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 RECULATI^^^NS. 
 
 8819 
 
THE ANTEFIX PAPERS. 
 
 PAPERS 
 
 Art Educational Subjects, 
 
 REi^D AT THE WEEKLY MEETINGS OF THE 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS AI[T Mjm^ ASSOCpON, 
 
 BY MEMBERS AND OTHERS CONNECTED WITH THE 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS NORMAL ART SCHOOL. 
 
 PRINTED 
 
 BOSTON: 
 FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION. 
 1875- 
 
COPYRIGHT. 
 MASSACHUSETTS ART TEACHERS' ASSOCIATION. 
 1875. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 ALFRED MUDGB AND SON, PRINTERS. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The papers here collected were written by many earnest workers in a 
 cause which is becoming every day more important in the eyes of Americans. 
 Knowing my deep interest in that cause, the members of the Massachusetts 
 Art Teachers' Association have charged me with the task of writing a short 
 Preface to their volume, which I have accepted, though quite aware of its 
 special difficulties. 
 
 To write a preface for a book of one's own, or for a book written by one 
 author, either of which is likely to be uniform in thought and style, would 
 have been far easier. Seven cities claimed to have given birth to Homer, 
 though the right belonged to one only ; but here are twenty authors who 
 claim to have produced one book, and each with reason. Add to this all the 
 authors whom they have separately consulted, as being therefore rightful 
 claimants to a share of authorship, and the amount becomes difficult to 
 calculate. We know of one marble group made by three Rhodian sculptors 
 in ancient times, and we read of one statue constructed after the Egyptian 
 canon at a still earlier time, by two Greek sculptors, dimidium dimidiumque, 
 and this so perfectly, that when the two halves were brought together, they 
 fitted exactly. So also we have modern landscapes painted by two artists, 
 this one having put in the trees, skies, and water, and the other the figures ; 
 and we have books, such as the novels of Erckmann and Chatrian, and 
 histories of art such as that of Crowe and Cavalcaselle. But these are 
 very simple examples of the division of labor compared to this furnished by 
 the Antefix Papers, whose authors and ante-authors, like the loves of Don 
 Giovanni, number " cento e tre." 
 
 Taking into account that authors are proverbially sensitive, it is important 
 to decide how to speak for them collectively to the public, so as to content 
 them all. I look in vain for a guiding precedent. Dr. Daniel Dove, who 
 catalogues and defines all sorts of prefaces possible to be written, had evi- 
 dently never heard of such a case. He defines the abject preface, in which 
 the author appears with a halter round his neck, deprecating criticism, — a 
 style of procedure not suited to my purpose ; for how can I be sure that my 
 clients are all disposed to be represented in so humble an attitude ? The 
 doctor furthermore explains the blustering preface, in which the author 
 
iv 
 
 Preface, 
 
 endeavors to terrify the critics into silence by putting a bold face on the mat- 
 ter, and threatening to make an end of them if they refuse their approval. 
 This sort of preface seems hardly more appropriate, considering that many of 
 the authors of this book, and perhaps all, are gentle people, who have labored 
 to the best of their ability, and only ask their readers to judge the result 
 kindly. 
 
 * The best preface to the volume will perhaps be the simple statement, that 
 it has been printed, not published, for the use of its authors, and of students 
 like themselves who needed information in a compact form, on a variety of 
 technical processes. It is a student's book, intended to be useful rather than 
 ornamental. But I hear a wide-awake critic say, " If this be so, its title is 
 a misnomer." An antefix is an ornamental tile of marble or terra-cotta, 
 placed on the top of a cornice or under the eaves of a temple, at the end of a 
 ridge of tiling. Quite right I answer, but the lions' heads carved on the 
 upper mouldings of a cornice, to serve as spouts to carry off water, were 
 also called " antefixae." They served a useful purpose like these papers, 
 which occupy a modest place outside the Temple of Art, and carry off the 
 waters of accumulated study to fertilize waste places. 
 
 And now, a word about the why and how they were written. Their subjects 
 were entered by the supervisor of the Normal Art Training School, upon the 
 examination list for the end of the second year. The information needed 
 by each student, being scattered in the pages of many books, could only be 
 obtained by a great amount of reading. Time was wanting for each one to 
 study up all the subjects, so that it was wisely decided to divide the labor by 
 allotting one subject to one person, who, having accomplished his task, should 
 read a paper upon it before the Massachusetts Art Teachers' Association 
 for the common benefit. The wish was then expressed that all the papers 
 should be collected and printed, so that they might serve a future as well as 
 a present use. 
 
 Now that the reader has learnt how this book came into being, he will 
 doubtless be inclined to regard it with interest. It is, indeed, entitled to 
 consideration, not only because it contains a great deal of valuable and well- 
 condensed information, but also because it is the work of men and women 
 meanwhile laboring, under every disadvantage, to fit themselves to be art 
 teachers. When we think of the palatial halls in the Normal Schools at Vi- 
 enna, or of the admirably adapted rooms in which art students work in many 
 European and English cities, with proper ventilation, good light, and plenty 
 of space, — three primal necessities, without which the best powers cannot be 
 called into play, and know that even these are denied to the students at Pem- 
 berton Square ; when we remember how their fellows abroad have not only 
 such physical and material advantages, but that they are also surrounded 
 with an abundant supply of the best casts, solid models, drawings, photo- 
 graphs, and reproductions of all kinds, and that they live where they may at 
 any moment profit by the splendid works of art collected in such industrial 
 museums as those at South Kensington, Vienna, Nuremberg, or Munich, and 
 
Preface, 
 
 V 
 
 in such galleries as the Louvre, the National Gallery, the British Museum, 
 the Uffizi, or the Pitti Palace, we wonder, not only that our Boston students 
 have accomplished so much, but that they have accomplished anything at all. 
 So far from apologizing for what they have not done, we are filled with admi- 
 ration for what they have done, and wish them God-speed. They have 
 proved once more the truth of that most encouraging of all Latin sayings, 
 " Nihil est quod non expugnet pertinax opera et intenta ac diligens cura," — 
 a saying which all know in its well-worn English rendering, " Patience and 
 perseverance conquer all things." 
 
 c. c. p. 
 
 Boston, June 30, 1875. 
 
f 
 
 % 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Greatness of Great Men. Walter Smith i 
 
 II. Fresco, Encaustic, etc. Chas. C. Perkins i8 
 
 III. Color. — The Origin of Pigments and their Chemical 
 
 Action 32 
 
 IV. Harmony and Contrast of Color 41 
 
 V. Harmony and Contrast of Color {Continued) 46 
 
 VI. The Application of Principles of Design to Cast Metal 
 
 Objects 51 
 
 VII. Design as applied to Wrought Metal 56 
 
 VIII. Design applied to Carved Objects 66 
 
 IX. Design applied to Printed Fabrics 72 
 
 X. Principles of Design as applied to Woven Fabrics. — 
 
 Colored Materials 75 
 
 XI. Flat or Surface Decoration 91 
 
 XII. Water-Color Painting 98 
 
 XIII. Tempera Painting 105 
 
 XIV. Fresco Painting 109 
 
 XV. Oil Painting 116 
 
 XVI. Technical Terms 122 
 
 XVII. Structural Botany 124 
 
 XVIII. Botany as applied to Industrial Art 135 
 
 XIX. Application of Ornament to Industrial Purposes .... 141 
 
 XX. Ornament as applied to Industrial Purposes 150 
 
 XXI. Reproductive Processes 157 
 
 XXII. The Application of Photography to Engraving .... 162 
 
 XXIII. Glass — Cast, Cut, and Engraved 168 
 
 XXIV. Pottery and Porcelain 173 
 
 XXV. Historical Ornament 179 
 
 XXVI. Historical Ornament. — Middle Age Styles 185 
 
 XXVII. Historical Ornament {Continued) 193 
 
 XXVIII. Historic Schools of Painting down to the Seventeenth 
 
 Century 199 
 
 XXIX. Historic Schools of Painting {Continued) 212 
 
 XXX. Charcoal Drawing. Wm. R. Ware 223 
 
SOME OF THE AUTHORITIES 
 
 CONSULTED IN THE PKEPARATION OF THESE PAPERS. 
 
 The Grammar of Ornament. By Owen Jones. 
 Polychromatic Ornament. By Racinet. 
 
 Epochs of Painting and Analysis of Ornament. By Wornum. 
 Vasari's Lives. 
 
 Kiigler's Geschichte der Kunst. 
 
 Field's Chromotography (old and new edition). 
 
 Ure's Dictionary of Arts and Manufactures. 
 
 Masury's Manual of Painting. 
 
 Dresser's Principles of Decorative Design, 
 
 Principles of Design. By Garbett. 
 
 Art Education. By Walter Smith. 
 
 The Works of Ruskin. 
 
 Chevreul on Color. 
 
 Chambers's Encyclopaedia. 
 
 Scott's History and Practice of the Fine and Ornamental Arts, 
 
 Wonders of Engraving. By George Duplessis. 
 
 The World of Science, Art, and Industry, 1853. 
 
 The History of Lace. By Mrs. Bury Palliser. 
 
 Chefs d' CEuvre of Industrial Arts. By Philippe Burty. 
 
 Fine Art : a Sketch of Its History, etc. By M. DiGBY Wyatt. 
 
 Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities. 
 
 Iconographic Encyclopaedia of Science and Art. By J. G. Heck. 
 
 The Report on Fresco Painting to the Commissioners of Fine Arts. By 
 
 Chas. H. Wilson. 
 Mrs. Merrifield's Art of Fresco Painting. 
 D 'Anvers's Elementary History of Art. 
 Timbs's Painting and Progress of Art. 
 Goodwin's Mural Decoration. 
 
 A Treatise on Painting. By Cennino Cennini. Translated by Mrs. Mer- 
 rifield. 
 
 Scott's Half Hour Lectures on Art. 
 Redgrave on Color, etc. 
 
 Hints on Household Taste. By Chas. L, Eastlake. 
 Metal Work. By M. Digby Wyatt. 
 
THE GREATNESS OF GREAT MEN. 
 
