pearl. On a throne ? I / would be / a mermaid / fair. I would sing / to myself / the whole / of the day : With a comb / of pearl / I would comb / my hair ; And still / as I combed / I would sing / and say, “ Who is it loves me ? who loves not me ? ” The Mermaid : Tennyson. In the realm of sight vacancies, and, in the arts of sight, strongly marked outlines that separate one part of the whole extension or space from other parts, giving it thus what we term shape, correspond to pauses in the arts of sound. But shape is indicated not only by these outlines at the top, sides, or bottom of an object or parts of an object; REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SHAPE. 41 or rough, drawing but often also by the accent given to the outlines through the shading of them ; and it is always indicated by this when it is neces- sary to show the shape of a sur- face that is fac- ing us, as wheth- er it be concave or convex, or whether its text- ure be fine or coarse, smooth In and painting, shad- ing is general- ly produced through using lines or masses in black or in color, which, for this purpose, are either abruptly or gradually, les- sened in number or intensity (see Fig. 16). In sculpture and architecture the same effect is produced as a natural result of a projection or depression of surfaces, which brings certain FIG. 16.— LIGHT AND SHADE. W. CRANE. See pages 18, 41, 44, 46, 294, 307. 42 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , WjVZ? ARCHITECTURE. parts into the light and sends others into the shade. See Figs. 12-15 in the last chapter. The connection between outlining and shading is, therefore, very close, and evidently the effect indicated by the former word, as ordinarily used, includes the conceptions suggested by both. An object may be outlined either by an actual line separating its sides from other objects, or by the shading which, with or with- out actual lines, is so disposed as to indicate the character of the surface or texture. Notice, too, that the word out- line, as thus used, may refer either to a narrow pencil-line, as in drawing, or to a much broader brush-line, as in paint- ing, or to a very broad protuberance or string-course, even to a column or entablature, as in sculpture or architecture. Taking the term outlines in this general sense, as fac- tors entering into the appearances of art, which, as appearances, no matter how caused, are representative, three general ways, as stated on page 15, may be recog- nized in which the touch or handling, producing these outlines, may differ, namely in strength , in gradatioti, and in regularity. In the first place, just as force when ap- plied to sounds may be loud or soft, so the effects of touch may be heavy or light, coarse or fine ; and may thus rep- resent, as indicated on page 19 the greater or lesser degrees of mental energy or strength expended by the artist, or of material energy or strength attributable to the appearance which is reproduced. Fortunately, in a place where one could not satisfacto- rily introduce illustrations containing color, it has been found possible to obtain sketches which, without possess- ing color, can illustrate this statement. They are all the more satisfactory, too, inasmuch as they were intended by the artist who drew them to illustrate not this subject, but another to which reference will be made later. FIG. 17.— LINES EXPRESSIVE OF STORM. W. ChANE. 44 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AAAO ARCHITECTURE. Compare Fig. 17, page 43 with Fig 18, page 45. Is it not a fact that the heavier and coarser lines characterizing the first of these, give one an entirely different conception of the degree of mental energy exerted by the artist, than do the lighter and finer lines characterizing the second? From the first we receive an impression of strength ; from the second, an impression of delicacy. Were the two pro- duced by different artists, and were these the only speci- mens of their work that we had seen, we might be justified in saying that the style of the one was characterized by strength, and the style of the other by delicacy, and we might infer that the difference in their styles was owing to a difference in their mental characteristics. But notice, now, that there is a reason outside of the mind of the artist for the manifestation of energy in the one sketch and of a lack of energy in the other. He has been true to the conditions that inspired him. He has shown men- tal energy in the first drawing because nature itself had shown him energy in the appearance which he was to reproduce. These heavy lines are representative not merely of his own moods, but of these as excited by what he has seen, and with which therefore his moods are in sympathy. Nothing, so well as such lines, could manifest the impetuous fury of the storm, the violent swaying of the trees, or the resisting strength of these and of the rocks. Nor could anything, so well as the delicate lines, represent the restful gentleness of the other scene, the trees of which look as if unable to stand the slightest blow, and the shores of which seem ready to yield to the feeblest flood. Again contrast Fig. 16 page 41 with Fig. 167 page 293, and observe how, even aside from other causes contributing to the effect, the ..lines in the latter figure, though only FIG. 18.— LINES EXPRESSIVE OF REPOSE. V/. CRANE. See pages, 18, 44, 70, 73, 90, 92, 95, 259. 46 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. slightly stronger, make it representative of mental energy in a sense not quite so true of the former ; and, as related to the representation of natural appearances, observe in Fig. 16 the comparatively fine lines or the lack of lines used in delineating the texture of the marble and of the flowers ; and observe in Fig. 167, page 293, the same kinds of lines used in delineating the sky, as well as the boy’s flesh and garments. Is it not a fact that these differences in the shading or strength of lines, in such cases, can be rightly termed representative both of mental and material con- ditions ? Of course, the same general principles must apply to lines produced through the use of color also. “ By a few strokes,” says Reynolds, in his eleventh “ Discourse on Painting,” “ Titian knew how to mark the general image and character of whatever object he attempted ; and pro- duced, by this alone, a truer representation than his master, Giovanni Bellini, or any of his predecessors who finished every hair.” In a passage, too, which, as indi- cated by the italics here introduced, might be quoted in confirmation of the theory presented in this book, because undoubtedly referring at times to the representation of mind, and at other times to the representation of material nature, Charles Blanc says, in his “ Grammar of Painting and Engraving,” translated by R. N. Doggett; “ touch is the handwriting of the painter, the stroke of his mind. . . . Leonardo da Vinci treated all his pictures with equal touch, smooth and melting. Titian himself made little difference, and only in the ‘ Peter Martyr ’ and ‘ The As- sumption ’ he seems led by his subject to accents more animated, more marked than usual. . . . Poussin, painting ‘ Pyrrhus Saved ’ or the ‘ Rape of the Sabines ’ [Fig. 36, page 75], treats his painting with a manly hand REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SNARE. 47 and intentional rudeness, while he guides the pencil with more gentleness when he represents ‘ Rebecca ’ and her companions. Rubens expresses his feelings with more energy than ever when he puts on the stage the peasants of the ‘ Kermesse ’ or the furious, breathless hunters of the ‘ Wild Boar.’ . . . Michael Angelo executed with extreme delicacy the grand ‘ Prophets ’ of the Sistine Chapel and the ter- rible figures of the ‘ Last Judgment’; but it is an example not to be imitated . . . Touch ought to be varied . . . according to the character of the objects. . . . Look at one of Greuze’s young girls, weeping over a brok- en picture or a dead bird ; beside the fine, delicate, transparent, satiny flesh, the chemise is rendered by a pencil that does not give even the idea of lines, or give an idea so gross as to shock. . . . Teniers, FIG. 19.— PALLAS OF VELLETRI : LOUVRE, PARIS. See pages 49, 76, 281. on the contrary, admirably accommodates his touch to the physiognomy of each object. Without the least difficulty, and as if in sport, he recognizes and characterizes the flesh tints ; here the fresh, thin skin of a young farm girl, there the rough skin of an old fiddler. . . . But outside of these conventionalities which require that the handling of 48 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. the pencil should be varied, the touch of the painter will always be good if it is natural, that is, according to his heart. Ribera is coarse, but his coarseness does not dis- please, because it is sin- cere. Rembrandt has a mysterious palette, be- cause he has a genius dreamy and profound. Velasquez is frank, be- cause his pencil is guided by the muse of truth. The touch of Poussin is like his character, noble and expressively simple. Rubens handled the brush with the nerve and warmth that animated him. . . . Prud’hon, am- orous and sad poet, chose a soft, sweet execution that lulled lines to sleep, tranquillized shadows, and let nature appear only through a veil of love and poetry.” The same differences between the representa- tive effects of strength in outline are perceptible in sculpture also. It is between a statue’s being clothed and being unclothed that causes the energetic, firm dignity of effect produced by the many strong lines FIG. 20.— APOLLO (SAUROCTONOS). PRAXITELES: VATICAN. See pages 49, 61, 76, 136, 223, 28] not onlv. the distinction REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SNARE. 49 in Fig. 19, page 47, and the yielding and graceful, but com- paratively weak effect, so far as concerns character, pro- duced by the smooth surfaces of Fig. 20, page 48. The FIG. 21.— THE LAOCOON GROUP. See pages 49, 77, 174, 223, 281, 284, 285. forms in the Laocoon, Fig. 21, page 49, are not clothed ; but notice the feeling of energy and strength conveyed bv the way in which the serpent and the human limbs are 50 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. projected from the deep shadows which the arrangement of them necessitates. The same is true of Michael Angelo’s statue of “ Giuliano de’ Medici, with Figures of Night and Day ” (Fig. 170, page 301). Notice in this that not only the arrangement of the limbs but of all the sur- faces is designed to bring out strongly contrasting effects FIG. 22.— GROUP FROM MAUSOLEUM OF MARIA CHRISTINA. CANOVA AT VIENNA. See pages 50, 73, 263, 286. of light and shade. So, too, compare the strong, energetic effect of the high relief in Fig. 22, page 50, with the somewhat less strong effect in the lower relief in Fig. 23, page 51, and the weak effect where there is no relief at all, as in Fig. 5, page 27. As Barry, in the fifth of the “ Lectures by the Royal Academicians,” says, with reference to this art : “ In groups and figures in the round. REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SNARE. 51 the masses of li ght and shade, or, in other words, the agreeable or majestic effect of the work in all its possible views, cannot be too much attended to. The taste of lines and harmonious flow of the parts or several mem- bers of the work, whether a group or a single figure, their variety and their combined unity, are the efficient causes of that light and shade which give ease and satisfaction to the eye of the spectator, and engage him, as it were, to FIQ. 23. — THE SOLDIER’S RETURN. (From the National Monument near Bingen, Germany.) See pages 50, 286, 302. enter into the contemplation of those still more essential beauties of a higher order, which result from the sublime conception of the form and character and the graceful or pathetic expression of the subject . . . high and low rilievo, perspectively sinking into a proper intaglio, is capable of producing the sublimest and most wonderful effects in sculpture.” The same is true as applied to architecture ; and here, as is always the case in this art, by way mainly of associa- 5 2 PAWN TING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. tion. Any one at all sensitive to aesthetic effects, will feel, almost at a first glance, the impression of strength con- veyed by the pillars of the Greek temples, as in Fig. 14, page 36, or by the pilasters of the Renaissance buildings, as in Fig. 196, page 349; or by the butt 1 esses of the Gothic cathedrals, as in Fig. 41, page 81 ; or by any arrange- FIQ. 24.— OLD SOUTH CHURCH, BOSTON. See pages 35, 54, 84, 331, 380. ments, perpendicular or vertical, that add to the possibili- ties and presence of shadows, as in Fig. 12, page 35, Fig. 13, page 36, or Fig. 15, page 37. He will feel, too, the impression of a certain amount of structural weakness conveyed by plain walls, such as appear in Fig. 173, page See pages 35, 54, 84, 323, 334, 380. 54 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. 319, Fig. 185, page 338, and in Fig. 190, page 343. A fav orable opportunity for observing the difference between these two effects happens to be afforded in Boston by two buildings visible from the same square, namely, Trinity Church, Fig. 25, page 53, and the old South Church, Fig. 24, page 52. The masonry of both may be equally strong, but in Trinity Church the heavy projections — especially the pillars over the front door that necessitate foundation-walls broad enough to support both them and the wall back of them, as well as the attendant shadows in other parts of the building — suggest that nothing short of an earthquake could cause its sides to tumble, while, apparently, a single conflagration might entirely prostrate those of the other church. See also what is said on page 331 - “ As the great poem and the great picture,” says Ruskin, in his “ Seven Lamps of Architecture,” “ gener- ally affect us most by the majesty of their masses of light and shade, and cannot take hold of us if they affect a con- tinuance of lyric sprightliness, but must be serious often and sometimes melancholy, else they do not express the truth, ... I do not believe that ever any building was truly great unless it had mighty masses, vigorous and deep, of shadow mingled with ifs surfaces.” But enough has been quoted to show that it is no mere whim of the present writer to attribute to the strength or weakness, firmness or indecision of outlines in connection with their accompanying shadows, a representation of the degrees of mental strength expended by the artist, or of material strength manifested by the factors of which his product is composed. CHAPTER V. GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES, CURVED, ANGULAR, AND BOTH COMBINED. Meaning and Effect of Gradation as Applied to Outline — Effects of Gradation in the Arts of Sound — Corresponding Effects in the Arts of Sight — Three Methods of Describing the Outlines of a Form — Each Method Repre- sentative of both Mental and Material Conditions — How Drawing by the Hand is Representative of Instructive, Reflective, and Emotive Mental Conditions — How the Actions of the Body are Representative of the Same — How Appearances in Nature are Similarly Representative to the Mind of the Spectator — Curvature-Angularity — Straight Lines Horizontality and Effects of Repose — Verticality and Effects of Eleva- tion arid Aspiration — Mixed Lines and Effects of Excitation — Illustra- tions from Landscape Gardening — From Painting and Sculpture — Quotations Confirming these Explanations as Applied to Painting — To Sculpture — Similar Outlines as Used in Architecture — Their Represen- tative Meanings : The Rounded Forms- — The Straight Lines and Angles — The Combinations of Both — Recapitulation. |\ | O W let us notice the differences in the effects of touch * ' or handling produced by what, on page 1 5, is termed gradation. This term is used in art to indicate the relative degrees of change through which, whether gradually or abruptly, a factor of one kind is made to pass into another of a different kind. Sometimes the principle is applied to the arrangements of suggestions introduced into a rhetorical climax ; sometimes to the arrangements of light and shade and color ; and sometimes to the arrangements of other features. Here, as was shown 55 56 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. to be appropriate on pages 281 to 287 of “ The Genesis of Art-Form,” the term indicates the relative degrees of change through which outlines moving in one direction are made to pass into those moving in other directions, and, all together, are thus made to in- close a space. The most gradual way of inclosing a space is, of course, through the use of a circle or curve. A way somewhat less gradual, is through a use of straight lines combined with very obtuse angles, as in an octangle. A still less gradual way is through a square or triangle ; and, of all triangles, the least gradual is one containing a very acute angle. As will be noticed, there is nothing in this kind of an angle that resembles a circle ; but the general effect of an octangle, or of any regular figure with many sides does resemble this. At the same time, the octagon’s actual features- — straight lines and angles — are the same, differently arranged, as those of the triangle. Once more, it is important to notice that a curve, if long enough, like that encircling the world, for instance, cannot be dis- tinguished from a straight line ; nor can the two sides of an angle, if sharp enough, be distinguished from parallel lines. These facts render it possible to say that between the extremes of longest curvature and sharpest angularity, as applied to the inclosure of spaces, there may be included not only all conceivable outlines formed of curves and angles, but also of straight lines when parallel. The term gradation as thus used to indicate the way in which outlines inclose shapes, is the same as is applied in Chapter VI. of “ Poetry as a Representative Art ” to a corresponding effect in the arts of sound. This corre- sponding effect (see page 16 of the present volume) is pro- duced by the blending of tones in elocutionary stress and GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHARES. 57 of syllables or notes in poetical or musical measures, measures with their accents contributing to the general impression produced by rhythm precisely as do measure- ments with their shadings to the general impression pro- duced by proportion. Simply because, as a rule, single syllables or notes cannot constitute measures, nor single lines, i. e., lines moving in a single direction, all that is meant by measurements, it is, in the last analysis, the method of gradation through which the syllables, notes, or lines pass into one another, which determines the general effect. In accordance with this statement, the impression conveyed by measures when combined, tends, as indicated on page 1 7, either toward a running or, as we may term it, a curved effect, as in initial measure termed by the Greeks Trochee, taken from the word Tpo^os, a wheel, e. g. : We the fairies blithe and antic, Of dimensions not gigantic ; Though the moonshine mostly keep us, Oft in orchards frisk and peep us. • — Fairies' Song : Thomas Randolph. ( Latin ). Trans, by Leigh Hunt. Or toward a pushing, puncturing, effect, as in terminal measure, termed by the Greeks iambic from iamo, to drive forth, shoot, assail, e. g. : Think not, thou eagle Lord of Rome, And master of the world, Though victory’s banner o’er thy dome In triumph now is furled, I would address thee as thy slave, But as the bold should greet the brave. — Caractacus : Bernard Barton. 58 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. Or toward a combination of both, as in the following, where there is still more of a running or swelling effect, and yet, as on the accented syllables, more also of a push- ing or puncturing effect : I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he, I galloped, Dirk galloped, we galloped all three. — How They Brought the Good Nezvs : Browning. Corresponding effects in measurements were said to cause lines to describe shapes, gradually, as in curves, ab- ruptly, as in angles, or both gradually and abruptly, as in combinations of the two. Now, in order to ascertain that of which each of these methods is representative, let us observe certain of the conditions determining or ac- companying the uses of each. While doing this, it will not be long before we are led to notice three facts, each applicable to conditions both within the mind, and in the surrounding world outside of it. The first fact is that, as a form is complete in the degree in which it is inclosed upon all sides, the most instinctive way — i. e., the way involving least thought — in which to meet the requirements of the form, is to draw outlines describing some sort of a curve, beginning and ending at the same point. Moreover, when we look at nature, we find many objects, like plants, rocks, and hills, the outlines of which can apparently be described in this same general way. The second fact is, that only after we have begun to reflect a little upon the possibilities of an appearance do we make its outlines, provided they are to inclose a space, describe many angles. That is to say, using angles thus, necessitates our stopping to think where they shall be. Moreover, an angular form, when completed, sel- dom resembles closely anything in nature; and it almost GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 59 never does this, except as a result of imitation. The third fact is, that still another way of drawing outlines, mainly determined by our feelings or emotions , may make them partly curved and partly straight, partly rounded, and partly angular, partly tangent and partly parallel ; and, of course, among their possibilities may be included an imi- tation of any of the appearances of nature, however varied. Such facts of themselves are enough to suggest that there is a reason why outlines of each of these three kinds should be representative of both mental and material con- ditions. But that this is so, can be brought out still more clearly. At the same time, too, it can be shown why, as stated on page 19, the difference in the gradations of out- lines represents mental energy rather than that physical phase of energy usually represented by the differences in strength or accentuation which have been already con- sidered. We shall find that, in a sense not true of the mere accentuation of outlines, their methods of passing one into another represent, on the one hand, effects which are due to conditions of thought in the mind of the artist, and, on the other hand, effects which appearances, having these outlines, exert upon the conditions of thought in the mind of the spectator. That the effects are due to conditions in the mind of the artist may be perceived by drawing at hap-hazard a large number of long lines describing shapes, and then examining them, and the ways in which they are related to one another. Upon doing this, we shall find, first, that, in the degree in which the lines have been dashed off instinctively , i. e ., with no reflection, the natural move- ment of the hand has caused most of them to describe curves; second, that in the degree in which they have been the results of reflection they show a decided ten- 60 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. dency toward straightness, necessitating, of course, the use of angles ; and, third, that in the degree in which they have been the results of a restful, in the sense of a pas- sive emotive state, the curves or straight lines are long, the angles few and sim- ilar, and the shapes comparatively regu- lar ; but in the de- gree in which they have been the re- sults of restlessness or an excited emo- tive state, both curves and angles are many and di- vers, and the whole shapes are compara- tively irregular. In fact, as a rule, we can recognize at once, upon glancing at shapes thus drawn, whether a man has made them without thought or with it ; or whether his emo- tions have been in a state of restfulness or of excitement. Now let us take a broader view of the subject, and con- sider, as related to representation, the action not merely of a man’s hand, but of his whole body. We shall find that, in the degree in which his expression is instinctive GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 6l in the sense of being spontaneous and unconscious, be- cause uninfluenced or unimpeded by conditions that come from without, his gait, postures, and gestures all tend to assume the forms of free, large, graceful curves. See Fig. 26, page 60; also Fig. 20, page 48 ; Fig. 34, page 7 1 5 and Fig. 83, page 144. But in the degree in which his expression is reflective , in the sense of being made respon- sive and calculating in order to meet con- ditions from without, especially in the degree in which these con- ditions check, impede, and embarrass him, and make him conscious of this fact, or self-con- scious, as we say, — in this degree we shall find that his bearing is stiff, constrained, and awk- ward, imparting to all his movements a ten- F(Q _ 27 .— proposition of marriage. dency to assume the d. chodowieck. forms of straight lines See pages 61, 138, 147, 160, 161, 169, 175. and angles. See the woman in Fig. 27, page 61 ; also the positions in Fig. 39, page 79. Both these extremes are emotive , as is all human expression (page 21); but sharp angles and short curves will give way to straighter lines and longer curves 62 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ^VZ> ARCHITECTURE. moral influence or enthusiastic in the degree in which outside conditions do not wholly overcome a man’s spontaneity, but cause him to make his instinctive promptings reflective, as in exerting the of confident assertion, Fig. 28, page 62 ; persuasion, Fig. 2, page 21, and Fig. 84, page 145. But angles will predominate in the degree in which he is conscious of interfer- ence, as in supposed op- position, whether this be mental, as in Fig. 29, page 63 ; and more de- cidedly so, as in Fig. 77 page 135 ; or material, as in Fig. 30, page 64 ; and Fig. 58, page 104; or both together, as in the two figures at the front of Fig. 39, page 79 ; or as in fighting. The lat- ter condition will double up his frame and throw his neck, elbows, knees, and hips into shapes „„ ir . r.r.i.r-r.'-nr that will make his form FIG. 28.— THE APOLLO BELVEDERE. See pages 62, 138, 147, 149, 1 5 1 , 224, 281. the best possible repre- sentation of what can be described by only the term angularity ; yet from this appearance in such cases, curves are never entirely absent. See Fig. 31, page 65 ; also Figs. 73 and 74, page 132. So much for the meaning of outlines, whether sketched by the hand or assumed by the body. Now let us notice GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHARES. 63 how, as manifested not in the human form but in the inani- mate appearances of nature surrounding it, similar outlines are fitted to represent, and so to awaken, corresponding conceptions in the mind of the spectator. The curve has been ascribed to the instinctive , or, as we may term it, the physically normal action of the human form. Is there any truth in the supposition that similar appearances ex- ternal to man may be ascribed to sources similar in charac- FIQ. 29.— AUTHOR AND CRITICS. H. STACY MARKS, R.A. See pages 62, 151, 152, 156, 172, 173, 177, 178, 270. ter? Why should there not be ? The eye itself is circular, and the field of vision which it views, at any one moment, always appears to be the same. So does the horizon and the zenith, and so, too, do most of the objects that they contain — the heaving mountain, the rising smoke or vapor^ the rolling wave, the gushing fountain, the rippling stream, even the bubbles of its water and the pebbles of its chan- FIG. 30.— LINES ILLUSTRATIVE OF ACTION. W. CRANE. GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 65 nel, and every tree, plant, and animal, whether at rest or in motion. For this reason, curves, wherever seen, neces- sarily suggest more or less of that which is normal, or, as applied to natural animate life, of that which has the buoyancy, freedom, and joyousness which we instinctively associate with the possession of this. See the forms at the right of Fig. 32, page 67. The straight line with its accompanying angles we have found to be produced by a man chiefly as a result of the reflective action of his mind. How is it with similar effects in the appearances surround- ing him ? Do not rectangles with their straight, parallel sides (devel- oped from angularity, page 56), as in buildings and in so many other ob- jects made by men, invariably suggest results of construction, and, there- fore, of reflection expended upon them? Nor are such suggestions confined to objects with reference to which a man’s interference with the normal action of nature is unmistak- able. By way of association, the Seepages 62, 145, 167, 171. horizontal hilltop, the sharply per- pendicular cliff, the pointed peak, cause us to think and often to say that they look precisely as if a man had been at work upon them, levelling or blasting. Few natural objects, indeed, have outlines absolutely straight or angular ; but always, in the degree in which they are so, the impression naturally produced by curves, which is that of a growth outward from normal vitality within, is lessened. We feel that life has in some way been literally blasted. As a rule, it is the great convulsions 5 66 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. of nature, whether produced by fire, frost, wind, or earthquake, that leave behind them, if their progress can be traced at all, such results of crystallizing, cracking, and rending, as are manifested in straight lines and angles. Notice these at the left of Fig. 32, page 67. No wonder, therefore, that wherever seen they are associated in our minds with the work of extraneous force acting upon the forms from the outside, as the volcano does when it rends the rocks and throws the lava through and over them, and as the tempest does, when it bends the trees and tears off their branches. Notice, again, Fig. 17, page 43. Now let us consider the possibilities of emotive effects between these two extremes of form (see page 1 1). When, notwithstanding curves or angles, the general appearance of a shape approximates that of straight, parallel lines, it must be then (see page 65) that the appearance is most suggestive of reflective influences. This being so, in the degree in which the lines are long and absolutely straight, they must suggest reflection or thought of the most un- changing as well as distinctive character, as in persistence , seriousness, or dignity. Now notice that these straight lines may tend to be either horizontal or vertical. Does it require any argument to show that, if horizontal, they are suggestive of persistence, seriousness, or dignity in re- pose, and, if vertical, of the same in activity? What is so firmly fixed in position as a long straight beam, lying flat on the ground ; and what is so hard to get or even to keep in position as the same placed vertically ? It is strictly in accordance with the principle of correspondence, therefore, that the former should represent restfulness, and the latter difficulty overcome by effort, and, if through human agency, by human effort, or by that in the soul which makes the effort possible. For this reason, there- FIQ. 32.— TISSINQTON SPIRES, ENGLAND. See pages 65, 66, 70, 72, 259, 399. 68 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND A RCHITECTURE. fore, as well as because, by pointing upward, it carries the thought upward (which is the ordinary way of explaining the effect), the vertical line may be said to represent aspi- ration and elevation of aim. Of course, too, because com- posed of lines very nearly vertical, sharp angles pointing upward, as in Gothic window-caps and spires, represent the same. Observe, too, how in this architectural style the parallelism of the vertical lines repeats and emphasizes the emotive effect due to their directions, and augments it by regularity. See page 74 and Chap. VI. Curves and angles, when their lines are greatly broken, suggest the changing and transient, and also, when crossed, the complex. Because complex, they are perplexing; and provided they are nevertheless disposed in such ways as to render the fact of some design indisputable, they are exciting, as far as lines can be so, to the imagination, con- stantly stimualting it, as they do, to solve the mystery of their mode of arrangement. Such being their effects, one would expect to find the natural forms characterized by them proving more exciting to the emotions than those already considered. And when we examine the appear- ances about us, is not this exactly what we do find? Is it not when complicated curves and angles outline natural trifles that they fascinate and make men imitate them in their curios? Is it not when curves, straight lines and angles join in natural forms of grander import, when the tree and bush are wreathed about the precipice, when the dome-like mountain and the rolling cloud lift above the sharp peak and cloven crag, and far below them lies the flat plain or lake, — is it not then, in connection with such combinations, that the most exciting appeal is made through the emotions to the imagination ? That the facts are as here suggested, will be evident to any one who will make a careful study of the subtle effects FIG. 33.— REPOSE IN LANDSCAPE AND FIGURE. W. CRANE. /O PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. upon the mind of different scenes in nature, and of the imitations of them in art. Indeed, a slight indication of what is meant may be observed in Fig. 32, page 67. In this place a good way, perhaps, of discovering the repre- sentative capabilities of these different appearances, is to recall the use that is made of them by the landscape gardener. Is it not a fact that, in case he desire to direct attention to the beauty of nature in itself, i. e., to the capabilities of nature with the least possible suggestion of the intervention of a human mind, — -that in this case his plans will develop into gradually rising mounds and cir- cuitous drives, winding among trees and shrubs planted in clusters but not in rows? On the contrary, if he desire to produce a distinctly different impression, causing thought to revert from nature to man, either to the artist who has arranged things as they are, or to the resident or visitor for whose convenience or guidance they have been so arranged, then will he not plan for distinctly different effects, as in the long avenue bordered with its rows of trees, or in the terrace, or the hedge, or the flower garden with straight and rectangular pathways ? Or, once more, if he desire to produce more emotional impressions by means of which the observer may be drawn more into sympathy with his designs and the ingenuity of them, will he not make more use of variety and contrast, combining the winding walks of the ramble with sharp angles, perpen- dicular rocks with rounded moss banks, or shooting cata- racts with still pools ? Is it strange that similar principles should apply to painting and sculpture? Notice, again, the effect of the gentle curves in Fig. 18, page 45, and at the right of Fig. 32, page 67. Notice, too, those in Fig. 33, page 69. How clearly indicative they are of an internal, spoil- See pages 61, 72, 136, 265, 272. 72 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. taneous, normal development of natural formation ! Observe, also, the allied instinctive human expression of the same in the buoyancy, freedom, and joyousness ex- pressed by the curves in Fig. 26, page 60, also in Fig. 34, page 7 1. Now recall the results of extraneous ab- FIQ. 35.— ADORATION OF THE MAGI. P. VERONESI. Seepages 73, 174, 263, 276. normal influences, first, as exerted by natural forces, as in Fig. 17, page 43, and at the left of Fig. 32, page 67; and, second, as exerted by the allied reflective agency of man, as in Fig. 30, page 64. Once more, look at the effects of repose as suggested, first, by the horizontality of the GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 73 arrangements of natural scenery in Fig. 18, page 45, and, second, with more reflective design, by the human figure in connection with scenery, as in Fig. 33, page 69. Con- trast with this the aspiration expressed by the verticality of the lines in Fig. 9, page 33 ; and, owing to the non- natural arrangement in a regular row, the more humanly thoughtful and reflective suggestion of the same in Fig. 44, page 85. Notice, too, the same impression as clearly conveyed by the whole form in Fig. 2, page 21, and more subtly conveyed by the extended limb of the angel in Fig. 22, page 50. Finally, observe, in connection with the many curves which impart a suggestion of instinctive freedom to the mode of expression, the same reflective and hence serious, dignified, aspiration suggested by the upward lines in Fig. 35, page 72. The united effects in it of curves and long upward lines, make it a fine il- lustration of that blending of the instinctive and reflective tendencies which, on page 1 1, was said to be the condition of emotive expression. Though differently explained, the effects of these forms have usually been recognized to be as thus stated. Charles Blanc, for instance, in his “ Grammar of Painting and En- graving,” translated by R. N. Doggett, says : “ In the choice of the great lines, a certain character should be dominant. . . . Straight or curved, horizontal or ver- tical, parallel or divergent, all the lines have a secret rela- tion to the sentiment.” John Ruskin, too, recalling several instances in which prominent features of certain of Turner’s pictures are arranged along a framework of curved lines, speaks of these as being the ones most fre- quently found in nature ; and in “ Winkleman’s Ancient Art,” he says that as they “ are more beautiful than straight lines, it is necessary ” — too strong a word to use except 74 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. when making an application to landscape — “ to a good composition that its continuities of object mass or color should be, if possible, in curves rather than in straight lines or angular ones.” “ In the spectacles of the world,” says Charles Blanc in the work just quoted, “as in the human figure, in painting, or in architecture, the straight lines correspond to a sentiment of austerity and force, and give to a composition in which they are repeated, a grave, imposing, rigid aspect.” This is the same, of course, as to say that these lines, together with the angles that neces- sarily accompany them, represent not the free, buoyant, joyous conceptions conveyed by curves, but constrained, grave, and serious conceptions. In connection with this, the same writer indicates the representative suggestions of the two general directions in which these lines, when emphasized by the repetitions of parallelism, may point. “ The horizontals,” he says, “which express in nature the calmness of the sea, the majesty of the far-off horizon, the vegetal tranquillity of the strong resisting trees, the quietude of the globe after the catastrophes that have up- heaved it, motiveless, eternal duration — the horizontals in painting express analogous sentiments, the same character of eternal repose, of peace, of duration. . . . Witness the ‘ Testament of Eudamidas ’ ; in it, Poussin has re- peated the horizontal lines. Lying upon his death-bed the citizen of Corinth forms the dominant line of the ar- rangement. The lance of the hero repeats this line, and, prostrate like him, seems condemned to the repose of his master, and to affirm a second time his death.” Again referring to the vertical lines, he says : “ Look now at ‘ The Life of Saint Bruno,’ by Lesueur. . . . The sol- emnity of the religious sentiment, which is an ascending aspiration, is expressed in it by the dominant repetition GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHARES. 75 and parallelism of the verticals ; and this parallelism, which would be only monotony if the painter had had other per- sonages to put upon the canvas, becomes an expressive repetition when it is necessary to render apparent the re- spect and uniformity of the monastic rule, the silence, meditation, renunciation of the cloister.” Once more, in language applying accurately to only what we have here termed mixed lines, consisting of both curves and angles FIG. 36 .— THE RAPE OF THE SABINES. N. POUSSIN. See pages 46, 75, 87. though often angularity alone is attributed to them, he says : “ If it be necessary to represent a terrible idea, — for instance that of the last judgment, . . . such sub- jects demand lines vehement, impetuous, and moving. Michael Angelo covers the wall of the Sistine chapel with contrasting and flamboyant lines. Poussin torments and twists his in the pictures of ‘ Pyrrhus Saved ’ and ‘ The Sabines ’ (Fig. 36, page 75), and the linear modes employed j6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. by these masters are examples of the law to be followed, that of bringing back with decision to their dominant character the whole of the great lines, that is to say, the first means of expression, arrangement.” “ In the ancient Greek sculptures,” says Long in his “Art, its Laws, and the Reasons for Them,” “ a correspondence between the disposition of the figure and the sentiment of the subject will always be found. . . . Minerva’s position being perpendicu- lar and her drapery descend- ing in long uninterrupted lines [Fig. 37, page 76, also Fig. 19, page 47], while a thousand amorous curves embrace the limbs of Flora and Venus [see Figs. 38, page 77 ; 20, page 48 ; and 149, page 224], the plain, the simple, the dignified, and the intellectual being the sentiment of the one ; the light, the gay, and the sensual the sentiment of the other. And if the senti- ment which animates them be of a very exciting and passionate character, the movements become more quick and the forms more angularized ” — a statement which, as will be made clear in a moment, includes, as this word usually does when thus used, more than the mere idea of angles. “ It is in obedience to this principle,” he goes FIQ. 37.— ATHENA OF THE CAPITOL. See pages 76, 224, 281. GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHARES. 77 on to say, “ that Raphael acted when, in his cartoon of ‘The Delivery of the Keys to St. Peter,’ he employed, as did the sculptor of Minerva, the influence of simple forms,” i. e., sim- ple as distinguished from mixed, “ to express and produce the senti- ment of the character introduced and the natural effects of that scene ; and the same too in the Ananias (see Fig. 39, page 79) among the figures distributing and receiving alms, whilst, in obedience to this rule, he has resorted to the adverse system of angular forms and abrupt contrasts,” i. e., to mixed lines, curved and straight, “ to por- tray distress and convulsion in the dying man, and astonishment and dismay in the figures that imme- diately surround him.” So, too, an application of the same general principles is made in these words of an unnamed writer quoted by Barry in the “ Lectures of the Royal Academicians ” : “ In the Laocoon [Fig. 21, page 49], the convex lines predominate and the forms are angular, as well where they indent or fall in as where they swell out, fig. cs.— venus de’ medici. by which means the agitation of the See P a S es 76 , I 38 , 142, 223, ■r . j >> 225, 281. expression is manifested. Simple imitation, even aside from any desire to repre- sent, will usually cause a close observer to regard 78 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. these principles when depicting natural scenery or human figures; but they are equally applicable when constructing buildings. The most ordinarily accepted classification made of the different styles of these is according to their bridging of openings or spaces by straight lines, curves, or angles, which three methods are supposed to indicate the differences between the architecture of the Greek horizontal entablature, of the Byzantine or Romanesque round arch, and of the Gothic pointed arch. 1 But notice that straight lines abound in all these forms, the horizontal ones in Greek architecture being no more prominent than the vertical ones in Gothic architecture. It is well to observe, too, that of all archi- tecture appealing to the emotions the latter does this in the most powerfully effective way, for the reason not often noticed that in it alone is it customary to blend all the possibilities of outline. Sometimes there are no prominent curves in Greek buildings, see Fig. 14, page 36. Sometimes, too, there are no sharp forms in Byzantine or the allied Romanesque buildings. See Fig. 40, page 80, also Fig. 15, page 37. But in Gothic buildings there is invariably a blending of both. Moreover, as if also to emphasize the existence of both, each form is developed to excess, the curves being made particularly round and the angles particularly sharp. See Fig. 41, page 8l,also Fig. 220, page 392. Now what is the architectural significance of a predomi- nance of each of these methods of bringing outlines to- gether, namely, through curves, through angles, or through both in combination ? Is this difficult to determine ? To begin with, what is the shape most instinctively produced by the creatures below man, when they indulge in con- 1 See note at bottom of page 378. FIG- 39.— THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. CARTOON BY RAPHAEL. So PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. struction ? What is the shape of ant-hills, birds’ nests, or beavers’ dams? What is the shape of that which a man constructs in the forest when he breaks off the limbs of the trees, and, binding them together, builds himself something in which to sleep ? Rounded, curved, is it not ? The huts represented in Chapter XX. of this book are all symmetrical, and so would be recognized at once as pro- ducts of man ; but which of them should we be most FIQ. 40.— OLD PICTURE OF ST. SOPHIA, CONSTANTINOPLE. See pages 78 82, 86, 380. likely to imagine to have been constructed by some more intelligent animal ? Would it not be those in Fig. 2 1 2 page 379. And which should we first recognize as the products of a man ? Would it not be those in Fig. 208, page 374, and Fig. 214, page 383, and this because of the use made in them of straight lines and angles ? The same principle holds good with reference to buildings of a more elaborate character; though it must not be overlooked that, in the degree in which any forms are artificially elaborated they come to 8i FIG. 41. — COLOGNE CATHEDRAL — FAQADE. See pages 35, 52, 78, 82, 84, 86, 323. 380, 405. 82 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. have complex and therefore (see page 1 1) stronger emotive effects. But, as applied to the predominating or germinal shapes in such buildings, is it not true that the impression conveyed by any rounded arch, as in a bridge for instance, is that the small stones available have been made to span the space under it in accordance with a natural law which needs only to be perceived by the builder in order to be instinctively fulfilled by him ? And if this be so, is it not logical to infer that all such forms can cause one to asso- ciate their appearance with a fulfilment of natural law? Do not their curved outlines make Figs. 40, 43, and even 41 look as if, according to natural law, they grew into shape in a sense not true of Fig. 42 ? Possibly, therefore, there is a reason why rounded doorways, as in Fig. 15, page 3 7, and bending domes, as in Fig. 12, page 35, should have seemed to so many in so many different lands appropriate to represent not only, as stated on page 38, a place in which crowds are expected to gather, but also a centre from which emanates the authority of law, either civil, as from a state capitol or courthouse, or spiritual, as from a cathedral. Again when as in Fig. 42 we find buildings showing no such desire to accommodate the methods of construction to the requirements of natural law, as is apparent in the round arch, but rather a determination, on the part of a man, to erect something designed by himself without any special regard for these requirements, as is the case wherever we see a predominance of straight lines and angles, then is it not true, as indicated on page 65, that the impression mainly conveyed is that of a form due to human reflection ? Moreover, if, in connection with this general impression, the predominating lines be horizontal, and the angles flat, so as to produce, so far as angles can, an effect of horizon- tality, is it not true that, combined with the seriousness 83 FIG. 42.— THE RUSSIAN CHURCH AT PARIS. See pages 82, 84. 86, 323. 84 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. and dignity suggested by straight lines, they resent FIG. 43.— INTERIOR OF BEVERLEY MINSTER, ENGLAND. See pages 32, 82, 84, 380, 388, 399, 405. repose 1 rep- No- tice the general effect of the horizontal enta- blatures, window-caps or string-courses in Fig. 14, page 36, Fig. J92,page345;Fig. 197, page35°,Fig. 198, page 351, and Fig. 203, page 365. If, on the con- trary, the predomina- ting lines be vertical, and the angles, by be- ing sharp, aid the effect of verticality, is it not true that, combined with the seriousness and dignity suggested by straight lines, they represent elevation of soul or aspiration ? See Figs. 24, page 52 ; 2 5> page 53 ; 4b page 81 ; 42, page 83 ; and 43 > page 84. Observe also what a close re- semblance there is be- tween the general ef- fect of the trees in Fig. 44, page 85, and of the columns and ceiling in Fig. 43. page 84. 85 . FIG. 44.— AVENUE OF PALMS AT RIO DE JANEIRO. See pages 32, 73 84, 399. 403. 86 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Once more, when we look at buildings in which the curves as well as straight lines are prominent, as in Fig. 43 > P a g e ^4 ; or in which curves, straight lines and angles, all three, are prominent, as in Fig. 41, page 81 (notice the long curve from base to spire in its general contour), can we not perceive a more aesthetic emotive effect than in a building in which, as in Fig. 42, page 83, the curves are greatly subordinated ? And in buildings in which either curves, angles, or straight lines are combined in excess of what are needed, as is often the case in both Greek and Gothic architecture, where columns, entablatures, or arches, are introduced and are all shaped alike evidently for the purpose of ornament alone, and to enhance, by way of correspondence, the appearance of artistic unity, then is it not true that the forms represent a special ap- peal to the msthetic emotions ? See Figs. 14, page 36 ; 15, page 37; 40, page 80; and 41 page 81. Does not Ruskin in the following, taken from his “ Lectures on Architecture and Painting,” refer to an effect which we feel to be ascrib- able to all such forms of architecture, but especially, per- haps for reason given on page 78, to the Gothic ? “ I do not speak,” he says, "‘of your scenery. I do not ask you how much you feel that it owes to the grey battlements that frown through the woods of Craig Millar, to the pointed turrets that flank the front of Holyrood, or to the massy keeps of your Crichtown and Boothwick and other border towns, but look merely through your poetry and romances ; take away out of your border ballads the word tower whenever it occurs, and the ideas con- nected with it, and what will become of the ballads? See how Sir Walter Scott cannot even get through a description of Highland scenery without helps from the idea: ‘ Each purple peak, each flinty spire.’ GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHARES. 8 7 That strange and thrilling interest with which such words strike you as are in any wise connected with Gothic archi- tecture, as for instance, vault, arch, spire, pinnacle, battlement, porch, and myriads of such others — words everlastingly poetical and powerful wherever they occur— is a most true and certain index that the things them- selves are delightful to you, and will ever continue to be so.” In this chapter, examining the two methods through which a line moving in one direction is made to pass into another direction, we have found that the continuity of the curve suggests the physically instinctive, natural, or normal, the result of unconstrained expression in man, or of unresisted growth in nature ; and that the straight line bent into an angle suggests the mentally reflective, arti- ficial, or non-normal, the result of enforced contrivance in man or of external force in nature ; while both methods mixed suggest an emotive influence exerted or ex- perienced. This influence seems greatest in the degree in which the mixture is greatest, and may indicate, ac- cording to the character of the forms represented, either physical excitation, as in Fig. 36, page 75 ; or fanciful, as in complicated ornamentation. In the degree in which the mixture is least, and the forms are most nearly simple, the emotive excitation seems least, inclining toward the instinctive and natural, if manifested chiefly in long unin- volved curves, and toward the reflective and rational, if chiefly in straight lines and angles (see page 66). Closely corresponding to these respective emotive effects, are those that will be noticed in the chapter following, though it must not be thought that either mixture or curvature is necessarily irregular, or that either simplicity or straightness with angles is necessarily the opposite. CHAPTER VI. REGULARITY IN OUTLINES: RADIATION, PARALLELISM, CIRCLES, AND OVALS. Regularity as Applied to Sizes and Shapes — Frame work of Lines on which Art-Products are Constructed — Plow this Accords with the Require- ments of Nature in General, as in Radiation or Central-Point — As in Setting — As in Parallelism — Also with the Requirements of Individual Objects in Nature — This Framework Accords with the Requirements of both Mental Conception and Material Appearance — Significance of Regularity and Irregularity in Representations of the Mind — Of Ex- ternal Natural Phenomena — Blending of Regularity and Irregularity in the Human Form andFace — As judged byan Ideal Framework — ItsVer- tical Lines — Its Horizontal Lines— Facial Regularity does not Involve Sameness — Slight Departures from it not Inconsistent with a Degree of Beauty — Great Departures Allowable for the Sake of Expression or Contrast — Necessity of Considering Differences and Deviations in Regu- larity Especially as Manifested in the Innate and Assumed Appearances of Men. r EHE significance of the gradations of curvature or angularity through which outlines are made to describe shapes, cannot be fully understood except in con- nection with the third way in which they have been said to be made representative, namely, regularity. This is a result, primarily, of like effects produced by measurements, just as in poetry and music it is a result of like effects produced by measures. As outlines limit both extent and shape, these like effects may be produced by resem- blances either in the one or in the other. For instance, if, in a door, a square panel alternate with a circular one, 88 REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 89 and the opposite sides of the square be the same distance apart as those of the circle, i. e., if the diameters of both figures have the same measurements, then men consider this arrangement an illustration of regularity, though the likeness is in the width of spaces not in the shapes occu- pying them ; or, if in a human face there be the same dis- tance or measurement between the hair of the forehead and the eyes, and between the eyes and the nostrils, and between the nostrils and the chin, men say that the features, so far as this fact can make them so, are regular, though there is likeness only in heights not in shapes. But the term is applied sometimes to shapes alone. When each part of a curve or angle, as in an arch, bears the same relations to the whole, that each corresponding part of another curve or angle bears to another whole, which nevertheless occupies less space ; or when one part of a curve or an angle is like another part of the same curve or angle, as is sometimes the case with the curve over the eyebrows ; or is related in the same way to some third fea- ture, as the eyebrows are to the nose, — in these cases, too, because the mere shapes are alike, there is said to be regularity. As manifested in the arts of sight, this characteristic is as important to the general effects of proportion as it is in the arts of sound to the general effects of rhythm. For this reason the art-forms of paintings and statues, as well as of buildings, are usually constructed on a framework of lines. These lines, first of all, divide up the whole space to be covered into equal parts. Afterwards, upon the lines or between them, are arranged the prominent shapes such as the branches, sides, or tops of the same or of different trees, the ridges or edges of the same or of dif. ferent hills or clouds, the banks or channels of the same 90 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , .4/VZ> ARCHITECTURE. or of different streams, and the limbs or other members of the same or of different men or animals. The effects of such lines are clearly traceable in Figs. 1 8, page 45, and 33, page 69 ; and they may be seen actually drawn in Figs. 46, page 96 ; 47, page 97 ; 48, page 9 7 ; and 49, page 98. The simplest and most convenient form for this kind of a framework consists, of course, of parallel lines that are horizontal or vertical ; but men often use, too, curves and angles. Curved outlines are most regular when they form a circle, and, whether they do this or not, they are usually described about lines radiating from a centre. See Figs. 46 page 96 ; and 48, page 97. Angular outlines are most regular when they form a square, but they often necessitate diagonal straight lines as in Fig. 49 page 98, and as would be the case in a framework prepared for the left lower picture in Fig. 45, page 93. Before going on, it will correspond with what has been done throughout this volume, to point out that this framework thus constructed for the purposes of art ac- cords with the physical conditions underlying all sight, and, therefore, with the suggestions if not requirements of nature. For reasons given on page 63, these suggestions must be manifested in nature mainly, though not exclusively, through the use of curves. Let us first consider here, therefore, a framework suitable for these. As shown in Chapters X. and XI. of “ The Genesis of Art-Form,” radi- ation, or, as this is there termed, central-point , which, ideally if not really, is essential to constructing shapes with cir- cular outlines, is merely a development — sometimes, as is the case with many effects in art, an excessive develop- ment — of the fact that in nature an object in the extreme distance is always related to a like object nearer us in REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 91 such a way that, if parallel lines were drawn between the two, and extended far enough into space, such lines would meet in the distance and form a point. For instance, to one looking down a long street, or the tracks of a railway, the lines formed by the sidewalks and foundations and roofs of the houses, if they be of equal height, or of the two or more tracks of the railway, all converge in the dis- tance, and, though not actually meeting, suggest that they would meet, could a man see far enough. The point where, if extended, they would meet, is what the painter calls the vanishing point, and if he wishes to be mathe- matically exact in determining the sizes of his figures as represented at a certain distance, he will do so by drawing converging lines from the top, bottom, and sides of a like figure in the foreground, and making these, where they cross the place in which the figure is to be represented, measure the height and breadth. This principle, as ap- plied to art, is the basis of the laws of linear perspective ; and is amply illustrated in the left upper corner of Fig, 168, page 297. When carried out in a painting they make all the objects represented appear to sustain the same re- lations to one another as in nature ; and they also make these objects sustain subordinate relations to one object of interest which, being in front of the vanishing point from which all the lines ideally radiate, necessarily sug- gests that everything is pointing toward it. Notice an artistic adaptation of this effect in the arms pointing to the central figures in Fig. 8, page 31. But besides having this central-point of radiation, and therefore of principal importance, all views in nature have outlines which form a setting for this centre, outlines often dim and vague because of their distance from the vanish- ing-point ; yet they at least make clear the place where 92 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , /t/VZ> ARCHITECTURE. the range of vision, as well as the lines of radiation, are brought to an end. It is interesting to notice, too, that the extreme limits of these outlines, as in those of the horizon and zenith, not only, but also in the contour of any field of vision that can be comprehended in a single glance of the eye, are necessarily circular. Once more, in addition to a vanishing point which is a centre of radiation, and outlines that give this a setting , every view of nature has a horizon line, and with this usually a large number of lines parallel to it, described, if in a sea view, by the caps of the waves ; if in a land view, by the bank-lines of rivers, by the tops of forests, by the ridges of hills, or by the snow-lines of mountains. All such views necessarily include, too, parallel upright directions taken by the trunks of trees and plants, not to speak of the necessary parallelism wherever stand human beings, or their buildings. See Figs. i8,page 45 ; and 33, page 69. Similar methods are exemplified also in the arrange- ments by which the features of particular forms in nature are related. Whether we study the veinings cf a leaf, or the branches of a tree, the adjustment of the nerves, veins, or muscles of any living creature, or of the hands, feet, and limbs of a man, we find in all a tendency toward radi- ation. Sometimes the limbs on each side of a tree diverge from a point in its trunk; sometimes, apparently, from a point on the opposite side of the tree from that on which they are situated. As illustrated in Fig. 48, page 160, of “ The Genesis of Art-Form,” there are any number of places where ideally the centres of radiation may be ; but that they are somewhere, the slightest exam- ination will usually reveal. To such an extent at least is this true, that no one can question the statement that the 93 REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. limbs of almost all plants and animals, each in a way peculiar to itself, have a tendency to radiate from the body to which they belong. So, too, there is a tendency to curvature of contour where these lines end, and, in connection with both radi- ation and curved contours, a tendency to parallelism. In some trees, branches that begin by radiating become parallel soon, and continue so to their ends. In others, as in pines, parallelism seems to take the place of radia- tion altogether; and al- though radiation has been said to be exemplified in the arrangements of the nerves and muscles in the bodies of men and animals, nevertheless the arms, legs, fingers, toes, claws, as well as the two limiting sides of these separate members, and of the body as a whole, fur- nish examples of parallelism. As a rule, too, the way in which all the features on either side of a common middle, whether in the trunk of an animate or inanimate object, balance one another, illustrates symmetry l No people, perhaps, apply the methods thus described more artisti- cally than the Japanese, though often represented as ignoring them. Notice proofs of this in all four composi- tions in Fig. 45, reduced from “ Fine Art Pictures,” a Tokyo publication, by Katsugaro Yenouge. FIG. 45.