Lectures and lessons on art; being an introduction to a practical and comprehensive scheme

n^t-lniin^jv

REESE LIBRARY

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.

Class

J

UN..

Piote XXV.

LECTURES AND LESSONS
ON ART

BEING AN INTRODUCTION TO A PRACTICAL
AND COMPREHENSIVE SCHEME

BY THE LATE F. W. MOODY

I)

INSTRUCTOR IN DECORATIVE ART AT
SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM

WITH DIAGRAMS TO ILLUSTRATE COMPOSITION
AND OTHER MATTERS

EIGHTH EDITION

OF THE

UNIVERSITY

CALIFORNIA

LONDON

<GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK ST., COVENT GARDEN
AND NEW YORK

1893

/1

C1IISV/ICK PRESS :— C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE.

€[VERSIT
OF

CONTENTS.

FACE

PREFACE vii
Preface to the Second Edition ix
Address at the Commencement of the Session «. I

LECTURE I.
On Social and Physical Accidents. Introduction .... 9

LECTURE II.
On Modern Theories ......... 19

LECTURE III.
On Education .... 40

LECTURE IV.
On the Principles of Ornamental Art . . , . , .61

LECTURE V.
On the Principles of Ornament 71

LECTURE VI.
On the Elements of Ornament ... 80

VI

Contents.

LECTURE VII.
On the Proper Distribution of Ornament .

LECTURE VIII.
On Material . . . . . .

Address at the Conclusion of the Session .
Description of the Diagrams

115

130
141

PREFACE.

THE following Lectures were given to a class of
National Scholars at Kensington Museum, and they
are published in the hope that they may be found
useful to a larger circle of students, and perhaps not un-
interesting to more advanced artists, who may wish to turn
their attention to Ornament. With the exception of the
Lecture on Education, which has been amplified, no additions
and few emendations have been made, for what they might
have gained in polish they would probably have lost in direct-
ness and force. They form the first part of an intended series,
and are to be regarded simply as introductory to the Lectures
on Architecture, Ornament, and the Human Figure, which I
hope to be able to prepare for the press at some future time.
The practical lessons on the principles of ornament were
supplemented by constant reference to the magnificent collec-
tions immediately at hand. The illustrations are but a sorry
substitute for such an advantage as this, but it is hoped they
may help to explain my meaning to those who are not
fortunate enough to enjoy a similar privilege.

PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.

IT is hoped that the issue of a cheaper edition ol
" Lectures and Lessons on Art " will bring them
within the means of a more numerous class of students,
for it is more especially to the students that we must look for
any effects these lectures may have.

I have little to complain of in the reception the book has
hitherto met with. A man who goes to battle must expect
hard blows, and having myself declared war against critics, I
am bound to confess that even those that are hostile have
generally exhibited a greater magnanimity than I had before
credited them with. What strikes me the most (no doubt be-
cause I am a novice) is the startling and wholly irreconcilable
contrast in their opinions. While I have to thank many for a
more generous appreciation of my work than I ever expected
or deserved, others can see no good in it whatever ; some, too,
are so obviously unjust that I cannot help thinking they have
fitted on the caps I purposely left about, and are irritated at
the jingling of the bells ; most of their objections are already
refuted in the book itself.

Although I believe that most of the amateur talk about Art
does more harm than good, I am not one of those who think
that no one is a good judge of a table unless he is able to
make one. On the contrary, it is to the most cultivated

x Preface to Second Edition.

intellects that we must look for any escape from our present
chaos, for it is unfortunately true (though the statement of it
may be ungracious), that few artists are educated enough to
systematize, or even to express clearly, the knowledge they
may happen to possess. We want men of cool and philosophic
temperament and, above all, of cultivated intellect, who will
do for Art generally what Whewell and Willis did thirty-five
years ago for Gothic architecture.

There are no doubt already many writers on Art of singular
power, but even the best of them are hampered by prejudices ;
they have taken a side, or express the sentiments of a clique —
conditions under which it is impossible for them to succeed in
what is so much needed. Art is not a theory ; it is a reality,
a science, a handicraft ; and it is by analysis alone that the
present chaos will be resolved into order.

No one can take a comprehensive view of Art without being
struck with the natural order in which styles and qualities
range themselves. The history of Art, made up though it be
of mental and material atoms apparently isolated, accidental,
and sometimes in the highest degree capricious, flows on in
an intelligible sequence. Take it at any point of time and all
is harmonious ; and decorative Art, considered generally, goes
through a succession of phases which are reflected in each of
its branches.

Art was formerly the spontaneous and natural expression
of the age in. which it existed, and each artist occupied his
natural and proper place. Although his free will was never
hampered, he seems to have been as constrained to do what he
did as if he had acted under the most rigid supervision. He
drew his inspiration from the facts and influences of his time,
as surely as a daisy draws from the soil those essences which
combine to make it what it is. We may with as good reason
complain that a daisy is not a rose as we may abuse an early
Italian artist because he did not draw rocks geologically
correct ; and Rubens was no more likely to have appeared at
the time of Perugino, than dahlias to spring up side by side
with daffodils ; but all this is now, alas, altered : not only has
this age no artistic direction of its own, but men doubt even

Preface to Second EcUon.

*

their own characteristics. The fact is, they have been talked
out of their wits. Bewildered with their own age, they vainly
attempt to go back to others that take their fancy more.
Some become Goths, some Elizabethans, some (probably
infidels) venture into the Caroline ages, and even as far as the
reign of Queen Anne ; while others are so fastidious that they
can tolerate nothing that does not come from either Italy or
Greece. The only thing they all agree in is, abusing each
other ; and they are quite right, for the taste and consequently
the patronage of half the nation is directed by epithets —
epithets loudly shouted, but not a whit less absurd than the
"isosceles triangle" with which O'Connell subdued the fish-
woman. Above this motley crowd we may hear the voice of
the philosophers, each with his own nostrum, and each judging
the whole world from the view he is able to get of it from the
eminence of his own tub. If we go round the fair and hear
what each one has to say, we shall recognize, at least, some
sense in the sermons of even the greatest quacks ; and when
we think of the variety, nay the contrariety, of the phases
through which Art itself has actually gone, we may well ask
ourselves the question, " What right have we to expect these
doctors to agree ? " Differ they needs must. The mistake lies
not in men thinking their own views are right, but in their
attempting to force their nostrums down the throats of every-
one, whatever may be his constitution or his taste.

That men should thoroughly believe in themselves is no
doubt necessary to success, and success is the more certain
the more they concentrate their efforts on one phase of Art.
It is even right they should have strong prejudices, for they
form a cuticle impenetrable to reason, which would, perhaps,
only dissipate their aim, and weaken their enthusiasm. But
although these considerations would have a legitimate in-
fluence in the shop, or the atelier, they could not with reason
be admitted in a general system of education.

In the study of the art-objects in the Museum, nothing
astonishes me more than their almost universal perfection.
And here let me not be misunderstood. I do not maintain
that each part is perfect ; on the contrary, each part is often

xii Preface to Second Edition.

grotesquely wrong ; but improve them, and, in the great
majority of instances, the unity, character, and beauty of the
whole would have vanished.

When we .consider that most of these things were made
without any aid from academies, schools of design, or critics,
and that they are almost invariably superior to productions
of modern art, which is so superabundantly blessed in these
respects, we can hardly escape the suspicion that our talk
and teaching is probably doing as much harm as good ; and
were it not that I am buoyed up by the hope that we also may
be performing our part in some ordered sequence, I should
come to the conclusion that we are harrying Art to its death.

To organize a system of education which shall be of any
practical use, or even innocuous under the circumstances
of the present age, is a task that may well appal the boldest.
It would probably be the wisest course to abandon the
hope that modern art will ever have a natural direction and
character of its own ; and, frankly accepting eclecticism as in-
evitable, endeavour to raise Art education to a level with that
of any other branch of learning, founding it on principles
deduced from the practice of the greatest men — from an
intelligent study of the history of Art, — a careful observation
of the facts and principles of nature, and by carefully noting
their natural affinities, at last separating its qualities into
groups, for without this it is only the most rudimentary
education that can be general — it is only the veriest platitudes
that can be true, or even harmless, in every branch of Art.

For these reasons I ventured to draw out the " Scale of
Art." I wished, in the first place, to show that the imitative
system now so much in vogue was inapplicable to decorative
art. My object was not to condemn but to classify. By
pointing out those qualities which naturally cohere, I hoped to
prevent the waste of time and energy which are so often
spent in attempting to combine those which are naturally
antagonistic. By defining the limits of various branches of
Art, and showing that each has its natural landmarks, I hoped
to put a stop at least to internecine warfare, I regret that my
object has been misunderstood.

Preface to Second Edition. xiii

Some praise and some blame, but no one has taken the
trouble to subject the position I have chosen to a careful
survey; it will, I think, be found to be stronger than either
my friends or my foes anticipate, but being myself unable to
occupy it with sufficient power, I had hoped to have resigned
the command to some abler hands who would have turned it
into a stronghold.

With regard to Criticism, the source perhaps of more evil than
education, I apprehend that nothing can be done to amend it.
Repeated exposure of the most obvious fallacies can hardly
have any appreciable effect as long as fallacies are repeated
twenty times as often. Take the " Pall Mall " critic on this
subject : — " Does Mr. Moody," he asks, " seriously imagine that
when Rubens or Rembrandt painted there was no such thing
as criticism ; or that the great Italian painters were not
subjected to the caustic remarks of their contemporaries, whose
relation to them precisely corresponds to those of the critics of
to-day ?" To this I reply that Mr. Moody, in common with
everyone who has thought a moment on the subject, does
believe that ancient and modern criticism are as different as
two things that bear the same name can well be. Formerly
the opinion of a critic derived its weight from his personal
attainments — the opinion of an ignorant man would go for no
more than it was worth ; now the influence of criticism depends
on the circulation of the paper in which it appers. The " Pall
Mall " critic's most partial friend would hardly assert that his
mere personal opinion was of any value whatever.

It is almost impossible for a critic to spare the time to master
a system or a theory which involves a comprehensive knowledge
of any branch of learning, A few smart sentences are all he
can afford. Indeed, these show his own cleverness to more
advantage than any more serious or honest treatment could
possibly do. They are more popular too ; for most people
have a secret satisfaction in seeing others, and I fear we must
also add, their friends, cut up. And some criticisms have, I
admit, the force and wit of a good caricature : for instance, we
are all amused at Mr. Ruskin's description of Flaxman's art
as " goggle-eyed men straddling behind round shields ; " but,

xiv Preface to Second Edition.

generally, there is this important difference between caricatures
and criticism — the one is of a person already very well known,
the other is put forth as a veritable portrait of a stranger. The
critic picks out a few damaged grains and exhibits them as a
true sample of the sack.

In comparing old and modern criticism we should not omit
to note that contemporary works were judged according to the
taste of the age in which they were produced ; but as the taste
of our own has no definite direction, each critic judges works
by an artificial standard of his own. The man with Gothic
sympathies depreciates classic art ; the classic man returns the
compliment with interest : in short, modern criticism may be
smart, clever, and amusing, but no one would seriously maintain
that the system was just, or that it did any good. Men build
up tyrannies stone by stone just as they did their castles
centuries ago, and in the matter of criticism the press is as
great and unjust a tyranny as the strongest robber-hold ever
reared by a baron.

It would be a blessing if we could only get rid of the circular
reasoners ; surely, that is not too much to expect. The greater
the attraction of these men's conceit, and the smaller the orbit
of their attainments, the quicker they revolve and the more
noise they make. The process is simple enough. A man
evolves a theory from his internal consciousness ; everything
that does not conform to it is condemned as " false," "debased,"
%c. A good example of this style is afforded by the writer in
the " Builder." He lays down the law, in a very peremptory
way, that architecture ought not to be represented on painted
glass. Now everyone knows how large a part architecture
has always played in this art ; that it has formed the back-
ground of every important window from the fifteenth century
downwards. In many of our most splendid windows, it
occupies at least half of the whole space. But such facts as
these never in the least abash the circular critic. The practice
of centuries, the works of the greatest masters, avail nothing
against his ipse dixit. When I meet such a man I always '
think how unfortunate it is for us all that he did not live a
thousand years ago ; how much falsehood (the term for

Preface to Second Edition. xv

differing from a critic) had then been avoided ! but, coming as
he does in these latter days, there are some inconveniences in
adopting his theories, which perhaps never occurred to htm.
What am I to tell my pupils when I point out to them the
almost universal use of architecture ? Am I to say that the old
artists did all this in their ignorance of true principles, but that
since the advent of an anonymous critic in the " Builder " we
have come on a new and better era ?

I am sometimes almost persuaded there must be something
peculiarly misleading in work, for almost all that is done is
wrong ; it is only what is talked that is right. Living in a
Museum stored with deadly errors, we are, I fear, peculiarly
susceptible to the baneful influence of work. Would it not be
better to destroy all that has been done anterior to the advent,
and put ourselves unreservedly under the direction of some
Messiah of Art ? But even here there are difficulties, for
there are at least two hundred of them. No two preaching the
same gospel.

The " Spectator " brings forward some extracts from Mr.
Ruskin's works, to show that I have misrepresented him. If I
have done so I at once apologize, for I really cannot follow a
man four hundred miles through a tangled wood, to point out
the exact spot where I think he has gone wrong.

I am very grateful to Mr. Ruskin for his careful and beautiful
descriptions of the facts of nature, but there my gratitude, I
confess, ceases. His writings, and more especially his own style
of criticism, have certainly fostered an obtrusion of detail which
is fatal to the beauty of Art. He leaves out the individuality
of the artist, forgetting that men take rank, not by their truth
of detail, but by their calibre of mind.

I quite agree with the "Spectator" as to the probable
danger of teaching composition ; but I think he forgets that
my lectures are chiefly on ornamental art, in which he will
perhaps admit that composition is an essential element.
On this subject I must refer the reader to what I have
already written in the preface to the plates at the end of
the book.

I may perhaps be allowed to mention a fact of jwhich I may

UNIVERSITY

^^ CAJ IPORMiA, ^^

XVI

Preface to Second Edition.

well be proud. I have had the honour to receive a most
complimentary letter from Monsieur Guillaume, the well-known
director of the " Ecole des Beaux Arts " at Paris ; while
Monsieur Galland, the talented Professor of Decorative Art in
the same institution, has adopted my book as the basis of his
system of teaching.

UNIVERSITY
CALIFORNIA-.

ADDRESS ON COMMENCEMENT OF
THE SESSION.

AS success in Art, as in everything else, is impossible
without effort, and as all teaching without this is
useless, I am anxious at once to lay before you the
moral and personal aspects of study, and to point out some
of those difficulties and obstacles which are most likely to
beset your path.

I must first remind you that study is a discipline which
strengthens our faculties ; the want of this among our artists
is one of the reasons of the comparative failure of modern
art. Our education is too desultory, vague, and imperfect
to serve this end. The exact, definite, thorough compre-
hension which we find in every other branch of learning is
almost extinct in art. The knowledge, for instance, of Greek
particles, which is expected in the scholar, the exact and
complete knowledge of geometry in the mathematician, and
the minute and accurate observation which is necessary in
every branch of science, has no counterpart in the modern
education of artists. This is all the more to be regretted
because the great majority of students begin the study of art
so early, that their previous general education must needs have
been very imperfect. In mere imitation, knowledge and the
power of mind which is acquired by study are not absolutely

B

2 Address on Commencement

essential ; but we must work from another motive, and I
venture to think that in so comprehensive and difficult a
subject as art we certainly do not require less intellectual
training than in other professions ; to attempt to master it
with none is surely a mistake, and I look forward with some
hope to the effect of a thorough systematic study of the
human figure, wholly independent of the artistic power you
will doubtless acquire by it.

The first impediment to our progress which I shall notice is
that the faculties most useful in art seem, unluckily, to be
those which are least active ; we see, and even handle, objects
day after day, and yet when asked to draw or even to de-
scribe them, we are utterly confounded, and, to our surprise,
we often find ourselves ignorant of their simplest forms.

That the faculty of observation, which is the basis not only
of art, but of science as well, should never have been syste-
matically cultivated, is a blot in general as well as in art
education. You should endeavour to supply this \vant by
setting yourselves to draw some object you may have seen
during the day. You will by these means not only find out
gaps in your mind which have to be filled, but will by degrees
find your observation become more accurate and your memory
more full and retentive, qualities invaluable in art. Your view
will be expanded, your power greater ; you will begin to com-
prehend the work of those who have gone before you, and
will see to what fresh heights you have to climb.

Want of intellectual effort is another great cause of failure
in art. The modern systems of education, to a great extent,
cause or excuse this. Men spend half their time in stippling,
niggling, and imitative painting, which require no more thought
than whittling a stick ; but this is not the worst of it, they are
all the time deluding themselves with the idea that they are
working hard. But be not deceived, it is only by intellectual
effort that each step is surmounted.1

1 There must, of course, be a great deal of almost mechanical drudgery
in art, and it is only by practice that excellence of execution can be
attained. But what I complain of is, that in the present age so much of
it is mindless ; and I know no more deplorable sight than to go into the

of the Session. 3

Intellectual work is the hardest work of all, and men will
wriggle, turn, twist, and do everything to evade it ; but I wish
to put before you in the plainest possible way that there is
certain work to be done. It is of no use to look out for a gap
in the hedge. The advantages of going at it at once are
enormous. Just, for instance, consider the result of avoiding
the effort necessary to master the position and details of the
ankle. The want of this knowledge will probably plague you
at least twice a week : it will delay your work, you will get
into trouble every time you draw the figure, making altogether
a sum total of annoyance, unsatisfactory work and feeling, a
hundred times greater than the expenditureof time and thought
which would have been necessary to surmount the difficulty at
first. And above all things, remember that you are learning
to draw, you are not manufacturing drawings. If a drawing,
however beautifully it may be finished, fails to have impressed
upon the mind any one fact of nature, it is entirely useless.
Even the best of these laborious drawings, which often take
three, four, five, or even seven months in execution, is not
worth five shillings. Just consider for one moment the waste
of time such a process entails. I know from practical ex-
perience how useless such drawings are in an educational
point of view, and I have over and over again found that
many of the men who produce them are not only ignorant of
the human form, generally, and in detail, but they know
nothing of the most rudimentary principles of light and shade.
The secret of all this lamentable waste of time is that the
drawings have been done with the sole object of getting a
prize, and they have been done without any intellectual effort.

And here let me say one word on what may perhaps be
considered a low motive to exertion, the pecuniary value of
such instruction as you get here. You should regard the time

.antique school, and see there the manufacture of those elaborate drawings
which excite the admiration of the ignorant, but which in the cage of ninety
out of a hundred students leave on their minds no impression whatever of
the form, or any one single quality of the statue they have copied. They
might just as well have been engaged in manufacturing a copy of a map of
.London.

4 Address on Commencement

spent in study as capital from which you will derive future
interest. Suppose, for instance, it enables you to earn £150
or £200 a-year, it represents the interest on a value of £2,000.
To many it will, I hope, be much more, so that you should
make the very best use of your time. It is no doubt difficult
to live on your scholarship, but I most strongly advise you by
the most rigid economy to endeavour to avoid the necessity
of supplementing your income by petty commissions, by which
you earn little and learn less. Devote all your energies to
accumulating a store of exact knowledge, to laying a solid
foundation on which you can build afterwards. This, I am
convinced, is the wisest economy. You will keenly regret, in
the practice of your profession, the want of knowledge which
you ought to have acquired as students. Your ignorance of
some essential will hamper your progress, or, what is worse,
you may be tempted to adopt the contemptible arts of the
charlatan, a character not unknown in art.

Want of definite aim is another serious drawback to success
in art.

Such a multiplicity of views are advanced about art, and
with such plausibility, that it is no wonder that the student is
bewildered, while on education there are as many opinions as
men ; but even a sensitive appreciation of the beauties of the
different schools, though essential in an artist, is often a source
of distraction.

We stand before a Dutch picture and are charmed with its
truth, its force, and the skill and neatness of its execution.
It seeems to leave nothing to be wanted, and we think how
much better it is than many more pretentious works, and how
we should like to be able to produce such exquisite qualities.
But a little further on we come to the stately forms and
majestic action of the Roman or Florentine schools, and are
almost awe-struck before them, and we register a vow to adhere
rigidly to the study of form. But we no sooner enter the next
room than all our good resolutions melt away before the
glowing splendour of the Venetians, and we say to ourselves
" After all, colour is the glory of art, let us try and learn its
mysteries."

of the Session. 5

This diffusion of aim cannot but paralyse the energy which
is necessary to success in so difficult a study as art, and it is
hardly necessary for me to point out the very great advantage
of direction. In the first place, we are here with a definite
object, not narrow, it is true, but still sufficiently definite to
prevent us wandering far. I mean the study of ornamental
art. So that we need not be running up and down the whole
scale of art unable to make up our minds at what point to
rest ; but besides this, I wish you clearly to comprehend that
change from one system of instruction to another is generally
the result of want of energy, which leads to desultory
attempts, none carried to a successful issue, it comes from
attempting to evade difficulties instead of grappling with
them, and then trying to persuade onrselves that the diffi-
culties belong to the system, and that in another we should
certainly have succeeded. Depend upon it this complaining
of system is, in most cases, merely another version of the bad
workman finding fault with his tools.

There are difficulties, very great difficulties, in art, but
believe me, they are not simply in systems, or this or that
combination of colours, or in mediums or brushes. I do not
mean that we ought not to care about such things, on the
contrary, they are of the greatest importance, but in the long
run you would do well to consider difficulties as defects in
your mental or executive power which must be resolutely con-
quered by intellectual effort and practice.

Let us frankly recognize the difficulties of art, and adhering
to one system fairly master them ; and I am convinced that
an adherence to one system, though you may fancy it is not
the best that could be devised, will not only save a great deal
of time, but will certainly give you the power to change your
method with success at any future time. But there is another
moral failing very common among students of art, and in
some measure peculiar to them, which is equally detrimental
to character and progress, and that is conceit.

Now, for even an accomplished artist to be conceited is a
sure proof of his ignorance. If he really comprehended the
dignity and splendour of the works of the old masters, to say

6 Address on Commencement

nothing of the inimitable beauty of nature, his own works
would be a constant reminder of his humble attainments.
For a student who has as yet done nothing, or at most has
only produced studies which show little promise of future
excellence, to be conceited, is certainly, at first sight, quite
unaccountable. But that the study of art does produce that
^extraordinary compound of self-sufficiency and ignorance,
called a genius, is an undoubted fact, a fact of which it will
not be waste of time to trace the cause.

There are at the present moment in schools of art,
probably, more geniuses than in all the universities of Europe.
Why is this ? In the first place, their studies are so vague
and indefinite, that they really have no idea whereabouts they
are in the race for excellence. They do not understand that
they have as yet scarcely started. Their eye has to be
educated even to see nature truly : and as yet the great men
have worked in vain for them. When studies are exact, and
students, though perhaps ignorant themselves, live in an
atmosphere of learning, and have some idea of the extent and
difficulty of the sciences to be mastered, no such conceit is
developed, and I very much doubt if you would find a single
genius in all Cambridge.

But, I think, in great measure, this feeling of conceit arises
from a practice of self-deceit, by which we paint in imagina-
tion pictures which generally combine the form of Michael
Angelo, the colour of Titian, and the touching pathos of
modern sentimentality. This imaginary composition, in the
highest degree visionary and vague, even in imagination, is com-
pared with the actual work of some Royal Academician, much,
of course, to his disadvantage, and that of the institution to
which he belongs, and the student in time is really convinced
of his superiority : but a very simple test will rudely dissipate
such castles as these. Compare your work with work, not
imagination with work. You do not know what stately
castles your rivals also may build ; but, perhaps, like you
they find it difficult to realise their beauty on canvas.

This mental failing is of the same brood as another, which,
because it is so universal, generally escapes observation.

of the Session.

X^ f,Aj o*

Men complain of their position, their
their stature and looks, and think that Providence has dealt
hardly with them in these respects. But though mental
capacity is of as great or greater importance than any of
these, no man ever complains that he is short of it ; he is
always perfectly satisfied that in intellect, at least, he is equal
if not superior to even the best of his neighbours. He is
quite able to judge of the merits of any question, however
abstruse. His education, it is true, may unluckily have been
neglected, but he feels that the raw material is quite of the
best quality. Now, why is this ? Simply because the views
of a narrow mind are narrow. A man fancies he sees the
whole distance, but in reality the extent of his vision is the
measure of his own capacity. No doubt this blind conceit is
in some measure providential, for if even the greatest minds
could at once see all that is before them, few would venture
to set out on so long a journey. Let us hope, therefore, that
in so difficult a subject as art conceit may have its uses, and
a careful consideration of the foregoing train of thought re-
veals a danger in exactly the opposite direction ; that is, the
depressing effect of conscious inferiority when our knowledge
is much in advance of our execution.

Owing to the great facilities we enjoy of seeing original works
of the greatest men and the universal diffusion of engravings
and photographs, while at the same time our art education is
laboriously long and inefficient, this depression is one of the
commonest ailments among artists, particularly among those
of a sensitive nature. Their spirit is damped, and they are
starved for want of that pleasure, or, if you like to call it so, a
little of that very conceit I have just now condemned, a sort
of self-satisfaction in their work which exhilarates and
stimulates to fresh exertion, without which the pursuit of art
would be laborious indeed.

I have pointed out these pitfalls that you may the better
be able to steer your course between them, and I will con-
clude this address with the hope that steady study and manly
determination to face the difficulties of your art may enable
you to steer a straight course to true excellence, neither on the

s

Address on Commencement of the Session.

one hand be puffed up with empty pretension, or on the other
appalled by the greatness of your predecessors, or the steep-
ness of the heights that have to be mounted. Like an
opposite hill they are not as steep as they look ; and never
forget that even the biggest buildings are built by one stone
at a time.

ON SOCIAL AND PHYSICAL
ACCIDENTS.

LECTURE I.
INTRODUCTION.

WHEN we consider, not only the splendour of
Italian art, but the ease with which a mastery
of it seems to have been acquired, and see that
works which are still the admiration of the world were
produced at an age when even the most promising of our
students have scarcely mastered the rudiments of their art,1
we cannot but come to the conclusion that there is something
radically wrong with the art-education of our day. To trace
the true reasons of the barren results of our laborious systems
is an inquiry of the greatest moment, not only to us here who
are immediately concerned, but to the whole nation, and even
to the world.

' Raphael, invited to Rome at twenty-three, died at thirty-seven ;
Ghirlandaio was invited by the Pope at thirty ; Sebastian del Piombo had
mastered every excellence of art at thirty ; Julio Romano was twenty-two
when Raphael died ; Andrea del Sarto was invited by Francis I. at thirty ;
Giorgione died at thirty-four ; A. Carracci died at forty-nine ; Correggio
died at forty ; Parmigiano died at thirty-seven ; Guido had made a name
at twenty-five ; Rubens was only thirty-one when he returned to Antwerp
from Italy, where he had executed many fine works.

io Lecture /.

We cannot glance at the pages of Vasari without being
struck at what we should now regard as the wonderful pre-
cocity of the artists whose lives and whose works he so
eloquently describes. Their progress will appear still more
extraordinary if we consider that at this early age they knew
their business thoroughly, in a manner that even our most
experienced artists do not approach. Their workmanship
was unexceptionable ; it was not an ignorant striving after an
effect ; it was not the stuttering of a man trying to say
something in an unknown tongue, but the finished eloquence
of an accomplished rhetorician ; they knew their business and
did it. And this mastery of their craft is the secret of the
excellence as well as the profusion of their work ; for rapidity
of production not only enables more work to be done, but
it stimulates invention, while a multitude of works affords a
larger experience.

We must also take into account the scope of their education
and capacities. Nothing seemed to come amiss to the cinque-
cento artist ; he would often be at once a painter, a sculptor,
an architect, a designer in wood, in terra cotta, in silver and
in gold.

The extent and profusion of the work of the great Italians
makes our own art appear all the more mean and niggardly,
and we cannot turn from this wealth of intellect and of hand
to the petty aims and the feeble and flimsy results of modern
English art without a feeling of depression, I had almost said
of despair.

An artist now pursues his education in a laborious but
desultory manner, he is generally left to his own resources,
and has to learn art pretty much as Adam would have done.
He is tossed hither and thither by the varying art-theories
of the day, and is embarrassed and confused by the variety
of the different schools. With infinite pains and difficulty he
at last manages to express his ideas, and is enabled to tell
some story on canvas (the more pathetic it is the greater
artist is he considered), his process, if process it may be
called, is so laborious that he can produce but one, two, or
three pictures a-year : if you were to ask him to design an

Poverty of Modern Art. 1 1

inkstand> a cup, a chimney-piece, or a room, he would stare
with astonishment, and some little suspicion that you meant
to insult him, for are not such things done by altogether an
inferior grade of beings ? ornamental art is an art of a meaner
and less refined growth than his. If you ask his opinion
about the architecture of a house, the style of a painted
window, or a piece of goldsmith's work, if he is honest he will
tell you he knows nothing about such things, but if not he
will talk a great deal, but the more he talks the more will he
show his ignorance.

The painter knows nothing of architecture : the architect
of painting, he puts out his ornament in the same way as he
does his washing ! The sculptor confines his attention to
busts and statues, and is satisfied if they resemble his sitters.

The contrast in scope, quality and power between old and
modern art is so great and so marked that at first one is
almost persuaded that, measured by the giants of the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, we must be intellectual pigmies, but
I am certain that this is far from being the case.

In all other walks of life there seems no want of either
energy or invention, and the older I become the more I am
convinced that the very highest qualities of the painter or
the poet are by no means rare as far as conception is con-
cerned ; what is rare is the patient perseverance necessary to
mature and bring forth ideas, and to acquire the power of
expressing them. Are we then idle, or indifferent to art ? I
think not. Are then all the shortcomings of our art to be
attributed to defective education ? I answer, in a great mea-
sure they undoubtedly are, and it will be my object in these
lectures to point out the defects and suggest the remedies.

But lest it should be thought.that I ignore influences which
are independent of education, and art-education in particular,
I will briefly state those accidents of climate and country, and
those phases of modern life and thought which seem most
obviously to depress the vitality and weaken the growth of
art.

A southern climate seems to affect and elevate the imagina-
tion as much by its genial influence on the organisation of

12 Lectiire /.

man as by the beauty of the scenes it presents. In Italy, in
Greece and the countries which enclose the Mediterranean
Sea, existence is of itself a delight ; the heaven presents a
vaulted dome illimitable in extent, compared with which our
northern skies are but a dingy ceiling ; the clearness of the
atmosphere and the larger scale of nature alike expand the
view ; our conception of earth, the sea, the phenomena of
nature, is larger, more simple, and less trammelled with detail
than in our northern climes ; all things seem in the south to
approach nearer to an ideal type.

Travelling will afford to the stranger a temporary and per-
haps more exquisite enjoyment of southern scenes than is felt
by those who live in them, and the artist can lay up a store of
impressions for memory and imagination ; but I fear we must
conclude that those who are as it were habitually saturated
with the larger and more ideal aspects of nature and whose
life and faculties expand under their influence, must in the
long run be superior to those who dwell in a less genial
climate where their views are both literally and metaphorically
narrower.

It is in its effects on ideal art rather than on landscape
that the difference of climate will be perceived ; those aspects
of nature which most affect the imagination can seldom be
rendered in art ; the blue dome above cannot be painted, and
if it could, would certainly be surpassed in interest by the
infinite variety of a more clouded sky.

If we turn from the phenomena of nature to the works of
man in Italy and in England, we shall find the same relative
qualities in each.

Not only does the clearness of the atmosphere enable us
to see a city at a distance so that the eye comprehends it as
an object, but a city in Italy and in most continental states
has far greater compactness, unity, and individuality, than
with us ; and in the middle ages the aspect of a continental
city must have been imposing, it was enclosed with walls and
entered by gates flanked with frowning-towers ; this shutting
in clearly defined its limits so that it stood out distinct from
the country, but the mean and straggling suburbs of a modern

Climate and A rchitecture. 1 3

English town, neither town nor country, but each destroying
the beauty of the other, are deficient in all the qualities that
affect the imagination. Our climate T limits our out-door
enjoyments, and lessens the visible beauty of our lives, while
external decoration, statues, vases, fountains, and all the
paraphernalia of art, if possible in the north, are far less
appropriate than in the south, and even interior decoration is
affected by our want of light.

But it is in the scale of our architecture that our greatest
defect will be found ; and I wish some historian would explain
the almost universal meanness and pettiness of our buildings.
The long winter, and the long nights of a northern clime, may
excuse the smallness of our rooms, for it would be difficult
either to warm or light the more stately apartments of the
continent, and comfort and snugness are perhaps incompatible
with any degree of size and magnificence ; but our public
buildings, and even fortifications, which, if wanted at all, should
be as large here as on the continent, are equally contemptible.
The gateways, for instance, of Winchelsea (at the time they
were built a town of great importance, and obviously liable
to attacks from the French) are so small as to appear almost
like toys.

We are singularly unfortunate in the aspect of our towns,
and I know no greater contrast than is presented by those of
Belgium and Kent ; and it must be remembered that in this
case the difference cannot be attributed to climate, for the
latitude of each is about the same. In the Belgian cities there
is not only the Cathedral, but many churches hardly inferior
in size, and often of equal splendour. There is a Town Hall
rivalling the Cathedral itself; a Palace of Justice, a palace
indeed ; a residence fit for a prince, for the mayor ; houses of
architectural importance for its nobles and great merchants ;
vast hotels, and a general aspect of magnificence. How sad

1 In speaking of climate, I cannot omit to notice the depressing dulness
of our winter, and the loss of time from the shortness of the days, and the
frequent fogs, which put a stop to painting.

The loss of time from the absurd custom of never getting up till eight
o'clock is also very serious to artists, for daylight is to them an essential.

14 Lecture I.

is the contrast if we take such a town as Canterbury as an ex-
ample. There is, indeed, the Cathedral, a glorious church,
made still more glorious by its towering above everything
around it. There is the noble gateway of St. Augustine's,
there is VVestgate and the remains of a city wall, finer than is
usually to be found in England, but, alas ! what else ? Look
at the churches ! look at the Town Hall, the Corn Exchange,
and the markets ! How utterly contemptible ! There is not
one single building that is, I will not say above mediocrity,
but above meanness.

If the aspect of our cities is little likely to develope, or
encourage the love or the practice of art, an inquiry into the
cause of the universal meanness of our buildings will, I fear,
prove still more disheartening. In the English character
there is a sort of protest against show. How constantly we
hear the praises of the plain and unpretending, while every-
thing that is not absolutely necessary is condemned as extra-
vagant. A rate for a church or a town-hall is almost univer-
sally grudged, and every argument is used to reduce its size
or its splendour. Now as art is nothing more or less than
what is here meant by "show," the prospect of its flourishing
in so uncongenial an atmosphere is not very encouraging.

This natural contempt of appearances, or, in other words,
this stolid insensibility to art, has been exalted into a virtue
by the teaching of the Puritans, and the great mass of the
people, consisting of the majority of the middle classes, still
presents an obstacle impervious to its influence, and fatal to
the establishment of an art worthy of being called national ;
and gloomy indeed would be our prospects, were it not that
art can flourish as an exotic ; the chief things necessary being
an artist to work and a patron to pay.

There are, however, many signs of a hopeful change in the
national taste. In London, Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds,
and many others of our largest cities, there are not only many
buildings which will compete in size and architectural preten-
sion with the palaces of Italy, but the people at large take a
growing interest and pride in the grandeur of their city.

Having thus touched on climate and architecture, we will

Present Social Aspects. 15

note some of those phases of modern life and society that
seem also in some measure to account for the depression of
art. In the first place, modern life is more complex than it
was ; men, even in the humblest walk of life, cannot devote
their isolated attention to one object or occupation with the
intense devotion that was common in former days. With all
its advantages, the spread of literature has caused most of us
to waste a great deal of time in desultory reading and specu-
lations on every conceivable subject, particularly if it happens
to have nothing whatever to do with our business. We read
a great deal and think but little. The time spent, for instance,
in reading the newspaper is often worse than wasted, for it
weakens the intellect. We have lost that stern, simple,
almost hard conception and grasp that our forefathers had,
and of all professions that of art is perhaps the one that would
most suffer by the change.

I do not here say anything about the distractions of the
theories, and bewildering criticisms of the present day on art,
because I am now treating of those influences which are
accidental.

Another serious evil which artists have to contend against
is the universal ugliness of modern life. I need not speak
of the poor, how they toil and sweat, and what dull squalid
lives the poor labourers in our cities live (God grant they may
mend, but they seem to me to sink every day into a lower
depth of despond), but the life of even our most prosperous
classes is dreary, solemn, and ugly. This want of beauty and
grace, both in public and private life, deprives our artists of
the true source of inspiration, and makes the art sympathies
of the whole people dull and sluggish.

I need hardly say that touching and beautiful incidents are
common enough, but these are morally rather than physically
beautiful, and though it is very natural that artists should
endeavour to paint such incidents, it must not be forgotten
that the true field of art is the physical aspect of nature ; it is
not the special business of the artist to teach morality, or to
waken our dormant sympathies : he may tell a pathetic story

i 6 Lecture I.

on canvas without possessing the least artistic capacity, and
one of the least encouraging phases of modern art is this
tendency to evade its true sphere.

The stupid monotony of society, the excessive fear of doing
anything out of fashion, or of being thought peculiar or
demonstrative, has almost exterminated the expression of
action. The poetry of motion, and even a natural vivacity, is
rarely seen in good society. A fear of being thought out of
taste leads to no taste at all in externals. A correct neat-
ness has taken the place of beauty and splendour, and all
state, ceremony and array is laughed at as pretentious and
obsolete.

Men of position seem to shrink from observation by being
quite unobtrusive ; they wish to enjoy, without having the
courage to assert their rank ; they feel that in these unhappy
times their position is not cheerfully recognised by those
below them, for is not everyone not only equal, but better
than anybody else ? Where everyone is equally a gentleman,
the picturesque variety of dress fast dies out, and in a few
years hence, the men of half the globe will, without exception,
be dressed in tail-coats and chimney-pot hats.

Another cause, deeply affecting our national character and
our art, is the grinding, incessant toil, mental and bodily,
which we all undergo. To many it is necessary for their
daily bread, but to almost as many it is a self-imposed task ;
we so strive to improve our position, that we grudge ourselves
even a day's leisure. We have no gala days, no happy
holidays. We have nothing to supply the place of the saints'
days, and the splendid services of the church which afforded
to the artists of the middle ages a constant presentment of
picturesque action and gorgeous colour.

Almost every incident of life is less pictorial and less dra-
matic than it used to be. Compare, for instance, a charge of
knights in armour, or a hand-to-hand combat with ponderous
swords, with the mechanical rather than human action of a
modern battle, or the aspect of an old ship of war with that of
a modern monitor.

