springs of Nature's workmanship. Inasmuch as, however, we find the same hero subject to an entire series of conditions not merely distinct, but opposed to each other, the masculine forms here also frequently approximate to the feminine. This is, for example, the case where Achilles first appears among the maidens of Lycomedes. Here we do not find him in his full heroic strength such as he displays before Troy, but in drapery resembling that of a woman and a fascination of figure which almost conceals his sex. Hercules, too, is not always depicted in the gravity and power suggestive of the tedious labours which he performed, but in the milder impersonation of his service to Omphale, as also in the repose of his deification, and generally in a variety of situations. In other relations heroes possess the closest affinity for the figures of the deities themselves, Achilles for that of Mars, for instance; it is consequently only after the most profound study that we can recognize the specific meaning of a piece of statuary merely from the characterization without further suggestion from attributes. Really expert connoisseurs can, however, deduce the character and shape of the entire figure from isolated pieces and supply what is missing; from which fact we again are instructed to admire the fine insight and the consequential character the individualization of Greek art displays to us, whose masters knew how to preserve and execute even the smallest detail in consonance with the entire effect.
Coming now to _satyrs_ and _fauns_ we find in them made visible what is throughout excluded from the lofty Ideal of the gods, the needs of mankind, the jollity of life, sensuous pleasure, satisfaction of excessive desire, and the like. Yet we find in particular young satyrs and fauns so remarkable for the beauty in which they are represented by the ancients that, to adopt a phrase of Winckelmann[184], "Every example of such figures may be exchanged, if we except the head, for a statue of Apollo, I refer to that one which is styled Sauroktonos, and possesses the same stansion of the legs." The heads of fauns and satyrs may be known by their pointed ears, their stiffly erected hair, and their little horns.
A _second_ province of sculpture is occupied by what is _human simply._ In this we have above all else the beauty of human form as we find it set before us in its elaborate power and dexterity in the sacred games.
Wrestlers, discoboli, and the like are its main subject-matter. In such productions sculpture proceeds in a way that is somewhat opposed to the mere portrait, in which department the ancients, even in cases where they actually copied _real_ personages, still understood how to hold fast throughout to the principle of sculpture as we have come to know it.
The _last_ field that sculpture makes its own is that of independent _animal_ figures, more particularly lions, hounds, and some others.
Here, too, the ancients did not fail to grasp, make vital in its individuality, and enforce the principle of sculpture, the substantive significance of form, and indeed attained to such a perfection that, to take one example, the cow of Myron has become more famous than all his other works. Goethe, in "Kunst und Alterthum[185]," has described it with great charm of style, and pre-eminently drawn attention to the fact that, as we have already seen, such as animal function as suckling is only presented by Greek art in the entirely animal world. He entirely sets on one side poetical conceits such as we find in ancient epigrams, and with acuteness confines his attention to the _naïveté_ of the conception out of which this most familiar of artistic themes arises.
(_c_) In concluding this chapter we have now to refer a little more closely to the _particular_ individuals, in the characterization and vitality of which the distinctions above mentioned are elaborated, that is to say, for the most part to the presentment of gods.
(_α_) However much, speaking generally--and we may no doubt seek to enforce our conviction in reference also to the spiritual deities of sculpture--this spiritual significance is at bottom the emancipation of individuality--and the remark applies to Ideals also according to the degree of their ideality and nobility--to that extent as individuals their distinction from one another is less marked. And the astonishing thing in the problem of sculpture, as solved by the Greeks, consisted just in this, that despite of the universality and ideality of their gods they have none the less preserved their individuality and lines of distinction; they have done so despite the fact that in certain directions we are conscious of the endeavour to eliminate hard-and-fast boundaries and to depict particular forms in their transitional state.
If, moreover, we are inclined to regard individuality in a way that suggests definite traits as being appropriate to definite deities, much as the traits of a portrait are so, a fixed type will thereby necessarily appear to be substituted for a vital creation and art will suffer accordingly. But this is quite as little in accordance with the facts. On the contrary we find that their invention in such individualization and vitalization gained in subtlety just in proportion as a substantive type lay at the roots of the same.