— JAPANESE COMPOSITIONS. See pages go, 93. 1 All these art-methods are explained in “ The Genesis of Art-Form.” 94 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, A N D A RCII I TECT URE. The facts thus stated will show us that, whether applied to one figure or to a collection of figures, the framework, ideally or really underlying effects of reg- ularity, represents, as do all the other factors of art, that which is required by the conditions not only of mental conception but also of material appearance. Now let us consider the representative characteristics of different de- grees of regularity. The best way of starting to do this, will be to recall, for a moment, the conclusion reached on page 60 with reference to the outlines supposed to have been drawn on paper at hap-hazard. To the assertion there made, that the less thought bestowed on them the more likely they are to describe curves, we may add here that the more likely they are also to separate spaces or to describe shapes, — whether by curves or angularly turned straight lines, — which bend or point in many different direc- tions, and in this sense are irregular. Of course, the con- verse, too, is true. The more thought bestowed on them, the more likely they are to manifest that sort of resem- blance between spaces or shapes which underlies effects of regularity. This is the same as to say that the in- stinctive tendency leads to irregularity, and the re- flective to the opposite. It follows, too (page 11) that the quality of the emotive tendency — as impelled without thought, or with it — represents itself (with special force here, see pages 22, 60, 96), whenever the other tendencies, as is usually the case, either blend or act alternately. If, with these inferences in mind, we examine, for a moment, the actual appearances about us, we shall have no difficulty in finding analogous conditions indicated in them. The impression that we most instinctively form of nature, so far as man has not touched it, is that of irreg- ularity. As a rule, this and nothing else is what moun- REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 95 tains, valleys, rocks, lakes, whether we consider their out- lines or arrangements, seem to us to illustrate. For this reason, in a thoroughly successful painting of nature, the contours of hills, dales, rivers, foliage, and the forms of animals and men are never arranged along the lines of a framework with a too inflexible regard for such charac- teristics as radiation, parallelism, or balance ; or, if they be, these methods are concealed so as not to be recogniz- able without study. Notice Figs. 1 8, page 45, and 33, page 69. Otherwise, the result would seem not even artistically natural but unnatural and artificial, regularity of outline being almost invariably an indication of the effects upon natural appearances of the reflective charac- teristics of man. This can be exemplified equally from landscape gardening and landscape painting. An artist, especially one of an early historic period, is almost as likely to arrange bushes and trees in symmetrical groups, if not rows, in the latter art as in the former, provided he can find or imagine a view-point from which this can be done ; and, when depicting living beings capable of being moved about, he is sure to arrange them thus. Even in most imitative paintings, he sometimes changes the out- lines of hills and valleys, or, if he cannot do this, he intro- duces regularity through the use of color. When it comes to architecture, where he is left free to design the whole appearance, regularity is always the main characteristic. But how is it about a combination of irregularity with regularity ? Do we ever find this, and, if so, what does it indicate ? For an answer, let us look at nature once more. There we shall notice that, though inanimate objects, like mountains, rocks, and lakes, mainly manifest irregularity, other objects, and always in the degree in which they approach animate existence, or are themselves higher 9 6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , A"Z> ARCHITECTURE. developments of it, manifest regularity also. The out- lines of plants, trees, leaves, flowers, fruits, tend to sym- metry. So still more do those of animals, and the most symmetrical of all forms which, at the same time, mani- fests great irregularity, is that of man. But his is exactly F IQ. 46. — FIGUKE Ci'/IDZD BY LINES. See pages go, 97, 98. the form that is fitted to make the strongest appeal to our combined instinctive and reflective, in other words, to our emotive nature. It seems necessary in this place, therefore, to say some- thing about the representative possibilities of the human form ; and of this, first, as determined by the blending in REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 97 FIG. 47— FRONT FACE DIVIDED BY LINES. See pages 90,97, 1 it of regularity and irregularity. This latter, as we know, when it exists by itself alone, with nothing to counteract it, is confusing and therefore disagree- able ; and the mind associates ugliness with it rather than beauty. How ugli- ness can be avoided, by introducing regularity in spite of irregularity, is a broad and complex question ; but enough can be said of it here to indi- cate the principle involved. Recalling that by regularity in a figure, is meant its capability of being divided by paral- lel, horizontal, or vertical lines into like 5, 101. space-measurements, or, else, by the out- lines of circles, ovals, squares, rectangles, or rhomboids, into like shape-measurements, let us examine Figs. 46, 47, 48, and 49, all of them produced by drawing lines through or about figures found in “ Putnam’s Hand- book of Drawing.” Notice, first, that the framework occupied by the form in Fig. 46, page 96, and by the faces in Figs. 47 and 48, page 97, and by the eye and ear in Fig. 49, page 98, is divided intolike parts by parallel lines either horizontal, vertical, or diagonal. It is the fact of their occupying like parts which, for reasons to be given in the essay on “ Proportion and Harmony in Painting, FIG. 48.— SIDE FACE DIVIDED BY LINES. See pages 90, 97, 98. gS PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Sculpture, and Architecture,” is the main element causing features to be, as men say, in proportion. Notice also that, as related to shape, the general arrangement of the features is made to conform to the directions of the straight lines, as manifested, first, in the same inclination given to the ear and nose in Fig. 48, page 9 7, a requirement which the Greeks, notwithstanding their keenness of observation, seem often to have disregarded ; and, second, in the gen- eral outlines of the hair on the forehead, and of the eye- brows, eyes, nostrils, and mouth, as in Fig. 47, page 97. Besides this, notice the radiating lines in Fig. 48, page 97 ; also, in Fig. 47, page 97, the impression of regularity and, so far as this can impart it, of beauty con- nected with the combination of the cir- cle and the oval in the general egg-like contour of the head and countenance. Finally, the circles drawn about the form — not wholly satisfactory — in Fig. 46, page 96, will reveal the presence of an- other phase of regularity, even to those FIG. 49.- EYE AND EAR. 1 J ’ See pages go 97. who, as applied in this particular case, do not understand exactly what it is. Very little thought, too, will cause us to recognize that these lines represent lines which we actually draw in imagination, and with which, thus drawn, we actually com- pare the features of the figure and face whenever we form an estimate of relative beauty or ugliness. When, for in- stance, a person is facing us, it is almost impossible not to suppose an imaginary vertical straight line drawn from the middle of his forehead to the middle of his chin, as in Fig. 47, page 97 ; and if we find this line passing through the middle of his nose, we obtain an impression of regu- REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 99 larity, which, so far as concerns it alone, is an aid to the agreeableness and consequent beauty of the effect ; but, in the degree in which the middle of the nose is out of this vertical line, not only irregularity but ugliness is sug- gested. Again, a similar tendency causes us to suppose other imaginary vertical straight lines, drawn, as in the same figure, at equal distances to either side of this central line, and from them we may gain an impression of relative regu- larity by noticing to what extent they pass through corresponding sides of the face. Besides this, we are prompted to suppose horizontal lines drawn, as indicated in the same figure, across the forehead, eyes, and mouth, and to form judgments from them too with reference to the degrees of regularity. It is important to notice, also, that we form these judg- ments in accordance with the principle of correspondence. When, as in these cases, opposite features of the counte- nance appear to be in exact balance, because they can be fitted into a frame- work that is exactly straight or rectan- gular, the external arrangement is satis- factory because it seems representative of something internal that is satisfac- tory ; in other words, because we asso- ciate these physical conditions with cor- related ones that are mental and moral. FIG. 50. MEPHISTOPHELES. See pages 100, 1 18 170, 176, 178. FIG. 51. CONTEMPT AND ANGER. See pages 100, iiS, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 189. Because the face is square, we judge that the character is square. 100 PAIMTUW, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. For instance, Mephistopheles on the stage is always painted with the arch of the eyebrows not in line with the horizontal, but beginning high up on the temples and running downward toward the bridge of the nose, see Fig. 50, page 99. This is the way, too, for reasons given in Chapter X., in which even a handsome man looks when contracting his brows under the influence of arro- gance, pride, contempt, hatred, and most of all, of malice, see Fig. 51, page 99. With a similar general effect of ir- regularity, a simpleton on the stage is painted with nostrils and lips the sides of which exaggerate the expression of the smile by running too far up at the sides, as in Fig. 52 ; and a scold with the sides of the same features exaggerating the expression of the sneer and frown by run- ning too far down. No- tice Fig. 51, page 99. It must not be supposed, however, that countenances, in order to meet the requirements of regularity, need to be similar. In its way, a dog’s face may be as regular as a man’s; and there is no reason why one human face should not be as regular as another, though both differ almost radically. Of course, this could not be the case, if by regularity were meant conformity to a certain Greek type, which, as must be confessed, is the generally accepted supposition. Regularity, however, need not mean this; but only a condition in which the general outlines sustain analogous relations to lines or spaces of like directions or measurements. And there may be many different forms of which this can be affirmed, all corre- REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. IOI sponding in principle though not in the method of apply- ing it. For instance, none of the spaces in Figs. 53 to 57, pages 101 to 103, are divided as in the Greek type, which was evidently intended to be represented by the one who originally drew Fig. 4 7, page 97. Nor are all the faces in these figures divided alike. Yet all are divided according to what, in the essay on “ Proportion and Harmony in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture,” will be shown to be the principles of proportion. For this reason, when, as is probable, nine tenths of all Americans tell us that they consider these faces, more beautiful than any con- forming to the Greek type, they may be justified. According to the laws of form, properly in- terpreted, such faces fulfil the principles of proportion. But, besides this, according to the laws of significance, as derived from our association with faces of the ordinary American type, from our deductions with ref- erence to the characteristics manifested by them, and from our sympathy with the persons possessing such characteristics, it is perfectly in accordance with aesthetic principles (see Chapter XIII. of “Art in Theory ”) to say that, while as beautiful in form as are the Greek faces, their beauty, to one of the race and country to which they belong, is enhanced on account of its significance. Nor, even when forms do not fulfil, as these presum- ably do, the germinal principles of proportion, must it be 102 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. supposed that they are necessarily ugly. As shown in Chapter XVI. of “The Genesis of Art-Form,” there is sometimes a departure from the regularity of uniformity by regu- lar degrees or gradations, which, of themselves, cause regularity in spite of difference. It is pos- sible that the same principle, un- consciously applied, may miti- gate the irregularity of effect in a human figure or countenance. A forehead, for instance, might be as much higher than the nose is long as this is than the length of the space between the nostrils and the chin ; and such an ar- rangement might produce some impression of regularity, though with it, of course, there would be conveyed a stronger impression of the relative prominence of the characteristics indicated by the high forehead. This statement suggests an im- portant principle of art which needs to be noted here. It is that, some- times, certain requirements of form have to be waived for the sake of significance. We all are acquainted with this fact as applied to paintings or statues containing two or more figures. We often see one of these made positively irregular and ugly, in order to offset, and thus enhance, the regularity and beauty of the others. This is done, FIG. 55.— FACIAL DIVISIONS. See page 101 . FIG. 54.— FACIAL DIVISIONS. See page ioi. REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 103 instance, in Raphael’s “St. Margaret" and “St. Michael," Fig. 58, p. 104. But the same principle is applicable not only to groups of faces or figures, but, in each of them, to groups of features. Irregularity in certain of these, if not greatly pronounced, though it may be altogether too decided to render possible any method of sup- posing them to be regular, may add at times not only to the interest, but even to the charm of the form in which it appears. Like the stronger shading of a line or color that enlarges the apparent condition of a factor for the purpose of em- phasizing it, or of taking emphasis from some other near factor, irregularly may thrust upon attention that which thus interprets the meaning of the whole, and renders it in the highest sense repre- sentative. The expression of mere in- dividuality alone necessitates having no two forms or faces in the world exactly alike. Yet thousands of them may be equally beautiful; and tens of thou- sands, though not equally beautiful, may be equally attractive ; while, to the student of humanity, none can fail to be interesting. If this be so, the subject that we have been considering cannot be satis- factorily ended without some discussion of the general representative meanings of the differences and deviations in regularity which are possible to the FIG. 56.— FACIAL DIVISIONS. See page 101. 104 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. human form, including also the meanings of the positions, gestures, and facial expressions which it may assume for FIG. 58.— ST. MICHAEL OVERCOMING SATAN. RAPHAEL. See pages 62, 103, 145, 168. special representative purposes. Inasmuch, too, as some features of this form are delineated in the vast majority of all paintings and statues, such a discussion here is REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 105 altogether appropriate, even though it may involve re- calling, for the purpose of an application to this particular question, much that was said in Chapter V. with refer- ence to the significance of outlines aside from their regu- larity. Moreover, as the human body furnishes that appearance in physical nature which is most nearly under control of the mind, and, therefore, most clearly represents the mind, it is that which can best interpret for us the way in which any physical appearance can do the same. These reasons, together with the subtle and complicated effects to be examined, will sufficiently justify the ex- tended discussion in the four following chapters. CHAPTER VII. REPRESENTATION THROUGH THE NATURAL SHAPES OF THE HUMAN BODY: GENERAL PRINCIPLES. Importance to Art of the Study of the Meaning of the Shapes and Postures of the Human Figure- — Sources of Information on this Subject — Rela- tion of the Subject to Physical Facts — Meaning of Roundness or Broad- ness, Sharpness orNarrowness, and Length — Indicative Respectively of the Vital, the Mental, and the Motive Temperaments — Correlation between these and the Tendencies of Outline already Considered — The Forms Necessitated by the Physiological Conditions Underlying the Three — The Vital and Breadth of Form — The Mental or Interpretive and Sharpness at the Extremities — Connection between the Vital and Mental as Indicated by Length — The Motive or Active and Length of Spine and Muscles — The Same Shapes as Interpreted According to the Observations of Phrenology — Of Physiognomy — The Round Face — The Sharp Face — The Long Face — Of Palmistry — Different Temperaments are Usually Blended in All Men — Mental Tendencies Corresponding to All the Temperaments Exist in Each — How they are Manifested by the Torso and Lower Limbs — By the Hands and Head — In Connection with Activity. S just indicated in the preceding chapter, the outlines which represent thoughts and emotions the most un- mistakably are those manifested through the forms and movements of human beings. These outlines are made representative, too, in many different ways, in each of which the slightest change may involve a change in mean- ing sufficient to make an otherwise successful human figure, as depicted in painting or sculpture, wholly unsuccessful. 106 REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. IO ~] Hence the importance of a thorough understanding of the subject. With reference to it, very fortunately, there has been, of late, no lack of study, not only by men approaching it from a general view-point like Darwin in his “ Expression of the Emotions in Men and Animals,” but by those who have made a more narrow specialty of physiology, physi- ognomy, phrenology, palmistry, and gesture. It cannot be claimed, of course, that the systems treating of any of these subjects have, in many cases, made exact sciences of them ; or that the reasons given for the facts observed are invariably tenable. At the same time, the conclusions reached have been the results of innumerable investiga- tions, carefully made by many a shrewd observer ; and men whose business it is to represent the human form, or to criticise representations of it, cannot afford to ignore this fact. Nothing, indeed, can be more inexcusable than the outlines of the faces, heads, hands, trunks, and limbs, with which many otherwise accurate artists imagine them- selves to be depicting a person of a certain temperament or tendency ; or the postures and gestures through which they suppose themselves to be causing him to give ex- pression to certain typical thoughts or feelings. It cannot be without profit, therefore, for us to attempt, with the aid of what can be learned from sources such as have been mentioned, and following no one authority slavishly, to consider the human form, and to find out and to state as concisely as practicable, the conditions that seem to be represented by the different aspects and attitudes which, in certain cases, it may assume. It will be logical for us to begin by noticing the relation to our subject of facts having to do merely with phy- sique. Moses True Brown, in his excellent work on “ The IOS PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Synthetic Philosophy of Expression,” quotes with com- ments of his own, the physiologist, Alexander, as saying that on the breadth of the cerebral organs depends their permanence, and on their length their intensity. Another whose ability to interpret the meaning of the human shape was in his day surpassed by none, Mr. 0 . S. Fowler, the phrenologist, tells us in his “ Self-In- structor,” that “ spherical forms are naturally self-pro- tecting. Roundness protects its possessor. So all round built animals are strong-constitutioned ” — in other words, “ breadth ,” as he terms it, “ indicates animality ” — a state- ment which, though it explains nothing, coincides with what we have already noticed on page 61, of the connec- tion in nature between the curve and the evidences of buoyancy and life. “ Excitability,” he says again, is indi- cated by sharpness ; and when he goes on to develop what he thus affirms, he shows that by “ excitability ” he means chiefly, if not exclusively, mental excitability. “ People of this class,” he says, are “ brilliant writers and speakers,” putting the adjective in italics. Besides this, too, he also makes sharpness characteristic of what he terms the “mental” temperament. “ Activity,” he continues, “is indicated by length. Developing what he means by activity, he affirms that those of this class are “ intellec- tual and moral,” and that “ their characters, unless per- verted, like their persons, ascend.” Of course, while giving due weight to the results of a man’s experience, there is no need of accepting, in the form of a general rule, an assertion like this, to which there are so many exceptions that it is no general rule. The intellectual, the moral, and the aspiring depend upon the quality of that which is behind the outward form. At the most, the form can only show the capability of the REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHARE. log man in giving expression to these. Indeed, it would be unjust to Fowler not to add that he himself provides for exceptions to his rules by saying that the “ primary forms and characters,” to which we have just referred, “ usually combine in different degrees, producing, of course, corresponding differences in talents and characteristics. Thus eloquence accompanies breadth com- bined with sharpness ; some poets are broad and sharp [Fig. 59], others long and sharp [Fig. 60], but all are sharp.” Following this prelimina- ry explanation, Fowler gives us the well-known and customary classifi- cation of temperaments into the vital, which would be manifested by what he means by roundness ; the mental , manifested by sharpness ; and the motive , by length. These terms have been in use for years, but their meanings are not always distinctly under- stood ; nor in what sense each can be said to be repre- sented by a different ten- dency of form. Let us, for a moment, then, consider these questions, as well as the way in which the three temperaments and the shapes manifesting them can be correlated to the three tendencies of shape riVj. DU. LUINUrtLLUW’ . See pages 109, 113, 115, 117, 119. 124. consldered 111 Chapters V. and VI. FIQ. 59.— GOLDSMITH. See pages icg, 113, 115, 117, 119, 124, 187. IIO PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. To begin with, notice that when, as in these chapters, we divide shapes into those composed, first, of curves, second, of angles with straight lines, and third, of all three combined, we are analyzing the methods through which an outline of one direction passes into one of another direction more accurately than when, in a vague way, we divide forms as wholes according to some general effect of roundness, sharpness, or length. Notice, too, that, while, strictly speaking, the same feature cannot be both round and sharp or round and long, it can be both sharp and long; that, in fact, it is usually the sharper the longer it is, — which of itself, suggests a justification for the con- nection between the two which was brought out on page 56. Notice, finally, that the only unmistakably separated conditions are roundness and sharpness, said by Fowler to represent, respectively, vitality and mentality. These two, therefore, let us consider first ; after that we can con- sider the connection between both and length. The condition to which the term vital is given, and which we are told is indicated by roundness or breadth, means simply a frame so constituted that its controlling element seems to have its source in the fact that there is plenty of space for the free exercise and development of the organs upon which vitality or a sound physique depends. These organs are primarily those of digestion and breathing, which are situated in the torso. But full, well-rounded arms, necks, or heads, for the reason that they naturally accompany such a frame, may also, in a partial degree, suggest the same condition. The condition to which the term mental is given, iden- tified by Fowler with excitability, and which is said to be indicated by sharpness, means a frame so constituted that its controlling element seems to have its source in its REPRESENTA TION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 1 I 1 ability to represent by form and action those more deli- cate and subtle shades of expression which render the dis- tinctive moods and movements of the mind intelligible. Excitability is said by some to be characteristic of men- tality, for the very good reason, probably, that the brain is the highest development of the nervous system, and the nervous system is the source of excitability. But, as is sometimes forgotten, the brain may also, as when absorbed in thought — and this too when the nerves are strongest, — express the fact by refraining from an appear- ance of excitement. It is only in the sense of possessing a possibility for distinctively mental nervous excitation, that it is proper to say that excitability and mentality are one. Even clothed in this language, the statement is not wholly satisfactory. The nervous system and mentality too are both of them really at the basis of all kinds of expression, whether of vitality, of activity, or of that which we are now considering. Even Fowler while he calls this latter “ mental, ” says, in a quotation already given, that it is those of the active or motive temperament who are “ moral and intellectual.” What distinguishes the temperament with which we are now dealing from the two others, is the fact that in it the form seems to be mainly shaped and controlled by forces having to do with the communication of thought, which it appears to be all the while interpreting. For this reason, it might possibly be termed the interpretive temperament. The organs of interpretation, that distinguish a man who has highly developed mentality from an animal that does not have it, are at the extremities of the body ; and it is a fact that just as roundness of the torso best represents a well de- veloped vital and physical nature, so a shape that, in a general way, may be termed sharp, best represents a psy- I 12 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. cliical nature. All animals have an abdomen and lungs ; o ’ and many seem to have little else. But in the degree in which they have intelligence or interpretive power, the organs manifesting this push out from the extremities. It is of this that we think, when we see the delicate ten- drils of the insects and the play of the ears and tails of dogs and horses. Some of the lower forms of life seem to have no heads, many have no feet, and, if a few have hands, none have either heads or feet or hands that are able to do what those of men can. The reason for this, too, is that the faces and hands of men — their eyebrows, noses, chins, when in repose, and the same features too, as well as their eyes, and mouths, and fingers, when in action, are much more sharply defined, or capable of assuming forms that are, than are the corresponding features in the animals. Individual men, too, differ in this regard; and, as a rule, the round, fat, and, for this reason, inflexible shape cannot represent thought in the same unmistakable way as the one that is sharp, thin, and flexible. Sharpness therefore indicates the degree of interpretive mentality. Observe now that, when a feature is sharp, it has also a certain degree of length. Observe, too, that, according to what was said on page 66, length of lines is represen- tative of persistence, seriousness, and dignity. But these are traits with which we associate both thoughtfulness and morality. What more natural then than that length, as said by Fowler (see page 108) should be taken to repre- sent the “ intellectual and moral.” But of these two the intellectual — which fact will recall what on page 61 was said of the effects of long straight lines — is connected with the mental. How is it with the moral? To find an answer to this, notice, first, that as the organs of the vital or physical nature are at the centres of the body, and REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. I I 3 those of the mental or interpretive are at its extremities, the degrees of the length of the organs intervening between the two, measure the degrees of the distance between them. This being so, does it not follow, according to the principles of correspondence, that of two men having equal interpretive mentality, the one whose extremities, which are the agents of this, are nearest the vital centres will suggest mentality as being more immediately under the influence of vital or physical instincts, than will the one whose extremities, on account of the length, to say nothing of the accompanying strength, of the interven- ing organs, are remote from these centres; and that, therefore, the latter man, other things being equal, will seem to have the most power to resist his purely physical tendencies, or to have, as we say, the most moral power? Does not this suggested inference partly explain why most of us associate the possession of more moral force with a long and sharp face and form like Longfellow’s in Fig. 60 page 109, than with a combination of round and sharp, as in Goldsmith, Fig. 59 page 109? Now consider again that when we speak of moral force, as thus produced, we refer to an effect attendant upon a particular method of blend- ing vitality with mentality, or that which is represented by degrees of roundness with that which is represented by degrees of sharpness. But whenever these are blended at all we have, as was shown on pages 1 1, 59, and 60, an emo- tive result. The moral as indicated by length, therefore, is merely an emotive result in which the mental appears stronger than the physical. Accordingly, though the terms moral and motive include only a part of what is elsewhere in this volume termed emotive, they include enough to justify a correlation of them to it. Indeed, as applied to action, as is mainly the case when considering 114 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. their effects in the human frame, they include about all of it ; for we must not forget that, in dealing with length, we are dealing with degrees of it — slight as well as great, — and, therefore, with the general topic of the degrees in which mentality exercises control over vitality. The greatest degree of this control is supposed to be indicated by length, because a long frame seems to allow the most unlimited scope for the exercise and develop- ment- — of course under the influence of mind — of the organs which are the sources of motion or action. These organs are primarily the nerves, the lungs, and the muscles. The nerves regulating conscious action are in the cerebro- spinal system (page 127). The spine is a feature differenti- ated from other features of the body by its length. A long spine is usually accompanied by long ribs, and the two to- gether give both depth and expanse of chest for the air that sustains activity. Such a spine is usually accompanied, too, by long limbs, with long muscles. The peculiar function of the latter is to pull ; and length best enables them to pull effectively. For all these reasons, length seems to indi- cate activity, a fact so often noticed that it needs no fur- ther illustration. It can be verified by recalling not only the forms of the most active men, but also of animals like the eel, greyhound, deer, giraffe, and tiger. But, now, a man so constituted as to possess great possibilities for activity, will be apt to manifest possibilities for self- control and persistence in whatever his inward nature prompts him to undertake. Self-control gives dignity of bearing; and tall men usually possess this. In connection with persistence, self-control also gives control of others and an ability to survive and overcome opposition. Hence the qualities assigned by Fowler, as quoted on page 108, to the motive temperament characterized by length. REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. I I 5 These suggestions derived from physiology are con- firmed by those derived from phrenology and physiog- nomy. Fig. 61 contains little to which the most scientific physiological psychologist could object. By comparing it with the head of the prize- fighter, Yankee Sullivan, in Fig. 62, we can recognize in what sense both figures confirm the general principle that the round or broad face or head — the head disproportionately broad at the ears — indicates strong vital and physical tendencies. Comparing Fig. 61 again with Figs. 59, page 109, and 60, page 109, we can recognize in what sense the sharp face with the pointed nose and lips, especially when combined, as it usually is, with prominent and sharp, in the sense of irregular, organs in the forehead, and wrinkles about the eyes, indicates the essentially mental and interpretive organization. Once again Fig. 61 will suggest why the long face and head, made long mainly by rising above the ears and mouth, indicate strong motive and moral powers as mani- fested by exercising mental control over physical conditions. A practical illustra- tion of the fact may be noticed in the face riu . D ^. of Napoleon, Fig. 63, page 116, and also, Yankee sullivan. with somewhat shorter and sharper effects, See pages 115, 119, indicating a greater tendency to interpre- tive mentality, in the face of the theological leader, Albert Barnes, Fig. 64, page 117. FIG. 61. PHRENOLOGICALLY DIVIDED HEAD. See pages 115, 124, 167. Il6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , A ND ARCHITECTURE. The references already made to the eyes and nose show that the testimony of physiognomy must be added to that of phrenology in order to bring out here all that is neces- sary. According to physiognomists, the round, broad face most nearly resembles that of most of the less intelli- gent animals, like the toad and reptile. It is usually ac- companied by the largest jaws and mouth, through which food enters the abdomen, in order to sustain the vital na- ture. It must not be over- looked, however, that even the mouth is a part of the head, for which reason, while it gives a vital emphasis, the quality to which it gives this emphasis may be mental. In- deed, it is through the mouth that the inaudible processes of thought obtain material- ization by being converted into language. Thus under- standing what is meant by vitality of emphasis as im- parted by this part of the face, notice how the follow- ing quotations, though not written for any such purpose, confirm the general principles that have been unfolded. Very large lips, says Mantegazza, in his “ Physiognomy and Expression,” as epitomized in “ Werner’s Magazine” for January and February, 1895, are “ almost always com- bined with great sensuality ” ; and again : “ If the eye is the most expressive part of the face, the mouth is the most sympathetic. The desires of love and the ardors of voluptuousness converge about it as their natural centre. FIG. 63.— NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. See pages ns, 118, uq, 120, 124, 169, 177, 179. REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. I I 7 The eve is the mimetic centre of thought ; the , O mouth is the expressive centre of feeling and sensuality. The woman whose eyes inspire us with love, makes us enthusiastic, exalts us, throws us into an intel- lectual ecstasy ; but she whose mouth fascinates us, clasps us in her arms. The eye is the azure heaven to which no one may attain ; the mouth is the earth with its perfumes, its warmth, and the deep de- lights of its fruits.” The same writer quotes from Herder the statement that “ the upper lip reveals our inclinations, appe- tites, affectionate distress ; pride and anger make it curl ; craft and cunning make it thin ; good- ness bends it ; dissoluteness weakens and debases it ; love and the passions become incar- nate in it with an ineffable charm.” Lavater in his “ Physi- ognomy,” divides mouths thus: (1) The mouths in which the upper lip projects a little (notice that this upper lip is nearest the middle of the face where mental and vital expressions are most nearly combined, and all expression is therefore most nearly emotive) 1 ; this is the distinctive mark of goodness, we may therefore call these the senti- mental mouths (see Figs. 59 and 60, page 109). (2) The mouths in which both lips project equally (notice that this effect approaches that of a perpendicular straight line (see page 66, also Fig. 64); they are to be found in honest, sincere men, and may be called the loyal mouths. (3) The mouths in which the lower lip projects beyond the upper one. This is nearest the part of the face ex- 1 See pages 11 and 121. I I 8 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. pressive of the physical nature (Figs. 50 and 51, page 99). These “ may be called irritable mouths.” Mantegazza’s criticism here brings out more clearly the correspondence between this last condition and the fact that the lower lip is nearest the part of the face expressing the physical or vital characteristics. He says: “The extreme pro- minence of the upper lip often goes in company with scrupulousness ; while, on the contrary, a marked protu- berance of the lower lip denotes great firmness of charac- ter or obstinacy.” He also says, with reference to the chin : “ It seems to be proved that, all things being equal, a strong projection of the chin [Figs. 63 and 64, pages 1 16, 11 7] has the same significance as in the lower lip noted (five lines) above. It is the ethnical characteristic of the English people, who are a strong-willed people.” Then he quotes Lavater again as follows : “ Long experience proves to me that a prominent chin always indicates something positive, while a retreating chin is always negative in its significance.” He also quotes from Tomassee’s “Moral Thoughts ” to the effect that “ a small chin is a sign of an affectionate nature.” This is the same as to say that it is a sign of absence of wilfulness, which absence is essential for a yielding, sympathetic character. “ A long, full chin,” he goes on to say, “ is a sign of coldness ; a long, receding one, of perspicacity and firmness ” (notice in both these cases the characteristic, peculiar to the motive tempera- ment, of length ) ; “ and a dimple in the chin (akin to the vital or roundness), of more grace of body than of soul.” Now let us turn to the sharp face. This is represented by physiognomists as most nearly resembling that of most of the more intelligent animals, like the dog, horse, and bird. It is usually accompanied by the keenest-looking REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. I ig eyes, and these are centres of nerve-force, the “ windows of the soul,” far better adapted for drawing inferences into the mind than food or air into the body. Some of the quo- tations already made have included references to the indi- cations given by the forehead and eyes. But besides what has been said, notice how perfectly Lavater’s interpreta- tions of the meaning of the eyebrows conform to the representations of the general effects of the curve, the straight line, and combinations of both as explained on pages 58 to 77. “ The eyebrows alone,” he says, “ often ex- press the whole character of a man. Witness the por- traits of Tasso, Leon Battista, Alberti, Boileau, Turenne, La Fevre, Apelles, Oxenstiern, Clarke, Newton, etc. . . . Eyebrows gently arched accord with the modesty and simplicity of a young girl [see Florence Nightingale, Fig. 104, page 172]. Placed horizontally and in a straight line [see page 66], they indicate a vigorous and virile character . . . [see page 61 ; also Fig. 63, page 116]. When one half is horizontal and the other half is curved, a strong intellect will be found united with ingenuousness and goodness [see Figs. 59 and 60, page 109]. I never saw a profound thinker, or a firm and judicious man, with thin eyebrows placed very high and dividing the forehead into two equal parts. . . . Thin eyebrows are an in- fallible sign of apathy and indolence. . . . The more closely they approach the eyes, the more serious, pro- found, and solid is the character, which loses in force, firmness, and intrepidity in proportion as the eyebrows mount” (see Fig. 62, page 115). With reference to the forehead, again, Lavater says in his “ Physiognomy ” : “ Contours arched and without angles indicate sweetness and flexibility of character ” (see Fig. 59, page 109 ; also page 61). “ It becomes firm and inflexible in pro- 120 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. portion as the contours of the forehead become straight ” (see Fig. 63, page 116). “ In women,” says Mantegazza, “at least among superior races, the superciliary arches are slightly marked or wholly wanting ; the forehead is narrow with very marked bumps [ interpretive, see page 112], characteristics also to be found in the skull of a child. Another very usual feature of the feminine skull is that it rises vertically, then bends abruptly toward the crown, making a very sharp angle. In the masculine head, on the contrary, there is no break between the curve of the forehead and the curve from forehead to occiput. The child’s head is to be particularly dis- tinguished by the great de- velopment of its bumps.” Once more, let us look at the central part of the face between the eye and the mouth, where we find the nose, from which, as is evident, we are most likely fingers to draw inferences with reter- See pages 121-123. ence to length of countenance representative of the motive nature. Here, as will be noticed, are the nostrils fur- nishing the lungs with air, which, as pointed out on page 1 14, have so much to do with the motive possibilities. But, most important of all, here is the region of what we may call activity of countenance, and the active and the motive, as the terms are used, are synonymous. Notice, too, that, in strict accordance with what was said on page 1 1, this region includes both that which is in the neighborhood of the lips, mainly expressive of the results REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 12 1 of physical temperament or will-power; and also that which is in the neighborhood of the eyes, mainly expres- sive of the results of intellectual temperament or thought- power ; while just where both may be supposed to be equally influential, is represented, in the movement of the nostrils, the distinctively emotional bias, as in manifesta- tions of taste or distaste, pleasure or displeasure (see Figs. 124, page 183, and 127, page 185). Palmistry tells a similar tale. There are hands which, as wholes, may be said to be round, sharp, or long ; and each of these may, in certain of their parts, exhibit characteristics belong- ing to the others. It may be said, in general, that the round or broad hand, the hand with a fat palm, as well as fat, well- rounded thumb and fingers, shows physical and vital tenden- cies in excess (see Fig. 65, page FIQ - 66 ~ sharp hand with edged . , , AND KNOTTED FINGERS. 120). 1 he sharp, rather than c ' bee pages 121-123. round hand, the hand broad at the base, but assuming a wedge shape when the fingers are brought together, which themselves too are not rounded but have edged sides, knotted joints, and some- what flattened ends, belongs to the nervous man, the man of brilliant mentality, quick to perceive, interpret, and ren- der intelligible the general features of that which is pre- sented (see Fig. 66). The long hand, including often too the spatulated effect, as in Fig. 67, where the whole finger looks like an extended rectangle shaped as if to make the finger’s sides seem as long as possible, belongs to the 122 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. man given to details, the man persistent in dealing with small minutiae, either of thoughts or of things, never tired of picking them out and polishing and putting them into their proper places, the man who in this sense shows great motive power, activity, and persistency. Of course few actual forms to which the deductions of these so-called sciences apply belong to any one type ex- clusively. As intimated on page 109, round and sharp character- istics, as also sharp and long ones, are more frequently than not found together. The question of the predominance, therefore, of a vital, mental, or motive temperament, is determined less by the absolute presence or absence of that which causes it than by the relative in- fluence which this exerts. Another fact closely connected with this is that all the parts of the human form, to the predominating influence of which each tempera- ment is ascribable, exist in all men. Therefore in all men there is a vital, mental, or motive ten- dency, with a possibility of giving an interpretive bias in each direction. In other words, because a man has, in general, a vital temperament, this does not interfere with his tempering for special purposes any of his actions with a special mental, or motive emphasis. It will be recognized too that just as temperament is in its essence physical or vital, interpretive emphasis is mental; and that the form of this emphasis, so far as it can be im- FIQ. 67.— LONG HAND AND SPATULATED FINGERS. See pages 121-123. REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 1 23 parted aside from the actions prompted by the motive nature, which actions will be considered in a following chapter, is a result of the prominence, natural or assumed, of certain parts of the body. With reference to the representative effects of these parts, it involves little more than a recapitulation of what has been said already, to add that we naturally judge of vitality, pure and simple, from the torso ; of mentality from the extremities, especially the hands and head ; and of activity from the legs and arms. Taking the torso alone, we judge of its mentality from the interpretive movements of the shoulders ; and of its relation to activity, plainly emotive in this case, from the breast. Taking the legs and arms by themselves, we judge of their relation to vitality from the hips and shoulders ; of their relation to mentality from the interpretive move- ments sometimes made by the feet as well as hands, and of their mere activity, emotive too, as is proved by the awkwardness occasioned by the presence of anything to embarrass or restrain, from the knees and elbows. We must bear in mind, however, that, because the legs run up to the abdomen, there is always a peculiarly vital (and physical) suggestion in connection with even their most mental and emotional phases of expression ; and that, be- cause the arms run up to the shoulders and head, there is a peculiarly emotive and mental tendency connected with even their most vital and physical phases of expression. Taking the hands by themselves (Figs. 65, 66, and 67, pages 1 20 to 122), we judge of their relations to vitality from the lower palm ; of their mere mentality from the fingers, as will be shown on page 155, when we come to speak of the finger gesture, and of their relation to activity from the thumb and upper palm, which latter, in order to indicate 124 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. inclination for or against a person or conception, is always turned, as will be shown, so as to welcome or to repel him. Each of the three divisions, too, of the thumb and fingers seems to be correspondingly related, the length of that nearest the palm indicating, according to palmistry, the relative importance given by the mind to material con- siderations, of that nearest the end to ideal considerations, and of that between the two to the practical results of both combined. Taking the head by itself (see Fig. 61, page 1 15), and not forgetting that all its manifestations are primarily mental, we judge of its relation to vitality by the back, especially at the lower parts near the neck, and as far up as above the ears (Fig. 62, page 1 15) ; of men- tality by the front, especially at the higher parts about the eyes and forehead (Figs. 59 and 60, page 109) ; and of activity or moral possibilities of control by the middle, especially at the top above the ears and at the crown, and also by the nose (Figs. 63, page 1 16, and 64, page 1 17). If we look at the face, we judge of vital or physical will- force by the lower jaw (Fig. 62, page 1 16) ; of mentality by the forehead and eyes (Figs. 59, 60, 63, and 64); and of activity by the middle again, the region between the eyes and mouth, including both. A large nose, for instance, indicating reflective or calculating, sometimes selfish, activity (Fig. 63, page I 16) ; and a large lip, indicat- ing instinctive, non-calculating, often unselfish, activity (see Fig. 60, page 109). It is evident, however, that all that has been said in this chapter can make the body representative to a complete extent, in so far only as to the possibilities of physical temperament as manifested in the form, or of interpretive significance as manifested in arrangements of particular parts of the same, are added the influences of motive activ- ity. These will be considered in the chapters following. CHAPTER VIII. REPRESENTATION THROUGH THE POSTURES OF THE HUMAN BODY : GENERAL PRINCIPLES. Three Divisions of the Subject, namely, the Sources, Directions, and Forms of the Movements — The Vital or Physical Sources of Movements Show that the Vital Tendency Leads to Instinctive, Unconscious, Unpremedi- tated Expression — The Mental Tendency to Reflective, Conscious, and Premeditated Expression — The Motive, Emotive, or Moral Tendency to a Combination of the Two Forms of Expression — The Mental or Interpretive Directions of the Movements Show that Vital Expressions Move away from the Body — Mental Expressions Move toward it — Motive Expressions are in Combinations of the Other Two, as when Alternating or Oblique — Delsarte’s Theories — The Active Effects of the Movements are, in the Case of Vital Expression, Free, Graceful, and Round — Of Mental Expression, Constrained, Awkward, Straight — Of Motive Expression in Action, Covering Much Space, hence Long — If Very Emotive, Varied and Angular — If Moral, Tense and Rigid — How the Actor’s and Orator’s Movements Combine Curvature and Straight- ness, Grace and Strength. E have found in the human form three general physical temperaments; and we have found also that these may be made representative of psychical tendencies. Moreover, we have found that, as the organs emphasized in each temperament are possessed by all men, so the ten- dencies represented by each are in all men, and, in certain cases, will manifest their presence. But so far we have not considered the possibilities of their doing so, except aside from any reference to action. Now we are to con- 125 126 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , A ND ARCHITECTURE. sider them in connection with this. Our subject naturally divides itself into three heads : the first suggested by the physical sources of the movements ; the second, by their directions as influenced by the mental aims of expression ; and the third, by their forms, as manifesting the mode of activity resulting from the combined influences of their sources and their aims. Let us consider, first, what is suggested by their physi- cal sources. The organs of the vital nature were said to be primarily those which control the accumulation and distribution of nutriment. The operations of these organs are performed as well in the body of an animal as of a man. Moreover, they are carried on entirely by the sym- pathetic nervous system, over which the mind exercises no conscious control. In the sense of being both physical and unconscious, they are also instinctive. But besides these movements having to do with the peculiar functions of the torso, other apparently unconscious movements are made by the body, and among them are many which, as a rule, have to do solely with the expression of thought. Others, too, when made unconsciously, are found to be dependent mainly upon the temperament that one has in- herited or the health that he happens to have acquired — in other words, upon the state of his vitality. To such an extent is this so, that men have come to associate all in- stinctive, unreflective, and thoughtless, in the sense of being unconscious and unpremeditated, movement, with that which represents the condition or tendency of the vital nature. Exactly the opposite is true with reference to that which represents the mental or interpretive nature. The organs of this are in the head or hand, and are fully de- veloped only in man. Their movements are carried on by REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. 12J the cerebro-spinal nerves, which attain their highest per- fection and are at their best when consciously controlled by his mind. It exercises this control according to what Herbert Spencer, in his “ First Principles,” terms reflex action, in which, as manifested in the lower orders of being, he tells us that “ we see the incipient differentiation of the psychical from the physical life.” All this implies that the distinctive characteristic of psychical or mental action consists in its being conscious and reflective ; and though the head and hand are its chief instruments of expression, we naturally associate with it all contemplative and pre- meditated movements wherever made. The motive nature has been said to be determined by the degrees of activity, and its chief organs have been said to be in the upper chest and the limbs. Activity, how- ever, is not peculiar to the motive temperament. Without action of some kind neither the vital nor the mental could find expression. Moreover, all actions of the body of any kind are carried on either in the instinctive way, having its source in the sympathetic nervous system, or in the reflective, having its source in the cerebro-spinal. We must infer, therefore, that the expressions of the mo- tive nature involve a combination of the two kinds already considered. If with this deduction in mind, we think, for a moment, of the movements of the upper chest, the chief seat of this nature, we shall recall that the lungs may be inflated either vitally, i. e. instinctively and unconsciously, or mentally, i. e., reflectively and consciously. And the same is true, though in a less marked degree, of movements in any part of the body. It was shown on page 1 1, that the condition in which the instinctive and reflective tenden- cies unite is the one that best represents the emotive ten- dency. As a fact, do we not always associate the heaving 128 PAIN TING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. of the chest, where, as has just been shown, they most unmistakably do unite, with a distinctive expression of emotion ? It was also said in the same place that the term emotive, as there used, was not meant to designate merely the physical and vital feelings, but a combination of them with mentality, such as causes the result to be representa- tive of soul. This statement, too, conforms with every- thing that can be said of this motive temperament. Its chief source is the upper chest, to which are attached the arms. Here are the lungs which furnish the purest suste- nance of life to the heart, which is the spring of all activ- ity ; and upon the right exercise of activity depends the condition of the moral nature. This temperament is there- fore called not only the motive and higher emotive, but also the moral. See again page 1 12. Having considered now the significance of these movements, as determined by their physical sources, let us con- sider that of their directions as influenced by the mental aims of expression. All that can be said here, of course, must be founded upon observation, and a very little observation, when aided, as fortunately it can be by the system of Delsarte, especially as developed by his many followers in our own country, will convince us that expression, in the degree on which it is purely vital, leads to movements outward and upward from the body, life always having a tendency to unfold from the FIG. 68.— DROWNING MAN. See page 129. REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. 