In the frieze, however, it is represented that the god is on shore quietly amusing himself with the lion (Fig. 49), while satyrs and sileni punish the robbers by beating them with sticks and chasing them with fury, while they are turning gradually into dolphins and rushing into the sea. The design is so fine that it might easily be attributed to one of the best sculptors; but the execution is careless, and this is not strange when we remember that it was all done at the expense of one man, and he a private citizen.

We will return now to the Peloponnesian school, of which Polycleitus was the head in its earliest period. After his time the sculptors of his school continued to prefer the subjects in which he excelled, and represented youthful heroes and victors with as much industry as the artists of Athens bestowed upon their statues of womanly grace and beauty. The subjects of the Peloponnesian school were especially suited to the use of bronze, and the chief sculptor of his time, LYSIPPUS, whose works are said to have numbered fifteen hundred, worked entirely in bronze. In order to keep a record of the number of his works, he adopted the plan of putting aside one gold coin from the price of every statue, and at his death his heirs are said to have found the above number of these coins thus laid away. His home was at Sicyon, and his time of work is given as B.C. 372-316. This seems a long period for active employment as a sculptor; but the number of his works accords well with this estimate of his working years.



Lysippus cannot be said to have followed any school; he was original, and this trait made him prominent, for he was not bound by old customs, but was able to adapt himself to the new spirit of the age, which came to Greece with the reign of Alexander. This sculptor made a great number of statues of Hercules; and as Alexander loved to regard himself as a modern Hercules, Lysippus also represented the monarch in many different ways, and with much the same spirit as that he put into the statues of the hero-god. For example, he made a statue of "Alexander with his Spear," "Alexander at a Lion Hunt," "Alexander as the Sun-God," and so on through many changes of expression and attributes, but all being likenesses of the great king. There is in the Capitol at Rome a head of Alexander called Helios, which is thought by many critics to be the best bust of him in existence. There are metal rays fastened to the head; it has a wild, Bacchus-like air, and the hair is thrown back, as if he had shaken his head furiously; and the defect of a wry neck, which the monarch had, is cleverly concealed by this motion. Alexander was a very handsome man, his faults being this twist in his neck and a peculiar shape of the eye.

We cannot here give the long list of works by Lysippus, but will speak of that which interests us most, because we have a beautiful copy of it. I mean the Apoxyomenos, which is in the Vatican. It represents a youth scraping himself (as the name denotes) with the strigil after a contest in the arena (Fig. 50). The Vatican copy was found in the Trastevere at Rome in 1849, and is well preserved. Without doubt it is a faithful reproduction of the original, which was probably brought from Greece to Rome by Agrippa, who set it up in front of his public baths. Here it became such a favorite with the people that when Tiberius removed it to his own house there was a demonstration in the theatre, and so violent a demand was made for its restoration that the cunning emperor dared not refuse. This statue may be called an example of a grand genre style. It represents a scene from common life in Greece, but it is so simply natural, so graceful and free from restraint, that one could not weary of it. The expression of the face is that of quiet content—his task has been faithfully done, and the remembrance of it is pleasant. The hair is finely executed; this was a point in which Lysippus excelled; but the great charm of the whole is in the pose of the figure. In his occupation of scraping one portion of the body after another he must constantly change his position, and this one, in which he can rest but a moment, seems to have the motion in it which he must almost instantly make, while it is full of easy grace in itself. The art of Lysippus was not as elevated as that of Phidias, who tried to represent the highest ideal which a mortal may form of a god; but there was nothing mean or vulgar in the works of the former; on the contrary, it was with a pure and noble spirit that he endeavored to represent the perfections of youthful, manly beauty, and his naturalism was of a healthy and dignified sort.

The most important pupil of Lysippus was CHARES OF LINDOS, who was prominent not only on account of his own works, but also because he introduced the art of Sicyon into his native island of Rhodes. This island is but forty-five miles long and twenty miles wide at its broadest part, and yet its art became second only to that of Athens.

At the city of Rhodes alone there were three thousand statues, besides many paintings and other rare and beautiful objects. Chares is best known for the sun-god which he erected here; it was called the "Colossus of Rhodes," and was reckoned as one of the seven wonders of the world. One hundred statues of the sun were erected at Rhodes, and Pliny says that any one of them was beautiful enough to have been famous; but that of Chares was so remarkable that it overshadowed all the rest.

It stood quite near the entrance to the harbor of Rhodes, but we have no reason to believe that its legs spanned the mouth of the port so that ships sailed between them, as has often been said, although its size was almost beyond our imagination. The statue was one hundred and five feet high, and few men could reach around one of its thumbs with their arms, while each finger was as large as most statues. Twelve years were occupied in its erection, from B.C. 292 to 280, and it cost three hundred talents, or about $300,000 of our money, according to its usual estimate, though there are those who name its cost as more than four times that amount. The men of Rhodes obtained this great sum by selling the engines of war which Demetrius Poliorcetes left behind him when he abandoned the siege of Rhodes in B.C. 303. We have no copy of this statue, but there are coins of Rhodes which bear a face that is believed with good reason to be that of the Colossus.

Fifty-six years after its completion, in B.C. 224, the Colossus was overthrown by an earthquake, and an oracle forbade the restoration of it by the Rhodians. In A.D. 672, nearly a thousand years after its fall, its fragments were sold to a Jew of Emesa by the command of the Caliph Othman IV. It is said that they weighed seven hundred thousand pounds, and nine hundred camels were required to bear them away. When we consider what care must have been needful to cast this huge figure in bronze, and so adjust the separate parts that the whole would satisfy the standard of art at Rhodes, we are not surprised that it should have been reckoned among the seven wonders, and that Chares should have become a famous master.

Chares also founded a school of art which became very important, and, indeed, it seems to have been the continuance of the school of the Peloponnesus; for after the time of Lysippus the sculpture of Argos and Sicyon came to an end, and we may add that with Lysippus and his school the growth of art in Greece ceased; it had reached the highest point to which it ever attained, and all its later works were of its decline, and foreshadowed its death.

The reign of Alexander the Great was so brilliant that it is difficult to realize that it was a time of decline to the Greeks; and during the life of Alexander perhaps this does not appear with clearness; but at the close of his reign there arose such contentions and troubles among his generals that everything in Greece suffered, and with the rest Greek art was degraded. In the time of Pericles it was thought to be a crime in him that he permitted his portrait to be put upon the shield of the Parthenon, and he was prosecuted for thus exalting himself to a privilege which belonged to the gods alone. Alexander, on the contrary, claimed to be a god, and was represented by painters and sculptors until his portraits and statues were almost numberless.

Soon after the death of Alexander the humiliation of Athens and its old Periclean spirit was complete. If you read the history of Demetrius Poliorcetes, who was even allowed to hold his revels in the most sacred part of the Parthenon—the temple of Minerva—you will see that Athens was enslaved and her people no longer worthy to lead the world in the arts of peace, as they were no longer the brave men who could stand first in war. In their degraded state the Athenians suffered three hundred and sixty statues to be erected to Demetrius Phalereus, and these were destroyed to make way for the golden images of the conquering freebooter Poliorcetes. This last was hailed by the debased people as a god and a saviour. His name and that of his father, Antigonus, were woven into the sacred peplos.

At length, under the Diadochi, or successors of Alexander, order was restored, and Antigonus, Ptolemy, Seleucus, and Lysimachus divided the kingdom of Alexander into four Graeco-Oriental monarchies. The dynasty of the Ptolemies in Egypt was the most reputable of these, and gave much encouragement to art and letters. But the sacred fire seems to have died out, or did not burn clearly when transplanted from Athens to Alexandria. The Alexandrines seem to have been mere imitators of what had gone before, and there is nothing to be said of them that is of importance enough for us to linger over it. Very few works remain from this Diadochean period. The Metope of Ilium, which Dr. Schliemann has in his garden in Athens, the Barberini Faun, in the Glyptothek at Munich, and the Nile of the Vatican are the most important remnants of Alexandrine sculpture.

Amid all the confusion and strife which followed the death of Alexander the island of Rhodes remained undisturbed, and when the division of the monarchies was made the Rhodians still retained their independence. They were neutral, and so had a commerce with all the monarchies, and thus gained great wealth; and theirs was the only independent State of the old Hellenic world which was able to found and maintain a school of art. Among the great works of the Rhodian artists none is more familiar to us than the group of the Laocoon.