 The position which I occupy in this school prevents my giving individual 
 instruction in it ; that is the duty of the professors and regular instructors, 
 and my duty lies in directing their work and judging of its results by exam- 
 ining the works of the students. It is recognized that the teacher cannot 
 also be the judge, and as I am employed here to be the latter, I cannot be 
 also the former. 
 
 My lectures to you, therefore, are on general topics, not on details of 
 your education, rather on principles which will affect all the question. I have 
 been accustomed to lecture in this way to the students of the Normal Art 
 School, of which I was the principal before coming to reside in this country. 
 One lecture given to them was on " the greatness of great men," and that is 
 what I propose to give to you to-day. 
 
 I shall not apologize to you because all its incidents are English, for you 
 belong to the same race as the men talked about. Though I am not 
 an American, I don't consider myself a foreigner here. We are all Anglo- 
 Saxons, under whatever sun or form of government. In England, an 
 American or Australian is never described as a foreigner, though born thou- 
 sands of miles away ; yet a Frenchman or Belgian, who lives thirty miles off 
 across the channel, is always a foreigner. The Australian government is as 
 different from the English as is the American, but the people are of one race ; 
 and an Englishman in London who spoke of an Australian as a foreigner, 
 would inevitably be reproved, and deservedly. 
 
 This statement now made, is not made for the purpose of bidding for pop- 
 ularity, or to impress you with the belief that I wish to assume a relationship 
 to you I am not entitled to. When American ideas are strong enough to 
 turn me into an American, they can do it, but meanwhile I shall neither help 
 nor hinder the transformation. You must therefore regard this lecture as 
 having been made to inspire with some right ideas the art students of whose 
 education I had the charge before the invitation was given me to come here. 
 Four years of residence here have not changed my opinions, nor altered histor- 
 ical facts ; and I therefore submit to you the lecture I am about to give, as 
 being as applicable to you as it was to your representatives across the water. 
 
 The subject I have chosen to lecture upon to you to-night is one that is 
 
2 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 difficult to talk sensibly about for the space of an hour and a half, and I hope 
 if what I have to say should prove too lamentably the truth of this state- 
 ment, you will extend to me your kindly indulgence, and regard my efforts 
 only as a dry preface to a delightful study, a sort of rude finger-post, point- 
 ing the way where there are pleasant paths and mental pastures ever fragrant 
 and fresh. 
 
 That which has engaged the most loving literary efforts of many great 
 writers and thinkers, who even in the pithiest and tersest manner have written 
 volumes upon the subject, either as discourses on Representative Men, or 
 lectures on heroes and hero-worship, cannot be more than lightly touched 
 upon by me in a lecture of ninety minutes ; but if I can awaken in you an 
 interest which prompts you to become more intimately acquainted with the true 
 greatness of great men, neither your time nor mine will have been wholly 
 wasted. 
 
 It is said that a man may be known by the company he keeps ; and if there 
 is any truth in this statement, it will be well for us to keep the very best com- 
 pany, not only physically, but mentally and spiritually also, not necessarily 
 for the purposes of imitation, for no man can imitate another if he has much 
 character of his own, but rather that there may be for us high standards of 
 excellence supporting that which may be good in us, to counteract evil 
 examples with which we are continually surrounded, and which are calculated 
 to develop the faults and weaknesses of our nature, the earthiness that we all 
 have. 
 
 For these reasons I have thought that you might not object to consider 
 with me the characteristics of some noble and great men of past ages, or 
 even of the present age, for the race is happily not yet extinct, convinced that 
 even if I tell you nothing that is new, I may be able at least to tell you some- 
 thing that is true. 
 
 At the outset arises the question, What is greatness ? which reminds us of 
 the Philosopher's introduction to an essay on Truth. 
 
 "'What is Truth,' said jesting Pilate, and waited not for an answer," — 
 and the probability is that had Pilate stopped to discuss the question with his 
 would-be teacher, they would have hopelessly differed on the subject under 
 discussion beginning at the definition of Truth. And Truth itself does seem 
 to be to us merely the measure of our knowledge and not a fixed quantity ; 
 for in the time of Joshua people believed that the sun did not stand still, a 
 belief which has for some years been ridiculed through the discovery of later 
 Philosophers that the sun is a stationary body ; and now that many strong- 
 minded persons have scoffed at the Holy Scriptures because of Joshua's 
 command to the sun to stand still, the last generation of Philosophers have 
 in a more recent age discovered that the sun is not stationary, but moves in 
 its own orbit, as it did in the time of Joshua. 
 
 There may be an equal difference of opinion as to what is and what is not 
 greatness amongst ourselves, just as doctors and philosophers disagree ; and 
 it is certain that successive generations of men hold very different opinions 
 concerning the men who have preceded them. We should not in this age 
 
The Greatness of Great Men. 
 
 3 
 
 hang the dead body of Cromwell upon the tree at Tyburn, nor burn the bones 
 of Wycliffe forty years after they were buried. But the men who did these 
 things were lovers of truth and greatness, though terribly in earnest, and 
 believed that they were meting out righteous retribution to the carrion they 
 destroyed ; whilst some of us now should regard their hanging and burning 
 as the acts of savage fanatics towards two great men, who were in advance 
 of the age which so treated them. 
 
 Perhaps on the debatable ground of poHtics and religion men differ about 
 their leaders through their feehngs and passions ; if they disagreed only 
 through their reason or knowledge, they might differ without quarrelling and 
 be willing to recognize greatness, even when the stamp of it was not of their 
 own trade-mark. 
 
 I will ask you to consider the different ways in which greatness manifests 
 itself to us. — It may be, 
 
 ist. The possession of ordinary human faculties or accomplishments in 
 an extraordinary degree of development ; or — 
 
 2d. The possession of uncommon faculties or accomplishments ; or — 
 
 3d. The possession of an unusual combination of characteristics, admi- 
 rable in themselves. 
 
 And it may be asserted broadly that the final test by which greatness is to 
 be judged, is that it has been exercised for the instruction, wholesome 
 pleasure, or happiness and benefit of mankind ; if it does not stand that test 
 it descends from the rank of true greatness and becomes merely local impor- 
 tance, temporary popularity, fashionable homage of the day or the hour, 
 party prominence or sectarian distinction, all of which are as the grass which 
 withereth and the flower that fadeth. 
 
 No age is competent to decide on the greatness of living men, — Time alone 
 which tests their work can do that, — for time, like another ordeal of which 
 we are sometimes reminded by our pastors and masters, tries the work of all 
 men, as it were, by fire, out of which some of it comes a mere handful of 
 black ashes which the winds of heaven scatter in undistinguishable atoms, so 
 that the place thereof shall know them no more ; whilst the work of great 
 men will be like the vases of the Etruscan potter, — the redder the fire 
 glows, the harder becomes the metal and the brighter the colors ; and the more 
 the furnace is heated, the more permanently is the work preserved to a dis- 
 tant posterity of admirers. 
 
 Thus you will see that I regard the element of greatness in great men as a 
 different thing altogether to the greatness of great sinners, or the largeness 
 of big bodies ; which are either intensity of habit, or magnitude in the aggre- 
 gation of atoms. 
 
 It is not of necessity importance or distinction, for many important and 
 distinguished men will never be considered great. George the Fourth was 
 a distinguished and Lord Palmerston was an important personage, and neither 
 will ever be considered great. 
 
 Nor is it often allied to perfection of life or manners, for the greatest men 
 have been fallible, very human in their weaknesses, and sometimes very simple. 
 
4 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Neither does popularity, however intense, give us sign or proof of great- 
 ness ; least of all will the most exalted dignity of official position, or the 
 profoundest depths of learning, give a man right of themselves to the title of 
 a great man. 
 
 The importance to us of great men is that they fix a standard of excellence, 
 show us what is possible. That which common men attempt, great men 
 attain ; therefore it behooves us to study their characters, that we may, if 
 possible, learn the secret of their success. What is this secret t 
 
 The secret of great men is that there is no secret at all, and this is a secret 
 which, though proclaimed upon the house-tops before multitudes of hearers, 
 will then always be believed to be a secret, and for no better reason than that 
 it is the easiest and most plausible way of explaining the ditference that we 
 see to exist between ourselves and those we acknowledge to be great. If we 
 would fairly and honestly take to the acknowledgment also, that whilst we 
 have slept great men have worked, whilst we have been self-indulgent and 
 prone to luxury, they have been self-denying and inured to hardships, we 
 should lose something in the good opinion we have of ourselves, but we 
 should gain a great deal in self-knowledge, and dispel a mystery which should 
 be no mystery at all. 
 
 There seems to be common elements of character in all great men, almost 
 the identical basis of character in one as in the other, the different vocations 
 explaining any minor differences that are to be found in them. 
 
 Thus, I find precisely the same features in the characters of Michael 
 Angelo and the Duke of Wellington, two men living three centuries apart, 
 in different countries, one a great artist and the other a great warrior. In 
 them, as in every instance I have yet studied, the distinguishing feature is 
 an intense love of work, — work of the kind that fell to the lot of each to do. 
 Another feature is indomitable courage, and the last is a never-dying 
 perseverance. 
 
 Though I have carefully studied the histories of many of the greatest men, 
 in order, if I could, to discover the source of their greatness, I have never 
 yet come upon one great life that has lacked these three features, — love of 
 work, unfailing courage, perseverance. 
 
 And this leads me to express the opinion that the only reliable sign or indi- 
 cation of genius is eagerness for and love of work, as a basis ; and whether 
 this genius will ever become developed to maturity will depend greatly upon 
 V the other two features, — courage and perseverance, — though, of course, 
 something depends upon health. 
 
 It is undoubted that both in literature and art the greatest have been the 
 most prolific, that is, have been the greatest workers before they became the 
 greatest men ; and had they not been the greatest workers the world would 
 never have known them as the greatest men. 
 
 I was struck with the happy way in which this truth was put, in a quotation 
 from an article by Andrew Halliday, which I will reproduce, as bearing upon 
 the question. 
 