Then again our life is too secluded; we pride ourselves on

Ugliness of Modern L ife. 1 7

the comfort and respectability of domestic life, and shut our-
selves up with our families. Domestic life is no doubt adapted
to foster every virtue, but, oftener than we like to confess, it is
simply selfish, dull, and wearisome, and our very souls are
fretted away by the damned iteration of its petty and ignoble
details.1 If we revert from the stupidity of our lives, from the
dead and monotonous level, to the hills and picturesque
valleys of the society of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries,
when as yet philosophers had not instilled into the minds
of the people that all men are equal, and when even a tailor
was not ashamed of being a tailor, when rank was frankly
recognized and as frankly asserted and expressed by all its
surroundings, the pageantry and state, the picturesque variety
of a numerous retinue, the beauty of dress and equipage,
the trappings of horses, the sumptuous fittings of barge or
gondola, the palaces, gardens, and stately terraces, not only
contributed to the pride and pleasure of the rich and noble,
but as far as sight goes, were equally shared by all classes,
and life was made more beautiful thereby ; and wjiile all
these things afforded endless employment to artists of all
sorts, they presented a constant succession of pictures, varied in
form and subject, gorgeous in colour, and in the highest degree
stimulating to the development and appreciation of art.

We have as artists fallen on unfortunate times. We have
neither the picturesque variety of the old society nor the
splendid public life which might be possible in a republic
founded on the equality of man.

My personal sympathies are entirely in favour of what is
now regarded as an obsolete and impossible system, and I
dread the time — which as far as I can see is inevitable — when
the coarse and brutal will with vulgar insolence tread out all

1 The relation between master and servant, already difficult, will, thanks
to our philosophers, be very soon unbearable, and domestics having
degenerated into mere parasites, the middle classes will be compelled to
abandon a mode of life rendered intolerable by their irritation. It is not
impossible that our pent-up lives may in this way be forced into happier
and more social channels, and a collegiate or hotel system may perhaps
relieve our descendants from evils we now groan under in vain.

C

1 8 Lectiire I.

that is noble and good ; but our life is now so dull and ugly,
that, as an artist, I cannot help looking forward with hope to
a time beyond — a time which of course I shall never live
to see — when the worst phases of a detestable revolution are
over, and when the powers that produced it are again curbed,
and our own dull and selfish domestic existence shall have
widened into a happier and more public life, when the people
may themselves possess and enjoy the glory and refinement
of art.

With regard to the study of the nude figure, we can never
have the rare opportunities of the Greeks ; but the hardly
inferior art of the Renaissance, when the opportunities were
scarcely better than in our own day, ought to be some en-
couragement to us to strive to attain excellence by other if
more circuitous paths. We should never fail to avail our-
selves of any chances of seeing the figure in action. Among
half-stripped navvies, and the titanic forms of men employed
in gas and other plutonic works, in wrestling, running, athletic
sports, and more especially in bathing and football, we should
ever watch for and note the change of form in the muscles,
the balance of the figure, its harmonious line, and the vigorous
expression of its action.

LECTURE II.
ON MODERN THEORIES.

I HAVE already dwelt on the effects of climate, and those
aspects of society which, though not immediately con-
nected with art, explain in some measure the difference
between its ancient and modern development. We will now
proceed to those subjects which, though part and parcel of
art, cannot be considered as belonging to education, reserv-
ing the question of education for a subsequent lecture ; and
ilet us first consider what we may call the "subject" of art.

For a very considerable period it never occurred to an artist
to represent anything else than sacred subjects, and even
as late as the beginning of the seventeenth century the
subjects of two-thirds of the pictures were taken from the
Bible alone ; and even their arrangement and treatment were
often traditional ; they were, in short, ready made to the hand
of the artist. He had not to rack his brains to find out some-
thing strikingly original or pathetic. The real incidents of
Holy Writ, or the imaginary ones of tradition, afforded every-
thing he could wish for. Nothing could be more pathetic,
dramatic, picturesque, or forcible than the scenes he would
either choose for himself, or be commanded to paint by his
patrons ; but not only this, they were essentially ideal. I
mean by this that no one at that time ever thought it neces-

2O Lecture //.

sary to attempt to represent the scenes as they actually
occurred. Such a thought as this never crossed the mind of
either patron or painter. The artist took the incident and
told it in his own way. He arranged his subject, clothed his
figures, put in his backgrounds with the simple aim of telling
his story, and covering his canvas in the most forcible and
the most pictorial manner.1

Then again, when men felt a little weary of saints, and any
questionable story from Holy Writ was seized upon with
avidity, partly as a change, and breaking out of suppressed
human nature, and partly because it afforded an opportunity
of painting the female figure, the same manner of treatment
was adopted ; and I need not say that as the beautiful my-
thology of the Greeks gradually crept in (for the renaissance
was not a renaissance of art alone) the ideal treatment was
more than ever necessary.

The advantage of all this was enormous, the artist was able
to devote all his energies to art. Now-a-days the critics
compel him to be an historian, an antiquarian, a topographer,
and a geologist, and woe betide him if he neglect the minutest
detail.

If he wishes to paint a Scripture subject, he must set out
at once for the Holy Land, and there, by the aid of the best
commentators, must endeavour to find the exact scene of the
incident he has chosen to illustrate. The conservative ten-
dencies of the East will excuse or justify a convenient
adherence to the present costume, but does it ever occur to
these sticklers for literal truth that the whole aspect of the
country is altered, that what was then " a land flowing with
milk and honey " is now little better than a desert ? To

1 Scripture subjects are now supposed (I think erroneously) to be hack-
neyed. That artists should have a prudent reluctance to come into
direct rivalry with their great predecessors is only natural, and that those
who see in a picture only its subject should feel an objection to hang
sacred and profane subjects side by side, is not only natural but commend-
able ; but the dogma that such subjects should be confined to churches
(from which, however, they are practically banished), is only another
expression of the difference of thought in our own time and in the golden
ages of art.

Classics versus

restore the scene to any likeness of what it was two thousand
years ago, it would be necessary to clothe it with imaginary
verdure, a fraud of which no " conscientious " painter would
be either capable or guilty.

The study of Science, no doubt, directs attention to the
accuracy of the details rather than to the general beauty of
nature, and at the same time tends to the neglect of the
classics, which furnished inexhaustible subjects for ideal art,
but now the mythology of the Greeks, if we may believe our
philosophers, is altogether obsolete. As we no longer believe
their stories, we cannot and ought not to be impressed by
them, and therefore they afford the worst of all subjects for
art. I am really almost ashamed to state anything so obvious
as that the beauty of a story does not consist in its truth in
the sense that the facts related actually took place, and that
half the stories of the old mythology are allegories which are
as true now as ever they were, and that everyone who is not
a philosopher understands and feels their beauty in precisely
the same manner as the more intelligent of the Greeks did
themselves. No one knew better than Apuleius that the his-
tory of Cupid and Psyche was not true ; yet, if our philosophers
are right, he, of all men, would have been the least able to
appreciate its beauty.

The scale of pictures is also a matter which has a most
important bearing on their treatment ; and, of course, on
all the qualities of art. The palaces and churches of Italy
afforded vast spaces for painting, and I need hardly point
out the enormous impetus given to art by the Roman Catholic
religion, which, I will not so much say eagerly welcomed art,
as that art was part of it, and grew up spontaneously with it.

Now, let us contrast all this with what happens in our own
day, and in our own country. The religion of England till
quite recently spurned art from her doors. This was, no
doubt, in some measure a reaction against art, which had
become mindless, meretricious, and degraded, but I fear we
must attribute it in a far greater measure to the general
opinion of Protestants, that art is out of place in a church, an
opinion which no serious artist can for a moment entertain.

22 Lecture II.

As far as architecture is concerned, there is, no doubt, a change
in popular feeling, and the whole country is covered with
churches, many of great architectural beauty, and all showing
an aesthetic, and not merely utilitarian motive, and even
Wesleyans and Primitive Methodists build meeting houses
with a pretension and adornment which twenty years ago
they would not have scrupled to have set down as mere
trappings of "the scarlet whore"; but although architecture
has a place in the service of the church, with few exceptions
painting is still banished, and although there may be a growing
feeling in one party of the church in its favour, the scale,
and consequently the treatment of pictures, must still be
small as long as Gothic architecture is alone considered
proper for churches ; for the peculiarity and leading defect of
that style is that all the spaces which are adapted for paintings
are cut up into small angular and spiky shapes.

Our ordinary houses afford no encouragement for large
pictures, and even those of the nobility are for the most
part cramped and petty, and present no spaces, where owners
have the taste, for mural paintings of large or ideal subjects.

And here I cannot omit to note the enormous advantage
the old artists had over ourselves in the inspiriting effect of
conscious progress. Every day some fresh advance was made,
some quality of nature was seized and absorbed by the sympa-
thetic appreciation of some great mind, which seemed as it
were to cast Nature in a new mould, and exhibit her to the
admiration of the world. Artists advanced as an army in
majestic progress over the whole domain of nature, they had
not, as we have, the depressing consciousness that, take what
path we may, we shall find some greater than ourselves have
been there before us ; and though the same flowers are growing
there as of old, we find them inscribed with the names of others.
Hampered by the fear of plagiarism, scared by the screams
of critics, we are almost afraid to walk in any of the great
avenues of nature, lest we should be accused of hanging on
the skirts of someone who has gone that way before, and men
even of power are content to seek laborious byeways, which
from their very pettiness, have escaped the notice of their

Want of Ideal Art. 23

great predecessors, merely that they may enjoy the empty
satisfaction of fancying themselves original.

We have noticed the effect of our climate, the aspect of our
cities, the tendencies of modern society and thought, the uni-
versal ugliness of our life, the banishment of art from our
churches, the study of science to the neglect of the classics,
and have seen how adverse to art, and particularly to ideal
art, all these things are, but, disastrous as is their effect, it is,
I believe, as nothing compared with the baneful influence, the
distraction and error caused by modern theories and criticism,
and I particularly wish you to note that it is against ideal art
that the tendencies and aspects of modern society seem to
conspire. These are, unluckily, for the most part beyond our
immediate control ; but the art theories to which we submit
our judgments are entirely of our own making and accept-
ance ; and here I must pause to answer an objection to the
revival of ideal art which will probably occur to you. If the
tendency of modern thought is adverse to ideal art, does not
that prove it to be out of harmony with the spirit of the age,
and therefore out of place altogether ? Now, that is a very
important question.

I quite admit that the characteristics of modern art are
explained and to some extent excused by the circumstances
and aspects of modern life, and that they are in that sense
entirely in harmony with them ; but surely you would not
say that because our life is ugly, therefore our art should be
ugly too ? is it not exactly the reverse ?

If the tendency of scientific pursuits is to go into minute
detail, is it not above all things desirable that our minds
should be brought to contemplate general beauty ? If we
are pent up in cities, and lead ungraceful lives, is not that the
very reason why our souls should be refreshed by the glory
of the ideal ? Of what use, I may ask, is art if it cannot
minister to the natural aspirations of man for beauty, and is
the fact that there are so few outlets for these aspirations to
be pleaded as a reason why we should keep closed the portals
of the temple of art ? If photography can for sixpence pro-
duce us a profusion of minute detail, it cannot surely be a wise

24 Lecture //.

economy for man to waste laborious hours in competing with
it, while he neglects that noble part of his nature from which
alone can proceed the poetry of art. That we are alive to all
the beauty of the poets notwithstanding the ugliness of our
lives, and that even the most degraded are acutely sensitive
to music, should prove to us what hidden stores of mysterious
sympathies lie deep in the heart of man, only to be awakened
and kindled by the master spell. Are we to shut up one
great avenue to our senses and souls at the mere dictation of
critics ? And you must remember that though the circum-
stances I have stated in my former lecture may make the
production of ideal art more arduous, the appreciation of it
would in every educated person be made more keen by con-
trast ; but so long as critics conspire to run down every
attempt at ideal art as conventional, pretentious, and acade-
mic, artists will not go through the training that is necessary
to produce it ; and at present imitative art is a necessity to
most of them, for, to say nothing of their indifference to the
great principles of nature and art as well, few can move a
step without the model before them. For this reason it is to
be feared that the artists themselves will side with the critics,
and the leaven which will elevate our art must come from
such men as Watts, Leighton, and Stevens, the remnant left
in Israel, who alone know enough about their business to be
able to produce ideal art.

Art is a perfect paradise for philosophers ; unlike any other
profession or business, any preliminary knowledge is quite
unnecessary in those who profess to teach it. A little in-
genuity will enable them to bring into every discussion the
principles of "harmony," " truth," " beauty," and " the eternal
laws of nature," while religion and even God himself are often
pressed into their service.1 Then the corpus vile on which they
operate is delightfully sensitive, and neither our artists nor

1 Nothing would better aid the cause of Art education than a general
consensus that its principles were as independent of religion, sentiment
and morality, as those of Music are luckily already held to be. Art is
Christian, Pagan, anything, and is equally at home in the church, the
temple, or the theatre. The odes of Sappho were no doubt finer as poems

The Harm done by Theories. 25

the public are sufficiently educated to see how supremely
ludicrous the whole business is. I would willingly have
passed over in silence what, God help us ! is called the philo-
sophy of art, and have refrained from adding to the heap of
rubbish, which I regard as the greatest nuisance of the age,
were it not that, having watched its deadly effect, I should
hardly be doing my duty if I did not at least attempt to
provide some disinfectant which might render you safe from
the worst symptoms of this pestilence, and put you in a position
of tolerable safety.

Art can be viewed in so many aspects that we need not be
surprised at the variety of opinions upon it, or that those
opinions are expressed with a confidence in proportion to the
narrowness of the view taken of it ; it naturally is so, for a
larger view alone reveals its difficulty ; but it is impossible to
trace the thread of error through the various opinions and
theories of the day in one, two, or even a dozen lectures, and
the attempt to do so would increase the very nuisance we wish
to abate. These theories are for the most part the lucubra-
tions of amateurs and critics, and even the best of them are of
little practical use. We should remember, too, that a fool can
state more fallacies in an hour than a wise man can refute in
a week ; but he would not be a wise man, and certainly not a
wise artist, if he attempted to do so, for he would spend his
time better in work, which, after all, is the best teacher ; so, as
a general rule, those who are the least worth hearing do all

than the most pious of Dr. Watts's Hymns, perhaps even than some of
the Psalms of David himself ; and Michael Angelo's picture of Leda and
the Swan in our National Gallery cellars, is altogether as fine in art as the
religious pictures in the gallery above ; it is, in fact, as free from these
considerations as arithmetic or algebra are luckily admitted to be.

If our youth were bewildered by goody-goody speculations as to the
comparative morality of the decimal or duodecimal systems of notation,
we may be certain that their sums would not be any the more accurate
for volumes of such irrelevant nonsense.

If we only sow the seed in a soil of liberty and truth it will need no such
questionable maynure as pious frauds. It is obvious that in so complicated
and subtle a matter as Art, the more extraneous subjects can be elimi-
nated the better.

26 Lecture II.

the talking, and have it their own way, while those that are
silent are the wisest, and the best worth hearing if they could
be persuaded to speak, and we should treasure the short and
pregnant remarks that may fall from the lips of a great artist,
for they will be found of more use than whole pages of windy
theories.

Nevertheless, these theories so encumber the threshold of
art that it is necessary to clear away some of their sophis-
tries, and I will, as far as possible, take a general survey of
their tendencies, pointing out how partial and one-sided their
teaching is.1

1 Dogmas are apt to ossify and impede the vital energy they are intended
only to guide, and systems often deaden the spirit and create greater evils
than they prevent. Every one who has had any experience in teaching
art knows how difficult it is to tell anything with effect and yet without
exaggeration, and I have often felt that it would have been much better to
have said nothing, and let the student find out facts for himself, in his own
way, by work. If, then, this is true of material facts, which are obvious
and can be measured with the calipers, how much more likely are dogmas,
which deal with intellectual subtleties, to lead the student into difficulties ?
for the exaggeration which they probably produce in his mind is not de-
tected by the master in the way exaggeration of facts is sure to be in his
work ; for these reasons the greatest teachers have taught by parable
rather than precept. Students, as well as masters, should fairly recognize
these difficulties, and as far as possible guard against them.

But though I am deeply sensible of the evils of systems, and am most
reluctant to add to the number of theories that already perplex the student,
I find it is not only necessary to have a thread on which to string my
beads — for my business is to teach, and, like any other business, it must
be conducted with method and order ; — but I am obliged to meet the
heresies of the day with their own weapons. We seem to want a sort of
Athanasian creed of art, not even omitting the damnatory clauses.

In teaching principles of art, we should not altogether ignore the fact
that some are fitted for youth, and others for more advanced artists. A
healthy intellect is not unlikely to progress through the whole scale of art.
Modestly beginning with a suppression of his individuality, which he in-
tuitively feels is neither definite nor powerful enough to influence his work
for good, cultivating nature with devout reverence and patient imitation ;
then perhaps carried away by the fever of Ruskinism, and for some time
delirious ; then emerging from beautiful but bewildering labyrinths into
the open plain of free and manly art ; and finally, charged with knowledge
and imbued with artistic power, he mounts to the ideal. We may even
regard the minor heresies as intellectual measles or whooping-cough,

The Ideal Theory of Art. 27

We have already seen that the general tendency of modern
thought is towards realism ; but modern theories, as a rule, go
farther, and entirely exclude the ideal, and art is taught as an
imitation of nature alone, while criticism has become little
more than a rigid comparison between the details of a picture
and the details of nature.1 If we trace these heresies to their
root, we shall find it in the exclusion of man ; in the specula-
tions of our philosopher the artist is altogether omitted.
Now, art is not nature, but, as Emerson says, " it is nature
passed through the alembic of man " — a sentence worth all Mr.
Ruskin's philosophy ; — art is not a photograph, but a mans
view of nature, and for this reason it enlists our human sym-
pathies. It is not so much the imitation of nature as the
expression of man, the Ideal is the very soul of art arid its
glory.

The perfect artist is a man who is in love with visible
Nature, who studies and understands her aspects, assimilates
them with his own nature, and reproduces them from his
heart. He takes rank as an artist, not from his poetry, though
that may be intimately connected with his art, not from his
teaching, not from his sympathy with this or that human
feeling, but from his ability to seize and render the aspects of
nature with power and truth. Physical beauty is his own
highest sphere, beauty of form, of colour, light and shade, and
composition of line. He has a vivid apprehension of the
exquisite gradation and subtle quality of nature, and this
produces in his work similar qualities of his own. He
assimilates most readily those phases of nature which are
most in accordance with his own idiosyncrasy, so that art is as
varied as the different temperaments of the artists, sometimes
impetuous, sometimes gentle, sometime gorgeous, sometimes

which, let us hope, may have some mysterious beneficial effect on the con-
stitution, though I must confess I have never been able to trace any.

1 Modern criticism, if listened to, will kill art. Just for one moment
consider its effect on such men as Rubens or Rembrandt. If they had
lived in these times, and been of a sensitive nature, they would have been
written into imbecility. Those only are safe who have no individuality of
their own-

28 Lecture //.

quiet; but by this assimilation the poetic result is always
harmonious ; it is not so much an intellectual selection of facts
or qualities as that the artist is involuntarily en rapport with
those things congenial to his nature. The dwelling on
certain aspects to the exclusion of others equally obvious,
perhaps, to the generality of mankind, produces what the
thoughtless call exaggeration, but what in reality is true to
the artist's nature and to art. He will take the incidents of a
story, and mould them in his own way ; he will dispose his
figures with dramatic emphasis and effect ; light and shade
and colour will not only be in accordance with the character
and action of the scene, but will be so disposed as to cover the
space ornamentally, and the first view of his picture before any
subject is recognized, or even distinguishable, will reveal the
artist's individuality and power. His work will always bear
his stamp, and though details in it which he may never have
noticed may be wrong, it will nevertheless have those grand
characteristics which are the outcome of a noble nature and a
large calibre of mind.1

Let us now consider the modern theories of art which are
founded on realism.

Nature is regarded as too perfect to be mixed up with the
human failings or caprices of the artist ; if he has a proper
reverence for her, he will be content to represent what he sees
with pious elaboration, any tendency towards his own indi-
viduality is at once a proof of conceit in himself, of mannerism,
exaggeration, and error in his work. He may, indeed, con-
ceive or patiently think out how the incidents of such and
such a scene occurred, but directly he admits in his mind the
wish to compose, or in other words, to make a picture, he has
fallen from the truth into a low, selfish and sensual view of his

1 Turner is perhaps the most splendid example of the true artistic tem-
perament, and oddly enough his works are often quoted and appealed to
as examples of pre-Raffaellite or imitative art. They are exactly the re-
verse, being, with few exceptions, the rendering of his impressions, and I
very much doubt if Turner ever painted a picture (I do not mean a sketch)
direct from nature.

GENERAL
CHARACTERISTICS.

SCALE

REALISTIC AND IMITATIVE POLE.

Literal statement of facts.

Detail and attention to minutiae and their individual truth.

Native or assumed ignorance of principles.

No composition.

POSITION OF <
SCHOOLS.

PRINCIPLE OF
LIGHT AND SHADE.'

COLOUR. /
FORM. J

MATERIAL AND
SIZE.

ARCHITECTURE. ,

!

ORNAMENT. 1

Modern art.

F

Dutch.

Pre-Raffaelite.

No system ; effect High lights sparkling Shadov
generally petty, hard, but spotty ; breadth and more t
spotty. gives way to detail; lights foe
illusive and imitative brought up
motive. into the sh
ciple of c
founded o
Everything and anything. resque arra
focussed li

Tendency to be poor. True and natty. Transparent.
Accidental and staring.

Commonplace and petty ; Ordinary nature. Gre
much cut up by detail. fc
b

Finished surface. Neat. R
Any material that is smooth and neat. More an
Small.

Utilitarian motive.
Exhibition of real construction.
Economy of material.
Detail.
Complexity. Picturesque effect.
Arches larger and larger, supports
Surface more and more cut up
architecturally solid, a

Crystal Palace. Perpendicular. Decorated.

Naturalistic ; wanting in sym- A more pictorial treatm
metry and firmness. resque effect, and less a
herence to ornamental

N.B. — The gradation of qualiti

F ART.

cturesque composition.

IDEAL AND CONVENTIONAL POLE.

Artistic conception of subject.
General truth, simplicity, and breadth.
Knowledge of the principles of nature and art.
Severe composition.

Cinque-cento Art.

tsh.

Florentine and Roman.

Venetian.

larker

Shadows darker ;

Broad simple sha-

Flat,

severe, with

parent ;

lights more luminous,

dow melting into the

little or

no attempt at

d, and

giving an effect of

light, so that the

shade or roundness.

h force

force and clearness ;

unity of the object is

v; prin-

but surface is not so

not destroyed; com-

)osition

evenly or ornamen-

position evenly distri-

pictu-

tally covered.

buted.

nent of

and forcible. Luminous, clear. Grave and opaque. Flat, barbaric.

complexity and detail ;
though fine, is hid
iperies.

Great attention to form ;
breadth ; masses not
cut up.

Conventional ;
sometimes grotesque.

n surface and quality.
>re transparent varnish or oil.
Medium.

Even, but granulated. Rough.

Fresco ; distemper ; mosaic.

Large.

./Esthetic motive.

Self-imposed law of imaginary construction.
Profusion of material.

Mass.
Variety. Symmetry. Simplicity.

Arched. Trabeated. Solid,

panels, the styles alone being Solidity, with surface architec-

leir surfaces essential. turally essential.

Palladian. Roman. Greek. Egyptian,

nglish. Norman. Romanesque.

pictu- Evenly distributed ; but with reces-
ssad- sion of background; variety sub -
:iples. ordinated to symmetry.

to be read from right to left.

Conventional ; flat ; plain ; severe ;
symmetricaJ4.je.venly distributed ;
without recession of background.

XTNI.V°ETRSITT

The Scale of Art. 29

art. His business is to tell the story exactly as it occurred,
any obtrusion of himself or his art is an impertinence.

These are the two theories of art. They occupy two opposite
poles, and between them all art vibrates, on one side the real,
on the other the ideal ; as this prevails that wanes, and each
quality of art ranges itself naturally on one side or the other.
On this an ascetic denial of self, and a patient elaboration of
detail, a careful statement of facts or incidents with an innocent
or contemptuous ignorance of those qualities which may be
called artificial ; on that a strong individuality, a generalization
of facts and form, a dramatic and pictorial motive, a profound
knowledge of the science of art. On this side, simple faith ;
on that, conscious power.

A system founded on the frank acceptance of these two
opposite principles of art, and the several qualities appertaining
to each, will furnish us with the key to all our difficulties. It
presents at one view the whole scheme of art. It is the solu-
tion of its history, and explains its harmony at anyone period.
It will prove an antidote to the theories of the day, and while
it accepts the residuum of truth at the bottom of every
heresy, it will destroy the influence of charlatans. It is a sure
guide to all the difficulties of education, and points out the
only road to greatness. It shows the necessity of the science
of art, and is the basis on which its true order rests. It
reunites the various branches of art which are now severed,
and gives its proper place to ornament. In order to fix this
scheme in your memory, and also that we may the more
readily refer to it in future lectures, I have constructed the
accompanying diagram. (See diagram on last page.)

You will notice that the general tendency of old, or cinque-
cento art is towards the ideal pole ; of modern art towards
the imitative pole. Antique art, as far as we know, was also
ideal. Sculpture is so necessarily, for a high degree of gene-
ralization can alone elevate it from the commonplace ; and
the feebleness of modern sculpture is more generally shown
in empty flaccid form, than by an over elaboration of detail.
In the gradual progress from ideal to imitative art, which
we may trace historically in nearly all its phases, we shall

30 Lectitre II.

always find Sculpture lagging behind, reluctantly leaving the
field in which alone its capacities and qualities can be developed;
and the same tendency is more obvious still in architecture,
which is necessarily non-imitative. Architecture seems to go
through a regular graduation of changes from aesthetic to
utilitarian principles ; from principles founded upon self-im-
posed laws of imaginary construction, to those founded on the
necessities of actual construction, the prevailing feature of
the first being profusion, of the second economy of material ;
the one being concomitant and co-temporaneous with ideal
painting, the other with imitative painting. The principle
of the civil engineer, which unfortunately so much influences
the art of our own day, is to use as little material as possible,
while the architect uses mass as an element of expression. In
tracing the progress of art, and I presume in any other study,
nothing excites one's astonishment so much as the extraordi-
nary harmony of its different qualities and developments at
any one period. This order seems eminently natural, and at
the same time profoundly subtle, it is so simple and complete,
and at the same time so complex, intricate and interdependent,
that the want of any one element, often apparently accidental,
would destroy the harmony and effect of the whole ; social,
political, and physical agencies seem always exactly in accord
with the aesthetic feeling and power of the artists of the time,
and even with the materials in which they worked. These
considerations often lead me to think that good art is entirely
intuitive ; that to teach it is not only a waste of time, but not
improbably injurious to its spontaneous growth and develop-
ment ; that if it were only left alone, our art would be an
exact reflection of the age, and if it were possible to influence
it, we should only change it from natural to artificial, we
should only be cultivating, at a great expense of time and
labour, an exotic which had no real place in the country, and
in no way illustrated its climate and surroundings. If these
then are my opinions, it may be asked, " Why say anything ? "
to which I answer, If modern theories which seem to me so
disastrous to art, are a phase of modern thought, am not I
also a modern, and should not I, holding the opinions I do,

Architecture. 31

be guilty of culpable apathy if I refrained from shouting out
as loudly as I could, " Come back to the old paths ? " The
pendulum seems to have almost kicked the beam of imitation,
it is impossible for art to be less ideal than it is. Is not a re-
action against Realism natural, and to be expected ? and the
result will, I hope, prove that I am more in harmony with the
age, than those who differ from me.

There are many reasons for concluding that art must now be
necessarily eclectic ; if so, it must cease to be spontaneous, and
must needs be the studied result of intellect, taste, and learn-
ing ; at all events, the revival of cinque-cento art cannot be
more artificial than that of Gothic, and I cannot be wrrong in
pointing out its order, refinement, and beauty, and comparing
it with styles, which according to some have a patent for all
the virtues, and are alone " Christian and true."

But to return to Architecture, nothing is more instructive
than to watch the gradual change from the Roman to Gothic,
and its different phases ; all these changes are perfectly
natural, they may be said to have been almost dictated by
necessity. Each is a development of a former style, a disin-
tegration, a breaking up into smaller parts, an economizing of
material ; but when we see clearly all this, we cannot but ask
ourselves is this process good, is disintegration a good principle
in art ? is economy of material aesthetically good ? Now,
though we cannot but admire the splendid results of the Gothic
system, I am compelled to answer, No. It is not my intention
to rush into the battle of the styles, but rather to state clearly
the different principles and qualities which belong to each.
When the province of each is clearly defined and understood,
there surely ought to be no further need of fighting.

Let us briefly note the order of the changes in architecture.
Beginning with Egyptian, simplicity and mass were at first
entirely predominant, buildings were almost solid, temples
were hewn out of the rock, or built to appear so, economy
was thousands of years distant, and ornament, if admitted
at all, was entirely flat and conventional, but architecture
became gradually more slender and ornate, although, com-
pared with subsequent styles, still pre-eminently massive

32 Lecture II.

and at length, in the hands of the Greeks, changed into a
style of greater elegance and refinement, but still stable, firm,
and severe ; it had the perfect repose of a system which con-
tains within itself no element of destruction, it was complete,
simple, integrate, but there was necessarily a limit to its size.
The Greeks were in all things moderate, their country and
numbers were moderate, there is a moderation, a refined re-
ticence in their work : their architecture could hardly have
been possible, it certainly would not have been appropriate,
under other conditions ; trabeated architecture cannot be
magnified, for stone beams cannot be found of sufficient
strength and size ; their temples and buildings were big
enough for the Greeks, but not for the Romans, and bridging
over larger spaces made the arch a necessity, for without it,
architecture could not have continued its use.1 The arch once
admitted, it is interesting to watch the gradual way in which
it destroys the members of the old style, hard to die though
they be. Let us, for instance, take the column and cornice.
Permitted for some time to share the honours, if not the real
power, on equal terms with the arch, the balance between
them remained for some time apparently pretty even, and
though it may be said that the column and cornice were
ornamental, or were only allowed such occupation as might
excuse their existence, they had the prestige of antiquity, and
contributed to the strength, state, and splendour of the build-
ing ; but when the arch had greater use in vaulting, when
vaulting turned, as it were, buildings outside in, and above all,
when greater economy was felt to be necessary, those parts of
the building which did the work began to assert themselves,
and the royal family of column and cornice, not only lost the
pretence of occupation, but was shorn of its splendour ; it no
longer remained united, but was cut up into parts, each with
its capital, but the cornice no longer crowned it. Stripped of
its ornament, it was pushed out of the way, and becoming less
and less respected, its existence at last was only marked by

1 It is not sufficiently considered, that iron now does away with the
necessity of the arch.

Painting. 33

an insignificant stringcourse running above the arches, which
had gradually subverted its power.

The column was more fortunate, and being found useful
under the new order of things, it went through a series of
modifications, and was finally absorbed in the pier. The
capital shared the fate of the column, became less and less im-
portant, but instead of being absorbed, disappeared altogether ;
and the continuation of the mouldings of the arch down the
sides of the pier, without anything to indicate the spring of the
arch, marks at once the last phase of Gothic, and the complete
obliteration of the vestiges of a former style. Now, mark how
every step in the process was from unity to disintegration,
from mass to detail, from aesthetic to utilitarian construction.
Economy led to the openings exceeding the mass ; material
became more and more drawn out and attenuated ; arches
and windows became larger and larger.1

Similar changes are obvious in painting. We can trace the
same steps, though their chronological sequence may not be so
continuous as in architecture. Mass is abandoned for detail,
severity for picturesque effect, breadth and simplicity for bril-
liancy and force. Each change is not only excusable, but it is
natural, for it is the development of some principle of nature,
and the source of new beauty. It is nevertheless a falling
away from the noblest style of art.

Beginning with barbaric and grotesque, but severe and
impressive Mosaics, which were flat conventional diagrams,
rather than any imitation of nature, we by degrees come to
more perfect art, the severity of which is in no way owing
to want of knowledge or skill ; its qualities are selected by
unerring intuition, or the most profound judgment ; every-
thing is broad, simple, severe, ideal. Mass is not cut up by
detail, colour does not interfere with form by a too obtrusive
brilliancy, shadow is sufficent to display form and make the

! The Crystal Palace is nothing but an extravagant development of
Gothic principles. It is interesting to watch the most thoughtful of the
Goths beginning silently, but not unnoticed, to retrace their steps. We
cannot expect them to be renegades, but their leaning to greater
simplicity and mass is a most favourable omen.

D

34

Lectitre II.

lights luminous without producing a contrast which might
interfere with the majestic uniformity of the whole composi-
tion. This art has all the great essentials of mural decora-
tion, and is large in scale ; it lies close to the ideal pole of our
diagram, and all the rules of decorative art have here their
fullest force. Such is the finest art of the Roman and
Florentine schools : but complete in ther own style, and in
every way admirable though they were, it is obvious that
many qualities of nature, and those perhaps the most brilliant
and seductive, had no place in them, and the progress of art
towards greater force, brilliancy and complexity commands
our sympathies ; lights become brighter by contrast with
darker shadows, darker shadows require transparency, trans-
parency a smoother surface and finish, which invites and pro-
duces a greater attention to realism. The light which before
bathed the larger art became more limited, local, and intense.
The Venetians seem to have combined as many of the
greatest qualities of art as were compatible with their
opposing natures. Focussing was not carried to a point
which would have destroyed the decorative distribution of
the subject. Though splendid, transparent, and gorgeous in
colour, their art still remained large. It was large, too, in
scale. It was not unfitted for walls ; the lesser qualities of art
which are more fitted for easel pictures had not as yet the
predominance ; though their work was the most perfect render-
ing of nature, it was of its larger qualities. It was focussing
which first rendered it impossible to incorporate in the new
system the greater qualities of the older art. It is essentially
at variance with the principles of mural decoration, for it
destroyed the surface, or the apparent solidity of the wall.

Yet the principle of focussing achieved a series of triumphs
in painting not less brilliant than those of the Gothic principle
in architecture ; and detail which interfered with the breadth
and finish which would have destroyed the effect of larger
work which was to be viewed from a distance, was welcomed
with pleasure in pictures which were close to the eye. The
smaller the work the more are we pleased with realism and
the minutest detail, and Dutch art seems to have carried to its

Use of the Scak. RSIT T

iW
highest legitimate conclusion the artistic rendering of the

ordinary incidents of life.1 Thus do we descend in natural
sequence through all the qualities of art. We go through
precisely the same phases that we did in architecture, from
simplicity, breadth, and largeness both of style and material,
to complexity, disintegration, detail, realism, and finish, and
it is not only in the great divisions of painting and architecture
that this degradation is to be detected. All the subordinate
branches of art go through similar phases. In pottery, for
instance, we not only note the same changes in the art as a
whole, changes from Hispano — Moresque to Majolica, from
Majolica through several steps to the more finished but
meretricious Sevres, but each new style has its own successive
epochs ; and we may see the same order in Nature herself. In
youth a cheek or an eye is, we may say, treated as a whole,
which in after years becomes cut up into parts and marked by
details which more and more exhibit the construction, and the
higher the rank of any organism, the more grand and simple
is its form, and the more concealed its mechanism. The con-
tours of the human figure are round, massive, firm. The word
" full " perhaps best expresses their quality. The body itself
and each limb is as far possible treated as a whole ; though
in reality containing machinery the most intricate and subtle of
all, there is no external indication of it ; but the general aspect
of the lower types of life is angular, minute, and intricate, owing
to the multiplication of their parts and the obvious exhibition
of their organs and mechanical structure. The beauty of one is
of an entirely different sort to the beauty of the other ; the first
belongs to the right hand of our scale, the other to the left.

A complete comprehension of the whole scale of art, so
.arranged, will luckily render it unnecessary to go into the
various theories of the day. We are here to study ornamental
art, and so our position and our wants are tolerably clearly

1 If we look through a magnifying glass at our fingers, we see with
.astonishment a style finer than that of Michael Angelo or Phidias ; while
seen through a diminishing glass, objects have a limpidity and neatness
unequalled by Van Eyck himself ; the one view exhibits all the qualities of
jjreat art, the other the picturesque sparkle of detail.

36 Lecture II.

defined. We need not waste our time in running up and
down the scale of art, not knowing exactly where to rest ; we
can at once lay our finger on those qualities of art which will
be of use to us ; we know what we have got to learn, and
need not trouble ourselves with the lucubrations of the critics.
If, however, any particular philosopher should force himself
on our notice, we have only mentally to put him down in his
proper place in our scale, and we know very well where that
is, and what even his unexpressed opinions are (for there is
a harmony in any one's opinions at any given time) ; but I
would give you one caution, never let yourselves be drawn
even mentally into any abstract disquisition as to whether
this or that phase of art is of itself true or false. You will
only waste time in such endless and unprofitable subjects as
these. If a pre-Raffaelite says his system is true, and all
others false, you have only to classify him, and you at once
see that he will be of no use to us who work on totally
different principles.

I shall from time to time notice some of the most obtrusive
heresies of the day, but I shall do so in order to illustrate and
confirm a system in which I am confident you will find the
solution of all theoretical difficulties, while its practical use
will gradually unfold itself before you. I can at present do
little more than state it ; but in future lectures I shall show
how all the qualities of art, the various treatment of shadow
and form, and even the size of pictures and materials, range
themselves in natural order in the scale of art.

But with regard to modern theories of art there is one thing
which I should like you to observe, and that is, that almost all
of them can be traced to one root, namely, the denial or
ignoring of the supremacy, I had almost said the divinity, of
man. As we have already seen, man is excluded in the
modern speculations on art. All is reverenced as nature
except man, who is its crowning glory. His ideas are treated
as eminently unnatural, and in every way to be mistrusted.

The relation of man to nature is a subject so vast and so
obscure that a philosopher may state anything he chooses
about it, and can easily escape into clouds and darkness ; but

The Two Methods of Study. 37

as far as these heresies affect art, it is a remarkable fact, as
interesting as it is fortunate, that the study of the human
figure will provide their antidote.