In the time of Pliny this work stood in the palace of Titus, and the historian called it "preferable to all other works of pictorial or plastic art." There is a difference of opinion as to the period when it was made, and many date it in the time of Titus, who lived A.D. 40 to 81. But the weight of argument seems to me to rest with those who believe that it was made at Rhodes in the time of the Diadochi.

The group in the Vatican is probably a copy, because Pliny says that the original was made of one block, and that of the Vatican is composed of six pieces. Pliny also tells us that the Laocoon was the work of three sculptors, AGESANDER, POLYDORUS, and ATHENODORUS. The Vatican group was found in 1506 in the excavation of the Baths of Titus, in Rome, and was placed in its present position by Pope Julius II. (Fig. 51). The right arm of Laocoon was missing, and Michael Angelo attempted to restore it, but left it incomplete; Montorsoli made an unsatisfactory attempt for its restoration, and the arm as it now is was made by Cornacini, and more straight than it should be.

The story which these statues illustrate is told in the second book of the AEneid, and says that Laocoon was a priest of Apollo at Troy, who, when the Greeks left the wooden horse outside the city and pretended to sail away, warned the Trojans against taking the horse inside the walls; he also struck his spear into the side of the monster. But Sinon, who had been left behind by the Greeks, persuaded the Trojans that the horse would prove a blessing to them, and they drew it into the city, and ordered feasts and sacrifices to be celebrated to do honor to the occasion. Laocoon had much offended Pallas Athene by his words and acts, and when he went to prepare a sacrifice to Neptune that goddess sent two huge serpents up out of the sea to destroy him and his two sons, who were with him by the altar. When the three victims were dead the fearful creatures went to the Acropolis and disappeared.



In the Laocoon group it appears that the eldest son will save himself, and in certain minor points the sculptors seem not to have followed the account of Virgil; but we see that it must be the same story that is illustrated, and we know that it was told with some variation by other poets. This group is a wonderful piece of sculpture, but it is not of the highest art, and it is far from pleasant to look at. The same is true of another famous group which is in Naples, and which is also from the Rhodian school.

I mean the Farnesian Bull, or the Toro Farnese. This group was made by APOLLONIUS and TAURISCUS, who are believed to have been brothers. It was probably made at Tralles, in Caria, which was their native place, and sent by them to Rhodes, the great art-centre; from Rhodes it was sent to Rome, where it was in the possession of Asinius Pollio. This splendid group, which is probably the original work, was found in the Baths of Caracalla, in 1546, and was first placed in the Farnese Palace, from which it was removed to the National Museum in Naples, in 1786 (Fig. 52).

This group tells a part of the story of Dirce, who had incurred the hatred and displeasure of Antiope, the mother of Amphion, who was King of Thebes and the husband of Niobe. In order to appease the wrath of his mother, Amphion, with the aid of his twin-brother Zethus, bound Dirce to the horns of a wild bull to be dashed to pieces. All this takes place on Mount Cithaeron, and it is said that after Dirce had suffered horrible agonies the god Dionysus changed her into a fountain, which always remains upon this mountain.

In this piece of sculpture, dreadful as the idea is, there is less of horror than in the Laocoon, for the reason that the moment chosen is that just before the climax of the catastrophe, while in the Laocoon it is in its midst. The latter group is made to be seen from but one side, and was probably intended for a niche; but the Farnese Bull is perfect, and presents a finished aspect on all sides and from every point of view. There are numerous accessories and much attention to detail, while the rocky base represents Mount Cithaeron and the wildness of the scene in a manner not before known in sculpture. The group has been much restored, but its excellences support the theory of its being the original work of the Greek artists, and the skill with which the various figures are brought into one stupendous moment is such as commands great praise and admiration; it is doubtful if any other work of sculpture tells its story with power equal to that of this celebrated group.



After the art of Rhodes that of Pergamon was important. When Attalus I., King of Pergamon, gained his victory over the Gauls, in B.C. 229, the Greek artists were aroused to new efforts to record in sculpture the great deeds of Attalus and to place him on a level with the glorious heroes of their nation who had preceded him. It is recorded that the conqueror himself offered four groups of statues at Athens, and that they stood on the southern wall of the Acropolis. The subjects were: "The Battle of the Gods and Giants," "The Battle of Athenians and Amazons," "The Battle of Marathon," and "The Destruction of the Gauls in Mysia by Attalus." Thus the different epochs of Greek history were represented, and Attalus placed himself near the other great warriors who had preserved the honor and freedom of their nation. These groups consisted of many figures, and are estimated to have been from sixty to eighty in number. It is believed that at least ten of them are now in European collections—that is, three in Venice, four in Naples, one in Paris, one in the Vatican, and the last in the Castellani collection in Rome. This picture of one of those in Venice seems to represent a warrior who has been suddenly thrown down; his weapons and shield—which last was probably held in the left hand—have been dropped in the violence of the shock which has prostrated him (Fig. 53). His face and hair are of the barbarian type, and the power and elasticity of his powerful frame are manifest even in this moment of his defeat. He is yet unwounded, but the weapon of his adversary may be before his eyes, and in another moment he may sink back in the agony of death.



It is now believed that the statue of the Dying Gaul, often called the Dying Gladiator, was the work of a sculptor of Pergamon, and represents a Gaul who has killed himself rather than submit as a slave to his conquerors. The moment had come when he could not escape, and he chose death rather than humiliation. We learn from history that when these barbarians saw that all was lost they frequently slew their wives and children and then themselves, to avoid being taken as prisoners, which really meant being made slaves. This warrior has thrown himself upon his shield; his battle-horn is broken, and the sword which has given him the freedom of death has fallen from his hand. His eye is already dim, his right arm can scarce sustain him, his brow is contracted with pain, and it seems as if a sigh escaped his lips. He has not the noble form of the Greeks; we do not feel the exalted spirit which is shown in the death scenes of some of the Periclean statue heroes; here it is only a rude, barbarous Gaul, suffering death as a brute might; it is very realistic, and when we are near the marble itself we see the coarseness of the skin, the hardened soles of the feet, the coarse hand, and we are sure the artist must have made a true representation of this wild, savage man, who yet had the nobility of nature which would not live to be enslaved (Fig. 54).



These illustrations and remarks will give you some idea of the art of Pergamon, and I shall now leave the subject of Greek sculpture after some account of BOETHUS OF CHALCEDON. His date is very uncertain, though we have accounts of his works by ancient writers. Some scholars believe that he lived about B.C. 275. Many works in chased silver made by Boethus were in the temple of Athena in Lindus in the time of the historian Pliny; there are accounts of a figure of a boy made in gold and one of the youthful Asclepius; but the Boy Strangling a Goose, in the gallery of the Louvre, is his most interesting work for us (Fig. 55). You will remember that even the ancient Egyptians made caricatures and playful, mocking pictures not unlike some of our own day. This boy and goose are of the same spirit, and is intended as a parody on the representations of Hercules struggling with the Nemean lion, which had been represented many times by Greek artists. The boy seems to be working as hard as any giant could do. The execution of this work is fine. It was probably made for a fountain, the water coming through the beak of the goose. There are several works of ancient sculpture which are of the same spirit, and for this reason are attributed to Boethus. The Spinario, or Thorn-extractor, in the museum of the Capitol, at Rome, is one of the most charming pieces of genre statuary in existence (Fig. 56).



It represents a boy taking a thorn from his foot. His attitude is natural and graceful, and the purity and simplicity of its style places it on an equality with works of the best period of sculpture. The expression of the face is that of perfect absorption in what he is doing, and is given with great skill and truthfulness. The treatment of the hair is like that of the archaic period, and there will always be some critics who cannot think that such perfection could exist in the sculpture of what we call the Alexandrian age.



CHAPTER III.

ANCIENT ITALIAN SCULPTURE.

Ancient Italian sculpture was essentially Greek in its spirit, and originated with the Etruscans, a very ancient people in Italy. There are traces of an Oriental influence in the art of Etruria—a suggestion of the sculpture of Egypt and Assyria, just as there is in Greek archaic art; but the real feeling and spirit of it is Greek, and must have been borrowed from Greece in some way.

The different theories and opinions about the Etruscans and their origin do not concern us here; we have to do only with their sculpture as it is seen in the remnants of it now in existence. In the beginning the Etruscans made their statues of clay; marble was very rarely used. Later on they learned the art of working in bronze, and carried it to great perfection. Their bronze works were so numerous that in B.C. 295 Fulvius Flaccus is said to have carried away two thousand statues from Volsinii alone. Some of their figures were colossal, but the greater number were statuettes.

