file which includes the original illustrations and also the index for all three volumes of the set with links to the other two volumes4 ,see #cjgef-;h4htm or #cjgef-;h4zip3 7https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/cache_/epu b_/#cjgef_/pg#cjgef-;images4html7 or 7https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/files_/#cj gef_/cjgef-;h4zip7 ,library3 ,volume ,i--see https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/etext_/#cjg ed ,volume ,,ii--see https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/etext_/#cjg ee ,transcriber's note3 ,a few typographical errors have been corrected4 ,they are listed at the end of the text4 ,characters following a caret were printed as superscript in the original4 ,for example1 ,ma12 here the a4 is a superscript4 ,the ,complete ,works of ,john ,ruskin ,volume ,,ix ,,stones ,,of ,,venice ,,volume ,,iii ,illustration3 ,,the ,,bridge ,,of ,,sighs ,,from ,a ,,photograph ,library ,edition ,the ,complete ,works of ,john ,ruskin ,,stones ,,of ,,venice ,,volume ,,iii ,giotto ,lectures on ,architecture ,harbours of ,england ,a ,joy ,forever ,national ,library ,association ,new ,york ,chicago ,,the ,,stones ,,of ,,venice ,,volume ,,iii4 ,,the ,,fall ,,contents4 ,,third1 ,,or ,,renaissance1 ,,period4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,page ,early ,renaissance1 #a ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,roman ,renaissance1 #cb ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,grotesque ,renaissance1 #aab ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,conclusion1 #aff ,,appendix4 #a4 ,architect of the ,ducal ,palace1 #aii #b4 ,theology of ,spenser1 #bje #c4 ,austrian ,government in ,italy1 #bji #d4 ,date of the ,palaces of the ,byzantine ,renaissance1 #baa #e4 ,renaissance ,side of ,ducal ,palace1 #bab #f4 ,character of the ,doge ,michele ,morosini1 #bac #g4 ,modern ,education1 #bad #h4 ,early ,venetian ,marriages1 #bbb #i4 ,character of the ,venetian ,aristocracy1 #bbc #aj4 ,final ,appendix1 #bbd ,,indices4 ,i4 ,personal ,index1 #bfc ,,ii4 ,local ,index1 #bfh ,,iii4 ,topical ,index1 #bga ,,iv4 ,venetian ,index1 #bhg ,,list ,,of ,,plates4 ,facing ,page ,,plate #a4 ,temperance and ,intemperance in ,ornament1 #f #b4 ,gothic ,capitals1 #h #c4 ,noble and ,ignoble ,grotesque1 #abe #d4 ,mosaic of ,olive ,tree and ,flowers1 #agi #e4 ,byzantine ,bases1 #bbe #f4 ,byzantine ,jambs1 #bbi #g4 ,gothic ,jambs1 #bcj #h4 ,byzantine ,archivolts1 #bdd #i4 ,gothic ,archivolts1 #bde #aj4 ,cornices1 #bdh #aa4 ,tracery ,bars1 #beb #ab4 ,capitals of ,fondaco de ,turchi1 #cjd ,,the ,,stones ,,of ,,venice4 ,,third1 ,,or ,,renaissance1 ,,period4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,early ,,renaissance4 ,i4 ,i trust that the reader has been enabled1 by the preceding chapters1 to form some conception of the magnificence of the streets of ,venice during the course of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries4 ,yet by all this magnificence she was not supremely distinguished above the other cities of the middle ages4 ,her early edifices have been preserved to our times by the circuit of her waves2 while continual recurrences of ruin have defaced the glory of her sister cities4 ,but such fragments as are still left in their lonely squares1 and in the corners of their streets1 so far from being inferior to the buildings of ,venice1 are even more rich1 more finished1 more admirable in invention1 more exuberant in beauty4 ,and although1 in the ,north of ,europe1 civilization was less advanced1 and the knowledge of the arts was more confined to the ecclesiastical orders1 so that1 for domestic architecture1 the period of perfection must be there placed much later than in ,italy1 and considered as extending to the middle of the fifteenth century2 yet1 as each city reached a certain point in civilization1 its streets became decorated with the same magnificence1 varied only in style according to the materials at hand1 and temper of the people4 ,and ,i am not aware of any town of wealth and importance in the middle ages1 in which some proof does not exist1 that1 at its period of greatest energy and prosperity1 its streets were inwrought with rich sculpture1 and even 7though in this1 as before noticed1 ,venice always stood supreme7 glowing with color and with gold4 ,now1 therefore1 let the reader1--forming for himself as vivid and real a conception as he is able1 either of a group of ,venetian palaces in the fourteenth century1 or1 if he likes better1 of one of the more fantastic but even richer street scenes of ,rouen1 ,antwerp1 ,cologne1 or ,nuremberg1 and keeping this gorgeous image before him1--go out into any thoroughfare1 representative1 in a general and characteristic way1 of the feeling for domestic architecture in modern times2 let him1 for instance1 if in ,london1 walk once up and down ,harley ,street1 or ,baker ,street1 or ,gower ,street2 and then1 looking upon this picture and on this1 set himself to consider 7for this is to be the subject of our following and final inquiry7 what have been the causes which have induced so vast a change in the ,european mind4 ,,ii4 ,renaissance architecture is the school which has conducted men's inventive and constructive faculties from the ,grand ,canal to ,gower ,street2 from the marble shaft1 and the lancet arch1 and the wreathed leafage1 and the glowing and melting harmony of gold and azure1 to the square cavity in the brick wall4 ,we have now to consider the causes and the steps of this change2 and1 as we endeavored above to investigate the nature of ,gothic1 here to investigate also the nature of ,renaissance4 ,,iii4 ,although ,renaissance architecture assumes very different forms among different nations1 it may be conveniently referred to three heads3--,early ,renaissance1 consisting of the first corruptions introduced into the ,gothic schools3 ,central or ,roman ,renaissance1 which is the perfectly formed style3 and ,grotesque ,renaissance1 which is the corruption of the ,renaissance itself4 ,,iv4 ,now1 in order to do full justice to the adverse cause1 we will consider the abstract nature of the school with reference only to its best or central examples4 ,the forms of building which must be classed generally under the term early ,renaissance are1 in many cases1 only the extravagances and corruptions of the languid ,gothic1 for whose errors the classical principle is in no wise answerable4 ,it was stated in the second chapter of the ,seven ,lamps1 that1 unless luxury had enervated and subtlety falsified the ,gothic forms1 ,roman traditions could not have prevailed against them2 and1 although these enervated and false conditions are almost instantly colored by the classical influence1 it would be utterly unfair to lay to the charge of that influence the first debasement of the earlier schools1 which had lost the strength of their system before they could be struck by the plague4 ,v4 ,the manner1 however1 of the debasement of all schools of art1 so far as it is natural1 is in all ages the same2 luxuriance of ornament1 refinement of execution1 and idle subtleties of fancy1 taking the place of true thought and firm handling3 and ,i do not intend to delay the reader long by the ,gothic sick-bed1 for our task is not so much to watch the wasting of fever in the features of the expiring king1 as to trace the character of that ,hazael who dipped the cloth in water1 and laid it upon his face1 ,nevertheless1 it is necessary to the completeness of our view of the architecture of ,venice1 as well as to our understanding of the manner in which the ,central ,renaissance obtained its universal dominion1 that we glance briefly at the principal forms into which ,venetian ,gothic first declined4 ,they are two in number3 one the corruption of the ,gothic itself2 the other a partial return to ,byzantine forms2 for the ,venetian mind having carried the ,gothic to a point at which it was dissatisfied1 tried to retrace its steps1 fell back first upon ,byzantine types1 and through them passed to the first ,roman4 ,but in thus retracing its steps1 it does not recover its own lost energy4 ,it revisits the places through which it had passed in the morning light1 but it is now with wearied limbs1 and under the gloomy shadows of evening4 ,,vi4 ,it has just been said that the two principal causes of natural decline in any school1 are over-luxuriance and over-refinement4 ,the corrupt ,gothic of ,venice furnishes us with a curious instance of the one1 and the corrupt ,byzantine of the other4 ,we shall examine them in succession4 ,now1 observe1 first1 ,i do not mean by luxuriance of ornament1 quantity of ornament4 ,in the best ,gothic in the world there is hardly an inch of stone left unsculptured4 ,but ,i mean that character of extravagance in the ornament itself which shows that it was addressed to jaded faculties2 a violence and coarseness in curvature1 a depth of shadow1 a lusciousness in arrangement of line1 evidently arising out of an incapability of feeling the true beauty of chaste form and restrained power4 ,i do not know any character of design which may be more easily recognized at a glance than this over-lusciousness2 and yet it seems to me that at the present day there is nothing so little understood as the essential difference between chasteness and extravagance1 whether in color1 shade1 or lines4 ,we speak loosely and inaccurately of overcharged ornament1 with an obscure feeling that there is indeed something in visible ,form which is correspondent to ,intemperance in moral habits2 but without any distinct detection of the character which offends us1 far less with any understanding of the most important lesson which there can be no doubt was intended to be conveyed by the universality of this ornamental law4 ,,vii4 ,in a word1 then1 the safeguard of highest beauty1 in all visible work1 is exactly that which is also the safeguard of conduct in the soul1--,temperance1 in the broadest sense2 the ,temperance which we have seen sitting on an equal throne with ,justice amidst the ,four ,cardinal ,virtues1 and1 wanting which1 there is not any other virtue which may not lead us into desperate error4 ,now1 observe3 ,temperance1 in the nobler sense1 does not mean a subdued and imperfect energy2 it does not mean a stopping short in any good thing1 as in ,love or in ,faith2 but it means the power which governs the most intense energy1 and prevents its acting in any way but as it ought4 ,and with respect to things in which there may be excess1 it does not mean imperfect enjoyment of them2 but the regulation of their quantity1 so that the enjoyment of them shall be greatest4 ,for instance1 in the matter we have at present in hand1 temperance in color does not mean imperfect or dull enjoyment of color2 but it means that government of color which shall bring the utmost possible enjoyment out of all hues4 ,a bad colorist does not love beautiful color better than the best colorist does1 nor half so much4 ,but he indulges in it to excess2 he uses it in large masses1 and unsubdued2 and then it is a law of ,nature1 a law as universal as that of gravitation1 that he shall not be able to enjoy it so much as if he had used it in less quantity4 ,his eye is jaded and satiated1 and the blue and red have life in them no more4 ,he tries to paint them bluer and redder1 in vain3 all the blue has become grey1 and gets greyer the more he adds to it2 all his crimson has become brown1 and gets more sere and autumnal the more he deepens it4 ,but the great painter is sternly temperate in his work2 he loves the vivid color with all his heart2 but for a long time he does not allow himself anything like it1 nothing but sober browns and dull greys1 and colors that have no conceivable beauty in them2 but these by his government become lovely3 and after bringing out of them all the life and power they possess1 and enjoying them to the uttermost1--cautiously1 and as the crown of the work1 and the consummation of its music1 he permits the momentary crimson and azure1 and the whole canvas is in a flame4 ,,viii4 ,again1 in curvature1 which is the cause of loveliness in all form2 the bad designer does not enjoy it more than the great designer1 but he indulges in it till his eye is satiated1 and he cannot obtain enough of it to touch his jaded feeling for grace4 ,but the great and temperate designer does not allow himself any violent curves2 he works much with lines in which the curvature1 though always existing1 is long before it is perceived4 ,he dwells on all these subdued curvatures to the uttermost1 and opposes them with still severer lines to bring them out in fuller sweetness2 and1 at last1 he allows himself a momentary curve of energy1 and all the work is1 in an instant1 full of life and grace4 ,the curves drawn in ,plate ,,vii4 of the first volume1 were chosen entirely to show this character of dignity and restraint1 as it appears in the lines of nature1 together with the perpetual changefulness of the degrees of curvature in one and the same line2 but although the purpose of that plate was carefully explained in the chapter which it illustrates1 as well as in the passages of ,modern ,painters therein referred to 7vol4 ii4 pp4 #dc1 #gi71 so little are we now in the habit of considering the character of abstract lines1 that it was thought by many persons that this plate only illustrated ,hogarth's reversed line of beauty1 even although the curve of the salvia leaf1 which was the one taken from that plate for future use1 in architecture1 was not a reversed or serpentine curve at all4 ,i shall now1 however1 ,i hope1 be able to show my meaning better4 ,,ix4 ,fig4 #a in ,plate ,i41 opposite1 is a piece of ornamentation from a ,norman-,french manuscript of the thirteenth century1 and fig4 #b from an ,italian one of the fifteenth4 ,observe in the first its stern moderation in curvature2 the gradually united lines nearly straight1 though none quite straight1 used for its main limb1 and contrasted with the bold but simple offshoots of its leaves1 and the noble spiral from which it shoots1 these in their turn opposed by the sharp trefoils and thorny cusps4 ,and see what a reserve of resource there is in the whole2 how easy it would have been to make the curves more palpable and the foliage more rich1 and how the noble hand has stayed itself1 and refused to grant one wave of motion more4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,i4 ,,temperance ,,and ,,intemperance4 ,,in ,,curvature4 ,x4 ,then observe the other example1 in which1 while the same idea is continually repeated1 excitement and interest are sought for by means of violent and continual curvatures wholly unrestrained1 and rolling hither and thither in confused wantonness4 ,compare the character of the separate lines in these two examples carefully1 and be assured that wherever this redundant and luxurious curvature shows itself in ornamentation1 it is a sign of jaded energy and failing invention4 ,do not confuse it with fulness or richness4 ,wealth is not necessarily wantonness3 a ,gothic moulding may be buried half a foot deep in thorns and leaves1 and yet will be chaste in every line2 and a late ,renaissance moulding may be utterly barren and poverty-stricken1 and yet will show the disposition to luxury in every line4 ,,xi4 ,plate ,,xx41 in the second volume1 though prepared for the special illustration of the notices of capitals1 becomes peculiarly interesting when considered in relation to the points at present under consideration4 ,the four leaves in the upper row are ,byzantine2 the two middle rows are transitional1 all but fig4 #aa1 which is of the formed ,gothic2 fig4 #ab is perfect ,gothic of the finest time 7,ducal ,palace1 oldest part71 fig4 #ac is ,gothic beginning to decline1 fig4 #ad is ,renaissance ,gothic in complete corruption4 ,now observe1 first1 the ,gothic naturalism advancing gradually from the ,byzantine severity2 how from the sharp1 hard1 formalized conventionality of the upper series the leaves gradually expand into more free and flexible animation1 until in fig4 #ab we have the perfect living leaf as if fresh gathered out of the dew4 ,and then1 in the last two examples and partly in fig4 #aa1 observe how the forms which can advance no longer in animation1 advance1 or rather decline1 into luxury and effeminacy as the strength of the school expires4 ,,xii4 ,in the second place1 note that the ,byzantine and ,gothic schools1 however differing in degree of life1 are both alike in temperance1 though the temperance of the ,gothic is the nobler1 because it consists with entire animation4 ,observe how severe and subtle the curvatures are in all the leaves from fig4 #a to fig4 #ab1 except only in fig4 #aa2 and observe especially the firmness and strength obtained by the close approximation to the straight line in the lateral ribs of the leaf1 fig4 #ab4 ,the longer the eye rests on these temperate curvatures the more it will enjoy them1 but it will assuredly in the end be wearied by the morbid exaggeration of the last example4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,ii4 ,,gothic ,,capitals4 ,,xiii4 ,finally1 observe--and this is very important--how one and the same character in the work may be a sign of totally different states of mind1 and therefore in one case bad1 and in the other good4 ,the examples1 fig4 #c4 and fig4 #ab41 are both equally pure in line2 but one is subdivided in the extreme1 the other broad in the extreme1 and both are beautiful4 ,the ,byzantine mind delighted in the delicacy of subdivision which nature shows in the fern-leaf or parsley-leaf2 and so1 also1 often the ,gothic mind1 much enjoying the oak1 thorn1 and thistle4 ,but the builder of the ,ducal ,palace used great breadth in his foliage1 in order to harmonize with the broad surface of his mighty wall1 and delighted in this breadth as nature delights in the sweeping freshness of the dock-leaf or water-lily4 ,both breadth and subdivision are thus noble1 when they are contemplated or conceived by a mind in health2 and both become ignoble1 when conceived by a mind jaded and satiated4 ,the subdivision in fig4 #ac as compared with the type1 fig4 #ab1 which it was intended to improve1 is the sign1 not of a mind which loved intricacy1 but of one which could not relish simplicity1 which had not strength enough to enjoy the broad masses of the earlier leaves1 and cut them to pieces idly1 like a child tearing the book which1 in its weariness1 it cannot read4 ,and on the other hand1 we shall continually find1 in other examples of work of the same period1 an unwholesome breadth or heaviness1 which results from the mind having no longer any care for refinement or precision1 nor taking any delight in delicate forms1 but making all things blunted1 cumbrous1 and dead1 losing at the same time the sense of the elasticity and spring of natural curves4 ,it is as if the soul of man1 itself severed from the root of its health1 and about to fall into corruption1 lost the perception of life in all things around it2 and could no more distinguish the wave of the strong branches1 full of muscular strength and sanguine circulation1 from the lax bending of a broken cord1 nor the sinuousness of the edge of the leaf1 crushed into deep folds by the expansion of its living growth1 from the wrinkled contraction of its decay4#a ,thus1 in morals1 there is a care for trifles which proceeds from love and conscience1 and is most holy2 and a care for trifles which comes of idleness and frivolity1 and is most base4 ,and so1 also1 there is a gravity proceeding from thought1 which is most noble2 and a gravity proceeding from dulness and mere incapability of enjoyment1 which is most base4 ,now1 in the various forms assumed by the later ,gothic of ,venice1 there are one or two features which1 under other circumstances1 would not have been signs of decline2 but1 in the particular manner of their occurrence here1 indicate the fatal weariness of decay4 ,of all these features the most distinctive are its crockets and finials4 ,,xiv4 ,there is not to be found a single crocket or finial upon any part of the ,ducal ,palace built during the fourteenth century2 and although they occur on contemporary1 and on some much earlier1 buildings1 they either indicate detached examples of schools not properly ,venetian1 or are signs of incipient decline4 ,the reason of this is1 that the finial is properly the ornament of gabled architecture2 it is the compliance1 in the minor features of the building1 with the spirit of its towers1 ridged roof1 and spires4 ,venetian building is not gabled1 but horizontal in its roots and general masses2 therefore the finial is a feature contradictory to its spirit1 and adopted only in that search for morbid excitement which is the infallible indication of decline4 ,when it occurs earlier1 it is on fragments of true gabled architecture1 as1 for instance1 on the porch of the ,carmini4 ,in proportion to the unjustifiableness of its introduction was the extravagance of the form it assumed2 becoming1 sometimes1 a tuft at the top of the ogee windows1 half as high as the arch itself1 and consisting1 in the richest examples1 of a human figure1 half emergent out of a cup of leafage1 as1 for instance1 in the small archway of the ,campo ,san ,zaccaria3 while the crockets1 as being at the side of the arch1 and not so strictly connected with its balance and symmetry1 appear to consider themselves at greater liberty even than the finials1 and fling themselves1 hither and thither1 in the wildest contortions4 ,fig4 #d4 in ,plate ,i1 is the outline of one1 carved in stone1 from the later ,gothic of ,st4 ,mark's2 fig4 #c4 a crocket from the fine ,veronese ,gothic2 in order to enable the reader to discern the ,renaissance character better by comparison with the examples of curvature above them1 taken from the manuscripts4 ,and not content with this exuberance in the external ornaments of the arch1 the finial interferes with its traceries4 ,the increased intricacy of these1 as such1 being a natural process in the developement of ,gothic1 would have been no evil2 but they are corrupted by the enrichment of the finial at the point of the cusp1--corrupted1 that is to say1 in ,venice3 for at ,verona the finial1 in the form of a fleur-de-lis1 appears long previously at the cusp point1 with exquisite effect2 and in our own best ,northern ,gothic it is often used beautifully in this place1 as in the window from ,salisbury1 ,plate ,,xii4 7,vol4 ,,ii471 fig4 #b4 ,but in ,venice1 such a treatment of it was utterly contrary to the severe spirit of the ancient traceries2 and the adoption of a leafy finial at the extremity of the cusps in the door of ,san ,stefano1 as opposed to the simple ball which terminates those of the ,ducal ,palace1 is an unmistakable indication of a tendency to decline4 ,in like manner1 the enrichment and complication of the jamb mouldings1 which1 in other schools1 might and did take place in the healthiest periods1 are1 at ,venice1 signs of decline1 owing to the entire inconsistency of such mouldings with the ancient love of the single square jamb and archivolt4 ,the process of enrichment in them is shown by the successive examples given in ,plate ,,vii41 below4 ,they are numbered1 and explained in the ,appendix4 ,,xv4 ,the date at which this corrupt form of ,gothic first prevailed over the early simplicity of the ,venetian types can be determined in an instant1 on the steps of the choir of the ,church of ,st4 ,john and ,paul4 ,on our left hand1 as we enter1 is the tomb of the ,doge ,marco ,cornaro1 who died in #acfg4 ,it is rich and fully developed ,gothic1 with crockets and finials1 but not yet attaining any extravagant developement4 ,opposite to it is that of the ,doge ,andrea ,morosini1 who died in #achb4 ,its ,gothic is voluptuous1 and over-wrought2 the crockets are bold and florid1 and the enormous finial represents a statue of ,st4 ,michael4 ,there is no excuse for the antiquaries who1 having this tomb before them1 could have attributed the severe architecture of the ,ducal ,palace to a later date2 for every one of the ,renaissance errors is here in complete developement1 though not so grossly as entirely to destroy the loveliness of the ,gothic forms4 ,in the ,porta della ,carta1 #adbc1 the vice reaches its climax4 ,,xvi4 ,against this degraded ,gothic1 then1 came up the ,renaissance armies2 and their first assault was in the requirement of universal perfection4 ,for the first time since the destruction of ,rome1 the world had seen1 in the work of the greatest artists of the fifteenth century1--in the painting of ,ghirlandajo1 ,masaccio1 ,francia1 ,perugino1 ,pinturicchio1 and ,bellini2 in the sculpture of ,mino da ,fiesole1 of ,ghiberti1 and ,verrocchio1--a perfection of execution and fulness of knowledge which cast all previous art into the shade1 and which1 being in the work of those men united with all that was great in that of former days1 did indeed justify the utmost enthusiasm with which their efforts were1 or could be1 regarded4 ,but when this perfection had once been exhibited in anything1 it was required in everything2 the world could no longer be satisfied with less exquisite execution1 or less disciplined knowledge4 ,the first thing that it demanded in all work was1 that it should be done in a consummate and learned way2 and men altogether forgot that it was possible to consummate what was contemptible1 and to know what was useless4 ,imperatively requiring dexterity of touch1 they gradually forgot to look for tenderness of feeling2 imperatively requiring accuracy of knowledge1 they gradually forgot to ask for originality of thought4 ,the thought and the feeling which they despised departed from them1 and they were left to felicitate themselves on their small science and their neat fingering4 ,this is the history of the first attack of the ,renaissance upon the ,gothic schools1 and of its rapid results1 more fatal and immediate in architecture than in any other art1 because there the demand for perfection was less reasonable1 and less consistent with the capabilities of the workman2 being utterly opposed to that rudeness or savageness on which1 as we saw above1 the nobility of the elder schools in great part depends4 ,but inasmuch as the innovations were founded on some of the most beautiful examples of art1 and headed by some of the greatest men that the world ever saw1 and as the ,gothic with which they interfered was corrupt and valueless1 the first appearance of the ,renaissance feeling had the appearance of a healthy movement4 ,a new energy replaced whatever weariness or dulness had affected the ,gothic mind2 an exquisite taste and refinement1 aided by extended knowledge1 furnished the first models of the new school2 and over the whole of ,italy a style arose1 generally now known as cinque-cento1 which in sculpture and painting1 as ,i just stated1 produced the noblest masters which the world ever saw1 headed by ,michael ,angelo1 ,raphael1 and ,leonardo2 but which failed of doing the same in architecture1 because1 as we have seen above1 perfection is therein not possible1 and failed more totally than it would otherwise have done1 because the classical enthusiasm had destroyed the best types of architectural form4 ,,xvii4 ,for1 observe here very carefully1 the ,renaissance principle1 as it consisted in a demand for universal perfection1 is quite distinct from the ,renaissance principle as it consists in a demand for classical and ,roman forms of perfection4 ,and if ,i had space to follow out the subject as ,i should desire1 ,i would first endeavor to ascertain what might have been the course of the art of ,europe if no manuscripts of classical authors had been recovered1 and no remains of classical architecture left1 in the fifteenth century2 so that the executive perfection to which the efforts of all great men had tended for five hundred years1 and which now at last was reached1 might have been allowed to develope itself in its own natural and proper form1 in connexion with the architectural structure of earlier schools4 ,this refinement and perfection had indeed its own perils1 and the history of later ,italy1 as she sank into pleasure and thence into corruption1 would probably have been the same whether she had ever learned again to write pure ,latin or not4 ,still the inquiry into the probable cause of the enervation which might naturally have followed the highest exertion of her energies1 is a totally distinct one from that into the particular form given to this enervation by her classical learning2 and it is matter of considerable regret to me that ,i cannot treat these two subjects separately3 ,i must be content with marking them for separation in the mind of the reader4 ,,xviii4 ,the effect1 then1 of the sudden enthusiasm for classical literature1 which gained strength during every hour of the fifteenth century1 was1 as far as respected architecture1 to do away with the entire system of ,gothic science4 ,the pointed arch1 the shadowy vault1 the clustered shaft1 the heaven-pointing spire1 were all swept away2 and no structure was any longer permitted but that of the plain cross-beam from pillar to pillar1 over the round arch1 with square or circular shafts1 and a low-gabled roof and pediment3 two elements of noble form1 which had fortunately existed in ,rome1 were1 however1 for that reason1 still permitted2 the cupola1 and1 internally1 the waggon vault4 ,,xix4 ,these changes in form were all of them unfortunate2 and it is almost impossible to do justice to the occasionally exquisite ornamentation of the fifteenth century1 on account of its being placed upon edifices of the cold and meagre ,roman outline4 ,there is1 as far as ,i know1 only one ,gothic building in ,europe1 the ,duomo of ,florence1 in which1 though the ornament be of a much earlier school1 it is yet so exquisitely finished as to enable us to imagine what might have been the effect of the perfect workmanship of the ,renaissance1 coming out of the hands of men like ,verrocchio and ,ghiberti1 had it been employed on the magnificent framework of ,gothic structure4 ,this is the question which1 as ,i shall note in the concluding chapter1 we ought to set ourselves practically to solve in modern times4 ,,xx4 ,the changes effected in form1 however1 were the least part of the evil principles of the ,renaissance4 ,as ,i have just said1 its main mistake1 in its early stages1 was the unwholesome demand for perfection1 at any cost4 ,i hope enough has been advanced1 in the chapter on the ,nature of ,gothic1 to show the reader that perfection is not to be had from the general workman1 but at the cost of everything1--of his whole life1 thought1 and energy4 ,and ,renaissance ,europe thought this a small price to pay for manipulative perfection4 ,men like ,verrocchio and ,ghiberti were not to be had every day1 nor in every place2 and to require from the common workman execution or knowledge like theirs1 was to require him to become their copyist4 ,their strength was great enough to enable them to join science with invention1 method with emotion1 finish with fire2 but1 in them1 the invention and the fire were first1 while ,europe saw in them only the method and the finish4 ,this was new to the minds of men1 and they pursued it to the neglect of everything else4 ,this1 they cried1 we must have in all our work henceforward3 and they were obeyed4 ,the lower workman secured method and finish1 and lost1 in exchange for them1 his soul4 ,,xxi4 ,now1 therefore1 do not let me be misunderstood when ,i speak generally of the evil spirit of the ,renaissance4 ,the reader may look through all ,i have written1 from first to last1 and he will not find one word but of the most profound reverence for those mighty men who could wear the ,renaissance armor of proof1 and yet not feel it encumber their living limbs1#b--,leonardo and ,michael ,angelo1 ,ghirlandajo and ,masaccio1 ,titian and ,tintoret4 ,but ,i speak of the ,renaissance as an evil time1 because1 when it saw those men go burning forth into the battle1 it mistook their armor for their strength3 and forthwith encumbered with the painful panoply every stripling who ought to have gone forth only with his own choice of three smooth stones out of the brook4 ,,xxii4 ,this1 then1 the reader must always keep in mind when he is examining for himself any examples of cinque-cento work4 ,when it has been done by a truly great man1 whose life and strength could not be oppressed1 and who turned to good account the whole science of his day1 nothing is more exquisite4 ,i do not believe1 for instance1 that there is a more glorious work of sculpture existing in the world than that equestrian statue of ,bartolomeo ,colleone1 by ,verrocchio1 of which1 ,i hope1 before these pages are printed1 there will be a cast in ,england4 ,but when the cinque-cento work has been done by those meaner men1 who1 in the ,gothic times1 though in a rough way1 would yet have found some means of speaking out what was in their hearts1 it is utterly inanimate1--a base and helpless copy of more accomplished models2 or1 if not this1 a mere accumulation of technical skill1 in gaining which the workman had surrendered all other powers that were in him4 ,there is1 therefore1 of course1 an infinite gradation in the art of the period1 from the ,sistine ,chapel down to modern upholstery2 but1 for the most part1 since in architecture the workman must be of an inferior order1 it will be found that this cinque-cento painting and higher religious sculpture is noble1 while the cinque-cento architecture1 with its subordinate sculpture1 is universally bad2 sometimes1 however1 assuming forms1 in which the consummate refinement almost atones for the loss of force4 ,,xxiii4 ,this is especially the case with that second branch of the ,renaissance which1 as above noticed1 was engrafted at ,venice on the ,byzantine types4 ,so soon as the classical enthusiasm required the banishment of ,gothic forms1 it was natural that the ,venetian mind should turn back with affection to the ,byzantine models in which the round arches and simple shafts1 necessitated by recent law1 were presented under a form consecrated by the usage of their ancestors4 ,and1 accordingly1 the first distinct school of architecture#c which arose under the new dynasty1 was one in which the method of inlaying marble1 and the general forms of shaft and arch1 were adopted from the buildings of the twelfth century1 and applied with the utmost possible refinements of modern skill4 ,both at ,verona and ,venice the resulting architecture is exceedingly beautiful4 ,at ,verona it is1 indeed1 less ,byzantine1 but possesses a character of richness and tenderness almost peculiar to that city4 ,at ,venice it is more severe1 but yet adorned with sculpture which1 for sharpness of touch and delicacy of minute form1 cannot be rivalled1 and rendered especially brilliant and beautiful by the introduction of those inlaid circles of colored marble1 serpentine1 and porphyry1 by which ,phillippe de ,commynes was so much struck on his first entrance into the city4 ,the two most refined buildings in this style in ,venice are1 the small ,church of the ,miracoli1 and the ,scuola di ,san ,marco beside the ,church of ,st4 ,john and ,st4 ,paul4 ,the noblest is the ,rio ,faade of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,the ,casa ,dario1 and ,casa ,manzoni1 on the ,grand ,canal1 are exquisite examples of the school1 as applied to domestic architecture2 and1 in the reach of the canal between the ,casa ,foscari and the ,rialto1 there are several palaces1 of which the ,casa ,contarini 7called delle ,figure7 is the principal1 belonging to the same group1 though somewhat later1 and remarkable for the association of the ,byzantine principles of color with the severest lines of the ,roman pediment1 gradually superseding the round arch4 ,the precision of chiselling and delicacy of proportion in the ornament and general lines of these palaces cannot be too highly praised2 and ,i believe that the traveller in ,venice1 in general1 gives them rather too little attention than too much4 ,but while ,i would ask him to stay his gondola beside each of them long enough to examine their every line1 ,i must also warn him to observe1 most carefully1 the peculiar feebleness and want of soul in the conception of their ornament1 which mark them as belonging to a period of decline2 as well as the absurd mode of introduction of their pieces of colored marble3 these1 instead of being simply and naturally inserted in the masonry1 are placed in small circular or oblong frames of sculpture1 like mirrors or pictures1 and are represented as suspended by ribands against the wall2 a pair of wings being generally fastened on to the circular tablets1 as if to relieve the ribands and knots from their weight1 and the whole series tied under the chin of a little cherub at the top1 who is nailed against the faade like a hawk on a barn door4 ,but chiefly let him notice1 in the ,casa ,contarini delle ,figure1 one most strange incident1 seeming to have been permitted1 like the choice of the subjects at the three angles of the ,ducal ,palace1 in order to teach us1 by a single lesson1 the true nature of the style in which it occurs4 ,in the intervals of the windows of the first story1 certain shields and torches are attached1 in the form of trophies1 to the stems of two trees whose boughs have been cut off1 and only one or two of their faded leaves left1 scarcely observable1 but delicately sculptured here and there1 beneath the insertions of the severed boughs4 ,it is as if the workman had intended to leave us an image of the expiring naturalism of the ,gothic school4 ,i had not seen this sculpture when ,i wrote the passage referring to its period1 in the first volume of this work 7,chap4 ,,xx4 ,,xxxi473--,autumn came1--the leaves were shed1--and the eye was directed to the extremities of the delicate branches4 ,the ,renaissance frosts came1 and all perished6 ,,xxiv4 ,and the hues of this autumn of the early ,renaissance are the last which appear in architecture4 ,the winter which succeeded was colorless as it was cold2 and although the ,venetian painters struggled long against its influence1 the numbness of the architecture prevailed over them at last1 and the exteriors of all the latter palaces were built only in barren stone4 ,as at this point of our inquiry1 therefore1 we must bid farewell to color1 ,i have reserved for this place the continuation of the history of chromatic decoration1 from the ,byzantine period1 when we left it in the fifth chapter of the second volume1 down to its final close4 ,,xxv4 ,it was above stated1 that the principal difference in general form and treatment between the ,byzantine and ,gothic palaces was the contraction of the marble facing into the narrow spaces between the windows1 leaving large fields of brick wall perfectly bare4 ,the reason for this appears to have been1 that the ,gothic builders were no longer satisfied with the faint and delicate hues of the veined marble2 they wished for some more forcible and piquant mode of decoration1 corresponding more completely with the gradually advancing splendor of chivalric costume and heraldic device4 ,what ,i have said above of the simple habits of life of the thirteenth century1 in no wise refers either to costumes of state1 or of military service2 and any illumination of the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries 7the great period being1 it seems to me1 from #abej to #acej71 while it shows a peculiar majesty and simplicity in the fall of the robes 7often worn over the chain armor71 indicates1 at the same time1 an exquisite brilliancy of color and power of design in the hems and borders1 as well as in the armorial bearings with which they are charged2 and while1 as we have seen1 a peculiar simplicity is found also in the forms of the architecture1 corresponding to that of the folds of the robes1 its colors were constantly increasing in brilliancy and decision1 corresponding to those of the quartering of the shield1 and of the embroidery of the mantle4 ,,xxvi4 ,whether1 indeed1 derived from the quarterings of the knights' shields1 or from what other source1 ,i know not2 but there is one magnificent attribute of the coloring of the late twelfth1 the whole thirteenth1 and the early fourteenth century1 which ,i do not find definitely in any previous work1 nor afterwards in general art1 though constantly1 and necessarily1 in that of great colorists1 namely1 the union of one color with another by reciprocal interference3 that is to say1 if a mass of red is to be set beside a mass of blue1 a piece of the red will be carried into the blue1 and a piece of the blue carried into the red2 sometimes in nearly equal portions1 as in a shield divided into four quarters1 of which the uppermost on one side will be of the same color as the lowermost on the other2 sometimes in smaller fragments1 but1 in the periods above named1 always definitely and grandly1 though in a thousand various ways4 ,and ,i call it a magnificent principle1 for it is an eternal and universal one1 not in art only1#d but in human life4 ,it is the great principle of ,brotherhood1 not by equality1 nor by likeness1 but by giving and receiving2 the souls that are unlike1 and the nations that are unlike1 and the natures that are unlike1 being bound into one noble whole by each receiving something from1 and of1 the others' gifts and the others' glory4 ,i have not space to follow out this thought1--it is of infinite extent and application1--but ,i note it for the reader's pursuit1 because ,i have long believed1 and the whole second volume of ,modern ,painters was written to prove1 that in whatever has been made by the ,deity externally delightful to the human sense of beauty1 there is some type of ,god's nature or of ,god's laws2 nor are any of ,his laws1 in one sense1 greater than the appointment that the most lovely and perfect unity shall be obtained by the taking of one nature into another4 ,i trespass upon too high ground2 and yet ,i cannot fully show the reader the extent of this law1 but by leading him thus far4 ,and it is just because it is so vast and so awful a law1 that it has rule over the smallest things2 and there is not a vein of color on the lightest leaf which the spring winds are at this moment unfolding in the fields around us1 but it is an illustration of an ordainment to which the earth and its creatures owe their continuance1 and their ,redemption4 ,,xxvii4 ,it is perfectly inconceivable1 until it has been made a subject of special inquiry1 how perpetually ,nature employs this principle in the distribution of her light and shade2 how by the most extraordinary adaptations1 apparently accidental1 but always in exactly the right place1 she contrives to bring darkness into light1 and light into darkness2 and that so sharply and decisively1 that at the very instant when one object changes from light to dark1 the thing relieved upon it will change from dark to light1 and yet so subtly that the eye will not detect the transition till it looks for it4 ,the secret of a great part of the grandeur in all the noblest compositions is the doing of this delicately in degree1 and broadly in mass2 in color it may be done much more decisively than in light and shade1 and1 according to the simplicity of the work1 with greater frankness of confession1 until1 in purely decorative art1 as in the illumination1 glass-painting1 and heraldry of the great periods1 we find it reduced to segmental accuracy4 ,its greatest masters1 in high art1 are ,tintoret1 ,veronese1 and ,turner4 ,,xxviii4 ,together with this great principle of quartering is introduced another1 also of very high value as far as regards the delight of the eye1 though not of so profound meaning4 ,as soon as color began to be used in broad and opposed fields1 it was perceived that the mass of it destroyed its brilliancy1 and it was tempered by chequering it with some other color or colors in smaller quantities1 mingled with minute portions of pure white4 ,the two moral principles of which this is the type1 are those of ,temperance and ,purity2 the one requiring the fulness of the color to be subdued1 and the other that it shall be subdued without losing either its own purity or that of the colors with which it is associated4 ,,xxix4 ,hence arose the universal and admirable system of the diapered or chequered background of early ornamental art4 ,they are completely developed in the thirteenth century1 and extend through the whole of the fourteenth gradually yielding to landscape1 and other pictorial backgrounds1 as the designers lost perception of the purpose of their art1 and of the value of color4 ,the chromatic decoration of the ,gothic palaces of ,venice was of course founded on these two great principles1 which prevailed constantly wherever the true chivalric and ,gothic spirit possessed any influence4 ,the windows1 with their intermediate spaces of marble1 were considered as the objects to be relieved1 and variously quartered with vigorous color4 ,the whole space of the brick wall was considered as a background2 it was covered with stucco1 and painted in fresco1 with diaper patterns4 ,,xxx4 ,what8 the reader asks in some surprise1--,stucco6 and in the great ,gothic period8 ,even so1 but not stucco to imitate stone4 ,herein lies all the difference2 it is stucco confessed and understood1 and laid on the bricks precisely as gesso is laid on canvas1 in order to form them into a ground for receiving color from the human hand1--color which1 if well laid on1 might render the brick wall more precious than if it had been built of emeralds4 ,whenever we wish to paint1 we may prepare our paper as we choose2 the value of the ground in no wise adds to the value of the picture4 ,a ,tintoret on beaten gold would be of no more value than a ,tintoret on coarse canvas2 the gold would merely be wasted4 ,all that we have to do is to make the ground as good and fit for the color as possible1 by whatever means4 ,,xxxi4 ,i am not sure if ,i am right in applying the term stucco to the ground of fresco2 but this is of no consequence2 the reader will understand that it was white1 and that the whole wall of the palace was considered as the page of a book to be illuminated3 but he will understand also that the sea winds are bad librarians2 that1 when once the painted stucco began to fade or to fall1 the unsightliness of the defaced color would necessitate its immediate restoration2 and that therefore1 of all the chromatic decoration of the ,gothic palaces1 there is hardly a fragment left4 ,happily1 in the pictures of ,gentile ,bellini1 the fresco coloring of the ,gothic palaces is recorded1 as it still remained in his time2 not with rigid accuracy1 but quite distinctly enough to enable us1 by comparing it with the existing colored designs in the manuscripts and glass of the period1 to ascertain precisely what it must have been4 ,,xxxii4 ,the walls were generally covered with chequers of very warm color1 a russet inclining to scarlet1 more or less relieved with white1 black1 and grey2 as still seen in the only example which1 having been executed in marble1 has been perfectly preserved1 the front of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,this1 however1 owing to the nature of its materials1 was a peculiarly simple example2 the ground is white1 crossed with double bars of pale red1 and in the centre of each chequer there is a cross1 alternately black with a red centre and red with a black centre where the arms cross4 ,in painted work the grounds would be1 of course1 as varied and complicated as those of manuscripts2 but ,i only know of one example left1 on the ,casa ,sagredo1 where1 on some fragments of stucco1 a very early chequer background is traceable1 composed of crimson quatrefoils interlaced1 with cherubim stretching their wings filling the intervals4 ,a small portion of this ground is seen beside the window taken from the palace1 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,plate ,,xiii4 fig4 #a4 ,,xxxiii4 ,it ought to be especially noticed1 that1 in all chequered patterns employed in the colored designs of these noble periods1 the greatest care is taken to mark that they are grounds of design rather than designs themselves4 ,modern architects1 in such minor imitations as they are beginning to attempt1 endeavor to dispose the parts in the patterns so as to occupy certain symmetrical positions with respect to the parts of the architecture4 ,a ,gothic builder never does this3 he cuts his ground into pieces of the shape he requires with utter remorselessness1 and places his windows or doors upon it with no regard whatever to the lines in which they cut the pattern3 and1 in illuminations of manuscripts1 the chequer itself is constantly changed in the most subtle and arbitrary way1 wherever there is the least chance of its regularity attracting the eye1 and making it of importance4 ,so intentional is this1 that a diaper pattern is often set obliquely to the vertical lines of the designs1 for fear it should appear in any way connected with them4 ,,xxxiv4 ,on these russet or crimson backgrounds the entire space of the series of windows was relieved1 for the most part1 as a subdued white field of alabaster2 and on this delicate and veined white were set the circular disks of purple and green4 ,the arms of the family were of course blazoned in their own proper colors1 but ,i think generally on a pure azure ground2 the blue color is still left behind the shields in the ,casa ,priuli and one or two more of the palaces which are unrestored1 and the blue ground was used also to relieve the sculptures of religious subject4 ,finally1 all the mouldings1 capitals1 cornices1 cusps1 and traceries1 were either entirely gilded or profusely touched with gold4 ,the whole front of a ,gothic palace in ,venice may1 therefore1 be simply described as a field of subdued russet1 quartered with broad sculptured masses of white and gold2 these latter being relieved by smaller inlaid fragments of blue1 purple1 and deep green4 ,,xxxv4 ,now1 from the beginning of the fourteenth century1 when painting and architecture were thus united1 two processes of change went on simultaneously to the beginning of the seventeenth4 ,the merely decorative chequerings on the walls yielded gradually to more elaborate paintings of figure-subject2 first small and quaint1 and then enlarging into enormous pictures filled by figures generally colossal4 ,as these paintings became of greater merit and importance1 the architecture with which they were associated was less studied2 and at last a style was introduced in which the framework of the building was little more interesting than that of a ,manchester factory1 but the whole space of its walls was covered with the most precious fresco paintings4 ,such edifices are of course no longer to be considered as forming an architectural school2 they were merely large preparations of artists' panels2 and ,titian1 ,giorgione1 and ,veronese no more conferred merit on the later architecture of ,venice1 as such1 by painting on its faades1 than ,landseer or ,watts could confer merit on that of ,london by first whitewashing and then painting its brick streets from one end to the other4 ,,xxxvi4 ,contemporarily with this change in the relative values of the color decoration and the stone-work1 one equally important was taking place in the opposite direction1 but of course in another group of buildings4 ,for in proportion as the architect felt himself thrust aside or forgotten in one edifice1 he endeavored to make himself principal in another2 and1 in retaliation for the painter's entire usurpation of certain fields of design1 succeeded in excluding him totally from those in which his own influence was predominant4 ,or1 more accurately speaking1 the architects began to be too proud to receive assistance from the colorists2 and these latter sought for ground which the architect had abandoned1 for the unrestrained display of their own skill4 ,and thus1 while one series of edifices is continually becoming feebler in design and richer in superimposed paintings1 another1 that of which we have so often spoken as the earliest or ,byzantine ,renaissance1 fragment by fragment rejects the pictorial decoration2 supplies its place first with marbles1 and then1 as the latter are felt by the architect1 daily increasing in arrogance and deepening in coldness1 to be too bright for his dignity1 he casts even these aside one by one3 and when the last porphyry circle has vanished from the faade1 we find two palaces standing side by side1 one built1 so far as mere masonry goes1 with consummate care and skill1 but without the slightest vestige of color in any part of it2 the other utterly without any claim to interest in its architectural form1 but covered from top to bottom with paintings by ,veronese4 ,at this period1 then1 we bid farewell to color1 leaving the painters to their own peculiar field2 and only regretting that they waste their noblest work on walls1 from which in a couple of centuries1 if not before1 the greater part of their labor must be effaced4 ,on the other hand1 the architecture whose decline we are tracing1 has now assumed an entirely new condition1 that of the ,central or ,true ,renaissance1 whose nature we are to examine in the next chapter4 ,,xxxvii4 ,but before leaving these last palaces over which the ,byzantine influence extended itself1 there is one more lesson to be learned from them of much importance to us4 ,though in many respects debased in style1 they are consummate in workmanship1 and unstained in honor2 there is no imperfection in them1 and no dishonesty4 ,that there is absolutely no imperfection1 is indeed1 as we have seen above1 a proof of their being wanting in the highest qualities of architecture2 but1 as lessons in masonry1 they have their value1 and may well be studied for the excellence they display in methods of levelling stones1 for the precision of their inlaying1 and other such qualities1 which in them are indeed too principal1 yet very instructive in their particular way4 ,,xxxviii4 ,for instance1 in the inlaid design of the dove with the olive branch1 from the ,casa ,trevisan 7,vol4 ,i4 ,plate ,,xx4 p4 #cfi71 it is impossible for anything to go beyond the precision with which the olive leaves are cut out of the white marble2 and1 in some wreaths of laurel below1 the rippled edge of each leaf is as finely and easily drawn1 as if by a delicate pencil4 ,no ,florentine table is more exquisitely finished than the faade of this entire palace2 and as ideals of an executive perfection1 which1 though we must not turn aside from our main path to reach it1 may yet with much advantage be kept in our sight and memory1 these palaces are most notable amidst the architecture of ,europe4 ,the ,rio ,faade of the ,ducal ,palace1 though very sparing in color1 is yet1 as an example of finished masonry in a vast building1 one of the finest things1 not only in ,venice1 but in the world4 ,it differs from other work of the ,byzantine ,renaissance1 in being on a very large scale2 and it still retains one pure ,gothic character1 which adds not a little to its nobleness1 that of perpetual variety4 ,there is hardly one window of it1 or one panel1 that is like another2 and this continual change so increases its apparent size by confusing the eye1 that1 though presenting no bold features1 or striking masses of any kind1 there are few things in ,italy more impressive than the vision of it overhead1 as the gondola glides from beneath the ,bridge of ,sighs4 ,and lastly 7unless we are to blame these buildings for some pieces of very childish perspective71 they are magnificently honest1 as well as perfect4 ,i do not remember even any gilding upon them2 all is pure marble1 and of the finest kind4#e ,and therefore1 in finally leaving the ,ducal ,palace1#f let us take with us one more lesson1 the last which we shall receive from the ,stones of ,venice1 except in the form of a warning4 ,,xxxix4 ,the school of architecture which we have just been examining is1 as we have seen above1 redeemed from severe condemnation by its careful and noble use of inlaid marbles as a means of color4 ,from that time forward1 this art has been unknown1 or despised2 the frescoes of the swift and daring ,venetian painters long contended with the inlaid marbles1 outvying them with color1 indeed more glorious than theirs1 but fugitive as the hues of woods in autumn2 and1 at last1 as the art itself of painting in this mighty manner failed from among men1#g the modern decorative system established itself1 which united the meaninglessness of the veined marble with the evanescence of the fresco1 and completed the harmony by falsehood4 ,,xl4 ,since first1 in the second chapter of the ,seven ,lamps1 ,i endeavored to show the culpableness1 as well as the baseness1 of our common modes of decoration by painted imitation of various woods or marbles1 the subject has been discussed in various architectural works1 and is evidently becoming one of daily increasing interest4 ,when it is considered how many persons there are whose means of livelihood consist altogether in these spurious arts1 and how difficult it is1 even for the most candid1 to admit a conviction contrary both to their interests and to their inveterate habits of practice and thought1 it is rather a matter of wonder1 that the cause of ,truth should have found even a few maintainers1 than that it should have encountered a host of adversaries4 ,it has1 however1 been defended repeatedly by architects themselves1 and so successfully1 that ,i believe1 so far as the desirableness of this or that method of ornamentation is to be measured by the fact of its simple honesty or dishonesty1 there is little need to add anything to what has been already urged upon the subject4 ,but there are some points connected with the practice of imitating marble1 which ,i have been unable to touch upon until now1 and by the consideration of which we may be enabled to see something of the policy of honesty in this matter1 without in the least abandoning the higher ground of principle4 ,,xli4 ,consider1 then1 first1 what marble seems to have been made for4 ,over the greater part of the surface of the world1 we find that a rock has been providentially distributed1 in a manner particularly pointing it out as intended for the service of man4 ,not altogether a common rock1 it is yet rare enough to command a certain degree of interest and attention wherever it is found2 but not so rare as to preclude its use for any purpose to which it is fitted4 ,it is exactly of the consistence which is best adapted for sculpture3 that is to say1 neither hard nor brittle1 nor flaky nor splintery1 but uniform1 and delicately1 yet not ignobly1 soft1--exactly soft enough to allow the sculptor to work it without force1 and trace on it the finest lines of finished form2 and yet so hard as never to betray the touch or moulder away beneath the steel2 and so admirably crystallized1 and of such permanent elements1 that no rains dissolve it1 no time changes it1 no atmosphere decomposes it3 once shaped1 it is shaped for ever1 unless subjected to actual violence or attrition4 ,this rock1 then1 is prepared by ,nature for the sculptor and architect1 just as paper is prepared by the manufacturer for the artist1 with as great--nay1 with greater--care1 and more perfect adaptation of the material to the requirements4 ,and of this marble paper1 some is white and some colored2 but more is colored than white1 because the white is evidently meant for sculpture1 and the colored for the covering of large surfaces4 ,,xlii4 ,now1 if we would take ,nature at her word1 and use this precious paper which she has taken so much care to provide for us 7it is a long process1 the making of that paper2 the pulp of it needing the subtlest possible solution1 and the pressing of it--for it is all hot-pressed--having to be done under the saw1 or under something at least as heavy72 if1 ,i say1 we use it as ,nature would have us1 consider what advantages would follow4 ,the colors of marble are mingled for us just as if on a prepared palette4 ,they are of all shades and hues 7except bad ones71 some being united and even1 some broken1 mixed1 and interrupted1 in order to supply1 as far as possible1 the want of the painter's power of breaking and mingling the color with the brush4 ,but there is more in the colors than this delicacy of adaptation4 ,there is history in them4 ,by the manner in which they are arranged in every piece of marble1 they record the means by which that marble has been produced1 and the successive changes through which it has passed4 ,and in all their veins and zones1 and flame-like stainings1 or broken and disconnected lines1 they write various legends1 never untrue1 of the former political state of the mountain kingdom to which they belonged1 of its infirmities and fortitudes1 convulsions and consolidations1 from the beginning of time4 ,now1 if we were never in the habit of seeing anything but real marbles1 this language of theirs would soon begin to be understood2 that is to say1 even the least observant of us would recognize such and such stones as forming a peculiar class1 and would begin to inquire where they came from1 and1 at last1 take some feeble interest in the main question1 ,why they were only to be found in that or the other place1 and how they came to make a part of this mountain1 and not of that8 ,and in a little while1 it would not be possible to stand for a moment at a shop door1 leaning against the pillars of it1 without remembering or questioning of something well worth the memory or the inquiry1 touching the hills of ,italy1 or ,greece1 or ,africa1 or ,spain2 and we should be led on from knowledge to knowledge1 until even the unsculptured walls of our streets became to us volumes as precious as those of our libraries4 ,,xliii4 ,but the moment we admit imitation of marble1 this source of knowledge is destroyed4 ,none of us can be at the pains to go through the work of verification4 ,if we knew that every colored stone we saw was natural1 certain questions1 conclusions1 interests1 would force themselves upon us without any effort of our own2 but we have none of us time to stop in the midst of our daily business1 to touch and pore over1 and decide with painful minuteness of investigation1 whether such and such a pillar be stucco or stone4 ,and the whole field of this knowledge1 which ,nature intended us to possess when we were children1 is hopelessly shut out from us4 ,worse than shut out1 for the mass of coarse imitations confuses our knowledge acquired from other sources2 and our memory of the marbles we have perhaps once or twice carefully examined1 is disturbed and distorted by the inaccuracy of the imitations which are brought before us continually4 ,,xliv4 ,but it will be said1 that it is too expensive to employ real marbles in ordinary cases4 ,it may be so3 yet not always more expensive than the fitting windows with enormous plate glass1 and decorating them with elaborate stucco mouldings and other useless sources of expenditure in modern building2 nay1 not always in the end more expensive than the frequent repainting of the dingy pillars1 which a little water dashed against them would refresh from day to day1 if they were of true stone4 ,but1 granting that it be so1 in that very costliness1 checking their common use in certain localities1 is part of the interest of marbles1 considered as history4 ,where they are not found1 ,nature has supplied other materials1--clay for brick1 or forest for timber1--in the working of which she intends other characters of the human mind to be developed1 and by the proper use of which certain local advantages will assuredly be attained1 while the delightfulness and meaning of the precious marbles will be felt more forcibly in the districts where they occur1 or on the occasions when they may be procured4 ,,xlv4 ,it can hardly be necessary to add1 that1 as the imitation of marbles interferes with and checks the knowledge of geography and geology1 so the imitation of wood interferes with that of botany2 and that our acquaintance with the nature1 uses1 and manner of growth of the timber trees of our own and of foreign countries1 would probably1 in the majority of cases1 become accurate and extensive1 without any labor or sacrifice of time1 were not all inquiry checked1 and all observation betrayed1 by the wretched labors of the ,grainer4 ,,xlvi4 ,but this is not all4 ,as the practice of imitation retards knowledge1 so also it retards art4 ,there is not a meaner occupation for the human mind than the imitation of the stains and stri of marble and wood4 ,when engaged in any easy and simple mechanical occupation1 there is still some liberty for the mind to leave the literal work2 and the clash of the loom or the activity of the fingers will not always prevent the thoughts from some happy expatiation in their own domains4 ,but the grainer must think of what he is doing2 and veritable attention and care1 and occasionally considerable skill1 are consumed in the doing of a more absolute nothing than ,i can name in any other department of painful idleness4 ,i know not anything so humiliating as to see a human being1 with arms and limbs complete1 and apparently a head1 and assuredly a soul1 yet into the hands of which when you have put a brush and pallet1 it cannot do anything with them but imitate a piece of wood4 ,it cannot color1 it has no ideas of color2 it cannot draw1 it has no ideas of form2 it cannot caricature1 it has no ideas of humor4 ,it is incapable of anything beyond knots4 ,all its achievement1 the entire result of the daily application of its imagination and immortality1 is to be such a piece of texture as the sun and dew are sucking up out of the muddy ground1 and weaving together1 far more finely1 in millions of millions of growing branches1 over every rood of waste woodland and shady hill4 ,,xlvii4 ,but what is to be done1 the reader asks1 with men who are capable of nothing else than this8 ,nay1 they may be capable of everything else1 for all we know1 and what we are to do with them ,i will try to say in the next chapter2 but meanwhile one word more touching the higher principles of action in this matter1 from which we have descended to those of expediency4 ,i trust that some day the language of ,types will be more read and understood by us than it has been for centuries2 and when this language1 a better one than either ,greek or ,latin1 is again recognized amongst us1 we shall find1 or remember1 that as the other visible elements of the universe--its air1 its water1 and its flame--set forth1 in their pure energies1 the life-giving1 purifying1 and sanctifying influences of the ,deity upon ,his creatures1 so the earth1 in its purity1 sets forth ,his eternity and ,his ,,truth4 ,i have dwelt above on the historical language of stones2 let us not forget this1 which is their theological language2 and1 as we would not wantonly pollute the fresh waters when they issue forth in their clear glory from the rock1 nor stay the mountain winds into pestilential stagnancy1 nor mock the sunbeams with artificial and ineffective light2 so let us not by our own base and barren falsehoods1 replace the crystalline strength and burning color of the earth from which we were born1 and to which we must return2 the earth which1 like our own bodies1 though dust in its degradation1 is full of splendor when ,god's hand gathers its atoms2 and which was for ever sanctified by ,him1 as the symbol no less of ,his love than of ,his truth1 when ,he bade the high priest bear the names of the ,children of ,israel on the clear stones of the ,breastplate of ,judgment4 ,,footnotes3 #a ,there is a curious instance of this in the modern imitations of the ,gothic capitals of the ,casa d' ,oro1 employed in its restorations4 ,the old capitals look like clusters of leaves1 the modern ones like kneaded masses of dough with holes in them4 #b ,not that even these men were able to wear it altogether without harm1 as we shall see in the next chapter4 #c ,appendix #d1 ,date of ,palaces of ,byzantine ,renaissance4 #d ,in the various works which ,mr4 ,prout has written on light and shade1 no principle will be found insisted on more strongly than this carrying of the dark into the light1 and vice versa4 ,it is curious to find the untaught instinct of a merely picturesque artist in the nineteenth century1 fixing itself so intensely on a principle which regulated the entire sacred composition of the thirteenth4 ,i say untaught instinct1 for ,mr4 ,prout was1 throughout his life1 the discoverer of his own principles2 fortunately so1 considering what principles were taught in his time1 but unfortunately in the abstract1 for there were gifts in him1 which1 had there been any wholesome influences to cherish them1 might have made him one of the greatest men of his age4 ,he was great1 under all adverse circumstances1 but the mere wreck of what he might have been1 if1 after the rough training noticed in my pamphlet on ,pre-,raphaelitism1 as having fitted him for his great function in the world1 he had met with a teacher who could have appreciated his powers1 and directed them4 #e ,there may1 however1 be a kind of dishonesty even in the use of marble1 if it is attempted to make the marble look like something else4 ,see the final or ,venetian ,index under head ,scalzi4 #f ,appendix #e1 ,renaissance ,side of ,ducal ,palace4 #g ,we have1 as far as ,i know1 at present among us1 only one painter1 ,g4 ,f4 ,watts1 who is capable of design in color on a large scale4 ,he stands alone among our artists of the old school1 in his perception of the value of breadth in distant masses1 and in the vigor of invention by which such breadth must be sustained2 and his power of expression and depth of thought are not less remarkable than his bold conception of color effect4 ,very probably some of the ,pre-,raphaelites have the gift also2 ,i am nearly certain that ,rosetti has it1 and ,i think also ,millais2 but the experiment has yet to be tried4 ,i wish it could be made in ,mr4 ,hope's church in ,margaret ,street4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,roman ,,renaissance4 ,i4 ,of all the buildings in ,venice1 later in date than the final additions to the ,ducal ,palace1 the noblest is1 beyond all question1 that which1 having been condemned by its proprietor1 not many years ago1 to be pulled down and sold for the value of its materials1 was rescued by the ,austrian government1 and appropriated--the government officers having no other use for it--to the business of the ,post-,office2 though still known to the gondolier by its ancient name1 the ,casa ,grimani4 ,it is composed of three stories of the ,corinthian order1 at once simple1 delicate1 and sublime2 but on so colossal a scale1 that the three-storied palaces on its right and left only reach to the cornice which marks the level of its first floor4 ,yet it is not at first perceived to be so vast2 and it is only when some expedient is employed to hide it from the eye1 that by the sudden dwarfing of the whole reach of the ,grand ,canal1 which it commands1 we become aware that it is to the majesty of the ,casa ,grimani that the ,rialto itself1 and the whole group of neighboring buildings1 owe the greater part of their impressiveness4 ,nor is the finish of its details less notable than the grandeur of their scale4 ,there is not an erring line1 nor a mistaken proportion1 throughout its noble front2 and the exceeding fineness of the chiselling gives an appearance of lightness to the vast blocks of stone out of whose perfect union that front is composed4 ,the decoration is sparing1 but delicate3 the first story only simpler than the rest1 in that it has pilasters instead of shafts1 but all with ,corinthian capitals1 rich in leafage1 and fruited delicately2 the rest of the walls flat and smooth1 and the mouldings sharp and shallow1 so that the bold shafts look like crystals of beryl running through a rock of quartz4 ,,ii4 ,this palace is the principal type at ,venice1 and one of the best in ,europe1 of the central architecture of the ,renaissance schools2 that carefully studied and perfectly executed architecture to which those schools owe their principal claims to our respect1 and which became the model of most of the important works subsequently produced by civilized nations4 ,i have called it the ,roman ,renaissance1 because it is founded1 both in its principles of superimposition1 and in the style of its ornament1 upon the architecture of classic ,rome at its best period4 ,the revival of ,latin literature both led to its adoption1 and directed its form2 and the most important example of it which exists is the modern ,roman basilica of ,st4 ,peter's4 ,it had1 at its ,renaissance or new birth1 no resemblance either to ,greek1 ,gothic1 or ,byzantine forms1 except in retaining the use of the round arch1 vault1 and dome2 in the treatment of all details1 it was exclusively ,latin2 the last links of connexion with medival tradition having been broken by its builders in their enthusiasm for classical art1 and the forms of true ,greek or ,athenian architecture being still unknown to them4 ,the study of these noble ,greek forms has induced various modifications of the ,renaissance in our own times2 but the conditions which are found most applicable to the uses of modern life are still ,roman1 and the entire style may most fitly be expressed by the term ,roman ,renaissance4 ,,iii4 ,it is this style1 in its purity and fullest form1--represented by such buildings as the ,casa ,grimani at ,venice 7built by ,san ,micheli71 the ,town ,hall at ,vicenza 7by ,palladio71 ,st4 ,peter's at ,rome 7by ,michael ,angelo71 ,st4 ,paul's and ,whitehall in ,london 7by ,wren and ,inigo ,jones71--which is the true antagonist of the ,gothic school4 ,the intermediate1 or corrupt conditions of it1 though multiplied over ,europe1 are no longer admired by architects1 or made the subjects of their study2 but the finished work of this central school is still1 in most cases1 the model set before the student of the nineteenth century1 as opposed to those ,gothic1 ,romanesque1 or ,byzantine forms which have long been considered barbarous1 and are so still by most of the leading men of the day4 ,that they are1 on the contrary1 most noble and beautiful1 and that the antagonistic ,renaissance is1 in the main1 unworthy and unadmirable1 whatever perfection of a certain kind it may possess1 it was my principal purpose to show1 when ,i first undertook the labor of this work4 ,it has been attempted already to put before the reader the various elements which unite in the ,nature of ,gothic1 and to enable him thus to judge1 not merely of the beauty of the forms which that system has produced already1 but of its future applicability to the wants of mankind1 and endless power over their hearts4 ,i would now endeavor1 in like manner1 to set before the reader the ,nature of ,renaissance1 and thus to enable him to compare the two styles under the same light1 and with the same enlarged view of their relations to the intellect1 and capacities for the service1 of man4 ,,iv4 ,it will not be necessary for me to enter at length into any examination of its external form4 ,it uses1 whether for its roofs of aperture or roofs proper1 the low gable or circular arch3 but it differs from ,romanesque work in attaching great importance to the horizontal lintel or architrave above the arch2 transferring the energy of the principal shafts to the supporting of this horizontal beam1 and thus rendering the arch a subordinate1 if not altogether a superfluous1 feature4 ,the type of this arrangement has been given already at c1 ,fig4 ,,xxxvi41 p4 #ade1 ,vol4 ,i43 and ,i might insist at length upon the absurdity of a construction in which the shorter shaft1 which has the real weight of wall to carry1 is split into two by the taller one1 which has nothing to carry at all1--that taller one being strengthened1 nevertheless1 as if the whole weight of the building bore upon it2 and on the ungracefulness1 never conquered in any ,palladian work1 of the two half-capitals glued1 as it were1 against the slippery round sides of the central shaft4 ,but it is not the form of this architecture against which ,i would plead4 ,its defects are shared by many of the noblest forms of earlier building1 and might have been entirely atoned for by excellence of spirit4 ,but it is the moral nature of it which is corrupt1 and which it must1 therefore1 be our principal business to examine and expose4 ,v4 ,the moral1 or immoral1 elements which unite to form the spirit of ,central ,renaissance architecture are1 ,i believe1 in the main1 two1--,pride and ,infidelity2 but the pride resolves itself into three main branches1--,pride of ,science1 ,pride of ,state1 and ,pride of ,system3 and thus we have four separate mental conditions which must be examined successively4 ,,vi4 #a4 ,,pride ,,of ,,science4 ,it would have been more charitable1 but more confusing1 to have added another element to our list1 namely the ,love of ,science2 but the love is included in the pride1 and is usually so very subordinate an element that it does not deserve equality of nomenclature4 ,but1 whether pursued in pride or in affection 7how far by either we shall see presently71 the first notable characteristic of the ,renaissance central school is its introduction of accurate knowledge into all its work1 so far as it possesses such knowledge2 and its evident conviction1 that such science is necessary to the excellence of the work1 and is the first thing to be expressed therein4 ,so that all the forms introduced1 even in its minor ornament1 are studied with the utmost care2 the anatomy of all animal structure is thoroughly understood and elaborately expressed1 and the whole of the execution skilful and practised in the highest degree4 ,perspective1 linear and aerial1 perfect drawing and accurate light and shade in painting1 and true anatomy in all representations of the human form1 drawn or sculptured1 are the first requirements in all the work of this school4 ,,vii4 ,now1 first considering all this in the most charitable light1 as pursued from a real love of truth1 and not from vanity1 it would1 of course1 have been all excellent and admirable1 had it been regarded as the aid of art1 and not as its essence4 ,but the grand mistake of the ,renaissance schools lay in supposing that science and art are the same things1 and that to advance in the one was necessarily to perfect the other4 ,whereas they are1 in reality1 things not only different1 but so opposed1 that to advance in the one is1 in ninety-nine cases out of the hundred1 to retrograde in the other4 ,this is the point to which ,i would at present especially bespeak the reader's attention4 ,,viii4 ,science and art are commonly distinguished by the nature of their actions2 the one as knowing1 the other as changing1 producing1 or creating4 ,but there is a still more important distinction in the nature of the things they deal with4 ,science deals exclusively with things as they are in themselves2 and art exclusively with things as they affect the human senses and human soul4#h ,her work is to portray the appearance of things1 and to deepen the natural impressions which they produce upon living creatures4 ,the work of science is to substitute facts for appearances1 and demonstrations for impressions4 ,both1 observe1 are equally concerned with truth2 the one with truth of aspect1 the other with truth of essence4 ,art does not represent things falsely1 but truly as they appear to mankind4 ,science studies the relations of things to each other3 but art studies only their relations to man2 and it requires of everything which is submitted to it imperatively this1 and only this1--what that thing is to the human eyes and human heart1 what it has to say to men1 and what it can become to them3 a field of question just as much vaster than that of science1 as the soul is larger than the material creation4 ,,ix4 ,take a single instance4 ,science informs us that the sun is ninety-five millions of miles distant from1 and #aaa times broader than1 the earth2 that we and all the planets revolve round it2 and that it revolves on its own axis in #be days1 #ad hours and #d minutes4 ,with all this1 art has nothing whatsoever to do4 ,it has no care to know anything of this kind4 ,but the things which it does care to know1 are these3 that in the heavens ,god hath set a tabernacle for the sun1 which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber1 and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race4 ,his going forth is from the end of the heaven1 and his circuit unto the ends of it1 and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof4 ,x4 ,this1 then1 being the kind of truth with which art is exclusively concerned1 how is such truth as this to be ascertained and accumulated8 ,evidently1 and only1 by perception and feeling4 ,never either by reasoning1 or report4 ,nothing must come between ,nature and the artist's sight2 nothing between ,god and the artist's soul4 ,neither calculation nor hearsay1--be it the most subtle of calculations1 or the wisest of sayings1--may be allowed to come between the universe1 and the witness which art bears to its visible nature4 ,the whole value of that witness depends on its being eye-witness2 the whole genuineness1 acceptableness1 and dominion of it depend on the personal assurance of the man who utters it4 ,all its victory depends on the veracity of the one preceding word1 ,vidi4 ,the whole function of the artist in the world is to be a seeing and feeling creature2 to be an instrument of such tenderness and sensitiveness1 that no shadow1 no hue1 no line1 no instantaneous and evanescent expression of the visible things around him1 nor any of the emotions which they are capable of conveying to the spirit which has been given him1 shall either be left unrecorded1 or fade from the book of record4 ,it is not his business either to think1 to judge1 to argue1 or to know4 ,his place is neither in the closet1 nor on the bench1 nor at the bar1 nor in the library4 ,they are for other men and other work4 ,he may think1 in a by-way2 reason1 now and then1 when he has nothing better to do2 know1 such fragments of knowledge as he can gather without stooping1 or reach without pains2 but none of these things are to be his care4 ,the work of his life is to be twofold only3 to see1 to feel4 ,,xi4 ,nay1 but1 the reader perhaps pleads with me1 one of the great uses of knowledge is to open the eyes2 to make things perceivable which1 never would have been seen1 unless first they had been known4 ,not so4 ,this could only be said or believed by those who do not know what the perceptive faculty of a great artist is1 in comparison with that of other men4 ,there is no great painter1 no great workman in any art1 but he sees more with the glance of a moment than he could learn by the labor of a thousand hours4 ,god has made every man fit for his work2 ,he has given to the man whom he means for a student1 the reflective1 logical1 sequential faculties2 and to the man whom ,he means for an artist1 the perceptive1 sensitive1 retentive faculties4 ,and neither of these men1 so far from being able to do the other's work1 can even comprehend the way in which it is done4 ,the student has no understanding of the vision1 nor the painter of the process2 but chiefly the student has no idea of the colossal grasp of the true painter's vision and sensibility4 ,the labor of the whole ,geological ,society1 for the last fifty years1 has but now arrived at the ascertainment of those truths respecting mountain form which ,turner saw and expressed with a few strokes of a camel's hair pencil fifty years ago1 when he was a boy4 ,the knowledge of all the laws of the planetary system1 and of all the curves of the motion of projectiles1 would never enable the man of science to draw a waterfall or a wave2 and all the members of ,surgeons' ,hall helping each other could not at this moment see1 or represent1 the natural movement of a human body in vigorous action1 as a poor dyer's son did two hundred years ago4#i ,,xii4 ,but surely1 it is still insisted1 granting this peculiar faculty to the painter1 he will still see more as he knows more1 and the more knowledge he obtains1 therefore1 the better4 ,no2 not even so4 ,it is indeed true1 that1 here and there1 a piece of knowledge will enable the eye to detect a truth which might otherwise have escaped it2 as1 for instance1 in watching a sunrise1 the knowledge of the true nature of the orb may lead the painter to feel more profoundly1 and express more fully1 the distance between the bars of cloud that cross it1 and the sphere of flame that lifts itself slowly beyond them into the infinite heaven4 ,but1 for one visible truth to which knowledge thus opens the eyes1 it seals them to a thousand3 that is to say1 if the knowledge occur to the mind so as to occupy its powers of contemplation at the moment when the sight work is to be done1 the mind retires inward1 fixes itself upon the known fact1 and forgets the passing visible ones2 and a moment of such forgetfulness loses more to the painter than a day's thought can gain4 ,this is no new or strange assertion4 ,every person accustomed to careful reflection of any kind1 knows that its natural operation is to close his eyes to the external world4 ,while he is thinking deeply1 he neither sees nor feels1 even though naturally he may possess strong powers of sight and emotion4 ,he who1 having journeyed all day beside the ,leman ,lake1 asked of his companions1 at evening1 where it was1#aj probably was not wanting in sensibility2 but he was generally a thinker1 not a perceiver4 ,and this instance is only an extreme one of the effect which1 in all cases1 knowledge1 becoming a subject of reflection1 produces upon the sensitive faculties4 ,it must be but poor and lifeless knowledge1 if it has no tendency to force itself forward1 and become ground for reflection1 in despite of the succession of external objects4 ,it will not obey their succession4 ,the first that comes gives it food enough for its day's work2 it is its habit1 its duty1 to cast the rest aside1 and fasten upon that4 ,the first thing that a thinking and knowing man sees in the course of the day1 he will not easily quit4 ,it is not his way to quit anything without getting to the bottom of it1 if possible4 ,but the artist is bound to receive all things on the broad1 white1 lucid field of his soul1 not to grasp at one4 ,for instance1 as the knowing and thinking man watches the sunrise1 he sees something in the color of a ray1 or the change of a cloud1 that is new to him2 and this he follows out forthwith into a labyrinth of optical and pneumatical laws1 perceiving no more clouds nor rays all the morning4 ,but the painter must catch all the rays1 all the colors that come1 and see them all truly1 all in their real relations and succession2 therefore1 everything that occupies room in his mind he must cast aside for the time1 as completely as may be4 ,the thoughtful man is gone far away to seek2 but the perceiving man must sit still1 and open his heart to receive4 ,the thoughtful man is knitting and sharpening himself into a two-edged sword1 wherewith to pierce4 ,the perceiving man is stretching himself into a four-cornered sheet wherewith to catch4 ,and all the breadth to which he can expand himself1 and all the white emptiness into which he can blanch himself1 will not be enough to receive what ,god has to give him4 ,,xiii4 ,what1 then1 it will be indignantly asked1 is an utterly ignorant and unthinking man likely to make the best artist8 ,no1 not so neither4 ,knowledge is good for him so long as he can keep it utterly1 servilely1 subordinate to his own divine work1 and trample it under his feet1 and out of his way1 the moment it is likely to entangle him4 ,and in this respect1 observe1 there is an enormous difference between knowledge and education4 ,an artist need not be a learned man1 in all probability it will be a disadvantage to him to become so2 but he ought1 if possible1 always to be an educated man3 that is1 one who has understanding of his own uses and duties in the world1 and therefore of the general nature of the things done and existing in the world2 and who has so trained himself1 or been trained1 as to turn to the best and most courteous account whatever faculties or knowledge he has4 ,the mind of an educated man is greater than the knowledge it possesses2 it is like the vault of heaven1 encompassing the earth which lives and flourishes beneath it3 but the mind of an educated and learned man is like a caoutchouc band1 with an everlasting spirit of contraction in it1 fastening together papers which it cannot open1 and keeps others from opening4 ,half our artists are ruined for want of education1 and by the possession of knowledge2 the best that ,i have known have been educated1 and illiterate4 ,the ideal of an artist1 however1 is not that he should be illiterate1 but well read in the best books1 and thoroughly high bred1 both in heart and in bearing4 ,in a word1 he should be fit for the best society1 and should keep out of it4#aa ,,xiv4 ,there are1 indeed1 some kinds of knowledge with which an artist ought to be thoroughly furnished2 those1 for instance1 which enable him to express himself2 for this knowledge relieves instead of encumbering his mind1 and permits it to attend to its purposes instead of wearying itself about means4 ,the whole mystery of manipulation and manufacture should be familiar to the painter from a child4 ,he should know the chemistry of all colors and materials whatsoever1 and should prepare all his colors himself1 in a little laboratory of his own4 ,limiting his chemistry to this one object1 the amount of practical science necessary for it1 and such accidental discoveries as might fall in his way in the course of his work1 of better colors or better methods of preparing them1 would be an infinite refreshment to his mind2 a minor subject of interest to which it might turn when jaded with comfortless labor1 or exhausted with feverish invention1 and yet which would never interfere with its higher functions1 when it chose to address itself to them4 ,even a considerable amount of manual labor1 sturdy color-grinding and canvas-stretching1 would be advantageous2 though this kind of work ought to be in great part done by pupils4 ,for it is one of the conditions of perfect knowledge in these matters1 that every great master should have a certain number of pupils1 to whom he is to impart all the knowledge of materials and means which he himself possesses1 as soon as possible2 so that1 at any rate1 by the time they are fifteen years old1 they may know all that he knows himself in this kind2 that is to say1 all that the world of artists know1 and his own discoveries besides1 and so never be troubled about methods any more4 ,not that the knowledge even of his own particular methods is to be of purpose confined to himself and his pupils1 but that necessarily it must be so in some degree2 for only those who see him at work daily can understand his small and multitudinous ways of practice4 ,these cannot verbally be explained to everybody1 nor is it needful that they should1 only let them be concealed from nobody who cares to see them2 in which case1 of course1 his attendant scholars will know them best4 ,but all that can be made public in matters of this kind should be so with all speed1 every artist throwing his discovery into the common stock1 and the whole body of artists taking such pains in this department of science as that there shall be no unsettled questions about any known material or method3 that it shall be an entirely ascertained and indisputable matter which is the best white1 and which the best brown2 which the strongest canvas1 and safest varnish2 and which the shortest and most perfect way of doing everything known up to that time3 and if any one discovers a better1 he is to make it public forthwith4 ,all of them taking care to embarrass themselves with no theories or reasons for anything1 but to work empirically only3 it not being in any wise their business to know whether light moves in rays or in waves2 or whether the blue rays of the spectrum move slower or faster than the rest2 but simply to know how many minutes and seconds such and such a powder must be calcined1 to give the brightest blue4 ,,xv4 ,now it is perhaps the most exquisite absurdity of the whole ,renaissance system1 that while it has encumbered the artist with every species of knowledge that is of no use to him1 this one precious and necessary knowledge it has utterly lost4 ,there is not1 ,i believe1 at this moment1 a single question which could be put respecting pigments and methods1 on which the body of living artists would agree in their answers4 ,the lives of artists are passed in fruitless experiments2 fruitless1 because undirected by experience and uncommunicated in their results4 ,every man has methods of his own1 which he knows to be insufficient1 and yet jealously conceals from his fellow-workmen3 every colorman has materials of his own1 to which it is rare that the artist can trust3 and in the very front of the majestic advance of chemical science1 the empirical science of the artist has been annihilated1 and the days which should have led us to higher perfection are passed in guessing at1 or in mourning over1 lost processes2 while the so-called ,dark ages1 possessing no more knowledge of chemistry than a village herbalist does now1 discovered1 established1 and put into daily practice such methods of operation as have made their work1 at this day1 the despair of all who look upon it4 ,,xvi4 ,and yet even this1 to the painter1 the safest of sciences1 and in some degree necessary1 has its temptations1 and capabilities of abuse4 ,for the simplest means are always enough for a great man2 and when once he has obtained a few ordinary colors1 which he is sure will stand1 and a white surface that will not darken nor moulder1 nor rend1 he is master of the world1 and of his fellow-men4 ,and1 indeed1 as if in these times we were bent on furnishing examples of every species of opposite error1 while we have suffered the traditions to escape us of the simple methods of doing simple things1 which are enough for all the arts1 and to all the ages1 we have set ourselves to discover fantastic modes of doing fantastic things1--new mixtures and manipulations of metal1 and porcelain1 and leather1 and paper1 and every conceivable condition of false substance and cheap work1 to our own infinitely multiplied confusion1--blinding ourselves daily more and more to the great1 changeless1 and inevitable truth1 that there is but one goodness in art2 and that is one which the chemist cannot prepare1 nor the merchant cheapen1 for it comes only of a rare human hand1 and rare human soul4 ,,xvii4 ,within its due limits1 however1 here is one branch of science which the artist may pursue2 and1 within limits still more strict1 another also1 namely1 the science of the appearances of things as they have been ascertained and registered by his fellow-men4 ,for no day passes but some visible fact is pointed out to us by others1 which1 without their help1 we should not have noticed2 and the accumulation and generalization of visible facts have formed1 in the succession of ages1 the sciences of light and shade1 and perspective1 linear and aerial3 so that the artist is now at once put in possession of certain truths respecting the appearances of things1 which1 so pointed out to him1 any man may in a few days understand and acknowledge2 but which1 without aid1 he could not probably discover in his lifetime4 ,i say1 probably could not1 because the time which the history of art shows us to have been actually occupied in the discovery and systematization of such truth1 is no measure of the time necessary for such discovery4 ,the lengthened period which elapsed between the earliest and the perfect developement of the science of light 7if ,i may so call it7 was not occupied in the actual effort to ascertain its laws1 but in acquiring the disposition to make that effort4 ,it did not take five centuries to find out the appearance of natural objects2 but it took five centuries to make people care about representing them4 ,an artist of the twelfth century did not desire to represent nature4 ,his work was symbolical and ornamental4 ,so long as it was intelligible and lovely1 he had no care to make it like nature4 ,as1 for instance1 when an old painter represented the glory round a saint's head by a burnished plate of pure gold1 he had no intention of imitating an effect of light4 ,he meant to tell the spectator that the figure so decorated was a saint1 and to produce splendor of effect by the golden circle4 ,it was no matter to him what light was like4 ,so soon as it entered into his intention to represent the appearance of light1 he was not long in discovering the natural facts necessary for his purpose4 ,,xviii4 ,but1 this being fully allowed1 it is still true that the accumulation of facts now known respecting visible phenomena1 is greater than any man could hope to gather for himself1 and that it is well for him to be made acquainted with them2 provided always1 that he receive them only at their true value1 and do not suffer himself to be misled by them4 ,i say1 at their true value2 that is1 an exceedingly small one4 ,all the information which men can receive from the accumulated experience of others1 is of no use but to enable them more quickly and accurately to see for themselves4 ,it will in no wise take the place of this personal sight4 ,nothing can be done well in art1 except by vision4 ,scientific principles and experiences are helps to the eye1 as a microscope is2 and they are of exactly as much use without the eye4 ,no science of perspective1 or of anything else1 will enable us to draw the simplest natural line accurately1 unless we see it and feel it4 ,science is soon at her wits' end4 ,all the professors of perspective in ,europe1 could not1 by perspective1 draw the line of curve of a sea beach2 nay1 could not outline one pool of the quiet water left among the sand4 ,the eye and hand can do it1 nothing else4 ,all the rules of aerial perspective that ever were written1 will not tell me how sharply the pines on the hill-top are drawn at this moment on the sky4 ,i shall know if ,i see them1 and love them2 not till then4 ,i may study the laws of atmospheric gradation for fourscore years and ten1 and ,i shall not be able to draw so much as a brick-kiln through its own smoke1 unless ,i look at it2 and that in an entirely humble and unscientific manner1 ready to see all that the smoke1 my master1 is ready to show me1 and expecting to see nothing more4 ,,xix4 ,so that all the knowledge a man has must be held cheap1 and neither trusted nor respected1 the moment he comes face to face with ,nature4 ,if it help him1 well2 if not1 but1 on the contrary1 thrust itself upon him in an impertinent and contradictory temper1 and venture to set itself in the slightest degree in opposition to1 or comparison with1 his sight1 let it be disgraced forthwith4 ,and the slave is less likely to take too much upon herself1 if she has not been bought for a high price4 ,all the knowledge an artist needs1 will1 in these days1 come to him almost without his seeking2 if he has far to look for it1 he may be sure he does not want it4 ,prout became ,prout1 without knowing a single rule of perspective to the end of his days2 and all the perspective in the ,encyclopdia will never produce us another ,prout4 ,,xx4 ,and observe1 also1 knowledge is not only very often unnecessary1 but it is often untrustworthy4 ,it is inaccurate1 and betrays us where the eye would have been true to us4 ,let us take the single instance of the knowledge of aerial perspective1 of which the moderns are so proud1 and see how it betrays us in various ways4 ,first by the conceit of it1 which often prevents our enjoying work in which higher and better things were thought of than effects of mist4 ,the other day ,i showed a line impression of ,albert ,durer's ,st4 ,hubert to a modern engraver1 who had never seen it nor any other of ,albert ,durer's works4 ,he looked at it for a minute contemptuously1 then turned away3 ,ah1 ,i see that man did not know much about aerial perspective6 ,all the glorious work and thought of the mighty master1 all the redundant landscape1 the living vegetation1 the magnificent truth of line1 were dead letters to him1 because he happened to have been taught one particular piece of knowledge which ,durer despised4 ,,xxi4 ,but not only in the conceit of it1 but in the inaccuracy of it1 this science betrays us4 ,aerial perspective1 as given by the modern artist1 is1 in nine cases out of ten1 a gross and ridiculous exaggeration1 as is demonstrable in a moment4 ,the effect of air in altering the hue and depth of color is of course great in the exact proportion of the volume of air between the observer and the object4 ,it is not violent within the first few yards1 and then diminished gradually1 but it is equal for each foot of interposing air4 ,now in a clear day1 and clear climate1 such as that generally presupposed in a work of fine color1 objects are completely visible at a distance of ten miles2 visible in light and shade1 with gradations between the two4 ,take1 then1 the faintest possible hue of shadow1 or of any color1 and the most violent and positive possible1 and set them side by side4 ,the interval between them is greater than the real difference 7for objects may often be seen clearly much farther than ten miles1 ,i have seen ,mont ,blanc at #abj7 caused by the ten miles of intervening air between any given hue of the nearest1 and most distant1 objects2 but let