 " There is no royal road to literary success. Don't imagine because some 
 
The Greatfiess of Great Men. 
 
 5 
 
 writer suddenly attains to fame that he has achieved it by a single coup. 
 Make inquiries, and you will find in every case — there is scarcely an excep- 
 tion to this rule — that the author who suddenly bursts upon your view a star 
 of the first magnitude has been working and learning and strugghng — may- 
 hap starving — for years, qualifying himself by practice, sometimes in the 
 very humblest walks of literature. Mr. Dickens was famous at three-and- 
 twenty, but for many years before his celebrated sketches were accepted 
 by the ' Morning Chronicle,' he had been qualifying himself for authorship 
 by constant practice as a reporter on newspapers. While yet a boy he had 
 led a life of close apphcation and drudgery. He had mastered the difficult 
 art of shorthand writing. Before he became a great author he was one of 
 the most accomphshed shorthand writers on the press. Mr. Thackeray had 
 reached middle age before he made himself known to the public. He had 
 tried and tried again, first with his pencil, then with his pen, and had felt the 
 smart of many failures. After he became famous as a novelist he tried his 
 hand at a play, which, though indorsed with the great name of Thackeray, 
 no manager would accept — because it was not actable. John Philip ground 
 colors and painted signboards before his pictures reached the line in the 
 Royal Academy." 
 
 Another feature which seems equally common to great men of all ranks 
 and professions, is that failure does not discourage them. There is a certain 
 amount of failure to be gone through in everything before success becomes 
 a matter of certainty. Unless we exhaust the sources of failure a supply will 
 always be ready to our hand, and if we set down with tearful eyes and lamen- 
 tations surrounded by our mistakes and overwhelmed by them, we shall 
 never rise above them, so that courage and perseverance are also necessary to 
 greatness, — whilst failures and mistakes are just as much characteristic of 
 greatness in the first stages, as of littleness, — only greatness perseveres 
 and overcomes, whilst littleness loses heart and fails. 
 
 When George Stephenson undertook to make a railway across Chat Moss, 
 a swampy bog which swallowed everything that was put upon it, most of the 
 engineers of the day said it never could be done. Stephenson, who under- 
 took to do it, showed by his undertaking the work that he had decided it 
 could be done. He commenced by throwing in thousands of tons of dry 
 rubbish, which seemed to sink down and settle apparently oat of sight, without 
 in the least degree affecting the solidity of the mass. It seemed like throw- 
 ing a handful of sand in a bucketful of water ; and whilst overlookers and 
 foremen and directors of the railway watched in despair, other engineers 
 chuckled with delight that at last the Newcastle pitman had been beaten. 
 He was urged to abandon the project as impossible ; but great men don't do 
 that sort of thing, and Stephenson was a great man. He went on with the 
 result inevitable to perseverance and knowledge ; the swamp was made into 
 a good road, and was afterwards considered the strongest and safest part of 
 the line. 
 
 Here was a case where the wheeling of a few extra barrowfuls of earth 
 made the difference between success and failure ; only it took the heart of a 
 
6 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 great man to do it, — the difference between greatness and littleness, — for a 
 less man than Stephenson would have abandoned the project, as everybody 
 except himself was willing and anxious to do, but he was made of a different 
 material to them, and that material triumphed over Chat Moss. 
 
 In what does the greatness of Turner show itself, the greatest by far of 
 English artists ? Broadly we may say that his superiority is seen in two 
 things : his marvellous powers of execution, which showed his success as a 
 workman ; and, secondly, his power of imagination. 
 
 Now, how is his superiority in the process of painting explained ? I think if it 
 be remembered that no English artist ever covered so much surface of canvas 
 and paper as he did, or left behind him so many studies of effects or sketches 
 of pictures, it seems to me we need go no further to inquire why he was a 
 perfect workman. The explanation is that he was always at work. 
 
 Then as to his imagination. Imagination is simply the power of realizing 
 in the mind something which does not or has not existed, based upon a 
 knowledge of that which either has existed, does, or may exist. Imagination 
 has the same relation to knowledge as the flower has to the seed. 
 
 Now, if a man's knowledge, as shown in his multitude of works, be almost 
 perfect, his imagination, based on his knowledge, comes to be great also ; 
 and thus we have Turner's second characteristic springing out of his first 
 imagination from knowledge, and knowledge from labor. The labor came 
 first. As a youth Turner would do anything pictorially for anybody who 
 would pay him for his work. An architect wished a sky washed in a per- 
 spective drawing, and sent it to a lad named Turner, who would do it for five 
 shillings. A stationer had an order to tint a map, and the barber's son was 
 ready and willing to color it for eighteenpence, with sixpence extra for colors. 
 Then when the sky-painting business increased, and skies in his hands 
 became more celestial, prices rose, and Turner's heavens became costly. A 
 neighbor who came to father Turner's shop to be shaved, would ask whether 
 Joe could not clean and brighten up a little picture which had got out of 
 order. The barber could not tell, but would call his son down, and the labo- 
 rious youth would be called from his attic den to examine the picture or draw- 
 ing. Oh, yes, young Turner could do it, or anything he could learn something 
 from and make a shilling by. 
 
 Then came drawing for the illustrated books, which was a mine of wealth 
 to him. Then pictures and colored drawings began to be produced, not in 
 twos or threes, but in scores and hundreds, whether there were purchasers or 
 not, some bad, some indifferent, and some good. Still and forever working 
 and progressing, he ended a career, begun in obscurity, terminated in world- 
 wide celebrity, starting in comparative poverty, finishing by leaving nearly a 
 quarter of a million of money sterling to his nation or his fellow-craftsmen, 
 and a reputation that will live as long as civilization lasts and pictures remain. 
 
 I take this instance of an artist, having the greatest technical skill and the 
 subhmest of imaginations, to show the young people here how a genius is made. 
 The usual theory is that if he be an artist he is born with a palette on his 
 thumb, at once producing pictures which astonish the world, and that he is a 
 
The Greatness of Great Men, 
 
 7 
 
 very lucky individual for whom nature does so much. Nature, as a matter of 
 fact, did very little indeed for Turner ; gave him a very insignificant body, no 
 position in life to start with, no great or brilliant prospects in the succession 
 to a hair-cutting business ; but it did give him what it has given to most of 
 us, the opportunity to work as hard as we like, and he seized the opportunity. 
 The five-shilling skies and the two-shilling maps were all opportunities, and 
 he took them, and, doing them honestly, — most likely a good deal better than 
 he was paid for, — they bore him on to triumph. 
 
 Now, what nature did for Turner (and in very many cases much more) 
 nature has done for us, and it rests with ourselves whether our work, honestly 
 done, shall end as his work ended, or whether it shall end insignificantly. The 
 only difference is whether we will work eight hours a day or three. We 
 settle that, not nature. I find that in one command is contained all the 
 injunctions to those who would achieve a great life. It is this : " Whatsoever 
 thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might." 
 
 It is not the nature of your work, nor the importance socially or pecuni- 
 arily of your trade or profession, that will give you the opportunity or means 
 of living a great and noble life ; for there are noodles in every calling, however 
 important, and nobles in every occupation, however insignificant. The man 
 dignifies or degrades the ofiice, the office does neither to the man. 
 
 There is absolutely no employment which may not be made the means of 
 arriving at success in life ; there is none which cannot be degraded into fail- 
 ure. The only stipulation is that your hands shall have found the work to 
 do and that it shall be done with your might, — not with your inclinations 
 only, nor with faltering hands and timid hearts, but with might, and might 
 means strength of hand and strength of heart, skill and courage combined in 
 one strong word. 
 
 It is, perhaps, one of the most notable features of greatness that it is 
 almost invariably accompanied by modesty. Great knowledge introduces us 
 not only to the secrets of learning, but to the depths of our ignorance, and 
 the man who has discovered the profundity of his ignorance must have 
 advanced very far into the region of knowledge. 
 
 It was Sir Isaac Newton, one of the greatest of Englishmen, who was con- 
 gratulated at the close of a life of brilliant discoveries on his great achieve- 
 ments, and his answer is the answer of a man who by going further than 
 other men had discovered the depths of his own ignorance. " Sir," he re- 
 plied in answer to the compliment, " I feel that I have been like a little child 
 playing with the pebbles on the margin of the ocean, whilst the great voyage 
 of discovery is yet to be made," 
 
 Michael Angelo, who was sculptor, painter, architect, engineer, and poet, 
 and take him for all in all the greatest artist the world has ever produced, 
 was discovered when he was more than eighty years of age studying a frag- 
 ment of ancient sculpture in a ruined building at Rome. He was reverently 
 asked by a friend who observed him, what was the nature of his inquiries 1 
 " Signor," he answered, " I am studying my profession." This was the 
 modest reply of a man who as a sculptor, as a draughtsman, or as an architect 
 
8 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 had not been equalled in his own time, and who though three centuries have 
 rolled on since his death, has not yet been equalled even up to this day. 
 
 And this leads me to say, that no matter what our pursuit may be, at the 
 moment we arrive at satisfaction with ourselves, we die. If the doing of 
 anything has not so improved us that we could do it infinitely better if we 
 did it again, and feel both the power and the desire, life itself, the principle 
 of development and progress, is dead within us ; and those who have been 
 improved must necessarily feel dissatisfied with their own works, and this 
 dissatisfaction induces modesty. It is only complete little nobodies who 
 fancy their work complete, who beheve they have nothing to learn and can- 
 not be wrong. Such people do not fancy themselves children on the sea- 
 shore playing with pebbles, nor do they study their professions after they 
 have passed the eightieth year of their age, although they have neither dis- 
 covered the theory of gravitation nor built the cathedral of Saint Peter. 
 