There are some Etruscan bronzes remaining in the museums of Europe. The Etruscans always were copyists rather than original artists; but they copied such excellent things, and did it so well, that their productions are by no means to be despised, and the skill which they acquired caused their bronze and metal work to be highly valued, even in Athens itself.

The Etruscans were physically a more luxurious people than the Greeks, as may be seen in the pictures of them which still remain in the tombs of Corneto and other places. They gave much attention to luxury of living, and the richly decorated goblets and other articles of table furniture which they made may be seen in the Vatican and British Museum, while the delicate and artistic gold work of their personal ornaments is still much admired and copied diligently.

The Romans as a people were patrons of art rather than artists. They seem from very early days to have admired the plastic art of other nations; but of Romans themselves there were very few sculptors; their artists were architects of grand structures rather than workers in the lesser monuments of artistic skill and genius. At first, as we have said, they relied upon the Etruscans, who built their earliest temples and adorned them with sculptures, and the first record which we have of Greek artists working in Rome gives us the names of Damophilus and Gorgasus, who decorated the temple of Ceres with paintings and sculptures. This temple was consecrated in B.C. 493; if its adornment was of the same date, the knowledge of Greek art was brought to Rome at a very early period—at least fifty-six years before the completion of the Parthenon.

But the means by which the whole Roman people were made familiar with the beauties of Greek art are to be found in another direction. It was not the building of their own temples, or any work done by Greek artists in Rome, that gave the Romans their love and appreciation for art; it was rather the art spoils seized by their victorious leaders and brought home to adorn and beautify every portion of the Eternal City. In B.C. 212 Marcellus carried to Rome the spoils he had taken at Syracuse; he exhibited them in his triumphal procession, and afterward consecrated them in the temple of Honor and Valor which he built. From this time it was the fashion to bring home all the choice things that Roman conquerors could seize, and the number of beautiful objects thus gained for Rome was marvellous.

When Flaminius defeated Philip of Macedon it required two days to gather up the spoils. After Fulvius Nobilior conquered the AEtolians he brought Greek artists to Rome to arrange his festivities, and he exhibited five hundred and fifteen bronze and marble statues which he had taken from the defeated people. When Perseus of Macedon was overcome by AEmilius Paulus it required two hundred and fifty wagons to remove the pictures and statues alone which he displayed in his triumphal procession; among these treasures there was a statue of Athena by Phidias himself. This work of spoiling the Grecian cities which came into their power was diligently carried on by Mummius, Sulla, and others, until at length the Emperor Augustus removed many of the archaic sculptures to Rome. But the works which best pleased the Romans were those of the later school of Athens. The ruling gods at Rome were Mars, Bacchus, and Venus, and the statues of these deities were much valued.

So far, to the time of Augustus, the statues and other objects removed had been the spoils of war; but Caligula and Nero did not hesitate to go in times of peace and act the part of robbers. The first sent a consul in A.D. 31 with orders to bring the best works of art from Greece to Rome to adorn his villas; Nero went so far as to send his agents to bring even the images of the deities from the most sacred temples, together with the offerings made to them, for the decoration of his Golden House; it is said that from Delphi alone he received five hundred statues of bronze.

At first the larger number of these art spoils were so placed as to be constantly seen by the whole Roman people, and there is no doubt that their influence was very great and went far to refine their ideas and to prepare the way for the polish and grace of the Augustan age. Very soon the individual desire for works of art was felt, and wealthy men began to decorate their homes with pictures and statues; and at last these things were thought to be necessary to the proper enjoyment of life.

From all these causes there came about a revival of Greek art under the Romans, and in it many beautiful works were produced. Indeed, the greater portion of the sculptures which are now the pride of the collections all over Europe belong to this period. It cannot be said that the artists of this date originated much, but they followed the greatest masters that ever lived; and if they repeated their subjects they so changed them to suit the spirit of their time that they gave their works a certain effect of being something new, and threw their own individuality about them.

The list of names which can be given as belonging to Greek sculptors who worked at Rome is long, and would have little interest here. Instead of speaking of the artists I shall speak of the most famous works of the time which remain; most of these are so placed that they are seen by travellers, and have become familiar to all the world.

The beautiful statue which is known as the Venus de' Medici is so called because after its discovery it rested for a time in the Medici Palace in Rome. It was found in the seventeenth century in the Portico of Octavia at Rome, and was broken into eleven fragments. The arms from the elbows down are restored; when it was found it had traces of gilding on the hair; the ears are pierced, as if gold rings had sometimes been placed in them. In 1680 Duke Cosmo III. removed it to Florence, where it is the chief glory of the famous Tribune of the Uffizi Gallery. Many persons believe this to have been a copy of the renowned Cnidian Venus by Praxiteles, of which I have told you. This Venus de' Medici was the work of an Athenian artist named Cleomenes. He was the son of Apollodorus, a sculptor who lived in Rome in the first or second century of the Christian era. (Fig. 57.)



The aim of the sculptor was not to make a goddess, and his work lacks the dignity which was thrown around the more ancient statues of Venus. Cleomenes endeavored to produce a lovely woman in the youth of her beauty. Some critics believe that this Venus is intended to represent the moment when that goddess stood before Paris for judgment. If this story is not well known I will tell how when Peleus and Thetis were married they invited all the gods to their wedding save the goddess Discordia, and she was so offended by this slight that she threw into the midst of the assembly a golden apple on which were the words, "To the fairest." Juno, Minerva, and Venus all claimed it, and Jupiter sent Mercury to conduct these three beautiful goddesses to Paris, that he might decide to which it belonged. His decision gave the apple to Venus; and this so excited the jealousy and hatred of the others that a long list of serious troubles arose until Paris was driven out of Greece, and, going to the house of Menelaus, he saw and loved Helen, carried her off to Troy, and thus brought on the Trojan war of which the world has heard so much ever since. If I were writing a Sunday-school book I could draw many lessons from this story; but as I am only writing about art, I will go back and remind you that many persons try to study these old statues and to find out exactly what they mean; some such students say that the moment when Paris pronounced Venus to be the most lovely of the goddesses is the time represented by the sculptor of the Venus de' Medici.

As Venus was the goddess of Love and Beauty, it was natural that statues of her should be multiplied. The Chigi Venus in the Vatican has much the same pose as the Venus de' Medici, but she holds the end of a fringed garment in her hand. The Venus of the Capitol, in Rome, is larger than these; the Venus Callipiga, which was found in the Golden House of Nero, and is now in the Museum of Naples, is also worthy of being mentioned in company with these other exquisite sculptures.

However, there is yet another Venus more admirable and more praised than these. She is called the Venus of Milo, or Melos, and is in the gallery of the Louvre, at Paris. This statue is probably of a later date than those of which we have spoken, and is thought to be the work of Alexandros, the son of Menides of Antiocheia, or one of those sculptors who are called Asiatic Greeks. It is said that the base of this statue with the name of the artist upon it was destroyed, for the purpose of leading the King of France to believe it to be more ancient than it really is (Fig. 58, frontispiece).

This magnificent statue was discovered in 1820 by a peasant of the town of Melos, or Milo, on the island of the same name. It was in a niche of a wall which had long been buried. The Marquis of Riviere, who was the French Ambassador at Constantinople, purchased it and presented it to King Louis XVIII., who placed it in the Louvre. It is made from two blocks of marble joined above the drapery which envelops the legs. As the statue now stands it has the tip of the nose and the foot which projects beyond the drapery as they have been restored by modern artists.

This is the only Venus which has come down to us from the past which represents a goddess rather than a beautiful woman. The form has beauty of the highest type, but it has a grandeur which exalts it far above mere beauty. The pure, majestic expression of the head and face speak the calm dignity of a superior being. I shall quote from Perry, who says: "The Venus de Milo is justly admired, not only for the grandeur of its design, the perfection of its proportion, and the exquisite moulding of the superb and luxuriant form, but for the vivid freshness of the flesh and the velvet softness of the skin, in which it stands unrivalled in ancient and modern art. The extraordinary skill with which minute details, such as the folds of the skin in the neck, are harmonized with the ideal beauty of the whole is beyond all imitation and all praise. The life-like effect of this wonderful masterpiece is greatly enhanced by the rare and perfect preservation of the epidermis and by the beautiful warm, yellowish tinge which the lapse of centuries has given to the marble."