The pre-Raffaelites, "true principle" men, and modern
Goths, have an intuitive perception of this, and it is only
natural that they should oppose a study which will infallibly
annihilate them. The process gone through in one's own
mind will certainly repeat itself on a larger scale, and the
modern theories of art will inevitably fall before a systematic
study of the divine and all-comprehensive form of man.1

From a consideration of the diagram it will be seen that
while neither knowledge nor the science of art are essential to
the patient imitation of nature, it is impossible to carry out
the practice of ideal art without the attainment of both to a
degree which increases, as we more nearly approach the oppo-
site pole. If you consider the practical carrying out of the
two methods of art, viz., the imitative and the ideal, you will
at once understand all their difference. To produce imitative
art nothing is required but patience. A greater or less degree
of executive power will affect the time taken in its production
rather than its final result. If your patience is unlimited, and
the thing represented will remain long enough, there is no
reason why you should despair of eventual success ; for this
sort of work knowledge is not only unnecessary, but is to be
deprecated ; it will not alter the appearance of the object, and
that is all that should concern you, while it might lead you
astray, and tempt you to deviate from particular truth ; and
if you are painting from a model, you should adhere literally
to all its individual details.

1 If Mr. Ruskin should ever devote his serious attention to the study
of the Figure, I have no hesitation in saying his views on art would be
entirely changed ; his descriptions of nature are magnificent ; I wish his
theories were no worse than bewildering. At present all one side of art,
and that the greatest, is, from an artist's point of view, almost a sealed
book to him, and I cannot but hope that the day will come when it will be
considered a presumptuous thing for a man to pretend to teach artists
their business without knowing anything of the Figure, which alone con-
tains all the principles of Art.

38 Lecture II.

But if you want to paint an ideal subject, and are wicked
enough to wish to compose a fine picture, you are at once
involved in all the difficulties of art. You must take care that
the lines compose well; that masses of light and shade are
properly placed, that the colour is harmonious, and that all
these things are treated in character with the subject, and fill
the canvas ornamentally. If you paint from a model, you
will find that the meanness of ordinary nature does not ex-
press what you intend ; instead of some hero, your figure
provokingly persists in looking like Smith (why it should not
it is perhaps difficult to say), and you will find that generali-
zation is as absolutely necessary in art as it is in poetry.

Say, for instance, you have an idea of a figure reposing in
contemplation, see what difficulties you at once get into if
you are not master of your art, and attempt to proceed on the
imitative method. The difficulty of finding a graceful model
is enormous ; he is almost as difficult to arrange as a lay
figure ; he is so obstinate, that you are almost persuaded your
idea must be impossible to realize, and you are tempted to
change it to some accidental attitude which takes your fancy
(of which, by the bye, at once make a sketch) ; but when at
last you think you have caught him, you find that some slight
alteration, which copying him has entailed, has prevented the
figure composing in line with another part of your picture.
But all this is nothing compared with the expression of the
face ; here you are driven to despair. A little practice of this
sort will drive you either into imitative art, or to follow the
sensible example of the old masters, who were unceasingly
studying from nature, but painted the actual pictures without
it. They adhered to their idea ; they studied nature to supply
gaps in their knowledge, but the result was, as Emerson says,
"nature passed through the alembic of man." And here I
must caution you not to be confounded or dismayed by the
universal criticisms of the day, which have actually terrified
most artists into being ashamed of admitting that they have
done any of their work without copying it immediately from
nature. How constantly you hear men tell you that they
shall have nature for every bit of their work, as if that were

Decorative Art. 39

a credit to them ; or they will justify any objectionable or
obtrusive detail by saying it was so in the model, and be per-
fectly satisfied.

Throw all this nonsense boldly to the winds, for it is this
which is the ruin of art. Study nature so completely that you
master her principles, and then you will be free from all the
difficulties that arise from the individuality and detail of the
model. If you make mistakes, it is no proof that your system
is wrong, but merely that your knowledge is incomplete. It
may be necessary at first, and perhaps prudent always, as far
as possible, to pose models in the position you want, that you
may be able at once to correct any faulty details, and at the
same time be adding to your stock of knowledge ; but except
where accuracy of detail adds to the beauty of the work,
as, for instance, in the brilliant lights on satin or on objects
whose complexity and comparative insignificance combine to
make a systematic study of them a waste of time, paint the
actual picture as much as possible out of your head ; it will
not only the better express your idea, but there will be a
harmony and unity about it very difficult to attain by any
other means. The more naturalistic a subject and the smaller
the picture, the more is the attention directed to detail, and the
more necessary is it that it should be painted from nature ;
but ideal art ought not and cannot be so treated.

The range of art may also be considered as vibrating between
simple imitation and decorative art pure and simple. On one
hand the representation of facts, or subject, being the purpose ;
on the other the covering a given space beautifully ; and the
union of these two is the finest art, for a space is not less
beautifully filled because a story is at the same time told on
it ; neither is a story less pathetic because it is told beautifully.
The spandrils of Michael Angelo, and, I may add, the Rape
of Proserpine, by Stevens, are examples of both qualities of
art. It is no mere accident that decorative and ideal art have
always flourished together ; for the same technical knowledge
is necessary to both. As we proceed we shall see that the
greatest artists were the greatest ornamentists.

LECTURE III.
ON EDUCATION,

HAVING compared the physical and social aspects of
mediaeval Italy and modern England, and touched
upon those theories which principally afflict us>
prescribing as far as possible their proper remedies, we will
proceed on the same method to consider the difference between
the education which brought out the inherent qualities of the
great men of old, and that which in our own day, though long
and laborious, fails to elicit the conception and imagination or
to convey the executive power which are necessary to the
production of the nobler qualities of art.

Let us begin with the old, and trace the career of a young
man who had what is called a natural turn for art. After the
usual preliminary difficulties, for even then there was a
prudent mistrust of art as a profession, the father consented to
his son following it, and looked about for some one to instruct
him in his business, and this was not more difficult than it
would be in the present day to apprentice a boy to a shoe-
maker ; indeed it was less difficult. The boy had, probably,
already imbibed his love for art, by seeing the works of a
fellow citizen who had, perhaps, just completed some great
altarpiece, the talk and admiration of the town ; his ambition
was excited, but what is more to the point, his aspirations were

The Old Method. 41

defined. He wished to paint like that man. He may have
heard rumours of other painters in other towns, but this was
enough for him. He was not troubled, as we are, by long lists
of the various schools of art ; he did not know too much.
His desires and his knowledge combined to make him entirely
content to become the pupil of that man, and so he was
articled as an apprentice to learn the business of art, just as we
should be to learn any regular business now ; and he had not
only to learn, but to assist ; he had to grind colours, prepare
canvas and panels, and lay in flat tints, and thus was thoroughly
grounded in those essential, but too much neglected, details ;
and all this time he was not only learning to draw, but saw
the work of the studio progressing, could watch with eager
emulation every process of his master, and every day felt and
supplied deficiencies in his own executive power. In every
respect he had the enormous advantage of direction. He, and
his master as well, had a perfectly definite idea as to what he
wanted to do ; the particular branch of art, its very qualities,
and the sort of subject to be painted were all settled ; and
besides all this, it was as much to the master's advantage as to
the pupils that he should acquire the technicalities of his art
as rapidly as possible, for the pupil was bound to work for his
master for a definite period.

The number of pupils was necessarily limited ; the master
would receive only as many as he could conveniently instruct
and employ, and thus his attention was concentrated on them ;
they had the full benefit of his personal instruction ; and it
cannot be sufficiently insisted upon that it is only by direct
personal infusion that any real knowledge of art can be im-
parted. No mere system, however elaborate, can play the
part of the "imposition of hands;" and this limiting the
number of pupils excluded that frivolous dilettante element
which is the curse of our own time ; the few there were were
serious, and eager to acquire all the knowledge they could.

The pupil had as soon as possible to take his share in re-
sponsible work. The educational advantage of this is of itself
enormous. But not only this, the work was done under the
eye of the master, and if not executed in a thoroughly work-

42 Lecture III.

manlike manner, it had to be done again ; everything turned
out of the studio was finished in a perfectly business-like way.
A painter no more thought of turning out a picture all daubs,
stains, obvious erasures, and corrections, than a tailor would
now think of sending home a pair of trousers with the seams
all cobbled up on the outside ; and thus an artist was not
his own master before he had thoroughly acquired a perfect
method of execution ; in short, he had the inestimable
advantage of being obliged to learn his business.

This exact knowledge of the processes of art, this perfect
mastery of his craft enabled him in his turn to instruct his own
pupils with ease and confidence, so that the energy which was
necessary for work was not wasted in instruction ; but, on the
contrary, the necessity of teaching entailed a still greater
exactitude, which added to rather than detracted from the
master's power; but now few artists know enough of their
bnsiness to teach it, and the attention which it would be
necessary to devote to pupils would paralyze their energies.
They would find even their presence an intolerable burden.
Their knowledge of processes is so vague, their execution so
feeble, that they would hardly like a student to watch their
tentative and laborious efforts ; but the fact is, in imitative art
instruction is not necessary in the way it is in ideal art, which
requires all the resources of science, and a perfect mastery of
all executive processes.

The practice of fresco painting necessitated not only a pre-
cision and readiness of execution, but that knowledge of form
and the principles of light and shade which is essential in
ideal art. In the execution of a fresco the imitative method
was luckily impossible, and thus was engendered and stimu-
lated the very power which was necessary to the conception
and treatment of such subjects as were proper for mural
decoration.

The artistic range of the old men, moreover, was not limited
so entirely to one branch of art as it is in our own day. Even
if the painter were not himself a modeller or an architect, his
work was sure to bring him into direct personal relations with
men engaged in every branch of art; the architect, the painter,

Its Efficiency. 43

and the sculptor could not fail to meet in the same glorious
cause : the making as splendid as they could some great temple
of God. They worked together in unison, not, it is true, with-
out occasional jealousies and bickerings, but understanding
and appreciating each other's work ; and so every branch of
art was mutually benefited, for every man acquired a broader
and deeper knowledge than would have been possible if his
attention had been isolated in his own speciality.

Thus we see how all the circumstances, or accidents if you
like to call them so, of the art of those days acted and re-acted
in developing and perfecting the qualities necessary to its pro-
duction, and the more we consider the apprentice method the
more we shall feel that it is hardly possible to devise any-
thing better. It combined the advantages of direction ; de-
finite and exact instruction; early initiation not only in all
the mysteries of the craft, but in responsible work ; the emu-
lation of the student was stimulated, while at the same time
he saw carried out before him those very processes, and that
very knowledge practically illustrated in which he might feel
himself deficient, and hasten by those means to acquire ; he
was every day brought into personal contact with men
engaged in every branch of art, his conception of the scheme
of art was not narrowed or isolated ; and when he in turn
became a master himself, the practice of teaching his pupils
still further defined, confirmed, and strengthened his know-
ledge ; adding, perhaps, somewhat to what his master had
taught, himself one link in the chain of tradition, he helped
to hand on and perpetuate a thorough practical knowledge
of all the science of art. The links of this chain were ne-
cessarily great men, for it was only to them that the more
promising pupils would go, and thus art education was in the
hands of men of eminence and practical power ; and not, as
in our own day, in the hands of mediocrities, theorists, and
amateurs.

As our subject is to consider the difference between old and
modern education, we may proceed at once to notice the
Academic system, for though schools of art existed in the
middle ages, they were as exceptional then as_jiLe_oid_ system

OF THE

UNIVERSITY

44 Lecture III.

is now with us, the number of artists who take pupils being
scarcely appreciable j1 so that we may broadly accept the
apprentice system as the old method, the academic as the
new. I will for the present pass over the French ateliers,
which seem to combine some of the advantages of both
systems, and will briefly describe the ordinary educational
career of an artist of our own time and country.

We will suppose that he has shown a natural capacity for
art, that he has a love, an appreciation of nature, that he is
fond of pictures, and wishes to become a painter. The dif-
fusion of illustrated books and photographs stimulates his
emulation, and affords him plenty of material for copying ;
but even at this early stage the profusion and variety of
examples has its evil as well as good, and it is difficult in the
present day to find a young man who is able to define the sort
of art he wishes to pursue ; he has often a vague notion that
that will be done for him. He feels his deficiency in know-
ledge and execution, and joins some school where he may be
taught to produce such works as are necessary to admit him
as a probationer at the Royal Academy, which he at length
enters with the proud consciousness that he is now on the
King's High Road to art, and begins a course of instruction
which he fondly believes will in a given time turn him out an
accomplished artist ; for are not all his studies arranged and
presided over by the most eminent men of the day ? to doubt
their efficacy would be presumptuous. He produces a series
of carefully shaded drawings from the antique. He attends
lectures on perspective and anatomy, and is in due course ad-
mitted to the painting school, and to study from the life.
Now, this is all very well, but where is the direction? the
active, interested, and constant supervision and instruction?
where the example which is even more cogent than precept ?
How seldom are the reasons of things explained, and those
great principles of nature and art held up for the constant
guidance of the student ; and how very rarely, if ever, has he

1 See Wornum's Introduction to " Lectures on Painting by the Royal
Academicians."

The Academic System. 45

the opportunity of seeing any work of art in progress ? Left
for the most part to himself, his work is necessarily merely
imitative. He executes his drawings as a task from which he
fondly believes he is deriving some mysterious benefit ; and
where there are many students these tasks are almost a
necessity, for it would be impossible for the master to give
a more direct personal attention to them all : if he did so, it
would take up so much of his time and energy that he would
have little left for his own work, and sinking to the level of a
mere drawing master, he would lose the influence which he
might otherwise have as an able artist ; no mere system can
ever supply his place ; it may perhaps teach the veriest rudi-
ments of art ; but it is only by direct personal influence that
any benefit can be conferred on a student, and it is this alone
that is really meant by education. If it is sufficient to turn a
student into a room full of casts and examples, all we want is
an attendant, and not a master ; and it is by no means cer-
tain that this would not be altogether better than having a
bad one.

Modern theories and the imitative tendencies of the age
have bent art education entirely in one direction, but in no
particular has their effect been more baneful than in the style
of drawing which is now almost universal. There is, I believe,
more time, patience, and labour wasted in the elaborate and
stippled copies of the antique, than in any business in the world.
Indeed, it is worse than wasted, for the poor student fancies
that he is all the time very industrious, and is making great
progress in art ; but the truth is, that he is deceiving himself,
and weakening every day his power of intellectual effort. I
know from experience how seldom this elaborate stippling
impresses the least knowledge of form on the memory ; I have
over and over again found the authors of the most wonderful
drawings wholly ignorant of any one detail of the figures
over which they have spent so many months. They have
manufactured drawings, but they have not learnt to draw.
Their attention and energies seem so entirely absorbed in
" breading out " spots in their shadows, that it never seems to
occur to them to take any notice of proportion or form. Now,

46 Lecture III.

I do not say that no student ever got any good from this sort
of drawing, but I do say that in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred a student learns no more of the object he wastes so
much time over than he would by copying a map of England,
or any wholly meaningless combination of lines. It is done
as a task : he plumbs, measures, maps out, and corrects, till,
after infinite pains, he has got a tolerably accurate outline ;
the shadow is mapped out in the same way, and is executed
by a process not unlike cross-stitch. Indeed, it has often
occurred to me that ladies, and some men as well, had better
do their studies in lambswool ; they would get as good a
texture as they usually do in chalk, and there would no
doubt, in vulgar houses, be a great demand for their work as
anti-macassars.

So long as the walls of all the academies and schools in
England are once a year hung with these stippled manufac-
tures, and the public, ignorant of the unprofitable labour spent
upon them, applauds, the present system of education will be
considered a success, and the progress we make in art will
be measured by the number of works exhibited. If in the
present year there are ten thousand of these drawings, while
ten years ago, sad to say ! there were only one thousand,
it is statistically obvious that the country is advancing, with
positively terrific strides, to true excellence : but what is
statistically obvious is unfortunately not true ; the educational
is little better than the marketable value of these drawings ;
the best out of twenty thousand drawings would not fetch five
shillings at Christie's, and no one but a paper-maker would
give ten pounds for the whole lot. Though we have thousands
of drawings made every year, at the present moment there are
not ten men in all England who can draw ; but when we turn
back to the days of Italian art, we are astounded at the pro-
fusion of the power displayed. It is not only the great men
who can draw ; everyone could draw. Look at the innumerable
sketches for the decoration of buildings, vases, armour, and so
forth. We have figures in every conceivable attitude, put in
with a freedom and style incomparably finer than even our
best artists can achieve after many plodding hours of hopeless

Its Inefficiency. 47

blunderings. One or two trials will more than ever convince
our artists of the peculiar sourness of this sort of grape.

One would suppose that the natural course to take, if we
desired to attain to similar results, would be to set about it in
a similar way ; but philosophers have decreed otherwise, and
though volume upon volume of photographs of original draw-
ings by the old masters, executed from an entirely different
motive, crowd our libraries, our present mindless, laborious,
hopeless system is still rigidly adhered to. Objections to this
system are generally met by dwelling on the advantages of
working with the point, an advantage which I altogether deny
in this sort of drawing ; a brush is a much better instrument
for gradation of tone, and there would be some sense in
exercising the student in the use of it. It is not for these
modern, worthless, husky attempts at imitation, but for real
manly drawing, that the point is invaluable for firmly defining
the outline, for registering and expressing the form. There
are two sorts of drawing — the simple imitation of nature, and
the expression of knowledge. Mulready 's drawings may be
considered as a type of the first, Michael Angelo's of the
second. The first is a laborious achievement, the second is
educational ; and even where done with an imitative motive, it
is not so much a direct transcript from the object as it is a
putting down the impressions which that object produces or
recalls. It does not pretend to be an illusive imitation, it is
an expression of a knowledge of the facts which the artist
sees. Mulready laboriously tries to imitate the facts; Michael
Angelo puts down a vigorous cipher, which represents to him-
self and others the very essence of them. If Mulready had,
by any accident, drawn a vigorous line, he would infallibly
have had to rub it out again. Educational drawing should be
looked upon as the putting on paper the knowledge of facts
and form, every line should be an attempt to fix and record
the result of intellectual effort and comprehension. Masterly
drawing is the result of knowledge, not of imitation, and all
education which fails to impart knowledge is worthless. It
seems to have altogether escaped the notice of our instructors
that the duration of the life of man is limited ; if Methuselah

48 Lecture III.

had had a very great natural aptitude for art, he might have
made something of our present system — for post-diluvians
it is a failure, and it is lamentable to see students taking
months to acquire knowledge which by another method could
easily be imparted in a week. Ars longa, vita brevis est, and
that system is the best by which the student acquires and
retains the greatest knowledge in the shortest time. Let
him follow the method of the old masters, let him fill note-
books with accurate records of his observations, let him study
nature to acquire facts and principles and put down what
suffices to recall them, let him moreover write descriptions as
much as he draws, and he will find that, even unaided by a
master, he will have spent his time well. He must not neglect
imitative work, but it should, as far as possible, be done in
the style and material which he proposes to adopt in his
future profession. Common sense should tell us that the style
and quality of drawing should depend on the time we can
afford to spend over it, as well as on the object for which it is
done. We should often ask ourselves, " For what purpose
am I drawing this ?" If it is because the light and shade are
beautiful, then devote your energies to rendering the chiaro-
scuro ; if the anatomy is clearly marked in the model, make
that your principal study ; if the gradation of tone and colour
strikes you as beautiful, make, as well as you are able, an
imitative painting of it ; but do not attempt to do everything
— you will only tumble between two stools, and your work
will be wholly ineffective and probably worthless.

The all-pervading influence of imitative art, and the sup-
pression of all academic knowledge, is nothing less than a
national disaster. That the feeble should attempt to persuade
others as well as themselves that any exhibition of power is in
exceedingly bad taste, and that critics should prove that every-
thing beyond their own knowledge is false, is perhaps natural,
and certainly amusing; but it is a little beyond a joke when a
whole people is compelled to go on their hands and knees be-
cause half a dozen men two or three centuries ago ran so fast
that they tumbled over a precipice. To the suppression of the
natural capacities and aspirations of our artists can alone be

The Academic System. 49

attributed the apathy with which the flood of magnificent art,
poured out by photography, is received. The photographs
from the Sistine Chapel, and of drawings by Michael Angelo
and Raphael, are nothing less than a splendid revelation, which,
in any other age or country, would have produced a revolution
in education and in art ; but such is our general ignorance, that
even our artists remain unmoved, while critics continue to lay
down their little laws, unabashed by the presence of majestic
genius. Their constant exhortations to eschew academic
knowledge, their repeated cautions against the dangers, not
only of mannerism, but of style, are scarcely well timed in an
age when the very rudiments of knowledge can scarcely be
said to exist ; they are prescribing remedies for superfcetation
before the tree has begun to put forth buds ; and if it were
not that critics, like angels, belong to no country, and cannot
be trammelled by any such mean considerations as national
prosperity or splendour, we might urge upon them the pru-
dence of attempting to counteract the universal tendency to
petty realism ; but it is well known that nothing will ever
tempt a critic to deviate from " truth," the trade name for his
own opinions.

Another evil of the academic system is that a number of
youths are congregated together without the controlling in-
fluence of older and better informed men, and so the disturb-
ing and injurious effects of modern theories are aggravated by
endless and useless discussions among themselves. In short,
in such a chaotic crowd of crude opinions, it is almost impos-
sible for a student to have a definite aim ; he hardly even
knows which of the schools he prefers, much less is he able to
mark out for himself a definite course ; neither can this be
done for him ; the very constitution of an academy such as
ours almost forbids a leaning to any particular style, while a
general, colourless, eclectic system of art, however well balanced
it may be, is sure to be wanting, with teachers as well as
students, in that eager enthusiasm which is almost necessary to
success. As regards painting, the remedy for this defect has
been sought in the personal teaching of the Academicians who
take their turn as visitors to the schools, but this only adds a

E

50 Lecture III.

disturbing element for the already perplexed student ; one
man tells him that all methods are nonsense, that he must
paint as well as he can what he sees before him ; while another
persuades him to adopt a method which he is certain is identi-
cal with that of the Venetians ; one advocates the use of solid
opaque colour, and is succeeded the next week by another who
is enthusiastic about glazes. What wonder is it then that the
Academic system is so long, laborious, and inefficient ? How
can it possibly convey that mastery of execution, that exact
knowledge of principles, which are essential to the production
of ideal art? Founded to promote the science of art, it wholly
fails to hand down those traditions which in former times
tended to produce such glorious results, and everyone has
now pretty much to learn art for himself from the very be-
ginning. When an artist has acquired his knowledge by
tedious research and personal experience, he does not wil-
lingly throw his pearls broadcast among a crowd of students
in whom he has no personal interest, so that it is to be feared
that the present perfunctory system is likely to continue.
Neither does the Academy afford the natural advantage of a
common ground on which the students and professors of the
various branches of art can meet; for every day, both in teaching
and practice, they seem more and more isolated, while the
intimate connection of all the arts, if not altogether ignored, is
never explained and insisted upon.

It is really a relief to be able to mention even one advan-
tage of academies. In what we may call the plant of a school,
no private artist can for a moment compete with them. In
their rooms for study, the number and excellence of the casts
and examples, in their libraries, and I may add, in the lectures
by eminent men, they afford advantages to the student which
he could never hope for as a private pupil.

After this recapitulation of the shortcomings of academies,
it is little to be wondered at that they should sink into mere
corporations of painters, and do little to foster Ideal art, which
is the link by which all the varied developments of art cohere.
They had long ceased to be a living pervading influence
when the lamentable state of Decorative art was forced upon

Schools of Design. 5 1

the attention of the country by the compelling interest of
pecuniary loss, and it was felt that some new vigorous and
extensive organization was absolutely necessary to prevent the
trades which were in any way connected with art altogether
leaving us for our more artistic neighbours. Hence arose
the Schools of Design, and this very Museum in which we now
are, and from which, if you are wise, you will not depart
empty. If the difficulties of education were enhanced by the
constitution of the Academy, the subject becomes still more
complicated under the conditions of an organization which
professes at once to make art popularly understood, to teach
its rudiments to all comers, and to provide a special education
for ornamental art of every description.

Here let me pause to say, that when I point out (as I shall
do from time to time) what I consider defects in our system,
I do so with diffidence. I am quite aware how much earnest
and conscientious thought has been devoted by abler men
than myself to these subjects. I know how the general direc-
tion of thought changes, and though I may differ from men
who with great skill and experience have arranged a course of
study, and although I can now see the ill effects of a particular
system, I am fully aware that but for that system we might,
perhaps, have taken a turn in the road which might lead still
further from the goal we all aim at, and that under similar
•circumstances, and with similar data, I might myself have
•come to similar conclusions. When Schools of Design were
first established it was the popular notion (a notion I fear by
no means extinct) that decorative art was an inferior sort of
art, more easily taught and acquired than pictorial art. We
have already seen that the practice and teaching of orna- j
mental art entails a far deeper and more intricate knowledge I
of the whole science of art than any mere imitative picture J
painting.

I must here pause to meet one obvious objection. You will
say, perhaps, "Do you mean to tell me that the men who pro-
duced the multitude of objects in the Museum, the goldsmiths,
the ironsmiths, the carvers in ivory, the cabinet makers, the
ornamental modellers, the glass blowers, and all the host of

52 Lectitre II L

sculptors, carvers, tinkers, and glaziers, knew more about art
than our Royal Academicians ? " I say, most unhesitatingly,
that each in his own line undoubtedly did, and what is more,
a great many of them had also a far truer conception of art
in its highest and most comprehensive sense. Many of these
works were no doubt produced by comparatively ignorant
men, but then they had all the traditions of the studio,
traditions acquired by contact with the artists who designed
and directed their work, and a long succession of experience.
In those days, the connection of every branch of art was
felt and understood, but now all this is lost, and a school
of ornamental art can only be effectively established on a
system which shall embrace and demonstrate the principles
of all its branches, and their intimate connection with one
another.

We have already seen that the success of the academic
system is marred by the want of definite aim, by professing
too much : by embracing the whole scale of art, it loses point
and power ; but reference to our diagram will show that all
decorative art lies in one direction, viz., towards the ideal pole.
Sufficient advantage has not been taken of this fact. The
course of instruction pursued in Schools of Design is hardly
less imitative than in an Academy for teaching pictorial art,
and owing to the admission of idlers, amateurs, and young
ladies, and a perhaps laudable wish to make art popular, many
of the evils of the modern systems are unfortunately developed,
an imitative art, worse than useless in ornament, and the
feeblest literal transcripts of nature, supersede, in too many of
the schools, the teaching of those great principles on which
alone decorative and ideal art can be founded.

Many of the objections against the present system are, how-
ever, a little unreasonable. It is said that the schools of design
are nothing but miniature academies with all their defects, and
with the additional one that they are necessarily conducted by
mediocrities ; to this it is easy to reply, that if a thing is to be
done at all, we must be content with such means as we can get.
It would, no doubt, be a very desirable thing to have such men
as Watts, Poynter, or Herbert, as masters of our schools, but

Objections to their Sys

it is just possible that they might not care to take a very
laborious and ill-paid office, and there are at present no means
of inducing them to do so. If critics would be kind enough
fairly to consider the necessary and inherent difficulties of a
scheme of national education, and could suggest any practical
remedies for evils which every one must equally admit and
regret, they would confer a benefit on society. We are too apt
to expect too much of new systems, and then to condemn them
if they do not attain a perfection we never think of requiring
in " old-established concerns." How often do we hear a
school of art condemned, because some boy has been there a
year without learning to draw. Yet the parallel of this has
happened in classical education for thousands of years with-
out provoking even a suspicion of the system.

Again, the country is covered with a network of schools
into which every young man who wishes to learn art must in-
evitably be drawn. That there are no great fish among the
multitude enclosed, is certainly a subject of the gravest reflec-
tion, but those who complain that a very thin layer of very
mediocre art is no compensation (there are some who say it is
of itself an unmitigated evil) for the absence of great designers
should in common justice remember that when the schools
were first established there were not only no great designers
but hardly any designers at all ; this fact is the reason and
justification for their existence ; and now that we have an
organised system of education, the country would hardly be
wise to abandon it for the mere hope that the voluntary system
would now produce the great men that it failed to produce
before ; and even if the hope were better founded than I fear
it is, would not the admitted difference which it implies between
then and now show that the present system has at least done
some good, — has prepared the ground for a return to the old
system of cultivation, which for so many years had fallen into
disuse ?

Among the many difficulties of popular art education, none
are greater than those which arise from the supposed necessity
of stimulating the efforts of the students by competition. The
evils of the imitative method of drawing which I have already

54 Lecture III.

described are aggravated, and will, I fear, become chronic,
under a competitive system, which converts all the schools for
the time being into manufactories of those wonderful produc-
tions which excite the admiration of the thoughtless, and prove
so detrimental to the prospects of those who waste their time
over them ; but once admit the principle of competition, and
this sort of drawing is the inevitable result. Would it not be
far better to point out how great the prizes for success already
are ? Success in art implies a fame wider and more enduring
than that of many a victorious general ; it implies money and
social position ; — is it not foolish in such a race as this, to go
out of one's way to pick up an apple, even though it \vere a
golden one ?

And here I may perhaps be pardoned for pointing out
another danger arising from those competitions for prizes for
designs offered by tradesmen, who know nothing of art, and
care nothing for it, and who only use the schools to get their
designs cheap. They offer a prize, generally some paltry sum,
but sufficient to draw from a school a whole batch of designs ;
the prize being awarded, the unsuccessful candidates are only
too ready to dispose of their designs for a merely nominal
price, and thus a manufacturer is often set up for half his life ;
if they are not very good, he has got them cheap, he can
advertise them as " prize designs from the Government School
of Art," and the public will admire and buy.1

Under such a system, design as a profession is impossible,
or at all events so ill paid, that no man of talent will devote

1 The good and evil of a government system have as yet never been
fairly stated or justly weighed ; such a subject is more important than
inviting, and few are likely to take the trouble to make themselves ac-
quainted with the facts, or competent to decide upon them ; while those
who are, have probably taken so decided a side, that their judgment could
hardly be considered impartial ; a dilemma which, it is true, is not con-
fined to art. The study of theology or jurisprudence is often hampered
by the same difficulty ; but in those subjects the opposite opinions are
stated and met with a logical acumen that is rarely associated with artistic
knowledge. How far the evils are necessarily inherent in a government
system ; whether the actual or probable results of the experiment justify
the continuance of the schools ; whether progress is to be measured by

Its Diffictdties. 55

himself to it, and so men who might perhaps add a glory
to the country, as well as great commercial success to
some branch of manufacture, take themselves to the more

quantity or quality ; whether much mediocre art is a good or an evil ;
whether a given sum expended in museums, or the direct employment, on
a large scale, of the best artists, would not more effectually advance the
art interests of the country than by spending it in schools ; whether direct
patronage, if likely to be continuous, would not create a supply of artists,
who in their turn would create a more efficient system of private education,
are all questions requiring technical and historical knowledge, educational
experience, and sound judgment. Compared with any other branch of know-
ledge, art is a mere chaos* of opinions, a state of things not without its
advantages to the ignorant.; but it is almost hopeless to expect any matter
connected with it to be fairly stated, much less intelligently argued. How
often, for instance, do we hear Sykes and his pupils quoted as examples of
the success of the teaching in Art Schools. Yet the fact is, that they were
brought out by the personal influence of Alfred Stevens, who happening at
that time to be working in Sheffield, and in no way connected with the
schools, imbued the whole town with something of his own genius and
style. That the schools afforded a convenient nidus for the embryonic
spark of genius, is undoubtedly true ; but if the budding forth of art which
then took place was owing to the " system," why, it may fairly be asked,
does the same system fail to produce the same results anywhere else ? and
thus, when we examine an example so triumphantly quoted by one side
we shall find that in reality it proves everything that could be wished by
the other.

I will now give an instance of the extraordinary difficulty of deciding
what is best for the country in any particular* branch of art. Architects
complain that students educated in the schools are of very little use to
them ; they have been taught to design, but are not sufficiently ready as
mechanical draughtsmen. What an architect wants is an intelligent
machine without any will of its own, who can work rapidly and well.
Now, is the government under any obligation to produce a class of men
to suit any particular profession any more than it is to educate men to
sew in the lining of hats, or for any other branch of trade? Does not the
argument in favour of a government scheme of art, or any other system
of education, necessarily rest on its being general and not particular,
and if architecture is to be taught at all, surely the principles of design
are the last to be omitted. But, on the other hand, is it wise or even
kind to educate persons for a station which it is extremely improbable
they will ever reach, while in the meantime they are useless, and perhaps
discontented members of society. We complained before that there were
no big fish ; we complain, now that they have been put into theneceesary
condition for growing, that they are apt, at all events, to think themselves
too big.

56 Lecture III.

lucrative business of subject-picture painting ; it is of little
use to train artists to a profession by which it is impossible
to live, and which they are sure to desert at the first oppor-
tunity.

These, then, are some of the evils, dangers, and difficulties of
modern art education, and here again we find the same
deadening, enervating effect of petty, laborious, mindless imi-
tation, and we may trace the isolation of the various branches
of art, the suppression of ornament and its science, alike to
the same source, the persistent neglect of ideal art. I am as
weary as you must be with finding fault, and I turn with posi-
tive pleasure to speak of the many advantages we now enjoy ;
advantages which ought, I hope in your case will, counteract
the long catalogue of evils I have just enumerated.

In the first place it is difficult to exaggerate the importance
of the Museum. We have here a profusion of works in every
conceivable material of the highest excellence. Such a collec-
tion of splendid and beautiful objects cannot fail to improve
the taste of those who, like yourselves, are constantly in the
midst of them. We can trace the progress of any art from its
earliest stages down to the present time, and the juxtaposition
of the art of different periods, the comparison we are able to
make between works in one material and those in another,
ought to enable us to analyze and detect those important
principles which are common to each and all, and thus to lay
hold of some filaments at least of the thread of tradition which
had so long been lost. We have here under one roof treasures
of such surpassing interest, and in such profusion, that nothing
comparable could have existed in the Palaces of the Medicis
or the Popes. The catalogue seems inexhaustible. Every
material the earth produces is here to be seen — carved, turned,
bored, twisted, melted, punched, blown, or beaten into every
conceivable form of beauty that the taste, skill, or patience of
man could invent or execute. What centuries of labour and
experience are here stored for our use ! Nay, more, they are
presented and held out to us. They are exhibited in the
manner most convenient to study. You perhaps fancy " they
do these things better in France," and that the artists there

Kensington Museum. 57

have greater opportunities than ourselves ; but M. Galland,
a decorative artist of great eminence, assures me that for
convenience of arrangement, for perfection of lighting and
exhibition, for facility of study and reference, the Kensington
Museum is superior to anything in his own country ; so that
you may consider yourselves singularly fortunate : the Depart-
ment puts you in the fullest possession of all these advantages ;
it not only gives to each a scholarship, to enable you to prose-
cute your studies, but at a considerable expense provides a
studio and a tutor specially for your instruction, and all it
asks in return is, that you should make the fullest use of these
great opportunities. Your gratitude as well as your interest
should urge you to continued exertion — with exertion it is not
possible you can fail.

Reproductions of all sorts, casts, electrotypes, engravings,
and, above all, photographs, supply ready and rapid infor-
mation far greater than could ever have been acquired in
former times under the most favourable circumstances during
a whole life ! we can sit at a table and turn over photographs
of the palaces of Italy, can study and measure them with far
greater precision and ease than if we were on the spot ; indeed,
the advantages of photography are so enormous, that it alone
ought nearly to outweigh the long list of drawbacks I have
enumerated.

Consider, for instance, the magnificent series of the Sistine
Chapel. Owing to the height of the ceiling, the intervening
light from the windows, the vast scope of the whole scheme of
the ceiling, which prevents one concentrating the attention on
any particular part, there are few things more fatiguing than
looking at these magnificent frescoes, and one generally
goes away with the intention of coming again at a more
convenient time; but photography presents each group separ-
ately, and in the most convenient form, so that it is hardly
too much to say that we now see for the first time these
stupendous works of the genius of Michael Angelo. The
photographs of original drawings, too, are not only admirable
studies, but clearly show the method of procedure of the old
masters.

58 Lecture III.

When we consider the interest that a great work by
Raphael used to excite among his contemporaries, and that
artists thought it worth while to take long journeys to see
even one of his pictures, we can appreciate the advantage of
an art which, at a most moderate outlay, enables us to study
at our leisure the drawing and composition of all his master-
pieces ; while the Library here presents us with folio after folio
of prints and photographs of all the galleries of Europe, and
every work of importance on architecture, sculpture, and orna-
mental art, and all the literature of art. Indeed, so great is
the profusion, that I hope I shall not be thought captious if I
complain of the embarras de richesses which is already the
result of the continued growth of our library, which seems
to require a shorter catalogue of some of the most useful books
on each department of art, in order to make its treasures more
available to students.

If the gallery of pictures by modern artists is wanting in
works of sufficient technical skill to afford examples for our
imitation, the frequent loans of collections of pictures by the
old masters help to make the educational resources of this
great institution perfect.

Then, again, in those sciences which are necessary to art,
such as perspective, anatomy, and geometry, the advantages
we enjoy are so great compared with those of the middle ages,
that when I weigh everything, there really seems no reason
why, notwithstanding the many obstructions I have before
touched upon, we should not attain to the same heights in art
as the great men of old. When we consider that perspective
was in its infancy, — that there were then no books of reference
on the subject, — that the practice of anatomy ^vas considered
infamous, if not criminal — that the artist had to find out all
the facts of it for himself, — that geometry was only laboriously
acquired, — we ought to think ourselves singularly fortunate in
having books on these subjects which give us everything we
can possibly want to know, in the clearest and most concise
manner.

It may be said, and no doubt it is true, that knowledge

Our present Advantages. 59

acquired by personal research is sounder and more permanent
than that which is got without much intellectual effort ; but
notwithstanding this objection, such works as those by Albinus,
and the modern treatises by Fau, ought to put us on a level, if
not with Michael Angelo, at least with most of the old masters
as to the facts of anatomy.

We have material enough, if we only knew how to use it
aright ; but if you once grasp the idea that knowledge is neces-
sary to art, and fully believe that by intellectual effort alone
is any permanent progress made, I have little to urge upon
you ; you will then know and acquire what is necessary with-
out any exhortation from me. You will spend no more time
than is necessary in imitative art, but will proceed step by
step higher and higher ; fully understand and test in your-
selves how little you know, and how very imperfect even your
best recollections are, and you will feel the necessity of culti-
vating the faculties of observation and retention with the
greatest assiduity ; in doing this you will find that yo,u are not
only accumulating facts, but the whole scheme of visible
nature will expand before you, your imagination will become
more definite, and your expression more forcible ; but do not
let your efforts be confined to trying to recollect this or that
appearance, reason upon it till you have as far as possible
discovered its cause. Compare what you see with any render-
ing of it which you may recall in the works of the great men :
you will find them true guides to principles which perhaps
otherwise would have eluded your grasp. Do not read the
book of nature without the commentaries of the Fathers;1

1 The preaching cobbler very naturally deprecates the study of the
Fathers (that is, if he has ever heard of them), and is quite ready to argue
.any point, however abstruse, with the most learned bishop on the bench.
The cobblers just now have it all their own way in art, and learning, it
must be admitted, is certainly not necessary, it would, indeed, prove an
insurmountable obstacle to the production of most modern art. But this
state of things cannot last for ever ; the re-action must come, and as a
mere matter of prudence, it would be well to know something of the science
of art.