 No better illustration of the perseverance of great men can be given than 
 that of Sir Isaac Newton when his MSS. were destroyed. By some mis- 
 chance his favorite dog Beauty was shut in Sir Isaac's study. The papers 
 and MSS. containing his calculations and discoveries in science yet unpub- 
 lished, the laborious and priceless work of three years of severest application, 
 were arranged on the table, near to the student's lamp, whose midnight oil 
 shed a glimmering light on the precious documents. In his efforts to escape, 
 Beauty overturned the lamp and the papers catching fire were all reduced to 
 ashes. Sir Isaac found his three years' work had disappeared, leaving no 
 fragment behind of the abstruse calculations and hard-earned triumphs. Did 
 he give way to despair and abandon his inquiries ? No. He made but one 
 reproachful speech, " Oh, Beauty, Beauty, thou knowest not what thou hast 
 done," and then sat down to commence over again from the far distant begin- 
 ning, the years of work that an accident had destroyed. 
 
 That was true greatness, having every feature of it, — work, courage, and 
 perseverance. 
 
 My ideal of greatness among soldiers is drawn from the Duke of Welling- 
 ton, one of a very small number of men whom the profession of killing has 
 left respectable. 
 
 If a man under extreme necessity has extremely dirty work to do, such as 
 the slaughtering of conscript Frenchmen, or annihilating one of the Hill 
 tribes of India, it is some credit if he does it without feelings of passion or 
 revenge, and comes out of it as little demoralized as is possible, with as few 
 of the Ten Commandments broken besides the sixth, as was practicable. 
 
 The conduct of the Duke in the Peninsular War proves him truly a great 
 man. It is stated that during those troubled times the English army was so 
 well managed when in France that the French peasants, in fear of the rapine 
 and license prevailing among their own mihtary countrymen, would carry 
 their property for protection within the English lines. And though when in 
 Spain the English soldiers were regarded as the saviours of the country, and 
 might in return for the hardships and fighting undertaken, expect to be 
 allowed to make themselves somewhat at home, yet there were actually fewer 
 
The Greatness of Great Men. 
 
 9 
 
 offences of a civil character among the victorious English soldiers than there 
 w^ould have been had they been at home in barracks. All this was due to the 
 Duke's personal influence, his greatness, for true greatness may be shown in 
 little things. Then again, when occupying Paris as a conqueror, together 
 with Blucher, the Prussian General wanted to blow up a few of the bridges, 
 and in other ways write the lesson of humiliation upon the French capital in 
 rather large letters, — capital letters, we might say, — Wellington would not 
 allow a single act of revenge. But he took the opportunity of having the 
 pictures, statuary, and other works of art, which Napoleon had pillaged from 
 the various capitals of Europe, returned to their rightful owners. 
 
 So scrupulous was the grand old English warrior about his conduct, that at 
 one time during the great war in Spain, when he had been most disgracefully 
 left without pecuniary supplies by the squabbling ministry at home, he got 
 behind in payments for his commissariat — the food and shelter of his men. 
 This distressed him exceedingly, and his appeals for money from England 
 were constant. In one of them he said that he was almost afraid to go out 
 of camp for fear of being dunned. Imagine the commander-in-chief of the 
 army that was saving Spain being dunned by Spanish butchers, grocers, and 
 bakers ! 
 
 Such conduct as this goes far to make even war respectable. But observe 
 it was not his office that made Wellington great, it was his principle. He 
 was sent to stop a great French thief in his career of robbery, and he 
 accepted the business. It was not to be expected of him, then, that he would 
 allow his own countrymen to turn thieves on a small scale in a foreign coun- 
 try ; and when he himself found he had been feeding his men and could not 
 pay for their food, he suffered the pangs of conscience. Luckily the supplies 
 from home came, and the credit of the English army rose, and with it the 
 spirits of its commander-in-chief. 
 
 If this alone were told to me of one man, and the pillaging of picture- 
 galleries of another, I should at once say, " The greatest of those two men is 
 the man who pays his way and does n't steal." It is possible that Napoleon 
 may have won more battles than Wellington, it is certain that he lost more ; 
 it is possible that Napoleon killed more men than Wellington, but did he save 
 more lives ? Wellington fighting against Napoleon, and conquering him, was 
 saving the lives of thousands of Frenchmen who would have been duly sac- 
 rificed by their Emperor to the lust of war. 
 
 But of Wellington how different is the tale ! After a battle was won the 
 most dreadful thing to him was to hear read a list of the killed and wounded 
 among his own men ; and several instances are recorded of this man, who 
 was called "the Iron Duke," when the cost in human Hfe of a battle was 
 made known to him, crying passionately at the dreadful sacrifice. Yet if ever 
 a war was defensible, that war which was engaged in to stop the career of an 
 European thief was righteous. Nevertheless some people still say Napoleon 
 was a great man. Do you suppose that a man who stole pictures, the precious 
 heirlooms of a country's greatness, as Napoleon did, ever was scrupulous 
 about stealing meat and drink and bread, or about stealing human life A 
 
 2 
 
10 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 thief takes that which comes in his way, that which he wants, and neither 
 the independence of a nation, nor the property of cities, nor the lives of its 
 inhabitants, are beneath the pilfering wants of a very big thief Napoleon 
 took all. 
 
 This is what I meant at the beginning of my lecture by saying that great- 
 ness, in my opinion, did not mean the same thing as the greatness of great 
 sinners. That is an altogether spurious greatness, which bears the same 
 relation to the real thing as shoddy does to broadcloth. It may have a grand 
 appearance, but it has no staple ; it may look well, but it does not wear well. 
 There is more cloth than dinner, as Yorkshiremen wisely say ; and what din- 
 ner there is does not agree with us, but leaves a bad taste in our mouths, a 
 doctor's bill to pay, and penitence as a reward. 
 
 I have before remarked that the mere acquisition of great skill and its 
 possession, does not of itself make men great ; it only furnishes them with 
 the means to achieve greatness, and proves their undoubted capacity. The 
 final test is the use to which either their knowledge or skill is applied. Thus, 
 the most accompHshed surgeon may be the instrument of life or death ; a 
 great writer may elevate the tastes of a nation, whilst an equally able writer 
 may deprave its tastes, and this use of his skill excludes him from the ranks 
 of greatness ; a great warrior may, by his very victories, save human life, as 
 Wellington did, whilst a warrior of more genius, as it is sometimes said, like 
 Napoleon, is simply a cut-throat in an extensive way of business. 
 
 That which constitutes the difference in these cases is the uses and pur- 
 poses to which great accomplishments are applied. I regard the accumula- 
 tion of money by any individual, through his own exertions or skill, if he has 
 done it with clean hands, as a sign of great powers ; but the use he makes of 
 his money is the sole test of his human character worth having. If he simply 
 possesses vast resources, he is rich only ; if he considers himself as the 
 steward of those riches, for the advancement of happiness and righteousness, 
 he is wealthy also, for he is one who has regard for the common weal, and 
 who fosters it. In the most exalted of all vocations, that of statesmanship, 
 a man with the ripest experience and most brilliant powers may either consider 
 or originate measures for the advancement of a nation, rising above all tram- 
 mels of party, interests of clique or class, or benefit of the few ; or he may 
 survey all his privileges and opportunities as means for furthering his own 
 position or that of his friends, of lowering his political opponents, and tri- 
 umphing in the possession of power. 
 
 It is not difficult to see on which side lies true greatness in that case. 
 
 And this brmgs me to consider the different kinds of greatness in sub- 
 divisions. It may be moral, intellectual, or professional, though from what I 
 have before said, you will gather that I regard intellectual or professional 
 greatness more in the light of trade skill, unless accompanied by the element 
 of moral worth. It is only when all three are combined that we have the 
 highest order of men. 
 
 First, of moral greatness. 
 
 In this dilapidated old world, there have been, and still are, I hope, many 
 
The Greatness of Gi'eat Men. 
 
 II 
 
 instances of moral greatness among men, though I do believe it is to be 
 found much more frequently among women than men. 
 
 We live in an age of change ; it is the fashion, and alterations are some- 
 times mistaken for novelty. The nineteenth century is one of scientific dis- 
 covery and artistic revival, and pre-eminently a fast a'ge. The one great 
 invention of locomotion by steam has increased the speed of everything 
 except thought, and not only the speed but the haste. Even in the earlier 
 and later periods of my own life-time, I see a marked difference in the way 
 in which all kinds of work are carried on, whether manual or intellectual. 
 The iron horse has outraced the animal of flesh and blood, and we are rap- 
 idly learning its paces ; the iron has indeed entered into our very souls, — 
 whether for good or evil time alone will show. The good of it is perhaps the 
 vanquishing of time and distance, and in other ways the general overcoming 
 of material difficulties. The evil of it is, that though we do twice as much 
 work as formerly in the same time, we think no more, but perhaps less ; we 
 have no time to think, but go crashing on to save ourselves from being 
 crushed in the hurry of progress. 
 
 This seems to me to account very much for the moral littleness of our age 
 in many important features. Competition is an excellent thing when confined 
 to the trial of which shall do the best. It is an awful thing when it resolves 
 itself into a bid as to which shall do the worst under the appearance of the 
 best. And yet it seems to me this is what we have practically come to, in 
 various and multitudinous ways. If I were asked to define the precise character- 
 istic in which the nineteenth century is distinguished above all others, I should 
 say, not in haste, but with great deliberation, " the art of deception." I do 
 not think there ever was a time of which it could be more truly said that 
 " deceit and guile go not out of our streets." It was reserved for the nine- 
 teenth century to invent shoddy and discover chiccory, — and great authori- 
 ties say that with the exception of green-grocery and butchers' meat there is 
 no single article of food that is not adulterated. The butter-men say they 
 don't adulterate their eggs, owing to a difficulty in the penetration of the 
 shell without visible external injury. But then the British public notice that 
 fresh eggs are sold at an advanced age, in a forward state of decomposition, 
 and that this is an ample equivalent for adulteration. 
 
 We became accustomed to the mixture of chiccory with our coffee when it 
 was legaHzed, and grocers had proved that the coffee was better for the chic- 
 cory; but when the " Lancet " informs us that chiccory itself is extensively adul- 
 terated with a still cheaper and viler compound than itself, I own to being 
 struck with astonishment, if not with admiration, at the inventive power of 
 the age we live in. 
 