In the Museum at Naples is the Farnesian Hercules, which was found in the Baths of Caracalla, in Rome, in 1540. It was first placed in the Farnese Palace, and from that circumstance received the name by which it is known. It is the work of Glycon, an Athenian, and his name is inscribed upon it. There is little doubt that this is a copy of a more ancient statue by the great Lysippus; that master created representations of Hercules in all ages and forms. Glycon probably worked in the time of Hadrian; and though he copied the design and form of Lysippus, he exaggerated some points so as to injure the effect of the whole. For example, the head is small in proportion to the breadth of the breast and shoulders; and because Hercules was a swift runner the sculptor has made the legs too long to be natural. It is in such particulars as these that the decline of art may be traced, even in works that command admiration (Fig. 59).

The moment in which the god is represented is that which immediately followed his securing the apples of the Hesperides, the wedding present of Ge to Juno. Of all the labors of Hercules, perhaps this was the most arduous. Juno had left these apples with the Hesperides for safekeeping. These goddesses lived on Mount Atlas, and the serpent Ladon helped them to guard their precious trust. Hercules did not know just where the apples were kept, and this made his task all the more difficult. When, therefore, he arrived at Mount Atlas he offered to hold up the world for Atlas if he would go and fetch the apples. This Atlas did, but refused to take the weight from Hercules again. However, Hercules took the apples and hastened to his master, Eurystheus, with them. While performing this labor he had a terrible struggle with Ladon, and some accounts say that he killed the monster.



Now, the statue represents the god with the apples in his right hand, the world held on his back, while he leans heavily on his club covered with a lion's skin. All the muscles of his body are swollen from his struggle; his head droops, his whole expression of face and form is that of sadness and weariness. The youthfulness and strength with which the older sculptors invested him is not here. It is a splendid work, but it is not of the best; it belongs to an age when there was too much straining after effect, when the moderation of the best Greek masters did not satisfy the spirit of the time; and no sculptor lived whose power equalled that of Phidias or Lysippus.

There are some reliefs and vases of this Roman period that are very interesting. I shall speak of but one relief—the Sacrifice of Iphigenia, which is in Florence. It is called the work of Cleomenes, and his name is inscribed upon it; but there is some doubt as to the genuineness of the inscription. This relief is very beautiful. It represents a priest cutting off the hair of the lovely maiden as a preparation for her sacrifice.



The story runs that Iphigenia was the daughter of Agamemnon, who killed a hart sacred to Diana. To revenge this act the goddess becalmed the Greek fleet on its way to Aulis. The seer Calchas advised Agamemnon to sacrifice his daughter to appease Diana; this he consented to do, but Diana put a hart in the place of the maiden, whom she bore to Tauris and made a priestess. In this relief the maiden has an air of resigned grief; her father stands by himself with his head covered. The sculptor of this relief was not the first who had represented Agamemnon thus, for a painter, Timanthes, had made a picture of this subject about B.C. 400, and in describing it Quintilian said that "when he had painted Calchas sad, Ulysses sadder, and had represented in the face of Menelaus the most poignant grief that art can express, having exhausted the deepest feelings and finding no means of worthily portraying the countenance of the father, he covered his head and left it to every man's own heart to estimate his sufferings."



I come now to the Apollo Belvedere, one of the most celebrated of all the statues in the Vatican, and the best known and most universally admired of all the ancient statues which remain to us. It was found at about the end of the fifteenth century at the ancient city of Antium, where it probably made one of the ornaments of the Imperial Palace. The authorities upon such subjects have never yet agreed as to whether the marble from which it is cut is a marble of Greece or of Italy (Fig. 60).



This statue has been lauded in all tongues of the civilized world, and nothing could be added to what has been said in its praise; and yet all who see it wish to exalt it still higher if possible. A few years ago another head of Apollo, of Greek marble, was found in a magazine in Rome, by Herr Steinhaeuser, by whose name it is known; it is now in the museum at Basle (Figs. 61, 62).

Though this statue has been so much studied and admired it has never yet been satisfactorily explained, and there are several important questions about it which cannot be answered with certainty. Nothing is known of its age or of the name of its sculptor. It is not described by any ancient writer, neither can any one say whether it is an original or a copy; and above all in importance is the question of what this beautiful young god is doing—what is the meaning of it?



The answers of the authorities to these queries vary so much that here I shall only mention the theory which I love, and which is accepted by many. When the statue was found the left hand was missing, and a bow was believed to have been the article which it held; and it was said that Apollo had just shot an arrow on some dreadful flight, and was watching for its effect. This theory was the principal one until 1860, when a scholar, Stephani, called attention to the fact that in St. Petersburg there is a bronze statuette, less than two feet high, which is almost exactly the same as the Apollo Belvedere—too nearly the same to be an accidental likeness. Now, as this is an antique bronze, it seems to prove that both it and the marble of the Vatican are copies of an ancient work. The statuette is called the Stroganoff Apollo, because it belongs to the collection of a nobleman of that name. It is believed to be one of a number of bronzes which were found near Janina in 1792, and given by the son of Ali Pasha to his physician, Dr. Frank (Fig. 63).

The chief importance of this discovery was the fact that the left hand was perfect, and did not hold a bow, but some soft, elastic substance which Stephani believes to be the aegis, or shield, of Jupiter, on which was the head of Medusa. The sight of this shield paralyzed those who saw it; and though it belonged to Jupiter and Minerva, Jupiter sometimes lent it to his son Apollo to aid him in his warfare; such instances are recorded by Homer. After Stephani had told his idea of it, the German scholar Ludwig Preller pointed out what seems to be the true meaning of it by suggesting that Apollo was extending this dreadful aegis before the sight of the Gauls at Delphi, in B.C. 279. History relates that when the Gauls approached Delphi the people asked the oracle if they should carry away and conceal the treasures of the temple. The oracle replied, "I myself and the White Maidens (meaning Athena and Artemis) will take care of that." Then four thousand Greeks stood by ready to defend the sacred place; but in the midst of the battle the youthful god came down through the roof of the temple, and the White Maidens left their own altars to aid him in driving back the barbarous foe. A great tempest arose, and rocks fell from Parnassus on the heads of the Gauls, and it seemed as if all the powers of heaven and earth had united to sustain the Greeks against their enemies. It is also written that the spectres of Greek heroes who had long been dead were seen in the midst of the battle dealing death upon the Gauls. But above all the fury of the tempest and the noise of war the clashing of the shield and spear of Athena and the twanging sound of the oft-discharged bow of Artemis were heard, while the flash of the awful shield of Apollo was seen to be even more vivid and terrific than the forked lightnings themselves.

It is recorded that after this victory two statues of Apollo and one each of Athena and Artemis were offered in the temple of Apollo as thank-offerings for its preservation and the victory over the Gauls. It is delightful to regard the Apollo Belvedere as a copy of one of these, and this view of it is most satisfying. Luebke, in speaking of this theory, says: "Not till now have we understood the Apollo Belvedere. In unveiled beauty we see the elegant form of the slender figure, the left shoulder only being covered by the chlamys, which falls down over the arm, which, far outstretched, holds the aegis with its Medusa head. The right arm is slightly turned aside, but both hands have been unskilfully restored. The attitude of the god is full of pathos, and is conceived at a dramatic moment. Ardently excited and filled with divine anger, with which is mingled a touch of triumphant scorn, the intellectual head is turned sideward, while the figure, with elastic step, is hastening forward. The eye seems to shoot forth lightning; there is an expression of contempt in the corners of the mouth, and the distended nostrils seem to breathe forth divine anger. It is a bold attitude thus transfixed in marble, full of life-like and excited action."

In the Iliad Homer describes the scene when Jupiter gave the aegis to Apollo, that he might put the Achaeans to flight with it. In connection with the Apollo Belvedere it is well to recall that description which is thus translated by Lord Derby

"While Phoebus motionless his aegis held, Thick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell On either side; but when he turned its flash Full in the faces of the astonished Greeks, And shouted loud, their spirits within them quailed, Their fiery courage borne in mind no more."

It is very interesting to know that many who believe that the Apollo Belvedere represents that god when terrifying the Gauls, believe also that the statues of the "White Maidens" rushing forth from their temples to aid him are in existence, the Artemis being the statue at the Louvre known as "Diane a la Biche" and the Minerva being the Athena with spear and shield in the museum of the Capitol at Rome.

