1839.] 



THE CIVIL ENGINEER AND ARCHITECTS JOURNAL, 



251 



literary as graphical, of the Ciolliic era, there is a constant and ludicrous 

 confusion of costume, both ])livsical and moral. Joshua stalks in plate 

 armour; the daughter of Herodias dances and tumbles on her head ; 

 the temple of Jerusalem is built with the belfry of a cathedral. No 

 inconsistency was perceived. Guillaume de Lorris describes the 

 church of St. Venus ; Parson Cupid mounts the pulpit ami preaches a 

 sermon, and the choristers and canons chaunt anthems and psahns. 

 Absurdities like these, arose from ignorance and bad taste ; they can- 

 not be condemned too strongly. But let us be impartial, if we can. 

 Perhaps information and classical taslc, as it is called in connnon par- 

 lance, produce equivalent absurdities. Onr artists often violate pro- 

 priety with as much boldness as the much reviled Gothic artists. They 

 disguise their contemporaries in the costume of Greece and Rome. 

 They people the aisles of the church with the lifeless mythology of 

 Olympus. An incessant war is thus waged against reason and pro- 

 priety — Do they not forget the great object of their art ?— The object 

 of art is to satisfy the reason. Skill may be displayed in the carving 

 of the statue ; the limbs may be moulded .with faidtless accuracy ; 

 they may emulate Grecian symmetry : but more, much more than such 

 qualities, is wanting. Unless the sculptor labours to meet (he ideas of 

 those who range at the opposite extremes of mental cultixation, he is 

 not imbued with the true spirit of his art, he is a mere workman still. 

 He must satisfy those men wdio are his friends and companions, the 

 lovers of his art, by the spirit of poetiy which he infuses into the re- 

 presentation of nature. He mast idealize the countenance, the attitude, 

 tlic garb, so as to breathe into the figure a spirit of gracefulness beyond 

 the triteness of common life. This is no easy task, and the statue 

 must prove tliat the artist has overcome the difiiculty without destroy- 

 ing the illusion which it is essentially necessary that the art should 

 produce. If we may so express ourselves, he should sculpture in a 

 style analogous to blank verse, avoiding the prose of conversation, and 

 the rhyme of French tragedy. But having effected this end, he nuist, 

 nevertheless continue perfectly significant to the unirapassioned, unin- 

 structed spectator, who asks for nothing but the representation of the 

 common form; to him who is merely seeking for the memorial of the 

 King, the Matron, the Commander, whose memory he loves, or w hose 

 fame he admires. Works of art are peculiarly addressed to such 

 spectators. A puljlic monument is a book opened for the perusal of 

 the multitude ; unless it declares its meaning fully, plainly, and sensi- 

 bly, the main use is lost. This principle is so self-evident that it is 

 almost uraiecessarj' to discuss it. And yet how many grand statues, 

 groups and cenotaphs have been cast, chiselled, modelled, and manu- 

 factured, in which this plain and first intention is wholly lost ! 



We may here be allowed to relate a true story, which in itself, as 

 well as in its consequences, atfords a volume of instruction. Some 

 years ago a sculptor, wiiose genius may justly be a subject of national 

 exultation, happened to be present at Guildhall when Nelson's monu- 

 ment was first exposed to view. A child who stood before him, was 

 exceedingly attentive from the moment when the canvass began to 

 fall before the marble. The boy looked anxiously at the statues as 

 they appeared. When they were completely unveiled, he could not 

 jiossibly conceive that the obscure medallion on the lap of Britannia 

 c(mtained the likeness of the naval hero : so he cried out in a tone of 

 mixed inquiry and of disappointment, whilst he pointed at Oceaims, — 

 "Father, is Ma< Lord Nelson?" — The sea god, the most prominent 

 figure of the group, naturally seemed to be the personage in whose 

 honour it was erected ; but how could the bearded naked giant be the 

 British admiral ? The Guildhall cenotaph is of miserable workman- 

 ship, but the just censure conveyed by the exclamation of the child, 

 was not lost upon Chauntrey, wdto was then at the beginning of the 

 career in which he has since bounded forward. And his productions, 

 wliich will hereafter form an sera in the history of English art, prove 

 how successfully real genius can discard conventional aids. 



Moderate artists resort to graphic allegory for the same reason that 

 jioetical allegory has been fa\'oured by poetasters. It is protected by 

 the harmless graces of mediocrity. AHbrding a convenient help to 

 poverty of invention, it insjiires a decorous kind of traditionary respect. 

 We are accustomed to it, and, without much inquiry, its use seems to 

 be sanctioned by the example of a few greflt men who have employed 

 such representations with success in particular instances, not reducible 

 to general rules. Michael Angelo may be allowed to place Day and 

 Night on the sepulchre. War and Peace, as they are engrafted Ijy 

 Westmacott on the Wellington vase, add to the s'ignificancy of the 

 trophy. Sin and Death are embodied by Milton. Yet precedents like 

 these forbid imitation, except by the equals of the mighty masters. 

 We have partly confessed this truth by abandoning all heathen mytho- 

 logy and allegory in lit erature. Neitlier Mars nor Belloira are invoked 

 in rhyme to aid the slaughter; and Hymen and his aitar, and Cupid 

 and his bow, are never seen in colours except upon the Valentine. 