us assume it1 in courtesy to the masters of aerial perspective1 to be the real difference4 ,then roughly estimating a mile at less than it really is1 also in courtesy to them1 or at #ejjj feet1 we have this difference between tints produced by #ej1jjj feet of air4 ,then1 ten feet of air will produce the #ejjjth part of this difference4 ,let the reader take the two extreme tints1 and carefully gradate the one into the other4 ,let him divide this gradated shadow or color into #ejjj successive parts2 and the difference in depth between one of these parts and the next is the exact amount of aerial perspective between one object1 and another1 ten feet behind it1 on a clear day4 ,,xxii4 ,now1 in ,millais' ,huguenot1 the figures were standing about three feet from the wall behind them2 and the wise world of critics1 which could find no other fault with the picture1 professed to have its eyes hurt by the want of an aerial perspective1 which1 had it been accurately given 7as1 indeed1 ,i believe it was71 would have amounted to the #aj_/c-ejjjth1 or less than the #ae1jjjth part of the depth of any given color4 ,it would be interesting to see a picture painted by the critics1 upon this scientific principle4 ,the aerial perspective usually represented is entirely conventional and ridiculous2 a mere struggle on the part of the pretendedly well-informed1 but really ignorant1 artist1 to express distances by mist which he cannot by drawing4 ,it is curious that the critical world is just as much offended by the true presence of aerial perspective1 over distances of fifty miles1 and with definite purpose of representing mist1 in the works of ,turner1 as by the true absence of aerial perspective1 over distances of three feet1 and in clear weather1 in those of ,millais4 ,,xxiii4 ,well but1 still answers the reader1 this kind of error may here and there be occasioned by too much respect for undigested knowledge2 but1 on the whole1 the gain is greater than the loss1 and the fact is1 that a picture of the ,renaissance period1 or by a modern master1 does indeed represent nature more faithfully than one wrought in the ignorance of old times4 ,no1 not one whit2 for the most part less faithfully4 ,indeed1 the outside of nature is more truly drawn2 the material commonplace1 which can be systematized1 catalogued1 and taught to all pains-taking mankind1--forms of ribs and scapul1#ab of eyebrows and lips1 and curls of hair4 ,whatever can be measured and handled1 dissected and demonstrated1--in a word1 whatever is of the body only1--that the schools of knowledge do resolutely and courageously possess themselves of1 and portray4 ,but whatever is immeasurable1 intangible1 indivisible1 and of the spirit1 that the schools of knowledge do as certainly lose1 and blot out of their sight1 that is to say1 all that is worth art's possessing or recording at all2 for whatever can be arrested1 measured1 and systematized1 we can contemplate as much as we will in nature herself4 ,but what we want art to do for us is to stay what is fleeting1 and to enlighten what is incomprehensible1 to incorporate the things that have no measure1 and immortalize the things that have no duration4 ,the dimly seen1 momentary glance1 the flitting shadow of faint emotion1 the imperfect lines of fading thought1 and all that by and through such things as these is recorded on the features of man1 and all that in man's person and actions1 and in the great natural world1 is infinite and wonderful2 having in it that spirit and power which man may witness1 but not weigh2 conceive1 but not comprehend2 love1 but not limit2 and imagine1 but not define2--this1 the beginning and the end of the aim of all noble art1 we have1 in the ancient art1 by perception2 and we have not1 in the newer art1 by knowledge4 ,giotto gives it us1 ,orcagna gives it us4 ,angelico1 ,memmi1 ,pisano1 it matters not who1--all simple and unlearned men1 in their measure and manner1--give it us2 and the learned men that followed them give it us not1 and we1 in our supreme learning1 own ourselves at this day farther from it than ever4 ,,xxiv4 ,nay1 but it is still answered1 this is because we have not yet brought our knowledge into right use1 but have been seeking to accumulate it1 rather than to apply it wisely to the ends of art4 ,let us now do this1 and we may achieve all that was done by that elder ignorant art1 and infinitely more4 ,no1 not so2 for as soon as we try to put our knowledge to good use1 we shall find that we have much more than we can use1 and that what more we have is an encumbrance4 ,all our errors in this respect arise from a gross misconception as to the true nature of knowledge itself4 ,we talk of learned and ignorant men1 as if there were a certain quantity of knowledge1 which to possess was to be learned1 and which not to possess was to be ignorant2 instead of considering that knowledge is infinite1 and that the man most learned in human estimation is just as far from knowing anything as he ought to know it1 as the unlettered peasant4 ,men are merely on a lower or higher stage of an eminence1 whose summit is ,god's throne1 infinitely above all2 and there is just as much reason for the wisest as for the simplest man being discontented with his position1 as respects the real quantity of knowledge he possesses4 ,and1 for both of them1 the only true reasons for contentment with the sum of knowledge they possess are these3 that it is the kind of knowledge they need for their duty and happiness in life2 that all they have is tested and certain1 so far as it is in their power2 that all they have is well in order1 and within reach when they need it2 that it has not cost too much time in the getting2 that none of it1 once got1 has been lost2 and that there is not too much to be easily taken care of4 ,,xxv4 ,consider these requirements a little1 and the evils that result in our education and polity from neglecting them4 ,knowledge is mental food1 and is exactly to the spirit what food is to the body 7except that the spirit needs several sorts of food1 of which knowledge is only one71 and it is liable to the same kind of misuses4 ,it may be mixed and disguised by art1 till it becomes unwholesome2 it may be refined1 sweetened1 and made palatable1 until it has lost all its power of nourishment2 and1 even of its best kind1 it may be eaten to surfeiting1 and minister to disease and death4 ,,xxvi4 ,therefore1 with respect to knowledge1 we are to reason and act exactly as with respect to food4 ,we no more live to know1 than we live to eat4 ,we live to contemplate1 enjoy1 act1 adore2 and we may know all that is to be known in this world1 and what ,satan knows in the other1 without being able to do any of these4 ,we are to ask1 therefore1 first1 is the knowledge we would have fit food for us1 good and simple1 not artificial and decorated8 and secondly1 how much of it will enable us best for our work2 and will leave our hearts light1 and our eyes clear8 ,for no more than that is to be eaten without the old ,eve-sin4 ,,xxvii4 ,observe1 also1 the difference between tasting knowledge1 and hoarding it4 ,in this respect it is also like food2 since1 in some measure1 the knowledge of all men is laid up in granaries1 for future use2 much of it is at any given moment dormant1 not fed upon or enjoyed1 but in store4 ,and by all it is to be remembered1 that knowledge in this form may be kept without air till it rots1 or in such unthreshed disorder that it is of no use2 and that1 however good or orderly1 it is still only in being tasted that it becomes of use2 and that men may easily starve in their own granaries1 men of science1 perhaps1 most of all1 for they are likely to seek accumulation of their store1 rather than nourishment from it4 ,yet let it not be thought that ,i would undervalue them4 ,the good and great among them are like ,joseph1 to whom all nations sought to buy corn2 or like the sower going forth to sow beside all waters1 sending forth thither the feet of the ox and the ass3 only let us remember that this is not all men's work4 ,we are not intended to be all keepers of granaries1 nor all to be measured by the filling of a storehouse2 but many1 nay1 most of us1 are to receive day by day our daily bread1 and shall be as well nourished and as fit for our labor1 and often1 also1 fit for nobler and more divine labor1 in feeding from the barrel of meal that does not waste1 and from the cruse of oil that does not fail1 than if our barns were filled with plenty1 and our presses bursting out with new wine4 ,,xxviii4 ,it is for each man to find his own measure in this matter2 in great part1 also1 for others to find it for him1 while he is yet a youth4 ,and the desperate evil of the whole ,renaissance system is1 that all idea of measure is therein forgotten1 that knowledge is thought the one and the only good1 and it is never inquired whether men are vivified by it or paralyzed4 ,let us leave figures4 ,the reader may not believe the analogy ,i have been pressing so far2 but let him consider the subject in itself1 let him examine the effect of knowledge in his own heart1 and see whether the trees of knowledge and of life are one now1 any more than in ,paradise4 ,he must feel that the real animating power of knowledge is only in the moment of its being first received1 when it fills us with wonder and joy2 a joy for which1 observe1 the previous ignorance is just as necessary as the present knowledge4 ,that man is always happy who is in the presence of something which he cannot know to the full1 which he is always going on to know4 ,this is the necessary condition of a finite creature with divinely rooted and divinely directed intelligence2 this1 therefore1 its happy state1--but observe1 a state1 not of triumph or joy in what it knows1 but of joy rather in the continual discovery of new ignorance1 continual self-abasement1 continual astonishment4 ,once thoroughly our own1 the knowledge ceases to give us pleasure4 ,it may be practically useful to us1 it may be good for others1 or good for usury to obtain more2 but1 in itself1 once let it be thoroughly familiar1 and it is dead4 ,the wonder is gone from it1 and all the fine color which it had when first we drew it up out of the infinite sea4 ,and what does it matter how much or how little of it we have laid aside1 when our only enjoyment is still in the casting of that deep sea line8 ,what does it matter8 ,nay1 in one respect1 it matters much1 and not to our advantage4 ,for one effect of knowledge is to deaden the force of the imagination and the original energy of the whole man3 under the weight of his knowledge he cannot move so lightly as in the days of his simplicity4 ,the pack-horse is furnished for the journey1 the war-horse is armed for war2 but the freedom of the field and the lightness of the limb are lost for both4 ,knowledge is1 at best1 the pilgrim's burden or the soldier's panoply1 often a weariness to them both3 and the ,renaissance knowledge is like the ,renaissance armor of plate1 binding and cramping the human form2 while all good knowledge is like the crusader's chain mail1 which throws itself into folds with the body1 yet it is rarely so forged as that the clasps and rivets do not gall us4 ,all men feel this1 though they do not think of it1 nor reason out its consequences4 ,they look back to the days of childhood as of greatest happiness1 because those were the days of greatest wonder1 greatest simplicity1 and most vigorous imagination4 ,and the whole difference between a man of genius and other men1 it has been said a thousand times1 and most truly1 is that the first remains in great part a child1 seeing with the large eyes of children1 in perpetual wonder1 not conscious of much knowledge1--conscious1 rather1 of infinite ignorance1 and yet infinite power2 a fountain of eternal admiration1 delight1 and creative force within him meeting the ocean of visible and governable things around him4 ,that is what we have to make men1 so far as we may4 ,all are to be men of genius in their degree1--rivulets or rivers1 it does not matter1 so that the souls be clear and pure2 not dead walls encompassing dead heaps of things known and numbered1 but running waters in the sweet wilderness of things unnumbered and unknown1 conscious only of the living banks1 on which they partly refresh and partly reflect the flowers1 and so pass on4 ,,xxix4 ,let each man answer for himself how far his knowledge has made him this1 or how far it is loaded upon him as the pyramid is upon the tomb4 ,let him consider1 also1 how much of it has cost him labor and time that might have been spent in healthy1 happy action1 beneficial to all mankind2 how many living souls may have been left uncomforted and unhelped by him1 while his own eyes were failing by the midnight lamp2 how many warm sympathies have died within him as he measured lines or counted letters2 how many draughts of ocean air1 and steps on mountain-turf1 and openings of the highest heaven he has lost for his knowledge2 how much of that knowledge1 so dearly bought1 is now forgotten or despised1 leaving only the capacity of wonder less within him1 and1 as it happens in a thousand instances1 perhaps even also the capacity of devotion4 ,and let him1--if1 after thus dealing with his own heart1 he can say that his knowledge has indeed been fruitful to him1--yet consider how many there are who have been forced by the inevitable laws of modern education into toil utterly repugnant to their natures1 and that in the extreme1 until the whole strength of the young soul was sapped away2 and then pronounce with fearfulness how far1 and in how many senses1 it may indeed be true that the wisdom of this world is foolishness with ,god4 ,,xxx4 ,now all this possibility of evil1 observe1 attaches to knowledge pursued for the noblest ends1 if it be pursued imprudently4 ,i have assumed1 in speaking of its effect both on men generally and on the artist especially1 that it was sought in the true love of it1 and with all honesty and directness of purpose4 ,but this is granting far too much in its favor4 ,of knowledge in general1 and without qualification1 it is said by the ,apostle that it puffeth up2 and the father of all modern science1 writing directly in its praise1 yet asserts this danger even in more absolute terms1 calling it a venomousness in the very nature of knowledge itself4 ,,xxxi4 ,there is1 indeed1 much difference in this respect between the tendencies of different branches of knowledge2 it being a sure rule that exactly in proportion as they are inferior1 nugatory1 or limited in scope1 their power of feeding pride is greater4 ,thus philology1 logic1 rhetoric1 and the other sciences of the schools1 being for the most part ridiculous and trifling1 have so pestilent an effect upon those who are devoted to them1 that their students cannot conceive of any higher sciences than these1 but fancy that all education ends in the knowledge of words3 but the true and great sciences1 more especially natural history1 make men gentle and modest in proportion to the largeness of their apprehension1 and just perception of the infiniteness of the things they can never know4 ,and this1 it seems to me1 is the principal lesson we are intended to be caught by the book of ,job2 for there ,god has thrown open to us the heart of a man most just and holy1 and apparently perfect in all things possible to human nature except humility4 ,for this he is tried3 and we are shown that no suffering1 no self-examination1 however honest1 however stern1 no searching out of the heart by its own bitterness1 is enough to convince man of his nothingness before ,god2 but that the sight of ,god's creation will do it4 ,for1 when the ,deity himself has willed to end the temptation1 and to accomplish in ,job that for which it was sent1 ,he does not vouchsafe to reason with him1 still less does ,he overwhelm him with terror1 or confound him by laying open before his eyes the book of his iniquities4 ,he opens before him only the arch of the dayspring1 and the fountains of the deep2 and amidst the covert of the reeds1 and on the heaving waves1 ,he bids him watch the kings of the children of pride1--,behold now ,behemoth1 which ,i made with thee3 ,and the work is done4 ,,xxxii4 ,thus1 if1 ,i repeat1 there is any one lesson in the whole book which stands forth more definitely than another1 it is this of the holy and humbling influence of natural science on the human heart4 ,and yet1 even here1 it is not the science1 but the perception1 to which the good is owing2 and the natural sciences may become as harmful as any others1 when they lose themselves in classification and catalogue-making4 ,still1 the principal danger is with the sciences of words and methods2 and it was exactly into those sciences that the whole energy of men during the ,renaissance period was thrown4 ,they discovered suddenly that the world for ten centuries had been living in an ungrammatical manner1 and they made it forthwith the end of human existence to be grammatical4 ,and it mattered thenceforth nothing what was said1 or what was done1 so only that it was said with scholarship1 and done with system4 ,falsehood in a ,ciceronian dialect had no opposers2 truth in patois no listeners4 ,a ,roman phrase was thought worth any number of ,gothic facts4 ,the sciences ceased at once to be anything more than different kinds of grammars1--grammar of language1 grammar of logic1 grammar of ethics1 grammar of art2 and the tongue1 wit1 and invention of the human race were supposed to have found their utmost and most divine mission in syntax and syllogism1 perspective and five orders4 ,of such knowledge as this1 nothing but pride could come2 and1 therefore1 ,i have called the first mental characteristic of the ,renaissance schools1 the pride of science4 ,if they had reached any science worth the name1 they might have loved it2 but of the paltry knowledge they possessed1 they could only be proud4 ,there was not anything in it capable of being loved4 ,anatomy1 indeed1 then first made a subject of accurate study1 is a true science1 but not so attractive as to enlist the affections strongly on its side3 and therefore1 like its meaner sisters1 it became merely a ground for pride2 and the one main purpose of the ,renaissance artists1 in all their work1 was to show how much they knew4 ,,xxxiii4 ,there were1 of course1 noble exceptions2 but chiefly belonging to the earliest periods of the ,renaissance1 when its teaching had not yet produced its full effect4 ,raphael1 ,leonardo1 and ,michael ,angelo were all trained in the old school2 they all had masters who knew the true ends of art1 and had reached them2 masters nearly as great as they were themselves1 but imbued with the old religious and earnest spirit1 which their disciples receiving from them1 and drinking at the same time deeply from all the fountains of knowledge opened in their day1 became the world's wonders4 ,then the dull wondering world believed that their greatness rose out of their new knowledge1 instead of out of that ancient religious root1 in which to abide was life1 from which to be severed was annihilation4 ,and from that day to this1 they have tried to produce ,michael ,angelos and ,leonardos by teaching the barren sciences1 and still have mourned and marvelled that no more ,michael ,angelos came2 not perceiving that those great ,fathers were only able to receive such nourishment because they were rooted on the rock of all ages1 and that our scientific teaching1 nowadays1 is nothing more nor less than the assiduous watering of trees whose stems are cut through4 ,nay1 ,i have even granted too much in saying that those great men were able to receive pure nourishment from the sciences2 for my own conviction is1 and ,i know it to be shared by most of those who love ,raphael truly1--that he painted best when he knew least4 ,michael ,angelo was betrayed1 again and again1 into such vain and offensive exhibition of his anatomical knowledge as1 to this day1 renders his higher powers indiscernible by the greater part of men2 and ,leonardo fretted his life away in engineering1 so that there is hardly a picture left to bear his name4 ,but1 with respect to all who followed1 there can be no question that the science they possessed was utterly harmful2 serving merely to draw away their hearts at once from the purposes of art and the power of nature1 and to make1 out of the canvas and marble1 nothing more than materials for the exhibition of petty dexterity and useless knowledge4 ,,xxxiv4 ,it is sometimes amusing to watch the nave and childish way in which this vanity is shown4 ,for instance1 when perspective was first invented1 the world thought it a mighty discovery1 and the greatest men it had in it were as proud of knowing that retiring lines converge1 as if all the wisdom of ,solomon had been compressed into a vanishing point4 ,and1 accordingly1 it became nearly impossible for any one to paint a ,nativity1 but he must turn the stable and manger into a ,corinthian arcade1 in order to show his knowledge of perspective2 and half the best architecture of the time1 instead of being adorned with historical sculpture1 as of old1 was set forth with bas-relief of minor corridors and galleries1 thrown into perspective4 ,now that perspective can be taught to any schoolboy in a week1 we can smile at this vanity4 ,but the fact is1 that all pride in knowledge is precisely as ridiculous1 whatever its kind1 or whatever its degree4 ,there is1 indeed1 nothing of which man has any right to be proud2 but the very last thing of which1 with any show of reason1 he can make his boast is his knowledge1 except only that infinitely small portion of it which he has discovered for himself4 ,for what is there to be more proud of in receiving a piece of knowledge from another person1 than in receiving a piece of money8 ,beggars should not be proud1 whatever kind of alms they receive4 ,knowledge is like current coin4 ,a man may have some right to be proud of possessing it1 if he has worked for the gold of it1 and assayed it1 and stamped it1 so that it may be received of all men as true2 or earned it fairly1 being already assayed3 but if he has done none of these things1 but only had it thrown in his face by a passer-by1 what cause has he to be proud8 ,and though1 in this mendicant fashion1 he had heaped together the wealth of ,croesus1 would pride any more1 for this1 become him1 as1 in some sort1 it becomes the man who has labored for his fortune1 however small8 ,so1 if a man tells me the sun is larger than the earth1 have ,i any cause for pride in knowing it8 or1 if any multitude of men tell me any number of things1 heaping all their wealth of knowledge upon me1 have ,i any reason to be proud under the heap8 ,and is not nearly all the knowledge of which we boast in these days cast upon us in this dishonorable way2 worked for by other men1 proved by them1 and then forced upon us1 even against our wills1 and beaten into us in our youth1 before we have the wit even to know if it be good or not8 7,mark the distinction between knowledge and thought47 ,truly a noble possession to be proud of6 ,be assured1 there is no part of the furniture of a man's mind which he has a right to exult in1 but that which he has hewn and fashioned for himself4 ,he who has built himself a hut on a desert heath1 and carved his bed1 and table1 and chair out of the nearest forest1 may have some right to take pride in the appliances of his narrow chamber1 as assuredly he will have joy in them4 ,but the man who has had a palace built1 and adorned1 and furnished for him1 may1 indeed1 have many advantages above the other1 but he has no reason to be proud of his upholsterer's skill2 and it is ten to one if he has half the joy in his couches of ivory that the other will have in his pallet of pine4 ,,xxxv4 ,and observe how we feel this1 in the kind of respect we pay to such knowledge as we are indeed capable of estimating the value of4 ,when it is our own1 and new to us1 we cannot judge of it2 but let it be another's also1 and long familiar to us1 and see what value we set on it4 ,consider how we regard a schoolboy1 fresh from his term's labor4 ,if he begin to display his newly acquired small knowledge to us1 and plume himself thereupon1 how soon do we silence him with contempt6 ,but it is not so if the schoolboy begins to feel or see anything4 ,in the strivings of his soul within him he is our equal2 in his power of sight and thought he stands separate from us1 and may be a greater than we4 ,we are ready to hear him forthwith4 ,you saw that8 you felt that8 ,no matter for your being a child2 let us hear4 ,,xxxvi4 ,consider that every generation of men stands in this relation to its successors4 ,it is as the schoolboy3 the knowledge of which it is proudest will be as the alphabet to those who follow4 ,it had better make no noise about its knowledge2 a time will come when its utmost1 in that kind1 will be food for scorn4 ,poor fools6 was that all they knew8 and behold how proud they were6 ,but what we see and feel will never be mocked at4 ,all men will be thankful to us for telling them that4 ,indeed6 they will say1 they felt that in their day8 saw that8 ,would ,god we may be like them1 before we go to the home where sight and thought are not6 ,this unhappy and childish pride in knowledge1 then1 was the first constituent element of the ,renaissance mind1 and it was enough1 of itself1 to have cast it into swift decline3 but it was aided by another form of pride1 which was above called the ,pride of ,state2 and which we have next to examine4 ,,xxxvii4 ,,ii4 ,,pride ,,of ,,state4 ,it was noticed in the second volume of ,modern ,painters1 p4 #abb1 that the principle which had most power in retarding the modern school of portraiture was its constant expression of individual vanity and pride4 ,and the reader cannot fail to have observed that one of the readiest and commonest ways in which the painter ministers to this vanity1 is by introducing the pedestal or shaft of a column1 or some fragment1 however simple1 of ,renaissance architecture1 in the background of the portrait4 ,and this is not merely because such architecture is bolder or grander than1 in general1 that of the apartments of a private house4 ,no other architecture would produce the same effect in the same degree4 ,the richest ,gothic1 the most massive ,norman1 would not produce the same sense of exaltation as the simple and meagre lines of the ,renaissance4 ,,xxxviii4 ,and if we think over this matter a little1 we shall soon feel that in those meagre lines there is indeed an expression of aristocracy in its worst characters2 coldness1 perfectness of training1 incapability of emotion1 want of sympathy with the weakness of lower men1 blank1 hopeless1 haughty self-sufficiency4 ,all these characters are written in the ,renaissance architecture as plainly as if they were graven on it in words4 ,for1 observe1 all other architectures have something in them that common men can enjoy2 some concession to the simplicities of humanity1 some daily bread for the hunger of the multitude4 ,quaint fancy1 rich ornament1 bright color1 something that shows a sympathy with men of ordinary minds and hearts2 and this wrought out1 at least in the ,gothic1 with a rudeness showing that the workman did not mind exposing his own ignorance if he could please others4 ,but the ,renaissance is exactly the contrary of all this4 ,it is rigid1 cold1 inhuman2 incapable of glowing1 of stooping1 of conceding for an instant4 ,whatever excellence it has is refined1 high-trained1 and deeply erudite2 a kind which the architect well knows no common mind can taste4 ,he proclaims it to us aloud4 ,you cannot feel my work unless you study ,vitruvius4 ,i will give you no gay color1 no pleasant sculpture1 nothing to make you happy2 for ,i am a learned man4 ,all the pleasure you can have in anything ,i do is in its proud breeding1 its rigid formalism1 its perfect finish1 its cold tranquillity4 ,i do not work for the vulgar1 only for the men of the academy and the court4 ,,xxxix4 ,and the instinct of the world felt this in a moment4 ,in the new precision and accurate law of the classical forms1 they perceived something peculiarly adapted to the setting forth of state in an appalling manner3 ,princes delighted in it1 and courtiers4 ,the ,gothic was good for ,god's worship1 but this was good for man's worship4 ,the ,gothic had fellowship with all hearts1 and was universal1 like nature3 it could frame a temple for the prayer of nations1 or shrink into the poor man's winding stair4 ,but here was an architecture that would not shrink1 that had in it no submission1 no mercy4 ,the proud princes and lords rejoiced in it4 ,it was full of insult to the poor in its every line4 ,it would not be built of the materials at the poor man's hand2 it would not roof itself with thatch or shingle1 and black oak beams2 it would not wall itself with rough stone or brick2 it would not pierce itself with small windows where they were needed2 it would not niche itself1 wherever there was room for it1 in the street corners4 ,it would be of hewn stone2 it would have its windows and its doors1 and its stairs and its pillars1 in lordly order1 and of stately size2 it would have its wings and its corridors1 and its halls and its gardens1 as if all the earth were its own4 ,and the rugged cottages of the mountaineers1 and the fantastic streets of the laboring burgher were to be thrust out of its way1 as of a lower species4 ,,xl4 ,it is to be noted also1 that it ministered as much to luxury as to pride4 ,not to luxury of the eye1 that is a holy luxury2 ,nature ministers to that in her painted meadows1 and sculptured forests1 and gilded heavens2 the ,gothic builder ministered to that in his twisted traceries1 and deep-wrought foliage1 and burning casements4 ,the dead ,renaissance drew back into its earthliness1 out of all that was warm and heavenly2 back into its pride1 out of all that was simple and kind2 back into its stateliness1 out of all that was impulsive1 reverent1 and gay4 ,but it understood the luxury of the body2 the terraced and scented and grottoed garden1 with its trickling fountains and slumbrous shades2 the spacious hall and lengthened corridor for the summer heat2 the well-closed windows1 and perfect fittings and furniture1 for defence against the cold2 and the soft picture1 and frescoed wall and roof1 covered with the last lasciviousness of ,paganism2--this is understood and possessed to the full1 and still possesses4 ,this is the kind of domestic architecture on which we pride ourselves1 even to this day1 as an infinite and honorable advance from the rough habits of our ancestors2 from the time when the king's floor was strewn with rushes1 and the tapestries swayed before the searching wind in the baron's hall4 ,,xli4 ,let us hear two stories of those rougher times4 ,at the debate of ,king ,edwin with his courtiers and priests1 whether he ought to receive the ,gospel preached to him by ,paulinus1 one of his nobles spoke as follows3 ,the present life1 ,o king6 weighed with the time that is unknown1 seems to me like this4 ,when you are sitting at a feast with your earls and thanes in winter time1 and the fire is lighted1 and the hall is warmed1 and it rains and snows1 and the storm is loud without1 there comes a sparrow1 and flies through the house4 ,it comes in at one door and goes out at the other4 ,while it is within1 it is not touched by the winter's storm2 but it is but for the twinkling of an eye1 for from winter it comes and to winter it returns4 ,so also this life of man endureth for a little space2 what goes before or what follows after1 we know not4 ,wherefore1 if this new lore bring anything more certain1 it is fit that we should follow it4#ac ,that could not have happened in a ,renaissance building4 ,the bird could not have dashed in from the cold into the heat1 and from the heat back again into the storm4 ,it would have had to come up a flight of marble stairs1 and through seven or eight antechambers2 and so1 if it had ever made its way into the presence chamber1 out again through loggias and corridors innumerable4 ,and the truth which the bird brought with it1 fresh from heaven1 has1 in like manner1 to make its way to the ,renaissance mind through many antechambers1 hardly1 and as a despised thing1 if at all4 ,,xlii4 ,hear another story of those early times4 ,the king of ,jerusalem1 ,godfrey of ,bouillon1 at the siege of ,asshur1 or ,arsur1 gave audience to some emirs from ,samaria and ,naplous4 ,they found him seated on the ground on a sack of straw4 ,they expressing surprise1 ,godfrey answered them3 ,may not the earth1 out of which we came1 and which is to be our dwelling after death1 serve us for a seat during life8 ,it is long since such a throne has been set in the reception chambers of ,christendom1 or such an answer heard from the lips of a king4 ,thus the ,renaissance spirit became base both in its abstinence and its indulgence4 ,base in its abstinence2 curtailing the bright and playful wealth of form and thought1 which filled the architecture of the earlier ages with sources of delight for their hardy spirit1 pure1 simple1 and yet rich as the fretwork of flowers and moss1 watered by some strong and stainless mountain stream3 and base in its indulgence2 as it granted to the body what it withdrew from the heart1 and exhausted1 in smoothing the pavement for the painless feet1 and softening the pillow for the sluggish brain1 the powers of art which once had hewn rough ladders into the clouds of heaven1 and set up the stones by which they rested for houses of ,god4 ,,xliii4 ,and just in proportion as this courtly sensuality lowered the real nobleness of the men whom birth or fortune raised above their fellows1 rose their estimate of their own dignity1 together with the insolence and unkindness of its expression1 and the grossness of the flattery with which it was fed4 ,pride is indeed the first and the last among the sins of men1 and there is no age of the world in which it has not been unveiled in the power and prosperity of the wicked4 ,but there was never in any form of slavery1 or of feudal supremacy1 a forgetfulness so total of the common majesty of the human soul1 and of the brotherly kindness due from man to man1 as in the aristocratic follies in the ,renaissance4 ,i have not space to follow out this most interesting and extensive subject2 but here is a single and very curious example of the kind of flattery with which architectural teaching was mingled when addressed to the men of rank of the day4 ,,xliv4 ,in ,st4 ,mark's library there is a very curious ,latin manuscript of the twenty-five books of ,averulinus1 a ,florentine architect1 upon the principles of his art4 ,the book was written in or about #adfj1 and translated into ,latin1 and richly illuminated for ,corvinus1 king of ,hungary1 about #adhc4 ,i extract from the third book the following passage on the nature of stones4 ,as there are three genera of men1--that is to say1 nobles1 men of the middle classes1 and rustics1--so it appears that there are of stones4 ,for the marbles and common stones of which we have spoken above1 set forth the rustics4 ,the porphyries and alabasters1 and the other harder stones of mingled quality1 represent the middle classes1 if we are to deal in comparisons3 and by means of these the ancients adorned their temples with incrustations and ornaments in a magnificent manner4 ,and after these come the chalcedonies and sardonyxes1 c41 which are so transparent that there can be seen no spot in them4#ad ,thus men endowed with nobility lead a life in which no spot can be found4 ,canute or ,coeur de ,lion 7,i name not ,godfrey or ,st4 ,louis7 would have dashed their sceptres against the lips of a man who should have dared to utter to them flattery such as this4 ,but in the fifteenth century it was rendered and accepted as a matter of course1 and the tempers which delighted in it necessarily took pleasure also in every vulgar or false means1 of taking worldly superiority4 ,and among such false means largeness of scale in the dwelling-house was of course one of the easiest and most direct4 ,all persons1 however senseless or dull1 could appreciate size3 it required some exertion of intelligence to enter into the spirit of the quaint carving of the ,gothic times1 but none to perceive that one heap of stones was higher than another4#ae ,and therefore1 while in the execution and manner of work the ,renaissance builders zealously vindicated for themselves the attribute of cold and superior learning1 they appealed for such approbation as they needed from the multitude1 to the lowest possible standard of taste2 and while the older workman lavished his labor on the minute niche and narrow casement1 on the doorways no higher than the head1 and the contracted angles of the turreted chamber1 the ,renaissance builder spared such cost and toil in his detail1 that he might spend it in bringing larger stones from a distance2 and restricted himself to rustication and five orders1 that he might load the ground with colossal piers1 and raise an ambitious barrenness of architecture1 as inanimate as it was gigantic1 above the feasts and follies of the powerful or the rich4 ,the ,titanic insanity extended itself also into ecclesiastical design3 the principal church in ,italy was built with little idea of any other admirableness than that which was to result from its being huge2 and the religious impressions of those who enter it are to this day supposed to be dependent1 in a great degree1 on their discovering that they cannot span the thumbs of the statues which sustain the vessels for holy water4 ,,xlv4 ,it is easy to understand how an architecture which thus appealed not less to the lowest instincts of dulness than to the subtlest pride of learning1 rapidly found acceptance with a large body of mankind2 and how the spacious pomp of the new manner of design came to be eagerly adopted by the luxurious aristocracies1 not only of ,venice1 but of the other countries of ,christendom1 now gradually gathering themselves into that insolent and festering isolation1 against which the cry of the poor sounded hourly in more ominous unison1 bursting at last into thunder 7mark where1--first among the planted walks and plashing fountains of the palace wherein the ,renaissance luxury attained its utmost height in ,europe1 ,versailles72 that cry1 mingling so much piteousness with its wrath and indignation1 ,our soul is filled with the scornful reproof of the wealthy1 and with the despitefulness of the proud4 ,,xlvi4 ,but of all the evidence bearing upon this subject presented by the various arts of the fifteenth century1 none is so interesting or so conclusive as that deduced from its tombs4 ,for1 exactly in proportion as the pride of life became more insolent1 the fear of death became more servile2 and the difference in the manner in which the men of early and later days adorned the sepulchre1 confesses a still greater difference in their manner of regarding death4 ,to those he came as the comforter and the friend1 rest in his right hand1 hope in his left2 to these as the humiliator1 the spoiler1 and the avenger4 ,and1 therefore1 we find the early tombs at once simple and lovely in adornment1 severe and solemn in their expression2 confessing the power1 and accepting the peace1 of death1 openly and joyfully2 and in all their symbols marking that the hope of resurrection lay only in ,christ's righteousness2 signed always with this simple utterance of the dead1 ,i will lay me down in peace1 and take my rest2 for it is thou1 ,lord1 only that makest me dwell in safety4 ,but the tombs of the later ages are a ghastly struggle of mean pride and miserable terror3 the one mustering the statues of the ,virtues about the tomb1 disguising the sarcophagus with delicate sculpture1 polishing the false periods of the elaborate epitaph1 and filling with strained animation the features of the portrait statue2 and the other summoning underneath1 out of the niche or from behind the curtain1 the frowning skull1 or scythed skeleton1 or some other more terrible image of the enemy in whose defiance the whiteness of the sepulchre had been set to shine above the whiteness of the ashes4 ,,xlvii4 ,this change in the feeling with which sepulchral monuments were designed1 from the eleventh to the eighteenth centuries1 has been common to the whole of ,europe4 ,but1 as ,venice is in other respects the centre of the ,renaissance system1 so also she exhibits this change in the manner of the sepulchral monument under circumstances peculiarly calculated to teach us its true character4 ,for the severe guard which1 in earlier times1 she put upon every tendency to personal pomp and ambition1 renders the tombs of her ancient monarchs as remarkable for modesty and simplicity as for their religious feeling2 so that1 in this respect1 they are separated by a considerable interval from the more costly monuments erected at the same periods to the kings or nobles of other ,european states4 ,in later times1 on the other hand1 as the piety of the ,venetians diminished1 their pride overleaped all limits1 and the tombs which in recent epochs1 were erected for men who had lived only to impoverish or disgrace the state1 were as much more magnificent than those contemporaneously erected for the nobles of ,europe1 as the monuments for the great ,doges had been humbler4 ,when1 in addition to this1 we reflect that the art of sculpture1 considered as expressive of emotion1 was at a low ebb in ,venice in the twelfth century1 and that in the seventeenth she took the lead in ,italy in luxurious work1 we shall at once see the chain of examples through which the change of feeling is expressed1 must present more remarkable extremes here than it can in any other city2 extremes so startling that their impressiveness cannot be diminished1 while their intelligibility is greatly increased1 by the large number of intermediate types which have fortunately been preserved4 ,it would1 however1 too much weary the general reader if1 without illustrations1 ,i were to endeavor to lead him step by step through the aisles of ,st4 ,john and ,paul2 and ,i shall therefore confine myself to a slight notice of those features in sepulchral architecture generally which are especially illustrative of the matter at present in hand1 and point out the order in which1 if possible1 the traveller should visit the tombs in ,venice1 so as to be most deeply impressed with the true character of the lessons they convey4 ,,xlviii4 ,i have not such an acquaintance with the modes of entombment or memorial in the earliest ages of ,christianity as would justify me in making any general statement respecting them3 but it seems to me that the perfect type of a ,christian tomb was not developed until toward the thirteenth century1 sooner or later according to the civilization of each country2 that perfect type consisting in the raised and perfectly visible sarcophagus of stone1 bearing upon it a recumbent figure1 and the whole covered by a canopy4 ,before that type was entirely developed1 and in the more ordinary tombs contemporary with it1 we find the simple sarcophagus1 often with only a rough block of stone for its lid1 sometimes with a low-gabled lid like a cottage roof1 derived from ,egyptian forms1 and bearing1 either on the sides or the lid1 at least a sculpture of the cross1 and sometimes the name of the deceased1 and date of erection of the tomb4 ,in more elaborate examples rich figure-sculpture is gradually introduced2 and in the perfect period the sarcophagus1 even when it does not bear any recumbent figure1 has generally a rich sculpture on its sides representing an angel presenting the dead1 in person and dress as he lived1 to ,christ or to the ,madonna1 with lateral figures1 sometimes of saints1 sometimes--as in the tombs of the ,dukes of ,burgundy at ,dijon--of mourners2 but in ,venice almost always representing the ,annunciation1 the angel being placed at one angle of the sarcophagus1 and the ,madonna at the other4 ,the canopy1 in a very simple foursquare form1 or as an arch over a recess1 is added above the sarcophagus1 long before the life-size recumbent figure appears resting upon it4 ,by the time that the sculptors had acquired skill enough to give much expression to this figure1 the canopy attains an exquisite symmetry and richness2 and1 in the most elaborate examples1 is surmounted by a statue1 generally small1 representing the dead person in the full strength and pride of life1 while the recumbent figure shows him as he lay in death4 ,and1 at this point1 the perfect type of the ,gothic tomb is reached4 ,,xlix4 ,of the simple sarcophagus tomb there are many exquisite examples both at ,venice and ,verona2 the most interesting in ,venice are those which are set in the recesses of the rude brick front of the ,church of ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 ornamented only1 for the most part1 with two crosses set in circles1 and the legend with the name of the dead1 and an ,orate pro anima in another circle in the centre4 ,and in this we may note one great proof of superiority in ,italian over ,english tombs2 the latter being often enriched with quatrefoils1 small shafts1 and arches1 and other ordinary architectural decorations1 which destroy their seriousness and solemnity1 render them little more than ornamental1 and have no religious meaning whatever2 while the ,italian sarcophagi are kept massive1 smooth1 and gloomy1--heavy-lidded dungeons of stone1 like rock-tombs1--but bearing on their surface1 sculptured with tender and narrow lines1 the emblem of the cross1 not presumptuously nor proudly1 but dimly graven upon their granite1 like the hope which the human heart holds1 but hardly perceives in its heaviness4 ,l4 ,among the tombs in front of the ,church of ,st4 ,john and ,paul there is one which is peculiarly illustrative of the simplicity of these earlier ages4 ,it is on the left of the entrance1 a massy sarcophagus with low horns as of an altar1 placed in a rude recess of the outside wall1 shattered and worn1 and here and there entangled among wild grass and weeds4 ,yet it is the tomb of two ,doges1 ,jacopo and ,lorenzo ,tiepolo1 by one of whom nearly the whole ground was given for the erection of the noble church in front of which his unprotected tomb is wasting away4 ,the sarcophagus bears an inscription in the centre1 describing the acts of the ,doges1 of which the letters show that it was added a considerable period after the erection of the tomb3 the original legend is still left in other letters on its base1 to this effect1 ,lord ,james1 died #abea4 ,lord ,laurence1 died #abhh4 ,at the two corners of the sarcophagus are two angels bearing censers2 and on its lid two birds1 with crosses like crests upon their heads4 ,for the sake of the traveller in ,venice the reader will1 ,i think1 pardon me the momentary irrelevancy of telling the meaning of these symbols4 ,,li4 ,the foundation of the church of ,st4 ,john and ,paul was laid by the ,dominicans about #abcd1 under the immediate protection of the ,senate and the ,doge ,giacomo ,tiepolo1 accorded to them in consequence of a miraculous vision appearing to the ,doge2 of which the following account is given in popular tradition3 ,in the year #abbf1 the ,doge ,giacomo ,tiepolo dreamed a dream2 and in his dream he saw the little oratory of the ,dominicans1 and1 behold1 the ground all around it 7now occupied by the church7 was covered with roses of the color of vermilion1 and the air was filled with their fragrance4 ,and in the midst of the roses1 there were seen flying to and fro a crowd of white doves1 with golden crosses upon their heads4 ,and while the ,doge looked1 and wondered1 behold1 two angels descended from heaven with golden censers1 and passing through the oratory1 and forth among the flowers1 they filled the place with the smoke of their incense4 ,then the ,doge heard suddenly a clear and loud voice which proclaimed1 ',this is the place that ,i have chosen for my preachers2' and having heard it1 straightway he awoke and went to the ,senate1 and declared to them the vision4 ,then the ,senate decreed that forty paces of ground should be given to enlarge the monastery2 and the ,doge ,tiepolo himself made a still larger grant afterwards4 ,there is nothing miraculous in the occurrence of such a dream as this to the devout ,doge2 and the fact1 of which there is no doubt1 that the greater part of the land on which the church stands was given by him1 is partly a confirmation of the story4 ,but1 whether the sculptures on the tomb were records of the vision1 or the vision a monkish invention from the sculptures on the tomb1 the reader will not1 ,i believe1 look upon its doves and crosses1 or rudely carved angels1 any more with disdain2 knowing how1 in one way or another1 they were connected with a point of deep religious belief4 ,,lii4 ,towards the beginning of the fourteenth century1 in ,venice1 the recumbent figure begins to appear on the sarcophagus1 the first dated example being also one of the most beautiful2 the statue of the prophet ,simeon1 sculptured upon the tomb which was to receive his relics in the church dedicated to him under the name of ,san ,simeone ,grande4 ,so soon as the figure appears1 the sarcophagus becomes much more richly sculptured1 but always with definite religious purpose4 ,it is usually divided into two panels1 which are filled with small bas-reliefs of the acts or martyrdom of the patron saints of the deceased3 between them1 in the centre1 ,christ1 or the ,virgin and ,child1 are richly enthroned1 under a curtained canopy2 and the two figures representing the ,annunciation are almost always at the angles2 the promise of the ,birth of ,christ being taken as at once the ground and the type of the promise of eternal life to all men4 ,,liii4 ,these figures are always in ,venice most rudely chiselled2 the progress of figure sculpture being there comparatively tardy4 ,at ,verona1 where the great ,pisan school had strong influence1 the monumental sculpture is immeasurably finer2 and1 so early as about the year #acce1af the consummate form of the ,gothic tomb occurs in the monument of ,can ,grande della ,scala at ,verona4 ,it is set over the portal of the chapel anciently belonging to the family4 ,the sarcophagus is sculptured with shallow bas-reliefs1 representing 7which is rare in the tombs with which ,i am acquainted in ,italy1 unless they are those of saints7 the principal achievements of the warrior's life1 especially the siege of ,vicenza and battle of ,placenza2 these sculptures1 however1 form little more than a chased and roughened groundwork for the fully relieved statues representing the ,annunciation1 projecting boldly from the front of the sarcophagus4 ,above1 the ,lord of ,verona is laid in his long robe of civil dignity1 wearing the simple bonnet1 consisting merely of a fillet bound round the brow1 knotted and falling on the shoulder4 ,he is laid as asleep2 his arms crossed upon his body1 and his sword by his side4 ,above him1 a bold arched canopy is sustained by two projecting shafts1 and on the pinnacle of its roof is the statue of the knight on his war-horse2 his helmet1 dragon-winged and crested with the dog's head1 tossed back behind his shoulders1 and the broad and blazoned drapery floating back from his horse's breast1--so truly drawn by the old workman from the life1 that it seems to wave in the wind1 and the knight's spear to shake1 and his marble horse to be evermore quickening its pace1 and starting into heavier and hastier charge1 as the silver clouds float past behind it in the sky4 ,,liv4 ,now observe1 in this tomb1 as much concession is made to the pride of man as may ever consist with honor1 discretion1 or dignity4 ,i do not enter into any question respecting the character of ,can ,grande1 though there can be little doubt that he was one of the best among the nobles of his time2 but that is not to our purpose4 ,it is not the question whether his wars were just1 or his greatness honorably achieved2 but whether1 supposing them to have been so1 these facts are well and gracefully told upon his tomb4 ,and ,i believe there can be no hesitation in the admission of its perfect feeling and truth4 ,though beautiful1 the tomb is so little conspicuous or intrusive1 that it serves only to decorate the portal of the little chapel1 and is hardly regarded by the traveller as he enters4 ,when it is examined1 the history of the acts of the dead is found subdued into dim and minute ornament upon his coffin2 and the principal aim of the monument is to direct the thoughts to his image as he lies in death1 and to the expression of his hope of resurrection2 while1 seen as by the memory far away1 diminished in the brightness of the sky1 there is set the likeness of his armed youth1 stately1 as it stood of old1 in the front of battle1 and meet to be thus recorded for us1 that we may now be able to remember the dignity of the frame1 of which those who once looked upon it hardly remembered that it was dust4 ,,lv4 ,this1 ,i repeat1 is as much as may ever be granted1 but this ought always to be granted1 to the honor and the affection of men4 ,the tomb which stands beside that of ,can ,grande1 nearest it in the little field of sleep1 already shows the traces of erring ambition4 ,it is the tomb of ,mastino the ,second1 in whose reign began the decline of his family4 ,it is altogether exquisite as a work of art2 and the evidence of a less wise or noble feeling in its design is found only in this1 that the image of a virtue1 ,fortitude1 as belonging to the dead1 is placed on the extremity of the sarcophagus1 opposite to the ,crucifixion4 ,but for this slight circumstance1 of which the significance will only be appreciated as we examine the series of later monuments1 the composition of this monument of ,can ,mastino would have been as perfect as its decoration is refined4 ,it consists1 like that of ,can ,grande1 of the raised sarcophagus1 bearing the recumbent statue1 protected by a noble foursquare canopy1 sculptured with ancient ,scripture history4 ,on one side of the sarcophagus is ,christ enthroned1 with ,can ,mastino kneeling before ,him2 on the other1 ,christ is represented in the mystical form1 half-rising from the tomb1 meant1 ,i believe1 to be at once typical of ,his passion and resurrection4 ,the lateral panels are occupied by statues of saints4 ,at one extremity of the sarcophagus is the ,crucifixion2 at the other1 a noble statue of ,fortitude1 with a lion's skin thrown over her shoulders1 its head forming a shield upon her breast1 her flowing hair bound with a narrow fillet1 and a three-edged sword in her gauntleted right hand1 drawn back sternly behind her thigh1 while1 in her left1 she bears high the shield of the ,scalas4 ,,lvi4 ,close to this monument is another1 the stateliest and most sumptuous of the three2 it first arrests the eye of the stranger1 and long detains it1--a many-pinnacled pile surrounded by niches with statues of the warrior saints4 ,it is beautiful1 for it still belongs to the noble time1 the latter part of the fourteenth century2 but its work is coarser than that of the other1 and its pride may well prepare us to learn that it was built for himself1 in his own lifetime1 by the man whose statue crowns it1 ,can ,signorio della ,scala4 ,now observe1 for this is infinitely significant4 ,can ,mastino ,,ii4 was feeble and wicked1 and began the ruin of his house2 his sarcophagus is the first which bears upon it the image of a virtue1 but he lays claim only to ,fortitude4 ,can ,signorio was twice a fratricide1 the last time when he lay upon his death-bed3 his tomb bears upon its gables the images of six virtues1--,faith1 ,hope1 ,charity1 ,prudence1 and 7,i believe7 ,justice and ,fortitude4 ,,lvii4 ,let us now return to ,venice1 where1 in the second chapel counting from right to left1 at the west end of the ,church of the ,frari1 there is a very early fourteenth1 or perhaps late thirteenth1 century tomb1 another exquisite example of the perfect ,gothic form4 ,it is a knight's2 but there is no inscription upon it1 and his name is unknown4 ,it consists of a sarcophagus1 supported on bold brackets against the chapel wall1 bearing the recumbent figure1 protected by a simple canopy in the form of a pointed arch1 pinnacled by the knight's crest2 beneath which the shadowy space is painted dark blue1 and strewn with stars4 ,the statue itself is rudely carved2 but its lines1 as seen from the intended distance1 are both tender and masterly4 ,the knight is laid in his mail1 only the hands and face being bare4 ,the hauberk and helmet are of chain-mail1 the armor for the limbs of jointed steel2 a tunic1 fitting close to the breast1 and marking the noble swell of it by two narrow embroidered lines1 is worn over the mail2 his dagger is at his right side2 his long cross-belted sword1 not seen by the spectator from below1 at his left4 ,his feet rest on a hound 7the hound being his crest71 which looks up towards its master4 ,in general1 in tombs of this kind1 the face of the statue is slightly turned towards the spectator2 in this monument1 on the contrary1 it is turned away from him1 towards the depth of the arch3 for there1 just above the warrior's breast1 is carved a small image of ,st4 ,joseph bearing the infant ,christ1 who looks down upon the resting figure2 and to this image its countenance is turned4 ,the appearance of the entire tomb is as if the warrior had seen the vision of ,christ in his dying moments1 and had fallen back peacefully upon his pillow1 with his eyes still turned to it1 and his hands clasped in prayer4 ,,lviii4 ,on the opposite side of this chapel is another very lovely tomb1 to ,duccio degli ,alberti1 a ,florentine ambassador at ,venice2 noticeable chiefly as being the first in ,venice on which any images of the ,virtues appear4 ,we shall return to it presently1 but some account must first be given of the more important among the other tombs in ,venice belonging to the perfect period4 ,of these1 by far the most interesting1 though not the most elaborate1 is that of the great ,doge ,francesco ,dandolo1 whose ashes1 it might have been thought1 were honorable enough to have been permitted to rest undisturbed in the chapter-house of the ,frari1 where they were first laid4 ,but1 as if there were not room enough1 nor waste houses enough in the desolate city to receive a few convent papers1 the monks1 wanting an archivio1 have separated the tomb into three pieces3 the canopy1 a simple arch sustained on brackets1 still remains on the blank walls of the desecrated chamber2 the sarcophagus has been transported to a kind of museum of antiquities1 established in what was once the cloister of ,santa ,maria della ,salute2 and the painting which filled the lunette behind it is hung far out of sight1 at one end of the sacristy of the same church4 ,the sarcophagus is completely charged with bas-reliefs3 at its two extremities are the types of ,st4 ,mark and ,st4 ,john2 in front1 a noble sculpture of the death of the ,virgin2 at the angles1 angels holding vases4 ,the whole space is occupied by the sculpture2 there are no spiral shafts or panelled divisions2 only a basic plinth below1 and crowning plinth above1 the sculpture being raised from a deep concave field between the two1 but1 in order to give piquancy and picturesqueness to the mass of figures1 two small trees are introduced at the head and foot of the ,madonna's couch1 an oak and a stone pine4 ,,lix4 ,it was said above1#ag in speaking of the frequent disputes of the ,venetians with the ,pontifical power1 which in their early days they had so strenuously supported1 that the humiliation of ,francesco ,dandolo blotted out the shame of ,barbarossa4 ,it is indeed well that the two events should be remembered together4 ,by the help of the ,venetians1 ,alexander ,,iii4 was enabled1 in the twelfth century1 to put his foot upon the neck of the emperor ,barbarossa1 quoting the words of the ,psalm1 ,thou shalt tread upon the lion and the adder4 ,a hundred and fifty years later1 the ,venetian ambassador1 ,francesco ,dandolo1 unable to obtain even an audience from the ,pope1 ,clement ,v41 to whom he had been sent to pray for a removal of the sentence of excommunication pronounced against the republic1 concealed himself 7according to the common tradition7 beneath the ,pontiff's dining-table2 and thence coming out as he sat down to meat1 embraced his feet1 and obtained1 by tearful entreaties1 the removal of the terrible sentence4 ,i say1 according to the common tradition2 for there are some doubts cast upon the story by its supplement4 ,most of the ,venetian historians assert that ,francesco ,dandolo's surname of ,dog was given him first on this occasion1 in insult1 by the cardinals2 and that the ,venetians1 in remembrance of the grace which his humiliation had won for them1 made it a title of honor to him and to his race4 ,it has1 however1 been proved#ah that the surname was borne by the ancestors of ,francesco ,dandolo long before2 and the falsity of this seal of the legend renders also its circumstances doubtful4 ,but the main fact of grievous humiliation having been undergone1 admits of no dispute2 the existence of such a tradition at all is in itself a proof of its truth2 it was not one likely to be either invented or received without foundation3 and it will be well1 therefore1 that the reader should remember1 in connection with the treatment of ,barbarossa at the door of the ,church of ,st4 ,mark's1 that in the ,vatican1 one hundred and fifty years later1 a ,venetian noble1 a future ,doge1 submitted to a degradation1 of which the current report among his people was1 that he had crept on his hands and knees from beneath the ,pontiff's table to his feet1 and had been spurned as a dog by the cardinals present4 ,,lx4 ,there are two principal conclusions to be drawn from this3 the obvious one respecting the insolence of the ,papal dominion in the thirteenth century2 the second1 that there were probably most deep piety and humility in the character of the man who could submit to this insolence for the sake of a benefit to his country4 ,probably no motive would have been strong enough to obtain such a sacrifice from most men1 however unselfish2 but it was1 without doubt1 made easier to ,dandolo by his profound reverence for the ,pontifical office2 a reverence which1 however we may now esteem those who claimed it1 could not but have been felt by nearly all good and faithful men at the time of which we are speaking4 ,this is the main point which ,i wish the reader to remember as we look at his tomb1 this1 and the result of it1--that1 some years afterwards1 when he was seated on the throne which his piety had saved1 there were sixty princes' ambassadors in ,venice at the same time1 requesting the judgment of the ,senate on matters of various concernment1 so great was the fame of the uncorrupted justice of the ,fathers4#ai ,observe1 there are no virtues on this tomb4 ,nothing but religious history or symbols2 the ,death of the ,virgin in front1 and the types of ,st4 ,mark and ,st4 ,john at the extremities4 ,,lxi4 ,of the tomb of the ,doge ,andrea ,dandolo1 in ,st4 ,mark's1 ,i have spoken before4 ,it is one of the first in ,venice which presents1 in a canopy1 the ,pisan idea of angels withdrawing curtains1 as of a couch1 to look down upon the dead4 ,the sarcophagus is richly decorated with flower-work2 the usual figures of the ,annunciation are at the sides2 an enthroned ,madonna in the centre2 and two bas-reliefs1 one of the martyrdom of the ,doge's patron saint1 ,st4 ,andrew1 occupy the intermediate spaces4 ,all these tombs have been richly colored2 the hair of the angels has here been gilded1 their wings bedropped with silver1 and their garments covered with the most exquisite arabesques4 ,this tomb1 and that of ,st4 ,isidore in another chapel of ,st4 ,mark's1 which was begun by this very ,doge1 ,andrea ,dandolo1 and completed after his death in #aced1 are both nearly alike in their treatment1 and are1 on the whole1 the best existing examples of ,venetian monumental sculpture4 ,,lxii4 ,of much ruder workmanship1 though still most precious1 and singularly interesting from its quaintness1 is a sarcophagus in the northernmost chapel1 beside the choir of ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 charged with two bas-reliefs and many figures1 but which bears no inscription4 ,it has1 however1 a shield with three dolphins on its brackets2 and as at the feet of the ,madonna in its centre there is a small kneeling figure of a ,doge1 we know it to be the tomb of the ,doge ,giovanni ,dolfino1 who came to the throne in #acef4 ,he was chosen ,doge while1 as provveditore1 he was in ,treviso1 defending the city against the ,king of ,hungary4 ,the ,venetians sent to the besiegers1 praying that their newly elected ,doge might be permitted to pass the ,hungarian lines4 ,their request was refused1 the ,hungarians exulting that they held the ,doge of ,venice prisoner in ,treviso4 ,but ,dolfino1 with a body of two hundred horse1 cut his way through their lines by night1 and reached ,mestre 7,malghera7 in safety1 where he was met by the ,senate4 ,his bravery could not avert the misfortunes which were accumulating on the republic4 ,the ,hungarian war was ignominiously terminated by the surrender of ,dalmatia3 the ,doge's heart was broken1 his eyesight failed him1 and he died of the plague four years after he had ascended the throne4 ,,lxiii4 ,it is perhaps on this account1 perhaps in consequence of later injuries1 that the tomb has neither effigy nor inscription3 that it has been subjected to some violence is evident from the dentil which once crowned its leaf-cornice being now broken away1 showing the whole front4 ,but1 fortunately1 the sculpture of the sarcophagus itself is little injured4 ,there are two saints1 male and female1 at its angles1 each in a little niche2 a ,christ1 enthroned in the centre1 the ,doge and ,dogaressa kneeling at his feet2 in the two intermediate panels1 on one side the ,epiphany1 on the other the ,death of the ,virgin2 the whole supported1 as well as crowned1 by an elaborate leaf-plinth4 ,the figures under the niches are rudely cut1 and of little interest4 ,not so the central group4 ,instead of a niche1 the ,christ is seated under a square tent1 or tabernacle1 formed by curtains running on rods2 the idea1 of course1 as usual1 borrowed from the ,pisan one1 but here ingeniously applied4 ,the curtains are opened in front1 showing those at the back of the tent1 behind the seated figure2 the perspective of the two retiring sides being very tolerably suggested4 ,two angels1 of half the size of the seated figure1 thrust back the near curtains1 and look up reverently to the ,christ2 while again1 at their feet1 about one third of their size1 and half-sheltered1 as it seems1 by their garments1 are the two kneeling figures of the ,doge and ,dogaressa1 though so small and carefully cut1 full of life4 ,the ,christ raising one hand as to bless1 and holding a book upright and open on the knees1 does not look either towards them or to the angels1 but forward2 and there is a very noticeable effort to represent ,divine abstraction in the countenance3 the idea of the three magnitudes of spiritual being1--the ,god1 the ,angel1 and the ,man1--is also to be observed1 aided as it is by the complete subjection of the angelic power to the ,divine2 for the angels are in attitudes of the most lowly watchfulness of the face of ,christ1 and appear unconscious of the presence of the human beings who are nestled in the folds of their garments4 ,,lxiv4 ,with this interesting but modest tomb of one of the kings of ,venice1 it is desirable to compare that of one of her senators1 of exactly the same date1 which is raised against the western wall of the ,frari1 at the end of the north aisle4 ,it bears the following remarkable inscription3 ,,anno ,,mccclx4 prima die ,julii ,sepultura 4 ,domini 4 ,simonii ,dandolo 4 amador 4 de 4 ,justisia 4 e 4 desiroso 4 de 4 acrese 4 el 4 ben 4 chomum4 ,the ,amador de ,justitia has perhaps some reference to ,simon ,dandolo's having been one of the ,giunta who condemned the ,doge ,faliero4 ,the sarcophagus is decorated merely by the ,annunciation group1 and an enthroned ,madonna with a curtain behind her throne1 sustained by four tiny angels1 who look over it as they hold it up2 but the workmanship of the figures is more than usually beautiful4 ,,lxv4 ,seven years later1 a very noble monument was placed on the north side of the choir of ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 to the ,doge ,marco ,cornaro1 chiefly1 with respect to our present subject1 noticeable for the absence of religious imagery from the sarcophagus1 which is decorated with roses only2 three very beautiful statues of the ,madonna and two saints are1 however1 set in the canopy above4 ,opposite this tomb1 though about fifteen years later in date1 is the richest monument of the ,gothic period in ,venice2 that of the ,doge ,michele ,morosini1 who died in #achb4 ,it consists of a highly florid canopy1--an arch crowned by a gable1 with pinnacles at the flanks1 boldly crocketed1 and with a huge finial at the top representing ,st4 ,michael1--a medallion of ,christ set in the gable2 under the arch1 a mosaic1 representing the ,madonna presenting the ,doge to ,christ upon the cross2 beneath1 as usual1 the sarcophagus1 with a most noble recumbent figure of the ,doge1 his face meagre and severe1 and sharp in its lines1 but exquisite in the form of its small and princely features4 ,the sarcophagus is adorned with elaborate wrinkled leafage1 projecting in front of it into seven brackets1 from which the statues are broken away2 but by which1 for there can be no doubt that these last statues represented the theological and cardinal ,virtues1 we must for a moment pause4 ,,lxvi4 ,it was noticed above1 that the tomb of the ,florentine ambassador1 ,duccio1 was the first in ,venice which presented images of the ,virtues4 ,its small lateral statues of ,justice and ,temperance are exquisitely beautiful1 and were1 ,i have no doubt1 executed by a ,florentine sculptor2 the whole range of artistical power and religious feeling being1 in ,florence1 full half a century in advance of that of ,venice4 ,but this is the first truly ,venetian tomb which has the ,virtues2 and it becomes of importance1 therefore1 to know what was the character of ,morosini4 ,the reader must recollect1 that ,i dated the commencement of the fall of ,venice from the death of ,carlo ,zeno1 considering that no state could be held as in decline1 which numbered such a man amongst its citizens4 ,carlo ,zeno was a candidate for the ,ducal bonnet together with ,michael ,morosini2 and ,morosini was chosen4 ,it might be anticipated1 therefore1 that there was something more than usually admirable or illustrious in his character4 ,yet it is difficult to arrive at a just estimate of it1 as the reader will at once understand by comparing the following statements3 ,,lxvi4 #a4 ,to him 7,andrea ,contarini7 succeeded ,morosini1 at the age of seventy-four years2 a most learned and prudent man1 who also reformed several laws4--,sansovino1 ,vite de' ,principi4 #b4 ,it was generally believed that1 if his reign had been longer1 he would have dignified the state by many noble laws and institutes2 but by so much as his reign was full of hope1 by as much was it short in duration1 for he died when he had been at the head of the republic but four months4--,sabellico1 lib4 viii4 #c4 ,he was allowed but a short time to enjoy this high dignity1 which he had so well deserved by his rare virtues1 for ,god called him to ,himself on the #aeth of ,october4--,muratori1 ,annali de' ,italia4 #d4 ,two candidates presented themselves2 one was ,zeno1 the other that ,michael ,morosini who1 during the war1 had tripled his fortune by his speculations4 ,the suffrages of the electors fell upon him1 and he was proclaimed ,doge on the #ajth of ,june4--,daru1 ,histoire de ,venise1 lib4 x4 #e4 ,the choice of the electors was directed to ,michele ,morosini1 a noble of illustrious birth1 derived from a stock which1 coeval with the republic itself1 had produced the conqueror of ,tyre1 given a queen to ,hungary1 and more than one ,doge to ,venice4 ,the brilliancy of this descent was tarnished in the present chief representative of the family by the most base and grovelling avarice2 for at that moment1 in the recent war1 at which all other ,venetians were devoting their whole fortunes to the service of the state1 ,morosini sought in the distresses of his country an opening for his own private enrichment1 and employed his ducats1 not in the assistance of the national wants1 but in speculating upon houses which were brought to market at a price far beneath their real value1 and which1 upon the return of peace1 insured the purchaser a fourfold profit4 ',what matters the fall of ,venice to me1 so as ,i fall not together with her8' was his selfish and sordid reply to some one who expressed surprise at the transaction4--,sketches of ,venetian ,history4 ,murray1 #ahca4 ,,lxviii4 ,the writer of the unpretending little history from which the last quotation is taken has not given his authority for this statement1 and ,i could not find it1 but believed1 from the general accuracy of the book1 that some authority might exist better than ,daru's4 ,under these circumstances1 wishing if possible to ascertain the truth1 and to clear the character of this great ,doge from the accusation1 if it proved groundless1 ,i wrote to the ,count ,carlo ,morosini1 his descendant1 and one of the few remaining representatives of the ancient noblesse of ,venice2 one1 also1 by whom his great ancestral name is revered1 and in whom it is exalted4 ,his answer appears to me altogether conclusive as to the utter fallacy of the reports of ,daru and the ,english history4 ,i have placed his letter in the close of this volume 7,appendix #f71 in order that the reader may himself be the judge upon this point2 and ,i should not have alluded to ,daru's report1 except for the purpose of contradicting it1 but that it still appears to me impossible that any modern historian should have gratuitously invented the whole story1 and that1 therefore1 there must have been a trace in the documents which ,daru himself possessed1 of some scandal of this kind raised by ,morosini's enemies1 perhaps at the very time of the disputed election with ,carlo ,zeno4 ,the occurrence of the ,virtues upon his tomb1 for the first time in ,venetian monumental work1 and so richly and conspicuously placed1 may partly have been in public contradiction of such a floating rumor4 ,but the face of the statue is a more explicit contradiction still2 it is resolute1 thoughtful1 serene1 and full of beauty2 and we must1 therefore1 for once1 allow the somewhat boastful introduction of the ,virtues to have been perfectly just3 though the whole tomb is most notable1 as furnishing not only the exact intermediate condition in style between the pure ,gothic and its final ,renaissance corruption1 but1 at the same time1 the exactly intermediate condition of feeling between the pure calmness of early ,christianity1 and the boastful pomp of the ,renaissance faithlessness2 for here we have still the religious humility remaining in the mosaic of the canopy1 which shows the ,doge kneeling before the cross1 while yet this tendency to self-trust is shown in the surrounding of the coffin by the ,virtues4 ,,lxix4 ,the next tomb by the side of which they appear is that of ,jacopo ,cavalli1 in the same chapel of ,st4 ,john and ,paul which contains the tomb of the ,doge ,delfin4 ,it is peculiarly rich in religious imagery1 adorned by boldly cut types of the four evangelists1 and of two saints1 while1 on projecting brackets in front of it1 stood three statues of ,faith1 ,hope1 and ,charity1 now lost1 but drawn in ,zanotto's work4 ,it is all rich in detail1 and its sculptor has been proud of it1 thus recording his name below the epitaph3 ,,qst ,,opera ,,dintalgio ,e ,,fatto ,,in ,,piera1 ,,unvenician ,,lafe ,,chanome ,,polo1 ,,nato ,,di ,,jachomel ,,chataiapiera4 ,this work of sculpture is done in stone2 ,a ,venetian did it1 named ,paul1 ,son of ,jachomel the stone-cutter4 ,jacopo ,cavalli died in #achd4 ,he was a bold and active ,veronese soldier1 did the state much service1 was therefore ennobled by it1 and became the founder of the house of the ,cavalli2 but ,i find no especial reason for the images of the ,virtues1 especially that of ,charity1 appearing at his tomb1 unless it be this3 that at the siege of ,feltre1 in the war against ,leopold of ,austria1 he refused to assault the city1 because the senate would not grant his soldiers the pillage of the town4 ,the feet of the recumbent figure1 which is in full armor1 rest on a dog1 and its head on two lions2 and these animals 7neither of which form any part of the knight's bearings7 are said by ,zanotto to be intended to symbolize his bravery and fidelity4 ,if1 however1 the lions are meant to set forth courage1 it is a pity they should have been represented as howling4 ,,lxx4 ,we must next pause for an instant beside the tomb of ,michael ,steno1 now in the northern aisle of ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 having been removed there from the destroyed church of the ,servi3 first1 to note its remarkable return to the early simplicity1 the sarcophagus being decorated only with two crosses in quatrefoils1 though it is of the fifteenth century1 ,steno dying in #adac2 and1 in the second place1 to observe the peculiarity of the epitaph1 which eulogises ,steno as having been amator justitie1 pacis1 et ubertatis1 a lover of justice1 peace1 and plenty4 ,in the epitaphs of this period1 the virtues which are made most account of in public men are those which were most useful to their country4 ,we have already seen one example in the epitaph on ,simon ,dandolo2 and similar expressions occur constantly in laudatory mentions of their later ,doges by the ,venetian writers4 ,thus ,sansovino of ,marco ,cornaro1 ,era savio huomo1 eloquente1 e amava molto la pace e l' abbondanza della citta2 and of ,tomaso ,mocenigo1 ,huomo oltre modo desideroso della pace4 ,of the tomb of this last-named ,doge mention has before been made4 ,here1 as in ,morosini's1 the images of the ,virtues have no ironical power1 although their great conspicuousness marks the increase of the boastful feeling in the treatment of monuments4 ,for the rest1 this tomb is the last in ,venice which can be considered as belonging to the ,gothic period4 ,its mouldings are already rudely classical1 and it has meaningless figures in ,roman armor at the angles2 but its tabernacle above is still ,gothic1 and the recumbent figure is very beautiful4 ,it was carved by two ,florentine sculptors in #adbc4 ,,lxxi4 ,tomaso ,mocenigo was succeeded by the renowned ,doge1 ,francesco ,foscari1 under whom1 it will be remembered1 the last additions were made to the ,gothic ,ducal ,palace2 additions which1 in form only1 not in spirit1 corresponded to the older portions2 since1 during his reign1 the transition took place which permits us no longer to consider the ,venetian architecture as ,gothic at all4 ,he died in #adeg1 and his tomb is the first important example of ,renaissance art4 ,not1 however1 a good characteristic example4 ,it is remarkable chiefly as introducing all the faults of the ,renaissance at an early period1 when its merits1 such as they are1 were yet undeveloped4 ,its claim to be rated as a classical composition is altogether destroyed by the remnants of ,gothic feeling which cling to it here and there in their last forms of degradation2 and of which1 now that we find them thus corrupted1 the sooner we are rid the better4 ,thus the sarcophagus is supported by a species of trefoil arches2 the bases of the shafts have still their spurs2 and the whole tomb is covered by a pediment1 with crockets and a pinnacle4 ,we shall find that the perfect ,renaissance is at least pure in its insipidity1 and subtle in its vice2 but this monument is remarkable as showing the refuse of one style encumbering the embryo of another1 and all principles of life entangled either in the swaddling clothes or the shroud4 ,,lxxii4 ,with respect to our present purpose1 however1 it is a monument of enormous importance4 ,we have to trace1 be it remembered1 the pride of state in its gradual intrusion upon the sepulchre2 and the consequent and correlative vanishing of the expressions of religious feeling and heavenly hope1 together with the more and more arrogant setting forth of the virtues of the dead4 ,now this tomb is the largest and most costly we have yet seen2 but its means of religious expression are limited to a single statue of ,christ1 small and used merely as a pinnacle at the top4 ,the rest of the composition is as curious as it is vulgar4 ,the conceit1 so often noticed as having been borrowed from the ,pisan school1 of angels withdrawing the curtains of the couch to look down upon the dead1 was brought forward with increasing prominence by every succeeding sculptor2 but1 as we draw nearer to the ,renaissance period1 we find that the angels become of less importance1 and the curtains of more4 ,with the ,pisans1 the curtains are introduced as a motive for the angels2 with the ,renaissance sculptors1 the angels are introduced merely as a motive for the curtains1 which become every day more huge and elaborate4 ,in the monument of ,mocenigo1 they have already expanded into a tent1 with a pole in the centre of it3 and in that of ,foscari1 for the first time1 the angels are absent altogether2 while the curtains are arranged in the form of an enormous ,french tent-bed1 and are sustained at the flanks by two diminutive figures in ,roman armor2 substituted for the angels1 merely that the sculptor might show his knowledge of classical costume4 ,and now observe how often a fault in feeling induces also a fault in style4 ,in the old tombs1 the angels used to stand on or by the side of the sarcophagus2 but their places are here to be occupied by the ,virtues1 and therefore1 to sustain the diminutive ,roman figures at the necessary height1 each has a whole ,corinthian pillar to himself1 a pillar whose shaft is eleven feet high1 and some three or four feet round3 and because this was not high enough1 it is put on a pedestal four feet and a half high2 and has a spurred base besides of its own1 a tall capital1 then a huge bracket above the capital1 and then another pedestal above the bracket1 and on the top of all the diminutive figure who has charge of the curtains4 ,,lxxiii4 ,under the canopy1 thus arranged1 is placed the sarcophagus with its recumbent figure4 ,the statues of the ,virgin and the saints have disappeared from it4 ,in their stead1 its panels are filled with half-length figures of ,faith1 ,hope1 and ,charity2 while ,temperance and ,fortitude are at the ,doge's feet1 ,justice and ,prudence at his head1 figures now the size of life1 yet nevertheless recognizable only by their attributes3 for1 except that ,hope raises her eyes1 there is no difference in the character or expression of any of their faces1--they are nothing more than handsome ,venetian women1 in rather full and courtly dresses1 and tolerably well thrown into postures for effect from below4 ,fortitude could not of course be placed in a graceful one without some sacrifice of her character1 but that was of no consequence in the eyes of the sculptors of this period1 so she leans back languidly1 and nearly overthrows her own column2 while ,temperance1 and ,justice opposite to her1 as neither the left hand of the one nor the right hand of the other could be seen from below1 have been left with one hand each4 ,,lxxiv4 ,still these figures1 coarse and feelingless as they are1 have been worked with care1 because the principal effect of the tomb depends on them4 ,but the effigy of the ,doge1 of which nothing but the side is visible1 has been utterly neglected2 and the ingenuity of the sculptor is not so great1 at the best1 as that he can afford to be slovenly4 ,there is1 indeed1 nothing in the history of ,foscari which would lead us to expect anything particularly noble in his face2 but ,i trust1 nevertheless1 it has been misrepresented by this despicable carver2 for no words are strong enough to express the baseness of the portraiture4 ,a huge1 gross1 bony clown's face1 with the peculiar sodden and sensual cunning in it which is seen so often in the countenances of the worst ,romanist priest2 a face part of iron and part of clay1 with the immobility of the one1 and the foulness of the other1 double chinned1 blunt-mouthed1 bony-cheeked1 with its brows drawn down into meagre lines and wrinkles over the eyelids2 the face of a man incapable either of joy or sorrow1 unless such as may be caused by the indulgence of passion1 or the mortification of pride4 ,even had he been such a one1 a noble workman would not have written it so legibly on his tomb2 and ,i believe it to be the image of the carver's own mind that is there hewn in the marble1 not that of the ,doge ,foscari4 ,for the same mind is visible enough throughout1 the traces of it mingled with those of the evil taste of the whole time and people4 ,there is not anything so small but it is shown in some portion of its treatment2 for instance1 in the placing of the shields at the back of the great curtain4 ,in earlier times1 the shield1 as we have seen1 was represented as merely suspended against the tomb by a thong1 or if sustained in any other manner1 still its form was simple and undisguised4 ,men in those days used their shields in war1 and therefore there was no need to add dignity to their form by external ornament4 ,that which1 through day after day of mortal danger1 had borne back from them the waves of battle1 could neither be degraded by simplicity1 nor exalted by decoration4 ,by its rude leathern thong it seemed to be fastened to their tombs1 and the shield of the mighty was not cast away1 though capable of defending its master no more4 ,,lxxv4 ,it was otherwise in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries4 ,the changed system of warfare was rapidly doing away with the practical service of the shield2 and the chiefs who directed the battle from a distance1 or who passed the greater part of their lives in the council-chamber1 soon came to regard the shield as nothing more than a field for their armorial bearings4 ,it then became a principal object of their ,pride of ,state to increase the conspicuousness of these marks of family distinction by surrounding them with various and fantastic ornament1 generally scroll or flower work1 which of course deprived the shield of all appearance of being intended for a soldier's use4 ,thus the shield of the ,foscari is introduced in two ways4 ,on the sarcophagus1 the bearings are three times repeated1 enclosed in circular disks1 which are sustained each by a couple of naked infants4 ,above the canopy1 two shields of the usual form are set in the centre of circles filled by a radiating ornament of shell flutings1 which give them the effect of ventilators2 and their circumference is farther adorned by gilt rays1 undulating to represent a glory4 ,,lxxvi4 ,we now approach that period of the early ,renaissance which was noticed in the preceding chapter as being at first a very visible improvement on the corrupted ,gothic4 ,the tombs executed during the period of the ,byzantine ,renaissance exhibit1 in the first place1 a consummate skill in handling the chisel1 perfect science of drawing and anatomy1 high appreciation of good classical models1 and a grace of composition and delicacy of ornament derived1 ,i believe1 principally from the great ,florentine sculptors4 ,but1 together with this science1 they exhibit also1 for a short time1 some return to the early religious feeling1 forming a school of sculpture which corresponds to that of the school of the ,bellini in painting2 and the only wonder is that there should not have been more workmen in the fifteenth century doing in marble what ,perugino1 ,francia1 and ,bellini did on canvas4 ,there are1 indeed1 some few1 as ,i have just said1 in whom the good and pure temper shows itself3 but the sculptor was necessarily led sooner than the painter to an exclusive study of classical models1 utterly adverse to the ,christian imagination2 and he was also deprived of the great purifying and sacred element of color1 besides having much more of merely mechanical and therefore degrading labor to go through in the realization of his thought4 ,hence ,i do not know any example in sculpture at this period1 at least in ,venice1 which has not conspicuous faults 7not faults of imperfection1 as in early sculpture1 but of purpose and sentiment71 staining such beauties as it may possess2 and the whole school soon falls away1 and merges into vain pomp and meagre metaphor4 ,,lxxvii4 ,the most celebrated monument of this period is that to the ,doge ,andrea ,vendramin1 in the ,church of ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 sculptured about #adhj1 and before alluded to in the first chapter of the first volume4 ,it has attracted public admiration1 partly by its costliness1 partly by the delicacy and precision of its chiselling2 being otherwise a very base and unworthy example of the school1 and showing neither invention nor feeling4 ,it has the ,virtues1 as usual1 dressed like heathen goddesses1 and totally devoid of expression1 though graceful and well studied merely as female figures4 ,the rest of its sculpture is all of the same kind2 perfect in workmanship1 and devoid of thought4 ,its dragons are covered with marvellous scales1 but have no terror nor sting in them2 its birds are perfect in plumage1 but have no song in them2 its children lovely of limb1 but have no childishness in them4 ,,lxxviii4 ,of far other workmanship are the tombs of ,pietro and ,giovanni ,mocenigo1 in ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 and of ,pietro ,bernardo in the ,frari2 in all which the details are as full of exquisite fancy1 as they are perfect in execution2 and in the two former1 and several others of similar feeling1 the old religious symbols return2 the ,madonna is again seen enthroned under the canopy1 and the sarcophagus is decorated with legends of the saints4 ,but the fatal errors of sentiment are1 nevertheless1 always traceable4 ,in the first place1 the sculptor is always seen to be intent upon the exhibition of his skill1 more than on producing any effect on the spectator's mind2 elaborate backgrounds of landscape1 with tricks of perspective1 imitations of trees1 clouds1 and water1 and various other unnecessary adjuncts1 merely to show how marble could be subdued2 together with useless under-cutting1 and over-finish in subordinate parts1 continually exhibiting the same cold vanity and unexcited precision of mechanism4 ,in the second place1 the figures have all the peculiar tendency to posture-making1 which1 exhibiting itself first painfully in ,perugino1 rapidly destroyed the veracity of composition in all art4 ,by posture-making ,i mean1 in general1 that action of figures which results from the painter's considering1 in the first place1 not how1 under the circumstances1 they would actually have walked1 or stood1 or looked1 but how they may most gracefully and harmoniously walk or stand4 ,in the hands of a great man1 posture1 like everything else1 becomes noble1 even when over-studied1 as with ,michael ,angelo1 who was1 perhaps1 more than any other1 the cause of the mischief2 but1 with inferior men1 this habit of composing attitudes ends necessarily in utter lifelessness and abortion4 ,giotto was1 perhaps1 of all painters1 the most free from the infection of the poison1 always conceiving an incident naturally1 and drawing it unaffectedly2 and the absence of posture-making in the works of the ,pre-,raphaelites1 as opposed to the ,attitudinarianism of the modern school1 has been both one of their principal virtues1 and of the principal causes of outcry against them4 ,,lxxix4 ,but the most significant change in the treatment of these tombs1 with respect to our immediate object1 is in the form of the sarcophagus4 ,it was above noted1 that1 exactly in proportion to the degree of the pride of life expressed in any monument1 would be also the fear of death2 and therefore1 as these tombs increase in splendor1 in size1 and beauty of workmanship1 we perceive a gradual desire to take away from the definite character of the sarcophagus4 ,in the earliest times1 as we have seen1 it was a gloomy mass of stone2 gradually it became charged with religious sculpture2 but never with the slightest desire to disguise its form1 until towards the middle of the fifteenth century4 ,it then becomes enriched with flower-work and hidden by the ,virtues2 and1 finally1 losing its foursquare form1 it is modelled on graceful types of ancient vases1 made as little like a coffin as possible1 and refined away in various elegancies1 till it becomes1 at last1 a mere pedestal or stage for the portrait statue4 ,this statue1 in the meantime1 has been gradually coming back to life1 through a curious series of transitions4 ,the ,vendramin monument is one of the last which shows1 or pretends to show1 the recumbent figure laid in death4 ,a few years later1 this idea became disagreeable to polite minds2 and1 lo6 the figures which before had been laid at rest upon the tomb pillow1 raised themselves on their elbows1 and began to look round them4 ,the soul of the sixteenth century dared not contemplate its body in death4 ,,lxxx4 ,the reader cannot but remember many instances of this form of monument1 ,england being peculiarly rich in examples of them2 although1 with her1 tomb sculpture1 after the fourteenth century1 is altogether imitative1 and in no degree indicative of the temper of the people4 ,it was from ,italy that the authority for the change was derived2 and in ,italy only1 therefore1 that it is truly correspondent to the change in the national mind4 ,there are many monuments in ,venice of this semi-animate type1 most of them carefully sculptured1 and some very admirable as portraits1 and for the casting of the drapery1 especially those in the ,church of ,san ,salvador2 but ,i shall only direct the reader to one1 that of ,jacopo ,pesaro1 ,bishop of ,paphos1 in the ,church of the ,frari2 notable not only as a very skilful piece of sculpture1 but for the epitaph1 singularly characteristic of the period1 and confirmatory of all that ,i have alleged against it3 ,james ,pesaro1 ,bishop of ,paphos1 who conquered the ,turks in war1 himself in peace1 transported from a noble family among the ,venetians to a nobler among the angels1 laid here1 expects the noblest crown1 which the just ,judge shall give to him in that day4 ,he lived the years of ,plato4 ,he died #bdth ,march1 #aedg4bj ,the mingled classicism and carnal pride of this epitaph surely need no comment4 ,the crown is expected as a right from the justice of the judge1 and the nobility of the ,venetian family is only a little lower than that of the angels4 ,the quaint childishness of the ,vixit annos ,platonicos is also very notable4 ,,lxxxi4 ,the statue1 however1 did not long remain in this partially recumbent attitude4 ,even the expression of peace became painful to the frivolous and thoughtless ,italians1 and they required the portraiture to be rendered in a manner that should induce no memory of death4 ,the statue rose up1 and presented itself in front of the tomb1 like an actor upon a stage1 surrounded now not merely1 or not at all1 by the ,virtues1 but by allegorical figures of ,fame and ,victory1 by genii and muses1 by personifications of humbled kingdoms and adoring nations1 and by every circumstance of pomp1 and symbol of adulation1 that flattery could suggest1 or insolence could claim4 ,,lxxxii4 ,as of the intermediate monumental type1 so also of this1 the last and most gross1 there are unfortunately many examples in our own country2 but the most wonderful1 by far1 are still at ,venice4 ,i shall1 however1 particularize only two2 the first1 that of the ,doge ,john ,pesaro1 in the ,frari4 ,it is to be observed that we have passed over a considerable interval of time2 we are now in the latter half of the seventeenth century2 the progress of corruption has in the meantime been incessant1 and sculpture has here lost its taste and learning as well as its feeling4 ,the monument is a huge accumulation of theatrical scenery in marble3 four colossal negro caryatides1 grinning and horrible1 with faces of black marble and white eyes1 sustain the first story of it2 above this1 two monsters1 long-necked1 half dog and half dragon1 sustain an ornamental sarcophagus1 on the top of which the full-length statue of the ,doge in robes of state stands forward with its arms expanded1 like an actor courting applause1 under a huge canopy of metal1 like the roof of a bed1 painted crimson and gold2 on each side of him are sitting figures of genii1 and unintelligible personifications gesticulating in ,roman armor2 below1 between the negro caryatides1 are two ghastly figures in bronze1 half corpse1 half skeleton1 carrying tablets on which is written the eulogium3 but in large letters graven in gold1 the following words are the first and last that strike the eye2 the first two phrases1 one on each side1 on tablets in the lower story1 the last under the portrait statue above3 ,,vixit ,,annos ,,lxx4 ,,devixit ,,anno ,,mdclix4 ,,hic ,,revixit ,,anno ,,mdclxix4 ,we have here1 at last1 the horrible images of death in violent contrast with the defiant monument1 which pretends to bring the resurrection down to earth1 ,hic revixit2 and it seems impossible for false taste and base feeling to sink lower4 ,yet even this monument is surpassed by one in ,st4 ,john and ,paul4 ,,lxxxiii4 ,but before we pass to this1 the last with which ,i shall burden the reader's attention1 let us for a moment1 and that we may feel the contrast more forcibly1 return to a tomb of the early times4 ,in a dark niche in the outer wall of the outer corridor of ,st4 ,mark's--not even in the church1 observe1 but in the atrium or porch of it1 and on the north side of the church1--is a solid sarcophagus of white marble1 raised only about two feet from the ground on four stunted square pillars4 ,its lid is a mere slab of stone2 on its extremities are sculptured two crosses2 in front of it are two rows of rude figures1 the uppermost representing ,christ with the ,apostles3 the lower row is of six figures only1 alternately male and female1 holding up their hands in the usual attitude of benediction2 the sixth is smaller than the rest1 and the midmost of the other five has a glory round its head4 ,i cannot tell the meaning of these figures1 but between them are suspended censers attached to crosses2 a most beautiful symbolic expression of ,christ's mediatorial function4 ,the whole is surrounded by a rude wreath of vine leaves1 proceeding out of the foot of a cross4 ,on the bar of marble which separates the two rows of figures are inscribed these words3 ,here lies the ,lord ,marin ,morosini1 ,duke4 ,it is the tomb of the ,doge ,marino ,morosini1 who reigned from #abdi to #abeb4 ,,lxxxiv4 ,from before this rude and solemn sepulchre let us pass to the southern aisle of the church of ,st4 ,john and ,paul2 and there1 towering from the pavement to the vaulting of the church1 behold a mass of marble1 sixty or seventy feet in height1 of mingled yellow and white1 the yellow carved into the form of an enormous curtain1 with ropes1 fringes1 and tassels1 sustained by cherubs2 in front of which1 in the now usual stage attitudes1 advance the statues of the ,doge ,bertuccio ,valier1 his son the ,doge ,silvester ,falier1 and his son's wife1 ,elizabeth4 ,the statues of the ,doges1 though mean and ,polonius-like1 are partly redeemed by the ,ducal robes2 but that of the ,dogaressa is a consummation of grossness1 vanity1 and ugliness1--the figure of a large and wrinkled woman1 with elaborate curls in stiff projection round her face1 covered from her shoulders to her feet with ruffs1 furs1 lace1 jewels1 and embroidery4 ,beneath and around are scattered ,virtues1 ,victories1 ,fames1 genii1--the entire company of the monumental stage assembled1 as before a drop scene1--executed by various sculptors1 and deserving attentive study as exhibiting every condition of false taste and feeble conception4 ,the ,victory in the centre is peculiarly interesting2 the lion by which she is accompanied1 springing on a dragon1 has been intended to look terrible1 but the incapable sculptor could not conceive any form of dreadfulness1 could not even make the lion look angry4 ,it looks only lachrymose2 and its lifted forepaws1 there being no spring nor motion in its body1 give it the appearance of a dog begging4 ,the inscriptions under the two principal statues are as follows3 ,bertucius ,valier1 ,duke1 ,great in wisdom and eloquence1 ,greater in his ,hellespontic victory1 ,greatest in the ,prince his son4 ,died in the year #afeh4 ,elisabeth ,quirina1 ,the wife of ,silvester1 ,distinguished by ,roman virtue1 ,by ,venetian piety1 ,and by the ,ducal crown1 ,died #agjh4 ,the writers of this age were generally anxious to make the world aware that they understood the degrees of comparison1 and a large number of epitaphs are principally constructed with this object 7compare1 in the ,latin1 that of the ,bishop of ,paphos1 given above73 but the latter of these epitaphs is also interesting from its mention1 in an age now altogether given up to the pursuit of worldly honor1 of that ,venetian piety which once truly distinguished the city from all others2 and of which some form and shadow1 remaining still1 served to point an epitaph1 and to feed more cunningly and speciously the pride which could not be satiated with the sumptuousness