129 internal to the external. When a man, as in drowning, loses vitality, his thumb and fingers bend toward the palm, and his hands, arms, legs, and head toward his trunk (see Fig. 68, page 128). But where his body is full of life, there is an instinctive and unconscious overflow of activity for which all the agencies of expression seem to be chiefly engaged in furnishing an outlet through move- ments chiefly upward and outward. A child jumping and gesturing along the street, with no one near to embarrass him or make him think of his actions, will sufficiently illustrate this statement (see again Fig. 26, page 60). Purely mental expression, on the con- trary, tends to movements in the same directions as the non-vital ; but they differ in that they are made more con- sciously and emphatically. When one is absorbed in reflection, or is contem- plating an object with a view to study- ing it, he draws his head and hands together, his form may bend at the waist, and very likely he sits down. If then it be an exertion of will that he is contemplating, his hand, in accordance with the principle unfolded on pages 1 18 and 142, will move toward the chin as in Fig. 69; if of emotion, it will move toward the nose, as in the bending figure to the left in “The Woman Taken in Adultery,” Fig. 80, page 139 ; and if it be of thought, his hand will seek his forehead, as in Fig. 70, page 13 1. Notice also what is said on page 1 56. Again, it follows from what has been said already, that the motive or distinctively emotive form of expression is FIQ. 69. — REFLECTION. See pages 129, 142, 156, 162. I30 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , A N D ARCHITECTURE. a combination of the other two. In the degree in which the instinctive or unconscious tendency of this combina- tion is in excess, there are usually upward (Fig.' 26, page 60), and then, to prepare for more of the same kind, alter- nating downward movements or inward (Fig. 99, page 163), and alternating outward movements (Fig. 78, page 136); or sideward, and alternating movements in an opposite direc- tion, like simple twisting or swaying of limbs or body (Fig. 85, page 146). But in the degree in which the reflec- tive or conscious tendency is in excess, there is a process of opposing counteraction that impedes excess of move- ment, checks mere alternation, and causes a blending of the two methods in one. The latter condition leads to oblique movements forward or backward (Figs. 73 and 74, page 132). These, if forcibly made, representing in- stinctive lack of control and also, at the same time, reflec- tive control ; in other words, both excitement and purpose, with a predominence of the latter, have a peculiar and powerful emotive effect of their own, which effect, uniting, as it does, all that is most animal with all that is most calculating, is distinctly suggestive of threatening hostility. The oblique movement forward is the most indicative of the threat (Fig. 73, page 132); and that backward, the most of mere hostility (Fig. 74, page 132) ; but either may jaresage equally unpleasant results. For this way of analyzing the different kinds of move- ment, as well as of associating certain tendencies of expres- sion with certain parts of the body, which will be consid- ered in the next paragraph, the world seems to be indebted primarily to Delsarte. His followers term the three kinds of movement just considered sometimes the vital, the mental, and the moral ; sometimes the sensitive, the re- flective, and the affective ; sometimes, referring to their FIG. 70.— STERN’S MARIA, BY WRIGHT OF DERBY. Seepages 129, 142, 156, 168. 132 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. directions, the eccentric, the concentric, and the normal ; and sometimes they use other names ; but the move- ^ ments, as applied to human expression, would never have been systemized ex- cept for him. In this volume they are not always inter- preted as in his system ; nor are they developed into his nine other movements. It has been thought more safe for theoretical purposes, as F | Q . 72 — side closinq^sture. wel1 as sufficient for prac- CL0SINQ gesture. Seepages 145, 152, tical purposes, to ascribe See pages 140, 156, 156, i6j. them, more fully than he did, and confine them, to the antagonisms which exist between the tendencies of the body and of the mind. Here, too, the move- ments are correlated, as in the Delsarte system they are not, to methods employed in the other arts. Indeed, while giving all due credit to the great French teacher, it is not necessary to ascribe to him every suggestion connected with this subject. Di- T ,o T , 7 visions into threes are See pages 62, 130 143, bee pages 02, 130, 137, 148,158,167. 145, 148, 167, 172, 175. not uncommon. See the note on page 17 of “ Poetry as a Representative Art.” FIG. 73.-OBLIQUE FORWARD MOVEMENT. FIQ. 74.— OBLIQUE BACKWARD MOVEMENT. REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. 133 Much of what is to follow, including the explanation of the principles underlying the gestures of the arms and hands on pages 149 to 164, upon which is based, too, the whole system of facial expression in Chapter IX., was prepared from original material for the “ Orator’s Manual ” years ago ; nor are any explanations similar in kind trace- able to Delsarte, though, as they are now adopted almost universally by those who teach his system, they have come to be incorrectly attributed to him. In accordance with the intention indicated on page 126, we have still to notice the conditions of thought repre- sented by the effects of the tendencies under considera- tion, as manifested in the forms of activity resulting from the combined influences of their sources and directions. To treat this part of our subject properly we must divide it, and observe the effects of activity in connection with the tendencies, first of the vital, next of the mental, and last of the motive nature. To begin with, it may be said that any one who has watched movements that are dis- tinctively instinctive and unconscious, like those of chil- dred at play when no one is present to overawe or criticise them, will recognize what is meant when it is affirmed that all their methods of expression have a tendency to assume the free, unconstrained, graceful forms that are naturally expressed in curves (Fig. 26, page 60). There is a sense, therefore, in which the vital tendency, when combined with activity, leads to movements as well as to forms that are characterized by roundness. A very little observation of the same kind will reveal, too, the truth of a counterbalancing statement. This is, that, in the degree in which the mind is in a reflective and conscious state, the movements have a tendency to as- sume the constrained, awkward forms that are naturally expressed in lines that are the opposite of curves. In the 134 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , /tAZO ARCHITECTURE. gesture, for instance, mentality always straightens as well as stiffens the muscles not only of the hands and fingers, which are its chief organs of expression, but also of the arms. The moment that we see these members put into the straight upward, downward, or outward shape of a pointing or an emphatic oratorical gesture, whether made with finger (Fig. 76, page 134), fist, or whole hand (Fig. 75, page 134), or with both hands and legs, as in the case of the man in Fig. 77, page 135, evidently having a hard task in trying to convince others of the truth of his assertions, then we know that it does not give expression to a purely in- stinctive con- dition, but to that which is under the con- trol of the re- flective powers ; ho, we know that the forms as- sumed are results of an endeavor to interpret thoughts of which the mind is definitely conscious. Mentality has been said to be indicated by sharpness and straightness of form. Evidently, it can be said to be indicated by movements, too, of the same kind, for it is definite thought more than anything else that is indicated by these gestures and postures, aiming or pointing, as they do, with both angularity and straightness of finger, hand, arm, or leg. FIG. 75.— DOWNWARD CLOSING GESTURE. See pages 134, 136, 156, 158. -SIDEWARD FINGER GESTURE. See pages 134, 136, 156, 158, 159 - REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. 1 35 According to what has been said, we should expect the motive tendency to add an element of still greater activity to the mode of expression natural to either the vital or the mental. This activity may express itself through that which pertains more particularly either to the body or to the mind, or to that combination of the two which was said, on page 12, to correspond to what is under- stood by soul. Activity must manifest itself, evidently, in the degree in which a form of movement causes cer- tain parts of the body to appear to pass through, or to cover, a large part of space. We have found already that length is an indication of ac- tivity. Notice, now, that this is true as applied not only to form, but to movement, in fact that it is true of form because of its being true of movement. The long body with its long legs and arms, and, where the latter are short, a long reach of the arms FIQ - 77 - -angular argumentative 0 MOVEMENTS. upward, downward, or out- c T „, r ’ ’ bee pages 02, 134. ward, — these are necessary for an appearance of a great amount of bodily activity, i. e., of movement over a great amount of space. This state- ment conforms, too, as will be observed, to that already made with reference to the expression of activity through the agency, particularly, of the arms. Notice Fig. 78, page 136, also Fig. 2, page 21. But from what has been said of the motive tendency, we should expect it not only to add greater activity to the modes of expression natural to the vital and to the 136 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. mental, but also, in some way, to combine them. With this thought in mind, notice the construction of the human body, especially of the limbs, and of these, particularly, the legs, arms, and hands, which, as has been pointed out, are, in a peculiar sense, the organs of motive expres- sion. Observe how perfectly these are fitted to combine all the possibilities of the curve, representing the vital ; and of the straight and angular, representing the mental. They can represent these because they have not only length but joints. Expression by means of joints always necessitates angles. But these, when slight, do not appear to be angles so much as curves. Joints, therefore, furnish that which enables the body, in con- nection with straight lines, to mani- fest both curves and angles, and thus to combine both instinctive and re- flective expression. But when these are combined, we might infer, for reasons given on page 1 1, that we should have emotive expression. A FIG. 78. i r dancing movements. glance at men’s actual movements See pages 130, 135, 142. will confirm by facts the accuracy of this inference. With a little emotion, instinctive rather than reflective in its source, the angles of the arms and hands, as indeed of the whole body, are so slight that all seem to be curves (see Fig. 20, page 48, also Fig. 34, page 71). With a little emotion, mainly of a reflective kind, the arms hang straight at the sides, or are so disposed as to have an effect of straightness in connection with curves (see Fig. 79, also Figs. 75 and 76, page 134). With much emotion, whether REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. I 37 its source be instinctive or reflective, every movement becomes more or less angular as well as curved (see Figs. 73, page 132, and 39, page 79). It need scarcely be pointed out now that to associate the expression of the instinc- tive, the reflective, and the emotive, respectively, with the curve, the straight line in connection with the angular, and the combi- nation of all, is to reach a result in exact conformity with the principles stated on page 61. We shall not have done with this part of our sub- ject, however, till it has been shown what phase of activity in the movements involves a representation of that emotive condition, which, on page 113, was said to be moral in charac- ter. Of course it must be a phase in which physical tendencies seem to be sub- ordinated to mental. We have found that the former show themselves in curves, and the latter in straight FIG - 79 -“ A NEW guinea chief. and angular lines. Now See pages 136, 138. what must happen when both tendencies act, yet the latter control? — when the curves remain, yet seem used by that which can make them straight ? — what but this? All the 138 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. muscles of the limbs, whatever forms they may assume, become rigid. Slight mental control is sometimes mani- fested by as great a variety of angles as great mental control ; but in the former, the muscles are limp (Fig. 88, page 147), in the latter they are always tense (Fig. 84, page 145). It is seldom, therefore, that the actor or orator, except when intentionally depicting weakness, fails to keep com- mand of the muscles in every part of his frame. At the same time, he tries to accommodate his actions to the re- quirements of curvature as well as of straightness, know- ing that while strength of thought, as indicated by the latter, is a virtue, unyielding strength of this kind, with no suggestion of geniality of nature or of sympathy with what is outside of oneself, is as ungracious as it is ungrace- ful. The ordinary position in oratory, consciously as- sumed and by tense muscles too, is that of the compound curve. This, as distinguished from the simple curve, is one, the different parts of which point in different direc- tions. As manifested by the pose of the whole body, for instance, the limbs as far up as the hips would point in one direction, the trunk, as far as the shoulders, in an- other direction, and the shoulders and head again in the direction of the lower limbs (see Figs. 79, page 137 ; 28, page 62 ; and 38, page 77). As manifested by the posi- tions assumed by the arms and hands, the part of the arm above the elbow would, when making the opening gesture (see page 156), be bent in one direction, the part below the elbow in another direction, while the hand from the wrist downward would be bent in the same direction as the arm above the elbow. Notice this curve, in both gestures of the man in Fig. 27, page 61, in the gesture in Fig. 97, page 159, and, as very well made, in the high FIQ. £0.— THE WwMAN TAKEN IN ADULTERY. N. POUSSIN. 140 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. gesture in Fig. 82, page 143. On the contrary, in mak- ing the closing gesture (see page 156), the elbow is not bent, the effect of the compound curve in this case being produced best when the arm is straight, as in Fig- 7 5- page ] 34- ^ th e elbow be bent, the effect is that of a single curve, as in the weak gesture represented in Fig. 72, page 132. The compound curve, as used both in the pose of the body and in the arm gesture, seems to be the one which best satisfies the requirements of beauty, and, not only so, but also, apparently for the same reason the one which, by preserving the balance of the mem- bers, satisfies best also the requirements of strength. In the arm, this curve appears especially important, inasmuch as the slight bend at the elbow prevents the gesturer from seeming to strike beyond his reach, and thus augments the appearance of force, as well as of grace, imparted by the visible blow. As influenced by the motive inspiring it, i. e., by the condition of the emotive nature, this slight bend in the ideal pose and gesture becomes straighter and stiffer in the degree in which the only consideration is truth which the gesturer, in an upright and downright way, is trying to lay before us. Notice both hands of the Christ in Fig. 80, page 139. But this consideration is itself often very closely connected with sufficient interest to stir the emotions ; and in the degree in which these become profoundly moved, they are no longer satisfied to persuade us with gentle curves or to pound thought into us with straight aimed lines (notice the figures at the left of the Christ in Fig. 80, page 139); but they excite our memories and imaginations by adding all sorts of graphic and dramatic effects through the use of angles. Notice the figures at the right and left in Fig. 80 ; also in Fig. 39 - P a g e 79 - CHAPTER IX. REPRESENTATION THROUGH PARTICULAR GESTURES OF THE TORSO AND LIMBS. Complex Nature of the Subjects to be Treated and the Order in which they will be Considered — Different Parts of the Body as Imparting a Pecul- iar Phase to Emphasis — Vital versus Mental Movements of the Body in Genera] Illustrating this : Those Mainly Physical of the Lower Torso — Of the Lower Limbs — Mainly Mental of the Hands and Head with Upper Torso — Mainly Emotive of the Upper Torso with Shoulders and Arms — Mental or Interpretive Movements of the Hands — The Place in the Physical Sphere in which the Eland is Held : Horizontal Extension — Vertical, Downward, and Upward Extension — Meaning of Gestures as Determined by their Physical Relations, as About, Below, or Above the Breast — Indicative not of Actual so much as Conceived Relations — Interpretive Shapes Assumed by the Hand — Physical Suggestions of the Fist — Mental of the Fingers — Emotive of the Palm — Closing Gesture with Averted Palm — Opening Gesture with the Opposite — Motive Ex- pression in the Methods of Managing the Arms — Movement from and toward the Body and in Both Ways. T HUS far we have been observing the general princi- ples of representation through the human form. Now we have to notice the methods of applying them in particular representative emergencies. Of course, this task involves a somewhat complex view of each phase of the subject, inasmuch as elements of expression hitherto considered as operating apart, must now be considered as operating together. But by following the same general order of treatment as has been pursued up to this point, it is hoped that the whole subject maybe made to appear 142 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. clear. This order will lead us to begin by noticing the more physical movements as distinguished from those that are more mental. As the latter, according to what was said in page 112, are the distinctively interpretive gestures of the hands and head, our object will be sufficiently attained by considering, first, as distinguished from these two, the other parts of the body. It is in them evidently that we find the most physical movements, and, in connection with them, as follows from what has been said already, the movements that are most likely to con- vey impressions of the instinctive, the unconscious, the graceful, and, in fact, of everything naturally accompanying vitality. Carrying to its logical conclusions a phase of thought already many times suggested, let us begin by noticing the natural inference brought out by Del- sarte, that prominence given to any part of the body by gestures made with them or to them by the use of the hands, feet, or head, as indicated on pages 1 26 to 128, gives to an expression the phase of emphasis represented by that part of the body. Thus move- ments of or to the abdomen (Fig. 81, page 142) or hips, as in certain dances (Fig. 78, page 136), give a physical phase of emphasis ; movements of or to the hands or the head give a mental or reflective phase of emphasis, interpreting it and rendering it intelligible (see page 1 12, also Figs. 69, page 129, and 70, page 131). Movements of or to the breast again give a motive, or sometimes, as has been said, a higher emotive or moral phase of em- phasis (see Fig. 38, page 77, also Fig. 82, page 143). FIG. 81.— DISCOMFORT IN THE ABDOMEN. See pages 142, 162. FIG. 82.— THE RESURRECTION. T. N. MACLEAN. See pages 140, 142, 147, 151, 152, 160, 161, 162, 167, 174, 286 143 144 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. To refer in this place to any large number of the many possible movements of the body illustrating these state- ments would unwarrant- ably extend this part of our subject. Suffice it to say that there is hardly a conceivable pose which the principles involved in them, in connection with what has been said hither- to, cannot explain, if only one be willing to expend a little thought in trying to interpret it. Recalling what has been said of the instinctive nature of movements out- ward and upward, the reflective nature of the contrary movements, and the emotive nature of side or oblique movements in either direction, we shall recognize that if the torso, the seat of vitality, lean slightly forward or to one side, with the aid of hips, knees, and ankles, all these in an instinctive way con- tribute merely to the gracefulness and geniality which we associate with healthful and, often, for this reason, good-natured vitality (Fig. 83, page 144). The same part of the body sway- FIG. 83.— THE FAUN OF PRAXITELES. See pages 61, 144, 147, 282. REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 1 45 ing from side to side, accentuates by action the same impression. Twisting, it indicates a little more conflict between feeling and thought, but with much indecis- ion and impotence with reference to surroundings (Fig. 85, page 146). Drawn backward, it indicates something that checks by thought the instinctive promptings (Fig. 89, page 148). If drawn back obliquely, it indicates a plot to get the better of one who is thus opposed (Fig. 73, page 132). Thrust forward, in the same oblique way, it shows that conflict with him has begun (Fig. 74, page 132) ; and when, in either position, hips, knees, and ankles cause all the limbs to be out of line with the vertical, they show the sharpness of nervous excitation (Fig. 39, page 79), and, where this assumes an active form, excitation intelligently embodying itself in physical force (Fig. 31, page 65). Held erect again, the torso and lower limbs, in- creasing, as all do when used together, the impression of length, manifest vitality used for moral effect (Figs. 58, page 104, 71, page 132, 84, page 145). Glancing now at the lower limbs, the man who stands on one leg and rests with the other — and especially if he let this dangle or hang loosely, — has divided into two parts the expression of vitality, pure and simple. One half of it is pointing FIG - 84 .— length r r FOR MORAL EFFECT. to the source of activity or the emotive, See pages 62, 138, in case his free knee be thrust into prom- I45, I52 - inence, and to the source of intelligence in case his free foot. (Fig. 85, page 146). The man who sits, crossing his legs near the knee, letting one foot hang loosely has subordinated his vital nature to the emotive (Fig. 86, page IO 146 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. 146). But if he bring the foot up in a line horizontal with the knee on which it rests, and begin with his hands to rub and pat his lower limbs, even his mentality has been pressed into service to aid the emotively vital nature of his expression (Fig. 87, page 146). The straddle and the stride are caricatures of the parallelism of the straight line, which straight line, as has been indicated, is usually representative of reflective self-control. So, though the FIG. 85.— EXPRESSION FIG. 86.— EXPRESSION WITH FIG. 87.— EXPRESSION WITH WITH THE FOOT. THE FOOT AND LEG. THE FOOT AND KNEE. See pages 130, 145. See page 145. See page 146. one who assumes them may imagine that they are morally strong, we merely laugh at him. The order in which we are to consider the parts of the body obliges us to postpone noticing the manifestations of the conditions of thought through the use of the hands and head, until after ending what is to be said of the rest of the form. Accordingly these two need mention here merely so far as they are used conjointly with other members. It has been said, for instance, that the lower torso is the RF PRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. I47 seat of the vital and physical, and the upper of the emo- tive and moral nature. This distinction may enable us to gauge the controlling motive. See the position of the drunkard in Fig. 88, page 147, also of the man in Fig. 27, page 61. In Fig. 83, page 144, the side emphasis of the hips is evenly balanced by the forward inclination of the chest. This Faun, therefore, has, at least, some soul. But in Fig. 28, page 62, only the higher emotive nature is made prominent. Sometimes both the upper and lower torso may unite in an instinctive movement forward or toward an object of desire or affection. But the moment that reflection begins to have any influence upon the in- stinctive feelings, self-conscious modesty, timidity, or caution will draw the torso backward. If, then, the influence be ex- erted upon the instinctive feelings alone, a counter forward movement on the part of the head (Fig. 89, page 148) or eyes or hands will interpret the secret which the heart keeps hid (Fig. 91, page 149). So if it be chiefly the thought that is thus FIQ W| ^ 8 H the^ps' 01 ^ influenced, it will be the head that is thrust forward (see Fig. go, page 148, also a man at the left in Fig. 39, page 79) or drawn backward (see the head of the Judas in Fig. 92, page 150). If in connection with the torso thrust forward, the head be held back, this indicates that thought is not yet in a mood to commit itself entirely, but is merely weighing that to which desire impels (see the man in Fig. 27, page 61). The head held violently back indicates plotting and scheming, as in Fig. 31, page 65, also the Judas in Fig. 92, page 150. See pages 138, 147. 148 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. The breast, shoulders, and arms, so far as the latter can be considered otherwise than in connection with the hand gestures, represent, for reasons that have been given, the condition of that emotive influence which furnishes the motive for action, and, if having to do with conduct, for moral or immoral action. If the breast swell gently, but visibly in and out more than is necessary for breathing ; or lean toward an object (notice the John in Fig. 92, page 150) or away from it (notice the Judas in the same figure) ; or if the shoulders move for- ward and upward (Fig. 91, page 149), 01- backward and down- ward (Fig. 89, page 148) ; or if the elbows and wrists make sim- ilar movements, even no more than the curves that they na- turally use in walking, all these movements . . WALKING WITH FACE indicate the instinc- tN advance. tive promptings of See pages 148, 167, the emotive nature. In the degree in which such movements are intense (Fig. 91, page 149), they represent a desire to possess or to be possessed by some person or thing; and, in connection with this, they indicate that the emotive nature is in- fluenced in accordance with a conscious mental purpose. The same parts of the frame heaved rapidly, rigidly, and angularly in the same directions (Figs. 73 and 74, page 132) indicate that the emotive nature is under the influence of FIG. 89. WALKING WITH UPPER CHEST AND BROW IN ADVANCE. See pages 145, 147, 148, 169, 172. REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 1 49 both mentality and great excitement. But, for a contrary reason, the same parts of the frame held in a straight up- right position indicate that they are under the sway of that intelligent self-control which results when one feels the dignity and seriousness of life and its responsibilities. They represent emotions used or influenced in a good sense morally (Fig. 93, page 15 1, and Fig. 28, page 62). We pass on now to the interpretive move- ments of the hands and face,' taking first the former, both because they are more closely allied to the physical, and, because, when un- derstood, they render those of the face more easy to explain. Here we shall follow an order of thought correspond- ing in general to that already pursued, by con- sidering, first, the place, as we might say, in the physical sphere, about , below , or above the breast, from which the effect of the gesture when struck is produced ; second, the shape of the hand, distinctively interpretive in its nature, which is assumed at the stroke of the gesture ; and, lastly, the movement of the hand toward the body or away from it as it is conveyed by the arms to the place where the stroke is made. FIQ. 91.— FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE. See pages 147, 148, 151, 162, 169. 150 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. With reference to this place, which, as has been said, we are to consider first, notice that it may extend the physical sphere of the man, to those standing in front of FIG. 92.— JUDAS, PETER, AND JOHN, FROM THE LAST SUPPER OF LEONARDO DA VINCI. Seepages 147, 148, 158, 167, i6g, 173,287. him, either horizontally or vertically. Horizontal move- ments, i. e ., those at the sides, whether made in connection with downward or upward directions of the arms, make REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. I 5 I this sphere seem broader. Breadth, as we have found, is the test of vital measurement. These horizontal move- ments, therefore, indicate one’s relation to other persons or things on the plane of life. It follows from this that movements which extend to the greatest distance at the sides, refer to subjects which are conceived to be inclusive of considerations at the greatest distance physically, and hence too, sometimes, by way of analogy, mentally and morally, from the person making the movements. They refer, therefore, to the comprehen- sive, the broad, the abstract, the general (see Fig. 28, page 62; also Figs. 97, page 159, and 98, page 160). As from this position they gradually approach the body, their signi- ficance changes by degrees until they are made directly in front, as when one strikes up and down with his finger ; or clasps the hands together or points to the breast. Then they refer to what is conceived to be relatively non-comprehensive, either because that to which they refer is in itself of only narrow importance, as when the finger is used playfully or in stigma- tizing (see Fig. 94, page 152) ; or, if it be more important, is so only because of some concrete example or specific appli- cation (see Figs. 82, page 143, and 91, page 149) ; or has been so thoroughly studied and analyzed that a man feels that it has become exclusively his own (see the author in Fig. 29, page 63). If, in the gesture, the hands be carried so as to extend the sphere of the man vertically, they increase, when held forward, which is usually the case in connection with the FIQ. 93— WALKING UPRIGHT. See pages 149, 169. 152 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , , 4 .iVZ? ARCHITECTURE . emphatic downward gesture, what by analogy we may term the effects of sharpness (notice again the author in Fig. 29, page 63). If the hands be extended above the head, as in the upward gesture, they increase the effects of length (see Figs. 2, page 21, 71, page 132, 82, page FIQ. 94.— ADDING INSULT TO INJURY. GAETANO CHIERICI. See pages 151, 156, 263. 143, and 84, page 145). These facts suggest a correspond- ence sufficient for our general purpose between the down- ward gesture and the expression of the mental nature and the upward and the expression of the moral or higher emotive nature. REPRESEN TATION THROUGH GESTURES. 153 Combining now, as is always done in practice, the effects of the horizontal and the vertical directions, but with main reference still to the latter, we may say that there are three planes in which the stroke of a gesture may be made. One is on a level with the breast, which is the seat of the motive or emotive nature, or, as we may say (see page 12), of the soul. One is below it, and one is above it. The principle underlying the phase of thought represented by the hand, when carried to either of the three planes, is as follows : Every soul inside of a body conceives of itself as at the centre of the universe, w'hich the horizon rims, the earth grounds, and the zenith domes. Every man, even the least egotistic, is compelled to think that not only the world but the universe revolves around himself. Perhaps he is right — who knows? If God be really in that fourth dimension within us, and the human soul be really a focus in which the rays from earth and heaven meet and blend, how far is this from the truth ? But whether right or wrong, a man cannot rid himself of this conception. When he gestures, he cannot do other- wise than give expression to it. His hands are carried on a level with the breast to represent what he conceives to be on a physical, and hence, by analogy, a mental or moral level with himself. They move before him to indi- cate that which he really sees there, or to refer ideally to the truth or hope that he anticipates in the future. They move behind him to indicate that which is really behind him, something that he has abandoned or turned from possibly with loathing or regret ; or they may refer ideally to a condition of opinion and life beyond which he has progressed. They move to one side to refer to some actual physical presence there, or, ideally, if the gesture indicate exclusion, to something that is a side issue from 154 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. the main line of thought; possibly to some course that is a diversion from straight-forward action. But if the gesture indicate inclusion, it refers to the general and compre- hensive. The hands are carried below the breast to represent that which one conceives to be physically mentally, or morally below himself ; i.e., below his sight, comprehension, or control ; to indicate a pathway, an idea that he can understand, a power that he can master. They are carried above the breast to represent that which he conceives to be physically, mentally, or morally above himself ; above his sight, conception, or control; to indi- cate a star, a grand idea, a mighty force. In applying these principles, it must always be borne in mind that the different directions taken by the gesture rep- resent not what actually is, but what a man conceives to be. Most of the published discussions of this subject do not sufficiently emphasize this fact. We are told, for instance, that good and God must receive upward gestures, and bad and the Devil downward gestures. But this depends entirely upon one’s point of view, upon his conception. The expression, “ Get thee behind me, Satan,” would require a downward and backward gesture, because the speaker would conceive of Satan as below and behind him- self morally ; but the expression : There was a Brutus once that would have brooked The Eternal Devil to keep his state in Rome As easily as a king — Shakespeare : Julius Casar, i., 2 . would require an upward and forward gesture, because in it Satan is conceived of as a foe of overwhelming force, whom one is facing, therefore as one physically above and before the speaker, and not by any means below or behind him. REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. i5S Now let us consider the shapes assumed by the hand in the place where the gesture is struck. There may be said to be three of these shapes, namely, that of the fist, of the finger, and of the exposed palm. These all seem to inter- pret the gesture mentally by adding significance to its mode of emphasis. We shall find that they represent, respectively, vital, i. e., physical emphasis, showing the in- fluence of will ; mental emphasis, showing the influence of thought ; and motive emphasis, showing the influence of emotion. In appearance, too, they correspond in broad- ness, sharpness, and length to the forms already found to represent corresponding conceptions. Of the truth of these statements there can be no doubt in the mind of one who thinks of them. All must recog- nize that the fist, the broadest, roundest form that the hand can assume, represents, as nearly as any shape pos- sible for it, vital and physical emphasis, will-power applied to the impression of ideas. Just as a fist threatens with a power greater than one’s own, if held above one’s head ; and with one’s own power, if held on a level with one’s breast, so it manifests strength of conviction and a deter- mination to pound the truth into an opponent, if made in connection with a downward gesture of emphasis. Equally evident is the meaning of the pointing finger. It is the sharpest form that the hand can assume, and, according to what has been said, should represent inter- pretive mentality. This it undoubtedly does. When we point to an object, we do so not as an exhibition of will or emotion, but of thought. Nor do we wish others to do anything beyond concentrating their thought upon it. This is certainly true of the finger gesture wherever used descriptively, whether it point downward (see two figures in Fig. 80, page 139), upward (see one figure in Fig. 39, 156 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. page 79). to the front (see the boy in Fig. 94, page 152), or to one side (see Fig. 76, page 134). This is true even when made with all but the forefinger clinched into an unmistakable fist. This fist merely causes the gesture to stigmatize and denounce with a more physical and forcible effect. When used as a gesture of emphasis, too, the finger means the same. It directs attention to the small, delicate, and subtle points of conceptions, arguments, or series of facts upon which the speaker wishes to concen- trate not the energies or emotions of himself or his audience, but their powers of analytic thought. Notice the author in Fig. 29, page 63 ; also two figures at the right of Fig. 39, page 79. In Fig. 69, page 129, the finger on the chin indicates that the man has analyzed suffi- ciently to understand exactly what course of action his will is to choose or reject. All the fingers on the brow in Fig. 70, page 13 1, indicate a general state of confusion with reference to the thought that is being considered. Last of all, we have the gesture with the fingers and thumb unfolded from the palm, and displaying all their length. According to the principles to which reference has already been made so often, this shape ought to rep- resent the motive or emotive attitude. The moment that we examine closely the way in which the gesture is used, we cannot doubt that this is precisely what it does represent. There are two forms of it, namely, the closing , in which the palm is averted, i. e., turned away from the body, where the speaker cannot see it, as in Figs. 95, page 157, 7 1, 7 2 > P a g e '3 2 , and 75- page 134; and the opening , in which the position is reversed, where the palm is held so that the speaker can see it, as in Figs. 96, 97, page 1 59, and 98, page 160. The closing gesture seems to push downward, upward, backward, forward or side- 157 FIG. 95.— CAIN BY GIOVANNI DUPRE. See pages 150, 15S, 281. 153 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. ward, as if to keep all external things or thoughts from touching or influencing the one who is gesturing. It seems to close all channels of communication between him and the outside world. Notice how the left hand of the Christ in Fig. So, page 139, seems to separate him from the woman before him. The opening gesture seems prepared to give and receive things or thoughts from every quarter; and thus to open these channels. Notice the right hand of the Christ in the same Fig. 80, page 139. Both gestures, therefore, seem to represent the motive or emotive attitude. To extend what has been said, the closing gesture, being used to reject (Fig. 75, page 1 34), to ward off (Fig. 74, page 132), to deny (Fig. 75, page 134), what is unpleasant (Fig. 72, page 132), threatening (Fig. 95, page 157), or un- truthful (notice the man at the right in Fig. 39, page 79), is used descriptively to refer to anything having these characteristics, to anything, therefore, like a storm, an avalanche, a disgusting sight, a foe, or any supposed source of plotting or hostility (see Fig. 95, page 157). For an analogous reason, as applied to abstract thought, it is naturally used by one who is in a mood to dogmatize, to dictate (see the hands of two men standing at the right behind the ox in Fig. 164, page 279), or to express any con- ception, concerning which he is not in a condition to re- ceive suggestions from others. Notice the left hand of Judas in Fig. 92, page 150; also the finger gesture in Fig. 76, page 134. It indicates, therefore, everything which one does not care to submit to others as an open question, a question left for them to decide. In accordance with what was said in the last paragraph, it closes the channel of influence, as this comes from others, and seems to say, simply: “This is my opinion. I hold it irrespective of REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 159 anything that you may hold.” Derived from this expres- sional use of the gesture, is a secondary descriptive use of it, according to which it is made to refer to anything which the mind cannot conceive to be an open question for others to think of as they choose, therefore to any- thing which, if thought of at all, must be thought of in only one way. Thus “impending fate,” or “the laws controlling the universe,” would be indicated by high closing gestures. Closing ges- tures, too, would be used when referring to any object that to the mind’s eye has definite out- lines, like a cliff, or house. If ob- jectslike this be small, the finger usually points to them, but the fig. 97.— sideward descrip- youngest child TivE 0PENINQ gesture. • , , See pages 138, 151, 156, 160. never points to v & a thing that has definite outlines with the palm up. It is always down. It is not an open question how one shall conceive of a particular horse or dog: and so the closing gesture with the index finger, shuts out all appeal. The mind of the speaker cannot be satisfied unless the hearer conceives of these objects just as he does (see Fig. 76, page 134). The opening gesture indicates exactly the opposite. Being used to welcome or impart what is pleasant, inter- FIQ. 96.— DOWNWARD OPENING GESTURE. See pages 156, 160. l6o PAINTING , SCUPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. esting or important, it naturally refers, in a descriptive way, to any thing or thought having these characteristics, to anything conceived of, therefore, as being freely given (see the man in Fig. 27, page 61) or received like a gift or purchase, or like friendship, joy, knowledge, pros- perity, or blessedness (see the right hand in Fig. 82, page 143). As accompanying an expression of abstract thought, it evidently is in place whenever one submits an opinion as an open question for others to consider and decide as they may deem fit. It is the gesture, therefore of inquiry, persuasion, and appeal (Fig. 96, page 1 59). “ They should be put to death,” uttered with the closing gesture, means : “ This is my opinion, and I hold it irrespective of anything that you may think about it.” The same words, uttered with the opening gesture, mean : “ This is my opinion ; do you not, should you not, in view of all the arguments that I have used, agree with me?” Derived from this expressional use of the opening gesture, is a secondary descriptive use of it, causing it to refer to anything of a doubtful, indefinite nature, which it is an open question for others to think of as they choose. It would be used in mentioning a “ smiling country,” or a “ sunny landscape ” (Fig. 9 7, page 159). In conceiving of these, the speaker does not have in mind, nor does he wish the hearer to have in mind, any fixed or definite object. Im- agination can fill in the outlines as it chooses, and the gesture indicates this fact. So “ liberty,” “ prog- ress,” and “ blessedness ” receive the high opening ges- FIQ. 98.— UPWARD OPENING GESTURE. See pages 151, 161. REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 1 6 r ture, partly because they are always welcome, yet partly, too, because the results of them may manifest any one of a thousand different effects, which the mind of the listener is left free to conjure according to his fancy (Fig. 98, page 160; see also Fig. 82, page 143). The benediction after religious services in church, as given with the closing ges- tures, corresponding to the position in Fig. 71, page 132, is ritualistic. It imparts constraining grace. As given with the opening gesture, corresponding to the position in Fig. 98, page 160, it is evangelical. It solicits inspiring grace. So the hand of the woman accepting the offer of marriage in Fig. 27, page 61, not only indicates embarrass- ment, as said on page 61. It also imparts, without in- tention, the information that she is the one who will not yield, but will rule and dictate when the wedding has been consummated. The pointing finger, too, when the palm is in the position of an open gesture, does not mean the same as when it is in the position of the closing gesture. In the former case it does not point merely to definite objects ; it points to open possibilities. What is upper- most in the mind of the man at the left of the Christ in Fig. 80, page 139, is to ask a question, “What shall be done in view of that to which I point ? What is up- permost in the mind of the man pointing upward at the right of Fig. 39, page 79, is to indicate a source from which one can receive inspiration ; and he is beckoning — asking others to consider it. The motive is thus that of the opening gesture. A few sentences more will embody all that needs to be added with reference to the meanings of the movements of the hand while being conveyed by the arm to the place towards which the gesture is aimed. All these move- ments, of course, as follows from what has been said, 162 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. whether suggesting forms of curves, straight lines, or angles, give expression, in a general way, to the motive or emotive nature ; the degrees of vitality entering into this being best indicated by the action of the shoulders (see Fig. 91, page 149) ; the degrees of interpretive intent, by the adjustments of the wrist and the hand and fingers below it (See Fig. 82, page 143); and the degrees of the operating motive pure and simple by the action of the elbows (Notice the hints of this always conveyed by their nudge). These movements, moreover, by which are meant now those that are preparatory to the gesture, irrespective of the place to which the hand is conveyed, may be made with a general direction away from the body, toward the body ; or both away from it and also toward it. When used descriptively, they refer, respectively to other things than self (notice the right hand in Fig. 82, page 143), to self (notice the left hand in Fig. 82), or to both ; i. e. to the relations between other things and self. Used mainly for emphasis, the hands, when moving away from the body, represent a full, unembarrassed and, in this sense, instinc- tive expression of the actuating motive. They indicate, like the falling inflection of the voice, that the mind has come to a positive and decisive conclusion. When the hands move toward the body (see page 129), the gestures are reflective ; and represent something in thought that checks the expression of the motive, something physical in phase, if they end near the abdomen (Fig. 81, page 142), mental if near the head (Fig. 69, page 129), and emotional or moral if near the heart (Fig. 82, page 143). They indicate, like the rising inflection of the voice, that the mind is thinking but has come to no conclusion ; that it is asking a question ; that it is influenced by doubt, REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 1 63 perhaps, or surprise (notice the representation of this in Fig. 99, page 163) ; the mood is, at least, anticipative and indecisive. When the hands move both from the body and also toward it as in Fig. 99, or, as is the case in the most common emphatic oratorical gesture, both toward it and from it, they represent a combination of the two con- ceptions already mentioned. The effect then is exactly par- allel to that of the circumflex inflection (see “ Orator’s Man- ual,” pp. 56—59). If thegestures begin with the movement to- ward the body, this indicates that the man has asked a ques- tion ; and if they end with the movement away from it, that, in his own mind, as a result of due examination and a consid- eration of arguments pro and con , he has answered the question. The first direction shows that there has been indecision, the second that he has come to a conclusion ; the first that he has investi- gated, the second that he has reached a definite result. The suggestion of both facts in this gesture causes it to convey an impression of breadth of thought as well as of intensity. If the order of the movements be reversed, as often in dramatic gestures (Fig. 99, page 163), of course their meaning is reversed. But whatever be their order, it is evident that movements preparatory to starting the final stroke of a gesture, in the degree in which they are contin- ued through a long time or cover a large space, enhance FIG. 99.— BOV SURPRISED. See pages 130, 163, 171. 1 64 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. the representative effect, inasmuch as they indicate thus the degree in which the mind has reached the opinion which it expresses as a result of weighing the possibilities both in favor of this opinion and against it. For further suggestions with reference to this subject, especially as applied to oratory, the reader is referred to the interpretations of the meanings of the movements described by the arms when preparing for the gestures, as well as to the explanations of the methods of making them, and of learning to make them, which are detailed in full in the author’s “ Orator’s Manual.” CHAPTER X. REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSITIONS AND MOVE- MENTS OF TPIE HEAD AND FACE. Correspondencies between Gestures of the Head and of the Rest of the Body — Physical Movements of the Head toward or from Objects or Persons, Directly, Sideward, or Obliquely — Phases of Mentality Suggested by its Different Parts — Illustrations of how these Parts Operate in Con- nection with the Movements — Complicated Nature of Expression by Movements of the Head, Eyes, and Facial Muscles — Meaning of Move- ments or Positions of the Head Forward with the Eyes Looking on a Level — With the Eyes Looking Downward — Or Upward — Meaning of Movements or Positions of the Head Backward with the Eyes Look- ing on a Level — With the Eyes Looking Downward — Or Upward — Meaning of Normal Positions of the Head — Difficulty of Distinguishing between these Different Movements or Positions — Facial Expression Corresponding to Shapes Assumed by the Fingers in Hand Gestures — • — Rigid Physical Effects like those of the Fist with Mouth, Brows and Nose — Mental Effects of Concentration, like those of the Finger — Emotive Effects as in the Closing and Opening Gestures, through LTsing Muscles of the Mouth — -The Eyebrows — The Eyes — The Nostrils — Outline Diagrams of Different Effects — Comic Effects. HP HE gestures of the head involve many different ele- ments, which can be understood most readily, per- haps, if we begin by noticing the ways in which their various effects correspond to certain of those already considered. Of course, the entire head has to do with the representation of mentality ; but different phases of emphasis are imparted in connection with this. The movements of the whole 1 66 PAINTING , SC UP TUP E , AA09 ARCHITECTURE. head, as produced by the neck, must manifest merely a more mental phase of the kind of emphasis produced by movements with other parts of the body. With this un- derstanding, it will be recognized that, according to what was said on page 129, the movement forward is vital, the movement backward is mental, the movement sideward (see page 151), oblique or rotary is emotive, and, often, as in denying or threatening, emotively unsympathetic. But besides these movements of the whole head we have what is termed facial expression, imparting phases of em- phasis far more distinctively interpretive of mental pro- cesses. The factors entering into facial expression, too, can be analyzed. They are, first, the glances of the eye in a forward, sideward, downward, or upward direction. These indicate the outlook, and correspond to the effects pro- duced by the hand when, as carried by the arms, it is aimed in similar directions. Next are to be noticed the adjust- ments of the muscles of the countenance. These, as we shall find, correspond to the distinctively interpretive adjustments of palm, thumb, and fingers; and in a very general way, it may be said that the contraction of all the muscles corresponds to the fist gesture ; of the same horizontally, as between the eyes and in the nostrils and lips, to the finger gesture ; of the same vertically, as in lowering brows and compressed lips, to the closing gesture ; and the relaxing of the muscles to the opening gesture. Lastly, here as elsewhere in the body, active combinations of the other two methods of expression, through the eye and facial muscles, produce special effects of their own. Beginning with the head as a whole, it is well to notice, first, that, in accordance with what was said on page 129, a general forward movement toward an object or person indicates mentality when most under control of instinctive REPRESENTATION THROUGH HEAD AND' PACE. 1 67 (notice the slight mental force in Fig. 100, page 167, also the Peter in Fig. 92, page 150), vital, (Fig. 90, page 148), physical, and in this sense objective (P ig. 73, page 132), or sometimes aggressive promptings (Fig. 31, page 65). A general backward movement away from an object or person indicates the contrary, i. e., reflective and so contemplative (Fig. 101, page 169), cautious (notice the Judas in Fig. 92, page 150), or unaggressive prompt- ing, as in the figures to the left of Ananias in Fig. 39 ’ P a g e 79 - A general sideward movement, as in the John in Fig. 92, page 150, also in Figs. 82, page 143 ; 1 12, page 176; 1 14, page 177, and 1 17, page 177, indicates an emotive influence, a conciousness of the relation of the subject of con- sideration to persons surround- ing one. Movements both for- ward and sideward, or oblique, indicate a combination of the vital and emotive ; and move- ments both backward and side- ward, a combination of the re- flective and emotive. But in either form oblique move- ments, if accompanied by hostile facial expressions, menace either vitally or mentally in the strongest way (Figs. 73, page 132, and 74, page 132). Closely connected with these physical effects of the head are the different phases of mentality represented in its different parts or features. According to phrenology and physiognomy, as we have found, its lower back and sides and the lower jaw reveal the most with reference to the vital or physical tendencies (see Fig. 61, page 1 1 5) ; F!Q. 100. -CREDULITY. See pages 167, 168, 171, 174. 1 68 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. the region about the forehead, temples, and eyes, the most with reference to that which is purely mental ; and the middle region of the crown, and of the face, including the nose, the most with reference to that which is emotive in the highest sense, or moral. Whatever, therefore, gives prominence to any of these parts by thrusting them for- ward, gives prominence to the associations connected with them. Notice on page 129 what is said of Figs. 70, page 13 1, and 80, page 139. Of course, if the parts be deficient in size or shape, the effect produced by them will be lessened in degree. But it will not be changed in charac- ter. It needs to be borne in mind, however, that, in con- nection with each possible position of the head or eyes, there may be a conception of what is pleasurable or un- pleasurable. Precisely the same position of the head and direction of the eye may represent both faith and fear. Which of the two it is can be interpreted only by the facial muscles. Again, too, it must be borne in mind that all the effects that we are to consider are produced by way of contrast. A projected forehead, for instance, represents mentality, as contrasted with the vitality which would be represented were the chin projected. But whether the mentality be owing to a presence of thought, or merely to an absence of physical force, must be deter- mined by the expression of the eyes and facial muscles accompanying the position. The reader will now understand what is meant when it is said that if, in connection with a general forward or aggressive movement of the head toward an object or person, the face be held so that the chin is in advance, this indicates, if not aggressive vitality or physical force (see St. Michael in Fig. 58, page 104), at least unaggressive mentality (Fig. 100, page 167). This is a position often REP RE SEN TA TION THR O UGH HE A D A ND FACE. 1 69 assumed where a man has waived the exercise of his own thought, in order to listen to what others think, as partly indicated in Fig. 112, page 176. If the face be held so that the forehead is in advance, this indicates if not aggressive mentality (notice the gambler at the left of Fig. 160, page 271) at least, for the time being, unaggressive vitality (Fig. 89, page 148). If the face be held so that, on the whole, neither chin nor forehead, but rather the nose, is in advance, this indicates if not aggressive emotive or moral force, such as we see in the ordi- nary expression of eager- ness (Fig. 91, page 149), at least unaggressive vitality or mentality (Fig. 93, page 1 51). Corresponding con- ditions in connection with a general backward and therefore unaggressive movement indicate corre- sponding tendencies, end- ing in mental reflection. The slight projection of the fig. 101 .— unyielding contemplation. chin in Fig. IOI, page 169, Seepages 167, 169, 175. indicates such reflection with reference to something depending upon the exercise of vital force or will-power. A stronger indication of the same may be seen in the position of the man in Fig. 27, page 61, and of the Judas in Fig. 92, page 150. The slight projection of the forehead of the Napoleon in Fig. 63, page 1 16, indicates reflection with reference to something depending on the exercise of thought, as does, still more 170 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. decidedly, that of the Mephistopheles in Fig. 50, page 99. The positions of the heads of the man and the woman to the left of Ananias in Fig. 39, page 79, indicate, as should be the case in a representation of primitive Christians, that even balance of vital and mental tendencies which characterizes the sway of higher emotive or moral con- siderations. It will be recognized at once that expression by means of the positions and movements of the head is compli- cated. But this will become still more evident when we take into consideration the fact that the suggestions con- veyed by the movements of the head before assuming its position, and also by the directions of the glances of the eyes, and by the adjustments of the muscles of the coun- tenance, are often such as to give a radically different meaning from that which would be given by merely one of these methods of expression considered by itself. For this reason, the same desire to present this subject with clearness, which, so far, has led us to treat of each factor of emphasis separately, must lead us here to treat of all the factors when acting in conjunction. The most feasible way of doing this, and of preserving, at the same time, an order of thought approximately similar to that which has been pursued up to this point, seems to be to take the possible movements of the whole head, and notice the modifications of the significance of each of these as im- parted by the possible direction of the glances of the eye. Later, we can notice the modifications of significance as imparted by the facial muscles of the lower, higher, and middle parts of the countenance. To consider, first, combinations of movements of the head and of the eye, we have found that a thrusting of the head forward , even if sideward, toward objects or REPRESENTA TION THROUGH HEAD AND PACE. 1 7 I persons is expressive of vital force or aggressiveness. If, in connection with a non-excited and usually, therefore, a non-hostile expression of countenance, this movement be accompanied by a glance of the eyes neither upward nor downward, but on a level with their outlook, while, too, the chin is in advance, the mode of expression naturally represents a weak, because not mentally aggressive, con- dition — such as may be noticed in surprise (Fig. 99, page 163), or interrogation (see the credulity in Fig. IOO, page 167). In the degree however, in which there is a determined expression of countenance, the suggestion of physical force overbalances that of mental weakness (Fig. 90, page 148), and a hostile ex- pression, especially with a combination of a forward and a sideward move- ment imparts a physical threat (Fig. 31, page 65). T his sideward leaning of the head, as has been said, suggests emotion exercised toward a person. If, then, the eyes look in the same direction as that in which the chin is advanced, which means in an opposite direction from the inclination of the forehead, thought appears to be withheld from the person or his opinions. If the eyebrow be normal, this may rep- resent slight suspicion (Fig. 102, page 171), and if they be knit, strong disapproval or scheming (Fig. 103, page 1 7 1 ). The head thrust forward, the eyes looking forward, and the brow in advance, represents more mental force, as in FIG- 102.— AMIABLE SUSPICION. See pages 171, 186. FIG. 103.— UNAMIABLE SUSPICION. See pages 171, 177. 