This statue of Artemis, or Diana, has been in France since the time of Henry IV. Formerly it was at Versailles, but is now one of the treasures of the Louvre. The left hand with the bow is restored. The effect of the figure is that of lightness combined with strength. She is going forward rapidly, with her eyes fixed on some distant object, and draws an arrow from her quiver even as she flies. This figure corresponds to the Apollo Belvedere in its spirit and apparent earnestness of purpose; it is of the same proportions, and in such details of treatment as the rich sandals it plainly belongs to the time and the school of the Apollo—indeed, there is no reason why it might not have formed a part of a group in which the Apollo stood. (Fig. 64.)



If we think of this Diana simply as an ideal huntress hastening to the chase the statue is very beautiful, and a remarkable example of such a subject; but when she is regarded as one of the "White Maidens" rushing forth to aid her brother in defending his temple against a barbarous enemy she is invested with a deeper interest; she becomes an important actor in a terrible drama, and those of us who could have no sympathy with her love for hunting are roused to an enthusiastic hope that she will succeed in doing her part to turn the savage foe away from the sacred hill of Pytho, and thus preserve its temple and its treasures.

The statue of Athena, advancing with spear and shield, is supposed to be a third member of the group which commemorated the victory over the Gauls. The position of the two goddesses would indicate that they were represented as hastening from opposite directions toward the Apollo Belvedere, the central figure of the whole. The whole bearing of this statue carries out the impression which Homer gives of the delight with which Athena led the Greeks to battle; she is full of eagerness, and rushes forward with the undaunted vigor of the confidence and courage of one who goes to fight for a just and holy cause (Fig. 65).



Whether this "Gallic theory," as it is called, concerning the Apollo, Diana, and Athena be correct or no, it is the most satisfactory in sentiment of any that has been advanced, and certainly, when we consider the three statues in this connection, there is nothing inharmonious in the supposition that they made the important parts of a whole which may have had many other figures of lesser importance in it.

There are many other statues of the Roman period in various museums, but I shall leave this part of our subject here, and speak briefly of the historical sculpture in the reliefs upon the triumphal arches of the Eternal City. In an age when martial glory was the chief desire of man, and among a people who accorded to successful generals the highest honors, it was most natural that the conquerors should desire to place some monument of their exploits where it would be constantly before the eyes of the people, and thus keep in perpetual remembrance their valiant deeds and their great successes.



We read that pictures of the foreign scenes of sieges and battles were displayed in public places in Rome at a very early date. We cannot find records of plastic works of this sort before the time of the emperors, but after such sculptures came into favor they were multiplied rapidly. The principal historical reliefs in Rome were upon the arches of Claudius, Titus, Trajan, Marcus Aurelius, and Septimius Severus, and on the architrave of the temple of Minerva in the Forum.

Of the arch of Claudius there are some remaining fragments of sculpture, now in the Villa Borghese. The arch of Titus was erected to celebrate the taking of Jerusalem in A.D. 70. It was restored in 1822. The frieze represents both a triumphal procession and one of sacrifice. The picture we give here shows a company of warriors in the dress of peace, who bear articles of booty taken from the conquered city. They have the candelabra with seven branches, the table of the shew-bread, the silver trumpets, etc. This will give you a good idea of these reliefs. (Fig. 66.)

The arch of Trajan no longer stands, and its reliefs are now on the arch of Constantine; but Trajan's Pillar is one of the best preserved of all the antique monuments of Rome, and with some account of this column and a picture from it we will leave the historical sculptures of Rome. The Senate and people of Rome decreed that this column should be erected to the memory of Trajan, and it was in the centre of the Forum which bore the same name—the Forum Trajani. The column is about one hundred and six feet high, and originally was surmounted by a bronze statue of Trajan, which was replaced by one of St. Peter by Pope Sixtus V. A band of reliefs runs around this pillar in a spiral form; this band is six hundred feet long, and the sculptures represent Trajan's campaign against the Dacians. Many of the figures lose their effect on account of the height at which they are placed. There are more than a hundred scenes upon it, in which are about twenty-five hundred human figures, besides many horses and other objects. The whole is executed with the greatest care.

The real object of the whole work was to glorify the Emperor Trajan, and he is represented in many of the scenes; sometimes he is conducting engagements, storming a fort, or encouraging his troops; again he is holding an audience, protecting the women of a conquered city, or sitting in judgment on captives. Fig. 67 represents the Dacians assaulting a Roman fort. It is winter, and while some have crossed the ice in safety, others have broken through. Everything about it is represented in the most life-like and matter-of-fact manner, and this shows distinctly the principal difference between the Greek and the Roman art when the latter was not influenced by the former. It is pure, realistic, historical sculpture, and this pillar shows this at its very best estate; it is a splendid specimen of this kind of art. In all these many scenes there are but two mythological figures: one is Selene, used to represent Night, and the other is Jupiter tonans, who indicates Storm. But the correctness and elegance of the sculptures show what the Greek teaching did for the Romans; for it was to the Greeks that the latter owed their knowledge of the human form and their power to render it properly in sculpture.



The last sort of ancient sculpture of which I shall speak is portrait sculpture, and perhaps this belongs also to historical sculpture, for it is by means of statues and busts that we know the faces and forms of many of the great men and women who hold their places in the regard of the world through all the centuries, because they were concerned in the events which make up what we call the history of the world. We have said that in Greece in very early times there were no portrait sculptures; gradually they were introduced until, in the time of Alexander, portrait statues were almost numberless, and these and busts were used for the decoration of libraries and public buildings, as well as for the adornment of squares and places of resort in the open air.

The finest life-size statue which remains from the Greeks is that of Sophocles, of which we give a picture (Fig. 68). It was not found until about 1839, and was presented to Pope Gregory XVI. by Cardinal Antonelli; it is in the museum of the Lateran. This engraving from it shows its beauties so well that it is scarcely needful to speak of it in detail. This statue is valuable not only as a portrait of Sophocles, but as a representation of a true product of the highest and best of Athenian civilization and culture; of an elegant, aristocratic man who was trained in gymnastic and warlike exercises which developed his physical parts, as well as in science, philosophy, and music—in various deep studies and lighter accomplishments which rendered him profound and scholarly, and at the same time elegant and graceful. "The attitude, though simple, is well chosen to show the most graceful lines of the figure; and the position of the arms—the one gracefully enveloped in the himation, and the other firmly planted on the hip—gives to the whole form an air of mingled ease and dignity. The face is handsome and full of winning grace, and bears the stamp not only of the creative genius of the poet, but of the experience of the active citizen; of one who has felt both the joys and the sufferings of human lot, and preserved amid them the constitutional calmness, the gentle benevolence, the tranquil, meditative piety for which he was renowned and loved by the people among whom he lived and sang."



Among the Romans portrait sculpture held a position of importance. This people had always placed great value upon the likenesses of the dead, and from the earliest times had used different means of making them. In the very early days of the nation the custom prevailed of making masks of the faces of the dead in wax, and these masks were worn in the funeral procession by one of the mourners, who also wore the dress and insignia of the departed. The first aim in these masks was to have an exact resemblance to the dead; and this idea was carried on through all the eras of Roman art, and is a strong distinguishing feature between Greek and Roman sculpture; for while the Greeks wished to reproduce the face of one of whom they made a bust or statue, they did not hesitate to idealize that face; but the Romans labored to make an exact likeness of the man, leaving him in his statue as nothing more than he looked to be. This manner of portraiture often does great injustice to its model, for the changing expressions which come with emotions and with conversation often illuminate the plainest faces with a rare beauty; therefore the aim of portraiture should be to give the very most and best that can be imagined as coming to the face which is reproduced.



I can speak of but a few of the almost numberless Roman portrait sculptures.

This statue of Augustus was found in 1863 in a villa built by his wife, Livia, about nine miles from Rome, at Porta Prima. It is a noble work, and every minute detail of the ornamentation has a force and meaning that can be explained. At the same time the whole work is full of strength and dignity, which comes from the character of the man himself, and is in no sense dependent on all the emblems of his rank and power, with which the dress is loaded (Fig. 69). This statue is in the Vatican, and there one can compare it with the exquisite bust known as the "Young Augustus" and with the statue of the emperor when aged, in which he is veiled as a priest. The study of these three sculptures, thus fortunately near each other, is most interesting.