6o

Lecture III.

good art is never ignorant art, and seldom original. Turner
founded his practice on a study of his predecessors, men
inferior to himself. I fear the best of us will never be able to
plead an excuse of which he was wise enough never to have
availed himself.

LECTURE IV.
PRINCIPLES OF ORNAMENTAL ART.

ORNAMENTAL art, pure and simple, is like the
measure and rhythm of a verse. A verse may scan,
may have a proper accent and cadence — in short,
may have all the music of harmonious versification, and yet
be made up of words that are mere nonsense ; and so in orna-
ment, it is not necessary to its beauty, as ornament, that it
should have any meaning : it is quite sufficient that it should
be beautiful. Musical notes follow each other in harmonious
sequence : it is true you may adapt them to words ; but they
have of themselves a beauty which is the very essence of music ;
and I would particularly press on your attention that music is
not an imitation of natural sounds, but a science founded on
the abstract laws of harmony : its tones and cadences by vague
and ineffable suggestions seem in some mysterious manner to
recall emotions which lie hidden in our hearts. Compared
with music, the definite imitation necessary to art seems to
drag us to earth, and I fear that painting must ever rank far
below its heavenly sister ; but if ever it is exalted, it will be
by the study of the abstract laws of harmony and composition,
and not by mere imitation.

I admit that there is a good deal open to ridicule in some of
Turner's latest works, but I believe he felt some want in art

62 Lee rare IV.

in the direction of the undefined beauty of music, and some of
his pictures may be compared to songs without words.

These considerations and analogies will show you how
necessary to ornamental art the laws of harmonious composi-
tion must be, and how completely opposed to the true concep-
tion of its nature is the modern tendency to despise all science
as artificial.

A musician whose only instrument was a cuckoo-call would
very naturally deprecate the noisy vulgarity of a more pre-
tentious band. He would be eloquent on " nature " versus
" art." So, under pretence that the laws of composition are
the vile corpus of art, its dregs, and nothing more than academic
mannerism, our artists not only avoid a serious study, but are
able to persuade the world that their petty transcripts of nature
are the highest developments of artistic genius.

In ornamental art our notes are beautiful forms copied or
adapted from nature, but we use them simply as notes. They
are, for the most part, not intended as anything else. Dismiss
at once from your minds all notion that it is necessary or even
desirable that ornament should have an illustrative or didactic
purpose. To condemn a piece of ornament because it is made
up of nondescript dolphins, of labels, and winged griffins, and
make jokes about so incongruous an assemblage, shows that
the critic has not yet commenced the study of art, and we
need not trouble ourselves about him, but at once proceed to
learn, if we can, the best way of adding note to note, and how
best to make an agreeable composition, and you will find the
study of ornamental art in the highest degree useful, even if
you are not specially engaged in it ; for though all its prin-
ciples may be deduced from nature, and are found in all good
art, they are often in them so subtly concealed, that they
would probably have escaped your observation. But in orna-
mental art, which may be considered as art without subject,
the principles of its construction are more easily detected, and
when once thoroughly understood, may be traced upwards ; for
instance, a knowledge of composition of line will enable you
to detect its constant presence in the figure, and will be of use
not only as a guide in drawing it correctly, but also in com-

Even Distribution. 63

posing it gracefully. Yet although I am firmly convinced of
the necessity of science, and believe that no real progress will
be made in art till we have again caught up the thread of
tradition, or invented anew the principles of beauty, I shall
proceed at once to apologize for the scanty fare I am able to
set before you ; the markets for such commodities having long
been closed, I have myself to forage for supplies. Accordingly,
before I state the few principles on which I hope you may
rely for your guidance, I beg you will not accept them for
anything more than they are worth, but test them thoroughly
by your own research and experience. If you find that
they explain the construction of many of the examples in so
extensive a collection as the Museum, and can at the same
time be traced in pictorial art, and in nature too, and are
also in conformity with reason and common sense, you should
attach importance to them according to the extent of their
application. If a principle seems to pervade #// ornamental
art, it is obviously of more importance than one which can
only be traced occasionally. There is nothing new, original,
or startling in what I have to say; my teaching is simply a
call to the old orthodox paths of art. I will show you the
way as far as I can. From that point others abler than myself
will no doubt be found to guide you on what I hope will prove
a long and successful journey.

I have one caution to give you with regard to principles.
They are excellent as guides, but must not be prescribed too
rigidly; and reverting to the diagram of the scale of art, of
which one pole is ornamental and ideal, while the opposite pole
is imitative or descriptive, we shall find that principles which
should be rigidly adhered to in the one case, should be gradually
relaxed as we tend towards the other.

PRINCIPLES.

THE law of even distribution is at once the most obvious
and the most important, and we cannot walk through
the Museum without being struck with its universality ; it seems
to pervade the decorative art of all countries and periods.

t>4 Lecture IV.

Whether we take a Gothic diaper, a majolica plate, the panel
of a pilaster, or of a cabinet, or the cabinet itself as a whole, or
a building, or a good picture, all is evenly distributed. Do not
take a narrow view of this law, or think that it is broken if the
thing ornamented ceases to be covered with a minute uniform
pattern like the meshes of a net ; it would be equally good
ornament if every fifth mesh were covered in solid, or if a space
of a dozen meshes were treated as a solid at uniform intervals.
Too rigid an adherence to this law tends to monotony. Indian
ornament is an exquisite, even, minute fretwork, faultless in
colour and taste ; but, if we go to the Indian Museum, we come
out feeling that everything was very beautiful, quite unexcep-
tionable, but a little wearisome : it seems after a time to pall
upon us ; it ceases to enlist our sympathies, it is a fretwork
that might almost have been produced by some insect rather
than by man. But how eminently human is Italian ornament!
It is evidently the work of the human intellect ; it is free from
this weary insipidity, not only because it is, as it were, the play
of great minds, but because, from a larger comprehension of the
law of even distribution, the cinque-cento artists were enabled
to incorporate with it variety. Take, for instance, the panel of
a pilaster^: you cannot complain that the ornament is not
evenly distributed ; but how varied, how playful, how balanced
and contrasted it all is. Or take a majolica plate, and examine
the arrangement of the ornament ; it is evenly distributed,
but minute work is balanced and contrasted by larger or more
solid masses, and both are evenly distributed ; while the space
is treated as a whole, and the ornament is specially designed
to fill it, whereas the meaner conception of the law of even
distribution is content to cover the space with a uniform fret-
work which might cover equally well a space of any form or
dimensions whatever.

The law of even distribution is not confined to the orna-
ment on small objects, or to ornamental panels in larger, but
may be traced in the general arrangement of the parts in the
objects themselves, and a general survey of the cabinets in the
corridors below will show you that each, regarded as a whole,
has the plain and ornamental parts balanced and contrasted,

Even Distribution. 65

while these are evenly distributed ; and again, in architecture,
I need hardly point out how universal this law is. You have
only to walk down Pall Mall, or turn over a volume of photo-
graphs of continental buildings, to see how evenly distributed
are the openings and piers, and the general arrrangement of
masses and ornament.

Again, in pictures, evenness of distribution will be found to
exist, not only in accordance with the motive of the picture,
whether it be ornamental, or descriptive, but according to the
feeling and knowledge of ornamental principles in the artist ;
in mural paintings of an ideal and decorative character, it is
an essential, and the easel pictures and designs of the great
men, more especially of Raphael, Michael Angelo, and Titian,
are also pervaded by a knowledge of the value of this quality.
Michael Angelo admitted landscape only in those subjects in
which it was necessary to the story, because the details of
landscapes harmonize ill with the grand masses of the human
figure : it is for this reason that we so often see architecture
used as backgrounds ; it is not only more orderly, but its
masses are simpler, broader, and more of a piece with the
human form and its drapery. For the same reason, when
landscape is introduced by the great painters, it is not only as
ideal and simple as it can be in its outline and masses, but it
is put in with power and force that would frighten a modern
artist, who regards the background from an imitative, whereas
the old master regards it from an ornamental, point of view ;
and it is from an intuitive perception of the same law, that
even the more imitative artists so often paint landscape back-
grounds with an evening or twilight effect ; it is not only
that a more solemn sentiment is thus given to the subject,
but the details, which would otherwise be too petty and
obtrusive, are swept and rounded into larger and simpler
forms. In small plaques of a purely decorative character, the
figures should be designed as much as possible to cover
the space evenly, in which case it is better to do nothing
to the background ; indeed, it is under these conditions very
difficult to do anything that is so good as leaving it alone,
and I should not go far wrong if I laid down a-julet- that in

F

66 Lecture IV.

plaques the ground should be plain ; anything that you
put in it will be little better than distracting rubbish,
which lowers at once the ideal and artistic character of the
subject.

The treatment of landscape backgrounds by the Japanese
is full of valuable suggestions to the artist who is alive to the
decorative value of even distribution ; but unluckily those who
are most indebted to Japanese art, seize upon those excep-
tional qualities, rare in oriental art, which are exactly opposed
to this law, and just now a quaint and surprising irregularity is
the rage. It has one advantage, and one only, and that is
that it requires no intellect to design in this style ; to put a big
flower or a fish just where they happen to come, and two or
three beetles, or crabs, anywhere but in their right place, is not
very difficult, and will, I suppose, continue to be done as long
as it pays ; but directly the public wake again to a sense of the
ordered and refined symmetry and balance of Italian art, they
will turn with comparative disgust from exaggerated imitations
of barbaric quaintness.

While speaking of even distribution, I ought not entirely to
pass over the organic rank of the elements of which ornament
is composed. It will be found that natural objects have an
artistic value and weight according to their organic rank. For
instance, the introduction of an amorino, or any human form,
at the bottom of a panel of a pilaster, would make it necessary
to repeat human or other high organic forms in the upper part
as well, otherwise there would be an obvious want of even
distribution ; but this is a subject which will be treated of at
greater length when we speak of the appropriate distribution
of different qualities of ornament. Neither would it be right
to begin a pilaster of delicate elements drawn out in long
and graceful curves, and then change to more ponderous ones
whose contours were shorter and more vigorous. The straight
lines which so often occur in good ornament, to correct the
weakness which would otherwise arise from the too frequent
curves, should also be introduced at regular intervals, and so,
in the varieties of the curves themselves, an ordered repetition
should give harmonious unity to the whole composition. In

Symmetry. 67

short, there should be even distribution of quality as well as of
quantity, — in character of line, as well as in mass.

The law of repetition is intimately connected with that of
even distribution. The more simple the ornament, not only
should it be the more evenly distributed, but the more neces-
sary it is that it should be repeated. A simple form which means
nothing can be repeated without being tiresome. Representa-
tive ornament — such, for instance, as a leaf — is less adapted for
repetition than a form which is purely ornamental, and repre-
sents nothing whatever ; for this reason I have always admired
the Doric and Ionic in preference to the Corinthian order of
architecture ; for orders imply repetition. The more nearly
the elements of ornament approach the imitation of nature,
the less they are adapted for repetition. The higher their
organic rank, the less ought they to be repeated. A panel
made up of curves and strapwork, however complex its con-
struction, may be repeated over and over again without weari-
ness, but if we introduced the human figure into the com-
position, it would, strictly speaking, be necessary to make a
fresh design, at least so far as the figures were concerned, for
each panel.

In the same way, the more severe the style of a building, the
more nearly it approaches the right pole of our scale, the
more necessary is the repetition of all its parts ; and conse-
quently the elements of which the ornament is composed
must not be imitated from nature, but must be simple and
conventional.

Variety is the opposite of repetition, and should always be
subordinated to symmetry and order, and should only be used
in the least essential parts of an architectural or ornamental
composition ; but of this more hereafter. We will proceed
to notice the principle of symmetry, which, although not
more universal in its application, is a law of a higher order
than even distribution ; it is a form of repetition, the result
of doubling, or repeating twice. Symmetry is the symbol
of unity and order : it is stately, simple and dignified. Va-
riety is the symbol of accident, irregularity, and decay. It
is picturesque, but petty, and of a lower ornamental rank

68 Lecture IV.

The one belongs to the ideal, the other to the opposite
pole of art. The common experiment of writing a name
in ink, and creasing the paper while it is wet, so that it
prints a repetition on the opposite side, affords a capital
illustration of the ornamental value of doubling. Any form,
even the ugliest, when balanced by its double, will become
ornament ; and this symmetrical doubling is one of the causes,
and certainly not the least, of the beauty of two-thirds of the
examples we have in the Museum. Panels are almost invari-
ably ^o treated, and this treament, simple as it is, is so good
that it is almost a necessity to use it, because an inferior
design, or even no design at all, will, by the help of this alone,
be far better than a design of much greater artistic capacity
without it.

You have only to walk through the Museum to see how
universal this law of symmetry is, and I might fill a folio with
examples. It is equally obvious in classical and even in Gothic
architecture, though latterly (as might easily be inferred from
the general tendency of modern art) an attempt has been made
to substitute the opposite principle of picturesque irregularity.
I am quite willing to admit that irregularity, or the absence of
symmetry, is less objectionable in Gothic than in other styles,
which are more orderly, and based on higher conceptions of
art ; but the old Gothic architects are, I am convinced, libelled
by their friends on this point. I doubt if any architect worthy
of the name ever neglected symmetry, unless from necessity.
That Gothic architecture was irregular, arose from an extra-
ordinary intellectual lapsus in the architects, who failed to
perceive that their art as much applied to the first conception
of a building as a whole, as it did to its component parts and
details ; they accepted the necessities, or what appeared so to
them, of construction, almost as if these were beyond their con-
trol, and then taking the separate parts one by one, they orna-
mented them as best they might. A house was made up of
a chapel, a dining hall, a ladies' room, a kitchen, a closet. It
never occurred to them to treat all these things in one com-
prehensive and symmetrical scheme. If a Gothic architect had
had the building of man, we should have had our liver and

Symmetry in Pictures. 69

intestines all plainly visible This is the defect of the style, but
the want of symmetry arose from the blind acceptance of this
narrow view of architecture, rather than from any want of
feeling for its value, and, with this great exception, the Gothic
architects were as symmetrical as they could be. The church,
the chapel, the dining-hall, were all symmetrical, and the
picturesque irregularity so much admired was generally due
to accident or want of funds, rather than to design. The
towers at the west end of a cathedral were planned symmetri-
cally ; all the parts of a church were balanced one against
another ; — but I will not digress into a disquisition on Gothic
architecture. I mentioned it because modern critics would
probably quote it as at variance with the law of symmetry.

I need hardly repeat what I have already said in speaking
of even distribution, that the law of symmetry has weight
according to what we may call the ornamental rank of any
picture or decoration. The symmetry, which is a necessity in
a pilaster, would not be required in a painted spandril, parti-
cularly if the motive of it were to tell some story. As subject
predominates, so does this principle wane ; but if figures were
used in the same place with a purely decorative object, then
the law would again come into force. A man with a know-
ledge and love of ornamental art will always tell his story as
symmetrically as he can ; and even in easel pictures, in which
symmetry ceases to be necessary, it often maintains its
influence.

To trace this law through pictures and bas-reliefs would be
a most interesting and instructive study, but I cannot do more
here than mention a few of the most conspicuous examples : —
The Dispute of the Sacrament, the School of Athens, the
Marriage of the Virgin, the St. Cecilia, by Raphael ; the
Temptation and Dead Christ, in the National Gallery, by
Michael Angelo ; the Assumption by Titian, and numerous
Holy Families and other compositions by Perugino. All
these will afford to the student obvious instances of this law.

There is one modification of the law of symmetry both in
nature and art which I cannot pass unnoticed. The central
part of a compound leaf is more symmetrical than those parts

;o Lecture IV.

which are repeated on each side. The fact that the parts,
though in themselves irregular, are balanced by similar parts
on the opposite side, seems to excuse the local want of
symmetry; and so leaves, regarded by themselves, may be
individually wanting in that symmetry, which is restored by
their growing in pairs. In 'like manner the west end of a
cathedral, being one and central, should be symmetrical, but
it is not equally necessary that the ends of the transept should
be so, and accordingly these may have a turret at one angle
only ; and yet, as each transept is repeated on the opposite
side, the building, as a whole, may remain symmetrical.

I cannot omit to notice the symmetry of the human figure.
All facts of nature conform to utilitarian as well as to aesthetic
principles, and symmetry is no doubt necessary to the me-
chanical balance of the body, and the whole trunk, though it
contains organs of every sort and size, is symmetrical not only
(as is obvious) in the back and front views, but in some
measure in the side view as well. The masses of the pectoral
are balanced by those of the blade-bone, while the spine of
the blade-bone corresponds to the clavicle. The mass covered
externally by the latissimtis dorsi, corresponds to that which
encloses the ribs below the pectoral, while at the base of each
may be traced the same depression. The comparative want
of symmetry in the limbs is excused, as it were, and restored
by their repetition. The muscles, too, of the limbs are sym-
metrical, according to their central position. The biceps in
front, the triceps behind, the rectus of the thigh, the calf, and
tendo achillis are all symmetrical ; and so in the head and face,
the top of the head, the frontal bone, the nose, the mouth, and
chin are symmetrical, being single and on the central line ;
but the eye, the ear, and the cheek are not of themselves
symmetrical, being repeated. In short, the human figure,
and, indeed, everything in nature, may be safely asserted to
be as symmetrical as its uses will permit; but in ornament,
which is not hampered with any condition of use, there is no
excuse for the want of symmetry.

LECTURE V.

PRINCIPLES OF ORNAMENT.

CONTRAST may be called variety intensified; it
enhances by bringing into juxtaposition two opposite
qualities : it is the source of vivacity, brilliance and
force. If a composition appears dead or monotonous, you will
know that it is wanting in contrast ; if your flesh-painting
looks sleepy or mealy, you will know that the shadows are not
brought with sufficient contrast up to the lights, or that the
colours are so much mixed together, that each is deprived of
its contrasting power.

The ornamental leaf so common in panels of pilasters,
affords a capital example of contrast. The simple contour,
the rounded form, the broad but graduated light of the upper
surface, are contrasted and enhanced by the varied and deep
serrations of the lower edge, by which irregular and dark
shadows are brought with sparkling effect right into the mass
of rounded light, and when the leaves are repeated, as is
usually the case, the rounded light of the next leaf emerges
with beautiful effect from the general shadow of the one
above. The elegant radiating forms of these leaves are con-
trasted with the more solid masses of vases. The straight
line which invariably marks their upper edge, contrasts with
and strengthens the varied curves of the rest of the composi-
tion, which without them would be too pliable and weak,

J2 Lecture V.

while the whole ornamental space of the panel is contrasted
with the plain severity of the enclosing mouldings and styles.
(Plate 21.) Thus we see how important a part contrast plays
in good ornament. In majolica plates we trace its effective
use. The graceful, but balanced, sprigs of leaves are con-
trasted with panelled spaces rilled with more simple ornament,
while the freer play of line in the centre is contained and con-
trasted by the symmetrical severity of the border.

In architecture, the moulded and ornamental doors and
windows are contrasted with the plain wall,1 the rich capital
by the plain shaft, the dark and frowning cornice by the
lighter wall below.

I need hardly say that contrast is invariably used to give
value to flesh, both in sculpture and painting. If you observe
the draperies on any antique, you will see how incisive they
are. The treatment of the hair, too, is a composition of many
vigorous incisive lines ; what is the artistic meaning of this ? it
is simply to give value to the flesh, the contours of which are
large, flowing and simple, the masses full and beautifully
rounded into shade, while the outlines of the draperies or the
hair are more angular and jagged, the masses cut up in sudden
lights and deep cutting shadows.

The statue of a recumbent nymph, by Baily, which was
for some time exhibited in the Museum, affords an example of
the narrow conception of modern imitative art. Very likely
the luxuriant and smooth hair of a woman would, if cast, pre-
sent a surface not unlike the hair of Baily's statue ; but hair
of that sort would be black, or of some decided colour, afford-
ing the strongest contrast to the flesh. In mere imitation of
detail, Baily was right ; but he failed in that large conception
of the whole which is the characteristic of the antique and of
all good art.

In colour, and in light and shade, the use of contrast is
more obvious than in form, but these subjects are too large for
consideration here. While nature presents an endless succes-

1 The value of plain spaces is not sufficiently appreciated by orna-
mentists ; they cannot, I suppose, keep their fingers off them.

Composition of Line. 73

sion of contrasts, — night and day, land and sea, the smooth
field and the dark irregular woods, the square and angular
forms of rocks and the feathery foliage of trees, the dark and
serrated edge of a mountain and the soft and fleecy mist ;
the massive storm clouds, and the streaky cirrhus are contrasted
on precisely the same principle as that adopted by Sir Chris-
topher Wren, when he surrounded the dome of St. Paul's with
the almost needle-like spires of the parish churches.

We now come to the composition of line, a quality which
pervades all nature, which constitutes the very soul of orna-
ment, and which may be traced in the pictorial art of all great
men ; and here let me pause to caution you against consider-
ing these principles of ornament as nothing more than re-
ceipts culled from the practice of the old masters ; though, if
they were no more than this, they would be entitled to respect ;
they are for the most part formulas, founded on some simple
fact or principle of nature, or on an intuitive perception of the
reasons of its beauty. The principle of radiation of line, is
the statement of a simple fact, the springing from a common
centre ; anything flexible suspended from two points gives the
festoon^ while a continuous curve leads naturally to the volute.
(Plate I.)

That each curve should have a path of its own, not to be in-
terrupted or cut, while curves in the opposite direction should
touch and pass on their own course, or meet and melt into it,
are principles obviously in harmony with the nature of curves,
whether regarded simply as lines, or as outlines of contained
forms ; this naturally explains the important law of tangential
composition, a law which equally applies to curves which are
back to back, and to those which bend in the same direction,
as, for example, in radiating curves. This law is so universal,
that it will be unnecessary to give more than one or two
instances to explain its application, which your own researches
will confirm by a multitude of examples.

The antheinium, the scroll, and the volute, are the simplest
expressions of this law, and there is an obvious relationship
between them. If we analyze the causes of the beauty of the
anthemium. we shall find them in variety subordinated to

74 Lecture V.

symmetry. The lines have a proportionate relationship to
one another, while the pervading law of radiation gives an unity
to the whole. It is not necessary that radiating curves should
actually start from a given point, or even touch a central line.
When they do so, they often appear cramped, and we accord-
ingly find in the majority of examples, in nature as well as
in art, that they tend to meet rather than actually do so ;
indeed, if we consider the lines as bounding a substance, it
is impossible that they should meet. In the acanthus, for
instance, if the lines actually met, there would be a want of
substance in the most important part.

Composition of line is most obvious in purely conventional
ornament, but it may be clearly traced in all natural forms, par-
ticularly in the human figure, in its markings, in the contour
of the limbs, and in its relation to other figures forming a
group, as will be shown at large in my " Lessons on the Human
Figure." But I may here briefly notice some of the most
obvious instances. The curved outline of one side of the
body, or of a limb, is very frequently continued on the oppo-
site side, its path being sometimes traced by a continuous
marking, or indicated by markings less defined, but very
generally lying in the direction of the line.

The line of the shoulder is continued by that of the jaw,
round the top of the head, returning by the line of the other
jaw to the opposite shoulder, or in a side view to the pit of the
neck. (Plate 2.) The higher and squarer shoulders of a man in
this way harmonize with the square jaw and comparatively short
neck ; while in woman the falling shoulders necessitate a longer
neck and a more oval and tapering form of face. This com-
position of line is very frequent in the works of Raphael ; in-
deed, his knowledge of the composition of flowing curves is the
source of his pre-eminence for grace. In the side view of the
figure the contour of the back, continued by the ridge of the
pelvis, flows into the curve which bounds the front of the thigh.
The contour of the latissimus dorsi may be traced by a series of
well-defined markings to join and flow into the outlines of the
buttock. The flattened curve of the outside of the thigh goes
suddenly in above the knee, and crops out again to form the

r •>• fr-

Composition of Line.

outline of the calf on the opposite side, while the outline of
the adductor muscles on the inside is continued to form the
outline of the outside of the leg below. (Plates 3 and 4.) In
the arm, the marking of the muscular part of the triceps
almost always composes with the outline of the supinator
muscles ; while an examination of the form of the external
condyle will show how admirably it is contrived to flow into
the line of the radius. The leading lines of the face give in a
remarkable way the arrangement of lines most commonly to
be found in ornament. The composition of the lines of the
features, more especially the mouth, is marvellous, and worthy
of the closest study. (Plate 5.)

These examples from the human figure are sufficient for our
purpose here ; but I need hardly say that it is entirely made
up of forms which combine and compose with each other in
the most subtle and beautiful manner. It was a complete
perception of this that gave Michael Angelo a power greater
even than that of Phidias. His perception of the composition
of the line of the leg with the ground enabled him to give a
firmness and grasp to his feet, hitherto unknown, and this
leads me to the consideration of similar lines in quadrupeds,
lines wonderfully expressive of the action. (Plate 6.)

The general composition of lines in quadrupeds is most
interesting, and would make a study of itself. I can only
briefly allude to it here, and I will just notice the composition
of wings with the body and foreleg in the griffins and other
imaginary animals, which so frequently occur in ornamental
art. (Plates 6 and 7.)

The human figure is not wanting in instances of radiation of
lines. The radiation of the fingers is one source of the grace
and beauty of the hand.1 (Plates 2, 4, and 6.) A perception
of this is of the greatest use in drawing, and will enable you
without difficulty to give that natural ease which is essential in

1 A treatise might be written on the composition of the hand. I hope
to see the day when we shall have a treatise on the aesthetic principles of
the human figure, similar to the " Bridgwater Treatise " on its mechanical
structure.

76 Lecture V.

art. The toes also exhibit this quality ; indeed radiation may
be traced wherever there is a tendency to a common centre ;
for instance, in the muscles, which have their insertion in the
head and upper part of the humerus ; and I cannot conclude
the instances of this arrangement of line without noticing its
almost invariable use in the composition of the lines and
masses of the hair, which, starting from a centre on the poll
ot the head, were often drawn with a mechanical precision,
almost like engine-turning, so as to form a sort ot radiated
rosette (Plate 7) ; while in others the principle, though more
subtly concealed, may easily be traced as the basis of the
composition.

Composition of line in the varied action of the limbs may
constantly be traced in every well-posed figure (Plate 8); while
in a group the composition is simply extended and more com-
plicated ; but as drapery forms one of the elements in so many
ol the compositions which I shall refer to, I will briefly note
some ot its leading characteristics. As drapery almost in-
variably depends from one or two points of support, I need
not tell you that radiation of line is its prevailing principle ;
indeed, so universal is its use that when once pointed out it
becomes almost tiresome.

The simplest form of drapery, hanging from two points, will
give a series of festoons ; but more often a succession of folds
alternately preponderating on one side or the other. (Plate 9.)

As a general rule one point of support is secondary to the
other, and the primary point would naturally be on, or in the
direction of, the hip on which the figure rested. This arrange-
ment became conventional, and was reduced to a system by
Perugino, and adopted in almost all the early works of Raphael.
(Plate 10.) The figure was almost invariably posed on one
leg, the other being bent. In short, the action, though
graceful, was often affectedly exaggerated, while a group of
figures, all in one position, became almost ridiculous. The
thigh of the bent leg was as broad and simple as possible, and
without folds, or with only a few, which did not cut up the
mass. Across the leg below passed the festoons of drapery,
which, hanging from the supporting hip on one side, were con-

The Lines of Drapery. 77

tinued to the back of the opposite shoulder, or formed a mass
of radiating folds round the waist.

The Ghiberti gates furnish us with an almost endless series
of examples of drapery, composed on the simple principle of
radiation (Plate 11), and we must here notice a variety which
is caused by the folds overlapping each other, in a manner
which is very common in drapery, and forms a great source of
beauty. You all know how beautiful is the somewhat com-
plicated radiation of lines near the pivot of a fan. This
arrangement was much used by Ghiberti. It gives complexity
and variety, without destroying the unity which results from
the lines of the drapery being subjected to the ruling law of
radiation.

The radiation of the folds of the sleeve caused by the bend-
ing of the arm is not more constant in art than in nature,
although Perugino repeated the same lines over and over again,
without taking the trouble to vary them, as he might have
done with the greatest ease. (Plate 12.) His persistent
mannerism had no doubt a good as well as an evil influence on
Raphael, and the invariable excellence of his draperies, and
the exquisite grace which comes from his profound feeling for
and knowledge of the composition of lines (Plate 13), must in
some measure be attributed to the thorough schooling he
received in these oft-repeated principles.

In the antique, the folds of the draperies afford many ex-
amples of composition, more especially of radiation, sometimes
executed with a precision almost too exact for art. (Plate 15.)

The line of beauty, which is so often indicated by the folds
of drapery round a limb, is so frequently used in ornamental
figures, that I cannot pass over it. (Plate 12.) Almost all
conventional representations of the drapery of the arm on
the majolica plates are made up of a series of these curves.
It is also much used when the figure is drawn nude, and close
fitting drapery is suggested by a few lines, principally at the
joints.

I must also mention here what I have before stated with re-
gard to purer ornament, that it is necessary to avoid the intro-
duction of too many curves by the occasional use of straight

78 Lecture V.

lines, which give firmness and repose to a figure. The straight
lines, which fall direct from the point of support, or which,
slightly radiating, terminate in cascades, the edges of which are
almost straight, form a pleasing contrast to the repeated curves
in the other parts ; and the straight lines of the under garment,
which is generally seen below the more voluminous folds of
the cloak or toga (Plate 10), serve the same end. But it is not
only in drapery that we must seek for the straight line. In
the human figure the tendons contrast with the swell of the
muscles, and in the horse the straight lines of the head and
the legs counteract the otherwise too florid use of curves.
(Plate 6.)

Michael Angelo well knew the value of the straight line, as
we may see by its frequent occurrence in the most skilful of his
compositions, and I may here state that in spandrils, or spaces
bounded by curved lines, it is more grateful than in square
panels, the sides of which already afford an agreeable contrast
to curvilinear ornament in the centre. (Plate 14.)

Festoons are also eminently useful to counteract less ordered
curves, and to bind together the two sides of a composition,
as well as to give balance and firmness to the whole.

With these preliminary remarks we may now proceed to
the consideration of those compositions which afford examples
of the foregoing principles.1 Beginning first with conventional
ornament, in which the leading lines are nothing more than
the simplest expression of the simplest laws, passing on to
ornament made up of organic forms, which are easily adapted
to the necessary curves, and then to that in which the human
figure is used ornamentally ; and finally tracing the same laws
through all good pictorial art until we come to see them as
surely, though more subtly, marked in Nature herself, we shall
find a knowledge of these laws of the greatest use. It is not
only the key to a proper understanding of the compositions of
the old masters, and the source of grace, but it is invaluable as
a guide to correct drawing even of the most imitative kind, for

1 The lecture was concluded with reference to examples in the Museum
and Library.

The Use of Principles.

79

it enables you to see and to draw the outline of the higher
organic forms with- a precision and force that it would be
almost impossible to attain without it. These principles will
in time so pervade your sense of form, that you will draw and
use your brush under their influence, sweeping each contour
into harmony with others ; and I hope that in time you may
come in some measure to realize the truth, unity, and grace of
Nature herself.

LECTURE VI

THE ELEMENTS OF ORNAMENT.

HAVING in the previous lectures examined the
principles of ornament, we will now proceed to
consider and classify the elements of which it is
composed, arid we will first notice the simplest use of straight
lines, not only where they are more obviously. . . . . .

used as ornament, as in the reeds and flutes of a | | | |
column, but as the borders of panels, represented either by
lines of black or colour, or by the varied shadows of mouldings,
in the perpendicular lines of architecture, as well as in the
prevailing horizontal lines or cornices, all of which are quite
as important aesthetically as they are practically, giving
firmness, solidity, and simplicity to the composition.

Straight lines at right angles to each other give these
qualities in a still greater degree. So severe, compact, and
entirely satisfactory are rectangles ornamentally that we seem
to want nothing more in a building so constructed, except to
emphasize the lines by mouldings, and it is exceedingly diffi-
cult to introduce looser or more florid ornament without doing.
more harm than good.

And so in a composition of ornament, panelling can hardly
be overdone : it is more satisfactory than anything else, and
you will often find that when you have composed an ornament

Frets. 8 1

for a rectangular space, which may seem a little loose or un-
tidy, if you simplify, reduce its size, and enclose it with a
border, it will pass muster very well; and I may here say that
it is always well to enclose ornament with a line of the same
colour or material as the ornament itself: a modelled panel
should have a projecting fillet, in the same way that a relief
carved on a stone or marble slab would naturally have.

Frets are the most obvious examples of the ornamental use of
lines at right angles to each other. Beginning with | I I I I I I

by adding a joint, we have | , which becomes [TJ [TJ [*1J pj;

then with another joint we get 70.1 TDllTO , and so on till we

come to those very complicated frets which exasperate rather
than please by their complexity.

The next variety is obtained by using as the element,
and we get 3J._rT"LJ-ITL. , and this can be extended and made

more complex in the same manner as before, pp | Lq [ pi] | Cq".

Another element of fret-like ornament is f"| D f"1 T > which

leads to many patterns.

Frets are generally set out so that the light and dark spaces
shall be equal, and the perpendicular and horizontal lines shall
also be nearly equal. But my own predilections are rather in
favour of either the light or dark predominating, — I think the
pattern is thereby less confusing, and I also think that frets are
prettier if they are slightly elongated rather than square. Run-
ning frets should, I think, be preferred in long corridors, and in
continuous lines ; in a square room, a fret which did not run, and
was itself square in character, would perhaps be more appro-
priate. I believe a good deal of time and thought is wasted
by puzzling oneself as to which way patterns should run. It
is a matter of no importance, and if you cannot decide it by
reasoning, settle it by tossing up.

Frets are particularly suitable for flat surfaces ; indeed, a
fret on a curved surface would be altogether out of place ; and
I may here note that a consideration of the ornaments com-

G

82

Lecture VI.

monly used on architectural mouldings will show that the pro-
file of the moulding is repeated by the leading lines of the

ornament upon it. Thus on the flat we get

flutes, or dentils,

on the torus, I

on the cyma recta,

; on

, or scales crossing each other,
; while the ornament on an ogee is almost uni-
versally made up of lines of cyma reversa,

Note also how few architectural patterns run. Patterns round
arches, or enclosing circles, should not run in one direction ;
they tend to destroy the unity of the composition. I do not
of course mean to say that they are never to be used, but they
should not predominate. The ornament on the external band
of a shield, for instance, should radiate; and so, if there is only
one pattern on an arch, it is better that it should radiate
than run : but let us return to our frets.

The next great variety is that which is made up of
diagonal straight lines, thus, / ' . This repeated becomes

////'////> which is the same as the fret with the angle
altered, and almost all the frets can be pleasingly varied in this
way. Then we have yCZZI/mi/II , which repeated below

becomes a very beautiful ornament. Then come

the plait /N^N^s/N^ ,and zigzag yxyXy'x/ ' so common
in all barbaric ornament. Diagonal lines which cross each other
_/v^ y^ lead to a whole class of ornament.

When you come to triangles, if you will only look at the
multiplicity of patterns of inlay work, or even the tile flooring
of the Museum, you will see that the subject is too large for
consideration here. I have only to say that most of these
patterns can be resolved into the triangle and hexagon, or

Curves. 83

square and octagon. Interlaced work and strap work are not
sufficiently studied and used in architectural ornament, for
which their severe, conventional, and non-imitative character
eminently adapts them.

The circle is the element of much good ornament. First, cir-

cles that touch one another, C3QC-XI)' tlien t^lose tliat cut
and appear like a series of connected rings, C jT 7T 7T jT J,
then overlapping series of circles which touch one another.

C 000000003* ^e weU'known money moulding is
composed of a series of circles or discs strung together,
, and last and most important of all is the guil-

loche, so useful in architecture, ^§Mg/:y/yp) . It is an easy
step from the guilloche to the repetition of curves or lines of
beauty, ~Y~~f~/^/~*/ > whence springs a large and almost

inexhaustible series of ornament, for examples of which I must
refer you to Owen Jones' admirable "Grammar of Ornament."
I will, however, just note its simplest developments.

Varieties of the spiral, ^OvOOOOv* t^ie contmuous
flowing line which forms the stalk of so many ornaments ; then
t^ie same curves reversed,

and lastly arranged perpendicularly, /X/v* These

repeated below form the basis of many mural and textile
patterns.

Volutes combined with curves form another large class of

ornament. The well-known Greek wave

ornament ; curves which turn outwards, \ or that turn
inwards, X(D)» and again curves which are repeated back to
back, &v"j$T^3' g*ve tne leading principle of the ornament of

84 Lecture VI.

many panels and pilasters. cXjxDCo ^"orms anotner variety
of the same element. Anthemiums, and all the various ex-
pressions of the law of radiation are too well known to need
any description ; and when we have mentioned beads, egg
and tongue, flutes, quadroons, and scale work, we shall have
enumerated the principal varieties of simple conventional
ornament, which is in no sense an imitation of natural objects.
(Plate I6.)1

The next great division of elements consists of vegetable
forms, resembling nature, but, like all good ornament, simplified
and artistically constructed ; first, stalks straight or curved,
ribbed, fluted, reeded, twisted, and spiral ; then joints leading
to sheaths from which the stalks ramify or throw out leaves,
and these becoming more complicated assume the cup-like
form of what are technically called nests, composed of many
leaves, from which shoot up the stalks and spirals, which com-
pose such a scroll as that of the Medicis pilaster.

Although my object here is simply to make a classified list
of elements which will be dealt with separately in future
lectures, Foliage 'is a subject of such importance to the student,
that it will perhaps be considered not out of place if I say a
few words on some of its leading principles at once ; and first
of the Acanthus. You need not trouble yourselves to find
out the exact plant from which it is taken, or waste any time
in speculations as to the origin of its architectural use ; for it
is not so much an imitation of nature, as an artistically con-
structed ornament. We may trace a gradation in its style
from the severe rigid symmetry proper for the capital of a
noble order, down to the varied and delicate beauty of the
more naturalistic foliage of a panel ; the essential characteristic

1 This sort of analysis can be carried somewhat farther by the student ;
what I have done is probably sufficient to enable me to explain in a
future lecture the proper order and distribution of ornament, and also to
enable the student to arrange his sketch-book for collection and reference,
a very important aid to success. When ornament is complicated, it is
generally sufficient to trace its leading lines. Its analysis is often more
ingenious than instructive.