172 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. intelligent questioning (Fig. 104, page 172), serious doubt or perplexity (Fig. 89, page 148), or strong assertion (see the author in Fig. 29, page 63). The same forward move- ment of the head and glance of the eye with the head falling slightly, then lifting immediately, as in the ordi- nary nod, which need not be illustrated, indicates that the man, after considering whether or not there is any neces- sity of placing himself in an attitude of serious questioning or assertion, has found none. The action therefore ex- presses his acceptance of existing conditions. It gives assent. A hostile expression of countenance with the head thrust forward, the eye looking forward, and the brow in advance, especially if the movement be sideward, also conveys a more thoughtful and calculating threat than when the chin is in advance (see Fig. 73, page 132). The mere leaning of the head to one side when thus thrust forward with the eyes look- ing in the same direction in which the brow is advanced, indicates, if the eyebrows be normal and friendly, affection mingled with respect and confidence exercised toward the one toward whom the brow leans (Fig. 105, page 173) ; but if the eyebrows be knit and hos- tile, the same position may indicate a menace toward one respected enough to be feared (see the man at the left in Fig. 160, page 271). If, when the head is thrust forward, the eyes look dowu- zvard, the position indicates that the man is conscious of the subject of thought, whether a person or an idea, as FIQ. 104.— THOUGHTFUL ATTENTION. See pages 119, 172, 187. REP RE SEN TA TION 7 'HR O UGH II EA D A ND FACE. 1 7 3 socially, intellectually, or morally below his sight, concep- tion, or control. If then the features of his countenance be restful and non-excited, he is endeavoring to examine, study, or master the subject, — in a weak way, if his chin be in advance (see the man sitting on the table in Fig. 29, page 63), and in a strong way if his brow be in advance (Fig. 106, page 174). But if his facial muscles indicate un- pleasant excitation, the position represents, if the chin be in advance, force prepared to resist opposing conditions, which, as the eyes are looking downward, the man feels that he might master, and for tole- rating which, therefore, he feels accountable. Notice the uneasy but ambitious face in Fig. 107, page 174. But if the brow be in advance, this indictes a mental apprehension of opposition and difficulty without force for physical resistance. In this case the sub- jects may be conceived in many different ways, as deeply sorrowful (Fig. 108, page 174), as deeply per- plexing(Fig. 109, page 175), as frightful (Fig. 129, page 186), or as dangerous (Fig. 126, page 184). The leaning of the head sideward as well as forward, with the eyes downward, indicates a sympathetic bias. But whether this bias be in favor of a man or against him — especially as the eyes are not always visible — must be made out from the facial ex- pression. Thus the face of the J ohn, in Fig. 92, page 1 50, indicates love exercised toward Peter ; but with reference to a subject conceived to be below sight, conception, or control, and therefore capable of being understood and mastered, if necessary. The leaning of the head of the FIQ. 105.— CONFIDENCE. See page 172. 1 J 4 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE . woman in Fig. 80, page 139, expresses confidence in the Christ, together with a consciousness of shame in view of conduct which, as it was under her control, she might have avoided. If, with the head still thrust forward, the eyes look up- ward, one conceives of the subject of thought as socially, intellectually, or morally above his sight, conception, or control. The position in connection with a calm, 11011- excited expression of countenance indicates, if the chin be in advance, submission, with reference mainly to vital conditions, as in Fig. 82, page 143 ; if the brow be forward, mental submission, as in Fig. no, page 175 ; also in the kneeling forms in Fig. 35, page 72. The same position, in connection with an excited expression of countenance, in- dicates enforced submission, causing, if the chin be in ad- vance, either an effect of weak mentality, as in F ig. 100, page 167, or decided physical apprehension, as in Fig. 21, page 49, or that form of this in Fig. 1 19, page 179, and mental apprehension if the forehead be in advance, as in Fig. 128, pagei86. As in all cases in which the head leans to one side, the chin or forehead projected in the same direction as an upward side glance of the eye, suggests an FIG. 106.— GALILEO. See page 173. FIG. 107. -AMBITION. FIG. 108.- HOPELESSNESS. Seepages 173, 186. Seepages 173, 186. REPRESEN TA TION THRO UGH HEA D A ND FA CE. 1 7 5 influence, physical or mental, exerted by others. Notice again Fig. no, page 175, and Fig. 128, page 186. Now let us consider the significance of the head and eyes when the former is drawn backzuard or, if sideward, away from the object of contemp- lation. This action, in accordance with what was said on page 129, is mental and reflective. If, when it is made, the eyes gaze forward , then, in case the chin be in advance, mere mentality is subordinated to physical considerations (see Fig. 27, page 61), sometimes merely because abstract thought is waived in view of that which, on the physical plane, for the time being, excites interest (Figs. 101, page 169, also III, page 176), surprises or puzzles (Fig. 112, page 176), or, if the countenance be distorted, horrifies (Fig. 113, page 176), or arouses to intensified rage (Fig. 122, page 181). Because of the reflection suggested in this last face, however, the men- ace given is less forcible than when the head is thrust for- ward as in Fig. 73, page 132. According to what has been said before, the leaning of the head to one side, in connection with this same movement, introduces a stronger suggestion of the presence of persons in con- nection with the presentation of the subject that is being FIG. 1 10. — RELIGIOUS RAPTURE. See pages 174, 175, 179. 176 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. considered. When the chin points in the same direction as the eye, or what is the same thing, when the forehead leans away from the person toward whom one is looking, this indicates that thought is with- held from accord with that of this person on account, perhaps, of pride, as in Fig. 114, page 177, or of slight suspicion, Fig. Ill, page 176, or of stubbornness, as in Fig. 1 1 2 , page 176, or of more malevolent feelings, as in Figs. 50, page 99, and 122, page 18 1. If with the head held back and the eyes gazing forward, the brow be in advance, there is more emphatic evidence of the influence of thought. Nor does the man conceive either of himself or of the opinion which he happens at the time to hold, as subordinate to any other, although, in the degree in FIG. Ill— UNCONFIDINQ ATTENTION. See pages 175, 176 FIG. 112.— UNCONVINCED ATTENTION. FIG. 1 13. — DESPAIR. See pages 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185. See pages 175, 185. which the eyes gaze directly at those in front, or at one side, they indicate that this opinion is held by persons in some regards on a social, intellectual, or moral level REPRESENTA TIOJV THRO UC IT HEAD AND FACE. 1 77 with himself (Fig. 63, page 1 16). The same attitude might indicate, if accompanied by a knit brow, a hostile mood (Fig. 1 1 5, page 177), possibly only a suspicious mood FIQ. 114. UNCONFIDINQ PRIDE. See pages 167, 176. See pages 177, 185. FIG. 116. SATISFIED CONFIDENCE. See page 177. (Fig. 103, page 1 7 1 ), or, if accompanied by a sneer, an egotistic or contemptuous mood (see the man at the right in Fig. 29, page 63), or, if accompanied by a troubled look, an aggrieved or affrighted mood, as in those at the left of Ananias in Fig. 39, page 79. If, while the head is held back, the eyes with a satisfied look be directed to one side to a person toward whom the forehead leans, this indicates that thought has a leaning toward that person. It represents confidence, especially in his judgment (Fig. 116, page 177), and, as the head is held back, men- tal assurance that the confidence is not misplaced. If, however, the eyes have a frightened look, this position may represent the extreme of fear FIG. 117.— IMPUDENCE. See pages 167, 178. 178 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. in view of that to which mentality finds itself obliged to surrender. (Fig. 132, page 188). If with the head held back the eyes gaze downward , and the chin be in advance, the man has waived the ex- penditure of thought upon a subject because he conceives of it as sociably, intellectually, or morally below the level of his sight, comprehension, or control. The position when very emphatic indicates dissent together with unwillingness to weigh evidence (Fig. 112, page 176) ; also, to one looking backward too, haughtiness, su- perciliousness, impudence (Fig. 1 17, page 177), and, in a hos- tile countenance, contemptuous rage (Fig. 122, page 1 8 1). But if the brow be in advance, it indicates that, while the man still conceives himself to be master of the subject, he is will- ing to expend his mental ener- gies upon it. Notice the sug- gestion of moral superiority, though connected with an ap- peal to reason, in the man mak- See pages 179, 187. . , - mg the upward finger gesture in Fig. 39, page 79 ; also the suggestion of intellectual superiority in the man, who is nevertheless paying at- tention, at the right in Fig. 29, page 63 ; and, once more, the malicious confidence in the results of his own plots manifested in the hostile countenance in Fig. 50, page 99. If, with the head held back and not inclining to either side, the eyes gaze upward , the man conceives of the REPRESENTA TION THROUGH HEAD AND FACE. I 79 source of subordination as something above his sight, com- prehension, or control. If then his chin be in advance, the position indicates, according to the expression of the other features, that his own mental comprehension or control is waived on account either of faith in a higher power (Fig. 118, page 178), or fear of it (Fig. 1 19, page 179). If then the face also lean to one side, as it does to an extent in Fig. 1 18, with the eyes looking upward in the same direction, this may indicate indifference to lower or worldly subjects or persons on account of enthusiastic recognition of help from a source higher than ordinarily comes to men, giving an expression of religious rapture as in Fig. 1 10, page 175 ; or, aided by emphasis of chin and lower lip, of irreligious triumph, as in Fig. 120, page 179. The head held back, with the eyes upward and the brow in advance, is an almost impossible position ; but there is a suggestion of it in Fig. 63, page 1 16, and Fig. 121, page 1 8 1 . In both cases it joins to the conception of higher control, the feeling that this is acting through the man’s own mentality. Napoleon is the “ man of destiny ” ; and Fig. 12 1 hints of one conscious that he himself has been FIQ. 119.— apprehensive: astonishment. See pages 174, 179, 185. FIQ. 120.— TRIUMPH. See page 179. I So PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. a co-worker with fate in producing the trouble which has overtaken him. The head held in its normal position, neither thrust forward nor drawn backward, representing, as it does, no bias in the direction either of vital energy or of mental suf- ficiency, shows supremacy of the motive, higher emotive, or moral nature. In these circumstances, there is some- times more opportunity for emphasizing the distinctively emotional representations of the sideward movements of the head. Its inclination alternately to one side and then to the other, indicates a balancing between ten- dencies for or against a person or project, therefore uncer- tainty ; if persistently made, then settled uncertainty or indifference ; if flippantly made, then impotence in view of that to which one is indifferent or of things conceived to be trivial. A rotary movement of the head held in any position, seems to have the effect of shaking off influ- ence, or like the closing gesture, of closing the channels of communication between the one who makes it and others. It signifies, if the eyes look toward the person to whom it is made, negation, rejection ; and if the eyes and face be turned away from him, it includes, with these, the idea of distrust. Owing to the difficulty, in certain cases, of distinguish- ing from one another a forward, a backward, and a normal position of the head considered as a whole, similar impres- sions are sometimes conveyed by each of them. For this reason, there have been some necessary repetitions in these explanations. But it is hoped that they have been made as few as possible. Now let us consider the operation of the muscles that control the expression of the countenance. Their actions may be best interpreted, as intimated on page 149, by REP RE SEN TA TION THR O UGH HE A D A ND FACE. I S I comparing them with those produced by the hand-gestures. These, as made with the fist, the finger, and the palm turned away from the gesturer or towards him, all have correspondences in the adjustments of the muscles of the face, and have also corresponding meanings. It is possi- ble, for instance, by a rigid action of the muscles, to make the whole face produce the physical suggestions of a fist (see Fig. 51, page 99). Recalling that the gestures of the mouth are more particularly vital ; those of the eye, mental ; and those of the nostrils, emotive ; there certainly can be no doubt of the physical menace imparted by the firm-set teeth, and the lowering and knit eyebrows. These are sometimes accompanied by an opening mouth (Fig. 121, page 1 8 1 ), and sometimes by rigidly swelling nostrils (Fig. 122, page 181), both serving to give greater breadth of effect. They seem to give this because, while the physical and mental natures are gathering, and, as it were, girding their powers for the conflict, the emotive nature is still wide open to the influences from without, and drawing into the soul every draft of insult like the FIG. 121. -RAGE AND FEAR. Seepages 179, 181, 184, 186, 189. FIG. 122.— CONTEMPTUOUS RAGE. See pages 175, 176, 178,181, 182, 183, 186, 189. I 82 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. breath on which it is freighted, to help fan the flame of indignation. It is possible, again, to give to the face the more subtly mental effect of a finger gesture. Notice the puckering of the lips, as if pointing to an object, when one is uttering the expression, “ whew ! ” and the vertical wrinkling of the fore- head between the eyebrows, together with the contracting of the nose, when thought is concentrated, in order to point, as it were, to some single ob- ject of consideration (Figs. 123, page 182; 64, page 1 17). Once more, as when using the hands, it is pos- sible, either with or with- out the aid of the facial movements just mention- ed, to produce motive or emotive effects correspond- ing to those represented by what has been termed the closing gesture, made with the palm turned away from the gesturer, as also fig. 123 .— reflection. by w hat has been termed Upper Part of Orbicularis Palpebrarum Muscle. Seepages 182, 184, 185, 186, rSS. the °P em ng gesture, made with the palm not turned thus. There is no doubt, for instance, that the emphatic closing of the mouth, which is the organ of speech repre- senting the most physical or material effects of thought, indicates a closing of the channels of influence (see Figs. 122, page 1 8 1 , 123, page 182, and 51, page 99). It means that the man does not propose to let his opinions, his mo- tives, or his emotive condition be easily changed by any REPRESENTA TION THRO UGH HEAD AND FA CE. I 83 consideration presented from without. Nor is it uppermost in his mind to endeavor to change these conditions in others. He is simply emphasizing, in a determined way, his own mood and impressions. When the mouth is not only closed, but drawn down at the sides, then it indicates rejection and displeasure, a more decided closing of the channels of sympathy (Figs. 124, page 183, and 122, page 1 8 1 ). Combined with more contraction of the muscles, it indicates still more dis- pleasure, or discontent, and like the doubling up of the fist, as has been said, a determination to change physical conditions (Fig. 51, page 99). The open- ing of the mouth, on the contrary, indicates the opening of the channel of influence, and, therefore, that a man is ready both to receive and to impart (see Figs. 125, page 184, to 129, page 186). If the lips expand also at the sides, as in the smile, they indicate an opening of the channels of influence to that which is pleasant and welcome in one’s surroundings (Figs. 127, page 185, and 52, page 100). But in the degree in which the sides are drawn together and, as usually in such cases, downward, they indicate that which is conceived to be grave and serious (Fig. 126, page 184), if not scornful (Fig. 124, page 183) and threatening (Fig. FIQ. 124— CONTEMPT AND DISCONTENT. Triangular Muscle of the Lips. See pages 121, 183, 185, 188. 1 84 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. 51, page 99). When not only the lips, but the whole mouth is slightly open, this indicates great interest either as applied to what is pleasing (Figs. 125, page 184, 127, page 185, and 52, page 100) or alarming (Figs. 126, page 184, 128, page 186, 129, page 186). Notice also the alarm combined with rage in Fig. 121, page 181. Thus the opening mouth seems to indicate that the man is drinking in whatever is seen or heard. When, in addition to this, the lips seem brought forward, as when uttering “ whew ! ” which is usually accompanied by that wrinkling of the fore- head between the eyebrows noticed in Fig. 123, page 182, thought is pointing, as has just been intimated, to what excites wonder and amazement. Add to this a rigid effect of the muscles, but without that closing of the mouth which indicates a purpose and power to resist the influence from without, and, if the lips be opened mainly at their centres, we have so far as the mouth alone can indicate it, apprehension (Fig. 126, page 184); if they be drawn downward at the sides, we have crying (Fig. 128, FIG. 125.— CURIOSITY. See pages 183. 184, 187, FIG. 126.— APPREHENSIVE GRIEF. See pages 173, 183, 184. REP RE SEN TA TION THR O UGH HEAD A ND FACE. 1 8 5 page 186); if accompanied by a contraction of the sides, we have despair or terror (Figs. 1 13, page 176; 129, page 186; 132, page 188); and if they be opened at both the centres and sides, as if physical will-power in the lips were paralyzed, we have horror or the like (Figs. 133, page 1 88 ; 1 19, page 179). Turning now to the parts of the face less closely con- nected with the material manifestations of thought in speech, there can be no doubt that bringing the eyebrows nearer together as in Figs. 123, page 182; 124, page 183; 127, page 185 ; and 131, page 187, indicates like the finger gesture a concentration of thought upon some par- ticular subject or person. It is equally clear that the lowering of the eyebrows, as in Fig. 123, page 182, and 1 12, page 176, indi- cates, like the closing ges- ture, a closing of the chan- nel of influence. The man does not intend to receive or accept what he hears without serious question ; and, possibly, he deliberately intends to reject and oppose it, as in Figs. 51, page 99, and 1 1 5 , page 177. When the brows are both knit together and lowered, they may, in connection with swelling nostrils and compressed lips, produce, as has been said, the effect of the fist gesture, as in Fig. 51, page 99. The lifting of the eyebrows, Fia 127.— LAUGHTER AND GAYETY. Great Zygomatic Muscles. See pages 121, 183, 184, 185, 187. lS6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. which lias the effect of opening the space about the eyes, always, like the opening gesture, indicates acceptance or communication, sometimes willing, as in the expression of surprise (Fig. 130, page 187); and sometimes unwill- ing, as in that of sorrowful solicitude (Fig. 1 31, page 187), where the knit brows accompanying the opening move- ment show that the matter demands serious concentration of thought. When, in connection with this, the muscles and eyes assume a rigid, staring appearance, as if exerting in vain all effort to shut out the impending trouble, we have the expressions of enforced acceptance, solicitude, and hostility combined which in various degrees indicate fright, horror, rage, and fury, as in Figs. 132, page 188; 133, page 188; 121, page 181 ; and 122, page 181. The eyes, considered by themselves, also have corre- sponding effects. Slightly closed, they indicate a critical mood, which is unwilling or, at least, hesitates either to receive or to impart (Figs. 102, page 1 7 1 ; 107, page 174; 123, page 182). Wholly closed, as in contrition and grief, they denote a positive wish to do neither (Fig. 80, page 1 39 ; FIG. 128.— DISAPPOINTED DESIRE. See pages 174, 175, 179, 183, 184. FIG. 129.— TERROR. See pages 173, 183, 184, 185, 188. REPRESENTATION THROUGH HEAD AND FACE. I 87 Fig. 108, page 174). In their normal open condition, with the lids slightly falling and the brows unwrinkled, they indicate an open mind (Fig. 59, page 109). Expanded slightly by wrinkles at the sides and underneath, they indicate a welcome to that which is pleasant in the sur- roundings (Fig. 127, page 185). Expanded slightly up- ward, with the lids and brows both lifting, they indicate FIG. 130. ATTENTION AND ASTONISHMENT : TRACTION OF FRONTAL MUSCLES. FIG. 131. SORROW : Superciliary Muscle. See pages 186, 187. See pages 185, 186, 188. a welcome, either free or enforced, to that which is im- portant, the vertical direction here as elsewhere being the motive or moral one (Figs. 104, page 172 ; 118, page 178 ; 125, page 184). When this expansion becomes more marked above the eyebrows, and the muscles causing it become more rigid, expectancy, surprise, amazement be- gin to be expressed (Fig. 130, page 187). In the last effect I 88 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. there begins to be much wrinkling of the forehead above the eyes. When, in addition to this, there comes to be a contraction of the forehead, bringing the brows nearer together, the idea of concentrating thought upon the cause of amazement, which is now considered serious, is intro- duced, and we have fright (Fig. 132, page 188, or horror, Fig- 133, page 188). When there is added to the opening effect the lowering of the brows at the temples, there comes to be a suggestion of solicitude, as already ex- plained (Fig. 13 1, page 187). When there is an opening, a contracting, and a lowering effect, all three together, then there is evidence of fright combined with prolonged solicitude — that is, of terror (Fig. 129, page 186). The drawing down of the muscles about the nostrils is necessarily connected with the effect which is called the “ drawing up ” of the nose. Like the finger-gesture, it always points, sometimes merely in an interested way, as in Fig. 123, page 182 ; but sometimes in a hostile stigma- tizing way, as in Fig. 124, page 183. In the latter case it FIG. 132.— FEAR. See pages 178, 185, 186, 188. FIG. 133.— ASTONISHED HORROR. See pages 185, 186, 188. REPRESENTA TION THRO UGH HEAD AND FA CE. I 89 indicates the emotive phase of rejection, i. e., disdain ; and is used with the closing movements of the mouth and eyes, already described, only when disdain is expressed in addition to what they express. The rigidity of the movement puts force into it (Fig. 51, page 99) ; and the expanding of the nostrils, while it takes from the effect of pointing, increases the effect of largeness and import- ance (Fig. 122, page 181). The open nostril means an open soul, and if rigidly opened it indicates, as was inti- mated when speaking of it as used in connection with the firm-set teeth, passion and rage (Fig. 121, page 181). The reader may now be interested in noticing how these various conclusions have been epitomized into lines representative of the directions assumed by the dif- ferent features of the face when giving expression to cer- tain typical sentiments. Here are the three principal figures used by the Dutch Humbert de Superville in his well known work on the “ Signes Inconditionnels de l’Art.” FIG. 134.— CALMNESS. FIG. 135.— QAYETY. FIG- 136.— SADNESS. Three Diagrams of Humbert de Superville. And on the next page are similar figures, taken from Duval’s “Artistic Anatomy.” Any movement, merely playful, that increases the ap- parent size of any of the features, like the pouting of the FIQ. 137.— REFLECTION. FIG. 138.— LAUGHTER. REPRESEN TA TIOH THROUGH THE FACE AMD HEAD. 19I lips, the staring of the eyes, or the swelling of the cheeks or nostrils, merely caricatures the effects, vital, mental, or emotive, that would be produced by these features if really as large as represented. In the countenance, as elsewhere, comic effects are produced, too, by a combina- tion of extravagance and incongruity ; the latter, for ex- ample, by having one part of the face represent one set of emotions, and another part another set, or by having the whole countenance represent emotions diametrically the opposite of those that the circumstances warrant. CHAPTER XI. REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. Correspondence between the Effects of Tone in Sounds and of Color in Scenes — Mental Effects of Different Degrees of Light — Instinctive, Re- flective, and Emotive Effects — Effects of Pitch and Quality in Color, as in Sound, very Closely Allied — Representative Effects of Different Qualities of Tone — Their Correspondences in Colors — Cold Colors and Normal or Pure Tones as Instinctive — Warm Colors and Orotund Tones as Reflective — Varied Colors as Emotive — Confirmation of these Corre- spondences from Facts of Experience — From the Use of Color in Paint- ing — Especially the Human Countenance — In Sculpture — In Architec- ture — Representation of Natural Effects of Distance through Cold and Warm Colors in Painting — In Architecture — Correspondence between the Effects of Mixed Tones and Colors — Representative Influence of Black — With Cold Colors — With Warm Colors — Of White with Cold Colors — With Warm Colors — Further Illustrations — Conclusion. | N certain circumstances, which need not now be ex- plained, color gives to paintings and to both the ex- teriors and interiors of buildings an effect which, in popular parlance, is termed tone. The fact that this term is used at all, indicates how wide is the recognition of at least some correspondence between that to which it ap- plies and an effect produced by the pitch and quality of sounds to which alone it was applied primarily. This recognition, mainly, has suggested the present chapter. We can best come to understand the significance of elements of expression by considering their significance REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 193 in extreme cases. Color is a condition attributable to light. Let us begin by asking what is represented by different degrees of light ; and, first, by its absence. Where there is no light, the mind may nevertheless be in- fluenced by sounds; and these, of course, may cause us to imagine sights ; but imagined sights are not those that we are now considering. So far as concerns possible scenes, when these are not perceived by us, they cannot, as scenes, exert any influence. Our thoughts are as little aroused to effort by them as are our bodies to activity, when compelled to grope their way in darkness. When there comes to be a little light, however, we can see forms but not colors, or these only as they seem to be very dim and dark. In this condition the mind is not greatly in- terested in objects nor aroused to thought by them. For now it sees too few of them, and the few that it does see, it sees too indistinctly. But let the light increase, and in the degree in which it does so outlines become more marked and colors more bright ; while the mind perceiv- ing a larger number and variety of objects comes to have a larger number and variety of definite thoughts concern- ing them. These self-evident facts will enable us to analyze the effects of color in accordance with the principles unfolded on page 19. It will be noticed that, from what has just been said, the deduction is inevitable that the mind’s study of objects and understanding of them are necessarily increased with the increase of light. Indeed, it is possible to conceive that this alone might cause all the difference between what might be termed the instinctive , because indiscriminative, views of life possessed by an animal and the discriminative or reflective results of human intelligence. But far more important, as related 1 94 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. to this subject of color, than are any instinctive or reflec- tive tendencies represented by these extremes of differ- ence, is the emotive tendency represented by the dif- ferent degrees between these extremes, where both exist in combination. When the light is slight, the thought awakened by objects is not only, as a rule, slight in quan- tity, but what there is of it is not usually pleasant in quality. The doubtful delineation of the outlines is apt to perplex and annoy the mind, if not, as is sometimes the case, to alarm it by a sense of insecurity. This is to say that the appearances of nature, when, owing to cir- cumstances, they seem robed either in no distinguishable colors or in very dark ones, are not, as a rul satisfactory , interesting , cheering, or inspiring ; but that sometimes they cause depression and even solicitude. With more light, however, the outlines and colors become more visible, bright and varied, and not only the satisfaction but the excitation derivable from them is increased. These effects continue to be enhanced up to the time, if it ever arrive, when the colors are no longer distinguishable, because the light has become too dazzling. But at this point the disagreeableness of the effect is produced, not because attention is aroused too slightly, but too greatly, as, for instance, by the direct rays of the sun or by a flash of lightning. In all cases, however, even in these latter two, notice the additional excitation to the emotions produced by variety. Sunlight or lightning is never so vivid as when made to contrast sharply with absolute darkness, as in a cave or a cloud. Nor is a bright red or yellow ever so effective as when placed directly against a dull blue-green or indigo. We may say, therefore, that, as a rule, dark colors or shades of them which result when the colors, as determined by the spectrum, are dimly REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OP COLOR. 1 95 illumined, as also unvarying colors, are less exciting to the emotions than are bright and varied ones. Before illustrating these statements by referring to the actual use of colors in nature and in art, let us look at the general subject from another point of view. A considera- tion of the amount of light illumining a color cannot well be separated from a consideration of the character and mixture of the light constituting the color. Indeed, as shown in Chapters XII. to XV. of the essay on “ Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music,” the same statement might be made with reference to the consideration of pitch and of quality in sound to which these two effects in sight are analogous. Just as the quality of sound is determined by the pitch of the different partial tones of which a note is compounded, so the quality of a color is determined by the hues which result from the different partial effects of light of which the rays producing it are com- pounded. For instance, when, in a screen shutting out the light from a darkened room, we make a narrow slit, and through this allow the light to enter, and receiving this light on a prism separate one ray of the light into various partial rays of the same, all the colors of the spec- trum will appear on a white wall opposite the window. But the red color will appear nearest the place on which the white light would have fallen, had we used no prism, and, farther and farther from this place, will appear respectively, in this order, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. For this reason, the first three of these col- ors are supposed to be most nearly allied to light as well as, according to some, to the fire and heat which we naturally associate with the sources of light. Red, orange, and yellow, and their allied colors, are therefore termed bright or warm ; and green, blue, and purple, dark or cold. 196 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE . The very fact of the use of these terms shows the close connection between the influence of light and darkness upon the amount of color, as indicated on page 194, and its influence upon the kind of color; and why, therefore, it is better, as has been suggested, to consider the two together. As preparatory to doing this intelligently, let us observe a few more analogies between the effects of quality in tone and in color. Quality in tone, as stated in Chapter XI. of “ Poetry as a Representative Art,” as also in Chapter VI. of “ Music as a Representative Art,” is particularly expressive of the feelings. Of the different kinds of quality that known as the pure or normal — the tone of ordinary utterance — is best represented by the short vowels in poetry, and by the flute in music. The orotund tone — that of agreeably exhilarated utterance — is best repre- sented by the long vowels and tonic consonants in poetry and by the horns in music. The aspirate tone or whisper, indicative of secrecy either of sympathy or alarm, — a tone used generally in connection with other tones to augment the feeling expressed in them — is best represented by the aspirate consonants in poetry and by the violins in music. The hollow pectoral tone indicating horror is best repre- sented by the round vowels together with strongly aspir- ated or atonic consonants in poetry, and by the larger and lower wind instruments in music; and the guttural tone in- dicating hostility is best represented by the consonants approaching the g-sounds in poetry and by the sharper metallic sounds in connection with the cymbals and drums in music. The normal and orotund tones are musical and pure ; the aspirate, in itself considered, is mainly an ab- sence of tone ; and the pectoral and guttural are unmusical and impure in the sense of being mixed. They are always very largely mixed, too, with the aspirate. For furthei REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 1 97 description of these tones see “ The Orator’s Manual,” pp. 94-105. The significance represented by these tones, as used in elocution, is indisputable. Reference is made to them here for the purpose not merely of showing the unity of method in different parts of this system, but also for the purpose of accomplishing that for which this unity of method is intended to be serviceable. In this place, it will serve to aid us in determining the significance of pure and of mixed colors. The correspondence seems exact be- tween the influence of normal tone and of the cold colors - ; the influence of the orotund tone and of the warm colors ; the influence of the pleasurable aspirate and of white ; and the influence of the solicitous aspirate and of black. The correspondence is less exact, but still sufficiently so for our purpose, between the pectoral tone and the cold colors used in combination with black, and between the guttural tone and the warm colors used in combination with black. We will take up, first, the distinction between the pure tone, i. e., between the distinctively pure or normal tone, and the orotund. In elocution, the former is not neces- sarily a cultivated tone, but the latter, the orotund, is. The former therefore suggests the natural, and the latter the artistic. Is not the same true with reference to the classes of color to which these have been said to corre- spond ? Just as the normal or pure tone is that of ordi- nary natural intercourse, are not the cold colors, the greens, blues and purples, those of ordinary natural life ? Is it not true that for nine-tenths of all the time, nine- tenths of all the surfaces of the globe, — i. e., the lakes, skies, hills, forests, fields, rocks, distant and near, — are robed in these colors ? The warmer colors, the reds, oranges, and 198 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. yellows, appear occasionally in nature in the sunset sky, the autumn foliage, the hues of flowers, the plumage of birds, and the coating of animals ; but it is remarkable how seldom they appear at all, how little surface, com- paratively, they cover when they do appear, how infre- quently they appear in their full intensity, and how, universally, when they do appear in this, they are con- sidered exceptional and worthy of remark. They certainly are not nature’s normal colors. Man cannot dye a'nything bluer or greener than he can often see in the sea and sky and forest ; but nowhere in the world can he raise a red or orange flag that will not instantly be recognized as something different from anything in nature, and, there- fore, as something that is signalling the presence of man. Hence the use of these colors, especially of red, by sur- veying parties, and on railways, piers, and battle-fields. Such colors are the ones that are most suggestive of human interference. As used in art, therefore, they are the colors representing the condition upon which the thought of the artist has had the greatest influence, or, according to the phraseology that we have been using, the colors which most naturally give expression to the mental or reflective tendencies. The colors at the other end of the spectrum, the greens, blues, purples, being less suggestive that the elements of form have been changed from the state in which they are found in nature, are, of course, the ones that most naturally give expression to the physical or instinctive tendencies. With these facts, however, we need also to bear in mind that which is a logical inference from what was said on page 194, namely, that all very low and uniform shades even if of yellows, oranges, and reds, — have a quieting effect, and all very high and — because contrasts emphasize REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 1 99 one another, and most contrasts of cold colors are warm 1 — all contrasting tints, even if of purples, blues, and greens, have an exciting effect. To compare these conditions again with those of pitch in elocution and music, this, if low and monotonous, indicates what is serious , grave , dignified, and self-controlled , and, if high and varied, the opposite. Does it require an argument to show how per- fectly these analogies are carried out as applied to colors? Do we not all recognize the more exciting and exhilarating effects of these when full of brightness and contrast ? Who has not noticed the difference in influence between a lawn and a flower-bed ? or between a room decorated with ever- greens and the same decorated with chrysanthemums? or between a uniformly clouded gray sky, and a sky lighted up with the diversified glories of the sun- set? or between the dulness and monotony of a business street when the shop-entrances are hung with dingy clothing for sale, or the sidewalks filled with peo- ple in dark business suits, and the same streets when hung with bright and varied flags on a gala day, or crowded with throngs decked out in the gay and check- ered trappings of a carnival or holiday parade? Of course, uniformity of color, like uniformity of outlines — as in parallelism — produces a certain seriousness and dig- nity of effect ; and any procession, the members of which are dressed alike and march alike, will produce something of this irrespective of the quality of the coloring. But there is a vast difference between the degree of serious- ness and dignity in the effect of a procession of priests and nuns robed in black or gray in a funeral or at church, and in that of militia uniformed in bright colors on a holiday or in a theatre. Seeing the funeral, it is impossible to conceive that any child, or a crowd of any * Green-yellow of purple, red-orange of blue, and purple-red of green. 200 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE . kind, should require explanations, aside from those sug- gested by color alone, to keep them from growing wild with enthusiasm or being excited to cheers. In the thea- tre, this would be their most natural mode of expression. Notice, too, how much more the children’s eyes dilate to welcome the regiment of soldiers clad in red and yellow, than the one arrayed in blue or gray. The latter colors may be the best for the ordinary manoeuvres of the bat- tle-field, more easily hidden by the smoke, more decep- tive in a question of distance. But in a charge, even upon an experienced veteran, the regiment clad in flaming red will be far more difficult to withstand. There is phi- losophy as well as fancy, therefore, that underlies the use of this in the costumes of the British regulars and of the French zouaves. Nothing having to do with color can compare with it in effect. These facts have been ex- plained according to the principle of association. It is said that red is the color of blood and fire, and suggests them. But does it suggest them to the bull and other animals whom it excites to fury? In these cases does it not act physically ? Physicists agree that there is no color that agitates the optic nerve so violently. There seem to be, therefore, just as in the case of outlines, principles both of association and of nature which cause certain kinds of colors and, to a less degree, all colors, when at their brightest, to be representative of emotive excita- tion, and certain other kinds of colors, and, to a less de- gree, all colors in their lower tones, to be representative of the opposite. All the great facts of nature are felt long before they are formulated. When the man born blind expressed his conception of the color red by saying that it was like the sound of a trumpet, he uttered not a poetic but a literal REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OP COLOR. 201 truth. Just as red is the color that is farthest removed from the ordinary colors of nature, the blast of the trum- pet is the sound that is farthest removed from the ordi- nary sounds of nature. All pastoral symphonies abound in passages executed by the flutes and clarionets, and the violins and other stringed instruments. With the music produced by these, it seems natural to associate the sounds produced by the rustling and whistling of the wind, the rushing and dashing of the waters, and the occasional piping of a bird and the lowing of an animal. The drum and cymbal, too, may remind one of the exceptional thun- der of the storm, or the roll of the earthquake. But when the flutes and stringed instruments give way to the trumpet and allied instruments, then we feel that man is asserting his influence in the scene, and we listen, almost instinctively, for the sound of his tramping feet. It is only man that marches. It is only man that wages war, and it is only in martial music and in the expression of the passion of conflict and the pride of triumph that the blasts of the trumpet, announcing, as they do, more distinctively than do any other musical sounds, the power and presence of the human being, realize to the full their representative mission. No wonder that even a blind man, at the end of the play, just as the curtain drops on the victorious conquerors, should be able to imagine how there should be an aesthetic connection between the bril- liant climax that is heard and the brilliant colors in the costumes and flags which are described to him as sur- rounding the conquerors, and waving above them. The same principles must apply, of course, to the sig- nificance of color as used in painting and architecture. In the ordinary portraits of great men, in such paintings as Raphael’s “ School of Athens,” Fig. 1 56, page 249, in which 202 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , .4 A 7 /) ARCHITECTURE. we find grouped together the celebrated characters of many periods, or in a representation of solemnities like that in Jules Breton’s “ First Communion,” the serious- ness and dignity of the subjects are such that we do not feel the need in the pigments of much brightness or contrast. But whenever anything is intended primarily to produce a powerful impression, it is best portrayed in this way. Hence one reason why Rubens with his high and varied coloring is so transcendently great in such representations of profound excitement as in the “Lion Hunt” or in “The Crucifixion ” which is in the gallery at Antwerp, or in the “ Descent from the Cross,” Fig. 163, page 277, and is so transcendently gross in sub- jects of a lighter character, as in many of those in the Old Pinakothek at Munich. But there is also another reason for this fact, and in connection with it, there is another confirmation of the general truth of the statements just made. It may be recognized by noticing the effects produced by colors upon pictures of the human countenance. So far as this latter is more than a mass of lifeless flesh, so far as it is something fitted to be transfused and transfigured by the seriousness of intelligence and the dignity of spirituality, is there any doubt that it should be represented in colors neither very brilliant nor greatly varied? May there not be a sense in which it is a literal fact that the blue veins of the aristocrat are far more suggestive of sentiment and soul behind them, not only than the bloated flush of the inebriate, but even than the ruddy hues of the peas- ant ? Compare even the “Beggar Boys of Murillo, or his ordinary women, with the flaming flesh blistering on the limbs of Rubens’ denuded females. Not alone the angular curves that often form the outlines of these latter, REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 203 but the coloring, too, causes all the difference in delicacy, refinement, and tenderness of sentiment between them and the former, that we should naturally expect to find between a friar’s madonna and a farmer’s mistress. So, too, in sculpture. Is it not universally recognized that statues of dark gray, blue, or black marble, granite, or bronze, as in the case of some of the Egyptian remains, (Fig. 147, page 221,) while fitted for subjects presented in proportions sufficiently large to secure great seriousness and dignity of effect, are less appropriate than statues of white marble for subjects of the same general character when presented in the proportions of life? And is it not equally true that subjects of a lighter character and smaller size are far more appropriately represented in the warmer colored bronzes ? In architecture, outline has usually more to do with effects than has color. Yet here, too, few fail to recognize the influence of the latter. Who can be insensible to the congruity between the seriousness, gravity, and dignity of effect produced by dark shades of gray or even by white, as they loom before us in the outlines of the cathedral, as in Figs. 144, page 205, and 3, page 24, or of the large pub- lic edifice, as in Fig. 203, page 365, or in the capitol at Washington ? But who finds it agreeable to have the same conceptions associated with buildings designed for domestic purposes? Observe how cold, as we very appro- priately say, and therefore how devoid of that which is homelike and inviting, is the impression produced by the blue-gray or white of a mansion, like the one occupied by the Manhattan Club of New York, as contrasted with the appearance of a house constructed of material in which there is a more liberal admixture of the warm hues, as in stone or brick of a yellow, orange, red, or brown tint. This 204 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. is true as applied even to very dark brown. Compare with the mansion just mentioned the twin houses of the Van- derbilts, on the same avenue. And what of the warm colors when used with contrasts ? Is there any one who is not conscious of the joyous, gay, and exhilarating sug- gestions imparted by the bright and varied tints that in- vite one to the pavilion of the park or the veranda of the seaside cottage? The same principle, of course, is exem- plified in interiors. Cold colors on the walls, an exclusive use of blue, or green, or even of white will always affect the sensitive like the clouds of a lowery day, while the warmer colors, used either wholly or in part, will corre- spondingly enliven them. No one can deny the impres- siveness of the gray of the stone arches that bend over the “ dim religious light ” of the church. But even the effect of this needs to be counteracted by warm colors in the chancel ; and it would be wholly out of place in a theatre. The difference between the interior of the Cathedral of New York and of the Metropolitan Opera House, though largely one of form, is still more largely one of color. Some years ago the directors of the Academy of Music in Philadelphia had the building refitted. The walls were covered with paper in which blue predominated. The effect was manifestly so disastrous to the complexion of the audience and the cheerfulness of their spirits, that, during the twenty-four hours subsequent to the first night of its reopening, the entire room was papered again, this time more appropriately. Fortunately, all are not sensi- tive to color, and few of those who are, are able to assign the right reason to the causes of their sensations. All the same, it behooves those who know that certain persons with certain temperaments are thus affected, to avoid, for their sakes, any violations of those conditions which, as a rule, conduce to cheerfulness and comfort. HQ. 144.— WELLS CATHEDRAL, ENGLAND. See pages 203, 3S0, 405. 20 6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ^A’Z> ARCHITECTURE. There is another effect of these cold, as contrasted with warm colors, which, perhaps, should be mentioned here, though, for another reason, it belongs to the subject to be treated in Chapter XVI. Owing to the degree of light that is necessary for the production of the warmer colors, it is only when objects are near at hand and therefore are in very strong light that we perceive these colors at all. At a distance, as exemplified in the blue of mountain ranges, everything is robed in the cold colors. For this reason, it is held that, in painting, the warm colors, with their compounds and admixtures, have the effect of caus- ing objects to seem to be at the front of a picture, and the cold colors of making them seem to be at the rear. We know that in linear perspective the farther off objects are the smaller they appear. In aerial perspective, the farther off they are the more dim, or blue, or purple, or gray they appear (see Fig. 1 68, page 297). A careful regard of this rule may sometimes enable the painter not only of land- scapes but also of figures to produce very striking effects. An illustration of this has been noticed in “ The Scourging of Christ” by Titian, the greatest of the older colorists, in which a figure necessarily placed in front of our Lord, is painted with gray armor in order not to distract attention from the Christ himself, who, though in the rear of this, is thrust into prominence by the red coloring of his robe. A similar effect, in fact, is a result wherever this color is introduced. As applied to architecture, it is evident that, aside from the effects of form, which in certain cases may entirely counterbalance those of color, the colder the color, the more massive, as a rule, will appear not only the building itself but also the grounds about it ; the effect of the cold color being to make the house and its parts seem at a REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OP COLOR. 20 / greater distance from the observer, and, therefore, greater in size than it would be at the supposed distance. Hence, another reason for using cold colors in grand buildings. The same principle applies to the painting and the pa- pering of an interior. The warm colors cause an apart- ment to seem smaller and more cozy, and the cold colors exactly the opposite. The latter on the walls, therefore, not only for the reason suggested on page 204, but be- cause of these uncozy effects, are objectionable. But for ceilings, especially of public halls and churches, blue at least is rightly popular. Thus used it suggests largeness and elevation, as in the sky which it seems to resem- ble ; and it also furnishes, as a rule, an agreeable contrast to the warmer colors appropriate for the walls and floors. Now let us consider the mixed as distinguished from the pure colors. Going back, for a moment, to mixed tones, the first of them that was mentioned was the aspirate. This, as was said, is a whisper, and its characteristic is an absence of any tone whatever. Of course, that which, in the realm of color, corresponds to an absence of tone must be, according to its degree of intensity, black or white, or else some gray quality formed by mixing the two. The whisper, in its forcible form, the analogue of which, in the realm of sight, would be black, indicates apprehension, as in fright ; and in its weaker form, the analogue of which, in the realm of sight, would be white, indicates interest, as in the secrecy of a love-scene. In both forms the whisper adds feeling to the tone, which, as a rule, is usually uttered, if not simultaneously with it, at least before or after it. This tone, of course, considered irrespective of the whisper that is joined with it, must re- semble either the normal or the orotund. If it resemble the normal, the forcible whisper causes it to have that pas- 2C>S PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. sive effect of apprehension characterizing the expressions of aive and horror represented in the mixed quality which is termed pectoral. If the tone resemble the orotund, the forcible whisper causes it to have that active effect of apprehension characterizing the expression of hostility represented in the mixed quality which is termed gutteral. In the realm of sight, nothing could be perceived if everything were absolutely black. Black, therefore, as well as white, must always be blended with other shades. When blended thus, the effect of being side by side is much the same as of actual mixture. At a slight dis- tance, we cannot tell whether the appearance is owing to the latter or merely to the fact that two shades happen to be near together. Now bearing this in mind we may say that the effect of black, when blended with the cold colors, corresponds to that of pectoral quality, and, when blended with the warm colors, corresponds to that of guttural quality. Notice, first, the combinations of black with the cold colors. In such cases the black, of course, must be very prominent, and, merely to render the objects depicted clearly perceptible, it must be offset in some places by cold colors of comparatively light tints. But where light tints are blended with absolute black, there must be some violent contrasts. Violent contrasts of themselves, as shown on page 194, represent excitation. Excitation, however, in connection with blackness, — to go back to what was said, on page 193, of the effects of light from which we have developed those of pigmen-ts — is excita- tion in connection with more or less indistinctness caus- ing perplexity and involving apprehension. At the same time, as this apprehensive excitation is connected with REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OR COLOR. 209 the cold colors, it is passive, or, as one might say, chilling and benumbing, rather than active, or, as one might say, heating and inflaming. For this reason its effects seem appropriately compared to those of awe and horror repre- sented by the pectoral quality. Of course, color alone, without other means of expression, can only approximate a representation of these feelings ; but, given the outlines, and what hues, mixed with those of the countenance, can make it so ghastly as dark blue and green ; or can make the clouds of heaven so unheavenly as very dark blue ; or the sod of the earth so unearthly as dark blue-green ; or anything so deathlike and appalling as these colors used with excessive contrasts of light and shade ? Is it any wonder that it is with these combinations that Gustave Dore produces most of the harrowing effects in his series of pictures illustrating Dante’s “ Inferno” ? Now let us add black to yellow, orange, or red, either mixing the two or placing them side by side, and notice the effect. As said before, the very dark shades can- not, in painting, be used exclusively. If they be, the outlines cannot be made clearly perceptible. But to use black in connection with the lighter tints, introduces that variety which, as said on page 194, always increases the excitation of the effect. Warmth, in connection with black, or, as explained in the last paragraph, with apprehen- sive excitation, — emotive heat causing active resistance to that which is dreaded, — does not this describe, as nearly as anything can, a condition attendant upon hostility such as is represented to the ear by the guttural tone. In the case of the warm colors, too, still more than in that of the cold, nature seems to have enforced the meanings of the combinations so that we shall not mistake them. Yellow and black, orange and black, red and black, or, 210 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. in place of black, very dark gray, green, blue, or purple, which are allied to- black, — is there a particularly veno- mous insect or beast, or appearance of any kind, from a bee, or snake, or tiger, to the fire and smoke of a con- flagration, or the lightning and cloud of a storm, in which we do not detect some presence of these combinations? No wonder, then, that so often in former times, at least, soldiers wore them on their breasts when girded for the contests of the battle-field ! The whisper, in its weaker form, was said to represent not apprehension, but a more or less agreeable degree of interest. Of course, the weaker form of a negation of color, at its extreme, must be represented by white. As applied to tones, there is no separate term of designation for this whisper when added to normal or orotund quality. Elocutionists merely speak of an aspirated normal or oro- tund, saying that, when aspirated, feeling is added to the effect of each. Let us recall now combinations of white with blue, green, or purple. Is there any diffi- culty in recognizing how closely the result corresponds to that which is produced by an aspirated normal tone ? We have all seen such combinations in summer costumes, as well as in tents and awnings over windows or verandas. In such cases, is there not a more exhilarating effect pro- duced by them than could be produced by white alone ? or by one of these colors alone? Yet, at the same time, is not the effect far cooler, and, in this sense, less exhilara- ting, than is produced by combinations of white with red, orange, or yellow ? In these latter we have, as has been said, that which corresponds to the effect of the aspirated orotund, — the tone used in earnest advocacy or description of some- thing which is felt to be in itself of profound interest. REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 21 I Think of the combinations of white with these warmer colors. Could any language better than that just used designate their peculiar influence? What than they are more exhilarating or entrancing in the decorations of interiors, or in banners and pageants? Even were it possible, which it is not, to illustrate fully in book-form these various effects of color, there would be no great necessity for doing so. By following up the suggestions that have been made, those interested in the subject will have no difficulty in applying the principles unfolded, sufficiently, at least, to become convinced of their essential accuracy. Nor is it necessary in this place to carry the discussion further, and try to distinguish be- tween the representative possibilities of each of the cold colors — green, blue, and purple, or of the warm colors — red, orange, and yellow. Viewed in their relations to mental effects, the differences between the colors of each group, as between the shades of each color, are mainly of degree, not of kind, and depend largely upon the natural color of the objects represented or by which these are surrounded. In a general way, one might say that a dark purple-like blue would have the coldest effect, and a bright orange-like red the warmest. But, as applied to the human countenance, certain shades of green might seem the most ghastly, and, as applied to clouds, certain shades of purple. The only unvarying fact is that indi- cated by the general division into cold and warm colors. Accordingly attention has been directed here to this, and to this alone. With the representative possibilities of color, our ex- amination of the various elements of visible expression, as considered separately, has been carried as far as is necessary for the purposes of the present volume. The 212 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. suggestions of the subject, however, are almost as infinite as nature itself, and are, by no means, limited to such as are derived from the use of forms in the higher arts. This fact has been brought forcibly to the mind of the author since preparing the present treatise by a large illustrated pamphlet, entitled “ Principles and Methods in Art Education,” containing an abstract of lectures de- livered by Principal John Ward Stimson, of the New York Institute for Artist-Artisans. With a remarkable combination of analytic ability and artistic knowledge, the lecturer has endeavored to connect every possible form of line, though used merely in decorative art, with an expression of a mental conception. Whatever may be thought of some of the non-essential details of his presentation, which are elaborated with a marvellous amount of particularity and variety, there can be no question of the very great service which he has rendered to both the philosophy and practice of aesthetics. By applying, too, as he does, an absolutely correct concep- tion of the connection between beauty and significance, where the presence of the latter is the most difficult to detect, i. e., among the elements of mere conventional shapes, he has very greatly strengthened an argument for the same conception when applied to the representa- tions of man and of nature in figures and landscapes in which the necessity of significance is far more generally conceded. CHAPTER XII. THE DEVELOPMENT OF REPRESENTATION IN PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. Connection between what is to Follow and what has Preceded — How Poetry and Music are Developed from Language and Intonation — Analogous Methods as Exemplified in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture — Prehistoric Pictorial Art — Representing External Appearances not only, but Mind — Earliest Art of a Historic Period — Picture Writing — Hieroglyphic Writing — Description of — Art as Distinguished from Writing in Egypt — In Greece — Early Representation of Ideas and Later of Natural Appearances only — Symbolism of Early Christian Art and Naturalism of Later Art- — Ideas and Nature as Represented at the Renaissance and at Present — Possibility of Two Opposing Tendencies — Justification for each of them- — Yet need not Exclude each other — So far as Exclusive each is Detrimental — Practical Application of these Facts to Present Conditions — The Yellow Book — American Illustrated Magazines — Importance of the Subject. T N accordance with the plan indicated on page 14, we have now studied in detail each of the factors of appearance of which the forms of painting, sculpture, and architecture are composed, and tried to ascertain the phase of mental and natural phenomena which it can be said to represent. Of course, it follows that if these fac- tors, separately considered, are representative, they must be the same when combined with others in a completed art-form. In the remainder of this volume we have to observe in what regards this is true, looking at the sub- ject, first, as applied to painting and sculpture, and, after that, as applied to architecture. 