(_β_) Again, in considering the particular deities, we are inevitably led to the conviction that one individual is of commanding influence in determining all these ideal figures. This supreme value and dignity Pheidias attached in an unrivalled degree to the form and expression of his Zeus, albeit the father of the gods and mankind, is set before us at the same time with a blithe and benignant look throned in serenity of mature age, that is not in the first flush of youth, without, however, on the other hand emphasizing in the least any harshness of form or suggesting the feebleness of age. The most obvious parallels in form and gesture with Zeus are his brothers Neptune and Pluto, whose interesting statues in Dresden, for example, despite all that they share with him, nevertheless retain a clear line of distinction--Zeus himself, by virtue of the benignity of his lofty presence, Neptune, by virtue of his greater ruggedness, Pluto, who is a kindred type to the Egyptian Serapis, by virtue of his profounder gloom and melancholy.
Essentially more apart from Zeus are Bacchus and Apollo, Mars and Mercury, the first pair in their more youthful beauty and the greater delicacy of their figures, the second more masculine albeit beardless.
Mercury, too, is more robust, more slender in shape, with exceptional fineness noticeable in the facial traits. Mars is not so much marked out from the others as Hercules might be in the strength of his muscles and other parts of his figure, but rather as a more youthful and beautiful hero of an ideal form.
Among the goddesses I will only refer to Juno, Pallas, Diana, and Aphrodite.
Just as Zeus among the masculine deities, so, too, Juno among the feminine displays in her figure and its expression the greatest dignity. The large circular-arched eyes are proud and commanding, in like manner, too, the mouth by which she is at once recognized more particularly in profile. Generally she presents the appearance of "a queen, who will rule, is to be revered and must awaken devotion[186]."
Pallas, on the contrary, receives the expression of more austere maidenhood and chastity. Tenderness, love, and every kind of womanly weakness are kept away from her; her eyes are less expanded than those of Here, less emphatically arched and somewhat downcast in the tranquillity of reflection, just as her head is, which is not proudly erect as in the case of the spouse of Zeus, although it is armed with a helmet. A very similar type of maidenhood characterizes the figure of Diana. She is, however, endowed with a more fascinating quality, more lightly poised, more slender, albeit there is no self-conscious delight in her charm. She is not given the pose of tranquil observation, but is generally in motion, pressing forward as toward some object in her vision.
Finally we have Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty as such, who is, along with the Graces and the Hours, alone depicted by the Greek artists as undraped and even here subject to exceptions. In her case nudity is justified on the good ground that she expresses, above all, sensuous beauty and its conquest, grace, attractiveness, tenderness, elevated and tempered by spiritual qualities. Her eye, even in cases where a more grave and lofty expression is emphasized, is smaller than that of Pallas and Juno, not so much in length, but narrower by reason of the lower eyelid being slightly raised, by which means Love's yearning look is admirably expressed. She varies, however, very considerably in the type expressed. In some cases her pose is more serious and powerful; in others delicacy and tenderness are most insisted upon; her age, too, is sometimes that of maidenhood, at other of riper years. Winckelmann compares the Medicean Venus to a rose which blossoms in the fair light of its own colour at daybreak. Uranian Aphrodite is, on the contrary, indicated by a diadem which resembles that worn by Juno, and which Venus victrix also wears.
(_γ_) The discovery of this plastic individuality, whose entire expression is wholly elaborated through abstract form and nothing further, was in a like degree of consummate perfection peculiar to the Greeks and is due to religion itself. A more spiritual religion can rest satisfied with the contemplation and devotion of the soul, so that works of sculpture pass for it simply as so much luxury and superfluity. A religion so dependent on the sense vision as the Greek was must necessarily continue to create, inasmuch as for it this artistic production and invention is itself a religious activity and satisfaction, and for the people the sight of such works is not merely so much sight-seeing, but is part of their religion and soul-life.
And in general the Greeks did everything with a public and universal aim in view, in which every man discovered his enjoyment, pride, and honour. In this public aspect the art of the Greeks is not merely an ornamental object, but a vital thing that meets a really felt want, in much the same sort of way as that of painting in its most glorious season responded to the life of Venice. Only on grounds such as these can we find a rational explanation, if we consider the great difficulties which the technique of sculpture implies, for the host of sculptured figures, this forest of statues of every kind, which in their thousand and indeed thousands, were to be met with in _one_ single city, in Elis, in Athens, in Corinth, and even in towns of lesser importance, and in the same way in the greater Greece beyond and the islands of the Cyclades.
CHAPTER III DIFFERENT TYPES OF PRESENTMENT, MATERIAL, AND HISTORICAL STAGES IN THE EVOLUTION OF SCULPTURE.