The Acanthus. 85

of all good ornamental foliage is stiffness. Limpness or
flaccidity is the worst fault it can have, and in drawing the
principal curves you should take care that they start strong
and straight, and then turn firmly and gracefully over ; and
in setting out the radiating lines of the pipes and ribs, be
careful not to make them so monotonously graceful as to
impair the stern dignity which is essential in the highest style
of foliage ; you must also be very sparing of variety. Before
describing the leading types of leaves, I will give a few direc-
tions which are generally applicable to their construction. The
central stalk when seen in front, is of course straight, the pipes
and ribs are ranged on each side like the lobes of an anthemium,
and the greatest care should be taken in setting out these lead-
ing lines. The first thing to be determined is the general form
or outline within which the leaf is to be contained. This varies
considerably, the sides of some being nearly perpendicular and
parallel, while others spread out at the base. Having settled
the leading outline, we have next to set out the
position of the eyes, and these will lie in a line
nearly parallel to the sides. In the short leaves of a
capital, the upright spaces between the eyes, though
very slightly diminishing toward the top, may be
said to be equal ; but the space between the lowest
eyes and the base of the capital is considerably less,
because the leaf is cut off at its thickest part, so that it shall sit
firmly on the astragal of the shaft ; for these reasons the lower
leaflet must be considered abnormal ; but in the longer leaves,
the diminution in the distances between the eyes, as they
approach the top, is more obvious. Having set out the eyes,
we now have to draw the pipes which descend from them.
These pipes, though perhaps suggested by natural leaves, may
almost be said to be a creation of art : they owe their pre-
ponderance over the ribs to their tapering downwards instead
of upwards, as the ribs of the leaves must necessarily have
done, and thus too much crowding is avoided at the base of
the leaf. Try to emphasize the ribs instead of the pipes, and
you will at once understand the motives and necessities of the
old artists. (Plate 17.)

v / / ^»"*-» t+ e i i QO TT^>>w

L. i cyn f{ ft \f**^

OP THE >y

UNIVERSITY)
\^

86

Lecture VI.

A comparison of the finest examples with those of a feebler
style will show that they owe their dignity to the massive
rigidity of their stalks and pipes. Now, the character of these
pipes depend in a great measure on the general outline of
the leaf and vice versa ; if the leaf splays out at the base,
there is plenty of room for each pipe to take a vigorous and
independent course of its own, and leave space for each
leaflet to spring from the base. (No. i.) But if the sides of

— " 4

I. 2. 3.

the leaf are more parallel, the space occupied by the pipes
will be much curtailed, and they must either taper and converge
more suddenly into the central stalk (No. 2), or run directly
down in perpendicular lines. (No. 3.) The only objection to
the last treatment, which is that commonly adopted, is that it
allows no space for the lower parts of the leaflets ; they have
to disappear, as it were, behind the central mass on which the
stalks and pipes are drawn in vigorous incisive grooves, but in
the expression of rigidity and firmness, this treatment is better
than No. 2, for in that the pipes taper to weakness, and
the leaf has a solitary backbone, whereas No. 3 is all back-
bone, and this weakness is made still more obvious by the
monotonous grace of the radiating lines of the leaflets and
pipes which run too much in one direction. The care with
which this fault is generally avoided, shows the profound
knowledge of the old artists ; and you will seldom find system
No. 2 adopted in leaves for capitals, though in those for
ornamental panels a tendency to a more feminine grace may
be permitted; but even in these we may trace what, to a
superficial observer, might appear a discord, while in reality
it is a chord of a nobler harmony. In the example from the
temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, there is the nearest

The Acanthus.

approach I have yet noticed to a uniform system of radiation
of the lines of both pipes and leaflets ; but in this case the
whole character of every part of the leaf is so strong and stony,
that it can well afford to bear these graces without much loss
of its stern dignity.

In many examples of the Corinthian and Composite orders
the leaves of the capital have a slight tendency to appear as
if they sprang between the capital and the shaft, and formed a
nest to enclose the bell. In this case, the pipes of the leaves
should splay out at their base, as in No. I, but this splaying
out, more especially of the bell, should be used with the

2.

utmost moderation. Where the outline of the bell continues
the perpendicular line of the shaft (No. 2), the stalks and pipes
of the leaves should go straight down on the top of the
astragal.

When we have determined the position of the eyes and the
character of the pipes that descend from them, our next task
will be to draw the general outline of the leaflets
between each eye, and more especially the line of
their lower border, for on that principally depends,
not only the form of the leaflet itself, but of each
eye as well. Diagram 3 will best explain the varia-
tion of angle as we approach the top of the leaf,
and also show the variation in the form of the eyes.
We have next to draw the upper part of the leaflet,

88

Lecture VI.

and on this depend the three leading types of the acanthus.
First, those whose leaflets do not extend beyond the lower

edge of the leaflet above.

7 ^rr^\2^r^^\3 Secondly, those which, ex-
ceeding it, lap over. Thirdly,
those that lie under the leaf
above.

Now, before we can quite
understand the respective
merits of these treatments, it will be necessary to consider the
light and shade of each, for it is, after all, as a composition of
light and shade that we must consider this subject. Let us
revert to what I said as to the necessity of emphasizing the
stalks and pipes, if we would give a stern and rigid character
to the leaves ; and this sort of sternness, we must remember,
is more necessary out of doors than in. Now, as the light out
of doors comes from above, there is no difficulty in getting
effect by horizontal projections or hollows ; but to get any
effect in perpendicular lines, it is necessary not only to plough
them in very deeply, but to undercut them as well.1 The

following section will best explain
the depth and extent of the undercut-
ting:— A is the projecting central
stalk ; B B the pipes ; C C C is the
hollow of the surface of the leaflets. Now, if the general
surface of the leaf were a plane level throughout, with the
points, C C C C, it is obvious that the stalk and pipes would
be disagreeably prominent and isolated, and accordingly we
find that each leaflet, as it merges between the pipes, assumes
the form of a cockle-shell, the points of the foliage standing
forward till they are level with the face of the pipes, and thus
each leaflet holds, as it were, in its palm a piece of precious
graduated shadow, contrasted on the one hand by the deep,
black cutting shadow of the pipes, and on the other by the

1 When we come to consider the Gothic style we shall find that the
same principle holds good ; and the more acute the arch the more deep
and reed-like are its mouldings.

The Acanthus. 89

sparkling edge of the upper points of the leaf, which is still
further emphasized by its coming against the shadow thrown
by the leaflet above. In this style the leaflets are much under-
cut, and this leads me to a very important point — the degree
of thickness which is necessary in a stone leaf and the quality
of its edge. Now, I think every leaf ought to be massive, and
obviously stone ; no attempt should be made to imitate the
thinness of natural leaves, and the edge ought not to be too
smooth and uniform, and seldom cutting. Any attempt at
neat precision would be fatal to the dignity of a great leaf;
and now we see why this style of leaf is proper for columns of
vast proportions, and we may almost say proper only for them,
for if they were much diminished, they would be too thin for
stone. I hope you begin to appreciate the skill with which
all the necessary qualities are produced ; the rigid stalks and
pipes drawn with bold black lines ; the shadow which exhibits
the shell-like form of the leaflet, the light edge which every-
where clearly defines it, while the unity of the whole leaf is
expressed by the harmonious radiation of its principal lines,
and the one great shadow from its overhanging apex. Truly
the men who conceived and executed all this were consum-
mate artists.

Those who know anything of the prevailing tendencies in
our schools will not be surprised to hear that the study of the
works of these great masters of ornamental art has been en-
tirely superseded by flat and flimsy naturalistic rubbish ; a
few outlines from Albertolli, and the everlasting Madeleine
scroll, being alone retained to represent, I suppose, classical
art. The Madeleine scroll is nothing more than the Medici
scroll put into the modern mill, and turned out spick-and-span
new, with every one of its beauties stamped into metallic
mechanical ugliness ; and, though magnificent examples of
antique, as well as of cinquecento foliage, are easily to be
obtained, this piece of neat vulgarity is still the stock in trade
of our schools, and hundreds of copies are made of it every
year.

For drawing, the student is furnished with emasculated
copies of Albertolli's foliage. Albertolli has the style of a

90 Lectiire VI.

writing master, and astonishes us by his flourishes and the
graceful sweep of the lines of his engraving ; but his drawings
give no idea of the originals. If you look through Albertolli,
you will see the same leaf repeated for ever. I do not assert
that there is no authority to be found for a leaf somewhat
similar, but if you will only examine the examples of foliage
we have in the Museum, you will see that he has chosen a
very bad style, and has altogether omitted any hint of the ex-
istence of any other. How bad Albertolli is, you will learn to
know ; but, even if he had not entirely failed to convey any
notion of the beauty of the antique, I should object altogether
to his use of a thin, wiry outline, because it is impossible to
represent the form of foliage by it : it represents, and can re-
present, nothing but that abomination in art, a tin edge. To
compel students to leave out the beauty of the things they copy
is a fatal mistake ; if their interest in ornament is not effec-
tually extinguished by the process, this system of study will
inevitably develope in their future work the same defects as I
have just noticed in the Madeleine scroll.

But to return to our shadow. There is no difficulty in getting
shadow beneath the lower edge of a leaflet, and the more hori-
zontal is its direction the deeper will be its shadow, and the light
edge of the upper part of the leaflet below will be most effec-
tively relieved by coming against this shadow. This simple ar-
rangement is so completely effective that you will find it adopted
in the majority of cinquecento capitals ;
and an examination of the following
example will, I think, convince you
that the Italians were hardly less skil-
ful than their ancestors. In the Roman
capital the vigorous incisive lines pro-
duced an effective contrast with the
plain and perhaps polished shaft. In
this an exactly opposite principle is
adopted ; the whole face of the leaf is
kept as broad as possible ; the surface
is subtly but vigorously modelled ; as the leaflets bend firmly
forward, they cast a graduated shadow, while their serrated

The Acanthus. 9 1

outline sparkles against the shadow of the leaflet above. Their
edge is massive, and in every respect the leaf looks strong.
But when we come to the second variety, in which the top of
each leaflet laps over the bottom of the one above, there is
almost necessarily a diminution of their apparent thickness, an
effect which, it is true, is to some extent avoided by the top of
each leaflet bending forward. And this bending forward is
necessary on other grounds, for it gives a shadow to supply
the place of that which is lost by the hollow between the
leaves being filled up. When you take all these circumstances
into consideration, you will easily understand the rationale of
the overlapping leaflets ; but nothing is so calculated to im-
press this on your memory as modelling, or better still, carving
a leaf. You will see how natural it is to cut away the leaf
above in order to give relief to the top of the one below. You
will understand why the overlapping leaves are more flat, and
have less prominent pipes than the shell-like leaves of the
previous style, which do not, and, owing to their form, could
not overlap. You will understand the whole rationale of the
construction of such leaves as those from the capitals of the
temples of Mars Ultor, and of Jupiter Stator. Each leaf is evi-
dently roughed out with a plane surface, and the whole effect
is obtained by scooping out certain parts, and leaving the stalk,
pipes, and edges of the leaves, which you can easily detect, to lie
in the original plane. And here I may mention the enormous
advantage of the work being, we may almost say, designed as
well as executed in situ. Modern work is generally copied by
inartistic hands from a model made in a studio with a light,
as likely as not, quite different to that in which the real work
will be seen. You cannot examine a scrap of old foliage
without feeling that if we are ever again to do work so fresh,
vigorous, and beautiful, it must be executed as well as de-
signed by men of acute artistic feeling, and skilled in every
artifice of effect. I really believe that there would be no diffi-
culty in the matter if we could only get rid of our modern
education and of our stupid methods of separating labour
from art.

The proportions of leaves of a capital should be graduated

9 2 Lecture VI.

according to their position. The lower zone of leaves should
appear to bind the bell more closely than the upper ones.
This drawing from a photograph of the diagonal view of the
capital from the temple of Jupiter Olympius
will give a very good notion of the complete
and reasonable harmony which pervaded every
detail of antique work.

Thus far we have considered the general
construction of the acanthus, the arrangement
— of its pipes and eyes, and the lapping over, or
non-lapping over, of its leaflets. We will now proceed to notice
the form of the edge of the leaflets themselves, and the
arrangement of its serrations or lobes ; and of these the variety
is infinite. (Plates 17, 18, 19.)

The great majority of Corinthian capitals are composed of
what is called the olive acanthus, each leaflet consisting of
four, five, or six serrations or tines. The more massive the
leaf the fewer are the serrations. You will observe that in the
majority of examples the tine next to the eye has a perpen-
dicular direction, and that the central tine or lobe is decidedly
predominant ; in the leaflets with four tines, the second ; in those
with five or seven, the third and fourth. I have already ex-
plained that the surface of the whole leaflet is hollowed ; but
each lobe is also hollowed, and the leaflet exactly resembles
the inside of a cockle-shell, the edges which are left between
the tapering flutes converging towards the central stalk. A
rounded lobe will naturally have a rounded fluting, but an
angular lobe would have an angular groove.

In small examples of wood-carving, and also in some
stone capitals, the leaf is left flat ; a sharp incision from the

The A cant fiits. 93

angles between the lobes being used to show the radiating
lines.

We now come to a more varied compound leaf, which,
like all compound leaves, has a predominant centre, with
subordinate lobes ; and this arrangement . admits of any
degree or complexity and variety. As a general rule, a leaf
with intricate serrations has its surface treated in a broad
and simple manner. Its pipes are delicately marked, and its
form is indicated by subtle gradations of shadow.

The rationale of the treatment of the edge of a leaf is
very simple ; if it comes against a shadow, it must be exhi-
bited by light; if against a light background, it must be ex-
hibited by shadow. You will now see why the edges of so
many of the cinquecento examples are round, massive, and,
perhaps you may think, a little lumpy ; it is only so that the
edge could catch enough light to exhibit it effectively. If the
edge comes against a light background, it is necessary to
bend the top of the leaflet sufficiently forward to get a shadow,
which will enable you to show the edge dark against the light
behind.

In Plates 17, 18, 19, are shown examples of the leading
types of the acanthus. It is hardly necessary for me to say
that, given one leaflet and one eye, we ought to be able to
construct the whole capital. There is not only a perfect har-
mony between every part, but a constant repetition. The
severer the style the less is variety admissible. Never be
afraid of repetition in good architecture ; you will find that
those capitals whose leaves are made up of leaflets having
throughout the same number of lobes, are generally the finest.
Variation is only proper in the weaker and more complex
styles. There remains one point, which perhaps may not
have occurred to you, namely, the direction in which the
leaves turn over. The curling over of the top of the leaf
is of course symmetrical ; it turns neither to the right nor the
left ; it is at right angles to the general plane of the leaf; and
the turn-over of each subordinate leaflet also is nearly at
right angles to the general direction of its surface, so that a
leaf with a perfectly flat surface would have leaflets turning

94 Lectitre VI.

over in the same direction as the central top ; but cinque-
cento capitals have frequently no more than one leaf at each
angle : as each occupies nearly a quarter of a circle, the cur-
vature of its plan would naturally cause the sides of the leaf
to turn over obliquely. You must not, however, conclude
that the surface of each leaf or leaflet lies rigidly in one
direction ; it frequently has a beautiful twist, not unlike the
blade of a screw propeller ; but be very cautious that you
do not fall too much in love with this deviation from rectitude.
If you pass your hand along the face of the leaflets of the
Trajan scroll, you will perceive the beauty of this double
curvature, and at the same time the moderation of its extent.
Next to the foliage of the capital, we may consider that
which so often occurs on the soffits of modillions and brackets.
You should remember it is the back of the leaf that we have
been considering with its projecting ribs. If we bend a ser-
rated leaf backwards, the openings between each
leaflet will be widened, and we get in this way a
leaf somewhat thistly in character, but admi-
rably adapted for effect in the position for
which it is wanted. On modillions, the stalks
and pipes are generally very prominent, but on
renaissance brackets you will observe that the
surface of the leaf is almost always left broad ;
its pipes delicately marked, while its outline is cut boldly and
suddenly down to the ground. On the bases of candelabra,
&c., we have the face of the leaf; the leaflets which before
were separated here overlap, and lie flatter than they do in
examples which are upright, and this gives the whole leaf
a thin and flimsy appearance ; its edge is more varied, and
often rounded to prevent its thinness being apparent, and
being nearer the eye it is more finished as well as more varied
than the leaves on soffits.

Of foliage on panels and pilasters, we have in the Museum
an infinite profusion of the most beautiful designs. Owing to
their purely ornamental character, and to the lowness of their
relief, the severity which was so essential in a capital, is no
longer necessary ; and the most playful fancy, the most

Ornamental Foliage, hj N I VE R s

exquisite refinement and grace, and the greatest variety, are
all welcomed with pleasure. The effect of the principal leaves
is generally produced by one or other of two systems of treat-
ment. Either the leaf is upright, and even" artifice we have
before noticed is brought into play to exhibit its form ; or it
droops over, its top or back, being kept broad and simple,
receives the fullest effect of the falling light, while its serra-
tions are made out by the most vigorous and incisive shadows
below. (Plate 18.) But, as a general rule, the foliage of
pilasters is almost always upwards, but very few leaves
bending over or downwards.

It is very necessary that you should study the important
law of Gradation (Plate 19). Subtly expressed in the severer
examples, it is obvious enough in foliage, which is more purely
ornamental ; some leaves graduate upwards, some downwards,
some culminate in the middle, but in all the serrations are
arranged in progressive order.

A comparison of cinquecento foliage with natural leaves
will show how completely the old artists had mastered the
principles of nature. Modern artists arrange a few literal
transcripts in a loose and inartistic way, and deride their great
predecessors because their work is, they say, unnatural ; but
the fact is that they are as ignorant of nature as they are of
art, and can only make imitative copies of detail ; while the
work of the old men, considering its material, position, and pur-
pose, is almost as natural as nature herself.

Although the acanthus for the higher styles, and a few other
types of more ornamental foliage, have been brought to such
artistic perfection, that it is almost impossible to improve them,
and most other forms selected from nature appear deficient in
some qualities which these fulfil, the adaptation of new vege-
table forms should occupy our attention more than it does ; and
I hope that before long we may add varieties to our list of orna-
mental leaves which may have merits apart from their novelty,
a quality which you should never allow to lead you astray.
More bad ornament is,I believe, done from a desire to produce
something new, than from any other motive.

It is useless to describe the varied forms of leaves, which

96 Lecture VL

can be illustrated so much better by drawings, and I will
merely remark that an examination of the best examples of
antique and renaissance art, and of Nature herself, will show
that the sides of leaves are not only more straight, but more
parallel, than a reference to Albertolli, or to modern examples,
would lead you to suppose.

The subject of foliage will be dealt with more fully in future
lectures ; we will now return to our classified list of the ele-
ments of ornament.

Flowers afford fewer suggestions for ornament than might
at first be supposed, and rosettes are oftener made up of leaves
than of actual flower petals.1 The variety of rosettes is almost
inexhaustible. (Plate 20). The soffit of the arches at St. Paul's
will show their effective use, and afford numerous examples.
Besides symmetrical rosettes, there are other spiral, viewed
sideways, &c., which occur frequently to vary the flowing
scroll-work of stalks and leaves. The rosette in the Medicis
scroll, and the varieties in the spandril,.by Stevens, afford valu-
able patterns and suggestions. (Plate 21.)

Berries, seedpods, beans, and heads of corn have all been
conventionalized and used ornamentally, and, no doubt,
m^ny other natural forms might readily be pressed into the
service.

Festoons are of many sorts. The symmetrically disposed
leaves, the same bound round with fillets, the leaves disposed
in knots, or starting from convential knobs (Plate 20) ;
leaves enclosing masses of fruit, and sometimes a bundle of
stalks, not unlike the fasces of the Lictors, are all used to give
variety and mass to this most effective form of ornament.

Festoons, like everything else, must be ordered according
to the severity of the architecture which they adorn. The
florid naturalistic wreaths, or festoons, can only be used in the
looser and more playful styles.

1 Botanists regard inflorescence as a complex modification of foliation,
and as differing from ordinary leaf growth rather in complexity and ar-
rangement than in kind. It is interesting to observe this correspondence
between ornamental instinct and scientific insight.

Ornament should not be Laboured. 97

The next great order of elements is composed of things,
such zspots, vases, labels, patera, &c., and these, on account of
their human relationship, take a higher rank than vegetable, or
even many animal forms. Indeed, I am not at all sure that they
ought not to come next to man himself. Tools, musical instru-
ments, trophies, arms, helmets, and shields, candelabra, altars,
medallions, and masks, sceptres, fasces, ribbons ; the thyrsus
and architectural details all form ornament of a very high order
in Roman, Cinquecento, and I may also add, in Oriental art
as well.1 (Plate 22.) Witness the frequent and effective use
of Chinese symbols and still-life on Oriental china.

The fourth series of elements consists of animal forms, be-
ginning with shells, horns, skulls, claws, wings, snakes, lizards,
fishes, more especially dolphins, birds, eagles, owls (plate 23),
griffins, horses, lions, or parts of these combined with foliage,
and other ornamental forms, and lastly,
The Human Figure :

ist. Parts combined with other ornament.

2nd. Symmetrically disposed.

3rd. Composition of the figure without backgrounds.

4th. With backgrounds, but evenly distributed, and so on
through the whole scale of art ; and here I may explain the
constant use of boys or amorini in ornament. They are simply
small humans of a fuller and plumper growth than men ; they
elevate the rank of the ornament without making it too serious,
for ornament should seldom be serious and never laboured, it
should be the light playful easy work of skilled artists.

Italian ornament was quite good enough for its place,
and the supply of it was practically inexhaustible. It freely
pervaded all the uses of life, and every object was made
beautiful by its spontaneous and cheap application ; but
modern ornament is often so highly finished, that it is not
only ineffective, but is also too expensive to have more than a
very limited application.

1 Critics gravely assert that such things, more especially architecture,
ought not to be represented at all. We seem to have reached a climax in
the philosophy of art, at which the only thing at all certain is, that no one
knows anything about it except those who don't do it.

H

LECTURE VII.
THE PROPER DISTRIBUTION OF ORNAMENT.

YOU will observe that the ornamental elements which
I described and classified in my last lecture are
arranged according to their ornamental as well as
organic rank ; but besides this, there is a gradation in the
treatment of each object from the severely conventional to
the simply imitative ; for instance, the treatment of a leaf
may range from a stone bracket, the form of which is sug-
gested by, rather than copied from, nature, to a direct
transcript from some leaf with all its individual details of
form and colour ; but, as a general rule, the higher the
organic form, the less does it lend itself to conventional
treatment.

The next step in the study of ornamental art, and, perhaps,
the most important of all, is to know the proper relative
positions of the different sorts of ornament, and where to
treat an object conventionally and where imitatively. The
key to this difficulty will be found in architecture ; and this
is not to be wondered at when we consider that architecture
is the best thought out development of ornamental art ; the
most stately, compact, ordered, and soundest art. It is the
result of the accumulated taste and experience of the great
men of all ages ; while the influence of painting is confined to

A rchitectural Arrangement.

99

those who are admitted to the inner precincts of public or
private galleries. Architecture rears her stately form before
all; and so universal is her influence, that it is impossible for
any except those in a state of primitive ignorance to evade it.
Accordingly, we find that not only buildings, but cabinets,
boxes, cassoni, clock-cases, picture-frames, furniture, and all
square forms, are obviously treated architecturally ; and that
even vases, looking-glasses, handles of knives and daggers,
and other irregular forms, are not free from its all-pervading
influence.

Architecture will form the subject of a series of lectures, and
I have already pointed out to you many of its leading prin-
ciples, but it will best serve our purpose here to take some
example of advanced

architecture, and
pointing out its seve-
ral parts, show the
principle which should
regulate the ornamen-
tation of each.

Now, what is the
first thing that strikes
one in such an ex-
ample as this ? It is
that those parts which
are practically and aes-
thetically essential are
emphasized by mould-
ings, or by using ma-
terial of a higher or
more compact nature
than in the less es-
sential parts. For in-
stance, if this compo-
sition were executed in stone and brick, the pilasters, archi-
traves, cornices, and mouldings generally would be in stone,
the spandrils and panels of brick ; and this gives us the key to
.the proper position of ornament ; the less essential a space is

ioo Lecture VII.

architecturally, the less severe and conventional need be its
ornamentation.1

Reverting to our diagram of the scale of art, and to the
classified list of ornamental elements, we have only to arrange
the several parts of a building on a corresponding method,
according to what we may call their architectural rank, and
we have the solution of all our difficulties.

The most essential parts of all will be left plain, and this is
the best and severest of all ornament ; it is not only quite un-
exceptionable, but if other parts are highly ornamented, it is
by contrast the most beautiful ; besides, the highest perfection
of ornamental art is when the thing is beautiful of itself, with-
out any adventitious aid. The shaft of a column of the
severer orders cannot be improved by any ornamentation, but
in the more florid styles the straight line of flutes and reeds
may be appropriately used. The plinth and base of a column,
and, indeed, the basement all round a building, should in all
cases be plain, and I need hardly say that the lower parts of
a building are more essential than the upper, which could not
exist but for them ; accordingly, we generally find they are the
plainest and most severe. I have already pointed out the
ornament proper for mouldings, and have only here to note
that the plain surfaces which are most essential are orna-
mented with straight lines ; ornament on the bed-moulds which
support and are subordinate to them is less simple ; while that
of the cymatium, which is an ornamental member, is still
more florid.

We will now proceed to the subordinate order, which may
very appropriately be more florid than the principal one. The
pilaster might even be panelled ; and here let me explain the
rationale of panelling. It is nothing more than the architec-
tural principle applied to the parts of a building. Take, for
instance, a pilaster or a door, if the surface of these is left flush,

1 There is a mechanical fitness in this aesthetic principle. The
essential parts of a design are those on which its strength and
security depend, either in reality or in appearance, and these must be
maintained in apparent integrity, with the alternative of suggesting
structural weakness.

A rcfi itecturai A rrangement. i o I

each part is equally essential, architecturally ; but directly we
panel them, and the styles are emphasized by mouldings,
their architectural value is, as it were, enhanced at the expense
of the enclosed panel. The one must be left plain or de-
corated in the severest manner, while the other would bear
a more advanced style of ornament, though in the case of a
pilaster, it should always be to some extent firm and sym-
metrical. If painted there should be no recession of back-
ground, and if modelled the ornament should be, as it were,
imposed ; it would not be right to melt the outline into the
ground, thus destroying the apparent reality of the surface ;
and, accordingly, we find ornament is severely defined
according to its architectural position. In a spandril, for in-
stance, the solidity of which is not architecturally necessary,
the modelling may here melt into the ground, there be more
prominent. In short, there may be much greater variety of
relief than in a pilaster, while a still greater licence is allowed
to painting, because the surface remains obvious to the sense,
though there may be on it a pictorial recession of the back-
ground ; but the more nearly this pictorial recession is illusive,
the less ought it to be used on those parts which are archi-
tecturally essential, or the greater the architectural value of
any surface, the less varied should be the relief upon it.

The same rule applies to the organic rank of the elements
of which the ornament is composed. The higher organic
forms should be used in the less essential parts, and they may
be treated pictorially in a degree varying according to their
position, from diagrams severely designed and composed, of
flat bas-reliefs, up to picturesque compositions, in which all
the resources of art are used to give force and dramatic effect
— in short, the less essential is the surface, the more may the
decoration on it lean towards the imitative pole of the scale
of art.

The more a space is enclosed with styles and mouldings,
the more appropriately can it be decorated pictorially. For
example, the spaces between the ribs of a ceiling may be
decorated in a more florid and pictorial manner than would
be proper if the whole roof were barrel-vaulted, for then each

IO2 Lecttire VII.

square foot of the surface would be equally essential. The
decoration of the surface of such a domical apse as that in the
theatre of the Museum should be of a character more severe
than would be necessary if it were ribbed and panelled ; but
if these ribs and mouldings were painted, it would also justify
or excuse a pictorial treatment, as we see in the ceiling of the
Sistine Chapel ; the vault of which is plain, though it is divded
into panels by architectural details, which exist only in
chiaroscuro, and not in actual substance.

This then is the theory of the proper architectural distribu-
tion of ornament, and you will see how completely it is in
harmony with the practice of the old masters, and how narrow
and one-sided is the theory now so much in vogue that all
ornament should be flat, and how small a residuum of truth it
contains. Indeed, if it were true, all decorative art would be
reduced to mere diagrams. The modern theory is, however,
not without its advantages ; it is easily taught and com-
prehended, and dispenses with such tedious and unprofitable
studies as anatomy, chiaroscuro, or of colour worthy of the
name. One night's study of it has set up many a critic
with " principles " for his life. It is plausible, and has only to
be loudly asserted to influence the thoughtless, but it is
certainly surprising to find men who ought to know better,
not only adopting it as a guide for themselves, but using it
like a small tape rule, with which they measure and condemn
the works of men of the most profound knowledge, experience,
and power, thus vainly striving by means of a shallow dogma
to keep abler men than themselves within the narrow limits of
their own capacities.

The adherence to the theory of architectural distribution
varies according to the severity of the style, and in ornamental
work is still more lax.

I cannot too often impress upon you that architecture as
distinguished from mere building, and indeed all art, has to
deal with appearances. Appearances may and should, in a
great measure, correspond with the reality, but if they do not,
the decorative treatment must be guided by the architecture
alone. For instance, in the side of a room, which is divided

Decoration of Ceilings. 103

into panelled spaces by pilasters, the panels may be treated
pictorially, and with receding backgrounds in proportion to
the deepness of the styles and mouldings which enclose them,
although a careful examination of the structure of the house
might betray the fact that those particular wall spaces were
structurally of the highest importance. This leads me to
the consideration of ceilings, which may be treated on the
panelled principle without any impropriety arising from the
fact that there may be a floor above : we have only to deal
with what can be seen at one time.

One of the numerous critics who abound in the Depart-
ment of Science and Art, and take so much trouble to teach
me my business, laid down a law for my guidance about
ceilings which had the benefit of simplicity, and of being easy
to carry out. He said that ornament of any kind, but more
especially pictures, were out of place on a ceiling ; it was dis-
agreeable to look at them, and altogether wrong in principle.
Now that is a very plausible theory, but it so happens, that all
decorative artists have invariably seized upon ceilings for
the display of all the resources of art, and I should say that
for one decorated wall you will find half-a-dozen decorated
ceilings ; for you get a fair field on a ceiling, whereas a wall
space is usually occupied by furniture, windows, &c., and as I
hope you will all some day be asked to paint a ceiling, and are
sure, at all events, to wish to do so, we will, notwithstanding
our friend's theory, proceed to inquire into the principles which
should guide us in our work ; and here we shall again find
the architectural law will lead us to the true solution of our
difficulties. The ceiling is either plain or panelled ; if
quite plain, the surface is uniformly essential, and accord-
ingly the ornament on it should be evenly distributed. The
relief, or rather the recession, should be no more than is
necessary to enable you to represent the objects depicted on
it. A heavy treatment is almost inadmissible, and we see at
once how appropriate were the ancient arabesques ; they are
light, evenly distributed, fanciful, happy ornament ; if subjects
were introduced they were panelled, or represented as hanging
in picture frames ; and in this way, picturesque groups, and

104 Lecture

even landscapes, added to the interest of the decoration
without destroying the architectural importance of the sur-
face.

I may here remark that a great many of the ornamental
ceilings which are engraved as flat ceilings, are really the
decoration of vaults. A careful examination of the details
will show you that in many instances they would be quite out
of place on a flat ceiling ; festoons, and pendents or wreaths,
for instance, should always hang.

You will find in the library numerous examples of ceilings
treated on the panelled principle ; a great many are actually
panelled, but painted styles will justify the same pictorial
treatment of the enclosed space ; and for a long time pictures
were painted in these panels, which in no way differed from
paintings on an upright wall ; but there is no question that
there is an awkwardness in this system, and to that extent
I sympathize with my friend's criticism about ceilings.

It certainly is unpleasant to look at a picture on a ceiling,
particularly on a high ceiling ; if you get directly under it,
which is obviously the right position, for it is only then that
you are at right angles to the plane of the picture, it is a
breakneck business at the best ; but if you are not directly
under it, and can see it at a more comfortable angle as far as
your neck is concerned, then unfortunately all the figures are
distorted. If this produces an unpleasant effect when they are
standing upright, the effect is certainly not improved when
they appear standing on their heads, as must necessarily occur if
you happen to go to the other end of the room. A considera-
tion of the whole scheme of the Sistine ceiling will, I think,
show that Michael Angelo was sensible of these difficulties. A
section of the vault of the Sistine Chapel is a flat ellipse. Now
it is quite clear that the difficulties I have stated do not occur
with regard to the figures which are painted on the sides of
the vault, which would naturally be treated as a continuation
of the side walls. Michael Angelo has accordingly allotted to
the sides more than their proper share of the central space,
and the remainder he has divided into panels, in which the
figures are all drawn with their feet towards the altar-end of

Decoration of Ceilings . 105

the chapel, for in that direction alone would a spectator be
supposed to look ; and thus he has reduced to a minimum the
objection to a pictorial treatment. But on a ceiling which is
flat, and in a room in which there is no reason why we should
be in one position rather than another, there is no question
that the representation of subjects as in an ordinary picture
is objectionable in practice, and hardly to be defended in
theory ; and these considerations led to a gradual change in
the whole treatment of ceilings, beginning with a compromise,
by which the old method was retained, but some of the prin-
cipal figures were partially foreshortened ; then in the selection
of subjects which could be seen with equal advantage from
any point of view ; and, lastly, by representing figures as they
would actually appear if seen through a hole in the ceiling.
Prophets, apostles, and martyrs were represented on pedestals,
while the mid-air was peopled with the whole Host of
Heaven, or the gods of profane mythology were seen sitting
on the clouds, and all the resources of foreshortening and per-
spective were used to give reality to the scene (the more im-
probable or impossible, the more necessary is it to make a
scene appear real), and the whole surface was destroyed ; the
object was to destroy it as much as possible, and to give
a limitless vision of the heaven above, and all our laws
ceased to restrain the artists within due bounds. They are
as free as the air they attempt to depict in the place of the
ceiling. The more illlusive their work, the less is even distri-
bution necessary, and all the laws of decoration are merged
in the full licence of pictorial art. But a greater evil arose
from the necessity of limiting the subject to mythological of
allegorical scenes, which afforded a reasonable excuse foi
peopling the heavens with a multitude of flying figures and
amorini, and this resulted in endless and mindless repetitions
— a florid, unquiet, and meretricious style.

Intimately connected with the recession of the background
is the degree of relief, not only in sculpture but in painting.
In sculpture, the relief depends as much, if not more, on the
qualities necessary to make the work visible in the particular
light in which it is placed, as it does on the degree of recession

io6 Lecture VII.

allowable in the composition, and no great degree of actual
recession should ever be allowed.

The panels of the Ghiberti gates seem to me to have ex-
ceeded the proper limit in this respect, and are unsatisfactory
from their too irregular surface ; and without being pedantic, I
cannot help feeling that the panels of an external door should
still remain obviously solid and compact. The recession of
the ground should be that which is as much drawn as modelled.
The skill with which the two arts are, as it were, combined may
be seen in numerous examples in the Museum, and it is of
this sort of recession that the architectural theory will give
you the measure.

With regard to bas-reliefs, I may state what is obvious
enough if we consider the matter. The relief throughout
should be proportional ; for instance, if the extreme relief
allowed for the bas-relief of a full-sized head, the real depth of
which was six inches, were one inch, each part would project
one-sixth of the actual projection. This is simple enough ;
but when, as is sure to be the case in groups, some part of a
figure is in front of another, while another part of it comes, as
it were, suddenly over a hole in the background, are we then
to adhere to the same proportion of relief? To this I say, not
if it looks obviously wrong. You must make a compromise,,
and change imperceptibly from one scale to another. Heads
which actually project, notwithstanding that the bodies may
be in low relief, should sometimes be modelled in the round.
This is a matter which must be settled by the taste of the
artist, taking into consideration the points from which the com-
position is to be seen. If such compositions as those from the
Certosa could only be looked at directly from the front, I see
no objection to them : they are, as it were, pictures modelled
in layers, and very skilfully done they are ; but nothing can
well be more ludicrous when they are seen at all from one side.
In the Elgin frieze adherence to theory is tempered by common
sense, and you cannot do better than study the way in which
the sudden transition from a very slight to a very great reces-
sion of background is managed.

Rounded forms are only properly exhibited by a side light.

Principles of Shadow. 107

Accordingly, we find in the Elgin frieze, and in hundreds of
examples of ornament, particularly on soffits, and, in short,
anywhere where the light is evenly diffused, it is necessary to
leave the general mass of the object, be it figure or ornament,
as flat as possible, cutting in the outline suddenly.

As an instance of the ill effects of a more rounded treat-
ment, you have only to look at a panel of my own, facing the
Ceramic Gallery, which is entirely in shadow. The ornament
on this panel, though actually in very high relief, is wanting
in that effect which proper skill would have produced with a
much lower relief. We learn by mistakes, and having men-
tioned this one of my own I will now direct your attention
to the lunettes recently put up in the refreshment rooms,
which, though vigorously modelled, and doubtless exceed-
ingly picturesque and effective in a side light, are so want-
ing in effect in the diffused reflected light in which they
are placed, as to be almost incomprehensible. The leaves
which so often occur on the soffits of brackets, in cinquecento
art, are examples of the proper treatment, a treatment which
is very useful out of doors as well as in, for though the sun
gives us shadows which show off rounded forms, we know
there are days on which he does not make his appearance, and
on a grey, cloudy day the light is evenly diffused ; and to get
any effect it is necessary to cut the perpendicular lines very
deeply. The leaf should be left as broad and simple as pos-
sible, its outline and serrations marked by sudden shadows
and projecting lights. So far, then, for ornament in relief;
but when we come to painting it is necessary to know the
rationale of shadow before we can understand the architectural
distribution of its different qualities, and I shall endeavour to
give a concise account of its facts and principles.

I need hardly say that shadow is the absence of light. If
the eye were in the position of the light, and you were to take
a rod of charcoal, or any other material that would mark with
its side as well as its point, and were to pass it over the
apparent outline of any object, it would leave a line which
would coincide with the edge of the shadow ; in other words,
the edge of a shadow is an outline from another point of view ;

io8 Lecture VII.

and in this way you can always determine the exact position of
the edge of a shadow. The difference between tone and actual
shadow can also be detected by holding a pencil in such a posi-
tion that it casts a shadow on the doubtful part ; if the shadow
is perceptible it is obvious that the part on which it falls had
been previously, in some measure, however slightly, illuminated.
Those parts of an object which lie at right angles to the
light, receive the fullest share of its rays, and are in what is
called high light, while those surfaces which recede from it are
more scantily illuminated, according to the angle they make
with the light ; and the relative degree of light on every part
of an object could always be determined with mathematical
precision by making accurate sections, and drawing evenly
distributed rays from the point of light.