213 2 14 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. In the volume of this series entitled “ Poetry as a Rep- resentative Art,” it was shown that the art of poetry begins when a man takes the instinctive or imitative utterances which he finds already developed, according to the methods of nature, into the forms of words and phrases, and develops further, according to the methods of art, the elements of which their forms are constructed. As a result, the thought and emotion which these ele- ments naturally represent by way of association or of comparison, continue to be represented in the art-products developed from them, but in a far more elaborate and aesthetically effective way. So, too, it was shown in the essay entitled “ Music as a Representative Art,” printed in the same volume as “ Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music,” that the art of music begins when a man takes, as a motive , a series of sounds already developed according to the methods of nature into forms of utterance coming from birds, beasts, or human lips, whether in speech or in a previously existing melody, and develops further, according to the methods of art, the elements of which these forms are constructed. As a result, the phases of thought or emotion represented in the orignal utter- ances by way of association or of comparison, continue to be represented in the art-products developed from them, but in a far more elaborate and aesthetically effective way. Precisely similar are the conditions underlying results in the arts of sight. These, too, are more elaborate and aesthetically effective developments of methods natural to jnen when expressing their internal thoughts and emo- tions through using, as they must always do, the external appearances surrounding them. Of the developments themselves there are two different phases — one appearing REPRESENTA TION IN SCULPTURE AND PAINTING. 2 I 5 in painting and sculpture, and the other in architecture. The differences between these phases and the reasons for them, are explained on pages 28 to 32 and need not be repeated here. The first phase, common to painting and sculpture, represents, as indicated on page 30 of this vol- ume, and more fully elaborated in Chapter XlX.of “ Art in Theory,” a condition of consciousness, immediately and constantly under the influence of external appearances; and for this reason a condition manifesting itself through more or less direct imitation of these. In this respect these arts are correlated to poetry. Indeed, in the sphere of sight they are scarcely more imitative, though this fact FIG. 145.— FIGURE CARVED IN THE STONE AGE. See page 216. is sometimes overlooked, than this latter art is in that of sound. A figure of a man untrue to the conditions of nature would be no more out of place in painting or sculpture than the words of a man untrue to the same would be in poetry. What has been said thus far in this chapter would seem to make it desirable to show here, could it be done, that we owe both painting and sculpture, primarily, to the efforts of men to represent in a distinct way their own thought or emotion as well as the appearances sur- rounding them. But it must be confessed that, upon first examination, such does not seem to be the case. Gabriel and Adrien De Mortillet, as illustrated in Plate XXVII. of 216 painting, sculpture, and architecture. their elaborate work, the “ Musee Prehistorique,” have shown that, back in the prehistoric time of the Madeleine period of the early stone age, men had begun to carve on bone images of the mammoth, cave-bear, reindeer, ibex, saiga, fish, horse, and human being (see Fig. 145, page 215). Such carvings are the earliest remains of art of which we know ; and, although some of them in a few museums show an animal and a human being brought together in a way suggesting a desire to represent ideas through indicating a connection between the two, the writer, for one, has seen no specimen rendering it certain that this was done for any other reason than because the material on which to carve was limited in size. We must draw the inference, therefore, that, in very early ages, a desire to imitate the sights of nature for their own sakes irrespective of definite ideas to be repre- sented through the use of them, must have existed. But although drawing this inference, notice, further, that any desire to imitate sights must have come later than one prompting men to imitate sounds ; and this for the same general reason that children of our own day learn to talk before they learn to use a pencil and draw. We may be sure that, at the time when these figures were produced, the primitive man was in the habit of communicating ideas through vocal utterances, or primitive words. If so, he had definite ideas, and he had them, too, with reference to the visible form which he copied ; and it is incon- ceivable that he should have copied this for any other reason than to represent these ideas, though not, neces- sarily, to communicate them. Notice the difference be- tween these two aims as explained in Chapter V. of “Art in Theory.” Or look at the subject in another light. The fact that these figures were copied at all, furnishes REPRESENTA TION EV PAINTING AND SCULP TURE. 2 1 7 the best possible proof that their producers were men and not apes, because animals never copy in this way. In other words, regarding forms as merely results of imita- tion, we have to acknowledge that painting and sculpture are results of effects produced by external appearances upon a mind ; and, as any effect upon a mind has to do with ideas, there is a sense in which a representation of ideas is involved in any attempt at such imitation as we find in these specimens. See “Art in Theory,” Chapter VI., entitled “Representation of Natural Appearances as Involving that of the Mind.” Moreover, besides this, although the evidences of at- tempts to connect together different figures or certain parts of the same figure so as to direct attention, in a definitely picturesque way, to the conceptions intended to be indicated, are not clearly discoverable in prehistoric periods, they are discoverable very early in historic ones. The practical uses made of pictures in the illus- trated publications of our own day except, perhaps, as applied to caricature, are by no means modern. Immedi- ately after the times in which national records were kept by means of knots made in cords of the same or of differ- ent colors, as was the case with the Peruvians and some of the tribes of Asia and Africa, rude figures began to be scratched, or stained, or carved, according to require- ments of the material, either on green leaves, whence our word leaf as applied to the page of a book ; or on bark, often of the beech, whence our word book ; or on wood, often of the papyrus, a reed growing in the marshes of the Nile, whence our word paper ; or on stone or metal, — all of which figures in their forms were what is termed ideographic, because representing ideas through a graphic or pictorial method. 2 1 8 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. “ A piece of cotton cloth is before us,” says Collier in his “ History of English Literature,” “ brilliant with crim- son and yellow and pale blue, and oblong like a modern page. It is a picture-writing of old Mexico, relating the reign and conquests of King Acamapich. Down the left border runs a broad strip of blue divided into thirteen parts by lines resembling the rounds of a ladder. This represents a reign of thirteen years. In each compart- ment a symbol expresses the story of the year. A flower denoting calamity is found in two of them. But the chief story is told by the colored forms of the centre, where we have the sovereign painted twice, as a stern- looking head, capped with a serpent-crest, with a dwarfish, white-robed body, and, separate from the shoulder, a hand grasping a couple of arrows. Before this grim war- rior, at the top of the scroll, lie a shield and a bundle of spears. Face and feet are painted a dull yellow. Before his second effigy we have four smaller heads, with closed eyes and an ominous, bloody mark upon lip and chin, de- noting the capture and beheading of four hostile chiefs. The four sacked and plundered cities are depicted by roofs falling from ruined walls ; and beside each stands a symbol representing some botanical or geographical fea- ture by which its site is characterized. Pictures of differ- ent species of trees distinguish two of the cities ; the third stands evidently by a lake, for a pan of water is drawn close to it, united by a line to mark close connec- tion.” The connecting link between this form of representing ideas and phonetic writing, whether verbal like the Chi- nese, syllabic like some of central Asia, or alphabetic like our own, is found in hieroglyphics. These were used in Egypt, and innumerable specimens of them are REPRESENTA TION in painting and sculpture. 219 still visible on the existing obelisks and tombs of that country. Notice the characters composing the inscrip- tions in Fig. 146, page 219. In these characters the forms of natural appearances abound ; and yet some strictly conventional meaning seems to be assigned to each of them. They express abstractions and qualities. To quote again from the work just mentioned : “ In the hieroglyphic writing of the Egyptians the queen bee represents loyalty ; the bull, strength ; an ostrich feather, from the even- ness of its filaments, truth or justice. The figures are often, especially in later writings, reduced to their princi- pal parts, or even to lines, the latter being the first step toward the formation of an alphabet. For instance, a combat is represented by two arms, one bearing a shield, the other a pike ; Upper and Lower Egypt are denoted by single stems topped with a blossom or a plume, repre- 220 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. senting respectively the lotus and the papyrus. The coloring of the hieroglyphics is not in imitation of nature, as is the case with the earlier picture-writing, but follows a conventional system seldom departed from. The upper part of a canopy in blue stood for the heavens, a thick waving line of the same or a greenish hue represented the sea. The sun is red with a yellow rim. Man’s flesh is red ; woman’s yellow ; . . . wooden instruments are pale orange or buff ; bronze utensils green. The effect of a hieroglyphic writing, as it strikes the eye, is very brilliant, red, yellow, and blue being the prevailing hues.” This hieroglyphic writing of Egypt assumed two forms : It was painted on papyrus and also both painted and en- graved on stone. “The wall,” says Owen Jones in his “ Handbook to the Egyptian Court of the (London) Crys- tal Palace,” “was first chiselled as smooth as possible. Lines were then ruled perpendicularly and hori- zontally with red color, forming squares all over the wall corresponding with the proportions of the figures to be drawn upon it. The subjects of the paintings and of the hieroglyphics were then drawn on the wall with a red line, most probably by the priest or chief scribe or by some inferior artist, from a document divided into similar squares. Then came the chief artist who went over every figure and hieroglyphic with a black line and a firm and steady hand, giving expression to every curve, deviating here and confirming there the former red line. The line thus traced was then followed by the sculptor. In this stage there are instances of a head or a foot having been completely sculptured, while the rest of the figure remains in outline. The next process was to paint the figure in the prescribed colors ; and in some cases the painted line deviates from the sculptured line, showing that the REPRESEN f A T 10 N IN PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 22 I painter was the more important workman, and that even in this process no possible improvement was omitted. There are other instances where a considerable deviation from the position of a leg or arm has been made. After the sculpture was finished and paint- ed, the part was recarved and the defective portion filled in with plas- ter, which, having since fallen off, furnishes us with this curious evi- dence of their practice.” It must not be supposed, how- ever, that, even in Egypt, hiero- glyphic writing and art — the one intended to com- municate directly and the other to represent indi- fig. 147.— ancient Egyptian head : British Museum. rectly — were not See pages 203, 222. clearly separated. In Fig. 146, page 219, the distinction between the two is almost as apparent as in modern times. At a very early period in Egyptian history, too, we find PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. statues of great excellence, in the production of which artists were evidently actuated by a desire to represent nature rather than thought. The face in Fig. 147, page 22 [, according to the dynasties inscribed upon it, dates back to between 1600 and 1400 B.C. Doing so, it antedates by fully three hundred years the conven- tional representation in Fig. 5, page 27, for the Piankhi there depicted did not live till toward the end of the twenty-second dynasty, somewhere between 1100 and 975 B.C, Moreover, the “ Book of the Dead,” from which Fig. 146, page 219, is taken, is said to have been begun to be written about 700 B.C. , though, as the book had existed in traditional form for centuries, the date of the origin of this illustration is uncertain. Both these latter figures, however, show how completely the desire to represent nature, as indicated in Fig. 147, page 221, became, after a time, subordinated to that of representing ideas. Indeed, in view of the fact that so many of these pictures were symbolical of religious conceptions, some have supposed that the priests must have begun to impose rules regulat- ing the appearances of the figures used. This extreme of conventionalism, however, after a time produced its natural result, and drove art to the opposite extreme. In Greece, as in every country using alphabetic characters, it was always recognized that writing was one thing and art another ; and that, while the first might accomplish its highest purpose without an accurate representation of ex- ternal forms, the second could not. But even in the earliest Greek art, the desire to symbolize ideas as well as to copy nature was still prominent. There is little essen- tial difference in method, for instance, between Fig. 5, page 27, illustrating an Egyptian design, and Fig. 6, page 27, illustrating an early Greek design, dating to between RE PRE SEN TA TION IN PA IN TING A ND SCULPT URE. 22 3 558 and 700 B.C. Through all the periods of Greek art, too, there was more or less of the same style of treatment. Those whose attention has never been directed to the fact will be surprised to notice the vast preponderance of groups, as contrasted with single figures, in the works of Phidias (490 to 430 B.C.), who represents the best period of Greek art, as, e. g., in the pediment and frieze of the Parthenon, a part of the latter of which may be seen in Fig. 148, page 223. Notice also the Laocoon, Fig. 21, page 49, which was produced probably two hundred years later by the artists of the Rhodian school.. Nor, except in comparatively late periods, did the Greeks produce FIG. 148.— FIGURES ON THE FRIEZE ON THE PARTHENON. See pages 223, 225, 2S1, 282, 396. statues with exclusive reference to form, or with no par- ticular regard for significance — statues, for instance, like the “ Venus Leaving the Bath ” (Fig. 149, page 224), the sculptor of which is unknown, or even like the Apollo Sauroctonos (Fig. 20, page 48) or Venus de’ Medici (Fig. 38, page 77), which are both supposed to be originals, or imitations from originals, by Praxiteles, who was at his prime about 360 B.C. Of large numbers of other stat- ues, too, which, at first, might seem to belong to this latter class, it must not be forgotten that, as origi- nally designed and placed, they also were members of 224 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. groups, which fact imparted to them a significance not now apparent. For instance, the Apollo Belvedere (Fig. 28, page 62) or the statue from which it and a very small ancient bronze, called from its owner the Stroganoff Apollo, are both considered to have been wholly or partly imitated, is now, by some, supposed, as suggested by a German scholar, Ludwig Preller, to have stood at the apex of the pediment of a temple at Delphi with the statue called “ Diana a la Biche ” (page 75,“ The Genesis of Art-Form ”), at one side, and that called “Athena of the Capitol ” (F‘g- 3 7 > P a g e 7 6 )> at the other side. This would be in accordance with the answer said to have been given when the Gauls ap- proached Delphi, to the question of the people whether the treasures of the temple should be re- moved. The answer was : FIQ. 149. — VENUS LEAVING THE BATH : u J y 3 C 1 f T IT1 C 3, n i II g" Capitol at Rome. . see pages 76. 223, 225,281,282. Apollo] and the White Maidens [meaning Athena and Diana] will take care of that.” Besides this, all of the Greek statues, even when not in groups, were more or less literal reproductions of others that had been in groups, or with which in some way, at least, the Greeks had come to associate conventional meanings. The complete transition REPRESENTA TION IN PAINTING AND SCULP TURE. 225 from conveying this conventional meaning to a condition in which they conveyed no meaning at all, took place only after the art had begun, in a very marked way, to de- cline. In the earlier reliefs and statues, for instance, both Bacchus and Venus were clothed, and characterized by the dignity becoming a god. A convincing proof of this is that almost all authorities — as a result, of course, of their study of these earlier representations — agree that the fourth form from the right, in Fig. 148, page 223, which is a copy of some of the figures of the gods carved on the frieze of the Parthenon at Athens, represents Bacchus, and that the third form from the right repre- sents Venus. Nor was this dignity wholly dropped when, as in the so-called Venus of Milo, the desire to portray the human form first began to assert itself so strongly as to cause the artist to drop the clothing. But, later on, Bacchus was represented as in a state of intoxication, and Venus as nothing but a well-shaped woman (Fig. 38, page 77, and Fig. 149, page 224), and sometimes even as a wan- ton. But, at this period, when it had been forgotten that there was any need of significance, in representing the gods, or of any, at least, worth considering, art was not at its best. As Wyatt says, in his “ Fine Art ” : “ The culminating point of excellence has always been found in the art at that stage of its development in which the sculp- tor has acquired his highest powers of direct imitation consistent with his retention of command over and power of adhering strictly to broad generalizations. Need I point out to you that the perfection of such a stage was found in the age of Pericles in Greece, and remains for ever written upon the surface of every fragment of the sculptor’s art which has come down to us from that illus- trious period.” 226 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. In the latest Greek and Roman art, comparatively little attention was paid to anything except the imitation of form. But after the Christian era, there came a change. Religious ideas took such possession of men that to sym- bolize these became their chief aim ; and for fully six centuries nothing was produced indicative of a careful study of the appearances of nature. About the end of the twelfth century, however, there came another change. In the Gothic cathedrals of northern Europe (see Fig. 1 50, p. 227, representing an ornamental arcade, from the chapel of the palace at Holyrood, Scotland, dating to the latter part of the thirteenth century), the forms carved in stone, which, up to that time, had been conventional (see page 388, also 390), began to give place to the literal repro- duction of leaves, flowers, and human faces ; and in Italy and Holland the forms in paintings gradually came to be more and more like those of the external world. In the great works produced by Raphael (see Fig. 39, page 79) and by the painters of his period about equal atten- tion seems to have been given to the representation of mental conceptions and of natural appearances, and from that time to the present, this may be said to have been characteristic of all the painting and sculpture of the Europeans and their descendants in our own country. It may be said, too, that the rank assigned to individual painters has usually been determined by the degrees of their success in meeting the demands of both phases of representation. The figures of Benjamin West and Julius Schnorr, for instance, are arranged more effectively than many a most spectacularly significant climax in a drama : those of Balthasar Denner and Florent Willems manifest the most scrupulous regard for the requirements of line and color. Yet because exclusive attention to either sig- REPRESENTA TION IN PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 22J nificance or form led all of them to neglect one of the two, they never can rank with artists of which this was not true — Raphael, Titian, and Rubens. It is evident, however, that the possibility of having the attention turned in one or the other of these two FIG. 150.— ORNAMENTAL ARCADE FROM THE CHAPEL OF PALACE AT HOLYROOD, SCOTLAND. See page 226. directions involves the possibility of two different practi- cal methods in art not only, but of two different theories concerning it. According to one theory the art of a pro- duct is to be judged by the degree in which the artist excels in expression, i. e., in arranging appearances so as 228 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ANT ARCHITECTURE. to suggest definite thoughts or to awaken definite emo- tions. According to the other theory, it is to be judged by the degree in which he excels in imitation, i. e., in producing an exact resemblance to the outlines and colors of nature. As shown in “ Art and Theory,” there is a way of reconciling both theories ; but human minds, as a rule, have so narrow an outlook that they can be depended upon to snatch a half-truth, if possible, and use it as a weapon against the whole truth. Whatever may have been the case in the past, an artist at the present time cannot compose upon the theory that significance is essential to the highest excellence in art without being stigmatized by certain critics as “ literary ” ; nor can he compose upon the theory that imitative skill is essential to the highest excellence without being stigmatized by cer- tain other critics as being “a mere technicist.” Of course, in some cases the use of these designations is appropriate ; and, in all cases, it is easy to trace their genesis, and find some justification for them. To inveigh against the literary tendency in this art is a perfectly natural reaction against an attempt on the part of certain English and German artists of the early part of the present century, like West and Overbeck, not only to revive religious symbolic and allegoric painting, but to do this, apparently, upon the supposition that a subject capable of being made impressive by an elaborate ex- planation, or story indicating its intention, can compensate for an indifferent style, an idea subsequently developed by the English Pre-Raphaelites and in the genre pictures of the followers of Von Schadow at Dusseldorf. On the other hand, to inveigh against exclusive attention to technique is an equally natural reaction against the exceedingly tame and unimaginative effects produced by REPRESENTA TION IN PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 229 mere imitation, such as we find in many of the French pictures. No amount of care expended upon the por- trayal of tint or texture in foliage, clothing, or flesh can FIG. 151.— THE GIRLHOOD OF THE VIRGIN MARY. ROSSETTI. See pages 230, 252, 295. satisfy the artistic ideals of certain minds. They refuse to admit that great art can ever result from any possible elaboration of small subjects. 230 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. It is important to notice, however, that, although what is said against either of these tendencies may be true, so far as it excludes the other, there is nothing to indicate any necessity of its excluding this. Indeed, an endeavor to analyze the interest awakened by almost any picture will reveal that it is necessarily related somewhat both to significance and to form. For instance, the title of “ The Girlhood of the Virgin Mary,” by Rossetti (Fig. 15 1, page 229), proves that it is intended to interest us in the subject which it is designed to represent, and, even, as indicated by the halo around the dove and the wings on the child, to symbolize. Nevertheless, that which gives the picture its main interest in the history of art, is its literal repro- duction, in the pre-Raphaelite manner, of the special details of appearance. Here, therefore, is a picture de- signed to be significant, which owes its main interest to its form. Again, who has been more lauded for drawing his inspiration directly from the appearances of nature than J. F. Millet? Yet in his picture of “A Storm” (Fig. 152, page 231) the chief interest is owing not to any- thing that the artist did see or could see in appearances about him ; but to the representation of significance sug- gested to him as possible in connection with appearances. These pictures have been chosen for illustration be- cause, in both of them, may be noticed a tendency which needs to be developed only slightly in order to reveal itself to be clearly detrimental. Owing to his concep- tions of the requirements of form, Rossetti has chosen to ignore much that has been supposed to have been learned since the Pre-Raphaelite period ; and owing to his concep- tions of the requirements of significance, Millet has chosen to ignore much that has been supposed to have been learned since the period of the early landscape artists. Asa result. FIG. 152.— A STORM. MILLET. See pages 230, 253, 259, 260, 295, 300. 232 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. for a different reason, primarily, both border upon unnatu- ralism, the one because of attention to the particularities of form, and consequent emphasis of details, which causes a suggestion of stiffness of style ; and the other because of attention to the general effects of significance, and consequent slighting of details, which causes a sug- gestion of looseness of style ; and both of them, but apparently for different reasons, have produced results suggesting those characterizing the art of China and Japan. Under these apparently different reasons, how- ever, there is a single reason. This is the failure of both painters to give equal attention to the claims of signifi- cance and of form. Rossetti tries to make his picture significant through paying attention, primarily, to the particularities of forms, but these are grouped according to a tendency so lacking in representative suggestiveness as almost to prevent them from being significant. Millet tries to make his picture a transcript of a natural storm through paying attention, primarily, to the general indi- cations of significance ; but his forms, considered aside from their groupings, show a tendency so lacking in repre- sentative imitation as almost to prevent their recalling actual appearances. It is evident, too, that if the tendency in either picture were carried a little farther, it might be- come in every sense unrepresentative, conveying a satis- factory impression neither to the mind nor to the senses. Of course, almost every reader of this book will feel inclined to say that such a result is not supposable in the art of our own time and country. But why is it not ? Notice Fig. 153, page 233. No one can deny its essential cleverness and ingenuity. Nor is it sufficiently unrepre- sentative to be refused classification among specimens of representative art. But when one hears art-critics term- . * «it P a S e 76; 83, page 144; 149, page 224; and 148, page 223. An appeal to human sympathy has often been pointed out as characterizing the statue in the Capitol at Rome, called “The Dying Gladiator,” though the best authority now considers it to be a “ Dying Galatian,” or “ Gaul,” the work of a superior school of art which flourished between 150 and 200 B.C. at Pergamum, a Greek city of Asia Minor, which, about this time, was successful in wars against the Galatians. Of this statue, Jarvis, in his “ Art Idea,” says : “ It is an incarnation of the spirit of the uni- versal brotherhood of men in their common heritage of suffering and death. A man dying by blood-drops from a stab. A simple FIG. 165.— STATUE OF TITUS, IN THE LOUVRE. ail< ^ COmmOll Subject; See page 281. yet how beautiful and suggestive the treat- ment ! . . . Criticism is absorbed in sympathy, and the fear or pain of death in the spirit’s retrospection of life and inquiring gaze into futurity. Behold a fellow being prematurely sent by a violent death to the mys- terious confines of eternity, and about to solve the com- FIQ. 166.— THE DYING GLADIATOR, CALLED ALSO A DYING GALATIAN OR GAUL. See pages 282, 283. 284 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. mon problem of life, whose evils have been to him so prolific a heritage. God aid him ! ” It may be interesting, also, to compare with the statue the thoughts and emotions suggested, by the supposition that it was a dying gladiator, to the poet Byron: I see before me the Gladiator lie ; He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low — And through his side, the last drops ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. He heard it ; but he heeded not — his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away. He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play. There was their Dacian mother — he their sire Butchered to make a Roman holiday. - — Childe Harold. Could anything be more different than the representa- tion of stillness in the statue and of movement — the shifting of thought from one thing to another — in the poem ? On page 223 it was said that many of the single statues of the Greeks, which we now possess, were originally members of groups. Some of these groups still exist en- tire. One of the most famous of them is the “ Laocoon ” (Fig. 21, page 49), the statue which suggested to the German critic Lessing the famous essay of the same SCULPTURE AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 285 name. This “ Laocoon,” according to the story, was a priest, whose sons were punished with him for a sin which he alone had committed. The writer quoted on page 282, embodying several of the salient characteristics suggested by Lessing, says of this statue : “ There is in the father’s silent appeal to heaven for his sons’ escape from an in- exorable fate, and the pitiful look of the children directed to him whose sins are thus visited upon them, a moral beauty which overpowers the sense of physical agony. We perceive the awful fate impending, and are spared the absolute rack of flesh and blood. This the artist would not give. He does not permit Laocoon to cry aloud, though one can anticipate his convulsive sighs. Hence our feelings are moved to pity and admiration by his endurance, without being disturbed by vehement action, or the sense of the beautiful and grand being marred by the writhings of bodily anguish. As a whole, the concep- tion is simple and lofty . . . we feel that a great soul is expiring in awful torment, and teaching the world a great lesson, particularly if we view the group in its sym- bolical sense of ‘sin ’ or the throttler, which Max Muller says is the original meaning, or root of its name. Spirit predominates. Idea and object are identical, and true art is attained . . . Much of the character of this group depends upon that subtle principle of repose, which dis- tinguishes the best antique art from most of modern work. Although violent and convulsive action is sug- gested by the nature of the scene, the artist has so skil- fully chosen the moment of execution, that we feel, above all else, its deep quiet . . . the victims see their doom and instinctively prepare to resist it, even though the utter inutility of resistance is manifest ; but the artist leaves us, in their joint struggle, a moral suggestion of 2S6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. hope, the angel sister of sin, to lighten the otherwise too painful impression upon the spectator; and the conscious- ness of all this is given by the skilful seizing of the exact instant in which the stillness of instinctive preparation precedes the last fearful effort of tortured nature to escape its doom.” Again, there are statues, like paintings, which are de- signed to be symbolical , allegorical , or mythological. Of these, the “ Resurrection,” Fig. 82, page 143, furnishes an example. So, including more than one form, does Fig. 22, page 50, a part of the front of the tomb of Maria Chris- tina, a daughter of Maria Theresa, and wife of Duke Albert of Saxe-Teschen. This tomb, which is in the church of the Augustines at Vienna, is one of Canova’s masterpieces. In the part of it represented in Fig. 22, a lion and an angel are weeping and keeping guard on one side of the entrance of the vault, the lion being the symbol of the royal house, and the angel the symbol of the bereaved husband ; or, as perhaps might better be said, the lion as the king of beasts symbolizing the physical, and the angel as the messenger of heaven the spiritual; and the two together the sense of loss as to both physical presence and spiritual communion. Once more, there is historical sculpture. Of course, the general character of this cannot differ greatly from that of historical painting. It is evident that a composition like that in Fig. 23, page 51, or Fig. 155, page 247, would be subject to exactly the same laws as if it were a painting. Thus far, an answer has been given to only the first question asked on page 254, to wit, whether it is possible for all appearances represented in painting and sculpture to be made significant in themselves, i. e., aside from the aid afforded by verbal explanations. But what has been THE FUNCTION OF EXPLANATIONS. 287 said has suggested also the appropriate answer to the second question, to wit, whether all explanations depend- ing upon acquaintance with the literature of a subject, are to be denied legitimate influence in securing the aesthetic effect. The answer is, that they are not. For this the following reason could be given, even if there were no other. An art-product appeals to a man as distinguished from an animal. If so, the appeal must be made to that which distinguishes him from the animal. This, of course, is his intellect, together with the character and amount of intelligence ascribable to it. But if this be so, an increase of intelligence must increase his capacity for recognizing the appeal of art. As applied to a particular art-product, an increase of his intelligence with reference to either its form or subject, must increase his capacity for enjoying it. Nor need it make any essential difference whether this intelligence be the result of his general information, or of special information with reference to the object immediately before him, such as he can derive from a guide book. A man with a knowledge of history, how- ever derived, will certainly take more interest in a paint- ing like Raphael’s “School of Athens” (Fig. 156, page 249), or Gerome’s “ Pollice Verso” (Fig. 8, page 31), than will one ignorant of history ; and a student of the Bible will take more interest than will one ignorant of it in a painting like “The Death of Ananias,” Fig. 39, page 79; “The Woman taken in Adultery,” Fig. 80, page 1 39 ; “ Judas, Peter, and John,” Fig. 92, page 150; “The Descent from the Cross,” Fig. 163, page 277; or “The Sacrifice at Lystra,” Fig. 164, page 279. The same may be said of explanations accompanying a painting or a statue as was said at the end of Chapter VII. of “ Music as a Representative Art ” of explanations 288 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. printed on a musical programme. It was there pointed out that, according to the theory advanced in Chapters X. to XV. of “ Art in Theory,” especially on page 160, the degree of beauty is often increased in the degree in which the number of effects entering into its generally complex nature is increased. This is true even though some of these effects, as in the case of forms conjured before the imagination by a verbal description, may come from a source which, considered in itself, is not aesthetic. It must not be overlooked, however, that all beauty whatever is a characteristic of form ; and that intellectual effects, like these explanations, to have an aesthetic influence, must always be presented to apprehen- sion in connection with an external form with which they can be clearly associated. For this reason, though they may add to the aesthetic interest, where it already exists, they cannot, of themselves, make up for a lack of it. To a work of art an explanation is much what canes are to walking. Well used, they may increase the gracefulness of impression conveyed by a man’s gait. But this cannot be graceful at all, unless he is able to walk without them. So a picture cannot be all that a work of art should be, unless, without one’s knowing what the explanation is designed to impart, the drawing and coloring can, in some degree, at least, attract and satisfy aesthetic interest. An explanation intended to be used as a crutch instead of a cane, cannot be too strongly condemned. But there is no greater folly than to deny that the knowledge that we may have, or that we may get, with reference to the subject of a picture, enlarging, as this must do, its associations and suggestions, can add immensely to our distinctively aesthetic enjoyment. In what consists the worth of art except in the effects that it arouses in the emotions THE FUNCTION OF EXP LAN A TIONS. 289 and, through them, conjures in the imagination? But by what is the reach of imagination determined, except by the amount of information present in the mind with reference to that by which the emotions have been in- fluenced ? When we see a party of children, we may be interested in them on account of the symmetrical outlines of their forms, or of the glow of health in their faces. But there are other considerations that may increase our interest. One is the fact that we see them doing something which their actions indicate. Another is that they are ex- pressing something which their countenances indicate ; and, still another, that they are children whom we know and love. Nor is it true that any of these latter con- siderations, which increase our interest, necessarily inter- fere with the degree of interest excited in us by their grace or beauty of form. Why should one deny that similar principles apply to the figures seen in pictures? Yet practically every art- critic denies this who fails to recognize that which may be added to them by increasing their representation of sig- nificance. Why will a man, sensible in other regards, admire so blindly painters who, however great, have not the breadth to include among their merits this form of excellence? Why will he follow them when leading him in an opposite direction, even to the extent of turning his back completely upon qualities of the importance of which the slightest thought ought to convince him? Or how can he complain if another, merely imitating in principle his own example, turn in the opposite direction even to the extent of altogether ignoring technique? Art in- volves the representation not merely of significance nor merely of form ; and those who wish to further its interests 19 290 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. cannot do so by directing the energies of the artist ex- clusively to either. The captain of a yawl tossed by ocean waves might as well urge every one on board of it to rush to one side of it or to the other, and expect to reach his landing without capsizing. CHAPTER XVI. REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES IN PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. Form Comes to be Developed for its own Sake — To Appreciate Art, we should Know the Technical Aims of the Artist — Books on the Subject — Elements of Correct Technique — Lineal Representation of Light and Shade — Of Shape and Texture — Of Distance and Perspective — “ Clas- sic ” and “ Romantic ” Lines — Distinctness and Indistinctness of Line — Laws of Perspective — Lineal Representation of Life and Movement — Reason for Apparent Lack of Accuracy — Same Principles Apply to Sculpture — Elements of Correct Coloring — Ignorance of Early Colorists — Value — Origin of the Term — Color — Representation of Light and Shade — Of Shape and Texture — Of Distance or Aerial Perspective — - Of Life and Movement — Conclusion. w HENEVER one uses a form either of sound or of sight in order through it to express thought or feeling, a natural tendency of mind causes him after a little to become interested in the form and to develop its possibilities for its own sake. As shown in Chapter V. of “Art in Theory,” it is this tendency that leads to all art; and the fact furnishes a degree of justification, though not to the extent that is sometimes urged, for the maxim that enjoins interest in “art for art’s sake,” even if by art, in this sense, be meant that merely which has to do with the representation or reproduction of form as form. The truth of this statement is especially easy to recog- nize as applied to painting and sculpture, partly because 292 PAINTING, SCULPTURE . AND ARCHITECTURE. in them it is so evidently essential to have the forms exactly imitative of those of nature, and partly because, before the imitation necessitated can be successful, it so evidently requires careful and scientific study. These considerations do not justify a lack of interest in the sig- nificance which a form may be made to express ; but they do necessitate, on the part of all who wish to understand the subject, some knowledge, if not of a painter’s tech- nique, at least of his technical aims. Only in the degree in which men have this knowledge, can they estimate a painting from an artist’s point of view, or have a right to an opinion concerning its workmanship. Fortunately, this very apparent fact has been fully recognized. Not to speak of foreign works on the subject, like Charles Blanc’s “ Grammar of Painting and Engraving,” able books have been produced in our own country, exactly fitted to supply the information needed particularly by ourselves. Chief among them are Dr. John C. Van Dyke’s “ How to Judge of a Picture” and “Art for Art’s Sake.” It is difficult to conceive how any one could make a more thorough and discriminating study of painting from the view-point of the leading modern artists — though, of course, some of them would differ from him — than has been done by this author ; and certainly no one has ever succeeded in giving so clear and on the whole so absolutely trustworthy an expression to the results of such study. Mr. George W. Sheldon, too, has thrown an immense amount of light on the same subject in his exceedingly interesting and im- portant series of what might be termed “ edited inter- views ” with painters, published in his volumes entitled “American Painters,” “ Hours with Art and Artists,” and “ Recent Ideals in American Art.” Indeed, to attempt here anything intended in any sense to be a substitute for KEPRESENTA TION OF MA FERIAL APPEARANCES. 293 But as our general these works would be superfluous, plan renders some reference to the subject essential, it is hoped that, by way of arrange- ment or comment, if of nothing else,, even those familiar with the general principles involved may not find this chapter wholly un- suggestive. As has been no- ticed, there are many characteris- tics of visible form. The more import- ant of these, by grouping together in four cases two factors that are clearly allied, may be considered un- der the heads of light and shade , shape and texture , distance and per- spective , and life and movement. These four doubled re- quirements of painting, and, in some cases, of sculpture, FIG. 167.— TREATMENT OF DESIGN IN RELIEF. W. CRANE. See pages 44, 46, 294, 307. 294 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. we shall consider as influencing first the use of lines, as in drawing or carving ; and, second, the use of color. With reference to light and shade as influencing the use of lines, it is chiefly important to notice that, in very bright light objects are more distinct than in dim light, first, because we see them more clearly ; and second, because we see them in contrast to shadows which are immediately beside or behind them ; and in the brightest light, as in brilliant sunshine, the shadows are always com- paratively the darkest. Notice the two illustrations at the right of Fig. 168, page 297. Of course the representa- tion, whether by pencil or brush, of outlines supposed to be illuminated by different degrees of light, must corre- spond to these /acts. Closely connected with the representation of light and shade as produced by drawing, is that of shape and texture. It is chiefly through the play upon surfaces of the former two that we are able to tell whether an object as a whole is flat or round, or whether its surface is rough or smooth. Notice these facts as exemplified in the drawings of objects in Fig. 167, page 293 ; also in Fig. 16, page 41. The third effects to be represented are distance and perspective. To begin with, remote objects are always in light that is comparatively dim ; and, for this reason alone, it follows from what has been said already that their outlines are indistinct (see Fig. 168, page 297). But it took the world many years to recognize this. Some artists apparently have not recognized it yet. There is still a controversy, the results of which can be seen in every large gallery of modern paintings between the advocates of what is termed the “ classic ” or “academic ” line, and the “ romantic,” “picturesque,” or “naturalis- tic.” The former is a firm, clear line such as appears in REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 2g5 the paintings of Gerome (Fig. 8, page 31), Bougereau, and Cabanel. The other is a misty, indistinct line, such as appears in certain works of Millet and Corot. Notice especially the left leg of the man in Fig. 169, page 299. The classic line is necessarily the primitive one, the first impulse of any draftsman being to separate an object distinctly from other objects. As we should expect, therefore, this kind of line characterizes most of the pic- tures that have come to us from the ancients, as well as the rude sketches of the school-boys of our own time. But in the drawings of the great masters, say Titian, Cor- reggio, and Rembrandt, there is a constant tendency in the other direction. Only in modern times, however, have the two tendencies developed into antagonistic schools, — the extreme advocates of the one, though they are not all called Pre-Raphaelites, showing a tendency, nevertheless, to claim, as the modern painters who founded this school were accused of doing (see Fjg. 15 I, page 229), that in a painting every leaf on a tree, every spear in a grass-plot, every hair on a head, should be dis- tinctly and separately outlined ; and the advocates of the other school showing a tendency to claim that in no case should any of these be so outlined, partly because they are not so perceived in nature, and partly because, even if so perceived, they should not be so delineated in art, the object of which is to represent not specific, but gen- eral effects (see Fig. 152, page 231 ; also 169, page 299). It seems as if, in this case, as usual, the extremists on both sides somewhat exaggerate the partial truth that they are trying to emphasize. Objects in very bright light and near at hand can be, and, if one would repre- sent nature faithfully, should be delineated with well defined outlines. On the contrary, objects that are in 296 painting, sculpture, and architecture. dim light, as in the twilight landscapes of Corot, or ob- jects which are remote from the observer, can be and should be delineated with indistinct outlines. Notice these conditions as indicated in Fig. 1 68, page 297, taken from “ The Principles and Methods of Art-Education,” of Principal John Ward Stimson. It is a fact that, a few hundred feet away, we recognize men, horses, and sheep less by distinguishing accurately their outlines than by observing their relative shapes, sizes, and colors ; and that, at the same distance, the leaves of trees blend in a general mass of foliage. But this is no reason why the same ob- jects, if represented as near at hand, or, possibly, as seen th rough an eye-glass, should not be delineated with out- lines of an opposite character. To neglect to give them these is to base art-work upon theory rather than observation, as well as to suggest that the advocate of the “ classic ” line speaks the truth when he assorts that his opponents decry distinctness chiefly because they do not care to give distinct emphasis to the fact that they themselves are unskilful draftsmen. Cer- tainly, no one can doubt that an age of the paintings of impressionists, in which mere patches of color would be considered all that was requisite in order to enable the imagination to construct its own contours for objects, would be an age in which drawing would become a lost art. Here, as elsewhere, the truth seems to lie between the extremes. And does not the salvation of art as of life depend upon its fidelity to truth ? But there is another effect which distance has upon the line. This appears in connection with what are called “ the laws of perspective.” If we look down a long street, the roadway or sidewalks of which are of uniform width, and the buildings along which are of uniform FIG. 168.— EFFECTS OF DISTANCE ON MAGNITUDE, LIGHT, CONTRAST AND DETAIL. J. W. S I IMSON. See pages 28, 91, 206, 294, 296, 298, 304, 306, 308. 298 TAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. height, we find all the lines of sidewalks, curbstones, base- ments, and roofs gradually converging in the extreme distance. In case two parallel lines are as near together as the two tracks of a railway, they may seem actually to meet in the distance. Notice the upper illustration at the left of Fig. 1 68, page 297. As the appearance indicated is universal in nature, of course art, in representing nature, must represent it also. Yet for centuries the proper method of doing this was not understood. Now it is known that if, from an imaginary vanishing point on which the eye, in gazing toward the back of a picture, is supposed to be fixed, radiating lines be drawn to the top and bottom and sides of a form represented in the fore- ground, these lines between the form and the vanishing point will determine the top and bottom and sides of other figures, which in the degree in which every dimension in them is made smaller than the form in the foreground, will appear to be, not less in actual size, but at a greater distance from the spectator. Notice the left upper illus- tration in Fig. 168, page 297. These laws of perspec- tive are now so well known that their more simple effects are easy to produce. But some of them are exceedingly difficult. Take cases of foreshortening, for instance, like the representations painted by Michael Angelo on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel of figures in all possible posi- tions, standing, sitting, lying, and ascending in clouds, — could any one, unless very skilful as a draftsman, produce with success such effects? But from this linear representation of light and distance, let us now pass on to that of life and movement. The spokes of a wheel in a wagon, when standing still, have one appearance. What is their appearance when the wagon is under way ? What is the appearance of a torch 299 FIG, 169.— LEAVING FOR WORK. J. See pages 295, 300. F. MILLET. • 300 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. when waved through tire air, or of the legs of a man or a horse when racing ? What is the appearance of the leaves of trees or the waves of lakes when swayed by a tempest ? An attempt to answer these questions will convince us of the impossibility of using the classic line in all cases, even when the object is in clear light and near at hand. Flying spokes of wheels, whirling torches, moving legs, tossing waves and foliage (see Fig. 152, page 231), are seldom seen with distinct outlines. To have these, an object should remain a certain length of time in one place. If it do not, all the outlines are blurred and run into one another, or into the atmosphere. For this reason, a rolling wheel is repre- sented not as a compound of spokes, but as a sparkling disk, a waving torch not as a point of light, but as a curve, and a moving form not as a stationary one, but dispro- portionately extended. Notice the left leg of the man in Fig. 169, page 299. It is evidently lengthened as it is, in order to represent two different positions which the eye is obliged to take in at one glance. Whether the at- tempted effect is a success in this particular case may be doubted. But effects analogous to it are often greatly praised. “ Let us look at these Arab horsemen of Fro- mentin,” says Van Dyke in his “ How to Judge of a Picture.” “The horse of this falcon flier going at full speed has been criticised, because, forsooth, the body is too long and the hindquarters are stretched out behind instead of being compactly knit together. . . . But stand back and see the effect of the whole. Is not the motion, the life, the fire, the dash superb ? Could any- thing give us a better impression of the swiftness of flight.” The desire to convey this impression of movement with its associated ideas of life and force largely accounts for REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 301 the apparent lack of accuracy, and sometimes unmistak- able exaggeration in the works of such an artist as Michael Angelo (see Fig. 170, page 301), as well as for this and also for what seems to be a lack of distinctness in the paint- FIQ. 170.— TOMB OF GIULIANO DE’ MEDICI WITH FIGURES OF DAY AND NIGHT. ANGELO. See pages 50, 301, 302. ings of Blake, Millet, Diaz, Corot, and Daubigny. As Van Dyke says: “ It is the attempt of every true artist to paint not reality, but the appearance of reality.” All that has been said of drawing in painting applies to carving in sculpture. The method of finishing surfaces 302 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. in marble or bronze, whether represented in full or in par- tial relief, is not determined solely by the outlines of the form imitated, but by the appearance that it presents, as affected by the play of light and shade upon its surfaces and the suggestions of shape, texture, perspective, life, or movement necessarily connected with one rather than with another mode of treatment. It would be difficult to find any human forms with muscles actually resembling those in the figures in Michael Angelo’s “ Tombs of the Medici,” at Florence (Fig. 170, page 301). Yet the influence of light and shade upon the carving, when viewed from a distance, makes all seem wonderfully real. The perspec- tives represented in Fig. 23, page 51, or in Fig. 155, page 247, suggest shape and distance as faithfully as if depicted on canvas ; and the slightly elongated or contracted pro- portions in Barye’s bronzes of men and animals give effects of life and movement equal to any attempted in painting. The requirements of the effects just mentioned, which make difficult the representation of objects by means of drawing, have a corresponding influence upon the repre- sentation of the colors of nature. For centuries, painters have been trying to imitate these. But how seldom have they been in every regard successful? The earlier artists, even in comparatively modern times, did not seem to see exactly what these colors were. The blue of the sky and the bloom of the cheek were painted in hues altogether too deep and full. Sparkling effects like those gianced from water were scarcely attempted. Foliage on distant mountains was represented by an impossible green ; and as for that near at hand, it seems to have remained for the discoveries of physics to suggest to painters how fre- quently it can be helped by slight introductions among its shadows of purple or red. REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 303 Nor did the earlier painters seem to recognize the varie- ties in these colors, — the infinite numbers of tints and shades found in them when exposed to more or less of sunlight. They could never represent aright the folds of drapery, the leaves of trees, nor even the plain ceiling of a room where it was necessary to reproduce effects of illu- mination or reflection. Much less could they represent the larger play of light and shade, air luminous with sun- shine or mellow in the moonlight. What hues could pic- ture the effects of firelight or of shadows cast by certain colors or received on certain colors ? Only many experi- ments could settle these questions ; only science could set- tle them beyond dispute. The manner in which it has done this will be examined in another volume of this series. But a few paragraphs with reference to the subject will not be out of place here. In order to express the effect upon colors of most of the influences that we are to consider, painters use the word value. The same color, for instance, is said to have a different value in sunshine, in shadow, on the surface of a square, and of a sphere, in a texture of silk and of vel- vet, when near us or when seen distinctly in a clear at- mosphere, when remote from us or when seen indistinctly in a dim atmosphere, or when considered in its relations to movement. The artist who preserves the proper values of color is the one who, in all these cases, represents it as in the circumstances it appears in nature. The use of the term undoubtedly grew out of the appli- cation to colors of other terms like rich, full, deep, thin, weak. It would be natural to say that anything which could be more rich or full than another could differ from it in value. All such terms, however, when once used, come soon to have technical meanings. The meaning now attached to this term is indicative of the degree of light o o 304 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. that is in a color. In the foreground of a picture, where there is the most light rendering it distinct, the color is said to have more value than the same when in the back- ground. The term is also applied to colorless drawings, but, in this case, a line that is in the foreground, where there is the most light rendering it distinct, is, unlike a color, darker rather than brighter. So we have the ap- parent anomaly of assigning the most value to bright colors, but to dark lines (see Fig. 168, page 297). A score or more of years ago the term was used to indicate differ- ences between different hues; yellow, for instance, as con- taining more light, being said to have more value than green containing less light. At present, however, the word is mainly used to indicate relations between differ- ent tints or shades of the same hue, tint being a term in- dicative of what contains more light, and shade a term indicative of what contains less light than the hue itself does when it is what is termed full. As illustrating the very different effects produced upon the same color by very slight changes in degrees of light and shade, excel- lent examples are afforded in the Metropolitan Museum of New York. For instance, in the picture entitled “ Gossip,” by Carl Marr, dresses, a table-cloth, a window curtain, and many other articles placed side by side are all white. In another picture, entitled “A Spanish Lady,” by Fortuny, the dress, laces, ribbons, and ornaments of jet are all black; and in still another, entitled “ Monks in the Oratory,” by F. M. Granet, the robes, seats, wainscot- ing, and other objects are all brown. As was done in the case of drawing, let us consider here, first, the representation of light and shade. The very earliest paintings of which we know — the Egyptian — contained no shadows whatever. The early Italians REPRESS /VTA TION OF MA TER/AL APPEARANCES. 