of the sepulchre4 ,,lxxxv4 ,thus far1 then1 of the second element of the ,renaissance spirit1 the ,pride of ,state2 nor need we go farther to learn the reason of the fall of ,venice4 ,she was already likened in her thoughts1 and was therefore to be likened in her ruin1 to the ,virgin of ,babylon4 ,the ,pride of ,state and the ,pride of ,knowledge were no new passions3 the sentence against them had gone forth from everlasting4 ,thou saidst1 ,i shall be a lady for ever2 so that thou didst not lay these things to thine heart 444 ,thy wisdom and thy knowledge1 it hath perverted thee2 and thou hast said in thine heart1 ,i am1 and none else beside me4 ,therefore shall evil come upon thee 4442 thy merchants from thy youth1 they shall wander every one to his quarter2 none shall save thee4#ba ,,lxxxvi4 ,,iii4 ,,pride ,,of ,,system4 ,i might have illustrated these evil principles from a thousand other sources1 but ,i have not time to pursue the subject farther1 and must pass to the third element above named1 the ,pride of ,system4 ,it need not detain us so long as either of the others1 for it is at once more palpable and less dangerous4 ,the manner in which the pride of the fifteenth century corrupted the sources of knowledge1 and diminished the majesty1 while it multiplied the trappings1 of state1 is in general little observed2 but the reader is probably already well and sufficiently aware of the curious tendency to formulization and system which1 under the name of philosophy1 encumbered the minds of the ,renaissance schoolmen4 ,as it was above stated1 grammar became the first of sciences2 and whatever subject had to be treated1 the first aim of the philosopher was to subject its principles to a code of laws1 in the observation of which the merit of the speaker1 thinker1 or worker1 in or on that subject1 was thereafter to consist2 so that the whole mind of the world was occupied by the exclusive study of ,restraints4 ,the sound of the forging of fetters was heard from sea to sea4 ,the doctors of all the arts and sciences set themselves daily to the invention of new varieties of cages and manacles2 they themselves wore1 instead of gowns1 a chain mail1 whose purpose was not so much to avert the weapon of the adversary as to restrain the motions of the wearer2 and all the acts1 thoughts1 and workings of mankind1--poetry1 painting1 architecture1 and philosophy1--were reduced by them merely to so many different forms of fetter-dance4 ,,lxxxvii4 ,now1 ,i am very sure that no reader who has given any attention to the former portions of this work1 or the tendency of what else ,i have written1 more especially the last chapter of the ,seven ,lamps1 will suppose me to underrate the importance1 or dispute the authority1 of law4 ,it has been necessary for me to allege these again and again1 nor can they ever be too often or too energetically alleged1 against the vast masses of men who now disturb or retard the advance of civilization2 heady and high-minded1 despisers of discipline1 and refusers of correction4 ,but law1 so far as it can be reduced to form and system1 and is not written upon the heart1--as it is1 in a ,divine loyalty1 upon the hearts of the great hierarchies who serve and wait about the throne of the ,eternal ,lawgiver1--this lower and formally expressible law has1 ,i say1 two objects4 ,it is either for the definition and restraint of sin1 or the guidance of simplicity2 it either explains1 forbids1 and punishes wickedness1 or it guides the movements and actions both of lifeless things and of the more simple and untaught among responsible agents4 ,and so long1 therefore1 as sin and foolishness are in the world1 so long it will be necessary for men to submit themselves painfully to this lower law1 in proportion to their need of being corrected1 and to the degree of childishness or simplicity by which they approach more nearly to the condition of the unthinking and inanimate things which are governed by law altogether2 yet yielding1 in the manner of their submission to it1 a singular lesson to the pride of man1--being obedient more perfectly in proportion to their greatness4#bb ,but1 so far as men become good and wise1 and rise above the state of children1 so far they become emancipated from this written law1 and invested with the perfect freedom which consists in the fulness and joyfulness of compliance with a higher and unwritten law2 a law so universal1 so subtle1 so glorious1 that nothing but the heart can keep it4 ,,lxxxviii4 ,now pride opposes itself to the observance of this ,divine law in two opposite ways3 either by brute resistance1 which is the way of the rabble and its leaders1 denying or defying law altogether2 or by formal compliance1 which is the way of the ,pharisee1 exalting himself while he pretends to obedience1 and making void the infinite and spiritual commandment by the finite and lettered commandment4 ,and it is easy to know which law we are obeying3 for any law which we magnify and keep through pride1 is always the law of the letter2 but that which we love and keep through humility1 is the law of the ,spirit3 ,and the letter killeth1 but the ,spirit giveth life4 ,,lxxxix4 ,in the appliance of this universal principle to what we have at present in hand1 it is to be noted1 that all written or writable law respecting the arts is for the childish and ignorant3 that in the beginning of teaching1 it is possible to say that this or that must or must not be done2 and laws of color and shade may be taught1 as laws of harmony are to the young scholar in music4 ,but the moment a man begins to be anything deserving the name of an artist1 all this teachable law has become a matter of course with him2 and if1 thenceforth1 he boast himself anywise in the law1 or pretend that he lives and works by it1 it is a sure sign that he is merely tithing cummin1 and that there is no true art nor religion in him4 ,for the true artist has that inspiration in him which is above all law1 or rather1 which is continually working out such magnificent and perfect obedience to supreme law1 as can in no wise be rendered by line and rule4 ,there are more laws perceived and fulfilled in the single stroke of a great workman1 than could be written in a volume4 ,his science is inexpressibly subtle1 directly taught him by his ,maker1 not in any wise communicable or imitable4#bc ,neither can any written or definitely observable laws enable us to do any great thing4 ,it is possible1 by measuring and administering quantities of color1 to paint a room wall so that it shall not hurt the eye2 but there are no laws by observing which we can become ,titians4 ,it is possible so to measure and administer syllables1 as to construct harmonious verse2 but there are no laws by which we can write ,iliads4 ,out of the poem or the picture1 once produced1 men may elicit laws by the volume1 and study them with advantage1 to the better understanding of the existing poem or picture2 but no more write or paint another1 than by discovering laws of vegetation they can make a tree to grow4 ,and therefore1 wheresoever we find the system and formality of rules much dwelt upon1 and spoken of as anything else than a help for children1 there we may be sure that noble art is not even understood1 far less reached4 ,and thus it was with all the common and public mind in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries4 ,the greater men1 indeed1 broke through the thorn hedges2 and1 though much time was lost by the learned among them in writing ,latin verses and anagrams1 and arranging the framework of quaint sonnets and dexterous syllogisms1 still they tore their way through the sapless thicket by force of intellect or of piety2 for it was not possible that1 either in literature or in painting1 rules could be received by any strong mind1 so as materially to interfere with its originality3 and the crabbed discipline and exact scholarship became an advantage to the men who could pass through and despise them2 so that in spite of the rules of the drama we had ,shakspeare1 and in spite of the rules of art we had ,tintoret1--both of them1 to this day1 doing perpetual violence to the vulgar scholarship and dim-eyed proprieties of the multitude4 ,,xc4 ,but in architecture it was not so2 for that was the art of the multitude1 and was affected by all their errors2 and the great men who entered its field1 like ,michael ,angelo1 found expression for all the best part of their minds in sculpture1 and made the architecture merely its shell4 ,so the simpletons and sophists had their way with it3 and the reader can have no conception of the inanities and puerilities of the writers1 who1 with the help of ,vitruvius1 re-established its five orders1 determined the proportions of each1 and gave the various recipes for sublimity and beauty1 which have been thenceforward followed to this day1 but which may1 ,i believe1 in this age of perfect machinery1 be followed out still farther4 ,if1 indeed1 there are only five perfect forms of columns and architraves1 and there be a fixed proportion to each1 it is certainly possible1 with a little ingenuity1 so to regulate a stonecutting machine1 as that it shall furnish pillars and friezes to the size ordered1 of any of the five orders1 on the most perfect ,greek models1 in any quantity2 an epitome1 also1 of ,vitruvius1 may be made so simple1 as to enable any bricklayer to set them up at their proper distances1 and we may dispense with our architects altogether4 ,,xci4 ,but if this be not so1 and there be any truth in the faint persuasion which still lurks in men's minds that architecture is an art1 and that it requires some gleam of intellect to practise it1 then let the whole system of the orders and their proportions be cast out and trampled down as the most vain1 barbarous1 and paltry deception that was ever stamped on human prejudice2 and let us understand this plain truth1 common to all work of man1 that1 if it be good work1 it is not a copy1 nor anything done by rule1 but a freshly and divinely imagined thing4 ,five orders6 ,there is not a side chapel in any ,gothic cathedral but it has fifty orders1 the worst of them better than the best of the ,greek ones1 and all new2 and a single inventive human soul could create a thousand orders in an hour4#bd ,and this would have been discovered even in the worst times1 but that1 as ,i said1 the greatest men of the age found expression for their invention in the other arts1 and the best of those who devoted themselves to architecture were in great part occupied in adapting the construction of buildings to new necessities1 such as those developed by the invention of gunpowder 7introducing a totally new and most interesting science of fortification1 which directed the ingenuity of ,sanmicheli and many others from its proper channel71 and found interest of a meaner kind in the difficulties of reconciling the obsolete architectural laws they had consented to revive1 and the forms of ,roman architecture which they agreed to copy1 with the requirements of the daily life of the sixteenth century4 ,,xcii4 ,these1 then1 were the three principal directions in which the ,renaissance pride manifested itself1 and its impulses were rendered still more fatal by the entrance of another element1 inevitably associated with pride4 ,for1 as it is written1 ,he that trusteth in his own heart is a fool1 so also it is written1 ,the fool hath said in his heart1 ,there is no ,god2 and the self-adulation which influenced not less the learning of the age than its luxury1 led gradually to the forgetfulness of all things but self1 and to an infidelity only the more fatal because it still retained the form and language of faith4 ,,xciii4 ,,iv4 ,,infidelity4 ,in noticing the more prominent forms in which this faithlessness manifested itself1 it is necessary to distinguish justly between that which was the consequence of respect for ,paganism1 and that which followed from the corruption of ,catholicism4 ,for as the ,roman architecture is not to be made answerable for the primal corruption of the ,gothic1 so neither is the ,roman philosophy to be made answerable for the primal corruption of ,christianity4 ,year after year1 as the history of the life of ,christ sank back into the depths of time1 and became obscured by the misty atmosphere of the history of the world1--as intermediate actions and incidents multiplied in number1 and countless changes in men's modes of life1 and tones of thought1 rendered it more difficult for them to imagine the facts of distant time1--it became daily1 almost hourly1 a greater effort for the faithful heart to apprehend the entire veracity and vitality of the story of its ,redeemer2 and more easy for the thoughtless and remiss to deceive themselves as to the true character of the belief they had been taught to profess4 ,and this must have been the case1 had the pastors of the ,church never failed in their watchfulness1 and the ,church itself never erred in its practice or doctrine4 ,but when every year that removed the truths of the ,gospel into deeper distance1 added to them also some false or foolish tradition2 when wilful distortion was added to natural obscurity1 and the dimness of memory was disguised by the fruitfulness of fiction2 when1 moreover1 the enormous temporal power granted to the clergy attracted into their ranks multitudes of men who1 but for such temptation1 would not have pretended to the ,christian name1 so that grievous wolves entered in among them1 not sparing the flock2 and when1 by the machinations of such men1 and the remissness of others1 the form and administrations of ,church doctrine and discipline had become little more than a means of aggrandizing the power of the priesthood1 it was impossible any longer for men of thoughtfulness or piety to remain in an unquestioning serenity of faith4 ,the ,church had become so mingled with the world that its witness could no longer be received2 and the professing members of it1 who were placed in circumstances such as to enable them to become aware of its corruptions1 and whom their interest or their simplicity did not bribe or beguile into silence1 gradually separated themselves into two vast multitudes of adverse energy1 one tending to ,reformation1 and the other to ,infidelity4 ,,xciv4 ,of these1 the last stood1 as it were1 apart1 to watch the course of the struggle between ,romanism and ,protestantism2 a struggle which1 however necessary1 was attended with infinite calamity to the ,church4 ,for1 in the first place1 the ,protestant movement was1 in reality1 not reformation but reanimation4 ,it poured new life into the ,church1 but it did not form or define her anew4 ,in some sort it rather broke down her hedges1 so that all they who passed by might pluck off her grapes4 ,the reformers speedily found that the enemy was never far behind the sower of good seed2 that an evil spirit might enter the ranks of reformation as well as those of resistance2 and that though the deadly blight might be checked amidst the wheat1 there was no hope of ever ridding the wheat itself from the tares4 ,new temptations were invented by ,satan wherewith to oppose the revived strength of ,christianity3 as the ,romanist1 confiding in his human teachers1 had ceased to try whether they were teachers sent from ,god1 so the ,protestant1 confiding in the teaching of the ,spirit1 believed every spirit1 and did not try the spirits whether they were of ,god4 ,and a thousand enthusiasms and heresies speedily obscured the faith and divided the force of the ,reformation4 ,,xcv4 ,but the main evils rose out of the antagonism of the two great parties2 primarily1 in the mere fact of the existence of an antagonism4 ,to the eyes of the unbeliever the ,church of ,christ1 for the first time since its foundation1 bore the aspect of a house divided against itself4 ,not that many forms of schism had not before arisen in it2 but either they had been obscure and silent1 hidden among the shadows of the ,alps and the marshes of the ,rhine2 or they had been outbreaks of visible and unmistakable error1 cast off by the ,church1 rootless1 and speedily withering away1 while1 with much that was erring and criminal1 she still retained within her the pillar and ground of the truth4 ,but here was at last a schism in which truth and authority were at issue4 ,the body that was cast off withered away no longer4 ,it stretched out its boughs to the sea and its branches to the river1 and it was the ancient trunk that gave signs of decrepitude4 ,on one side stood the reanimated faith1 in its right hand the book open1 and its left hand lifted up to heaven1 appealing for its proof to the ,word of the ,testimony and the power of the ,holy ,ghost4 ,on the other stood1 or seemed to stand1 all beloved custom and believed tradition2 all that for fifteen hundred years had been closest to the hearts of men1 or most precious for their help4 ,long-trusted legend2 long-reverenced power2 long-practised discipline2 faiths that had ruled the destiny1 and sealed the departure1 of souls that could not be told or numbered for multitude2 prayers1 that from the lips of the fathers to those of the children had distilled like sweet waterfalls1 sounding through the silence of ages1 breaking themselves into heavenly dew to return upon the pastures of the wilderness2 hopes1 that had set the face as a flint in the torture1 and the sword as a flame in the battle1 that had pointed the purposes and ministered the strength of life1 brightened the last glances and shaped the last syllables of death2 charities1 that had bound together the brotherhoods of the mountain and the desert1 and had woven chains of pitying or aspiring communion between this world and the unfathomable beneath and above2 and1 more than these1 the spirits of all the innumerable1 undoubting1 dead1 beckoning to the one way by which they had been content to follow the things that belonged unto their peace2--these all stood on the other side3 and the choice must have been a bitter one1 even at the best2 but it was rendered tenfold more bitter by the natural1 but most sinful animosity of the two divisions of the ,church against each other4 ,,xcvi4 ,on one side this animosity was1 of course1 inevitable4 ,the ,romanist party1 though still including many ,christian men1 necessarily included1 also1 all the worst of those who called themselves ,christians4 ,in the fact of its refusing correction1 it stood confessed as the ,church of the unholy2 and1 while it still counted among its adherents many of the simple and believing1--men unacquainted with the corruption of the body to which they belonged1 or incapable of accepting any form of doctrine but that which they had been taught from their youth1--it gathered together with them whatever was carnal and sensual in priesthood or in people1 all the lovers of power in the one1 and of ease in the other4 ,and the rage of these men was1 of course1 unlimited against those who either disputed their authority1 reprehended their manner of life1 or cast suspicion upon the popular methods of lulling the conscience in the lifetime1 or purchasing salvation on the death-bed4 ,,xcvii4 ,besides this1 the reassertion and defence of various tenets which before had been little more than floating errors in the popular mind1 but which1 definitely attacked by ,protestantism1 it became necessary to fasten down with a band of iron and brass1 gave a form at once more rigid1 and less rational1 to the whole body of ,romanist ,divinity4 ,multitudes of minds which in other ages might have brought honor and strength to the ,church1 preaching the more vital truths which it still retained1 were now occupied in pleading for arraigned falsehoods1 or magnifying disused frivolities2 and it can hardly be doubted by any candid observer1 that the nascent or latent errors which ,god pardoned in times of ignorance1 became unpardonable when they were formally defined and defended2 that fallacies which were forgiven to the enthusiasm of a multitude1 were avenged upon the stubbornness of a ,council2 that1 above all1 the great invention of the age1 which rendered ,god's word accessible to every man1 left all sins against its light incapable of excuse or expiation2 and that from the moment when ,rome set herself in direct opposition to the ,bible1 the judgment was pronounced upon her1 which made her the scorn and the prey of her own children1 and cast her down from the throne where she had magnified herself against heaven1 so low1 that at last the unimaginable scene of the ,bethlehem humiliation was mocked in the temples of ,christianity4 ,judea had seen her ,god laid in the manger of the beasts of burden2 it was for ,christendom to stable the beasts of burden by the altar of her ,god4 ,,xcviii4 ,nor1 on the other hand1 was the opposition of ,protestantism to the ,papacy less injurious to itself4 ,that opposition was1 for the most part1 intemperate1 undistinguishing1 and incautious4 ,it could indeed hardly be otherwise4 ,fresh bleeding from the sword of ,rome1 and still trembling at her anathema1 the reformed churches were little likely to remember any of her benefits1 or to regard any of her teaching4 ,forced by the ,romanist contumely into habits of irreverence1 by the ,romanist fallacies into habits of disbelief1 the self-trusting1 rashly-reasoning spirit gained ground among them daily4 ,sect branched out of sect1 presumption rose over presumption2 the miracles of the early ,church were denied and its martyrs forgotten1 though their power and palm were claimed by the members of every persecuted sect2 pride1 malice1 wrath1 love of change1 masked themselves under the thirst for truth1 and mingled with the just resentment of deception1 so that it became impossible even for the best and truest men to know the plague of their own hearts2 while avarice and impiety openly transformed reformation into robbery1 and reproof into sacrilege4 ,ignorance could as easily lead the foes of the ,church1 as lull her slumber2 men who would once have been the unquestioning recipients1 were now the shameless inventors of absurd or perilous superstitions2 they who were of the temper that walketh in darkness1 gained little by having discovered their guides to be blind2 and the simplicity of the faith1 ill understood and contumaciously alleged1 became an excuse for the rejection of the highest arts and most tried wisdom of mankind3 while the learned infidel1 standing aloof1 drew his own conclusions1 both from the rancor of the antagonists1 and from their errors2 believed each in all that he alleged against the other2 and smiled with superior humanity1 as he watched the winds of the ,alps drift the ashes of ,jerome1 and the dust of ,england drink the blood of ,king ,charles4 ,,xcix4 ,now all this evil was1 of course1 entirely independent of the renewal of the study of ,pagan writers4 ,but that renewal found the faith of ,christendom already weakened and divided2 and therefore it was itself productive of an effect tenfold greater than could have been apprehended from it at another time4 ,it acted first1 as before noticed1 in leading the attention of all men to words instead of things2 for it was discovered that the language of the middle ages had been corrupt1 and the primal object of every scholar became now to purify his style4 ,to this study of words1 that of forms being added1 both as of matters of the first importance1 half the intellect of the age was at once absorbed in the base sciences of grammar1 logic1 and rhetoric2 studies utterly unworthy of the serious labor of men1 and necessarily rendering those employed upon them incapable of high thoughts or noble emotion4 ,of the debasing tendency of philology1 no proof is needed beyond once reading a grammarian's notes on a great poet3 logic is unnecessary for men who can reason2 and about as useful to those who cannot1 as a machine for forcing one foot in due succession before the other would be to a man who could not walk3 while the study of rhetoric is exclusively one for men who desire to deceive or be deceived2 he who has the truth at his heart need never fear the want of persuasion on his tongue1 or1 if he fear it1 it is because the base rhetoric of dishonesty keeps the truth from being heard4 ,c4 ,the study of these sciences1 therefore1 naturally made men shallow and dishonest in general2 but it had a peculiarly fatal effect with respect to religion1 in the view which men took of the ,bible4 ,christ's teaching was discovered not to be rhetorical1 ,st4 ,paul's preaching not to be logical1 and the ,greek of the ,new ,testament not to be grammatical4 ,the stern truth1 the profound pathos1 the impatient period1 leaping from point to point and leaving the intervals for the hearer to fill1 the comparatively ,hebraized and unelaborate idiom1 had little in them of attraction for the students of phrase and syllogism2 and the chief knowledge of the age became one of the chief stumbling-blocks to its religion4 ,,ci4 ,but it was not the grammarian and logician alone who was thus retarded or perverted2 in them there had been small loss4 ,the men who could truly appreciate the higher excellences of the classics were carried away by a current of enthusiasm which withdrew them from every other study4 ,christianity was still professed as a matter of form1 but neither the ,bible nor the writings of the ,fathers had time left for their perusal1 still less heart left for their acceptance4 ,the human mind is not capable of more than a certain amount of admiration or reverence1 and that which was given to ,horace was withdrawn from ,david4 ,religion is1 of all subjects1 that which will least endure a second place in the heart or thoughts1 and a languid and occasional study of it was sure to lead to error or infidelity4 ,on the other hand1 what was heartily admired and unceasingly contemplated was soon brought nigh to being believed2 and the systems of ,pagan mythology began gradually to assume the places in the human mind from which the unwatched ,christianity was wasting4 ,men did not indeed openly sacrifice to ,jupiter1 or build silver shrines for ,diana1 but the ideas of ,paganism nevertheless became thoroughly vital and present with them at all times2 and it did not matter in the least1 as far as respected the power of true religion1 whether the ,pagan image was believed in or not1 so long as it entirely occupied the thoughts4 ,the scholar of the sixteenth century1 if he saw the lightning shining from the east unto the west1 thought forthwith of ,jupiter1 not of the coming of the ,son of ,man2 if he saw the moon walking in brightness1 he thought of ,diana1 not of the throne which was to be established for ever as a faithful witness in heaven2 and though his heart was but secretly enticed1 yet thus he denied the ,god that is above4#be ,and1 indeed1 this double creed1 of ,christianity confessed and ,paganism beloved1 was worse than ,paganism itself1 inasmuch as it refused effective and practical belief altogether4 ,it would have been better to have worshipped ,diana and ,jupiter at once1 than to have gone on through the whole of life naming one ,god1 imagining another1 and dreading none4 ,better1 a thousandfold1 to have been a ,pagan suckled in some creed outworn1 than to have stood by the great sea of ,eternity and seen no ,god walking on its waves1 no heavenly world on its horizon4 ,,cii4 ,this fatal result of an enthusiasm for classical literature was hastened and heightened by the misdirection of the powers of art4 ,the imagination of the age was actively set to realize these objects of ,pagan belief2 and all the most exalted faculties of man1 which1 up to that period1 had been employed in the service of ,faith1 were now transferred to the service of ,fiction4 ,the invention which had formerly been both sanctified and strengthened by laboring under the command of settled intention1 and on the ground of assured belief1 had now the reins laid upon its neck by passion1 and all ground of fact cut from beneath its feet2 and the imagination which formerly had helped men to apprehend the truth1 now tempted them to believe a falsehood4 ,the faculties themselves wasted away in their own treason2 one by one they fell in the potter's field2 and the ,raphael who seemed sent and inspired from heaven that he might paint ,apostles and ,prophets1 sank at once into powerlessness at the feet of ,apollo and the ,muses4 ,,ciii4 ,but this was not all4 ,the habit of using the greatest gifts of imagination upon fictitious subjects1 of course destroyed the honor and value of the same imagination used in the cause of truth4 ,exactly in the proportion in which ,jupiters and ,mercuries were embodied and believed1 in that proportion ,virgins and ,angels were disembodied and disbelieved4 ,the images summoned by art began gradually to assume one average value in the spectator's mind2 and incidents from the ,iliad and from the ,exodus to come within the same degrees of credibility4 ,and1 farther1 while the powers of the imagination were becoming daily more and more languid1 because unsupported by faith1 the manual skill and science of the artist were continually on the increase4 ,when these had reached a certain point1 they began to be the principal things considered in the picture1 and its story or scene to be thought of only as a theme for their manifestation4 ,observe the difference4 ,in old times1 men used their powers of painting to show the objects of faith2 in later times1 they used the objects of faith that they might show their powers of painting4 ,the distinction is enormous1 the difference incalculable as irreconcilable4 ,and thus1 the more skilful the artist1 the less his subject was regarded2 and the hearts of men hardened as their handling softened1 until they reached a point when sacred1 profane1 or sensual subjects were employed1 with absolute indifference1 for the display of color and execution2 and gradually the mind of ,europe congealed into that state of utter apathy1--inconceivable1 unless it had been witnessed1 and unpardonable1 unless by us1 who have been infected by it1--which permits us to place the ,madonna and the ,aphrodite side by side in our galleries1 and to pass1 with the same unmoved inquiry into the manner of their handling1 from a ,bacchanal to a ,nativity4 ,now all this evil1 observe1 would have been merely the necessary and natural operation of an enthusiasm for the classics1 and of a delight in the mere science of the artist1 on the most virtuous mind4 ,but this operation took place upon minds enervated by luxury1 and which were tempted1 at the very same period1 to forgetfulness or denial of all religious principle by their own basest instincts4 ,the faith which had been undermined by the genius of ,pagans1 was overthrown by the crimes of ,christians2 and the ruin which was begun by scholarship1 was completed by sensuality4 ,the characters of the heathen divinities were as suitable to the manners of the time as their forms were agreeable to its taste2 and ,paganism again became1 in effect1 the religion of ,europe4 ,that is to say1 the civilized world is at this moment1 collectively1 just as ,pagan as it was in the second century2 a small body of believers being now1 as they were then1 representative of the ,church of ,christ in the midst of the faithless3 but there is just this difference1 and this very fatal one1 between the second and nineteenth centuries1 that the ,pagans are nominally and fashionably ,christians1 and that there is every conceivable variety and shade of belief between the two2 so that not only is it most difficult theoretically to mark the point where hesitating trust and failing practice change into definite infidelity1 but it has become a point of politeness not to inquire too deeply into our neighbor's religious opinions2 and1 so that no one be offended by violent breach of external forms1 to waive any close examination into the tenets of faith4 ,the fact is1 we distrust each other and ourselves so much1 that we dare not press this matter2 we know that if1 on any occasion of general intercourse1 we turn to our next neighbor1 and put to him some searching or testing question1 we shall1 in nine cases out of ten1 discover him to be only a ,christian in his own way1 and as far as he thinks proper1 and that he doubts of many things which we ourselves do not believe strongly enough to hear doubted without danger4 ,what is in reality cowardice and faithlessness1 we call charity2 and consider it the part of benevolence sometimes to forgive men's evil practice for the sake of their accurate faith1 and sometimes to forgive their confessed heresy for the sake of their admirable practice4 ,and under this shelter of charity1 humility1 and faintheartedness1 the world1 unquestioned by others or by itself1 mingles with and overwhelms the small body of ,christians1 legislates for them1 moralizes for them1 reasons for them2 and1 though itself of course greatly and beneficently influenced by the association1 and held much in check by its pretence to ,christianity1 yet undermines1 in nearly the same degree1 the sincerity and practical power of ,christianity itself1 until at last1 in the very institutions of which the administration may be considered as the principal test of the genuineness of national religion1 those devoted to education1 the ,pagan system is completely triumphant2 and the entire body of the so-called ,christian world has established a system of instruction for its youth1 wherein neither the history of ,christ's ,church1 nor the language of ,god's law1 is considered a study of the smallest importance2 wherein1 of all subjects of human inquiry1 his own religion is the one in which a youth's ignorance is most easily forgiven2#bf and in which it is held a light matter that he should be daily guilty of lying1 or debauchery1 or of blasphemy1 so only that he write ,latin verses accurately1 and with speed4 ,i believe that in few years more we shall wake from all these errors in astonishment1 as from evil dreams2 having been preserved1 in the midst of their madness1 by those hidden roots of active and earnest ,christianity which ,god's grace has bound in the ,english nation with iron and brass4 ,but in the ,venetian1 those roots themselves had withered2 and1 from the palace of their ancient religion1 their pride cast them forth hopelessly to the pasture of the brute4 ,from pride to infidelity1 from infidelity to the unscrupulous and insatiable pursuit of pleasure1 and from this to irremediable degradation1 the transitions were swift1 like the falling of a star4 ,the great palaces of the haughtiest nobles of ,venice were stayed1 before they had risen far above their foundations1 by the blast of a penal poverty2 and the wild grass1 on the unfinished fragments of their mighty shafts1 waves at the tide-mark where the power of the godless people first heard the ,hitherto shalt thou come4 ,and the regeneration in which they had so vainly trusted1--the new birth and clear dawning1 as they thought it1 of all art1 all knowledge1 and all hope1--became to them as that dawn which ,ezekiel saw on the hills of ,israel3 ,behold the day2 behold1 it is come4 ,the rod hath blossomed1 pride hath budded1 violence is risen up into a rod of wickedness4 ,none of them shall remain1 nor of their multitude2 let not the buyer rejoice1 nor the seller mourn1 for wrath is upon all the multitude thereof4 ,,footnotes3 #h ,or1 more briefly1 science has to do with facts1 art with phenomena4 ,to science1 phenomena are of use only as they lead to facts2 and to art facts are of use only as they lead to phenomena4 ,i use the word art here with reference to the fine arts only1 for the lower arts of mechanical production ,i should reserve the word manufacture4 #i ,tintoret4 #aj ,st4 ,bernard4 #aa ,society always has a destructive influence upon an artist3 first by its sympathy with his meanest powers2 secondly1 by its chilling want of understanding of his greatest2 and1 thirdly1 by its vain occupation of his time and thoughts4 ,of course a painter of men must be among men2 but it ought to be as a watcher1 not as a companion4 #ab ,i intended in this place to have introduced some special consideration of the science of anatomy1 which ,i believe to have been in great part the cause of the decline of modern art2 but ,i have been anticipated by a writer better able to treat the subject4 ,i have only glanced at his book2 and there is something in the spirit of it which ,i do not like1 and some parts of it are assuredly wrong2 but1 respecting anatomy1 it seems to me to settle the question indisputably1 more especially as being written by a master of the science4 ,i quote two passages1 and must refer the reader to the sequel4 ,the scientific men of forty centuries have failed to describe so accurately1 so beautifully1 so artistically1 as ,homer did1 the organic elements constituting the emblems of youth and beauty1 and the waste and decay which these sustain by time and age4 ,all these ,homer understood better1 and has described more truthfully than the scientific men of forty centuries4444 ,before ,i approach this question1 permit me to make a few remarks on the pre-historic period of ,greece2 that era which seems to have produced nearly all the great men4 ,on looking attentively at the statues within my observation1 ,i cannot find the slightest foundation for the assertion that their sculptors must have dissected the human frame and been well acquainted with the human anatomy4 ,they1 like ,homer1 had discovered ,nature's secret1 and bestowed their whole attention on the exterior4 ,the exterior they read profoundly1 and studied deeply--the living exterior and the dead4 ,above all1 they avoided displaying the dead and dissected interior1 through the exterior4 ,they had discovered that the interior presents hideous shapes1 but not forms4 ,men during the philosophic era of ,greece saw all this1 each reading the antique to the best of his abilities4 ,the man of genius rediscovered the canon of the ancient masters1 and wrought on its principles4 ,the greater number1 as now1 unequal to this step1 merely imitated and copied those who preceded them4--,great ,artists and ,great ,anatomists4 ,by ,r4 ,knox1 ,m4,d4 ,london1 ,van ,voorst1 #aheb4 ,respecting the value of literary knowledge in general as regards art1 the reader will also do well to meditate on the following sentences from ,hallam's ,literature of ,europe2 remembering at the same time what ,i have above said1 that the root of all great art in ,europe is struck in the thirteenth century1 and that the great time is from #abej to #acej3 ,in ,germany the tenth century1 ,leibnitz declares1 was a golden age of learning compared with the thirteenth4 ,the writers of the thirteenth century display an incredible ignorance1 not only of pure idiom1 but of common grammatical rules4 ,the fourteenth century was not superior to the thirteenth in learning4444 ,we may justly praise ,richard of ,bury for his zeal in collecting books4 ,but his erudition appears crude1 his style indifferent1 and his thoughts superficial4 ,i doubt the superficialness of the thoughts3 at all events1 this is not a character of the time1 though it may be of the writer2 for this would affect art more even than literature4 #ac ,churton's ,early ,english ,church4 ,london1 #ahdj4 #ad ,quibus nulla macula inest qu non cernatur4 ,ita viri nobilitate prditi eam vitam peragant cui nulla nota possit inviri4 ,the first sentence is literally1 in which there is no spot that may not be seen4 ,but ,i imagine the writer meant it as ,i have put it in the text1 else his comparison does not hold4 #ae ,observe1 however1 that the magnitude spoken of here and in the following passages1 is the finished and polished magnitude sought for the sake of pomp3 not the rough magnitude sought for the sake of sublimity3 respecting which see the ,seven ,lamps1 chap4 iii4 #e1 #f1 and #h4 #af ,can ,grande died in #acbi3 we can hardly allow more than five years for the erection of his tomb4 #ag ,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,i4 #ah ,sansovino1 lib4 xiii4 #ai ,tentori1 vi4 #adb1 i4 #aeg4 #bj ,jacobus ,pisaurius ,paphi ,episcopus qui ,turcos bello1 se ipsum pace vincebat1 ex nobili inter ,venetas1 ad nobiliorem inter ,angelos familiam delatus1 nobilissimam in illa die ,coronam justo ,judice reddente1 hic situs expectat ,vixit annos ,platonicos4 ,obijt ,,mdxlvii4 ,,ix4 ,kal4 ,aprilis4 #ba ,isaiah xlvii4 #g1 #aj1 #aa1 #ae4 #bb ,compare ,seven ,lamps1 chap4 vii4 #c4 #bc ,see the farther remarks on ,inspiration1 in the fourth chapter4 #bd ,that is to say1 orders separated by such distinctions as the old ,greek ones3 considered with reference to the bearing power of the capital1 all orders may be referred to two1 as long ago stated2 just as trees may be referred to the two great classes1 monocotyledonous and dicotyledonous4 #be ,job xxi3 #bf-bh2 ,psalm lxxxix4 #cg4 #bf ,i shall not forget the impression made upon me at ,oxford1 when1 going up for my degree1 and mentioning to one of the authorities that ,i had not had time enough to read the ,epistles properly1 ,i was told1 that the ,epistles were separate sciences1 and ,i need not trouble myself about them4 ,the reader will find some farther notes on this subject in ,appendix #g1 ,modern ,education4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,grotesque ,,renaissance4 ,i4 ,in the close of the last chapter it was noted that the phases of transition in the moral temper of the falling ,venetians1 during their fall1 were from pride to infidelity1 and from infidelity to the unscrupulous pursuit of pleasure4 ,during the last years of the existence of the state1 the minds both of the nobility and the people seem to have been set simply upon the attainment of the means of self-indulgence4 ,there was not strength enough in them to be proud1 nor forethought enough to be ambitious4 ,one by one the possessions of the state were abandoned to its enemies2 one by one the channels of its trade were forsaken by its own languor1 or occupied and closed against it by its more energetic rivals2 and the time1 the resources1 and the thoughts of the nation were exclusively occupied in the invention of such fantastic and costly pleasures as might best amuse their apathy1 lull their remorse1 or disguise their ruin4 ,,ii4 ,the architecture raised at ,venice during this period is amongst the worst and basest ever built by the hands of men1 being especially distinguished by a spirit of brutal mockery and insolent jest1 which1 exhausting itself in deformed and monstrous sculpture1 can sometimes be hardly otherwise defined than as the perpetuation in stone of the ribaldries of drunkenness4 ,on such a period1 and on such work1 it is painful to dwell1 and ,i had not originally intended to do so2 but ,i found that the entire spirit of the ,renaissance could not be comprehended unless it was followed to its consummation2 and that there were many most interesting questions arising out of the study of this particular spirit of jesting1 with reference to which ,i have called it the ,grotesque ,renaissance4 ,for it is not this period alone which is distinguished by such a spirit4 ,there is jest--perpetual1 careless1 and not unfrequently obscene--in the most noble work of the ,gothic periods2 and it becomes1 therefore1 of the greatest possible importance to examine into the nature and essence of the ,grotesque itself1 and to ascertain in what respect it is that the jesting of art in its highest flight1 differs from its jesting in its utmost degradation4 ,,iii4 ,the place where we may best commence our inquiry is one renowned in the history of ,venice1 the space of ground before the ,church of ,santa ,maria ,formosa2 a spot which1 after the ,rialto and ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 ought to possess a peculiar interest in the mind of the traveller1 in consequence of its connexion with the most touching and true legend of the ,brides of ,venice4 ,that legend is related at length in every ,venetian history1 and1 finally1 has been told by the poet ,rogers1 in a way which renders it impossible for any one to tell it after him4 ,i have only1 therefore1 to remind the reader that the capture of the brides took place in the cathedral church1 ,st4 ,pietro di ,castello2 and that this of ,santa ,maria ,formosa is connected with the tale1 only because it was yearly visited with prayers by the ,venetian maidens1 on the anniversary of their ancestors' deliverance4 ,for that deliverance1 their thanks were to be rendered to the ,virgin2 and there was no church then dedicated to the ,virgin1 in ,venice1 except this4#bg ,neither of the cathedral church1 nor of this dedicated to ,st4 ,mary the ,beautiful1 is one stone left upon another4 ,but1 from that which has been raised on the site of the latter1 we may receive a most important lesson1 introductory to our immediate subject1 if first we glance back to the traditional history of the church which has been destroyed4 ,,iv4 ,no more honorable epithet than traditional can be attached to what is recorded concerning it1 yet ,i should grieve to lose the legend of its first erection4 ,the ,bishop of ,uderzo1 driven by the ,lombards from his ,bishopric1 as he was praying1 beheld in a vision the ,virgin ,mother1 who ordered him to found a church in her honor1 in the place where he should see a white cloud rest4 ,and when he went out1 the white cloud went before him2 and on the place where it rested he built a church1 and it was called the ,church of ,st4 ,mary the ,beautiful1 from the loveliness of the form in which she had appeared in the vision4#bh ,the first church stood only for about two centuries4 ,it was rebuilt in #hfd1 and enriched with various relics some fifty years later2 relics belonging principally to ,st4 ,nicodemus1 and much lamented when they and the church were together destroyed by fire in #aaje4 ,it was then rebuilt in magnifica forma1 much resembling1 according to ,corner1 the architecture of the chancel of ,st4 ,mark2#bi but the information which ,i find in various writers1 as to the period at which it was reduced to its present condition1 is both sparing and contradictory4 ,v4 ,thus1 by ,corner1 we are told that this church1 resembling ,st4 ,mark's1 remained untouched for more than four centuries1 until1 in #afhi1 it was thrown down by an earthquake1 and restored by the piety of a rich merchant1 ,turrin ,toroni1 in ornatissima forma2 and that1 for the greater beauty of the renewed church1 it had added to it two faades of marble4 ,with this information that of the ,padre dell' ,oratoria agrees1 only he gives the date of the earlier rebuilding of the church in #aage1 and ascribes it to an architect of the name of ,barbetta4 ,but ,quadri1 in his usually accurate little guide1 tells us that this ,barbetta rebuilt the church in the fourteenth century2 and that of the two faades1 so much admired by ,corner1 one is of the sixteenth century1 and its architect unknown2 and the rest of the church is of the seventeenth1 in the style of ,sansovino4 ,,vi4 ,there is no occasion to examine1 or endeavor to reconcile1 these conflicting accounts4 ,all that is necessary for the reader to know is1 that every vestige of the church in which the ceremony took place was destroyed at least as early as #afhi2 and that the ceremony itself1 having been abolished in the close of the fourteenth century1 is only to be conceived as taking place in that more ancient church1 resembling ,st4 ,mark's1 which1 even according to ,quadri1 existed until that period4 ,i would1 therefore1 endeavor to fix the reader's mind1 for a moment1 on the contrast between the former and latter aspect of this plot of ground2 the former1 when it had its ,byzantine church1 and its yearly procession of the ,doge and the ,brides2 and the latter1 when it has its ,renaissance church in the style of ,sansovino1 and its yearly honoring is done away4 ,,vii4 ,and1 first1 let us consider for a little the significance and nobleness of that early custom of the ,venetians1 which brought about the attack and the rescue of the year #idc3 that there should be but one marriage day for the nobles of the whole nation1#cj so that all might rejoice together2 and that the sympathy might be full1 not only of the families who that year beheld the alliance of their children1 and prayed for them in one crowd1 weeping before the altar1 but of all the families of the state1 who saw1 in the day which brought happiness to others1 the anniversary of their own4 ,imagine the strong bond of brotherhood thus sanctified among them1 and consider also the effect on the minds of the youth of the state2 the greater deliberation and openness necessarily given to the contemplation of marriage1 to which all the people were solemnly to bear testimony2 the more lofty and unselfish tone which it would give to all their thoughts4 ,it was the exact contrary of stolen marriage4 ,it was marriage to which ,god and man were taken for witnesses1 and every eye was invoked for its glance1 and every tongue for its prayers4#ca ,,viii4 ,later historians have delighted themselves in dwelling on the pageantry of the marriage day itself1 but ,i do not find that they have authority for the splendor of their descriptions4 ,i cannot find a word in the older ,chronicles about the jewels or dress of the brides1 and ,i believe the ceremony to have been more quiet and homely than is usually supposed4 ,the only sentence which gives color to the usual accounts of it is one of ,sansovino's1 in which he says that the magnificent dress of the brides in his day was founded on ancient custom4#cb ,however this may have been1 the circumstances of the rite were otherwise very simple4 ,each maiden brought her dowry with her in a small cassetta1 or chest2 they went first to the cathedral1 and waited for the youths1 who having come1 they heard mass together1 and the bishop preached to them and blessed them3 and so each bridegroom took his bride and her dowry and bore her home4 ,,ix4 ,it seems that the alarm given by the attack of the pirates put an end to the custom of fixing one day for all marriages3 but the main objects of the institution were still attained by the perfect publicity given to the marriages of all the noble families2 the bridegroom standing in the ,court of the ,ducal ,palace to receive congratulations on his betrothal1 and the whole body of the nobility attending the nuptials1 and rejoicing1 as at some personal good fortune2 since1 by the constitution of the state1 they are for ever incorporated together1 as if of one and the same family4#cc ,but the festival of the #bnd of ,february1 after the year #idc1 seems to have been observed only in memory of the deliverance of the brides1 and no longer set apart for public nuptials4 ,x4 ,there is much difficulty in reconciling the various accounts1 or distinguishing the inaccurate ones1 of the manner of keeping this memorable festival4 ,i shall first give ,sansovino's1 which is the popular one1 and then note the points of importance in the counter-statements4 ,sansovino says that the success of the pursuit of the pirates was owing to the ready help and hard fighting of the men of the district of ,sta4 ,maria ,formosa1 for the most part trunkmakers2 and that they1 having been presented after the victory to the ,doge and the ,senate1 were told to ask some favor for their reward4 ,the good men then said that they desired the ,prince1 with his wife and the ,signory1 to visit every year the church of their district1 on the day of its feast4 ,and the ,prince asking them1 ',suppose it should rain8' they answered1 ',we will give you hats to cover you2 and if you are thirsty1 we will give you to drink4' ,whence is it that the ,vicar1 in the name of the people1 presents to the ,doge1 on his visit1 two flasks of malvoisie#cd and two oranges2 and presents to him two gilded hats1 bearing the arms of the ,pope1 of the ,prince1 and of the ,vicar4 ,and thus was instituted the ,feast of the ,maries1 which was called noble and famous because the people from all round came together to behold it4 ,and it was celebrated in this manner34444 ,the account which follows is somewhat prolix2 but its substance is1 briefly1 that twelve maidens were elected1 two for each division of the city2 and that it was decided by lot which contrade1 or quarters of the town1 should provide them with dresses4 ,this was done at enormous expense1 one contrada contending with another1 and even the jewels of the treasury of ,st4 ,mark being lent for the occasion to the ,maries1 as the twelve damsels were called4 ,they1 being thus dressed with gold1 and silver1 and jewels1 went in their galley to ,st4 ,mark's for the ,doge1 who joined them with the ,signory1 and went first to ,san ,pietro di ,castello to hear mass on ,st4 ,mark's day1 the #cast of ,january1 and to ,santa ,maria ,formosa on the #bnd of ,february1 the intermediate day being spent in passing in procession through the streets of the city2 and sometimes there arose quarrels about the places they should pass through1 for every one wanted them to pass by his house4 ,,xi4 ,nearly the same account is given by ,corner1 who1 however1 does not say anything about the hats or the malvoisie4 ,these1 however1 we find again in the ,matricola de' ,casseleri1 which1 of course1 sets the services of the trunkmakers and the privileges obtained by them in the most brilliant light4 ,the quaintness of the old ,venetian is hardly to be rendered into ,english4 ,and you must know that the said trunkmakers were the men who were the cause of such victory1 and of taking the galley1 and of cutting all the ,triestines to pieces1 because1 at that time1 they were valiant men and well in order4 ,the which victory was on the #bnd ,february1 on the day of the ,madonna of candles4 ,and at the request and entreaties of the said trunkmakers1 it was decreed that the ,doge1 every year1 as long as ,venice shall endure1 should go on the eve of the said feast to vespers in the said church1 with the ,signory4 ,and be it noted1 that the vicar is obliged to give to the ,doge two flasks of malvoisie1 with two oranges besides4 ,and so it is observed1 and will be observed always4 ,the reader must observe the continual confusion between ,st4 ,mark's day the #cast of ,january1 and ,candlemas the #bnd of ,february4 ,the fact appears to be1 that the marriage day in the old republic was ,st4 ,mark's day1 and the recovery of the brides was the same day at evening2 so that1 as we are told by ,sansovino1 the commemorative festival began on that day1 but it was continued to the day of the ,purification1 that especial thanks might be rendered to the ,virgin2 and1 the visit to ,sta4 ,maria ,formosa being the most important ceremony of the whole festival1 the old chroniclers1 and even ,sansovino1 got confused1 and asserted the victory itself to have taken place on the day appointed for that pilgrimage4 ,,xii4 ,i doubt not that the reader who is acquainted with the beautiful lines of ,rogers is as much grieved as ,i am at the interference of the casket-makers with the achievement which the poet ascribes to the bridegrooms alone2 an interference quite as inopportune as that of old ,le ,balafr with the victory of his nephew1 in the unsatisfactory conclusion of ,quentin ,durward4 ,i am afraid ,i cannot get the casket-makers quite out of the way2 but it may gratify some of my readers to know that a chronicle of the year #acgh1 quoted by ,galliciolli1 denies the agency of the people of ,sta4 ,maria ,formosa altogether1 in these terms3 ,some say that the people of ,sta4 ,m4 ,formosa were those who recovered the spoil 7predra2 ,i may notice1 in passing1 that most of the old chroniclers appear to consider the recovery of the caskets rather more a subject of congratulation than that of the brides71 and that1 for their reward1 they asked the ,doge and ,signory to visit ,sta4 ,m4 ,formosa2 but this is false4 ,the going to ,sta4 ,m4 ,formosa was because the thing had succeeded on that day1 and because this was then the only church in ,venice in honor of the ,virgin4 ,but here is again the mistake about the day itself2 and besides if we get rid altogether of the trunkmakers1 how are we to account for the ceremony of the oranges and hats1 of which the accounts seem authentic8 ,if1 however1 the reader likes to substitute carpenters or house-builders for casket-makers1 he may do so with great reason 7vide ,galliciolli1 lib4 ii4 #ageh72 but ,i fear that one or the other body of tradesmen must be allowed to have had no small share in the honor of the victory4 ,,xiii4 ,but whatever doubt attaches to the particular circumstances of its origin1 there is none respecting the splendor of the festival itself1 as it was celebrated for four centuries afterwards4 ,we find that each contrada spent from #hjj to #ajjj zecchins in the dress of the ,maries entrusted to it2 but ,i cannot find among how many contrade the twelve ,maries were divided2 it is also to be supposed that most of the accounts given refer to the later periods of the celebration of the festival4 ,in the beginning of the eleventh century1 the good ,doge ,pietro ,orseolo ,,ii4 left in his will the third of his entire fortune per la ,festa della ,marie2 and1 in the fourteenth century1 so many people came from the rest of ,italy to see it1 that special police regulations were made for it1 and the ,council of ,ten were twice summoned before it took place4#ce ,the expense lavished upon it seems to have increased till the year #acgi1 when all the resources of the republic were required for the terrible war of ,chiozza1 and all festivity was for that time put an end to4 ,the issue of the war left the ,venetians with neither the power nor the disposition to restore the festival on its ancient scale1 and they seem to have been ashamed to exhibit it in reduced splendor4 ,it was entirely abolished4 ,,xiv4 ,as if to do away even with its memory1 every feature of the surrounding scene which was associated with that festival has been in succeeding ages destroyed4 ,with one solitary exception1#cf there is not a house left in the whole ,piazza of ,santa ,maria ,formosa from whose windows the festa of the ,maries has ever been seen3 of the church in which they worshipped1 not a stone is left1 even the form of the ground and direction of the neighboring canals are changed2 and there is now but one landmark to guide the steps of the traveller to the place where the white cloud rested1 and the shrine was built to ,st4 ,mary the ,beautiful4 ,yet the spot is still worth his pilgrimage1 for he may receive a lesson upon it1 though a painful one4 ,let him first fill his mind with the fair images of the ancient festival1 and then seek that landmark the tower of the modern church1 built upon the place where the daughters of ,venice knelt yearly with her noblest lords2 and let him look at the head that is carved on the base of the tower1#cg still dedicated to ,st4 ,mary the ,beautiful4 ,,xv4 ,a head1--huge1 inhuman1 and monstrous1--leering in bestial degradation1 too foul to be either pictured or described1 or to be beheld for more than an instant3 yet let it be endured for that instant2 for in that head is embodied the type of the evil spirit to which ,venice was abandoned in the fourth period of her decline2 and it is well that we should see and feel the full horror of it on this spot1 and know what pestilence it was that came and breathed upon her beauty1 until it melted away like the white cloud from the ancient fields of ,santa ,maria ,formosa4 ,,xvi4 ,this head is one of many hundreds which disgrace the latest buildings of the city1 all more or less agreeing in their expression of sneering mockery1 in most cases enhanced by thrusting out the tongue4 ,most of them occur upon the bridges1 which were among the very last works undertaken by the republic1 several1 for instance1 upon the ,bridge of ,sighs2 and they are evidences of a delight in the contemplation of bestial vice1 and the expression of low sarcasm1 which is1 ,i believe1 the most hopeless state into which the human mind can fall4 ,this spirit of idiotic mockery is1 as ,i have said1 the most striking characteristic of the last period of the ,renaissance1 which1 in consequence of the character thus imparted to its sculpture1 ,i have called grotesque2 but it must be our immediate task1 and it will be a most interesting one1 to distinguish between this base grotesqueness1 and that magnificent condition of fantastic imagination1 which was above noticed as one of the chief elements of the ,northern ,gothic mind4 ,nor is this a question of interesting speculation merely3 for the distinction between the true and false grotesque is one which the present tendencies of the ,english mind have rendered it practically important to ascertain2 and that in a degree which1 until he has made some progress in the consideration of the subject1 the reader will hardly anticipate4 ,,xvii4 ,but1 first1 ,i have to note one peculiarity in the late architecture of ,venice1 which will materially assist us in understanding the true nature of the spirit which is to be the subject of our inquiry2 and this peculiarity1 singularly enough1 is first exemplified in the very faade of ,santa ,maria ,formosa which is flanked by the grotesque head to which our attention has just been directed4 ,this faade1 whose architect is unknown1 consists of a pediment1 sustained on four ,corinthian pilasters1 and is1 ,i believe1 the earliest in ,venice which appears entirely destitute of every religious symbol1 sculpture1 or inscription2 unless the ,cardinal's hat upon the shield in the centre of the impediment be considered a religious symbol4 ,the entire faade is nothing else than a monument to the ,admiral ,vincenzo ,cappello4 ,two tablets1 one between each pair of flanking pillars1 record his acts and honors2 and1 on the corresponding spaces upon the base of the church1 are two circular trophies1 composed of halberts1 arrows1 flags1 tridents1 helmets1 and lances3 sculptures which are just as valueless in a military as in an ecclesiastical point of view2 for1 being all copied from the forms of ,roman arms and armor1 they cannot even be referred to for information respecting the costume of the period4 ,over the door1 as the chief ornament of the faade1 exactly in the spot which in the barbarous ,st4 ,mark's is occupied by the figure of ,christ1 is the statue of ,vincenzo ,cappello1 in ,roman armor4 ,he died in #aedb2 and we have1 therefore1 the latter part of the sixteenth century fixed as the period when1 in ,venice1 churches were first built to the glory of man1 instead of the glory of ,god4 ,,xviii4 ,throughout the whole of ,scripture history1 nothing is more remarkable than the close connection of punishment with the sin of vain-glory4 ,every other sin is occasionally permitted to remain1 for lengthened periods1 without definite chastisement2 but the forgetfulness of ,god1 and the claim of honor by man1 as belonging to himself1 are visited at once1 whether in ,hezekiah1 ,nebuchadnezzar1 or ,herod1 with the most tremendous punishment4 ,we have already seen1 that the first reason for the fall of ,venice was the manifestation of such a spirit2 and it is most singular to observe the definiteness with which it is here marked1--as if so appointed1 that it might be impossible for future ages to miss the lesson4 ,for1 in the long inscriptions#ch which record the acts of ,vincenzo ,cappello1 it might1 at least1 have been anticipated that some expressions would occur indicative of remaining pretence to religious feeling1 or formal acknowledgement of ,divine power4 ,but there are none whatever4 ,the name of ,god does not once occur2 that of ,st4 ,mark is found only in the statement that ,cappello was a procurator of the church3 there is no word touching either on the faith or hope of the deceased2 and the only sentence which alludes to supernatural powers at all1 alludes to them under the heathen name of fates1 in its explanation of what the ,admiral ,cappello would have accomplished1 nisi fata ,christianis adversa vetuissent4 ,,xix4 ,having taken sufficient note of all the baseness of mind which these facts indicate in the people1 we shall not be surprised to find immediate signs of dotage in the conception of their architecture4 ,the churches raised throughout this period are so grossly debased1 that even the ,italian critics of the present day1 who are partially awakened to the true state of art in ,italy1 though blind1 as yet1 to its true cause1 exhaust their terms of reproach upon these last efforts of the ,renaissance builders4 ,the two churches of ,san ,mois and ,santa ,maria ,zobenigo1 which are among the most remarkable in ,venice for their manifestation of insolent atheism1 are characterized by ,lazari1 the one as culmine d'ogni follia architettonica1 the other as orrido ammasso di pietra d',istria1 with added expressions of contempt1 as just as it is unmitigated4 ,,xx4 ,now both these churches1 which ,i should like the reader to visit in succession1 if possible1 after that of ,sta4 ,maria ,formosa1 agree with that church1 and with each other1 in being totally destitute of religious symbols1 and entirely dedicated to the honor of two ,venetian families4 ,in ,san ,mois1 a bust of ,vincenzo ,fini is set on a tall narrow pyramid1 above the central door1 with this marvellous inscription3 ,,omne ,,fastigivm ,,virtvte ,,implet ,,vincentivs ,,fini4 ,it is very difficult to translate this2 for fastigium1 besides its general sense1 has a particular one in architecture1 and refers to the part of the building occupied by the bust2 but the main meaning of it is that ,vincenzo ,fini fills all height with his virtue4 ,the inscription goes on into farther praise1 but this example is enough4 ,over the two lateral doors are two other laudatory inscriptions of younger members of the ,fini family1 the dates of death of the three heroes being #affj1 #afhe1 and #agbf1 marking thus the period of consummate degradation4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,iii4 ,,noble ,,and ,,ignoble ,,grotesque4 ,,xxi4 ,in like manner1 the ,church of ,santa ,maria ,zobenigo is entirely dedicated to the ,barbaro family2 the only religious symbols with which it is invested being statues of angels blowing brazen trumpets1 intended to express the spreading of the fame of the ,barbaro family in heaven4 ,at the top of the church is ,venice crowned1 between ,justice and ,temperance1 ,justice holding a pair of grocer's scales1 of iron1 swinging in the wind4 ,there is a two-necked stone eagle 7the ,barbaro crest71 with a copper crown1 in the centre of the pediment4 ,a huge statue of a ,barbaro in armor1 with a fantastic head-dress1 over the central door2 and four ,barbaros in niches1 two on each side of it1 strutting statues1 in the common stage postures of the period1--,jo4 ,maria ,barbaro1 sapiens ordinum2 ,marinus ,barbaro1 ,senator 7reading a speech in a ,ciceronian attitude72 ,franc4 ,barbaro1 legatus in classe 7in armor1 with high-heeled boots1 and looking resolutely fierce72 and ,carolus ,barbaro1 sapiens ordinum3 the decorations of the faade being completed by two trophies1 consisting of drums1 trumpets1 flags and cannon2 and six plans1 sculptured in relief1 of the towns of ,zara1 ,candia1 ,padua1 ,rome1 ,corfu1 and ,spalatro4 ,,xxii4 ,when the traveller has sufficiently considered the meaning of this faade1 he ought to visit the ,church of ,st4 ,eustachio1 remarkable for the dramatic effect of the group of sculpture on its faade1 and then the ,church of the ,ospedaletto 7see ,index1 under head ,ospedaletto72 noticing1 on his way1 the heads on the foundations of the ,palazzo ,corner della ,regina1 and the ,palazzo ,pesaro1 and any other heads carved on the modern bridges1 closing with those on the ,bridge of ,sighs4 ,he will then have obtained a perfect idea of the style and feeling of the ,grotesque ,renaissance4 ,i cannot pollute this volume by any illustration of its worst forms1 but the head turned to the front1 on the right-hand in the opposite ,plate1 will give the general reader an idea of its most graceful and refined developments4 ,the figure set beside it1 on the left1 is a piece of noble grotesque1 from fourteenth century ,gothic2 and it must be our present task to ascertain the nature of the difference which exists between the two1 by an accurate inquiry into the true essence of the grotesque spirit itself4 ,,xxiii4 ,first1 then1 it seems to me that the grotesque is1 in almost all cases1 composed of two elements1 one ludicrous1 the other fearful2 that1 as one or other of these elements prevails1 the grotesque falls into two branches1 sportive grotesque and terrible grotesque2 but that we cannot legitimately consider it under these two aspects1 because there are hardly any examples which do not in some degree combine both elements2 there are few grotesques so utterly playful as to be overcast with no shade of fearfulness1 and few so fearful as absolutely to exclude all ideas of jest4 ,but although we cannot separate the grotesque itself into two branches1 we may easily examine separately the two conditions of mind which it seems to combine2 and consider successively what are the kinds of jest1 and what the kinds of fearfulness1 which may be legitimately expressed in the various walks of art1 and how their expressions actually occur in the ,gothic and ,renaissance schools4 ,first1 then1 what are the conditions of playfulness which we may fitly express in noble art1 or which 7for this is the same thing7 are consistent with nobleness in humanity8 ,in other words1 what is the proper function of play1 with respect not to youth merely1 but to all mankind8 ,,xxiv4 ,it is a much more serious question than may be at first supposed2 for a healthy manner of play is necessary in order to a healthy manner of work3 and because the choice of our recreation is1 in most cases1 left to ourselves1 while the nature of our work is generally fixed by necessity or authority1 it may be well doubted whether more distressful consequences may not have resulted from mistaken choice in play than from mistaken direction in labor4 ,,xxv4 ,observe1 however1 that we are only concerned1 here1 with that kind of play which causes laughter or implies recreation1 not with that which consists in the excitement of the energies whether of body or mind4 ,muscular exertion is1 indeed1 in youth1 one of the conditions of recreation2 but neither the violent bodily labor which children of all ages agree to call play1 nor the grave excitement of the mental faculties in games of skill or chance1 are in anywise connected with the state of feeling we have here to investigate1 namely1 that sportiveness which man possesses in common with many inferior creatures1 but to which his higher faculties give nobler expression in the various manifestations of wit1 humor1 and fancy4 ,with respect to the manner in which this instinct of playfulness is indulged or repressed1 mankind are broadly distinguishable into four classes3 the men who play wisely2 who play necessarily2 who play inordinately2 and who play not at all4 ,,xxvi4 ,first3 ,those who play wisely4 ,it is evident that the idea of any kind of play can only be associated with the idea of an imperfect1 childish1 and fatigable nature4 ,as far as men can raise that nature1 so that it shall no longer be interested by trifles or exhausted by toils1 they raise it above play2 he whose heart is at once fixed upon heaven1 and open to the earth1 so as to apprehend the importance of heavenly doctrines1 and the compass of human sorrow1 will have little disposition for jest2 and exactly in proportion to the breadth and depth of his character and intellect1 will be1 in general1 the incapability of surprise1 or exuberant and sudden emotion1 which must render play impossible4 ,it is1 however1 evidently not intended that many men should even reach1 far less pass their lives in1 that solemn state of thoughtfulness1 which brings them into the nearest brotherhood with their ,divine ,master2 and the highest and healthiest state which is competent to ordinary humanity appears to be that which1 accepting the necessity of recreation1 and yielding to the impulses of natural delight springing out of health and innocence1 does1 indeed1 condescend often to playfulness1 but never without such deep love of ,god1 of truth1 and of humanity1 as shall make even its slightest words reverent1 its idlest fancies profitable1 and its keenest satire indulgent4 ,wordsworth and ,plato furnish us with1 perhaps1 the finest and highest examples of this playfulness3 in the one case1 unmixed with satire1 the perfectly simple effusion of that spirit--in ,which gives to all the self-same bent1 ,whose life is wise1 and innocent2 ,plato1 and1 by the by1 in a very wise book of our own times1 not unworthy of being named in such companionship1 ,friends in ,council1 mingled with an exquisitely tender and loving satire4 ,,xxvii4 ,secondly3 ,the men who play necessarily4 ,that highest species of playfulness1 which we have just been considering1 is evidently the condition of a mind1 not only highly cultivated1 but so habitually trained to intellectual labor that it can bring a considerable force of accurate thought into its moments even of recreation4 ,this is not possible1 unless so much repose of mind and heart are enjoyed1 even at the periods of greatest exertion1 that the rest required by the system is diffused over the whole life4 ,to the majority of mankind1 such a state is evidently unattainable4 ,they must1 perforce1 pass a large part of their lives in employments both irksome and toilsome1 demanding an expenditure of energy which exhausts the system1 and yet consuming that energy upon subjects incapable of interesting the nobler faculties4 ,when such employments are intermitted1 those noble instincts1 fancy1 imagination1 and curiosity1 are all hungry for the food which the labor of the day has denied to them1 while yet the weariness of the body1 in a great degree1 forbids their application to any serious subject4 ,they therefore exert themselves without any determined purpose1 and under no vigorous restraint1 but gather1 as best they may1 such various nourishment1 and put themselves to such fantastic exercise1 as may soonest indemnify them for their past imprisonment1 and prepare them to endure their recurrence4 ,this sketching of the mental limbs as their fetters fall away1--this leaping and dancing of the heart and intellect1 when they are restored to the fresh air of heaven1 yet half paralyzed by their captivity1 and unable to turn themselves to any earnest purpose1--,i call necessary play4 ,it is impossible to exaggerate its importance1 whether in polity1 or in art4 ,,xxviii4 ,thirdly3 ,the men who play inordinately4 ,the most perfect state of society which1 consistently with due understanding of man's nature1 it may be permitted us to conceive1 would be one in which the whole human race were divided1 more or less distinctly1 into workers and thinkers2 that is to say1 into the two classes1 who only play wisely1 or play necessarily4 ,but the number and the toil of the working class are enormously increased1 probably more than doubled1 by the vices of the men who neither play wisely nor necessarily1 but are enabled by circumstances1 and permitted by their want of principle1 to make amusement the object of their existence4 ,there is not any moment of the lives of such men which is not injurious to others2 both because they leave the work undone which was appointed for them1 and because they necessarily think wrongly1 whenever it becomes compulsory upon them to think at all4 ,the greater portion of the misery of this world arises from the false opinions of men whose idleness has physically incapacitated them from forming true ones4 ,every duty which we omit obscures some truth which we should have known2 and the guilt of a life spent in the pursuit of pleasure is twofold1 partly consisting in the perversion of action1 and partly in the dissemination of falsehood4 ,,xxix4 ,there is1 however1 a less criminal1 though hardly less dangerous condition of mind2 which1 though not failing in its more urgent duties1 fails in the finer conscientiousness which regulates the degree1 and directs the choice1 of amusement1 at those times when amusement is allowable4 ,the most frequent error in this respect is the want of reverence in approaching subjects of importance or sacredness1 and of caution in the expression of thoughts which may encourage like irreverence in others3 and these faults are apt to gain upon the mind until it becomes habitually more sensible to what is ludicrous and accidental1 than to what is grave and essential1 in any subject that is brought before it2 or even1 at last1 desires to perceive or to know nothing but what may end in jest4 ,very generally minds of this character are active and able2 and many of them are so far conscientious1 that they believe their jesting forwards their work4 ,but it is difficult to calculate the harm they do1 by destroying the reverence which is our best guide into all truth2 for weakness and evil are easily visible1 but greatness and goodness are often latent2 and we do infinite mischief by exposing weakness to eyes which cannot comprehend greatness4 ,this error1 however1 is more connected with abuses of the satirical than of the playful instinct2 and ,i shall have more to say of it presently4 ,,xxx4 ,lastly3 ,the men who do not play at all3 those who are so dull or so morose as to be incapable of inventing or enjoying jest1 and in whom care1 guilt1 or pride represses all healthy exhilaration of the fancy2 or else men utterly oppressed with labor1 and driven too hard by the necessities of the world to be capable of any species of happy relaxation4 ,,xxxi4 ,we have now to consider the way in which the presence or absence of joyfulness1 in these several classes1 is expressed in art4 #a4 ,wise play4 ,the first and noblest class hardly ever speak through art1 except seriously2 they feel its nobleness too profoundly1 and value the time necessary for its production too highly1 to employ it in the rendering of trivial thoughts4 ,the playful fancy of a moment may innocently be expressed by the passing word2 but he can hardly have learned the preciousness of life1 who passes days in the elaboration of a jest4 ,and1 as to what regards the delineation of human character1 the nature of all noble art is to epitomize and embrace so much at once1 that its subject can never be altogether ludicrous2 it must possess all the solemnities of the whole1 not the brightness of the partial1 truth4 ,for all truth that makes us smile is partial4 ,the novelist amuses us by his relation of a particular incident2 but the painter cannot set any one of his characters before us without giving some glimpse of its whole career4 ,that of which the historian informs us in successive pages1 it is the task of the painter to inform us of at once1 writing upon the countenance not merely the expression of the moment1 but the history of the life3 and the history of a life can never be a jest4 ,whatever part1 therefore1 of the sportive energy of these men of the highest class would be expressed in verbal wit or humor finds small utterance through their art1 and will assuredly be confined1 if it occur there at all1 to scattered and trivial incidents4 ,but so far as their minds can recreate themselves by the imagination of strange1 yet not laughable1 forms1 which1 either in costume1 in landscape1 or in any other accessaries1 may be combined with those necessary for their more earnest purposes1 we find them delighting in such inventions2 and a species of grotesqueness thence arising in all their work1 which is indeed one of its most valuable characteristics1 but which is so intimately connected with the sublime or terrible form of the grotesque1 that it will be better to notice it under that head4 ,,xxxii4 #b4 ,necessary play4 ,i have dwelt much in a former portion of this work1 on the justice and desirableness of employing the minds of inferior workmen1 and of the lower orders in general1 in the production of objects of art of one kind or another4 ,so far as men of this class are compelled to hard manual labor for their daily bread1 so far forth their artistical efforts must be rough and ignorant1 and their artistical perceptions comparatively dull4 ,now it is not possible1 with blunt perceptions and rude hands1 to produce works which shall be pleasing by their beauty2 but it is perfectly possible to produce such as shall be interesting by their character or amusing by their satire4 ,for one hard-working man who possesses the finer instincts which decide on perfection of lines and harmonies of color1 twenty possess dry humor or quaint fancy2 not because these faculties were originally given to the human race1 or to any section of it1 in greater degree than the sense of beauty1 but because these are exercised in our daily intercourse with each other1 and developed by the interest which we take in the affairs of life1 while the others are not4 ,and because1 therefore1 a certain degree of success will probably attend the effort to express this humor or fancy1 while comparative failure will assuredly result from an ignorant struggle to reach the forms of solemn beauty1 the working-man1 who turns his attention partially to art1 will probably1 and wisely1 choose to do that which he can do best1 and indulge the pride of an effective satire rather than subject himself to assured mortification in the pursuit of beauty2 and this the more1 because we have seen that his application to art is to be playful and recreative1 and it is not in recreation that the conditions of perfection can be fulfilled4 ,,xxxiii4 ,now all the forms of art which result from the comparatively recreative exertion of minds more or less blunted or encumbered by other cares and toils1 the art which we may call generally art of the wayside1 as opposed to that which is the business of men's lives1 is1 in the best sense of the word1 ,grotesque4 ,and it is noble or inferior1 first1 according to the tone of the minds which have produced it1 and in proportion to their knowledge1 wit1 love of truth1 and kindness2 secondly1 according to the degree of strength they have been able to give forth2 but yet1 however much we may find in it needing to be forgiven1 always delightful so long as it is the work of good and ordinarily intelligent men4 ,and its delightfulness ought mainly to consist in those very imperfections which mark it for work done in times of rest4 ,it is not its own merit so much as the enjoyment of him who produced it1 which is to be the source of the spectator's pleasure2 it is to the strength of his sympathy1 not to the accuracy of his criticism1 that it makes appeal2 and no man can indeed be a lover of what is best in the higher walks of art1 who has not feeling and charity enough to rejoice with the rude sportiveness of hearts that have escaped out of prison1 and to be thankful for the flowers which men have laid their burdens down to sow by the wayside4 ,,xxxiv4 ,and consider what a vast amount of human work this right understanding of its meaning will make fruitful and admirable to us1 which otherwise we could only have passed by with contempt4 ,there is very little architecture in the world which is1 in the full sense of the words1 good and noble4 ,a few pieces of ,italian ,gothic and ,romanesque1 a few scattered fragments of ,gothic cathedrals1 and perhaps two or three of ,greek temples1 are all that we possess approaching to an ideal of perfection4 ,all the rest--,egyptian1 ,norman1 ,arabian1 and most ,gothic1 and1 which is very noticeable1 for the most part all the strongest and mightiest--depend for their power on some developement of the grotesque spirit2 but much more the inferior domestic architecture of the middle ages1 and what similar conditions remain to this day in countries from which the life of art has not yet been banished by its laws4 ,the fantastic gables1 built up in scroll-work and steps1 of the ,flemish street2 the pinnacled roofs set with their small humorist double windows1 as if with so many ears and eyes1 of ,northern ,france2 the blackened timbers1 crossed and carved into every conceivable waywardness of imagination1 of ,normandy and old ,england2 the rude hewing of the pine timbers of the ,swiss cottage2 the projecting turrets and bracketed oriels of the ,german street2 these1 and a thousand other forms1 not in themselves reaching any high degree of excellence1 are yet admirable1 and most precious1 as the fruits of a rejoicing energy in uncultivated minds4 ,it is easier to take away the energy1 than to add the cultivation2 and the only effect of the better knowledge which civilized nations now possess1 has been1 as we have seen in a former chapter1 to forbid their being happy1 without enabling them to be great4 ,,xxxv4 ,it is very necessary1 however1 with respect to this provincial or rustic architecture1 that we should carefully distinguish its truly grotesque from its picturesque elements4 ,in the ,seven ,lamps ,i defined the picturesque to be parasitical sublimity1 or sublimity belonging to the external or accidental characters of a thing1 not to the thing itself4 ,for instance1 when a highland cottage roof is covered with fragments of shale instead of slates1 it becomes picturesque1 because the irregularity and rude fractures of the rocks1 and their grey and gloomy color1 give to it something of the savageness1 and much of the general aspect1 of the slope of a mountain side4 ,but as a mere cottage roof1 it cannot be sublime1 and whatever sublimity it derives from the wildness or sternness which the mountains have given it in its covering1 is1 so far forth1 parasitical4 ,the mountain itself would have been grand1 which is much more than picturesque2 but the cottage cannot be grand as such1 and the parasitical grandeur which it may possess by accidental qualities1 is the character for which men have long agreed to use the inaccurate word ,picturesque4 ,,xxxvi4 ,on the other hand1 beauty cannot be parasitical4 ,there is nothing so small or so contemptible1 but it may be beautiful in its own right4 ,the cottage may be beautiful1 and the smallest moss that grows on its roof1 and the minutest fibre of that moss which the microscope can raise into visible form1 and all of them in their own right1 not less than the mountains and the sky2 so that we use no peculiar term to express their beauty1 however diminutive1 but only when the sublime element enters1 without sufficient worthiness in the nature of the thing to which it is attached4 ,,xxxvii4 ,now this picturesque element1 which is always given1 if by nothing else1 merely by ruggedness1 adds usually very largely to the pleasurableness of grotesque work1 especially to that of its inferior kinds2 but it is not for this reason to be confounded with the grotesqueness itself4 ,the knots and rents of the timbers1 the irregular lying of the shingles on the roofs1 the vigorous light and shadow1 the fractures and weather-stains of the old stones1 which were so deeply loved and so admirably rendered by our lost ,prout1 are the picturesque elements of the architecture3 the grotesque ones are those which are not produced by the working of nature and of time1 but exclusively by the fancy of man2 and1 as also for the most part by his indolent and uncultivated fancy1 they are always1 in some degree1 wanting in grandeur1 unless the picturesque element be united with them4 ,,xxxviii4 #c4 ,inordinate play4 ,the reader will have some difficulty1 ,i fear1 in keeping clearly in his mind the various divisions of our subject2 but1 when he has once read the chapter through1 he will see their places and coherence4 ,we have next to consider the expression throughout of the minds of men who indulge themselves in unnecessary play4 ,it is evident that a large number of these men will be more refined and more highly educated than those who only play necessarily2 the power of pleasure-seeking implies1 in general1 fortunate circumstances of life4 ,it is evident also that their play will not be so hearty1 so simple1 or so joyful2 and this deficiency of brightness will affect it in proportion to its unnecessary and unlawful continuance1 until at last it becomes a restless and dissatisfied indulgence in excitement1 or a painful delving after exhausted springs of pleasure4 ,the art through which this temper is expressed will1 in all probability1 be refined and sensual1--therefore1 also1 assuredly feeble2 and because1 in the failure of the joyful energy of the mind1 there will fail1 also1 its perceptions and its sympathies1 it will be entirely deficient in expression of character1 and acuteness of thought1 but will be peculiarly restless1 manifesting its desire for excitement in idle changes of subject and purpose4 ,incapable of true imagination1 it will seek to supply its place by exaggerations1 incoherencies1 and monstrosities2 and the form of the grotesque to which it gives rise will be an incongruous chain of hackneyed graces1 idly thrown together1--prettinesses or sublimities1 not of its own invention1 associated in forms which will be absurd without being fantastic1 and monstrous without being terrible4 ,and because1 in the continual pursuit of pleasure1 men lose both cheerfulness and charity1 there will be small hilarity1 but much malice1 in this grotesque2 yet a weak malice1 incapable of expressing its own bitterness1 not having grasp enough of truth to become forcible1 and exhausting itself in impotent or disgusting caricature4 ,,xxxix4 ,of course1 there are infinite ranks and kinds of this grotesque1 according to the natural power of the minds which originate it1 and to the degree in which they have lost themselves4 ,its highest condition is that which first developed itself among the enervated ,romans1 and which was brought to the highest perfection of which it was capable1 by ,raphael1 in the arabesques of the ,vatican4 ,it may be generally described as an elaborate and luscious form of nonsense4 ,its lower conditions are found in the common upholstery and decorations which1 over the whole of civilized ,europe1 have sprung from this poisonous root2 an artistical pottage1 composed of nymphs1 cupids1 and satyrs1 with shreddings of heads and paws of meek wild beasts1 and nondescript vegetables4 ,and the lowest of all are those which have not even graceful models to recommend them1 but arise out of the corruption of the higher schools1 mingled with clownish or bestial satire1 as is the case in the latter ,renaissance of ,venice1 which we were above examining4 ,it is almost impossible to believe the depth to which the human mind can be debased in following this species of grotesque4 ,in a recent ,italian garden1 the favorite ornaments frequently consist of stucco images1 representing1 in dwarfish caricature1 the most disgusting types of manhood and womanhood which can be found amidst the dissipation of the modern drawingroom2 yet without either veracity or humor1 and dependent1 for whatever interest they possess1 upon simple grossness of expression and absurdity of costume4 ,grossness1 of one kind or another1 is1 indeed1 an unfailing characteristic of the style2 either latent1 as in the refined sensuality of the more graceful arabesques1 or1 in the worst examples1 manifested in every species of obscene conception and abominable detail4 ,in the head1 described in the opening of this chapter1 at ,santa ,maria ,formosa1 the teeth are represented as decayed4 ,,xl4 #d4 ,the minds of the fourth class of men who do not play at all1 are little likely to find expression in any trivial form of art1 except in bitterness of mockery2 and this character at once stamps the work in which it appears1 as belonging to the class of terrible1 rather than of playful1 grotesque4 ,we have1 therefore1 now to examine the state of mind which gave rise to this second and more interesting branch of imaginative work4 ,,xli4 ,two great and principal passions are evidently appointed by the ,deity to rule the life of man2 namely1 the love of ,god1 and the fear of sin1 and of its companion--,death4 ,how many motives we have for ,love1 how much there is in the universe to kindle our admiration and to claim our gratitude1 there are1 happily1 multitudes among us who both feel and teach4 ,but it has not1 ,i think1 been sufficiently considered how evident1 throughout the system of creation1 is the purpose of ,god that we should often be affected by ,fear2 not the sudden1 selfish1 and contemptible fear of immediate danger1 but the fear which arises out of the contemplation of great powers in destructive operation1 and generally from the perception of the presence of death4 ,nothing appears to me more remarkable than the array of scenic magnificence by which the imagination is appalled1 in myriads of instances1 when the actual danger is comparatively small2 so that the utmost possible impression of awe shall be produced upon the minds of all1 though direct suffering is inflicted upon few4 ,consider1 for instance1 the moral effect of a single thunder-storm4 ,perhaps two or three persons may be struck dead within the space of a hundred square miles2 and their deaths1 unaccompanied by the scenery of the storm1 would produce little more than a momentary sadness in the busy hearts of living men4 ,but the preparation for the ,judgment by all that mighty gathering of clouds2 by the questioning of the forest leaves1 in their terrified stillness1 which way the winds shall go forth2 by the murmuring to each other1 deep in the distance1 of the destroying angels before they draw forth their swords of fire2 by the march of the funeral darkness in the midst of the noon-day1 and the rattling of the dome of heaven beneath the chariot-wheels of death2--on how many minds do not these produce an impression almost as great as the actual witnessing of the fatal issue6 and how strangely are the expressions of the threatening elements fitted to the apprehension of the human soul6 ,the lurid color1 the long1 irregular1 convulsive sound1 the ghastly shapes of flaming and heaving cloud1 are all as true and faithful in their appeal to our instinct of danger1 as the moaning or wailing of the human voice itself is to our instinct of pity4 ,it is not a reasonable calculating terror which they awake in us2 it is no matter that we count distance by seconds1 and measure probability by averages4 ,that shadow of the thunder-cloud will still do its work upon our hearts1 and we shall watch its passing away as if we stood upon the threshing-floor of ,araunah4 ,,xlii4 ,and this is equally the case with respect to all the other destructive phenomena of the universe4 ,from the mightiest of them to the gentlest1 from the earthquake to the summer shower1 it will be found that they are attended by certain aspects of threatening1 which strike terror into the hearts of multitudes more numerous a thousandfold than those who actually suffer from the ministries of judgment2 and that1 besides the fearfulness of these immediately dangerous phenomena1 there is an occult and subtle horror belonging to many aspects of the creation around us1 calculated often to fill us with serious thought1 even in our times of quietness and peace4 ,i understand not the most dangerous1 because most attractive form of modern infidelity1 which1 pretending to exalt the beneficence of the ,deity1 degrades it into a reckless infinitude of mercy1 and blind obliteration of the work of sin2 and which does this chiefly by dwelling on the manifold appearances of ,god's kindness on the face of creation4 ,such kindness is indeed everywhere and always visible2 but not alone4 ,wrath and threatening are invariably mingled with the love2 and in the utmost solitudes of nature1 the existence of ,hell seems to me as legibly declared by a thousand spiritual utterances1 as that of ,heaven4 ,it is well for us to dwell with thankfulness on the unfolding of the flower1 and the falling of the dew1 and the sleep of the green fields in the sunshine2 but the blasted trunk1 the barren rock1 the moaning of the bleak winds1 the roar of the black1 perilous1 merciless whirlpools of the mountain streams1 the solemn solitudes of moors and seas1 the continual fading of all beauty into darkness1 and of all strength into dust1 have these no language for us8 ,we may seek to escape their teaching by reasonings touching the good which is wrought out of all evil2 but it is vain sophistry4 ,the good succeeds to the evil as day succeeds the night1 but so also the evil to the good4 ,gerizim and ,ebal1 birth and death1 light and darkness1 heaven and hell1 divide the existence of man1 and his ,futurity4#ci ,,xliii4 ,and because the thoughts of the choice we have to make between these two1 ought to rule us continually1 not so much in our own actions 7for these should1 for the most part1 be governed by settled habit and principle7 as in our manner of regarding the lives of other men1 and our own responsibilities with respect to them2 therefore1 it seems to me that the healthiest state into which the human mind can be brought is that which is capable of the greatest love1 and the greatest awe3 and this we are taught even in our times of rest2 for when our minds are rightly in tone1 the merely pleasurable excitement which they seek with most avidity is that which rises out of the contemplation of beauty or of terribleness4 ,we thirst for both1 and1 according to the height and tone of our feeling1 desire to see them in noble or inferior forms4 ,thus there is a ,divine beauty1 and a terribleness or sublimity coequal with it in rank1 which are the subjects of the highest art2 and there is an inferior or ornamental beauty1 and an inferior terribleness coequal with it in rank1 which are the subjects of grotesque art4 ,and the state of mind in which the terrible form of the grotesque is developed1 is that which in some irregular manner1 dwells upon certain conditions of terribleness1 into the complete depth of which it does not enter for the time4 ,,xliv4 ,now the things which are the proper subjects of human fear are twofold2 those which have the power of ,death1 and those which have the nature of ,sin4 ,of which there are many ranks1 greater or less in power and vice1 from the evil angels themselves down to the serpent which is their type1 and which though of a low and contemptible class1 appears to unite the deathful and sinful natures in the most clearly visible and intelligible form2 for there is nothing else which we know1 of so small strength and occupying so unimportant a place in the economy of creation1 which yet is so mortal and so malignant4 ,it is1 then1 on these two classes of objects that the mind fixes for its excitement1 in that mood which gives rise to the terrible grotesque2 and its subject will be found always to unite some expression of vice and danger1 but regarded in a peculiar temper2 sometimes 7,a7 of predetermined or involuntary apathy1 sometimes 7,b7 of mockery1 sometimes 7,c7 of diseased and ungoverned imaginativeness4 ,,xlv4 ,for observe1 the difficulty which1 as ,i above stated1 exists in distinguishing the playful from the terrible grotesque arises out of this cause2 that the mind1 under certain phases of excitement1 plays with terror1 and summons images which1 if it were in another temper1 would be awful1 but of which1 either in weariness or in irony1 it refrains for the time to acknowledge the true terribleness4 ,and the mode in which this refusal takes place distinguishes the noble from the ignoble grotesque4 ,for the master of the noble grotesque knows the depth of all at which he seems to mock1 and would feel it at another time1 or feels it in a certain undercurrent of thought even while he jests with it2 but the workman of the ignoble grotesque can feel and understand nothing1 and mocks at all things with the laughter of the idiot and the cretin4 ,to work out this distinction completely is the chief difficulty in our present inquiry2 and1 in order to do so1 let us consider the above-named three conditions of mind in succession1 with relation to objects of terror4 ,,xlvi4 7,a74 ,involuntary or predetermined apathy4 ,we saw above that the grotesque was produced1 chiefly in subordinate or ornamental art1 by rude1 and in some degree uneducated men1 and in their times of rest4 ,at such times1 and in such subordinate work1 it is impossible that they should represent any solemn or terrible subject with a full and serious entrance into its feeling4 ,it is not in the languor of a leisure hour that a man will set his whole soul to conceive the means of representing some important truth1 nor to the projecting angle of a timber bracket that he would trust its representation1 if conceived4 ,and yet1 in this languor1 and in this trivial work1 he must find some expression of the serious part of his soul1 of what there is within him capable of awe1 as well as of love4 ,the more noble the man is1 the more impossible it will be for him to confine his thoughts to mere loveliness1 and that of a low order4 ,were his powers and his time unlimited1 so that1 like ,fr ,angelico1 he could paint the ,seraphim1 in that order of beauty he could find contentment1 bringing down heaven to earth4 ,but by the conditions of his being1 by his hard-worked life1 by his feeble powers of execution1 by the meanness of his employment and the languor of his heart1 he is bound down to earth4 ,it is the world's work that he is doing1 and world's work is not to be done without fear4 ,and whatever there is of deep and eternal consciousness within him1 thrilling his mind with the sense of the presence of sin and death around him1 must be expressed in that slight work1 and feeble way1 come of it what will4 ,he cannot forget it1 among all that he sees of beautiful in nature2 he may not bury himself among the leaves of the violet on the rocks1 and of the lily in the