The Roman women who held important positions were frequently honored with statues. Among those that remain none is more interesting than this of the elder Agrippina. She was a woman of great strength and equally great purity of character, and as we study this statue we can easily understand that she could perform the duties of a general when occasion demanded this service, and when that necessity was past could nurse the sick and wounded with all the tenderness of a true womanly nature. It is in every way a noble work of art, combining grace, dignity, and the aristocratic refinement of a high-born lady. The drapery of this and other similar statues is very beautiful, and fully satisfies all artistic demands. We have full proof that such garments were in actual use by the women of Greece and Rome (Fig. 70).

It was not unusual for the great men and women of Rome to be represented in portrait statues with the attributes of gods and goddesses. Livia appears as Ceres, Julia as Flora, and so on; and during the best days of Roman art these statues were very beautiful. But at last they, like all other sculptures, grew less and less worthy, until they became positively absurd, and lacked any power to command our admiration.

What is thus true of portrait sculpture is true of all Roman art. Its decline kept step with the decline of the nation, and both fell at length into a pitiable state of feebleness and corruption. From this we are glad to turn to the study of Christian art, which, even in its primary struggles, when groping its way through ignorance and helplessness, was still a living thing, and held the promise of a new life—a renaissance of that which had gradually died in Greece and Rome.



CHAPTER IV.

MEDIAEVAL SCULPTURE, FROM THE FIFTH TO THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

The ancient or classic Italian sculpture of which we have spoken may be said to have extended to about the middle of the fourth century of the Christian era. The arch of Constantine was one of its latest works, and is interesting as an example of the decline of art. The sculptures upon it, which were taken from the arch of Trajan, executed two centuries earlier, are so superior to those that were added in the time of Constantine, that nothing could give one a clearer idea of the decadence of sculpture than seeing the works of two periods thus placed side by side.

After the time of Constantine, when the Christians were no longer forced to hide their art in the catacombs, they began to have a sculpture of their own. The first Christians in Rome were brought into contact with the worship of Isis and Pan, Venus and Apollo, and were filled with horror at the sight of the statues of these divinities. They believed that any representation of the human form was forbidden by the commandment which says, "Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything that is in the heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the water under the earth." Thus it happened that when the early Christians desired to represent the Saviour they employed painting, such as is found in the catacombs, rather than sculpture, and separate statues are the rarest remains of early Christian art.

The oldest Christian statue which is known in marble is that of St. Hippolytus, which is in the Museum of the Lateran Palace, where there are also two small statues of Christ as the Good Shepherd, which were found in the catacombs.



The most important statue of this period is that of St. Peter, which is held in great reverence by Roman Catholics, who kiss its toe as they enter the church of St. Peter's at Rome, and press their foreheads against the extended foot. The statue is of bronze, and some antiquarians believe that it is the Jupiter of the Capitol changed so as to answer for a statue of St. Peter; others say that it was cast from the metal of the statue of Jupiter; and the usual belief is that it was made by the order of Pope Leo I. about the middle of the fifth century as a thank-offering for the deliverance of Rome from the barbarian Attila by the miraculous protection of St. Peter and St. Paul. This statue is too rude to belong to classic art, though it is of remarkable excellence for a work of the fifth century (Fig. 71).

The principal use of sculpture by the early Christians was for the decoration of the sarcophagi, or burial-cases. These were cut in bas-reliefs after the manner of the ancients, the subjects being taken from the life of Christ; the ornaments were the Christian emblems, such as the lamb, cross, vine, palm, dove, and the monogram of Christ. As time passed the designs were more and more elaborate; stories from the Old Testament were frequently illustrated, and numerous figures were crowded together, with many symbols ingeniously inserted to make the meaning of the whole more clear.

The largest number and the best of these sarcophagi are now in the museums of the Lateran and the Vatican. In the centre of one of the finest of these is a shell, in which are the half figures of the two who were buried in this sarcophagus. At the upper left hand is the Saviour before the tomb of Lazarus; one of the sisters of the dead man kisses the hand of Jesus; next to this is the Denial of Peter; nearest the shell Moses reaches up to receive the Table of the Law. On the right of the shell, in the upper row, is the Sacrifice of Isaac and the Washing of Pilate's Hands. On the lower row, beginning at the left, is Moses causing the Water to flow from the Rock; next is the Apprehension of Peter, and next, Daniel in the Lions' Den. Besides these there are the Healing of the Blind and the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes. This will show how elaborate the carving is on these burial-cases, and how the subjects from the Old and New Testaments are mingled without order or apparent reason. These sarcophagi have been found in various parts of Italy and in France, and are seen in many museums.

In no part of the Roman Empire was sculpture as favorably regarded by the early Christians as at Byzantium. Several attempts to adorn the city with statues and other works of art were made there, and many of the Greek sculptures which had been carried to Rome were again borne off to decorate this new Capitol. The Emperor Constantine there erected a column a hundred feet high, and placed his statue on it; Theodosius also erected a column and an obelisk; but Justinian excelled all these, and about 543 A.D. set up a monument with a colossal equestrian statue of himself in bronze upon it. The column which supported this statue was of brick masonry covered with plates of bronze. From the accounts we have of it we conclude that this was a fine work for its time; it was called the Augustio, and was placed on the Augusteum near the church of St. Sophia; in the sixteenth century it had been overthrown and broken in pieces, and the metal was then melted down. The artist who executed the Augustio was Eustathius of Rome, who was sent to Byzantium for this purpose.

But the Byzantine Christians soon grew into a fixed disapproval of statues, and favored only the lesser works of art. Ivory-carving, which long before had been brought from the East by the Greeks, now came into special favor, and the Byzantine artists devoted all their talent to making beautiful works of this sort. The most important of these carvings which remains is in the cathedral of Ravenna. It is the episcopal chair or cathedra of Maximianus, and was made between 546 and 552 (Fig. 72).

This chair is composed entirely of carved plates of ivory; scenes from the life of Joseph and other similar designs are represented, and these are surrounded by a great variety of small figures, which form a sort of framework around the principal parts; for example, animals and birds among vine-branches, and all arranged in a life-like and artistic manner. So large a work as this chair in ivory is unusual. The greater number of ivory carvings are upon small objects, such as drinking-cups and other vessels, book-covers and diptychs, or tablets for writing, of which fine specimens remain and are seen in art collections.

Diptychs were carved ivory tablets, with the inner surface waxed for writing, and were used by the early Christians, as they had been by the ancients. The illustration given here is from the diptych of the Consul Areobrudus, and belongs to the year 506 (Fig. 73). The whole design upon it represents a contest with lions and bears; the scene is where—the circus gates being thrown open—the animals rush into the arena to be slain by the gladiators. Some diptychs are ornamented with subjects from the life of Christ and other religious themes.



About the beginning of the tenth century ivory-carving was much used for church purposes. The smaller altars were covered with it, the vessels used for the Holy Sacrament were made of it, magnificent covers for church books, were carved, and as much thought seems to have been given to the designs upon these small objects as had formerly been devoted to the splendid temples of the ancients. Ivory-carving extended from Byzantium into Germany and other Western countries, and along with it went the working in rich and precious metals, which had also been practised somewhat by the earlier Christians.



During the tenth century the metal works were very costly, and the different cathedrals and churches rivalled each other in possessions of this sort. Altar tables were covered with embossed metal plates, which were extended down from the top of the table to the floor, forming antependiums, as they are called, in the same way that those of cloth are now used. These plates of metal were worked into designs in relief, ornamented with delicate filigree work, with paintings in enamel, and even with rare antique cameos and exquisite gems. Crucifixes were also made of metals and richly adorned, as well as all the vessels and smaller articles used in the service and ceremonials of the church—incense-burners, candlesticks, tabernacles and reliquaries, or caskets for preserving relics. In the sacristies of many old churches and in art collections these rare, costly articles are still preserved, and are of great interest in the study of art.

Many of the designs used on these objects were quaint and even grotesque, while the drawing of the figures and the arrangement of the subjects is often done in the crudest and most inartistic manner. Vessels for church use were made in the shapes of griffins, dragons, cranes, lions, and other curious birds and beasts, while the human faces represented sometimes had enamelled or jewelled eye balls. In one case the eyes of the Saviour were made of large carbuncles; you can understand that this would give an expression quite the opposite of that gentleness and peace which we look for in the face of the Redeemer. In truth, there is so much of the grotesque and even barbarous element in many of these works, that we can but ridicule while we recognize the industry and care which was expended upon them. It is also difficult to understand how the feeling for art and the practice of it which had attained to such perfection among the ancients could have died out of the world so completely, for in these mediaeval days it existed nowhere on the face of the earth.