A very important point with regard to shadow is the pro-
portion it should bear to the light. If you have equal light
and equal dark, not only is the object cut up, and artistically
smaller than by any other arrangement, but the shadow itself
represents the form so badly that it can scarcely be said to
represent it at all. Take for instance the moon when it is
exactly half-moon. The edge of the shadow is a perfectly

straight line, which can hardly be
considered a characteristic repre-
sentation of a sphere ; or take a
baluster — if the light falls at right
angles to the line of vision, and
perfectly horizontally, the edge of
the shadow on even so complicated
a form as this will be perfectly
straight, and therefore the worst
that could possibly be. Again, a
light which is exactly behind the
spectator will give no shadow at all,
and the object will, in a pictorial
sense, be wanting in solidity as well as form ; it will appear
too flat ; but as we gradually change the direction of the light
from one or other of these positions the shadow will more and
more express the form, and the most expressive of all will

Principles of Shadow.. 109

be half way between the two when the shadow is cast from
a light which makes an angle of 45° with the line of vision.
It is necessary to observe that it should be at an angle of 45°
horizontally as well as perpendicularly ; accordingly we find
that this direction of light is adopted not only in architectural
and mechanical drawings (in which it enables the amount
of relief to be actually measured, thus making one drawing
do the work of two), but in all art generally, for it not
only exhibits the form to the best advantage, but the shadow
bears, in quantity, a very agreeable proportion to the light.
The next thing I would call your attention to is the form
of shadows, particularly on the human figure. The outline
of an object is, as a general rule, its simplest contour; the
form itself is really more varied. When you take a walk
in a hilly country, and see perhaps the long sweep of sky
line, how surprised you are at the variety of ground that
lies between ; what unsuspected valleys you come upon. The
fact is, that the outline is made up of the overlapping out-
lines of many forms in different planes. Drapery again affords
a more marked example of the same law. Folds which
have deep grooves, and present a great complexity of sur-
face, as they approach the contour and meet other folds,
form together a flowing and often continuous line. The
works of the greatest men exhibit a perception of this law
of simplicity of outline. The edge of shadow, which betrays
and expresses the more complicated intermediate forms,1 will
necessarily be less simple than the outline itself; but it should,
in large art, be as simple as possible. You should detect and
emphasize those outlines of shadow which the best express the
character of the figure, and you will find on a Hercules square
and vigorous forms ; on a woman oval forms, bounded by
gentle curves ; on a thin and meagre man the edge of the
shadow will be thin, angular and mean ; but as a general rule
it is better to omit angular and spiky forms of shadow,

1 For this reason the outline and quality of the edge of the shadow is,
of all studies connected with art, by far the most important, and, I may
add, the most neglected.

no Lecture VII.

they are quite exceptional, and interfere with the breadth
both of the light and the shade.

It is, no doubt, philosophically true that shadow is the
absence of light, and the influence of light preponderates so
much, that we are apt to forget that there are similar but
minor influences from everything else ; but you will the better
be able to comprehend the rationale of appearances if you
regard an object as affected not only by the light but by all
its surroundings — everything, whether light, dark, or colour,
sending forth rays of its own towards all things within its
reach. If colour, however faint, is perceptible to the eye, it
emits, you may be sure, similar streams on to the blindest
objects ; whether their effect is perceptible depends on the
reflective power of their surfaces. That the edge of a shadow
is the darkest, is the natural result of that part of an object
being less exposed to reflections from the most directly
illuminated objects behind it, and these reflections will most
directly influence the part which we may call the antipodes of
[the light. Shadows which are cast on to the light side of an
\ object are very dark because they are not only deprived of
Direct light, but receive no reflections, the dark side of all
neighbouring objects being necessarily towards them, and in
a studio lighted by a small window the whole surrounding of
the light is dark. I need hardly say that the colour of shadows
depends on their surroundings, and that the walls of a studio
produce the same, but less marked, effect that the intense
blue of the sky does out of doors, and those parts of an object
which are free from the more dominating influence of direct
light are tinged with their respective colours. You should
remember, too, that the position of high lights depends on
the texture of the object. On a perfectly dead surface high
lights remain locally fixed on those parts of it which lie at
right angles to the light ; but if the surface is at all shiny,
then the high lights will vary according to the position of the
spectator, and so it is with reflections.

All these and similar phenomena are obvious to even the
obtusest intellect, if it is only used ; but the imitative method
now in vogue so deadens all intellectual effort, that I have

Principles of Shadow. 1 1 1

frequently found the manufacturers of the most prodigious
drawings entirely ignorant of the simplest principles of light
and shade, and this must be my apology for mentioning such
obvious, and one would think such well-known, facts and
principles as these.

The next and by far the most important point with regard
to shadow is its quality, and the quality of its edge. The
smaller and more intense the light, the more cutting, defined,
and dark is the shadow. The larger and less intense the
light, the softer is the edge and the less is the contrast between
the light and shade.

I am almost ashamed to state such obvious truisms, but
these simple facts are the key to a knowledge of all the
varieties of art, and to the appropriate use of its different
qualities.

A light which is at once small and intense, is objectionable
artistically for exactly the same reason that we condemned
the straight line of the shadow in the half-moon : it does not
show the form. Whatever the shape of the object, or however
rounded its contours, the edge of the shadow is so cutting and
defined, that it would be a more appropriate representation of
an actual angle or edge, while the unity and breadth of the
object are destroyed by its being divided into two distinct
parts without any intervening gradations.

On the other hand, if the light is too evenly diffused, there
is not enough shadow to define form, or sufficient depth of it
to make the lights luminous. Art ranges between these two
extremes. The broad evenly diffused light is proper for ideal
art ; the concentrated intensity of a smaller light gives qualities
which are more brilliant, forcible, and picturesque, but at the
same time smaller, less noble, and less imaginative. The
natural result of the first is that the shadows will be com-
paratively pale, the edges soft and melting into the light ; and
as a large diffused light, regarded as daylight or light from
:he sky, is necessarily a distant light, the difference in its
illuminating power on the nearer or more distant parts of a
composition is quite inappreciable ; but the smaller the light,
the more is it localized, and though the light seen through a

UNIVERSITY

OF

ii2 Lecture VI L

window in reality comes from the sky, the smaller the open-
ing, the more are the conditions of the light reduced to those
of a candle placed at the aperture ; and those objects which
are near to it are more intensely illuminated than those which
are more distant, in inverse proportion to the square of their
distance ; and thus we get some parts of a composition
treated as lights, and others, though in the light, so scantily
illuminated that they melt gradually into the shade, and the
composition becomes less evenly distributed and less adapted
for mural decoration, though it becomes more pictorial,
sparkling, and picturesque.

Practically, nothing is more effective than a system of broad
shadow, which is not so dark as to destroy the unity of the
object, but at the same time dark enough to make the lights
luminous; the lights should be lowered as little as possible by
half tints, and the shadows kept free from too many reflections.
The background of objects treated in pale shadow may be
darker than both shadow and light ; but if the shadow is
dark, the ground had better be darker than the light, but
lighter than the shadow, otherwise the shadow will cling to
the ground. The great object of the mural painter, and indeed
of all painters, should be to exhibit the form clearly at first
sight ; there should be no hesitation or confusion in the
spectator's mind. The shadows should be as simple as
possible ; projecting irregular patches that cut too much and
too distractedly into the light should be avoided, and high
lights should be most sparingly used.

These seem to be the principal characteristics of the art of
Raphael. Each figure stands out clear, forcible, defined ; but
these qualities were not sufficient for Michael Angelo ; he re-
quired even a greater breadth, — an exhibition of the form of
every part of an object, a greater diffusion of light. Accord-
ingly we find that both in colour and chiaroscuro there are no
striking contrasts between his lights and shadows. The one
was blended imperceptibly into the other, and those parts that
were in shadow were light enough to exhibit all the modelling
of the form ; in fact, he went over the whole surface of his
figures exactly as a modeller would have done, and each left

Coloiir of Shadows. 1 1

his hand not only perfect in form, but as large as it could be.
It was not cut up into two parts, the light and the shade.
There was no striving after force, no focussing, all was bathed
in a broadly diffused majestic light. It is impossible to con-
ceive anything more appropriate at once for ideal art and
mural decoration, not only on moulded spandrils and panels,
but on the broad essential surfaces of walls or ceilings ; for
though there might be depth in the composition, the difference
in tone between the near and distant parts was not so great
as to destroy that even distribution which is architecturally
necessary. Focussing is essentially at variance with even
distribution, and it is therefore more pictorial than decorative.
Force is bringing shadow up to the light. Sparkle is concen-
trated light brought into direct contact with concentrated
dark, and is essentially a small quality.

The normal colour of shadows is yellow or orange, and the
reason why glaze and transparent colours are necessary in deep
shadowed pictures is that you can get a transparent pigment
very deep which yet retains this orange colour. If you attempt
to mix a tint in opaque colour, to match even so cool a pig-
ment as raw umber rubbed on transparently, you will find
that it is necessary to use intense yellows. The deeper the
tone of a picture the more necessary is it to have a glazed
surface, while opaque pigments render with greater propriety
the greyer shadows of mural decoration.

All things are singularly in harmony. On the one side we
have large, simple, broad contours — absence of detail — very
perfect distribution — shadows so light that they do not destroy
the unity of the figure, and yet sufficient to exhibit relief and
form — a dead surface which remains obviously a wall. On
the other hand we have lights focussed — shadows deeper, and
brought up in some parts with force to the lights — richer
colour — complexity of detail — less even distribution, (for some
parts of the composition are enhanced at the expense of
others) — a surface more shiny and less and less mural — and
generally less breadth of treatment, and a tendency to petti-
ness. The smaller the work the more are finish and detail
necessary; the larger, the broader and simpler should it be.

I

1 14 Lecture VII.

Brilliancy, depth of colour, force, and sparkle, are essenti-
ally smaller in character than what we may call the full even
roll of ideal art ; but we must not despise such qualities, they
are qualities of nature, qualities, too, which are so pregnant
with beauty, that when we contemplate a Venetian picture, or
one by Rubens or Rembrandt, we feel so impressed with their
force and splendour, that we are almost tempted to regard the
grander art as a little husky and monotonous ; but the truth
is, that each quality of art is beautiful in its proper place.

LECTURE VIII.

MATERIAL.

THE subject of my present lecture is material. First,
as the means or vehicle we use for the imitation
of Nature, or the expression of our ideas ; the
reasons for our selecting this for one purpose and that for
another; and lastly, how far design and work should be
influenced by the material in which it is executed. First,
as to drawing, we ought to think ourselves lucky in having
such materials as paper and pencils. They are admirably
adapted to our wants. In variety and texture a little
care in selection will give us everything we can desire ; and
<:are in such matters is well spent. The more minute the
work, the finer should be the texture of the paper, the
harder and more compact the pencil or chalk ; and this
applies to all materials. If your work is on a large scale,
a very fine appearance is detrimental to its effect ; it will
be apt to appear hard and tinny : it is almost impossible
, to avoid a small manner on a very smooth material, and we
can detect at a glance a painting on copper. Charcoal, chalk,
and pencil give us all we can want for large, medium, and
small drawings. The shine of pencil is a defect which is not
so objectionable in small drawings — which can readily be
held in such a direction that the reflections are avoided — as it
would be in larger works.

n6 Lecture VIII.

And here let me repeat what I have said about scale. The
more minute the work the more detail there should be in it.
A work by Meissonnier, if enlarged, would have too much, not
too little, detail. Observe the converse in all great work \
all men, whose specialite is detail, paint small pictures, while
ideal subjects are treated not only in a large manner, but on a
large scale ; partly because (as we have seen) all the qualities
of art which are in harmony with it can only be properly used
in mural decoration, and are intended to be seen from a dis-
tance, and partly because the coarser materials lend them-
selves easily to produce the required effect.

Always remember that large work is to be seen from a dis-
tance, and should look right at that distance.

If you draw or paint with your nose close to a large picture,,
though your work may appear right to you then, when you
step back from it, it is sure to be wrong. You will find you
have got all your shadows hard and meagre. A drawing of
a head the size of life should be as effective at a distance as
the head itself, or nearly so ; and in painting, unless v.you have
great experience, and know what you are about, you should
continually go to the same distance from your work that you
are from your model. In academies and crowded schools
large drawings should not be attempted, except, perhaps, as a
lesson to show the evils that are sure to result. In chalk draw-
ing your great object ought to be to acquire a rapid and
effective method of shading, which shall not be rotten. The
stippling method is, of course, too tedious for general use.
Julien's drawings from the antique are good in some respects,
but we could do better by copying some of the drawings of
the old masters. I believe a week devoted to this subject
would be well spent. Cross-hatching is unsatisfactory ; it gives
a woolly texture. A general tint laid on by parallel lines is
perhaps the best and simplest, but if the lines are too hard, or
too far apart, it is difficult to redeem it from flatness. It is
very important to define the edge of the shadow clearly, and
you will find it a very good plan always to lay in the edge
first firmly and clearly. The subsequent filling in will then be
easy.

Canvas and Panels. 117

But to return to materials. I have little to say about
painting beyond what I have already said about drawing.
The smaller the work, the finer the canvas, the pigments,
and the brushes. For fine work, a canvas prepared in the
modern way is excellent. What we want for medium-sized
and large easel pictures, or more accurately speaking, for
subjects painted on a large scale (for a head which filled
a canvas only 18 inches by 12 would obviously require a
totally different treatment to a space twenty times the size
filled with small figures), is a rough but uniform texture. But
this, simple as it appears, is difficult to get ; if the canvas is
too lightly primed the colour is apt to sink, and will require
frequent painting over before it bears out forcibly ; but if it is
primed fully, then the roughness of the texture is in a great
measure lost. And I cannot but think that this difficulty would
in some measure be obviated by priming the canvas at the
back. If we stand behind a thinly-primed and thinly-painted
canvas, the picture appears almost like a transparency. Now,
it is obvious that the light which passes through cannot be re-
flected ; and I believe distemper and fresco owe their brilliant
and luminous quality to their solidity, quite as much as to
the deadness of their surface. Transparent glazes create and
require a smoother surface than is necessary or desirable in
opaque pigments ; and when a surface is shiny, as is the case
with most pictures painted in transparent colours, the light
is, we may say, wasted in reflections, and the picture, which
can only be seen out of the line of reflection, is, therefore, low
in tone ; but, besides this, the light has to pass through a
transparent glaze twice before it reaches the eye, for it is re-
flected from the ground beneath. These facts account for the
extraordinary lowness of tone which even a slight glaze gives.

On account of their weight, expense, and liability to crack,
panels are now out of fashion ; but they have, at least, the ad-
vantage of solidity, and there is something very inviting in
their firmness, which seems almost to inspire a corresponding
firmness of touch, so that they may be used for larger pic-
tures than the smoothness of their surface would otherwise
warrant.

n8 Lecture VIII.

Distemper, owing to the deadnessof its surface, is admirably
adapted for mural painting, though it is apt to be hard and
chalky, and its shadows heavy or cold ; but its difficulty is
the chief obstacle to its use, a difficulty caused by its change
of colour in drying, and the opacity which prevents the draw-
ing or previous work showing through.

Fresco seems to combine every quality that is desirable in
mural decoration, except, unfortunately, in this country, per-
manence. But one cause of its failure in this respect, as well
as in some other artistic qualities, is that the surface has been
finished almost to a polish — a surface entirely out of character
with all the qualities of fresco. It is fresh, luminous, and
clean, without being chalky ; beside it an oil-picture seems
heavy and horny. It is more admirably adapted for rendering
all the greater qualities of ideal art than any other material,
and anyone who can detect and remedy the causes of its
decay will confer a benefit on art and the country.

Painting in ordinary oil-colours on the common plaster of
walls and ceiling is not sufficiently practised. It is quite
satisfactory, and quite sufficiently permanent. A process
called " Spirit Fresco," invented or adopted by Mr. Gambicr
Parry, promises most satisfactory results, and deserves to be
better known than it is. It is certainly a great desideratum
to have a method of painting directly on the wall. A canvas,
even if it could be perfectly strained, is liable to damp, cob-
webs behind it, &c. ; and on a ceiling a strained canvas is, of
course, impossible, as may be seen at Whitehall. For small
plaques, however, paper or canvas may be stuck on in the
most solid and permanent manner with white lead ; and the
advantages of being able to paint at an easel and see one's
work before' one instead of lying on one's back are not im-
probably shared by the spectator as well as the painter.

Mosaic is again coming into use, but its principles are not
sufficiently understood. There are two sorts of mosaic : in one
the subject is especially designed for the material, in the other
the mosaicist imitates a painting as accurately as the diffi-
culty of the material will allow.

The larger and coarser the tesserae the more is it necessary

Mosaic. 1 1 9

to make the design specially for them ; with minute tesserae
and a very prodigal outlay of time and money it is possible to
produce a copy which, at a little distance, will pass for an oil-
painting. Such are the mosaics in St. Peter's, while those at
Ravenna afford examples of the first.

The only advantage of the more finished work is that it is
permanent ; but this quality is obtained at an enormous price.
I ask, " Is it worth it ? " You get a permanent but neces-
sarily inferior copy of an oil-picture for ten times the money
the oil picture itself has already cost. Now, an oil-picture
with ordinary care will last 300 years. Is not that, in ninety-
nine cases out of a hundred, a great deal too long? I am no
advocate for permanence ; — it is only desirable with the finest
and rarest art. An existence of fifty years, or even less, is
quite long enough for the great majority of works of art. To
go to an enormous expense for the mere whim of obtaining a
permanent but indifferent copy of an indifferent picture seems
to me, I confess, a most lamentable waste of money.

With regard to the earlier, coarser, and more conventional
treatment, there is more to be said in favour of its revival. It
has an artistic value of its own, and can be used on the archi-
tecturally essential surfaces of walls and vaults, without in the
least impairing their obvious solidity. Indeed, partly from
the necessary severity of its treatment, and partly from the
tesserae being imbedded in the wall itself, it has of all mate-
rials the most perfect appearance of impacted solidity. The
coarser the tesserae, the more difficult is it to make an appro-
priate design which shall not be grotesque ; but, when made, its
execution is comparatively easy. The more conventional the
design the more appropriate will be the display of the bar-
baric splendour of gold and colour. A dead gold background
might, perhaps, be admissible in the more finished work, but
never that which glitters. To put mosaic in a wooden frame
is obviously absurd. It should be imbedded in the wall itself,
and its margins and mouldings, if any are shown, should be of
a material not less solid than stone.

Tiles are rapidly coming into fashion as a covering and
decoration for walls for butchers' and fishmongers' shops, for

I2O Lecture VIII.

refreshment rooms, railway stations and so forth. For the
dados in much frequented courts and corridors their use is
obvious. A mop or sponge will in a few minutes make the
surface perfectly clean and fresh, and in all respects as good as
new. For decoration their advantage is not so certain. They
are well adapted for panels and friezes of no great depth ; but
it is to be feared that the ease and cheapness with which a
show can be made by petty builders and decorators, who, as a
class, are not very famous for taste, will soon bring them into
disrepute. The seams of the tiles, their glazed surface, and
their too obvious appearance of a veneer, will prevent their
employment for the mural decoration of more extended
spaces.

Larger and more solid slabs, which can be made in shapes
the edges of which coincide with the principal lines of the
composition, may be used for the higher sorts of decoration.
The two large plaques by Yvon, at the end of the Keramic
Gallery, are manufactured in this way. Owing to their
solidity the general surface maintains its flatness, but if the
slabs are thin, and particularly if they are of irregular shape,
they are apt to curl up when fired, in which case their edges
do not coincide, and the effect, particularly in a side light, is
very disagreeable, — and it must be remembered that it is only
in a side light that a painting on a glazed surface can be pro-
perly seen. These difficulties have led to the adoption by
Messrs. Minton of an arrangement of small vitrified hexagons,
which are so accurately made that their edges exactly coincide.
A sufficient number of these to form a slab of moderate
dimensions are fimly joined together by a vitrified cement.
These slabs fit accurately into others, and thus form a surface
of any dimensions. Owing to its serrated edge the joint is
not detected, and in its general appearance the work has much
of the character and solidity of mosaic.

The great advantage these small hexagonal tesserae have
over tiles is that they adapt themselves without difficulty
to curved surfaces, which is an impossibility with tiles, owing
to the irregularity of their warping when fired ; and thus
they can come into use for vaults, domes, and domical

Sgraffito}? SiTr)I21

spandrils and apses — spaces, perhaps, more than any others
suitable for decoration.

The promoters of this material seem to me to lay too much
stress on its having the appearance and impasto of oil, and
pride themselves on being able to imitate qualities which are
out of place in mural decoration. As the material is essentially
mural, they would do well to confine their energies to the pro-
duction of mural qualities. The material will, I believe, be
found quite as suitable for these as it has already proved itself
to be for the lesser qualities of pictorial art.

Having thus obtained a solid uniform indestructible
material, which can be adapted to curved as well as flat
surfaces, it only remains to paint upon it with permanent
colours ; and these colours, it is asserted, are so little changed
by the fire, that an artist, wholly inexperienced in pot-painting,
will have no more difficulty in using them than the ordinary
oil colours on canvas. If this be so, we have the solution of all
our difficulties, and I can only express a hope that so valuable
an invention may become generally available to artists.

Hitherto the secrets of pot-painting have been so jealousy
guarded by their proprietors, that the art is entirely under
their control, and practically no one can paint in pot colours
unless he is in the employ and under the immediate direc-
tion of the manufacturer. I have no wish to depreciate the
chemical knowledge, the skill, or industry necessary to the
production of good glazes and pigments, or to grudge them
a proper remuneration ; but I believe the narrow-minded
jealousy with which these secrets are guarded is a mistaken
policy, and that if they were thrown open, not only would
there be a revival, among artists of eminence, of decorative
painting, much to the benefit of art and the enlargement of its
borders, but I believe that even the humblest branch of pot
manufacture would share in the interest and splendour which
would be given to its highest development.

Although Sgraffito, or Sgraffiatura, may, perhaps, be more
appropriately classed among architectural processes and
materials, it seems so adapted for use in interior as well as
exterior mural decoration, that I venture to mention it here.

122 Lecture VIII.

As the process is not usually known, I will briefly describe it.
What is called the " floating" coat of ordinary plaster, which
is usually three-quarters of an inch thick, having been applied
to the wall, a layer of black, or any dark-coloured plaster, is
then laid about a quarter of an inch thick, and above this
another layer much thinner and lighter in colour. Having pre-
pared a charcoal drawing of the figures or ornament you intend
to execute, you either trace it or print it on the wet plaster;
with a sharp knife you then cut through the upper layer of
plaster, and, scraping it away, expose the black wherever you
want it to appear. In this way you can execute in a very
effective manner any ornament or subject which can be
represented in two tints ; by using three layers more com-
plicated effects can be produced. Under the direction of Mr.
Cole, who is always anxious to revive the varied arts which
made Italy so glorious in the days of the Renaissance, I have
made many experiments in Sgraffito ; these may be seen on
the back of the New Science Schools at South Kensington. It
is a most fascinating process — cheap, effective, and, I believe,
durable. There is one modification of it which seems to me
to promise success. By laying a thicker outer coat we have
been able to carve it almost like a cameo. A frieze of amorini
so executed may be seen close to the ground ; and I cannot
help thinking that Sgraffito, and the many modifications of
which it is capable, are well worth the attention of decorative
artists and architects.

Having thus noticed the principal materials used for mural
decoration, it will be necessary, before we consider the variety
and profusion of material used in ornamental art generally, to
say a few words on the dogmas and assertions which are now
so popular. Should each material be treated in a manner
peculiar to itself? Should the material control the artist, or
the artist the material ? Is it wrong to imitate work in one ma-
terial in another material ? Now, there are no subjects on which
the law is laid down more positively than on this : all design is
to be in strict accordance with the material. But I presume
that even the most ardent advocates of "true principles"
would concede that a statue, whether in marble, bronze, wood,

Theories about Material. 12^

vJ

or terra-cotta, must necessarily be treated in the same way. I
do not mean in little details of hair, and so forth. One ma-
terial might be more difficult than another ; but in all the artist
would aim, and rightly aim, at the same object, wholly irre-
spective of the material, viz., the imitation of Nature. It
would be admitted that in this nothing is to be conceded to
the material; but in decorative art it is asserted that every de-
sign should exhibit undoubted marks of the material for which
it is intended. That a design ought to be in accordance with
the properties of the material is a proposition which would be
accepted by all. But then comes the question : would it be
possible to execute and use a design which was obviously at
variance with the properties of the material ? and if it is done,
and answers its purpose, is not that a proof that it is in
accordance with the properties of the material ? Take as an
extreme instance a projecting bracket from which we wished
to suspend a lamp. Would it be wrong to make such a thing
of stone ? and if so, why ? The answer will be, because it
would break. To which I reply, why need we trouble our
selves about a theory which condemns only the impossible ?

All art has to deal with appearances, alone. If a bracket
looks too frail for the weight it has to support, it is aesthetically
too thin, though practically it may be strong enough to sup-
port twenty times the weight. But the dogmas about material
are not put forth on these grounds ; " true principle " men are
not content with appearances, all must be real ; and if reality
and appearance do not coincide there must be falsehood
somewhere.

But to revert to our bracket. Supposing we could obtain
stone of remarkable tenacity, the more tenacious it was the
thinner and more elongated should we be able to make the
form of our bracket. But, it will be stated, you must not
take exceptional but general characteristics ; you should take
some characteristic which is peculiar to the material, and, in
short, exaggerate that to the exclusion of those characteristics
which it may possess in common with other materials. The
line of argument is this : — The characteristic, say, of iron is
malleability and ductilitv combined with strength and stiffness ;

124 Lecture VI I L

therefore it ought to be wrought, and all designs for it ought
obviously to show that it is wrought. To this I reply, that if its
qualities are so admirably adapted for its being wrought, in the
ordinary course of affairs it ze>z//be wrought. In the long run the
economies prevail, and uses are not thrown away. But when it
is argued that it is wrong to cast iron because its ductility and
malleability are not made use of to the fullest, then I say that
is also a question of use. If cast-iron is found to be useful and
economical, who are these philosophers, that we are to attend
to their veto ? Of course practical people do not attend to these
men at all, who, however, address themselves to artists ; and,
unfortunately, an exaggerated view of the necessities of ma-
terial threatens to limit the liberty and scope of decorative art.

If wrought-iron is to be used, let the artist make such a design
as the smith will delight to execute ; but if that should be too
dear, or many of the same pattern should be wanted, I cannot
myself see the sin of having them made of cast-iron, provided
they answer their purpose.

Again, blowing exhibits the quality of glass admirably, and
it is delightful to see the numberless beautiful forms that the
glass almost naturally assumes in the hands of a workman of
intelligence and taste ; but, because blown glass is beautiful,
is cast and cut glass to be condemned ? — cannot beautiful
forms and other qualities be exhibited by those methods as well ?
And if they answer their purpose, is not that enough ? Are we to
waste our time in condemningcows because theyare not horses ?

The assertion that terra-cotta ought to be used in small
pieces like bricks, because it is a sort of brick, and not in
large pieces that might be mistaken for stones, is an idle
assertion, and a mischievous one, for it would limit its profit-
ble use. If it fulfils the purpose for which it is wanted, what
does it signify whether it is like stone or like brick ? What
can it matter, whether a soft material becomes hard by artifi-
cial or natural processes ? We want a certain form — in one case
it is moulded, in the other cut ; for use or appearance the
result is the same. Why should we be troubled with plausible
theories, which puzzle the weak, and attempt to limit at once
our art and our use ? If a material is unfit for the use to which

Theories about Material. 1 2 5

it is applied it will not be used ; but if it is fit, it is ridiculous
to prove from " true principles " that it ought not to be used.
Take, for instance, a cornice. The line of argument is this :
— A cornice is a stone structure, and a deep cornice can only
be made of large stones. Terra-cotta is nothing more than
brick, and therefore ought to be small, and consequently is not
adapted for large cornices. I reply that terra-cotta can be and
is made in large pieces, and that cornices are made of it, and
that in every respect it fulfils its practical and artistic purpose.

Another very fashionable dogma is, that no design for one
material should be executed in another. Now that is a good,
sweeping, plausible dogma.

We will begin with the Greek temples. They were, at first,
obvious imitations of wooden structures, and the peculiarity of
Gothic is that it discarded square, massive forms for those
which imply flexure and ramification — qualities completely at
variance with those of stone. Yet "true principle" men are
almost invariably Goths. Such is the consistency of philoso-
phers ! Basket-work has in all ages been imitated in stone ;
forms of pottery were imitated in bronze; and styles and panels,
which are essentially wooden, are as commonly rendered in
stone, while in wood-work we find that the compliment is re-
turned, and not only cornices of an obviously stone construc-
tion, but the arch itself, which is essentially so, is over and
over again executed in wood ; and in ornamental art a fanciful
imitation of structures and other objects originally executed in
another material is one of its commonest phases. Are we, at
the mere dictation of critics, to condemn all these things ?

On the other hand, is there nothing in material ? As long
as the work is possible and useful, are we to take no notice
of the material in making a design ? Is the evasion or the
patient surmounting of the difficulties of a material a merit or
a defect in the work ? If works of art are praised for being in
accordance with the material, are not works elaborated in
spite of the material equally worthy of praise ? Have we no
definite rule to guide us in such matters as these ? There is
certainly none, and I hope there never will be in the sense in
which popular dogmas are now put forth.

126 Lecture VIII.

But though to such questions as these it is impossible, and
rightly impossible, to give categorical answers, my own sympa-
thies, in common with those of most artists of any education
or knowledge of ornament, are so decidely in favour of the
expression of the qualities of the material, rather than of the
skill of the artist, which would tend to obliterate them, that I
will briefly state what may fairly be urged on this side of the
question. In the first place, when we are judging of the com-
parative merits of two opposing principles, we may very well
speculate on the result of the complete predominance of one
or the other. Now, I think it necessarily follows that mono-
tonous uniformity in the ornamentation of every material, and
a general tendency to naturalism and finish, would result from
the complete triumph of skill ; whereas a variety, which could
not fail to be .both interesting and pleasing, would be the
result of the opposite principle — a principle which has a natural
leaning towards the Ideal Pole in our scale ; and all orna-
mental art, if a little inclined to be rough and barbaric, would
be more symmetrical, conventional, and severe. The consider-
ation of an instance, if it does not enable us to come to an
exact and definite conclusion, will at least put the conditions
of the problem into something like intelligible order. Let us,
for example, take woodcuts. ' Now, my own feeling about
woodcuts is that those are the best which have the essential
character of wood, and are most distinguishable from engrav-
ings in other materials. I prefer vigorous, even coarse work,
to a refinement which rivals the detail and minute finish of an
engraving on steel. But if I am shown a modern woodcut of
some rustic scene — perhaps after Birket Foster — I at onqe
admit its success, a sort of success which is altogether im-
possible in the older method. And at first it may seem a little
ungracious to say I like the old work better ; but the fact is,
there is necessarily something acquired and technical in our
tastes. If we regard it as a woodcut, all our preconceived
notions of what a woodcut should be affect our judgment'; but
if we regard it as a representation of a fact or scene, we frankly
take it for what it is worth, whether it is done o.n wood, steel,
or copper. If the object of the artist is purely imitative, we

Theories about Material. 127

do not take notice of the material in which he works ; but if
his object is to produce a good woodcut, a good majolica plate,
or a piece of goldsmith's work, then we cannot divest ourselves
of the associations which the knowledge of such arts naturally
has on our tastes.

The rudest work is necessarily the most materialistic (if I
may use the word in that sense). The rougher the tools and
the less his skill, the less is the workman able to subdue the
material to his will ; so that all barbaric ornament is necessarily
more in harmony with the material than that of an age more
mechanically dexterous. For this reason, also, all arts are
simpler at their beginning, and, so far, often better, than they
are at a later period, when a stern severity gives way to
elegance and finish, the result of better tools and workman-
ship, and perhaps not a little desire to show them off. But,
on the other hand, those whose sympathies lean towards
material will always be in bad company, for the ignorant and
unskilful will always be its loudest advocates.

The harmony between design and material is more generally
evident and satisfactory in ancient than in modern work, be-
cause the design was made and executed by the same man.
Modern designs are often vulgar or absurd, because they are
made by vulgar people who k'now nothing of work. When
artists are workmen, and workmen artists, if philosophers will
only let them alone, we shall again have work almost unex-
ceptionable in taste and style.

To some extent I sympathize writh those who preach so
much about material. But they set about an argument pretty
much as a rude Norman would have carved out a capital with
an axe; and I object to their dogmas because they are too
superficial, and they are too one-sided to influence any but
the thoughtless and prejudiced; while, as an indictment against
those who work on an opposite principle, they will not hold
water for a moment. It is impossible to lay down any rigid
law about material. State any law you choose ; I will under-
take to find some object in the Museum executed in exact
opposition to your law which you will at once admit is a
praise-compelling success. A broad and liberal mind can

128 Lecture VI1L

alone appreciate art ; narrow dogmas are the watchwords of
cliques and the cause of most of the art absurdities of the day.

There is another phase of this subject which is a very
favourite one with critics, and that is the deceptions of art. The
high moral tone assumed against all imitations is so plausible
that many are deceived by it. They say everything should
appear to be exactly what it is. I think it generally does
that without the aid of critics. All stucco and cement is con-
demned because it is like stone, or, as the critics say, pretends
to be stone. I have even heard paint condemned because it
hides the material underneath, and I believe a certain school
would condemn a man's skin, and would infinitely prefer to
see the bloody muscles bare.

Let us, for argument's sake, take the instance of veneering,
or, what is even worse, gilding. If there is wickedness any-
where, surely it is here. Can any subterfuge be more base
than this ? By a trumpery, almost impalpable coating, to
make mere plaster pass for pure gold ! It is no doubt always
as well to attribute the worst possible motives to everybody ;
but I venture, nevertheless, to ask, is any deception intended ?
Is it not just possible that these pretentious impostors may
admire the brilliant quality of the surface, and think it no sin
to enjoy it at a less price than solid gold ? They might even
be willing to inform their friends that their picture-frames
were not entirely of solid gold. Would it be possible for
them in this way to avoid the condemnation of the critics,
or is it really more moral to eat butter in lumps than to
spread it thin ?

All these questions about the deceptions of art may afford
subjects for the speculations of casuists, but have nothing
whatever to do with art, which, as I have said over and over
again, has to deal with appearances alone.

If you wish to succeed as an artist, waste no time in theories.
The interests of the artist and the critic are diametrically
opposed ; to the artist it is an advantage to limit the con-
sideration of art to art alone, while the more the critic can
deviate into other fields, the more he has to write about.
Hence all this exaggerated morality. Study not the words

Common-sense View. 129

of critics, but the works of the old masters — these alone will
enable you to form a sound, broad, and liberal judgment.
There is good in all styles : use principles for your own
guidance, not to condemn others. Talk little, do much, and
you will acquire, by work and observation, a taste and power
which will enable you to form a style of your own, free from
an exaggerated regard for material on one hand, or from a
reckless bravura of execution on the other. Always mistrust
those who prove any particular art is wrong ; and when an
artist has a theory, you may be pretty sure it is only a cloak
for his own deficiencies. Artists are particularly ingenious in
this sort of self-deception ; but nothing is a greater impediment
in the race for true excellence than this. Leave them to their
own ideas, and beat them.

ADDRESS AT THE CONCLUSION
OF THE SESSION.

AS we have just concluded our Session,1 it will not be
out of place to sum up the progress that has been
made, to note such defects as may have been de-
tected, and to caution you against some misapprehensions
which, not unnaturally, may have arisen. And, first, I have
again to point out the want of intellectual effort. It is not
that you are unwilling to work, but that your energy wanes ;
you lapse into indifference and idle imitation. If you really
understood the enormous value, during the whole of your
future career, of accurate, definite, exact knowledge, and how
valuable an influence on character as well as intellect the
discipline of learning would have, you would grudge neither
the time nor the effort necessary to acquire it. That know-
ledge is power is especially true in art.

Be not disheartened when you compare your rough drawings
with the more finished productions of an imitative system.
Drawings must be looked upon as aids to knowledge alone :
the value of the drawings themselves is nothing. In a given
time you might make two imitative finished drawings, or fifty
rougher sketches, from life or memory. The first might,

1 The session included lectures on the Human Figure, Architecture,
a.nd Ornament.

Neglect of Nature. 131

perhaps, be worth three shillings, the latter two shillings and
sixpence : but even if the sketches have failed to impress as
many facts on your memory as I could wish, they afford a
larger experience and more suggestions for the action of the
figure than could possibly be the case if your time had been
spent on laborious and mechanical strippling. We must, how-
ever, guard against a not improbable failing — a habit of
leaving works incomplete. In our attempt to acquire know-
ledge, we must not neglect that power of imitative finish, and
that facility of execution, which are actually necessary to
success in art. I would most strongly recommend you always
to have some drawing from the antique, or a painting of " still
life," which you can take up at odd times. This is a matter
of the highest importance, not only to your progress in execu-
tion, but as an economy of time. The drawing is, in this
respect, of more use than the painting, for you can take it up
for ten minutes; while it is hardly worth while to set your
palette for a shorter time than an hour.

We do not sufficiently study from nature : we ought to
draw and study vegetable forms, shells, fishes, birds, beasts.
A continual use of your note-book should enable you to lay
up an inexhaustible store of artistic materials and suggestions.
We ought to know perfectly the general construction of at
lest all these common varieties of animals ; we ought to
know the anatomy and general arrangement of the feathers
of birds, and the leading forms of fishes ; — in this respect not
only the teaching, but the materials of the schools, is deficient,
The leading types of shells, insects, and the wonders of the
miscroscope, furnish inexhaustible but too much neglected
suggestions to the decorative artist.

Then, again, the study of the arrangement of colour o£
natural objects is almost entirely ignored ; yet how pregnant
would it be with the most valuable and original suggestions.
There is hardly anything in nature that is not perfect in
colour. A dead sparrow would enable you to arrange the
marquetrie of a cabinet with faultless harmony. Then, again,
the varied tints of any colour in light, shade, and half-tint are
always harmonious. The gradations of cplo^ny^pwjer, if

°

OF THE

OTNIVERSITY

132 Concluding A ddrcss.

properly studied, would teach a lady to dress with a taste that
would be the envy of her sex. That dress is not, more than
it is, the study and recognised province of an artist, is a
matter of wonder. Surely a beautiful woman, beautifully
dressed, is as much worth seeing as a decorated palace.

The study of drapery will form another important branch
of your education. I have already pointed out rriany of its
leading principles and lines ; but these are hardly more
complex, varied, and interesting than its colour and texture.
Drapery adds mass, variety, and splendour to the figure ;
without its aid two-thirds of art would have been impossible.
What would Veronese or Rubens be without silk and satin ?