We have hitherto in our inquiry in the first instance looked about us for the _general_ determinants, out of which it is possible to develop the most adequate content for sculpture and the form which best responds to it. We discovered the classical Ideal supplied this content, so that in the _second_ place we were called to establish the precise mode, in which sculpture among the particular arts is most readily adapted to give shape to this Ideal. Inasmuch as we found, moreover, that this Ideal is only to be comprehended in its essential import as _individuality_, not only did we find that the ideal outlook of the artist expand to a collective cyclus of ideal figures, but the external mode of representation and execution in actual works of art breaks up into _particular types_ of sculpture. In this latter direction we have still several points of view left us to discuss as follows: _First_, there is the manner of representation, which, in so far as actual execution is concerned, either creates single statues, or groups, until finally in the relief we are confronted with the step of transition to painting.
_Secondly_, there is the external medium, in which these distinctions are given actual effect to.
_Thirdly_, we have to deal with the historical stages of evolution, or the process within which works of art are executed in the various types and material.
1. THE SINGLE STATUE, THE GROUP AND THE RELIEF Just as, in the case of architecture, we made an essential distinction between independent building and that which was subservient we may also here establish a similar dividing line in sculpture, that is between such works that have an independent position and those which rather contribute to architectural decoration. In the case of the first the environment is nothing more than an artificially prepared locality, whereas in the latter cases their relation to the building which they adorn is of the first importance, and does not merely determine the form of the work of sculpture, but in a large measure even its content.
Speaking in a summary way we may assert in this respect that single statues are set up on their own account, while groups and _a fortiori_ reliefs tend to lose this independence and are utilized by architecture for its own artistic purposes.
(_a_) As to the single statue their original function is that of sculpture generally, that is to supply temple images as they are set up in the shrine of the temple, and all that surrounds them is in direct association with them.
(_α_) In such a case sculpture retains its most adequate purity. It displays the figure of the god apart from all situation, in beautiful, unimpaired, and inactive tranquillity, or at least free, unmolested, without definite action and development, such as I have on several occasions depicted, that is, in unconstrained situations.
(_β_) The earliest departure from this austere loftiness consists in this that the entire pose suggests the beginning of an action, or the conclusion of the same, without the godlike repose being thereby disturbed, or the figure being presented as in struggle or conflict.
We place under this type the famous Medicean Venus and the Belvedere Apollo. In the times of Lessing and Winckelmann the admiration of the critical world over these statues, as the highest Ideal of art, was unconditional; nowadays, since we have come to know works more vital and substantial in their configuration, and more profound in their expressive power, we must deduct somewhat from this estimate; critics, in fact, place them in an age somewhat subsequent to the great period, an age in which the smoothness of their elaborate workmanship already suggests that to please is the main object, and the genuine grand and severe style is not persisted in. An English traveller goes so far as to say that the Apollo is "a theatrical coxcomb," and while admitting that the Venus has extraordinary softness, sweetness, symmetry, and coy grace, yet only finds in this a spiritual quality that is wanting in much, a negative perfection, and--a good deal of insipidity. We may generally review that transition from the former more severe repose and holiness as follows. Sculpture is no doubt the art of lofty seriousness, but this elevated austerity of the gods, inasmuch as the same are no abstractions, but individual figures, brings with it the absolute blithesomeness, and thereby a reflex attitude to reality and finite life, in which the blithesomeness of the gods does not express the feeling of absorption in such finite content, but the feeling of reconciliation, of spiritual freedom and alertness.
(_γ_) In consequence of this Greek art is throughout permeated with all the blithesomeness of the Greek genius, and has found its satisfaction, delight, and an object for its activity in a countless number of gratifying situations. When it once had discovered a way from the constraint of the abstractions of its presentment to an appreciation of vital individuality, which is the unifying factor of the whole, its joy in all that is indicative of life and cheerfulness became a real thing, and artists became occupied with a great variety of subjects, which, without glancing aside at anything suggestive of pain, horror, distortion or injurious, fixed as its final limit unoffensive humanity and remained thus. The ancients have in this respect executed much of the greatest excellence. I will here only mention, among the many mythological subjects of playful, that is playful in the most innocent way, interest, the sports of Cupid, in which we already see a close approach to the ordinary life of mankind, just as there were others in which the vitality of the presentment is the main interest, and indeed the very attempt to secure and execute such subject-matter itself contributes this blithesomeness and innocence to the effect. In this kind of way we may point out that the dice-players and satellite of Polycleitus were thought quite as highly of as his Argive statue of Here. The discus-throwers and racers of Myron were equally famous. How dear to this folk, too, and admired is that youth in a seated posture who extracts a thorn from his foot? There were many others of the same type of production in great measure merely by name. We are face to face with the fleeting moment of natural existence, which is here arrested for ever by the sculptor.