About the beginning of the eleventh century bronze casting came to hold an important place in the art of Germany, and as architecture now received more attention, and bronze gates, and occasionally bronze figures of bishops and other church dignitaries, were used for the decoration of church buildings, we may say that bronze works made the medium through which sculpture in connection with architecture was again brought into use. At Hildesheim there is still a bronze gate at the principal entrance to the cathedral, which was cast in 1015, and in various places in Germany, France, and Northern Italy works of this kind are seen which belong to the eleventh century, while a bit of stone or wood sculpture of this period is very rarely met.

The twelfth century brought about a great change in sculpture and its uses. This century was a period of remarkable activity in every department of human life. The Crusades were then preached, and armies of zealous Christians went forth to redeem Jerusalem from the power of the Pagans; in this century all the institutions of chivalry flourished; the nations of the world had more intercourse with each other than had before existed; commerce was extended into new channels; men were more individual and thought more independently for themselves than they had done hitherto; and, in short, human intellect all over the Western world seemed to be awakening from a long, deep sleep, and to be inspired with strength and activity.

With all the other changes there came revivals of architecture and sculpture, which went hand in hand, and in the beginning can scarcely be separated from each other. The early Christians had been content with the decoration of interiors; now the exteriors received much attention, and the portals or entrances to the churches were richly decorated with statues and other sculptured ornaments, and the exterior decoration soon extended to many portions of the edifices. In the interiors, too, the altars, fonts, choir-screens, and other objects were made of carved stone or of stucco, which hardened like stone, and were all richly ornamented with sculpture. A completely new spirit seemed to possess the artists, who thus found a satisfactory field for their labors, and the period known as the Romanesque was thus ushered in.



We cannot claim that the works of the twelfth century were free from the faults of the preceding eras, or were satisfactory to our artistic sense; but we may say that they show the effect of the new life which had come into the world, and give unerring promise of the progress which followed. The same improvement is seen in bronze-casting as in sculpture; and though to our eyes it still remains crude and ungraceful, yet by comparing it with the work of the previous century we mark a hopeful and important change.

Germany, in its different provinces, took the lead in this artistic progress; but France was not far behind; and, indeed, in the cathedral of Chartres the first promise was given of the splendid church portals of the early Gothic style of architecture which followed the Romanesque. In this cathedral, too, we see for the first time an attempt to make the head and face a reproduction of nature rather than a repetition of the classic head, which had come to be so imperfectly copied that it had degenerated into a caricature. (Fig. 74.)

Other cathedrals at St. Denis, Le Mans, Bourges, and Paris are splendid examples of the art of this time; and when we remember how Italy took the lead of these northern countries in later days, it seems strange that at this era she was far behind them. It is even true that the first works in Northern Italy which indicated that the awakening which had come north of the Alps had reached that country were executed wholly or in part by German artists; but by the end of the twelfth century both the sculpture and bronze-casting of Italy gave promise of the great revival of true art which was to come in that home of the arts.

However, it is not possible to connect the art of Italy with that of any other country in any comprehensive sense. Italian art may be said to have died out more completely in the beginning of the middle ages than did the art of northern nations; its period of decline, too, was longer; but when its awakening came it aroused itself and took on new strength by a method of its own, and may be said to have been distinct from northern art in every respect, and divided from it by its different spirit as clearly as Italy was divided from other lands by the towering summits of the Alps.

About the beginning of the thirteenth century there dawned upon the northern nations a new era in literature. Hitherto the written language had been the monkish Latin; now the poets began to use their own tongues. This new writing may be said to have commenced with the Provencal poets, who were followed by those of Northern France; but it was in Germany that such song broke forth as showed how the national feeling had been repressed, and how, now that it had burst its bonds, it resembled the freshets of spring when they escape from the icy hand of Winter and rush from one point to another, brushing aside every obstacle which lies in their way. I cannot here speak in detail of these poets and their works, but Hartmann of Aue, Walther von der Vogelweid, Wolfram and Gottfried of Strasburg are names which grow brighter with passing centuries.

At the same time with this advance in letters there came, in North-eastern France, the new Gothic style of architecture, which had the effect to revive sculpture and in a degree restore to it the importance it had in classic days. Now, the same artist was both architect and sculptor, and the result was that architecture was so arranged as to afford an honorable place to sculpture, which, in its turn, added much to the grand and full effect of architecture.

Artists now began to study nature and the life about them in preference to the antique, and the sculptors of the thirteenth century were fortunate in living in a time when costumes were picturesque and suited to artistic representations. The dress of a knight was as graceful as one could wish, with its flowing lines and the mantle clasped at one side of the neck, or thrown loosely over the arm and shoulder; and the costume of the other sex, with the full folds of the lower garment fastened by the girdle, and veiling without hiding the movement of the figure, was scarcely less fitting for the artists use than were the classic robes of the Greeks.

The effect of the sculpture of this period was frequently heightened by the use of color. The draperies were enriched by gold ornaments, and painted in rich blue and red, while the flesh parts were delicately tinted. Colors were used with care, and often served to conceal the defects in the sculpture itself, and were thus of great advantage. Color was most frequently used in interior decoration, but it was not unknown upon exterior portals, and porches were introduced to protect this polychromy, as the painting of sculpture was called.

The subjects now represented in sculpture were far more numerous than formerly. While the life of Christ and the Virgin still made the central and most important topic, there were added scenes from the lives of the saints, those who were regarded as the patrons of the city or those to whom the edifice was dedicated being most frequently chosen. New symbolic designs were made showing the flight of time by seasons and months; others represented the virtues, and even the customs and habits of the people were sometimes introduced. There were also humorous representations, even on sacred edifices. Water-pipes and gutter-spouts were ended with the heads of monsters and curious animals, and even with grotesque faces; in short, the smaller details of the architecture of this period show the vividness of the imagination of the time. For example, the leaf-work which was used in the ornamental portions of sculpture had hitherto copied the antique acanthus leaf; now the flowers and leaves native to France were the models of the sculptors, and a charming variety of life-like ornament was the result.

The church of Ste. Chapelle, at Paris, completed about 1248, was the first edifice in which this style was seen in its full development. Here, for the first time, the statues were not placed in the stiff, perpendicular posture, but, by being inclined to different positions, had a light appearance and an air of movement, which was a great relief from the rigidity which had ruled up to this time.

The cathedral at Rheims, however, shows the perfection of thirteenth-century art. It is conceded to be the best example of church building of its time, and its facade the most beautiful structure of the Middle Ages. Its wealth of sculpture is wonderful; its three great portals, the buttresses, the space above the great window and various other portions are so much ornamented that the whole effect is that of a forest of sculpture, and it is difficult to turn from it to consider the architecture of the edifice. It naturally follows that in this vast amount of artistic work there is no equality of excellence; some of the statues are like those of an earlier date: some are too tall and awkward; others too short and rotund; but there are many elegant figures, full of grace and dignity, with the drapery falling in natural folds, and an air of life and freedom of movement about the heads quite unknown before this time.

In one of the side portals of this cathedral there is a figure of Christ which was not surpassed by any work of this period. The study of every portion of the figure is so perfect as to surprise us when we remember that anatomy was not then studied by artists as it had been in classic times or as it has been in more recent days. This statue holds an orb in the left hand, and the right hand is uplifted; not only the nails of the fingers, but the structure of all the joints is skilfully indicated.

It frequently happens that the reliefs are far more excellent than the statues of mediaeval date. This is so noticeable that it would seem as if the best sculptors preferred to make the reliefs, and that the figures were left to those of less talent. On the pediment at Rheims the Last Judgment is represented in five divisions, and these reliefs are among the most beautiful sculptures of this century. The scene of the Resurrection of the Dead is arranged in two rows of figures; a section of it is here given (Fig. 75).

There are twenty-nine of these little figures in the whole subject, and the variety of positions and the naturalness of the various expressions are all that could be desired in any age of art. The forms are in good proportions, and the faces are filled with fear, surprise, hope, and supplication. A volume might be written upon the sculptures of the Rheims Cathedral which would be full of interest to the student of mediaeval art.



