OF THE FINE ARTS. 



xxzi 



in one vast harmony the three arts in which he 

 excelled, probably injured his fame as a sculptor : 

 to create groups and figures which instead of 

 being lost in the breadth and magnificence of his 

 architecture should stand out not second but 

 first, was the task which he assigned to himself, 

 and this forced him upon the gigantic and the 

 picturesque more than it is likely he wished. 

 His merits may be summed up by the attestation 

 of Flaxman, who studied his works for years in 

 the heart of Rome. " In the Capella Sistini the 

 sublimity of subjects and characters, the several 

 patriarchal groups, of incomparable interest and 

 beauty, all original, and unlike any production 

 of antiquity, with that wonderful altar-piece of 

 the Last Judgment, form, together, a labour that 

 seems scarcely the work of man, and stands 

 without a rival in ancient or modern art." 



Whilst these wonders were achieving by paint- 

 ing and sculpture, architecture was not neglected. 

 Many noble buildings were erected in various 

 parts of Europe, in which the simplicity and 

 beauty of Grecian architecture were supposed to 

 be revived. Yet this was rather an application 

 of the Grecian orders to a composite style of 

 building, than an express revival of the old. 

 The Gothic spirit prevailed on the earth ; some- 

 thing picturesque and lofty was required ; and 

 as this could not be obtained by one line of 

 columns, two or three were employed, and struc- 

 tures rose into the air in which the Doric sup- 

 ported the Ionic, and the Ionic the Corinthian, 

 till the clouds were scaled, and it was believed 

 and asserted that a triumph had been obtained 

 for Christian churches over the heathen tem- 

 ples. This triumph was, however, achieved at 

 the expense of unity, simplicity, and propriety. 

 The principles of the Gothic architecture allow 

 vast altitude ; nor are the proportions lost by 

 expansion ; and, what is equally important, the 

 materials out of which all this is achieved still 

 continue obedient to the hand of man. Not so 

 the Grecian architecture. To elevate a temple, 

 according to the true principles of ancient art, 

 requires, with an increase of height in the 

 columns, an augmentation of size in the stones ; 

 and before the portico can obtain an elevation 

 of an hundred feet, the materials have become 

 nearly too heavy for human handling. All this 

 was perceived by the Christian architects ; and 

 they imagined they had vanquished the difficulty 

 when they placed one row of columns above 

 another. As far as picturesque splendour is 

 useful, they succeeded ; but they succeeded at 

 the expense of propriety and truth. The porticos 

 and colonnades of the Grecian temples were 

 useful as well as beautiful ; for in Greece they 



made nothing without a meaning. Men found 

 shelter there from sunshine or from shower ; and, 

 that their time might not be wasted, historical 

 sculptures extended all around, reminding them 

 of the deeds of heroes and the acts of the gods. 

 But under the second row of columns, and within 

 the upper porticos, of the new style of architec- 

 ture, birds and angels alone could find shelter. 

 Look at the front of Whitehall and the porticos 

 of St Paul's, and say, of what use, save to be 

 looked at, or wondered at, are those columns and 

 friezes. The world abounds with such examples 

 of modern invention. They are beautiful, it is 

 true ; and it may be a question whether such 

 elevations could have been achieved by Grecian 

 principles and British materials ; for blocks of 

 stone, of seventy or eighty tons' weight, are not 

 produced in every quarry, and cannot be raised 

 a hundred feet high in the air by common 

 machines. Inigo Jones, in his Corinthian por- 

 tico of the old St Paul's, had to wait long for, 

 and at last obtained with difficulty, a block, of 

 some thirty tons' weight, to cover the opening 

 between the central columns. That architects 

 persevere in this composite or hermaphrodite 

 style of art, is to be accounted for by their 

 proper admiration of the temples of Greece and 

 Italy. They seek to compound the matter with 

 the Gothic predilections of the present Christian 

 nations of the earth ; and the result is something 

 which men admire and find serviceable, but the 

 propriety and meaning of which it would be 

 dangerous to discuss. 



A great and a sudden change was now at hand. 

 All historians and lovers of art unite in saying 

 that painting, sculpture, and architecture, under 

 the fostering care of the Romish church, had 

 nearly reached perfection, when the Reformation 

 destroyed at once the unity of the Christian 

 religion, and arrested art in its upward career. 

 How this came to pass, need not be described 

 minutely. The discovery of printing diffused 

 knowledge ; men were enabled to see with their 

 own eyes ; and as Scripture was written so that 

 all might read, the light of the gospel suddenly 

 burst over the land. Wise and scrupulous men 

 began to compare the simplicity of the primitive 

 church with the splendour of that of Rome. 

 They could not shut their eyes to the difference 

 between the Saviour of the world riding into 

 Jerusalem on an ass, and his infallible majesty, 

 the pope, seated amid the magnificence of 

 modern Rome, summoning princes to his pre- 

 sence, exacting tribute from all nations, and 

 holding in one hand the key of heaven, and in 

 the other that of hell. The use of inmges, too, 

 and pictures, had been sadly abused. At first, 