Allegory lias ken wiivUj' j-eimdirttecl by tUe pget m\ tlie piuoter, m\ 



in process of time the sculptor will follow their example. Bui, unfor- 

 tunately, in all branches of the fine arts, bad taste and pedantry retain 

 an inveterate hold. Books which are not worth reading soon cease to 

 be read ; but works of art which are not worth seeing do not easily 

 cease to be seen. Versifiers outlive their trash ; wdiilst the produc- 

 tions born in the Grub-street of art, continue, in spite of their recog- 

 nized worthlessness, to exercise some gentle intluence over some 

 docile imitator. As long as they continue to be a part of our common 

 stock of visible objects, they pervert the taste of the artist as well as 

 of the crowd. The eye easily acquires Irad habits : bad examples 

 haunt the imagination of the artist, and intluence him when he thinks 

 he is a free agent. Every glaring ]ncture, or ranting statue, is sure to 

 become the fruitful prototype of an hundred affiliated deformities. 



We have hitherto spoken only of ecclesiastical buildings. Public 

 monuments of another (.lescripfion must now be considered. At the 

 conclusion of the war the legislatiu'e considered the propriety of erect- 

 ing some memorial which might perpetuate the memory of the events* 

 of the mighty c-ontiict. Various plans for naval and military monu- 

 ments were designed, but no one has yet been adopted, because the 

 money voted by parliament has never been raised. * * * 



As similar causes in the physical world always produce similar 

 effects, it may appear reasonable to suppose that the form of a 

 beautiful specimen of architectiue, which has afforded a very plea- 

 surable sensation to the spectator, will always retain that power. An 

 exact copy of a pleasing original, when repeated or created anew, 

 may be anticipated to produce the same degree of gratification as it 

 did in its original place. However, when the architect acts upon these- 

 premises he is usually disappointed. There are cases, unquestionably, 

 when satisfactory results will follow from such imitations ; but a slight 

 consideration of the nature of architecture will convince us that they 

 are of rare occurrence, and that any close or servile imitation of ii 

 supposed "perfect model" must usually prove a complete failm'e. 



Architecture produces its eft'ect upon the mind q\ute as much as 

 upon the eye. Its forms are understood by the intellect, not merely 

 painted upon the retina. The pleasures which it excites arise from 

 complicated sources ; they spring from the thoughts which we bestow 

 upon the object, and not merely from the contemplation of the form. 

 This assertion may be easily exemplified. A building which we, /iiw/o 

 to be constracted of Canada deals and cast iron pipes, daubed with 

 "lithic paint" or "patent mastick," wdll never 2)lease us as much as if 

 it were raised of freestone. The lines may have the same elegance, 

 but we camiot disjoin the ideas of grandeur and of durability ; and the 

 notion of the instability and slightness of the flimsey edifice derogates 

 from its consequence. Besides w hich, when we look at a building, we 

 are gratified by considering the labour and skill of its construction. 

 We like to see the firm and regular courses of vvell-sqimred stone, the 

 shaft compacted with the caiiital, the wedge stones balancing eacli 

 other in the arcli ; but when the nraterials pretend to perform a part; 

 which does not belong to their nature, then we are offended by the de- 

 ception, at least we receive but a very small proportion of the jdeasure 

 which their forms would have given if executed in the genuine sub- 

 stance. From the centre of the pit the actress looks as tine as the 

 lady in the boxes ; but we do not think that she is equally well dressed, 

 because we are aware that instead of diamonds, gold, and silk, she is 

 tricked out with glass, tinsel, and gauze, with things that assume to be 

 that which they are not, with trompiric. Every deception in architec- 

 ture becomes a blemish which the mind does not pardon. Windows, 

 which exclude the light; doors wdiich caimot be opened; twisted 

 colunms which could not stand beneath their superstructure ; columns 

 bearing nothing ; passages leading to nothing ; are imperfections whicli 

 are obvious to the most inattentive or uneducated obser\er. They arc 

 deformities, because they are of no use ; otherwise the idle imposts or 

 columns, wdiich please when properly applied, would have as nuich 

 inherent Ijeauty — so far as beauty depends upon form — in one situation 

 as in another. But if we cease to derive satisfaction from the parts 

 of a building on account of their false bearing to the whole, can we 

 be better satisfied wdien the entire building, the " perfect model," is a 

 falsehood ? Every structiu'e raised by the hand of man, derixes its 

 entire value from the feelings of the human heart- The hearth 

 gives sanctity to the dwelling; the throne, to the palace ; the altar to 

 the temple. But if w'e erect dwellings, palaces, or temples, whicli 

 never can be used by human kind, the walls will rise in cheerless and 

 ilesolate mockery. A perfect modern model of the most perfect 

 Doric temple, if not applied to some purpose beyond mere ornament, 

 would excite no other feelings than those of laboiu' in vain. No per- 

 son of common sense ever was satisfied with a temple in a garden ; we 

 know it is built merely for a show, and as a show we undervalue and 

 despise it. 



It may be asked in wliat manner we are to commemorate national 

 vittoiitsi Certrtiji'y uvt by wlwt ars called " iiivjuinitiits," uvt by 