305 thought that they could depict the effects of light upon a fabric of any color by white, and of shade upon the same color by black. Of course, their method did not involve any study of what is now termed value. But with the development of the possibilities of pigments by Leonardo, Titian, Correggio, Rembrandt, and their re- spective followers, the necessity for this study became recognized. In modern times it has been still further emphasized by the employment of the term itself, and in the teaching of what is meant by it in the schools. The effects of light and shade upon any scene in nature may be said to be general and particular. That which is general is produced upon a scene or an object in it, as a whole, by some illumining agent, like the sun, the moon, a fire, or a candle. That which is special is produced by the different positions relatively to one another of differ- ent parts of the whole. A tree or a man, for instance, if depicted in sunshine, would each cast a shadow, and each with its shadow would illustrate the effects of general light and shade. But besides this, every leaf or limb of the tree is illumined with a light peculiar to itself, and casts its shadow on some other leaf or limb ; and every feature in the countenance and every fold in the clothing of a man is either in extreme brightness, like the tip of his chin or nose, or in shadow, like a dimple of his chin or one side of his nose. In some of these cases, as for in- stance, where sparkling effects are necessary, light can be properly indicated by white, and shade, as where surround- ing colors are very dull, by black ; in others, as where the light falls strongly on brilliant colors, the shadows must contain hues that complement these ; but in many cases, especially where the light is not intense, it is mainly neces- sary to change the values of the same hues making them 20 306 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. brighter in more light and darker in less. To preserve the proper relations and proportions of coloring, in each case, is, of course, extremely difficult, and necessitates very careful observations of the conditions of nature. The main principle is that the brighter the illumining light, the greater are the contrasts both of shade and hue between the bright and dark parts and the more sharply defined are the lines of demarkation between them (see Fig. 1 68, page 297). Besides this, in any given scene, the influence of the light is such that, to be properly represented, the values need to be slightly and gradually changed at almost every point. The difference in a painting between the appearance of mere paint and the appearance of reality is largely due to these slight variations in values, producing, wherever are depicted thick foliage or folds of drapery, those subtle suggestions of the play of light and shade in which nature always abounds. Other facts that should be considered in connection with light and shade, need not detain us here. Some have reference to conveying, through methods of composition, an impression of unity. These are treated in “ The Genesis of Art-Forms,” under the various heads of Principality, Central-Point, Massing, and Gradation. Others have reference to color-harmony, and these, as well as the former, will be treated in a vol- ume to be entitled “ Proportion and Harmony of Line and Color in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture.” As in the case of drawing, the representation of shape and texture is closely related to that of light through the use of color. Shape is indicated mainly in connection with general, and texture with special, light and shade. It is the narrow or broad lines or masses of intensely bright and sometimes white color which, together with darker colors on either side or surrounding them, enable us to REPRESENTA TION OF MA TERIAL APPEARANCES. 307 perceive that a surface on which they appear is intended to represent an edged or a rounded or circular shape, while similar characteristics, differently and more minutely distributed, enable us to recognize that the texture is in- tended to' seem like that of silk, velvet, wool, wood, stone, soil, water, or clouds. We can recognize these facts, even from the corresponding effect as produced by the use of the pencil in Figs. 16, page 41, and 167, page 293. The necessity of representing shape in painting was recognized very early in the development of the art, but there were no great painters of texture before those of the Nether- lands, like Dou, Hals, Denner, Terborch, and Jan Steen. In modern times there are many who excel in producing these effects, noticeably Meissonier, Willems, Breton, Fortuny, and Alma Tadema, as well as, in landscape, Rous- seau and Troyon. In the paintings of all of these, silks, satins, velvets, rugs, leathers, furs, feathers, marbles, moss, sod, tree-trunks, rocks, water, are evidently treated as they are with a primary design, not in all cases equally suc- cessful, to have every detail represent exactly what they purport to be. The use of values in the representation of distance , or aerial perspective , is perhaps more important than in the representation of texture. The atmosphere is filled with particles that cause it to act like a vail obscuring the colors in the distance by depriving them of a part of their light. This, for reasons to be explained in “ Proportion and Harmony of Line and Color in Painting, etc.,” pro- duces two effects. It causes the colors as distances increase to become duller and, in the remote distance, to become changed in hue. In an atmosphere pervaded throughout by the same general degree of light, yellow, which contains the most light of any of the colors, passes 30S PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. into darker yellow and orange ; orange into red-orange and orange-brown ; red into dark red and brown ; yellow- green, like that in the near foliage in bright sunshine, into green, then into dark green, and in the extreme distance into blue and purple, or, in the absence of sunshine, into gray ; near colors too of dark green and blue pass through purple into gray. The local shadows cast by a hill, tree, or leaves in the greater brightness near at hand are darker than the shadows at a distance (see Fig. 1 68, page 297). The general shadows cast by the clouds do not necessarily have this effect. Often in fact, by obscuring the sunlight near at hand and leaving it clear in the distance, in other words by changing the degrees of light in different parts of a landscape, they change the distribution of colors that have been mentioned. In an ocean view, for instance, light green is sometimes seen in the distance and deep blue near at hand. But as a rule the colors in aerial per- spective will appear as has been stated. In regiments of soldiers marching toward us, all clad in scarlet, that color seems brightest in the front rank, slightly less bright in the second, and gradually decreases in brightness till in the remotest distance it may seem nearly brown. Even in the same room books of the same color seem to differ, if one be a foot farther from us than the other, provided always, of course, that they are illumined by the same degree of light. All these statements can be seen illus- trated, by inspecting the works of artists like Rousseau, Daubigny, Millet, Troyon, or others of the Fontainebleau- Barbicon school, the oriental pictures of Decamps or Fromentin, or the landscapes or interiors of more modern painters like Inness or Chase of our own country, Israels of Holland, or Lerolle of France. Those who have an opportunity to do so will be interested in noticing the REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 309 effects of distance and space as produced by the latter, in the “ Organ Recital,” which is in the Metropolitan Art Museum in New York. Life and movement are also represented by the use of pigments. The surfaces of moving objects are all the while passing either into the shade or out of it, or farther from us or nearer us, as the case may be. This fact necessarily involves changing their colors and causing them to run or blur together. Not only so, but in the degree in which their surfaces are capable of reflecting the light, it produces those contrasts between sparkling and dark effects with which we are all familiar in the appearance of waves and revolving wheels, when glancing back the sunshine. Even in objects where there is little movement, as in ordinary sod and tree-trunks, there is an irregularity of surface and of substance that produces graded, striped, and checkered effects, all of them apparently so inseparably connected with life, that the reproduction of them by the use of pigments is essential to make a picture seem life-like. In fact, here as else- where, we find that the difference between the suggestion of the reality of nature and the suggestion of mere brush- work in a picture is owing mainly to the fact that in the former the true values of the colors have in all cases been preserved. But enough has been said here for our present purpose. There are other considerations in connection with this subject that need to be understood even for the recogni- tion of successful imitation, such as the influence of re- flection or of shadows cast by or on certain colors in different degrees and kinds of light, and the way in which two colors having one effect in nature weaken or strengthen one another when brought together in the 310 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. closer proximity necessitated by a picture. But none of these facts could be treated satisfactorily without a more extended explanation of the scientific principles involved than would be appropriate in a place where we are con- sidering color not as color but as a means of representa- tion. For this reason, a discussion of them must be postponed to that volume of this series of essays entitled “ Proportion and Harmony of Line and Color in Painting Sculpture, and Architecture.” CHAPTER XVII. THE DEVELOPMENT OF REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE. Modes of Expression in Architecture and Music as Contrasted with Paint- ing, Sculpture, and Poetry— The Germs of Music and Architecture Ante- date those of the Other Arts, but are Artistically Developed Later — Music Develops through Poetry, and Architecture is Hut-Building Made Picturesque and Statuesque — Early Attempts to Make Useful Buildings Ornamental — Examples — Influence of the Play-Impulse upon All Forms of Construction — Illustration of its Effects upon a House — These Effects Represent both Mental and Material Conditions — Facts Evincing this — Such Effects as Enhancing the Interest. gEFORE concluding the task undertaken in this vol- ume, the effects of appearances, which were studied in detail in Chapters II. to XI. inclusive, must be con- sidered as combined together in the products of architec- ture. As an aid to this end, let us first recall what was said in Chapter II. of the differences between the modes of expression developed in this art and in painting and sculpture. In these latter, as also in poetry, the mode was said to be responsive or unsustained, a terminal- ogy explained by directing attention to the fact that their forms are occasioned by an endeavor to respond to outside interruption, or at least emergency ; as is ex- emplified when a cat moves about and mews ; or when a bird flits from branch to branch and chirps ; or when a man, gazing from one to another of his surroundings, re- 312 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. fers frequently in language or action to what he hears or sees. If he do so by word, we have that which de- velops into poetry, if by deed, that which develops into painting or sculpture. But aside from this mode of ex- pression, it was pointed out that there is another, which may be termed subjective or sustained. In accordance with this, the cat keeps quiet and purrs, the bird stays on one branch and sings, and the man works and hums to himself, developing a plan or melody from some single outside suggestion without consciousness of interruption ; or, at least, of anything like constant interruption, in which other things are suggested. It was said that this subjective or sustained mood is at the basis of represen- tation in architecture and music; also that because the mood is suggestive rather than responsive, there is less necessity in these arts than in painting, sculpture, and poetry for expressing thought and emotion in such ways as to communicate definite information to others ; and because the method of expression is sustained, there is less consciousness of external surroundings, and therefore, less tendency to describe and imitate their appearances. The musician constructs an entire symphony from a single significant series of tones, and the architect constructs an entire building from a significant series of outlines. At the same time, there is, in both arts, an occasional return to nature for the purpose of incorporating, if not imitat- ing, in the product some new expression of significance. But the fact that they are both developed from this sus- tained and subjective method of giving expression to a first suggestion, makes such a return to nature much less frequent in them than in the other arts. One more point of similarity between music and archi- tecture ought, perhaps, to be mentioned. It is this, that REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE, 3 1 3 while, as among very young children, for instance, the in- articulated tones that develop into music antedate the articulated words that develop into poetry, the artistic forms of music, as in melody and harmony, are developed much later than those of poetry. In the same way, too, while the building of huts that develops into architecture antedates the drawing, coloring, and carving that develop into painting and sculpture, the artistic forms of architec- ture, as in ornamental columns, pediments, and spires, are developed later than painting and sculpture of, at least, sufficient excellence to merit recognition. Of course, the human being is obliged at a very early stage in his his- tory to provide means of shelter. But he is not influ- enced to construct that which he erects in such a way as to give expression to his thoughts and emotions, which is essential for an artistic motive, as early as he is influenced to draw pictures for the same purpose. A boy, or a boy- like savage, using a pencil or knife, will enjoy expressing his thoughts and emotions byway of imitation for its own sake, long before he will enjoy doing the same for the sake of ornamenting what would be just as useful without ornamentation. In the former case, his mind begins by being at play ; in the latter, by being at work ; and his first desire always is to be rid of work. The truth seems to be that the tendency to produce inarticulate sounds, and to construct rude means of shel- ter, have to wait for their artistic development until after men, through the consciously intellectual use of words or pictures, drawn or carved, have acquired that distinc- tively intellectual sense which is called artistic. As shown in “ Music as a Representative Art,” music is an adapta- tion of the intonations of voice which necessarily accom- pany words, but with the words not necessarily present, 314 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. So architecture can be said to be an adaptation of the arrangements of appearances which necessarily accompany pictures or statues, but with the pictures or statues not necessarily present. That is to say, just as music is suc- cessful in the degree in which it fulfils the principles underlying the uses of words in poetry, though these words are absent, so architecture is successful in the degree in which it fulfils the principles underlying the use of appearances in paintings and statues, though these appearances are absent. An architect in our own times first makes a drawing of his building. The same man, before the days of pencils and paper, might not have made an external drawing. But he would have made one in imagination ; and this would have indicated the influ- ence upon his mind of a picturesque or statuesque con- ception. But how could he have had this, except as he had had experience of some previously existing picture or statue ? As already intimated, we cannot imagine a time when human beings did not use their hands in order to con- struct what would enhance their comfort and enjoyment. They would naturally do this almost as early as they would articulate sounds ; and the most important of their labors of this kind would be directed toward providing means for protection and shelter. The earliest human dwellings are supposed to have been caves, or very rudely constructed huts. According to the views presented in “ Art in Theory,” so long as men expended no thought or emotion upon these beyond that needed in order to secure an end of utility there was no art of architecture. But it is impossible to conceive that the human mind would not begin very soon, in this department as in all others, to pay some attention to aesthetic ends. “ So far REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE. 315 as we can at present discover,” says Wyatt in his “Fine Art,” “the earliest attempt at architectural effect was the decoration of the face of the cave which formed the dwelling of the individual (see Fig. 171, page 315). Openings, made for the access of light and ventilation with more or less rude cutting scarcely worthy of the name of architec- tural decoration, were executed with rude implements at a very early age. Masses of stone, left to support the superincumbent rock, as the natural cavern was en- larged, gave origin to those rude piers which, at first misshapen, subse- quently squared, then reduced by the cutting off of the angles to an octagonal shape, and further shaped by additional cut- tings to a polygonal section, ultimately assumed the form of the cylinder, slightly tapered” (see Fig. 172, page 3 1 7). Again he says : “ At an extraordinarily early period in the history of mankind we meet with structures in which stone and other mineral substances simulate construc- tions in wood (see Figs. 171, page 315, and 172, page 317). 3 1 6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ,4yV.C> ARCHITECTURE. It would be unnatural to suppose that these construc- tions had not their prototypes in buildings of wood.” In other words, to put this in language conforming to what was said on page 314, the earliest traces of architec- ture indicate endeavors to make pictures — of course, as the material used was stone, to make sculptured pictures — out of that which was being constructed. Fig. 171, page 315, for instance, represents one of the earliest attempts at architecture that has been discovered in Asia Minor. Looking at it, one would suppose that it was a cave, in front of which a framework of wood had been erected. Not at all. It is merely a picture in stone of such a framework. Again, Fig. 172, page 317, represents a very ancient interior of a cave-temple in India. Flere, also, one would suppose that pillars and rafters of wood had been introduced in order to support a ceiling which other- wise might fall. Not at all. 'JTlrese apparently wooden columns and beams have been carved out of the native stone of the cave. Why has this been done? Can any one doubt the reason of it ? Can any one fail to perceive in them the influence of a picturesque and statuesque motive ? Can even those who prophesied so confidently that the theory of this series of essays was sure to break down when it came to be applied to architecture, be so dull as not to see that this wellnigh earliest architecture of which we know was distinctively representative ? Ob- serve, too, that it was representative of both mental con- ceptions and material appearances. No one looking at the entrance of the one cave, or the interior of the other, could fail to recognize both that a man had been at work upon it, and also that he had been at work for the pur- pose of reproducing that which he had seen elsewhere. It would represent the man, because one would know REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE. 317 that the person who had planned the carving had been accustomed to wooden constructions, and it would repre- sent his thoughts and feelings with reference to these, because it would show his appreciation and admiration of certain of their effects. Otherwise he would never have tried to reproduce similar effects through the use of material infinitely harder to shape. FIG. 172.— CAVE OF ELEPHANTA, INDIA. See pages 315, 316, 375, 376, 389, 407. Now, with these facts in mind, which will give a gen- eral conception of the principle to be unfolded, let us recall what was said in Chapter VII. of “Art in Theory” with reference to the beginnings of all the arts. It was pointed out there that they all spring from elaborations for aesthetic purposes of forms used, at first, for merely practical purposes. It is inevitable that a human being, constituted as he is, will represent his thoughts through 3 I S PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. inarticulate and articulate utterances, and through draw- ing and carving pictures. It is equally inevitable that, after a while, his imagination will start to play, so to speak, with the forms through which these representa- tions are made, and that, finally, each of these forms will be developed artistically. The accuracy of this state- ment can be verified as applied even to the lower forms of the arts of ornamentation. For practical purposes, a . man produces a piece of woven cloth or something made through the use of it. That the cloth may not ravel at its edge, a section of it is purposely unravelled here, or a hem is made there, or, if two pieces of cloth be used, a seam is produced where the two are joined. After a little, according to a law which the mind always follows, the imagination begins to experiment with these neces- sary contrivances, and then the unravelled edge, the hem, the seam, each respectively, becomes a fringe, a border, or a stripe ; i. e., each is developed into one of the well- known ornamental resources of the art of the tailor or upholsterer. It is the same in architecture. When the imagination begins to play with the underpinnings of buildings, or with the means of approaching and entering them, it gives us foundations, steps, or porches; when with the parts upholding the roof, it gives us pillars, pilasters, or buttresses ; when with the tops, sides, and bottoms of openings, it gives us caps, jams, or sills of doors or windows ; when with the roof and its immedi- ate supports, it gives entablatures, eves, gables, spires, or domes. Fig. 173, page 319, taken by permission from the Intro- duction to Fergusson’s “ History of Architecture,” will illustrate this. The part of the picture at the left shows us little except brick and mortar and openings. It repre- REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE. 319 sents a house, but not a product of what, in any sense, can be termed the art of architecture. But each section to the right of this shows more and more of the develop- ment, through the play of imagination, of artistic possi- bilities. First, the vertical sections between the windows are brought forward and given the effects of pilasters, which are also connected at their tops by arches. A cor- FIG. 173.— DEVELOPMENT OF ARCHITECTURAL FEATURES. FERQUSSON. See pages 52, 318, 319, 323, 343, 344, 360, 380. nice too is added to the building. Next the cornice and the horizontal spaces between the windows are orna- mented. Next, differently cut stone is introduced into the lower story, horizontal string-courses are made to separate all the stories, and a balustrade is placed above the cornice. Lastly, the width of the building is in- creased, and almost every feature in it is shaped mo>' 0 ornamentally and grouped more symmetrically. 320 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Such being the process of the development of architec- ture, let us try to ascertain in what sense the art may be said to represent both mental and material conditions. When an experienced traveller comes upon caves or huts or any buildings that have been used by human beings, even if mere ruins like those discovered on the sites of Pompeii and Herculaneum, he instinctively draws certain inferences with reference to them. These inferences have to do with the structural uses of the different feat- ures of a building as related to one another or to its loca- tion ; and they have to do also with the ideal uses for which, according to the conceptions of the architect, as determined by the requirements of convenience or pleasure, the building is planned. In other words, these inferences are based upon the supposition that the forms can represent both the material method of the construc- tion and the mental purpose of the design. For instance, a traveller, judging merely from appear- ances, may say with reference to the methods of con- struction, that some particular pillar, bracket, lintel, arch, was shaped and placed as it is in order to furnish just the support needed for some particular weight or arrange- ment of material which is over it. Or he may say that some particular foundation was laid as it is in order to suit some particularly rocky, sandy, or marshy soil; or that some particular roof was pitched as it is in order to fit a dry or a wet climate, to shed rain or snow. Or, judging from arrangements of doors or windows, he may say, with reference to the general uses of a building, that some particular part is an audience hall, a chapel, or a picture gallery. Even if he find nothing except founda- tions, he can often declare this to be a theatre, and that to be a temple, or a bath, or a private house ; and not only so, representa tion in architecture. 321 "but sometimes, as at Pompeii, he can tell the uses of each of the different rooms of the house. Observe that, in all these ways, it is possible for a build- ing to be representative ; moreover, that, just in the de- gree in which it is so, the interest awakened by it is enhanced. It then comes to have the same effect upon us that would be produced did its builder stand by us and tell us exactly what his thoughts were when design- ing the arrangement that we see. It is as if he were to say : “ I had a conception that it would be a good idea in this position to have an arch projected so, or a ceiling supported by a bracket inserted so ; or a foundation in soil like this laid so ; or a roof in a climate like this shaped so; or a chapel for a sect like this planned so; or an audience hall for an assembly like this arranged so.” And the more one knows of architecture, the more in- numerable will he recognize to be the thoughts, and, in the degree in which ornamentation is increased, the aesthetic feelings that it is possible for the architect to represent through these apparently lifeless forms of wood or brick or stone. 21 CHAPTER XVIII. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION OF MENTAL CON- CEPTIONS : FOUNDATIONS AND WALLS. Representation of the Constructive Idea in the Foundation — The Side Walls — Pillars, Buttresses, Pilasters, String-Courses— Effects of Satisfaction and Repose versus those of Insecurity in Support Afforded by Pillars — Arches — Brackets — Important for the Apparent Support to be the Real Support — Heavy Cupolas and Ventilators — Unrepresentative Pediments — The Purpose of a Building as Determining its General Plan — As De- termining its Interior Arrangements — As Determining its Exterior Ap- pearance — Representative of the Interior Plan through the Exterior — Appearance of Five Cottages Contrasted — The Same Principle Applied to Other Buildings — Street Fronts — Palaces — Colleges — Porches, Win- dows, and Doors. AKING up, first, the representation in architecture of the constructive idea, let us consider this as mani- fested in the arrangements that are connected, first with the foundations; second, with the sides, and third, with the roofs. With reference to the foundations, it is evident that whatever may be their real character, the effect of stability in a building depends upon their being made visible ; and, of course, the same effect may be greatly increased by increasing their apparent sizes, and pro- jecting their shapes outward from the building’s base. Notice this fact as exemplified in the contrasted effects produced, on the one hand, by the large foundations under the buildings in Figs. 3, page 24, 13, page 36, 322 ARCHITECTURAL REPRESEN TA TION. 323 14, page 36, 42, page 83, and, on the other hand, by the smaller foundations under the building to the left in Fig. 1 73 > page 3 19, also in Fig. 1 74, page 324. Such contrasted effects with which all of us are familiar show that the rep- resentative principle, as applied to architecture, necessi- tates every building’s having a visible foundation ; and, not only this, but one of such size and shape as to suggest no doubt of its being equal to the task of giving firm sup- port to that which is above it. Analogous effects are produced, of course, by arrange- ments connected with the sides of buildings. P'ig. 174, page 324, has been criticised because lacking a visible foundation. But notice, nevertheless, how inter- esting and aesthetically interesting it is, because appa- rently representing, by means of visible rafters, the method of the construction of its walls. The same effect will be seen in the cottages also in Fig. 187, page 340, and Fig. 189, page 342. Observe, too, the house from eastern Russia, Fig. 175, page 325. How much more interesting and beautiful this is than would have been possible for a building of its class, had the logs of which it is con- structed been covered by clapboards instead of being left exposed ! In accordance with this principle, any arrangements that reinforce the blankness of a wall, and, at the same time, do this in a way to render apparent a real method of construction, increase the representative and therefore artistic effects. Sometimes these effects are produced by pillars as in Fig. 14, page 36; sometimes by buttresses, as in Fig. 41, page 81 ; sometimes by string-courses, as in Figs. 202, page 363, and 20 7 page 370 ; sometimes by other jutting masonry, as in Fig. 25, page 53 ; and sometimes by a combination of all these methods as in 324 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Fig. 198, page 351. When, however, as in the pilasters in Fig. 176, there is too great an exaggeration of that FIG. 174.— HOUSES AT MORLAIX, FRANCE. See page 323. which is necessary for support, there is danger that the form will appear emphasized at the expense of the con- FIG. 175.— THE STARSCHINA’S HOUSE, EASTERN RUSSIA. See pages 323, 358, 403, 408. 326 PA I IV TIN G, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. structive idea, and, of course, this effect, if produced, will be as detrimental as would be the contrary. Notice a further comment on this building on page 348. The explanation of the influence of representative constructive methods is that they impart a sense of satisfaction and repose by seeming to reveal the reasons why they are used. For instance, the impression conveyed by large stone pillars like those in I H ig. 1 77, page 327, could be greatly improved, FIG. 176.— VALM ARINA PALACE, VICENZA, ITALY. See pages 324, 348, 358, 380. and at trilling cost, by causing the stone upon which they rest, or enough stone for them to rest upon, to appear below the gallery. As it is, they seem to be held up by a wooden panelling, which, of course, could not be strong enough for the purpose, Moreover, through the aid of concealed ironwork, they are projected slightly forward from the wall below them, and this again enhances the impression of instability. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 327 Scarcely less strikingly is a like result produced by the unnecessarily complicated arrangements about the lower part of the larger tower and its parasite tower in Fig. 178, page 328. A more simple and dignified as well as sub- stantial effect would have been attained had there been in the under half of the tower only one arch. This should have been shaped, too, like the present middle arch. In that case, the distinct discord produced by the present lower large arch, as seen in contrast to the arch above it, would have been avoided ; in other words like would have been put with like, as required by the artistic principle un- folded in Chapter II. of “ The Genesis of Art- Form.” A similar sense of in- security is conveyed by the heavy gable without a visible arch under it placed over the space behind the large bay window at the left of the building of the University of Pennsylvania, Fig. 179, page 329. In Fig. 180, page 330, again, there is apparently nothing to hold up the stone sides of the upper part of the tower. The roof under them would at once be crushed into splinters if the apparent support were the real support. Another example of a similar effect will, perhaps, make our mean- ing more clear. It is becoming customary in our country to have a heavy roof supported by concealed iron girders, FIG. 177.— EXETER HALL. See pages 326, 330, 336. 328 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , , 4 /VZ? ARCHITECTURE. even where, from the inside, it is made to appear to be supported by wooded beams. In such cases, to one standing under these beams it is essential that they seem at least large enough to sustain the weight that is above them. Otherwise, the effect produced is one of aesthetic FIG. 178.— AN AMERICAN CHURCH. See pages 327, 330, 355. discomfort. For even though a man may be convinced that the roof will not tumble, the slender support repre- sented by the beams will make him feel that, logically, it should do so. Nor is it necessary, in order to experience this impression, that he should know exactly what is the ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 329 cause of it. If sensitive to the influences of form, he may merely say that the roof seems too heavy. Why it seems so can not always be told, except by one accustomed to analyze such effects. Fig. 181, page 331, represents a small beam at a corner apparently intended to hold up a ceiling. But a ceiling as heavy as this, if really held up FIG. 179.— MAIN BUILDING, UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA. See pages 327, 331, 355, 371. thus, would certainly snap the beam and fall, inside of three minutes. It is worth noticing, now, that the violation of the prin- ciple of representing the method of construction in at least four cases, and, perhaps, in all those that have been cited, is owing, as is this last, to a use of concealed iron. 330 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. This is one reason for the effect of the pillars in Fig, 177, for that of the tower in Fig. 180 and, possibly, also for that of the tower in Fig. 178. In all these cases, too, the exercise of a little more con- structive imagination would probably have prevented the architect from making his forms appear to be what they could not possibly be in reality. The effect in Fig. 181 of a heavy roof, for instance, could be obviated by the simple expedient of enlarging the corner beam. But a more radical and, for this reason, thorough way of correcting the error would be to avoid all deceit, and, in accord- ance with the method in art sometimes termed sin- cerity (see page 407), to ar- range the materials in such ways that the apparent support would be the real support. In an age of iron, why should not the iron be shown, and allowed to re- veal its genuine character? If a roof be really sup- ported by steel girders, why should not the steel be visi- ble ? A ceiling of wood, revealing its natural colors and grainings, resting on beams of polished or nickel-plated steel, might be made to have effects, both as regards ma- terial and color, in the highest sense chaste and beautiful. The metal might even be ornamented and as legitimately too as if it were bronze. Look at the ceiling in the church at New Walsingford, England, in Fig. 182, page FIG. 180.— HIGH SCHOOL TOWER. See pages 327, 330. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 331 332. Why might not something of an analogous char- acter be produced through a combination of wood and metal ? After all, the difficulty, in our age, is not to find new methods of producing genuinely artistic effects, but to find artists with sufficient originality to recognize their possibilities. Nor is there a surer way in which they may be led to realize them than through coming to know and feel and embody in their products the principle that all art, even constructively considered, should be repre- sentative. FIG. 181.— SUPPORT OF A CHURCH ROOF. Seepages 329, 330. This failure to represent the method of support, or even, sometimes, the fact of sufficient support, is exceed- ingly common in modern architecture. Notice the cupola over the central, or rather corner building, evidently a library or chapel, in Fig. 183, page 333 ; also the venti- lator over the centre of the Old South Church, Fig. 24, page 52; also the turrets at each corner of the square central part of the Pennsylvania University, Fig. 179, page 332 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. 329. Looking at such features, one is obliged to draw one of two conclusions : either that they are slight con- structions of wood, in which case they suggest incongru- ity with the stone of the buildings under them, and instability both on account of their material and of their liability to be destroyed by fire ; or he must conclude that they are of heavy and substantial material ; but if he do this, the impres- sion of instabil- ity is increased, because no roof could seem strong enough to hold them. The former con- clusion would apply also to the ventilators on the roofs of al- most all the buildings in Fig. 183, page 333, which look as if their architect fig. 182 .— decoration of a church ceilinq. had actually in- See page 330. tended them to seem ornamen- tal ! But ventilators would be better joined to the chim- neys. They certainly do not add to dignity and sub- stantiality of effect, when constructed as if they were intended to be traps in which to catch fire-brands. Another common violation of this representative prin- ciple, as well as of that of “ sincerity,” as applied to con- CO co co See pages 331, 332, 355. 35$, 359- 334 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. struction, is in such arrangements as can be noticed over the side aisles on each side of the tower in the Madison Square Presbyterian Church in Fig. 201, page 361. It is difficult to conceive how any architect could imagine that it would improve the appearance of the front to misrepre- sent the character of the roof behind it. Those whom the gable there fails to deceive cannot avoid aesthetically resenting the attempted deception ; and those whom it does deceive cannot avoid having their thoughts disturbed by trying to conjecture how a roof so shaped can afford a watershed for the rain. Even the facade of Trinity Church, Boston, Fig. 25, page 53, is objectionable, and, in this re- gard, far less satisfactory than that of the finely designed cathedral by the same architect (Fig. 184, page 335). The square front of Trinity does not represent the roof be- hind it ; nor is the effect of this fact at all counteracted by the effort of the misrepresented apex to put in an ap- pearance through rising over the obstruction just above the centre. The objection to the whole is, that the wall of a building should represent support. This square form does not represent the method of support ; nor does it, ap- parently, support anything itself. Therefore it appears to be a sham. Moreover, it produces mental perplexity. It causes one to ask : What, exactly, is the shape of the roof? and, even though this can be guessed, to ask again : How is such a roof affixed to such a wall? Having examined now the representation of the mate- rial method of construction, as manifested in the arranging or adjusting of one feature to fit another, let us pass on, and examine the representation of the mental object — in other words, of what we generally understand when we use the term plan. The first thought suggested by this term has reference to internal arrangements. A building is planned for FIG. 184— ELEVATION OF PROPOSED CATHEDRAL, ALBANY, BY H. H. RICHARDSON. See pages 334, 378, 380. 335 3 36 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. a certain use ; and, when well planned, these arrangements will almost necessarily reveal it. As was said on page 320, when men examine ruins, whether in Greece, Asia Minor, or Italy, they are able to make out a theatre, a temple, a bath, or a private house, and they can often tell us the uses of each of its different rooms. The most primi- tive buildings are thus recognized to be designed to attain certain ends ; and, for this reason, they can be said to represent these. Evidently our more modern architec- tural products can continue to do the same. Theatres, churches, markets and private houses of the present, if really adapted for that for which they are designed, will represent this. An audience hall, for instance, in which it is desirable in every part to hear and see what is going on in some other part, demands an open space free from pillars or other architectural contrivances interfering with sound or sight. Such pillars, on the other hand, may add greatly to the convenience of an arcade, a market-place, or a bourse, where people need, as in the ancient Forum, merely shelter, while promenading or bargaining in com- paratively small as well as separate groups. In ritualistic churches again, in which an elaborate ceremony, intended for the eye, is carried on about an altar considered to represent in a peculiar sense the divine presence, a chan- cel is in place; but not so in a building for non-ritualistic services. In this, a chancel means nothing. And yet, here too, a skilful architect can produce effects equalling those of the chancel through recesses made for the choir and pulpit. On the surface, facts like these seem so self- evident, as hardly to need mention. But, for some mys- terious reason, many of our foremost architects, in their practice, totally disregard them. Notice again, Fig. 177, page 327. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 337 Another fact, apparently self-evident, is that when a building is to be planned, the first thing to do is to decide upon the arrangement of the halls and rooms of the inte- rior, and let this arrangement determine that of the ex- terior. Yet the old Douglas Park University of Chicago is said to have been partly erected, in accordance with a purpose to produce a certain externa] effect, before any attempt whatever had been made to divide up the space inside of it. But, once more, if the internal arrangements are to determine the external ones, as must evidently be the case in all logical construction, then, in the degree in which this principle is carried out artistically, i.e., in such a way as to be made apparent in the form, that which is on the inside must be represented on the outside. In other words, a building to be made expressive of the thought, which, in this case, would mean the design of the artist, must have an external appearance which manifests the internal plan. Admitting this, let us ask what the features of the internal plan are which in any case may supposably be manifested. Of course, they are the sizes — i.e., the heights and widths — and the numbers and the uses of the different rooms. Now let us ask if, actually, it is possible for the exterior to manifest these, and, if so, how? For an answer, let us trace the development of the methods of doing it, starting with comparatively primitive exemplifications of them, through the use of four cottages taken with the kind permission of Mr. Ralph Nevill, from his very interesting illustrated work upon “ Old Cottage and Domestic Architecture.” Fig. 185, page 338, shows us a cottage at Chiddingfold, England. In this not only is no desire manifested, through the arrangement of doors and windows, to pro- 22 338 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. duce a symmetrical effect ; but — what concerns us more now, — no indications are given, on the outside, of the widths or heights or sizes or uses of the rooms on the inside. We know that there are two stories and, possi- bly, an attic; but of this latter we can only form a guess. The whole building is almost totally expressionless, and — what in this case is the same thing — uninteresting. FIG. 185.— COTTAGE AT CHIDDINQFOLD, ENGLAND. See pages 54, 337, 339, 358. Fig. 186, page 339, a cottage at Sandhills, Witley, Eng- land, is somewhat more representative. Four of the win- dows are arranged in some order, though we feel like demanding a fifth window over the door, and a sixth at the door’s right side. The beams, too, seem to reveal ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 339 something of the mode of construction, and of the ar- rangement of the interior, though of this last we are not certain. At the same time, this cottage is more interest- ing than that in Fig. 185. In Fig. 187, page 340, a cottage at Tuesley, we can notice a decided increase in representative features. The windows on the second floor placed, as they are, just over FIG, 186.— COTTAGE AT SANDHILLS, ENGLAND. See page 338. the openings on the first floor, show some regard for artistic effects. The vertical beams on the outside of the lower floor apparently give us a clew to the separations between rooms in the interior, while the projection over the lower windows indicates the place of the second story’s floor. 340 PAIN-TING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. Fig. 188, page 341, the inn at Chiddingfold, contains all the representative features of the last with some additions. It is still more interesting, because still more emphasis is given in it to the entrances, to the separations between stories, and to the chimneys. The front projection below the second floor makes a covering for the doors; and FIG. 187.— COTTAGE AT TUESLEY, ENGLAND. See pages 323, 339, 358. these doors, evidently, lead into the office of the inn, or into a shop or bar-room ; because, as one can see, the en- trance into the inn’s hall is at the side, a visible proof of which is afforded not only by the porch there, but by the irregularly arranged windows above it, lighting a stairway. A R CHI TECT UR A L RE RRE SEN TA TION. 341 Finally, in Fig. 189, page 342, Unsted Farm, as it is called, the architect has secured representative effects both of form and of significance ; or rather, as is always the case where this is well done, ornamental effects of form through emphasizing features that have significance. These effects, as seen in the beams of the exterior, are no FIG. 188.— INN AT CHIDDINQFOLD, ENGLAND. See pages 340, 358, 359. more necessary than the same as seen in the chimneys; but they add greatly to our interest, and they do so largely because this aesthetic emphasizing of them makes them represent also the mental design. As we look at the building we know almost exactly the widths, heights, 342 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. sizes, and shapes of all its prominent rooms, and can form a very accurate guess of that for which each of them is intended. Of course the same method might be applied to any building. Walls in which there are doors, windows, and projec- tions such as pilasters, pillars, buttresses, or string-courses, FIG. 189.— UNSTED FARM, ENGLAND. See pages 323, 341, 358. — and the same is true of foundations, porches, and roofs, — awaken as much more interest than do blank walls, as bod- ies do when infused with a soul having the power to express thought and feeling than they do when they are merely corpses. Of course, too, the more clearly the architec- ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 343 tural features reveal not only that there is thought and purpose behind them, but what this thought and purpose is, the more successful is the result. How much more so FIG. 190— MARIEN PLATZ, MUNICH. See pages 54, 344, 360, 380. is even the house at the left of Fig. 173, page 319, than would be a blank wall ! How much more successful than 344 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. this house is each of the houses to the right of it in the same figure! Observe, however, the very great increase of interest awakened by the fourth style of front, and, for the reason that, in this, the different stories are, for the first time, clearly indicated by the string-courses between them ; while, in the two upper stories, other divisions are indicated apparently separating rooms. Compare, again, FIG. 191.— UNTER DEN LINDEN, BERLIN. See pages 344, 360, 364. the inexpressive front in the building facing us in Fig. 190, page 343, “The Marien Platz of Munich,” or the fronts in Fig. 191, page 344, “Shops in the Unter den Linden in Berlin,” with the less costly, but more repre- sentative fronts at the left of Fig. 193, page 346, “ A Street and Belfry at Ghent” ; or with the fronts in Fig. 192, page 345, “ The Boulevard of St. Michael, Paris.” Compare, FIQ. 192. BOULEVARD ST. MICHAEL, PARIS. See pages 84, 344, 363., 364, 370, 380. 346 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. too, the inexpressiveness of the facade of the Strozzi Palace at Florence, Fig. 194, page 347, with the expres- siveness of that of the Chateau of Chenonceau, Fig. 195, FIG. 193.— A STREET AND BELFRY AT GHENT. See pages 344, 362, 380. page 348. In the former, the walls are entirely blank with exception of horizontal string-courses ; but these ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 347 being immediately under the windows, do not suggest any connection with the floors ; though they do suggest one aesthetically essential appearance, which is that of being an artistic adaptation of a useful feature : i.e. of a sill. In the chateau the string-courses are in the right FIG. 194— STROZZI PALACE, FLORENCE. See pages 346, 347, 359, 360. places, and the heavy masonry between the windows makes us feel, even without vertical projections, that stone partitions are behind them. Representatively considered, too, though one might object, on other grounds, to the mixture of styles, the wing at the left 34S PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. clearly revealing itself to be a chapel, is not the least com- mendable feature. Fig. 196, page 349, shows both horizon- tal and vertical divisions. As a principal entrance into the grand court of the Paiace of the Louvre, the excess of FIG. 195.— CHENONCEAU CHATEAU, FRANCE. See pages 346, 347, 352, 378. ornamentation, evinced in its pillars, may be justified. There is no question, however, that one has a different feeling with reference to the front of the Valmarina Palace of Vicenza, Italy (Fig. 1 76 , page 326), especially in ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 349 view of its unsuccessful upper story. The pilasters do not represent any arrangements on the interior, being merely imitative of effects in other buildings to which the architect had become accustomed. Nor does the cornice represent any constructive use. The upper story would have been just as firmly placed, had it been below the cornice instead of above it. Once more, compare, aside from what may be said of their roofs to which reference will be made presently, Queen’s College, Galway, in Fig. 197, page 350, with the University at Sydney, Australia, in Fig. 198, page 351. Both buildings would be called non-ecclesiastical Gothic; but notice the difference between the artistic effects of the two, owing to the greater representative characteristics of the latter. In the first, is a string-course between the stories, and an indication of a large room, probably a chapel, over the central doorway. But in the second, besides string-courses, there are projections of the walls and also buttresses, and arrange- ments of windows and doors, which seem, at least, to reveal the character of almost every part of the interior. At the extreme right is, undoubtedly, the chapel; then, to the left of it, judg- ing from the corresponding gable on the nearer side of the central tower, is a high room, which, as indicated by both the windows and door, must be either a library or a museum. In the section just to the left of the tower FIG. 196.— PAVILION OF RICHE- LIEU, PARIS. See pages 52, 348, 358, 359, 380. FIG. 197.— QUEEN’S COLLEGE, GALWAY. See pages 84, 349, 355, 359, 360, 3S0. FIG. 198.— UNIVERSITY AT SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA. See pages 84, 324, 349, 352, 355, 359, 360, 362, 369, 380. 352 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. comes first, judging from the windows, a stairway ; then on the lower floor, two rooms, and on the upper floor, one large room ; while between the two gables at the left, are three rooms on the lower floor, and two on the upper. At least these are the interior arrangements which are indi- cated by the exterior, and whether or not these particular rooms are in the building, the fact of the indication of them is of itself sufficient to make the whole interesting, which cannot be affirmed of the front of Queen’s College, Galway. In speaking both of the Chateau of Chenonceau, Fig. 195, page 348, and of the University of Sydney, Fig. 198, page 351, reference was made to the way in which high long windows represent high large rooms like those devoted to divine service, to libraries, or to museums. In this connection, too, it may be well to direct attention again to St. Isaac’s Church, St. Petersburg, Fig. 12, page 35, where, as was said, the large porch and numerous doors of the front suggest preparation for the entrance and exit of large crowds ; while the great dome over the centre suggests preparation for large audiences requiring plenty of air. CHAPTER XIX. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION OF MENTAL CONCEP- TIONS. — ROOFS. Domes — False Domes — Useless Cupolas, Pinnacles, Towers, Spires — The Same Used as Memorials — Even these should be Artistic and so Repre- sentative — This Principle as Applied to Spires and Towers — The Roof Proper — Rounded Roofs — Roofs as too Large and too Small or Invisi- ble — Gutters and Cornices, Plain and Castellated — Balustrades as Repre- senting Flat Roofs — Visible Roofs in City Streets — Paris Streets and the Court of Honor at the Columbian Exhibition — Streets in New York — Objections to High Buildings — Legislative Methods of Preventing them — /Esthetic Regulations about Sky-line, Color, and Style — The Sky-line and Mansard Roof. 