 The only question is, can this universal deception go on, and leave a frag- 
 ment of moral rectitude behind it ? for the disease is not confined to food nor 
 raiment. Another form of it attacks almost every relationship of men 
 towards each other, and all are subjected to its influence. I do not say that 
 all are participators in this general evil, equally or actually. There are as 
 many honest men and women now as ever there were, and moral greatness is 
 
12 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 as possible to-day, in the nineteenth century, as in the days of all the cen- 
 turies preceding it. Yet I do think we pay very heavily, both in our morals 
 and our purses, for the Moloch of cheapness and competition we have fallen 
 down and worshipped, and we have not seen the end of it yet. 
 
 These remarks may seem a lengthy preface to what I shall have to say on 
 moral greatness, but are necessary to explain my own definition of the quality ; 
 because, also, it is of such infinite importance to all and each of us that, 
 whatever our intellectual or professional attainments may become, our stand- 
 ard of moral greatness shall be of the very highest. And it is also a ques- 
 tion which affects the lives of every human being, every day of the week and 
 every hour of the day, of the highest and lowest, the richest and poorest, 
 youngest and oldest, the most learned and most ignorant, the most foolish 
 and the wisest. Whatever else we may attain to, we have the means and 
 opportunities already in our possession of attaining moral greatness, and the 
 opportunity comes to every one of us every day of our lives. 
 
 In the first place, it is necessary to understand what the quality is before 
 we can understand it in others or practise it ourselves. After considering the 
 lives of many persons whose moral greatness has been unquestionable, the 
 basis of it appears to me to be that a man shall have thought most carefully 
 for himself, with all the help he can get to assist him from every source, and 
 finally settled in his own mind what is the right moral principle to act upon 
 under all circumstances, and, having so settled, to make a sacred compact 
 with his own conscience that, by the blessing and help of God, he will never 
 depart from it, let the temptation come in whatever shape it may ; to regard 
 departure from this standard of duty as the greatest of all calamities, and 
 himself as the most scrupulous and exacting of all task-masters. 
 
 Such is the basis of moral greatness, and it will be seen that taken as a 
 rule of life, or a condition to be acquired, it is of untold importance, and it 
 explains also the principle upon which the morally great have attained their 
 greatness ; not without sacrifice, for such a spirit as I have described entails 
 constant sacrifices ; and when a man has appointed his conscience to be mas- 
 ter over himself, with full authority and promised submission, master and 
 man are never far apart, the eye of the master is always over the workman. 
 
 The whole noble army of martyrs, whether for the spread of Christianity, 
 the uprooting of mental thraldom, or the reformation of national injustice or 
 vices, may be instanced as examples of the morally great. Their distin- 
 guished positions, the depth of their sufferings, the magnitude of their 
 labors, the bitterness of their trials, and the greatness of the benefits 
 achieved by their sacrifices for us, all impress upon our memories the lessons 
 to be learned from them, and upon our hearts the gratitude which is their 
 just due. 
 
 In our own country a just and creditable acknowledgment to moral great- 
 ness has recently been made in the erection of a statue to Andrew Marvell, 
 in the town hall, Hull, of which town he was both a native and representative 
 in Parliament. His character seems to have been moulded upon the one 
 great principle of moral integrity, from which no penalty could make him 
 
The Greatness of Great Men. 
 
 13 
 
 swerve, no bait tempt him to depart. In a few words the following sketch 
 illustrates his character and tells us who and what he was, besides giving us 
 a typical instance of his temptations and victories : — 
 
 " The borough of Hull, in the reign of Charles II, chose Andrew Marvell, 
 a young gentleman of little or no fortune, and maintained him in London for 
 the service of the public. His understanding, integrity, and spirit were 
 dreadful to the then infamous administration. Persuaded that he would be 
 theirs for properly asking, they sent his old school-fellow, the Lord Treasurer 
 Danby, to renew acquaintance with him in his garret. At parting, the Lord 
 Treasurer, out of pure affection, slipped into his hand an order on the treasury 
 for ^1,000, and then went to his chariot. Marvell, looking at the paper, 
 called after his lordship, " My lord, I request another moment." They went 
 up again to the garret, and Jack the servant boy was called. "Jack, child," 
 said Marvell, " what had I for dinner yesterday ? " — " Don't you remember, 
 sir," said Jack, " you had the little shoulder of mutton that you ordered me 
 to bring from the woman in the market ? " — " Very right, child ; what have I 
 for dinner to-day?" — " Don't you know, sir, that you bid me layby the blade- 
 bone to broil ? " — " 'T is so ; very right ; child, go away." Turning to Lord 
 Danby, he said, " My lord, do you hear that? Andrew Marvell's dinner is 
 provided ; there 's your piece of paper, I want it not ; I know the sort of 
 kindness you intended ; I live here to serve my constituents ; the ministry 
 may seek men for their purpose, I am not one." 
 
 Nor were the pains of hunger or the discomfort of a garret the only sacri- 
 fice entailed upon him for his incorruptible morality. It is believed that after 
 suffering from the danger and menaces of a corrupt court and a venal admin- 
 istration for a long time, during which his very life was constantly threat- 
 ened, he died most suddenly and unaccountably, and not without strong 
 suspicion of foul play, from those whose vices were the natural enemies of 
 his many virtues. 
 
 I hardly think the anecdote I have just related does him full justice. If 
 there had been no blade-bone to broil, the bribe would have been as promptly 
 refused ; for having settled definitely what was to be his conduct in life, blade- 
 bones and treasury bonds would be equally powerless to move him. 
 
 That kind of moral greatness leads men to reject the wrong, and I will now 
 tell you of another phase of the same character which is seen in self-denial. 
 
 Sydney Smith, as Prebend of St. Paul's, when the living of Edmonton fell 
 vacant by the death of the incumbent, was entitled by rotation to become the 
 new vicar, or give the vicarage to some one else. The late vicar left behind 
 him a widow, daughters, and a son, who was his curate. The widow had a 
 certain time given her to remove from the vicarage, and as she was left in 
 very straitened circumstances by the death of her husband, she was in a 
 very melancholy condition at her affliction and prospects. When the Rev. 
 Prebendary Sydney Smith called upon her, it was, she supposed, to make 
 inquiries concerning her leaving the home she had lived in so long and 
 happily, and she met the reverend gentleman with a doleful countenance, and 
 with what courage she could summon referred to himself as the new incum- 
 
14 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 bent. Sydney Smith, who had been a witness of the grief of mother and 
 daughters, and had before convinced himself by inquiries of their circum- 
 stances, at once disclaimed the notion that he was to be the new vicar, but 
 added that he certainly had called for the purpose of introducing that gentle- 
 man to them, which he now would be happy to do. Leaving the room, and 
 the ladies in some degree of astonishment, he fetched out of the late vicar's 
 study a gentleman who had been waiting there by his express wish. Advan- 
 cing hand in hand to the ladies, the prebend said, " Allow me to introduce to 
 your kind notice the new vicar of Edmonton." Well ! the new vicar was the 
 widow's own son, who had been curate to his father, and thus home was to be 
 home still, and the widow and her daughters were neither houseless nor in 
 poverty. 
 
 Now, it would have been pleasant enough, no doubt, for Sydney Smith to 
 have taken that living for himself, and under some circumstances he would 
 have done so ; but when he came to know what the real circumstances were, 
 his mind was made up in a moment. He must give way himself, and he did 
 it right nobly. 
 
 These are illustrations of moral greatness, to which might be added the 
 whole roll of noble acts which add lustre to the names of such men as Augus- 
 tine, Luther, George Fox, and others of our own day. I consider it as emi- 
 nently moral that in the railway mania George Stephenson would never have 
 lot nor part with speculative railway schemes, got up to be bought off. When 
 his name might have been used to bolster up a rotten project, and thousands 
 were offered for so using it, he never would consent so to sell his honor, 
 although he himself would have always profited by others' loss. But he knew 
 these schemes were wrong ; they meant plunder, and he would have none 
 of them. 
 
 I Hke, too, the story of that London brewer who became a convert to the 
 temperance cause late in life. A rich man made rich, as he now thought, 
 by the poverty and misery of thousands of his poorer brethren. What 
 was he to do Sell his business, and let somebody else go on poisoning 
 the people and making drunkards of them? No; he could not do that. 
 What was to become of the thousands of gallons of beer in his vats now ? 
 Why this is what he would do, and did. He would turn the whole lot of it 
 into the Thames, so that it should do no harm to a living creature, for he 
 knew that fish were sensible enough to prefer water to beer ; and into the 
 Thames it went. Without being a teetotaller myself, and believing that there 
 was a waste of good malt and hops in the transaction, I yet distinguish in it 
 a feature of true moral greatness. I know of a case in which a hterary 
 gentleman, of irreproachable life and morals, went into partnership with a 
 man who turned out both rogue and fool. After a few years of partnership 
 the business came to a crash, entirely through the mad folly of the senior 
 partner, who was not my acquaintance. The case was a very bad one, and 
 though the full rigor of the law could have been passed upon the bankrupts, 
 the creditors sympathized with the gentleman, who was even a greater victim 
 than themselves. His statement was very simple : " Gentlemen, we have all 
 
The Greatness of Great Mett. 
 
 15 
 
 been robbed, and I am now in your povv^er. Here is my body. You can shut 
 it up in prison and be revenged, if you think I have done wrong. If not, and 
 you leave me free to work for you, I will do so". The first money I earn I 
 will insure my life for the total amount of my debt to you, for your benefit, 
 and, as soon as I can, I will pay you in full." The creditors knew this man's 
 moral worth ; they trusted him, and have long since been paid off in full, 
 principal and interest. But it will be given to few to know his labors, his 
 self-denial, and his trials during the few years he was performing this self- 
 imposed task. No poor laboring man ever lived more abstemiously, worked 
 half as hard, or underwent more self-abasement than he did for those years ; 
 but he triumphed in the end, and has gone on triumphantly ever since. 
 
 I shall not multiply instances ; but will add that though called upon only 
 seldom to perform great acts of self-sacrifice, for the sake of moral princi- 
 ples, hardly a day can pass which does not summon us to fight in some 
 capacity, however humble, under this standard. 
 