glen1 and twine out of them garlands of perpetual gladness4 ,he sees more in the earth than these1--misery and wrath1 and discordance1 and danger1 and all the work of the dragon and his angels2 this he sees with too deep feeling ever to forget4 ,and though when he returns to his idle work1--it may be to gild the letters upon the page1 or to carve the timbers of the chamber1 or the stones of the pinnacle1--he cannot give his strength of thought any more to the woe or to the danger1 there is a shadow of them still present with him3 and as the bright colors mingle beneath his touch1 and the fair leaves and flowers grow at his bidding1 strange horrors and phantasms rise by their side2 grisly beasts and venomous serpents1 and spectral fiends and nameless inconsistencies of ghastly life1 rising out of things most beautiful1 and fading back into them again1 as the harm and the horror of life do out of its happiness4 ,he has seen these things2 he wars with them daily2 he cannot but give them their part in his work1 though in a state of comparative apathy to them at the time4 ,he is but carving and gilding1 and must not turn aside to weep2 but he knows that hell is burning on1 for all that1 and the smoke of it withers his oak-leaves4 ,,xlvii4 ,now1 the feelings which give rise to the false or ignoble grotesque1 are exactly the reverse of these4 ,in the true grotesque1 a man of naturally strong feeling is accidentally or resolutely apathetic2 in the false grotesque1 a man naturally apathetic is forcing himself into temporary excitement4 ,the horror which is expressed by the one1 comes upon him whether he will or not2 that which is expressed by the other1 is sought out by him1 and elaborated by his art4 ,and therefore1 also1 because the fear of the one is true1 and of true things1 however fantastic its expression may be1 there will be reality in it1 and force4 ,it is not a manufactured terribleness1 whose author1 when he had finished it1 knew not if it would terrify any one else or not3 but it is a terribleness taken from the life2 a spectre which the workman indeed saw1 and which1 as it appalled him1 will appal us also4 ,but the other workman never felt any ,divine fear2 he never shuddered when he heard the cry from the burning towers of the earth1 ,venga ,medusa2 s lo farem di smalto4 ,he is stone already1 and needs no gentle hand laid upon his eyes to save him4 ,,xlviii4 ,i do not mean what ,i say in this place to apply to the creations of the imagination4 ,it is not as the creating but as the seeing man1 that we are here contemplating the master of the true grotesque4 ,it is because the dreadfulness of the universe around him weighs upon his heart1 that his work is wild2 and therefore through the whole of it we shall find the evidence of deep insight into nature4 ,his beasts and birds1 however monstrous1 will have profound relations with the true4 ,he may be an ignorant man1 and little acquainted with the laws of nature2 he is certainly a busy man1 and has not much time to watch nature2 but he never saw a serpent cross his path1 nor a bird flit across the sky1 nor a lizard bask upon a stone1 without learning so much of the sublimity and inner nature of each as will not suffer him thenceforth to conceive them coldly4 ,he may not be able to carve plumes or scales well2 but his creatures will bite and fly1 for all that4 ,the ignoble workman is the very reverse of this4 ,he never felt1 never looked at nature2 and if he endeavor to imitate the work of the other1 all his touches will be made at random1 and all his extravagances will be ineffective2 he may knit brows1 and twist lips1 and lengthen beaks1 and sharpen teeth1 but it will be all in vain4 ,he may make his creatures disgusting1 but never fearful4 ,,xlix4 ,there is1 however1 often another cause of difference than this4 ,the true grotesque being the expression of the repose or play of a serious mind1 there is a false grotesque opposed to it1 which is the result of the full exertion of a frivolous one4 ,there is much grotesque which is wrought out with exquisite care and pains1 and as much labor given to it as if it were of the noblest subject2 so that the workman is evidently no longer apathetic1 and has no excuse for unconnectedness of thought1 or sudden unreasonable fear4 ,if he awakens horror now1 it ought to be in some truly sublime form4 ,his strength is in his work2 and he must not give way to sudden humor1 and fits of erratic fancy4 ,if he does so1 it must be because his mind is naturally frivolous1 or is for the time degraded into the deliberate pursuit of frivolity4 ,and herein lies the real distinction between the base grotesque of ,raphael and the ,renaissance1 above alluded to1 and the true ,gothic grotesque4 ,those grotesques or arabesques of the ,vatican1 and other such work1 which have become the patterns of ornamentation in modern times1 are the fruit of great minds degraded to base objects4 ,the care1 skill1 and science1 applied to the distribution of the leaves1 and the drawing of the figures1 are intense1 admirable1 and accurate2 therefore1 they ought to have produced a grand and serious work1 not a tissue of nonsense4 ,if we can draw the human head perfectly1 and are masters of its expression and its beauty1 we have no business to cut it off1 and hang it up by the hair at the end of a garland4 ,if we can draw the human body in the perfection of its grace and movement1 we have no business to take away its limbs1 and terminate it with a bunch of leaves4 ,or rather our doing so will imply that there is something wrong with us2 that1 if we can consent to use our best powers for such base and vain trifling1 there must be something wanting in the powers themselves2 and that1 however skilful we may be1 or however learned1 we are wanting both in the earnestness which can apprehend a noble truth1 and in the thoughtfulness which can feel a noble fear4 ,no ,divine terror will ever be found in the work of the man who wastes a colossal strength in elaborating toys2 for the first lesson which that terror is sent to teach us1 is the value of the human soul1 and the shortness of mortal time4 ,l4 ,and are we never1 then1 it will be asked1 to possess a refined or perfect ornamentation8 ,must all decoration be the work of the ignorant and the rude8 ,not so2 but exactly in proportion as the ignorance and rudeness diminish1 must the ornamentation become rational1 and the grotesqueness disappear4 ,the noblest lessons may be taught in ornamentation1 the most solemn truths compressed into it4 ,the ,book of ,genesis1 in all the fulness of its incidents1 in all the depth of its meaning1 is bound within the leaf-borders of the gates of ,ghiberti4 ,but ,raphael's arabesque is mere elaborate idleness4 ,it has neither meaning nor heart in it2 it is an unnatural and monstrous abortion4 ,,li4 ,now1 this passing of the grotesque into higher art1 as the mind of the workman becomes informed with better knowledge1 and capable of more earnest exertion1 takes place in two ways4 ,either1 as his power increases1 he devotes himself more and more to the beauty which he now feels himself able to express1 and so the grotesqueness expands1 and softens into the beautiful1 as in the above-named instance of the gates of ,ghiberti2 or else1 if the mind of the workman be naturally inclined to gloomy contemplation1 the imperfection or apathy of his work rises into nobler terribleness1 until we reach the point of the grotesque of ,albert ,durer1 where1 every now and then1 the playfulness or apathy of the painter passes into perfect sublime4 ,take the ,adam and ,eve1 for instance4 ,when he gave ,adam a bough to hold1 with a parrot on it1 and a tablet hung to it1 with ,albertus ,durer ,noricus faciebat1 #aejd1 thereupon1 his mind was not in ,paradise4 ,he was half in play1 half apathetic with respect to his subject1 thinking how to do his work well1 as a wise master-graver1 and how to receive his just reward of fame4 ,but he rose into the true sublime in the head of ,adam1 and in the profound truthfulness of every creature that fills the forest4 ,so again in that magnificent coat of arms1 with the lady and the satyr1 as he cast the fluttering drapery hither and thither around the helmet1 and wove the delicate crown upon the woman's forehead1 he was in a kind of play2 but there is none in the dreadful skull upon the shield4 ,and in the ,knight and ,death1 and in the dragons of the illustrations to the ,apocalypse1 there is neither play nor apathy2 but their grotesque is of the ghastly kind which best illustrates the nature of death and sin4 ,and this leads us to the consideration of the second state of mind out of which the noble grotesque is developed2 that is to say1 the temper of mockery4 ,,lii4 7,b74 ,mockery1 or ,satire4 ,in the former part of this chapter1 when ,i spoke of the kinds of art which were produced in the recreation of the lower orders1 ,i only spoke of forms of ornament1 not of the expression of satire or humor4 ,but it seems probable1 that nothing is so refreshing to the vulgar mind as some exercise of this faculty1 more especially on the failings of their superiors2 and that1 wherever the lower orders are allowed to express themselves freely1 we shall find humor1 more or less caustic1 becoming a principal feature in their work4 ,the classical and ,renaissance manufacturers of modern times having silenced the independent language of the operative1 his humor and satire pass away in the word-wit which has of late become the especial study of the group of authors headed by ,charles ,dickens2 all this power was formerly thrown into noble art1 and became permanently expressed in the sculptures of the cathedral4 ,it was never thought that there was anything discordant or improper in such a position3 for the builders evidently felt very deeply a truth of which1 in modern times1 we are less cognizant2 that folly and sin are1 to a certain extent1 synonymous1 and that it would be well for mankind in general1 if all could be made to feel that wickedness is as contemptible as it is hateful4 ,so that the vices were permitted to be represented under the most ridiculous forms1 and all the coarsest wit of the workman to be exhausted in completing the degradation of the creatures supposed to be subjected to them4 ,,liii4 ,nor were even the supernatural powers of evil exempt from this species of satire4 ,for with whatever hatred or horror the evil angels were regarded1 it was one of the conditions of ,christianity that they should also be looked upon as vanquished2 and this not merely in their great combat with the ,king of ,saints1 but in daily and hourly combats with the weakest of ,his servants4 ,in proportion to the narrowness of the powers of abstract conception in the workman1 the nobleness of the idea of spiritual nature diminished1 and the traditions of the encounters of men with fiends in daily temptations were imagined with less terrific circumstances1 until the agencies which in such warfare were almost always represented as vanquished with disgrace1 became1 at last1 as much the objects of contempt as of terror4 ,the superstitions which represented the devil as assuming various contemptible forms of disguises in order to accomplish his purposes aided this gradual degradation of conception1 and directed the study of the workman to the most strange and ugly conditions of animal form1 until at last1 even in the most serious subjects1 the fiends are oftener ludicrous than terrible4 ,nor1 indeed1 is this altogether avoidable1 for it is not possible to express intense wickedness without some condition of degradation4 ,malice1 subtlety1 and pride1 in their extreme1 cannot be written upon noble forms2 and ,i am aware of no effort to represent the ,satanic mind in the angelic form1 which has succeeded in painting4 ,milton succeeds only because he separately describes the movements of the mind1 and therefore leaves himself at liberty to make the form heroic2 but that form is never distinct enough to be painted4 ,dante1 who will not leave even external forms obscure1 degrades them before he can feel them to be demoniacal2 so also ,john ,bunyan3 both of them1 ,i think1 having firmer faith than ,milton's in their own creations1 and deeper insight into the nature of sin4 ,milton makes his fiends too noble1 and misses the foulness1 inconstancy1 and fury of wickedness4 ,his ,satan possesses some virtues1 not the less virtues for being applied to evil purpose4 ,courage1 resolution1 patience1 deliberation in council1 this latter being eminently a wise and holy character1 as opposed to the ,insania of excessive sin3 and all this1 if not a shallow and false1 is a smooth and artistical1 conception4 ,on the other hand1 ,i have always felt that there was a peculiar grandeur in the indescribable1 ungovernable fury of ,dante's fiends1 ever shortening its own powers1 and disappointing its own purposes2 the deaf1 blind1 speechless1 unspeakable rage1 fierce as the lightning1 but erring from its mark or turning senselessly against itself1 and still further debased by foulness of form and action4 ,something is indeed to be allowed for the rude feelings of the time1 but ,i believe all such men as ,dante are sent into the world at the time when they can do their work best2 and that1 it being appointed for him to give to mankind the most vigorous realization possible both of ,hell and ,heaven1 he was born both in the country and at the time which furnished the most stern opposition of ,horror and ,beauty1 and permitted it to be written in the clearest terms4 ,and1 therefore1 though there are passages in the ,inferno which it would be impossible for any poet now to write1 ,i look upon it as all the more perfect for them4 ,for there can be no question but that one characteristic of excessive vice is indecency1 a general baseness in its thoughts and acts concerning the body1#dj and that the full portraiture of it cannot be given without marking1 and that in the strongest lines1 this tendency to corporeal degradation2 which1 in the time of ,dante1 could be done frankly1 but cannot now4 ,and1 therefore1 ,i think the twenty-first and twenty-second books of the ,inferno the most perfect portraitures of fiendish nature which we possess2 and at the same time1 in their mingling of the extreme of horror 7for it seems to me that the silent swiftness of the first demon1 con l'ali aperte e sovra i pie leggiero1 cannot be surpassed in dreadfulness7 with ludicrous actions and images1 they present the most perfect instances with which ,i am acquainted of the terrible grotesque4 ,but the whole of the ,inferno is full of this grotesque1 as well as the ,farie ,queen2 and these two poems1 together with the works of ,albert ,durer1 will enable the reader to study it in its noblest forms1 without reference to ,gothic cathedrals4 ,,liv4 ,now1 just as there are base and noble conditions of the apathetic grotesque1 so also are there of this satirical grotesque4 ,the condition which might be mistaken for it is that above described as resulting from the malice of men given to pleasure1 and in which the grossness and foulness are in the workman as much as in his subject1 so that he chooses to represent vice and disease rather than virtue and beauty1 having his chief delight in contemplating them2 though he still mocks at them with such dull wit as may be in him1 because1 as ,young has said most truly1 ',tis not in folly not to scorn a fool4 ,,lv4 ,now it is easy to distinguish this grotesque from its noble counterpart1 by merely observing whether any forms of beauty or dignity are mingled with it or not2 for1 of course1 the noble grotesque is only employed by its master for good purposes1 and to contrast with beauty3 but the base workman cannot conceive anything but what is base2 and there will be no loveliness in any part of his work1 or1 at the best1 a loveliness measured by line and rule1 and dependent on legal shapes of feature4 ,but1 without resorting to this test1 and merely by examining the ugly grotesque itself1 it will be found that1 if it belongs to the base school1 there will be1 first1 no ,horror in it2 secondly1 no ,nature in it2 and1 thirdly1 no ,mercy in it4 ,,lvi4 ,i say1 first1 no ,horror4 ,for the base soul has no fear of sin1 and no hatred of it3 and1 however it may strive to make its work terrible1 there will be no genuineness in the fear2 the utmost it can do will be to make its work disgusting4 ,secondly1 there will be no ,nature in it4 ,it appears to be one of the ends proposed by ,providence in the appointment of the forms of the brute creation1 that the various vices to which mankind are liable should be severally expressed in them so distinctly and clearly as that men could not but understand the lesson2 while yet these conditions of vice might1 in the inferior animal1 be observed without the disgust and hatred which the same vices would excite1 if seen in men1 and might be associated with features of interest which would otherwise attract and reward contemplation4 ,thus1 ferocity1 cunning1 sloth1 discontent1 gluttony1 uncleanness1 and cruelty are seen1 each in its extreme1 in various animals2 and are so vigorously expressed1 that when men desire to indicate the same vices in connexion with human forms1 they can do it no better than by borrowing here and there the features of animals4 ,and when the workman is thus led to the contemplation of the animal kingdom1 finding therein the expressions of vice which he needs1 associated with power1 and nobleness1 and freedom from disease1 if his mind be of right tone he becomes interested in this new study2 and all noble grotesque is1 therefore1 full of the most admirable rendering of animal character4 ,but the ignoble workman is capable of no interest of this kind2 and1 being too dull to appreciate1 and too idle to execute1 the subtle and wonderful lines on which the expression of the lower animal depends1 he contents himself with vulgar exaggeration1 and leaves his work as false as it is monstrous1 a mass of blunt malice and obscene ignorance4 ,,lvii4 ,lastly1 there will be no ,mercy in it4 ,wherever the satire of the noble grotesque fixes upon human nature1 it does so with much sorrow mingled amidst its indignation3 in its highest forms there is an infinite tenderness1 like that of the fool in ,lear2 and even in its more heedless or bitter sarcasm1 it never loses sight altogether of the better nature of what it attacks1 nor refuses to acknowledge its redeeming or pardonable features4 ,but the ignoble grotesque has no pity3 it rejoices in iniquity1 and exists only to slander4 ,,lviii4 ,i have not space to follow out the various forms of transition which exist between the two extremes of great and base in the satirical grotesque4 ,the reader must always remember1 that1 although there is an infinite distance between the best and worst1 in this kind the interval is filled by endless conditions more or less inclining to the evil or the good2 impurity and malice stealing gradually into the nobler forms1 and invention and wit elevating the lower1 according to the countless minglings of the elements of the human soul4 ,,lix4 7,c74 ,ungovernableness of the imagination4 ,the reader is always to keep in mind that if the objects of horror1 in which the terrible grotesque finds its materials1 were contemplated in their true light1 and with the entire energy of the soul1 they would cease to be grotesque1 and become altogether sublime2 and that therefore it is some shortening of the power1 or the will1 of contemplation1 and some consequent distortion of the terrible image in which the grotesqueness consists4 ,now this distortion takes place1 it was above asserted1 in three ways3 either through apathy1 satire1 or ungovernableness of imagination4 ,it is this last cause of the grotesque which we have finally to consider2 namely1 the error and wildness of the mental impressions1 caused by fear operating upon strong powers of imagination1 or by the failure of the human faculties in the endeavor to grasp the highest truths4 ,,lx4 ,the grotesque which comes to all men in a disturbed dream is the most intelligible example of this kind1 but also the most ignoble2 the imagination1 in this instance1 being entirely deprived of all aid from reason1 and incapable of self-government4 ,i believe1 however1 that the noblest forms of imaginative power are also in some sort ungovernable1 and have in them something of the character of dreams2 so that the vision1 of whatever kind1 comes uncalled1 and will not submit itself to the seer1 but conquers him1 and forces him to speak as a prophet1 having no power over his words or thoughts4#da ,only1 if the whole man be trained perfectly1 and his mind calm1 consistent and powerful1 the vision which comes to him is seen as in a perfect mirror1 serenely1 and in consistence with the rational powers2 but if the mind be imperfect and ill trained1 the vision is seen as in a broken mirror1 with strange distortions and discrepancies1 all the passions of the heart breathing upon it in cross ripples1 till hardly a trace of it remains unbroken4 ,so that1 strictly speaking1 the imagination is never governed2 it is always the ruling and ,divine power3 and the rest of the man is to it only as an instrument which it sounds1 or a tablet on which it writes2 clearly and sublimely if the wax be smooth and the strings true1 grotesquely and wildly if they are stained and broken4 ,and thus the ,iliad1 the ,inferno1 the ,pilgrim's ,progress1 the ,farie ,queen1 are all of them true dreams2 only the sleep of the men to whom they came was the deep1 living sleep which ,god sends1 with a sacredness in it1 as of death1 the revealer of secrets4 ,,lxi4 ,now1 observe in this matter1 carefully1 the difference between a dim mirror and a distorted one2 and do not blame me for pressing the analogy too far1 for it will enable me to explain my meaning every way more clearly4 ,most men's minds are dim mirrors1 in which all truth is seen1 as ,st4 ,paul tells us1 darkly3 this is the fault most common and most fatal2 dulness of the heart and mistiness of sight1 increasing to utter hardness and blindness2 ,satan breathing upon the glass1 so that if we do not sweep the mist laboriously away1 it will take no image4 ,but1 even so far as we are able to do this1 we have still the distortion to fear1 yet not to the same extent1 for we can in some sort allow for the distortion of an image1 if only we can see it clearly4 ,and the fallen human soul1 at its best1 must be as a diminishing glass1 and that a broken one1 to the mighty truths of the universe round it2 and the wider the scope of its glance1 and the vaster the truths into which it obtains an insight1 the more fantastic their distortion is likely to be1 as the winds and vapors trouble the field of the telescope most when it reaches farthest4 ,,lxii4 ,now1 so far as the truth is seen by the imagination#db in its wholeness and quietness1 the vision is sublime2 but so far as it is narrowed and broken by the inconsistencies of the human capacity1 it becomes grotesque2 and it would seem to be rare that any very exalted truth should be impressed on the imagination without some grotesqueness in its aspect1 proportioned to the degree of diminution of breadth in the grasp which is given of it4 ,nearly all the dreams recorded in the ,bible1--,jacob's1 ,joseph's1 ,pharaoh's1 ,nebuchadnezzar's1--are grotesques2 and nearly the whole of the accessary scenery in the books of ,ezekiel and the ,apocalypse4 ,thus1 ,jacob's dream revealed to him the ministry of angels2 but because this ministry could not be seen or understood by him in its fulness1 it was narrowed to him into a ladder between heaven and earth1 which was a grotesque4 ,joseph's two dreams were evidently intended to be signs of the steadfastness of the ,divine purpose towards him1 by possessing the clearness of special prophecy2 yet were couched in such imagery1 as not to inform him prematurely of his destiny1 and only to be understood after their fulfilment4 ,the sun1 and moon1 and stars were at the period1 and are indeed throughout the ,bible1 the symbols of high authority4 ,it was not revealed to ,joseph that he should be lord over all ,egypt2 but the representation of his family by symbols of the most magnificent dominion1 and yet as subject to him1 must have been afterwards felt by him as a distinctly prophetic indication of his own supreme power4 ,it was not revealed to him that the occasion of his brethren's special humiliation before him should be their coming to buy corn2 but when the event took place1 must he not have felt that there was prophetic purpose in the form of the sheaves of wheat which first imaged forth their subjection to him8 ,and these two images of the sun doing obeisance1 and the sheaves bowing down1--narrowed and imperfect intimations of great truth which yet could not be otherwise conveyed1--are both grotesque4 ,the kine of ,pharaoh eating each other1 the gold and clay of ,nebuchadnezzar's image1 the four beasts full of eyes1 and other imagery of ,ezekiel and the ,apocalypse1 are grotesques of the same kind1 on which ,i need not further insist4 ,,lxiii4 ,such forms1 however1 ought perhaps to have been arranged under a separate head1 as ,symbolical ,grotesque2 but the element of awe enters into them so strongly1 as to justify1 for all our present purposes1 their being classed with the other varieties of terrible grotesque4 ,for even if the symbolic vision itself be not terrible1 the sense of what may be veiled behind it becomes all the more awful in proportion to the insignificance or strangeness of the sign itself2 and1 ,i believe1 this thrill of mingled doubt1 fear1 and curiosity lies at the very root of the delight which mankind take in symbolism4 ,it was not an accidental necessity for the conveyance of truth by pictures instead of words1 which led to its universal adoption wherever art was on the advance2 but the ,divine fear which necessarily follows on the understanding that a thing is other and greater than it seems2 and which1 it appears probable1 has been rendered peculiarly attractive to the human heart1 because ,god would have us understand that this is true not of invented symbols merely1 but of all things amidst which we live2 that there is a deeper meaning within them than eye hath seen1 or ear hath heard2 and that the whole visible creation is a mere perishable symbol of things eternal and true4 ,it cannot but have been sometimes a subject of wonder with thoughtful men1 how fondly1 age after age1 the ,church has cherished the belief that the four living creatures which surrounded the ,apocalyptic throne were symbols of the four ,evangelists1 and rejoiced to use those forms in its picture-teaching2 that a calf1 a lion1 an eagle1 and a beast with a man's face1 should in all ages have been preferred by the ,christian world1 as expressive of ,evangelistic power and inspiration1 to the majesty of human forms2 and that quaint grotesques1 awkward and often ludicrous caricatures even of the animals represented1 should have been regarded by all men1 not only with contentment1 but with awe1 and have superseded all endeavors to represent the characters and persons of the ,evangelistic writers themselves 7except in a few instances1 confined principally to works undertaken without a definite religious purpose72--this1 ,i say1 might appear more than strange to us1 were it not that we ourselves share the awe1 and are still satisfied with the symbol1 and that justly4 ,for1 whether we are conscious of it or not1 there is in our hearts1 as we gaze upon the brutal forms that have so holy a signification1 an acknowledgment that it was not ,matthew1 nor ,mark1 nor ,luke1 nor ,john1 in whom the ,gospel of ,christ was unsealed3 but that the invisible things of ,him from the beginning of the creation are clearly seen1 being understood by the things that are made2 that the whole world1 and all that is therein1 be it low or high1 great or small1 is a continual ,gospel2 and that as the heathen1 in their alienation from ,god1 changed ,his glory into an image made like unto corruptible man1 and to birds1 and four-footed beasts1 the ,christian1 in his approach to ,god1 is to undo this work1 and to change the corruptible things into the image of ,his glory2 believing that there is nothing so base in creation1 but that our faith may give it wings which shall raise us into companionship with heaven2 and that1 on the other hand1 there is nothing so great or so goodly in creation1 but that it is a mean symbol of the ,gospel of ,christ1 and of the things ,he has prepared for them that love ,him4 ,,lxiv4 ,and it is easy to understand1 if we follow out this thought1 how1 when once the symbolic language was familiarized to the mind1 and its solemnity felt in all its fulness1 there was no likelihood of offence being taken at any repulsive or feeble characters in execution or conception4 ,there was no form so mean1 no incident so commonplace1 but1 if regarded in this light1 it might become sublime2 the more vigorous the fancy and the more faithful the enthusiasm1 the greater would be the likelihood of their delighting in the contemplation of symbols whose mystery was enhanced by apparent insignificance1 or in which the sanctity and majesty of meaning were contrasted with the utmost uncouthness of external form3 nor with uncouthness merely1 but even with every appearance of malignity or baseness2 the beholder not being revolted even by this1 but comprehending that1 as the seeming evil in the framework of creation did not invalidate its ,divine authorship1 so neither did the evil or imperfection in the symbol invalidate its ,divine message4 ,and thus1 sometimes1 the designer at last became wanton in his appeal to the piety of his interpreter1 and recklessly poured out the impurity and the savageness of his own heart1 for the mere pleasure of seeing them overlaid with the fine gold of the sanctuary1 by the religion of their beholder4 ,,lxv4 ,it is not1 however1 in every symbolical subject that the fearful grotesque becomes embodied to the full4 ,the element of distortion which affects the intellect when dealing with subjects above its proper capacity1 is as nothing compared with that which it sustains from the direct impressions of terror4 ,it is the trembling of the human soul in the presence of death which most of all disturbs the images on the intellectual mirror1 and invests them with the fitfulness and ghastliness of dreams4 ,and from the contemplation of death1 and of the pangs which follow his footsteps1 arise in men's hearts the troop of strange and irresistible superstitions which1 more or less melancholy or majestic according to the dignity of the mind they impress1 are yet never without a certain grotesqueness1 following on the paralysis of the reason and over-excitement of the fancy4 ,i do not mean to deny the actual existence of spiritual manifestations2 ,i have never weighed the evidence upon the subject2 but with these1 if such exist1 we are not here concerned4 ,the grotesque which we are examining arises out of that condition of mind which appears to follow naturally upon the contemplation of death1 and in which the fancy is brought into morbid action by terror1 accompanied by the belief in spiritual presence1 and in the possibility of spiritual apparition4 ,hence are developed its most sublime1 because its least voluntary1 creations1 aided by the fearfulness of the phenomena of nature which are in any wise the ministers of death1 and primarily directed by the peculiar ghastliness of expression in the skeleton1 itself a species of terrible grotesque in its relation to the perfect human frame4 ,,lxvi4 ,thus1 first born from the dusty and dreadful whiteness of the charnel house1 but softened in their forms by the holiest of human affections1 went forth the troop of wild and wonderful images1 seen through tears1 that had the mastery over our ,northern hearts for so many ages4 ,the powers of sudden destruction lurking in the woods and waters1 in the rocks and clouds2--kelpie and gnome1 ,lurlei and ,hartz spirits2 the wraith and foreboding phantom2 the spectra of second sight2 the various conceptions of avenging or tormented ghost1 haunting the perpetrator of crime1 or expiating its commission2 and the half fictitious and contemplative1 half visionary and believed images of the presence of death itself1 doing its daily work in the chambers of sickness and sin1 and waiting for its hour in the fortalices of strength and the high places of pleasure2--these1 partly degrading us by the instinctive and paralyzing terror with which they are attended1 and partly ennobling us by leading our thoughts to dwell in the eternal world1 fill the last and the most important circle in that great kingdom of dark and distorted power1 of which we all must be in some sort the subjects until mortality shall be swallowed up of life2 until the waters of the last fordless river cease to roll their untransparent volume between us and the light of heaven1 and neither death stand between us and our brethren1 nor symbols between us and our ,god4 ,,lxvii4 ,we have now1 ,i believe1 obtained a view approaching to completeness of the various branches of human feeling which are concerned in the developement of this peculiar form of art4 ,it remains for us only to note1 as briefly as possible1 what facts in the actual history of the grotesque bear upon our immediate subject4 ,from what we have seen to be its nature1 we must1 ,i think1 be led to one most important conclusion2 that wherever the human mind is healthy and vigorous in all its proportions1 great in imagination and emotion no less than in intellect1 and not overborne by an undue or hardened preminence of the mere reasoning faculties1 there the grotesque will exist in full energy4 ,and1 accordingly1 ,i believe that there is no test of greatness in periods1 nations1 or men1 more sure than the developement1 among them or in them1 of a noble grotesque1 and no test of comparative smallness or limitation1 of one kind or another1 more sure than the absence of grotesque invention1 or incapability of understanding it4 ,i think that the central man of all the world1 as representing in perfect balance the imaginative1 moral1 and intellectual faculties1 all at their highest1 is ,dante2 and in him the grotesque reaches at once the most distinct and the most noble developement to which it was ever brought in the human mind4 ,the two other greatest men whom ,italy has produced1 ,michael ,angelo and ,tintoret1 show the same element in no less original strength1 but oppressed in the one by his science1 and in both by the spirit of the age in which they lived2 never1 however1 absent even in ,michael ,angelo1 but stealing forth continually in a strange and spectral way1 lurking in folds of raiment and knots of wild hair1 and mountainous confusions of craggy limb and cloudy drapery2 and1 in ,tintoret1 ruling the entire conceptions of his greatest works to such a degree that they are an enigma or an offence1 even to this day1 to all the petty disciples of a formal criticism4 ,of the grotesque in our own ,shakspeare ,i need hardly speak1 nor of its intolerableness to his ,french critics2 nor of that of schylus and ,homer1 as opposed to the lower ,greek writers2 and so ,i believe it will be found1 at all periods1 in all minds of the first order4 ,,lxviii4 ,as an index of the greatness of nations1 it is a less certain test1 or1 rather1 we are not so well agreed on the meaning of the term greatness respecting them4 ,a nation may produce a great effect1 and take up a high place in the world's history1 by the temporary enthusiasm or fury of its multitudes1 without being truly great2 or1 on the other hand1 the discipline of morality and common sense may extend its physical power or exalt its well-being1 while yet its creative and imaginative powers are continually diminishing4 ,and again3 a people may take so definite a lead over all the rest of the world in one direction1 as to obtain a respect which is not justly due to them if judged on universal grounds4 ,thus the ,greeks perfected the sculpture of the human body2 threw their literature into a disciplined form1 which has given it a peculiar power over certain conditions of modern mind2 and were the most carefully educated race that the world has seen2 but a few years hence1 ,i believe1 we shall no longer think them a greater people than either the ,egyptians or ,assyrians4 ,,lxix4 ,if1 then1 ridding ourselves as far as possible of prejudices owing merely to the school-teaching which remains from the system of the ,renaissance1 we set ourselves to discover in what races the human soul1 taken all in all1 reached its highest magnificence1 we shall find1 ,i believe1 two great families of men1 one of the ,east and ,south1 the other of the ,west and ,north3 the one including the ,egyptians1 ,jews1 ,arabians1 ,assyrians1 and ,persians2 the other1 ,i know not whence derived1 but seeming to flow forth from ,scandinavia1 and filling the whole of ,europe with its ,norman and ,gothic energy4 ,and in both these families1 wherever they are seen in their utmost nobleness1 there the grotesque is developed in its utmost energy2 and ,i hardly know whether most to admire the winged bulls of ,nineveh1 or the winged dragons of ,verona4 ,,lxx4 ,the reader who has not before turned his attention to this subject may1 however1 at first have some difficulty in distinguishing between the noble grotesque of these great nations1 and the barbarous grotesque of mere savages1 as seen in the work of the ,hindoo and other ,indian nations2 or1 more grossly still1 in that of the complete savage of the ,pacific islands2 or if1 as is to be hoped1 he instinctively feels the difference1 he may yet find difficulty in determining wherein that difference consists4 ,but he will discover1 on consideration1 that the noble grotesque involves the true appreciation of beauty1 though the mind may wilfully turn to other images or the hand resolutely stop short of the perfection which it must fail1 if it endeavored1 to reach2 while the grotesque of the ,sandwich islander involves no perception or imagination of anything above itself4 ,he will find that in the exact proportion in which the grotesque results from an incapability of perceiving beauty1 it becomes savage or barbarous2 and that there are many stages of progress to be found in it even in its best times1 much truly savage grotesque occurring in the fine ,gothic periods1 mingled with the other forms of the ignoble grotesque resulting from vicious inclinations or base sportiveness4 ,nothing is more mysterious in the history of the human mind1 than the manner in which gross and ludicrous images are mingled with the most solemn subjects in the work of the middle ages1 whether of sculpture or illumination2 and although1 in great part1 such incongruities are to be accounted for on the various principles which ,i have above endeavored to define1 in many instances they are clearly the result of vice and sensuality4 ,the general greatness of seriousness of an age does not effect the restoration of human nature2 and it would be strange1 if1 in the midst of the art even of the best periods1 when that art was entrusted to myriads of workmen1 we found no manifestations of impiety1 folly1 or impurity4 ,,lxxi4 ,it needs only to be added that in the noble grotesque1 as it is partly the result of a morbid state of the imaginative power1 that power itself will be always seen in a high degree2 and that therefore our power of judging of the rank of a grotesque work will depend on the degree in which we are in general sensible of the presence of invention4 ,the reader may partly test this power in himself by referring to the ,plate given in the opening of this chapter1 in which1 on the left1 is a piece of noble and inventive grotesque1 a head of the lion-symbol of ,st4 ,mark1 from the ,veronese ,gothic2 the other is a head introduced as a boss on the foundation of the ,palazzo ,corner della ,regina at ,venice1 utterly devoid of invention1 made merely monstrous by exaggerations of the eyeballs and cheeks1 and generally characteristic of that late ,renaissance grotesque of ,venice1 with which we are at present more immediately concerned4#dc ,,lxxii4 ,the developement of that grotesque took place under different laws from those which regulate it in any other ,european city4 ,for1 great as we have seen the ,byzantine mind show itself to be in other directions1 it was marked as that of a declining nation by the absence of the grotesque element2 and1 owing to its influence1 the early ,venetian ,gothic remained inferior to all other schools in this particular character4 ,nothing can well be more wonderful than its instant failure in any attempt at the representation of ludicrous or fearful images1 more especially when it is compared with the magnificent grotesque of the neighboring city of ,verona1 in which the ,lombard influence had full sway4 ,nor was it until the last links of connexion with ,constantinople had been dissolved1 that the strength of the ,venetian mind could manifest itself in this direction4 ,but it had then a new enemy to encounter4 ,the ,renaissance laws altogether checked its imagination in architecture2 and it could only obtain permission to express itself by starting forth in the work of the ,venetian painters1 filling them with monkeys and dwarfs1 even amidst the most serious subjects1 and leading ,veronese and ,tintoret to the most unexpected and wild fantasies of form and color4 ,,lxxiii4 ,we may be deeply thankful for this peculiar reserve of the ,gothic grotesque character to the last days of ,venice4 ,all over the rest of ,europe it had been strongest in the days of imperfect art2 magnificently powerful throughout the whole of the thirteenth century1 tamed gradually in the fourteenth and fifteenth1 and expiring in the sixteenth amidst anatomy and laws of art4 ,but at ,venice1 it had not been received when it was elsewhere in triumph1 and it fled to the lagoons for shelter when elsewhere it was oppressed4 ,and it was arrayed by the ,venetian painters in robes of state1 and advanced by them to such honor as it had never received in its days of widest dominion2 while1 in return1 it bestowed upon their pictures that fulness1 piquancy1 decision of parts1 and mosaic-like intermingling of fancies1 alternately brilliant and sublime1 which were exactly what was most needed for the developement of their unapproachable color-power4 ,,lxxiv4 ,yet1 observe1 it by no means follows that because the grotesque does not appear in the art of a nation1 the sense of it does not exist in the national mind4 ,except in the form of caricature1 it is hardly traceable in the ,english work of the present day2 but the minds of our workmen are full of it1 if we would only allow them to give it shape4 ,they express it daily in gesture and gibe1 but are not allowed to do so where it would be useful4 ,in like manner1 though the ,byzantine influence repressed it in the early ,venetian architecture1 it was always present in the ,venetian mind1 and showed itself in various forms of national custom and festival2 acted grotesques1 full of wit1 feeling1 and good-humor4 ,the ceremony of the hat and the orange1 described in the beginning of this chapter1 is one instance out of multitudes4 ,another1 more rude1 and exceedingly characteristic1 was that instituted in the twelfth century in memorial of the submission of ,woldaric1 the patriarch of ,aquileia1 who1 having taken up arms against the patriarch of ,grado1 and being defeated and taken prisoner by the ,venetians1 was sentenced1 not to death1 but to send every year on ,fat ,thursday sixty-two large loaves1 twelve fat pigs1 and a bull1 to the ,doge2 the bull being understood to represent the patriarch1 and the twelve pigs his clergy3 and the ceremonies of the day consisting in the decapitation of these representatives1 and a distribution of their joints among the senators2 together with a symbolic record of the attack upon ,aquileia1 by the erection of a wooden castle in the rooms of the ,ducal ,palace1 which the ,doge and the ,senate attacked and demolished with clubs4 ,as long as the ,doge and the ,senate were truly kingly and noble1 they were content to let this ceremony be continued2 but when they became proud and selfish1 and were destroying both themselves and the state by their luxury1 they found it inconsistent with their dignity1 and it was abolished1 as far as the ,senate was concerned1 in #aedi4dd ,,lxxv4 ,by these and other similar manifestations1 the grotesque spirit is traceable through all the strength of the ,venetian people4 ,but again3 it is necessary that we should carefully distinguish between it and the spirit of mere levity4 ,i said1 in the fifth chapter1 that the ,venetians were distinctively a serious people1 serious1 that is to say1 in the sense in which the ,english are a more serious people than the ,french2 though the habitual intercourse of our lower classes in ,london has a tone of humor in it which ,i believe is untraceable in that of the ,parisian populace4 ,it is one thing to indulge in playful rest1 and another to be devoted to the pursuit of pleasure3 and gaiety of heart during the reaction after hard labor1 and quickened by satisfaction in the accomplished duty or perfected result1 is altogether compatible with1 nay1 even in some sort arises naturally out of1 a deep internal seriousness of disposition2 this latter being exactly the condition of mind which1 as we have seen1 leads to the richest developements of the playful grotesque2 while1 on the contrary1 the continual pursuit of pleasure deprives the soul of all alacrity and elasticity1 and leaves it incapable of happy jesting1 capable only of that which is bitter1 base1 and foolish4 ,thus1 throughout the whole of the early career of the ,venetians1 though there is much jesting1 there is no levity2 on the contrary there is an intense earnestness both in their pursuit of commercial and political successes1 and in their devotion to religion1#de which led gradually to the formation of that highly wrought mingling of immovable resolution with secret thoughtfulness1 which so strangely1 sometimes so darkly1 distinguishes the ,venetian character at the time of their highest power1 when the seriousness was left1 but the conscientiousness destroyed4 ,and if there be any one sign by which the ,venetian countenance1 as it is recorded for us1 to the very life1 by a school of portraiture which has never been equalled 7chiefly because no portraiture ever had subjects so noble71--,i say1 if there be one thing more notable than another in the ,venetian features1 it is this deep pensiveness and solemnity4 ,in other districts of ,italy1 the dignity of the heads which occur in the most celebrated compositions is clearly owing to the feeling of the painter4 ,he has visibly raised or idealized his models1 and appears always to be veiling the faults or failings of the human nature around him1 so that the best of his work is that which has most perfectly taken the color of his own mind2 and the least impressive1 if not the least valuable1 that which appears to have been unaffected and unmodified portraiture4 ,but at ,venice1 all is exactly the reverse of this4 ,the tone of mind in the painter appears often in some degree frivolous or sensual2 delighting in costume1 in domestic and grotesque incident1 and in studies of the naked form4 ,but the moment he gives himself definitely to portraiture1 all is noble and grave2 the more literally true his work1 the more majestic2 and the same artist who will produce little beyond what is commonplace in painting a ,madonna or an apostle1 will rise into unapproachable sublimity when his subject is a member of the ,forty1 or a ,master of the ,mint4 ,such1 then1 were the general tone and progress of the ,venetian mind1 up to the close of the seventeenth century4 ,first1 serious1 religious1 and sincere2 then1 though serious still1 comparatively deprived of conscientiousness1 and apt to decline into stern and subtle policy3 in the first case1 the spirit of the noble grotesque not showing itself in art at all1 but only in speech and action2 in the second case1 developing itself in painting1 through accessories and vivacities of composition1 while perfect dignity was always preserved in portraiture4 ,a third phase rapidly developed itself4 ,,lxxvi4 ,once more1 and for the last time1 let me refer the reader to the important epoch of the death of the ,doge ,tomaso ,mocenigo in #adbc1 long ago indicated as the commencement of the decline of the ,venetian power4 ,that commencement is marked1 not merely by the words of the dying ,prince1 but by a great and clearly legible sign4 ,it is recorded1 that on the accession of his successor1 ,foscari1 to the throne1 ,,si ,,festeggio ,,dalla ,,citta ,,uno ,,anno ,,intero3 ,the city kept festival for a whole year4 ,venice had in her childhood sown1 in tears1 the harvest she was to reap in rejoicing4 ,she now sowed in laughter the seeds of death4 ,thenceforward1 year after year1 the nation drank with deeper thirst from the fountains of forbidden pleasure1 and dug for springs1 hitherto unknown1 in the dark places of the earth4 ,in the ingenuity of indulgence1 in the varieties of vanity1 ,venice surpassed the cities of ,christendom1 as of old she surpassed them in fortitude and devotion2 and as once the powers of ,europe stood before her judgment-seat1 to receive the decisions of her justice1 so now the youth of ,europe assembled in the halls of her luxury1 to learn from her the arts of delight4 ,it is as needless1 as it is painful1 to trace the steps of her final ruin4 ,that ancient curse was upon her1 the curse of the cities of the plain1 ,pride1 fulness of bread1 and abundance of idleness4 ,by the inner burning of her own passions1 as fatal as the fiery reign of ,gomorrah1 she was consumed from her place among the nations2 and her ashes are choking the channels of the dead salt sea4 ,,footnotes3 #bg ,mutinelli1 ,annali ,urbani1 lib4 i4 p4 #bd2 and the ,chronicle of #agch1 quoted by ,galliciolli3 attrovandosi allora la giesia de ,sta4 ,maria ,formosa sola giesia del nome della gloriosa ,vergine ,maria4 #bh ,or from the brightness of the cloud1 according to the ,padre who arranged the ,memorie delle ,chiese di ,venezia1 vol4 iii4 p4 #g4 ,compare ,corner1 p4 #db4 ,this first church was built in #fci4 #bi ,perhaps both ,corner and the ,padre founded their diluted information on the short sentence of ,sansovino3 ,finalmente1 l'anno #ajge1 fu ridotta a perfezione da ,paolo ,barbetta1 sul modello del corpo di mezzo della chiesa di ,s4 ,marco4 ,sansovino1 however1 gives #hdb1 instead of #hfd1 as the date of the first rebuilding4 #cj ,or at least for its principal families4 ,vide ,appendix #h1 ,early ,venetian ,marriages4 #ca ,nazionale quasi la ceremonia1 perciocche per essa nuovi difensori ad acquistar andava la patria1 sostegni nuovi le leggi1 la ,liberta4--,mutinelli4 #cb ,vestita1 per antico uso1 di bianco1 e con chiome sparse gi per le spalle1 conteste con fila d'oro4 ,dressed according to ancient usage in white1 and with her hair thrown down upon her shoulders1 interwoven with threads of gold4 ,this was when she was first brought out of her chamber to be seen by the guests invited to the espousals4 ,and when the form of the espousal has been gone through1 she is led1 to the sound of pipes and trumpets1 and other musical instruments1 round the room1 dancing serenely all the time1 and bowing herself before the guests 7ballando placidamente1 e facendo inchini ai convitati72 and so she returns to her chamber3 and when other guests have arrived1 she again comes forth1 and makes the circuit of the chamber4 ,and this is repeated for an hour or somewhat more2 and then1 accompanied by many ladies who wait for her1 she enters a gondola without its felze 7canopy71 and1 seated on a somewhat raised seat covered with carpets1 with a great number of gondolas following her1 she goes to visit the monasteries and convents1 wheresoever she has any relations4 #cc ,sansovino4 #cd ,english1 ,malmsey4 ,the reader will find a most amusing account of the negotiations between the ,english and ,venetians1 touching the supply of ,london with this wine1 in ,mr4 ,brown's translation of the ,giustiniani papers4 ,see ,appendix ,,ix4 #ce ,,xv4 diebus et octo diebus ante festum ,mariarum omni anno4--,galliciolli4 ,the same precautions were taken before the feast of the ,ascension4 #cf ,casa ,vittura4 #cg ,the keystone of the arch on its western side1 facing the canal4 #ch ,the inscriptions are as follows3 ,to the left of the reader4 ,,vincentius ,,capellus ,,maritimarum ,,rerum ,,peritissimus ,,et ,,antiquorum ,,laudibus ,,par1 ,,triremium ,,oneraria ,,rum ,,pr,,fectus1 ,,ab ,,henrico ,,vii4 ,,bri ,,tanni ,,rege ,,insigne ,,donatus ,,clas ,,sis ,,legatus ,v4 ,,imp4 ,,desig4 ,,ter ,,clas ,,sem ,,deduxit1 ,,collapsam ,,navalem ,,dis ,,ciplinam ,,restituit1 ,,ad ,,zacxinthum ,,auri ,c,,saris ,,legato ,,priscam ,,venetam ,,virtutem ,,ostendit4 ,to the right of the reader4 ,,in ,,ambracio ,,sinu ,,barbarussum ,,ottho ,,manic ,,classis ,,ducem ,,inclusit ,,postridie ,,ad ,,internitionem ,,deletu ,,rus ,,nisi ,,fata ,,christianis ,,adversa ,,vetuissent4 ,,in ,,ryzonico ,,sinu ,,castro ,,novo ,,expugnato ,,divi ,,marci ,,procur ,,universo ,,reip ,,consensu ,,creatus ,,in ,,patria ,,moritur ,,totius ,,civitatis ,,moerore1 ,,anno ,,tatis ,,lxxiv4 ,,mdcxlii4 ,,xiv4 ,,kal ,,sept4 #ci ,the ,love of ,god is1 however1 always shown by the predominance1 or greater sum1 of good1 in the end2 but never by the annihilation of evil4 ,the modern doubts of eternal punishment are not so much the consequence of benevolence as of feeble powers of reasoning4 ,every one admits that ,god brings finite good out of finite evil4 ,why not1 therefore1 infinite good out of infinite evil8 #dj ,let the reader examine1 with special reference to this subject1 the general character of the language of ,iago4 #da ,this opposition of art to inspiration is long and gracefully dwelt upon by ,plato1 in his ,phdrus1 using1 in the course of his argument1 almost the words of ,st ,paul3 ,greek3 kallion marturousin oi palaioi manian sphrosyns tn ek ,theou ts par anthrpn gignomens3 ,it is the testimony of the ancients1 that the madness which is of ,god is a nobler thing than the wisdom which is of men2 and again1 ,he who sets himself to any work with which the ,muses have to do1 7i4 e4 to any of the fine arts17 without madness1 thinking that by art alone he can do his work sufficiently1 will be found vain and incapable1 and the work of temperance and rationalism will be thrust aside and obscured by that of inspiration4 ,the passages to the same effect1 relating especially to poetry1 are innumerable in nearly all ancient writers2 but in this of ,plato1 the entire compass of the fine arts is intended to be embraced4 ,no one acquainted with other parts of my writings will suppose me to be an advocate of idle trust in the imagination4 ,but it is in these days just as necessary to allege the supremacy of genius as the necessity of labor2 for there never was1 perhaps1 a period in which the peculiar gift of the painter was so little discerned1 in which so many and so vain efforts have been made to replace it by study and toil4 ,this has been peculiarly the case with the ,german school1 and there are few exhibitions of human error more pitiable than the manner in which the inferior members of it1 men originally and for ever destitute of the painting faculty1 force themselves into an unnatural1 encumbered1 learned fructification of tasteless fruit1 and pass laborious lives in setting obscurely and weakly upon canvas the philosophy1 if such it be1 which ten minutes' work of a strong man would have put into healthy practice1 or plain words4 ,i know not anything more melancholy than the sight of the huge ,german cartoon1 with its objective side1 and subjective side2 and mythological division1 and symbolical division1 and human and ,divine division2 its allegorical sense1 and literal sense2 and ideal point of view1 and intellectual point of view2 its heroism of well-made armor and knitted brows2 its heroinism of graceful attitude and braided hair2 its inwoven web of sentiment1 and piety1 and philosophy1 and anatomy1 and history1 all profound3 and twenty innocent dashes of the hand of one ,god-made painter1 poor old ,bassan or ,bonifazio1 were worth it all1 and worth it ten thousand times over4 ,not that the sentiment or the philosophy is base in itself4 ,they will make a good man1 but they will not make a good painter1--no1 nor the millionth part of a painter4 ,they would have been good in the work and words of daily life2 but they are good for nothing in the cartoon1 if they are there alone4 ,and the worst result of the system is the intense conceit into which it cultivates a weak mind4 ,nothing is so hopeless1 so intolerable1 as the pride of a foolish man who has passed through a process of thinking1 so as actually to have found something out4 ,he believes there is nothing else to be found out in the universe4 ,whereas the truly great man1 on whom the ,revelations rain till they bear him to the earth with their weight1 lays his head in the dust1 and speaks thence--often in broken syllables4 ,vanity is indeed a very equally divided inheritance among mankind2 but ,i think that among the first persons1 no emphasis is altogether so strong as that on the ,german ,ich4 ,i was once introduced to a ,german philosopher-painter before ,tintoret's ,massacre of the ,innocents4 ,he looked at it superciliously1 and said it wanted to be restored4 ,he had been himself several years employed in painting a ,faust in a red jerkin and blue fire2 which made ,tintoret appear somewhat dull to him4 #db ,i have before stated 7,modern ,painters vol4 ii47 that the first function of the imagination is the apprehension of ultimate truth4 #dc ,note especially1 in connexion with what was advanced in ,vol4 ,,ii4 respecting our ,english neatness of execution1 how the base workman has cut the lines of the architecture neatly and precisely round the abominable head3 but the noble workman has used his chisel like a painter's pencil1 and sketched the glory with a few irregular lines1 anything rather than circular2 and struck out the whole head in the same frank and fearless way1 leaving the sharp edges of the stone as they first broke1 and flinging back the crest of hair from the forehead with half a dozen hammer-strokes1 while the poor wretch who did the other was half a day in smoothing its vapid and vermicular curls4 #dd ,the decree is quoted by ,mutinelli1 lib4 i4 p4 #df4 #de ,see ,appendix #i4 ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,conclusion4 ,i4 ,i fear this chapter will be a rambling one1 for it must be a kind of supplement to the preceding pages1 and a general recapitulation of the things ,i have too imperfectly and feebly said4 ,the grotesques of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries1 the nature of which we examined in the last chapter1 close the career of the architecture of ,europe4 ,they were the last evidences of any feeling consistent with itself1 and capable of directing the efforts of the builder to the formation of anything worthy the name of a style or school4 ,from that time to this1 no resuscitation of energy has taken place1 nor does any for the present appear possible4 ,how long this impossibility may last1 and in what direction with regard to art in general1 as well as to our lifeless architecture1 our immediate efforts may most profitably be directed1 are the questions ,i would endeavor briefly to consider in the present chapter4 ,,ii4 ,that modern science1 with all its additions to the comforts of life1 and to the fields of rational contemplation1 has placed the existing races of mankind on a higher platform than any that preceded them1 none can doubt for an instant2 and ,i believe the position in which we find ourselves is somewhat analogous to that of thoughtful and laborious youth succeeding a restless and heedless infancy4 ,not long ago1 it was said to me by one of the masters of modern science3 ,when men invented the locomotive1 the child was learning to go2 when they invented the telegraph1 it was learning to speak4 ,he looked forward to the manhood of mankind1 as assuredly the nobler in proportion to the slowness of its developement4 ,what might not be expected from the prime and middle strength of the order of existence whose infancy had lasted six thousand years8 ,and1 indeed1 ,i think this the truest1 as well as the most cheering1 view that we can take of the world's history4 ,little progress has been made as yet4 ,base war1 lying policy1 thoughtless cruelty1 senseless improvidence1--all things which1 in nations1 are analogous to the petulance1 cunning1 impatience1 and carelessness of infancy1--have been1 up to this hour1 as characteristic of mankind as they were in the earliest periods2 so that we must either be driven to doubt of human progress at all1 or look upon it as in its very earliest stage4 ,whether the opportunity is to be permitted us to redeem the hours that we have lost2 whether ,he1 in whose sight a thousand years are as one day1 has appointed us to be tried by the continued possession of the strange powers with which ,he has lately endowed us2 or whether the periods of childhood and of probation are to cease together1 and the youth of mankind is to be one which shall prevail over death1 and bloom for ever in the midst of a new heaven and a new earth1 are questions with which we have no concern4 ,it is indeed right that we should look for1 and hasten1 so far as in us lies1 the coming of the ,day of ,god2 but not that we should check any human efforts by anticipations of its approach4 ,we shall hasten it best by endeavoring to work out the tasks that are appointed for us here2 and1 therefore1 reasoning as if the world were to continue under its existing dispensation1 and the powers which have just been granted to us were to be continued through myriads of future ages4 ,,iii4 ,it seems to me1 then1 that the whole human race1 so far as their own reason can be trusted1 may at present be regarded as just emergent from childhood2 and beginning for the first time to feel their strength1 to stretch their limbs1 and explore the creation around them4 ,if we consider that1 till within the last fifty years1 the nature of the ground we tread on1 of the air we breathe1 and of the light by which we see1 were not so much as conjecturally conceived by us2 that the duration of the globe1 and the races of animal life by which it was inhabited1 are just beginning to be apprehended2 and that the scope of the magnificent science which has revealed them1 is as yet so little received by the public mind1 that presumption and ignorance are still permitted to raise their voices against it unrebuked2 that perfect veracity in the representation of general nature by art has never been attempted until the present day1 and has in the present day been resisted with all the energy of the popular voice2#df that the simplest problems of social science are yet so little understood1 as that doctrines of liberty and equality can be openly preached1 and so successfully as to affect the whole body of the civilized world with apparently incurable disease2 that the first principles of commerce were acknowledged by the ,english ,parliament only a few months ago1 in its free trade measures1 and are still so little understood by the million1 that no nation dares to abolish its custom-houses2#dg that the simplest principles of policy are still not so much as stated1 far less received1 and that civilized nations persist in the belief that the subtlety and dishonesty which they know to be ruinous in dealings between man and man1 are serviceable in dealings between multitude and multitude2 finally1 that the scope of the ,christian religion1 which we have been taught for two thousand years1 is still so little conceived by us1 that we suppose the laws of charity and of self-sacrifice bear upon individuals in all their social relations1 and yet do not bear upon nations in any of their political relations2--when1 ,i say1 we thus review the depth of simplicity in which the human race are still plunged with respect to all that it most profoundly concerns them to know1 and which might1 by them1 with most ease have been ascertained1 we can hardly determine how far back on the narrow path of human progress we ought to place the generation to which we belong1 how far the swaddling clothes are unwound from us1 and childish things beginning to be put away4 ,on the other hand1 a power of obtaining veracity in the representation of material and tangible things1 which1 within certain limits and conditions1 is unimpeachable1 has now been placed in the hands of all men1#dh almost without labor4 ,the foundation of every natural science is now at last firmly laid1 not a day passing without some addition of buttress and pinnacle to their already magnificent fabric4 ,social theorems1 if fiercely agitated1 are therefore the more likely to be at last determined1 so that they never can be matters of question more4 ,human life has been in some sense prolonged by the increased powers of locomotion1 and an almost limitless power of converse4 ,finally1 there is hardly any serious mind in ,europe but is occupied1 more or less1 in the investigation of the questions which have so long paralyzed the strength of religious feeling1 and shortened the dominion of religious faith4 ,and we may therefore at least look upon ourselves as so far in a definite state of progress1 as to justify our caution in guarding against the dangers incident to every period of change1 and especially to that from childhood into youth4 ,,iv4 ,those dangers appear1 in the main1 to be twofold2 consisting partly in the pride of vain knowledge1 partly in the pursuit of vain pleasure4 ,a few points are still to be noticed with respect to each of these heads4 ,enough1 it might be thought1 had been said already1 touching the pride of knowledge2 but ,i have not yet applied the principles1 at which we arrived in the third chapter1 to the practical questions of modern art4 ,and ,i think those principles1 together with what were deduced from the consideration of the nature of ,gothic in the second volume1 so necessary and vital1 not only with respect to the progress of art1 but even to the happiness of society1 that ,i will rather run the risk of tediousness than of deficiency1 in their illustration and enforcement4 ,in examining the nature of ,gothic1 we concluded that one of the chief elements of power in that1 and in all good architecture1 was the acceptance of uncultivated and rude energy in the workman4 ,in examining the nature of ,renaissance1 we concluded that its chief element of weakness was that pride of knowledge which not only prevented all rudeness in expression1 but gradually quenched all energy which could only be rudely expressed2 nor only so1 but1 for the motive and matter of the work itself1 preferred science to emotion1 and experience to perception4 ,v4 ,the modern mind differs from the ,renaissance mind in that its learning is more substantial and extended1 and its temper more humble2 but its errors1 with respect to the cultivation of art1 are precisely the same1--nay1 as far as regards execution1 even more aggravated4 ,we require1 at present1 from our general workmen1 more perfect finish than was demanded in the most skilful ,renaissance periods1 except in their very finest productions2 and our leading principles in teaching1 and in the patronage which necessarily gives tone to teaching1 are1 that the goodness of work consists primarily in firmness of handling and accuracy of science1 that is to say1 in hand-work and head-work2 whereas heart-work1 which is the one work we want1 is not only independent of both1 but often1 in great degree1 inconsistent with either4 ,,vi4 ,here1 therefore1 let me finally and firmly enunciate the great principle to which all that has hitherto been stated is subservient3--that art is valuable or otherwise1 only as it expresses the personality1 activity1 and living perception of a good and great human soul2 that it may express and contain this with little help from execution1 and less from science2 and that if it have not this1 if it show not the vigor1 perception1 and invention of a mighty human spirit1 it is worthless4 ,worthless1 ,i mean1 as art2 it may be precious in some other way1 but1 as art1 it is nugatory4 ,once let this be well understood among us1 and magnificent consequences will soon follow4 ,let me repeat it in other terms1 so that ,i may not be misunderstood4 ,all art is great1 and good1 and true1 only so far as it is distinctively the work of manhood in its entire and highest sense2 that is to say1 not the work of limbs and fingers1 but of the soul1 aided1 according to her necessities1 by the inferior powers2 and therefore distinguished in essence from all products of those inferior powers unhelped by the soul4 ,for as a photograph is not a work of art1 though it requires certain delicate manipulations of paper and acid1 and subtle calculations of time1 in order to bring out a good result2 so1 neither would a drawing like a photograph1 made directly from nature1 be a work of art1 although it would imply many delicate manipulations of the pencil and subtle calculations of effects of color and shade4 ,it is no more art#di to manipulate a camel's hair pencil1 than to manipulate a china tray and a glass vial4 ,it is no more art to lay on color delicately1 than to lay on acid delicately4 ,it is no more art to use the cornea and retina for the reception of an image1 than to use a lens and a piece of silvered paper4 ,but the moment that inner part of the man1 or rather that entire and only being of the man1 of which cornea and retina1 fingers and hands1 pencils and colors1 are all the mere servants and instruments2#ej that manhood which has light in itself1 though the eyeball be sightless1 and can gain in strength when the hand and the foot are hewn off and cast into the fire2 the moment this part of the man stands forth with its solemn ,behold1 it is ,i1 then the work becomes art indeed1 perfect in honor1 priceless in value1 boundless in power4 ,,vii4 ,yet observe1 ,i do not mean to speak of the body and soul as separable4 ,the man is made up of both3 they are to be raised and glorified together1 and all art is an expression of the one1 by and through the other4 ,all that ,i would insist upon is1 the necessity of the whole man being in his work2 the body must be in it4 ,hands and habits must be in it1 whether we will or not2 but the nobler part of the man may often not be in it4 ,and that nobler part acts principally in love1 reverence1 and admiration1 together with those conditions of thought which arise out of them4 ,for we usually fall into much error by considering the intellectual powers as having dignity in themselves1 and separable from the heart2 whereas the truth is1 that the intellect becomes noble and ignoble according to the food we give it1 and the kind of subjects with which it is conversant4 ,it is not the reasoning power which1 of itself1 is noble1 but the reasoning power occupied with its proper objects4 ,half of the mistakes of metaphysicians have arisen from their not observing this2 namely1 that the intellect1 going through the same processes1 is yet mean or noble according to the matter it deals with1 and wastes itself away in mere rotatory motion1 if it be set to grind straws and dust4 ,if we reason only respecting words1 or lines1 or any trifling and finite things1 the reason becomes a contemptible faculty2 but reason employed on holy and infinite things1 becomes herself holy and infinite4 ,so that1 by work of the soul1 ,i mean the reader always to understand the work of the entire immortal creature1 proceeding from a quick1 perceptive1 and eager heart1 perfected by the intellect1 and finally dealt with by the hands1 under the direct guidance of these higher powers4 ,,viii4 ,and now observe1 the first important consequence of our fully understanding this preminence of the soul1 will be the due understanding of that subordination of knowledge respecting which so much has already been said4 ,for it must be felt at once1 that the increase of knowledge1 merely as such1 does not make the soul larger or smaller2 that1 in the sight of ,god1 all the knowledge man can gain is as nothing3 but that the soul1 for which the great scheme of redemption was laid1 be it ignorant or be it wise1 is all in all2 and in the activity1 strength1 health1 and well-being of this soul1 lies the main difference1 in ,his sight1 between one man and another4 ,and that which is all in all in ,god's estimate is also1 be assured1 all in all in man's labor2 and to have the heart open1 and the eyes clear1 and the emotions and thoughts warm and quick1 and not the knowing of this or the other fact1 is the state needed for all mighty doing in this world4 ,and therefore finally1 for this1 the weightiest of all reasons1 let us take no pride in our knowledge4 ,we may1 in a certain sense1 be proud of being immortal2 we may be proud of being ,god's children2 we may be proud of loving1 thinking1 seeing1 and of all that we are by no human teaching3 but not of what we have been taught by rote2 not of the ballast and freight of the ship of the spirit1 but only of its pilotage1 without which all the freight will only sink it faster1 and strew the sea more richly with its ruin4 ,there is not at this moment a youth of twenty1 having received what we moderns ridiculously call education1 but he knows more of everything1 except the soul1 than ,plato or ,st4 ,paul did2 but he is not for that reason a greater man1 or fitter for his work1 or more fit to be heard by others1 than ,plato or ,st4 ,paul4 ,there is not at this moment a junior student in our schools of painting1 who does not know fifty times as much about the art as ,giotto did2 but he is not for that reason greater than ,giotto2 no1 nor his work better1 nor fitter for our beholding4 ,let him go on to know all that the human intellect can discover and contain in the term of a long life1 and he will not be one inch1 one line1 nearer to ,giotto's feet4 ,but let him leave his academy benches1 and1 innocently1 as one knowing nothing1 go out into the highways and hedges1 and there rejoice with them that rejoice1 and weep with them that weep2 and in the next world1 among the companies of the great and good1 ,giotto will give his hand to him1 and lead him into their white circle1 and say1 ,this is our brother4 ,,ix4 ,and the second important consequence of our feeling the soul's preminence will be our understanding the soul's language1 however broken1 or low1 or feeble1 or obscure in its words2 and chiefly that great symbolic language of past ages1 which has now so long been unspoken4 ,it is strange that the same cold and formal spirit which the ,renaissance teaching has raised amongst us1 should be equally dead to the languages of imitation and of symbolism2 and should at once disdain the faithful rendering of real nature by the modern school of the ,pre-,raphaelites1 and the symbolic rendering of imagined nature in the work of the thirteenth century4 ,but so it is2 and we find the same body of modern artists rejecting ,pre-,raphaelitism because it is not ideal6 and thirteenth century work1 because it is not real6--their own practice being at once false and un-ideal1 and therefore equally opposed to both4 ,x4 ,it is therefore1 at this juncture1 of much importance to mark for the reader the exact relation of healthy symbolism and of healthy imitation2 and1 in order to do so1 let us return to one of our ,venetian examples of symbolic art1 to the central cupola of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,on that cupola1 as has been already stated1 there is a mosaic representing the ,apostles on the ,mount of ,olives1 with an olive-tree separating each from the other2 and we shall easily arrive at our purpose1 by comparing the means which would have been adopted by a modern artist bred in the ,renaissance schools1--that is to say1 under the influence of ,claude and ,poussin1 and of the common teaching of the present day1--with those adopted by the ,byzantine mosaicist to express the nature of these trees4 ,,xi4 ,the reader is doubtless aware that the olive is one of the most characteristic and beautiful features of all ,southern scenery4 ,on the slopes of the northern ,apennines1 olives are the usual forest timber2 the whole of the ,val d',arno is wooded with them1 every one of its gardens is filled with them1 and they grow in orchard-like ranks out of its fields of maize1 or corn1 or vine2 so that it is physically impossible1 in most parts of the neighborhood of ,florence1 ,pistoja1 ,lucca1 or ,pisa1 to choose any site of landscape which shall not owe its leading character to the foliage of these trees4 ,what the elm and oak are to ,england1 the olive is to ,italy2 nay1 more than this1 its presence is so constant1 that1 in the case of at least four fifths of the drawings made by any artist in ,north ,italy1 he must have been somewhat impeded by branches of olive coming between him and the landscape4 ,its classical associations double its importance in ,greece2 and in the ,holy ,land the remembrances connected with it are of course more touching than can ever belong to any other tree of the field4 ,now1 for many years back1 at least one third out of all the landscapes painted by ,english artists have been chosen from ,italian scenery2 sketches in ,greece and in the ,holy ,land have become as common as sketches on ,hampstead ,heath2 our galleries also are full of sacred subjects1 in which1 if any background be introduced at all1 the foliage of the olive ought to have been a prominent feature4 ,and here ,i challenge the untravelled ,english reader to tell me what an olive-tree is like8 ,,xii4 ,i know he cannot answer my challenge4 ,he has no more idea of an olive-tree than if olives grew only in the fixed stars4 ,let him meditate a little on this one fact1 and consider its strangeness1 and what a wilful and constant closing of the eyes to the most important truths it indicates on the part of the modern artist4 ,observe1 a want of perception1 not of science4 ,i do not want painters to tell me any scientific facts about olive-trees4 ,but it had been well for them to have felt and seen the olive-tree2 to have loved it for ,christ's sake1 partly also for the helmed ,wisdom's sake which was to the heathen in some sort as that nobler ,wisdom which stood at ,god's right hand1 when ,he founded the earth and established the heavens4 ,to have loved it1 even to the hoary dimness of its delicate foliage1 subdued and faint of hue1 as if the ashes of the ,gethsemane agony had been cast upon it for ever2 and to have traced1 line by line1 the gnarled writhing of its intricate branches1 and the pointed fretwork of its light and narrow leaves1 inlaid on the blue field of the sky1 and the small rosy-white stars of its spring blossoming1 and the beads of sable fruit scattered by autumn along its topmost boughs--the right1 in ,israel1 of the stranger1 the fatherless1 and the widow1--and1 more than all1 the softness of the mantle1 silver grey1 and tender like the down on a bird's breast1 with which1 far away1 it veils the undulation of the mountains2--these it had been well for them to have seen and drawn1 whatever they had left unstudied in the gallery4 ,,xiii4 ,and if the reader would know the reason why this has not been done 7it is one instance only out of the myriads which might be given of sightlessness in modern art71 and will ask the artists themselves1 he will be informed of another of the marvellous contradictions and inconsistencies in the base ,renaissance art2 for it will be answered him1 that it is not right1 nor according to law1 to draw trees so that one should be known from another1 but that trees ought to be generalized into a universal idea of a tree3 that is to say1 that the very school which carries its science in the representation of man down to the dissection of the most minute muscle1 refuses so much science to the drawing of a tree as shall distinguish one species from another2 and also1 while it attends to logic1 and rhetoric1 and perspective1 and atmosphere1 and every other circumstance which is trivial1 verbal1 external1 or accidental1 in what it either says or sees1 it will not attend to what is essential and substantial1--being intensely solicitous1 for instance1 if it draws two trees1 one behind the other1 that the farthest off shall be as much smaller as mathematics show that it should be1 but totally unsolicitous to show1 what to the spectator is a far more important matter1 whether it is an apple or an orange tree4 ,,xiv4 ,this1 however1 is not to our immediate purpose4 ,let it be granted that an idea of an olive-tree is indeed to be given us in a special manner2 how1 and by what language1 this idea is to be conveyed1 are questions on which we shall find the world of artists again divided2 and it was this division which ,i wished especially to illustrate by reference to the mosaics of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,now the main characteristics of an olive-tree are these4 ,it has sharp and slender leaves of a greyish green1 nearly grey on the under surface1 and resembling1 but somewhat smaller than1 those of our common willow4 ,its fruit1 when ripe1 is black and lustrous2 but of course so small1 that1 unless in great quantity1 it is not conspicuous upon the tree4 ,its trunk and branches are peculiarly fantastic in their twisting1 showing their fibres at every turn2 and the trunk is often hollow1 and even rent into many divisions like separate stems1 but the extremities are exquisitely graceful1 especially in the setting on of the leaves2 and the notable and characteristic effect of the tree in the distance is of a rounded and soft mass or ball of downy foliage4 ,,xv4 ,supposing a modern artist to address himself to the rendering of this tree with his best skill3 he will probably draw accurately the twisting of the branches1 but yet this will hardly distinguish the tree from an oak3 he will also render the color and intricacy of the foliage1 but this will only confuse the idea of an oak with that of a willow4 ,the fruit1 and the peculiar grace of the leaves at the extremities1 and the fibrous structure of the stems1 will all be too minute to be rendered consistently with his artistical feeling of breadth1 or with the amount of labor which he considers it dexterous and legitimate to bestow upon the work3 but1 above all1 the rounded and monotonous form of the head of the tree will be at variance with his ideas of composition2 he will assuredly disguise or break it1 and the main points of the olive-tree will all at last remain untold4 ,,xvi4 ,now observe1 the old ,byzantine mosaicist begins his work at enormous disadvantage4 ,it is to be some one hundred and fifty feet above the eye1 in a dark cupola2 executed not with free touches of the pencil1 but with square pieces of glass2 not by his own hand1 but by various workmen under his superintendence2 finally1 not with a principal purpose of drawing olive-trees1 but mainly as a decoration of the cupola4 ,there is to be an olive-tree beside each apostle1 and their stems are to be the chief lines which divide the dome4 ,he therefore at once gives up the irregular twisting of the boughs hither and thither1 but he will not give up their fibres4 ,other trees have irregular and fantastic branches1 but the knitted cordage of fibres is the olive's own4 ,again1 were he to draw the leaves of their natural size1 they would be so small that their forms would be invisible in the darkness2 and were he to draw them so large as that their shape might be seen1 they would look like laurel instead of olive4 ,so he arranges them in small clusters of five each1 nearly of the shape which the ,byzantines give to the petals of the lily1 but elongated so as to give the idea of leafage upon a spray2 and these clusters1--his object always1 be it remembered1 being decoration not less than representation1--he arranges symmetrically on each side of his branches1 laying the whole on a dark ground most truly suggestive of the heavy rounded mass of the tree1 which1 in its turn1 is relieved against the gold of the cupola4 ,lastly1 comes the question respecting the fruit4 ,the whole power and honor of the olive is in its fruit2 and1 unless that be represented1 nothing is represented4 ,but if the berries were colored black or green1 they would be totally invisible2 if of any other color1 utterly unnatural1 and violence would be done to the whole conception4 ,there is but one conceivable means of showing them1 namely to represent them as golden4 ,for the idea of golden fruit of various kinds was already familiar to the mind1 as in the apples of the ,hesperides1 without any violence to the distinctive conception of the fruit itself4#ea ,so the mosaicist introduced small round golden berries into the dark ground between each leaf1 and his work was done4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,iv4 ,mosaics of ,olive-tree and ,flowers4 ,,xvii4 ,on the opposite plate1 the uppermost figure on the left is a tolerably faithful representation of the general effect of one of these decorative olive-trees2 the figure on the right is the head of the tree alone1 showing the leaf clusters1 berries1 and interlacing of the boughs as they leave the stem4 ,each bough is connected with a separate line of fibre in the trunk1 and the junctions of the arms and stem are indicated1 down to the very root of the tree1 with a truth in structure which may well put to shame the tree anatomy of modern times4 ,,xviii4 ,the white branching figures upon the serpentine band below are two of the clusters of flowers which form the foreground of a mosaic in the atrium4 ,i have printed the whole plate in blue1 because that color approaches more nearly than black to the distant effect of the mosaics1 of which the darker portions are generally composed of blue1 in greater quantity than any other color4 ,but the waved background in this instance1 is of various shades of blue and green alternately1 with one narrow black band to give it force2 the whole being intended to represent the distant effect and color of deep grass1 and the wavy line to express its bending motion1 just as the same symbol is used to represent the waves of water4 ,then the two white clusters are representative of the distinctly visible herbage close to the spectator1 having buds and flowers of two kinds1 springing in one case out of the midst of twisted grass1 and in the other out of their own proper leaves2 the clusters being kept each so distinctly symmetrical1 as to form1 when set side by side1 an ornamental border of perfect architectural severity2 and yet each cluster different from the next1 and every flower1 and bud1 and knot of grass1 varied in form and thought4 ,the way the mosaic tesser are arranged1 so as to give the writhing of the grass blades round the stalks of the flowers1 is exceedingly fine4 ,the tree circles below are examples of still more severely conventional forms1 adopted1 on principle1 when the decoration is to be in white and gold1 instead of color2 these ornaments being cut in white marble on the outside of the church1 and the ground laid in with gold1 though necessarily here represented1 like the rest of the plate1 in blue4 ,and it is exceedingly interesting to see how the noble workman1 the moment he is restricted to more conventional materials1 retires into more conventional forms1 and reduces his various leafage into symmetry1 now nearly perfect2 yet observe1 in the central figure1 where the symbolic meaning of the vegetation beside the cross required it to be more distinctly indicated1 he has given it life and growth by throwing it into unequal curves on the opposite sides4 ,,xix4 ,i believe the reader will now see1 that in these mosaics1 which the careless traveller is in the habit of passing by with contempt1 there is a depth of feeling and of meaning greater than in most of the best sketches from nature of modern times2 and1 without entering into any question whether these conventional representations are as good as1 under the required limitations1 it was possible to render them1 they are at all events good enough completely to illustrate that mode of symbolical expression which appeals altogether to thought1 and in no wise trusts to realization4 ,and little as1 in the present state of our schools1 such an assertion is likely to be believed1 the fact is that this kind of expression is the only one allowable in noble art4 ,,xx4 ,i pray the reader to have patience with me for a few moments4 ,i do not mean that no art is noble but ,byzantine mosaic2 but no art is noble which in any wise depends upon direct imitation for its effect upon the mind4 ,this was asserted in the opening chapters of ,modern ,painters1 but not upon the highest grounds2 the results at which we have now arrived in our investigation of early art1 will enable me to place it on a loftier and firmer foundation4 ,,xxi4 ,we have just seen that all great art is the work of the whole living creature1 body and soul1 and chiefly of the soul4 ,but it is not only the work of the whole creature1 it likewise addresses the whole creature4 ,that in which the perfect being speaks1 must also have the perfect being to listen4 ,i am not to spend my utmost spirit1 and give all my strength and life to my work1 while you1 spectator or hearer1 will give me only the attention of half your soul4 ,you must be all mine1 as ,i am all yours2 it is the only condition on which we can meet each other4 ,all your faculties1 all that is in you of greatest and best1 must be awake in you1 or ,i have no reward4 ,the painter is not to cast the entire treasure of his human nature into his labor1 merely to please a part of the beholder3 not merely to delight his senses1 not merely to amuse his fancy1 not merely to beguile him into emotion1 not merely to lead him into thought1 but to do all this4 ,senses1 fancy1 feeling1 reason1 the whole of the beholding spirit1 must be stilled in attention or stirred with delight2 else the laboring spirit has not done its work well4 ,for observe1 it is not merely its right to be thus met1 face to face1 heart to heart2 but it is its duty to evoke its answering of the other soul2 its trumpet call must be so clear1 that though the challenge may by dulness or indolence be unanswered1 there shall be no error as to the meaning of the appeal2 there must be a summons in the work1 which it shall be our own fault if we do not obey4 ,we require this of it1 we beseech this of it4 ,most men do not know what is in them1 till they receive this summons from their fellows3 their hearts die within them1 sleep settles upon them1 the lethargy of the world's miasmata2 there is nothing for which they are so thankful as for that cry1 ,awake1 thou that sleepest4 ,and this cry must be most loudly uttered to their noblest faculties2 first of all to the imagination1 for that is the most tender1 and the soonest struck into numbness by the poisoned air2 so that one of the main functions of art in its service to man1 is to arouse the imagination from its palsy1 like the angel troubling the ,bethesda pool2 and the art which does not do this is false to its duty1 and degraded in its nature4 ,it is not enough that it be well imagined1 it must task the beholder also to imagine well2 and this so imperatively1 that if he does not choose to rouse himself to meet the work1 he shall not taste it1 nor enjoy it in any wise4 ,once that he is well awake1 the guidance which the artist gives him should be full and authoritative3 the beholder's imagination must not be suffered to take its own way1 or wander hither and thither2 but neither must it be left at rest2 and the right point of realization1 for any given work of art1 is that which will enable the spectator to complete it for himself1 in the exact way the artist would have him1 but not that which will save him the trouble of effecting the completion4 ,so soon as the idea is entirely conveyed1 the artist's labor should cease2 and every touch which he adds beyond the point when1 with the help of the beholder's imagination1 the story ought to have been told1 is a degradation to his work4 ,so that the art is wrong1 which either realizes its subject completely1 or fails in giving such definite aid as shall enable it to be realized by the beholding imagination4 ,,xxii4 ,it follows1 therefore1 that the quantity of finish or detail which may rightly be bestowed upon any work1 depends on the number and kind of ideas which the artist wishes to convey1 much more than on the amount of realization necessary to enable the imagination to grasp them4 ,it is true that the differences of judgment formed by one or another observer are in great degree dependent on their unequal imaginative powers1 as well as their unequal efforts in following the artist's intention2 and it constantly happens that the drawing which appears clear to the painter in whose mind the thought is formed1 is slightly inadequate to suggest it to the spectator4 ,these causes of false judgment1 or imperfect achievement1 must always exist1 but they are of no importance4 ,for1 in nearly every mind1 the imaginative power1 however unable to act independently1 is so easily helped and so brightly animated by the most obscure suggestion1 that there is no form of artistical language which will not readily be seized by it1 if once it set itself intelligently to the task2 and even without such effort there are few hieroglyphics of which1 once understanding that it is to take them as hieroglyphics1 it cannot make itself a pleasant picture4 ,,xxiii4 ,thus1 in the case of all sketches1 etchings1 unfinished engravings1 c41 no one ever supposes them to be imitations4 ,black outlines on white paper cannot produce a deceptive resemblance of anything2 and the mind1 understanding at once that it is to depend on its own powers for great part of its pleasure1 sets itself so actively to the task that it can completely enjoy the rudest outline in which meaning exists4 ,now1 when it is once in this temper1 the artist is infinitely to be blamed who insults it by putting anything into his work which is not suggestive3 having summoned the imaginative power1 he must turn it to account and keep it employed1 or it will run against him in indignation4 ,whatever he does merely to realize and substantiate an idea is impertinent2 he is like a dull story-teller1 dwelling on points which the hearer anticipates or disregards4 ,the imagination will say to him3 ,i knew all that before2 ,i don't want to be told that4 ,go on2 or be silent1 and let me go on in my own way4 ,i can tell the story better than you4 ,observe1 then1 whenever finish is given for the sake of realization1 it is wrong2 whenever it is given for the sake of adding ideas it is right4 ,all true finish consists in the addition of ideas1 that is to say1 in giving the imagination more food2 for once well awaked1 it is ravenous for food3 but the painter who finishes in order to substantiate takes the food out of its mouth1 and it will turn and rend him4 ,,xxiv4 ,let us go back1 for instance1 to our olive grove1--or1 lest the reader should be tired of olives1 let it be an oak copse1--and consider the difference between the substantiating and the imaginative methods of finish in such a subject4 ,a few strokes of the pencil1 or dashes of color1 will be enough to enable the imagination to conceive a tree2 and in those dashes of color ,sir ,joshua ,reynolds would have rested1 and would have suffered the imagination to paint what more it liked for itself1 and grow oaks1 or olives1 or apples1 out of the few dashes of color at its leisure4 ,on the other hand1 ,hobbima1 one of the worst of the realists1 smites the imagination on the mouth1 and bids it be silent1 while he sets to work to paint his oak of the right green1 and fill up its foliage laboriously with jagged touches1 and furrow the bark all over its branches1 so as1 if possible1 to deceive us into supposing that we are looking at a real oak2 which1 indeed1 we had much better do at once1 without giving any one the trouble to deceive us in the matter4 ,,xxv4 ,now1 the truly great artist neither leaves the imagination to itself1 like ,sir ,joshua1 nor insults it by realization1 like ,hobbima1 but finds it continual employment of the happiest kind4 ,having summoned it by his vigorous first touches1 he says to it3 ,here is a tree for you1 and it is to be an oak4 ,now ,i know that you can make it green and intricate for yourself1 but that is not enough3 an oak is not only green and intricate1 but its leaves have most beautiful and fantastic forms which ,i am very sure you are not quite able to complete without help2 so ,i will draw a cluster or two perfectly for you1 and then you can go on and do all the other clusters4 ,so far so good3 but the leaves are not enough2 the oak is to be full of acorns1 and you may not be quite able to imagine the way they grow1 nor the pretty contrast of their glossy almond-shaped nuts with the chasing of their cups2 so ,i will draw a bunch or two of acorns for you1 and you can fill up the oak with others like them4 ,good3 but that is not enough2 it is to be a bright day in summer1 and all the outside leaves are to be glittering in the sunshine as if their edges were of gold3 ,i cannot paint this1 but you can2 so ,i will really gild some of the edges nearest you1#eb and you can turn the gold into sunshine1 and cover the tree with it4 ,well done3 but still this is not enough2 the tree is so full foliaged and so old that the wood birds come in crowds to build there2 they are singing1 two or three under the shadow of every bough4 ,i cannot show you them all2 but here is a large one on the outside spray1 and you can fancy the others inside4 ,,xxvi4 ,in this way the calls upon the imagination are multiplied as a great painter finishes2 and from these larger incidents he may proceed into the most minute particulars1 and lead the companion imagination to the veins in the leaves and the mosses on the trunk1 and the shadows of the dead leaves upon the grass1 but always multiplying thoughts1 or subjects of thought1 never working for the sake of realization2 the amount of realization actually reached depending on his space1 his materials1 and the nature of the thoughts he wishes to suggest4 ,in the sculpture of an oak-tree1 introduced above an ,adoration of the ,magi on the tomb of the ,doge ,marco ,dolfino 7fourteenth century71 the sculptor has been content with a few leaves1 a single acorn1 and a bird2 while1 on the other hand1 ,millais' willow-tree with the robin1 in the background of his ,ophelia1 or the foreground of ,hunt's ,two ,gentlemen of ,verona1 carries the appeal to the imagination into particulars so multiplied and minute1 that the work nearly reaches realization4 ,but it does not matter how near realization the work may approach in its fulness1 or how far off it may remain in its slightness1 so long as realization is not the end proposed1 but the informing one spirit of the thoughts of another4 ,and in this greatness and simplicity of purpose all noble art is alike1 however slight its means1 or however perfect1 from the rudest mosaics of ,st4 ,mark's to the most tender finishing of the ,huguenot or the ,ophelia4 ,,xxvii4 ,only observe1 in this matter1 that a greater degree of realization is often allowed1 for the sake of color1 than would be right without it4 ,for there is not any distinction between the artists of the inferior and the nobler schools more definite than this2 that the first color for the sake of realization1 and the second realize for the sake of color4 ,i hope that1 in the fifth chapter1 enough has been said to show the nobility of color1 though it is a subject on which ,i would fain enlarge whenever ,i approach it3 for there is none that needs more to be insisted upon1 chiefly on account of the opposition of the persons who have no eye for color1 and who1 being therefore unable to understand that it is just as divine and distinct in its power as music 7only infinitely more varied in its harmonies71 talk of it as if it were inferior and servile with respect to the other powers of art2#ec whereas it is so far from being this1 that wherever it enters it must take the mastery1 and1 whatever else is sacrificed for its sake1 it1 at least1 must be right4 ,this is partly the case even with music3 it is at our choice1 whether we will accompany a poem with music1 or not2 but1 if we do1 the music must be right1 and neither discordant nor inexpressive4 ,the goodness and sweetness of the poem cannot save it1 if the music be harsh or false2 but1 if the music be right1 the poem may be insipid or inharmonious1 and still saved by the notes to which it is wedded4 ,but this is far more true of color4 ,if that be wrong1 all is wrong4 ,no amount of expression or invention can redeem an ill-colored picture2 while1 on the other hand1 if the color be right1 there is nothing it will not raise or redeem2 and1 therefore1 wherever color enters at all1 anything may be sacrificed to it1 and1 rather than it should be false or feeble1 everything must be sacrificed to it3 so that1 when an artist touches color1 it is the same thing as when a poet takes up a musical instrument2 he implies1 in so doing1 that he is a master1 up to a certain point1 of that instrument1 and can produce sweet sound from it1 and is able to fit the course and measure of his words to its tones1 which1 if he be not able to do1 he had better not have touched it4 ,in like manner1 to add color to a drawing is to undertake for the perfection of a