'THE paragraph ending the preceding chapter suggests a transition to the subject of roofs, of which every dome is a modification. These, if apparent at all, are, owing to their situations, necessarily conspicuous, and, for this reason, afford an architect an opportunity of manifesting whatever ability he may possess in a con- spicuous way. This fact explains the origin of most of the shapes that are given to them, as well as of the features which are added to them beyond those de- manded by the requirements of shelter. The dome in Fig. 12, page 35, for instance, is one of these features. It is not prompted by any desire to secure a useful end. Merely because any roof is conspicuous, the artist con- ceived the idea of arranging this one so as to appear con- 23 353 354 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. spicuously artistic ; and he produced a form which may be said to be a result of imagination as moved to effort by the play-impulse (see Chapter VII., “Art in Theory”). However, in the place where the dome is, and over a building designed as is the one under it, it also represents, as has been said, the amplitude, both horizontal and per- pendicular, of the space beneath it. Suppose, how- ever, that the dome did not represent this space. Sup- pose that, there- fore, owing to our associations with domes in general, it misrepresented what was beneath it. Suppose that it was no dome at all, because it was solid beneath, and spanned no space ; and that, therefore, it manifested no constructive skill nor any kind of technical mastery over material difficult to work — what then? Facing us in Fig. 199, page 354, is one of two structures flanking the Royal Theatre on the Schiller Platz, Berlin. What this structure really is, is not at all what it seems to be. Neither its pillars nor any part of it are constructed of stone. All is of wood and stucco. Under the apparent dome are only rough beams and rafters holding it up ; and, though directly behind it is a A R CHI TECT UR A L REP RE SEN TA TION. 355 church — the much smaller and plainer building to its right — the pretended and pretentious entrance in front of this is not used for a portico even on Sundays, its only apparent object being to furnish a perfect example of architecture that is not representative. Without being so conspicuously out of place, similar characteristics are manifested by any number of smaller cupolas, pinnacles, towers, and spires in almost every city or town of modern construction. Think how many of these are supposed to add architectural interest to the chapels, recitation halls, and dormitories of our ordinary American colleges. Notice, for instance, on the main building of the University of Pennsylvania in Fig. 179, page 329, the cheap wooden turrets above the front en- trance, and others at each side of the building above the bay windows. Nor does any aesthetic effect produced by them justify the two large towers — especially towers so cheaply constructed — which flank the building. This, as a whole, would have manifested more artistic unity, had the money to be expended been concentrated upon a single tower, placed in the centre, as in Fig. 198, page 351. Indeed, even in this latter building, the general appearance is somewhat impaired by the little towers at the sides, unobtrusive as they are. Recall once more, too, the ornamental cupola and ventilators on the roofs of the Normal School, Fig. 183, page 333 ; and the turrets on Queen’s College, Galway, Fig. 197, page 350; also, the crowding of features about the tower in Fig. 178, page 328. In none of these cases will one who is willing to think of the subject, find it difficult to perceive what is meant when it is said that, if it had not been for the desire to ornament unduly, the impression conveyed would have been more satisfactory, because more simple, strong, and 356 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. reposeful. In the efforts of art as of all human action, it is important to remember that the fussy is never consist- ent with the dignified. But it may be asked now, very reasonably, whether representation of the method of construction or of the internal design is the only justification for using such fea- tures as we have been considering? Take the dome on St. Isaac’s, Fig. 12, page 35. Besides spanning a large interior space, does it not serve also as a memorial of the Head of the church and of His work? And, as such, is it not as appropriate as any other monument erected in commemoration of any other person or event? And, if this be so, should the result not be judged by the appear- ance which it presents rather than by any internal arrangement which it may be supposed to represent? To the first two of these questions an affirmative answer can be given ; but not to the last one, except with modifications; and for this reason: The way in which it is asked shows a misconception of that which is necessary in a monument or memorial. What is it that is necessary? We can determine this by recalling the fact that the moment men erect anything but the plainest tombstone sufficient to convey information concerning the person buried beneath it, they begin to be actuated by an aesthetic motive. But according to the principles unfolded in “Art in Theory,” an aesthetic motive tends to the representation both of material and of mental condi- tions. Therefore, unless the dome represent both the material space beneath it, and the mental purpose for which this is to be used, it is, so far, unsuccessful. Notice, too, that it fails of success, as is true in all such cases, on account not of something that can supposably exist independently of the form, but of something that ought to be under the ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 357 form, as the soul is under the body. An unrepresentative monument is a soulless monument ; and, for this reason, unfit to serve any grand memorial purpose. Architec- tural features that do not show skill in representation, do not show distinctively artistic skill, which is mani- fested in nothing so much as in adapting material means to mental ends. To apply this principle to roofs, it is the ingenuity with which their necessary features are turned into those of a dome, as well as the difficulties overcome in doing this, that gives value to the dome. Judged by this test, of course, the Berlin ornamental structure in Fig. 199, page 354, has scarcely any value. The same principle applies to the spire of a church. Its character, too, is partly useful. It enables strangers to know where to find a place of worship. But in part, also, especially as it has been developed, it is monumental and ornamental. For this reason, care should be taken to have it appear not essentially cheaper than the edifice to which it is attached. As a rule, a stone church should have a stone steeple, not a wooden one. On large public buildings, again, such as schools and colleges, a cupola, or any like arrangement, can accomplish a useful purpose. It can serve for a clock tower, belfry, or observatory. But if it cannot do this, it would generally better be omitted. The same can be said of towers on houses situated in city streets, where they are overtopped by surrounding build- ings, or placed in positions where they themselves need not be seen from a distance, or where other things need not be seen from them ; that is to say where there is no possible use to which they can be put. Only where archi- tecture, which is a development of that which is useful in building, turns into ornamental features things primarily intended to be of use, is it carrying out the principles 3 5 S PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND A RCHI TECTURE. of representative art. When it is doing anything else, as in arbitrarily introducing unnecessary features in order thus to obtain something that can be made ornamental, it is in danger of carrying out no principles of art whatever. Now turning from domes, spires, towers, turrets, and pinnacles, which are ornamental modifications of the roof, let us consider, aside from these, the roof alone, which, in many forms of architecture, is itself shaped so as to serve the purposes of ornament. There is no need of reminding careful observers of the importance of the feature to be thus examined, or of the difficulty experi- enced in treating it successfully. Many a building appears all right as far up as the top of the upper story, and then it appears all wrong. There are several reasons for this, but it is not too much to say that a chief one is the difficulty experienced in trying to make the roofs truly representa- tive. In the case of small houses there is no great excuse for not doing this. It is always possible to make a roof shaped like that in Figs. 13, page 36; 175, page 325; 183, page 333 ; 185, page 338 ; 187, page 340 ; 188, page 341 ; 189, page 342 ; or 196, page 349, or without reference to the arrangement of the cornice and wall under it Figs. 176, page 326, or 21 1, page 3 77. The real difficulty comes when there are large spaces to be spanned, either in a single building or in many connected buildings, like those lining the streets of a city ; or when again, either in such build- ings or in others, convenience or safety renders a flat roof desirable. In these days, when we think of large spaces to be spanned, our minds recur, at once, to railway stations and their rounded ribs, if not entire roofs, of iron. To these there can be no possible aesthetic objection. Nor is there any reason why iron should not be used with ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 359 smaller roofs of similar shape (see Fig. 196, page 349) ; nor why, when so used, the fact of its presence should be con- cealed. Yet this is often done, and done so effectively, and by architects whose imaginations are so incapable of originating a successful lie, that the result is not only negatively non-representative but positively misrepresen- tative. Of course, this condition can be satisfactorily changed only when architects, obliged to use such ma- terial, become thoroughly convinced that it is always possible to attain an aesthetic end without violating any first principle of art ; in other words, that it is possible to ornament even iron, and thus, without introducing any- thing foreign to utility, and therefore unrepresentative, to adapt it to artistic purposes. It is singular, as intimated on page 330, that it has not yet been recognized how chaste and beautiful roofs of this kind, genuinely con- structed, might be made to appear. They would be ex- pensive, of course, but not disproportionably so to the carved stone columns which would probably accompany them in buildings of the character in which they would appear. Where the space to be spanned is large, whatever may be the material of the roof, too much of it or too little of it is apt to be made visible. For instance, the effects of the Strozzi Palace, Fig. 194, page 347, and Queen’s Col- lege, Galway, Fig. 197, page 350, are rendered unsatisfac- tory by the absence, among other things, of a visible roof. Notice how much more expressive than this latter building, on account largely of the presence of this feature, is the University at Sydney, Fig. 198, page 351. But now, again, compare the primitive arrangement, in which are gutters at the sides of the roof, as in Fig. 188, page 341, and in Fig. 183, page 333, with the artistic devel- 360 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. opment of the same in the cornice at the top of the Strozzi Palace, Fig. 194, page 347, and also at the top of all the shops on the Unter den Linden, Berlin, Fig. 191, page 344. In these latter buildings, there are possibly no gutters, nor any necessity for them within the cornice, because the whole roofs are inclined slightly toward the rear, being what are termed flat. Compare again the castellated ornamentation under the visible roof on the wall of the University at Sydney, Fig. But it may be asked, whether there is no possible method of topping a wall so as to cause it to represent a flat roof in a less indirect way? Look at the bal- ustrade above the cornice over the houses at the right of Fig. 173, page 319, also over the building at the right of Fig. 201, page 361. What does a balustrade as thus indicated represent? What is it for? What but to keep people from falling over? But if they need to be kept FIQ. 200. — MEDIAEVAL CASTLE. See page 360. 198, page 351, and also of the building facing us in the Marien Platz, Munich Fig. 190, page 343, with the same kind of orna- mentation at the top of Queen’s College, Galway, Fig. 197, page 350, and the Oxford High School, Fig. 206, page 369. As originally used, in the mediaeval castles, this castellated form ac- companied a flat roof. See Fig. 200, page 360. Therefore, by way of association, in case no visible roof appears above it, it may be said now to represent a flat roof. FIG. 201.— MADISON AVENUE, NEW YORK. See pages 334, 360, 364, 380. 361 362 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. from this, they must be expected to walk on the roof behind the balustrade. But how could they walk on a roof unless it were flat? A few questions like this will lead to the inference that a balustrade naturally repre- sents a flat roof. Now, if we compare with this inference, the fact that this sort of ornamentation is recognized by almost everybody as, on the whole, the most satisfactory for a wall supporting a flat roof, we shall have obtained at least one proof that when by conscious design or uncon- scious accident the architect faithfully represents actual conditions, he does exactly what will fulfil the artistic conceptions of the majority of people. If there must be a flat and invisible roof, undoubtedly some such arrangement as this is the best through which to indicate the roof’s exact character. Still, when a build- ing is not too high, the desire for a visible roof is natural. H ow shall it be embodied in the result? On the left in The Street and Belfry in Ghent, Fig. 193, page 346, are arrangements in which such results are obtained, but it is evident that they are hardly feasible where buildings are very large, or where there are heavy falls of rain or snow. Besides this, it is a valid aesthetic objection that such roofs interfere with the appearance of a street as a whole, because they render it difficult to attain effects of uni- form height. However, at the right of this same figure, is a building in which gables somewhat like those on the opposite side of the street are placed above a clearly defined horizontal cornice; and this cornice might be con- tinued from building to building of the same height, and thus secure a uniform sky-line. In the University at Syd- ney, Fig. 198, page 351, we have a large roof evidently constructed on a similar principle; and in the Trinity School, New York, Fig. 202, page 363, we have a smaller ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 363 and exceedingly satisfactory roof of the same kind. When the spaces to be spanned are not too great, a roof of this general character, is probably the most apt to be success- ful. It is a genuine roof. In all regards it is exactly what it seems to be, with no contrivances designed to conceal its real shape. Moreover, the line on which rest the sills of the upper windows, as well as the line formed by the tops of the gables, would render effects of uniform height and therefore of an unbroken horizontal sky-line possible, were buildings thus planned arranged in groups or on streets. FIG. 202.— TRINITY SCHOOL, NEW YORK. See pages 323, 362, 369. That these effects are desirable, any one who has seen the streets of Paris (see Fig. 192, page 345), or who saw the “ Court of Honor ” at the Columbian Exhibition at Chicago (Fig. 203, page 365), does not need to have argued. At Chicago, the universally recognized aesthetic result was largely due to two causes — a uniform color and a uniform sky-line. The buildings manifesting these were neither of uniform sizes, nor styles. Even their heights were differ- ent, the Hall of Mechanical Arts overtopping by fully one half those surrounding it (see the building at the 364 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. left of Fig. 203, page 365). But it was flanked on all sides by a very wide modification of a portico, and it was with the height of this portico alone that the other buildings facing the Court of Honor were compared. The success of the arrangement ought to be recalled by every archi- tect or builder who takes any pride in the appearance of the city or town in which his work is to be seen. If not, he might learn a lesson at least from the way in which the subject is regarded and treated in Paris, as illustrated in Fig. 192, page 345. The general effect of the Unter den Linden in Berlin (Fig. 19 1, page 344) corresponds very closely to that of one of our older American streets ; and how much inferior it is to the French Boulevard need not be argued. But are we improving? If so Fig. 201, page 361 can show us exactly the direction in which we are doing so. One who claims that architecture may be, and should be, representative of a state of mind, ought not, perhaps, to complain of the appearance of this street. No one can deny that it is representative. The trouble is that it does not represent what is agreeable or inspiring. It represents, alas, New York. It represents the commercial spirit entirely overtopping the aesthetic and sanitary in general ; and the religious and domestic, as manifested by the church and house to the left, in particular. In more senses than one it represents selfishness and greed, en- tirely throwing into the shade beauty, health, kindness, rationality, and safety. Were it possible for any artistic motive to appeal to ourlegislatures, they would pass laws enabling owners of churches and houses afflicted as are these at the left of this picture, to obtain from any one erecting a building like the tall one, damages of an amount to render its erection impossible. Beautiful FIG. 203.— COURT OF HONOR AT COLUMBIAN EXHIBITION.— “ Cosmopolitan ” Magazine. See pages 84, 203, 363, 364, 380. 366 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE . building as it is, considered only in itself, it makes worse than wasted every penny ever expended for the purpose of giving the adjoining buildings architectural dignity or value. Of course, nobody can imagine that our legislators will ever be influenced by aesthetic considerations. But they might be reached by other considerations. To say noth- ing of preventing risk to life through earthquake or con- flagration in edifices, fireproof too often only in name, some law should be found to prevent robbing one’s near neighbors of sunshine and health, as well as one’s distant neighbors of real estate values, which a less grasping ap- propriation of fortunately situated lots would distribute more generally. In fact, the conditions are such that it would not be strange if, at no distant date, the practical and moral aspects of the subject, aside from the aesthetic, would so appeal to public sentiment that offices and hotels in these high buildings would be as much avoided as now they are sought. It may be urged that high building cannot be prevented in this country, because it is free. But it is not free — for those who interfere with even the convenience, not to say the rights, of others. There is a law in certain states of Germany that no facade can be higher than the width of the street which it faces. Some such law passed in our own States, in order to secure health and safety, would do this not only, but probably attain also the desired aesthetic end. Architects, assured that no building could exceed a certain height, would be quite certain to prevent other buildings from overtopping their own, by seeing that theirs were carried up to the exact limits of possibility. Were this done, our streets would have a uniform sky- line. Meantime, while legislation falters, why should not ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 367 the aesthetic considerations influence individuals? Why should not those interested in the development of new streets have introduced into the deeds sold a prescribed height beyond which facades should not be carried ? Or, to enlarge the question, and this in a practical direction, why should not trustees of institutions of learning pass laws prescribing not only the sky-line, but the color and style of new buildings erected by benefactors. As for the style, that is the best which, while securing unity, admits FIQ. 204.— WALKER MUSEUM, CHICAGO UNIVERSITY-— ' ‘ Cosmopolitan ” Magazine. See pages 369, 380. of the greatest variety both in appearance and also in costliness. Columbia College has started out with an expensive library, in the Graeco-Roman style, to be constructed, of course, as must everything in this style, of cut and polished stone. The question is whether it will be easy to erect museums, recitation-halls, and possibly dormitories of various shapes, that will conform to this style ; and whether, if this will be easy, there will be money enough for the purpose ; or, if so, whether it will FIG. 205.— RYERSON PHYSICAL LABORATORY, CHICAGO UNIVERSITY.- d8 See pages 369, 380. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 369 be wisely expended for such a purpose. It certainly seems, at first thought, that the authorities of the Uni- versity of Chicago have adopted a wiser course. Their buildings are in the Gothic style. One peculiarity of this style is that it can be varied almost infinitely. A num- ber of buildings can be constructed either with towers or without them, and yet, when grouped together, produce an effect of unity. Without approving of all the archi- tectural features in the two figures, the reader may recog- nize the truth of this state- ment by comparing and con- trasting the buildings in Figs. 204, page 367, and 205, page 368. Notice, also, possible modifications of the same style — though, of course, when a roof is visible in one building, it should be visible in all — in Fig. 206, page 369 ; Fig. 198, page 351 ; and Fig. 202, page 363. Another pecu- liarity of the style is that it admits of equal variety in expense. The stone is generally uncut, but any amount of carving is admissible in the elaboration of details. Ob- serve the tower in Fig. 206, page 369. As a result, a dormi- tory, costing only fifty thousand dollars, may stand at the side of a chapel costing five hundred thousand, and yet both buildings contribute equally to the harmony of the whole series of buildings. These remarks have not been wholly in the nature of a digression. After what has been said of the importance of 24 FIQ. 206. PUBLIC SCHOOLS, OXFORD, ENGLAND. See pages 360, 369, 380. 370 PAINTING, SCULPTURE AND ARCHITECTURE. i't uniformity in color and style, the reader will more fully realize the importance of uniformity in the sky-line ; and why, therefore, the desire to secure this plays so promi- nent apart in the shapes that have been designed for roofs. Evidently in the Boulevard of St. Michael, Paris, Fig. 192, page 345, this desire in connection with a desire to render some part of the roof visible, not- withstanding its gener- ally flat character, ac- counts for the method of construction. It is worth noticing, how- ever, that the visible roof does not pass into a flat roof until the curve in which the roof starts from the perpen- dicular naturally bends toward the horizontal. After this, for the roof to continue in a hori- zontal direction, does not involve any great degree of misrepresen- tation. Unfortunately, of the American imi- This imitation seems to a desire to avoid having the roof so FIG. 207.— BEDFORD BUILDING, BOSTON. See pages 323, 371, 380. the same cannot tation of this have arisen from be affirmed arrangement. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 3 7 1 high as to necessitate putting an attic into it, as is done in the Parisian original. Possibly an analogous result could be attained by making the roof bend back- ward more rapidly. But this would give an arch less symmetrical in form than in the Paris roof, and, for this reason, less beautiful. The Bedford building, Fig. 207, page 370, affords a good example of the American man- sard. As will be perceived, it does not at all conceal, as does the Paris roof, the fact that the roof is really flat. A less satisfactory mansard roof will be observed over the central part of the building of the University of Penn- sylvania, Fig. 179, page 329. Besides being out of keeping with the style of the rest of the building, the whole character of the construction and surroundings of this square arrangement, as in the wooden pinnacles at its corners, shows it to be a cheap substitute for that which, to accord with the uses of the building, should have produced an effect diametrically the opposite. CHAPTER XX. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. Object of the Present Chapter — Architecture Involves more than Natural Arrangements for Shelter — But is Developed from these — Rendered more Representative — Primitive Huts as Developed into the Temples on the Acropolis — Primitive Tents as Developed into the Oriental Temples — Primitive Rounded and Pointed Arches, Domes, and Spires • — This Imitation sometimes Conscious, sometimes Unconscious — Development of Styles Based on Straight Lines, Curves, and Angles — Criticism on the Views of Helmholtz — The Principles of Correspond- ence as Fulfilled in Architectural Forms — -Suggestive and Imitative Representation as Fulfilled in it and in other Arts— Architectural Examples. IN Chapter XIX., we were considering in what sense architecture represents mind, i. e., the thoughts and emotions, which have their sources in man in general and in the artist in particidar. We have still to consider how it represents external appearances, traceable, in their final analysis, to the material appearances of nature by which the mind or the man is surrounded. As shown in Chapter VII. of “Art in Theory,” and as said many times in this book, all the arts owe their existence to the play of imagi- nation when elaborating methods of vocal and manual ex- pression, which, previously to their artistic development, have reached a certain stage of non-artistic, and, in this sense, natural development. Poetry, for instance, is de- 372 REPRESENTA TION OF MA TERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 373 veloped from unsustained forms of sound, as in the articula- tions of language ; music from sustained forms of sound as in intonations ; painting and sculpture from manual ex- pression, as in drawing, coloring, or carving; and architec- ture from the same, as in constructing. This fact, as applied to the latter art, is sometimes over- looked. While no one confounds poetry, painting, or sculpture with the early inartistic form of expression from which it is developed, there are many who suppose that everything used for the purpose of shelter, even the rudest hut of the savage, is an exemplification of architec- ture. But one might as well suppose everything of the nature of language to be an exemplification of poetry. It has a relation to poetry. It contains the germs from which the art grows ; but this is all. So with the hut of the savage, and with many constructions more preten- tious. An ordinary woodshed has no more to do with architecture than the cry of our nursery, the talk of our kitchen, the sign of our barber, or the rock of our curb- stone has to do with the respective art to which it seems allied, whether music, poetry, painting, or sculpture. This being understood, it will be perceived that just as in the essays upon “ Poetry as a Representative Art,” and “ Music as a Representative Art,” the artistic methods of the arts discussed were derived from the previous natural, in the sense of non-artistic, uses of language and intona- tion, so here it is logical to hold that the artistic methods of architecture must be derived from the natural, in the sense of non-artistic, methods of building ; in other words, from these as developed by the natural as distinguished from the artistic man. Natural construction, like natural language, is always representative. This alone is a reason why artistic con- 374 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AA 7 D ARCHITECTURE. struction should continue to be the same. A cave dis- covered and used by a savage may be a natural dwelling; but it is not even a natural product of human construction until after he has begun to change it in order to make it more suitable for his uses. Notice, too, that when he has so changed it he has made his product representative of his ideas and purposes, which fact, as we have found in FIG. 208.— CHIEFS’ HOUSES, KEREPUNA, AUSTRALIA. See pages 8o, 375, 376, 378, 386, 397. Chapter XIX., causes it to manifest one important condi- tion necessary to an artistic result, i. e., to represent the man. Observe again, too, that, very soon after beginning to make changes in the cave, he is apt to go beyond the requirements of utility, and to make them for the purpose of introducing ornamentation ; moreover, that this orna- mentation is apt to assume the appearance of something REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 375 that he has seen elsewhere ; and that, when this is the case, it represents not only himself, but something that is outside of himself, something that belongs to the visible universe ; something which, when making a distinction between it and mind, we are accustomed to term nature. In these circumstances, both the mental and material conditions are present, which, as maintained throughout these essays, are necessary to the production of art of the FIG. 209.— RESTORATION OF THE WEST END OF THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS. See pages 376, 380, 386, 387, 397, 407, highest quality ; and it is then, too, as shown in the carved face of the cave in Fig. 171, page 315, and in the carved pillars of the cave’s interior in Fig. 172, page 317, and as explained on page 316, that we have the beginnings of the art of architecture. But caves are not the only natural forms of shelter which can be rendered artistic. Fig. 208, page 374, shows us a natural way of using the trunks of trees with coverings so 376 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. as to shield from sunshine and shed water. Fig. 209, page 375, shows us what is evidently only an artistic develop- ment of the same forms. Is it necessary to argue that the motive which, as in Figs. 1 7 1 and 172, caused men to carve the stone of the caves without or within, so as to represent wooden beams and pillars, was exactly the same as that which caused the architects of artistic buildings like those in Fig. 209 to represent in stone the wooden methods of construction, such as are seen in Fig. 208? FIG. 210.— TENT OF EASTERN ASIA. See pages 376, 386. Look, again, at the shape of the tent in Fig. 210, page 376; it is taken from Cassell’s “Across Thibet,” and represents the tent ordinarily used all over Asia to-day. Now look at the shape of the roofs in Fig. 21 1, page 377. This shape will be found repeated in every temple and palace in eastern Asia, almost without exception. More- over, whenever we visit palaces or temples in that part of the world, we find, as a rule, not one large structure, but, instead of this, in one large enclosure, dozens and scores of structures, none of them of superlative size. This fact REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 377 of itself, but especially in connection with the sagging roofs, would be enough to enable us to detect the source from which these forms have developed, even aside from the description in the Old Testament of the reproduction not only, but the representation of the tent-tabernacle of the wilderness in the elaborate permanent temple at Jerusalem. FIG. 211.—' WINTER PALACE, PEKIN. See pages 358, 376, 380, 386. So we could probably go through all of our present styles of architecture and detect in them no more than legitimate artistic developments of methods that might be termed non-artistic or natural. Two primitive roof- forms have been noticed. Figs. 212, page 379, and 213, page 381, will show us primitive domes — the first in the 378 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. form of a rounded arch, and the second in that of a pointed arch. Notice, too, the arched doorway in Fig. 213. Figs. 214, page 383, and 208, page 374, again will show us primi- tive turrets or spires. The former have exactly the same shape, too, as some in Figs. 184, page 335, and 195, page 348. It is not meant to be maintained here that all archi- tects who first used the dome or pointed spire, or windows with round or pointed arches, did so because they had personally seen among savage tribes similar constructions, which they consciously imitated. The same cause that, among the savages, would operate to make those using cheap material build with a round or pointed arch, would operate also among those using costly material. All that it is intended to maintain, is, that these several forms are first adopted in order to meet certain require- ments of nature ; and afterwards are imitated and orna- mentally developed in order to meet artistic requirements. In his “Sensations of Sound,” while discussing a ques- tion of comparative aesthetics, Helmholtz gives a very clear statement of the commonly accepted view which attributes Greek architecture alone to the actual imitation of wooden buildings. Afterwards, according to him, the other styles were developed from this style. His statement is worth quoting. “ The whole analysis and arrangement of their decorations,” he says, referring to the Greeks, “ clearly show that it was their intention to imitate wooden con- structions. The verticality of the supporting columns, the general horizontality of the supported beam forced them to arrange all the subordinate parts for the great majority of cases in vertical and horizontal lines. 1 The 1 Those not familiar with the styles of architecture to which reference is made in this passage and elsewhere in this book will find illustrations of Greek architecture (based on the horizontal line) of the Doric order in Figs. FIG. 21 2. — HOTTENTOT KRALL. See pages 80, 377, 384. 3S0 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. purposes of Greek worship, which performed its principal functions in the open air, were satisfied by erections of this kind, in which the internal spaces were necessarily limited by the length of the stone or wooden beams which could be employed. The old Italians (Etruscans), on the other hand, discovered the principle of the arch composed of wedge-shaped stones. This discovery ren- dered it possible to cover in much more extensive build- 14, page 36 ; 204, page 375 ; and 215, page 387. The main difference be- tween this and the Ionic order is sufficiently indicated by the capital in Fig. 216, page 38S, and between it and the Corinthian order in the capitals in Figs. 11, page 34, and 226, page 394. The composite order had a capital similar to the Corinthian, but crowned at the top with an Ionic scroll (Fig. 216, page 3S8). Roman architecture, which added to Greek forms the round arch, is well represented by the building at. the left of Fig. 203, page 365, its central entrance being an exact reproduction of a Roman triumphal arch. The Greeco-Roman style included both pillars and entablatures with arched forms as in Figs. 12, page 35, and 199, page 354. The last two styles are often included in what is termed the Renaissance, by which is indicated the result of the fifteenth century’s revival mainly of Roman architecture, though it does not necessarily, as in Fig. 196, page 349, involve the use of an arch. See Figs. 173, page 319 ; 176, page 326 ; 192, page 345 ; and 201, page 361. The Romanesque style has the round arch, but seldom the entablature. Its By- zantine form may be seen in Figs. 15, page 37, and 40, page 81. Its Norman form is approximated in Figs. 184, page 335, and 207, page 370. See also Figs. 218, page 390; 219, page 391 ; and 25, page 53. The Gothic, based on the pointed arch may be seen in its earlier pointed form in Figs. 41, page 81, and 3, page 24 ; and in its later decorated form in Figs. 43, page S4, 144, page 205, and 220, page 392. A modern development of this may be noticed in Fig. 24, page 52, while one building in Fig. 190, page 343, and the tower in Fig. 193, page 346, show characteristics both of the pointed and later styles. Perpendicular Gothic, developed, soon, into the florid and also Tudor, is well illustrated in Fig. 234, page 404, and by the window only in Fig. 43, page 84. Notice also Figs. 13, page 36; 198, page 351 ; and 206, page, 369. The more debased Elizabethan style used mainly in non-ecclesi- astical buildings, may be seen in Fig. 197, page 350 ; and modern Gothic in Figs. 204, page 367, and 205, page 368. The Davidian Indian style is illus- trated in Figs. 232, page 400, and 233, page 401, and the most characteristic phase of the Oriental in Fig. 211, page 377. REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 38 1 ines with arched roofs than the Greeks could do with o their wooden beams. Among these arched buildings the halls of justice (basilicas) became important, as is well FIG. 213.— KAFFIR STATION, AFRICA. See pages 377, 378, 384. known, for the subsequent development of architecture. The arched roof made the circular arch the chief principle in division and decoration for Roman (Byzantine) art. The columns, pressed by heavy weights, were transformed 382 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ^ 7 VZ? ARCHITECTURE. into pillars on which, after the style was fully developed, columns merely appeared in diminished forms, half sunk in the mass of the pillar, as merely decorative articulations and as the downward continuations of the ribs of the arches, which radiated towards the ceiling from the upper end of the pillar. In the arch, the wedge-shaped stones press against each other, but, as they all press inwards, each one prevents the other from falling. The most power- ful and most dangerous degree of pressure is exerted by the stones in the horizontal parts of the arch, where they have either no support, or no obliquely placed support, and are prevented from falling solely by the greater thick- ness of their upper extremities. In very large arches, the horizontal middle portion is consequently the most dan- gerous, and would be precipitated by the slightest yield- ing of the materials. As then mediaeval ecclesiastical structures assumed continually larger dimensions, the idea occurred of leaving out the middle horizontal part of the arch altogether and of making the sides ascend with moderate obliquity, until they met in a pointed arch. From thenceforward, the pointed arch became the domi- nant principle. The building was divided into sections externally by the projecting buttresses. These and the omnipresent pointed arch made the outlines hard, and the churches became enormously high. But both characters suited the vigorous minds of the northern nations, and, perhaps, the very hardness of the forms, thoroughly sub- dued by that marvellous consistency which runs through the varied magnificence of form in a Gothic cathedral, served to heighten the impression of immensity and power. We see then how the technical discoveries which were associated with the problems as they rose successively created three entirely distinct principles of style — the FIG 214.— NEGRO HUTS, KOUROUNDINQ KOTO, SOUDAN. See pages 80, 378, 384. 384 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. horizontal line, the circular arch, and the pointed arch, and how, at each new change in the main plan of con- struction, all the subordinate individualities down to the smallest decorations were altered accordingly ; and hence how the individual rules of construction can only be com- prehended from the general principles of construction.” Any one inclined to accept this statement, need but glance again at Figs. 212, page 379 ; 213, page 381, and 214, page 383, to recognize that the same argument which makes Greek architecture a development of primitive hut-forms, could make Romanesque and Gothic architecture the same. Moreover, it is not true, historically, that, even as used among the civilized, the pointed arch first appears in the mediaeval ecclesiastical structures. According to Gwilt’s “ Encyclopaedia of Architecture,” “ The pointed arch is used throughout the mosque erected by the Calif Walidat Jerusalem in the year 87, or about A. D. 705.” He states also that “the aqueducts that supplied Constanti- nople with water, which were commenced under Con- stantine immediately after the founding of the city, but completed under Valens, A.D. 364 and 378, exhibit pointed arches.” In addition to this it may be said that, even were all architectural styles except the Greek developed from previously existing styles, one reason for this would be that the moment a style of architecture comes into general use, it becomes one of the surrounding appear- ances, influencing the man who sees it. At the same time, it could seldom be the only appearance surrounding him, or exerting an influence upon him ; and any architect who saw, side by side, a Greek temple and a hut with a rounded roof, might, according to the degree of his originality, be inclined to imitate the latter. Always, however, were he acquainted with the methods of Greek REP RE SEN TA 7 ' ION OF MA TER/A L S URR 0 UN DINGS. 385 construction, he would construct that which he imitated, though a form that was not Greek, according to the Greek methods. There is this much truth, therefore, in the statement of Helmholtz. All architectural forms are developments of previously existing forms. But while some of these are architectural, others of them are of that primitive character which we have termed natural. In accordance, now, with everything that has been said in this volume, let us notice the order of the develop- ment of the representation of appearances in architecture as fulfilling the principles of correspondence by way, first, of association or suggestion ; and, later, of comparison or imitation. On page 8 it was said that in association things are connected that have a like general effect, though they may not seem alike in their details ; whereas in com- parison things are connected that in their details as well as in their general effects seem alike. In strict conformity with this order of representative development, notice that in poetry, music, painting, and sculpture, the first effect which the primitive artist tries to reproduce is a general outline of something, either of a story, or of a method of intonation, as in a rude ballad or chant ; or of a figure of a man or a beast, as in a rude sketch by pencil or chisel. Notice, too, that even when the desire for ornamentation is quite strong, he ornaments, at first, only the very apparent factors or features, as in measures and verses, or in colors and shadings. The early poet does not usually give that careful attention to minutiae, which in more civilized times causes a distinctively poetic style, and he never has what is termed a flowery style, by which, as usually interpreted, is meant a style excessively full of comparisons. Nor does the earlier musician make any attempt at the signifi- cant accompaniments and florid variations which come 25 386 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. later ; nor does the earlier painter or sculptor imitate in color or line the less obvious appearances of surfaces and textures. So with architects. The Assyrian, Indian, Egyptian, Grecian, and Gothic builders, all started with representation merely in general effects , such, for instance, as justify us in saying that the forms in Fig. 209, page 375, resemble those in Fig. 208, page 374, or the forms in Fig. 21 1, page 377, resemble those in Fig. 210, page 376. Even long after pillars were given capitals and care was taken with the arrangements of entablatures and pedi- ments, no ornamentation appeared except in the way of giving additional emphasis to their necessary character- istics, as in Fig. 14, page 36- But just as the straight onward flow of poetic style begins, after it passes the ballad period, to be filled up with allusions, mainly associa- tive and suggestive, and after that with imitative descrip- tions of flowers, plants, streams, mountains, and the various men and living creatures that can be seen surrounding one, so the straight onward lines of architectural style, when it gets beyond the archaic period, begin to be filled up with, first, associative suggestions, and after that with careful imitations of the appearances of nature. As Samson says, in his “ Elements of Art Criticism,” “ In Egyptian structures, temples, walls, and pylons, as well as obelisks and pyramids, slope inward from the base to the summit, according to the law of strength suggested by nature in the trunks of trees, jutting rocks, and mountain peaks.” But in later developments of these columns “the French savans of A.D. 1798 detected three classes, and named them after the object in nature from which their capitals were modelled : first, the lotus-bud capital, copied from the closed bud of the water lily ; second, the lotus- flower capital, or open lotus ; and third, the Osiride capital, REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 38 7 presenting a four-faced head of the god Osiris. Some of the capitals, again, used in shafts in the temple at Jerusa- lem, were formed of lily work and rows of pomegranates. Callimachus is said to have had the shape of the capital used on the shafts of the Corinthian order” — a late de- velopment again — (see Fig. 226, page 394) “ suggested to him by seeing the shape assumed by an acanthus growing up over a basket that happened to be placed over it.” FIG. 215.— GREEK DORIC TEMPLE OF /EGINA. See pages 380, 389, 396. As illustrating the order in which these different methods of ornamentation appear, notice- — what without illustration the mind might recognize to be necessarily true — that only general outlines are at first represented, as in the framework on the outside of the cave, Fig. 171, page 315, and even in the arrangements of the front of the temples in Fig. 209, page 375, and 14, page 36. Observe, too, the unornamented character of the pillars and pedi- 388 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. ment of the latter, as well as in the example of Roman- esque pillars in Fig. 218, page 390, and of Gothic pillars in Fig. 43, page 84. Very soon, however, the imagination begins to play with the details of form. The first re- sult of this is to produce a style of ornamentation which is termed conven- tional because, when once introduced, it be- comes the fashion, and is adopted as decisively as if by vote in conven- tion. In this style from the very start, however, there are indications of certain vague sugges- tions derived from the general, though not spe- cific, appearances of na- ture. But, at the same time, the human desire for rational regularity (see page 94) asserts itself so strongly that the results are termed geometric rather than imitative. Notice such conventional forms, slightly suggestive of outlines in tropical plants, in the pillars of the Indian cave at Elephanta, FIG. 216.— GREEK IONIC ORDER. See pages 380, 389. REPRESENTA TION OF MA TERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 389 Fig. 172, page 317, pillars, the general appearance of which, as all familiar with the subject know, could be duplicated, if necessary, from remains in Assyria and Egypt. More important for us to notice is the ornamen- tation of the Greek Ionic pillar (Fig. 216, page 388), which was developed later than that of the Doric order as in Fig. 215, page 387. Observe, too, the conventional antefix in marble over the centre of the front pediment of the Greek Doric temple of ^Egina, Fig. 215, page 387, but especially in Fig. 217, page 389. Almost every Doric temple, however, illustrates a fact that must always be borne in mind when studying architec- ture. This is that a style continues to be the same for years after certain ten- dencies derived from it have been developed so far in some buildings that it might be supposed that they would have exerted an influence upon all build- ings. This temple of JEgi- na had features not immediately used elsewhere. Un- like the later Theseum (Fig. 14, page 36), over whose eaves were forms made in the style of Fig. 217, it had partly imitative forms (Fig. 222, page 393); and unlike many Doric temples, it contained wholly imitative statues in the pediment (Fig. 215, page 387). But to return to the illustrations of conventional forms, notice FIQ. 217.— ANTEFIX OF MARBLE, TEMPLE OF /CGINA. See pages 389, 398. 390 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. the capitals on the Romanesque pillars on each side of the doorway in h ig. 218, page 390, and on the small pillars in the partly Romanesque interior in Fig. 219, page 391 ; also on the pillars in the pointed interior, Fig. 3, page 24, as well as the whole combination of forms in Fig. 220, page 392, FIQ. 218. DOORWAY TROITZKA MONASTERY, RUSSIA. See pages 380, 388, 390. representing an interior in that early decorated Gothic style which preceded the extensive use of such details as are illustrated in Fig. 230, page 395, and Fig. 231, page 396. A little later, as originally used, though often, as found now, in the same buildings with these conventional forms, REPRESENTA TION OF MA TERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 39 1 which long continue to be in vogue, come forms that are distinctly imitative. Yet, at first, the imitation is only partial. That is, parts of certain natural forms are copied, but they are not put together as in nature. This fact is FIG. 219.— INTERIOR OF SAN VITALE, RAVENNA. See pages 380, 390. particularly evident in the representations of living figures ; and the principle manifested is so universally exemplified among the architects of all civilized countries, FIQ. 220.— CHOIR OF ELY CATHEDRAL, ENGLAND. See pages 78, 380, 390, 405. 392 REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 393 while the particular applications of the principle are so different that it seems as if it can only be ascribed to a FIQ. 221.— PORTAL AT PERSEPOLIS, PERSIA. FIG. 222. — ACEOTERIUM AND GUTTER, TEMPLE OF /EGINA. See pages 393, 398. See pages 389, 393, 398. natural tendency invariably characterizing a certain stage of architectural development. Notice the combination of the man, four-footed beast, and bird in the illustration from Persian architecture in Fig. 221, page 393 ; of the four-footed beast and bird in the Egyptian, Fig. 223, page 393, of the same in the Greek, Fig. 222, page 393 ; and of the same in the gargoyle, which, as produced in Cologne Ca- thedral, is imitated from a FIG. 223.— EGYPTIAN HIERACO SPHINX. See pages 393, 39S. 394 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. style common in the earlier Gothic architecture, in Fig. 224, page 394. Some, whose attention has never been directed FIG- 224.— GARGOYLE FROM CATHEDRAL, COLOGNE. See pages 393, 394, 398. FIG. 225.— CAPITAL FROM A TOMB AT PERSE POLIS, PERSIA. See pages 394, 398. to the subject, will probably be surprised to find such forms in Greek architecture. Yet there they are. Still later than these partially imitated figures, though now, of course, often found in the same buildings with them, come those that are fully im- itated. On the border line FIG. 226.— GREEK CORINTHIAN CAPITAL. See pages 380, 387, 396. FIG. 227-— TEMPLE ATIPSAMBOOL, EGYPT. See pages 396, 398. between the two, we can place the Persian capital in Fig. 225, page 394, the Egyptian lotus-leaf capital in Fig. 10, FIG. 228.— CAPITAL AT DEN- DERAH, EGYPT. FIG. 229.— GIANTS, TEMPLE OF AQRIQENTUM. See pages 396, 398. See pages 396, 398. FIG. 230.— CAPITAL FROM CATHEDRAL AT RHEIMS, FRANCE. See pages 390, 396, 398. 395 396 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. page 34, and the Greek Corinthian capital, developed later than either the Doric or Ionic, in Fig. 226, page 394. As fully exempli- fying this tendency, notice the Egyptian temple at Ip- sambool, Fig. 227, page 394, which might be paralleled by examples from India and Assyria ; the later Egyptian capital from Denderah, Fig. 228, page 395 ; the giants from the Greek temple of Zeus at Agrigentum, Fig. 229, page 395, to which might be added the well-known caryatides in the Erechtheum at Athens, not to speak of the figures in pediments, and entablatures, as illustrated in Figs. 148, page 223, and 2 1 5, page 387; and, finally, the method of dealing with forms, which we find in the later decorated Gothic, as in the capital and the corbel from the cathedral at Rheims, in Fig. 230, page 395, and Fig. 231, page 396. FIG. 231.— CORBEL FROM CATHE- DRAL AT RHEIMS, FRANCE. See pages 38, 390, 396, 398. r CHAPTER XXI. ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS CONTINUED. The Order of Representative Development in Architecture — Styles Imita- ting Appearances in Nature — Testimony of Facts — Applied to Interiors and Exteriors — Developments of the Imitative in the other Arts — Pos- sibilities of its Development in Architecture New Uses of Metals — The Development of the Tendency might not Improve the Art — Would Necessitate the Exercise of Genius — What are Valid Arguments against such Developments — Sincerity in the Use of Material, Natural Woods, etc. — Use of Material Natural to a Locality — Conclusion. J\ S shown in Chapter XX., artistic representation in architecture begins by reproducing in a compara- tively imperishable material, constructions previously erected in a perishable one. This representation is made accurate, if possible, as in the framework in Fig. 171, page 315. But often the very character of the differences in- volved makes accuracy infeasible if not impossible. The Greek temples in Fig. 209, page 375, reproduce such huts as are in Fig. 208, page 374, but only suggestively, in general outline. Very soon, however, as we have found, and very naturally too, the representative tendency thus started into activity, manifests its presence by leading, usually in the way of ornamentation, to the reproduc- tion of other surrounding objects, objects not produced by men. At first, these objects are only suggested, 397 398 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ^A r Z) ARCHITECTURE. so that, in seeing them, one merely associates them with the natural forms which they resemble. In this ivay, the leaves of certain flowers are suggested, as by the capitals in Figs, io, page 34; 11, page 34; and the antenx in Fig. 2 1 7, page 389. So too actual living animals are suggested, as by the combinations in Figs. 221, page 393 ; 222, page 393 ; 223, page 393 ; 224, page 394 ; and 225 page 394. Later, however, these represented objects are actually imitated from objects seen in nature, as in Figs. 227, page 394 ; 228, page 395 ; 229, page 395 ; 230, page 395 ; and 231, page 396. If now we suppose that the styles of buildings consid- ered as wholes develop in an analogous way, it will lead us to infer that after a style has been determined by the appearances of huts constructed by the non-artistic man, there will come a time when it will be determined by appearances not constructed by men but perceived in nature; and that these appearances will be represented at first suggestively by way of association, and later imita- tively by way of comparison. Can this inference thus logically deducible from the analogies of the other arts be confirmed by facts ? Why can it not ? The simple truth seems to be that the changes from the style of building determined by the use of the horizontal line, the circular arch, and the pointed arch, were not caused merely by the necessities of construction, as declared by Helmholtz on page 378, nor merely by the appearances of straight, round, or pointed forms in cheaper human constructions as intimated on page 384, but also by the appearances of similar forms in nature. The exact effect given to the nave of a Gothic cathedral cannot be attributable merely to a development of methods of construction, nor to an imitation of cheaper buildings. It REPRESENTA TION OF MA TERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 399 is an indisputable fact that an avenue of trees with bend- ing branches often suggests to one who has seen such a nave a Gothic nave. Compare Fig. 44, page 85, with Fig. 43, page 84. If it does so in our age to the ordi- nary observer, why could it not have done so in the middle ages to the first Gothic builder? Those who deny that it could do this, or who ridicule, as they do, the statement that it might, would have difficulty in making most men believe that they could recognize any conclusion whatever attainable as a result of only logic or insight. Notice also Fig. 9, page 33. The representation causing us to connect the effect of a cathedral nave with that of an avenue of trees is of the same character as that which has been shown to be true of any representation of natural objects when first at- tempted. We merely associate the nave with the natural appearances which it merely suggests. It does not compare with these in the sense of being an exact imitation. The same principle may be exemplified, too, as applied to ex- teriors. Notice the general form of the temple in Fig. 232, page 400, and more minutely the details of the same style as enlarged in Fig. 233, page 401. Then look at the general effect of the Tissington spires represented in Fig. 32, page 67, and in connection with doing so, recall, as related to the second figure, the detailed effects of rocks stratified in layers with which all of us who have ever seen cliffs or precipices cannot fail to be familiar. After com- paring the art-products with such appearances of nature, is it difficult for any one who understands the natural workings of the mind to perceive a subtle connection be- tween the two ? Now, with this thought in mind, turning again to the other arts, notice that an increase in the imitation of 400 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE , natural appearances in the details has a tendency to in- crease the same in the treatment determining the gen- eral outlines also. As a rule the general plot, i. e., FIQ. 232.— TEMPLE AT BUDDHA GAYA INDIA. See pages 380, 399. the general outline, of a ballad has to do mainly with mere events ; the plot of an epic, which comes later. FIG. 233.— TEMPLE AT MUKTESWARA, INDIA. See pages 380, 399. 401 26 II 1 402 PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. with details concerning the persons engaged in these events ; the plot of a drama, which comes still later, with additional details representing the characters of these persons; and the plot of a descriptive — as distinguished from a narrative — poem, which comes yet more late, with added details representing their natural surround- ings. So in music. Only in later compositions, as in the oratorios of Haydn, or the operas of Wagner, is the plot unfolded by so analogous or imitative a use of harmony that the melody is reduced to recitative. So too in paint- ing and sculpture. A reproduction of the general outlines of form, as by the painters of the middle ages, was once considered all that was necessary. Now there are schools of criticism whose sole applied test of excellence seems to be accuracy in the delineation of the minutiae of appear- ance. Taken together, the facts indicated in the last few pages cannot fail to suggest to a logical mind the question whether, as in the cases of the other arts, there may not be developed in architecture, too, a style in which this representation, as applied not only to details but to gen- eral effects shall be more imitative than at present. This question was asked in “ Art in Theory ” ; and, as it seemed to present a new idea to certain critics, it was only what was to be expected from human nature, perhaps, for them to display a certain lack of integrity, intelligence, and in- sight in the way in which they greeted it. The lack of integrity was shown in the question’s being quoted out of its connection, in such a way as to be made to appear an expression of strong affirmation and advocacy, whereas it was merely, as it is here, an inquiry suggested by way of logical inference. The lack of intelligence was shown in the ignorance displayed of the way in which all architec- REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 403 ture starts, as indicated on page 316, as well as the way in which it develops, as indicated on page 39 7 ; and the lack of insight was shown in the failure to recall the beauty imparted to almost any natural appearance whatever, when reproduced in material like marble or bronze, which is more costly and difficult to work. If a man, for in- stance, who has seen the exquisite effects produced by marble carvings of bark and leaves, will look at Fig. 44, page 85, which is a reproduction of a scene not prepared for this volume, he will recognize that it is by no means an idle question to inquire whether some future architect may not conceive that columns and ceilings imitating these tree-trunks and leaves may be made more artistically beau- tiful than any possible modification of our present Gothic columns or such conventional groinings of the ceiling as may be noticed, for instance, in Fig. 234, page 404. Or look again at Fig. 175, page 325. What would a man be doing who should reproduce effects like this on the ex- terior of a stone building, but carrying out the first principles of architecture as manifested in the reproduc- tion of the framework in front of the cave represented in Fig. 171, page 315 ? Another consideration, too, is important here. Our age is characterized by a far wider use than ever before of metals. What can we find to do with our iron, copper, aluminium, and especially silver, is becoming a very prac- tical question. Now, if bronze be appropriate for the representations of sculpture, why should not metal of some similar character be appropriate for the uses of architecture — not only as suggested on page 330, but still more extensively ? Other things considered, who would not prefer to sit in a theatre the galleries and pillars of which in no possible circumstances could be burned ? 404 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. And who that is acquainted with the possibilities for ar- tistic representation in metal of this character can deny the opportunities afforded by it? It must be acknowledged, indeed, that, even supposing such attempts in stone or metal could be successful, it does not follow that architecture would necessarily be im- FIQ. 234.