 Of intellectual or professional greatness I shall not have so much to say ; 
 this much, however, I must say, that there is one fallacy held with regard to 
 it which deserves to be exploded. It is a common saying that the shoemaker 
 should stick to his last, and that a jack-of-all-trades is a master of none ; 
 that a man who studies many things is not so likely to succeed as he who 
 confines himself to one, and many other such decoctions of wisdom. My 
 knowledge of the characters of intellectually and professionally great men 
 leads me to an opposite conclusion. I believe that the reason so many fail 
 is, that they confine themselves too exclusively to the groove in which they 
 are placed and along which they are taught to run. There is no subject con- 
 nected with the happiness of human beings which does not by its study 
 strengthen the mental faculties, improve the powers of perception, and make 
 abler men in whatever their profession or trade. When study of a subject 
 direcdy connected with the daily work of life can be undertaken, it must 
 immediately affect the quality of work produced by the student, and influence 
 it for good. But even when not immediately connected with that web which 
 ^ like industrious spiders we have to weave every day for our daily bread, a fair 
 and honest investigation into a branch of knowledge that is new ground to us 
 will be found of practical advantage. 
 
 The very greatest men in every department of knowledge have been dis- 
 tinguished in many other branches besides their own, and in my opinion owe 
 their superiority mainly to it. In the architecture of St. Peter's there is the 
 grandeur of composition that was learned by Michelangelo in his study of 
 sculpture ; in his cartoon of the last judgment the strong effects of light and 
 shade and dramatic treatment he produced in designs for public monuments. 
 In details, that which made him one of the greatest anatomists of his age, 
 made him also the greatest draughtsman of the human figure. 
 
 Professor Whewell, once Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, was un- 
 surpassed as a scholar, and yet it is said there was absolutely no subject 
 that could ever be brought forward that he did not show himself intimately 
 acquainted with. 
 
i6 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone is not a less efficient statesman because he is also a Greek 
 scholar, nor will he love freedom less in his own country because he once 
 examined the prisons of Naples at some pains and not without effect. 
 
 An architect who is equal to the duties of his profession must know as 
 much about each trade employed in the erection of a building as the work- 
 man who does the work in each, and able in each to tell good work from bad. 
 If, in addition to all this, he studies incidentally such matters as ventilation, 
 acoustics, sanitary laws, land laws, geology, brick-making, forestry, chemistry, 
 and a few other kindred subjects, he will be none the worse fitted to build us 
 a comfortable house. 
 
 I am not so speaking because I would offer any encouragement to the frivo- 
 lous or discontented to change their occupations, or take interest in anything or 
 everything besides their own work. That is a very different sort of thing, 
 and I do not think any man has a right to enlarge the area of his studies 
 until he has at least learnt his own business so well that he can honorably 
 support himself by it. But when he has so acquired his craft, I do say that 
 the more he broadens the basis of his knowledge the better, and the more 
 likely he is to arrive at intellectual or professional greatness. 
 
 Besides this, who can know the extent of their powers until they have been 
 tried ? Many of the most brilliant geniuses have hit upon the road to emi- 
 nence while studying quite a different subject to that they were employed at. 
 Giotto began life as a shepherd boy. Sir Francis Chantry as a milkman, John 
 Gibson as a stone-mason. Sir William Herschel as a militiaman oboe-player ; 
 and had they stuck to their original callings, they at least would have fared 
 the worse, and society lost some of its brightest ornaments. Although it is 
 well to remember that "the rolling stone gathers no moss," it is not wise to 
 forget that " the tethered donkey is in danger of starvation." 
 
 The universal characteristic of all great work, whether in art, science, or 
 literature, is the impression it gives of having been done easily. The touch 
 of a great master seems the easiest thing in the world, if you see him apply 
 it, and the only marvel is why everybody cannot do it as well. The apparent 
 simplicity and absence of effort with which Halle plays, or John Bright speaks, 
 seems to imply that they take very little trouble about it. Very likely not, 
 because their failures were made some few years ago, and we only see their 
 successes. After a writing-master has been writing copper-plate for a quarter 
 of a century, it becomes an absolute impossibility for him to write a bad hand 
 at all, even should he want to do so. 
 
 So long as we remain without wings, there is only one way to the top of a 
 ladder, and that is up the steps ; and if, when you are surveying the exalted 
 position of some one at the top, you are told that the man was born there, or 
 descended to his perch in some mysterious way from the skies, you will be 
 justified in not believing that story. There may be many paths that lead to 
 the same platform, but they are all steep, and though it may take a firm 
 step, a steady eye, a cool head, and some physical exertion to arrive at the 
 terminus above us, nature has been good enough to supply most of us with 
 feet and eyes and heads and muscles, which may be used firmly or weakly, 
 
The Greatness of Great Men. 
 
 17 
 
 steadily or waveringly, coolly or excitedly, according to our own desires. 
 Only of this we may rest assured, that great men have always used their feet, 
 eyes, and hands one way, and little men the opposite way, or not used them at 
 all. So it always has been, and so we are justified in believing it always will 
 be, so long as the human race remains as tenants in possession of this little 
 world. 
 
 And now, thanking you all for the way in which you have listened to me 
 to-night, to what I fear has been rather a sermonizing and moralizing dis- 
 course, I will conclude by apologizing to you for the fragmentary manner in 
 which the subject has been brought before you. When I began to prepare 
 this lecture, I found that if I attempted to cover the whole ground of my 
 subject, I could do nothing but tell anecdotes and mention names. I have 
 tried, rather, that my utterances, however imperfect, should be to some extent 
 original, and to the whole extent my own honest belief. If you have come to 
 me for bread and I have given you but a rugged stone, you have come to a 
 mason instead of to a baker, but to a mason who is in as great a need of the 
 bread you seek as any of yourselves. 
 
 That which I have learned, and desire to impress upon you, is that greatness 
 is the result alone of labor, courage, and perseverance ; and that intellectual 
 and professional pre-eminence without moral greatness is a very short-lived 
 thing ; that men setting out with a desire for celebrity only, and prepared 
 to sacrifice all to attain it, are precisely those who never realize their dreams. 
 Short cuts are proverbially long roads, and that which honest labor turns into 
 fame, becomes in the hands of those who desire only celebrity a temporary 
 notoriety. 
 
 There is nothing more prolific of distinction and true greatness, than that 
 men should have a clearly-defined object in life, and that it should be a good 
 object, contributing to the welfare of society as well as to their own advance- 
 ment. And there is no truer sign of the likelihood of attaining it, than that 
 a man should subordinate his own desires utterly and completely to his object 
 in life. No indication of moral greatness is more reliable than a spirit of 
 toleration for the opinions of others, and whilst preserving our own independ- 
 ence to do so without offending the consciences or sacrificing the independ- 
 ence of others. To remember also that however remotely descended or 
 distantly connected, we are children of a common parent, with brotherly and 
 sisterly blood flowing in our veins, and that though it is our business to con- 
 quer the earth and subdue it, it is none of our business to conquer and sub- 
 due one another. That in the human family, as in the human body, if one 
 member suffer all the members should suffer with it ; if one member rejoice 
 all the members should rejoice together ; and that thus high and low, rich and 
 poor, in hfe and in art, one with another should bear each other's burdens, and 
 thus in our objects, our lives, and our actions endeavor to live up to the stand- 
 ard of our great men. 
 
 3 
 
I8 • 
 
 The Ante fix Papers, 
 
 II. 
 
 FRESCO, ENCAUSTIC, ETC. 
 
 I PROPOSE, in this lecture, to give you some account of ancient and modern 
 methods of wall-painting, such as fresco, encaustic, and stereochromy or water- 
 glass. Encaustic painting, an ancient method whose processes are not clearly 
 understood, may be said to be altogether obsolete. Fresco painting is both 
 an ancient and a modern method, perfectly understood at the present time, 
 but fallen much into disuse, not only because the taste of the present day is 
 adapted to a class of subjects unsuited to its high and legitimate uses, but 
 also because it is liable to suffer under the influences of chmate and atmosphere. 
 Stereochromy, or water-glass painting, is a modern German method, which 
 claims to be an all-sufficient substitute for fresco, and to possess the superior 
 advantage of indestructibility. I believe that no such thing as a fresco paint- 
 ing exists in this country ; certainly we have never had an American fresco 
 painter, and this for several reasons. Fresco painting is only suited to high 
 art or to the noblest style of decorative art, and our painters know httle of 
 either. Even if they did, they could find but little opportunity to exercise 
 their knowledge in the present condition of things. Our private houses are 
 not on the scale of Italian palaces, and when of unusual dimensions, 
 are not inhabited by persons inclined to spend money in adorning their walls 
 with great mural paintings of historical or rehgious subjects. Our public 
 buildings, as, for instance, the Capitol at Washington, would be admirably 
 suited to the purpose ; but I fear that we shall have to wait a long while 
 before our legislators are ready to engage the services of an artist capable of 
 covering their walls with paintings of great national subjects, in fresco or water- 
 glass. Fresco painting, like lyric poetry, does not suit the spirit of the time. 
 The public turns a cold shoulder upon historical and religious pictures ; it 
 wants to be amused and diverted rather than to be elevated and instructed 
 by art ; it has lost the conviction which former ages held, that art is intended 
 not only to give pleasure to the eye but to elevate and ennoble the human 
 creature, and does not look to it for the expression of high thoughts and the 
 inculcation of high lessons. Certain it is that the efforts made to revive 
 fresco painting, and to paint in water-glass at Munich and Berlin, and, later, 
 in England, have not resulted in a way to make the lover of really high art 
 very confident as to the wisdom of spending large sums of money upon mural 
 
Fresco, Encaustic, Etc. 
 