Critics have compared the progress and life which pervaded the art of the thirteenth century with the spirit of the age of Phidias. The two periods are alike in the fact that the artists of each broke away from the traditions of those who had preceded them, and took up their work with a desire to come nearer to nature. They were alike, too, in the union of architecture and sculpture, and in the fact that all kinds of sculpture were required for the adornment of a single structure. Colossal and full-sized statues, statuettes, reliefs, and a great variety of simply ornamental designs were lavished upon the Christian cathedral, as they had been upon the Greek temple; and in one case as in the other the various groups and scenes represented were intended to show forth religious mysteries, and to illustrate the working of the supreme power which controls the world in relation to human beings.

But I must leave this part of our subject and speak of the monumental sculpture of the thirteenth century. While many of the tomb statues still retained a general resemblance to those of the past, there were many examples of new strength and progress. In a church near Le Mans the statue of Berengaria, the wife of Richard Coeur de Lion, who died in 1219, was made with open eyes; this gives a very life-like appearance to the face, and the whole head is as noble as that of an antique statue; the drapery is full and free; the feet rest upon a dog, which is the emblem of fidelity, and in the hands is a casket. There is something about this statue which appeals to us—a human element which had been sadly wanting in the monumental statues of the preceding centuries.

But the series of reliefs which were made for the Cathedral of St. Denis were the most important tomb sculptures of this period. They were sixteen in number, and represented princes of the early lines of French sovereigns down to the thirteenth century. Of course those of the Merovingians and Carlovingians could not be portrait statues, and the heads of both kings and queens are all of the same type until those of Philip the Bold, who died in 1285, and his wife, Isabella of Aragon, who died in 1271, are reached. These two are intended to be portraits, and they show the individual characters of these royal personages. In all France there is no more interesting succession of monuments than these.

In Germany the Romanesque style of architecture and the sculpture which went with it held their sway much longer than in France, and the new Gothic style made its way very slowly in the countries north of France. Slight traces of its influence in one way and another may be found about the middle of the thirteenth century; but it was not until the very end of this period that the Gothic style had affected German art, except in the south-western portions of the country. These provinces bordered upon France, and formed a sort of middle ground between the two nations. In Strasburg, at the end of the century, a cathedral was built which was one of the most splendid examples of a union of the two styles that could be produced. The sculptures show the effect of the new French manner in their life and ease of grouping and attitude, while they are still crowded and over-decorated, as in the earlier days, and the fixed architectural frame of the German style is preserved throughout. (Fig. 76.)



There is reason to believe that the relief of the Death of the Virgin, at Strasburg, was the work of Sabina von Steinbach, a daughter of the architect of the west facade of the cathedral. The grouping is fine, and the transparent drapery, which reminds us of the same effects in antique sculpture, is beautifully executed.

In the Cathedral of Freiburg, the nave of which was completed in 1270, there are some very fine sculptures, which are like the Rheims works in spirit and execution; a figure of the Madonna is one of the best statues of the time in any country. There is much to admire in the whole of this cathedral. Here and there in Germany there are some tomb-sculptures of the thirteenth century, which are simple, noble, and individual; but the progress of art here was much less rapid than in France.

Another marked event in the art history of the thirteenth century was the introduction of sculpture into England. The few pieces of plastic art which existed in that country before this date were not sufficient in number or excellence to merit the name of English sculpture.



The first important step was made about the end of the twelfth century, when Guillaume de Sens, a French architect, was employed to build a new choir to Canterbury Cathedral. Not long after this the Temple Church was erected; then Westminster Abbey followed, and at length, under Henry III., all the arts were rapidly advanced in his kingdom. This king summoned artists and skilled workmen from different countries, and portrait-sculpture received especial attention in the England of that day. By comparing English tomb-sculpture with that of other countries, it is seen that the aim of the artists was to make the statues resemble those whose memories they honored, far more than other nations had done. The illustration given here, with its air of life—almost of motion—is a good example of what I mean (Fig. 77).

The sculptures upon the English exteriors, and, indeed, upon the interiors of edifices, were far less lavish than on the Continent; but in Wells Cathedral, completed before 1250, there is a wealth of sculpture for an English church of this date, and from this time forward the plastic arts were of great importance in Great Britain.

With the beginning of the fourteenth century there were great changes in the religious and political affairs of all Europe. The Pope no longer held the supreme authority that had belonged to his office, and the imperial power was also much shaken. We cannot speak of these subjects in detail here, but the result to art of these changes was seen in a development of individualism, and the effects of it did not show an improvement when considered as a whole, though it has some new features which were attractive.

In these days of which we now speak the word citizen had a far deeper meaning than ever before, and the growth of wealth and prosperity in the citizen classes gave a new impulse to all the activities of life, and to art along with others.

This new life and spirit gave more freedom to artists, and they attempted new effects, so that a far greater variety was made in their works. The statue of the Madonna, for example, was so often repeated that it afforded an opportunity for all sorts of experiments, by which the sculptors tried to add to the deep feeling and the devotion that had already been expressed in the representations of the sweet Mother of Christ. But just here they failed; the new era brought more realism, more likeness to nature, more freedom to the artist to put something of himself into his work; but much of the deep thought and the devout feeling of the thirteenth century was lost, and it cannot be said that art was elevated in its tone.

There were influences, too, in the new state of society which permitted details to be introduced into religious subjects which were far from suitable or devotional; sometimes they were even comic in their effects. For example, such scenes as allowed the representation of evil spirits or devils were made to serve for all sorts of coarse, grotesque, and burlesque side-play, and the little figures which represented these powers were made to do all kinds of ridiculous capers side by side with such serious subjects as the Last Judgment or the death scenes of eminent men. This makes us feel, when we study the fourteenth century, that the sculpture of the Middle Ages reached its highest point in the thirteenth century, and soon after began to decline.

In Germany the most important sculptures of this period were executed at Nuremberg. The Church of St. Laurence, that of St. Sebald, the Frauenkirche, or the Church of Our Lady, are all great monuments to the art of this city and the calm dignity and grace which marked the works of the Nuremberg sculptors.

At the close of the century, between 1385 and 1396, Master Heinrich den Balier erected the "Beautiful Fountain," which is still the pride of the city and a splendid monument of the time. In Nuremberg many of the dwelling-houses were decorated with sculptures, and it is now one of the most interesting places in all Germany to the student of ancient art.

We have not the space to speak in detail of the sculpture of the time; Augsburg, Prague, Stuttgart, Bamberg, Wuerzburg, Cologne, and many other German towns and cities have rich treasures of its work, but its character is everywhere much the same, and great activity, with a tendency toward decline, are its prominent features.

In Germany in this century ivory-carving was much practised and used for a great variety of purposes. In these smaller works the life and freshness, the grace and spirit of the manner of the time were very attractive (Fig. 78).



In France the fourteenth century was much less productive of works of art than the preceding one had been. The fact that so much had been done in the thirteenth century—so many new churches built and so many older ones remodelled—is one reason for this change. In this direction there was very little left to be done. Then, too, the country was so disturbed by wars with England that the arts of peace suffered neglect. However, there was still much to be done to complete the grand works already begun, and during the early part of this century a great deal was accomplished by way of interior decoration in edifices not yet completed, and in the making of monuments in memory of persons of rank and importance. Those in the Cathedral of St. Denis were much increased in number, and in all parts of France these works were multiplied.

During this century many artists from the Netherlands were employed in France; and in the city of Dijon, which was the residence of the dukes of Burgundy, the works of Flemish artists were very numerous.

Perhaps the most skilful of these masters was CLAUX SLUTER, who was the favorite of Philip the Bold, and executed the splendid monument to that duke which is now in the Museum at Dijon. He was also the sculptor of the Moses Fountain, the decorations of the Carthusian chapel, and other works which still remain to show how fine a sculptor he was. Sluter had a great influence upon art, and, in fact, may be said to have established a school the effects of which endured long after his time.

In England sculpture made no progress during the fourteenth century. Large architectural sculptures were neither numerous nor fine. Tomb-sculptures and monuments with portrait reliefs and statues were the principal plastic works of the time. The habit of erecting monuments to the dead now extended to all classes, whereas it had formerly been confined to noble and distinguished people. The result was that the monuments of the higher classes were more and more splendid in order to mark the differences of rank, and much grand effect was thus produced; but the merits of the sculpture was less than formerly, and the monuments of this age are wanting in spirit, stiff and unattractive. The costume of the time, too, was so ugly that it served to give a grotesque air to many figures, and thus added to the general appearance of decline which marked the English tomb-sculpture of the fourteenth century. It compares unfavorably with the German monuments of the same period, and the realistic portrait element which ruled it makes it seem like a monotonous and feeble system of mechanics rather than a style of art.