— AISLE OF HENRY VII. ’S CHAPEL, WESTMINSTER ABBEY, ENGLAND. See pages 380, 403, 405. proved by them. In the estimation of the majority of critics, the ornamental Greek architecture of the Corin- thian or composite styles does not rank as high as the plainer and earlier Doric ; nor the decorated or the florid Gothic as high as the plainer and earlier pointed style. REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 405 Compare the latter as in Figs. 41, page 81, and 43, page 84, with the former as in Figs. 144, page 205 ; 220, page 392 ; and 234, page 404. It must be acknowledged, too, that massiveness of effect, which is the chief characteris- tic imparting impressiveness and dignity to very large buildings, necessitates a predominating use of simple forms and straight lines, with which the kind of imitative representation of which we have been speaking might seriously interfere. See pages 66, 76, and 87. But to acknowledge these facts is not to prove inconceivable a method of development which the analogy of the other arts shows to be among the logical possibilities of archi- tecture ; nor even to prove that all attempts to carry out these possibilities would be unsuccessful. As applied to smaller buildings, no more minute attention to the details of carving would be needed in order to manifest imitative representation, than can now be seen in the famous Ros- lyn Chapel of Scotland ; and, whether really constructed of metal or not, the galleries of the Grand Opera House of Paris are certainly made to look as if they were. Of course, it is to be understood that, especially at the beginning of attempts of the kind indicated, it would re- quire superlative ability, probably genius of the highest order, to produce anything that would not appear con- fused and, in the worst sense of the term, inartistic. But is a genius of the highest order impossible in our day ? If not, why might he not make as great advances in archi- tecture as Wagner has made in music, and that, too, in exactly the same direction ? Throughout these essays it has been maintained that, under all the arts, are certain principles that successful products need to exemplify. As applied to building, for instance, it is not because the Gothic artist did not mix horizontal with arched coverings 40 6 PAINTING , SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. for windows that it should not be done to-day. Our artists should be actuated by a higher motive than imitation. What they should avoid is a violation of the principle exemplified by the Gothic builders, which principle is to put, wherever it is possible, like with like. It was pointed out in Chapter XVII. of “The Genesis of Art-Form ” that in strict accordance with this principle, as it is applied in all the other arts, there might be a legitimate style in which, from the lower story up, the acuteness of the arches in each story would be gradually increased ; also, that in these days of easy and extensive methods of transporta- tion, there might be a legitimate style, in which, through the use of stones or of other materials of different hues, the effects of harmonious coloring could be produced, even on exteriors ; and here again other ways are pointed out through which, as by a further use of metal and of imita- tive representation, other legitimate styles might be ren- dered possible. It is acknowledged that these and other suggestions like them tend to encourage architectural methods that are not conventional, traditional, nor even conservative. But merely because this is the case, the author does not propose to apologize for them. All the suggestions have been in line with the development of this art in accordance with its own germinal nature. That it might require genius to originate a successful practical expression of them, is no argument against them. The only valid arguments that can be urged against any form of criticism must be connected in some way with a proof that it is destructive and not constructive ; or that, if it be the latter, it becomes so by pointing to imitation and not to invention ; or, if to invention, only to methods of it which necessitate a departure from the first principles of the art rather than a development of them. REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 407 Before leaving this subject of imitative representation in architecture, it is well to notice one or two other facts. By recurring again to the method of construction in Figs. 171. P a § e 3 : 5 i 1 7 2 > P a ge 3 1 7 ; and 209, page 375, it will be recognized that the artistic interest in them is owing to the fact that a material less difficult to work is repre- sented in a material more difficult to work ; in other words, that a wooden original is imitated in stone. It is largely because of the skill needed in order to produce the imitation in this latter material, that it fulfils both of the requirements of art, in that it represents equally the artist himself and the external appearance which he re- calls. For this reason, this fact of representing a material less difficult to work in material which is more difficult, is usually considered essential to the highest artistic success. While it is deemed appropriate, for instance, to make a stone building represent, as in the case of the Greek tem- ple, noticed on page 376, a wooden building, it is not deemed so to make a wooden building represent a stone one, or to make a wooden balustrade look like a brass one, or stamped paper look like bronze. This conception is the one that has led to the use of the term sincerity. The term indicates one’s conception that the artist has employed material which really is what it seems to be, — wood, if it seem wood ; stone, if it seem stone ; iron, if it seem iron. Sincerity even discards, at times, the use of paint, on the ground that it conceals the genuine sub- stance. So, too, owing in part also to the intrinsic beauty of the graining of almost any kind of wood, the same prin- ciple has led to a method of finishing this so as to reveal its natural character. It is useless to do more than point out that, as illustrated in all these cases, sincerity is merely one way of applying the broader general principle that architecture should represent nature. 408 painting, sculpture, and architecture. Another application of the same principle is found in the way in which, not without reason, certain critics insist that in choosing the material for the construction of a building, preference should be given to that which is natural to the district in which the building is to stand. They say, for instance, that in red sandstone districts it should be built of red sandstone; in a gray granite dis- trict, of gray granite; or in forests intended to be left in a rustic state, of logs left in a rustic state, somewhat as in Fig- l 7 5> P a g e 3 2 5- The idea is that a building thus con- structed will appear to be a part of the surrounding land- scape, harmonizing with it in color, and, upon a nearer inspection, in material also. There is undoubtedly much in this, as applied to country residences. But, evidently, all the truth that is in it, is there because it involves one more way of making architecture represent nature. The purpose of this essay is now fulfilled. There are innumerable other ways, of course, which cannot be men- tioned here, in which the principle of representation can be applied not only in architecture, but in painting and sculpture. All these ways, however, must, in some re- gards, conform to the methods here indicated. The important matter is to have the general truth with refer- ence to the subject understood and accepted. In practical life there is little trouble about conduct, in case a man starts with correct moral principles. In art-work there is an almost equal diminution of trouble, in case he starts with correct aesthetic principles. INDEX. In a few cases, the subjects below are treated on the pages indicated merely through a reference by number to the figure illustrating them. Abdomen, as representative, no, 116, 123, 142, 162 ; Discomfort in, 142, 162. Abnormal. See Normal. Abruptness, 55. See Gradation. Academic Line versus naturalistic, 294-296. Academy of Music, Philadelphia, 204. Accent of voice and line, 16, 17, 18, 39, 41, 57, 59. See Light and Shade. Acceptance as expressed in counte- nance, 186. Acropolis, Athens, 375, 376, 380, 386, 387, 397, 407. Acroterium and Gutter, /Egina, 389, 393, 398. Activity, represented by length, 108 ; Lines illustrating, 62, 64, 72, 145. See Motive Temperament. Adding Insult to Injury, picture, 151, 152, 156, 263. Adoration of the Magi, picture, 72, 73, 174, 248, 263, 276. zEgina, Temple of, 380, 387, 389, 393, 396, 398- Aerial perspective, 206, 307-309. ^Esthetic, 2 ; effects in buildings, 86, 341, 363, 364, 366. zEsthetically, 323. Affectation, Anglo-Saxon, 234. Africa, Hottentot Krall in, 80, 377, 379, 384 ; Kaffir Station in, 377, 378, 381, 384 ; Negro Huts in, 80, 378, 383, 384. Age of Reformation, 248, Aggressive movements, 16S, 169, 171. Aggrieved look in countenance, 177. Agrigentum, Giants of Temple of, .395, 396, 398. Aim, Elevation of, as represented in outline, 68 ; determining rank of art-work, 259, 260. Alexander, 108. Allegorical, painting, 248, 272, 274 ; sculpture, 286. Amazement expressed in counte- nance, 184. Ambition expressed in countenance, 173, 174, 1S6. American, accent, ix., x. ; church, 327, 32S, 330, 355 ; painters, 292 ; streets, 334, 360, 361, 364-367 ; type of face, toi. Amiable suspicion expressed in countenance, 171, 186. Antefix of Marble, rEgina, 389, 398 Ananias, Death of, picture, 61, 62 77, 79, 136, 137, HO, 145, 147, 156, 158, 161, 167, 170, 177, 178, 226, 287. Ancient Mariner, The, 244. Angelo, M., 47, 50, 75, 298, 301, 302. Angles, 17 ; representation by, 21, 86-87, 8g, go. Angular, Representation by, argu- mentative movements, 62, 134, 135- Angularity of shape as representa- tive, 55-87, 89. Animal painting and significance, 262, 263. 409 410 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Apollo Belvedere, 62, 138, 147, 149, 151, 224, 281 ; Sauroctonos, 48, 49, 61, 76, 136, 223, 2S1 ; Stro- ganoff, 224. Appearances, Natural, in Architec- ture, 2, 32, 78-87, 312-321, 372- 408 ; in art, 2, 4, 6 ; in metaphor and simile, 243, 244 ; in painting, 63-78, 226-236, 291-310 ; in building material for a locality, 408 ; in colors and dyes, 198 ; how representing thought, 3, 63-78. Apprehension represented in color, 207, 208. Apprehensive, The, expressed in countenance, with astonishment, 179, 185-190 ; with attention, 173, 1 75 J with grief, 173, 183, 184, 187. Arch, Arches, 8, 327 ; representative of nature, 32, 82, 84, 85, 379-384, 398, 399, 403 ; round and pointed, 378 ; causing styles, 78, 380-385. Architectural features, Development of, 52, 318, 319, 323, 333, 344, 360-408. Architecture and Painting, Lectures on, 86. Architecture, appealing to emotions, 78, 86, 87 ; as memorial and monu- mental, 356, 357 ; as representative of dignity, 332, 356, 366, 405 ; of man and nature, 316, 317, 320, 321, 373) 374 J °f material or natural surroundings, 2, 32, 78-87, 312- 321, 372-408 ; of mind, 28-38, 322-371 ; of mind and nature, 28-38, 41 ; of strength or weak- ness, 25, 26, 42, 52, 54, 355, 405 I of thoughts and emotions, 321 ; begins earlier and develops later than painting and sculpture, 313 ; cheap ornamentation in, 355, 357, 37 1 J color in, 203-207, 210, 406 ; compared with music, 28-32, 311-314, 373 ; contrasted with poetry, painting, and sculpture, 28-33, 311-314, 373 I conven- tional, 388, 406 ; developed from cave decoration, 315-317 ; from hut- and tent-building, 373-378 ; from imitating wood in stone, 3I5-3I7, 375, 376, 378, 407, 408 ; from picturesque and statuesque conception, 314, 316 ; from re- quirements of construction, 378 — 3S4 ; fundamental principle in, 406; handling in, 51-54; imita- tion in, 312-318, 372-378 ; lines in, 78-87 ; originality in, 406 ; rank of styles in, 404, 405 ; regu- larity in, 95 ; representation in, 311-321 ; representation of lines in, 78-87 ; shadows in, 52, 54 ; sky-line in, 362-371 ; street, 362- 371 ; styles, 78, 367, 379-384 ; uni- formity in color, 363 ; variety of color, 406. See Corinthian, Davidian, Doric, Egyptian, Gothic, Greco-Roman, Greek, Ionic, Romanesque. Arms, as bent in gestures, 138, 140; as expressive, 123, 148-164. Arrangement, 76. Arrogance as expressed in counte- nance, 100. Art, and Nature, different, 257 ; and writing, separated in Egypt, 221, in Greece, 222. Art for Art’s Sake, the book, 292 ; the principle, 291. Art-Idea, book, 282. Art in Theory, book, iii., v., viii. , 1, 3, 10, ir, 13, 23, 26, 30, 101, 215, 216, 217, 228, 237, 240, 245, 288, 291, 314, 317, 354, 356, 372, 402, Artist as represented, in animal painting, 262, 263 ; in architec- ture, 316, 317, 320; in fruit paint- ing, 257 ; in landscapes, 259-262 ; in portraits, 264—269; in sculpture, 266, 267 ; in symbolic painting, 272. Artist’s point of view should be understood, 292. Art, its Laws and Reasons for them, book, 76, 266. Arts, as derived from human forms of expression, 23. Aspiration as represented by upward lines and length of body, 68, 73, 74, 84, 108. INDEX. 411 Association, representation by, 4— 13, 18, 27, 28, 32, 37, 51, 214, 385, 386, 38S, 398, 399 ; as an element of beauty, 26 : as con- trasted with comparison in repre- sentation, 4-9, 385-402 ; in archi- tecture, 385, 386, 388, 398, 399. Assumption, The, 46. Assyrian architecture, 386, 396. Astonished horror as expressed in countenance, 175, 187, 188. Astonishment, 179, 185, igo ; and attention, 187, 188. Athena of the Capitol, 76, 224, 281. Attack, An, expressed in pose, 62, 65, 145, 167, 171. Attention, as expressed in counte- nance, with astonishment, 186, 187 ; apprehensive, 173, 175 ; thoughtful, 172, 187, 190 ; uncon- fiding, 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185 ; unconvinced, 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185, 186, 187. Audible representation, 3, 14-23. Audience Hall, 336. Aurora, picture, 61, 71, 72, 136, 265, 272. Australian, chiefs’ houses, 80, 374- 376, 386, 397; University at Sid- ney, 84, 324, 349, 351, 352, 355, 359. 36o. 362, 369, 380. Author and Critics, picture, 62, 63, 151, 152, 156, 172, 173. 177- Avenue of Palms at Rio, 32, 73, 84, 85. 399. 403. Awe, as represented in color, 208, 209. Awkward pose, 61, 133. Bacchus, early dignity of, 225. Background, 28, 38. Backward Movement, 129, 148-164, 167, 175-180. Balance, the art method, 93, 95, 170; in face, 99. Balustrade, as representative of a flat roof, 360, 362. Baptistry of Florence, Relief on, 247, 248, 286, 302. Barnes, A., 115, 117, 118, 124, 182. Barry, 50, 77. Barton, B., 57- Barye, 302. Battle, colors in, 200, 210. Baudelaire, vii. Bay window, 327. Beardsley, A., 236. Beauty, association an element of, 26 ; definition of, 26 ; in human shape, 26 ; in countenance, 97, 103 ; its connection with regu- larity, 97-103. Bedford Building, Boston, 323, 370, 371, 380. Bedouin, x. Beggar Boys, picture, 202. Belfry as representative, 357. Bellini, 46. Benediction, as representative, 161. Berlin, Schiller Platz, 354, 357, 380 ; Unter den Linden, 344, 360, 364. Beverley Minster, 32, 82, 84, 380, 388, 399, 405. Black, 207-210 ; marble, 203. Blake, 301. Blanc, C., 46, 73, 74, 292. Blue, 195, 197, 198, 200, 209, 210, 220. Blue Boy, The, 264. Blue veins, 202. Body, Human, as representing emo- tion and thought, 60-62, 106-192 , excitability, 108, m ; discomfort; 142, 162; gracefulness, 61, 133 ; matter under control of mind, 104, 105 ; mind under constraint, 61, 133 ; persistence, 114, 118, 122; persuasion, 62 ; reflection, 126— 137, 142-149, 156, 162, 167, 190; rejection, 158; repose, 69, 70; self-consciousness, 61 ; surprise, 130, 163, 171 ; threatening, 62, 65, 145, 167, 171, 172, 183 ; un- consciousness, 61, 133 ; uncon- strained, the, 61, 129, 133 ; by length, 61, 108, log, 113, 137, 145, 152 ; by movement, aggressive, backward, awkward, graceful, etc., 61, 62, 108, 132-189; by shape, 106-124 1 by size, 168 ; representative effects of parts of the body, 123, 124, 142 ; i. e., ab- domen, no, 116, 123, 142, 162 ; breast, 127, 128, 142, 148 ; elbows, 4 12 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , 4vV/> ARCHITECTURE. 123; extremities, m-113, 123; eyebrows, 98, 100, 112, 119, 172, 181, 184, 185, 187, 188; eyes, 115, 121, 124, 166, 168, 170-190; feet, 112, 123, 124, 134, 145, 146, 166, 188; fingers, 151, 155— 163; forehead, 98, 99, 102, 119, 120, 124, 129, 156, 168, 169, 171, 182, 184, 188 ; hand, x, xi, 112, 155-161; head, 147-166; hips, 123, 138, 142, 144, 147 ; jaw, 116, 124, 167; knee, 145, 146; legs, 123, 145, 146 ; limbs, 21, 24, 25 ; mouth, 112, 1 1 5-118, 181-185, 189 ; nose and nostrils, 98-102, 112, 120, 121, 124, 129, 181, 1 S3— 185, 188, 189 ; palm, 123, 124, 156, 161, 181 ; shoulders, 123, 148; torso, no, 123, 126, 142, 144, 145, 147 ; temperaments and shapes of, 108-114. See Counte- nance. Bol, 272. Bonaparte, 115-120, 124, 169, 177, 179- Book of the Dead, 222. Borderland, 237. Boulevard St. Michael, 84, 344, 345, 363, 364- Boy Surprised, 130, 163, 171. Breadth, representative of vitality in the hand, 120-122 ; face, 115, 116; form, 108-114; movement, T51 ; as in facial expression, 181 ; in the fist, 155. Breast, as expressive, 127, 128, 142, 148. Breton, J., 202, 307. Bright colors, 22, 195-212 ; light, 199, 202. Bronze, 203, 403. Brow, as expressive, eye-, 171, 173, 174, 177, 179; forehead, 156. Brown, M. T., 107. Browning, 58. Buddha Gaya Temple, 380, 399, 400. Building, as expressive of thought, 337. See Architecture. Buoyant, The, as represented by curves, 65, 73. Buttresses, 323, 342, 349. Byron, 284. Byzantine, 36, 78. Cabanel, 295. Cain, statue, 156-15S, 174, 281. Callimachus, 387. Calmness, as expressed in counte- nance, 189. Canova, 50, 286. Cantilever Bridge, as representative of reflection, 20. Capital, of column, 386, 387 ; at Denderah, 395, 396, 398 ; com- posite, 380 ; Corinthian, 32, 34, 380, 387, 390, 394, 396 ; Doric, 380, 387-389 ; Egyptian, 32, 34, 395, 398 ; Ionic, 380, 388, 389 ; from Cathedral at Rheims, 390, 395. 396, 398 ; from Persepolis, Persia, 394, 398 ; Gothic, 390 ; Romanesque, 390. Caractacus, 57. Caravaggio, 169, 271. Card Players, picture, 169, 172, 270, 271. Carving, earliest, 215, 216. Castellated, 360, 361. Castle, Mediaeval, 360. Cathedral, Cologne, 35, 52, 78, 81, 82, 84, 86, 323, 380, 405 ; color in a, 203, 204 ; Ely, 78, 380, 390, 392, 405 ; Gothic, 382 ; New York, 204 ; Proposed, 334, 335, 378, 380; San Vitale, 380, 390, 39c ; St. Isaac’s, 34-36, 38, 42, 52, 78, 82, 352, 353, 356, 380; St. Mark’s, 36-38, 42, 52, 78, 82, 86, 380 ; St. Sophia, 78, 80, 82, 86, 380 ; Wells, 203, 205, 380, 405. Cave, Primitive architectural decora- tion of, 315-317, 374-376, 387. 388 ; of Elephanta, 315, 316, 375, 376, 389- Ceiling, 207, 327-331. Central- Point, 90. Century Company, 236. Cerebro-spinal nerves, 114, 127. Chancel, 336. Chapel, Henry VII., 380, 403-405. Chase, 308. Cheap, architectural ornamentation, 355-357, 371, 407; in spires or pinnacles, 355-357, 37 1- INDEX. 413 Cheeks, as expressive, 191. Chenonceau Chateau, 346-348, 352, 378 . Chest, as expressive, 114. See Breast. Chiaroscuro, 17. See Light and Shade. Chicago, Columbian Exhibition, 84, 270 ; Court of Honor, etc., 363- 365, 380 ; Douglas Park Univer- sity. 337 ; University of, 369,380. Chierici, G., 152. Childe Harold, 2S4. Chin, as expressive, 98, 102, 112, 118, 129, 156, 168, 171-176, 179. China, Art of, 232, 236. Chinese, 218 ; palace at Pekin, 376, 377 - Chodowieck, D., 61. Christianity, Early, and Art, 226. Church, 336, 357 ; American, 327, 328, 330, 355 ; color in, 203, 204; support and decoration of roof and ceiling, 329, 330, 332, 334. Circle, as representative, 89, go, 97. Circular, 92. See Curves. Classic Line, 294-296. Claude, 260, 261. Climax, Rhetorical, 55. Clock tower, as representative, 357. Closing Gesture, correlated as made with hands to facial expression, 182, 183, 185 ; downward, 134, 136, 156, 158-160 ; finger, 134, 136, 156, 158-161 ; form of, 140; sideward, 130, 132, 140, 156-158; upward, 130, 132, 145, 152, 1 56— 161. Cold colors as representative, 195- 212. Coleridge, 244. Colleges, Architecture in, 367—369. Collier, 218. Cologne Cathedral, 35, 52, 78, 81, 82, 84, 86, 233, 3S0, 405 ; gargoyle on, 393, 394, 398. Color, 18, ig, 22, 95 ; as representa- tive of mental conceptions, 192- 212 ; of material surroundings, 300-310 ; of various definite ideas, like apprehension, 207, 20S ; awe, 208, 209 ; cosiness, 207 ; delicacy, 203 ; depression, 194 ; dignity, 199, 202, 203 ; distance and nearnesss, 206, 207, 294, 295, 307-309 ; ex- hilaration, 210 ; gayety, 199, 204 ; ghastliness, 209, 211 ; grandeur, 202, 207 ; grossness, 202 ; horror, 208, 209 ; hostility. 208 ; jovous- ness, 204 ; largeness, 207 ; life, 198, 309 ; massiveness, 206 ; move- ment, 309 ; nature, 197, 198 ; per- plexity, 194, 208 ; refinement, 203 ; seriousness, iqg, 202, 203 ; tex- ture, 306, 307 ; correlated to sound, T95-198, 201 ; effects of, in countenance, 202, 211 ; in aerial perspective, 206, 307, 308 ; in architecture, 203-207, 363, 406 ; in early painting, 302, 303 ; in nature, 291-310 ; in sculpture, 203, 280 ; natural and man-made, 198 ; related to light and shade, iS, 193-195 ; representative effects of black, 207-210; bright, 22, 195- 212 ; bright and warm, 195, 196 : cold, 195-212 ; contrast of, 199, 204, 207-209, 294, 296, 298, 304, 306, 308 ; dark, 22, 195-212 ; dark and cold, 195, 196 ; gray, 200, 203, 207; green, 195-198, 209, 210; mixed, 207-21 1 ; orange, 195, 197, 198, 209, 210 ; red, 195, 197, 198, 200, 20 1, 209, 210; white, 203, 204, 207, 210, 211 ; yellow, 195, 197, 198, 200, 210, 220. Color Exhibition, Cover of Water, 232, 233. Columbia College, 367. Columbian Exhibition. See Chicago. Columns, 8, 9, 26, 32, 86, 403. See Pillars. Comic facial effects, igo, 191. Cornin’ thro’ the Rye, ix. Communication, 186 ; not the end of art, 216-221. Comparison, representation by, 4, 6-13, 28, 32, 37, 214, 385, 386, 398 ; contrasted with association in representation, 4-9, 385-402 ; in architecture, 385, 3S6, 398 ; re- lation to imitation, 6, 8, 9, 13. Complex, 68, 82. Complicated, 68. 414 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Composite capital, 380 ; style, rank of, 404. Compound stress, in elocution, 16. Concentration of thought as ex- pressed in the countenance, 188. Conceptions, Mental, as represented in art, 226 ; in architecture, 28-38, 41, 322-371 ; in painting and sculp- ture, 226, 239-279, 286-290. See Mental, Mentality, Mind. Confidence, as expressed in counte- nance, 172, 173 ; satisfied, 177. Constrained, 61, 133. Constructive idea, as representative, 322, 323, 326, 327, 336 ; in archi- tecture, 322-334. Contempt as expressed in counte- nance, 100, 177. Contempt and Discontent as ex- pressed in countenance, 181, 183, 185, 188, 190. Contemptuous Rage as expressed in countenance, 175, 176, 178, 1 8 1 , 182, 183, 186, 189. Contour, 98. Contrast, Effect of distance on, 91, 206, 294, 296-298, 304, 306, 308 ; of color, 199, 202, 207-209, 294, 296, 298, 304, 306, 308. Contrition as expressed in counte- nance, 186. Conventional, architecture, 406 ; as significant, 212 ; shapes, 226, 388, 390- Conventionalism, 222, 225. Convex, 77. Corbel from Cathedral of Rheims, 38, 390, 396, 398. Corinthian, Capital, 32, 34, 380, 387, 394, 396, 398 ; style, rank of, 404- Cornice, 349, 360. Corot, 259, 295, 296, 301. Correspondence, Principle of, 4, 99, US- Costly material in architecture should represent less costly, 375 — 377, 407. Cottage and Domestic Architecture, Old, book, 337. Cottages as representative, 54, 337— ^ 342, 358, 359- Countenance, beauty of, 97-103 ; color effects in, 202, 2>i ; indi- viduality necessary in, 103 ; regu- larity of, 101-104 ; representation in, of acceptance, 186 ; amaze- ment, 184; ambition, 173, 174, 186; amiable suspicion, 171, 177; apprehensive astonishment, 179, 185-190; apprehensive attention, 173, 175 ; apprehensive grief, 173, 177. 183, 1S4, 190; arrogance, 100 ; astonished horror, 185, 186, 188 ; astonishment, 179, 187, 190 ; attention with astonishment, 186, 187 ; with apprehension, 173, 174; thoughtful, 172, 186, 190; uncon- fiding, 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185 ; unconvinced, 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185-187 ; of being aggrieved, 177; calmness, 189; concentration of thought, 188 ; confidence, 172, 173, 177 ; con- tempt, 100, 177 ; with discontent, 181, 183, 185, 188, 190; con- temptuous rage, 175, 176, 178, 181, 182, 183, 186, 189 ; credulity, 167, 168, 171, 174; crying, 184; curiosity, 183, 184, 187 ; disap- pointed desire, 174, 175, 184, 185, 186; despair, 175, 176, 185; dis- content, 121, 183, 185, 188 ; dis- dain, 189 ; displeasure, 183 ; doubt, 172 ; eagerness, 169 ; egotism, 177 ; expectancy, 187 ; faith, 178, 179 ; faith, hope, and love, 147-149, 151, 162, 169 ; fear, 175, 185, 186, 188, 190 ; fear and rage, 175, 181, 184, 186, 189 ; force, 171 ; fright, 175, 176, 189 ; gravity, 183 ; ha- tred, xoo ; hopelessness, 173, 174, 186; horror, 175, 185, 186, 188 ; impudence, 167, 177, 178 ; inter- rogation, 171, 172 ; laughter and gayety, 100, 183, 184, 185, 187, 189, 191 ; malice, 100, 177, 185 ; perplexity, 172, 173; pride, 100; (unconfiding), 167, 176, 177 ; ques- tioning, 171, 172 ; rage and fear, 174, J 75. 181 ; religious rapture, 174, 175, 179 ; reflection, 182, 184- 186, 188 ; rejection, 183, 189 ; rapture, 174, 175, 179 ; sadness, 189 ; scheming, 1 71 ; scolding, 100 ; INDEX. 415 seriousness, 1S6, 202, 203 ; smil- ing, 100, 183, 1S4 ; sneer, 100; solicitude, 186 ; sorrow, 173 ; stub- bornness, 176 ; submission, 174 ; superiority, 178 ; surprise, 171, 175, 186, 187 ; suspicion, amiable, 171, 186; terror, 173, 183-186, 188 ; threatening, 166, 167, 169, 171, 173, 183 ; triumph, 179 ; un- amiable suspicion, 171, 177 ; un- confiding pride, 167, 176, 177. Court of Honor. See Chicago. Crane, W., 41, 43, 45, 64, 69, 293. Credulity as expressed in counte- nance, 167, 168, 171, 174. Criticism, constructive and destruc- tive, 406 ; valid arguments against a system of, 406. Crucifixion, The, 202. Crying as expressed in countenance, 1S4. Cupola, 331, 332, 355, 357. Curiosity as expressed in counte- nance, 183, 184, 187. Curvature of contour, 93. Curves, compound, in pose and ges- ture, 138, 140 ; representative, 17, 21. 5 5—87, 90, 1 10 ; of buoyancy, 65, 74; freedom, 61, 65; 133; grace, 61, 133 ; growth, 82, 87 ; nature, 80, 82. Dancing Movements, 130, 135, 136, 142. Dante, vi, 209. Dark colors, 22, 195-212 ; and cold, 195, 196. Darwin, 107. Daubigny, 301, 308. Davidian Architecture, 380. Da Vinci, 46. Decamps, 308. Decorated Gothic, 380, 390 ; rank of, 404. Decorative Art, 211. Degeneration, vi. Delicacy, representation of, 44. Delivery of Keys to St. Peter, 77. Delphi, 224. Delsarte, 128, 130, 132, 133, 142. De’ Medici, Giuliano, Tomb of, 50, 301, 302. De Mortillet, A. and G., 215. Denderah, Capital at, 395, 396, 398. Denner, B., 226, 307. Depression as represented in color, 194- Descent from the Cross, The, 202, 276, 277, 287. Descriptive gesture, closing, 1 56- 162 ; opening, 138, 151, 159, 160; poetry, 246. Desire, disappointed, as expressed in countenance, 174, 175, 184-186. Despair as expressed in countenance, 175, 176, 185. Destruction of Jerusalem, 248, 250, 265, 272. De Superville’s Diagrams, 189. Detaille, 272, 275. Details, effects of distance on, 91, 206, 294, 296, 298, 304, 307, 308; growth of imitation of, 385-402 ; in all the arts, 385, 386, 399-401 ; in architecture, 385-402 ; shape of hand indicating attention to, 122. Diagrams of Duval, 189 ; of De Superville, 189. Diana a la Biche, 224. Dias, 301. Dignified as expressed in outline, 37, 73. 112, 114. Dignity, 37, 66, 84, 149 ; in archi- tecture, 332, 356, 366 ; in color, 199, 202, 203. Dignity and Impudence, 262, 263. Direction of Lines, 56, 74. See Angles, Curves, Lines. Discontent as expressed in counte- nance, 121, 183, 188. Disdain as expressed in countenance, 189. Displeasure, as expressed in counte- nance, 183. Distance, 28, 34, 37, 91 ; effects on magnitude, light, contrast, and detail, illustrated, gi, 206, 294, 296-298, 304, 307, 308 ; on per- spective in color, 206, 207, 294, 2 95. 307-309 ! in drawing, 293, 294, 298 ; in sculpture, 302. Distinctness of line and outline, 295 -298. 416 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Doggett, 46, 73. Dome, as representative, 38, 352- 354 , 356, 357 , 373 ; false, 354, 355 . Domestic architecture aud cold colors, 203-205. Doors, 342, 349. Doorway, 20. Dore, G., 209. Doric Greek style, 380, 387-389, 404. Dou, 307. Doubt as expressed in countenance, 172. Douglas Park University, Chicago, 337 - Downward, gesture, 152-163; glance of eye, 171, 172, 178. Drapery, 303, 306. Drawing as representing mental states, 58-60. Dream, Detaille’s, 272, 275 ; of Jacob, 272. Dresden Gallery, 260. Drowning Man, 128, 129. Dupre, G., 157. Duration, 15, iS, 37, 39. Duval's Diagrams of Facial Expres- sion, iSg. Dying Gladiator, Gaul, or Galatian, 282, 283. Eagerness as expressed in pose and countenance, 169, Ear, proportionately divided, 90, 97, 98, 124 ; parallel to nose, 98. Easter Advertisement, Gorham Com- pany, 235, 236. Egotistic as expressed in pose and countenance, 177. Egypt, 218, 389. Egyptian, ancient face, 203, 221, 222; art, 220-222; buildings, 386; capital, 32, _ 34, 386, 394, 398 ; hieraco sphinx, 393, 398 ; paint- ings, 304 ; picture from “ Book of the Dead,” 219, 22r, 222; temple, 394, 396, 398 ; writing 219, 221. Ejaculations as leading to language, 4-6. Elbows, as expressive, 148 ; as bent in questions, 138, 140. Elements of Art Criticism, 386. Elephanta, Cave at, 315-317, 375, 376 , 389. 397 . 403, 407 - Elevation of Soul as represented by upward lines, 68, 84. Elizabethan Gothic, 380. Ely Cathedral, Choir of, 78, 380, 390, 392, 405. Emotional, 121. Emotions, as represented in archi- tecture, 78, 82, 86; in art, 1, 2, 12, 13, 23, 214, 215, 240 ; by lines, 59-61, 66, 68, 73, 78, 82, 86; in painting of animals, 262, 263 ; of landscapes, 259-262 ; of portraits, 268, 269; through variety of color, 194, 195, 200, 208, 209. Emotive, effect of regularity, 96 ; excitation expressed in color, 194, 200, 208, 209 ; expression in ges- ture and face, 129, 130, 136-138 ; 140, 142, 145, 169, 170, 180-182, 191 ; tendency in art, n-13, 19- 22, 59-61, 66, 82, 94 ; in bodily expression, 113, 114, 118, 123 ; why connected with moral ex- pression, 113, 1 14 ; why its seat in arms, 136 ; in breast, r27, 128. Emphasis, as imparted by shading, 17 - Encyclopaedia of Architecture, 384. Energy, mental and material, as represented in arts of sight, ig, 42, 44, 46-56, 59. See Strength. England, Art in, 243. English Literature, History of, 218. Englishman's intonations, ix. Entablature, Architecture of, 78, 84, 86, 378-382. Excitability, how represented in body, 108, in. Excitation by color, 194, 200, 208, 209. Exeter Hall, 326, 327, 330, 336. Exhibition. See Chicago. Expectancy as expressed in counte- nance, 187. Explanations, function of, in paint- ings and statues, 251, 254, 286- 290. Expression, differing in each art, 30, 311-314 ; emotive, 11-13, 19-22, 59, 60, 61, 66, 82, 94, 127-130, INDEX. 417 136-138, 140, 142, 145, 14S ; facial, determined by contrast, 168 ; in gesture by one’s concep- tions, 154, 168 ; in men and ani- mals, 107 ; instinctive, 4, 6-13, 19-21, 58, 59, 60, 62, 63, 72, 94, 126-137, 142-149, 166, 214 ; hu- man, as developed in art, 23 ; reflective, 6-13, 19-21, 59,61, 62, 65. 66, 73, 82, 94, 95, 133, 134, 137, 142, 175, 198 ; responsive, 30, 311-314; subjective, 30, 311- 314 ; sustained and unsustained, 30, 311-314. See Architecture, Body, Color, Countenance, Lines, Painting, and Sculpture. Extension, 14, 15. Extraneous force represented by outlines, 66, 72. Extremities of body as representa- tive, m-113, 123. Eye, divided proportionately, 90, 97, 98. Eyebrows, 98, 100, 112, 119, 172, 181, 184, 1S5, 187, 188. Eyes, 115-121, 124, 166, 168. 170— igo ; closed or open, 1S6— 1S8. Face, human, American type of, 101 ; divided proportionately, 90, 96-98 ; front, go, 97, 98, 101-103 ; Greek type of, 100, 10 1 ; regular- ity of, 89, 98-103; side, 90, 97, 98 ; significance of movements of, 165-171 ; of different parts of, 1 15-121. Facial Expression, 165-191. See Countenance. Fairies’ Song, 57. Faith as expressed in countenance, 178, 179. Faith, Hope, and Love as expressed in countenance, 147-149, 151, 162, 169. Farnese Hercules, 20, 21, 24, 26, 281. Farragut, 266. Farrar, 5. Fawn of Praxiteles, 61, 144, 147, 282. Fear as expressed in countenance, 179, 185, 186, 188, 190. Fear and Rage as expressed in coun- tenance, 175, 181, 184, 186, 189. Feeling, mental, as represented in art, 19, 46-48 ; in architecture, 317, 321. See Emotions and Emotive. Feet, expression, by 112, 123, 134, 145, 146. Figure, human, divided proportion- ately, go, 96-98 ; painting, 263- 278 ; significance of different parts of body, 115-130. Figures carved in stone age, 215, 216. Fine Art, 225, 315 ; Pictures, 93. Fingers, correspondence between their gestures and those of face, 166, 1S1, 182, 1S5, 188 ; gestures with, 151, 155-163 ; shape of, 121, 122, 124. First Communion, The, 202 ; Prin- ciples, 127. Fist gestures, 134, 155, 15b; corre- spondence of, to face gestures, 181, 183, 1S5. Fiaubert, G., vii. Flaxman, 280. Florence, Relief from Baptistry of, 247, 24S, 286, 302 ; Strozzi Palace at, 346, 347, 359, 360. Flower-painting, 255-258. Flowers for the Hospital, picture, 268. Flying Mercury, 21, 25, 26, 62, 73, _ 135, 152. Force, as represented in lines, 15, 18, 39, 42 ; in the countenance, 171 . Foreground, 28, 37. Forehead, 98, 99, 102, 119, 120, 124, 129, 156, 168, 169, 171, 182, 184, 188. Foreshortening, 298. Form versus Significance, vi, vii, 221-290. Fortuny, 304, 307. Forward movements of body as representative, 129, 148-164, 166, 167, 169, 174. Foundations, 38, 322, 323, 342. Fowler, O. S., 108, 109, ill, 112, 1 14. 4 lS PAINTING, SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Framework of lines, for pictures, 73, 89, 90, 95-103 ; representing both natural and mental require- ments, 94. France, Art in, vi, 243. Freedom, 61, 65, 133. Frieze of Parthenon, 223, 225, 281, 282. Frightful as expressed in counte- nance, 173, 177. Fromentin, 300, 308. Fruit-painting, 256—258. Fussy, The, 356. Gable, 334, 362, 363. Gainsborough, 264. Galatian Dying, 282, 283. Galileo, Face of, 173, 174. Galway, Queen’s College, 84, 349, 350, 355 - 359 , 360, 380. Gargoyle, 393, 394, 398. Gaul Dying, 282, 283. Gautier, T., vi. Gayety, as represented in counte- nance, 183, 184, 187, 189, 191 ; in color, 199, 204. General Elliot, Portrait of, 266. Genesis of Art-Form, The, 56, go, 92, 93, 224, 306, 327, 406. Genre painting, 270-272. Germany, Art in, 243 ; law regulat- ing height of buildings, 366. Gerome, 31, 274, 287, 295. See Pollice Verso. Gestures, 2, 107 ; away from body and toward it, 162-164 ; closing, 130, 132, 134, 136, 152, 156-161; compound curve in, 138-140 ; cor- respondence between hand and face, 166, 181, 182, 185-188 ; meaning of, x, xi, 125-189 ; fingers, 151, 156-163, 166 ; fist, 134, 155, 156 ; opening, 138, 1 5 1 , 159, 160, 161, 182, 185-188 ; place where struck sideward, upward, or downward, 150-154 ; shape of hand in, 1 5 5— 161 . Ghent, Street in, 344, 346, 362, 380. Ghiberti, I,., 248. Giants from Temple of Agrigentum, 395 , 396 , 398 . Giovanni da Bologna, 21. Girlhood of the Virgin Mary, 229, 230, 252, 295. Giuliano de’ Medici, Tomb of, 50, 301, 302. Gladiator Dying, 282, 283. Goldsmith, Face of, 109, 113, 115, 117, 119, 124, 187. Gorham Manufacturing Co., 235, 236. Gossip, 304. Gothic Architecture, 8, 9, 34, 35, 52, 68, 78, 86, 349, 369, 378-384 ; capitals, 390, 395, 396 ; cathedrals, 226, 382, 398, 399 (see Cathe- drals) ; decorated, 380, 390, 404, 405 ; Elizabethan, 380 ; ^motive effects of, 86, 87 ; fitted for groups of buildings, 367, 369 ; florid, 380, 404, 405 ; nave and trees, 398, 399 ; perpendicular, 380 ; pillars, 388 ; pointed, 380-384, 404, 405 ; styles of, 380-384 ; rank of styles, 404, 405 ; Tudor, 380. Graceful, as expressed by surfaces, 49 ; by curves, 61, 133. Gradation, in line, 15-18, 22, 39, 42 ; in color, 306 ; in outlines, 55 - 87 . Grammar of Painting and Engrav- ing, 46, 73, 292. Grand style in Greek sculpture, 281. Granet, F. M., 304. Granite, 203. Grave, as expressed in line, 74 ; in the countenance, 183. Gray color as representative, 200, 203, 207. Greco-Roman Architecture, 34, 36. Greek, architecture, 8, 9, 34-36, 78, 86, 378-384. 395-398,, 404, 405; art separate from writing, 222, 223 ; composite capitals and style, 380, 404 ; conventional forms in, 394 ; Corinthian capitals and style, 52, 34, 380, 387, 394, 398, 404; Doric capitals and style, 380, 387, 389, 393,404; groups of buildings, 367, 369 ; groups of statues, 223, INDEX. 419 224 ; Ionic capitals and style, 380, 388, 389 ; rank of architectural styles, 404; sculpture, 76, 224, 225, 281-284 i temples, 52 ; type of face, 100, 101 Greeks, 57. Green color as representative, 195, 197, 198, 209, 210. Greuze, 47. Grief, apprehensive, as expressed in countenance, 173, 183, 184, 189, 190. Groups, in buildings, 367, 369 ; in statues, 223, 224. Growth, appearance and effects of, 65, 82. Guido, 71, 265, 272. Gutters, 359, 360. Guttural, elocutionary tone, 197, 208, 209. Gwilt, 384. Hals, 307. Hall of Mechanical Arts, Columbian Exhibition, 363. Hand, as bent in gesture, 138-140 ; as used in gesture, 149-164 ; cor- respondence between its gestures and facial expression, 166, 181, 182, 185-188 ; representation by natural shape, 121-124 ; assumed shape, 112, 155-161. See Fingers, Fist, and Gestures. Handbook, of Drawing, 97 ; to the Egyptian Court, 220. Handling or touch, 15, 16, 19, 21, 42-54 ; in architecture, 51-54 ; in painting, 42-48 ; in sculpture, 48- 5 i- Harper Brothers, 236. Hatred as expressed in countenance, too. Haydn, 402. Head, meaning of movements of, 147, 148, 166-189 ; in connection with facial expression, 166-178 ; phrenologically divided, 115-121, 124, 167 ; significance of different parts of, 115-121. Heaviness, Representation of, 25, 26, 37- Height, Effect of, lessened by large- ness of environment, 32; by width, 34, 35 ; representing high rooms and air for crowds, 38. Heine, 272. Helmholtz, 378, 385, 398. Henry, II. Receiving Grown, 27, 29 ; VI., 244 ; VII. s chapel, 380, 403- 405. Heracles, Triton and Nereids, 27, 222. Herculaneum, 320. Hercules, Farnese, 20, 21, 24, 26, 281. Herder, 5, 117. Heroic Sculpture, Greek, 281. Hieraco Sphinx, 393, 398. Hieroglyphics, 218-221. High, buildings, 364-367 ; school tower, 327, 330. Hips, expression by, 123, 138, 142, 143 ,. 147 - Historical paintings, 274, 275 ; sculp- ture, 286. Holyrood ornamental arcade, 226, 227. Hopelessness, Expression of, in coun- tenance, 173, 174, 186. Horizontality, 65, 66, 72-74, 78, 82, 84, 90, 97, 166, 378 ; in gestures, 150, 151. Horror, in color, 208, 209 ; in coun- tenance, 175, 185, 186, 188. Hostility in color, 208. Hottentot Krall, 80, 377, 379, 384. Hours with Art and Artists, 292. Houses, at Morlaix, 323, 324 ; rep- resentatively constructed, 52, 318, 319 . 323 . 3 2 4 > 343 , 344 , 360, 380. See Huts. Houses of Parliament, 34, 36, 38. How, they Brought the Good News, 58 ; to judge a picture, 292, 300. Human element in landscape, 259. See Art, Artist, Body, Face, Fig- ure, Hands, Head, etc. Humanities, The, 2, 242. Hunt, Leigh, 57. Huts, originals, from which houses are developed, 80, 374-379, 383, 334 , 397 - 420 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Iambic Measure, 57. Idea, Constructive, as represented in architecture, 322-334. Ideographic writing, 217. Illustrated magazines, 236. Imagination, appeal of mixed forms to, 68; play of, viii, 318, 3ig, 354. Imitated, developed in architecture later than conventional forms, 387 - Imitation, 3, 4, 6-13, 30, 59, 70, 214-217, 226, 237, 385, 386, 388, 398, 399 ; advances in all art from generic to specific, 385, 386, 398, 399, 402 ; in architecture, 28-32, 312-314, 374-385; in metaphors and similes, 243, 244 ; in music, 28-32, 312-314 ; in painting, 226- 229 ; versus invention in architec- ture, 406. See Representation, associated or suggestive, and com- parative or imitative. Imitative, 2 ; as contrasted with sug- gestive in all the arts, 385-402 ; in painting, changes made in, 95 ; representation in the arts, 27, 28, 214-217. Immobility, as represented in paint- ing and architecture, 25. Importance as represented in paint- ing and architecture, 27, 37. Impressionists, 296. Impudence as represented in coun- tenance, 167, 177, 178. Incongruity, 191. India, Temples of, 380, 399, 400, 401. Individuality necessary in counte- nance, 103. Inferno, The, 209. Influential, The, as represented in painting and architecture, 27. Initial elocutionary stress, 16. Inness, G., 259, 308. Instinctive tendency in expression, 4, 6-13, 19-21, 58-60, 62, 63, 72, 94 ; in color, 193, 194, 198 ; in drawing, 58-60 ; in the human form, 126-137, 142-149, 166, 214. Intensity as represented, 39. Interest in a building, 323, 338 — 342 . Interior of a building as determining exterior appearance, 337-352. Interjections or ejaculations in for- mation of language, 4-6. Interpretive or mental temperament, HT-113, 122, 124, 126; facial movements, 166; inward and out- ward movements, 129, 130, 162- 164. Interrogation as expressed in counte- nance, 171, 172. Intonations, Meaning of, ix, x. Ipsambool, Egyptian Temple at, 394 , 39 6 , 398 . Iron, as used in building, 326-331, 358, 403 ; concealed, 329, 330. Irregularity, 15-18, 22, 88-103. Israels, 308. Italian, Early, paintings, 304. Japan, Art of, 232, 236. Japanese compositions, 90, 93. Jarvis, 282. Jaw, expressive of, 116, 124, 167. Jewish Cemetery, The, 260, 261. Jones, Owen, 220. Joshua, Life of, picture, 248. Joyous Conception, as represented by color, 204 ; by lines, 65, 74. Judas, Peter, and John, picture, 147, 148, 150, 158, 167, 169, 287. Kaffir Station, picture of, 377, 378, 381, 384. Kaulbach, 248, 250, 265, 272. Ivermesse, 47. Knee, Expression with, 145, 146. Kostroma, Church near, 25, 26, 32, 34 - Lamps, Seven of Architecture, Rus- kin, 54. Landscape, gardening, 95 ; as repre- senting man and nature, 70 ; painting, 95 ; as representing artist and significance, 258-262. Landscape with Waterfall, picture, 260. Landseer, 262, 263. Language and Languages, 5 ; and the Science of, 7 ; origin of, 4-7. Laocoon, Criticism of, 245-253, 284- INDEX. 421 286; group of, 49, 77, 174, 223, 281, 284, 285. Large size, as representative, 8, 9, 24, 25, 28, 38. Last Judgment, picture, 47. Laughter, and gayety, as expressed in countenance, 100, 183-185, 187, 189, 191 ; and smiling, 100, 183, 184. Lavater, 117-119. Leaning of head, forward, 168-175 ; sideward, 173-180. Leaving for Work, picture, 295, 299, 300. Lectures, on Design, 252, 276 ; on Sculpture, 280. Leg, Expression with the, 123, 145, 146. Length as representative, in body, 61, 108, 109, 113 135, I45> 152; in hand, 121-123 ; in head, 115 ; in gesture, 135 ; in lines of archi- tecture, 84 ; of painting, 73, 74 ; of nature, 66-70 ; moral effect of, 60, 108-114. Leonardo, 305. Lerolle, 308. Lessing’s Theory, 245-253, 270-272, 284. Lesueur, 74. Life and Movement, as expressed in color, 309 ; in drawing, 293, 298— 302. Life Drama, poem, 244. Light and Shade, 17, 18, 41, 42, 50, 51, 55. 293, 294 ; in color, 304- 306, 309 ; in drawing, 293, 294 ; in sculpture, 41, 302 ; in architec- ture, 52, 54 ; lines expressive of. 18, 41, 44, 46, 294, 307. Light, as related to Color, 193, 194, 195 ; effects of distance on, 91, 206, 294, 296, 297, 304, 306, 308. Lightness as represented, 25, 26. Limbs, human, Size of, as represent- ative, 21, 24, 25. Lines, as expressive of aspiration, 68, 73, 74, 84, 108 ; buoyancy, 65, 74; character, 73-87; in architec- ture, 78-87 ; in painting and sculp- ture, 44-50, 70-77, 269 ; of dig- nity, 37, 66, 73, 84, 112, 114, 149, 332, 356 ; elevation of aim, 68, 84 ; energy, mental and material, 19, 42, 44, 46-56, 57, 59 ; extra- neous force, 66, 72, 87 ; freedom, 61, 65, 133 ; force, 15, 18, 39, 42 ; gracefulness, 133; gravity, 183, immobility, 25, 37; importance, 27, 37 ; influence, 27, 37 ; joyousness, 65, 74 ; life and movement, 293, 298—302 ; light and shade, 17, 41, 42, 44, 46, 49, 51, 54, 294 ; per- sistence, 66, 68 ; massiveness, 32, 37, 38 ; repose, 44, 45, 66, 72, 84, 326, 356 ; seriousness, 66, 73, 74, 82, 84, 85 ; storm, 43, 44, 65, 66 ; strength or weakness, 15, 16, 18, 21, 24, 25, 32, 39, 42, 44. 52, 54, 355. 4°5 J substantial- ity. 25, 332 ; unconsciousness, 61, 126; unsubstantiality, 26; weak- ness, 16, 25, 49, 50 ; yielding, 49 ; dividing the face and figure pro- portionately, 88-103. See Angular, Curved, Horizontal, Mixed, Per- pendicular, Straight, Vertical. Lion Hunt, picture, 202. Lips, Expression by, 115-118. Literary painting, 228-230, 245- 253, 270-272 ; use of term, 251. Long, 76, 266. Longfellow, his face, 109, 113, 115, 117, 119, 124. Luini, B., 248, 250, 251. Lungs as expressive of motive tem- perament, 1 14. MacLean, T. N., 143. Macmonnies, 266, 267, 281. Madonnas, Raphael’s, 265. Magi, Adoration of the, picture, 72, 73, 174, 263, 276. Magnitude. Effect of distance on, 91, 206, 294, 296-298, 304, 306, 308. Malice expressed in countenance, 100, 177, 185. Mantegazza, 116, 118, 120. Marble, in architecture, 403 ; in statues, 203. Maria, Christina, Tomb of, 50, 73, 263, 286, ; Stern’s, 129, 131, 142, 156, 168. Marjorie, Little, Sargent, 264. 4 22 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Marks, H. S., 63, 270; St. Venice, 36, 37- Marr, C., 304. Marriage, Proposition of, picture, 61, 138, 147, 160, 161, 169, 175. Massive Outlines as representative, 32 . Material Surroundings, as represented in art, 4, 42, 44, 46-51, 59, 63- 78 ; in architecture, 372-408 ; in painting and sculpture, 291-310 ; as representing mental conditions, 2, 42, 46-51, 59. 63-78. Mausoleum. See Tomb. Measures, poetic, 16, 17, 57, 88 ; corresponding to measurements in space, 57. Measurements, 17, 32, 57, 58, 88 ; for regularity correspond either in space or shape, 89, 97. Median elocutionary stress, 16. Meissonier, 307. Melody, 18. Melrose Abbey, 24-26, 32, 34, 203, 322, 380, 390. Memorial Architecture, 356, 357. Mental, as represented in the arts of sight, conceptions, 1, 2, 23, 214, 215, 226, 241 ; in archi- tecture, 311-371 ; in painting and sculpture, 239-253 ; control, 115, 120-124, 126 ; energy, 19, 42, 44, 46-50, 59 ; expression by inward and backward movements, 129 ; influence, 19-22, 121, 142, 152, 167-178, 180, 1 8 1 , 191, 198 ; pur- pose in buildings, 334-352 ; tem- perament, 108-114. Mentality, ill, 115, 121, 134. See Mental. Mercury, Flying, 21, 25, 26, 62, 73, 135, 152. Mermaid, The, poem, 40. Merry Miller Song, viii. Metaphor, Accuracy of imitation in, 243, 244. Metropolitan Museum, New York, 304, 309. Mexico, Early writing in, 218. Millet, J. T., 299, 230-232, 253, 260, 295, 301, 308. Milton, vi. Mind, as represented in art, 19, 217. See Mental. Minerva, 76, 77. Mixed colors, as representative, 207 - 21 1 ; lines, 59, 75, 77, 87. Mobility as represented in outline, 25. 26, 37. Monks in the Oratory, picture, 304. Monastery, Troitzka, Door of, 380, 388, 390. Moral, as represented, in bodily shape and movement, by reach, and length, 62, 108-1 r4 ; by rigidity, 137, 138 ; by upright posi- tion, 178, 180; involving control, 115, 123, 124 ; connected with emotive expression, 113,114, 135; influence, 62 ; its seat in arms and breast, 127, 129, 142 ; tem- perament, 108-114, 128. Moral Thoughts, Tomassee’s, 118. Motive, 19 ; expression as com- bining mental and instinctive, 127, 129, 136, 1S7 ; or active temperament, 108-114, 128 ; con- nection with emotive or moral expression, 113, 114, 135 ; indi- cated by length, 60, 108-114 ; in- volving control, 115, 118, 122- 124 ; its seat in limbs and breast, 127, 128, 129, 142, 148. Mouth, expression through, 112, 115-118,181-185, 189; regularity of, 98, 99. Movability, as represented in arts of sight, 25. Movement, as represented in color, 309 ; in drawing, 293, 298 ; in sculpture, 302. Movements, bodily, as representing thought and emotion, 132, 134- 189 ; when aggressive, 168, 169, 171 ; backward and forward, 129, 148-164, 166-180 ; inward and outward, 128-130, 162-164, t66- 180 ; oblique, 62, 130, 132, 137, 144, 145, 147, 148, 158, 167, 172, 175; sideward, T30, 148-154, 166, 167, 170-175 ; upward and down- ward, 129, 134-137, 148-154, 162- 164, 166-180 ; form of, 138-140; of head, 166-191 ; of arms and INDEX. 423 hands, 149-164 ; of the torso and lower limbs, 129-149 ; rotary, of head, 166, 180. Mukteswara, Temple of, 380, 399, 401. Munich, Marien Flatz, 54, 343, 344, 360, 380. Mural. See Walls. Murillo, 202. Muscles, 1 14 ; of face, compared with hand gestures, 181. Musee, Prehistorique, 216. Music as a Representative Art, iii, v, 7, 196, 214, 287, 313, 373. Music, 88, 214, 3S5 ; begins earlier and develops later than poetry, 313 ; developed from intonations, iv, v, viii-x, 7, 313, 372, 373 ; expression in, iv, v, viii-x, 30, 32. Musical, 57, 214. Myra, Rock tomb at 31s, 316, 37s, 376, 387. 397 , 403. 4°7- Mythologic painting, 272; sculpture, 286. Napoleon, his face, 115-117, 118, 119, 120, 124, 169, 177, 179. Nathan Hale, statue, 267, 281. National Gallery, London, 260. Natural, Appearances, as represented in architecture, 26, 32, 78—87, 312— 321, 372-408 ; in art, 2, 4, 6 ; in metaphor and simile, 243, 244 ; in painting, 63-78, 226-236, 291- 310 ; in building material for a locality, 408 ; colors and dyes, 198 ; how representing thought, 3, 63-78. Naturalistic Line in drawing, 294- 296. Nature, as represented in architec- ture, 374, 375 ; different from art, 257, 258. _ Nausica, Figure from, 60, 61, 72, 129, 130, 133. Nave of a cathedral resembling trees, 84, 398, 399, 403. Nearness, as represented by color, 206, 207, 294, 295, 307, 308 ; by shape and line, 28, 32, 91, 294, 295. See Distance. Negro Huts, 80, 378, 383, 384. Nerves, nervous, nerve-force, in, 113, 114, 119, 121, 126; sympa- thetic, 126 ; cerebro-spinal, 114, 127. Nevill, R., 337. New Guinea Chief, A, 136-138. Nightingale, Florence, 268. Normal, action in nature ; how rep- resented, 65, 72 ; tone in elocu- tion, 197, 207 ; school building, New Zealand, 331-333. 355. 358, 359- Nose, Expression by, 98, 99, 100, 112, 120, 121, 124, 129, 188, 189. Nostrils, Expression by, 102, 120, 181, 182, 185, 188, 189, 191. Notes as used in measures, 57. Oblique movements, 130, 144 ; backward 62 130, 132, 145, 147, 148, 158, 167 ; forward, 130, 132, 137, 145, 148, 167, 172, 175. Observatory, 357. Octagon, 56. Old South Church, Boston, 35, 52, 54, 84, 331, 380. Opening Gesture, Curves in the 138- 140 ; downward, 138, 151, 159, 160 ; likened to facial expression, 182, 183, 186 ; sideward, 138, 151, 159, 160; upward, 1 5 1 , 160, 161. Opera House, Metropolitan, New York, 204. Opie, J. , 252, 276. Orange color as representative, 195, 197, 198, 209, 210. Orator’s Manual, 133, 163, 164, 197. Organ Recital, picture, 309. Oriental temples and palaces like tents, 376. Originality in architecture, 406, 407. Originating in art, 405, 406. Ornamental arcade from Holyrood, 226, 227. Ornamental, developed from useful features, 318 ; in architecture, 374, 375, 386-397- Orotund tone in elocution, 197, 207, 208. Othello, 244. 4-4 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , ARCHITECTURE. Outlines, 15, 17, ig, 20, 22, 32, 40, I 41, 42; angular, 55-87, no; curved, 55-87, go, no ; regularity of, 88-105 ; straight, 55-87, no. See Lines. Outward Movements, 128-130, 162- 164, 166-180. Ovals, g7, g8. Overbeck, 228. Oxford public schools, 360, 36g, 380. Paint, Excessive, appearance of, in a painting, 306, 3og. Painting, allegorical, 248, 272, 274 ; as representing mental concep- tions, 23g-27g, 286-2go ; natural appearances, 291-310 ; time, 245- 253 ; as interpreting itself, 254- 27g, 286-290 ; as literary, 228- 230, 245-253, 270-272 ; of details developing late, 385 ; lines in, 41-48, 70-77 ; its mode of expres- sion, 30, 32, 70-78, 213-238 ; distinguished from that of archi- tecture, 30, 32, 311-314 ; from poetry, 245, 246 ; from music, 30, 32, 311-314 ; from sculpture, 280, 281 ; historical, 274-278 ; mytho- logical, 272, 273 ; portrait, 263- 269 ; significance versus form in, vi— viii, 239—279 ; symbolical, 272, 274 ; touch in, 42-48. See Color, Line, Outlines, Shape. Palaces, Oriental, 376, 377. Pallas of Villetri, 47, 49, 76, 281. Palm, 123, 124 ; gestures with, 156- 161, 181. Palmistry, iii, 107 ; shape of hand, 121-124. Palms, Avenue of, Rio, 32, 73, 84, 85. 399- Pantomime, iii, 107. See Gestures and Facial Expression. Paris, Grand Opera House, 405 ; streets of, 345, 363, 364. Parallel lines as representative, 56, 59, 65, 68, 73-75, 97- Parallelism, 90, 91, 92, 95. Parliament, Houses of, 34, 36, 38, 42, 52, 322, 358, 380. Parthenon, Figures from, 223, 225, 281, 282. Pauses, Elocutionary, 15, 39, 40. Pavilion of Richelieu, Paris, 52, 348, 358, 359, 38o. Pectoral elocutionary tone, 197, 207- 209. Pedant’s Proposition of Marriage, picture, 61, 138, 147, 160, 161, 169, 175. Pekin, Winter Palace at, 358, 376, 377, 380, 386. Pericles, 225. Perpendicular, Gothic, 380 ; Lines, 52, 65, 76. Perplexity, as expressed in counte- nance, 172, 173 ; in color, 194, 208. Persia, capital, 394, 398 ; portal at Persepolis, 393, 398. Perspective, aerial, 206, 307-300 ; laws of, 28, 32, 37; in architecture, 32 ; in sculpture, 302 ; lineal, 28, 34, 37, 9 1 , 293, 296, 298. Persistence, expressed in natural outlines, 66, 112 ; of men, 112, 1 14, 122. Persuasion expressed in gesture, 62. Peter Martyr, picture, 46. Phidias, 223. Phonetic writing, 218. Phrenology as explaining expression, iii, 107, 115-121. Physiognomy, and Expression, 116 ; as explaining expression, iii, 107, 115-121 ; Lavater’s, 117. Physiological psychologist, 115. Physiology as explaining expression, iii, 107-114. Physical influence, representation of, ig-22 ; inhuman form, no, 113, 1 1 5 , 121, 123, 124, 168, 1 71 , 174, 175, 181, 183, 185, 198. Piankhi Receiving Submission, 27, 50, 222. Picturesque, line in drawing, 294- 296 ; motive in architecture, 314, 316- Picture-writing, 2 1 7-22 1. Pilasters, 324, 326, 342-349. Pillars, 20, 25, 32, 38, 323, 326, 330, 336, 342, 348, 375. 387, 39°- Pinakothek, Munich, 202. Pinnacles, 355, 371. INDEX. 425 Pitch, of color, ig, 22, 39, 195, 196, 199 ; of sounds, 18, 192. Plan as represented in a building, 320, 334 - 352 - Play-impulse of imagination, as de- veloped in architecture, 318, 319, 354 ; in all art, viii. Poetry as a Representative Art, iii, 12, 15, 18, 56, 132, 196, 214, 373 - Poetry, 56, 57, 88 ; as representing time and space, 245, 246 ; de- scriptive, 246 ; early, style of, 385; flowery, never early, 385; form of, exalted above significance, vi ; method of expression, 30, 32, 40, 2x4, 215, 311-314 ; development of, 372, 373 - Poets, always sharp in shape, 109. Pointed arches, 380-385. Pollice Verso, picture, 28, 31, 34, 91, 274, 287, 295. Pompei, 320, 321. Porches, 20, 342. Portrait painting, 263-269 ; sculp- ture, 281, 282. Poussin, N., 46, 48, 74, 75, 139. Poynter, E. J., 60. Praxiteles, 48, 144, 223. Preller, L., 224. Pre-Raphaelite, 228-230, 252, 295. Presentation at the Temple, picture, 248, 250, 251. Pride, expressed in countenance, 100 ; unconfiding, 167, 176, 177. Principles and methods of art edu- cation, 212, 296. Prometheus Unbound, poem, 244. Prophets, picture, 47. Proportion, 57, 89, 101. Proportion and Harmony in painting, sculpture, and architecture, 306, 3 ° 7 . 3 10 - Proportionately divided human face, 90, 97, 98, 101-103 ; form, 90, 97, 98, 101. Prud’hon, 48. Pure elocutionary tone, 197, 207, 210. See Normal. Purple color as representative, 195, 197-199, 210, 211. Pyrrhus Saved, picture, 75. Quality, in sound and color, 18, ig, 22, 40, 192, 196, igg ; in color, 195, 196. Queen’s College, Galway, 84, 349, 350 , 355 . 359 . 360, 380. Questioning expressed in counte- nance, 1 71, 172. Radiation, go, 95 ; in natural forms, 92, 93 ; in perspective, 298. Rage and Fear, as expressed in coun- tenance, 175, 179, 181, 184, 186, 189 ; contemptuous, 175, 176, 178, 18 1— rS3, 186, 189. Rank of Art-Work, how determined, 255, 256, 259, 260. Rape of the Sabines, picture, 46, 75 , 87. Raphael, 77, 79, 104, 201, 226, 227, 248, 250, 255, 265, 272, 276, 279, 287. Rapture, religious, as expressed in countenance, 174, 175, 179. Ravenna, San Vitale, 380, 390, 391. Red, color, 195, 197, 198, 200, 201, 209, 210; and sound of trumpet, 201. Recent ideals in American art, 292. Rectangles, 65. Reflection, as expressed in the coun- tenance, 1S2, 184-186, 188 ; in the bodily movements, 129, 142, 156, 162, 167, igi. Reflective tendency, in color, 193, 194 ; in expression, 6-13, 19-21, 59, 61, 62, 65, 66, 73, 82, 94, 95, 133, 134, 137, 142, 175, 198 ; in the human form, 126-137, 192- 149; meaning of term, 127. Reformation, 272. Regular figure, 56. Regularity of countenance, 101-104 ; of outline, 15-18, 22, 39, 42, 68, 73, 88-105. Rejection expressed in countenance, 183, 189; in gesture, 158. Relief, Treatment of Design in, 49— 5U 302. Religious, ideas in art, 226 ; rapture, expressed in countenance, 175, 179. Rembrandt, 48, 295, 305. 426 PAINTING , SCULPTURE , AND ARCHITECTURE. Renaissance, 52. Repetition, 74, 75. Repose, in architecture, 84, 326, 356 ; in landscape and figure il- lustration, 69, 70, 72, 74, 259 ; in outlines of nature, 44, 45, 66, 72 ; Lines expressive of, 18, 44, 45 , 70, 90, 93 , 259 - Representation, as associative or suggestive, 4-13, 18, 27, 28, 32, 37. 5i, 214, 385,. 386, 388, 398, 399 ; as comparative or imitative, 4, 6-13, 27, 28, 32, 37, 214-217, 385, 386, 398 ; factors of, audible, 2, 14—18 ; visible, 14-22, 23 ; the two compared, 14-18 ; of artist in architecture, 316, 317, 320; in painting and sculpture, 257-272 ; of form and significance both necessary, vi, vii, 226, 228 ; of mind and nature go together, 3 ; of mental conceptions in architecture, 28-38, 51-54,63-87,311-314,322- 371 ; in painting and sculpture, 41— 48, 70-77, 239-290, 311-314; of surrounding appearances in archi- tecture, 28, 32, 78-87, 312-321, 372-408; in painting and sculpture, 41-48, 70-77, 291-310 ; sugges- tive of such conceptions as bright- ness, 193, 195-212; dignity, 37, 66, 73,84, 112, 114, 149, 199, 202, 203; distance, 28, 32, 37, 156, 206, 207, 294, 295, 307-309 ; freedom, 61, 65, 133 ; fussiness, 356 ; heavi- ness, 25, 26, 37 ; height, 32, 34, 35, 38; immobility, 25, 37 ; im- portance, 27, 37; influence, 27, 37; gracefulness, 49, 61, 133 ; gayety, 100, 183, 184, 187, 189, 191, 199, 204; joyousness, 65, 74 ; length, 66 -70, 73, 74, 84 ; lightness, 25, 26 ; magnitude, 91, 297, 298 ; move- ment, 128-130, 132-189, 293, 298, 309 ; persistence, 66, 73, 1 12, 114, 122 ; persuasion, 62 ; repose, 44, 45, 66, 72, 84, 326, 356 ; rigidity, 138, 189; seriousness, 66, 73, 74, 82, 84, 112, 183, 199, 202, 203; strength, 15, 16, 18, 21, 24, 25, 32, 42, 44, 48, 50; substantiality, 2 5> 37, 33 2 ! triumph, 179 ; un- substantiality, 26 ; weakness, 16, 2 5 ; 49, 50 ; width, 32, 34, 35, 38 ; yeilding, 49. See also other con- ceptions as indicated under Ac- cent, Angles, Architecture, Body, Color, Countenance, Curves, Lines, Painting, Sculpture, etc. Responsive expression, 30, 311-314. Resurrection, The, statue, 140, 142, 143, 151, 152, 160, 162, 167, 174, 286. Reynolds, Sir J., 46, 266. Rhomboids, 97. Rhythm, 17, 57, 88, 89. Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music, iii, ix, 195, 214. Ribera, 48. Richelieu, Pavilion, 52, 358, 348, .349, 359. 380 . Rigidity of body expressive of moral force, 138, 189. Rock, cave carved on inside, 3 1 5 — 317, 375, 376, 389 , 407 ; tomb carved on outside, 315, 316, 375, 376, 387 , 397, 403. 407- Roman art, 381. Romanesque Architecture, 36, 78, 380, 384, 388, 390. Romantic Line in drawing, 294-296. Roofs, 26, 38, 327-329, 334, 342, 353-371 ; church, support of, 329, 330, 331. 33 2 i flat. 358-360, 362; Mansard, 371 ; primitive shapes of, 375-378 ; visible, 359, 360, 362, 370. Roslyn Chapel, 405. Rossetti, 229, 230, 232. Rotary motion of head as expressive, 166, 180. Rottmann, 260. Roundness, of body, 110-114; of face, 115, 118; of hands, 121, 122 ; of movement, 133 ; sugges- tive of effects of growth, 82 ; of nature, 80. Rousseau, 307, 308. Rows of trees, 95. Royal Academicians, Lectures be- fore, 50, 77. Rubens, 47, 227, 255, 276, 277 ; his coloring, 202. Ruskin, 54, 73, 86, 260. INDEX. 427 Russian, church, Paris, 82-84, 86, 323; house, 323, 325, 403, 408; Troitzka Monastery, 380, 388, 390. Ruysdael, 260, 261. Ryerson Physical Laboratory, 368, 369, 380. Sabines, Rape of, 46, 75, 87. Sacrifice at Lystra, Raphael, 158, 276, 279, 287. Sadness in countenance, 189. Samson, 386. San Vitale, Ravenna, 380, 390, 391. Sargent, 264. Scale, Musical, 40. Scene in the Woods, 32, 33, 73, 399. Scheming as expressed in counte- nance, 1 7 1 . Schiller Platz, Berlin, 354, 357, 380. School of Athens, Raphael, 201, 248, 249, 250, 272, 287. Schnorr, J., 226. Scold expressed in countenance, 100. Scott, Sir W., 86. Sculpture, allegorical, 286; as repre- senting details, 385-396, 399- 402 ; mental conceptions, 280- 290 ; light and shade, 41, 302 ; space and time, 245-253 ; texture, 303 ; touch, 48-51 ; color in, 280 ; excellence of ancient Egyptian, 222 ; its mode of expression dis- tinguished from that of architec- ture and music, 28-33, 311-314; from painting, 28, 281 ; lines in, 70-78 ; historical, 286 ; material of, 203, 280 ; mythological, 286 ; subjects demanding dignity of treatment, 280, 281 ; symbolical, 286. Self-consciousness as expressed in the human form, 61. Self-control as manifested in human form, 114, 149. Self Instructor, Fowler’s, 108. Seriousness, as manifested in color, 199, 202, 203 ; in countenance, 183 ; in outlines, 66, 73, 74, 82, 84, 113. Sensations of Sound, Helmholtz, 378. Setting, Artistic method of, 91, 92. Seven Lamps of Architecture, The, 54- Shade, Light and, 17, 18, 41, 42- 50, 51, 55, 293, 294; in color, 304-306, 309 ; in statues, 41, 301, 302 ; in architecture, 52, 54 ; lines expressive of, 18, 41, 44, 46, 294, 306. Shadows, 52 ; darkest in brightest light, 294, 306 ; how produced by color, 294, 302, 304, 305, 307, 308. Shading, 17, 39, 41, 42, 57. See Light and Shade. Shakespear, 248. Shaking hands, 236. Shape, 15, t 8, 32, 88, 89, no ; an- gularity of, 55-87, 89 ; curvature of, 17, 21, 55-87, 88-94 ; repre- sentation of, with texture, in color, 306, 307 ; in drawing, 41, 42, 293, 294 ; in sculpture, 41, 302 ; through human, 106-124 I though material, 39-87 ; regular- ity of, 88-105. Sharpness, of face and body, 108- 115, 118-120; of hand, 121-123, 134, I 55- See Angles and An- gularity. Sheldon, G. W., 292. Shelley, 244. Shoulders as expressive, 123, 148. Sides or walls of buildings, 323-352. Sideward movements of body as representative, 130, 148-155, 166, 167, 170-175. Sight as used in art, 2, 3, 12, 14—18. Significance, in architecture, 28—38, 78-86, 87, 316, 317, 320, 321- 371 ; painting, 239-279, 286-290 ; of animals. 262, 263 ; flowers and fruits, 256-258 ; landscapes, 258- 262 ; portraits, 263-269 ; in sculp- ture, 280-290 ; in that of Greece, 222, 224, 225 ; necessary in paint- ing and sculpture, 221-286 ; reasons for denying necessity of, vii, 242, 243 ; versus regularity in faces and groups, 102-105 ; versus form in poetry, vi, vii. Significant in itself, necessary in a painting, 254-278 ; in a statue, 281-286. 42