 paintings. The artists of the day are not educated up to the standard of the 
 great fresco painters of the sixteenth century, and when they are called upon 
 to show what they can do with such subjects as Raphael and Michelangelo 
 dealt with — the only legitimate subjects for fresco painting — achieve but 
 little success. As compared with the great Italians of the cinquecento, 
 Kaulbach and Cornelius and Maclise and Watts are, like so many 
 Phaetons trying to drive the chariot of the sun, and, for the most part, come 
 to a like end when they attempt fresco, which, to all intents and purposes, is 
 as dead a language as encaustic painting, for the reason already stated, — 
 that it is only fitted for the expression of a class of subjects which the real- 
 istic painters of our time are incapable of dealing with, and with which the 
 public has but little sympathy. Modern art is essentially imitative ; it pro- 
 duces fine portraits and landscapes and genre pictures, but it fails in 
 works which demand an ideal treatment. Now, the processes of fresco are 
 incompatible with imitation ; they are only suited to the capabilities of an 
 artist whose technical training and whose knowledge of the laws of compo- 
 sition, of light and shade, of color and of form, are of the highest kind, and 
 so thoroughly in his grasp that he can use them rapidly, boldly, and, as it 
 were, intuitively. He can make his cartoon as elaborate a piece of work as 
 he pleases ; but when he sits down before the bit of wet, freshly-mortared 
 wall, prepared for his day's work, he must be able to paint flesh, draperies, 
 accessories, alia prima, as you would write a letter, with the certainty that 
 he cannot count upon retouching to any considerable extent, and that there- 
 fore what is to be done must be done surely and quickly. Few artists now- 
 a days are sufficiently well trained to work as the old painters did. They are 
 accustomed to paint every part of their pictures directly from nature, and 
 when they rely on their memories for anything more thin a sketch, show 
 them to be but scantily furnished with the solid knowledge required to paint a 
 figure so perfectly that it will need but few corrections. Again, a master 
 cannot be aided, as the artist was in old times, by pupils as obedient to his 
 guidance and as absolutely under his control as if they were so many parts 
 of himself. The old system of apprenticeship made the artist a Briareus, — 
 gave him ten pairs of hands instead of one, and at the same time educated 
 those extra hands so thoroughly that in time they became as technically 
 skilful as his own. In the modern system, by which the student is either 
 trained in an academy or self-taught, he occupies an absolutely isolated posi- 
 tion, works out his own undisciplined individuality, if he have any, and grows 
 up with incomplete training and with vague principles concerning the laws of 
 beauty and the principles of composition. The result is what we all see in 
 modern art, which, under pain of failure, is forced to renounce the ideal and 
 deal only with the real. If I allowed myself to pursue this subject I should 
 fill this lecture with a disquisition upon the disadvantages under which 
 the modern world labors in all that relates to art of the highest kind ; but 
 this is not what I wish to talk to you about to-day. My object is simply to 
 describe the methods of wall-painting, which were formerly means to immor- 
 tal ends, and to give you a sketch of their development. ' 
 
2D 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 To paint in fresco is to paint upon a wet, freshly-mortared wall. This wall 
 must undergo a certain preparation. We will suppose it to be of brick. A 
 rough coat of plaster made of river-sand and lime, is spread upon it, in propor- 
 tions which vary in different climates. (In Italy, two parts of sand to one of 
 lime are used.) Lime is made of limestone. According to the length of time 
 which may have elapsed between its preparation and its use will be the 
 amount of its causticity. If too caustic, it blisters ; but a certain amount 
 of causticity is necessary to give it adhesive firmness. Authorities differ as 
 to the length of time necessary to make it exactly what it should be. Some 
 say three months, others consider three years not too long. The wall, when 
 it has its first rough coating, must be left to harden perfectly before another coat 
 is applied. The longest period is the safest. When perfectly dry, a coat of 
 somewhat finer mortar is applied, and this, too, is left to dry. It is now ready 
 for the last coat, which is to be put on piecemeal, as the painter needs it ; that is 
 to say, each morning such a portion of the surface is covered with fresh mortar 
 (which is of extreme fineness and of about the consistency of oil paint) as the 
 painter can finish in his day's work. This is a matter of very nice calculation, 
 as it is important for the painter to stop just on the outline of some object in his 
 picture, such as the border of a piece of drapery, or the depth of a fold, where 
 the dividing line may not be perceptible, as it would be, for instance, in the 
 middle of a nude figure ; for otherwise he runs the risk of marring his work, 
 as he would do if he failed to match the tone of color as it was when freshly 
 put on. What this was he can only judge by memory, for in drying the 
 colors change, and that which has been painted for some hours, will have 
 quite altered its appearance when the artist resumes his work on the following 
 day. Before leaving his work in the evening, the fresco painter cuts away 
 the edge of his day's work with a sharp knife. This cut must be brought 
 against the wall-surface, not at a right but at an obtuse angle, in order that 
 the mason may the better piece on the fresh plaster, so that it may bind well 
 with that already painted, and not make a ridge. In reality, the surface upon 
 which a fresco is painted, is made up of many pieces, put together like 
 painted glass in a mediceval window, or like the bits of ivory in a Chinese 
 puzzle. The absence or presence of obnoxious lines depends upon the 
 smoothness with which the mason lays his plaster, and upon the skill of the 
 painter in dividing his composition so that the dividing lines may fall in 
 unimportant parts of the picture. There are, however, other possible 
 blots upon the wall-surface which must be avoided. As it is important 
 for the painter to work with certainty and speed, he must know exactly what 
 he wants before he takes up the brush. First he makes a general sketch, 
 then a series of studies of drapery, attitudes, etc. etc., then he prepares a 
 cartoon, i. e. a large drawing in charcoal of exactly the size of the proposed 
 fresco painting. He is now ready to begin operations upon the wall. Seated 
 before the portion of wet plaster prepared for his day's work, he takes a 
 piece of oiled paper, upon which the outline has been traced, and fastens it 
 upon the plaster. Then with a pointed stick, a stylus of wood or ivory, he 
 marks Ihe outlines upon the wall through the paper, or else pricks out the 
 
Fresco^ Encaustic, Etc. 
 
 21 
 
 outlines on the tracing-paper, and powders them with a little bag of charcoal- 
 dust. This operation leaves the outlines in black upon the wall, and is 
 preferable to the first-named plan, because the indented lines made by the 
 stylus, collect dust, and are apt to show with an unpleasant effect. 
 
 The painter can use neither vegetable nor animal colors, as these alter 
 when combined with the fresh chalk. Among metallic colors some are to be 
 avoided, as, e.g. white lead. This can be replaced by finely-ground chalk. 
 All colors must be ground in pure water, without the use of any combining 
 medium, as through subsequent chemical processes they afterwards unite with 
 the plaster. By the burning of the chalk the carbonic acid is expelled from 
 it, and by slacking it becomes a pure hydrate of lime. The presence of car- 
 bonic acid would cause the colors to blister, and would produce crystalliza- 
 tions upon the surface. It is an error to suppose that colors used on wet 
 mortar sink any more deeply into the wet ground than colors used on a dry 
 ground ; the colored water does indeed penetrate more deeply, but the pig- 
 ments do not. Another error is to suppose that the colors can be separated 
 from the plaster only by destroying it, as also that the colors do not flake away 
 in fresco. Several layers of color can be laid one above the other, and each 
 of these layers may flake if they have been put on without sufficient pre- 
 caution. 
 
 I have said that one of the great difficulties of fresco painting is that the 
 work must be completed while the mortar is wet. It is, however, possible to 
 make certain after changes, and this in two ways. The first way is to cut out 
 the portion of the fresco with which the artist is not satisfied and paint it 
 over again, after filling up the space with fresh mortar. The second is to 
 wait until the wall is perfectly dry, and then retouch in distemper. Painting 
 in tempera, distemper a la dttre7npe as the French say, is painting on a dry 
 ground with water colors, with which a binding medium has been mixed. 
 The original meaning of the word "tempera" is that of mixture, as of 
 pigments with any more or less fluid medium. In its second and accepted 
 sense it implies the use of a glutinous medium, as egg, size, and gums, 
 binding substances originally soluble in water, as distinguishable from unc- 
 tuous or oily mediums. In its proper acceptation it means painting with a 
 vehicle or medium, in which yolk of egg is the chief ingredient. Yolk of 
 egg may be mixed in equal quantities with the color, or the yolk and white 
 may be beaten together and diluted with the milky juice expressed from the 
 shoots of the fig-tree ; or the yolk alone may be so diluted ; or vinegar may 
 be substituted for fig-tree juice. Until the introduction of oil painting which 
 followed upon Van Eyck's discovery, all easel pictures were painted in tempera 
 either upon panels, or upon hnen stretched on panels. In our own day tem- 
 pera is still employed in Russia, especially for religious pictures, also for the 
 retouching of fresco, and conjointly with oil colors, as by Moritz von Schmidt 
 in his wall decorations of the foyer of the new Opera House at Vienna. 
 Helbig, who is the best authority upon the methods of painting known to the 
 ancients, affirms (what has been doubted and disputed) that they both knew 
 and practised fresco painting, following, however, a method which gave their 
 
22 
 
 TJie Antejix Papers, 
 
 mural decorations a very different appearance from those of our own 
 time. 
 
 In ancient times no less than six layers of mortar were spread upon the 
 wall, making a much greater thickness than that which modern fresco 
 painters are accustomed to paint on. These layers were successively laid on 
 the wall while the under layer was still wet. Marble dust of increasing fine- 
 ness was mixed with the three last layers ; each one was beaten down, and, 
 being polished, had a white and shining surface like marble. " The colors," 
 says Vitruvius, " being applied on the moist stucco, instead of fading, preserve 
 their freshness, because the chalk, having lost all its dampness in the furnace 
 and being thirsty by reason of its dryness, pumps up eagerly everything 
 which touches it, and, mingling with other substances, forms a composite body 
 which in drying preserves the single qualities of each. The last layer, 
 which was composed of marble pulverized to a powder, mixed with chalk or 
 plaster, was about a finger deep. It was hard, white, and polished as a mir- 
 ror." The ancients distinguished real fresco, what we call " buoji-fresco^^'' i. e. a 
 painting on the wet wall, which they called udo tecforio, from dry fresco, 
 fresco secco, that is, painting on a dry surface, or painting in arido. This 
 latter process, which is analogous to distemper painting, is of course far less 
 solid, because the colors are not, as in the first case, incorporated with the 
 plaster upon which they are laid, but form a separate and thin layer upon its 
 surface. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say that a much greater amount of water was 
 contained in the many layers of plaster which the ancients spread upon their 
 walls than in the few which are applied in modern times, especially as each 
 fresh layer was put on before the first had dried. It remained damp conse- 
 quently for a much longer period, and thus the fresco painter was able to 
 proceed much more slowly with his work, and could execute very complicated 
 designs without being obliged, as in our modern system, to work piece by 
 piece. The idea, then, that Pompeiian ornaments and pictures could not be 
 executed in fresco, because it would have been impossible to paint large 
 pictures and compHcated ornaments before the ground dried, is an erroneous 
 one. 
 