visible music1 which1 if it be false1 will utterly and assuredly mar the whole work2 if true1 proportionately elevate it1 according to its power and sweetness4 ,but1 in no case ought the color to be added in order to increase the realization4 ,the drawing or engraving is all that the imagination needs4 ,to paint the subject merely to make it more real1 is only to insult the imaginative power and to vulgarize the whole4 ,hence the common1 though little understood feeling1 among men of ordinary cultivation1 that an inferior sketch is always better than a bad painting2 although1 in the latter1 there may verily be more skill than in the former4 ,for the painter who has presumed to touch color without perfectly understanding it1 not for the color's sake1 nor because he loves it1 but for the sake of completion merely1 has committed two sins against us2 he has dulled the imagination by not trusting it far enough1 and then1 in this languid state1 he oppresses it with base and false color2 for all color that is not lovely1 is discordant2 there is no mediate condition4 ,so1 therefore1 when it is permitted to enter at all1 it must be with the predetermination that1 cost what it will1 the color shall be right and lovely3 and ,i only wish that1 in general1 it were better understood that a painter's business is to paint1 primarily2 and that all expression1 and grouping1 and conceiving1 and what else goes to constitute design1 are of less importance than color1 in a colored work4 ,and so they were always considered in the noble periods2 and sometimes all resemblance to nature whatever 7as in painted windows1 illuminated manuscripts1 and such other work7 is sacrificed to the brilliancy of color2 sometimes distinctness of form to its richness1 as by ,titian1 ,turner1 and ,reynolds2 and1 which is the point on which we are at present insisting1 sometimes1 in the pursuit of its utmost refinements on the surfaces of objects1 an amount of realization becomes consistent with noble art1 which would otherwise be altogether inadmissible1 that is to say1 which no great mind could otherwise have either produced or enjoyed4 ,the extreme finish given by the ,pre-,raphaelites is rendered noble chiefly by their love of color4 ,,xxviii4 ,so then1 whatever may be the means1 or whatever the more immediate end of any kind of art1 all of it that is good agrees in this1 that it is the expression of one soul talking to another1 and is precious according to the greatness of the soul that utters it4 ,and consider what mighty consequences follow from our acceptance of this truth6 what a key we have herein given us for the interpretation of the art of all time6 ,for1 as long as we held art to consist in any high manual skill1 or successful imitation of natural objects1 or any scientific and legalized manner of performance whatever1 it was necessary for us to limit our admiration to narrow periods and to few men4 ,according to our own knowledge and sympathies1 the period chosen might be different1 and our rest might be in ,greek statues1 or ,dutch landscapes1 or ,italian ,madonnas2 but1 whatever our choice1 we were therein captive1 barred from all reverence but of our favorite masters1 and habitually using the language of contempt towards the whole of the human race to whom it had not pleased ,heaven to reveal the arcana of the particular craftsmanship we admired1 and who1 it might be1 had lived their term of seventy years upon the earth1 and fitted themselves therein for the eternal world1 without any clear understanding1 sometimes even with an insolent disregard1 of the laws of perspective and chiaroscuro4 ,but let us once comprehend the holier nature of the art of man1 and begin to look for the meaning of the spirit1 however syllabled1 and the scene is changed2 and we are changed also4 ,those small and dexterous creatures whom once we worshipped1 those fur-capped divinities with sceptres of camel's hair1 peering and poring in their one-windowed chambers over the minute preciousness of the labored canvas2 how are they swept away and crushed into unnoticeable darkness6 ,and in their stead1 as the walls of the dismal rooms that enclosed them1 and us1 are struck by the four winds of ,heaven1 and rent away1 and as the world opens to our sight1 lo6 far back into all the depths of time1 and forth from all the fields that have been sown with human life1 how the harvest of the dragon's teeth is springing6 how the companies of the gods are ascending out of the earth6 ,the dark stones that have so long been the sepulchres of the thoughts of nations1 and the forgotten ruins wherein their faith lay charnelled1 give up the dead that were in them2 and beneath the ,egyptian ranks of sultry and silent rock1 and amidst the dim golden lights of the ,byzantine dome1 and out of the confused and cold shadows of the ,northern cloister1 behold1 the multitudinous souls come forth with singing1 gazing on us with the soft eyes of newly comprehended sympathy1 and stretching their white arms to us across the grave1 in the solemn gladness of everlasting brotherhood4 ,,xxix4 ,the other danger to which1 it was above said1 we were primarily exposed under our present circumstances of life1 is the pursuit of vain pleasure1 that is to say1 false pleasure2 delight1 which is not indeed delight2 as knowledge vainly accumulated1 is not indeed knowledge4 ,and this we are exposed to chiefly in the fact of our ceasing to be children4 ,for the child does not seek false pleasure2 its pleasures are true1 simple1 and instinctive3 but the youth is apt to abandon his early and true delight for vanities1--seeking to be like men1 and sacrificing his natural and pure enjoyments to his pride4 ,in like manner1 it seems to me that modern civilization sacrifices much pure and true pleasure to various forms of ostentation from which it can receive no fruit4 ,consider1 for a moment1 what kind of pleasures are open to human nature1 undiseased4 ,passing by the consideration of the pleasures of the higher affections1 which lie at the root of everything1 and considering the definite and practical pleasures of daily life1 there is1 first1 the pleasure of doing good2 the greatest of all1 only apt to be despised from not being often enough tasted3 and then1 ,i know not in what order to put them1 nor does it matter1--the pleasure of gaining knowledge2 the pleasure of the excitement of imagination and emotion 7or poetry and passion72 and1 lastly1 the gratification of the senses1 first of the eye1 then of the ear1 and then of the others in their order4 ,,xxx4 ,all these we are apt to make subservient to the desire of praise2 nor unwisely1 when the praise sought is ,god's and the conscience's3 but if the sacrifice is made for man's admiration1 and knowledge is only sought for praise1 passion repressed or affected for praise1 and the arts practised for praise1 we are feeding on the bitterest apples of ,sodom1 suffering always ten mortifications for one delight4 ,and it seems to me1 that in the modern civilized world we make such sacrifice doubly3 first1 by laboring for merely ambitious purposes2 and secondly1 which is the main point in question1 by being ashamed of simple pleasures1 more especially of the pleasure in sweet color and form1 a pleasure evidently so necessary to man's perfectness and virtue1 that the beauty of color and form has been given lavishly throughout the whole of creation1 so that it may become the food of all1 and with such intricacy and subtlety that it may deeply employ the thoughts of all4 ,if we refuse to accept the natural delight which the ,deity has thus provided for us1 we must either become ascetics1 or we must seek for some base and guilty pleasures to replace those of ,paradise1 which we have denied ourselves4 ,some years ago1 in passing through some of the cells of the ,grand ,chartreuse1 noticing that the window of each apartment looked across the little garden of its inhabitant to the wall of the cell opposite1 and commanded no other view1 ,i asked the monk beside me1 why the window was not rather made on the side of the cell whence it would open to the solemn fields of the ,alpine valley4 ,we do not come here1 he replied1 to look at the mountains4 ,,xxxi4 ,the same answer is given1 practically1 by the men of this century1 to every such question2 only the walls with which they enclose themselves are those of pride1 not of prayer4 ,but in the middle ages it was otherwise4 ,not1 indeed1 in landscape itself1 but in the art which can take the place of it1 in the noble color and form with which they illumined1 and into which they wrought1 every object around them that was in any wise subjected to their power1 they obeyed the laws of their inner nature1 and found its proper food4 ,the splendor and fantasy even of dress1 which in these days we pretend to despise1 or in which1 if we even indulge1 it is only for the sake of vanity1 and therefore to our infinite harm1 were in those early days studied for love of their true beauty and honorableness1 and became one of the main helps to dignity of character1 and courtesy of bearing4 ,look back to what we have been told of the dress of the early ,venetians1 that it was so invented that in clothing themselves with it1 they might clothe themselves also with modesty and honor2#ed consider what nobleness of expression there is in the dress of any of the portrait figures of the great times1 nay1 what perfect beauty1 and more than beauty1 there is in the folding of the robe round the imagined form even of the saint or of the angel2 and then consider whether the grace of vesture be indeed a thing to be despised4 ,we cannot despise it if we would2 and in all our highest poetry and happiest thought we cling to the magnificence which in daily life we disregard4 ,the essence of modern romance is simply the return of the heart and fancy to the things in which they naturally take pleasure2 and half the influence of the best romances1 of ,ivanhoe1 or ,marmion1 or the ,crusaders1 or the ,lady of the ,lake1 is completely dependent upon the accessaries of armor and costume4 ,nay1 more than this1 deprive the ,iliad itself of its costume1 and consider how much of its power would be lost4 ,and that delight and reverence which we feel in1 and by means of1 the mere imagination of these accessaries1 the middle ages had in the vision of them2 the nobleness of dress exercising1 as ,i have said1 a perpetual influence upon character1 tending in a thousand ways to increase dignity and self-respect1 and together with grace of gesture1 to induce serenity of thought4 ,,xxxii4 ,i do not mean merely in its magnificence2 the most splendid time was not the best time4 ,it was still in the thirteenth century1--when1 as we have seen1 simplicity and gorgeousness were justly mingled1 and the leathern girdle and clasp of bone were worn1 as well as the embroidered mantle1--that the manner of dress seems to have been noblest4 ,the chain mail of the knight1 flowing and falling over his form in lapping waves of gloomy strength1 was worn under full robes of one color in the ground1 his crest quartered on them1 and their borders enriched with subtle illumination4 ,the women wore first a dress close to the form in like manner1 and then long and flowing robes1 veiling them up to the neck1 and delicately embroidered around the hem1 the sleeves1 and the girdle4 ,the use of plate armor gradually introduced more fantastic types2 the nobleness of the form was lost beneath the steel2 the gradually increasing luxury and vanity of the age strove for continual excitement in more quaint and extravagant devices2 and in the fifteenth century1 dress reached its point of utmost splendor and fancy1 being in many cases still exquisitely graceful1 but now1 in its morbid magnificence1 devoid of all wholesome influence on manners4 ,from this point1 like architecture1 it was rapidly degraded2 and sank through the buff coat1 and lace collar1 and jack-boot1 to the bag-wig1 tailed coat1 and high-heeled shoes2 and so to what it is now4 ,,xxxiii4 ,precisely analogous to this destruction of beauty in dress1 has been that of beauty in architecture2 its color1 and grace1 and fancy1 being gradually sacrificed to the base forms of the ,renaissance1 exactly as the splendor of chivalry has faded into the paltriness of fashion4 ,and observe the form in which the necessary reaction has taken place2 necessary1 for it was not possible that one of the strongest instincts of the human race could be deprived altogether of its natural food4 ,exactly in the degree that the architect withdrew from his buildings the sources of delight which in early days they had so richly possessed1 demanding1 in accordance with the new principles of taste1 the banishment of all happy color and healthy invention1 in that degree the minds of men began to turn to landscape as their only resource4 ,the picturesque school of art rose up to address those capacities of enjoyment for which1 in sculpture1 architecture1 or the higher walks of painting1 there was employment no more2 and the shadows of ,rembrandt1 and savageness of ,salvator1 arrested the admiration which was no longer permitted to be rendered to the gloom or the grotesqueness of the ,gothic aisle4 ,and thus the ,english school of landscape1 culminating in ,turner1 is in reality nothing else than a healthy effort to fill the void which the destruction of ,gothic architecture has left4 ,,xxxiv4 ,but the void cannot thus be completely filled2 no1 nor filled in any considerable degree4 ,the art of landscape-painting will never become thoroughly interesting or sufficing to the minds of men engaged in active life1 or concerned principally with practical subjects4 ,the sentiment and imagination necessary to enter fully into the romantic forms of art are chiefly the characteristics of youth2 so that nearly all men as they advance in years1 and some even from their childhood upwards1 must be appealed to1 if at all1 by a direct and substantial art1 brought before their daily observation and connected with their daily interests4 ,no form of art answers these conditions so well as architecture1 which1 as it can receive help from every character of mind in the workman1 can address every character of mind in the spectator2 forcing itself into notice even in his most languid moments1 and possessing this chief and peculiar advantage1 that it is the property of all men4 ,pictures and statues may be jealously withdrawn by their possessors from the public gaze1 and to a certain degree their safety requires them to be so withdrawn2 but the outsides of our houses belong not so much to us as to the passer-by1 and whatever cost and pains we bestow upon them1 though too often arising out of ostentation1 have at least the effect of benevolence4 ,,xxxv4 ,if1 then1 considering these things1 any of my readers should determine1 according to their means1 to set themselves to the revival of a healthy school of architecture in ,england1 and wish to know in few words how this may be done1 the answer is clear and simple4 ,first1 let us cast out utterly whatever is connected with the ,greek1 ,roman1 or ,renaissance architecture1 in principle or in form4 ,we have seen above1 that the whole mass of the architecture1 founded on ,greek and ,roman models1 which we have been in the habit of building for the last three centuries1 is utterly devoid of all life1 virtue1 honorableness1 or power of doing good4 ,it is base1 unnatural1 unfruitful1 unenjoyable1 and impious4 ,pagan in its origin1 proud and unholy in its revival1 paralyzed in its old age1 yet making prey in its dotage of all the good and living things that were springing around it in their youth1 as the dying and desperate king1 who had long fenced himself so strongly with the towers of it1 is said to have filled his failing veins with the blood of children2#ee an architecture invented1 as it seems1 to make plagiarists of its architects1 slaves of its workmen1 and ,sybarites of its inhabitants2 an architecture in which intellect is idle1 invention impossible1 but in which all luxury is gratified1 and all insolence fortified2--the first thing we have to do is to cast it out1 and shake the dust of it from our feet for ever4 ,whatever has any connexion with the five orders1 or with any one of the orders1--whatever is ,doric1 or ,ionic1 or ,tuscan1 or ,corinthian1 or ,composite1 or in any way ,grecized or ,romanized2 whatever betrays the smallest respect for ,vitruvian laws1 or conformity with ,palladian work1--that we are to endure no more4 ,to cleanse ourselves of these cast clouts and rotten rags is the first thing to be done in the court of our prison4 ,,xxxvi4 ,then1 to turn our prison into a palace is an easy thing4 ,we have seen above1 that exactly in the degree in which ,greek and ,roman architecture is lifeless1 unprofitable1 and unchristian1 in that same degree our own ancient ,gothic is animated1 serviceable1 and faithful4 ,we have seen that it is flexible to all duty1 enduring to all time1 instructive to all hearts1 honorable and holy in all offices4 ,it is capable alike of all lowliness and all dignity1 fit alike for cottage porch or castle gateway2 in domestic service familiar1 in religious1 sublime2 simple1 and playful1 so that childhood may read it1 yet clothed with a power that can awe the mightiest1 and exalt the loftiest of human spirits3 an architecture that kindles every faculty in its workman1 and addresses every emotion in its beholder2 which1 with every stone that is laid on its solemn walls1 raises some human heart a step nearer heaven1 and which from its birth has been incorporated with the existence1 and in all its form is symbolical of the faith1 of ,christianity4 ,in this architecture let us henceforward build1 alike the church1 the palace1 and the cottage2 but chiefly let us use it for our civil and domestic buildings4 ,these once ennobled1 our ecclesiastical work will be exalted together with them3 but churches are not the proper scenes for experiments in untried architecture1 nor for exhibitions of unaccustomed beauty4 ,it is certain that we must often fail before we can again build a natural and noble ,gothic3 let not our temples be the scenes of our failures4 ,it is certain that we must offend many deep-rooted prejudices1 before ancient ,christian architecture#ef can be again received by all of us3 let not religion be the first source of such offence4 ,we shall meet with difficulties in applying ,gothic architecture to churches1 which would in no wise affect the designs of civil buildings1 for the most beautiful forms of ,gothic chapels are not those which are best fitted for ,protestant worship4 ,as it was noticed in the second volume1 when speaking of the ,cathedral of ,torcello it seems not unlikely1 that as we study either the science of sound1 or the practice of the early ,christians1 we may see reason to place the pulpit generally at the extremity of the apse or chancel2 an arrangement entirely destructive of the beauty of a ,gothic church1 as seen in existing examples1 and requiring modifications of its design in other parts with which we should be unwise at present to embarrass ourselves2 besides1 that the effort to introduce the style exclusively for ecclesiastical purposes1 excites against it the strong prejudices of many persons who might otherwise be easily enlisted among its most ardent advocates4 ,i am quite sure1 for instance1 that if such noble architecture as has been employed for the interior of the church just built in ,margaret ,street#eg had been seen in a civil building1 it would have decided the question with many men at once2 whereas1 at present1 it will be looked upon with fear and suspicion1 as the expression of the ecclesiastical principles of a particular party4 ,but1 whether thus regarded or not1 this church assuredly decides one question conclusively1 that of our present capability of ,gothic design4 ,it is the first piece of architecture ,i have seen1 built in modern days1 which is free from all signs of timidity or incapacity4 ,in general proportion of parts1 in refinement and piquancy of mouldings1 above all1 in force1 vitality1 and grace of floral ornament1 worked in a broad and masculine manner1 it challenges fearless comparison with the noblest work of any time4 ,having done this1 we may do anything2 there need be no limits to our hope or our confidence2 and ,i believe it to be possible for us1 not only to equal1 but far to surpass1 in some respects1 any ,gothic yet seen in ,northern countries4 ,in the introduction of figure-sculpture1 we must1 indeed1 for the present1 remain utterly inferior1 for we have no figures to study from4 ,no architectural sculpture was ever good for anything which did not represent the dress and persons of the people living at the time2 and our modern dress will not form decorations for spandrils and niches4 ,but in floral sculpture we may go far beyond what has yet been done1 as well as in refinement of inlaid work and general execution4 ,for1 although the glory of ,gothic architecture is to receive the rudest work1 it refuses not the best2 and1 when once we have been content to admit the handling of the simplest workman1 we shall soon be rewarded by finding many of our simple workmen become cunning ones3 and1 with the help of modern wealth and science1 we may do things like ,giotto's campanile1 instead of like our own rude cathedrals2 but better than ,giotto's campanile1 insomuch as we may adopt the pure and perfect forms of the ,northern ,gothic1 and work them out with the ,italian refinement4 ,it is hardly possible at present to imagine what may be the splendor of buildings designed in the forms of ,english and ,french thirteenth century surface ,gothic1 and wrought out with the refinement of ,italian art in the details1 and with a deliberate resolution1 since we cannot have figure sculpture1 to display in them the beauty of every flower and herb of the ,english fields1 each by each2 doing as much for every tree that roots itself in our rocks1 and every blossom that drinks our summer rains1 as our ancestors did for the oak1 the ivy1 and the rose4 ,let this be the object of our ambition1 and let us begin to approach it1 not ambitiously1 but in all humility1 accepting help from the feeblest hands2 and the ,london of the nineteenth century may yet become as ,venice without her despotism1 and as ,florence without her dispeace4 ,,footnotes3 #df ,in the works of ,turner and the ,pre-,raphaelites4 #dg ,observe1 ,i speak of these various principles as self-evident1 only under the present circumstances of the world1 not as if they had always been so2 and ,i call them now self-evident1 not merely because they seem so to myself1 but because they are felt to be so likewise by all the men in whom ,i place most trust4 ,but granting that they are not so1 then their very disputability proves the state of infancy above alleged1 as characteristic of the world4 ,for ,i do not suppose that any ,christian reader will doubt the first great truth1 that whatever facts or laws are important to mankind1 ,god has made ascertainable by mankind2 and that as the decision of all these questions is of vital importance to the race1 that decision must have been long ago arrived at1 unless they were still in a state of childhood4 #dh ,i intended to have given a sketch in this place 7above referred to7 of the probable results of the daguerreotype and calotype within the next few years1 in modifying the application of the engraver's art1 but ,i have not had time to complete the experiments necessary to enable me to speak with certainty4 ,of one thing1 however1 ,i have little doubt1 that an infinite service will soon be done to a large body of our engravers2 namely1 the making them draughtsmen 7in black and white7 on paper instead of steel4 #di ,i mean art in its highest sense4 ,all that men do ingeniously is art1 in one sense4 ,in fact1 we want a definition of the word art much more accurate than any in our minds at present4 ,for1 strictly speaking1 there is no such thing as fine or high art4 ,all art is a low and common thing1 and what we indeed respect is not art at all1 but instinct or inspiration expressed by the help of art4 #ej ,socrates4 ,this1 then1 was what ,i asked you2 whether that which puts anything else to service1 and the thing which is put to service by it1 are always two different things8 ,alcibiades4 ,i think so4 ,socrates4 ,what shall we then say of the leather-cutter8 ,does he cut his leather with his instruments only1 or with his hands also8 ,alcibiades4 ,with his hands also4 ,socrates4 ,does he not use his eyes as well as his hands8 ,alcibiades4 ,yes4 ,socrates4 ,and we agreed that the thing which uses and the thing which is used1 were different things8 ,alcibiades4 ,yes4 ,socrates4 ,then the leather-cutter is not the same thing as his eyes or hands8 ,alcibiades4 ,so it appears4 ,socrates4 ,does not1 then1 man make use of his whole body8 ,alcibiades4 ,assuredly4 ,socrates4 ,then the man is not the same thing as his body8 ,alcibiades4 ,it seems so4 ,socrates4 ,what1 then1 is the man8 ,alcibiades4 ,i know not4 ,plato1 ,alcibiades ,i4 #ea ,thus the grapes pressed by ,excesse are partly golden 7,spenser1 book ii4 cant4 #ab473 ,which did themselves amongst the leaves enfold1 ,as lurking from the view of covetous guest1 ,that the weake boughes1 with so rich load opprest ,did bow adowne as overburdened4 #eb ,the reader must not suppose that the use of gold1 in this manner1 is confined to early art4 ,tintoret1 the greatest master of pictorial effect that ever existed1 has gilded the ribs of the fig-leaves in his ,resurrection1 in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco4 #ec ,nothing is more wonderful to me than to hear the pleasure of the eye1 in color1 spoken of with disdain as sensual1 while people exalt that of the ear in music4 ,do they really suppose the eye is a less noble bodily organ than the ear1--that the organ by which nearly all our knowledge of the external universe is communicated to us1 and through which we learn the wonder and the love1 can be less exalted in its own peculiar delight than the ear1 which is only for the communication of the ideas which owe to the eye their very existence8 ,i do not mean to depreciate music3 let it be loved and reverenced as is just2 only let the delight of the eye be reverenced more4 ,the great power of music over the multitude is owing1 not to its being less but more sensual than color2 it is so distinctly and so richly sensual1 that it can be idly enjoyed2 it is exactly at the point where the lower and higher pleasures of the senses and imagination are balanced2 so that pure and great minds love it for its invention and emotion1 and lower minds for its sensual power4 #ed ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,appendix #g4 #ee ,louis the ,eleventh4 ,in the month of ,march1 #adha1 ,louis was seized with a fit of apoplexy at ,st4 ,bnoit-du-lac-mort1 near ,chinon4 ,he remained speechless and bereft of reason three days2 and then but very imperfectly restored1 he languished in a miserable state4444 ,to cure him1 says a contemporary historian1 wonderful and terrible medicines were compounded4 ,it was reported among the people that his physicians opened the veins of little children1 and made him drink their blood1 to correct the poorness of his own4--,bussey's ,history of ,france4 ,london1 #ahej4 #ef ,observe1 ,i call ,gothic ,christian architecture1 not ecclesiastical4 ,there is a wide difference4 ,i believe it is the only architecture which ,christian men should build1 but not at all an architecture necessarily connected with the services of their church4 #eg ,mr4 ,hope's ,church1 in ,margaret ,street1 ,portland ,place4 ,i do not altogether like the arrangements of color in the brickwork2 but these will hardly attract the eye1 where so much has been already done with precious and beautiful marble1 and is yet to be done in fresco4 ,much will depend1 however1 upon the coloring of this latter portion4 ,i wish that either ,holman ,hunt or ,millais could be prevailed upon to do at least some of these smaller frescoes4 ,,appendix4 #a4 ,,architect ,,of ,,the ,,ducal ,,palace4 ,popular tradition and a large number of the chroniclers ascribe the building of the ,ducal ,palace to that ,filippo ,calendario who suffered death for his share in the conspiracy of ,faliero4 ,he was certainly one of the leading architects of the time1 and had for several years the superintendence of the works of the ,palace2 but it appears1 from the documents collected by the ,abb ,cadorin1 that the first designer of the ,palace1 the man to whom we owe the adaptation of the ,frari traceries to civil architecture1 was ,pietro ,baseggio1 who is spoken of expressly as formerly the ,chief ,master of our ,new ,palace1#eh in the decree of #acfa1 quoted by ,cadorin1 and who1 at his death1 left ,calendario his executor4 ,other documents collected by ,zanotto1 in his work on ,venezia e le sue ,lagune1 show that ,calendario was for a long time at sea1 under the commands of the ,signory1 returning to ,venice only three or four years before his death2 and that therefore the entire management of the works of the ,palace1 in the most important period1 must have been entrusted to ,baseggio4 ,it is quite impossible1 however1 in the present state of the ,palace1 to distinguish one architect's work from another in the older parts2 and ,i have not in the text embarrassed the reader by any attempt at close definition of epochs before the great junction of the ,piazzetta ,faade with the older palace in the fifteenth century4 ,here1 however1 it is necessary that ,i should briefly state the observations ,i was able to make on the relative dates of the earlier portions4 ,in the description of the ,fig-tree angle1 given in the eighth chapter of ,vol4 ,,ii41 ,i said that it seemed to me somewhat earlier than that of the ,vine1 and the reader might be surprised at the apparent opposition of this statement to my supposition that the ,palace was built gradually round from the ,rio ,faade to the ,piazzetta4 ,but in the two great open arcades there is no succession of work traceable2 from the ,vine angle to the junction with the fifteenth century work1 above and below1 all seems nearly of the same date1 the only question being of the accidental precedence of workmanship of one capital or another2 and ,i think1 from its style1 that the ,fig-tree angle must have been first completed4 ,but in the upper stories of the ,palace there are enormous differences of style4 ,on the ,rio ,faade1 in the upper story1 are several series of massive windows of the third order1 corresponding exactly in mouldings and manner of workmanship to those of the chapter-house of the ,frari1 and consequently carrying us back to a very early date in the fourteenth century3 several of the capitals of these windows1 and two richly sculptured string-courses in the wall below1 are of ,byzantine workmanship1 and in all probability fragments of the ,ziani ,palace4 ,the traceried windows on the ,rio ,faade1 and the two eastern windows on the ,sea ,faade1 are all of the finest early fourteenth century work1 masculine and noble in their capitals and bases to the highest degree1 and evidently contemporary with the very earliest portions of the lower arcades4 ,but the moment we come to the windows of the ,great ,council ,chamber the style is debased4 ,the mouldings are the same1 but they are coarsely worked1 and the heads set amidst the leafage of the capitals quite valueless and vile4 ,i have not the least doubt that these window-jambs and traceries were restored after the great fire2#ei and various other restorations have taken place since1 beginning with the removal of the traceries from all the windows except the northern one of the ,sala del ,scrutinio1 behind the ,porta della ,carta1 where they are still left4 ,i made out four periods of restoration among these windows1 each baser than the preceding4 ,it is not worth troubling the reader about them1 but the traveller who is interested in the subject may compare two of them in the same window2 the one nearer the sea of the two belonging to the little room at the top of the ,palace on the ,piazzetta ,faade1 between the ,sala del ,gran ,consiglio and that of the ,scrutinio4 ,the seaward jamb of that window is of the first1 and the opposite jamb of the second1 period of these restorations4 ,these are all the points of separation in date which ,i could discover by internal evidence4 ,but much more might be made out by any ,venetian antiquary whose time permitted him thoroughly to examine any existing documents which allude to or describe the parts of the ,palace spoken of in the important decrees of #acdj1 #acdb1 and #acdd2 for the first of these decrees speaks of certain columns looking towards the ,canal#fj or sea1 as then existing1 and ,i presume these columns to have been part of the ,ziani ,palace1 corresponding to the part of that palace on the ,piazzetta where were the red columns between which ,calendario was executed2 and a great deal more might be determined by any one who would thoroughly unravel the obscure language of those decrees4 ,meantime1 in order to complete the evidence respecting the main dates stated in the text1 ,i have collected here such notices of the building of the ,ducal ,palace as appeared to me of most importance in the various chronicles ,i examined4 ,i could not give them all in the text1 as they repeat each other1 and would have been tedious2 but they will be interesting to the antiquary1 and it is to be especially noted in all of them how the ,palazzo ,vecchio is invariably distinguished1 either directly or by implication1 from the ,palazzo ,nuovo4 ,i shall first translate the piece of the ,zancarol ,chronicle given by ,cadorin1 which has chiefly misled the ,venetian antiquaries4 ,i wish ,i could put the rich old ,italian into old ,english1 but must be content to lose its raciness1 as it is necessary that the reader should be fully acquainted with its facts4 ,it was decreed that none should dare to propose to the ,signory of ,venice to ruin the old palace and rebuild it new and more richly1 and there was a penalty of one thousand ducats against any one who should break it4 ,then the ,doge1 wishing to set forward the public good1 said to the ,signory1 444 that they ought to rebuild the faades of the old palace1 and that it ought to be restored1 to do honor to the nation3 and so soon as he had done speaking1 the ,avogadori demanded the penalty from the ,doge1 for having disobeyed the law2 and the ,doge with ready mind paid it1 remaining in his opinion that the said fabric ought to be built4 ,and so1 in the year #adbb1 on the #bjth day of ,september1 it was passed in the ,council of the ,pregadi that the said new palace should be begun1 and the expense should be borne by the ,signori del ,sal2 and so1 on the #bdth day of ,march1 #adbd1 it was begun to throw down the old palace1 and to build it anew4--,cadorin1 p4 #abi4 ,the day of the month1 and the council in which the decree was passed1 are erroneously given by this ,chronicle4 ,cadorin has printed the words of the decree itself1 which passed in the ,great ,council on the #bgth ,september3 and these words are1 fortunately1 much to our present purpose4 ,for as more than one faade is spoken of in the above extract1 the ,marchese ,selvatico was induced to believe that both the front to the sea and that to the ,piazzetta had been destroyed2 whereas1 the faades spoken of are evidently those of the ,ziani ,palace4 ,for the words of the decree 7which are much more trustworthy than those of the ,chronicle1 even if there were any inconsistency between them7 run thus3 ,palatium nostrum fabricetur et fiat in forma decora et convenienti1 quod respondeat solemnissimo principio palatii nostri novi4 ,thus the new council chamber and faade to the sea are called the most venerable beginning of our ,new ,palace2 and the rest was ordered to be designed in accordance with these1 as was actually the case as far as the ,porta della ,carta4 ,but the ,renaissance architects who thenceforward proceeded with the fabric1 broke through the design1 and built everything else according to their own humors4 ,the question may be considered as set at rest by these words of the decree1 even without any internal or any farther documentary evidence4 ,but rather for the sake of impressing the facts thoroughly on the reader's mind1 than of any additional proof1 ,i shall quote a few more of the best accredited ,chronicles4 ,the passage given by ,bettio1 from the ,sivos ,chronicle1 is a very important parallel with that from the ,zancarol above3 ,essendo molto vecchio1 e quasi rovinoso el ,palazzo sopra la piazza1 fo deliberato di far quella parte tutta da novo1 et continuarla com' quella della ,sala grande1 et cosi il ,lunedi #bg ,marzo #adbd fu dato principio a ruinare detto ,palazzo vecchio dalla parte1 ch' verso panateria cio della ,giustizia1 ch' nelli occhi di sopra le colonne fino alla ,chiesa et fo fatto anco la porta grande1 com' al presente1 con la sala che si addimanda la ,libraria4#fa ,we have here all the facts told us in so many words3 the old palace is definitely stated to have been on the piazza1 and it is to be rebuilt like the part of the great saloon4 ,the very point from which the newer buildings commenced is told us2 but here the chronicler has carried his attempt at accuracy too far4 ,the point of junction is1 as stated above1 at the third pillar beyond the medallion of ,venice2 and ,i am much at a loss to understand what could have been the disposition of these three pillars where they joined the ,ziani ,palace1 and how they were connected with the arcade of the inner cortile4 ,but with these difficulties1 as they do not bear on the immediate question1 it is of no use to trouble the reader4 ,the next passage ,i shall give is from a ,chronicle in the ,marcian ,library1 bearing title1 ,supposta di ,zancaruol2 but in which ,i could not find the passage given by ,cadorin from1 ,i believe1 a manuscript of this ,chronicle at ,vienna4 ,there occurs instead of it the following thus headed3-- ,come la parte nova del ,palazzo fuo hedificata novamente4 ,el ,palazzo novo de ,venesia quella parte che xe verso la ,chiesia de ,s4 ,marcho fuo prexo chel se fesse del #adbb e fosse pagado la spexa per li officiali del sal4 ,e fuo fatto per sovrastante ,g4 ,nicolo ,barberigo cum provision de ducati ,x doro al mexe e fuo fabricado e fatto nobelissimo4 ,come fin ancho di el sta e fuo grande honor a la ,signoria de ,venesia e a la sua ,citta4 ,this entry1 which itself bears no date1 but comes between others dated #bbnd ,july and #bgth ,december1 is interesting1 because it shows the first transition of the idea of newness1 from the ,grand ,council ,chamber to the part built under ,foscari4 ,for when ,mocenigo's wishes had been fulfilled1 and the old palace of ,ziani had been destroyed1 and another built in its stead1 the ,great ,council ,chamber1 which was the new palace compared with ,ziani's1 became the old palace compared with ,foscari's2 and thus we have1 in the body of the above extract1 the whole building called the new palace of ,venice2 but in the heading of it1 we have the new part of the palace applied to the part built by ,foscari1 in contradistinction to the ,council ,chamber4 ,the next entry ,i give is important1 because the writing of the ,,ms4 in which it occurs1 ,no4 #ec in the ,correr ,museum1 shows it to be probably not later than the end of the fifteenth century3 ,el palazo nuovo de ,venixia zoe quella parte che se sora la piazza verso la giesia di ,miss4 ,san ,marcho del #adbb fo principiado1 el qual fo fato e finito molto belo1 chome al presente se vede nobilissimo1 et a la fabricha de quello fo deputado ,miss4 ,nicolo ,barberigo1 soprastante con ducati dieci doro al mexe4 ,we have here the part built by ,foscari distinctly called the ,palazzo ,nuovo1 as opposed to the ,great ,council ,chamber1 which had now completely taken the position of the ,palazzo ,vecchio1 and is actually so called by ,sansovino4 ,in the copy of the ,chronicle of ,paolo ,morosini1 and in the ,,mss4 numbered respectively #eg1 #ei1 #gd1 and #gf in the ,correr ,museum1 the passage above given from ,no4 #ec is variously repeated with slight modifications and curtailments2 the entry in the ,morosini ,chronicle being headed1 ,come fu principiato il palazo che guarda sopra la piaza grande di ,s4 ,marco1 and proceeding in the words1 ,el ,palazo ,nuovo di ,venetia1 cio quella parte che e sopra la piaza1 c41 the writers being cautious1 in all these instances1 to limit their statement to the part facing the ,piazza1 that no reader might suppose the ,council ,chamber to have been built or begun at the same time2 though1 as long as to the end of the sixteenth century1 we find the ,council ,chamber still included in the expression ,palazzo ,nuovo4 ,thus1 in the ,,ms4 ,no4 #ge in the ,correr ,museum1 which is about that date1 we have ,del #adbb1 a di #bj ,settembre fu preso nel consegio grando de dover compir el ,palazo ,novo1 e dovesen fare la spessa li officialli del ,sal 7#fa4 ,m4 #b4 ,b474 ,and1 so long as this is the case1 the ,palazzo ,vecchio always means the ,ziani ,palace4 ,thus1 in the next page of this same ,,ms4 we have a di #bg ,marzo 7#adbd by context7 fo principia a butar zosso1 el ,palazzo ,vecchio per refarlo da novo1 e poi se he 7and so it is done72 and in the ,,ms4 ,no4 #ha1 ,del #adbd1 fo gittado zoso el ,palazzo ,vecchio per refarlo de nuovo1 a di #bg ,marzo4 ,but in the time of ,sansovino the ,ziani ,palace was quite forgotten2 the ,council ,chamber was then the old palace1 and ,foscari's part was the new4 ,his account of the ,palazzo ,publico will now be perfectly intelligible2 but1 as the work itself is easily accessible1 ,i shall not burden the reader with any farther extracts1 only noticing that the chequering of the faade with red and white marbles1 which he ascribes to ,foscari1 may or may not be of so late a date1 as there is nothing in the style of the work which can be produced as evidence4 #b4 ,,theology ,,of ,,spenser4 ,the following analysis of the first books of the ,farie ,queen1 may be interesting to readers who have been in the habit of reading the noble poem too hastily to connect its parts completely together2 and may perhaps induce them to more careful study of the rest of the poem4 ,the ,redcrosse ,knight is ,holiness1--the ,pietas of ,st4 ,mark's1 the ,devotio of ,orcagna1--meaning1 ,i think1 in general1 ,reverence and ,godly ,fear4 ,this ,virtue1 in the opening of the book1 has ,truth 7or ,una7 at its side1 but presently enters the ,wandering ,wood1 and encounters the serpent ,error2 that is to say1 ,error in her universal form1 the first enemy of ,reverence and ,holiness2 and more especially ,error as founded on learning2 for when ,holiness strangles her1 ,her vomit full of bookes and papers was1 ,with loathly frogs and toades1 which eyes did lacke4 ,having vanquished this first open and palpable form of ,error1 as ,reverence and ,religion must always vanquish it1 the ,knight encounters ,hypocrisy1 or ,archimagus2 ,holiness cannot detect ,hypocrisy1 but believes him1 and goes home with him2 whereupon ,hypocrisy succeeds in separating ,holiness from ,truth2 and the ,knight 7,holiness7 and ,lady 7,truth7 go forth separately from the house of ,archimagus4 ,now observe3 the moment ,godly ,fear1 or ,holiness1 is separated from ,truth1 he meets ,infidelity1 or the ,knight ,sans ,foy2 ,infidelity having ,falsehood1 or ,duesa1 riding behind him4 ,the instant the ,redcrosse ,knight is aware of the attack of ,infidelity1 he ,gan fairly couch his speare1 and towards ride4 ,he vanquishes and slays ,infidelity2 but is deceived by his companion1 ,falsehood1 and takes her for his lady3 thus showing the condition of ,religion1 when1 after being attacked by ,doubt1 and remaining victorious1 it is nevertheless seduced1 by any form of ,falsehood1 to pay reverence where it ought not4 ,this1 then1 is the first fortune of ,godly ,fear separated from ,truth4 ,the poet then returns to ,truth1 separated from ,godly ,fear4 ,she is immediately attended by a lion1 or ,violence1 which makes her dreaded wherever she comes2 and when she enters the mart of ,superstition1 this ,lion tears ,kirkrapine in pieces3 showing how ,truth1 separated from ,godliness1 does indeed put an end to the abuses of ,superstition1 but does so violently and desperately4 ,she then meets again with ,hypocrisy1 whom she mistakes for her own lord1 or ,godly ,fear1 and travels a little way under his guardianship 7,hypocrisy thus not unfrequently appearing to defend the ,truth71 until they are both met by ,lawlessness1 or the ,knight ,sans ,loy1 whom ,hypocrisy cannot resist4 ,lawlessness overthrows ,hypocrisy1 and seizes upon ,truth1 first slaying her lion attendant3 showing that the first aim of licence is to destroy the force and authority of ,truth4 ,sans ,loy then takes ,truth captive1 and bears her away4 ,now this ,lawlessness is the unrighteousness1 or adikia1 of ,st4 ,paul2 and his bearing ,truth away captive1 is a type of those who hold the truth in unrighteousness1--that is to say1 generally1 of men who1 knowing what is true1 make the truth give way to their own purposes1 or use it only to forward them1 as is the case with so many of the popular leaders of the present day4 ,una is then delivered from ,sans ,loy by the satyrs1 to show that ,nature1 in the end1 must work out the deliverance of the truth1 although1 where it has been captive to ,lawlessness1 that deliverance can only be obtained through ,savageness1 and a return to barbarism4 ,una is then taken from among the satyrs by ,satyrane1 the son of a satyr and a lady myld1 fair ,thyamis1 7typifying the early steps of renewed civilization1 and its rough and hardy character nousled up in life and manners wilde17 who1 meeting again with ,sans ,loy1 enters instantly into rough and prolonged combat with him3 showing how the early organization of a hardy nation must be wrought out through much discouragement from ,lawlessness4 ,this contest the poet leaving for the time undecided1 returns to trace the adventures of the ,redcrosse ,knight1 or ,godly ,fear1 who1 having vanquished ,infidelity1 presently is led by ,falsehood to the house of ,pride3 thus showing how religion1 separated from truth1 is first tempted by doubts of ,god1 and then by the pride of life4 ,the description of this house of ,pride is one of the most elaborate and noble pieces in the poem2 and here we begin to get at the proposed system of ,virtues and ,vices4 ,for ,pride1 as queen1 has six other vices yoked in her chariot2 namely1 first1 ,idleness1 then ,gluttony1 ,lust1 ,avarice1 ,envy1 and ,anger1 all driven on by ,sathan1 with a smarting whip in hand4 ,from these lower vices and their company1 ,godly ,fear1 though lodging in the house of ,pride1 holds aloof2 but he is challenged1 and has a hard battle to fight with ,sans ,joy1 the brother of ,sans ,foy3 showing1 that though he has conquered ,infidelity1 and does not give himself up to the allurements of ,pride1 he is yet exposed1 so long as he dwells in her house1 to distress of mind and loss of his accustomed rejoicing before ,god4 ,he1 however1 having partly conquered ,despondency1 or ,sans ,joy1 ,falsehood goes down to ,hades1 in order to obtain drugs to maintain the power or life of ,despondency2 but1 meantime1 the ,knight leaves the house of ,pride3 ,falsehood pursues and overtakes him1 and finds him by a fountain side1 of which the waters are ,dull and slow1 ,and all that drinke thereof do faint and feeble grow4 ,of which the meaning is1 that ,godly ,fear1 after passing through the house of ,pride1 is exposed to drowsiness and feebleness of watch2 as1 after ,peter's boast1 came ,peter's sleeping1 from weakness of the flesh1 and then1 last of all1 ,peter's fall4 ,and so it follows3 for the ,redcrosse ,knight1 being overcome with faintness by drinking of the fountain1 is thereupon attacked by the giant ,orgoglio1 overcome and thrown by him into a dungeon4 ,this ,orgoglio is ,orgueil1 or ,carnal ,pride2 not the pride of life1 spiritual and subtle1 but the common and vulgar pride in the power of this world3 and his throwing the ,redcrosse ,knight into a dungeon1 is a type of the captivity of true religion under the temporal power of corrupt churches1 more especially of the ,church of ,rome2 and of its gradually wasting away in unknown places1 while carnal pride has the preminence over all things4 ,that ,spenser means1 especially1 the pride of the ,papacy1 is shown by the #afth stanza of the book2 for there the giant ,orgoglio is said to have taken ,duessa1 or ,falsehood1 for his deare1 and to have set upon her head a triple crown1 and endowed her with royal majesty1 and made her to ride upon a seven-headed beast4 ,in the meantime1 the dwarf1 the attendant of the ,redcrosse ,knight1 takes his arms1 and finding ,una tells her of the captivity of her lord4 ,una1 in the midst of her mourning1 meets ,prince ,arthur1 in whom1 as ,spenser himself tells us1 is set forth generally ,magnificence2 but who1 as is shown by the choice of the hero's name1 is more especially the magnificence1 or literally1 great doing of the kingdom of ,england4 ,this power of ,england1 going forth with ,truth1 attacks ,orgoglio1 or the ,pride of ,papacy1 slays him2 strips ,duessa1 or ,falsehood1 naked2 and liberates the ,redcrosse ,knight4 ,the magnificent and well-known description of ,despair follows1 by whom the ,redcrosse ,knight is hard bested1 on account of his past errors and captivity1 and is only saved by ,truth1 who1 perceiving him to be still feeble1 brings him to the house of ,coelia1 called1 in the argument of the canto1 ,holiness1 but properly1 ,heavenly ,grace1 the mother of the ,virtues4 ,her three daughters1 well up-brought1 are ,faith1 ,hope1 and ,charity4 ,her porter is ,humility2 because ,humility opens the door of ,heavenly ,grace4 ,zeal and ,reverence are her chamberlains1 introducing the new comers to her presence2 her groom1 or servant1 is ,obedience2 and her physician1 ,patience4 ,under the commands of ,charity1 the matron ,mercy rules over her hospital1 under whose care the ,knight is healed of his sickness2 and it is to be especially noticed how much importance ,spenser1 though never ceasing to chastise all hypocrisies and mere observances of form1 attaches to true and faithful penance in effecting this cure4 ,having his strength restored to him1 the ,knight is trusted to the guidance of ,mercy1 who1 leading him forth by a narrow and thorny way1 first instructs him in the seven works of ,mercy1 and then leads him to the hill of ,heavenly ,contemplation2 whence1 having a sight of the ,new ,jerusalem1 as ,christian of the ,delectable ,mountains1 he goes forth to the final victory over ,satan1 the old serpent1 with which the book closes4 #c4 ,,austrian ,,government ,,in ,,italy4 ,i cannot close these volumes without expressing my astonishment and regret at the facility with which the ,english allow themselves to be misled by any representations1 however openly groundless or ridiculous1 proceeding from the ,italian ,liberal party1 respecting the present administration of the ,austrian ,government4 ,i do not choose here to enter into any political discussion1 or express any political opinion2 but it is due to justice to state the simple facts which came under my notice during my residence in ,italy4 ,i was living at ,venice through two entire winters1 and in the habit of familiar association both with ,italians and ,austrians1 my own antiquarian vocations rendering such association possible without exciting the distrust of either party4 ,during this whole period1 ,i never once was able to ascertain1 from any liberal ,italian1 that he had a single definite ground of complaint against the ,government4 ,there was much general grumbling and vague discontent2 but ,i never was able to bring one of them to the point1 or to discover what it was that they wanted1 or in what way they felt themselves injured2 nor did ,i ever myself witness an instance of oppression on the part of the ,government1 though several of much kindness and consideration4 ,the indignation of those of my own countrymen and countrywomen whom ,i happened to see during their sojourn in ,venice was always vivid1 but by no means large in its grounds4 ,english ladies on their first arrival invariably began the conversation with the same remark3 ,what a dreadful thing it was to be ground under the iron heel of despotism6 ,upon closer inquiries it always appeared that being ground under the heel of despotism was a poetical expression for being asked for one's passport at ,san ,juliano1 and required to fetch it from ,san ,lorenzo1 full a mile and a quarter distant4 ,in like manner1 travellers1 after two or three days' residence in the city1 used to return with pitiful lamentations over the misery of the ,italian people4 ,upon inquiring what instances they had met with of this misery1 it invariably turned out that their gondoliers1 after being paid three times their proper fare1 had asked for something to drink1 and had attributed the fact of their being thirsty to the ,austrian ,government4 ,the misery of the ,italians consists in having three festa days a week1 and doing in their days of exertion about one fourth as much work as an ,english laborer4 ,there is1 indeed1 much true distress occasioned by the measures which the ,government is sometimes compelled to take in order to repress sedition2 but the blame of this lies with those whose occupation is the excitement of sedition4 ,so also there is much grievous harm done to works of art by the occupation of the country by so large an army2 but for the mode in which that army is quartered1 the ,italian municipalities are answerable1 not the ,austrians4 ,whenever ,i was shocked by finding1 as above-mentioned at ,milan1 a cloister1 or a palace1 occupied by soldiery1 ,i always discovered1 on investigation1 that the place had been given by the municipality2 and that1 beyond requiring that lodging for a certain number of men should be found in such and such a quarter of the town1 the ,austrians had nothing to do with the matter4 ,this does not1 however1 make the mischief less3 and it is strange1 if we think of it1 to see ,italy1 with all her precious works of art1 made a continual battle-field2 as if no other place for settling their disputes could be found by the ,european powers1 than where every random shot may destroy what a king's ransom cannot restore4#fb ,it is exactly as if the tumults in ,paris could he settled no otherwise than by fighting them out in the ,gallery of the ,louvre4 #d4 ,,date ,,of ,,the ,,palaces ,,of ,,the ,,byzantine ,,renaissance4 ,in the sixth article of the ,appendix to the first volume1 the question of the date of the ,casa ,dario and ,casa ,trevisan was deferred until ,i could obtain from my friend ,mr4 ,rawdon ,brown1 to whom the former palace once belonged1 some more distinct data respecting this subject than ,i possessed myself4 ,speaking first of the ,casa ,dario1 he says3 ,fontana dates it from about the year #adej1 and considers it the earliest specimen of the architecture founded by ,pietro ,lombardo1 and followed by his sons1 ,tullio and ,antonio4 ,in a ,sanuto autograph miscellany1 purchased by me long ago1 and which ,i gave to ,st4 ,mark's ,library1 are two letters from ,giovanni ,dario1 dated #ajth and #aath ,july1 #adhe1 in the neighborhood of ,adrianople2 where the ,turkish camp found itself1 and ,bajazet ,,ii4 received presents from the ,soldan of ,egypt1 from the ,schah of the ,indies 7query ,grand ,mogul71 and from the ,king of ,hungary3 of these matters1 ,dario's letters give many curious details4 ,then1 in the printed ,malipiero ,annals1 page #acf 7which err1 ,i think1 by a year71 the ,secretary ,dario's negotiations at the ,porte are alluded to2 and in date of #adhd he is stated to have returned to ,venice1 having quarrelled with the ,venetian bailiff at ,constantinople3 the annalist adds1 that ',giovanni ,dario was a native of ,candia1 and that the ,republic was so well satisfied with him for having concluded peace with ,bajazet1 that he received1 as a gift from his country1 an estate at ,noventa1 in the ,paduan territory1 worth #aejj ducats1 and #fjj ducats in cash for the dower of one of his daughters4' ,these largesses probably enabled him to build his house about the year #adhf1 and are doubtless hinted at in the inscription1 which ,i restored ,a4,d4 #ahcg2 it had no date1 and ran thus1 ,,urbis 4 ,,genio 4 ,,joannes 4 ,,darivs4 ,in the ,venetian history of ,paolo ,morosini1 page #eid1 it is also mentioned1 that ,giovanni ,dario was1 moreover1 the ,secretary who concluded the peace between ,mahomet1 the conqueror of ,constantinople1 and ,venice1 ,a4,d4 #adgh2 but1 unless he build his house by proxy1 that date has nothing to do with it2 and in my mind1 the fact of the present1 and the inscription1 warrant one's dating it #adhf1 and not #adej4 ,the ,trevisan-,cappello ,house1 in ,canonica1 was once the property 7,a4,d4 #aegh7 of a ,venetian dame1 fond of cray-fish1 according to a letter of hers in the archives1 whereby she thanks one of her lovers for some which he had sent her from ,treviso to ,florence1 of which she was then ,grand ,duchess4 ,her name has perhaps found its way into the ,english annuals4 ,did you ever hear of ,bianca ,cappello8 ,she bought that house of the ,trevisana family1 by whom ,selva 7in ,cicognara7 and ,fontana 7following ,selva7 say it was ordered of the ,lombardi1 at the commencement of the sixteenth century3 but the inscription on its faade1 thus1 ,,soli ,,honor4 ,,et ,,deo ,,gloria4 reminding one both of the ,dario ,house1 and of the words ,,non ,,nobis ,,domine inscribed on the faade of the ,loredano ,vendramin ,palace at ,s4 ,marcuola 7now the property of the ,duchess of ,berri71 of which ,selva found proof in the ,vendramin ,archives that it was commenced by ,sante ,lombardo1 ,a4,d4 #adha1 is in favor of its being classed among the works of the fifteenth century4 #e4 ,,renaissance ,,side ,,of ,,ducal ,,palace4 ,in passing along the ,rio del ,palazzo the traveller ought especially to observe the base of the ,renaissance building1 formed by alternately depressed and raised pyramids1 the depressed portions being casts of the projecting ones1 which are truncated on the summits4 ,the work cannot be called rustication1 for it is cut as sharply and delicately as a piece of ivory1 but it thoroughly answers the end which rustication proposes1 and misses3 it gives the base of the building a look of crystalline hardness1 actually resembling1 and that very closely1 the appearance presented by the fracture of a piece of cap quartz2 while yet the light and shade of its alternate recesses and projections are so varied as to produce the utmost possible degree of delight to the eye1 attainable by a geometrical pattern so simple4 ,yet1 with all this high merit1 it is not a base which could be brought into general use4 ,its brilliancy and piquancy are here set off with exquisite skill by its opposition to mouldings1 in the upper part of the building1 of an almost effeminate delicacy1 and its complexity is rendered delightful by its contrast with the ruder bases of the other buildings of the city2 but it would look meagre if it were employed to sustain bolder masses above1 and would become wearisome if the eye were once thoroughly familiarized with it by repetition4 #f4 ,,character ,,of ,,the ,,doge ,,michele ,,morosini4 ,the following extracts from the letter of ,count ,charles ,morosini1 above mentioned1 appear to set the question at rest4 ,it is our unhappy destiny that1 during the glory of the ,venetian republic1 no one took the care to leave us a faithful and conscientious history3 but ,i hardly know whether this misfortune should be laid to the charge of the historians themselves1 or of those commentators who have destroyed their trustworthiness by new accounts of things1 invented by themselves4 ,as for the poor ,morosini1 we may perhaps save his honor by assembling a conclave of our historians1 in order to receive their united sentence2 for1 in this case1 he would have the absolute majority on his side1 nearly all the authors bearing testimony to his love for his country and to the magnanimity of his heart4 ,i must tell you that the history of ,daru is not looked upon with esteem by well-informed men2 and it is said that he seems to have no other object in view than to obscure the glory of all actions4 ,i know not on what authority the ,english writer depends2 but he has1 perhaps1 merely copied the statement of ,daru4444 ,i have consulted an ancient and authentic ,,ms4 belonging to the ,venieri family1 a ,,ms4 well known1 and certainly better worthy of confidence than ,daru's history1 and it says nothing of ,m4 ,morosini but that he was elected ,doge to the delight and joy of all men4 ,neither do the ,savina or ,dolfin ,chronicles say a word of the shameful speculation2 and our best informed men say that the reproach cast by some historians against the ,doge perhaps arose from a mistaken interpretation of the words pronounced by him1 and reported by ,marin ,sanuto1 that 'the speculation would sooner or later have been advantageous to the country4' ,but this single consideration is enough to induce us to form a favorable conclusion respecting the honor of this man1 namely1 that he was not elected ,doge until after he had been entrusted with many honorable embassies to the ,genoese and ,carrarese1 as well as to the ,king of ,hungary and ,amadeus of ,savoy2 and if in these embassies he had not shown himself a true lover of his country1 the republic not only would not again have entrusted him with offices so honorable1 but would never have rewarded him with the dignity of ,doge1 therein to succeed such a man as ,andrea ,contarini2 and the war of ,chioggia1 during which it is said that he tripled his fortune by speculations1 took place during the reign of ,contarini1 #acgi1 #achj1 while ,morosini was absent on foreign embassies4 #g4 ,,modern ,,education4 ,the following fragmentary notes on this subject have been set down at different times4 ,i have been accidentally prevented from arranging them properly for publication1 but there are one or two truths in them which it is better to express insufficiently than not at all4 99 99 99 99 99 ,by a large body of the people of ,england and of ,europe a man is called educated if he can write ,latin verses and construe a ,greek chorus4 ,by some few more enlightened persons it is confessed that the construction of hexameters is not in itself an important end of human existence2 but they say1 that the general discipline which a course of classical reading gives to the intellectual powers1 is the final object of our scholastical institutions4 ,but it seems to me1 there is no small error even in this last and more philosophical theory4 ,i believe1 that what it is most honorable to know1 it is also most profitable to learn2 and that the science which it is the highest power to possess1 it is also the best exercise to acquire4 ,and if this be so1 the question as to what should be the materiel of education1 becomes singularly simplified4 ,it might be matter of dispute what processes have the greatest effect in developing the intellect2 but it can hardly be disputed what facts it is most advisable that a man entering into life should accurately know4 ,i believe1 in brief1 that he ought to know three things3 ,first4 ,where he is4 ,secondly4 ,where he is going4 ,thirdly4 ,what he had best do1 under those circumstances4 ,first4 ,where he is4--,that is to say1 what sort of a world he has got into2 how large it is2 what kind of creatures live in it1 and how2 what it is made of1 and what may be made of it4 ,secondly4 ,where he is going4--,that is to say1 what chances or reports there are of any other world besides this2 what seems to be the nature of that other world2 and whether1 for information respecting it1 he had better consult the ,bible1 ,koran1 or ,council of ,trent4 ,thirdly4 ,what he had best do under those circumstances4--,that is to say1 what kind of faculties he possesses2 what are the present state and wants of mankind2 what is his place in society2 and what are the readiest means in his power of attaining happiness and diffusing it4 ,the man who knows these things1 and who has had his will so subdued in the learning them1 that he is ready to do what he knows he ought1 ,i should call educated2 and the man who knows them not1--uneducated1 though he could talk all the tongues of ,babel4 ,our present ,european system of so-called education ignores1 or despises1 not one1 nor the other1 but all the three1 of these great branches of human knowledge4 ,first3 ,it despises ,natural ,history4--,until within the last year or two1 the instruction in the physical sciences given at ,oxford consisted of a course of twelve or fourteen lectures on the ,elements of ,mechanics or ,pneumatics1 and permission to ride out to ,shotover with the ,professor of ,geology4 ,i do not know the specialties of the system pursued in the academies of the ,continent2 but their practical result is1 that unless a man's natural instincts urge him to the pursuit of the physical sciences too strongly to be resisted1 he enters into life utterly ignorant of them4 ,i cannot1 within my present limits1 even so much as count the various directions in which this ignorance does evil4 ,but the main mischief of it is1 that it leaves the greater number of men without the natural food which ,god intended for their intellects4 ,for one man who is fitted for the study of words1 fifty are fitted for the study of things1 and were intended to have a perpetual1 simple1 and religious delight in watching the processes1 or admiring the creatures1 of the natural universe4 ,deprived of this source of pleasure1 nothing is left to them but ambition or dissipation2 and the vices of the upper classes of ,europe are1 ,i believe1 chiefly to be attributed to this single cause4 ,secondly3 ,it despises ,religion4--,i do not say it despises ,theology1 that is to say1 ,talk about ,god4 ,but it despises ,religion2 that is to say1 the binding or training to ,god's service4 ,there is much talk and much teaching in all our academies1 of which the effect is not to bind1 but to loosen1 the elements of religious faith4 ,of the ten or twelve young men who1 at ,oxford1 were my especial friends1 who sat with me under the same lectures on ,divinity1 or were punished with me for missing lecture by being sent to evening prayers1#fc four are now zealous ,romanists1--a large average out of twelve2 and while thus our own universities profess to teach ,protestantism1 and do not1 the universities on the ,continent profess to teach ,romanism1 and do not1--sending forth only rebels and infidels4 ,during long residence on the ,continent1 ,i do not remember meeting with above two or three young men1 who either believed in revelation1 or had the grace to hesitate in the assertion of their infidelity4 ,whence1 it seems to me1 we may gather one of two things2 either that there is nothing in any ,european form of religion so reasonable or ascertained1 as that it can be taught securely to our youth1 or fastened in their minds by any rivets of proof which they shall not be able to loosen the moment they begin to think2 or else1 that no means are taken to train them in such demonstrable creeds4 ,it seems to me the duty of a rational nation to ascertain 7and to be at some pains in the matter7 which of these suppositions is true2 and1 if indeed no proof can be given of any supernatural fact1 or ,divine doctrine1 stronger than a youth just out of his teens can overthrow in the first stirrings of serious thought1 to confess this boldly2 to get rid of the expense of an ,establishment1 and the hypocrisy of a ,liturgy2 to exhibit its cathedrals as curious memorials of a by-gone superstition1 and1 abandoning all thoughts of the next world1 to set itself to make the best it can of this4 ,but if1 on the other hand1 there does exist any evidence by which the probability of certain religious facts may be shown1 as clearly1 even1 as the probabilities of things not absolutely ascertained in astronomical or geological science1 let this evidence be set before all our youth so distinctly1 and the facts for which it appears inculcated upon them so steadily1 that although it may be possible for the evil conduct of after life to efface1 or for its earnest and protracted meditation to modify1 the impressions of early years1 it may not be possible for our young men1 the instant they emerge from their academies1 to scatter themselves like a flock of wild fowl risen out of a marsh1 and drift away on every irregular wind of heresy and apostasy4 ,lastly3 ,our system of ,european education despises ,politics4--,that is to say1 the science of the relations and duties of men to each other4 ,one would imagine1 indeed1 by a glance at the state of the world1 that there was no such science4 ,and1 indeed1 it is one still in its infancy4 ,it implies1 in its full sense1 the knowledge of the operations of the virtues and vices of men upon themselves and society2 the understanding of the ranks and offices of their intellectual and bodily powers in their various adaptations to art1 science1 and industry2 the understanding of the proper offices of art1 science1 and labor themselves1 as well as of the foundations of jurisprudence1 and broad principles of commerce2 all this being coupled with practical knowledge of the present state and wants of mankind4 ,what1 it will be said1 and is all this to be taught to schoolboys8 ,no2 but the first elements of it1 all that are necessary to be known by an individual in order to his acting wisely in any station of life1 might be taught1 not only to every schoolboy1 but to every peasant4 ,the impossibility of equality among men2 the good which arises from their inequality2 the compensating circumstances in different states and fortunes2 the honorableness of every man who is worthily filling his appointed place in society1 however humble2 the proper relations of poor and rich1 governor and governed2 the nature of wealth1 and mode of its circulation2 the difference between productive and unproductive labor2 the relation of the products of the mind and hand2 the true value of works of the higher arts1 and the possible amount of their production2 the meaning of ,civilization1 its advantages and dangers2 the meaning of the term ,refinement2 the possibilities of possessing refinement in a low station1 and of losing it in a high one2 and1 above all1 the significance of almost every act of a man's daily life1 in its ultimate operation upon himself and others2--all this might be1 and ought to be1 taught to every boy in the kingdom1 so completely1 that it should be just as impossible to introduce an absurd or licentious doctrine among our adult population1 as a new version of the multiplication table4 ,nor am ,i altogether without hope that some day it may enter into the heads of the tutors of our schools to try whether it is not as easy to make an ,eton boy's mind as sensitive to falseness in policy1 as his ear is at present to falseness in prosody4 ,i know that this is much to hope4 ,that ,english ministers of religion should ever come to desire rather to make a youth acquainted with the powers of nature and of ,god1 than with the powers of ,greek particles2 that they should ever think it more useful to show him how the great universe rolls upon its course in heaven1 than how the syllables are fitted in a tragic metre2 that they should hold it more advisable for him to be fixed in the principles of religion than in those of syntax2 or1 finally1 that they should ever come to apprehend that a youth likely to go straight out of college into parliament1 might not unadvisably know as much of the ,peninsular as of the ,peloponnesian ,war1 and be as well acquainted with the state of ,modern ,italy as of old ,etruria2--all this however unreasonably1 ,i do hope1 and mean to work for4 ,for though ,i have not yet abandoned all expectation of a better world than this1 ,i believe this in which we live is not so good as it might be4 ,i know there are many people who suppose ,french revolutions1 ,italian insurrections1 ,caffre wars1 and such other scenic effects of modern policy1 to be among the normal conditions of humanity4 ,i know there are many who think the atmosphere of rapine1 rebellion1 and misery which wraps the lower orders of ,europe more closely every day1 is as natural a phenomenon as a hot summer4 ,but ,god forbid6 ,there are ills which flesh is heir to1 and troubles to which man is born2 but the troubles which he is born to are as sparks which fly upward1 not as flames burning to the nethermost ,hell4 ,the ,poor we must have with us always1 and sorrow is inseparable from any hour of life2 but we may make their poverty such as shall inherit the earth1 and the sorrow1 such as shall be hallowed by the hand of the ,comforter1 with everlasting comfort4 ,we can1 if we will but shake off this lethargy and dreaming that is upon us1 and take the pains to think and act like men1 we can1 ,i say1 make kingdoms to be like well-governed households1 in which1 indeed1 while no care or kindness can prevent occasional heart-burnings1 nor any foresight or piety anticipate all the vicissitudes of fortune1 or avert every stroke of calamity1 yet the unity of their affection and fellowship remains unbroken1 and their distress is neither embittered by division1 prolonged by imprudence1 nor darkened by dishonor4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the great leading error of modern times is the mistaking erudition for education4 ,i call it the leading error1 for ,i believe that1 with little difficulty1 nearly every other might be shown to have root in it2 and1 most assuredly1 the worst that are fallen into on the subject of art4 ,education then1 briefly1 is the leading human souls to what is best1 and making what is best out of them2 and these two objects are always attainable together1 and by the same means2 the training which makes men happiest in themselves1 also makes them most serviceable to others4 ,true education1 then1 has respect1 first to the ends which are proposable to the man1 or attainable by him2 and1 secondly1 to the material of which the man is made4 ,so far as it is able1 it chooses the end according to the material3 but it cannot always choose the end1 for the position of many persons in life is fixed by necessity2 still less can it choose the material2 and1 therefore1 all it can do1 is to fit the one to the other as wisely as may be4 ,but the first point to be understood1 is that the material is as various as the ends2 that not only one man is unlike another1 but every man is essentially different from every other1 so that no training1 no forming1 nor informing1 will ever make two persons alike in thought or in power4 ,among all men1 whether of the upper or lower orders1 the differences are eternal and irreconcilable1 between one individual and another1 born under absolutely the same circumstances4 ,one man is made of agate1 another of oak2 one of slate1 another of clay4 ,the education of the first is polishing2 of the second1 seasoning2 of the third1 rending2 of the fourth1 moulding4 ,it is of no use to season the agate2 it is vain to try to polish the slate2 but both are fitted1 by the qualities they possess1 for services in which they may be honored4 ,now the cry for the education of the lower classes1 which is heard every day more widely and loudly1 is a wise and a sacred cry1 provided it be extended into one for the education of all classes1 with definite respect to the work each man has to do1 and the substance of which he is made4 ,but it is a foolish and vain cry1 if it be understood1 as in the plurality of cases it is meant to be1 for the expression of mere craving after knowledge1 irrespective of the simple purposes of the life that now is1 and blessings of that which is to come4 ,one great fallacy into which men are apt to fall when they are reasoning on this subject is3 that light1 as such1 is always good2 and darkness1 as such1 always evil4 ,far from it4 ,light untempered would be annihilation4 ,it is good to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death2 but1 to those that faint in the wilderness1 so also is the shadow of the great rock in a weary land4 ,if the sunshine is good1 so also the cloud of the latter rain4 ,light is only beautiful1 only available for life1 when it is tempered with shadow2 pure light is fearful1 and unendurable by humanity4 ,and it is not less ridiculous to say that the light1 as such1 is good in itself1 than to say that the darkness is good in itself4 ,both are rendered safe1 healthy1 and useful by the other2 the night by the day1 the day by the night2 and we could just as easily live without the dawn as without the sunset1 so long as we are human4 ,of the celestial city we are told there shall be no night there1 and then we shall know even as also we are known3 but the night and the mystery have both their service here2 and our business is not to strive to turn the night into day1 but to be sure that we are as they that watch for the morning4 ,therefore1 in the education either of lower or upper classes1 it matters not the least how much or how little they know1 provided they know just what will fit them to do their work1 and to be happy in it4 ,what the sum or the nature of their knowledge ought to be at a given time or in a given case1 is a totally different question3 the main thing to be understood is1 that a man is not educated1 in any sense whatsoever1 because he can read ,latin1 or write ,english1 or can behave well in a drawingroom2 but that he is only educated if he is happy1 busy1 beneficent1 and effective in the world2 that millions of peasants are therefore at this moment better educated than most of those who call themselves gentlemen2 and that the means taken to educate the lower classes in any other sense may very often be productive of a precisely opposite result4 ,observe3 ,i do not say1 nor do ,i believe1 that the lower classes ought not to be better educated1 in millions of ways1 than they are4 ,i believe every man in a ,christian kingdom ought to be equally well educated4 ,but ,i would have it education to purpose2 stern1 practical1 irresistible1 in moral habits1 in bodily strength and beauty1 in all faculties of mind capable of being developed under the circumstances of the individual1 and especially in the technical knowledge of his own business2 but yet1 infinitely various in its effort1 directed to make one youth humble1 and another confident2 to tranquillize this mind1 to put some spark of ambition into that2 now to urge1 and now to restrain3 and in the doing of all this1 considering knowledge as one only out of myriads of means in its hands1 or myriads of gifts at its disposal2 and giving it or withholding it as a good husbandman waters his garden1 giving the full shower only to the thirsty plants1 and at times when they are thirsty1 whereas at present we pour it upon the heads of our youth as the snow falls on the ,alps1 on one and another alike1 till they can bear no more1 and then take honor to ourselves because here and there a river descends from their crests into the valleys1 not observing that we have made the loaded hills themselves barren for ever4 ,finally3 ,i hold it for indisputable1 that the first duty of a state is to see that every child born therein shall be well housed1 clothed1 fed1 and educated1 till it attain years of discretion4 ,but in order to the effecting this1 the government must have an authority over the people of which we now do not so much as dream2 and ,i cannot in this place pursue the subject farther4 #h4 ,,early ,,venetian ,,marriages4 ,galliciolli1 lib4 ii4 #ageg1 insinuates a doubt of the general custom1 saying it would be more reasonable to suppose that only twelve maidens were married in public on ,st4 ,mark's day2 and ,sandi also speaks of twelve only4 ,all evidence1 however1 is clearly in favor of the popular tradition2 the most curious fact connected with the subject being the mention1 by ,herodotus1 of the mode of marriage practised among the ,illyrian ,veneti of his time1 who presented their maidens for marriage on one day in each year2 and1 with the price paid for those who were beautiful1 gave dowries to those who had no personal attractions4 ,it is very curious to find the traces of this custom existing1 though in a softened form1 in ,christian times4 ,still1 ,i admit that there is little confidence to be placed in the mere concurrence of the ,venetian ,chroniclers1 who1 for the most part1 copied from each other3 but the best and most complete account ,i have read1 is that quoted by ,galliciolli from the ,matricola de' ,casseleri1 written in #addi2 and1 in that account1 the words are quite unmistakable4 ,it was anciently the custom of ,venice1 that all the brides 7novizze7 of ,venice1 when they married1 should be married by the bishop1 in the ,church of ,s4 ,pietro di ,castello1 on ,st4 ,mark's day1 which is the #cast of ,january4 ,rogers quotes ,navagiero to the same effect2 and ,sansovino is more explicit still4 ,it was the custom to contract marriages openly2 and when the deliberations were completed1 the damsels assembled themselves in ,st4 ,pietro di ,castello1 for the feast of ,st4 ,mark1 in ,february4 #i4 ,,character ,,of ,,the ,,venetian ,,aristocracy4 ,the following noble answer of a ,venetian ambassador1 ,giustiniani1 on the occasion of an insult offered him at the court of ,henry the ,eighth1 is as illustrative of the dignity which there yet remained in the character and thoughts of the ,venetian noble1 as descriptive1 in few words1 of the early faith and deeds of his nation4 ,he writes thus to the ,doge1 from ,london1 on the #aeth of ,april1 #aeaf3 ,by my last1 in date of the #cjth ult41 ,i informed you that the countenances of some of these lords evinced neither friendship nor goodwill1 and that much language had been used to me of a nature bordering not merely on arrogance1 but even on outrage2 and not having specified this in the foregoing letters1 ,i think fit now to mention it in detail4 ,finding myself at the court1 and talking familiarly about other matters1 two lay lords1 great personages in this kingdom1 inquired of me 'whence it came that your ,excellency was of such slippery faith1 now favoring one party and then the other8' ,although these words ought to have irritated me1 ,i answered them with all discretion1 'that you did keep1 and ever had kept your faith2 the maintenance of which has placed you in great trouble1 and subjected you to wars of longer duration than you would otherwise have experienced2 descending to particulars in justification of your ,sublimity4' ,whereupon one of them replied1 ',isti ,veneti sunt piscatores4'#fd ,marvellous was the command ,i then had over myself in not giving vent to expressions which might have proved injurious to your ,signory2 and with extreme moderation ,i rejoined1 'that had he been at ,venice1 and seen our ,senate1 and the ,venetian nobility1 he perhaps would not speak thus2 and moreover1 were he well read in our history1 both concerning the origin of our city and the grandeur of your ,excellency's feats1 neither the one nor the other would seem to him those of fishermen2 yet1' said ,i1 'did fishermen found the ,christian faith1 and we have been those fishermen who defended it against the forces of the ,infidel1 our fishing-boats being galleys and ships1 our hooks the treasure of ,st4 ,mark1 and our bait the life-blood of our citizens1 who died for the ,christian faith4' ,i take this most interesting passage from a volume of despatches addressed from ,london to the ,signory of ,venice1 by the ambassador ,giustiniani1 during the years #aeaf-aeai2 despatches not only full of matters of historical interest1 but of the most delightful every-day description of all that went on at the ,english court4 ,they were translated by ,mr4 ,brown from the original letters1 and will1 ,i believe1 soon be published1 and ,i hope also1 read and enjoyed3 for ,i cannot close these volumes without expressing a conviction1 which has long been forcing itself upon my mind1 that restored history is of little more value than restored painting or architecture2 that the only history worth reading is that written at the time of which it treats1 the history of what was done and seen1 heard out of the mouths of the men who did and saw4 ,one fresh draught of such history is worth more than a thousand volumes of abstracts1 and reasonings1 and suppositions1 and theories2 and ,i believe that1 as we get wiser1 we shall take little trouble about the history of nations who have left no distinct records of themselves1 but spend our time only in the examination of the faithful documents which1 in any period of the world1 have been left1 either in the form of art or literature1 portraying the scenes1 or recording the events1 which in those days were actually passing before the eyes of men4 #aj4 ,,final ,,appendix4 ,the statements respecting the dates of ,venetian buildings made throughout the preceding pages1 are founded1 as above stated1 on careful and personal examination of all the mouldings1 or other features available as evidence1 of every palace of importance in the city4 ,three parts1 at least1 of the time occupied in the completion of the work have been necessarily devoted to the collection of these evidences1 of which it would be quite useless to lay the mass before the reader2 but of which the leading points must be succinctly stated1 in order to show the nature of my authority for any of the conclusions expressed in the text4 ,i have therefore collected in the plates which illustrate this article of the ,appendix1 for the examination of any reader who may be interested by them1 as many examples of the evidence-bearing details as are sufficient for the proof required1 especially including all the exceptional forms2 so that the reader may rest assured that if ,i had been able to lay before him all the evidence in my possession1 it would have been still more conclusive than the portion now submitted to him4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,v4 ,,byzantine ,,bases4 ,we must examine in succession the ,bases1 ,doorways and ,jambs1 ,capitals1 ,archivolts1 ,cornices1 and ,tracery ,bars1 of ,venetian architecture4 ,i4 ,bases4 ,the principal points we have to notice are the similarity and simplicity of the ,byzantine bases in general1 and the distinction between those of ,torcello and ,murano1 and of ,st4 ,mark's1 as tending to prove the early dates attributed in the text to the island churches4 ,i have sufficiently illustrated the forms of the ,gothic bases in ,plates ,x41 ,,xi41 and ,,xiii4 of the first volume1 so that ,i here note chiefly the ,byzantine or ,romanesque ones1 adding two ,gothic forms for the sake of comparison4 ,the most characteristic examples1 then1 are collected in ,plate ,v4 opposite2 namely3 #a1 #b1 #c1 #d4 ,in the upper gallery of apse of ,murano4 #e4 ,lower shafts of apse4 ,murano4 #f4 ,casa ,falier4 #g4 ,small shafts of panels4 ,casa ,farsetti4 #h4 ,great shafts and plinth4 ,casa ,farsetti4 #i4 ,great lower shafts4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #aj4 ,ducal ,palace1 upper arcade4 ,,plate ,v4 #aa4 ,general late ,gothic form4 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #ab4 ,tomb of ,dogaressa ,vital ,michele1 in ,st4 ,mark's atrium4 #ac4 ,upper arcade of ,madonnetta ,house4 #ad4 ,rio-,foscari ,house4 #ae4 ,upper arcade4 ,terraced ,house4 #af1 #ag1 #ah4 ,nave4 ,torcello4 #ai1 #bj4 ,transepts4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #ba4 ,nave4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #bb4 ,external pillars of northern portico4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #bc1 #bd4 ,clustered pillars of northern portico4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #be1 #bf4 ,clustered pillars of southern portico4 ,st4 ,mark's4 ,now1 observe1 first1 the enormous difference in style between the bases #a to #e1 and the rest in the upper row1 that is to say1 between the bases of ,murano and the twelfth and thirteenth century bases of ,venice2 and1 secondly1 the difference between the bases #af to #bj and the rest in the lower row1 that is to say1 between the bases of ,torcello 7with those of ,st4 ,mark's which belong to the nave1 and which may therefore be supposed to be part of the earlier church71 and the later ones of the ,st4 ,mark's ,faade4 ,secondly3 ,note the fellowship between #e and #f1 one of the evidences of the early date of the ,casa ,falier4 ,thirdly3 ,observe the slurring of the upper roll into the cavetto1 in #ac1 #ad1 and #ae1 and the consequent relationship established between three most important buildings1 the ,rio-,foscari ,house1 ,terraced ,house1 and ,madonnetta ,house4 ,fourthly3 ,byzantine bases1 if they have an incision between the upper roll and cavetto1 are very apt to approach the form of fig4 #bc1 in which the upper roll is cut out of the flat block1 and the ledge beneath it is sloping4 ,compare ,nos4 #g1 #h1 #i1 #ba1 #bb1 #bc1 #bd1 #be1 #bf4 ,on the other hand1 the later ,gothic base1 #aa1 has always its upper roll well developed1 and1 generally1 the fillet between it and the cavetto vertical4 ,the sloping fillet is indeed found down to late periods2 and the vertical fillet1 as in ,no4 #ab1 in ,byzantine ones2 but still1 when a base has such a sloping fillet and peculiarly graceful sweeping cavetto1 as those of ,no4 #aj1 looking as if they would run into one line with each other1 it is strong presumptive evidence of its belonging to an early1 rather than a late period4 ,the base #ab is the boldest example ,i could find of the exceptional form in early times2 but observe1 in this1 that the upper roll is larger than the lower4 ,this is never the case in late ,gothic1 where the proportion is always as in fig4 #aa4 ,observe that in ,nos4 #h and #i the upper rolls are at least as large as the lower1 an important evidence of the dates of the ,casa ,farsetti and ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 ,lastly3 ,note the peculiarly steep profile of ,no4 #bb1 with reference to what is said of this base in ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,appendix #i4 ,,ii4 ,doorways and ,jambs4 ,the entrances to ,st4 ,mark's consist1 as above mentioned1 of great circular or ogee porches2 underneath which the real open entrances1 in which the valves of the bronze doors play1 are square headed4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,i4 ,the mouldings of the jambs of these doors are highly curious1 and the most characteristic are therefore represented in one view4 ,the outsides of the jambs are lowest4 a4 ,northern lateral door4 b4 ,first northern door of the faade4 c4 ,second door of the faade4 d4 ,fourth door of the faade4 e4 ,central door of the faade4 ,i wish the reader especially to note the arbitrary character of the curves and incisions2 all evidently being drawn by hand1 none being segments of circles1 none like another1 none influenced by any visible law4 ,i do not give these mouldings as beautiful2 they are1 for the most part1 very poor in effect1 but they are singularly characteristic of the free work of the time4 ,the kind of door to which these mouldings belong1 is shown1 with the other groups of doors1 in ,plate ,,xiv4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 fig4 #f a4 ,then #f b1 #f c1 #f d represent the groups of doors in which the ,byzantine influence remained energetic1 admitting slowly the forms of the pointed ,gothic2 #g a1 with the gable above1 is the intermediate group between the ,byzantine and ,gothic schools2 #g b1 #g c1 #g d1 #g e are the advanced guards of the ,gothic and ,lombardic invasions1 representative of a large number of thirteenth century arcades and doors4 ,observe that #f d is shown to be of a late school by its finial1 and #f e of the latest school by its finial1 complete ogee arch 7instead of round or pointed71 and abandonment of the lintel4 ,these examples1 with the exception of #f a1 which is a general form1 are all actually existing doors2 namely3 #f b4 ,in the ,fondamenta ,venier1 near ,st4 ,maria della ,salute4 #f c4 ,in the ,calle delle ,botteri1 between the ,rialto and ,san ,cassan4 #f d4 ,main door of ,san ,gregorio4 #f e4 ,door of a palace in ,rio ,san ,paternian4 #g a4 ,door of a small courtyard near house of ,marco ,polo4 #g b4 ,arcade in narrow canal1 at the side of ,casa ,barbaro4 #g c4 ,at the turn of the canal1 close to the ,ponte dell' ,angelo4 #g d4 ,in ,rio ,san ,paternian 7a ruinous house74 #g e4 ,at the turn of the canal on which the ,sotto ,portico della ,stua opens1 near ,san ,zaccaria4 ,if the reader will take a magnifying glass to the figure #f d1 he will see that its square ornaments1 of which1 in the real door1 each contains a rose1 diminish to the apex of the arch2 a very interesting and characteristic circumstance1 showing the subtle feeling of the ,gothic builders4 ,they must needs diminish the ornamentation1 in order to sympathize with the delicacy of the point of the arch4 ,the magnifying glass will also show the ,bondumieri shield in ,no4 #g d1 and the ,leze shield in ,no4 #g e1 both introduced on the keystones in the grand early manner4 ,the mouldings of these various doors will be noticed under the head ,archivolt4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,vi4 ,,byzantine ,,jambs4 ,now1 throughout the city we find a number of doors resembling the square doors of ,st4 ,mark1 and occurring with rare exceptions either in buildings of the ,byzantine period1 or imbedded in restored houses2 never1 in a single instance1 forming a connected portion of any late building2 and they therefore furnish a most important piece of evidence1 wherever they are part of the original structure of a ,gothic building1 that such building is one of the advanced guards of the ,gothic school1 and belongs to its earliest period4 ,on ,plate ,,vi41 opposite1 are assembled all the important examples ,i could find in ,venice of these mouldings4 ,the reader will see at a glance their peculiar character1 and unmistakable likeness to each other4 ,the following are the references3 #a4 ,door in ,calle ,mocenigo4 #b4 ,angle of tomb of ,dogaressa ,vital ,michele4 #c4 ,door in ,sotto ,portico1 ,st4 ,apollonia 7near ,ponte di ,canonica74 #d4 ,door in ,calle della ,verona 7another like it is close by74 #e4 ,angle of tomb of ,doge ,marino ,morosini4 #f1 #g4 ,door in ,calle ,mocenigo4 #h4 ,door in ,campo ,s4 ,margherita4 ,plate ,,vi4 #i4 ,door at ,traghetto ,san ,samuele1 on south side of ,grand ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,canal4 #aj4 ,door at ,ponte ,st4 ,toma4 #aa4 ,great door of ,church of ,servi4 #ab4 ,in ,calle della ,chiesa1 ,campo ,san ,filippo e ,giacomo4 #ac4 ,door of house in ,calle di ,rimedio 7,vol4 ,,ii474 #ad4 ,door in ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #ae4 ,door in ,fondamenta ,malcanton1 near ,campo ,s4 ,margherita4 #af4 ,door in south side of ,canna ,reggio4 #ag1 #ah4 ,doors in ,sotto ,portico dei ,squellini4 ,the principal points to be noted in these mouldings are their curious differences of level1 as marked by the dotted lines1 more especially in #ad1 #ae1 #af1 and the systematic projection of the outer or lower mouldings in #af1 #ag1 #ah4 ,then1 as points of evidence1 observe that #a is the jamb and #f the archivolt 7#g the angle on a larger scale7 of the brick door given in my folio work from ,ramo di rimpetto ,mocenigo1 one of the evidences of the early date of that door2 #h is the jamb of the door in ,campo ,santa ,margherita 7also given in my folio work71 fixing the early date of that also2 #aj is from a ,gothic door opening off the ,ponte ,st4 ,toma2 and #aa is also from a ,gothic building4 ,all the rest are from ,byzantine work1 or from ruins4 ,the angle of the tomb of ,marino ,morosini 7#e7 is given for comparison only4 ,the doors with the mouldings #ag1 #ah1 are from the two ends of a small dark passage1 called the ,sotto ,portico dei ,squellini1 opening near ,ponte ,cappello1 on the ,rio-,marin3 #ad is the outside one1 arranged as usual1 and at a1 in the rough stone1 are places for the staples of the door valve2 #ae1 at the other end of the passage1 opening into the little ,corte dei ,squellini1 is set with the part a outwards1 it also having places for hinges2 but it is curious that the rich moulding should be set in towards the dark passage1 though natural that the doors should both open one way4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,vii4 ,,gothic ,,jambs4 ,the next ,plate1 ,,vii41 will show the principal characters of the ,gothic jambs1 and the total difference between them and the ,byzantine ones4 ,two more ,byzantine forms1 #a and #b1 are given here for the sake of comparison2 then #c1 #d1 and #e are the common profiles of simple jambs of doors in the ,gothic period2 #f is one of the jambs of the ,frari windows1 continuous into the archivolt1 and meeting the traceries1 where the line is set upon it at the extremity of its main slope2 #g and #h are jambs of the ,ducal ,palace windows1 in which the great semicircle is the half shaft which sustains the traceries1 and the rest of the profile is continuous in the archivolt2 #ag1 #ah1 and #ai are the principal piers of the ,ducal ,palace2 and #bj1 from ,st4 ,fermo of ,verona1 is put with them in order to show the step of transition from the ,byzantine form #b to the ,gothic chamfer1 which is hardly represented at ,venice4 ,the other profiles on the plate are all late ,gothic1 given to show the gradual increase of complexity without any gain of power4 ,the open lines in #ab1 #ad1 #af1 etc41 are the parts of the profile cut into flowers or cable mouldings2 and so much incised as to show the constant outline of the cavetto or curve beneath them4 ,the following are the references3 #a4 ,door in house of ,marco ,polo4 #b4 ,old door in a restored church of ,st4 ,cassan4 #c1 #d1 #e4 ,common jambs of ,gothic doors4 #f4 ,frari windows4 #g1 #h4 ,ducal ,palace windows4 #i4 ,casa ,priuli1 great entrance4 #aj4 ,san ,stefano1 great door4 ,,plate ,,vii4 #aa4 ,san ,gregorio1 door opening to the water4 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #ab4 ,lateral door1 ,frari4 #ac4 ,door of ,campo ,san ,zaccaria4 #ad4 ,madonna dell',orto4 #ae4 ,san ,gregorio1 door in the faade4 #af4 ,great lateral door1 ,frari4 #ag4 ,pilaster at ,vine angle1 ,ducal ,palace4 #ah4 ,pier1 inner cortile1 ,ducal ,palace4 #ai4 ,pier1 under the medallion of ,venice1 on the ,piazetta faade of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,,iii4 ,capitals4 ,i shall here notice the various facts ,i have omitted in the text of the work4 ,first1 with respect to the ,byzantine ,capitals represented in ,plate ,,vii4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 ,i omitted to notice that figs4 #f and #g represent two sides of the same capital at ,murano 7though one is necessarily drawn on a smaller scale than the other74 ,fig4 #g is the side turned to the light1 and fig4 #f to the shade1 the inner part1 which is quite concealed1 not being touched at all4 ,we have here a conclusive proof that these capitals were cut for their place in the apse2 therefore ,i have always considered them as tests of ,venetian workmanship1 and1 on the strength of that proof1 have occasionally spoken of capitals as of true ,venetian work1 which ,m4 ,lazari supposes to be of the ,lower ,empire4 ,no4 #aa1 from ,st4 ,mark's1 was not above noticed4 ,the way in which the cross is gradually left in deeper relief as the sides slope inwards and away from it1 is highly picturesque and curious4 ,no4 #i has been reduced from a larger drawing1 and some of the life and character of the curves lost in consequence4 ,it is chiefly given to show the irregular and fearless freedom of the ,byzantine designers1 no two parts of the foliage being correspondent2 in the original it is of white marble1 the ground being colored blue4 ,plate ,x4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 represents the four principal orders of ,venetian capitals in their greatest simplicity1 and the profiles of the most interesting examples of each4 ,the figures #a and #d are the two great concave and convex groups1 and #b and #c the transitional4 ,above each type of form ,i have put also an example of the group of flowers which represent it in nature3 fig4 #a has a lily2 fig4 #b a variety of the ,tulipa sylvestris2 figs4 #c and #d forms of the magnolia4 ,i prepared this plate in the early spring1 when ,i could not get any other examples1#fe or ,i would rather have had two different species for figs4 #c and #d2 but the half-open magnolia will answer the purpose1 showing the beauty of the triple curvature in the sides4 ,i do not say that the forms of the capitals are actually taken from flowers1 though assuredly so in some instances1 and partially so in the decoration of nearly all4 ,but they were designed by men of pure and natural feeling for beauty1 who therefore instinctively adopted the forms represented1 which are afterwards proved to be beautiful by their frequent occurrence in common flowers4 ,the convex forms1 #c and #d1 are put lowest in the plate only because they are heaviest2 they are the earliest in date1 and have already been enough examined4 ,i have added a plate to this volume 7,plate ,,xii471 which should have appeared in illustration of the fifth chapter of ,vol4 ,,ii41 but was not finished in time4 ,it represents the central capital and two of the lateral ones of the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 the central one drawn very large1 in order to show the excessive simplicity of its chiselling1 together with the