Painting should be studied in an exact and systematic, not
mere imitative, method. It would, for instance, be a most
interesting and instructive lesson to take a bust, and artificially
define its shadows from a given point ; let those shadows
be painted brown ; then shift the imaginary light, and again
define the shadow, and paint the interval between the two
shadow lines grey. Again shift the lift, and paint the
interval red, and so on to the final yellow high lights. Of
course, I do not mean that this should be done on the bust,
but on an accurate drawing of the bust on which the different
shadow lines were clearly defined. A study of this sort would
explain the rationale of shadow and colour ; it would show that
colour was principally dependent on the angle of incidence of
the light. It would give you the power of putting down the
shadow, half tint, local colour, and high light, broadly and
simply. It would enable you fully to appreciate the fact
that the art of good colour is keeping the colours distinct ;
when mixed they are little better than mud.

These are subjects that we have as yet hardly entered
upon, but which will afford occupation for years ; and I may
well feel some dismay when I think how short the time is in
which I am expected to teach them. But you must look
upon my teaching rather as suggestions for future study than
as its accomplishment.

I will now briefly touch on a misapprehension that is not
unlikely to have occurred to you. It may perhaps be thought

Defence of Technical Teaching. 133

that in my endeavours to teach the science of art, and, as far
as I can, to formulate the phenomena of nature, I am inclined
to neglect its infinite variety, and the individuality of its
detail ; that I exalt technicalities at the expense of subject
and expression ; in short, that I consider the body rather than
the soul of art. But the least consideration would show how
erroneous such an estimate must be. I have fully pointed
out, by means of the Scale of Art, that all the principles and
technicalities, which are essential at the Decorative and Ideal
pole, may gradually be relaxed as we approach the opposite
one of Imitation and Subject ; and that, as we are engaged in
the study of ornament, these principles are to us especially
necessary ; but, besides this, it is the science of art alone that
it is possible to teach. It is the language of art, but it is not
possible to teach people what to say. It is not unlikely that
those who have little may become wordy, but that is no fault
of the master who has taught them grammar, but comes from
the paucity of their ideas. Neverthless, as from constantly
dwelling on principles their value may appear exaggerated, it
may not be out of place for me to say, that nothing is so
entirely contrary to my views of art as to hold light the more
subtle and spiritual qualities of expression and nature ; and I
will say a few words on the comparative value of expression^
form, colour, detail and finish.

Expression is the very soul of art. First, the expression of
action, which is even more important and impressive than the
expression of the face. A picture, though it may be splendid
in colour and force, if it fails in expression, how tame and
insipid it is ! How accurately does an attitude express the
whole spirit and intention of the man ! how clearly is every
shade of emotion expressed and detected ! We could tell at a
glance whether he is abjectly crouching, earnestly imploring,
manfully interceding, devoutly praying ; differences which we
all detect with the most unerring accuracy are, in reality, so
minute that it is almost impossible to define or describe them.
As an instance of the quickness of our sight, I may mention
the almost instantaneous perception of the slight change in
the centre of gravity when any one intends to pass on this or

134 Concluding A ddress.

that side; or the readiness with which we detect the least
unsteadiness in the walk, and conclude a man is drunk ; and
how we at once see if a person is at all odd or mentally weak ;
and yet these deviations from ordinary action could hardly be
measured with the callipers.

It is impossible to teach the subtleties of expression ; if you
have the faculty of putting yourself in the place of any of the
actors in a scene — if you vividly realize the character, you
will naturally put yourself in the proper attitude. It is not
necessary to do so before a glass, though that is useful : the
mere fact of feeling and knowing the character will influence
your work. Draw small sketches over and over again, till you
have succeeded in putting down a few lines that convey to you
your original idea. This is the most essential thing in art ;
but, with our present knowledge, it is impossible to teach it.
And the same with the expression of the countenance. We
can, indeed, prescribe a few coarse receipts for your general
guidance ; but how subtle, how impossible to define is the
quivering lip of St. Catherine — the slightest deviation of line
would entirely spoil it. How can we measure, explain, or
define the tender earnestness, the imploring look of that lovely
face in Millais' " Huguenots," or the divine sorrow of Christ in
Raphael's " Agony in the Garden," or the ecstatic and rapt
devotion of a saint by Francia, which I saw in a window in
the Borghese Palace at Rome ?

If you have deep earnest feeling, you may be able to imbue
others with it, through your work. Without it you can never
do so, however skilful you may be in technicalities. Yet
technicalities are not to be despised ; the instances I have
given owe at least some of their effect to the perfection with
which the heads are rendered.

Nevertheless, such is the force of strong feeling, that it
sometimes makes even the ignorant eloquent ; and so in art,
particularly in early art, how devout are the saints, how
spiritual the angels ! How intense is the pathos of the tragic
scene of the " Massacre of the Innocents," in such a panel as
that on the pulpit by Pisano ! Grotesque as are some of the
faces, quaint the actions, meagre and faulty the forms (the

Character. 135

limbs looking as if pared with a knife), we are carried away
by the direct earnestness with which this dreadful tragedy is
told ; and we cannot look on this conglomeration of struggling
figures without the deepest emotion.

Some of the effect of early art, and of early mosaics in
particular, is not, however, to be set down entirely to expression.
The solemnity of their position and light, their obvious anti-
quity, their historic interest, their severity, and the great scope
left to the imagination, combine to put us in the proper frame
of mind to receive the best impressions ; and if we add to all
these influences the all-powerful one of solemn music, it is not
to be wondered at that too much credit is often given to early
Christian art. How surprised and disappointed we often are
to see again, after a long interval, works which before stirred
our very souls. Their former effect was owing, in a great
measure, no doubt, to our own imagination.

It is only fair to ourselves and the artists to endeavour to
derive the best impressions from their work. It is wise to see
pictures alone, and on no account to see many pictures at
one time.

Having touched on the supreme interest of expression in
action and in the countenance, I will draw your attention to
the kindred subject of character.

The seizing and rendering those salient points which com-
bine to give character is an invaluable faculty. It is not so
much the intentional exaggeration of some details, and the
suppression of the more commonplace ones, as it is that the
artist feels and identifies himself, as it were, with the character
before him ; and so renders it directly. He perceives the
whole thing, and that all its incidents and details are in
harmony, and combine to express one character, and is thus
able to give the true characteristic appearance of figures,
portraits, landscape, the sea, or buildings ; and this, in all our
work, should be our object. If we paint a portrait, we should
endeavour to comprehend the whole character of the man ; if
a landscape, we should give its general impression ; if a day,
its gloom or brightness, or the hurried impetuosity of a storm,
or the glow of evening, or the solemn stillness of twilight. It

136 Concluding Address.

is true that every detail helps to render this general impres-
sion ; but the mere study of detail will never enable us to
realize the scene.

Turner, of all artists, is in this respect, as in many others,
the greatest. The effect of his pictures is certainly not owing
to the careful rendering of detail, for it is suggested rather
than given ; and yet he has so completely comprehended the
character of many of his scenes, that they leave on us all the
impression of Nature itself. It is impossible to pass an hour
in the Turner room here without feeling that he is the greatest
of Nature's interpreters ; but I would remind you that he did
not despise the science of art. He studied works, now called
by our philosophers artificial and obsolete, with the greatest
assiduity, and thus he acquired that artistic power which
enabled him to strike into new and original paths. What a
lesson is this to us !

Another aspect of art, which is too little considered by
modern critics, is the character and individuality of the artist
himself, which induces him to seize on those aspects of nature
which are in harmony with his own temperament ; and so an
impetuous man will best paint stormy scenes, the quiet recluse
the sweet influence of the evening, the happy jovial man will
revel in the broad daylight of the summer, the devout will
paint saints and martyrs. Vandyke had all the feelings and
sympathies of a courtier and a gentleman, and so was able to
give that high-bred air of dignity and grace to his cavaliers
and ladies. The more robust Rubens gave a fuller and more
pompous presence to his sitters. The elegant and stately
Venetians combined dignity and splendour. The divine
Raphael gave touching pathos and the sweetness of feminine
beauty, manly dignity and the deepest devotion. To Michael
Angelo alone was given the expression of stern solemn power.

Another quality of art, hardly inferior to expression, is
Form; and this is, from its nature, essentially a learned
faculty. I do not mean the mere rendering of any form you
may happen to have before you, but a comprehension of the
beauty and dignity of fine form per se, which produces in an
artist the same elevating and ennobling sensation that fine

Colour. 1 3 7

music does in those who have a feeling for it. This taste or
feeling is necessarily peculiar to the artistic faculty ; it is an
acquired taste, and is, I am sorry to say, in the present day,
very generally dormant. Many modern criticisms of Michael
Angelo could only be possible to those as devoid of this
sense, as men born deaf are of music.

Fine form is firm without being angular, round without
being effeminate or formless, broad without being empty. The
detail of it is marked without being obtrusive. Mass leads to
mass in harmonious sequence, while their contours from every
point of view compose a fine outline. The finest art is that
which treats a figure or a limb as one beautifully-shaped mass.

Similar observations apply equally to Colour. The highest
conception of colour is that which embraces the whole picture.
General colour should take precedence of local brilliance;
fine colour is warm without being hot or foxy; grey and
pearly without being cold ; brilliant without being gaudy; firm
without being heavy.

The man who can paint the half-tones of a face, though
they may be nothing more than black and white and raw amber,
is a greater artist than he that can paint brilliant-coloured dra-
peries. But there is reason to fear that this truth is just now
likely to be exaggerated. The absence of positive colour is
already looked upon in some cliques as a sure sign of excel-
lence ; and our art has a tendency to become as dry, husky,
and dead, as before it was sloppy, stainy, and gay. If an artist
wishes to be considered to have an eye for colour, he must
take good care to restrain any natural inclination he may have
towards the obsolete vulgarity of Venetian splendour ; and
critics perceive the most subtle harmonies in pictures which,
to ordinary mortals, appear to be painted in whitewash and mud.

Knowledge of Detail is essential, but any exhibition of it is
bad in art. The great lesson we have to learn in all things is
simplicity. It seems a strange thing that only the most pro-
found can be truly simple ; but so it is. We may trace all our
artistic troubles and failings, whether in ornament or imitation,
to the want of it. The rendering of mere detail, though now
so much vaunted, holds but a low place in art.

138 Concluding Address.

Last in merit among artistic qualities comes Finish.

Finish is of two sorts : the finish which leaves nothing
wanting in the representation of nature, and the finish of the
surface of the painting itself; the latter a quality of no value
whatever, but, nevertheless, one to which the fashion of the
day obliges qualities far higher too often to be sacrificed. It
is oftener an evil than a good.

Of the more legitimate finish we should strive to be capable.
The want of it will often prevent the higher qualities of your
work receiving the notice their merit deserves, and you should
always endeavour to turn out everything from your hand as
perfect, as finished, and as forcible as possible.

The value of originality can hardly be exaggerated, but, like
riches, it may almost be said to be the root of all evil. There
is nothing connected with art so misunderstood as originality.
How often do we hear even educated men talk of a new style of
architecture as some day to be suddenly invented by a genius.
The study of the history of architecture and art will dispel this
illusion. The Darwinian theory, whether true or not in nature,
is certainly true in art. Variation and improvement is a de-
velopment by selection of what has gone before ; every step in
art is a natural, reasonable, almost to be expected emanation.

If we study any branch of natural history, we shall see
what infinite variety is the result of minute changes of detail.
Plants or animals, however dissimilar from each other, have
rudiments or vestiges of construction which show their com-
mon origin. The different forms of leaves may be traced to
one prototype ; while flowers, and even fruit, are modifications
of leaves. The fore-leg of a quadruped, the wing of a bird,
and the fin of a fish are all obviously the same ; and, judged
by the popular notion of originality, no one is so obviously
open to the charge of want of it as the Creator of the Uni-
verse. Critics are always fearless and impartial ; I wish they
would give Art a holiday, and devote their attention to this sub-
ject. They would find a great deal in Nature which, unluckily
for Nature, does not coincide with their preconceived notion ;
they would find little originality in their sense of the word,
but I hardly think they would complain of want of variety.

Originality. 139

If artists would take a common-sense view of originality,
they would not be haunted with vain regrets, but would work
steadily at their profession, confident that if they had origi-
nality they were taking the best means to develop it. It is, of
course, easy enough to be original, in the sense of doing some-
thing no one has ever done before. If you took six years to
paint a lady-bird on the rim of a new flower- pot, you would pro-
bably produce an original work ; and in ornament originality
is, unluckily, easier. There is no particular harm in trying to
do something original ; but, if you will take my advice, you
will be very suspicious of the result. It is probably not ori-
ginal at all in the sense that no one ever thought of it before,
but it has been rejected as bad. It would be a more just
cause of elation if you had discovered for yourself some com-
bination as old as the hills.

A man of knowledge and refined taste will be less original
than one who does not so completely feel the beauty of the
old ; for he will say, " If my work is not better than the old,
why should I put it forth ?" and his fastidiousness and modesty
may be so excessive as to paralyze his action ; but the fame
from the coarse and ugly originality of the present day will
be short-lived, and in the long run, works of art will always be
ranked in the true order of their merit.

A survey of the whole domain of Nature will reveal re-
gions unoccupied by art, some impossible, some difficult ; but
some that will reward the enterprising with fame. Depend
upon it, these prizes will fall neither to the ignorant, the un-
skilful, nor the vain. Let it be your ambition to do good, \
rather than original, work, and your work will be more ori- \
ginal than if you had striven to make it so ; for you will have
developed the power which is alone capable of grasping those
aspects of Nature which you may be the first to discover and
comprehend. It is of little use finding new countries, if you
are too feeble to take possession ; but the fact is, that the
eyes of the feeble are as weak as their hands, and in per-
ception, as well as in conception and execution, it is only the
great who can be original.

DESCRIPTION OF THE DIAGRAMS.

WHEN the lecturer descends from the rostrum to draw
on the black board, or to trace with a stick the
characteristic lines of his ready-made diagrams, he
lays aside something of his formality; he no longer thinks it
necessary to adhere to the strict line of his argument; there
is a freshness and freedom in his remarks often more instructive
as well as more pleasing than a set discourse ; for the laboured
conclusions of ordered thought, if too concisely put, are hardly less
difficult to comprehend than to state. Books should be read with
the same care that they are written ; and I fear we must conclude
that lectures are often wasted on an audience which is too idle to
listen with attention, or too slow to grasp ideas unless they are
repeated again and again, turned this way and that, and exhibited in
every possible phase. My own lectures are, I fear, hardly open to
the charge of being too ordered, or too concise ; but the reader will
perhaps pardon me if in these explanations I sometimes deviate
from my subject, or repeat and amplify what I have already stated
more shortly in the text.

These diagrams do not pretend to be anything more than miniatures
of such drawings as are done on a black board to illustrate and
explain a lecture; it is hoped that they will sufficiently serve this
purpose, but on no account should they be taken as examples ; these
must be sought for in nature, and in the works of great men, by the
student himself.

Almost all the plates refer to Composition of Line, a subject which
is either ignored altogether, or assumed to be known, and is there-
fore never taught systematically. The ill-defined generalities of the

142 Description of the Diagrams.

usual lectures on Composition leave the student about as wise as he
was before, and what he ought to grasp as a principle seldom becomes
in his mind anything more than a very vague sort of intuition, while
many an artist finds it prudent to deny the existence of a science,
which takes not only time and trouble to acquire, but would incon-
veniently expose deficiencies in his own work. There are, however,
one or two objections which I may do well to anticipate. It maybe
urged that many interesting and beautiful pictures exhibit no trace of
" Composition of Line," while the doctrine was wholly unknown to
the great majority of modern and many of the old artists. The latter
objection I have already alluded to. It involves a consideration of
the comparative value of intuition and instruction — of spontaneous
and eclectic art. Few practical artists have, I suspect, ever formu-
lated the principles on which they work ; but these principles are
none the less true because they have adopted them intuitively ; — nay,
is not this rather a proof of their truth ? though it is far from being
a proof of the expediency of teaching principles dogmatically which
would be followed naturally without any teaching at all. We have
here in art the same sort of dilemma that occurs in religion with
fegard to faith. Is it not a positive evil to demonstrate the truth of
facts which were before accepted on faith ? Would not this be a
transfer of the process from the emotional and meritorious to the
intellectual and inevitable, and therefore in no sense meritorious
department of human nature ? And so in a religious point of view
the man would be the loser by the change. These are questions on
which I have never been able to come to any conclusion, and so I
will pass on to the first objection. I readily admit the facts. Hun-
dreds of pictures in which the most careful tests will fail to discover
the smallest trace of science are nevertheless not only interesting but
often beautiful. The interest no doubt in the great majority of cases
consists in the choice of a subject which cannot fail to be interesting,
though it be told clumsily ; but I also admit that a picture may be
beautiful without being composed on any known laws. If I had
said there was no beauty which did not conform to the few principles
I have stated, this would be a valid objection to their necessity, and
even to their adoption. Let those who like to work without them do
so. They may say, and I do not wish to dispute the point, " If they
are true principles, and we are born-artists, we have already adopted
them intuitively ; if we are not born-artists it does not much matter
what we do; we prefer to go on as before, without any of your

Description of the Diagrams. 143

* Even Distribution/ ' Composition of Line,' and such like receipts
for making pictures; we would rather not make pictures in this
artificial manner." My answer to this is, " Don't. No one wants
you to do so. Go your own way." I claim no more than "this :
that these principles, " Composition of Line " among them, are
discernible, not only in pure ornament, but in most of the finest
pictures in the world, and also in the works of Nature herself.
I believe (if teaching is good at all) that to point out these
principles is a very useful, if not a necessary, part of the education
of artists. That works may have merits quite independent of
any compliance with these laws I am the last to deny, but these
merits in no way depend on the absence of the qualities I advocate —
qualities which I maintain are necessary only in those works which
approach the ideal and ornamental note in the scale of art (see
diagram, page 29). But I would remind those who object to prin-
ciples on the ground that it is not only possible to do without them,
but that many fine pictures have been painted almost in defiance of
the very rules I advocate, that the same may be said of perspective,
anatomy, colour, or any other science connected with art. A man
may be wholly ignorant of perspective and yet be able to tell a story
very pathetically ; but the truth of perspective as a science must be
admitted by all, while few would deny its necessity, fewer still its use
in art. Errors in perspective may not appreciably detract from the
pathos of a picture, but no one would maintain that they enhanced it.
The necessity of perspective varies according to the subject; in
architectural subjects it is paramount; in a group of figures it will be
an indispensable aid in giving each its proper place on the ground plan ;
in landscapes an artist can get on very well without it : and so " Com-
position of Line," although of more universal use than perspective,
might be dispensed with altogether in those pictures which were merely
imitative, or owed their interest to qualities which were not essentially
pictorial. To those who object to principles on the ground that they
are artificial receipts for making pictures, I would ask why art is in this
respect to be considered different to every other science, trade, or busi-
ness in the world? Because there is some part of art which cannot be
taught, are we to despise teaching in that which can ? We all know
that the mere acquirement of the rules of prosody will never make a
poet ; but was a true poet ever known to despise such things, or
to scorn instruction as artificial? Does an architect venture to
break laws which he might plead were entirely conventional ? Does

144

Description of the Diagrams.

a cabinet-maker despise the rules of his craft? But the modern,
professors of the most difficult art in the world are not only content
to blunder along in the dark, but obstinately adhere to the notion
that there is a positive merit in technical ignorance. Some cooks
object to weigh out their ingredients. It is, they think, a much
grander, as well as an easier thing to work by " rule of thumb ;" but
I generally notice that they make very indifferent puddings.

€g,SE L1BR^>\
OF THE \

CVERSITT)
OF ^X

OF THE

tJNIVERSITY

( J45 )

PLATE I.

ANTHEMIONS are the simplest expression of the law of
radiation. The enclosing line gives compactness, and
prevents any appearance of raggedness — a very important
matter in art. The sensitive manner in which the lobes of the
anthemiiim have a tendency to combine with this line affords an in-
teresting example of the natural composition of curves. Note also
the rhythmical harmony between the volutes which form the ends of
the containing outline, and the lobes which conform themselves as
far as they can to the law of the volute, as well as to that of radiation.
Fig. 3 shows more plainly the tendency of curves to meet and melt
into each other, where they are back-to-back as at a, or bend in the
same direction, as at b.

a a a are tangential, and, if prolonged, will cut the larger circuit of
the volute at right angles ; this is a very general rule in ornament : if
a discord is necessary, do it in the boldest, shortest and most com-
plete manner. So done, it can hardly be said to be a discord. Snch
lines have also an artistic value of their own in binding together a
composition and making it compact and firm, for lines may convey
the impression of being too easily undone and therefore weak, in the
same way that wire or iron work which was made up of a too frequent
repetition of volutes would be actually as well as aesthetically weak for
want of cross braces and ties. Ornament should be more than a mere
assemblage of objects, even when they compose well in line ; it should
be firmly and compactly constructed ; it should have an aesthetic
strength ; we should never feel that it would all tumble to pieces if the
enclosing mouldings were removed. The common flowing scroll-work
made up of volutes of foliage turning alternately this way and that
will do very well where it apparently rests on a horizontal moulding or
ledge, but in a perpendicular panel occasional ties would be absolutely
necessary.

In a composition of volutes and curves it is not only necessary to
have the minor curves tangential to the leading lines of the volutes,

146 Plate 11.

but the points of the foliage of which such compositions are usually
made should also lie in a line which is tangential to a dominant line.
A careful study of some good example and a little practice will soon
initiate the student in the mysteries of tangential composition.

I need hardly say that curves are intimately connected with pro-
portion.

The effect of perspective is worthy of more attention than it gene-
rally receives ; it produces apparent radiation and rhythm in strata
which are in reality almost parallel. The composition of line in
clouds is almost entirely owing to perspective.

The apparent radiation of the lines in architecture caused by per-
spective is not without pictorial value, but the radiation of straight
lines has neither the subtlety nor beauty of the radiation of curves ; the
spokes of a wheel, for instance, have little of that beauty which we all
instantly detect in the feathers of a wing, while the beauty of form
about the pivot of a fan which combines in so remarkable a way the
qualities of rays and volutes, is in reality the beauty of curves, for,
although it is constructed of straight lines, owing to their being
eccentric they lap over each other and form in every aspect a curve
of the most varied character. There is much of this sort of subtle
beauty in the arrangement of the leaves on a stalk ; when viewed
directly from above the leaves appear like a rosette radiating from a
central axis, but if we view the composition somewhat obliquely we
shall perceive a note of a higher harmony.

But on this subject I must refer the student to Vols iv. and v. of
" Modern Painters." Mr. Ruskin there treats of the composition of
Line in Rocks, Clouds, Leaves, and other natural objects, in a way
that makes one more than ever regret that he does not direct his
wonderful powers of analysis and description to the Human Figure.

PLATE II.

THE constant recurrence of the same leading lines in antique
figures is evidence, I think, in favour of the Composition
of Line being known to the ancients. These lines, it is
true, occur in nature as well as art, and if the artist could always
have found a model completely to accord with his conception (a
thing exceedingly improbable) his work would no doubt equally
exhibit them ; but I hardly think mere imitation would have given the

Plate II. 147

power then, any more than it does now, to produce either the quality
or quantity of work which, after the vicissitudes of two thousand
years, is even yet extant.

In more important statues, a constant recourse to nature, and a
comparison of numerous models, was no doubt the rule ; but in the
multitude of small bronzes which must almost have come imder the
category of " articles of commerce," the setting out of the leading
lines, as well as the proportions of the figure, was, I suspect, a matter
of formulas — formulas derived from the experience of ages, and
probably known only to the craft.

The most important Composition of Line in the human body is the
continuation of the line of the back along the crest of the ilium ; and
this is seen not only in profile but in the full view as well (Figs, i, 2, 3).
It is very remarkable how many of these instances of composition are
to be detected not in one or two views only, but continue to be trace-
able as we turn the figure gradually round. The student would do
well to get some statuette which is not too large to be held in the
hand and turned about in every direction : he will learn more in this
way than he ever will from living models, who as a rule are far from
graceful either in form or action ; they take no exercise, and are
flaccid, mean and awkward.1 When viewed in profile, the outline-
of the front of the body, from the pit of the neck down to the
great toe, lies in one continuous graceful sweep. Fig. 3. It is
hardly necessary for me to say that this and all other lines of compo-
sition are made of many overlapping contours, some more prominent
than others, but all lying in one general direction. A figure drawn in
graceful sweeps, and nothing more, would be a boneless, nerveless,
worthless thing. Figs. 4 and 5 explain themselves. At the right
.armpit of Fig. 6 may be seen an instance of radiation of lines, but this
is not often visible except in violent action ; then it is obvious. I do
not know what the critics who condemn Michael Angelo would say if
they saw a few strong men struggling together ; they would be deeply
shocked at their extravagant action, and their too " Academic " display

* The game of football is most interesting to an artist ; he may there see young
men in the most vigorous action ; and though they are dressed in thick jerseys and
drawers, we can see enough to give us a contempt for the models we draw from
in studios. Composition of Line in repose, as well as in vigorous action, is more
conspicuous than I could have believed without seeing it. This athletic game
gives us a very lively idea of the ancient contests ; and with thinner dress, or,
better still, no dress at all, would be everything an artist could desire for the stud}
.of the human figure in action;

148 Plate III.

of anatomy. It is to be feared that the only remedy for this vulgar
vigour is the painful operation of emasculation.

The lower part of the back and side — or, in other words, the region
between the blade-bone and the spine of the ilium — is replete with
instances of the composition of curves which seem to wrap round and
enclose the waist. A comparison of many living models with Michael
Angelo's Torso induces me to think that Art has here in one respect
attempted to improve upon Nature by the introduction in a somewhat
vacant space of a muscle lying in the direction of the ribs ; for this
muscle, whiclris too large to be merely the indication of a rib, there
is, as far as I know, no excuse in anatomy ; but regarded as composing
and uniting the lines of the back and side, it is so satisfactory, that
though I have never yet done so, I confidently anticipate finding it in
some fine example in Nature — not of course as a distinct muscle, but
as a transverse lobe in the latissimus dorsi.

PLATE III.

ART, viewed in its historical progress, exhibits many of the
phases through which each individual artist successively
passes j freedom of line is one of his latest acquirements ;
and so we find that the flow of line in the figure, more especially
in some views of the arm, was not fully realized till we come to
the time of Parmegiano, or even later. The line of Rubens or
Vandyke is pre-eminently a painter's line. In saying this I do,
not mean to imply that there is no warrant for it in Nature — far from
it ; I know models who invariably recall their peculiarities. A
painter's line may very properly be more free than a sculptor's, but
it does not necessarily follow that it is artistically incorrect. Com-
pare the picture of the Dead Christ by Raphael, now in the Borghese-
Palace at Rome, with the same subject by Rubens, in the Museum at
Antwerp. There is in the latter a freedom of line which shows in
this respect (for I am not speaking of the other qualities) a decided
progress in art ; beautiful as is Raphael's form, it is, nevertheless,
compared with later works stiff and dry; some even of Michael
Angelo's figures appear tight, and wanting in that flexibility which
freedom of handling and line can alone give. In short, some degree
of looseness is certainly good in art ; it is the contrary of rigid and
correct formality. Much of the beauty of ornamental art depends,

"Whiteman &B as £ fk oto -Zitho. LC..J don. .

Plate II L 149

upon this. Compare, for instance, the drawing of an old majolica
plate with the miserable and laboured precision of modern "pot
painting." It is not only that the work is obviously more playful,
spontaneous, and fresh from the hand of the artist, but the actual line
is more free and beautiful ; and even in so apparently inflexible a
subject as architecture, a certain degree of freedom is almost neces-
sary when it is introduced as ornament. Take any composition
of Holbein's, and in the place of his fanciful columns, long-eared
foliated capitals, and, I dare say, impossible entablatures, let some
wiseacre put in the most correct " order " he can draw ; you would at
once perceive that he had "improved" away its most piquant
flavour. Critics little think how much beauty the world loses by
their constant condemnation of the least deviation from a stiff and
correct precision. A level which is literally dead is not very
interesting. It is, no doubt, a very great pleasure to swish off the
head of any unfortunate poppy that may appear above the well-rolled
lawn, but it is just possible that the poppies may get tired of growing;
and then what would become 01 the critics ? The freedom of which
I have just been speaking, though connected with Composition of
Line, is a refinement — a subordinate branch of a study of which it is
my object here to teach only the leading facts and their simplest ex-
pression. And so we will return to our diagrams. "Tig. i shows the
flow of line in the arm ; the straight and tendinous part of the fore-
arm is contracted by the swell of the muscles higher up ; the fingers
radiate while the knuckles lie in a curve. In Fig. 2 the edge of the
muscular projection of the triceps lies in the same direction as the
outline of the supinator muscles. There is also a general harmony
between the contours of the upper part of the arm and the blade-
bone, a harmony often exhibited by the edge of the shadow, which
seems to suggest and inspire a corresponding execution with the
brush. The flow of line in Fig. 3 is obvious enough. In the front
view of the leg the outline of the adductor muscles crops out again
on the outside of the leg; the outline of the vastus externus goes
suddenly in just above the patella, and is taken up by the outline of
the calf; while the mass formed by the vastus internus, the padded
internal condyle of the femur, and the tendons of the inside of the
thigh, form together a full and varied sweep which, beginning in the
depression of the sartorius, flows into the inner line of the shin-bone
below. With this also compose the inner lines of the calf and the
soleus.

150 Plate IV.

PLATE IV.

THE hand is Nature's masterpiece, and would require a
treatise to itself. The extreme simplicity of the means by
which its beauties are produced is one of its most
astonishing characteristics. A slight curve of the back of the hand
gives the ringers that tendency to lap over each other which is
the source of such subtle and beautiful combinations of curves.
Take, for instance, the inner view of a partially closed hand, Fig. 4.
How completely its beauty would be lost if the bending of the fingers
were exactly parallel — we should lose all its complex grace. And
observe, it is not only the outlines of the fingers that compose in
radiating curves, but also the corresponding nails and joints all lie in
curves. This is a most important law in ornament. The beginner
is too apt to confine his attention to the leading and generally
radiating lines of construction, leaving what he fancies are subordinate
parts to take care of themselves ; but it is necessary that these also
should lie in harmonious curves.

There is the simple radiation of the fingers when the eye is in a
line with knuckles, Fig. 5 — the more beautiful views when the hand is
more foreshortened, Figs, i and 2 — and when it is opened the same
radiation and proportional curves may be detected. The lines or
creases in the palm of the hand also compose with each other, with
the index finger, or the lines of the knuckles. I need hardly point
out to the student that the crease that defines the ball of the thumb
is formed by the flexure of the thumb towards the palm. The gene-
rally united flexure of the three fingers is the cause of a common
crease ; while to the index finger a more independent action is allowed
by its occupying the intermediate space.

But the lines of the hand must not only be considered by them-
selves, but as leading in a natural, expressive, and graceful way to ex-
ternal objects, or doubling up, and, as it were, returning the line in
loops to the body. The gradual tapering of the arm from the
shoulder to the tips of the fingers, not rigidly like a wedge, but with
a beautiful undulation, the spreading of the fingers, and even their
different lengths, all help to prevent any sudden break in its compo-
sition with other objects.

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Plate F. 151

Watch with what ease and grace the hand adapts itself to any
forms however irregular. Study the handling of tools, the grasp of a
rope, and you cannot fail to be astonished at the simplicity of the
means by which such an infinite variety of graceful compositions are
effected.

I have already pointed out the leading lines of the leg. The out-
lines seem to cross the leg at the knee. In studying two models of
legs by Michael Angelo, I was much interested to find that this was
the case from the great majority of points of view. The composition
of the leg with the ground will be noticed further on. The facts I
have just pointed out can hardly be fully accounted for on purely
utilitarian principles. The aesthetic motive of the human figure will
probably be accepted by every thoughtful person. That every part
may be of use, and nothing redundant, is no proof that the general
aspect and form were neglected in the creation of man.

Utilitarian principles are just now very much in vogue. But, for
all that, the civil engineer will never be an architect or the mechanic
an artist. The only result we have hitherto achieved by such
principles is a cheap, mean, and spiky angularity. The " true prin-
ciple " man has the same relation to art that the narrow-minded
fanatic has to religion.

PLATE V.

THE lines of the human face comprise almost every beauty
of which curves are capable. I have roughly mapped out
the principal ones ; but it is necessary to observe that in
the\ higher organic forms there are few markings which can be
properly represented by lines. Even the edge of the brow, or of
the ndse, except where there is a positive outline, cannot be expressed
by a line, much less the form of the cheek. Lines are arbitrary
markings used to define a ditch or a ridge, and are sometimes put
where an outline would be if the object were viewed from another
point. Take up a cast of the mouth or the eye, and note how each
lobe, or region, although it has a definite form of its own, melts in
harmonious contours into others equally beautiful, and you will see
how impossible it is to render them by lines. Even shadow is rather
the exhibition of another phenomenon than a rendering of the form
itself, which can only be comprehended by looking at it very closely

152 Plate V.

or by feeling it. But taking lines for what they are worth, you will
find almost all the ordinary curves used in ornament in those of the
face. The flow of line in any feature from any point of view is
almost always harmonious. The curves on a youthful face are full
and large ; as years pass by they become smaller and more angular,
while the larger masses are subdivided into minor districts. The
leading lines of the centre of the face exhibit a combination of curves
not uncommon in the ornament of a panel, while these lines are met
by others, which, radiating from the side of the head, unite with them
and form festoons not unlike those in drapery. The line defining the
upper prominence of the forehead and the frontal sinus composes
with the line of the nose, the edge of the frontal bone with the edge of
the lower orbit — the outline of the cheek bone with the naso-labial
fold — the outline of the jaw with the opposite outline of the chin, and
of course with that of the opposite jaw, forming the contour of the
face. Even the volute is not unrepresented — (see the lines about
the orbit in Fig. 2) — it is also suggested in those of the nose, not
only in man, but also in those of a great many animals. The mouth
in profile, as well as full face, exhibits a play and harmony of line
truly wonderful, taken up and continued by the chin and jaw, while
every view of the ear shows a beautiful combination of curves.

The character of line in the face, particularly the outline of the
cheek, is full and flowing, without being empty or weak ; it has that
flatness or suggestion of being double, which we detect in all fine
forms — a quality which is more often found in cinque-cento than in
modern art. Compare the outline of an old majolica vase with that
of its modern counterfeit ; the one has a flattened fulness, a firm
but double form, with just sufficient freedom and irregularity to
suggest that it is the spontaneous creation of an artist ; the other has
the mechanical precision of the lathe — its curve is a simple one, it is
weak, correct, insipid, and has none of the flavour of the artist's mind.
The doubleness (if we may coin such a word) of so many of the
outlines of the human figure arises very often from overlapping lobes
of muscles, or perhaps from simple muscles having a tendency to come
into action near their origin and insertion rather than in the centre.
Nothing is more disagreeable than a figure drawn in simple curves ;
it appears bulbous, inflated and weak. The cinque-cento artists felt
this even more acutely than the classic sculptors. Parallelism is
another quality which often surprises the careful observer of the
human face — the shadows of the brow, the nose, the mouth, and the

.Photo-Zitho. London .

Plate VI. 153

cheek are very often parallel; and in children particularly I have
noticed that in the profile the outlines of the nose, the upper lip, the
upper part of the cheek from the eye to the wings of the nostrils, are
all parallel, while the profile of the lower part of the forehead is
parallel with the general line of the front of the eye and of the cheek
from the nose to the mouth.

PLATE VI.

THE composition of the front of the leg with the ground is
almost as obvious in the horse as it is in man. It is what
is usually called a line of beauty ; although it is made up
of many minor curves, straight lines of sinews, and bony angles,
they are so arranged that each helps to preserve the continuity of
the curve right down to the ground. I am particular on this point,
because in many of the antique statues the instep is so large that it
breaks the line. But this is never the case in the works of Michael
Angelo ; and few antique statues have the firmness and grasp of the
ground which we see in those of the Renaissance, to say nothing of
the aesthetic superiority of the later system. The student can easily
see for himself which is the most true to nature. The same sort of
line may be seen in the hind leg of most quadrupeds, its curve and
direction being varied according to the habits or the weight of the
animal. The legs of a cart-horse are straighter and more directly
under the body than those of a racer ; in a greyhound the curve is
more marked, and the legs extends considerably behind the body ;
in the lion, the tiger, or the cat, the curve is still more pronounced,
being almost like an S, and the hock is nearer the ground. This
general line is wonderfully expressive of the action of the hind leg,
and, in drawing quadrupeds, the student would do well to put it in at
once, and add the detail afterwards, taking care that, as far as possible,
it lies within the general line. These observations refer, of course, to
the //wz/ of the legs. The rear outline in both fore and hind legs is
remarkably straight, and in the hind leg angular. In the horse the
line of the hock and the profile of the face is, in many instances,
absolutely straight, and this counteracts the heaviness and weakness
of too many curves. Notwithstanding the flow of line in the neck,
back, and haunches, the great mass of the body of the horse prevents
his frequent appearance in ornament. But, in pictorial art, for this

154 Plate VII.

very reason, the horse has always been a favourite with the great
masters. The composition of the wing with the shoulder in griffins
and other nondescript monsters is sufficiently explained by the
drawing. The wing is generally supposed to grow from the spine
of the blade-bone.

As ornamental wings are seldom used (I cannot recall one instance
of their being folded on the body), it is not necessary to be so
particular about their construction as about their artistic composition,
though some attention to possibilities is never wasted on improbable
subjects. The composition of the line of the foot and the radiation
of the toes have their counterparts in those of the lion's paw and claws.
In ornamental art, and, indeed, in all art that is not professedly
imitative, it is necessary to exaggerate the curve of the phalanges
and the actual claw of rapacious and carnivorous animals ; it is only
so that we can express the nature of the animal. The paw of
Landseer's lions is, no doubt, very like nature, but it is after all a
very inexpressive mass. The sculptor should go deeper than the
fur for his facts. It is difficult to find good models of feet ; the
antique are soon exhausted; the extremities in small bronzes are
generally worthless. Michael Angelo's feet are sometimes short and
lumpy. Raphael's are well worth study ; their style and drawing are
sometimes unexceptionable, as in the Sacrifice at Lystra. I wish I
could say the same of his hands. There is a sad want of knowledge
there ; they not unfrequently appear to be suffering from chilblains.
They are sometimes expressive enough in their action, but never
firmly articulated.

Note the hands in the two pictures by Raphael in the National
Gallery; even his best hands never approach those of his great rival.

PLATE VII.