(_b_) Beginning with examples such as the above of a movement towards external objects, sculpture proceeds further in the representation of situations, conflicts, and actions yet more involved with motion, and at last arrives at the group. For with an increase of specific detail in the action we have placed before us the more concrete animation, which expands in contradiction, reactions, and thereby, too, in the presence of several figures essentially related and intertwined with each other.
(_α_) At first we have, however, merely tranquil juxtapositions, such as, for example, the two colossal horse-tamers, which are set up in Rome on Mount Cavallo, and indicate Castor and Pollux. The one statue is commonly ascribed to Pheidias, the other to Praxiteles. There is, however, no strong evidence for this, although the extraordinary excellence of conception, and the no less exquisite thoroughness of the execution justifies names as famous. Such are entirely independent groups, which as yet express no real action, or the result of it, and are wholly appropriate as representations of sculpture and public exposition before the Parthenon, where it appears they were originally placed.
(_β_) Sculpture, however, is equally occupied in the group with the presentment of situations, which have as their content conflicts, discordant actions, pain, and other similar conditions. In this direction, too, we can only speak highly of the genuine artistic insight of the Greeks, which did not set forth such groups independently, and by themselves, but brought them, for the reason that sculpture has already made a departure from its peculiar, that is to say its self-subsistent, province, into closer relation to architecture. The temple figure, that is the isolated statue, stood in unimpaired tranquillity and sacredness within the inner shrine. The external pediment, on the contrary, was decorated with groups which represented definite actions of the god, and consequently admitted of more animated movement in its elaboration. The famous group of Niobe and her children is of this type. The general form for the co-ordination of each part is determined by the space which the group in question had to fill. The principal figure stood in the middle, and was thus able to be the largest in size and most prominent. The rest according as they were placed in the direction of the acute angle of the gable-end had to submit to other postures, the limit being reached by that of a reclining figure.
Of other famous works I will here only mention the Laocoon group.
It has now for over forty years been the object of much inquiry and controversy. In particular it has been regarded as a matter of real importance, whether Virgil in his description followed this work of sculpture, or the sculptor adopted his work to the scene depicted by Virgil, whether Laocoon here is actually crying out, and whether it is appropriate in a work of sculpture to attempt to express such a cry, and many more criticisms of this kind. Critics have worried themselves up and down with such matters of psychological interest for the simple reason that they have not as yet secured the sort of enthusiasm and critical acumen which Winckelmann possessed; and, moreover, arm-chair professors are more readily disposed for such investigations for the reason that not unfrequently they have neither the opportunity granted them to see real works of art, nor the capacity to grasp them for what they are when they do so. The most essential thing which can occupy our attention in this group is this namely, that in the supreme pain, the supreme truth, the convulsive tension of the body, the distention of all the muscles, the noble aspect of beauty is still preserved, and the process has not been carried in the remotest degree to the extremes of grimace, distortion, and over-strain. Despite of this, however, the entire work belongs without doubt--we have only to consider its subject-matter, the artificiality of its coordinate grouping, the disposition of each posed figure and the type of its elaboration--to a much later period, which already seeks to pass beyond simple beauty and vitality by means of a deliberate obtrusion of science in the configuration and muscular development of the human body, and no less is anxious to please by refined excess in its executive elaboration.
The step from the ingenuous ease and greatness of art to a mere mannerism is already taken.
(_γ_) Works of sculpture may be set forth in very various places, such as in the entrances to columned halls, forecourts, landings of staircases, niches, and so forth. It is just in this variety of local position and architectural setting, which, on its account too, is variously related to human circumstances and conditions, that the content and object of such works of art are for ever changing, approaching as such art does in the group yet more closely our humanity. It is, however, a serious defect to place groups that embody much movement and variety of figure on the top of a building without further background against the sky. In other words the colour of the sky may sometimes be gray, at others blue and dazzlingly bright, so that it is impossible to see the outlines of the figures. Yet these outlines, that is, the silhouette we find in them, is just what is most important; it is the main thing which we recognize, and which simply makes the rest intelligible. For in the case of a group we find that many portions stand in front relatively to others, an arm before the trunk of the body, or one leg in front of another. Now the fact of distance alone disturbs the clearness and intelligible articulation of such parts, or at least tends to do this more emphatically than in the case of outlined portions which are independent. We have only to imagine a group depicted on a piece of paper in which certain parts of a figure are strongly and sharply indicated, while others on the contrary are marked with lines of less defined and arresting definition. This is precisely the effect of a statue's lines, and yet more those of groups, which have no other background but that of the sky; in the latter case we only see a sharply indicated silhouette, in which, so far as what is within the compass of that outline, only relatively weaker articulation is visible.