care and sharpness of it1 each leaf being expressed by a series of sharp furrows and ridges4 ,some slight errors in the large tracings from which the engraving was made have1 however1 occasioned a loss of spring in the curves1 and the little fig4 #d of ,plate ,x4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 gives a truer idea of the distant effect of the capital4 ,the profiles given in ,plate ,x4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 are the following3 #a4 a4 ,main capitals1 upper arcade1 ,madonnetta ,house4 b4 ,main capitals1 upper arcade1 ,casa ,falier4 c4 ,lateral capitals1 upper arcade1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 d4 ,small pillars of ,st4 ,mark's ,pulpit4 e4 ,casa ,farsetti4 f4 ,inner capitals of arcade of ,ducal ,palace4 g4 ,plinth of the house#ff at ,apostoli4 h4 ,main capitals of house at ,apostoli4 i4 ,main capitals1 upper arcade1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #b4 a4 ,lower arcade1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 b1 c4 ,lower pillars1 house at ,apostoli4 d4 ,san ,simeon ,grande4 ,,plate ,x4 e4 ,restored house on ,grand ,canal4 ,three of the old arches left4 vol4 ,,ii4 f4 ,upper arcade1 ,ducal ,palace4 g4 ,windows of third order1 central shaft1 ,ducal ,palace4 h4 ,windows of third order1 lateral shaft1 ,ducal ,palace4 i4 ,ducal ,palace1 main shafts4 k4 ,piazzetta shafts4 #c4 a4 ,st4 ,mark's ,nave4 b1 c4 ,lily capitals1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #d4 a4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 central shaft1 upper arcade4 b4 ,murano1 upper arcade4 c4 ,murano1 lower arcade4 d4 ,tomb of ,st4 ,isidore4 e4 ,general late ,gothic profile4 ,the last two sections are convex in effect1 though not in reality2 the bulging lines being carved into bold flower-work4 ,the capitals belonging to the groups #a and #b1 in the ,byzantine times1 have already been illustrated in ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,,ii42 we have yet to trace their succession in the ,gothic times4 ,this is done in ,plate ,,ii4 of this volume1 which we will now examine carefully4 ,the following are the capitals represented in that plate3 #a4 ,small shafts of ,st4 ,mark's ,pulpit4 #b4 ,from the transitional house in the ,calle di ,rimedio 7conf4 ,vol4 ,,ii474 #c4 ,general simplest form of the middle ,gothic capital4 #d4 ,nave of ,san ,giacomo de ,lorio4 #e4 ,casa ,falier4 #f4 ,early ,gothic house in ,campo ,sta4 ,ma4 ,mater ,domini4 ,,plate ,,ii4 #g4 ,house at the ,apostoli4 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #h4 ,piazzetta shafts4 #i4 ,ducal ,palace1 upper arcade4 #aj4 ,palace of ,marco ,querini4 #aa4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #ab4 ,gothic palaces in ,campo ,san ,polo4 #ac4 ,windows of fourth order1 ,plate ,,xvi4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 #ad4 ,nave of ,church of ,san ,stefano4 #ae4 ,late ,gothic ,palace at the ,miracoli4 ,the two lateral columns form a consecutive series3 the central column is a group of exceptional character1 running parallel with both4 ,we will take the lateral ones first4 #a4 ,capital of pulpit of ,st4 ,mark's 7representative of the simplest concave forms of the ,byzantine period74 ,look back to ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 and observe that while all the forms in that plate are contemporaneous1 we are now going to follow a series consecutive in time1 which begins from fig4 #a1 either in that plate or in this2 that is to say1 with the simplest possible condition to be found at the time2 and which proceeds to develope itself into gradually increasing richness1 while the already rich capitals of the old school die at its side4 ,in the forms #ad and #ae 7,plate ,,viii47 the ,byzantine school expired2 but from the ,byzantine simple capital 7#a1 ,plate ,,ii4 above7 which was coexistent with them1 sprang another hardy race of capitals1 whose succession we have now to trace4 ,the form #a1 ,plate ,,ii4 is evidently the simplest conceivable condition of the truncated capital1 long ago represented generally in ,vol4 ,i41 being only rounded a little on its side to fit it to the shaft4 ,the next step was to place a leaf beneath each of the truncations 7fig4 #d1 ,plate ,,ii41 ,san ,giacomo de ,lorio71 the end of the leaf curling over at the top in a somewhat formal spiral1 partly connected with the traditional volute of the ,corinthian capital4 ,the sides are then enriched by the addition of some ornament1 as a shield 7fig4 #g7 or rose 7fig4 #aj71 and we have the formed capital of the early ,gothic4 ,fig4 #aj1 being from the palace of ,marco ,querini1 is certainly not later than the middle of the thirteenth century 7see ,vol4 ,,ii471 and fig4 #g1 is1 ,i believe1 of the same date2 it is one of the bearing capitals of the lower story of the palace at the ,apostoli1 and is remarkably fine in the treatment of its angle leaves1 which are not deeply under-cut1 but show their magnificent sweeping under surface all the way down1 not as a leaf surface1 but treated like the gorget of a helmet1 with a curved line across it like that where the gorget meets the mail4 ,i never saw anything finer in simple design4 ,fig4 #aj is given chiefly as a certification of date1 and to show the treatment of the capitals of this school on a small scale4 ,observe the more expansive head in proportion to the diameter of the shaft1 the leaves being drawn from the angles1 as if gathered in the hand1 till their edges meet2 and compare the rule given in ,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,,ix4 ,,xiv4 ,the capitals of the remarkable house1 of which a portion is represented in ,fig4 ,,xxxi4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 are most curious and pure examples of this condition2 with experimental trefoils1 roses1 and leaves introduced between their volutes4 ,when compared with those of the ,querini ,palace1 they form one of the most important evidences of the date of the building4 ,fig4 #ac4 ,one of the bearing capitals1 already drawn on a small scale in the windows represented in ,plate ,,xvi4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,now1 observe4 ,the capital of the form of fig4 #aj appeared sufficient to the ,venetians for all ordinary purposes2 and they used it in common windows to the latest ,gothic periods1 but yet with certain differences which at once show the lateness of the work4 ,in the first place1 the rose1 which at first was flat and quatrefoiled1 becomes1 after some experiments1 a round ball dividing into three leaves1 closely resembling our ,english ball flower1 and probably derived from it2 and1 in other cases1 forming a bold projecting bud in various degrees of contraction or expansion4 ,in the second place1 the extremities of the angle leaves are wrought into rich flowing lobes1 and bent back so as to lap against their own breasts2 showing lateness of date in exact proportion to the looseness of curvature4 ,fig4 #c represents the general aspect of these later capitals1 which may be conveniently called the rose capitals of ,venice2 two are seen on service1 in ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,i41 showing comparatively early date by the experimental form of the six-foiled rose4 ,but for elaborate edifices this form was not sufficiently rich2 and there was felt to be something awkward in the junction of the leaves at the bottom4 ,therefore1 four other shorter leaves were added at the sides1 as in fig4 #ac1 ,plate ,,ii41 and as generally represented in ,plate ,x4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 fig4 #a4 ,this was a good and noble step1 taken very early in the thirteenth century2 and all the best ,venetian capitals were thenceforth of this form4 ,those which followed1 and rested in the common rose type1 were languid and unfortunate3 ,i do not know a single good example of them after the first half of the thirteenth century4 ,but the form reached in fig4 #ac was quickly felt to be of great value and power4 ,one would have thought it might have been taken straight from the ,corinthian type2 but it is clearly the work of men who were making experiments for themselves4 ,for instance1 in the central capital of ,fig4 ,,xxxi4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 there is a trial condition of it1 with the intermediate leaf set behind those at the angles 7the reader had better take a magnifying glass to this woodcut2 it will show the character of the capitals better74 ,two other experimental forms occur in the ,casa ,cicogna 7,vol4 ,,ii471 and supply one of the evidences which fix the date of that palace4 ,but the form soon was determined as in fig4 #ac1 and then means were sought of recommending it by farther decoration4 ,the leaves which are used in fig4 #ac1 it will be observed1 have lost the ,corinthian volute1 and are now pure and plain leaves1 such as were used in the ,lombardic ,gothic of the early thirteenth century all over ,italy4 ,now in a round-arched gateway at ,verona1 certainly not later than #acjj2 the pointed leaves of this pure form are used in one portion of the mouldings1 and in another are enriched by having their surfaces carved each into a beautiful ribbed and pointed leaf4 ,the capital1 fig4 #f1 ,plate ,,ii41 is nothing more than fig4 #ac so enriched2 and the two conditions are quite contemporary1 fig4 #ac being from a beautiful series of fourth order windows in ,campo ,sta4 ,ma4 ,mater ,domini1 already drawn in my folio work4 ,fig4 #ac is representative of the richest conditions of ,gothic capital which existed at the close of the thirteenth century4 ,the builder of the ,ducal ,palace amplified them into the form of fig4 #i1 but varying the leafage in disposition and division of lobes in every capital2 and the workmen trained under him executed many noble capitals for the ,gothic palaces of the early fourteenth century1 of which fig4 #ab1 from a palace in the ,campo ,st4 ,polo1 is one of the most beautiful examples4 ,in figs4 #i and #ab the reader sees the ,venetian ,gothic capital in its noblest developement4 ,the next step was to such forms as fig4 #ae1 which is generally characteristic of the late fourteenth and early fifteenth century ,gothic1 and of which ,i hope the reader will at once perceive the exaggeration and corruption4 ,this capital is from a palace near the ,miracoli1 and it is remarkable for the delicate1 though corrupt1 ornament on its abacus1 which is precisely the same as that on the pillars of the screen of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,that screen is a monument of very great value1 for it shows the entire corruption of the ,gothic power1 and the style of the later palaces accurately and completely defined in all its parts1 and is dated #achj2 thus at once furnishing us with a limiting date1 which throws all the noble work of the early ,ducal ,palace1 and all that is like it in ,venice1 thoroughly back into the middle of the fourteenth century at the latest4 ,fig4 #b is the simplest condition of the capital universally employed in the windows of the second order1 noticed above1 ,vol4 ,,ii41 as belonging to a style of great importance in the transitional architecture of ,venice4 ,observe1 that in all the capitals given in the lateral columns in ,plate ,,ii41 the points of the leaves turn over4 ,but in this central group they lie flat against the angle of the capital1 and form a peculiarly light and lovely succession of forms1 occurring only in their purity in the windows of the second order1 and in some important monuments connected with them4 ,in fig4 #b the leaf at the angle is cut1 exactly in the manner of an ,egyptian bas-relief1 into the stone1 with a raised edge round it1 and a raised rib up the centre2 and this mode of execution1 seen also in figs4 #d and #g1 is one of the collateral evidences of early date4 ,but in figs4 #e and #h1 where more elaborate effect was required1 the leaf is thrown out boldly with an even edge from the surface of the capital1 and enriched on its own surface3 and as the treatment of fig4 #b corresponds with that of fig4 #d1 so that of fig4 #e corresponds with that of fig4 #f2 #b and #e having the upright leaf1 #d and #f the bending leaves2 but all contemporary4 ,fig4 #e is the central capital of the windows of ,casa ,falier1 drawn in ,plate ,,xv4 ,vol4 ,,ii42 and one of the leaves set on its angles is drawn larger at fig4 #g1 ,plate ,,xx4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,it has no rib1 but a sharp raised ridge down its centre2 and its lobes1 of which the reader will observe the curious form1--round in the middle one1 truncated in the sides1--are wrought with a precision and care which ,i have hardly ever seen equalled3 but of this more presently4 ,the next figure 7#h1 ,plate ,,ii47 is the most important capital of the whole transitional period1 that employed on the two columns of the ,piazzetta4 ,these pillars are said to have been raised in the close of the twelfth century1 but ,i cannot find even the most meagre account of their bases1 capitals1 or1 which seems to me most wonderful1 of that noble winged lion1 one of the grandest things produced by medival art1 which all men admire1 and none can draw4 ,i have never yet seen a faithful representation of his firm1 fierce1 and fiery strength4 ,i believe that both he and the capital which bears him are late thirteenth century work4 ,i have not been up to the lion1 and cannot answer for it2 but if it be not thirteenth century work1 it is as good2 and respecting the capitals1 there can be small question4 ,they are of exactly the date of the oldest tombs1 bearing crosses1 outside of ,st4 ,john and ,paul2 and are associated with all the other work of the transitional period1 from #abej to #acjj 7the bases of these pillars1 representing the trades of ,venice1 ought1 by the by1 to have been mentioned as among the best early efforts of ,venetian grotesque72 and1 besides1 their abaci are formed by four reduplications of the dentilled mouldings of ,st4 ,mark's1 which never occur after the year #acjj4 ,nothing can be more beautiful or original than the adaptation of these broad bearing abaci2 but as they have nothing to do with the capital itself1 and could not easily be brought into the space1 they are omitted in ,plate ,,ii41 where fig4 #h shows the bell of the capital only4 ,its profile is curiously subtle1--apparently concave everywhere1 but in reality concave 7all the way down7 only on the angles1 and slightly convex at the sides 7the profile through the side being #b k1 ,plate ,x4 ,vol4 ,,ii472 in this subtlety of curvature1 as well as in the simple cross1 showing the influence of early times4 ,the leaf on the angle1 of which more presently1 is fig4 #e1 ,plate ,,xx4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,connected with this school of transitional capitals we find a form in the later ,gothic1 such as fig4 #ad1 from the ,church of ,san ,stefano2 but which appears in part derived from an old and rich ,byzantine type1 of which fig4 #aa1 from the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 is a characteristic example4 ,i must now take the reader one step farther1 and ask him to examine1 finally1 the treatment of the leaves1 down to the cutting of their most minute lobes1 in the series of capitals of which we have hitherto only sketched the general forms4 ,in all capitals with nodding leaves1 such as #f and #i in ,plate ,,ii41 the real form of the leaf is not to be seen1 except in perspective2 but1 in order to render the comparison more easy1 ,i have in ,plate ,,xx4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 opened all the leaves out1 as if they were to be dried in a herbarium1 only leaving the furrows and sinuosities of surface1 but laying the outside contour nearly flat upon the page1 except for a particular reason in figs4 #b1 #aj1 #aa1 and #ae4 ,i shall first1 as usual1 give the references1 and then note the points of interest4 #a1 #b1 #c4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 upper arcade4 #d4 ,greek pillars brought from ,st4 ,jean d',acre4 #e4 ,piazzetta shafts4 #f4 ,madonnetta ,house4 ,,plate ,,xx4 #g4 ,casa ,falier4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 #h4 ,palace near ,st4 ,eustachio4 #i4 ,tombs1 outside of ,st4 ,john and ,paul4 #aj4 ,tomb of ,giovanni ,soranzo4 #aa4 ,tomb of ,andrea ,dandolo4 #ab1 #ac1 #ad4 ,ducal ,palace4 ,n4,b4 ,the upper row1 #a to #d1 is ,byzantine1 the next transitional1 the last two ,gothic4 ,fig4 #a4 ,the leaf of the capital ,no4 #f1 ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,each lobe of the leaf has a sharp furrow up to its point1 from its root4 ,fig4 #b4 ,the leaf of the capital on the right hand1 at the top of ,plate ,,xii4 in this volume4 ,the lobes worked in the same manner1 with deep black drill holes between their points4 ,fig4 #c4 ,one of the leaves of fig4 #ad1 ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 fully unfolded4 ,the lobes worked in the same manner1 but left shallow1 so as not to destroy the breadth of light2 the central line being drawn by drill holes1 and the interstices between lobes cut black and deep4 ,fig4 #d4 ,leaf with flower2 pure ,byzantine work1 showing whence the treatment of all the other leaves has been derived4 ,fig4 #f4 ,for the sake of symmetry1 this is put in the centre3 it is the earliest of the three in this row2 taken from the ,madonnetta ,house1 where the capitals have leaves both at their sides and angles4 ,the tall angle leaf1 with its two lateral ones1 is given in the plate2 and there is a remarkable distinction in the mode of workmanship of these leaves1 which1 though found in a palace of the ,byzantine period1 is indicative of a tendency to transition2 namely1 that the sharp furrow is now drawn only to the central lobe of each division of the leaf1 and the rest of the surface of the leaf is left nearly flat1 a slight concavity only marking the division of the extremities4 ,at the base of these leaves they are perfectly flat1 only cut by the sharp and narrow furrow1 as an elevated table-land is by ravines4 ,fig4 #e4 ,a more advanced condition2 the fold at the recess1 between each division of the leaf1 carefully expressed1 and the concave or depressed portions of the extremities marked more deeply1 as well as the central furrow1 and a rib added in the centre4 ,fig4 #g4 ,a contemporary1 but more finished form2 the sharp furrows becoming softer1 and the whole leaf more flexible4 ,fig4 #h4 ,an exquisite form of the same period1 but showing still more advanced naturalism1 from a very early group of third order windows1 near the ,church of ,st4 ,eustachio on the ,grand ,canal4 ,fig4 #i4 ,of the same time1 from a small capital of an angle shaft of the sarcophagi at the side of ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 in the little square which is adorned by the ,colleone statue4 ,this leaf is very quaint and pretty in giving its midmost lateral divisions only two lobes each1 instead of the usual three or four4 ,fig4 #aj4 ,leaf employed in the cornice of the tomb of the ,doge ,giovanni ,soranzo1 who died in #acab4 ,it nods over1 and has three ribs on its upper surface2 thus giving us the completed ideal form of the leaf1 but its execution is still very archaic and severe4 ,now the next example1 fig4 #aa1 is from the tomb of the ,doge ,andrea ,dandolo1 and therefore executed between #aced and #acfj2 and this leaf shows the ,gothic naturalism and refinement of curvature fully developed4 ,in this forty years' interval1 then1 the principal advance of ,gothic sculpture is to be placed4 ,i had prepared a complete series of examples1 showing this advance1 and the various ways in which the separations of the ribs1 a most characteristic feature1 are more and more delicately and scientifically treated1 from the beginning to the middle of the fourteenth century1 but ,i feared that no general reader would care to follow me into these minuti1 and have cancelled this portion of the work1 at least for the present1 the main point being1 that the reader should feel the full extent of the change1 which he can hardly fail to do in looking from fig4 #aj to figs4 #aa and #ab4 ,i believe that fig4 #ab is the earlier of the two2 and it is assuredly the finer1 having all the elasticity and simplicity of the earliest forms1 with perfect flexibility added4 ,in fig4 #aa there is a perilous element beginning to develope itself into one feature1 namely1 the extremities of the leaves1 which1 instead of merely nodding over1 now curl completely round into a kind of ball4 ,this occurs early1 and in the finest ,gothic work1 especially in cornices and other running mouldings3 but it is a fatal symptom1 a beginning of the intemperance of the later ,gothic1 and it was followed out with singular avidity2 the ball of coiled leafage increasing in size and complexity1 and at last becoming the principal feature of the work2 the light striking on its vigorous projection1 as in fig4 #ad4 ,nearly all the ,renaissance ,gothic of ,venice depends upon these balls for effect1 a late capital being generally composed merely of an upper and lower range of leaves terminating in this manner4 ,it is very singular and notable how1 in this loss of temperance1 there is loss of life4 ,for truly healthy and living leaves do not bind themselves into knots at the extremities4 ,they bend1 and wave1 and nod1 but never curl4 ,it is in disease1 or in death1 by blight1 or frost1 or poison only1 that leaves in general assume this ingathered form4 ,it is the flame of autumn that has shrivelled them1 or the web of the caterpillar that has bound them3 and thus the last forms of the ,venetian leafage set forth the fate of ,venetian pride2 and1 in their utmost luxuriance and abandonment1 perish as if eaten of worms4 ,and now1 by glancing back to ,plate ,x4 ,vol4 ,,ii1 the reader will see in a moment the kind of evidence which is found of the date of capitals in their profiles merely4 ,observe3 we have seen that the treatment of the leaves in the ,madonnetta ,house seemed indicative of a tendency to transition4 ,note their profile1 #a;a1 and its close correspondence with #a h1 which is actually of a transitional capital from the upper arcade of second order windows in the ,apostoli ,palace2 yet both shown to be very close to the ,byzantine period1 if not belonging to it1 by their fellowship with the profile i1 from the ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 ,then note the close correspondence of all the other profiles in that line1 which belong to the concave capitals or plinths of the ,byzantine palaces1 and note their composition1 the abacus being1 in idea1 merely an echo or reduplication of the capital itself2 as seen in perfect simplicity in the profile f1 which is a roll under a tall concave curve forming the bell of the capital1 with a roll and short concave curve for its abacus4 ,this peculiar abacus is an unfailing test of early date2 and our finding this simple profile used for the ,ducal ,palace 7f71 is strongly confirmatory of all our former conclusions4 ,then the next row1 #b1 are the ,byzantine and early ,gothic semi-convex curves1 in their pure forms1 having no roll below2 but often with a roll added1 as at f1 and in certain early ,gothic conditions curiously fused into it1 with a cavetto between1 as b1 c1 d4 ,but the more archaic form is as at f and k2 and as these two profiles are from the ,ducal ,palace and ,piazzetta shafts1 they join again with the rest of the evidence of their early date4 ,the profiles i and k are both most beautiful2 i is that of the great capitals of the ,ducal ,palace1 and the small profiles between it and k are the varieties used on the fillet at its base4 ,the profile i should have had leaves springing from it1 as #a h has1 only more boldly1 but there was no room for them4 ,the reader cannot fail to discern at a glance the fellowship of the whole series of profiles1 #b a to k1 nor can he but with equal ease observe a marked difference in #d d and #d e from any others in the plate2 the bulging outlines of leafage being indicative of the luxuriant and flowing masses1 no longer expressible with a simple line1 but to be considered only as confined within it1 of the later ,gothic4 ,now d is a dated profile from the tomb of ,st4 ,isidore1 #acee1 which by its dog-tooth abacus and heavy leafage distinguishes itself from all the other profiles1 and therefore throws them back into the first half of the century4 ,but1 observe1 it still retains the noble swelling root4 ,this character soon after vanishes2 and1 in #achj1 the profile e1 at once heavy1 feeble1 and ungraceful1 with a meagre and valueless abacus hardly discernible1 is characteristic of all the capitals of ,venice4 ,note1 finally1 this contraction of the abacus4 ,compare #d c1 which is the earliest form in the plate1 from ,murano1 with #d e1 which is the latest4 ,the other profiles show the gradual process of change2 only observe1 in #c;a the abacus is not drawn2 it is so bold that it would not come into the plate without reducing the bell curve to too small a scale4 ,so much for the evidence derivable from the capitals2 we have next to examine that of the archivolts or arch mouldings4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,viii4 ,,byzantine ,,archivolts4 ,,iv4 ,archivolts4 ,in ,plate ,,viii41 opposite1 are arranged in one view all the conditions of ,byzantine archivolt employed in ,venice1 on a large scale4 ,it will be seen in an instant that there can be no mistaking the manner of their masonry4 ,the soffit of the arch is the horizontal line at the bottom of all these profiles1 and each of them 7except #ac1 #ad7 is composed of two slabs of marble1 one for the soffit1 another for the face of the arch2 the one on the soffit is worked on the edge into a roll 7fig4 #aj7 or dentil 7fig4 #i71 and the one on the face is bordered on the other side by another piece let edgeways into the wall1 and also worked into a roll or dentil3 in the richer archivolts a cornice is added to this roll1 as in figs4 #a and #d1 or takes its place1 as in figs4 #a1 #c1 #e1 and #f2 and in such richer examples the facestone1 and often the soffit1 are sculptured1 the sculpture being cut into their surfaces1 as indicated in fig4 #aa4 ,the concavities cut in the facestones of #a1 #b1 #d1 #e1 #f are all indicative of sculpture in effect like that of ,fig4 ,,xxvi4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 of which archivolt fig4 #e1 here1 is the actual profile4 ,the following are the references to the whole3 #a4 ,rio-,foscari ,house4 #b4 ,terraced ,house1 entrance door4 #c4 ,small ,porticos of ,st4 ,mark's1 external arches4 #d4 ,arch on the canal at ,ponte ,st4 ,toma4 #e4 ,arch of ,corte del ,remer4 #f4 ,great outermost archivolt of central door1 ,st4 ,mark's4 ,,plate ,,viii4 #g4 ,inner archivolt of southern porch1 ,st4 ,mark's ,faade4 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #h4 ,inner archivolt of central entrance1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #i4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 main arcade4 #aj4 ,byzantine restored house on ,grand ,canal1 lower arcade4 #aa4 ,terraced ,house1 upper arcade4 #ab4 ,inner archivolt of northern porch of faade1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #ac and #ad4 ,transitional forms4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,ix4 ,,gothic ,,archivolts4 ,there is little to be noted respecting these forms1 except that1 in fig4 #a1 the two lower rolls1 with the angular projections between1 represent the fall of the mouldings of two proximate arches on the abacus of the bearing shaft2 their two cornices meeting each other1 and being gradually narrowed into the little angular intermediate piece1 their sculptures being slurred into the contracted space1 a curious proof of the earliness of the work4 ,the real archivolt moulding is the same as fig4 #d c c1 including only the midmost of the three rolls in fig4 #a4 ,it will be noticed that #b1 #e1 #f1 and #h are sculptured on the soffits as well as the faces2 #i is the common profile of arches decorated only with colored marble1 the facestone being colored1 the soffit white4 ,the effect of such a moulding is seen in the small windows at the right hand of ,fig4 ,,xxvi4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,the reader will now see that there is but little difficulty in identifying ,byzantine work1 the archivolt mouldings being so similar among themselves1 and so unlike any others4 ,we have next to examine the ,gothic forms4 ,figs4 #ac and #ad in ,plate ,,viii4 represent the first brick mouldings of the transitional period1 occurring in such instances as ,fig4 ,,xxiii4 or ,fig4 ,,xxxiii4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 7the soffit stone of the ,byzantine mouldings being taken away71 and this profile1 translated into solid stone1 forms the almost universal moulding of the windows of the second order4 ,these two brick mouldings are repeated1 for the sake of comparison1 at the top of ,plate ,,ix4 opposite2 and the upper range of mouldings which they commence1 in that plate1 are the brick mouldings of ,venice in the early ,gothic period4 ,all the forms below are in stone2 and the moulding #b1 translated into stone1 forms the universal archivolt of the early pointed arches of ,venice1 and windows of second and third orders4 ,the moulding #a is much rarer1 and used for the most part in doors only4 ,the reader will see at once the resemblance of character in the various flat brick mouldings1 #c to #aa4 ,they belong to such arches as #a and #b in ,plate ,,xvii4 ,vol4 ,,ii42 or #f b1 #f c1 in ,plate ,,xiv4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 #g and #h being actually the mouldings of those two doors2 the whole group being perfectly defined1 and separate from all the other ,gothic work in ,venice1 and clearly the result of an effort to imitate1 in brickwork1 the effect of the flat sculptured archivolts of the ,byzantine times4 7,see ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,chap4 ,,vii4 ,,xxxvii47 ,then comes the group #ad to #ah in stone1 derived from the mouldings #a and #b2 first by truncation1 #ad2 then by beading the truncated angle1 #ae1 #af4 ,the occurrence of the profile #af in the three beautiful windows represented in the uppermost figure of ,plate ,,xviii4 ,vol4 ,i4 renders that group of peculiar interest1 and is strong evidence of its antiquity4 ,then a cavetto is added1 #ag2 first shallow and then deeper1 #ah1 which is the common archivolt moulding of the central ,gothic door and window3 but1 in the windows of the early fourth order1 this moulding is complicated by various additions of dog-tooth mouldings under the dentil1 as in #bj2 or the gabled dentil 7see fig4 #bj1 ,plate ,,ix4 ,vol4 ,i71 as fig4 #ba2 or both1 as figs #bc1 #bd4 ,all these varieties expire in the advanced period1 and the established moulding for windows is #bi4 ,the intermediate group1 #be to #bh1 ,i found only in the high windows of the third order in the ,ducal ,palace1 or in the ,chapter-house of the ,frari1 or in the arcades of the ,ducal ,palace2 the great outside lower arcade of the ,ducal ,palace has the profile #ca1 the left-hand side being the innermost4 ,now observe1 all these archivolts1 without exception1 assume that the spectator looks from the outside only3 none are complete on both sides2 they are essentially window mouldings1 and have no resemblance to those of our perfect ,gothic arches prepared for traceries4 ,if they were all completely drawn in the plate1 they should be as fig4 #be1 having a great depth of wall behind the mouldings1 but it was useless to represent this in every case4 ,the ,ducal ,palace begins to show mouldings on both sides1 #bh1 #ca2 and #ce is a complete arch moulding from the apse of the ,frari4 ,that moulding1 though so perfectly developed1 is earlier than the ,ducal ,palace1 and with other features of the building1 indicates the completeness of the ,gothic system1 which made the architect of the ,ducal ,palace found his work principally upon that church4 ,the other examples in this plate show the various modes of combination employed in richer archivolts4 ,the triple change of slope in #ch is very curious4 ,the references are as follows3 #a4 ,transitional to the second order4 #b4 ,common second order4 #c4 ,brick1 at ,corte del ,forno1 ,round arch4 #d4 ,door at ,san ,giovanni ,grisostomo4 #e4 ,door at ,sotto ,portico della ,stua4 #f4 ,door in ,campo ,st4 ,luca1 of rich brickwork4 #g4 ,round door at ,fondamenta ,venier4 #h4 ,pointed door4 ,fig4 #f;c1 ,plate ,,xiv4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 #i4 ,great pointed arch1 ,salizzada ,san ,lio4 #aj4 ,round door near ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #aa4 ,door with ,lion1 at ,ponte della ,corona4 #ab4 ,san ,gregorio1 ,faade4 #ac4 ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 ,nave4 #ad4 ,rare early fourth order1 at ,san ,cassan4 #ae4 ,general early ,gothic archivolt4 #af4 ,same1 from door in ,rio ,san ,g4 ,grisostomo4 #ag4 ,casa ,vittura4 #ah4 ,casa ,sagredo1 ,unique thirds4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 #ai4 ,murano ,palace1 ,unique fourths4#fg ,,plate ,,ix4 #bj4 ,pointed door of ,four-,evangelist ,house4#fh ,vol4 ,,iii4 #ba4 ,keystone door in ,campo ,st4 ,m4 ,formosa4 #bb4 ,rare fourths1 at ,st4 ,pantaleon4 #bc4 ,rare fourths1 ,casa ,papadopoli4 #bd4 ,rare fourths1 ,chess house4#fi #be4 ,thirds of ,frari ,cloister4 #bf4 ,great pointed arch of ,frari ,cloister4 #bg4 ,unique thirds1 ,ducal ,palace4 #bh4 ,inner ,cortile1 pointed arches1 ,ducal ,palace4 #bi4 ,common fourth and fifth order ,archivolt4 #cj4 ,unique thirds1 ,ducal ,palace4 #ca4 ,ducal ,palace1 lower arcade4 #cb4 ,casa ,priuli1 arches in the inner court4 #cc4 ,circle above the central window1 ,ducal ,palace4 #cd4 ,murano apse4 #ce4 ,acute-pointed arch1 ,frari4 #cf4 ,door of ,accademia delle belle ,arti4 #cg4 ,door in ,calle ,tiossi1 near ,four-,evangelist ,house4 #ch4 ,door in ,campo ,san ,polo4 #ci4 ,door of palace at ,ponte ,marcello4 #dj4 ,door of a palace close to the ,church of the ,miracoli4 ,v4 ,cornices4 ,plate ,x4 represents1 in one view1 the cornices or string-courses of ,venice1 and the abaci of its capitals1 early and late2 these two features being inseparably connected1 as explained in ,vol4 ,i4 ,the evidence given by these mouldings is exceedingly clear4 ,the two upper lines in the ,plate1 #a-aa1 #ab-bd1 are all plinths from ,byzantine buildings4 ,the reader will at once observe their unmistakable resemblances4 ,the row #da to #ej are contemporary abaci of capitals2 #eb1 #ec1 #ed1 #ef1 are examples of late ,gothic abaci2 and observe1 especially1 these are all rounded at the top of the cavetto1 but the ,byzantine abaci are rounded1 if at all1 at the bottom of the cavetto 7see #g1 #h1 #i1 #aj1 #bj1 #bh1 #df74 ,consider what a valuable test of date this is1 in any disputable building4 ,again1 compare #bh1 #bi1 one from ,st4 ,mark's1 the other from the ,ducal ,palace1 and observe the close resemblance1 giving farther evidence of early date in the palace4 #be and #ej are drawn to the same scale4 ,the former is the wall-cornice1 the latter the abacus of the great shafts1 in the ,casa ,loredan2 the one passing into the other1 as seen in ,fig4 ,,xxviii4 ,vol4 ,i4 ,it is curious to watch the change in proportion1 while the moulding1 all but the lower roll1 remains the same4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,x4 ,,cornices ,,and ,,abaci4 ,the following are the references3 #a4 ,common plinth of ,st4 ,mark's4 #b4 ,plinth above lily capitals1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #c1 #d4 ,plinths in early surface ,gothic4 #e4 ,plinth of door in ,campo ,st4 ,luca4 #f4 ,plinth of treasury door1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #g4 ,archivolts of nave1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #h4 ,archivolts of treasury door1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #i4 ,moulding of circular window in ,st4 ,john and ,paul4 #aj4 ,chief decorated narrow plinth1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #aa4 ,plinth of door1 ,campo ,st4 ,margherita4 #ab4 ,plinth of tomb of ,doge ,vital ,falier4 #ac4 ,lower plinth1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 and ,terraced ,house4 #ad4 ,running plinth of ,corte del ,remer4 #ae4 ,highest plinth at top of ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #af4 ,common ,byzantine plinth4 #ag4 ,running plinth of ,casa ,falier4 #ah4 ,plinth of arch at ,ponte ,st4 ,toma4 #ai1 #bj1 #ba4 ,plinths of tomb of ,doge ,vital ,falier4 #bb4 ,plinth of window in ,calle del ,pistor4 #bc4 ,plinth of tomb of ,dogaressa ,vital ,michele4 #bd4 ,archivolt in the ,frari4 #be4 ,running plinth1 ,casa ,loredan4 #bf4 ,running plinth1 under pointed arch1 in ,salizzada ,san ,lio4 #bg4 ,running plinth1 ,casa ,erizzo4 ,,plate ,x4 #bh4 ,circles in portico of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #bi4 ,ducal ,palace cornice1 lower arcade4 #cj4 ,ducal ,palace cornice1 upper arcade4 #ca4 ,central ,gothic plinth4 #cb4 ,late ,gothic plinth4 #cc4 ,late ,gothic plinth1 ,casa degli ,ambasciatori4 #cd4 ,late ,gothic plinth1 ,palace near the ,jesuiti4 #ce1 #cf4 ,central balcony cornice4 #cg4 ,plinth of ,st4 ,mark's balustrade4 #ch4 ,cornice of the ,frari1 in brick1 cabled4 #ci4 ,central balcony plinth4 #dj4 ,uppermost cornice1 ,ducal ,palace4 #da4 ,abacus of lily capitals1 ,st4 ,mark's4 #db4 ,abacus1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #dc4 ,abacus1 large capital of ,terraced ,house4 #dd4 ,abacus1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 #de4 ,abacus1 ,ducal ,palace1 upper arcade4 #df4 ,abacus1 ,corte del ,remer4 #dg4 ,abacus1 small pillars1 ,st4 ,mark's pulpit4 #dh4 ,abacus1 ,murano and ,torcello4 #di4 ,abacus1 ,casa ,farsetti4 #ej4 ,abacus1 ,casa ,loredan1 lower story4 #ea4 ,abacus1 capitals of ,frari4 #eb4 ,abacus1 ,casa ,cavalli 7plain74 #ec4 ,abacus1 ,casa ,priuli 7flowered74 #ed4 ,abacus1 ,casa ,foscari 7plain74 #ee4 ,abacus1 ,casa ,priuli 7flowered74 #ef4 ,abacus1 ,plate ,,ii4 fig4 #ae4 #eg4 ,abacus1 ,st4 ,john and ,paul4 #eh4 ,abacus1 ,st4 ,stefano4 ,it is only farther to be noted1 that these mouldings are used in various proportions1 for all kinds of purposes3 sometimes for true cornices2 sometimes for window-sills2 sometimes1 #c and #d 7in the ,gothic time7 especially1 for dripstones of gables3 #aa and such others form little plinths or abaci at the spring of arches1 such as those shown at a1 ,fig4 ,,xxiii4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,finally1 a large number of superb ,byzantine cornices occur1 of the form shown at the top of the arch in ,plate ,v4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 having a profile like #af or #ai here2 with nodding leaves of acanthus thrown out from it1 being1 in fact1 merely one range of the leaves of a ,byzantine capital unwrapped1 and formed into a continuous line4 ,i had prepared a large mass of materials for the illustration of these cornices1 and the ,gothic ones connected with them2 but found the subject would take up another volume1 and was forced1 for the present1 to abandon it4 ,the lower series of profiles1 #g to #ab in ,plate ,,xv4 ,vol4 ,i1 shows how the leaf-ornament is laid on the simple early cornices4 ,,vi4 ,traceries4 ,we have only one subject more to examine1 the character of the early and late ,tracery ,bars4 ,the reader may perhaps have been surprised at the small attention given to traceries in the course of the preceding volumes3 but the reason is1 that there are no complicated traceries at ,venice belonging to the good ,gothic time1 with the single exception of those of the ,casa ,cicogna2 and the magnificent arcades of the ,ducal ,palace ,gothic are so simple as to require little explanation4 ,there are1 however1 two curious circumstances in the later traceries2 the first1 that they are universally considered by the builder 7as the old ,byzantines considered sculptured surfaces of stone7 as material out of which a certain portion is to be cut1 to fill his window4 ,a fine ,northern ,gothic tracery is a complete and systematic arrangement of arches and foliation1 adjusted to the form of the window2 but a ,venetian tracery is a piece of a larger composition1 cut to the shape of the window4 ,in the ,porta della ,carta1 in the ,church of the ,madonna dell',orto1 in the ,casa ,bernardo on the ,grand ,canal1 in the old ,church of the ,misericordia1 and wherever else there are rich traceries in ,venice1 it will always be found that a certain arrangement of quatrefoils and other figures has been planned as if it were to extend indefinitely into miles of arcade2 and out of this colossal piece of marble lace1 a piece in the shape of a window is cut1 mercilessly and fearlessly3 whatever fragments and odd shapes of interstice1 remnants of this or that figure of the divided foliation1 may occur at the edge of the window1 it matters not2 all are cut across1 and shut in by the great outer archivolt4 ,it is very curious to find the ,venetians treating what in other countries became of so great individual importance1 merely as a kind of diaper ground1 like that of their chequered colors on the walls4 ,there is great grandeur in the idea1 though the system of their traceries was spoilt by it3 but they always treated their buildings as masses of color rather than of line2 and the great traceries of the ,ducal ,palace itself are not spared any more than those of the minor palaces4 ,they are cut off at the flanks in the middle of the quatrefoils1 and the terminal mouldings take up part of the breadth of the poor half of a quatrefoil at the extremity4 ,one other circumstance is notable also4 ,in good ,northern ,gothic the tracery bars are of a constant profile1 the same on both sides2 and if the plan of the tracery leaves any interstices so small that there is not room for the full profile of the tracery bar all round them1 those interstices are entirely closed1 the tracery bars being supposed to have met each other4 ,but in ,venice1 if an interstice becomes anywhere inconveniently small1 the tracery bar is sacrificed2 cut away1 or in some way altered in profile1 in order to afford more room for the light1 especially in the early traceries1 so that one side of a tracery bar is often quite different from the other4 ,for instance1 in the bars #a and #b1 ,plate ,,xi41 from the ,frari and ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 the uppermost side is towards a great opening1 and there was room for the bevel or slope to the cusp2 but in the other side the opening was too small1 and the bar falls vertically to the cusp4 ,in #e the uppermost side is to the narrow aperture1 and the lower to the small one2 and in fig4 #i1 from the ,casa ,cicogna1 the uppermost side is to the apertures of the tracery1 the lowermost to the arches beneath1 the great roll following the design of the tracery2 while #ac and #ad are left without the roll at the base of their cavettos on the uppermost sides1 which are turned to narrow apertures4 ,the earliness of the ,casa ,cicogna tracery is seen in a moment by its being moulded on the face only4 ,it is in fact nothing more than a series of quatrefoiled apertures in the solid wall of the house1 with mouldings on their faces1 and magnificent arches of pure pointed fifth order sustaining them below4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xi4 ,,tracery ,,bars4 ,the following are the references to the figures in the plate3 #a4 ,frari4 #b4 ,apse1 ,st4 ,john and ,paul4 #c4 ,frari4 #d4 ,ducal ,palace1 inner court1 upper window4 #e4 ,madonna dell',orto4 #f4 ,st4 ,john and ,paul4 #g4 ,casa ,bernardo4 #h4 ,casa ,contarini ,fasan4 #i4 ,casa ,cicogna4 #aj4 #aa4 ,frari4 #ab4 ,murano ,palace 7see note1 p4 #bfe74 ,,plate ,,xi4 #ac4 ,misericordia4 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #ad4 ,palace of the younger ,foscari4#gj #ae4 ,casa d',oro2 great single windows4 #af4 ,hotel ,danieli4 #ag4 ,ducal ,palace4 #ah4 ,casa ,erizzo1 on ,grand ,canal4 #ai4 ,main story1 ,casa ,cavalli4 #bj4 ,younger ,foscari4 #ba4 ,ducal ,palace1 traceried windows4 #bb4 ,porta della ,carta4 #bc4 ,casa d',oro4 #bd4 ,casa d',oro1 upper story4 #be4 ,casa ,facanon4 #bf4 ,casa ,cavalli1 near ,post-,office4 ,it will be seen at a glance that1 except in the very early fillet traceries of the ,frari and ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 ,venetian work consists of roll traceries of one general pattern4 ,it will be seen also1 that #aj and #aa from the ,frari1 furnish the first examples of the form afterwards completely developed in #ag1 the tracery bar of the ,ducal ,palace2 but that this bar differs from them in greater strength and squareness1 and in adding a recess between its smaller roll and the cusp4 ,observe1 that this is done for strength chiefly2 as1 in the contemporary tracery 7#ba7 of the upper windows1 no such additional thickness is used4 ,figure #ag is slightly inaccurate4 ,the little curved recesses behind the smaller roll are not equal on each side2 that next the cusp is smallest1 being about #e_/h of an inch1 while that next the cavetto is about #g_/h2 to such an extent of subtlety did the old builders carry their love of change4 ,the return of the cavetto in #ba1 #bc1 and #bf1 is comparatively rare1 and is generally a sign of later date4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,ii4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,iii4 ,the reader must observe that the great sturdiness of the form of the bars1 #e1 #i1 #ag1 #bd1 #be1 is a consequence of the peculiar office of ,venetian traceries in supporting the mass of the building above1 already noticed in ,vol4 ,,ii42 and indeed the forms of the ,venetian ,gothic are1 in many other ways1 influenced by the difficulty of obtaining stability on sandy foundations4 ,one thing is especially noticeable in all their arrangements of traceries2 namely1 the endeavor to obtain equal and horizontal pressure along the whole breadth of the building1 not the divided and local pressures of ,northern ,gothic4 ,this object is considerably aided by the structure of the balconies1 which are of great service in knitting the shafts together1 forming complete tie-beams of marble1 as well as a kind of rivets1 at their bases4 ,for instance1 at b1 ,fig4 ,,ii41 is represented the masonry of the base of the upper arcade of the ,ducal ,palace1 showing the root of one of its main shafts1 with the binding balconies4 ,the solid stones which form the foundation are much broader than the balcony shafts1 so that the socketed arrangement is not seen3 it is shown as it would appear in a longitudinal section4 ,the balconies are not let into the circular shafts1 but fitted to their circular curves1 so as to grasp them1 and riveted with metal2 and the bars of stone which form the tops of the balconies are of great strength and depth1 the small trefoiled arches being cut out of them as in ,fig4 ,,iii41 so as hardly to diminish their binding power4 ,in the lighter independent balconies they are often cut deeper2 but in all cases the bar of stone is nearly independent of the small shafts placed beneath it1 and would stand firm though these were removed1 as at a1 ,fig4 ,,ii41 supported either by the main shafts of the traceries1 or by its own small pilasters with semi-shafts at their sides1 of the plan d1 ,fig4 ,,ii41 in a continuous balcony1 and e at the angle of one4 ,there is one more very curious circumstance illustrative of the ,venetian desire to obtain horizontal pressure4 ,in all the ,gothic staircases with which ,i am acquainted1 out of ,venice1 in which vertical shafts are used to support an inclined line1 those shafts are connected by arches rising each above the other1 with a little bracket above the capitals1 on the side where it is necessary to raise the arch2 or else1 though less gracefully1 with a longer curve to the lowest side of the arch4 ,but the ,venetians seem to have had a morbid horror of arches which were not on a level4 ,they could not endure the appearance of the roof of one arch bearing against the side of another2 and rather than introduce the idea of obliquity into bearing curves1 they abandoned the arch principle altogether2 so that even in their richest ,gothic staircases1 where trefoiled arches1 exquisitely decorated1 are used on the landings1 they ran the shafts on the sloping stair simply into the bar of stone above them1 and used the excessively ugly and valueless arrangement of ,fig4 ,,ii41 rather than sacrifice the sacred horizontality of their arch system4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,iv4 ,it will be noted1 in ,plate ,,xi41 that the form and character of the tracery bars themselves are independent of the position or projection of the cusps on their flat sides4 ,in this respect1 also1 ,venetian traceries are peculiar1 the example #bb of the ,porta della ,carta being the only one in the plate which is subordinated according to the ,northern system4 ,in every other case the form of the aperture is determined1 either by a flat and solid cusp as in #f1 or by a pierced cusp as in #d4 ,the effect of the pierced cusp is seen in the uppermost figure1 ,plate ,,xviii4 ,vol4 ,,ii42 and its derivation from the solid cusp will be understood1 at once1 from the woodcut ,fig4 ,,iv41 which represents a series of the flanking stones of any arch of the fifth order1 such as f in ,plate ,,iii4 ,vol4 ,i4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,v4 ,the first on the left shows the condition of cusp in a perfectly simple and early ,gothic arch1 #b and #c are those of common arches of the fifth order1 #d is the condition in more studied examples of the ,gothic advanced guard1 and #e connects them all with the system of traceries4 ,introducing the common archivolt mouldings on the projecting edge of #b and #c1 we obtain the bold and deep fifth order window1 used down to the close of the fourteenth century or even later1 and always grand in its depth of cusp1 and consequently of shadow2 but the narrow cusp #d occurs also in very early work1 and is piquant when set beneath a bold flat archivolt1 as in ,fig4 ,v41 from the ,corte del ,forno at ,santa ,marina4 ,the pierced cusp gives a peculiar lightness and brilliancy to the window1 but is not so sublime4 ,in the richer buildings the surface of the flat and solid cusp is decorated with a shallow trefoil 7see ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,i471 or1 when the cusp is small1 with a triangular incision only1 as seen in figs4 #g and #h1 ,plate ,,xi4 ,the recesses on the sides of the other cusps indicate their single or double lines of foliation4 ,the cusp of the ,ducal ,palace has a fillet only round its edge1 and a ball of red marble on its truncated point1 and is perfect in its grand simplicity2 but in general the cusps of ,venice are far inferior to those of ,verona and of the other cities of ,italy1 chiefly because there was always some confusion in the mind of the designer between true cusps and the mere bending inwards of the arch of the fourth order4 ,the two series1 #d a to #d e1 and #e a to #e e1 in ,plate ,,xiv4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 are arranged so as to show this connexion1 as well as the varieties of curvature in the trefoiled arches of the fourth and fifth orders1 which1 though apparently slight on so small a scale1 are of enormous importance in distant effect2 a house in which the joints of the cusps project as much as in #e c1 being quite piquant and grotesque when compared with one in which the cusps are subdued to the form #e b4 #d d and #d e are ,veronese forms1 wonderfully effective and spirited2 the latter occurs at ,verona only1 but the former at ,venice also4 #e d occurs in ,venice1 but is very rare2 and #e e ,i found only once1 on the narrow canal close to the entrance door of the ,hotel ,danieli4 ,it was partly walled up1 but ,i obtained leave to take down the brickwork and lay open one side of the arch1 which may still be seen4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the above particulars are enough to enable the reader to judge of the distinctness of evidence which the details of ,venetian architecture bear to its dates4 ,farther explanation of the plates would be vainly tedious3 but the architect who uses these volumes in ,venice will find them of value1 in enabling him instantly to class the mouldings which may interest him2 and for this reason ,i have given a larger number of examples than would otherwise have been sufficient for my purpose4 ,,footnotes3 #eh ,olim magistri prothi palatii nostri novi4--,cadorin1 p4 #abg4 #ei ,a print1 dated #aehe1 barbarously inaccurate1 as all prints were at that time1 but still in some respects to be depended upon1 represents all the windows on the faade full of traceries2 and the circles above1 between them1 occupied by quatrefoils4 #fj ,lata tanto1 quantum est ambulum existens super columnis versus canale respicientibus4 #fa ,bettio1 p4 #bh4 #fb ,in the bombardment of ,venice in #ahdh1 hardly a single palace escaped without three or four balls through its roof3 three came into the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco1 tearing their way through the pictures of ,tintoret1 of which the ragged fragments were still hanging from the ceiling in #ahea2 and the shells had reached to within a hundred yards of ,st4 ,mark's ,church itself1 at the time of the capitulation4 #fc ,a ,mohammedan youth is punished1 ,i believe1 for such misdemeanors1 by being kept away from prayers4 #fd ,those ,venetians are fishermen4 #fe ,i am afraid that the kind friend1 ,lady ,trevelyan1 who helped me to finish this plate1 will not like to be thanked here2 but ,i cannot let her send into ,devonshire for magnolias1 and draw them for me1 without thanking her4 #ff ,that is1 the house in the parish of the ,apostoli1 on the ,grand ,canal1 noticed in ,vol4 ,,ii42 and see also the ,venetian ,index1 under head ,apostoli4 #fg ,close to the bridge over the main channel through ,murano is a massive foursquare ,gothic palace1 containing some curious traceries1 and many unique transitional forms of window1 among which these windows of the fourth order occur1 with a roll within their dentil band4 #fh ,thus1 for the sake of convenience1 we may generally call the palace with the emblems of the ,evangelists on its spandrils1 ,vol4 ,,ii4 #fi ,the house with chequers like a chess-board on its spandrils1 given in my folio work4 #gj ,the palace next the ,casa ,foscari1 on the ,grand ,canal1 sometimes said to have belonged to the son of the ,doge4 ,,indices4 ,i4 ,,personal ,,index4 ,,iii4 ,,topical ,,index4 ,,ii4 ,,local ,,index4 ,,iv4 ,,venetian ,,index4 ,the first of the following ,indices contains the names of persons2 the second those of places 7not in ,venice7 alluded to in the body of the work4 ,the third ,index consists of references to the subjects touched upon4 ,in the fourth1 called the ,venetian ,index1 ,i have named every building of importance in the city of ,venice itself1 or near it2 supplying1 for the convenience of the traveller1 short notices of those to which ,i had no occasion to allude in the text of the work2 and making the whole as complete a guide as ,i could1 with such added directions as ,i should have given to any private friend visiting the city4 ,as1 however1 in many cases1 the opinions ,i have expressed differ widely from those usually received2 and1 in other instances1 subjects which may be of much interest to the traveller have not come within the scope of my inquiry2 the reader had better take ,lazari's small ,guide in his hand also1 as he will find in it both the information ,i have been unable to furnish1 and the expression of most of the received opinions upon any subject of art4 ,various inconsistencies will be noticed in the manner of indicating the buildings1 some being named in ,italian1 some in ,english1 and some half in one1 and half in the other4 ,but these inconsistencies are permitted in order to save trouble1 and make the ,index more practically useful4 ,for instance1 ,i believe the traveller will generally look for ,mark1 rather than for ,marco1 when he wishes to find the reference to ,st4 ,mark's ,church2 but ,i think he will look for ,rocco1 rather than for ,roch1 when he is seeking for the account of the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco4 ,so also ,i have altered the character in which the titles of the plates are printed1 from the black letter in the first volume1 to the plain ,roman in the second and third2 finding experimentally that the former character was not easily legible1 and conceiving that the book would be none the worse for this practical illustration of its own principles1 in a daring sacrifice of symmetry to convenience4 ,these alphabetical ,indices will1 however1 be of little use1 unless another1 and a very different kind of ,index1 be arranged in the mind of the reader2 an ,index explanatory of the principal purposes and contents of the various parts of this essay4 ,it is difficult to analyze the nature of the reluctance with which either a writer or painter takes it upon him to explain the meaning of his own work1 even in cases where1 without such explanation1 it must in a measure remain always disputable3 but ,i am persuaded that this reluctance is1 in most instances1 carried too far2 and that1 wherever there really is a serious purpose in a book or a picture1 the author does wrong who1 either in modesty or vanity 7both feelings have their share in producing the dislike of personal interpretation71 trusts entirely to the patience and intelligence of the readers or spectators to penetrate into their significance4 ,at all events1 ,i will1 as far as possible1 spare such trouble with respect to these volumes1 by stating here1 finally and clearly1 both what they intend and what they contain2 and this the rather because ,i have lately noticed1 with some surprise1 certain reviewers announcing as a discovery1 what ,i thought had lain palpably on the surface of the book1 namely1 that if ,mr4 ,ruskin be right1 all the architects1 and all the architectural teaching of the last three hundred years1 must have been wrong4 ,that is indeed precisely the fact2 and the very thing ,i meant to say1 which indeed ,i thought ,i had said over and over again4 ,i believe the architects of the last three centuries to have been wrong2 wrong without exception2 wrong totally1 and from the foundation4 ,this is exactly the point ,i have been endeavoring to prove1 from the beginning of this work to the end of it4 ,but as it seems not yet to have been stated clearly enough1 ,i will here try to put my entire theorem into an unmistakable form4 ,the various nations who attained eminence in the arts before the time of ,christ1 each of them1 produced forms of architecture which in their various degrees of merit were almost exactly indicative of the degrees of intellectual and moral energy of the nations which originated them2 and each reached its greatest perfection at the time when the true energy and prosperity of the people who had invented it were at their culminating point4 ,many of these various styles of architecture were good1 considered in relation to the times and races which gave birth to them2 but none were absolutely good or perfect1 or fitted for the practice of all future time4 ,the advent of ,christianity for the first time rendered possible the full development of the soul of man1 and therefore the full development of the arts of man4 ,christianity gave birth to a new architecture1 not only immeasurably superior to all that had preceded it1 but demonstrably the best architecture that can exist2 perfect in construction and decoration1 and fit for the practice of all time4 ,this architecture1 commonly called ,gothic1 though in conception perfect1 like the theory of a ,christian character1 never reached an actual perfection1 having been retarded and corrupted by various adverse influences2 but it reached its highest perfection1 hitherto manifested1 about the close of the thirteenth century1 being then indicative of a peculiar energy in the ,christian mind of ,europe4 ,in the course of the fifteenth century1 owing to various causes which ,i have endeavored to trace in the preceding pages1 the ,christianity of ,europe was undermined2 and a ,pagan architecture was introduced1 in imitation of that of the ,greeks and ,romans4 ,the architecture of the ,greeks and ,romans themselves was not good1 but it was natural2 and1 as ,i said before1 good in some respects1 and for a particular time4 ,but the imitative architecture introduced first in the fifteenth century1 and practised ever since1 was neither good nor natural4 ,it was good in no respect1 and for no time4 ,all the architects who have built in that style have built what was worthless2 and therefore the greater part of the architecture which has been built for the last three hundred years1 and which we are now building1 is worthless4 ,we must give up this style totally1 despise it and forget it1 and build henceforward only in that perfect and ,christian style hitherto called ,gothic1 which is everlastingly the best4 ,this is the theorem of these volumes4 ,in support of this theorem1 the first volume contains1 in its first chapter1 a sketch of the actual history of ,christian architecture1 up to the period of the ,reformation2 and1 in the subsequent chapters1 an analysis of the entire system of the laws of architectural construction and decoration1 deducing from those laws positive conclusions as to the best forms and manners of building for all time4 ,the second volume contains1 in its first five chapters1 an account of one of the most important and least known forms of ,christian architecture1 as exhibited in ,venice1 together with an analysis of its nature in the fourth chapter2 and1 which is a peculiarly important part of this section1 an account of the power of color over the human mind4 ,the sixth chapter of the second volume contains an analysis of the nature of ,gothic architecture1 properly so called1 and shows that in its external form it complies precisely with the abstract laws of structure and beauty1 investigated in the first volume4 ,the seventh and eighth chapters of the second volume illustrate the nature of ,gothic architecture by various ,venetian examples4 ,the third volume investigates1 in its first chapter1 the causes and manner of the corruption of ,gothic architecture2 in its second chapter1 defines the nature of the ,pagan architecture which superseded it2 in the third chapter1 shows the connexion of that ,pagan architecture with the various characters of mind which brought about the destruction of the ,venetian nation2 and1 in the fourth chapter1 points out the dangerous tendencies in the modern mind which the practice of such an architecture indicates4 ,such is the intention of the preceding pages1 which ,i hope will no more be doubted or mistaken4 ,as far as regards the manner of its fulfilment1 though ,i hope1 in the course of other inquiries1 to add much to the elucidation of the points in dispute1 ,i cannot feel it necessary to apologize for the imperfect handling of a subject which the labor of a long life1 had ,i been able to bestow it1 must still have left imperfectly treated4 ,i4 ,,personal ,,index4 ,a ,alberti1 ,duccio degli1 his tomb1 iii4 #gd1 #hj4 ,alexander ,,iii41 his defence by ,venetians1 i4 #g4 ,ambrose1 ,st41 his verbal subtleties1 ii4 #cbj4 ,angelico1 ,fr1 artistical power of1 i4 #djj2 his influence on ,protestants1 ii4 #aje2 his coloring1 ii4 #ade4 ,aristotle1 his evil influence on the modern mind1 ii4 #cai4 ,averulinus1 his book on architecture1 iii4 #fc4 ,b ,barbaro1 monuments of the family1 iii4 #abe4 ,barbarossa1 ,emperor1 i4 #g1 #i4 ,baseggio1 ,pietro1 iii4 #aii4 ,bellini1 ,john1 i4 #aa2 his kindness to ,albert ,durer1 i4 #chc2 general power of1 see ,venetian ,index1 under head ,giovanni ,grisostomo2 ,gentile1 his brother1 iii4 #ba4 ,berti1 ,bellincion1 ii4 #bfc4 ,browning1 ,elizabeth ,b41 her poetry1 ii4 #bjf4 ,bunsen1 ,chevalier1 his work on ,romanesque ,churches1 ii4 #cha4 ,bunyan1 ,john1 his portraiture of constancy1 ii4 #ccc2 of patience1 ii4 #ccd2 of vanity1 ii4 #cdf2 of sin1 iii4 #adg4 ,c ,calendario1 ,filippo1 iii4 #aii4 ,canaletto1 i4 #bd2 and see ,venetian ,index under head ,carit4 ,canova1 i4 #bag2 and see ,venetian ,index under head ,frari4 ,cappello1 ,vincenzo1 his tomb1 iii4 #abb4 ,caracci1 school of the1 i4 #bd4 ,cary1 his translation of ,dante1 ii4 #bfd4 ,cavalli1 ,jacopo1 his tomb1 iii4 #hb4 ,cicero1 influence of his philosophy1 ii4 #cag1 #cah4 ,claude ,lorraine1 i4 #bd4 ,comnenus1 ,manuel1 ii4 #bfc4 ,cornaro1 ,marco1 his tomb1 iii4 #gi4 ,correggio1 ii4 #aib4 ,crabbe1 naturalism in his poetry1 ii4 #aie4 ,d ,dandolo1 ,andrea1 tomb of1 ii4 #gj2 ,francesco1 tomb of1 iii4 #gd2 character of1 iii4 #gf2 ,simon1 tomb of1 iii4 #gi4 ,dante1 his central position1 ii4 #cdj1 iii4 #aeh2 his system of virtue1 ii4 #cbc2 his portraiture of sin1 iii4 #adg4 ,daru1 his character as a historian1 iii4 #bac4 ,dolci1 ,carlo1 ii4 #aje4 ,dolfino1 ,giovanni1 tomb of1 iii4 #gh4 ,durer1 ,albert1 his rank as a landscape painter1 i4 #chc2 his power in grotesque1 iii4 #ade4 ,e ,edwin1 ,king1 his conversion1 iii4 #fb4 ,f ,faliero1 ,bertuccio1 his tomb1 iii4 #id2 ,marino1 his house1 ii4 #bed2 ,vitale1 miracle in his time1 ii4 #fa4 ,fergusson1 ,james1 his system of beauty1 i4 #chh4 ,foscari1 ,francesco1 his reign1 i4 #d1 iii4 #afe2 his tomb1 iii4 #hd2 his countenance1 iii4 #hf4 ,g ,garbett1 answer to ,mr41 i4 #djc4 ,ghiberti1 his sculpture1 i4 #bag4 ,giotto1 his system of the virtues1 ii4 #cbc1 #cbi1 #cda2 his rank as a painter1 ii4 #ahh1 iii4 #agb4 ,giulio ,romano1 i4 #bc4 ,giustiniani1 ,marco1 his tomb1 i4 #cae2 ,sebastian1 ambassador to ,england1 iii4 #bbd4 ,godfrey of ,bouillon1 his piety1 iii4 #fb4 ,gozzoli1 ,benozzo1 ii4 #aie4 ,gradenigo1 ,pietro1 ii4 #bij4 ,grande1 ,can1 della ,scala1 his tomb1 i4 #bfh 7the cornice g in ,plate ,,xvi4 is taken from it71 iii4 #ga4 ,guariento1 his ,paradise1 ii4 #bif4 ,guercino1 ii4 #aje4 ,h ,hamilton1 ,colonel1 his paper on the ,serapeum1 ii4 #bbj4 ,hobbima1 iii4 #ahd4 ,hunt1 ,william1 his painting of peasant boys1 ii4 #aib2 of still life1 ii4 #cid4 ,hunt1 ,william ,holman1 relation of his works to modern and ancient art1 iii4 #ahe4 ,k ,knight1 ,gally1 his work on ,architecture1 i4 #cgh4 ,l ,leonardo da ,vinci1 ii4 #aga4 ,louis ,,xi41 iii4 #aid4 ,m ,martin1 ,john1 ii4 #ajd4 ,mastino1 ,can1 della ,scala1 his tomb1 ii4 #bbd1 iii4 #gb4 ,maynard1 ,miss1 her poems1 ii4 #cig4 ,michael ,angelo1 ii4 #acd1 #ahh1 iii4 #ef1 #ij1 #ii1 #aeh4 ,millais1 ,john ,e41 relation of his works to older art1 iii4 #ahe2 aerial perspective in his ,huguenot1 iii4 #dg4 ,milton1 how inferior to ,dante1 iii4 #adg4 ,mocenigo1 ,tomaso1 his character1 i4 #d2 his speech on rebuilding the ,ducal ,palace1 ii4 #bii2 his tomb1 i4 #bf1 iii4 #hd4 ,morosini1 ,carlo1 ,count1 note on ,daru's ,history by1 iii4 #bac4 ,morosini1 ,marino1 his tomb1 iii4 #ic4 ,morosini1 ,michael1 his character1 iii4 #bac2 his tomb1 iii4 #hj4 ,murillo1 his sensualism1 ii4 #aib4 ,n ,napoleon1 his genius in civil administration1 i4 #cii4 ,niccolo ,pisano1 i4 #bae4 ,o ,orcagna1 his system of the virtues1 ii4 #cbi4 ,orseolo1 ,pietro 7,doge71 iii4 #abj4 ,otho the ,great1 his vow at ,murano1 ii4 #cb4 ,p ,palladio1 i4 #bd1 #adf2 and see ,venetian ,index1 under head ,giorgio ,maggiore4 ,participazio1 ,angelo1 founds the ,ducal ,palace1 ii4 #bhg4 ,pesaro1 ,giovanni1 tomb of1 iii4 #ib2 ,jacopo1 tomb of1 iii4 #ia4 ,philippe de ,commynes1 i4 #ab4 ,plato1 influence of his philosophy1 ii4 #cag1 #cch2 his playfulness1 iii4 #abg4 ,poussin1 ,nicolo and ,gaspar1 i4 #bc4 ,procaccini1 ,camillo1 ii4 #ahh4 ,prout1 ,samuel1 his style1 i4 #bej1 iii4 #ai1 #acd4 ,pugin1 ,welby1 his rank as an architect1 i4 #che4 ,q ,querini1 ,marco1 his palace1 ii4 #bee4 ,r ,raffaelle1 ii4 #ahh1 iii4 #ef1 #ajh1 #acf4 ,reynolds1 ,sir ,j41 his painting at ,new ,college1 ii4 #cbc2 his general manner1 iii4 #ahd4 ,rogers1 ,samuel1 his works1 ii4 #aie1 iii4 #aac4 ,rubens1 intellectual rank of1 i4 #djj2 coarseness of1 ii4 #ade4 ,s ,salvator ,rosa1 i4 #bd1 ii4 #aje1 #ade1 #ahh4 ,scaligeri1 tombs of1 at ,verona2 see ,grande1 ,mastino1 ,signorio2 palace of1 ii4 #beg4 ,scott1 ,sir ,w41 his feelings of romance1 iii4 #aia4 ,shakspeare1 his ,seven ,ages1 whence derived1 ii4 #cfa4 ,sharpe1 ,edmund1 his works1 i4 #cdb1 #djh4 ,signorio1 ,can1 della ,scala1 his tomb1 character1 i4 #bfh1 iii4 #gc4 ,simplicius1 ,st41 ii4 #cef4 ,spenser1 value of his philosophy1 ii4 #cbg1 #cda2 his personifications of the months1 ii4 #bgb2 his system of the virtues1 ii4 #cbf2 scheme of the first book of the ,farie ,queen1 iii4 #bje4 ,steno1 ,michael1 ii4 #cjf2 his tomb1 ii4 #bif4 ,stothard 7the painter71 his works1 ii4 #ahg1 #aie4 ,symmachus1 ,st41 ii4 #ceg4 ,t ,teniers1 ,david1 ii4 #ahh4 ,tiepolo1 ,jacopo and ,lorenzo1 their tombs1 iii4 #fi2 ,bajamonte1 ii4 #bee4 ,tintoret1 i4 #ab2 his genius and function1 ii4 #adi2 his ,paradise1 ii4 #cjd1 #cgb2 his rank among the men of ,italy1 iii4 #aeh4 ,titian1 i4 #ab2 his function and fall1 ii4 #adi1 #ahg4 ,turner1 his rank as a landscape painter1 i4 #chb1 ii4 #ahg4 ,u ,uguccione1 ,benedetto1 destroys ,giotto's faade at ,florence1 i4 #aig4 ,v ,vendramin1 ,andrea 7,doge71 his tomb1 i4 #bg1 iii4 #hh4 ,verocchio1 ,andrea1 iii4 #aa1 #ac4 ,veronese1 ,paul1 artistical rank of1 i4 #djj2 his designs of balustrades1 ii4 #bdg2 and see in ,venetian ,index1 ,ducal ,palace1 ,pisani1 ,sebastian1 ,redentore1 ,accademia4 ,w ,west1 ,benjamin1 ii4 #ajd4 ,wordsworth1 his observation of nature1 i4 #bdg 7note74 ,z ,zeno1 ,carlo1 i4 #d1 iii4 #hj4 ,ziani1 ,sebastian 7,doge71 builds ,ducal ,palace1 ii4 #bhi4 ,,ii4 ,,local ,,index4 ,a ,abbeville1 door of church at1 ii4 #bbe2 parapet at1 ii4 #bde4 ,alexandria1 ,church at1 i4 #cha4 ,alhambra1 ornamentation of1 i4 #dbi4 ,alps1 how formed for distant effect1 i4 #bdg2 how seen from ,venice1 ii4 #b1 #bh4 ,amiens1 pillars of ,cathedral at1 i4 #ajb4 ,arqua1 hills of1 how seen from ,venice1 ii4 #b4 ,assisi1 ,giotto's paintings at1 ii4 #cbc4 ,b ,beauvais1 piers of ,cathedral at1 i4 #ic2 grandeur of its buttress structure1 i4 #agj4 ,bergamo1 ,duomo at1 i4 #bge4 ,bologna1 ,palazzo ,pepoli at1 i4 #bge4 ,bourges1 ,cathedral at1 i4 #dc1 #ajb1 #bbh1 #bga1 #bii2 ii4 #ib1 #ahf2 house of ,jacques ,coeur at1 i4 #cdf4 ,c ,chamouni1 glacier forms at1 i4 #bbb4 ,como1 ,broletto of1 i4 #ada1 #cci4 ,d ,dijon1 pillars in ,church of ,notre ,dame at1 i4 #ajb2 tombs of ,dukes of ,burgundy1 iii4 #fh4 ,e ,edinburgh1 college at1 i4 #bjg4 ,f ,falaise 7,st4 ,gervaise at71 piers of1 i4 #ajc4 ,florence1 ,cathedral of1 i4 #aig1 iii4 #ac4 ,g ,gloucester1 ,cathedral of1 i4 #aib4 ,l ,lombardy1 geology of1 ii4 #e4 ,london1 ,church in ,margaret ,street1 ,portland ,place1 iii4 #aif2 ,temple ,church1 i4 #dab2 capitals in ,belgrave and ,grosvenor ,squares1 i4 #ccj2 ,bank of ,england1 base of1 i4 #bhc2 wall of1 typical of accounts1 i4 #bie2 statue in ,king ,william ,street1 i4 #baj2 shops in ,oxford ,street1 i4 #bjb2 ,arthur ,club-house1 i4 #bie2 ,athenum ,club-house1 i4 #aeg1 #bhc2 ,duke of ,york's ,pillar1 i4 #bhc2 ,treasury1 i4 #bje2 ,whitehall1 i4 #bje2 ,westminster1 fall of houses at1 ii4 #bfh2 ,monument1 i4 #hb1 #bhc2 ,nelson ,pillar1 i4 #baf2 ,wellington ,statue1 i4 #beg4 ,lucca1 ,cathedral of1 ii4 #bge2 ,san ,michele at1 i4 #cge4 ,lyons1 porch of cathedral at1 i4 #cgi4 ,m ,matterhorn 7,mont ,cervin71 structure of1 i4 #eh2 lines of1 applied to architecture1 i4 #cjh1 #caj1 #ccb4 ,mestre1 scene in street of1 i4 #cee4 ,milan1 ,st4 ,ambrogio1 piers of1 i4 #ajb2 capital of1 i4 #cbd2 ,st4 ,eustachio1 tomb of ,st4 ,peter ,martyr1 i4 #bah4 ,moulins1 brickwork at1 i4 #bif4 ,murano1 general aspect of1 ii4 #bi2 ,duomo of1 ii4 #cb2 balustrades of1 ii4 #bdg2 inscriptions at1 ii4 #chd4 ,n ,nineveh1 style of its decorations1 i4 #bcd1 #bci2 iii4 #aei4 ,o ,orange 7,south ,france71 arch at1 i4 #bej4 ,orleans1 ,cathedral of1 i4 #ie4 ,p ,padua1 ,arena chapel at1 ii4 #cbd2 ,st4 ,antonio at1 i4 #ace2 ,st4 ,sofia at1 i4 #cbg2 ,eremitani1 ,church of1 at1 i4 #ace4 ,paris1 ,hotel des ,invalides1 i4 #bad2 ,arc de l',etoile1 i4 #bia2 ,colonne ,vendome1 i4 #bab4 ,pavia1 ,st4 ,michele at1 piers of1 i4 #ajb1 #ccg2 ornaments of1 i4 #cgf4 ,pisa1 ,baptistery of1 ii4 #bge4 ,pistoja1 ,san ,pietro at1 i4 #bie4 ,r ,ravenna1 situation of1 ii4 #f4 ,rouen1 ,cathedral1 piers of1 i4 #ajc1 #aec2 pinnacles of1 ii4 #bac2 ,st4 ,maclou at1 sculptures of1 ii4 #aig4 ,s ,salisbury ,cathedral1 piers of1 i4 #ajb2 windows at1 ii4 #bbd4 ,sens1 ,cathedral of1 i4 #ace4 ,switzerland1 cottage architecture of1 i4 #aef1 #bjc1 iii4 #acc4 ,v ,verona1 ,san ,fermo at1 i4 #acf1 ii4 #bei2 ,sta4 ,anastasia at1 i4 #adb2 ,duomo of1 i4 #cgc2 ,st4 ,zeno at1 i4 #cgc2 balconies at1 ii4 #bdg2 archivolt at1 i4 #cce2 tombs at1 see in ,personal ,index1 ,grande1 ,mastino1 ,signorio4 ,vevay1 architecture of1 i4 #acf4 ,vienne 7,south ,france71 ,cathedral of1 i4 #bgd4 ,w ,warwick1 ,guy's tower at1 i4 #afh4 ,wenlock 7,shropshire71 ,abbey of1 i4 #bgj4 ,winchester1 ,cathedral of1 i4 #aib4 ,y ,york1 ,minster of1 i4 #bje1 #cac4 ,,iii4 ,,topical ,,index4 ,a ,abacus1 defined1 i4 #ajg2 law of its proportion1 i4 #aaa-aae2 its connection with cornices1 i4 #aaf2 its various profiles1 i4 #cai-cbc2 iii4 #bdc-bdh4 ,acanthus1 leaf of1 its use in architecture1 i4 #bcc2 how treated at ,torcello1 ii4 #ae4 ,alabaster1 use of1 in incrustation1 ii4 #hf4 ,anachronism1 necessity of1 in the best art1 ii4 #aih4 ,anatomy1 a disadvantageous study for artists1 iii4 #dg4 ,angels1 use of their images in ,venetian heraldry1 ii4 #bgh2 statues of1 on the ,ducal ,palace1 ii4 #caa4 ,anger1 how symbolically represented1 ii4 #cdd4 ,angles1 decoration of1 i4 #bfj2 ii4 #cje2 of ,gothic ,palaces1 ii4 #bch2 of ,ducal ,palace1 ii4 #cjg4 ,animal character in northern and southern climates1 ii4 #aef2 in grotesque art1 iii4 #adi4 ,apertures1 analysis of their structure1 i4 #ej2 general forms of1 i4 #agd4 ,apse1 forms of1 in southern and northern churches compared1 i4 #agj4 ,arabesques of ,raffaelle1 their baseness1 iii4 #acf4 ,arabian architecture1 i4 #ah1 #bcd1 #bce1 #dbi2 ii4 #ace4 ,arches1 general structure of1 i4 #abb2 moral characters of1 i4 #abf2 lancet1 round1 and depressed1 i4 #abi2 four-centred1 i4 #acj2 ogee1 i4 #aca2 non-concentric1 i4 #acc1 #cda2 masonry of1 i4 #acc1 ii4 #bah2 load of1 i4 #add2 are not derived from vegetation1 ii4 #bja4 ,architects1 modern1 their unfortunate position1 i4 #djd1 #djg4 ,architecture1 general view of its divisions1 i4 #dg-ea2 how to judge of it1 ii4 #agc2 adaptation of1 to requirements of human mind1 iii4 #aib2 richness of early domestic1 ii4 #ajj1 iii4 #b2 manner of its debasement in general1 iii4 #c4 ,archivolts1 decoration of1 i4 #ccd2 general families of1 i4 #cce2 of ,murano1 ii4 #di2 of ,st4 ,mark's1 ii4 #ie2 in ,london1 ii4 #ig2 ,byzantine1 ii4 #ach2 profiles of1 iii4 #bdd4 ,arts1 relative dignity of1 i4 #cie2 how represented in ,venetian sculpture1 ii4 #cee2 what relation exists between them and their materials1 ii4 #cid2 art divided into the art of facts1 of design1 and of both1 ii4 #ahc2 into purist1 naturalist1 and sensualist1 ii4 #ahg2 art opposed to inspiration1 iii4 #aea2 defined1 iii4 #agj2 distinguished from science1 iii4 #ce2 how to enjoy that of the ancients1 iii4 #ahh4 ,aspiration1 not the primal motive of ,gothic work1 i4 #aea4 ,astrology1 judicial1 representation of its doctrines in ,venetian sculpture1 ii4 #ceb4 ,austrian government in ,italy1 iii4 #bji4 ,avarice1 how represented figuratively1 ii4 #cdd4 ,b ,backgrounds1 diapered1 iii4 #bj4 ,balconies1 of ,venice1 ii4 #bdc2 general treatment of1 iii4 #bed2 of iron1 ii4 #bdg4 ,ballflower1 its use in ornamentation1 i4 #bgi4 ,balustrades4 ,see ,balconies4 ,bases1 general account of1 iii4 #bbe2 of walls1 i4 #ee2 of piers1 i4 #gc2 of shafts1 i4 #hd2 decoration of1 i4 #bha2 faults of ,gothic profiles of1 i4 #bhe2 spurs of1 i4 #bhf2 beauty of1 in ,st4 ,mark's1 i4 #bij2 ,lombardie1 i4 #bib2 ought not to be richly decorated1 i4 #bib2 general effect of1 ii4 #chg4 ,battlements1 i4 #afb2 abuse of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bai4 ,beauty and ornament1 relation of the terms1 i4 #djd4 ,bellstones of capitals defined1 i4 #ajh4 ,birds1 use of in ornamentation1 i4 #bcd1 ii4 #adj4 ,bishops1 their ancient authority1 ii4 #be4 ,body1 its relation to the soul1 i4 #da1 #cie4 ,brackets1 division of1 i4 #afa2 ridiculous forms of1 i4 #afa4 ,breadth in ,byzantine design1 ii4 #acc4 ,brickwork1 ornamental1 i4 #bif2 in general1 ii4 #bda1 #bfj1 #bfa4 ,brides of ,venice1 legend of the1 iii4 #aac1 #aaf4 ,buttresses1 general structure of1 i4 #aff2 flying1 i4 #aib2 supposed sanctity of1 i4 #agc4 ,bull1 symbolical use of1 in representing rivers1 i4 #dah1 #dba1 #dbd4 ,byzantine style1 analysis of1 ii4 #ge2 ecclesiastical fitness of1 ii4 #ig2 centralization in1 ii4 #bcf2 palaces built in1 ii4 #aah2 sculptures in1 ii4 #acg1 #adj4 ,c ,candlemas1 ancient symbols of1 ii4 #bgb4 ,capitals1 general structure of1 i4 #aje2 bells of1 i4 #ajg2 just proportions of1 i4 #aad2 various families of1 i4 #ac1 #fe1 #cbd1 ii4 #abi1 iii4 #bca2 are necessary to shafts in good architecture1 i4 #aai2 ,byzantine1 ii4 #aca1 iii4 #bca2 ,lily1 of ,st4 ,mark's1 ii4 #acg2 of ,solomon's temple1 ii4 #acg4 ,care1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdh4 ,see ,sorrow4 ,caryatides1 i4 #cjb4 ,castles1 ,english1 entrances of1 i4 #agg4 ,cathedrals1 ,english1 effect of1 ii4 #fc4 ,ceilings1 old ,venetian1 ii4 #bhj4 ,centralization in design1 ii4 #bcg4 ,chalet of ,switzerland1 its character1 i4 #bjc4 ,chamfer defined1 i4 #bfc2 varieties of1 i4 #bfb1 #dbi4 ,changefulness1 an element of ,gothic1 ii4 #agb4 ,charity1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cbg1 #cci4 ,chartreuse1 ,grande1 morbid life in1 iii4 #aij4 ,chastity1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cbh4 ,cheerfulness1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cbf1 #cdh2 virtue of1 ii4 #cbf4 ,cherries1 cultivation of1 at ,venice1 ii4 #cfa4 ,christianity1 how mingled with worldliness1 iii4 #aji2 how imperfectly understood1 iii4 #afh2 influence of1 in liberating workmen1 ii4 #aei1 i4 #bdc2 influence of1 on forms1 i4 #ii4 ,churches1 wooden1 of the ,north1 i4 #cha2 considered as ships1 ii4 #be2 decoration of1 how far allowable1 ii4 #ajb4 ,civilization1 progress of1 iii4 #afh2 twofold danger of1 iii4 #afi4 ,classical literature1 its effect on the modern mind1 iii4 #ab4 ,climate1 its influence on architecture1 i4 #aea1 ii4 #aee1 #bjc4 ,color1 its importance in early work1 ii4 #ch1 #dj1 #gh1 #ia2 its spirituality1 ii4 #ade1 #cif2 its relation to music1 iii4 #ahf2 quartering of1 iii4 #bj2 how excusing realization1 iii4 #ahf4 ,commerce1 how regarded by ,venetians1 i4 #f4 ,composition1 definition of the term1 ii4 #ahb4 ,constancy1 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccc4 ,construction1 architectural1 how admirable1 i4 #cf4 ,convenience1 how consulted by ,gothic architecture1 ii4 #agi4 ,cornices1 general divisions of1 i4 #fc1 iii4 #bdh2 of walls1 i4 #fj2 of roofs1 i4 #adi2 ornamentation of1 i4 #cje2 curvatures of1 i4 #caj2 military1 i4 #afj2 ,greek1 i4 #aeg4 ,courses in walls1 i4 #fj4 ,crockets1 their use in ornamentation1 i4 #cdf2 their abuse at ,venice1 iii4 #aji4 ,crosses1 ,byzantine1 ii4 #aci4 ,crusaders1 character of the1 ii4 #bfc4 ,crystals1 architectural appliance of1 i4 #bbe4 ,cupid1 representation of1 in early and later art1 ii4 #cdb4 ,curvature1 on what its beauty depends1 i4 #bbb1 iii4 #e4 ,cusps1 definition of1 i4 #ace2 groups of1 i4 #ach2 relation of1 to vegetation1 ii4 #bai2 general treatment of1 iii4 #bee2 earliest occurrence of1 ii4 #bbj4 ,d ,daguerreotype1 probable results of1 iii4 #afi4 ,darkness1 a character of early churches1 ii4 #ah2 not an abstract evil1 iii4 #bbj4 ,death1 fear of1 in ,renaissance times1 iii4 #fe1 #ij1 #ib2 how anciently regarded1 iii4 #aci1 #aef4 ,decoration1 true nature of1 i4 #dje2 how to judge of1 i4 #dd1 #de4 ,see ,ornament4 ,demons1 nature of1 how illustrated by ,milton and ,dante1 iii4 #adg4 ,dentil1 ,venetian1 defined1 i4 #bgc1 #bge4 ,design1 definition of the term1 ii4 #ahc2 its relations to naturalism1 ii4 #ahd4 ,despair1 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccd4 ,diaper patterns in brick1 i4 #bif2 in color1 iii4 #ba1 #bb4 ,discord1 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccc4 ,discs1 decoration by means of1 i4 #bdj1 #daf2 ii4 #adg1 #bfd4 ,division of labor1 evils of1 ii4 #afe4 ,doge of ,venice1 his power1 i4 #c1 #cfj4 ,dogtooth moulding defined1 i4 #bfi4 ,dolphins1 moral disposition of1 i4 #bcj2 use of1 in symbolic representation of sea1 i4 #dbb1 #dbc4 ,domestic architecture1 richness of1 in middle ages1 ii4 #ii4 ,doors1 general structure of1 i4 #agd1 #agf2 smallness of in ,english cathedrals1 i4 #agf2 ancient ,venetian1 ii4 #bgg1 iii4 #bbg4 ,doric architecture1 i4 #aeg1 #cja1 #cjg2 ,christian ,doric1 i4 #cjh1 #cae4 ,dragon1 conquered by ,st4 ,donatus1 ii4 #cc2 use of1 in ornamentation1 ii4 #bai4 ,dreams1 how resembled by the highest arts1 iii4 #aec2 prophetic1 in relation to the ,grotesque1 iii4 #aef4 ,dress1 its use in ornamentation1 i4 #bab2 early ,venetian1 ii4 #chc2 dignity of1 iii4 #aia2 changes in modern dress1 iii4 #aib4 ,duties of buildings1 i4 #dg4 ,e ,earthquake of #aeaa1 ii4 #bdb4 ,eastern races1 their power over color1 ii4 #adg4 ,eaves1 construction of1 i4 #aef4 ,ecclesiastical architecture in ,venice1 i4 #bj2 no architecture exclusively ecclesiastical1 ii4 #ii4 ,edge decoration1 i4 #bfh4 ,education1 ,university1 i4 #cia2 iii4 #aaj2 evils of1 with respect to architectural workmen1 ii4 #ajg2 how to be successfully undertaken1 ii4 #afe1 #bad2 modern education in general1 how mistaken1 iii4 #aaj1 #bcd2 system of1 in ,plato1 ii4 #cah2 of ,persian kings1 ii4 #cah2 not to be mistaken for erudition1 iii4 #bai2 ought to be universal1 iii4 #bbj4 ,egg and arrow mouldings1 i4 #cad4 ,egyptian architecture1 i4 #ii1 #bci2 ii4 #bjc4 ,elgin marbles1 ii4 #aga4 ,encrusted architecture1 i4 #bga1 #bgb2 general analysis of1 ii4 #gf4 ,energy of ,northern ,gothic1 i4 #cga2 ii4 #af1 #bjd4 ,english 7early7 capitals1 faults of1 i4 #ajj1 #daa2 ,english mind1 its mistaken demands of perfection1 ii4 #afj4 ,envy1 how set forth1 ii4 #cdf4 ,evangelists1 types of1 how explicable1 iii4 #aee4 ,f ,farie ,queen1 ,spenser's1 value of1 theologically1 ii4 #cbh4 ,faith1 influence of on art1 ii4 #ajd1 #aje2 ,titian's picture of1 i4 #aa2 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccg4 ,falsehood1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdi4 ,fatalism1 how expressed in ,eastern architecture1 ii4 #bje4 ,fear1 effect of1 on human life1 iii4 #acg2 on ,grotesque art1 iii4 #adb4 ,feudalism1 healthy effects of1 i4 #ahd4 ,fig-tree1 sculpture of1 on ,ducal ,palace1 ii4 #cjg4 ,fillet1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bfg4 ,finials1 their use in ornamentation1 i4 #cdf2 a sign of decline in ,venetian architecture1 iii4 #aji4 ,finish in workmanship1 when to be required1 ii4 #afe2 dangers of1 iii4 #agj1 ii4 #afb4 ,fir1 spruce1 influence of1 on architecture1 i4 #aeb4 ,fire1 forms of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bbh4 ,fish1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bbi4 ,flamboyant ,gothic1 i4 #bgh1 ii4 #bbe4 ,flattery1 common in ,renaissance times1 iii4 #fd4 ,flowers1 representation of1 how desirable1 i4 #cdj2 how represented in mosaic1 iii4 #agi4 ,fluting of columns1 a mistake1 i4 #cja4 ,foils1 definition of1 ii4 #bba4 ,foliage1 how carved in declining periods1 iii4 #h1 #ag4 ,see ,vegetation4 ,foliation defined1 ii4 #bai2 essential to ,gothic architecture1 ii4 #bbb4 ,folly1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cbe1 #cdh4 ,form of ,gothic1 defined1 ii4 #bji4 ,fortitude1 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccg4 ,fountains1 symbolic representations of1 i4 #dbg4 ,french architecture1 compared with ,italian1 ii4 #bbf4 ,frivolity1 how exhibited in ,grotesque art1 iii4 #adc4 ,fruit1 its use in ornamentation1 i4 #bcb4 ,g ,gable1 general structure of1 i4 #abd2 essential to ,gothic1 ii4 #baj1 #bag4 ,gardens1 ,italian1 iii4 #acf4 ,generalization1 abuses of1 iii4 #agf4 ,geology of ,lombardy1 ii4 #e4 ,glass1 its capacities in architecture1 i4 #dji2 manufacture of1 ii4 #aff2 true principles of working in1 ii4 #afh1 #cie4 ,gluttony1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdc4 ,goldsmiths' work1 a high form of art1 ii4 #aff4 ,gondola1 management of1 ii4 #cge4 ,gothic architecture1 analysis of1 ii4 #aea2 not derived from vegetable structure1 i4 #aba2 convenience of1 ii4 #agh2 divisions of1 ii4 #bae2 surface and linear1 ii4 #bbf2 ,italian and ,french1 ii4 #bbf2 flamboyant1 i4 #bgh1 ii4 #bbe2 perpendicular1 i4 #aib1 ii4 #bbc1 #bbg2 early ,english1 i4 #aji2 how to judge of it1 ii4 #bbh2 how fitted for domestic purposes1 ii4 #bfi1 iii4 #aie2 how first corrupted1 iii4 #c2 how to be at present built1 iii4 #aif2 early ,venetian1 ii4 #bdh2 ecclesiastical ,venetian1 i4 #ba2 central ,venetian1 ii4 #bca2 how adorned by color in ,venice1 iii4 #bc4 ,government of ,venice1 i4 #b1 ii4 #cff4 ,grammar1 results of too great study of it1 iii4 #ee1 #ajf4 ,greek architecture1 general character of1 i4 #bdj1 ii4 #bae1 iii4 #aei4 ,grief4 ,see ,sorrow4 ,griffins1 ,lombardic1 i4 #bib1 #chg4 ,grotesque1 analysis of1 iii4 #acb2 in changes of form1 i4 #cag2 in ,venetian painting1 iii4 #afb2 symbolical1 iii4 #aee2 its character in ,renaissance work1 iii4 #aac1 #aba1 #acf1 #adc4 ,gutters of roofs1 i4 #aea4 ,h ,heathenism1 typified in ornament1 i4 #cag4 ,see ,paganism4 ,heaven and ,hell1 proofs of their existence in natural phenomena1 iii4 #ach4 ,history1 how to be written and read1 iii4 #bbd4 ,hobbima1 iii4 #ahd4 ,honesty1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdi4 ,hope1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cda4 ,horseshoe arches1 i4 #abi1 ii4 #bdi1 #bej4 ,humanity1 spiritual nature of1 i4 #da2 divisions of1 with respect to art1 i4 #cid4 ,humility1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cci4 ,i ,idleness1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cde4 ,idolatry1 proper sense of the term1 ii4 #chh2 is no encourager of art1 ii4 #aaj4 ,see ,popery4 ,imagination1 its relation to art1 iii4 #ahb4 ,imitation of precious stones1 c41 how reprehensible1 iii4 #bf1 #cj4 ,imposts1 continuous1 i4 #abj4 ,infidelity1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cce2 an element of the ,renaissance spirit1 iii4 #ajj4 ,injustice1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdi4 ,inlaid ornamentation1 i4 #cfi2 perfection of1 in early ,renaissance1 iii4 #bf4 ,inscriptions at ,murano1 ii4 #dg1 #ed2 use of1 in early times1 ii4 #aaa4 ,insects1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bcj4 ,inspiration1 how opposed to art1 iii4 #aea1 #aga4 ,instinct1 its dignity1 iii4 #aga4 ,intellect1 how variable in dignity1 iii4 #agc4 ,involution1 delightfulness of1 in ornament1 ii4 #acf4 ,iron1 its use in architecture1 i4 #ahd1 #daj4 ,italians1 modern character of1 iii4 #bji4 ,italy1 how ravaged by recent war1 iii4 #bji4 ,j ,jambs1 ,gothic1 iii4 #acg4 ,jesting1 evils of1 iii4 #abi4 ,jesuits1 their restricted power in ,venice1 i4 #cff4 ,jewels1 their cutting1 a bad employment1 ii4 #aff4 ,judgments1 instinctive1 i4 #cii4 ,job1 book of1 its purpose1 iii4 #ec4 ,k ,keystones1 how mismanaged in ,renaissance work4 ,see ,venetian ,index1 under head ,libreria4 ,knowledge1 its evil consequences1 iii4 #dj2 how to be received1 iii4 #ej1 c4 ,see ,education4 ,l ,labor1 manual1 ornamental value of1 i4 #djg2 evils of its division1 ii4 #afe2 is not a degradation1 ii4 #afh4 ,labyrinth1 in ,venetian streets1 its clue1 ii4 #bed4 ,lagoons1 ,venetian1 nature of1 ii4 #g1 #h4 ,landscape1 lower schools of1 i4 #bd2 ,venetian1 ii4 #adi2 modern love of1 ii4 #age1 iii4 #abc4 ,laws of right in architecture1 i4 #cb2 laws in general1 how permissibly violated1 i4 #bee1 ii4 #baj2 their position with respect to art1 iii4 #if2 and to religion1 iii4 #bje4 ,leaves1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bcb 7see ,vegetation72 proportion of1 ii4 #abh4 ,liberality1 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccc4 ,life in ,byzantine architecture1 ii4 #acc4 ,lilies1 beautiful proportions of1 ii4 #abh2 used for parapet ornaments1 ii4 #bdb2 lily capitals1 ii4 #acg4 ,limitation of ornament1 i4 #bed4 ,lines1 abstract use of1 in ornament1 i4 #bba4 ,lintel1 its structure1 i4 #abd1 #abf4 ,lion1 on piazzetta shafts1 iii4 #bch4 ,load1 of arches1 i4 #acc4 ,logic1 a contemptible science1 iii4 #aje4 ,lombardic architecture1 i4 #ag4 ,lotus leaf1 its use in architecture1 i4 #bcc4 ,love1 its power over human life1 iii4 #acg4 ,lusts1 their power over human nature1 how symbolized by ,spenser1 ii4 #cbh4 ,luxury1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdb2 how traceable in ornament1 iii4 #d2 of ,renaissance schools1 iii4 #fa4 ,m ,madonna1 ,byzantine representations of1 ii4 #ec4 ,magnitude1 vulgar admiration of1 iii4 #fd4 ,malmsey1 use of1 in ,feast of the ,maries1 iii4 #aag4 ,marble1 its uses1 iii4 #bg4 ,maries1 ,feast of the1 iii4 #aag4 ,mariolatry1 ancient and modern1 ii4 #ee4 ,marriages of ,venetians1 iii4 #aaf4 ,masonry1 ,mont-,cenisian1 i4 #acb2 of walls1 i4 #fa2 of arches1 i4 #acc4 ,materials1 invention of new1 how injurious to art1 iii4 #db4 ,misery1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdg4 ,modesty1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cce4 ,monotony1 its place in art1 ii4 #agf4 ,months1 personifications of1 in ancient art1 ii4 #bgb4 ,moroseness1 its guilt1 iii4 #acj4 ,mosaics at ,torcello1 ii4 #ah1 #ai2 at ,st4 ,mark's1 ii4 #gj1 #aab2 early character of1 ii4 #aaj1 iii4 #age1 #agh4 ,music1 its relation to color1 iii4 #ahf4 ,mythology of ,venetian painters1 ii4 #aej2 ancient1 how injurious to the ,christian mind1 iii4 #ajg4 ,n ,natural history1 how necessary a study1 iii4 #ed4 ,naturalism1 general analysis of it with respect to art1 ii4 #aha1 #aij2 its advance in ,gothic art1 iii4 #f2 not to be found in the encrusted style1 ii4 #hi2 its presence in the noble ,grotesque1 iii4 #add4 ,nature 7in the sense of material universe7 not improvable by art1 i4 #cej2 its relation to architecture1 i4 #cea4 ,niches1 use of1 in ,northern ,gothic1 i4 #bgh2 in ,venetian1 ii4 #bdj2 in ,french and ,veronese1 ii4 #bbg4 ,norman hatchet-work1 i4 #big2 zigzag1 i4 #cci4 ,novelty1 its necessity to the human mind1 ii4 #agf4 ,o ,oak-tree1 how represented in symbolical art1 iii4 #ahe4 ,obedience1 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccd4 ,oligarchical government1 its effect on the ,venetians1 i4 #e4 ,olive-tree1 neglect of1 by artists1 iii4 #age2 general expression of1 iii4 #agf1 #agg2 representations of1 in mosaic1 iii4 #agh4 ,order1 uses and disadvantages of1 ii4 #agb4 ,orders1 ,doric and ,corinthian1 i4 #ac2 ridiculous divisions of1 i4 #aeg1 #cgj2 ii4 #agc1 #bdi2 iii4 #ii4 ,ornament1 material of1 i4 #baa2 the best1 expresses man's delight in ,god's work1 i4 #bbj2 not in his own1 i4 #baa2 general treatment of1 i4 #bcf2 is necessarily imperfect1 i4 #bcg1 #bdj2 divided into servile1 subordinate1 and insubordinate1 i4 #bdb1 ii4 #aeh2 distant effect of1 i4 #bdh2 arborescent1 i4 #beb2 restrained within limits1 i4 #bee2 cannot be overcharged if good1 i4 #djf4 ,oxford1 system of education at1 i4 #cia4 ,p ,paganism1 revival of its power in modern times1 iii4 #aje1 #ajg1 #abb4 ,painters1 their power of perception1 iii4 #cg2 influence of society on1 iii4 #da2 what they should know1 iii4 #da2 what is their business1 iii4 #ahg4 ,palace1 the ,crystal1 merits of1 i4 #dji4 ,palaces1 ,byzantine1 ii4 #aah1 #cia2 ,gothic1 ii4 #bca4 ,papacy4 ,see ,popery4 ,parapets1 i4 #afb1 ii4 #bdj4 ,parthenon1 curves of1 ii4 #abg4 ,patience1 how symbolized1 ii4 #ccd4 ,pavements1 ii4 #eb4 ,peacocks1 sculpture of1 i4 #bdj4 ,pedestals of shafts1 i4 #hb2 and see ,venetian ,index under head ,giorgio ,maggiore4 ,perception opposed to knowledge1 iii4 #cg4 ,perfection1 inordinate desire of1 destructive of art1 i4 #bcg2 ii4 #acc1 #aeh1 #afi4 ,perpendicular style1 i4 #aij1 #bec2 ii4 #bbc1 #bbg4 ,personification1 evils of1 ii4 #cbb4 ,perspective1 aerial1 ridiculous exaggerations of1 iii4 #de2 ancient pride in1 iii4 #eg2 absence of1 in many great works1 see in ,venetian ,index the notice of ,tintoret's picture of the ,pool of ,bethesda1 under head ,rocco4 ,phariseeism and ,liberalism1 how opposed1 iii4 #ig4 ,philology1 a base science1 iii4 #ed4 ,piazzetta at ,venice1 plan of1 ii4 #bhc2 shafts of1 ii4 #bcc4 ,pictures1 judgment of1 how formed1 ii4 #cga2 neglect of1 in ,venice1 ii4 #cgb2 how far an aid to religion1 ii4 #ajd1 #aaj4 ,picturesque1 definition of term1 iii4 #acd4 ,piers1 general structure of1 i4 #ga1 #ih1 #aah4 ,pilgrim's ,progress4 ,see ,bunyan4 ,pine of ,italy1 its effect on architecture1 i4 #aeb2 of ,alps1 effect in distance1 i4 #bde4 ,see ,fir4 ,pinnacles are of little practical service1 i4 #agj2 their effect on common roofs1 i4 #cdg4 ,play1 its relation to ,grotesque art1 iii4 #abf4 ,pleasure1 its kinds and true uses1 iii4 #ahi4 ,popery1 how degraded in contest with ,protestantism1 i4 #cd1 iii4 #ajc2 its influence on art1 i4 #bc1 #cd1 #ce1 #chd1 #dcb1 ii4 #ea2 typified in ornament1 i4 #caf2 power of ,pope in ,venice1 i4 #cfb2 arts used in support of ,popery1 ii4 #gd4 ,porches1 i4 #aie4 ,portraiture1 power of1 in ,venice1 iii4 #afd4 ,posture-making in ,renaissance art1 iii4 #ij4 ,prayers1 ancient and modern1 difference between1 ii4 #cae1 #cij4 ,pre-,raphaelitism1 iii4 #ij2 present position of1 iii4 #afh1 #agd1 #ahh4 ,pride1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdc1 iii4 #bjg2 of knowledge1 iii4 #ce2 of state1 iii4 #ei2 of system1 iii4 #ie4 ,priests1 restricted power of1 in ,venice1 i4 #cff4 ,proportions1 subtlety of1 in early work1 ii4 #ch1 #aba1 #abg4 ,protestantism1 its influence on art1 i4 #bc2 typified in ornament1 i4 #caf2 influence of1 on prosperity of nations1 i4 #cfh2 expenditure in favor of1 i4 #dcd2 is incapable of judging of art1 ii4 #aje2 how expressed in art1 ii4 #bje2 its errors in opposing ,romanism1 iii1 #ajb1 #ajc1 #ajd2 its shame of religious confession1 ii4 #bgh4 ,prudence1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdj4 ,pulpits1 proper structure of1 ii4 #bb1 #chj4 ,purism in art1 its nature and definition1 ii4 #ahi4 ,purity1 how symbolized1 iii4 #bj4 ,q ,quadrupeds1 use of in ornamentation1 i4 #bcd4 ,quantity of ornament1 its regulation1 i4 #bc4 ,r ,rationalism1 its influence on art1 i4 #bc4 ,realization1 how far allowable in noble art1 iii4 #ahb1 #ahf4 ,recesses1 decoration of1 i4 #bgh4 ,recumbent statues1 iii4 #gb4 ,redundance1 an element of ,gothic1 ii4 #bjf4 ,religion1 its influence on ,venetian policy1 i4 #f2 how far aided by pictorial art1 ii4 #ajd1 #aji2 contempt of1 in ,renaissance times1 iii4 #abb4 ,renaissance architecture1 nature of1 iii4 #cc2 early1 iii4 #a2 ,byzantine1 iii4 #ae2 ,roman1 iii4 #cb2 ,grotesque1 iii4 #aab2 inconsistencies of1 iii4 #db1 etc4 ,reptiles1 how used in ornamentation1 i4 #bcj4 ,resistance1 line of1 in arches1 i4 #abf4 ,restraint1 ornamental1 value of1 i4 #bee4 ,reverence1 how ennobling to humanity1 ii4 #afc4 ,rhetoric1 a base study1 iii4 #ajf4 ,rigidity1 an element of ,gothic1 ii4 #bjc4 ,rivers1 symbolical representation of1 i4 #dai1 #dbj4 ,rocks1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bbd2 organization of1 i4 #bdf2 curvatures of1 i4 #eh1 #bbd4 ,roll-mouldings1 decoration of1 i4 #bgf4 ,romance1 modern errors of1 ii4 #d2 how connected with dress1 iii4 #aib4 ,romanesque style1 i4 #ae1 #ai1 #ade2 ii4 #bae4 ,see ,byzantine1 and ,renaissance4 ,romanism4 ,see ,popery4 ,roofs1 analysis of1 i4 #df1 #adh2 ii4 #bab1 #baf2 domed1 i4 #adi2 ,swiss1 i4 #adi1 #cde2 steepness of1 conducive to ,gothic character1 i4 #aea1 ii4 #bji2 decoration of1 i4 #cdc4 ,rustication1 is ugly and foolish1 i4 #fe2 natural objects of which it produces a resemblance1 i4 #bif4 ,s ,salvia1 its leaf applied to architecture1 i4 #bhg1 #cjf4 ,sarcophagi1 ,renaissance treatment of1 iii4 #ij2 ancient1 iii4 #fi1 #ic4 ,satellitic shafts1 i4 #ie4 ,satire in ,grotesque art1 iii4 #abf1 #ade4 ,savageness1 the first element of ,gothic1 ii4 #aee2 in ,grotesque art1 iii4 #aei4 ,science opposed to art1 iii4 #cf4 ,sculpture1 proper treatment of1 i4 #baf1 c4 ,sea1 symbolical representations of1 i4 #ceb1 #dba2 natural waves of1 i4 #cea4 ,sensualism in art1 its nature and definition1 ii4 #ahi2 how redeemed by color1 ii4 #ade4 ,serapeum at ,memphis1 cusps of1 ii4 #bbj4 ,sermons1 proper manner of regarding them1 ii4 #bb2 mode of their delivery in ,scotch church1 ii4 #cha4 ,serrar del ,consiglio1 ii4 #bia4 ,shafts1 analysis of1 i4 #hd2 vaulting shafts1 i4 #ade2 ornamentation of1 i4 #cjj2 twisted1 by what laws regulated1 i4 #cjc2 strength of1 i4 #djb2 laws by which they are regulated in encrusted style1 ii4 #hb4 ,shields1 use of1 on tombs1 ii4 #bbd1 iii4 #hg4 ,shipping1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bae4 ,shops in ,venice1 ii4 #fe4 ,sight1 how opposed to thought1 iii4 #ci4 ,simplicity of life in thirteenth century1 ii4 #bfc4 ,sin1 how symbolized in ,grotesque art1 iii4 #ada4 ,slavery of ,greeks and ,egyptians1 ii4 #aeh2 of ,english workmen1 ii4 #afb1 #afc4 ,society1 unhealthy state of1 in modern times1 ii4 #afc4 ,sorrow1 how sinful1 ii4 #cbe2 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdg4 ,soul1 its development in art1 iii4 #agc1 #ahh2 its connection with the body1 i4 #da1 #cie4 ,spandrils1 structure of1 i4 #adf2 decoration of1 i4 #big4 ,spirals1 architectural value of1 i4 #bbb1 ii4 #af4 ,spurs of bases1 i4 #gi4 ,staircases1 i4 #bjh2 of ,gothic palaces1 ii4 #bhj4 ,stucco1 when admissible1 iii4 #ba4 ,subordination of ornament1 i4 #bdj4 ,superimposition of buildings1 i4 #bjj2 ii4 #chf4 ,surface-,gothic1 explanation of term1 ii4 #bbe1 #bbg4 ,symbolism1 i4 #dag2 how opposed to personification1 ii4 #cbb4 ,system1 pride of1 how hurtful1 iii4 #ie1 #ii4 ,t ,temperance1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cch2 temperance in color and curvature1 iii4 #dbj4 ,theology1 opposed to religion1 iii4 #baf2 of ,spencer1 iii4 #bje4 ,thirteenth century1 its high position with respect to art1 ii4 #bfc4 ,thought1 opposed to sight1 iii4 #ci4 ,tombs at ,verona1 i4 #adb1 #dab2 at ,venice1 ii4 #fi2 early ,christian1 iii4 #fg2 ,gothic1 iii4 #ga2 ,renaissance treatment of1 iii4 #hd4 ,towers1 proper character of1 i4 #bjd2 of ,st4 ,mark's1 i #bjg4 ,traceries1 structure of1 i4 #ahd1 #ahe2 flamboyant1 i4 #ahi2 stump1 i4 #ahi2 ,english perpendicular1 i #aij1 ii4 #bbb2 general character of1 ii4 #bbj2 strength of1 in ,venetian ,gothic1 ii4 #bcd1 iii4 #bec2 general forms of tracery bars1 iii4 #bej4 ,treason1 how detested by ,dante1 ii4 #cbg4 ,trees1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bca4 ,trefoil1 use of1 in ornamentation1 ii4 #db4 ,triangles1 used for ornaments at ,murano1 ii4 #dc4 ,tribune at ,torcello1 ii4 #bd4 ,triglyphs1 ugliness of1 i1 #dc4 ,trunkmakers1 their share in recovery of ,brides of ,venice1 iii4 #aag1 #aah4 ,truth1 relation of1 to religion1 in ,spenser's ,farie ,queen1 iii1 #bje2 typified by stones1 iii4 #ca4 ,tympanum1 decoration of1 i4 #bii4 ,u ,unity of ,venetian nobility1 i4 #aj4 ,v ,vain glory1 speedy punishment of1 iii4 #abb4 ,vanity1 how symbolized1 ii4 #cdf4 ,variety in ornamental design1 importance of1 ii4 #dc1 #acc1 #adb1 #agb4 ,vegetation1 use of1 in ornamentation1 i4 #bcb2 peculiar meaning of1 in ,gothic1 ii4 #aii2 how connected with cusps1 ii4 #bai4 ,veil 7wall veil71 construction of1 i4 #eh2 decoration of1 i4 #bid4 ,vine1 ,lombardic sculpture of1 i4 #cge2 at ,torcello1 ii4 #ae2 use of1 in ornamentation1 ii4 #ada2 in symbolism1 ii4 #adc2 sculpture of1 on ,ducal ,palace1 ii4 #cjh4 ,virtues1 how symbolized in sepulchral monuments1 iii4 #hb1 #hf2 systems of1 in ,pagan and ,christian philosophy1 ii4 #cab2 cardinal1 ii4 #cag1 #cah1 #cbj2 of architecture1 i4 #cf1 #dd4 ,voussoirs defined1 i4 #abe2 contest between them and architraves1 i4 #ccf4 ,w ,walls1 general analysis of their structure1 i4 #dh2 bases of1 i4 #eb1 #ec2 cornices of1 i4 #fc2 rustication of1 i4 #fa1 #cch2 decoration of1 i4 #bid2 courses in1 i4 #fa1 #bie4 ,water1 its use in ornamentation1 i4 #bbf2 ancient representations of1 i4 #dag4 ,weaving1 importance of associations connected with1 ii4 #acf4 ,wells1 old ,venetian1 ii4 #bgi4 ,windows1 general forms of1 i4 #agi2 ,arabian1 i4 #ahj1 ii4 #ace2 square-headed1 ii4 #baa1 #bfi2 development of1 in ,venice1 ii4 #bce2 orders of1 in ,venice1 ii4 #bdh2 advisable form of1 in modern buildings1 ii4 #bfi4 ,winds1 how symbolized at ,venice1 ii4 #cfg4 ,wooden architecture1 i4 #cha4 ,womanhood1 virtues of1 as given by ,spenser1 ii4 #cbf4 ,z ,zigzag1 ,norman1 i4 #cci4 ,,iv4 ,,venetian ,,index4 ,i have endeavored to make the following index as useful as possible to the traveller1 by indicating only the objects which are really worth his study4 ,a traveller's interest1 stimulated as it is into strange vigor by the freshness of every impression1 and deepened by the sacredness of the charm of association which long familiarity with any scene too fatally wears away1#ga is too precious a thing to be heedlessly wasted2 and as it is physically impossible to see and to understand more than a certain quantity of art in a given time1 the attention bestowed on second-rate works1 in such a city as ,venice1 is not merely lost1 but actually harmful1--deadening the interest and confusing the memory with respect to those which it is a duty to enjoy1 and a disgrace to forget4 ,the reader need not fear being misled by any omissions2 for ,i have conscientiously pointed out every characteristic example1 even of the styles which ,i dislike1 and have referred to ,lazari in all instances in which my own information failed3 but if he is in any wise willing to trust me1 ,i should recommend him to devote his principal attention1 if he is fond of paintings1 to the works of ,tintoret1 ,paul ,veronese1 and ,john ,bellini2 not of course neglecting ,titian1 yet remembering that ,titian can be well and thoroughly studied in almost any great ,european gallery1 while ,tintoret and ,bellini can be judged of only in ,venice1 and ,paul ,veronese1 though gloriously represented by the two great pictures in the ,louvre1 and many others throughout ,europe1 is yet not to be fully estimated until he is seen at play among the fantastic chequers of the ,venetian ceilings4 ,i have supplied somewhat copious notices of the pictures of ,tintoret1 because they are much injured1 difficult to read1 and entirely neglected by other writers on art4 ,i cannot express the astonishment and indignation ,i felt on finding1 in ,kugler's handbook1 a paltry cenacolo1 painted probably in a couple of hours for a couple of zecchins1 for the monks of ,st4 ,trovaso1 quoted as characteristic of this master2 just as foolish readers quote separate stanzas of ,peter ,bell or the ,idiot ,boy1 as characteristic of ,wordsworth4 ,finally1 the reader is requested to observe1 that the dates assigned to the various buildings named in the following index1 are almost without exception conjectural2 that is to say1 founded exclusively on the internal evidence of which a portion has been given in the ,final ,appendix4 ,it is likely1 therefore1 that here and there1 in particular instances1 further inquiry may prove me to have been deceived2 but such occasional errors are not of the smallest importance with respect to the general conclusions of the preceding pages1 which will be found to rest on too broad a basis to be disturbed4 ,a ,,accademia ,,delle ,,belle ,,arti4 ,notice above the door the two bas-reliefs of ,st4 ,leonard and ,st4 ,christopher1 chiefly remarkable for their rude cutting at so late a date as #acgg2 but the niches under which they stand are unusual in their bent gables1 and in little crosses within circles which fill their cusps4 ,the traveller is generally too much struck by ,titian's great picture of the ,assumption1 to be able to pay proper attention to the other works in this gallery4 ,let him1 however1 ask himself candidly1 how much of his admiration is dependent merely upon the picture being larger than any other in the room1 and having bright masses of red and blue in it3 let him be assured that the picture is in reality not one whit the better for being either large1 or gaudy in color2 and he will then be better disposed to give the pains necessary to discover the merit of the more profound and solemn works of ,bellini and ,tintoret4 ,one of the most wonderful works in the whole gallery is ,tintoret's ,death of ,abel1 on the left of the ,assumption2 the ,adam and ,eve1 on the right of it1 is hardly inferior2 and both are more characteristic examples of the master1 and in many respects better pictures1 than the much vaunted ,miracle of ,st4 ,mark4 ,all the works of ,bellini in this room are of great beauty and interest4 ,in the great room1 that which contains ,titian's ,presentation of the ,virgin1 the traveller should examine carefully all the pictures by ,vittor ,carpaccio and ,gentile ,bellini1 which represent scenes in ancient ,venice2 they are full of interesting architecture and costume4 ,marco ,basaiti's ,agony in the ,garden is a lovely example of the religious school4 ,the ,tintorets in this room are all second rate1 but most of the ,veronese are good1 and the large ones are magnificent4 ,,aliga4 ,see ,,giorgio4 ,,alvise1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,i have never been in this church1 but ,lazari dates its interior1 with decision1 as of the year #achh1 and it may be worth a glance1 if the traveller has time4 ,,andrea1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,well worth visiting for the sake of the peculiarly sweet and melancholy effect of its little grass-grown campo1 opening to the lagoon and the ,alps4 ,the sculpture over the door1 ,st4 ,peter walking on the ,water1 is a quaint piece of ,renaissance work4 ,note the distant rocky landscape1 and the oar of the existing gondola floating by ,st4 ,andrew's boat4 ,the church is of the later ,gothic period1 much defaced1 but still picturesque4 ,the lateral windows are bluntly trefoiled1 and good of their time4 ,,angeli1 ,,church ,,delgli1 at ,murano4 ,the sculpture of the ,annunciation over the entrance-gate is graceful4 ,in exploring ,murano1 it is worth while to row up the great canal thus far for the sake of the opening to the lagoon4 ,,antonino1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,apollinare1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,apostoli1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,the exterior is nothing4 ,there is said to be a picture by ,veronese in the interior1 ,the ,fall of the ,manna4 ,i have not seen it2 but1 if it be of importance1 the traveller should compare it carefully with ,tintoret's1 in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco1 and ,san ,giorgio ,maggiore4 ,,apostoli1 ,,palace ,,at1 ,,ii4 #bec1 on the ,grand ,canal1 near the ,rialto1 opposite the fruit-market4 ,a most important transitional palace4 ,its sculpture in the first story is peculiarly rich and curious2 ,i think ,venetian1 in imitation of ,byzantine4 ,the sea story and first floor are of the first half of the thirteenth century1 the rest modern4 ,observe that only one wing of the sea story is left1 the other half having been modernized4 ,the traveller should land to look at the capital drawn in ,plate ,,ii4 of ,vol4 ,,iii4 fig4 #g4 ,,arsenal4 ,its gateway is a curiously picturesque example of ,renaissance workmanship1 admirably sharp and expressive in its ornamental sculpture2 it is in many parts like some of the best ,byzantine work4 ,the ,greek lions in front of it appear to me to deserve more praise than they have received2 though they are awkwardly balanced between conventional and imitative representation1 having neither the severity proper to the one1 nor the veracity necessary for the other4 ,b ,,badoer1 ,,palazzo1 in the ,campo ,san ,giovanni in ,bragola4 ,a magnificent example of the fourteenth century ,gothic1 circa #acaj-acbj1 anterior to the ,ducal ,palace1 and showing beautiful ranges of the fifth order window1 with fragments of the original balconies1 and the usual lateral window larger than any of the rest4 ,in the centre of its arcade on the first floor is the inlaid ornament drawn in ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,i4 ,the fresco painting on the walls is of later date2 and ,i believe the heads which form the finials have been inserted afterwards also1 the original windows having been pure fifth order4 ,the building is now a ruin1 inhabited by the lowest orders2 the first floor1 when ,i was last in ,venice1 by a laundress4 ,,baffo1 ,,palazzo1 in the ,campo ,st4 ,maurizio4 ,the commonest late ,renaissance4 ,a few olive leaves and vestiges of two figures still remain upon it1 of the frescoes by ,paul ,veronese1 with which it was once adorned4 ,,balbi1 ,,palazzo1 in ,volta di ,canal4 ,of no importance4 ,,barbarigo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 next the ,casa ,pisani4 ,late ,renaissance2 noticeable only as a house in which some of the best pictures of ,titian were allowed to be ruined by damp1 and out of which they were then sold to the ,emperor of ,russia4 ,,barbaro1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 next the ,palazzo ,cavalli4 ,these two buildings form the principal objects in the foreground of the view which almost every artist seizes on his first traverse of the ,grand ,canal1 the ,church of the ,salute forming a most graceful distance4 ,neither is1 however1 of much value1 except in general effect2 but the ,barbaro is the best1 and the pointed arcade in its side wall1 seen from the narrow canal between it and the ,cavalli1 is good ,gothic1 of the earliest fourteenth century type4 ,,barnaba1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,bartolomeo1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,i did not go to look at the works of ,sebastian del ,piombo which it contains1 fully crediting ,m4 ,lazari's statement1 that they have been ,barbaramente sfigurati da mani imperite1 che pretendevano ristaurarli4 ,otherwise the church is of no importance4 ,,basso1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,battagia1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of no importance4 ,,beccherie4 ,see ,,querini4 ,,bembo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 next the ,casa ,manin4 ,a noble ,gothic pile1 circa #acej-achj1 which1 before it was painted by the modern ,venetians with the two most valuable colors of ,tintoret1 ,bianco e ,nero1 by being whitewashed above1 and turned into a coal warehouse below1 must have been among the most noble in effect on the whole ,grand ,canal4 ,it still forms a beautiful group with the ,rialto1 some large shipping being generally anchored at its quay4 ,its sea story and entresol are of earlier date1 ,i believe1 than the rest2 the doors of the former are ,byzantine 7see above1 ,final ,appendix1 under head ,jambs72 and above the entresol is a beautiful ,byzantine cornice1 built into the wall1 and harmonizing well with the ,gothic work4 ,,bembo1 ,,palazzo1 in the ,calle ,magno1 at the ,campo de' due ,pozzi1 close to the ,arsenal4 ,noticed by ,lazari and ,selvatico as having a very interesting staircase4 ,it is early ,gothic1 circa #accj1 but not a whit more interesting than many others of similar date and design4 ,see ,contarini ,porta de ,ferro1 ,morosini1 ,sanudo1 and ,minelli4 ,,benedetto1 ,,campo ,,of ,,st4 ,do not fail to see the superb1 though partially ruinous1 ,gothic palace fronting this little square4 ,it is very late ,gothic1 just passing into ,renaissance2 unique in ,venice1 in masculine character1 united with the delicacy of the incipient style4 ,observe especially the brackets of the balconies1 the flower-work on the cornices1 and the arabesques on the angles of the balconies themselves4 ,,benedetto1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,bernardo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,a very noble pile of early fifteenth century ,gothic1 founded on the ,ducal ,palace4 ,the traceries in its lateral windows are both rich and unusual4 ,,bernardo1 ,,palazzo1 at ,st4 ,polo4 ,a glorious palace1 on a narrow canal1 in a part of ,venice now inhabited by the lower orders only4 ,it is rather late ,central ,gothic1 circa #achj-adjj1 but of the finest kind1 and superb in its effect of color when seen from the side4 ,a capital in the interior court is much praised by ,selvatico and ,lazari1 because its foglie d'acanto 7anything by the by1 but acanthus71 quasi agitate de vento si attorcigliano d'intorno alla campana1 concetto non indegno della bell'epoca greca6 ,does this mean epoca ,bisantina8 ,the capital is simply a translation into ,gothic sculpture of the ,byzantine ones of ,st4 ,mark's and the ,fondaco de' ,turchi 7see ,plate ,,viii4 ,vol4 ,i4 fig4 #ad71 and is far inferior to either4 ,but1 taken as a whole1 ,i think that1 after the ,ducal ,palace1 this is the noblest in effect of all in ,venice4 ,,brenta1 ,banks of the1 ,i4 #ced4 ,villas on the1 ,i4 #ced4 ,,businello1 ,,casa1 ,,ii4 #cia4 ,,byzantine ,,palaces generally1 ,,ii4 #aah4 ,c ,,camerlenghi1 ,,palace ,,of ,,the1 beside the ,rialto4 ,a graceful work of the early ,renaissance 7#aebe7 passing into ,roman ,renaissance4 ,its details are inferior to most of the work of the school4 ,the ,camerlenghi1 properly ,camerlenghi di ,comune1 were the three officers or ministers who had care of the administration of public expenses4 ,,cancellaria1 ,,ii4 #bic4 ,,canciano1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,cappello1 ,,palazzo1 at ,st4 ,aponal4 ,of no interest4 ,some say that ,bianca ,cappello fled from it2 but the tradition seems to fluctuate between the various houses belonging to her family4 ,,carit1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,once an interesting ,gothic church of the fourteenth century1 lately defaced1 and applied to some of the usual important purposes of the modern ,italians4 ,the effect of its ancient faade may partly be guessed at from the pictures of ,canaletto1 but only guessed at2 ,canaletto being less to be trusted for renderings of details1 than the rudest and most ignorant painter of the thirteenth century4 ,,carmini1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,a most interesting church of late thirteenth century work1 but much altered and defaced4 ,its nave1 in which the early shafts and capitals of the pure truncate form are unaltered1 is very fine in effect2 its lateral porch is quaint and beautiful1 decorated with ,byzantine circular sculptures 7of which the central one is given in ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,plate ,,xi4 fig4 #e71 and supported on two shafts whose capitals are the most archaic examples of the pure ,rose form that ,i know in ,venice4 ,there is a glorious ,tintoret over the first altar on the right in entering2 the ,circumcision of ,christ4 ,i do not know an aged head either more beautiful or more picturesque than that of the high priest4 ,the cloister is full of notable tombs1 nearly all dated2 one1 of the fifteenth century1 to the left on entering1 is interesting from the color still left on the leaves and flowers of its sculptured roses4 ,,cassano1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,this church must on no account be missed1 as it contains three ,tintorets1 of which one1 the ,crucifixion1 is among the finest in ,europe4 ,there is nothing worth notice in the building itself1 except the jamb of an ancient door 7left in the ,renaissance buildings1 facing the canal71 which has been given among the examples of ,byzantine jambs2 and the traveller may1 therefore1 devote his entire attention to the three pictures in the chancel4 #a4 ,the ,crucifixion4 7,on the left of the high altar47 ,it is refreshing to find a picture taken care of1 and in a bright though not a good light1 so that such parts of it as are seen at all are seen well4 ,it is also in a better state than most pictures in galleries1 and most remarkable for its new and strange treatment of the subject4 ,it seems to have been painted more for the artist's own delight1 than with any labored attempt at composition2 the horizon is so low that the spectator must fancy himself lying at full length on the grass1 or rather among the brambles and luxuriant weeds1 of which the foreground is entirely composed4 ,among these1 the seamless robe of ,christ has fallen at the foot of the cross2 the rambling briars and wild grasses thrown here and there over its folds of rich1 but pale1 crimson4 ,behind them1 and seen through them1 the heads of a troop of ,roman soldiers are raised against the sky2 and1 above them1 their spears and halberds form a thin forest against the horizontal clouds4 ,the three crosses are put on the extreme right of the picture1 and its centre is occupied by the executioners1 one of whom1 standing on a ladder1 receives from the other at once the sponge and the tablet with the letters ,,inri4 ,the ,madonna and ,st4 ,john are on the extreme left1 superbly painted1 like all the rest1 but quite subordinate4 ,in fact1 the whole mind of the painter seems to have been set upon making the principals accessary1 and the accessaries principal4 ,we look first at the grass1 and then at the scarlet robe2 and then at the clump of distant spears1 and then at the sky1 and last of all at the cross4 ,as a piece of color1 the picture is notable for its extreme modesty4 ,there is not a single very full or bright tint in any part1 and yet the color is delighted in throughout2 not the slightest touch of it but is delicious4 ,it is worth notice also1 and especially1 because this picture being in a fresh state we are sure of one fact1 that1 like nearly all other great colorists1 ,tintoret was afraid of light greens in his vegetation4 ,he often uses dark blue greens in his shadowed trees1 but here where the grass is in full light1 it is all painted with various hues of sober brown1 more especially where it crosses the crimson robe4 ,the handling of the whole is in his noblest manner2 and ,i consider the picture generally quite beyond all price4 ,it was cleaned1 ,i believe1 some years ago1 but not injured1 or at least as little injured as it is possible for a picture to be which has undergone any cleaning process whatsoever4 #b4 ,the ,resurrection4 7,over the high altar47 ,the lower part of this picture is entirely concealed by a miniature temple1 about five feet high1 on the top of the altar2 certainly an insult little expected by ,tintoret1 as1 by getting on steps1 and looking over the said temple1 one may see that the lower figures of the picture are the most labored4 ,it is strange that the painter never seemed able to conceive this subject with any power1 and in the present work he is marvellously hampered by various types and conventionalities4 ,it is not a painting of the ,resurrection1 but of ,roman ,catholic saints1 thinking about the ,resurrection4 ,on one side of the tomb is a bishop in full robes1 on the other a female saint1 ,i know not who2 beneath it1 an angel playing on an organ1 and a cherub blowing it2 and other cherubs flying about the sky1 with flowers2 the whole conception being a mass of ,renaissance absurdities4 ,it is1 moreover1 heavily painted1 over-done1 and over-finished2 and the forms of the cherubs utterly heavy and vulgar4 ,i cannot help fancying the picture has been restored in some way or another1 but there is still great power in parts of it4 ,if it be a really untouched ,tintoret1 it is a highly curious example of failure from over-labor on a subject into which his mind was not thrown3 the color is hot and harsh1 and felt to be so more painfully1 from its opposition to the grand coolness and chastity of the ,crucifixion4 ,the face of the angel playing the organ is highly elaborated2 so1 also1 the flying cherubs4 #c4 ,the ,descent into ,hades4 7,on the right-hand side of the high altar47 ,much injured and little to be regretted4 ,i never was more puzzled by any picture1 the painting being throughout careless1 and in some places utterly bad1 and yet not like modern work2 the principal figure1 however1 of ,eve1 has either been redone1 or is scholar's work altogether1 as1 ,i suspect1 most of the rest of the picture4 ,it looks as if ,tintoret had sketched it when he was ill1 left it to a bad scholar to work on with1 and then finished it in a hurry2 but he has assuredly had something to do with it2 it is not likely that anybody else would have refused all aid from the usual spectral company with which common painters fill the scene4 ,bronzino1 for instance1 covers his canvas with every form of monster that his sluggish imagination could coin4 ,tintoret admits only a somewhat haggard ,adam1 a graceful ,eve1 two or three ,venetians in court dress1 seen amongst the smoke1 and a ,satan represented as a handsome youth1 recognizable only by the claws on his feet4 ,the picture is dark and spoiled1 but ,i am pretty sure there are no demons or spectres in it4 ,this is quite in accordance with the master's caprice1 but it considerably diminishes the interest of a work in other ways unsatisfactory4 ,there may once have been something impressive in the shooting in of the rays at the top of the cavern1 as well as in the strange grass that grows in the bottom1 whose infernal character is indicated by its all being knotted together2 but so little of these parts can be seen1 that it is not worth spending time on a work certainly unworthy of the master1 and in great part probably never seen by him4 ,,cattarina1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 said to contain a chef-d'oeuvre of ,paul ,veronese1 the ,marriage of ,st4 ,catherine4 ,i have not seen it4 ,,cavalli1 ,,palazzo1 opposite the ,academy of ,arts4 ,an imposing pile1 on the ,grand ,canal1 of ,renaissance ,gothic1 but of little merit in the details2 and the effect of its traceries has been of late destroyed by the fittings of modern external blinds4 ,its balconies are good1 of the later ,gothic type4 ,see ,,barbaro4 ,,cavalli1 ,,palazzo1 next the ,casa ,grimani 7or ,post-,office71 but on the other side of the narrow canal4 ,good ,gothic1 founded on the ,ducal ,palace1 circa #achj4 ,the capitals of the first story are remarkably rich in the deep fillets at the necks4 ,the crests1 heads of sea-horses1 inserted between the windows1 appear to be later1 but are very fine of their kind4 ,,cicogna1 ,,palazzo1 at ,san ,sebastiano1 ,,ii4 #bfe4 ,,clemente1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,on an island to the south of ,venice1 from which the view of the city is peculiarly beautiful4 ,see ,,scalzi4 ,,contarini ,,porta ,,di ,,ferro1 ,,palazzo1 near the ,church of ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 so called from the beautiful ironwork on a door1 which was some time ago taken down by the proprietor and sold4 ,mr4 ,rawdon ,brown rescued some of the ornaments from the hands of the blacksmith1 who had bought them for old iron4 ,the head of the door is a very interesting stone arch of the early thirteenth century1 already drawn in my folio work4 ,in the interior court is a beautiful remnant of staircase1 with a piece of balcony at the top1 circa #acej1 and one of the most richly and carefully wrought in ,venice4 ,the palace1 judging by these remnants 7all that are now left of it1 except a single traceried window of the same date at the turn of the stair71 must once have been among the most magnificent in ,venice4 ,,contarini 7,,delle ,,figure71 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 ,,iii4 #ag4 ,,contarini ,,dai ,,scrigni1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,a ,gothic building1 founded on the ,ducal ,palace4 ,two ,renaissance statues in niches at the sides give it its name4 ,,contarini ,,fasan1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 ,,ii4 #bdd4 ,the richest work of the fifteenth century domestic ,gothic in ,venice1 but notable more for richness than excellence of design4 ,in one respect1 however1 it deserves to be regarded with attention1 as showing how much beauty and dignity may be bestowed on a very small and unimportant dwelling-house by ,gothic sculpture4 ,foolish criticisms upon it have appeared in ,english accounts of foreign buildings1 objecting to it on the ground of its being ill-proportioned2 the simple fact being1 that there was no room in this part of the canal for a wider house1 and that its builder made its rooms as comfortable as he could1 and its windows and balconies of a convenient size for those who were to see through them1 and stand on them1 and left the proportions outside to take care of themselves2 which1 indeed1 they have very sufficiently done2 for though the house thus honestly confesses its diminutiveness1 it is nevertheless one of the principal ornaments of the very noblest reach of the ,grand ,canal1 and would be nearly as great a loss1 if it were destroyed1 as the ,church of ,la ,salute itself4 ,,contarini1 ,,palazzo1 at ,st4 ,luca4 ,of no importance4 ,,corner ,,della ,,ca' ,,grande1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,one of the worst and coldest buildings of the central ,renaissance1 ,it is on a grand scale1 and is a conspicuous object1 rising over the roofs of the neighboring houses in the various aspects of the entrance of the ,grand ,canal1 and in the general view of ,venice from ,san ,clemente4 ,,corner ,,della ,,regina1 ,,palazzo4 ,a late ,renaissance building of no merit or interest4 ,,corner ,,mocenigo1 ,,palazzo1 at ,st4 ,polo4 ,of no interest4 ,,corner ,,spinelli1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,a graceful and interesting example of the early ,renaissance1 remarkable for its pretty circular balconies4 ,,corner1 ,,raccolta4 ,i must refer the reader to ,m4 ,lazari's ,guide for an account of this collection1 which1 however1 ought only to be visited if the traveller is not pressed for time4 ,d ,,dandolo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,between the ,casa ,loredan and ,casa ,bembo is a range of modern buildings1 some of which occupy1 ,i believe1 the site of the palace once inhabited by the ,doge ,henry ,dandolo4 ,fragments of early architecture of the ,byzantine school may still be traced in many places among their foundations1 and two doors in the foundation of the ,casa ,bembo itself belong to the same group4 ,there is only one existing palace1 however1 of any value1 on this spot1 a very small but rich ,gothic one of about #acjj1 with two groups of fourth order windows in its second and third stories1 and some ,byzantine circular mouldings built into it above4 ,this is still reported to have belonged to the family of ,dandolo1 and ought to be carefully preserved1 as it is one of the most interesting and ancient ,gothic palaces which yet remain4 ,,danieli1 ,,albergo4 ,see ,nani4 ,,da ,,ponte1 ,,palazzo4 ,of no interest4 ,,dario1 ,,palazzo1 ,i4 #cgj2 ,,iii4 #baa4 ,,dogana ,,di ,,mare1 at the separation of the ,grand ,canal from the ,giudecca4 ,a barbarous building of the time of the ,grotesque ,renaissance 7#afgf71 rendered interesting only by its position4 ,the statue of ,fortune1 forming the weathercock1 standing on the world1 is alike characteristic of the conceits of the time1 and of the hopes and principles of the last days of ,venice4 ,,donato1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 at ,murano1 ,,ii4 #ca4 ,,dona'1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,i believe the palace described under this name as of the twelfth century1 by ,m4 ,lazari1 is that which ,i have called the ,braided ,house1 ,,ii4 #acb1 #cib4 ,d',,oro ,,casa4 ,a noble pile of very quaint ,gothic1 once superb in general effect1 but now destroyed by restorations4 ,i saw the beautiful slabs of red marble1 which formed the bases of its balconies1 and were carved into noble spiral mouldings of strange sections1 half a foot deep1 dashed to pieces when ,i was last in ,venice2 its glorious interior staircase1 by far the most interesting ,gothic monument of the kind in ,venice1 had been carried away1 piece by piece1 and sold for waste marble1 two years before4 ,of what remains1 the most beautiful portions are1 or were1 when ,i last saw them1 the capitals of the windows in the upper story1 most glorious sculpture of the fourteenth century4 ,the fantastic window traceries are1 ,i think1 later2 but the rest of the architecture of this palace is anomalous1 and ,i cannot venture to give any decided opinion respecting it4 ,parts of its mouldings are quite ,byzantine in character1 but look somewhat like imitations4 ,,ducal ,,palace1 ,i4 #bi2 history of1 ,,ii4 #bhb1 etc42 ,,iii4 #aii2 plan and section of1 ,,ii4 #bhb1 #bhc2 description of1 ,,ii4 #cjd1 etc42 series of its capitals1 ,,ii4 #ccb1 etc42 spandrils of1 ,i4 #bii1 #dae2 shafts of1 ,i4 #dac2 traceries of1 derived from those of the ,frari1 ,,ii4 #bcd2 angles of1 ,,ii4 #bci2 main balcony of1 ,,ii4 #bde2 base of1 ,,iii4 #bab2 ,rio ,faade of1 ,,iii4 #be2 paintings in1 ,,ii4 #cgb4 ,the multitude of works by various masters1 which cover the walls of this palace is so great1 that the traveller is in general merely wearied and confused by them4 ,he had better refuse all attention except to the following works3 #a4 ,paradise1 by ,tintoret2 at the extremity of the ,great ,council chamber4 ,i found it impossible to count the number of figures in this picture1 of which the grouping is so intricate1 that at the upper part it is not easy to distinguish one figure from another2 but ,i counted #aej important figures in one half of it alone2 so that1 as there are nearly as many in subordinate position1 the total number cannot be under #ejj4 ,i believe this is1 on the whole1 ,tintoret's chef-d'oeuvre2 though it is so vast that no one takes the trouble to read it1 and therefore less wonderful pictures are preferred to it4 ,i have not myself been able to study except a few fragments of it1 all executed in his finest manner2 but it may assist a hurried observer to point out to him that the whole composition is divided into concentric zones1 represented one above another like the stories of a cupola1 round the figures of ,christ and the ,madonna1 at the central and highest point3 both these figures are exceedingly dignified and beautiful4 ,between each zone or belt of the nearer figures1 the white distances of heaven are seen filled with floating spirits4 ,the picture is1 on the whole1 wonderfully preserved1 and the most precious thing that ,venice possesses4 ,she will not possess it long2 for the ,venetian academicians1 finding it exceedingly unlike their own works1 declare it to want harmony1 and are going to retouch it to their own ideas of perfection4 #b4 ,siege of ,zara2 the first picture on the right on entering the ,sala del ,scrutinio4 ,it is a mere battle piece1 in which the figures1 like the arrows1 are put in by the score4 ,there are high merits in the thing1 and so much invention that it is possible ,tintoret may have made the sketch for it2 but1 if executed by him at all1 he has done it merely in the temper in which a sign-painter meets the wishes of an ambitious landlord4 ,he seems to have been ordered to represent all the events of the battle at once2 and to have felt that1 provided he gave men1 arrows1 and ships enough1 his employers would be perfectly satisfied4 ,the picture is a vast one1 some thirty feet by fifteen4 ,various other pictures will be pointed out by the custode1 in these two rooms1 as worthy of attention1 but they are only historically1 not artistically1 interesting4 ,the works of ,paul ,veronese on the ceiling have been repainted2 and the rest of the pictures on the walls are by second-rate men4 ,the traveller must1 once for all1 be warned against mistaking the works of ,domenico ,robusti 7,domenico ,tintoretto71 a very miserable painter1 for those of his illustrious father1 ,jacopo4 #c4 ,the ,doge ,grimani kneeling before ,faith1 by ,titian2 in the ,sala delle quattro ,porte4 ,to be observed with care1 as one of the most striking examples of ,titian's want of feeling and coarseness of conception4 7,see above1 ,vol4 ,i4 p4 #ab47 ,as a work of mere art1 it is1 however1 of great value4 ,the traveller who has been accustomed to deride ,turner's indistinctness of touch1 ought to examine carefully the mode of painting the ,venice in the distance at the bottom of this picture4 #d4 ,frescoes on the ,roof of the ,sala delle quattro ,porte1 by ,tintoret4 ,once magnificent beyond description1 now mere wrecks 7the plaster crumbling away in large flakes71 but yet deserving of the most earnest study4 #e4 ,christ taken down from the ,cross1 by ,tintoret2 at the upper end of the ,sala dei ,pregadi4 ,one of the most interesting mythic pictures of ,venice1 two doges being represented beside the body of ,christ1 and a most noble painting2 executed1 however1 for distant effect1 and seen best from the end of the room4 #f4 ,venice1 ,queen of the ,sea1 by ,tintoret4 ,central compartment of the ceiling1 in the ,sala dei ,pregadi4 ,notable for the sweep of its vast green surges1 and for the daring character of its entire conception1 though it is wild and careless1 and in many respects unworthy of the master4 ,note the way in which he has used the fantastic forms of the sea weeds1 with respect to what was above stated 7,,iii4 #aeh71 as to his love of the grotesque4 #g4 ,the ,doge ,loredano in ,prayer to the ,virgin1 by ,tintoret2 in the same room4 ,sickly and pale in color1 yet a grand work2 to be studied1 however1 more for the sake of seeing what a great man does to order1 when he is wearied of what is required from him1 than for its own merit4 #h4 ,st4 ,george and the ,princess4 ,there are1 besides the ,paradise1 only six pictures in the ,ducal ,palace1 as far as ,i know1 which ,tintoret painted carefully1 and those are all exceedingly fine3 the most finished of these are in the ,anti-,collegio2 but those that are most majestic and characteristic of the master are two oblong ones1 made to fill the panels of the walls in the ,anti-,chiesetta2 these two1 each1 ,i suppose1 about eight feet by six1 are in his most quiet and noble manner4 ,there is excessively little color in them1 their prevalent tone being a greyish brown opposed with grey1 black1 and a very warm russet4 ,they are thinly painted1 perfect in tone1 and quite untouched4 ,the first of them is ,st4 ,george and the ,dragon1 the subject being treated in a new and curious way4 ,the principal figure is the princess1 who sits astride on the dragon's neck1 holding him by a bridle of silken riband2 ,st4 ,george stands above and behind her1 holding his hands over her head as if to bless her1 or to keep the dragon quiet by heavenly power2 and a monk stands by on the right1 looking gravely on4 ,there is no expression or life in the dragon1 though the white flashes in its eye are very ghastly3 but the whole thing is entirely typical2 and the princess is not so much represented riding on the dragon1 as supposed to be placed by ,st4 ,george in an attitude of perfect victory over her chief enemy4 ,she has a full rich dress of dull red1 but her figure is somewhat ungraceful4 ,st4 ,george is in grey armor and grey drapery1 and has a beautiful face2 his figure entirely dark against the distant sky4 ,there is a study for this picture in the ,manfrini ,palace4 #i4 ,st4 ,andrew and ,st4 ,jerome4 ,this1 the companion picture1 has even less color than its opposite4 ,it is nearly all brown and grey2 the fig-leaves and olive-leaves brown1 the faces brown1 the dresses brown1 and ,st4 ,andrew holding a great brown cross4 ,there is nothing that can be called color1 except the grey of the sky1 which approaches in some places a little to blue1 and a single piece of dirty brick-red in ,st4 ,jerome's dress2 and yet ,tintoret's greatness hardly ever shows more than in the management of such sober tints4 ,i would rather have these two small brown pictures1 and two others in the ,academy perfectly brown also in their general tone--the ,cain and ,abel and the ,adam and ,eve1--than all the other small pictures in ,venice put together1 which he painted in bright colors1 for altar pieces2 but ,i never saw two pictures which so nearly approached grisailles as these1 and yet were delicious pieces of color4 ,i do not know if ,i am right in calling one of the saints ,st4 ,andrew4 ,he stands holding a great upright wooden cross against the sky4 ,st4 ,jerome reclines at his feet1 against a rock1 over which some glorious fig leaves and olive branches are shooting2 every line of them studied with the most exquisite care1 and yet cast with perfect freedom4 #aj4 ,bacchus and ,ariadne4 ,the most beautiful of the four careful pictures by ,tintoret1 which occupy the angles of the ,anti-,collegio4 ,once one of the noblest pictures in the world1 but now miserably faded1 the sun being allowed to fall on it all day long4 ,the design of the forms of the leafage round the head of the ,bacchus1 and the floating grace of the female figure above1 will1 however1 always give interest to this picture1 unless it be repainted4 ,the other three ,tintorets in this room are careful and fine1 but far inferior to the ,bacchus2 and the ,vulcan and the ,cyclops is a singularly meagre and vulgar study of common models4 #aa4 ,europa1 by ,paul ,veronese3 in the same room4 ,one of the very few pictures which both possess and deserve a high reputation4 #ab4 ,venice enthroned1 by ,paul ,veronese2 on the roof of the same room4 ,one of the grandest pieces of frank color in the ,ducal ,palace4 #ac4 ,venice1 and the ,doge ,sebastian ,venier2 at the upper end of the ,sala del ,collegio4 ,an unrivalled ,paul ,veronese1 far finer even than the ,europa4 #ad4 ,marriage of ,st4 ,catherine1 by ,tintoret2 in the same room4 ,an inferior picture1 but the figure of ,st4 ,catherine is quite exquisite4 ,note how her veil falls over her form1 showing the sky through it1 as an alpine cascade falls over a marble rock4 ,there are three other ,tintorets on the walls of this room1 but all inferior1 though full of power4 ,note especially the painting of the lion's wings1 and of the colored carpet1 in the one nearest the throne1 the ,doge ,alvise ,mocenigo adoring the ,redeemer4 ,the roof is entirely by ,paul ,veronese1 and the traveller who really loves painting1 ought to get leave to come to this room whenever he chooses2 and should pass the sunny summer mornings there again and again1 wandering now and then into the ,anti-,collegio and ,sala dei ,pregadi1 and coming back to rest under the wings of the couched lion at the feet of the ,mocenigo4 ,he will no otherwise enter so deeply into the heart of ,venice4 ,e ,,emo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of no interest4 ,,erizzo1 ,,palazzo1 near the ,arsenal1 ,,ii4 #bfb4 ,,erizzo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 nearly opposite the ,fondaco de',turchi4 ,a ,gothic palace1 with a single range of windows founded on the ,ducal traceries1 and bold capitals4 ,it has been above referred to in the notice of tracery bars4 ,,eufemia1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,a small and defaced1 but very curious1 early ,gothic church on the ,giudecca4 ,not worth visiting1 unless the traveller is seriously interested in architecture4 ,,europa1 ,,albergo1 ,,all'4 ,once a ,giustiniani ,palace4 ,good ,gothic1 circa #adjj1 but much altered4 ,,evangelisti1 ,,casa ,,degli1 ,,ii4 #bfe4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xii4 ,,capitals ,,of ,,fondaco ,,de' ,,turchi4 ,f ,,facanon1 ,,palazzo 7,,alla ,,fava74 ,a fair example of the fifteenth century ,gothic1 founded on ,ducal ,palace4 ,,falier1 ,,palazzo1 at the ,apostoli4 ,above1 ,,ii4 #bec4 ,,fantino1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a ,john ,bellini1 otherwise of no importance4 ,,farsetti1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 ,,ii4 #abd1 #cic4 ,,fava1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,felice1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a ,tintoret1 which1 if untouched1 ,i should conjecture1 from ,lazari's statement of its subject1 ,st4 ,demetrius armed1 with one of the ,ghisi family in prayer1 must be very fine4 ,otherwise the church is of no importance4 ,,ferro1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,fifteenth century ,gothic1 very hard and bad4 ,,flangini1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of no importance4 ,,fondaco ,,de' ,,turchi1 ,i4 #cbh2 ,,ii4 #abj1 #aba1 #bcf4 ,the opposite plate1 representing three of its capitals1 has been several times referred to4 ,,fondaco ,,de' ,,tedeschi4 ,a huge and ugly building near the ,rialto1 rendered1 however1 peculiarly interesting by remnants of the frescoes by ,giorgione with which it was once covered4 ,see ,vol4 ,,ii4 #hj1 and ,,iii4 #bc4 ,,formosa1 ,,church ,,of ,,santa ,,maria1 ,,iii4 #aac1 #abb1 ,,fosca1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,notable for its exceedingly picturesque campanile1 of late ,gothic1 but uninjured by restorations1 and peculiarly ,venetian in being crowned by the cupola instead of the pyramid1 which would have been employed at the same period in any other ,italian city4 ,,foscari1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,the noblest example in ,venice of the fifteenth century ,gothic1 founded on the ,ducal ,palace1 but lately restored and spoiled1 all but the stone-work of the main windows4 ,the restoration was necessary1 however3 for1 when ,i was in ,venice in #ahde1 this palace was a foul ruin2 its great hall a mass of mud1 used as a back receptacle of a stone-mason's yard2 and its rooms whitewashed1 and scribbled over with indecent caricatures4 ,it has since been partially strengthened and put in order2 but as the ,venetian municipality have now given it to the ,austrians to be used as barracks1 it will probably soon be reduced to its former condition4 ,the lower palaces at the side of this building are said by some to have belonged to the younger ,foscari4 ,see ,,giustiniani4 ,,francesco ,,della ,,vigna1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,base ,renaissance1 but must be visited in order to see the ,john ,bellini in the ,cappella ,santa4 ,the late sculpture1 in the ,cappella ,giustiniani1 appears from ,lazari's statement to be deserving of careful study4 ,this church is said also to contain two pictures by ,paul ,veronese4 ,,frari1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,founded in #abej1 and continued at various subsequent periods4 ,the apse and adjoining chapels are the earliest portions1 and their traceries have been above noticed 7,,ii4 #bcd7 as the origin of those of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,the best view of the apse1 which is a very noble example of ,italian ,gothic1 is from the door of the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco4 ,the doors of the church are all later than any other portion of it1 very elaborate ,renaissance ,gothic4 ,the interior is good ,gothic1 but not interesting1 except in its monuments4 ,of these1 the following are noticed in the text of this volume3 ,that of ,duccio degli ,alberti1 at pages #gd1 #hj2 of the unknown ,knight1 opposite that of ,duccio1 ,,iii4 #gd2 of ,francesco ,foscari1 ,,iii4 #hd2 of ,giovanni ,pesaro1 #ia2 of ,jacopo ,pesaro1 #ib4 ,besides these tombs1 the traveller ought to notice carefully that of ,pietro ,bernardo1 a first-rate example of ,renaissance work2 nothing can be more detestable or mindless in general design1 or more beautiful in execution4 ,examine especially the griffins1 fixed in admiration of bouquets1 at the bottom4 ,the fruit and flowers which arrest the attention of the griffins may well arrest the traveller's also2 nothing can be finer of their kind4 ,the tomb of ,canova1 by ,canova1 cannot be missed2 consummate in science1 intolerable in affectation1 ridiculous in conception1 null and void to the uttermost in invention and feeling4 ,the equestrian statue of ,paolo ,savelli is spirited2 the monument of the ,beato ,pacifico1 a curious example of ,renaissance ,gothic with wild crockets 7all in terra cotta74 ,there are several good ,vivarini's in the church1 but its chief pictorial treasure is the ,john ,bellini in the sacristy1 the most finished and delicate example of the master in ,venice4 ,g ,,geremia1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,gesuati1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,of no importance4 ,,giacomo ,,de ,,lorio1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 a most interesting church1 of the early thirteenth century1 but grievously restored4 ,its capitals have been already noticed as characteristic of the earliest ,gothic2 and it is said to contain four works of ,paul ,veronese1 but ,i have not examined them4 ,the pulpit is admired by the ,italians1 but is utterly worthless4 ,the verdantique pillar1 in the south transept1 is a very noble example of the ,jewel ,shaft4 ,see the note at p4 #hc1 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,,giacomo ,,di ,,rialto1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,a picturesque little church1 on the ,piazza di ,rialto4 ,it has been grievously restored1 but the pillars and capitals of its nave are certainly of the eleventh century2 those of its portico are of good central ,gothic2 and it will surely not be left unvisited1 on this ground1 if on no other1 that it stands on the site1 and still retains the name1 of the first church ever built on that ,rialto which formed the nucleus of future ,venice1 and became afterwards the mart of her merchants4 ,,giobbe1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 near the ,cana ,reggio4 ,its principal entrance is a very fine example of early ,renaissance sculpture4 ,note in it1 especially1 its beautiful use of the flower of the convolvulus4 ,there are said to be still more beautiful examples of the same period1 in the interior4 ,the cloister1 though much defaced1 is of the ,gothic period1 and worth a glance4 ,,giorgio ,,de' ,,greci1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,the ,greek ,church4 ,it contains no valuable objects of art1 but its service is worth attending by those who have never seen the ,greek ritual4 ,,giorgio ,,de' ,,schiavoni1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a very precious series of paintings by ,victor ,carpaccio4 ,otherwise of no interest4 ,,giorgio ,,in ,,aliga 7,st4 ,george in the seaweed71 ,church of ,st4 ,unimportant in itself1 but the most beautiful view of ,venice at sunset is from a point at about two thirds of the distance from the city to the island4 ,,giorgio ,,maggiore1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,a building which owes its interesting effect chiefly to its isolated position1 being seen over a great space of lagoon4 ,the traveller should especially notice in its faade the manner in which the central ,renaissance architects 7of whose style this church is a renowned example7 endeavored to fit the laws they had established to the requirements of their age4 ,churches were required with aisles and clerestories1 that is to say1 with a high central nave and lower wings2 and the question was1 how to face this form with pillars of one proportion4 ,the noble ,romanesque architects built story above story1 as at ,pisa and ,lucca2 but the base ,palladian architects dared not do this4 ,they must needs retain some image of the ,greek temple2 but the ,greek temple was all of one height1 a low gable roof being borne on ranges of equal pillars4 ,so the ,palladian builders raised first a ,greek temple with pilasters for shafts2 and1 through the middle of its roof1 or horizontal beam1 that is to say1 of the cornice which externally represented this beam1 they lifted another temple on pedestals1 adding these barbarous appendages to the shafts1 which otherwise would not have been high enough2 fragments of the divided cornice or tie-beam being left between the shafts1 and the great door of the church thrust in between the pedestals4 ,it is impossible to conceive a design more gross1 more barbarous1 more childish in conception1 more servile in plagiarism1 more insipid in result1 more contemptible under every point of rational regard4 ,observe1 also1 that when ,palladio had got his pediment at the top of the church1 he did not know what to do with it2 he had no idea of decorating it except by a round hole in the middle4 7,the traveller should compare1 both in construction and decoration1 the ,church of the ,redentore with this of ,san ,giorgio47 ,now1 a dark penetration is often a most precious assistance to a building dependent upon color for its effect2 for a cavity is the only means in the architect's power of obtaining certain and vigorous shadow2 and for this purpose1 a circular penetration1 surrounded by a deep russet marble moulding1 is beautifully used in the centre of the white field on the side of the portico of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,but ,palladio had given up color1 and pierced his pediment with a circular cavity1 merely because he had not wit enough to fill it with sculpture4 ,the interior of the church is like a large assembly room1 and would have been undeserving of a moment's attention1 but that it contains some most precious pictures1 namely3 #a4 ,gathering the ,manna4 7,on the left hand of the high altar47 ,one of ,tintoret's most remarkable landscapes4 ,a brook flowing through a mountainous country1 studded with thickets and palm trees2 the congregation have been long in the ,wilderness1 and are employed in various manufactures much more than in gathering the manna4 ,one group is forging1 another grinding manna in a mill1 another making shoes1 one woman making a piece of dress1 some washing2 the main purpose of ,tintoret being evidently to indicate the continuity of the supply of heavenly food4 ,another painter would have made the congregation hurrying to gather it1 and wondering at it2 ,tintoret at once makes us remember that they have been fed with it by the space of forty years4 ,it is a large picture1 full of interest and power1 but scattered in effect1 and not striking except from its elaborate landscape4 #b4 ,the ,last ,supper4 7,opposite the former47 ,these two pictures have been painted for their places1 the subjects being illustrative of the sacrifice of the mass4 ,this latter is remarkable for its entire homeliness in the general treatment of the subject2 the entertainment being represented like any large supper in a second-rate ,italian inn1 the figures being all comparatively uninteresting2 but we are reminded that the subject is a sacred one1 not only by the strong light shining from the head of ,christ1 but because the smoke of the lamp which hangs over the table turns1 as it rises1 into a multitude of angels1 all painted in grey1 the color of the smoke2 and so writhed and twisted together that the eye hardly at first distinguishes them from the vapor out of which they are formed1 ghosts of countenances and filmy wings filling up the intervals between the completed heads4 ,the idea is highly characteristic of the master4 ,the picture has been grievously injured1 but still shows miracles of skill in the expression of candle-light mixed with twilight2 variously reflected rays1 and half tones of the dimly lighted chamber1 mingled with the beams of the lantern and those from the head of ,christ1 flashing along the metal and glass upon the table1 and under it along the floor1 and dying away into the recesses of the room4 #c4 ,martyrdom of various ,saints4 7,altar piece of the third altar in the ,south aisle47 ,a moderately sized picture1 and now a very disagreeable one1 owing to the violent red into which the color that formed the glory of the angel at the top is changed4 ,it has been hastily painted1 and only shows the artist's power in the energy of the figure of an executioner drawing a bow1 and in the magnificent ease with which the other figures are thrown together in all manner of wild groups and defiances of probability4 ,stones and arrows are flying about in the air at random4 #d4 ,coronation of the ,virgin4 7,fourth altar in the same aisle47 ,painted more for the sake of the portraits at the bottom1 than of the ,virgin at the top4 ,a good picture1 but somewhat tame for ,tintoret1 and much injured4 ,the principal figure1 in black1 is still1 however1 very fine4 #e4 ,resurrection of ,christ4 7,at the end of the north aisle1 in the chapel beside the choir47 ,another picture painted chiefly for the sake of the included portraits1 and remarkably cold in general conception2 its color has1 however1 been gay and delicate1 lilac1 yellow1 and blue being largely used in it4 ,the flag which our ,saviour bears in his hand1 has been once as bright as the sail of a ,venetian fishing-boat1 but the colors are now all chilled1 and the picture is rather crude than brilliant2 a mere wreck of what it was1 and all covered with droppings of wax at the bottom4 #f4 ,martyrdom of ,st4 ,stephen4 7,altar piece in the north transept47 ,the ,saint is in a rich prelate's dress1 looking as if he had just been saying mass1 kneeling in the foreground1 and perfectly serene4 ,the stones are flying about him like hail1 and the ground is covered with them as thickly as if it were a river bed4 ,but in the midst of them1 at the saint's right hand1 there is a book lying1 crushed but open1 two or three stones which have torn one of its leaves lying upon it4 ,the freedom and ease with which the leaf is crumpled is just as characteristic of the master as any of the grander features2 no one but ,tintoret could have so crushed a leaf2 but the idea is still more characteristic of him1 for the book is evidently meant for the ,mosaic ,history which ,stephen had just been expounding1 and its being crushed by the stones shows how the blind rage of the ,jews was violating their own law in the murder of ,stephen4 ,in the upper part of the picture are three figures1--,christ1 the ,father1 and ,st4 ,michael4 ,christ of course at the right hand of the ,father1 as ,stephen saw him standing2 but there is little dignity in this part of the conception4 ,in the middle of the picture1 which is also the middle distance1 are three or four men throwing stones1 with ,tintoret's usual vigor of gesture1 and behind them an immense and confused crowd2 so that1 at first1 we wonder where ,st4 ,paul is2 but presently we observe that1 in the front of this crowd1 and almost exactly in the centre of the picture1 there is a figure seated on the ground1 very noble and quiet1 and with some loose garments thrown across its knees4 ,it is dressed in vigorous black and red4 ,the figure of the ,father in the sky above is dressed in black and red also1 and these two figures are the centres of color to the whole design4 ,it is almost impossible to praise too highly the refinement of conception which withdrew the unconverted ,st4 ,paul into the distance1 so as entirely to separate him from the immediate interest of the scene1 and yet marked the dignity to which he was afterward to be raised1 by investing him with the colors which occurred nowhere else in the picture except in the dress which veils the form of the ,godhead4 ,it is also to be noted as an interesting example of the value which the painter put upon color only2 another composer would have thought it necessary to exalt the future apostle by some peculiar dignity of action or expression4 ,the posture of the figure is indeed grand1 but inconspicuous2 ,tintoret does not depend upon it1 and thinks that the figure is quite ennobled enough by being made a key-note of color4 ,it is also worth observing how boldly imaginative is the treatment which covers the ground with piles of stones1 and yet leaves the martyr apparently unwounded4 ,another painter would have covered him with blood1 and elaborated the expression of pain upon his countenance4 ,tintoret leaves us under no doubt as to what manner of death he is dying2 he makes the air hurtle with the stones1 but he does not choose to make his picture disgusting1 or even painful4 ,the face of the martyr is serene1 and exulting2 and we leave the picture1 remembering only how he fell asleep4 ,,giovanelli1 ,,palazzo1 at the ,ponte di ,noale4 ,a fine example of fifteenth century ,gothic1 founded on the ,ducal ,palace4 ,,giovanni ,e ,,paolo1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4#gb ,foundation of1 ,,iii4 #fi4 ,an impressive church1 though none of its ,gothic is comparable with that of the ,north1 or with that of ,verona4 ,the ,western door is interesting as one of the last conditions of ,gothic design passing into ,renaissance1 very rich and beautiful of its kind1 especially the wreath of fruit and flowers which forms its principal molding4 ,the statue of ,bartolomeo ,colleone1 in the little square beside the church1 is certainly one of the noblest works in ,italy4 ,i have never seen anything approaching it in animation1 in vigor of portraiture1 or nobleness of line4 ,the reader will need ,lazari's ,guide in making the circuit of the church1 which is full of interesting monuments3 but ,i wish especially to direct his attention to two pictures1 besides the celebrated ,peter ,martyr3 namely1 #a4 ,the ,crucifixion1 by ,tintoret2 on the wall of the left-hand aisle1 just before turning into the transept4 ,a picture fifteen feet long by eleven or twelve high4 ,i do not believe that either the ,miracle of ,st4 ,mark1 or the great ,crucifixion in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco1 cost ,tintoret more pains than this comparatively small work1 which is now utterly neglected1 covered with filth and cobwebs1 and fearfully injured4 ,as a piece of color1 and light and shade1 it is altogether marvellous4 ,of all the fifty figures which the picture contains1 there is not one which in any way injures or contends with another2 nay1 there is not a single fold of garment or touch of the pencil which could be spared2 every virtue of ,tintoret1 as a painter1 is there in its highest degree1--color at once the most intense and the most delicate1 the utmost decision in the arrangement of masses of light1 and yet half tones and modulations of endless variety2 and all executed with a magnificence of handling which no words are energetic enough to describe4 ,i have hardly ever seen a picture in which there was so much decision1 and so little impetuosity1 and in which so little was conceded to haste1 to accident1 or to weakness4 ,it is too infinite a work to be describable2 but among its minor passages of extreme beauty1 should especially be noticed the manner in which the accumulated forms of the human body1 which fill the picture from end to end1 are prevented from being felt heavy1 by the grace and elasticity of two or three sprays of leafage which spring from a broken root in the foreground1 and rise conspicuous in shadow against an interstice filled by the pale blue1 grey1 and golden light in which the distant crowd is invested1 the office of this foliage being1 in an artistical point of view1 correspondent to that of the trees set by the sculptors of the ,ducal ,palace on its angles4 ,but they have a far more important meaning in the picture than any artistical one4 ,if the spectator will look carefully at the root which ,i have called broken1 he will find that in reality1 it is not broken1 but cut2 the other branches of the young tree having lately been cut away4 ,when we remember that one of the principal incidents in great ,san ,rocco ,crucifixion is the ass feeding on withered palm leaves1 we shall be at no loss to understand the great painter's purpose in lifting the branch of this mutilated olive against the dim light of the distant sky2 while1 close beside it1 ,st4 ,joseph of ,arimathea drags along the dust a white garment--observe1 the principal light of the picture1--stained with the blood of that ,king before whom1 five days before1 his crucifiers had strewn their own garments in the way4 #b4 ,our ,lady with the ,camerlenghi4 7,in the centre chapel of the three on the right of the choir47 ,a remarkable instance of the theoretical manner of representing ,scriptural facts1 which1 at this time1 as noted in the second chapter of this volume1 was undermining the belief of the facts themselves4 ,three ,venetian chamberlains desired to have their portraits painted1 and at the same time to express their devotion to the ,madonna2 to that end they are painted kneeling before her1 and in order to account for their all three being together1 and to give a thread or clue to the story of the picture1 they are represented as the ,three ,magi2 but lest the spectator should think it strange that the ,magi should be in the dress of ,venetian chamberlains1 the scene is marked as a mere ideality1 by surrounding the person of the ,virgin with saints who lived five hundred years after her4 ,she has for attendants ,st4 ,theodore1 ,st4 ,sebastian1 and ,st4 ,carlo 7query ,st4 ,joseph74 ,one hardly knows whether most to regret the spirit which was losing sight of the verities of religious history in imaginative abstractions1 or to praise the modesty and piety which desired rather to be represented as kneeling before the ,virgin than in the discharge or among the insignia of important offices of state4 ,as an ,adoration of the ,magi1 the picture is1 of course1 sufficiently absurd3 the ,st4 ,sebastian leans back in the corner to be out of the way2 the three ,magi kneel1 without the slightest appearance of emotion1 to a ,madonna seated in a ,venetian loggia of the fifteenth century1 and three ,venetian servants behind bear their offerings in a very homely sack1 tied up at the mouth4 ,as a piece of portraiture and artistical composition1 the work is altogether perfect1 perhaps the best piece of ,tintoret's portrait-painting in existence4 ,it is very carefully and steadily wrought1 and arranged with consummate skill on a difficult plan4 ,the canvas is a long oblong1 ,i think about eighteen or twenty feet long1 by about seven high2 one might almost fancy the painter had been puzzled to bring the piece into use1 the figures being all thrown into positions which a little diminish their height4 ,the nearest chamberlain is kneeling1 the two behind him bowing themselves slightly1 the attendants behind bowing lower1 the ,madonna sitting1 the ,st4 ,theodore sitting still lower on the steps at her feet1 and the ,st4 ,sebastian leaning back1 so that all the lines of the picture incline more or less from right to left as they ascend4 ,this slope1 which gives unity to the detached groups1 is carefully exhibited by what a mathematician would call coordinates1--the upright pillars of the loggia and the horizontal clouds of the beautiful sky4 ,the color is very quiet1 but rich and deep1 the local tones being brought out with intense force1 and the cast shadows subdued1 the manner being much more that of ,titian than of ,tintoret4 ,the sky appears full of light1 though it is as dark as the flesh of the faces2 and the forms of its floating clouds1 as well as of the hills over which they rise1 are drawn with a deep remembrance of reality4 ,there are hundreds of pictures of ,tintoret's more amazing than this1 but ,i hardly know one that ,i more love4 ,the reader ought especially to study the sculpture round the altar of the ,capella del ,rosario1 as an example of the abuse of the sculptor's art2 every accessory being labored out with as much ingenuity and intense effort to turn sculpture into painting1 the grass1 trees1 and landscape being as far realized as possible1 and in alto-relievo4 ,these bas-reliefs are by various artists1 and therefore exhibit the folly of the age1 not the error of an individual4 ,the following alphabetical list of the tombs in this church which are alluded to as described in the text1 with references to the pages where they are mentioned1 will save some trouble3 ,cavalli1 ,jacopo1 ,,iii4 #hb4 ,mocenigo1 ,pietro1 ,,iii4 #hi4 ,cornaro1 ,marco1 ,,iii4 #aa4 ,mocenigo1 ,tomaso1 ,i4 #h1 #bf1 ,,iii4 #hd4 ,dolfin1 ,giovanni1 ,,iii4 #gh4 ,morosini1 ,michele1 ,,iii4 #hj4 ,giustiniani1 ,marco1 ,i4 #cae4 ,steno1 ,michele1 ,,iii4 #hc4 ,mocenigo1 ,giovanni1 ,,iii4 #hi4 ,vendramin1 ,andrea1 ,i4 #bg1 ,,iii4 #hh4 ,,giovanni ,,grisostomo1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,one of the most important in ,venice4 ,it is early ,renaissance1 containing some good sculpture1 but chiefly notable as containing a noble ,sebastian del ,piombo1 and a ,john ,bellini1 which a few years hence1 unless it be restored1 will be esteemed one of the most precious pictures in ,italy1 and among the most perfect in the world4 ,john ,bellini is the only artist who appears to me to have united1 in equal and magnificent measures1 justness of drawing1 nobleness of coloring1 and perfect manliness of treatment1 with the purest religious feeling4 ,he did1 as far as it is possible to do it1 instinctively and unaffectedly1 what the ,caracci only pretended to do4 ,titian colors better1 but has not his piety4 ,leonardo draws better1 but has not his color4 ,angelico is more heavenly1 but has not his manliness1 far less his powers of art4 ,,giovanni ,,elemosinario1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a ,titian and a ,bonifazio4 ,of no other interest4 ,,giovanni ,,in ,,bragola1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,a ,gothic church of the fourteenth century1 small1 but interesting1 and said to contain some precious works by ,cima da ,conegliano1 and one by ,john ,bellini4 ,,giovanni ,,novo1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,giovanni1 ,s41 ,,scuola ,,di4 ,a fine example of the ,byzantine ,renaissance1 mixed with remnants of good late ,gothic4 ,the little exterior cortile is sweet in feeling1 and ,lazari praises highly the work of the interior staircase4 ,,giudecca4 ,the crescent-shaped island 7or series of islands71 which forms the most northern extremity of the city of ,venice1 though separated by a broad channel from the main city4 ,commonly said to derive its name from the number of ,jews who lived upon it2 but ,lazari derives it from the word ,judicato1 in ,venetian dialect ,zudeg1 it having been in old time adjudged as a kind of prison territory to the more dangerous and turbulent citizens4 ,it is now inhabited only by the poor1 and covered by desolate groups of miserable dwellings1 divided by stagnant canals4 ,its two principal churches1 the ,redentore and ,st4 ,eufemia1 are named in their alphabetical order4 ,,giuliano1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,giuseppe ,,di ,,castello1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a ,paul ,veronese3 otherwise of no importance4 ,,giustina1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,giustiniani ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 now ,albergo all' ,europa4 ,good late fourteenth century ,gothic1 but much altered4 ,,giustiniani1 ,,palazzo1 next the ,casa ,foscari1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,lazari1 ,i know not on what authority1 says that this palace was built by the ,giustiniani family before #adbh4 ,it is one of those founded directly on the ,ducal ,palace1 together with the ,casa ,foscari at its side3 and there could have been no doubt of their date on this ground2 but it would be interesting1 after what we have seen of the progress of the ,ducal ,palace1 to ascertain the exact year of the erection of any of these imitations4 ,this palace contains some unusually rich detached windows1 full of tracery1 of which the profiles are given in the ,appendix1 under the title of the ,palace of the ,younger ,foscari1 it being popularly reported to have belonged to the son of the ,doge4 ,,giustinian ,,lolin1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of no importance4 ,,grassi ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 now ,albergo all' ,imperator d' ,austria4 ,of no importance4 ,,gregorio1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,an important church of the fourteenth century1 now desecrated1 but still interesting4 ,its apse is on the little canal crossing from the ,grand ,canal to the ,giudecca1 beside the ,church of the ,salute1 and is very characteristic of the rude ecclesiastical ,gothic contemporary with the ,ducal ,palace4 ,the entrance to its cloisters1 from the ,grand ,canal1 is somewhat later2 a noble square door1 with two windows on each side of it1 the grandest examples in ,venice of the late window of the fourth order4 ,the cloister1 to which this door gives entrance1 is exactly contemporary with the finest work of the ,ducal ,palace1 circa #acej4 ,it is the loveliest cortile ,i know in ,venice2 its capitals consummate in design and execution2 and the low wall on which they stand showing remnants of sculpture unique1 as far as ,i know1 in such application4 ,,grimani1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 ,,iii4 #cb4 ,there are several other palaces in ,venice belonging to this family1 but none of any architectural interest4 ,j ,,jesuiti1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,the basest ,renaissance2 but worth a visit in order to examine the imitations of curtains in white marble inlaid with green4 ,it contains a ,tintoret1 ,the ,assumption1 which ,i have not examined2 and a ,titian1 ,the ,martyrdom of ,st4 ,lawrence1 originally1 it seems to me1 of little value1 and now1 having been restored1 of none4 ,l ,,labia ,,palazzo1 on the ,canna ,reggio4 ,of no importance4 ,,lazzaro ,,de' ,,mendicanti1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,libreria ,,vecchia4 ,a graceful building of the central ,renaissance1 designed by ,sansovino1 #aecf1 and much admired by all architects of the school4 ,it was continued by ,scamozzi1 down the whole side of ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 adding another story above it1 which modern critics blame as destroying the eurithmia2 never considering that had the two low stories of the ,library been continued along the entire length of the ,piazza1 they would have looked so low that the entire dignity of the square would have been lost4 ,as it is1 the ,library is left in its originally good proportions1 and the larger mass of the ,procuratie ,nuove forms a more majestic1 though less graceful1 side for the great square4 ,but the real faults of the building are not in its number of stories1 but in the design of the parts4 ,it is one of the grossest examples of the base ,renaissance habit of turning keystones into brackets1 throwing them out in bold projection 7not less than a foot and a half7 beyond the mouldings of the arch2 a practice utterly barbarous1 inasmuch as it evidently tends to dislocate the entire arch1 if any real weight were laid on the extremity of the keystone2 and it is also a very characteristic example of the vulgar and painful mode of filling spandrils by naked figures in alto-relievo1 leaning against the arch on each side1 and appearing as if they were continually in danger of slipping off4 ,many of these figures have1 however1 some merit in themselves2 and the whole building is graceful and effective of its kind4 ,the continuation of the ,procuratie ,nuove1 at the western extremity of ,st4 ,mark's ,place 7together with various apartments in the great line of the ,procuratie ,nuove7 forms the ,royal ,palace1 the residence of the ,emperor when at ,venice4 ,this building is entirely modern1 built in #ahaj1 in imitation of the ,procuratie ,nuove1 and on the site of ,sansovino's ,church of ,san ,geminiano4 ,in this range of buildings1 including the ,royal ,palace1 the ,procuratie ,nuove1 the old ,library1 and the ,zecca which is connected with them 7the latter being an ugly building of very modern date1 not worth notice architecturally71 there are many most valuable pictures1 among which ,i would especially direct attention1 first to those in the ,zecca1 namely1 a beautiful and strange ,madonna1 by ,benedetto ,diana2 two noble ,bonifazios2 and two groups1 by ,tintoret1 of the ,provveditori della ,zecca1 by no means to be missed1 whatever may be sacrificed to see them1 on account of the quietness and veracity of their unaffected portraiture1 and the absolute freedom from all vanity either in the painter or in his subjects4 ,next1 in the ,antisala of the old ,library1 observe the ,sapienza of ,titian1 in the centre of the ceiling2 a most interesting work in the light brilliancy of its color1 and the resemblance to ,paul ,veronese4 ,then1 in the great hall of the old ,library1 examine the two large ,tintorets1 ,st4 ,mark saving a ,saracen from ,drowning1 and the ,stealing of his ,body from ,constantinople1 both rude1 but great 7note in the latter the dashing of the rain on the pavement1 and running of the water about the feet of the figures73 then in the narrow spaces between the windows1 there are some magnificent single figures by ,tintoret1 among the finest things of the kind in ,italy1 or in ,europe4 ,finally1 in the gallery of pictures in the ,palazzo ,reale1 among other good works of various kinds1 are two of the most interesting ,bonifazios in ,venice1 the ,children of ,israel in their journeyings1 in one of which1 if ,i recollect right1 the quails are coming in flight across a sunset sky1 forming one of the earliest instances ,i know of a thoroughly natural and ,turneresque effect being felt and rendered by the old masters4 ,the picture struck me chiefly from this circumstance2 but1 the note-book in which ,i had described it and its companion having been lost on my way home1 ,i cannot now give a more special account of them1 except that they are long1 full of crowded figures1 and peculiarly light in color and handling as compared with ,bonifazio's work in general4 ,,lio1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance1 but said to contain a spoiled ,titian4 ,,lio1 ,,salizzada ,,di ,,st41 windows in1 ,,ii4 #beb1 #beg4 ,,loredan1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 near the ,rialto1 ,,ii4 #abc1 #cic4 ,another palace of this name1 on the ,campo ,st4 ,stefano1 is of no importance4 ,,lorenzo1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,luca1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,its campanile is of very interesting and quaint early ,gothic1 and it is said to contain a ,paul ,veronese1 ,st ,luke and the ,virgin4 ,in the little ,campiello ,st4 ,luca1 close by1 is a very precious ,gothic door1 rich in brickwork1 of the thirteenth century2 and in the foundations of the houses on the same side of the square1 but at the other end of it1 are traceable some shafts and arches closely resembling the work of the ,cathedral of ,murano1 and evidently having once belonged to some most interesting building4 ,,lucia1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,m ,,maddalena1 ,,church ,,of ,,sta4 ,,maria4 ,of no importance4 ,,malipiero1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,campo ,st4 ,m4 ,formosa1 facing the canal at its extremity4 ,a very beautiful example of the ,byzantine ,renaissance4 ,note the management of color in its inlaid balconies4 ,,manfrini1 ,,palazzo4 ,the architecture is of no interest2 and as it is in contemplation to allow the collection of pictures to be sold1 ,i shall take no note of them4 ,but even if they should remain1 there are few of the churches in ,venice where the traveller had not better spend his time than in this gallery2 as1 with the exception of ,titian's ,entombment1 one or two ,giorgiones1 and the little ,john ,bellini 7,st4 ,jerome71 the pictures are all of a kind which may be seen elsewhere4 ,,mangili ,,valmarana1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of no importance4 ,,manin1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of no importance4 ,,manzoni1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 near the ,church of the ,carit4 ,a perfect and very rich example of ,byzantine ,renaissance3 its warm yellow marbles are magnificent4 ,,marcilian1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a ,titian1 ,tobit and the ,angel3 otherwise of no importance4 ,,maria1 ,,churches ,,of ,,sta4 ,see ,,formosa1 ,,mater ,,domini1 ,,miracoli1 ,,orto1 ,,salute1 and ,,zobenigo4 ,,marco1 ,,scuola ,,di ,,san1 ,,iii4 #af4 ,,mark1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 history of1 ,,ii4 #eg2 approach to1 ,,ii4 #ga2 general teaching of1 ,,ii4 #aab1 #aaf2 measures of faade of1 ,,ii4 #abf2 balustrades of1 ,,ii4 #bdd1 #bdg2 cornices of1 ,i4 #caa2 horseshoe arches of1 ,,ii4 #bdi2 entrances of1 ,,ii4 #bga1 ,,iii4 #bde2 shafts of1 ,,ii4 #chd2 base in baptistery of1 ,i4 #bij2 mosaics in atrium of1 ,,ii4 #aab2 mosaics in cupola of1 ,,ii4 #aad1 ,,iii4 #aib2 lily capitals of1 ,,ii4 #acg2 ,plates illustrative of 7,vol4 ,,ii471 ,,vi4 ,,vii4 figs4 #i1 #aj1 #aa1 ,,viii4 figs4 #h1 #i1 #ab1 #ac1 #ae1 ,,ix4 ,,xi4 fig4 #a1 and ,plate ,,iii4 ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,,mark1 ,,square ,,of ,,st4 7,piazza di ,san ,marco71 anciently a garden1 ,,ii4 #eh2 general effect of1 ,,ii4 #ff1 #aaf2 plan of1 ,,ii4 #bhb4 ,,martino1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,mater ,,domini1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,,maria4 ,it contains two important pictures3 one over the second altar on the right1 ,st4 ,christina1 by ,vincenzo ,catena1 a very lovely example of the ,venetian religious school2 and1 over the north transept door1 the ,finding of the ,cross1 by ,tintoret1 a carefully painted and attractive picture1 but by no means a good specimen of the master1 as far as regards power of conception4 ,he does not seem to have entered into his subject4 ,there is no wonder1 no rapture1 no entire devotion in any of the figures4 ,they are only interested and pleased in a mild way2 and the kneeling woman who hands the nails to a man stooping forward to receive them on the right hand1 does so with the air of a person saying1 ,you had better take care of them2 they may be wanted another time4 ,this general coldness in expression is much increased by the presence of several figures on the right and left1 introduced for the sake of portraiture merely2 and the reality1 as well as the feeling1 of the scene is destroyed by our seeing one of the youngest and weakest of the women with a huge cross lying across her knees1 the whole weight of it resting upon her4 ,as might have been expected1 where the conception is so languid1 the execution is little delighted in2 it is throughout steady and powerful1 but in no place affectionate1 and in no place impetuous4 ,if ,tintoret had always painted in this way1 he would have sunk into a mere mechanist4 ,it is1 however1 a genuine and tolerably well preserved specimen1 and its female figures are exceedingly graceful2 that of ,st4 ,helena very queenly1 though by no means agreeable in feature4 ,among the male portraits on the left there is one different from the usual types which occur either in ,venetian paintings or ,venetian populace2 it is carefully painted1 and more like a ,scotch ,presbyterian minister1 than a ,greek4 ,the background is chiefly composed of architecture1 white1 remarkably uninteresting in color1 and still more so in form4 ,this is to be noticed as one of the unfortunate results of the ,renaissance teaching at this period4 ,had ,tintoret backed his ,empress ,helena with ,byzantine architecture1 the picture might have been one of the most gorgeous he ever painted4 ,,mater ,,domini1 ,,campo ,,di ,,sta4 ,,maria1 ,,ii4 #bfa4 ,a most interesting little piazza1 surrounded by early ,gothic houses1 once of singular beauty2 the arcade at its extremity1 of fourth order windows1 drawn in my folio work1 is one of the earliest and loveliest of its kind in ,venice2 and in the houses at the side is a group of second order windows with their intermediate crosses1 all complete1 and well worth careful examination4 ,,michele ,,in ,,isola1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,on the island between ,venice and ,murano4 ,the little ,cappella ,emiliana at the side of it has been much admired1 but it would be difficult to find a building more feelingless or ridiculous4 ,it is more like a ,german summer-house1 or angle turret1 than a chapel1 and may be briefly described as a bee-hive set on a low hexagonal tower1 with dashes of stone-work about its windows like the flourishes of an idle penman4 ,the cloister of this church is pretty2 and the attached cemetery is worth entering1 for the sake of feeling the strangeness of the quiet sleeping ground in the midst of the sea4 ,,michiel ,,dalle ,,colonne1 ,,palazzo4 ,of no importance4 ,,minelli1 ,,palazzo4 ,in the ,corte del ,maltese1 at ,st4 ,paternian4 ,it has a spiral external staircase1 very picturesque1 but of the fifteenth century and without merit4 ,,miracoli1 ,,church ,,of ,,sta4 ,,maria ,,dei4 ,the most interesting and finished example in ,venice of the ,byzantine ,renaissance1 and one of the most important in ,italy of the cinque-cento style4 ,all its sculptures should be examined with great care1 as the best possible examples of a bad style4 ,observe1 for instance1 that in spite of the beautiful work on the square pillars which support the gallery at the west end1 they have no more architectural effect than two wooden posts4 ,the same kind of failure in boldness of purpose exists throughout2 and the building is1 in fact1 rather a small museum of unmeaning1 though refined sculpture1 than a piece of architecture4 ,its grotesques are admirable examples of the base ,raphaelesque design examined above1 ,,iii4 #acf4 ,note especially the children's heads tied up by the hair1 in the lateral sculptures at the top of the altar steps4 ,a rude workman1 who could hardly have carved the head at all1 might have allowed this or any other mode of expressing discontent with his own doings2 but the man who could carve a child's head so perfectly must have been wanting in all human feeling1 to cut it off1 and tie it by the hair to a vine leaf4 ,observe1 in the ,ducal ,palace1 though far ruder in skill1 the heads always emerge from the leaves1 they are never tied to them4 ,,misericordia1 ,,church ,,of4 ,the church itself is nothing1 and contains nothing worth the traveller's time2 but the ,albergo de' ,confratelli della ,misericordia at its side is a very interesting and beautiful relic of the ,gothic ,renaissance4 ,lazari says1 del secolo xiv42 but ,i believe it to be later4 ,its traceries are very curious and rich1 and the sculpture of its capitals very fine for the late time4 ,close to it1 on the right-hand side of the canal which is crossed by the wooden bridge1 is one of the richest ,gothic doors in ,venice1 remarkable for the appearance of antiquity in the general design and stiffness of its figures1 though it bears its date #aeje4 ,its extravagant crockets are almost the only features which1 but for this written date1 would at first have confessed its lateness2 but1 on examination1 the figures will be found as bad and spiritless as they are apparently archaic1 and completely exhibiting the ,renaissance palsy of imagination4 ,the general effect is1 however1 excellent1 the whole arrangement having been borrowed from earlier work4 ,the action of the statue of the ,madonna1 who extends her robe to shelter a group of diminutive figures1 representative of the ,society for whose house the sculpture was executed1 may be also seen in most of the later ,venetian figures of the ,virgin which occupy similar situations4 ,the image of ,christ is placed in a medallion on her breast1 thus fully1 though conventionally1 expressing the idea of self-support which is so often partially indicated by the great religious painters in their representations of the infant ,jesus4 ,,mois1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 ,,iii4 #abd4 ,notable as one of the basest examples of the basest school of the ,renaissance4 ,it contains one important picture1 namely ,christ washing the ,disciples' ,feet1 by ,tintoret2 on the left side of the chapel1 north of the choir4 ,this picture has been originally dark1 is now much faded--in parts1 ,i believe1 altogether destroyed--and is hung in the worst light of a chapel1 where1 on a sunny day at noon1 one could not easily read without a candle4 ,i cannot1 therefore1 give much information respecting it2 but it is certainly one of the least successful of the painter's works1 and both careless and unsatisfactory in its composition as well as its color4 ,one circumstance is noticeable1 as in a considerable degree detracting from the interest of most of ,tintoret's representations of our ,saviour with his disciples4 ,he never loses sight of the fact that all were poor1 and the latter ignorant2 and while he never paints a senator1 or a saint once thoroughly canonized1 except as a gentleman1 he is very careful to paint the ,apostles1 in their living intercourse with the ,saviour1 in such a manner that the spectator may see in an instant1 as the ,pharisee did of old1 that they were unlearned and ignorant men2 and1 whenever we find them in a room1 it is always such a one as would be inhabited by the lower classes4 ,there seems some violation of this practice in the dais1 or flight of steps1 at the top of which the ,saviour is placed in the present picture2 but we are quickly reminded that the guests' chamber or upper room ready prepared was not likely to have been in a palace1 by the humble furniture upon the floor1 consisting of a tub with a copper saucepan in it1 a coffee-pot1 and a pair of bellows1 curiously associated with a symbolic cup with a wafer1 which1 however1 is in an injured part of the canvas1 and may have been added by the priests4 ,i am totally unable to state what the background of the picture is or has been2 and the only point farther to be noted about it is the solemnity1 which1 in spite of the familiar and homely circumstances above noticed1 the painter has given to the scene1 by placing the ,saviour1 in the act of washing the feet of ,peter1 at the top of a circle of steps1 on which the other ,apostles kneel in adoration and astonishment4 ,,moro1 ,,palazzo4 ,see ,,othello4 ,,morosini1 ,,palazzo1 near the ,ponte dell' ,ospedaletto1 at ,san ,giovannie ,paolo4 ,outside it is not interesting1 though the gateway shows remains of brickwork of the thirteenth century4 ,its interior court is singularly beautiful2 the staircase of early fourteenth century ,gothic has originally been superb1 and the window in the angle above is the most perfect that ,i know in ,venice of the kind2 the lightly sculptured coronet is exquisitely introduced at the top of its spiral shaft4 ,this palace still belongs to the ,morosini family1 to whose present representative1 the ,count ,carlo ,morosini1 the reader is indebted for the note on the character of his ancestors1 above1 ,,iii4 #bac4 ,,morosini1 ,,palazzo1 at ,st4 ,stefano4 ,of no importance4 ,n ,,nani-,,mocenigo1 ,,palazzo4 7,now ,hotel ,danieli47 ,a glorious example of the central ,gothic1 nearly contemporary with the finest part of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,though less impressive in effect than the ,casa ,foscari or ,casa ,bernardo1 it is of purer architecture than either3 and quite unique in the delicacy of the form of the cusps in the central group of windows1 which are shaped like broad scimitars1 the upper foil of the windows being very small4 ,if the traveller will compare these windows with the neighboring traceries of the ,ducal ,palace1 he will easily perceive the peculiarity4 ,,nicolo ,,del ,,lido1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,nome ,,di ,,gesu1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,of no importance4 ,o ,,orfani1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,of no importance4 ,,orto1 ,,church ,,of ,,sta4 ,,maria1 ,,dell'4 ,an interesting example of ,renaissance ,gothic1 the traceries of the windows being very rich and quaint4 ,it contains four most important ,tintorets3 ,the ,last ,judgment1 ,the ,worship of the ,golden ,calf1 ,the ,presentation of the ,virgin1 and ,martyrdom of ,st4 ,agnes4 ,the first two are among his largest and mightiest works1 but grievously injured by damp and neglect2 and unless the traveller is accustomed to decipher the thoughts in a picture patiently1 he need not hope to derive any pleasure from them4 ,but no pictures will better reward a resolute study4 ,the following account of the ,last ,judgment1 given in the second volume of ,modern ,painters1 will be useful in enabling the traveller to enter into the meaning of the picture1 but its real power is only to be felt by patient examination of it4 ,by ,tintoret only has this unimaginable event 7the ,last ,judgment7 been grappled with in its ,verity2 not typically nor symbolically1 but as they may see it who shall not sleep1 but be changed4 ,only one traditional circumstance he has received1 with ,dante and ,michael ,angelo1 the ,boat of the ,condemned2 but the impetuosity of his mind bursts out even in the adoption of this image2 he has not stopped at the scowling ferryman of the one1 nor at the sweeping blow and demon dragging of the other1 but1 seized ,hylas like by the limbs1 and tearing up the earth in his agony1 the victim is dashed into his destruction2 nor is it the sluggish ,lethe1 nor the fiery lake1 that bears the cursed vessel1 but the oceans of the earth and the waters of the firmament gathered into one white1 ghastly cataract2 the river of the wrath of ,god1 roaring down into the gulf where the world has melted with its fervent heat1 choked with the ruins of nations1 and the limbs of its corpses tossed out of its whirling1 like water-wheels4 ,bat-like1 out of the holes and caverns and shadows of the earth1 the bones gather1 and the clay heaps heave1 rattling and adhering into half-kneaded anatomies1 that crawl1 and startle1 and struggle up among the putrid weeds1 with the clay clinging to their clotted hair1 and their heavy eyes sealed by the earth darkness yet1 like his of old who went his way unseeing to the ,siloam ,pool2 shaking off one by one the dreams of the prison-house1 hardly hearing the clangor of the trumpets of the armies of ,god1 blinded yet more1 as they awake1 by the white light of the new ,heaven1 until the great vortex of the four winds bears up their bodies to the judgment seat2 the ,firmament is all full of them1 a very dust of human souls1 that drifts1 and floats1 and falls into the interminable1 inevitable light2 the bright clouds are darkened with them as with thick snow1 currents of atom life in the arteries of heaven1 now soaring up slowly1 and higher and higher still1 till the eye and the thought can follow no farther1 borne up1 wingless1 by their inward faith and by the angel powers invisible1 now hurled in countless drifts of horror before the breath of their condemnation4 ,note in the opposite picture the way the clouds are wrapped about in the distant ,sinai4 ,the figure of the little ,madonna in the ,presentation should be compared with ,titian's in his picture of the same subject in the ,academy4 ,i prefer ,tintoret's infinitely3 and note how much finer is the feeling with which ,tintoret has relieved the glory round her head against the pure sky1 than that which influenced ,titian in encumbering his distance with architecture4 ,the ,martyrdom of ,st4 ,agnes was a lovely picture4 ,it has been restored since ,i saw it4 ,,ospedaletto1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,the most monstrous example of the ,grotesque ,renaissance which there is in ,venice2 the sculptures on its faade representing masses of diseased figures and swollen fruit4 ,it is almost worth devoting an hour to the successive examination of five buildings1 as illustrative of the last degradation of the ,renaissance4 ,san ,mois is the most clumsy1 ,santa ,maria ,zobenigo the most impious1 ,st4 ,eustachio the most ridiculous1 the ,ospedaletto the most monstrous1 and the head at ,santa ,maria ,formosa the most foul4 ,,othello1 ,,house ,,of1 at the ,carmini4 ,the researches of ,mr4 ,brown into the origin of the play of ,othello have1 ,i think1 determined that ,shakspeare wrote on definite historical grounds2 and that ,othello may be in many points identified with ,christopher ,moro1 the lieutenant of the republic at ,cyprus1 in #aejh4 ,see ,ragguagli su ,maria ,sanuto1 i4 #beb4 ,his palace was standing till very lately1 a ,gothic building of the fourteenth century1 of which ,mr4 ,brown possesses a drawing4 ,it is now destroyed1 and a modern square-windowed house built on its site4 ,a statue1 said to be a portrait of ,moro1 but a most paltry work1 is set in a niche in the modern wall4 ,p ,,pantaleone1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a ,paul ,veronese2 otherwise of no importance4 ,,paternian1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,its little leaning tower forms an interesting object as the traveller sees it from the narrow canal which passes beneath the ,porte ,san ,paternian4 ,the two arched lights of the belfry appear of very early workmanship1 probably of the beginning of the thirteenth century4 ,,pesaro ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,the most powerful and impressive in effect of all the palaces of the ,grotesque ,renaissance4 ,the heads upon its foundation are very characteristic of the period1 but there is more genius in them than usual4 ,some of the mingled expressions of faces and grinning casques are very clever4 ,,piazzetta1 pillars of1 see ,final ,appendix under head ,capital4 ,the two magnificent blocks of marble brought from ,st4 ,jean d',acre1 which form one of the principal ornaments of the ,piazzetta1 are ,greek sculpture of the sixth century1 and will be described in my folio work4 ,,pieta1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,of no importance4 ,,pietro1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 at ,murano4 ,its pictures1 once valuable1 are now hardly worth examination1 having been spoiled by neglect4 ,,pietro1 ,,di ,,castello1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 ,i4 #g1 #cfa4 ,it is said to contain a ,paul ,veronese1 and ,i suppose the so-called ,chair of ,st4 ,peter must be worth examining4 ,,pisani1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,the latest ,venetian ,gothic1 just passing into ,renaissance4 ,the capitals of the first floor windows are1 however1 singularly spirited and graceful1 very daringly under-cut1 and worth careful examination4 ,the ,paul ,veronese1 once the glory of this palace1 is1 ,i believe1 not likely to remain in ,venice4 ,the other picture in the same room1 the ,death of ,darius1 is of no value4 ,,pisani1 ,,palazzo1 at ,st4 ,stefano4 ,late ,renaissance1 and of no merit1 but grand in its colossal proportions1 especially when seen from the narrow canal at its side1 which terminated by the apse of the ,church of ,san ,stefano1 is one of the most picturesque and impressive little pieces of water scenery in ,venice4 ,,polo1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance1 except as an example of the advantages accruing from restoration4 ,m4 ,lazari says of it1 ,before this church was modernized1 its principal chapel was adorned with ,mosaics1 and possessed a pala of silver gilt1 of ,byzantine workmanship1 which is now lost4 ,,polo1 ,,square ,,of ,,st4 7,campo ,san ,polo47 ,a large and important square1 rendered interesting chiefly by three palaces on the side of it opposite the church1 of central ,gothic 7#acfj71 and fine of their time1 though small4 ,one of their capitals has been given in ,plate ,,ii4 of this volume1 fig4 #ab4 ,they are remarkable as being decorated with sculptures of the ,gothic time1 in imitation of ,byzantine ones2 the period being marked by the dog-tooth and cable being used instead of the dentil round the circles4 ,,polo1 ,,palazzo1 at ,san ,g4 ,grisostomo 7the house of ,marco ,polo71 ,,ii4 #aci4 ,its interior court is full of interest1 showing fragments of the old building in every direction1 cornices1 windows1 and doors1 of almost every period1 mingled among modern rebuilding and restoration of all degrees of dignity4 ,,porta ,,della ,,carta1 ,,ii4 #cjb4 ,,priuli1 ,,palazzo4 ,a most important and beautiful early ,gothic ,palace1 at ,san ,severo2 the main entrance is from the ,fundamento ,san ,severo1 but the principal faade is on the other side1 towards the canal4 ,the entrance has been grievously defaced1 having had winged lions filling the spandrils of its pointed arch1 of which only feeble traces are now left1 the faade has very early fourth order windows in the lower story1 and above1 the beautiful range of fifth order windows drawn at the bottom of ,plate ,,xviii4 ,vol4 ,,ii41 where the heads of the fourth order range are also seen 7note their inequality1 the larger one at the flank74 ,this ,palace has two most interesting traceried angle windows also1 which1 however1 ,i believe are later than those on the faade2 and finally1 a rich and bold interior staircase4 ,,procuratie ,,nuove1 see ,,libreria ,,vecchia3 ,a graceful series buildings1 of late fifteenth century design1 forming the northern side of ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 but of no particular interest4 ,q ,,querini1 ,,palazzo1 now the ,beccherie1 ,,ii4 #bee1 ,,iii4 #bcd4 ,r ,,raffaelle1 ,,chiesa ,,dell',,angelo4 ,said to contain a ,bonifazio1 otherwise of no importance4 ,,redentore1 ,,church ,,of ,,the1 ,,ii4 #cgh4 ,it contains three interesting ,john ,bellinis1 and also1 in the sacristy1 a most beautiful ,paul ,veronese4 ,,remer1 ,,corte ,,del1 house in4 ,,ii4 #bea4 ,,rezzonico1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of the ,grotesque ,renaissance time1 but less extravagant than usual4 ,,rialto1 ,,bridge ,,of ,,the4 ,the best building raised in the time of the ,grotesque ,renaissance2 very noble in its simplicity1 in its proportions1 and in its masonry4 ,note especially the grand way in which the oblique archstones rest on the butments of the bridge1 safe1 palpably both to the sense and eye3 note also the sculpture of the ,annunciation on the southern side of it2 how beautifully arranged1 so as to give more lightness and a grace to the arch--the dove1 flying towards the ,madonna1 forming the keystone1--and thus the whole action of the figures being parallel to the curve of the arch1 while all the masonry is at right angles to it4 ,note1 finally1 one circumstance which gives peculiar firmness to the figure of the angel1 and associates itself with the general expression of strength in the whole building2 namely that the sole of the advanced foot is set perfectly level1 as if placed on the ground1 instead of being thrown back behind like a heron's1 as in most modern figures of this kind4 ,the sculptures themselves are not good2 but these pieces of feeling in them are very admirable4 ,the two figures on the other side1 ,st4 ,mark and ,st4 ,theodore1 are inferior1 though all by the same sculptor1 ,girolamo ,campagna4 ,the bridge was built by ,antonio da ,ponte1 in #aehh4 ,it was anciently of wood1 with a drawbridge in the centre1 a representation of which may be seen in one of ,carpaccio's pictures at the ,accademia delle ,belle ,arti3 and the traveller should observe that the interesting effect1 both of this and the ,bridge of ,sighs1 depends in great part on their both being more than bridges2 the one a covered passage1 the other a row of shops1 sustained on an arch4 ,no such effect can be produced merely by the masonry of the roadway itself4 ,,rio ,,del ,,palazzo1 ,,ii4 #bhb4 ,,rocco1 ,,campiello ,,di ,,san1 windows in1 ,,ii4 #beh4 ,,rocco1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,notable only for the most interesting pictures by ,tintoret which it contains1 namely3 #a4 ,san ,rocco before the ,pope4 7,on the left of the door as we enter47 ,a delightful picture in his best manner1 but not much labored2 and1 like several other pictures in this church1 it seems to me to have been executed at some period of the painter's life when he was either in ill health1 or else had got into a mechanical way of painting1 from having made too little reference to nature for a long time4 ,there is something stiff and forced in the white draperies on both sides1 and a general character about the whole which ,i can feel better than ,i can describe2 but which1 if ,i had been the painter's physician1 would have immediately caused me to order him to shut up his painting-room1 and take a voyage to the ,levant1 and back again4 ,the figure of the ,pope is1 however1 extremely beautiful1 and is not unworthy1 in its jewelled magnificence1 here dark against the sky1 of comparison with the figure of the high priest in the ,presentation1 in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco4 #b4 ,annunciation4 7,on the other side of the door1 on entering47 ,a most disagreeable and dead picture1 having all the faults of the age1 and none of the merits of the painter4 ,it must be a matter of future investigation to me1 what could cause the fall of his mind from a conception so great and so fiery as that of the ,annunciation in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco1 to this miserable reprint of an idea worn out centuries before4 ,one of the most inconceivable things in it1 considered as the work of ,tintoret1 is that where the angel's robe drifts away behind his limb1 one cannot tell by the character of the outline1 or by the tones of the color1 whether the cloud comes in before the robe1 or whether the robe cuts upon the cloud4 ,the ,virgin is uglier than that of the ,scuola1 and not half so real2 and the draperies are crumpled in the most commonplace and ignoble folds4 ,it is a picture well worth study1 as an example of the extent to which the greatest mind may be betrayed by the abuse of its powers1 and the neglect of its proper food in the study of nature4 #c4 ,pool of ,bethesda4 7,on the right side of the church1 in its centre1 the lowest of the two pictures which occupy the wall47 ,a noble work1 but eminently disagreeable1 as must be all pictures of this subject2 and with the same character in it of undefinable want1 which ,i have noticed in the two preceding works4 ,the main figure in it is the cripple1 who has taken up his bed2 but the whole effect of this action is lost by his not turning to ,christ1 but flinging it on his shoulder like a triumphant porter with a huge load2 and the corrupt ,renaissance architecture1 among which the figures are crowded1 is both ugly in itself1 and much too small for them4 ,it is worth noticing1 for the benefit of persons who find fault with the perspective of the ,pre-,raphaelites1 that the perspective of the brackets beneath these pillars is utterly absurd2 and that1 in fine1 the presence or absence of perspective has nothing to do with the merits of a great picture3 not that the perspective of the ,pre-,raphaelites is false in any case that ,i have examined1 the objection being just as untenable as it is ridiculous4 #d4 ,san ,rocco in the ,desert4 7,above the last-named picture47 ,a single recumbent figure in a not very interesting landscape1 deserving less attention than a picture of ,st4 ,martin just opposite to it1--a noble and knightly figure on horseback by ,pordenone1 to which ,i cannot pay a greater compliment than by saying that ,i was a considerable time in doubt whether or not it was another ,tintoret4 #e4 ,san ,rocco in the ,hospital4 7,on the right-hand side of the altar47 ,there are four vast pictures by ,tintoret in the dark choir of this church1 not only important by their size 7each being some twenty-five feet long by ten feet high71 but also elaborate compositions2 and remarkable1 one for its extraordinary landscape1 and the other as the most studied picture in which the painter has introduced horses in violent action4 ,in order to show what waste of human mind there is in these dark churches of ,venice1 it is worth recording that1 as ,i was examining these pictures1 there came in a party of eighteen ,german tourists1 not hurried1 nor jesting among themselves as large parties