IN the antique the hair is treated in masses or lumps which
bear a general resemblance to each other both in form and
size, while each outline composes with and flows into the
next. The hair of the men is almost invariably designed on the same
principle ; the lines radiate from a centre at the back of the poll.
Figs, i, 2, and 3 are very fair examples of the different degrees of
adherence to the same law. When once pointed out the student is

Plate VII.

155

often amused at the simplicity of the composition, but if he attempts
to do anything better he will soon find out why such an arrangement
was so often repeated. It is easy to laugh at repetition ; but if an
artist is actuated by the wish to do what is good rather than what is
new, he will continue to repeat a treatment till he, or some one else,
finds out a way to do it better. Nature does the same thing millions
and millions of times without any one, at present, having accused her
of want of invention. A severe figure requires severe hair. Put a
flowing wig on the little bronze Hercules, and you will soon appreciate
the tight, compact, and ordered symmetry of his " knob." The hair
of women is more varied both in mass and treatment ; instead of
short lumps, long wavy tresses mingle with each other in flowing lines
which are often admirably composed. In the front view of a bearded
face we may detect the same Composition of Line that we see in the
lion's mane. The moustache in antique and cinque-cento masks is
treated on the same principle.

Hair is a subject of immense importance to the artist, and is the
source of almost as much variety as is drapery. Putting aside the
numberless gradations of colour and thickness, &c., which mark the
age and sex, and its quality, which is so expressive of character, and
looking at hair from the pictorial point of view alone, how invaluable
are its uses ! With what force does it enable us to relieve a head from
a light background — what piquancy is given by a dark moustache,
what dignity by a flowing beard ! What picturesque variety can be
given to a composition of many heads. Take a dozen barbers' blocks
and see how colour, contrast, and even dramatic suggestion, can be
expressed by the hair alone.

The head of the lion exhibits a very remarkable combination of
lines : in the profile the general line of the forehead and nose is
parallel with that of the lower jaw. The line from the nose to th&
corner of the mouth is curved like an S. This is very clearly marked
in the admirable lion-hunts in the Nineveh bas-reliefs. There is
hardly anything in nature that I find so difficult to model as a lion's
head ; it seems Proteus-like — to be now like a man, now a hound, now
a monkey. The least change in the length of the nose seems entirely
to alter the character ; and yet if you compared examples you would
find them of every length. Even Landseer, who knew lions well, and
in some respects succeeded so well out of doors, has modelled for the
jambs of the doors of the new Royal Academy galleries heads which,
though intended for lions', look much more like dogs'. There is

156 Plate VIII.

hardly anything that shows so radical a difference in treatment as lions'
heads. After studying them all we should be puzzled to say what con-
stituted a lion ; yet the great majority of ornamental examples, from
the Assyrian, Egyptian, and Greek downwards, differing as they do in
almost every particular, are somehow or other unmistakeably leonine.
The Nelson lions, admirable as they are, are too naturalistic. The
larger the work the more necessary is it that it should be generalized
and severe ; and I think it will be found that it is more especially
in the treatment of the hair that they are defective.

PLATE VIII.

THE three great composers are Michael Angelo, Raphael,
and Titian. Those unfortunate artists who lived about
A.D. 1600, and are almost covered up with abuse because
they were mere " conventional composers," and " macchinisti,"
"decorators," and so on, seem to me, on the contrary, either to
have forgotten, or never to have known a science the supposed
practice of which, like that of the " Black Art," has rendered their
names almost infamous. I am inclined to condemn these men,
not because they knew, but because they did not know the mysteries
of their craft. Neither their figures nor their draperies are well com-
posed. Their draperies especially are loose, incongruous masses,
which exhibit no trace of any knowledge of Composition of Line.
Their pictures are sprawling and untidy; in short, it is not the laws,
principles, and order of art that have been their ruin, but excess of
freedom and power. They lost in picturesque force the measured,
even dignity of the earlier art ; their subject occupied so large a space
that it wanted that compactness which was almost a necessary conse-
quence of an art based on the law of " even distribution." Their
shadows, being darker, no longer exhibited a deeper tint of the local
colour, but were of a uniform brown. I am far from saying these
men were not skilful in their own style. I do not like . their art,
because they abandoned ornamental for pictorial principles. But
those whe look upon imitation as the end and object of art ought
logically to regard the artists of the iyth century as superior to their
predecessors. I suspect that the real sin of these men is their power
— a quality extremely distasteful to those who spend months in

\

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XjNI^v RSITT

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Plate VII 7. 157

" conscientious " and stippled copies of a lay figure. However, be
that as it may, the student will learn little from the men who are so
much abused for technical display, and he will in time discover that
the greatest men have the greatest knowledge. Raphael will afford
more instruction that all the " macchinisti " put together.

The student will do well to watch the accidental attitudes of the nude
models when resting and in action. He will see how often the lines
of the limbs flow unexpectedly into each other, — I say unexpectedly^
for Composition of Line is to many a student a new science. I have
illustrated it here by flowing curves, leaving out all detail, so that the
principle may be more clearly intelligible ; but I cannot too often
caution the student against supposing that everything is to be drawn
in curves. The maxim, " ars est celare artem," is especially necessary
in this. Too frequent curves convert grace itself into insipidity.
Compare West's painting of Christ Healing the Sick with the cartoons
of Raphael in the next room : you will see that the principal difference
is that Raphael's line is the squarer and the firmer of the two. The
tendency of one line to compose with another in general direction is
not only quite sufficient, but seems to express a higher artistic beauty
than the absolute continuity of the curve.

Plate 2 gives an instance of the commonest composition of the
lines of the leg seen in profile. The arms present a great variety of
line, and very frequently compose with each other ; as, for instance,
when one hand is placed on the head, the other on the hip ; many
Caryatids are so composed. The elbow reaching to the spine of the
pelvis allows the arm to compose with the border of the torso and the
lines of the legs. The continuous sweeping line of the arms and
shoulders is well shown in Raphael's magnificent figure of the Angel
releasing Peter from prison.

The sketches on the accompanying plate are sufficient to put the
student on the track which he must pursue by his own observations in
nature and art. I have only to add that a careful study of the lines
of the nude figure will frequently suggest the composition of drapery
best suited to express its action.

i58 Plate IX.

PLATE IX.

THE first fact to be considered in drapery is its uniformity;
it may have any degree of thickness or of pliability, but it
is necessarily uniform throughout. Hence the certainty of
its behaviour and the evenness of its curves. The thicker the
material the broader and more massive are its folds ; if it is thin and
flexible, the folds are more numerous and pipey ; and the difference
is still more marked on the figure, for the thinness of the stuff enables
the wearer to take up a greater quantity, either to throw it over his
shoulder, or to fasten it with a brooch, than would be possible with a
heavier or harsher material. The folds of a soft and woolly texture
flow in soft curves, while some materials have a tendency to crease
either across the weft or the warp, which gives them a square and
angular character.

If drapery is laid on any irregular object it will, of course, rest on
its most prominent points ; it will either fall perpendicularly from them,
or the intermediate parts will hang in waves or festoons ; and, if the
drapery is ample, it will lie in radiating folds. In short, all folds
radiate from points of support, or from points where they are gathered
up according to the different fashions of the time. These simple facts
are the basis on which the majority of draperies are constructed. If
you take any figure, and arbitrarily fix a point of support, provided it
is on a prominence, you may set out the foundation of a very respect-
able composition of drapery by drawing lines from it in every direc-
tion. Where there are two equal points of support the drapery falls
in symmetrical festoons between them ; but where one is predomi-
nant, the folds, particularly in a harsh material, will meet each other
alternately, and form a more angular and varied Composition of Line.
Where there is a great amplitude of drapery from one point of support,
it will hang straight down ; but the central line of the whole mass is,
strictly speaking, the only one that is perpendicular ; the others will be
forced by the weight of the opposite folds out of their natural direction.

So far for drapery hanging from points. But drapery more often
falls loosely over the body or a limb, a general direction being given
to its folds by its being drawn round some other part of the body by
a change of action or some such cause. Then it becomes more com-
plex, and must be studied from nature. As a general rule, the folds

"Whitenum A- 1 a s s /v , OTto-Zt!

1

2

3

ERUGINO

Plate X. 159

will be shaken out from the front r,nd upper parts of the body or limbs,
and will be naturally found where there is more room for them : for
we should never forget that depth is necessary to folds ; where this
ceases to be the case, the drapery must either be plain or in flat plaits.
Drapery gives mass, colour, variety, and motion to the figure. It
is almost as necessary to art as clothing is to the body for warmth, com-
fort and decency. Strip everyone naked, and how few stories could
painters tell intelligibly ; not only would all historical subjects be im-
possible, but we should be unable to illustrate any fable or story that
depended on the rank or calling of the actors. King Cophetua and
the Beggar Maid could be nothing more than a man in love with a
woman. Without drapery groups could not be massed, while any
splendour of colour or variety of texture would be impossible. It is
difficult to exaggerate its importances. Is it not then beyond
measure extraordinary that it has no place in the programme of our
studies — that its commonest principles are never alluded to, much
less systematically taught ?

PLATE X.

»

THE works of Perugino are perhaps more useful to the
student than those of any other artist, because of the
transparent artifices of their construction. No man so
persistently adhered to a few types of attitude and drapery. Three
out of every four of his figures are so much alike, particularly
in the lower part of the drapery, that a tracing of one will almost
exactly fit the others. This repetition is not to be defended, but it
betrays his method ; and that is what we want to learn. But we
should be wrong to condemn him too hastily, even for his repetitions.
His invariable grace is owing to the use of a few simple flowing
curves, which, crossing over the figure, may be almost said to con-
vert it into an ornamental composition. Indeed, his methods were
adopted in decoration. Compare Fig. i, Plate XII., which is from
a majolica plate, with a similar figure in the present plate. Compare
also the crossing over of the lines in the limbs, Plates II., III., IV.,
with the crossing over of the lines of the drapery. This crossing
over has another important use; it counteracts the inevitable
parallelism of lines in a group of standing figures — a parallelism
which is still further concealed or counteracted by the great horizontal

160 Plate X.

folds which so frequently envelope the waist of the figures of
Perugino — an artifice which Raphael was wise enough never to
abandon : witness its constant occurrence where there are many
standing figures, as in the "School of Athens," the " Parnassus," and
many others of his works. The thin, silky hair, which did not break
the oval contour of the head, the graceful loops of the banded head-
dress, the radiating and flowing lines of the drapery, the refined and
gentle air of the figures, and their graceful pose, all combined to con-
vey a saint-like and almost heavenly beauty. It would be interesting
to trace how far Perugino's devotional feeling could be formulated. It
is the fashion to associate devotional feeling with some degree of
artistic innocence, not to say imbecility ; and devotianal art is gene-
rally the product of emotion rather than of intellect. Yet Perugino,
whose works perhaps exhibit more of this quality than those of any
other painter, was an atheist. He worked solely from the love of
money, and more than any other man worked by receipt. It is,
however, not impossible that Vasari may in some respects have been
unjust to his memory ; he records that Michael Angelo publicly called
him a dolt and a blockhead. Michael Angelo's own idiosyncracy was
too Herculean to be saint-like ; he could represent as no man ever
did before the solemn majesty of inspiration or the sublime grief of
the divine Madonna ; but there was none of the weakness and little
of the tenderness which are characteristic of Christian devotion. He
was stern but not ascetic ; the necessities of his art, as well as his own
nature, made him reject the attenuated form, the almost feminine
weakness, which indicate a body in subjection to the soul. He could
hardly have appreciated an art so diametrically opposed to his own,
even had it been spontaneous ; when he saw it produced by rule, and
repeated over and over again for the mere sake of making money, his
lofty and impetuous nature was driven to indignation, and he con-
demned the manufacture of saint-like imbecility in no measured
terms. But the question for us to consider is not whether Michael
Angelo's estimate of the man was just, but whether Perugino's works,
notwithstanding the motive and means for their production, were sweet,
impressive, and devotional. Now, this I think we must all agree they
undoubtedly were. I dwell on this point, because it would seem to
prove that qualities which in a poet from time immemorial have been
considered spontaneous and impalpable, seem to have been caught,
and reduced to rule by the artist. May we not conclude from this
that art is more te.achable than poetry ?

Plate XL 161

PLATE XI.

GHIBERTI was almost as persistent a mannerist as Perugino.
His gracefulness is so monotonous that it palls upon us :
after a lengthened study of his gates we have a positive
longing for a discord. There is, however, one good in his constant
repetition : it betrays his method. It is astonishing, and at first
a little disappointing, to find how small a residuum is left when a
man is analyzed and sifted; we seldom find at the bottom of the
crucible more than one or two grains of pure gold. But the fact is,
that the normal state of man is, not to have many ideas, but to have
none at all ; and so one or two grains of pure metal are quite enough
to establish a fame for ever. A complete comprehension of one
master's methods will give the student a power of analysis with others ;
and he would do well to arrange and classify the leading types, and
the artifices by which they are varied, in the gates of Ghiberti,, for in
no other work will he find so many excellent draped figures in so
small a space. In the folds of his draperies Ghiberti carried the
principle of radiation to excess, though it must be confessed it is
modified and concealed with considerable ingenuity. He generally
takes a point about the chest or the hip, and draws a great number
of curved lines radiating from it. Fig. 2 is perhaps the simplest
example : and how very graceful and effective it is ! All the other
figures are in reality constructed on the same principle ; but Fig. 3
affords a capital instance of his favourite variation, modifications of
which may be detected in twenty or thirty others. Observe how very
often one side of the figure is straight, the other curved. These
artifices seem to have escaped the observation of Michael Angelo,
who praised the gates of Ghiberti as much as he abused the works of
Perugino : and yet there is as much repetition, as monotonous a
grace, and as constant an adherence to formulae in one as in the
other ; while the too great variety in the relief, the want of severity
and compactness in the ornament, could hardly have met with the
deliberate approval of the designer of the Sistine Chapel and the
tomb of Julius II. Such is the caprice of genius ! The remarks of
the great are recorded without our knowing the circumstances under
which they were made. He has dined with genial friends, and
cordially recognizes what is good in a mediocre work; the next

M

102 Plate XI L

morning he is suffering from indigestion, and regards undoubted
merit with a jaundiced eye.

If he had not the stern simplicity of Donatello or the tremendous
intensity of Verrochio (whose equestrian statue of Colleone is the
finest in the world), for skill and simplicity of composition, for
picturesque effect, for the grace of his figures, for the finish of his
work, Ghiberti deserves his fame ; and when we consider that they
were designed before he was 20 years old, his gates are certainly
prodigies of art. They are remarkably in advance of their age ; they
have, indeed, more of the characteristics of late than of early work.
His statues of St. Stephen and St. Matthew in Or San Michele
exhibit a greater amplitude, but are constructed on the same principles
as those which he used for so many of his figures in the gates.

The education of a goldsmith seems to develope artistic power.
Is it possible that the small scale of the work may enable the artist
to study and grasp the proportion of his whole composition, while
the minute finish which it was necessary to attain in the precious
metals made the finish that was sufficient for bronze or marble a
matter of comparative ease ? I often think that architects would get
on better if they made small models of their buildings — not finished
models after they had designed them, but rougher models which they
designed and altered as they went on. In short, they should design
in mass rather than in line.

PLATE XII.

W^"E have already noticed Fig. i, from a majolica plate.
This example is particularly interesting, because it
shows that the Composition of Line was then known
and used as a principle ; for it is not at all impossible that an
artist may have an intuitive perception of a law which he has
never formulated even in his own mind ; and many a man may be
surprised to find that he has all his life been producing works which
are referable to some simple receipt of which he was hitherto un-
conscious. Several of the figures show the arrangement of the lines
of the sleeve when the arm is bent ; they radiate with singular
uniformity from the crease of the joint. The student should observe
the variety and beauty of the folds in his own sleeve. Modern dress
is net so ugly as is often supposed. The imitative method of treat-

ss, Photo -Lit\o. Lojidon. .

Plate XII. 163

ment seems, with its usual ill-luck, to have seized the evil and omitted
the good, and has thus thrown it into greater discredit than it
deserves. The same arrangement of lines may be detected in the
close-fitting sleeve and the more ample folds of the wider one. In
thin materials the folds are thin and numerous ; in thick buckram
they are few and broad ; but all are alike subject to the same law.
Fig. 3 shows how easily a few lines on a nude figure will suggest
drapery. A few overlapping folds about the knees and ankles, and
the leg seems at once to be invested in tights or buskins ; even
leaving out the divisions of the toes will drape the feet. In the
splendid and picturesque compositions of Polydorus and Julio
Romano, figures in vigorous action are drawn nude; a slashed 01
scalloped edge below the deltoid is sufficient to suggest that the torso
is encased in cuir bouilli. The arms are treated as nude. The
cuirass is coloured to represent leather or metal; it is ornamented
or covered with scales, and so the artist is able to combine the
grand and expressive action of the human figure with the utmost
splendour of ornament. The battle pieces of the school of Raphael
are now little thought of, but this artifice is alone sufficient to elevate
them above every composition in which it is not used, as any candid
person can easily test by experiment.

Observe in Fig. i the skill with which the folds on the sleeve are
varied. There is first a plain fold, then one divided, then a fold of
more varied form, succeeded by another more complex still. Com-
pare this with the gradation of the lobes of leaves in Plate XIX.
Compare also the ornamental treatment of the folds of the tunic
where it is pulled through the waistband, and hangs over it, with
nearly the same arrangement in Fig. i, Plate X. The folds at the
waist have always afforded opportunities for much beauty and variety
of line. Nothing can be simpler than a Greek tunic ; it is little more
than an oblong bag, yet the upper direction of the armholes and a
girdle round the waist are enough to convert it into the most refined
costume. In the Apostles of Perugino or Raphael, in the Sibyls by
Michael Angelo, this simple dress affords a foundation and an
agreeable contrast for the fuller cloak or toga, whose flowing lines
are so often balanced by the perpendicular lines of the tunic below.
When he drapes the model, the student will find that it is necessary
for other than aesthetic reasons to use the tunic as an under garment,
for it is impossible to drape a perfectly nude figure in the toga alone
—it slips too readily off the polished shoulders.

1 64 Plate XII L

PLATE XIII.

FOR study no man is so useful as Raphael. The student
should get photographs of his best works, and trace their
leading outlines. If he has hitherto been ignorant of
composition, such a picture as the Holy Family, or the St.
Catherine, in our National Gallery, will open his eyes to a new
science. The examples on the opposite page will serve as suggestions
for future independent study. I hope it is unnecessary for me to
remind the reader that I am not writing a complete treatise on
Composition of Line in pictorial art, but merely directing the
attention of the National scholars to the universality of this law, by
examples taken from the works of different artists.

The change of Raphael's style may be stated as an increase of
amplitude and mass rather than of any principle of construction. In
his early manner the limbs are more attenuated, the draperies more
scant, than in his later works. This change is not peculiar to him.

In the progress of art generally, as well as of each individual artist,
the tendency is to become broader and more ample. The young
student invariably draws the limbs more elongated and meagre than
they really are ; and I have often surprised a pupil by measuring the
true proportion on his work. It is amusing to hear critics condemn
those who have adopted a broader style than they approve. They call
them " sensual," " pagan," and many hard names, forgetting that all
their criticism, however ingeniously they may attempt to conceal it, can
never mean anything more than, " I like this," " I don't like that,"
and that it is far more likely that the " I " should be wrong than the
work they criticise. A sour ascetic will condemn amplitude — a man
in the vigour of mature knowledge will perhaps think the earlier work
shows more weakness than devotion.

There is room for all. There is art to every man's taste ; and if
ever the public could be brought to understand what the criticism of
the day really is, it would speedily become extinct — a consummation
devoutly to be wished.

The student should carefully study those works which are easily
accessible. First of all the "Cartoons;" for, though little of the
actual execution can be attributed to Raphael, the composition is
undoubtedly his. The expression of the faces, the action of the
figures, combine to tell the story in a way that is at once effective,

RAPHAEL

r r

TJHIVI CT

MICHAEL AWGZLO

Plate XIV. 165

dramatic, and simple. They are large, manly, free, decorative works;
the execution is what would in these days be called "Academic" — in
other words, it is the straightforward work of men who knew their
business and did it. If they had stopped to talk, or even to think of
half the nonsensical refinements that critics now pretend to see in
their work, they would never have got through the job; for the
drawings had to be done in a given time for the tapestry weavers to
work from. Incomparably the finest part of the cartoons is the
heads of the Apostles in "The Charge to Peter." These are
painted with all the care bestowed on an easel picture, and are
probably by Raphael himself. If the nude is sometimes treated in
the grandest manner — as in " The Sacrifice at Lystra " — it is at other
times positively bad, as in the arm of the cripple at " The Beautiful
Gate." The feet are generally good, the hands as generally
indifferent ; the draperies are finely cast, and, for the purpose for
which they were wanted, magnificently painted. I have reason to
suspect that the present state of the cartoons suggests a finer quality
of colour than they really had when new. The wear and tear they
went through at the hands of the tapestriers, the neglect and decay
of ages, have combined to produce an obscurity which is very
congenial to the imagination of critics. If art is ever mentioned in
heaven — which God forbid — and critics are ever lucky enough to get
there,1 no one will laugh at them more than Julio Romano, Giovanni
da Udine, and the other men who actually did the work which the
critics pretend to worship.

PLATE XIV.

THE characteristics of the art of Michael Angelo are
simplicity of outline and squareness of form. The
greatness of men might very justly be weighed by the
degree of their comprehension of these two qualities. Titian

1 " Dante, da principle, descrisse il profondissimo Inferno quale un sito ove i
dannati erano sforzati a sentire interminabili censure still' Arte.

" L'efletto di tale pratica su quelli sciagurati fu di commuovere e d'ira e di
fastidio il loro cerebro, in modo ch' esso fermento, e cosi fortuitamente sfuggivasene
quale icore pe' fori' del naso, nel vuoto cranio de' medesimi non altro che acri
•vapori lasciando.

" In questa misera condizione acerbi censori essi ne addivennero, e il duro
patimento da loro prima softerto a nuovi dannati implacabili inflissero."

1 66 Plate XIV.

and Sebastian del Piombo well understood the first, but in the
second no man has ever approached Michael Angelo. A comparison
of the sculpture, and more especially of the bronzes, of the cinque-
cento period with those of the antique, will show that the Italians
knew the value of this quality better than their ancestors. But it
was not only by squareness of form (a subject which will be treated
more fully in " Lectures on the Human Figure "), but in the frequent
occurrence of horizontal lines, that we may detect the hand of Michael
Angelo. It is true they would naturally occur in sitting figures, but
Michael Angelo never failed to emphasize them. If we compare his
prophets and Sibyls with similar figures by Raphael or any other
artist, his will be the stronger, the firmer; it is the immovable solidity
of their composition that gives them the air of almost awful repose.
He was well aware of all the artifices adopted by Ghiberti or Perugino,
but he felt the necessity of counteracting a too graceful flow of
radiating lines by straight, and more especially by horizontal ones.
A bold continuous sweep of line is another characteristic of the great
Florentine : it can best be studied in the spandrils which contain the
genealogy of our Lord, for these, being executed with extraordinary
rapidity, betray his method. (See Figs. 4 and 5.) Where any other
artist would put a seat, a book, or a scroll into picturesque per-
spective, he would make them straight and square; he was a classic,
as distinguished !from a Goth; and all his work is stern, severe,
simple, but more especially square. He seemed almost disgusted with
grace, and preferred rugged discord to monotonous harmony. There
was a majesty and a mystery about all his work which, I am glad to
say, defies analysis. He has been condemned because his moving
figures are not perfectly natural — they appear to pause. So far from
this being a defect, it seems to me one of the chief attributes of the
grandest art. A sculptor would naturally and rightly so treat his
figures ; a stately slowness is an element of size, and gives a sensation
of strength and repose. A mouse is quicker than a giant.

Michael Angelo is simple without being empty ; broad yet full of
detail ; tremendous in action, yet statuesque — almost architectural—
in repose, so squarely built up are his figures. Beside his drawing,
that of every other master appears loose and feeble ; everything is
clearly and firmly articulated, and everything is generalized; every
detail has evidently been digested and reproduced — it bears the
impress of his mind. Study, for instance, the feet of the slave.
How broad, simple, easy it all appears ! how little apparently is done !

2

ANTIQUE

-n^H;- f'h^to Li

Plate XV. 167

yet no one has ever done so much. No one before his time had
ever so completely rendered the firm, square, bony joints above, the
elastic pad below, or the continuous flow of line to the ground.
Take the feet of any of the antique, you will find them inferior in
the expression of these qualities. This knowledge, this firm com-
prehension, is not derived from the imitation, but from the study of
nature; and no man has ever studied and assimilated as he did.
You never find empty spaces in his figures ; there is no shirking or
going lightly over parts not fully understood ; there is no reliance on
mere copying of appearances. His grasp of every detail is firm and
exact ; yet his feeling for simplicity and grandeur of form so pre-
ponderated over his knowledge, that his detail is never obtrusive.
It is to be hoped in these days of universal education that even
critics may be taught to comprehend and respect such profound
attainments, and that the Sistine frescoes may at length be allowed
their legitimate influence in the world of art.

PLATE XV.

ANTIQUE draperies are more natural and more pipey than
those of the Renaissance, because, in the first place,
they are transcripts from everyday costume ; and, in the
second, a somewhat liney mode of treatment was rendered necessary
by the absence of colour, as explained in the "Lecture on Con-
trast." They display the figure more skilfully, and are more refined,
beautiful, and chaste than the drapery of any subsequent period ;
compared with them, the sculptured draperies of Michael Angelo look
like pieces of rock. Fig. i is a well-known example of the skill with
which the ancients represented drapery in motion ; it may be
compared with Fig. 3 in Plate XIII. Many of the Mcenads show
the same flow of line. Fig. 4 is a very remarkable example of the
radiation of lines, and it is evident on examination that many orna-
mental bas-reliefs were composed on well understood rules. The
earliest archaic drapery consisted of rigid radiating folds or plaits,
generally terminating in formal zigzags or cascades; they were often
imitated at later periods on account of their severe symmetrical
beauty. The composition of the lines of the toga were sometimes
too monotonous to be pleasing. The exact similarity of the folds in
different statues shows the care the wearers must have taken to put

168 Plate XV.

on the toga in the fashionable manner, a manner which, with oui
present knowledge, it is exceedingly difficult to acquire. Indeed,
there are few parts of an artist's business so wearisome as cutting out
the patterns and arranging the folds of obsolete costume. A skilful
and ingenious tailor would save artists many an hour of vexatious
and often useless labour. The student should consult Hope's
"Costume of the Ancients;" Weiss's " Kostumkunde," Stuttgart,
1856; Willemin's "Choix de Costumes Civils et Militaires des
Peuples de 1'Antiquite'," Paris, 1798 ; Carl Koehler's work (Dresden,
1871);" Ferrario's very complete book on "Costume;" Smith's
" Classical Dictionary," under Chiton, Pallium, Tunica, and Toga.

It is difficult to find a material which is at the same time thin and
heavy enough to imitate the small and continuous folds of antique
draperies and exhibit the form of the figure without being themselves
meagre or empty. Old calico soaked in clay water, and thrown on a
clay model, makes the nearest approach to them. When the model
becomes dry, a syringe will restore the fulness and weight of the
drapery. But it is exceedingly difficult to arrange anything like
complete drapery for a lay figure ; the natural motion of the living
figure is necessary to shake the dress into easy folds.

A short tunic with armholes, a long tunic with sleeves, another of
more ample and thicker material, a girdle, a pallium, a toga, and a
piece of cloth 12 feet by 6 feet, will enable the student to arrange the
leading varieties and combinations of antique dress. It is perhaps as
well to remind him that he is not bound to adhere to draperies as
exhibited in sculpture. I have already explained why they are pipey
and massive. The drawings of drapery on Greek vases are also liney,
because, being treated in the flat manner without shadow, it is the
only way of representing folds ; but when the artist attempts a com-
position of more advanced art, and has to attend to roundness of
form, breadth, and chiaroscuro, a different treatment becomes neces-
sary. Owing to the almost total absence of Greek painting,. we have
not improbably a false notion of Greek drapery. A person who had
recently studied Hope's book of " Costume " would be apt to think
the draperies in Raphael's " School of Athens" were more unlike the
antique than they really are ; for in such a picture the straight and
liney style of sculpturesque and archaic art would have been entirely
false ; and many an artist gets a reputation for classical taste because
he does not know enough about art to treat his painted draperies in
a manner broader than would be proper in sculpture. A little know-

Plate XVI II. 171

much of the ornament is nothing more than lumps of coarsely carved
leaves stuck on at regular intervals. I am far from ignoring the effect
and beauty of much Gothic work ; many of the capitals, for instance,
in the choir of Canterbury Cathedral have a stern archaic vigour that
would certainly not be improved by the delicacy and grace which an
Italian artist would have added to them. But it is the fashion to
exalt and attribute every excellency to every phase of Gothic, whereas
the plain truth is that little of it has any artistic merit beyond
contributing to the fretted and picturesque effect of the building.
Comparisons are especially odious in art ; but if made, the Goths will
not be the gainers by them ; and they would be wise to be silent.
The fact that one can get twenty carvers who can execute Gothic
ornament to one that can do anything resembling the Italian style is
a conclusive proof of the greater refinement of the latter. An attempt
has been made to meet the difficulty of getting artistic work properly
done by the use of terra-cotta, and it must at once be admitted that
ornament, which exhibits the very touch and handling of the original
model, is infinitely finer, as well as cheaper and more permanent,
than a coarsely carved copy in stone. But there is this objection —
the finer, the more varied and artistic the work, the higher the organic
rank of the elements of which it is composed, the less ought it to be
repeated ; so that according to the strict laws of art, the gain in the
use of terra-cotta is not so great as it first appears. Besides, work
modelled in clay, though it may have sweetness and gradation of
tint hard to be attained in stone, cannot compare with it in crispness
and precision — qualities of greater decorative value in architecture.
A careful comparison ot some of the Lombardi specimens will show
how much they owe to the chisel and drill. By the side of them
terra-cotta squeezes of modelled work, however artistic, will look
almost like cast-iron. One reason, no doubt, of this is, that the first
thing the manufacturer does when he gets the model into his hands is
to fill up all the sharp and deep cuttings, to ensure his clay leaving
the mould easily. Nothing can supersede carving for decoration that
is near enough to be seen and examined ; but, unluckily, at present
we have no carvers capable of producing good work. Compare, for
instance, the Arabesques in the panels of the piers of the India Office
with any scrap of old Italian work. You see what the design is
evidently intended for ; but there is not one square inch ot the
executed detail that is better than barbaric Byzantine.

1 72 Plate XIX.

PLATE XIX.

THE group marked A contains suggestions for leaflets from
which the student can construct the perfect leaves,
taking care to vary the complex examples more than the
simple ones. That marked B shows how to work out an element to
any degree of complexity. The ordinary Tudor flower is perhaps
the simplest example of this process. If we draw a square, and put
four round blots just within the centre of each side, and then treat
each quarter in a similar way with smaller blots, and proceed in this
manner, we shall get a Tudor flower of any degree of complexity
we choose to give it. The great advantage of this simple method is
that the character of the leaf is preserved throughout, however com-
plicated it may be. The lobes are all similar, and occupy a space
which is of the form of the original element itself. Nature herself
seems to work on this principle, and the student should carefully
study a compound, or what botanists (who are fond of hard names)
call a supra-de-compound leaf, and he will soon know more than I
can teach him here. If he will do this, he will never rebel against
law, but will learn how the utmost variety and beauty are consistent
with it. C gives examples of gradation or proportion — a most
interesting and universal principle in leaves, and I suspect in all
nature too. When once pointed out it is a pleasure to watch its
constant recurrence. A crysanthemum leaf will afford a subject for
the astonishment, as well as admiration, of any one who has hitherto
failed to detect this principle.

PLATE XXI.

THE Spandril by Alfred Stevens exhibits great variety in
the, character and treatment of foliage, and also in the
degree of its relief, some parts being very prominent,
while others melt into the ground. It is full of valuable suggestions,
and is a perfect repertory of the various treatments of the Acanthus.
Observe the skill with which its masses are ornamentally disposed,
and form bosses at regular intervals above the top of the arch.
These bosses are made up of rosettes or buds which are well

"WMtemau 8cE>&as.f?ioto LMr. .London.

"WMtemau &BasR/-W« -lithe. London.

Plate XXL 173

worth our study ; not only is each boss different, but each group of
leaves has evidently been designed to be as unlike its neighbour as
possible. The character of the foliage is peculiar ; it is more obtuse
than either the Antique or the Renaissance ; it is more varied, more
studiously elaborated. We cannot but admire the taste and labour
displayed in such a composition as this ; and when we consider that
all this was expended on the spandril of a firegrate we must respect
the artist still more. But I may perhaps venture to doubt if it is
either so effective or so pleasing as many spandrils on which not a
tithe of the labour or thought has been spent. Its line is not always
satisfactory ; the foliage is sometimes wanting in the rigidity which is
so necessary to express its vitality; it looks a little flaccid and limp.
There is also something incongruous in the great variety of plants
which seem to be growing from one stem, while many of its tendrils
and smaller leaves are a little untidy and loose. I speak with
diffidence of the work of so great an artist, but I cannot help
feeling that a simpler composition of one sort of leaf, without much
variety either of form or relief, would have been better in every
respect.

I have already described the general principles of the construction
of the ornament in the panels of pilasters. The examples I have
given, though not without faults, will not the less serve to illustrate my
remarks. Observe in all of them the horizontal lines, which not only
counteract the curves, and strengthen the ornament, but allow of
its being built up in regular stages, or platforms, — a necessity in so
narrow a space. A central stalk, tazze, and vases are common to all
the examples; in No. i the rest of the ornament is composed of
foliage alone, Nos. 2 and 3 of foliage combined with animal forms.
No. 4 would be better without the dolphins at the bottom, not only
because they are too lumpy and inelegant, but because there is
nothing of the same organic rank to balance them above. The detail
in No. 3 is out of scale, the gigantic mask being out of all proportion
with the flaming horns beneath it. Each pilaster has a character of
its own. No. i is in this respect the most consistent — and, in all,
the ornament is evenly distributed ; its relief also is uniform. There
is no attempt to blend some parts with the ground while others are
very prominent ; all is clearly defined. One of the commonest faults
of young artists is the introduction of too many incongruous elements;
some of the finest pilasters are composed of foliage alone. It is
always as well to exclude the figure from the ornamentation of

1 74 Plates X VI. XX. XX I I. -XX V.

pilasters or borders which enclose figure subjects in the centre. An
adherence to the rule of architectural distribution will, however, lead
to the sound and appropriate use of ornamental elements. The stiles
of cinque-cento pilasters are more narrow than modern architects
usually make them, and the panel is not so deeply sunk; and this
gives them a greater air of refinement and breadth. The projection
of the cap is moderate, and in short pilasters the cap also is short in
proportion. The ornament on a pilaster should be carved in situ, so
that the artist may take the fullest advantage of the light ; in the jamb
of a window a very good effect may be produced by bevelling, off the
ornament towards the light, and cutting it sharp down to the ground
on the dark side. There is a pilaster so treated in the Kensington
Museum.

PLATES XVI. XX. XXII. XXIII.
XXIV. XXV.

IT is unnecessary to describe these plates ; they contain
examples of several of the elements mentioned in my list
in order to show the sort of objects the student should
collect. He would do well to arrange his note-book at the very
commencement of his studies, allowing much or little space to
each class, according to its beauty, variety, or adaptability to orna-
mental purposes. His drawing should be exact enough for useful
reference, or at least to recall each object to his own memory ; he
should note below from what place, building, or book he copied it ;
he should also have a full index for reference, and keep a list of the
books he has found most useful. These may appear trivial matters,
but much time is wasted for the want of them. If he sees or thinks
of anything that is likely to be of use to him in his profession, let
him note it at once for future investigation. By careful cultivation,
and by this alone, his memory may become copious and exact ; but
till he has proved it to be so, he would be wise to mistrust it
altogether.

A list fairly written out on one sheet will give a clearer conception
of the arrangement of the elements than merely reading the lecture
about them ; for when we have got to the end of a lecture we seldom
remember very much of its beginning. A sheet so arranged will

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Plates X VI. XX. XX II. -XX V. 175

serve as an index, and also be of use in the architectural distribution
of ornament. In adapting the elements to the decoration of a
building, its style and character are the first things to be considered :
if severe and simple, only the simplest elements must be used ; but
these must be placed in their proper order. In a very florid building,
we might begin at the other end of the scale, and have painted
subjects in the vaults and spandrils, descending by degrees to more
flat and symmetrical ornamentation on those features of the building
which were more architecturally essential, but never, even in the most
solid parts, becoming too severe. In short, the artist can play a tune
on any part of the scale he likes, so long as he adheres to the relative
order of the elements, and respects their organic and ornamental
rank ; he may exhaust the resources of the whole scale, or he may
limit himself to a few of its simplest elements.

I need hardly say that foliage combined with the higher organic
forms, is one of the commonest motives in ornament. Dolphins,
lions, sphinxes, tritons, mermaids, and the human torso have foliated
terminations. Ears, beards, horns, even helmets and shields, sprout
out into leaf ; so that in this respect there is a mixture of elements.
Indeed, few things can be incorporated into ornament without some
such modification as this — which, as it were, binds them together in
the same composition. (See Plate XXV., Frontispiece.) Shells afford
valuable suggestions for ornament ; they are constructed on one
simple principle — addition to their margins. Between bivalves and
spiral shells there is less difference than might be imagined ; a slight
deviation from direct radiation from a centre, and what would have
been a limpet or a part of a cockle becomes a turbinated shell. The
full-grown shell retains unaltered in its apex the infant nucleus to
which successive convolutions have added size without altering its
form.

It is interesting to note in the different character of shells a resem-
blance to epochs in art. Some have a Greek simplicity, while in
others we may detect the picturesque bizarrerie of the Rococo. It
would be difficult to invent a new shell, so completely has every
avenue of invention been exhausted by nature. Each development
is worked out to the utmost practicable exaggeration ; mere rudi-
mentary prominences may be traced through a series of gradations,
till at last they become developed into spikes, whose tenuity and
length are only limited by the weakness of the material, or the impos-
sibility of the animal existing with such inconvenient appendages.

I76

Plates XVL XX. XX I I. -XXV.

Fish seem to have been designed in the same exhaustive manner.
We have fishes all head and fishes all tail ; or fins are developed till
they resemble large wings extending far beyond the vestige which
marks the position rather than the existence of a tail. These ex-
travagances and comicalities of nature are more especially instructive
to the ornamental artist.

F TT M IT

CH1SWICJC PKESS I— C. WHITT1NGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE.

*«* *"*£££&£teszr.

OCT 26 1932

1933

AUG 1 1941

jut

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APR ^l^

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