This is the reason that, to take an example near home, the Victory on the Brandenburg gate in Berlin not only affects us strongly by virtue of its simplicity and repose, but can be readily followed through its separate figures. The horses, in fact, stand far from each other, without either of them impairing the view of the other; and similarly the figure of Victory rises sufficiently high above them. Conversely the Apollo drawn in a car by griffins, which we have on the Opera House, is less satisfactory from this point of view, however artistic the entire conception and technical work may be in other respects. By the favour of a friend I saw these figures before they were taken from the workshop. The effect promised was noble. But as we see them now at such a height, we have far too much of one outline partly obscuring another, which in its turn is backed by something else, and consequently is less freely and clearly silhouetted than would be the case were all the figures silhouetted in their simple outlines[187].
The griffins, which necessarily, on account of their shorter legs, do not stand up either so highly or so freely as horses, have wings into the bargain, and Apollo, too, has his tuft of hair and his lyre. All this detail is too much for the position, and only tends to make the outlines obscure.
(_c_) The final mode of representation, in which sculpture makes an important step in the direction of the principle of painting is the _relief_; in the first instance the high-relief, and after it the low-relief. The condition here is the surface, the figures standing on one and the same plane, so that the spatial totality of the figure, which is the point of departure of sculpture, more and more tends to disappear. The older form of relief, however, does not as yet approximate so closely to painting, which involves distinctions of perspective between the foreground and background, but rather holds fast to the surface or plane as such without permitting the different objects to project into or to retire within the distinctions of their spatial position by means of an artificial reduction of size. In the present case figures in profile are preferred, and they are placed side by side on an even surface. A simple treatment of this kind does not admit the content of complicated actions, but actions which in real life already adopt more or less of one and the same line of motion, processions of all kinds, whether those of sacrifice or Olympian victors or others. Add to this the relief is capable of the greatest variety of form. It not only fills up and decorates the friezes and walls of temples, but is attached to utensils of all kinds, sacrificial bowls, votive gifts, shells, goblets, urns, lamps, and so forth; it is the adornment of seats and tripods, and is closely allied to the skilled crafts. Here as nowhere else the ingenuity of invention receives the fullest scope in every kind of form and combination, and is no longer in position to retain the true object of independent sculpture.
2. THE MATERIAL OF SCULPTURE We have, by our acceptance of the principle of individuality, which is fundamental to sculpture, been compelled not merely to emphasize in separation the different provinces of the divine, human and natural, from which plastic art accepts its subject-matter, but also to classify the several modes of presentation in the single statue, group, or relief. In the same way we have to discover a like variety of division in the _material_ which the artist can make use of in his works. For different kinds of content and mode of presentation are more particularly congenial to different kinds of sensuous material, and betray a secret attraction to and affinity with such.
By way of generalization I will merely here permit myself the remark that the ancients, in addition to the extraordinary excellence of their invention, equally excite our astonishment by reason of the amazing elaboration and versatility of their technical accomplishment. Both aspects present an equal difficulty in sculpture, because the means at hand here for such presentation are without the ideal many-sidedness, which is at the disposal of the other arts. Architecture is no doubt poorer still in this respect; but it is not her province to embody spirit in its vitality, or what is actually alive in Nature in a material which is by itself wholly inorganic. This elaborate dexterity in the absolutely consummate treatment of pure material is, however, bound up with the notion of the Ideal itself, for its very principle is a complete entrance into the sensuous concreteness and the blending together of the Ideal with its external mode of existence. The same principle is therefore once again asserted, where the Ideal attains its executed form and realization. In this respect we have no reason to wonder, when it is asserted that artists, in periods distinguished by great executive ability, either executed their works of marble in clay without models, or, if they had recourse to them, set about their work in a much freer and unconstrained manner than is the case in our own times, where, to put the fact bluntly, it only makes copies which are now executed in marble after originals carried out in the clay[188].
The old artists retained in fact the vital enthusiasm, which is always to a more or less extent lost in the case of copies and replicas, although it is undeniable that now and again we meet with defective work in famous masterpieces, as, for example, eyes that are not of the same size, ears one of which is placed lower than the other, feet that are of unequal length and others of the same kind. They did not lay so much stress on the absolute precision of the compass in such things as ordinary production and art criticism, that mediocrity of talent which imagines itself so profound, is wont to do; and it can do little else.