often do1 but patiently submitting to their cicerone1 and evidently desirous of doing their duty as intelligent travellers4 ,they sat down for a long time on the benches of the nave1 looked a little at the ,pool of ,bethesda1 walked up into the choir and there heard a lecture of considerable length from their valet-de-place upon some subject connected with the altar itself1 which1 being in ,german1 ,i did not understand2 they then turned and went slowly out of the church1 not one of the whole eighteen ever giving a single glance to any of the four ,tintorets1 and only one of them1 as far as ,i saw1 even raising his eyes to the walls on which they hung1 and immediately withdrawing them1 with a jaded and nonchalant expression easily interpretable into ,nothing but old black pictures4 ,the two ,tintorets above noticed1 at the end of the church1 were passed also without a glance2 and this neglect is not because the pictures have nothing in them capable of arresting the popular mind1 but simply because they are totally in the dark1 or confused among easier and more prominent objects of attention4 ,this picture1 which ,i have called ,st4 ,rocco in the ,hospital1 shows him1 ,i suppose1 in his general ministrations at such places1 and is one of the usual representations of a disgusting subject from which neither ,orcagna nor ,tintoret seems ever to have shrunk4 ,it is a very noble picture1 carefully composed and highly wrought2 but to me gives no pleasure1 first1 on account of its subject1 secondly1 on account of its dull brown tone all over1--it being impossible1 or nearly so1 in such a scene1 and at all events inconsistent with its feeling1 to introduce vivid color of any kind4 ,so it is a brown study of diseased limbs in a close room4 #f4 ,cattle ,piece4 7,above the picture last described47 ,i can give no other name to this picture1 whose subject ,i can neither guess nor discover1 the picture being in the dark1 and the guide-books leaving me in the same position4 ,all ,i can make out of it is1 that there is a noble landscape with cattle and figures4 ,it seems to me the best landscape of ,tintoret's in ,venice1 except the ,flight into ,egypt2 and is even still more interesting from its savage character1 the principal trees being pines1 something like ,titian's in his ,st4 ,francis receiving the ,stigmata1 and chestnuts on the slopes and in the hollows of the hills2 the animals also seem first-rate4 ,but it is too high1 too much faded1 and too much in the dark to be made out4 ,it seems never to have been rich in color1 rather cool and grey1 and very full of light4 #g4 ,finding of ,body of ,san ,rocco4 7,on the left-hand side of the altar47 ,an elaborate1 but somewhat confused picture1 with a flying angel in a blue drapery2 but it seemed to me altogether uninteresting1 or perhaps requiring more study than ,i was able to give it4 #h4 ,san ,rocco in ,campo d' ,armata4 ,so this picture is called by the sacristan4 ,i could see no ,san ,rocco in it2 nothing but a wild group of horses and warriors in the most magnificent confusion of fall and flight ever painted by man4 ,they seem all dashed different ways as if by a whirlwind2 and a whirlwind there must be1 or a thunderbolt1 behind them1 for a huge tree is torn up and hurled into the air beyond the central figure1 as if it were a shivered lance4 ,two of the horses meet in the midst1 as if in a tournament2 but in madness of fear1 not in hostility2 on the horse to the right is a standard-bearer1 who stoops as from some foe behind him1 with the lance laid across his saddle-bow1 level1 and the flag stretched out behind him as he flies1 like the sail of a ship drifting from its mast2 the central horseman1 who meets the shock1 of storm1 or enemy1 whatever it be1 is hurled backwards from his seat1 like a stone from a sling2 and this figure with the shattered tree trunk behind it1 is the most noble part of the picture4 ,there is another grand horse on the right1 however1 also in full action4 ,two gigantic figures on foot1 on the left1 meant to be nearer than the others1 would1 it seems to me1 have injured the picture1 had they been clearly visible2 but time has reduced them to perfect subordination4 ,,rocco1 ,,scuola ,,di ,,san1 bases of1 ,i4 #bia1 #dca2 soffit ornaments of1 ,i4 #ccg4 ,an interesting building of the early ,renaissance 7#aeag71 passing into ,roman ,renaissance4 ,the wreaths of leafage about its shafts are wonderfully delicate and fine1 though misplaced4 ,as regards the pictures which it contains1 it is one of the three most precious buildings in ,italy2 buildings1 ,i mean1 consistently decorated with a series of paintings at the time of their erection1 and still exhibiting that series in its original order4 ,i suppose there can be little question1 but that the three most important edifices of this kind in ,italy are the ,sistine ,chapel1 the ,campo ,santo of ,pisa1 and the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco at ,venice3 the first is painted by ,michael ,angelo2 the second by ,orcagna1 ,benozzo ,gozzoli1 ,pietro ,laurati1 and several other men whose works are as rare as they are precious2 and the third by ,tintoret4 ,whatever the traveller may miss in ,venice1 he should therefore give unembarrassed attention and unbroken time to the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco2 and ,i shall1 accordingly1 number the pictures1 and note in them1 one by one1 what seemed to me most worthy of observation4 ,there are sixty-two in all1 but eight of these are merely of children or children's heads1 and two of unimportant figures4 ,the number of valuable pictures is fifty-two2 arranged on the walls and ceilings of three rooms1 so badly lighted1 in consequence of the admirable arrangements of the ,renaissance architect1 that it is only in the early morning that some of the pictures can be seen at all1 nor can they ever be seen but imperfectly4 ,they were all painted1 however1 for their places in the dark1 and1 as compared with ,tintoret's other works1 are therefore1 for the most part1 nothing more than vast sketches1 made to produce1 under a certain degree of shadow1 the effect of finished pictures4 ,their treatment is thus to be considered as a kind of scene-painting2 differing from ordinary scene-painting only in this1 that the effect aimed at is not that of a natural scene but a perfect picture4 ,they differ in this respect from all other existing works2 for there is not1 as far as ,i know1 any other instance in which a great master has consented to work for a room plunged into almost total obscurity4 ,it is probable that none but ,tintoret would have undertaken the task1 and most fortunate that he was forced to it4 ,for in this magnificent scene-painting we have1 of course1 more wonderful examples1 both of his handling1 and knowledge of effect1 than could ever have been exhibited in finished pictures2 while the necessity of doing much with few strokes keeps his mind so completely on the stretch throughout the work 7while yet the velocity of production prevented his being wearied71 that no other series of his works exhibits powers so exalted4 ,on the other hand1 owing to the velocity and coarseness of the painting1 it is more liable to injury through drought or damp2 and1 as the walls have been for years continually running down with rain1 and what little sun gets into the place contrives to fall all day right on one or other of the pictures1 they are nothing but wrecks of what they were2 and the ruins of paintings originally coarse are not likely ever to be attractive to the public mind4 ,twenty or thirty years ago they were taken down to be retouched2 but the man to whom the task was committed providentially died1 and only one of them was spoiled4 ,i have found traces of his work upon another1 but not to an extent very seriously destructive4 ,the rest of the sixty-two1 or1 at any rate1 all that are in the upper room1 appear entirely intact4 ,although1 as compared with his other works1 they are all very scenic in execution1 there are great differences in their degrees of finish2 and1 curiously enough1 some on the ceilings and others in the darkest places in the lower room are very nearly finished pictures1 while the ,agony in the ,garden1 which is in one of the best lights in the upper room1 appears to have been painted in a couple of hours with a broom for a brush4 ,for the traveller's greater convenience1 ,i shall give a rude plan of the arrangement1 and list of the subjects1 of each group of pictures before examining them in detail4 ,first ,group4 ,on the walls of the room on the ground floor4 ,illustration3 #a4 ,annunciation4 #e4 ,the ,magdalen4 #b4 ,adoration of ,magi4 #f4 ,st4 ,mary of ,egypt4 #c4 ,flight into ,egypt4 #g4 ,circumcision4 #d4 ,massacre of ,innocents4 #h4 ,assumption of ,virgin4 ,at the turn of the stairs leading to the upper room3 #i4 ,visitation4 #a4 ,the ,annunciation4 ,this1 which first strikes the eye1 is a very just representative of the whole group1 the execution being carried to the utmost limits of boldness consistent with completion4 ,it is a well-known picture1 and need not therefore be specially described1 but one or two points in it require notice4 ,the face of the ,virgin is very disagreeable to the spectator from below1 giving the idea of a woman about thirty1 who had never been handsome4 ,if the face is untouched1 it is the only instance ,i have ever seen of ,tintoret's failing in an intended effect1 for1 when seen near1 the face is comely and youthful1 and expresses only surprise1 instead of the pain and fear of which it bears the aspect in the distance4 ,i could not get near enough to see whether it had been retouched4 ,it looks like ,tintoret's work1 though rather hard2 but1 as there are unquestionable marks in the retouching of this picture1 it is possible that some slight restoration of lines supposed to be faded1 entirely alter the distant expression of the face4 ,one of the evident pieces of repainting is the scarlet of the ,madonna's lap1 which is heavy and lifeless4 ,a far more injurious one is the strip of sky seen through the doorway by which the angel enters1 which has originally been of the deep golden color of the distance on the left1 and which the blundering restorer has daubed over with whitish blue1 so that it looks like a bit of the wall2 luckily he has not touched the outlines of the angel's black wings1 on which the whole expression of the picture depends4 ,this angel and the group of small cherubs above form a great swinging chain1 of which the dove representing the ,holy ,spirit forms the bend4 ,the angels in their flight seem to be attached to this as the train of fire is to a rocket2 all of them appearing to have swooped down with the swiftness of a falling star4 #b4 ,adoration of the ,magi4 ,the most finished picture in the ,scuola1 except the ,crucifixion1 and perhaps the most delightful of the whole4 ,it unites every source of pleasure that a picture can possess3 the highest elevation of principal subject1 mixed with the lowest detail of picturesque incident2 the dignity of the highest ranks of men1 opposed to the simplicity of the lowest2 the quietness and serenity of an incident in cottage life1 contrasted with the turbulence of troops of horsemen and the spiritual power of angels4 ,the placing of the two doves as principal points of light in the front of the picture1 in order to remind the spectator of the poverty of the mother whose child is receiving the offerings and adoration of three monarchs1 is one of ,tintoret's master touches2 the whole scene1 indeed1 is conceived in his happiest manner4 ,nothing can be at once more humble or more dignified than the bearing of the kings2 and there is a sweet reality given to the whole incident by the ,madonna's stooping forward and lifting her hand in admiration of the vase of gold which has been set before the ,christ1 though she does so with such gentleness and quietness that her dignity is not in the least injured by the simplicity of the action4 ,as if to illustrate the means by which the ,wise men were brought from the ,east1 the whole picture is nothing but a large star1 of which ,christ is the centre2 all the figures1 even the timbers of the roof1 radiate from the small bright figure on which the countenances of the flying angels are bent1 the star itself1 gleaming through the timbers above1 being quite subordinate4 ,the composition would almost be too artificial were it not broken by the luminous distance where the troop of horsemen are waiting for the kings4 ,these1 with a dog running at full speed1 at once interrupt the symmetry of the lines1 and form a point of relief from the over concentration of all the rest of the action4 #c4 ,flight into ,egypt4 ,one of the principal figures here is the donkey4 ,i have never seen any of the nobler animals--lion1 or leopard1 or horse1 or dragon--made so sublime as this quiet head of the domestic ass1 chiefly owing to the grand motion in the nostril and writhing in the ears4 ,the space of the picture is chiefly occupied by lovely landscape1 and the ,madonna and ,st4 ,joseph are pacing their way along a shady path upon the banks of a river at the side of the picture4 ,i had not any conception1 until ,i got near1 how much pains had been taken with the ,virgin's head2 its expression is as sweet and as intense as that of any of ,raffaelle's1 its reality far greater4 ,the painter seems to have intended that everything should be subordinate to the beauty of this single head2 and the work is a wonderful proof of the way in which a vast field of canvas may be made conducive to the interest of a single figure4 ,this is partly accomplished by slightness of painting1 so that on close examination1 while there is everything to astonish in the masterly handling and purpose1 there is not much perfect or very delightful painting2 in fact1 the two figures are treated like the living figures in a scene at the theatre1 and finished to perfection1 while the landscape is painted as hastily as the scenes1 and with the same kind of opaque size color4 ,it has1 however1 suffered as much as any of the series1 and it is hardly fair to judge of its tones and colors in its present state4 #d4 ,massacre of the ,innocents4 ,the following account of this picture1 given in ,modern ,painters1 may be useful to the traveller1 and is therefore here repeated4 ,i have before alluded to the painfulness of ,raffaelle's treatment of the ,massacre of the ,innocents4 ,fuseli affirms of it1 that1 'in dramatic gradation he disclosed all the mother through every image of pity and terror4' ,if this be so1 ,i think the philosophical spirit has prevailed over the imaginative4 ,the imagination never errs2 it sees all that is1 and all the relations and bearings of it2 but it would not have confused the mortal frenzy of maternal terror1 with various development of maternal character4 ,fear1 rage1 and agony1 at their utmost pitch1 sweep away all character3 humanity itself would be lost in maternity1 the woman would become the mere personification of animal fury or fear4 ,for this reason all the ordinary representations of this subject are1 ,i think1 false and cold3 the artist has not heard the shrieks1 nor mingled with the fugitives2 he has sat down in his study to convulse features methodically1 and philosophize over insanity4 ,not so ,tintoret4 ,knowing1 or feeling1 that the expression of the human face was1 in such circumstances1 not to be rendered1 and that the effort could only end in an ugly falsehood1 he denies himself all aid from the features1 he feels that if he is to place himself or us in the midst of that maddened multitude1 there can be no time allowed for watching expression4 ,still less does he depend on details of murder or ghastliness of death2 there is no blood1 no stabbing or cutting1 but there is an awful substitute for these in the chiaroscuro4 ,the scene is the outer vestibule of a palace1 the slippery marble floor is fearfully barred across by sanguine shadows1 so that our eyes seem to become bloodshot and strained with strange horror and deadly vision2 a lake of life before them1 like the burning seen of the doomed ,moabite on the water that came by the way of ,edom3 a huge flight of stairs1 without parapet1 descends on the left2 down this rush a crowd of women mixed with the murderers2 the child in the arms of one has been seized by the limbs1 she hurls herself over the edge1 and falls head downmost1 dragging the child out of the grasp by her weight2--she will be dashed dead in a second3--close to us is the great struggle2 a heap of the mothers1 entangled in one mortal writhe with each other and the swords2 one of the murderers dashed down and crushed beneath them1 the sword of another caught by the blade and dragged at by a woman's naked hand2 the youngest and fairest of the women1 her child just torn away from a death grasp1 and clasped to her breast with the grip of a steel vice1 falls backwards1 helpless over the heap1 right on the sword points2 all knit together and hurled down in one hopeless1 frenzied1 furious abandonment of body and soul in the effort to save4 ,far back1 at the bottom of the stairs1 there is something in the shadow like a heap of clothes4 ,it is a woman1 sitting quiet1--quite quiet1--still as any stone2 she looks down steadfastly on her dead child1 laid along on the floor before her1 and her hand is pressed softly upon her brow4 ,i have nothing to add to the above description of this picture1 except that ,i believe there may have been some change in the color of the shadow that crosses the pavement4 ,the chequers of the pavements are1 in the light1 golden white and pale grey2 in the shadow1 red and dark grey1 the white in the sunshine becoming red in the shadow4 ,i formerly supposed that this was meant to give greater horror to the scene1 and it is very like ,tintoret if it be so2 but there is a strangeness and discordance in it which makes me suspect the colors may have changed4 #e4 ,the ,magdalen4 ,this and the picture opposite to it1 ,st4 ,mary of ,egypt1 have been painted to fill up narrow spaces between the windows which were not large enough to receive compositions1 and yet in which single figures would have looked awkwardly thrust into the corner4 ,tintoret has made these spaces as large as possible by filling them with landscapes1 which are rendered interesting by the introduction of single figures of very small size4 ,he has not1 however1 considered his task1 of making a small piece of wainscot look like a large one1 worth the stretch of his powers1 and has painted these two landscapes just as carelessly and as fast as an upholsterer's journeyman finishing a room at a railroad hotel4 ,the color is for the most part opaque1 and dashed or scrawled on in the manner of a scene-painter2 and as during the whole morning the sun shines upon the one picture1 and during the afternoon upon the other1 hues1 which were originally thin and imperfect1 are now dried in many places into mere dirt upon the canvas4 ,with all these drawbacks the pictures are of very high interest1 for although1 as ,i said1 hastily and carelessly1 they are not languidly painted2 on the contrary1 he has been in his hottest and grandest temper2 and in this first one 7,magdalen7 the laurel tree1 with its leaves driven hither and thither among flakes of fiery cloud1 has been probably one of the greatest achievements that his hand performed in landscape3 its roots are entangled in underwood2 of which every leaf seems to be articulated1 yet all is as wild as if it had grown there instead of having been painted2 there has been a mountain distance1 too1 and a sky of stormy light1 of which ,i infinitely regret the loss1 for though its masses of light are still discernible1 its variety of hue is all sunk into a withered brown4 ,there is a curious piece of execution in the striking of the light upon a brook which runs under the roots of the laurel in the foreground3 these roots are traced in shadow against the bright surface of the water2 another painter would have drawn the light first1 and drawn the dark roots over it4 ,tintoret has laid in a brown ground which he has left for the roots1 and painted the water through their interstices with a few mighty rolls of his brush laden with white4 #f4 ,st4 ,mary of ,egypt4 ,this picture differs but little in the plan1 from the one opposite1 except that ,st4 ,mary has her back towards us1 and the ,magdalen her face1 and that the tree on the other side of the brook is a palm instead of a laurel4 ,the brook 7,jordan87 is1 however1 here much more important2 and the water painting is exceedingly fine4 ,of all painters that ,i know1 in old times1 ,tintoret is the fondest of running water2 there was a sort of sympathy between it and his own impetuous spirit4 ,the rest of the landscape is not of much interest1 except so far as it is pleasant to see trunks of trees drawn by single strokes of the brush4 #g4 ,the ,circumcision of ,christ4 ,the custode has some story about this picture having been painted in imitation of ,paul ,veronese4 ,i much doubt if ,tintoret ever imitated any body2 but this picture is the expression of his perception of what ,veronese delighted in1 the nobility that there may be in mere golden tissue and colored drapery4 ,it is1 in fact1 a picture of the moral power of gold and color2 and the chief use of the attendant priest is to support upon his shoulders the crimson robe1 with its square tablets of black and gold2 and yet nothing is withdrawn from the interest or dignity of the scene4 ,tintoret has taken immense pains with the head of the high-priest4 ,i know not any existing old man's head so exquisitely tender1 or so noble in its lines4 ,he receives the ,infant ,christ in his arms kneeling1 and looking down upon the ,child with infinite veneration and love2 and the flashing of golden rays from its head is made the centre of light1 and all interest4 ,the whole picture is like a golden charger to receive the ,child2 the priest's dress is held up behind him1 that it may occupy larger space2 the tables and floor are covered with chequer-work2 the shadows of the temple are filled with brazen lamps2 and above all are hung masses of curtains1 whose crimson folds are strewn over with golden flakes4 ,next to the ,adoration of the ,magi this picture is the most laboriously finished of the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco1 and it is unquestionably the highest existing type of the sublimity which may be thrown into the treatment of accessaries of dress and decoration4 #h4 ,assumption of the ,virgin4 ,on the tablet or panel of stone which forms the side of the tomb out of which the ,madonna rises1 is this inscription1 in large letters1 ,,rest4 ,,antonius ,,florian1 #ahcd4 ,exactly in proportion to a man's idiocy1 is always the size of the letters in which he writes his name on the picture that he spoils4 ,the old mosaicists in ,st4 ,mark's have not1 in a single instance1 as far as ,i know1 signed their names2 but the spectator who wishes to know who destroyed the effect of the nave1 may see his name inscribed1 twice over1 in letters half a foot high1 ,,bartolomeo ,,bozza4 ,i have never seen ,tintoret's name signed1 except in the great ,crucifixion2 but this ,antony ,florian1 ,i have no doubt1 repainted the whole side of the tomb that he might put his name on it4 ,the picture is1 of course1 ruined wherever he touched it2 that is to say1 half over2 the circle of cherubs in the sky is still pure2 and the design of the great painter is palpable enough yet in the grand flight of the horizontal angel1 on whom the ,madonna half leans as she ascends4 ,it has been a noble picture1 and is a grievous loss2 but1 happily1 there are so many pure ones1 that we need not spend time in gleaning treasures out of the ruins of this4 #i4 ,visitation4 ,a small picture1 painted in his very best manner2 exquisite in its simplicity1 unrivalled in vigor1 well preserved1 and1 as a piece of painting1 certainly one of the most precious in ,venice4 ,of course it does not show any of his high inventive powers2 nor can a picture of four middle-sized figures be made a proper subject of comparison with large canvases containing forty or fifty2 but it is1 for this very reason1 painted with such perfect ease1 and yet with no slackness either of affection or power1 that there is no picture that ,i covet so much4 ,it is1 besides1 altogether free from the ,renaissance taint of dramatic effect4 ,the gestures are as simple and natural as ,giotto's1 only expressed by grander lines1 such as none but ,tintoret ever reached4 ,the draperies are dark1 relieved against a light sky1 the horizon being excessively low1 and the outlines of the drapery so severe1 that the intervals between the figures look like ravines between great rocks1 and have all the sublimity of an ,alpine valley at twilight4 ,this precious picture is hung about thirty feet above the eye1 but by looking at it in a strong light1 it is discoverable that the ,saint ,elizabeth is dressed in green and crimson1 the ,virgin in the peculiar red which all great colorists delight in--a sort of glowing brick-color or brownish scarlet1 opposed to rich golden brownish black2 and both have white kerchiefs1 or drapery1 thrown over their shoulders4 ,zacharias leans on his staff behind them in a black dress with white sleeves4 ,the stroke of brilliant white light1 which outlines the knee of ,saint ,elizabeth1 is a curious instance of the habit of the painter to relieve his dark forms by a sort of halo of more vivid light1 which1 until lately1 one would have been apt to suppose a somewhat artificial and unjustifiable means of effect4 ,the daguerreotype has shown1 what the naked eye never could1 that the instinct of the great painter was true1 and that there is actually such a sudden and sharp line of light round the edges of dark objects relieved by luminous space4 ,opposite this picture is a most precious ,titian1 the ,annunciation1 full of grace and beauty4 ,i think the ,madonna one of the sweetest figures he ever painted4 ,but if the traveller has entered at all into the spirit of ,tintoret1 he will immediately feel the comparative feebleness and conventionality of the ,titian4 ,note especially the mean and petty folds of the angel's drapery1 and compare them with the draperies of the opposite picture4 ,the larger pictures at the sides of the stairs by ,zanchi and ,negri1 are utterly worthless4 ,illustration3 ,second ,group4 ,on the walls of the upper room4 #aj4 ,adoration of ,shepherds4 #ag4 ,resurrection of ,lazarus4 #aa4 ,baptism4 #ah4 ,ascension4 #ab4 ,resurrection4 #ai4 ,pool of ,bethesda4 #ac4 ,agony in ,garden4 #bj4 ,temptation4 #ad4 ,last ,supper4 #ba4 ,st4 ,rocco4 #ae4 ,altar ,piece3 ,st4 ,rocco4 #bb4 ,st4 ,sebastian4 #af4 ,miracle of ,loaves4 #aj4 ,the ,adoration of the ,shepherds4 ,this picture commences the series of the upper room1 which1 as already noticed1 is painted with far less care than that of the lower4 ,it is one of the painter's inconceivable caprices that the only canvases that are in good light should be covered in this hasty manner1 while those in the dungeon below1 and on the ceiling above1 are all highly labored4 ,it is1 however1 just possible that the covering of these walls may have been an after-thought1 when he had got tired of his work4 ,they are also1 for the most part1 illustrative of a principle of which ,i am more and more convinced every day1 that historical and figure pieces ought not to be made vehicles for effects of light4 ,the light which is fit for a historical picture is that tempered semi-sunshine of which1 in general1 the works of ,titian are the best examples1 and of which the picture we have just passed1 ,the ,visitation1 is a perfect example from the hand of one greater than ,titian2 so also the three ,crucifixions of ,san ,rocco1 ,san ,cassano1 and ,st4 ,john and ,paul2 the ,adoration of the ,magi here2 and1 in general1 the finest works of the master2 but ,tintoret was not a man to work in any formal or systematic manner2 and1 exactly like ,turner1 we find him recording every effect which ,nature herself displays4 ,still he seems to regard the pictures which deviate from the great general principle of colorists rather as tours de force than as sources of pleasure2 and ,i do not think there is any instance of his having worked out one of these tricky pictures with thorough affection1 except only in the case of the ,marriage of ,cana4 ,by tricky pictures1 ,i mean those which display light entering in different directions1 and attract the eye to the effects rather than to the figure which displays them4 ,of this treatment1 we have already had a marvellous instance in the candle-light picture of the ,last ,supper in ,san ,giorgio ,maggiore4 ,this ,adoration of the ,shepherds has probably been nearly as wonderful when first painted3 the ,madonna is seated on a kind of hammock floor made of rope netting1 covered with straw2 it divides the picture into two stories1 of which the uppermost contains the ,virgin1 with two women who are adoring ,christ1 and shows light entering from above through the loose timbers of the roof of the stable1 as well as through the bars of a square window2 the lower division shows this light falling behind the netting upon the stable floor1 occupied by a cock and a cow1 and against this light are relieved the figures of the shepherds1 for the most part in demi-tint1 but with flakes of more vigorous sunshine falling here and there upon them from above4 ,the optical illusion has originally been as perfect as one of ,hunt's best interiors2 but it is most curious that no part of the work seems to have been taken any pleasure in by the painter2 it is all by his hand1 but it looks as if he had been bent only on getting over the ground4 ,it is literally a piece of scene-painting1 and is exactly what we might fancy ,tintoret to have done1 had he been forced to paint scenes at a small theatre at a shilling a day4 ,i cannot think that the whole canvas1 though fourteen feet high and ten wide1 or thereabouts1 could have taken him more than a couple of days to finish3 and it is very noticeable that exactly in proportion to the brilliant effects of light is the coarseness of the execution1 for the figures of the ,madonna and of the women above1 which are not in any strong effect1 are painted with some care1 while the shepherds and the cow are alike slovenly2 and the latter1 which is in full sunshine1 is recognizable for a cow more by its size and that of its horns1 than by any care given to its form4 ,it is interesting to contrast this slovenly and mean sketch with the ass's head in the ,flight into ,egypt1 on which the painter exerted his full power2 as an effect of light1 however1 the work is1 of course1 most interesting4 ,one point in the treatment is especially noticeable3 there is a peacock in the rack beyond the cow2 and under other circumstances1 one cannot doubt that ,tintoret would have liked a peacock in full color1 and would have painted it green and blue with great satisfaction4 ,it is sacrificed to the light1 however1 and is painted in warm grey1 with a dim eye or two in the tail3 this process is exactly analogous to ,turner's taking the colors out of the flags of his ships in the ,gosport4 ,another striking point is the litter with which the whole picture is filled in order more to confuse the eye3 there is straw sticking from the roof1 straw all over the hammock floor1 and straw struggling hither and thither all over the floor itself2 and1 to add to the confusion1 the glory around the head of the infant1 instead of being united and serene1 is broken into little bits1 and is like a glory of chopped straw4 ,but the most curious thing1 after all1 is the want of delight in any of the principal figures1 and the comparative meanness and commonplaceness of even the folds of the drapery4 ,it seems as if ,tintoret had determined to make the shepherds as uninteresting as possible2 but one does not see why their very clothes should be ill painted1 and their disposition unpicturesque4 ,i believe1 however1 though it never struck me until ,i had examined this picture1 that this is one of the painter's fixed principles3 he does not1 with ,german sentimentality1 make shepherds and peasants graceful or sublime1 but he purposely vulgarizes them1 not by making their actions or their faces boorish or disagreeable1 but rather by painting them ill1 and composing their draperies tamely4 ,as far as ,i recollect at present1 the principle is universal with him2 exactly in proportion to the dignity of character is the beauty of the painting4 ,he will not put out his strength upon any man belonging to the lower classes2 and1 in order to know what the painter is1 one must see him at work on a king1 a senator1 or a saint4 ,the curious connexion of this with the aristocratic tendencies of the ,venetian nation1 when we remember that ,tintoret was the greatest man whom that nation produced1 may become very interesting1 if followed out4 ,i forgot to note that1 though the peacock is painted with great regardlessness of color1 there is a feature in it which no common painter would have observed1--the peculiar flatness of the back1 and undulation of the shoulders3 the bird's body is all there1 though its feathers are a good deal neglected2 and the same thing is noticeable in a cock who is pecking among the straw near the spectator1 though in other respects a shabby cock enough4 ,the fact is1 ,i believe1 he had made his shepherds so commonplace that he dare not paint his animals well1 otherwise one would have looked at nothing in the picture but the peacock1 cock1 and cow4 ,i cannot tell what the shepherds are offering2 they look like milk bowls1 but they are awkwardly held up1 with such twistings of body as would have certainly spilt the milk4 ,a woman in front has a basket of eggs2 but this ,i imagine to be merely to keep up the rustic character of the scene1 and not part of the shepherd's offerings4 #aa4 ,baptism4 ,there is more of the true picture quality in this work than in the former one1 but still very little appearance of enjoyment or care4 ,the color is for the most part grey and uninteresting1 and the figures are thin and meagre in form1 and slightly painted2 so much so1 that of the nineteen figures in the distance1 about a dozen are hardly worth calling figures1 and the rest are so sketched and flourished in that one can hardly tell which is which4 ,there is one point about it very interesting to a landscape painter3 the river is seen far into the distance1 with a piece of copse bordering it2 the sky beyond is dark1 but the water nevertheless receives a brilliant reflection from some unseen rent in the clouds1 so brilliant1 that when ,i was first at ,venice1 not being accustomed to ,tintoret's slight execution1 or to see pictures so much injured1 ,i took this piece of water for a piece of sky4 ,the effect as ,tintoret has arranged it1 is indeed somewhat unnatural1 but it is valuable as showing his recognition of a principle unknown to half the historical painters of the present day1--that the reflection seen in the water is totally different from the object seen above it1 and that it is very possible to have a bright light in reflection where there appears nothing but darkness to be reflected4 ,the clouds in the sky itself are round1 heavy1 and lightless1 and in a great degree spoil what would otherwise be a fine landscape distance4 ,behind the rocks on the right1 a single head is seen1 with a collar on the shoulders3 it seems to be intended for a portrait of some person connected with the picture4 #ab4 ,resurrection4 ,another of the effect of light pictures1 and not a very striking one1 the best part of it being the two distant figures of the ,maries seen in the dawn of the morning4 ,the conception of the ,resurrection itself is characteristic of the worst points of ,tintoret4 ,his impetuosity is here in the wrong place2 ,christ bursts out of the rock like a thunderbolt1 and the angels themselves seem likely to be crushed under the rent stones of the tomb4 ,had the figure of ,christ been sublime1 this conception might have been accepted2 but1 on the contrary1 it is weak1 mean1 and painful2 and the whole picture is languidly or roughly painted1 except only the fig-tree at the top of the rock1 which1 by a curious caprice1 is not only drawn in the painter's best manner1 but has golden ribs to all its leaves1 making it look like one of the beautiful crossed or chequered patterns1 of which he is so fond in his dresses2 the leaves themselves being a dark olive brown4 #ac4 ,the ,agony in the ,garden4 ,i cannot at present understand the order of these subjects2 but they may have been misplaced4 ,this1 of all the ,san ,rocco pictures1 is the most hastily painted1 but it is not1 like those we have been passing1 clodly painted2 it seems to have been executed altogether with a hearth-broom1 and in a few hours4 ,it is another of the effects1 and a very curious one2 the ,angel who bears the cup to ,christ is surrounded by a red halo2 yet the light which falls upon the shoulders of the sleeping disciples1 and upon the leaves of the olive-trees1 is cool and silvery1 while the troop coming up to seize ,christ are seen by torch-light4 ,judas1 who is the second figure1 points to ,christ1 but turns his head away as he does so1 as unable to look at him4 ,this is a noble touch2 the foliage is also exceedingly fine1 though what kind of olive-tree bears such leaves ,i know not1 each of them being about the size of a man's hand4 ,if there be any which bear such foliage1 their olives must be the size of cocoa-nuts4 ,this1 however1 is true only of the underwood1 which is1 perhaps1 not meant for olive4 ,there are some taller trees at the top of the picture1 whose leaves are of a more natural size4 ,on closely examining the figures of the troops on the left1 ,i find that the distant ones are concealed1 all but the limbs1 by a sort of arch of dark color1 which is now so injured1 that ,i cannot tell whether it was foliage or ground3 ,i suppose it to have been a mass of close foliage1 through which the troop is breaking its way2 ,judas rather showing them the path1 than actually pointing to ,christ1 as it is written1 ,judas1 who betrayed him1 knew the place4 ,st4 ,peter1 as the most zealous of the three disciples1 the only one who was to endeavor to defend his ,master1 is represented as awakening and turning his head toward the troop1 while ,james and ,john are buried in profound slumber1 laid in magnificent languor among the leaves4 ,the picture is singularly impressive1 when seen far enough off1 as an image of thick forest gloom amidst the rich and tender foliage of the ,south2 the leaves1 however1 tossing as in disturbed night air1 and the flickering of the torches1 and of the branches1 contrasted with the steady flame which from the ,angel's presence is spread over the robes of the disciples4 ,the strangest feature in the whole is that the ,christ also is represented as sleeping4 ,the angel seems to appear to him in a dream4 #ad4 ,the ,last ,supper4 ,a most unsatisfactory picture2 ,i think about the worst ,i know of ,tintoret's1 where there is no appearance of retouching4 ,he always makes the disciples in this scene too vulgar2 they are here not only vulgar1 but diminutive1 and ,christ is at the end of the table1 the smallest figure of them all4 ,the principal figures are two mendicants sitting on steps in front2 a kind of supporters1 but ,i suppose intended to be waiting for the fragments2 a dog1 in still more earnest expectation1 is watching the movements of the disciples1 who are talking together1 ,judas having just gone out4 ,christ is represented as giving what one at first supposes is the sop to ,judas1 but as the disciple who received it has a glory1 and there are only eleven at table1 it is evidently the ,sacramental bread4 ,the room in which they are assembled is a sort of large kitchen1 and the host is seen employed at a dresser in the background4 ,this picture has not only been originally poor1 but is one of those exposed all day to the sun1 and is dried into mere dusty canvas3 where there was once blue1 there is now nothing4 #ae4 ,saint ,rocco in ,glory4 ,one of the worst order of ,tintorets1 with apparent smoothness and finish1 yet languidly painted1 as if in illness or fatigue2 very dark and heavy in tone also2 its figures1 for the most part1 of an awkward middle size1 about five feet high1 and very uninteresting4 ,st4 ,rocco ascends to heaven1 looking down upon a crowd of poor and sick persons who are blessing and adoring him4 ,one of these1 kneeling at the bottom1 is very nearly a repetition1 though a careless and indolent one1 of that of ,st4 ,stephen1 in ,st4 ,giorgio ,maggiore1 and of the central figure in the ,paradise of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,it is a kind of lay figure1 of which he seems to have been fond2 its clasped hands are here shockingly painted--,i should think unfinished4 ,it forms the only important light at the bottom1 relieved on a dark ground2 at the top of the picture1 the figure of ,st4 ,rocco is seen in shadow against the light of the sky1 and all the rest is in confused shadow4 ,the commonplaceness of this composition is curiously connected with the languor of thought and touch throughout the work4 #af4 ,miracle of the ,loaves4 ,hardly anything but a fine piece of landscape is here left2 it is more exposed to the sun than any other picture in the room1 and its draperies having been1 in great part1 painted in blue1 are now mere patches of the color of starch2 the scene is also very imperfectly conceived4 ,the twenty-one figures1 including ,christ and his ,disciples1 very ill represent a crowd of seven thousand2 still less is the marvel of the miracle expressed by perfect ease and rest of the reclining figures in the foreground1 who do not so much as look surprised2 considered merely as reclining figures1 and as pieces of effect in half light1 they have once been fine4 ,the landscape1 which represents the slope of a woody hill1 has a very grand and far-away look4 ,behind it is a great space of streaky sky1 almost prismatic in color1 rosy and golden clouds covering up its blue1 and some fine vigorous trees thrown against it2 painted in about ten minutes each1 however1 by curly touches of the brush1 and looking rather more like seaweed than foliage4 #ag4 ,resurrection of ,lazarus4 ,very strangely1 and not impressively conceived4 ,christ is half reclining1 half sitting1 at the bottom of the picture1 while ,lazarus is disencumbered of his grave-clothes at the top of it2 the scene being the side of a rocky hill1 and the mouth of the tomb probably once visible in the shadow on the left2 but all that is now discernible is a man having his limbs unbound1 as if ,christ were merely ordering a prisoner to be loosed4 ,there appears neither awe nor agitation1 nor even much astonishment1 in any of the figures of the group2 but the picture is more vigorous than any of the three last mentioned1 and the upper part of it is quite worthy of the master1 especially its noble fig-tree and laurel1 which he has painted1 in one of his usual fits of caprice1 as carefully as that in the ,resurrection of ,christ1 opposite4 ,perhaps he has some meaning in this2 he may have been thinking of the verse1 ,behold the fig-tree1 and all the trees2 when they now shoot forth1 c4 ,in the present instance1 the leaves are dark only1 and have no golden veins4 ,the uppermost figures also come dark against the sky1 and would form a precipitous mass1 like a piece of the rock itself1 but that they are broken in upon by one of the limbs of ,lazarus1 bandaged and in full light1 which1 to my feeling1 sadly injures the picture1 both as a disagreeable object1 and a light in the wrong place4 ,the grass and weeds are1 throughout1 carefully painted1 but the lower figures are of little interest1 and the face of the ,christ a grievous failure4 #ah4 ,the ,ascension4 ,i have always admired this picture1 though it is very slight and thin in execution1 and cold in color2 but it is remarkable for its thorough effect of open air1 and for the sense of motion and clashing in the wings of the ,angels which sustain the ,christ3 they owe this effect a good deal to the manner in which they are set1 edge on2 all seem like sword-blades cutting the air4 ,it is the most curious in conception of all the pictures in the ,scuola1 for it represents1 beneath the ,ascension1 a kind of epitome of what took place before the ,ascension4 ,in the distance are two ,apostles walking1 meant1 ,i suppose1 for the two going to ,emmaus2 nearer are a group round a table1 to remind us of ,christ appearing to them as they sat at meat2 and in the foreground is a single reclining figure of1 ,i suppose1 ,st4 ,peter1 because we are told that he was seen of ,cephas1 then of the twelve3 but this interpretation is doubtful2 for why should not the vision by the ,lake of ,tiberias be expressed also8 ,and the strange thing of all is the scene1 for ,christ ascended from the ,mount of ,olives2 but the ,disciples are walking1 and the table is set1 in a little marshy and grassy valley1 like some of the bits near ,maison ,neuve on the ,jura1 with a brook running through it1 so capitally expressed1 that ,i believe it is this which makes me so fond of the picture4 ,the reflections are as scientific in the diminution1 in the image1 of large masses of bank above1 as any of ,turner's1 and the marshy and reedy ground looks as if one would sink into it2 but what all this has to do with the ,ascension ,i cannot see4 ,the figure of ,christ is not undignified1 but by no means either interesting or sublime4 #ai4 ,pool of ,bethesda4 ,i have no doubt the principal figures have been repainted2 but as the colors are faded1 and the subject disgusting1 ,i have not paid this picture sufficient attention to say how far the injury extends2 nor need any one spend time upon it1 unless after having first examined all the other ,tintorets in ,venice4 ,all the great ,italian painters appear insensible to the feeling of disgust at disease2 but this study of the population of an hospital is without any points of contrast1 and ,i wish ,tintoret had not condescended to paint it4 ,this and the six preceding paintings have all been uninteresting1--,i believe chiefly owing to the observance in them of ,sir ,joshua's rule for the heroic1 that drapery is to be mere drapery1 and not silk1 nor satin1 nor brocade4 ,however wise such a rule may be when applied to works of the purest religious art1 it is anything but wise as respects works of color4 ,tintoret is never quite himself unless he has fur or velvet1 or rich stuff of one sort or the other1 or jewels1 or armor1 or something that he can put play of color into1 among his figures1 and not dead folds of linsey-woolsey2 and ,i believe that even the best pictures of ,raffaelle and ,angelico are not a little helped by their hems of robes1 jewelled crowns1 priests' copes1 and so on2 and the pictures that have nothing of this kind in them1 as for instance the ,transfiguration1 are to my mind not a little dull4 #bj4 ,temptation4 ,this picture singularly illustrates what has just been observed2 it owes great part of its effect to the lustre of the jewels in the armlet of the evil angel1 and to the beautiful colors of his wings4 ,these are slight accessaries apparently1 but they enhance the value of all the rest1 and they have evidently been enjoyed by the painter4 ,the armlet is seen by reflected light1 its stones shining by inward lustre2 this occult fire being the only hint given of the real character of the ,tempter1 who is otherways represented in the form of a beautiful angel1 though the face is sensual3 we can hardly tell how far it was intended to be therefore expressive of evil2 for ,tintoret's good angels have not always the purest features2 but there is a peculiar subtlety in this telling of the story by so slight a circumstance as the glare of the jewels in the darkness4 ,it is curious to compare this imagination with that of the mosaics in ,st4 ,mark's1 in which ,satan is a black monster1 with horns1 and head1 and tail1 complete4 ,the whole of the picture is powerfully and carefully painted1 though very broadly2 it is a strong effect of light1 and therefore1 as usual1 subdued in color4 ,the painting of the stones in the foreground ,i have always thought1 and still think1 the best piece of rock drawing before ,turner1 and the most amazing instance of ,tintoret's perceptiveness afforded by any of his pictures4 #ba4 ,st4 ,rocco4 ,three figures occupy the spandrils of the window above this and the following picture1 painted merely in light and shade1 two larger than life1 one rather smaller4 ,i believe these to be by ,tintoret2 but as they are quite in the dark1 so that the execution cannot be seen1 and very good designs of the kind have been furnished by other masters1 ,i cannot answer for them4 ,the figure of ,st4 ,rocco1 as well as its companion1 ,st4 ,sebastian1 is colored2 they occupy the narrow intervals between the windows1 and are of course invisible under ordinary circumstances4 ,by a great deal of straining of the eyes1 and sheltering them with the hand from the light1 some little idea of the design may be obtained4 ,the ,st4 ,rocco is a fine figure1 though rather coarse1 but1 at all events1 worth as much light as would enable us to see it4 #bb4 ,st4 ,sebastian4 ,this1 the companion figure1 is one of the finest things in the whole room1 and assuredly the most majestic ,saint ,sebastian in existence2 as far as mere humanity can be majestic1 for there is no effort at any expression of angelic or saintly resignation2 the effort is simply to realize the fact of the martyrdom1 and it seems to me that this is done to an extent not even attempted by any other painter4 ,i never saw a man die a violent death1 and therefore cannot say whether this figure be true or not1 but it gives the grandest and most intense impression of truth4 ,the figure is dead1 and well it may be1 for there is one arrow through the forehead and another through the heart2 but the eyes are open1 though glazed1 and the body is rigid in the position in which it last stood1 the left arm raised and the left limb advanced1 something in the attitude of a soldier sustaining an attack under his shield1 while the dead eyes are still turned in the direction from which the arrows came3 but the most characteristic feature is the way these arrows are fixed4 ,in the common martyrdoms of ,st4 ,sebastian they are stuck into him here and there like pins1 as if they had been shot from a great distance and had come faltering down1 entering the flesh but a little way1 and rather bleeding the saint to death than mortally wounding him2 but ,tintoret had no such ideas about archery4 ,he must have seen bows drawn in battle1 like that of ,jehu when he smote ,jehoram between the harness3 all the arrows in the saint's body lie straight in the same direction1 broad-feathered and strong-shafted1 and sent apparently with the force of thunderbolts2 every one of them has gone through him like a lance1 two through the limbs1 one through the arm1 one through the heart1 and the last has crashed through the forehead1 nailing the head to the tree behind as if it had been dashed in by a sledge-hammer4 ,the face1 in spite of its ghastliness1 is beautiful1 and has been serene2 and the light which enters first and glistens on the plumes of the arrows1 dies softly away upon the curling hair1 and mixes with the glory upon the forehead4 ,there is not a more remarkable picture in ,venice1 and yet ,i do not suppose that one in a thousand of the travellers who pass through the ,scuola so much as perceives there is a picture in the place which it occupies4 ,illustration3 ,third ,group4 ,on the roof of the upper room4 #bc4 ,moses striking the ,rock4 #bi4 ,elijah4 #bd4 ,plague of ,serpents4 #cj4 ,jonah4 #be4 ,fall of ,manna4 #ca4 ,joshua4 #bf4 ,jacob's ,dream4 #cb4 ,sacrifice of ,isaac4 #bg4 ,ezekiel's ,vision4 #cc4 ,elijah at the ,brook4 #bh4 ,fall of ,man4 #cd4 ,paschal ,feast4 #ce4 ,elisha feeding the ,people4 #bc4 ,moses striking the ,rock4 ,we now come to the series of pictures upon which the painter concentrated the strength he had reserved for the upper room2 and in some sort wisely1 for1 though it is not pleasant to examine pictures on a ceiling1 they are at least distinctly visible without straining the eyes against the light4 ,they are carefully conceived and thoroughly well painted in proportion to their distance from the eye4 ,this carefulness of thought is apparent at a glance3 the ,moses striking the ,rock embraces the whole of the seventeenth chapter of ,exodus1 and even something more1 for it is not from that chapter1 but from parallel passages that we gather the facts of the impatience of ,moses and the wrath of ,god at the waters of ,meribah2 both which facts are shown by the leaping of the stream out of the rock half-a-dozen ways at once1 forming a great arch over the head of ,moses1 and by the partial veiling of the countenance of the ,supreme ,being4 ,this latter is the most painful part of the whole picture1 at least as it is seen from below2 and ,i believe that in some repairs of the roof this head must have been destroyed and repainted4 ,it is one of ,tintoret's usual fine thoughts that the lower part of the figure is veiled1 not merely by clouds1 but in a kind of watery sphere1 showing the ,deity coming to the ,israelites at that particular moment as the ,lord of the ,rivers and of the ,fountain of the ,waters4 ,the whole figure1 as well as that of ,moses and the greater number of those in the foreground1 is at once dark and warm1 black and red being the prevailing colors1 while the distance is bright gold touched with blue1 and seems to open into the picture like a break of blue sky after rain4 ,how exquisite is this expression1 by mere color1 of the main force of the fact represented6 that is to say1 joy and refreshment after sorrow and scorching heat4 ,but1 when we examine of what this distance consists1 we shall find still more cause for admiration4 ,the blue in it is not the blue of sky1 it is obtained by blue stripes upon white tents glowing in the sunshine2 and in front of these tents is seen that great battle with ,amalek of which the account is given in the remainder of the chapter1 and for which the ,israelites received strength in the streams which ran out of the rock in ,horeb4 ,considered merely as a picture1 the opposition of cool light to warm shadow is one of the most remarkable pieces of color in the ,scuola1 and the great mass of foliage which waves over the rocks on the left appears to have been elaborated with his highest power and his most sublime invention4 ,but this noble passage is much injured1 and now hardly visible4 #bd4 ,plague of ,serpents4 ,the figures in the distance are remarkably important in this picture1 ,moses himself being among them2 in fact1 the whole scene is filled chiefly with middle-sized figures1 in order to increase the impression of space4 ,it is interesting to observe the difference in the treatment of this subject by the three great painters1 ,michael ,angelo1 ,rubens1 and ,tintoret4 ,the first two1 equal to the latter in energy1 had less love of liberty3 they were fond of binding their compositions into knots1 ,tintoret of scattering his far and wide3 they all alike preserve the unity of composition1 but the unity in the first two is obtained by binding1 and that of the last by springing from one source2 and1 together with this feeling1 comes his love of space1 which makes him less regard the rounding and form of objects themselves1 than their relations of light and shade and distance4 ,therefore ,rubens and ,michael ,angelo made the fiery serpents huge boa constrictors1 and knotted the sufferers together with them4 ,tintoret does not like to be so bound2 so he makes the serpents little flying and fluttering monsters like lampreys with wings2 and the children of ,israel1 instead of being thrown into convulsed and writhing groups1 are scattered1 fainting in the fields1 far away in the distance4 ,as usual1 ,tintoret's conception1 while thoroughly characteristic of himself1 is also truer to the words of ,scripture4 ,we are told that the ,lord sent fiery serpents among the people1 and they bit the people2 we are not told that they crushed the people to death4 ,and while thus the truest1 it is also the most terrific conception4 ,m4 ,angelo's would be terrific if one could believe in it3 but our instinct tells us that boa constrictors do not come in armies2 and we look upon the picture with as little emotion as upon the handle of a vase1 or any other form worked out of serpents1 where there is no probability of serpents actually occurring4 ,but there is a probability in ,tintoret's conception4 ,we feel that it is not impossible that there should come up a swarm of these small winged reptiles3 and their horror is not diminished by their smallness3 not that they have any of the grotesque terribleness of ,german invention2 they might have been made infinitely uglier with small pains1 but it is their veritableness which makes them awful4 ,they have triangular heads with sharp beaks or muzzle2 and short1 rather thick bodies1 with bony processes down the back like those of sturgeons2 and small wings spotted with orange and black2 and round glaring eyes1 not very large1 but very ghastly1 with an intense delight in biting expressed in them4 7,it is observable1 that the ,venetian painter has got his main idea of them from the sea-horses and small reptiles of the ,lagoons47 ,these monsters are fluttering and writhing about everywhere1 fixing on whatever they come near with their sharp venomous heads2 and they are coiling about on the ground1 and all the shadows and thickets are full of them1 so that there is no escape anywhere3 and1 in order to give the idea of greater extent to the plague1 ,tintoret has not been content with one horizon2 ,i have before mentioned the excessive strangeness of this composition1 in having a cavern open in the right of the foreground1 through which is seen another sky and another horizon4 ,at the top of the picture1 the ,divine ,being is seen borne by angels1 apparently passing over the congregation in wrath1 involved in masses of dark clouds2 while1 behind1 an ,angel of mercy is descending toward ,moses1 surrounded by a globe of white light4 ,this globe is hardly seen from below2 it is not a common glory1 but a transparent sphere1 like a bubble1 which not only envelopes the angel1 but crosses the figure of ,moses1 throwing the upper part of it into a subdued pale color1 as if it were crossed by a sunbeam4 ,tintoret is the only painter who plays these tricks with transparent light1 the only man who seems to have perceived the effects of sunbeams1 mists1 and clouds1 in the far away atmosphere2 and to have used what he saw on towers1 clouds1 or mountains1 to enhance the sublimity of his figures4 ,the whole upper part of this picture is magnificent1 less with respect to individual figures1 than for the drift of its clouds1 and originality and complication of its light and shade2 it is something like ,raffaelle's ,vision of ,ezekiel1 but far finer4 ,it is difficult to understand how any painter1 who could represent floating clouds so nobly as he has done here1 could ever paint the odd1 round1 pillowy masses which so often occur in his more carelessly designed sacred subjects4 ,the lower figures are not so interesting1 and the whole is painted with a view to effect from below1 and gains little by close examination4 #be4 ,fall of ,manna4 ,in none of these three large compositions has the painter made the slightest effort at expression in the human countenance2 everything is done by gesture1 and the faces of the people who are drinking from the rock1 dying from the serpent-bites1 and eating the manna1 are all alike as calm as if nothing was happening2 in addition to this1 as they are painted for distant effect1 the heads are unsatisfactory and coarse when seen near1 and perhaps in this last picture the more so1 and yet the story is exquisitely told4 ,we have seen in the ,church of ,san ,giorgio ,maggiore another example of his treatment of it1 where1 however1 the gathering of manna is a subordinate employment1 but here it is principal4 ,now1 observe1 we are told of the manna1 that it was found in the morning2 that then there lay round about the camp a small round thing like the hoar-frost1 and that when the sun waxed hot it melted4 ,tintoret has endeavored1 therefore1 first of all1 to give the idea of coolness2 the congregation are reposing in a soft green meadow1 surrounded by blue hills1 and there are rich trees above them1 to the branches of one of which is attached a great grey drapery to catch the manna as it comes down4 ,in any other picture such a mass of drapery would assuredly have had some vivid color1 but here it is grey2 the fields are cool frosty green1 the mountains cold blue1 and1 to complete the expression and meaning of all this1 there is a most important point to be noted in the form of the ,deity1 seen above1 through an opening in the clouds4 ,there are at least ten or twelve other pictures in which the form of the ,supreme ,being occurs1 to be found in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco alone2 and in every one of these instances it is richly colored1 the garments being generally red and blue1 but in this picture of the manna the figure is snow white4 ,thus the painter endeavors to show the ,deity as the giver of bread1 just as in the ,striking of the ,rock we saw that he represented ,him as the ,lord of the rivers1 the fountains1 and the waters4 ,there is one other very sweet incident at the bottom of the picture2 four or five sheep1 instead of pasturing1 turn their heads aside to catch the manna as it comes down1 or seem to be licking it off each other's fleeces4 ,the tree above1 to which the drapery is tied1 is the most delicate and delightful piece of leafage in all the ,scuola2 it has a large sharp leaf1 something like that of a willow1 but five times the size4 #bf4 ,jacob's ,dream4 ,a picture which has good effect from below1 but gains little when seen near4 ,it is an embarrassing one for any painter1 because angels always look awkward going up and down stairs2 one does not see the use of their wings4 ,tintoret has thrown them into buoyant and various attitudes1 but has evidently not treated the subject with delight2 and it is seen to all the more disadvantage because just above the painting of the ,ascension1 in which the full fresh power of the painter is developed4 ,one would think this latter picture had been done just after a walk among hills1 for it is full of the most delicate effects of transparent cloud1 more or less veiling the faces and forms of the angels1 and covering with white light the silvery sprays of the palms1 while the clouds in the ,jacob's ,dream are the ordinary rotundities of the studio4 #bg4 ,ezekiel's ,vision4 ,i suspect this has been repainted1 it is so heavy and dead in color2 a fault1 however1 observable in many of the small pictures on the ceiling1 and perhaps the natural result of the fatigue of such a mind as ,tintoret's4 ,a painter who threw such intense energy into some of his works can hardly but have been languid in others in a degree never experienced by the more tranquil minds of less powerful workmen2 and when this languor overtook him whilst he was at work on pictures where a certain space had to be covered by mere force of arm1 this heaviness of color could hardly but have been the consequence3 it shows itself chiefly in reds and other hot hues1 many of the pictures in the ,ducal ,palace also displaying it in a painful degree4 ,this ,ezekiel's ,vision is1 however1 in some measure worthy of the master1 in the wild and horrible energy with which the skeletons are leaping up about the prophet2 but it might have been less horrible and more sublime1 no attempt being made to represent the space of the ,valley of ,dry ,bones1 and the whole canvas being occupied only by eight figures1 of which five are half skeletons4 ,it it is strange that1 in such a subject1 the prevailing hues should be red and brown4 #bh4 ,fall of ,man4 ,the two canvases last named are the most considerable in size upon the roof1 after the centre pieces4 ,we now come to the smaller subjects which surround the ,striking the ,rock2 of these this ,fall of ,man is the best1 and ,i should think it very fine anywhere but in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco2 there is a grand light on the body of ,eve1 and the vegetation is remarkably rich1 but the faces are coarse1 and the composition uninteresting4 ,i could not get near enough to see what the grey object is upon which ,eve appears to be sitting1 nor could ,i see any serpent4 ,it is made prominent in the picture of the ,academy of this same subject1 so that ,i suppose it is hidden in the darkness1 together with much detail which it would be necessary to discover in order to judge the work justly4 #bi4 ,elijah 7874 ,a prophet holding down his face1 which is covered with his hand4 ,god is talking with him1 apparently in rebuke4 ,the clothes on his breast are rent1 and the action of the figures might suggest the idea of the scene between the ,deity and ,elijah at ,horeb3 but there is no suggestion of the past magnificent scenery1--of the wind1 the earthquake1 or the fire2 so that the conjecture is good for very little4 ,the painting is of small interest2 the faces are vulgar1 and the draperies have too much vapid historical dignity to be delightful4 #cj4 ,jonah4 ,the whale here occupies fully one-half of the canvas2 being correspondent in value with a landscape background4 ,his mouth is as large as a cavern1 and yet1 unless the mass of red color in the foreground be a piece of drapery1 his tongue is too large for it4 ,he seems to have lifted ,jonah out upon it1 and not yet drawn it back1 so that it forms a kind of crimson cushion for him to kneel upon in his submission to the ,deity4 ,the head to which this vast tongue belongs is sketched in somewhat loosely1 and there is little remarkable about it except its size1 nor much in the figures1 though the submissiveness of ,jonah is well given4 ,the great thought of ,michael ,angelo renders one little charitable to any less imaginative treatment of this subject4 #ca4 ,joshua 7874 ,this is a most interesting picture1 and it is a shame that its subject is not made out1 for it is not a common one4 ,the figure has a sword in its hand1 and looks up to a sky full of fire1 out of which the form of the ,deity is stooping1 represented as white and colorless4 ,on the other side of the picture there is seen among the clouds a pillar apparently falling1 and there is a crowd at the feet of the principal figure1 carrying spears4 ,unless this be ,joshua at the fall of ,jericho1 ,i cannot tell what it means2 it is painted with great vigor1 and worthy of a better place4 #cb4 ,sacrifice of ,isaac4 ,in conception1 it is one of the least worthy of the master in the whole room1 the three figures being thrown into violent attitudes1 as inexpressive as they are strained and artificial4 ,it appears to have been vigorously painted1 but vulgarly2 that is to say1 the light is concentrated upon the white beard and upturned countenance of ,abraham1 as it would have been in one of the dramatic effects of the ,french school1 the result being that the head is very bright and very conspicuous1 and perhaps1 in some of the late operations upon the roof1 recently washed and touched4 ,in consequence1 every one who comes into the room1 is first invited to observe the bella testa di ,abramo4 ,the only thing characteristic of ,tintoret is the way in which the pieces of ragged wood are tossed hither and thither in the pile upon which ,isaac is bound1 although this scattering of the wood is inconsistent with the ,scriptural account of ,abraham's deliberate procedure1 for we are told of him that he set the wood in order4 ,but ,tintoret had probably not noticed this1 and thought the tossing of the timber into the disordered heap more like the act of the father in his agony4 #cc4 ,elijah at the ,brook ,cherith 7874 ,i cannot tell if ,i have rightly interpreted the meaning of this picture1 which merely represents a noble figure couched upon the ground1 and an angel appearing to him2 but ,i think that between the dark tree on the left1 and the recumbent figure1 there is some appearance of a running stream1 at all events there is of a mountainous and stony place4 ,the longer ,i study this master1 the more ,i feel the strange likeness between him and ,turner1 in our never knowing what subject it is that will stir him to exertion4 ,we have lately had him treating ,jacob's ,dream1 ,ezekiel's ,vision1 ,abraham's ,sacrifice1 and ,jonah's ,prayer1 7all of them subjects on which the greatest painters have delighted to expend their strength17 with coldness1 carelessness1 and evident absence of delight2 and here1 on a sudden1 in a subject so indistinct that one cannot be sure of its meaning1 and embracing only two figures1 a man and an angel1 forth he starts in his full strength4 ,i believe he must somewhere or another1 the day before1 have seen a kingfisher2 for this picture seems entirely painted for the sake of the glorious downy wings of the angel1--white clouded with blue1 as the bird's head and wings are with green1--the softest and most elaborate in plumage that ,i have seen in any of his works3 but observe also the general sublimity obtained by the mountainous lines of the drapery of the recumbent figure1 dependent for its dignity upon these forms alone1 as the face is more than half hidden1 and what is seen of it expressionless4 #cd4 ,the ,paschal ,feast4 ,i name this picture by the title given in the guide-books2 it represents merely five persons watching the increase of a small fire lighted on a table or altar in the midst of them4 ,it is only because they have all staves in their hands that one may conjecture this fire to be that kindled to consume the ,paschal offering4 ,the effect is of course a fire light2 and1 like all mere fire lights that ,i have ever seen1 totally devoid of interest4 #ce4 ,elisha feeding the ,people4 ,i again guess at the subject3 the picture only represents a figure casting down a number of loaves before a multitude2 but1 as ,elisha has not elsewhere occurred1 ,i suppose that these must be the barley loaves brought from ,baalshalisha4 ,in conception and manner of painting1 this picture and the last1 together with the others above-mentioned1 in comparison with the ,elijah at ,cherith1 may be generally described as dregs of ,tintoret3 they are tired1 dead1 dragged out upon the canvas apparently in the heavy-hearted state which a man falls into when he is both jaded with toil and sick of the work he is employed upon4 ,they are not hastily painted2 on the contrary1 finished with considerably more care than several of the works upon the walls2 but those1 as1 for instance1 the ,agony in the ,garden1 are hurried sketches with the man's whole heart in them1 while these pictures are exhausted fulfilments of an appointed task4 ,whether they were really amongst the last painted1 or whether the painter had fallen ill at some intermediate time1 ,i cannot say2 but we shall find him again in his utmost strength in the room which we last enter4 ,illustration3 ,fourth ,group4 ,inner room on the upper floor4 ,on the ,roof4 #cf to #ci4 ,children's ,heads4 #da to #dd4 ,children4 #dj4 ,st4 ,rocco in ,heaven4 #de to #ef4 ,allegorical ,figures4 ,on the ,walls4 #eg4 ,figure in ,niche4 #fj4 ,ecce ,homo4 #eh4 ,figure in ,niche4 #fa4 ,christ bearing his ,cross4 #ei4 ,christ before ,pilate4 #fb4 ,,crucifixion4 #cf to #ci4 ,four ,children's ,heads1 which it is much to be regretted should be thus lost in filling small vacuities of the ceiling4 #dj4 ,st4 ,rocco in ,heaven4 ,the central picture of the roof1 in the inner room4 ,from the well-known anecdote respecting the production of this picture1 whether in all its details true or not1 we may at least gather that having been painted in competition with ,paul ,veronese and other powerful painters of the day1 it was probably ,tintoret's endeavor to make it as popular and showy as possible4 ,it is quite different from his common works2 bright in all its tints and tones2 the faces carefully drawn1 and of an agreeable type2 the outlines firm1 and the shadows few2 the whole resembling ,correggio more than any ,venetian painter4 ,it is1 however1 an example of the danger1 even to the greatest artist1 of leaving his own style2 for it lacks all the great virtues of ,tintoret1 without obtaining the lusciousness of ,correggio4 ,one thing1 at all events1 is remarkable in it1--that1 though painted while the competitors were making their sketches1 it shows no sign of haste or inattention4 #da to #dd4 ,figures of ,children1 merely decorative4 #de to #ef4 ,allegorical ,figures on the ,roof4 ,if these were not in the same room with the ,crucifixion1 they would attract more public attention than any works in the ,scuola1 as there are here no black shadows1 nor extravagances of invention1 but very beautiful figures richly and delicately colored1 a good deal resembling some of the best works of ,andrea del ,sarto4 ,there is nothing in them1 however1 requiring detailed examination4 ,the two figures between the windows are very slovenly1 if they are his at all2 and there are bits of marbling and fruit filling the cornices1 which may or may not be his3 if they are1 they are tired work1 and of small importance4 #ei4 ,christ before ,pilate4 ,a most interesting picture1 but1 which is unusual1 best seen on a dark day1 when the white figure of ,christ alone draws the eye1 looking almost like a spirit2 the painting of the rest of the picture being both somewhat thin and imperfect4 ,there is a certain meagreness about all the minor figures1 less grandeur and largeness in the limbs and draperies1 and less solidity1 it seems1 even in the color1 although its arrangements are richer than in many of the compositions above described4 ,i hardly know whether it is owing to this thinness of color1 or on purpose1 that the horizontal clouds shine through the crimson flag in the distance2 though ,i should think the latter1 for the effect is most beautiful4 ,the passionate action of the ,scribe in lifting his hand to dip the pen into the ink-horn is1 however1 affected and overstrained1 and the ,pilate is very mean2 perhaps intentionally1 that no reverence might be withdrawn from the person of ,christ4 ,in work of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries1 the figures of ,pilate and ,herod are always intentionally made contemptible4 ,ecce ,homo4 ,as usual1 ,tintoret's own peculiar view of the subject4 ,christ is laid fainting on the ground1 with a soldier standing on one side of him2 while ,pilate1 on the other1 withdraws the robe from the scourged and wounded body1 and points it out to the ,jews4 ,both this and the picture last mentioned resemble ,titian more than ,tintoret in the style of their treatment4 #fa4 ,christ bearing his ,cross4 ,tintoret is here recognizable again in undiminished strength4 ,he has represented the troops and attendants climbing ,calvary by a winding path1 of which two turns are seen1 the figures on the uppermost ledge1 and ,christ in the centre of them1 being relieved against the sky2 but1 instead of the usual simple expedient of the bright horizon to relieve the dark masses1 there is here introduced1 on the left1 the head of a white horse1 which blends itself with the sky in one broad mass of light4 ,the power of the picture is chiefly in effect1 the figure of ,christ being too far off to be very interesting1 and only the malefactors being seen on the nearer path2 but for this very reason it seems to me more impressive1 as if one had been truly present at the scene1 though not exactly in the right place for seeing it4 #fb4 ,the ,crucifixion4 ,i must leave this picture to work its will on the spectator2 for it is beyond all analysis1 and above all praise4 ,s ,,sagredo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 ,,ii4 #bef4 ,much defaced1 but full of interest4 ,its sea story is restored2 its first floor has a most interesting arcade of the early thirteenth century third order windows2 its upper windows are the finest fourth and fifth orders of early fourteenth century2 the group of fourth orders in the centre being brought into some resemblance to the late ,gothic traceries by the subsequent introduction of the quatrefoils above them4 ,,salute1 ,,church ,,of ,,sta4 ,,maria ,,della1 on the ,grand ,canal1 ,,ii4 #cgh4 ,one of the earliest buildings of the ,grotesque ,renaissance1 rendered impressive by its position1 size1 and general proportions4 ,these latter are exceedingly good2 the grace of the whole building being chiefly dependent on the inequality of size in its cupolas1 and pretty grouping of the two campaniles behind them4 ,it is to be generally observed that the proportions of buildings have nothing whatever to do with the style or general merits of their architecture4 ,an architect trained in the worst schools1 and utterly devoid of all meaning or purpose in his work1 may yet have such a natural gift of massing and grouping as will render all his structures effective when seen from a distance3 such a gift is very general with the late ,italian builders1 so that many of the most contemptible edifices in the country have good stage effect so long as we do not approach them4 ,the ,church of the ,salute is farther assisted by the beautiful flight of steps in front of it down to the canal2 and its faade is rich and beautiful of its kind1 and was chosen by ,turner for the principal object in his well-known view of the ,grand ,canal4 ,the principal faults of the building are the meagre windows in the sides of the cupola1 and the ridiculous disguise of the buttresses under the form of colossal scrolls2 the buttresses themselves being originally a hypocrisy1 for the cupola is stated by ,lazari to be of timber1 and therefore needs none4 ,the sacristy contains several precious pictures3 the three on its roof by ,titian1 much vaunted1 are indeed as feeble as they are monstrous2 but the small ,titian1 ,st4 ,mark1 with ,sts4 ,cosmo and ,damian1 was1 when ,i first saw it1 to my judgment1 by far the first work of ,titian's in ,venice4 ,it has since been restored by the ,academy1 and it seemed to me entirely destroyed1 but ,i had not time to examine it carefully4 ,at the end of the larger sacristy is the lunette which once decorated the tomb of the ,doge ,francesco ,dandolo 7see above1 page #gd72 and1 at the side of it1 one of the most highly finished ,tintorets in ,venice1 namely3 ,the ,marriage in ,cana4 ,an immense picture1 some twenty-five feet long by fifteen high1 and said by ,lazari to be one of the few which ,tintoret signed with his name4 ,i am not surprised at his having done so in this case4 ,evidently the work has been a favorite with him1 and he has taken as much pains as it was ever necessary for his colossal strength to take with anything4 ,the subject is not one which admits of much singularity or energy in composition4 ,it was always a favorite one with ,veronese1 because it gave dramatic interest to figures in gay costumes and of cheerful countenances2 but one is surprised to find ,tintoret1 whose tone of mind was always grave1 and who did not like to make a picture out of brocades and diadems1 throwing his whole strength into the conception of a marriage feast2 but so it is1 and there are assuredly no female heads in any of his pictures in ,venice elaborated so far as those which here form the central light4 ,neither is it often that the works of this mighty master conform themselves to any of the rules acted upon by ordinary painters2 but in this instance the popular laws have been observed1 and an academy student would be delighted to see with what severity the principal light is arranged in a central mass1 which is divided and made more brilliant by a vigorous piece of shadow thrust into the midst of it1 and which dies away in lesser fragments and sparkling towards the extremities of the picture4 ,this mass of light is as interesting by its composition as by its intensity4 ,the cicerone who escorts the stranger round the sacristy in the course of five minutes1 and allows him some forty seconds for the contemplation of a picture which the study of six months would not entirely fathom1 directs his attention very carefully to the bell' effetto di prospettivo1 the whole merit of the picture being1 in the eyes of the intelligent public1 that there is a long table in it1 one end of which looks farther off than the other2 but there is more in the bell' effetto di prospettivo than the observance of the common laws of optics4 ,the table is set in a spacious chamber1 of which the windows at the end let in the light from the horizon1 and those in the side wall the intense blue of an ,eastern sky4 ,the spectator looks all along the table1 at the farther end of which are seated ,christ and the ,madonna1 the marriage guests on each side of it1--on one side men1 on the other women2 the men are set with their backs to the light1 which passing over their heads and glancing slightly on the tablecloth1 falls in full length along the line of young ,venetian women1 who thus fill the whole centre of the picture with one broad sunbeam1 made up of fair faces and golden hair4 ,close to the spectator a woman has risen in amazement1 and stretches across the table to show the wine in her cup to those opposite2 her dark red dress intercepts and enhances the mass of gathered light4 ,it is rather curious1 considering the subject of the picture1 that one cannot distinguish either the bride or the bridegroom2 but the fourth figure from the ,madonna in the line of women1 who wears a white head-dress of lace and rich chains of pearls in her hair1 may well be accepted for the former1 and ,i think that between her and the woman on the ,madonna's left hand the unity of the line of women is intercepted by a male figure2 be this as it may1 this fourth female face is the most beautiful1 as far as ,i recollect1 that occurs in the works of the painter1 with the exception only of the ,madonna in the ,flight into ,egypt4 ,it is an ideal which occurs indeed elsewhere in many of his works1 a face at once dark and delicate1 the ,italian cast of feature moulded with the softness and childishness of ,english beauty some half a century ago2 but ,i have never seen the ideal so completely worked out by the master4 ,the face may best be described as one of the purest and softest of ,stothard's conceptions1 executed with all the strength of ,tintoret4 ,the other women are all made inferior to this one1 but there are beautiful profiles and bendings of breasts and necks along the whole line4 ,the men are all subordinate1 though there are interesting portraits among them2 perhaps the only fault of the picture being that the faces are a little too conspicuous1 seen like balls of light among the crowd of minor figures which fill the background of the picture4 ,the tone of the whole is sober and majestic in the highest degree2 the dresses are all broad masses of color1 and the only parts of the picture which lay claim to the expression of wealth or splendor are the head-dresses of the women4 ,in this respect the conception of the scene differs widely from that of ,veronese1 and approaches more nearly to the probable truth4 ,still the marriage is not an unimportant one2 an immense crowd1 filling the background1 forming superbly rich mosaic of color against the distant sky4 ,taken as a whole1 the picture is perhaps the most perfect example which human art has produced of the utmost possible force and sharpness of shadow united with richness of local color4 ,in all the other works of ,tintoret1 and much more of other colorists1 either the light and shade or the local color is predominant2 in the one case the picture has a tendency to look as if painted by candle-light1 in the other it becomes daringly conventional1 and approaches the conditions of glass-painting4 ,this picture unites color as rich as ,titian's with light and shade as forcible as ,rembrandt's1 and far more decisive4 ,there are one or two other interesting pictures of the early ,venetian schools in this sacristy1 and several important tombs in the adjoining cloister2 among which that of ,francesco ,dandolo1 transported here from the ,church of the ,frari1 deserves especial attention4 ,see above1 p4 #gd4 ,,salvatore1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,base ,renaissance1 occupying the place of the ancient church1 under the porch of which the ,pope ,alexander ,,iii4 is said to have passed the night4 ,m4 ,lazari states it to have been richly decorated with mosaics2 now all is gone4 ,in the interior of the church are some of the best examples of ,renaissance sculptural monuments in ,venice4 7,see above1 ,chap4 ,,ii4 ,,lxxx47 ,it is said to possess an important pala of silver1 of the thirteenth century1 one of the objects in ,venice which ,i much regret having forgotten to examine2 besides two ,titians1 a ,bonifazio1 and a ,john ,bellini4 ,the latter 7,the ,supper at ,emmaus7 must1 ,i think1 have been entirely repainted3 it is not only unworthy of the master1 but unlike him2 as far1 at least1 as ,i could see from below1 for it is hung high4 ,,sanudo ,,palazzo4 ,at the ,miracoli4 ,a noble ,gothic palace of the fourteenth century1 with ,byzantine fragments and cornices built into its walls1 especially round the interior court1 in which the staircase is very noble4 ,its door1 opening on the quay1 is the only one in ,venice entirely uninjured2 retaining its wooden valve richly sculptured1 its wicket for examination of the stranger demanding admittance1 and its quaint knocker in the form of a fish4 ,,scalzi1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,it possesses a fine ,john ,bellini1 and is renowned through ,venice for its precious marbles4 ,i omitted to notice above1 in speaking of the buildings of the ,grotesque ,renaissance1 that many of them are remarkable for a kind of dishonesty1 even in the use of true marbles1 resulting not from motives of economy1 but from mere love of juggling and falsehood for their own sake4 ,i hardly know which condition of mind is meanest1 that which has pride in plaster made to look like marble1 or that which takes delight in marble made to look like silk4 ,several of the later churches in ,venice1 more especially those of the ,jesuiti1 of ,san ,clemente1 and this of the ,scalzi1 rest their chief claims to admiration on their having curtains and cushions cut out of rock4 ,the most ridiculous example is in ,san ,clemente1 and the most curious and costly are in the ,scalzi2 which latter church is a perfect type of the vulgar abuse of marble in every possible way1 by men who had no eye for color1 and no understanding of any merit in a work of art but that which arises from costliness of material1 and such powers of imitation as are devoted in ,england to the manufacture of peaches and eggs out of ,derbyshire spar4 ,,sebastian1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,the tomb1 and of old the monument1 of ,paul ,veronese4 ,it is full of his noblest pictures1 or of what once were such2 but they seemed to me for the most part destroyed by repainting4 ,i had not time to examine them justly1 but ,i would especially direct the traveller's attention to the small ,madonna over the second altar on the right of the nave1 still a perfect and priceless treasure4 ,,servi1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,only two of its gates and some ruined walls are left1 in one of the foulest districts of the city4 ,it was one of the most interesting monuments of the early fourteenth century ,gothic2 and there is much beauty in the fragments yet remaining4 ,how long they may stand ,i know not1 the whole building having been offered me for sale1 ground and all1 or stone by stone1 as ,i chose1 by its present proprietor1 when ,i was last in ,venice4 ,more real good might at present be effected by any wealthy person who would devote his resources to the preservation of such monuments wherever they exist1 by freehold purchase of the entire ruin1 and afterwards by taking proper charge of it1 and forming a garden round it1 than by any other mode of protecting or encouraging art4 ,there is no school1 no lecturer1 like a ruin of the early ages4 ,,severo1 ,,fondamenta ,,san1 palace at1 ,,ii4 #bfd4 ,,silvestro1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance in itself1 but it contains two very interesting pictures3 the first1 a ,st4 ,thomas of ,canterbury with the ,baptist and ,st4 ,francis1 by ,girolamo ,santa ,croce1 a superb example of the ,venetian religious school2 the second by ,tintoret1 namely3 ,the ,baptism of ,christ4 7,over the first altar on the right of the nave47 ,an upright picture1 some ten feet wide by fifteen high2 the top of it is arched1 representing the ,father supported by angels4 ,it requires little knowledge of ,tintoret to see that these figures are not by his hand4 ,by returning to the opposite side of the nave1 the join in the canvas may be plainly seen1 the upper part of the picture having been entirely added on3 whether it had this upper part before it was repainted1 or whether originally square1 cannot now be told1 but ,i believe it had an upper part which has been destroyed4 ,i am not sure if even the dove and the two angels which are at the top of the older part of the picture are quite genuine4 ,the rest of it is magnificent1 though both the figures of the ,saviour and the ,baptist show some concession on the part of the painter to the imperative requirement of his age1 that nothing should be done except in an attitude2 neither are there any of his usual fantastic imaginations4 ,there is simply the ,christ in the water and the ,st4 ,john on the shore1 without attendants1 disciples1 or witnesses of any kind2 but the power of the light and shade1 and the splendor of the landscape1 which on the whole is well preserved1 render it a most interesting example4 ,the ,jordan is represented as a mountain brook1 receiving a tributary stream in a cascade from the rocks1 in which ,st4 ,john stands3 there is a rounded stone in the centre of the current2 and the parting of the water at this1 as well as its rippling among the roots of some dark trees on the left1 are among the most accurate remembrances of nature to be found in any of the works of the great masters4 ,i hardly know whether most to wonder at the power of the man who thus broke through the neglect of nature which was universal at his time2 or at the evidences1 visible throughout the whole of the conception1 that he was still content to paint from slight memories of what he had seen in hill countries1 instead of following out to its full depth the fountain which he had opened4 ,there is not a stream among the hills of ,priuli which in any quarter of a mile of its course would not have suggested to him finer forms of cascade than those which he has idly painted at ,venice4 ,,simeone1 ,,profeta1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,very important1 though small1 possessing the precious statue of ,st4 ,simeon1 above noticed1 ,,ii4 #cji4 ,the rare early ,gothic capitals of the nave are only interesting to the architect2 but in the little passage by the side of the church1 leading out of the ,campo1 there is a curious ,gothic monument built into the wall1 very beautiful in the placing of the angels in the spandrils1 and rich in the vine-leaf moulding above4 ,,simeone1 ,,piccolo1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,one of the ugliest churches in ,venice or elsewhere4 ,its black dome1 like an unusual species of gasometer1 is the admiration of modern ,italian architects4 ,,sospiri1 ,,ponte ,,de'4 ,the well known ,bridge of ,sighs1 a work of no merit1 and of a late period 7see ,vol4 ,,ii4 p4 #cjd71 owing the interest it possesses chiefly to its pretty name1 and to the ignorant sentimentalism of ,byron4 ,,spirito ,,santo1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,of no importance4 ,,stefano1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,an interesting building of central ,gothic1 the best ecclesiastical example of it in ,venice4 ,the west entrance is much later than any of the rest1 and is of the richest ,renaissance ,gothic1 a little anterior to the ,porta della ,carta1 and first-rate of its kind4 ,the manner of the introduction of the figure of the angel at the top of the arch is full of beauty4 ,note the extravagant crockets and cusp finials as signs of decline4 ,,stefano1 ,,church ,,of ,,st41 at ,murano 7pugnacity of its abbot71 ,,ii4 #cc4 ,the church no longer exists4 ,,strope1 ,,campiello ,,della1 house in1 ,,ii4 #bff4 ,t ,,tana1 windows at the1 ,,ii4 #bfj4 ,,tiepolo1 ,,palazzo1 on the ,grand ,canal4 ,of no importance4 ,,tolentini1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,one of the basest and coldest works of the late ,renaissance4 ,it is said to contain two ,bonifazios4 ,,toma1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,of no importance4 ,,toma1 ,,ponte ,,san4 ,there is an interesting ancient doorway opening on the canal close to this bridge1 probably of the twelfth century1 and a good early ,gothic door1 opening upon the bridge itself4 ,,torcello1 general aspect of1 ,,ii4 #ab2 ,santa ,fosca at1 ,i4 #aag1 ,,ii4 #ac2 duomo1 ,,ii4 #ad2 mosaics of1 ,,ii4 #aif2 measures of1 ,,ii4 #cgh2 date of1 ,,ii4 #chj4 ,,trevisan1 ,,palazzo1 ,i4 #cfi1 ,,iii4 #bab4 ,,tron1 ,,palazzo4 ,of no importance4 ,,trovaso1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,itself of no importance1 but containing two pictures by ,tintoret1 namely3 #a4 ,the ,temptation of ,st4 ,anthony4 7,altar piece in the chapel on the left of the choir47 ,a small and very carefully finished picture1 but marvellously temperate and quiet in treatment1 especially considering the subject1 which one would have imagined likely to inspire the painter with one of his most fantastic visions4 ,as if on purpose to disappoint us1 both the effect1 and the conception of the figures1 are perfectly quiet1 and appear the result much more of careful study than of vigorous imagination4 ,the effect is one of plain daylight2 there are a few clouds drifting in the distance1 but with no wildness in them1 nor is there any energy or heat in the flames which mantle about the waist of one of the figures4 ,but for the noble workmanship1 we might almost fancy it the production of a modern academy2 yet as we begin to read the picture1 the painter's mind becomes felt4 ,st4 ,anthony is surrounded by four figures1 one of which only has the form of a demon1 and he is in the background1 engaged in no more terrific act of violence toward ,st4 ,anthony1 than endeavoring to pull off his mantle2 he has1 however1 a scourge over his shoulder1 but this is probably intended for ,st4 ,anthony's weapon of self-discipline1 which the fiend1 with a very ,protestant turn of mind1 is carrying off4 ,a broken staff1 with a bell hanging to it1 at the saint's feet1 also expresses his interrupted devotion4 ,the three other figures beside him are bent on more cunning mischief3 the woman on the left is one of ,tintoret's best portraits of a young and bright-eyed ,venetian beauty4 ,it is curious that he has given so attractive a countenance to a type apparently of the temptation to violate the power of poverty1 for this woman places one hand in a vase full of coins1 and shakes golden chains with the other4 ,on the opposite side of the saint1 another woman1 admirably painted1 but of a far less attractive countenance1 is a type of the lusts of the flesh1 yet there is nothing gross or immodest in her dress or gesture4 ,she appears to have been baffled1 and for the present to have given up addressing the saint3 she lays one hand upon her breast1 and might be taken for a very respectable person1 but that there are flames playing about her loins4 ,a recumbent figure on the ground is of less intelligible character1 but may perhaps be meant for ,indolence2 at all events1 he has torn the saint's book to pieces4 ,i forgot to note1 that under the figure representing ,avarice1 there is a creature like a pig2 whether actual pig or not is unascertainable1 for the church is dark1 the little light that comes on the picture falls on it the wrong way1 and one third of the lower part of it is hidden by a white case1 containing a modern daub1 lately painted by way of an altar piece2 the meaning1 as well as the merit1 of the grand old picture being now far beyond the comprehension both of priests and people4 #b4 ,the ,last ,supper4 7,on the left-hand side of the ,chapel of the ,sacrament47 ,a picture which has been through the hands of the ,academy1 and is therefore now hardly worth notice4 ,its conception seems always to have been vulgar1 and far below ,tintoret's usual standard2 there is singular baseness in the circumstance1 that one of the near ,apostles1 while all the others are1 as usual1 intent upon ,christ's words1 ,one of you shall betray me1 is going to help himself to wine out of a bottle which stands behind him4 ,in so doing he stoops towards the table1 the flask being on the floor4 ,if intended for the action of ,judas at this moment1 there is the painter's usual originality in the thought2 but it seems to me rather done to obtain variation of posture1 in bringing the red dress into strong contrast with the tablecloth4 ,the color has once been fine1 and there are fragments of good painting still left2 but the light does not permit these to be seen1 and there is too much perfect work of the master's in ,venice1 to permit us to spend time on retouched remnants4 ,the picture is only worth mentioning1 because it is ignorantly and ridiculously referred to by ,kugler as characteristic of ,tintoret4 ,v ,,vitali1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,said to contain a picture by ,vittor ,carpaccio1 over the high altar3 otherwise of no importance4 ,,volto ,,santo1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,an interesting but desecrated ruin of the fourteenth century2 fine in style4 ,its roof retains some fresco coloring1 but1 as far as ,i recollect1 of later date than the architecture4 ,z ,,zaccaria1 ,,church ,,of ,,st4 ,early ,renaissance1 and fine of its kind2 a ,gothic chapel attached to it is of great beauty4 ,it contains the best ,john ,bellini in ,venice1 after that of ,san ,g4 ,grisostomo1 ,the ,virgin1 with ,four ,saints2 and is said to contain another ,john ,bellini and a ,tintoret1 neither of which ,i have seen4 ,,zitelle1 ,,church ,,of ,,the4 ,of no importance4 ,,zobenigo1 ,,church ,,of ,,santa ,,maria1 ,,iii4 #abd4 ,it contains one valuable ,tintoret1 namely3 ,christ with ,sta4 ,justina and ,st4 ,augustin4 7,over the third altar on the south side of the nave47 ,a picture of small size1 and upright1 about ten feet by eight4 ,christ appears to be descending out of the clouds between the two saints1 who are both kneeling on the sea shore4 ,it is a ,venetian sea1 breaking on a flat beach1 like the ,lido1 with a scarlet galley in the middle distance1 of which the chief use is to unite the two figures by a point of color4 ,both the saints are respectable ,venetians of the lower class1 in homely dresses and with homely faces4 ,the whole picture is quietly painted1 and somewhat slightly2 free from all extravagance1 and displaying little power except in the general truth or harmony of colors so easily laid on4 ,it is better preserved than usual1 and worth dwelling upon as an instance of the style of the master when at rest4 ,,footnotes3 #ga ,am ,i in ,italy8 ,is this the ,mincius8 ,are those the distant turrets of ,verona8 ,and shall ,i sup where ,juliet at the ,masque ,saw her loved ,montague1 and now sleeps by him8 ,such questions hourly do ,i ask myself2 ,and not a stone in a crossway inscribed ',to ,mantua1' ',to ,ferrara1' but excites ,surprise1 and doubt1 and self-congratulation4 ,alas1 after a few short months1 spent even in the scenes dearest to history1 we can feel thus no more4 #gb ,i have always called this church1 in the text1 simply ,st4 ,john and ,paul1 not ,sts4 ,john and ,paul1 just as the ,venetians say ,san ,giovanni e ,paolo1 and not ,santi ,g41 c4 99 99 99 99 99 ,,corrections ,,made ,,to ,,the ,,original ,,text4 ,page #fi3 ',italian sarcophagi are kept massive1 smoth and gloomy' smoth corrected to smooth4 ,page #gd3 'fallen back peacefully uppon his pillow' uppon corrected to upon4 ,page #ajj3 'men's modes of life1 and tones of throught' throught changed to thought4 ,page #aba3 'breathed upon her beaaty1 until it melted away' beaaty corrected to beauty4 ,page #aeg3 'morbid action by terror1 accompained by the belief' accompained changed to accompanied4 ,page #bjg3 'finds him by a fountaiu side' fountaiu corrected to fountain4 ,page #bbb3 ',pietro di ,castello1 for the feast of ,st4 ,mary' ,mary changed to ,mark4 ,page #bcc3 ,number #b4 misplaced4 ,moved to 'a4 ,lower arcade1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi4' ,page #bcc3 ,missing #d4 added before 'a4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 central shaft1 upper arcade4' ,page #bcg3 'fourth order windows in ,campo ,sta4 ,ma ,mater ,domini' ,ma changed to ,ma4 ,page #bic3 'the usual inportant purposes of the modern ,italians4' inportant changed to important4 ,page #bid3 'not the slightest touch os it but is delicious4' os corrected to of4 ,page #cah3 'examine the two large tintorets' tintorets changed to ,tintorets4 ,page #cai3 ',mlaipiero1 ,palazzo1 on the ,campo ,st4 ,m4 ,formosa4' ,mlaipiero corrected to ,malipiero4 ,page #ceh3 'drift of its clouds1 and originalty and complication4' originalty corrected to originality4