(_a_) Among the different materials in which sculptors have executed images of gods, wood is one of the most ancient. A trunk, a post at the top of which a head can be indicated, such was the beginning.
Among the earliest examples of the temple image many are of wood, but the material was also used even in the days of Pheidias. The colossal Minerva of Pheidias at Plataea was mainly carved from wood which was gilded, the head, hands, and feet being of marble[189]; Myron, too[190], executed a Hecate out of wood here with only one head and body, and no doubt for Aegina, where Hecate was most revered and a festival took place annually in her honour, a festival which the Aeginetans maintained the Thracian Orpheus had inaugurated for them.
Generally speaking, wood, when it is not covered over with gilding or some other precious material, by reason of its texture and the grain of it, appears too fine a material for works of importance and more appropriate to smaller figures, for which purpose it was frequently used in the Middle Ages, and is still thus utilized nowadays.
(_b_) Other materials of most importance are _ivory_, associated with (_α_) As is well known, Pheidias employed ivory and gold for his masterpieces, such as his Olympian Zeus, and also for his famous colossal Athene in the Acropolis of Athens, who carried on her hand an image of Victory, itself being larger than life-size. The nude portions of the body were made out of sheets of ivory, the drapery and mantle from gold plates, which could be removed. This type of workmanship in yellowish ivory and gold dates from a period in which statues were coloured, a kind of representation which steadily approximated to the one colour tone of bronze and marble. Ivory is an extremely pure material, smooth and without the granular character of marble, and, moreover, costly. And among the Athenians the costliness of the statues of their gods was itself of importance. The Pallas at Plataea had merely a superficial gilding, that at Athens solid metal plates. The statues had to be both of colossal size and of the richest material. Quatremère de Quincy has written a masterly work upon these works, upon the "toreutic" of the ancients. "Toreutic"--τορεύειν, τόρευμα--is primarily applicable to figures whose lines are brought out by engraving in metal, or cutting of some kind such as cut stones; one uses the expression, however, to indicate entire works or parts of entire works in metal, which are executed by means of moulds and the founder's art, that is, not by means of engraving, then, still more remotely from the original meaning, of superb figures on earthenware utensils, and finally in the widest sense of mouldings[191] on bronze. Quatremère's researches have particularly been directed to the technical aspect of the execution; he calculates what must have been the size of the plates made of elephants' tusks, and, among other things, how much space, in proportion to the gigantic dimensions of the figure, they would leave covered. From another point of view he is equally concerned to reproduce for us from the sketches, or other evidence[192] we possess from antiquity, a drawing of the seated figure of Zeus, and, most of all, the great chair with its rich decorations of bas-reliefs, and by so doing to give us in every respect some conception of the splendour and perfection of the work.
In the Middle Ages ivory is mainly used for smaller works of very varied character, such as Christ on the Cross and the Virgin Mary, or yet again for drinking vessels with scenes of hunting and the like, in which cases ivory, on account of its smoothness and hardness, is in many respects preferable to wood.
(_β_) The material which was most favoured and most widely employed by the ancients was bronze, in the casting of which it attained a success of the highest mastery. Preeminently during the period of Myron and Polycletus it was the prevailing material utilized in statues of deities and other kinds of sculpture. The darker, less defined colour, the sheen, the smoothness of bronze generally, has not reached the abstract formality of the white marble, and it is at the same time warmed. The bronze which the ancients used was partly gold and silver, partly copper, varying considerably in the degrees of its component parts. The so-called bronze of Corinth is, for example, a composition unique of its kind which originated after the burning of Corinth from the almost incredible wealth of this city in statues and vessels of bronze. Mummius had many statues carried off on his ships; and the excellent man was so full of anxiety for their safe deliverance in Rome that he informed the captain that in case of loss he must recreate the same exactly or suffer, such was the threat, heavy punishment. In the founding of bronze the ancients attained an incredible mastery, by aid of which it was possible to them to cast it securely despite its extreme thinness. It is possible to regard such a feat as merely a matter of technical dexterity which is unconnected with true art. Every artist, however, works upon a certain material, and it is an essential quality of genius to be complete master of the same. Dexterity and adaptability in matters which concern the technique and instruments of its work constitute one distinct aspect of genius. On account of this virtuosity in the founder's art a work of sculpture in this medium involved a less expensive process, and was in the reach of a larger number than the chiselling out of marble statues. A second advantage,