 While speaking on this subject I wish to say a few words upon the place 
 which fresco painting held in the Roman world in the days of the Empire. 
 Curiously enough, while in the modern world fresco painting is connected 
 with the highest period of art, in the ancient it was associated with its down- 
 fall. The rapidity of execution and comparative cheapness of the process 
 led to a neglect of easel or panel pictures, which in better times had been 
 eagerly bought for immense prices, if painted by distinguished artists. Both 
 in temples and in private houses in Greece, before the division of Alexander's 
 great empire between his generals, easel pictures on panel were probably 
 let into the fresco-painted walls as panel centres. They were not hung on 
 the walls as in modern days, nor were they copied in fresco upon wall-panels 
 as at Herculaneum and Pompeii, until the second half of the third century 
 B. C. Then painted pilasters or arabesque borders took the place of the 
 
Fresco, Encaustic, Etc. 
 
 23 
 
 real pilasters used in former times, and compositions were painted in fresco 
 on the wall, where real pictures painted in encaustic on wood would have 
 been formerly hung. 
 
 The modern custom of displaying pictures in rows, as we see them in our 
 houses, was contrary to the antique spirit. This demanded that a room 
 should be a unit, and to attain this end all the works of art in it were so 
 arranged as to make their connection with each other and with the architecture 
 of the room absolute. Hence the system of dividing the walls into 
 panels in which easel pictures were enframed. When the cheaper system of 
 painting the entire wall in fresco was adopted, ^zV^^z^r^'Z/^^/^j" or picture-galleries 
 came into fashion. Our oldest description of a picture-gallery is that given 
 by Petronius, writing in the time of Nero. " There," he says, " were the pic- 
 tures of Zeuxis, still unspoiled by the wasting hand of time, and the sketches of 
 Protogenes, rivalling Nature herself in truth. These I touched with a cer- 
 tain feeling of awe. I admired also the monochromes of Apelles, whose subtile 
 , outlines seemed imbued with life. Here the sublime eagle bore Ganymede 
 to heaven, and there the innocent Hylas repulsed an amorous nymph. Further 
 on Apollo cursed his guilty hands and crowned his unstrung lyre with the new- 
 born flower." 
 
 The important principle of general unity, which was the basis of antique 
 decoration, was not lost sight of even in the latter days to which the mural 
 paintings at Pompeii belong. Thus in freshly unearthed chambers a pecu- 
 liar harmony between the tone of the central picture and that of the sur- 
 rounding wall is observable. If the wall is painted red, the panel subject is 
 colored lightly with warm shadows ; whereas, if the coloring of the wall 
 be dark, almost black, it is painted in a low scale of color with corre- 
 spondingly low-toned shadows. Being adapted to their surroundings, both 
 in respect to tone as correlative to that of the surrounding wall, and to 
 evenly distributed light falling upon them through openings in the roof, 
 antique frescoes appear at a great disadvantage when seen, as at Naples, in 
 the halls of a museum where the light falls full upon them. They suffer as 
 some antique statues and all pediment groups do, by being placed on 
 a level with the eye, and lighted in an entirely different way from that which 
 the artist originally intended. For these reasons ancient paintings seem to 
 us coarsely and hastily painted, and antique groups and single pediment fig- 
 ures look out of drawing. The very science of the artist, which enabled him 
 to calculate exactly how a fresco should be painted to suit a certain place 
 and light, or how a statue should be proportioned which was to be looked at 
 from below, and, at a distance of thirty feet from the spectator, is rendered 
 nugatory, and what were real beauties are turned into apparent defects. 
 Neither art, as represented by existing remains, can be fairly appreciated at 
 the present day. The Elgin marbles are shattered Iragments of a mighty 
 whole in which we dimly divine the splendor of what was, from that which 
 still is. How glorious they once were we may safely assume, since even in 
 their present mutilated condition they assert their invincible supremacy 
 over all else that antiquity has bequeathed to us. As for painting, it has not 
 
24 
 
 The Antefix P aiders. 
 
 even the advantage of showing itself to us in original works by great masters, 
 which, however degraded, still retain some sparks of heavenly fire. We know 
 the pictures of Zeuxis and Protogenes and Parrhasius and Apelles only 
 through the descriptions of Pausanias, Petronius, and Pliny, and through 
 the supposed copies or reminiscences of their works which exist in the fres- 
 coes of Herculaneum and Pompeii. These cannot be positively traced, 
 though there is little doubt that the clever fresco painters who decorated 
 the walls of the houses of those buried cities, made use of the compositions 
 of the great painters which had become consecrated in the eyes of the mul- 
 titude. They either repeated them exactly, or slightly varied them by leaving 
 out a figure or a group, or else abridged them. 
 
 Greeks, Etruscans, and Romans were accustomed to adopt the composi- 
 tions of distinguished artists as typical treatments of well-known subjects, 
 using them as they used forms of speech which had by usage become common 
 property. As the painters or wall-decorators who worked in the Campanian 
 cities often painted from memory without the help of sketches or models, 
 these typical treatments were gradually modified, so that although there can 
 be no doubt that many of their works are directly or indirectly connected 
 with Hellenic originals, it is often difficult, if not impossible, to trace the con- 
 nection. 
 
 The speed with which the decorators of the Empire worked and the tech- 
 nical skill which they possessed is apparent to any one who examines the 
 mural paintings of the buried cities. Their minds were stored with an 
 infinite variety of forms of ornament ; their memories were enriched with the 
 knowledge of great pictures ; and their hands were trained to carry out the 
 ideas of others, of which they had possessed themselves, with all the ease of 
 an improvisation. They were like the great pianists of our own time, Rubin- 
 stein and Von Bulow, who can play through the works of any composer, from 
 Haydn to Liszt, without notes, only that they allowed themselves to take 
 liberties with the compositions of the great painters which would be justly 
 looked upon as unpardonable if taken by pianists with those of the great 
 musicians. In considering the subject of painting in ancient times,we must note 
 that the medium of the great Greek painters, was not fresco, but tempera or 
 encaustic. I have already explained the first, which was practised in modern 
 times by great artists until the fifteenth century, in the latter part of which 
 oil painting was introduced into Italy from Germany and soon superseded it. 
 Encaustic painting, that is, painting with fire, if we translate the Greek word 
 tvxavarov literally, died out with the great Greek artists, and its processes are 
 to a certain extent secrets to us. Our chief authorities about its methods 
 are Pliny and Vitruvius, whose texts have from their obscurity given rise to an 
 immense amount of discussion and explanation not altogether satisfactory. 
 The standard work upon the subject is the " Antica Arte " of the Abbate Re- 
 queno, but as this may not be accessible to you, read the article " Pictura " in 
 Smith's Dictionary, which contains general ideas upon the subject ; and you 
 may also consult upon this, as upon many other important points connected 
 with ancient art, Miiller's "Ancient Art and Its Remains," translated from the 
 German by John Leitch (London, 1852). 
 
FrescOy Encaustic^ Etc, 
 
 25 
 
 Pliny speaks of three kinds of encaustic painting : — 
 
 1. The burning in of outlines on ivory tablets with the stylus or cestrum, 
 a metal instrument, such as the ancients used for writing memoranda on 
 wax tablets, pointed at one end and broad and flat at the other, — the 
 pointed end for writing, and the flat end for erasing. 
 
 2. The applying of colored wax with hot pencil, and the after operation of 
 blending and softening the tints together. 
 
 3. The painting of ships with brushes dipped in fluid wax mixed with 
 pitch, which not only ornamented but protected them from the action of the 
 salt water. 
 
 It seems tolerably certain that the great pictures of Apelles and his peers 
 were painted with wet cold colors which were laid on with dissolved wax ; 
 a small rod heated at one end was then passed along the surface to blend the 
 colors together and to give them transparency and depth. The wax was boiled 
 with mastic, in the proportion of two to five parts, and then allowed to cool. 
 The wax itself, called Punic wax, was purified and bleached before it was used. 
 Requeno [Vol. i, p. 277] says that a Greek or Roman painter's studio was fur- 
 nished with the following objects : Punic wax colors, brushes of silk, pans and 
 boxes to hold tinted wax, mastic, and other resinous gums, bitumen, a sponge, 
 wax candles, a basin of water to clean the brushes, clean towels, rods and styli 
 of iron, waxed tablets to make sketches on, a mortar to grind the colors boiled 
 with wax, ivory tablets, and an easel in the shape of a tripod. Thus fur- 
 nished, the painter had all necessary materials for the three different methods 
 of encaustic painting mentioned by Pliny. 
 
 We have none of the masterpieces of the great Greek painters to compare 
 with those of our great painters, but we read descriptions of them in ancient 
 authors as enthusiastic as those which are written nowadays of the pic- 
 tures of the great Venetian painters ; and from what we know of the consum- 
 mate taste and knowledge of the Greeks, we must believe that they did not 
 misapply terms. 
 
 In reading them, however, we are at once struck with the fact that one of 
 the great merits of the pictures of Zeuxis and Parrhasius was the illusion 
 which they offered to the senses. To imitate nature so closely that not only 
 birds but men may be deceived, is not only a thing impossible to our painters, 
 but even if done would not place those who did it in the first rank. If it 
 were so, the Dutch school would stand first in our estimation, and a Van 
 Huysum or a Seyboldt or a Denner would rank above a Raphael, You must 
 not, however, suppose that the great Greek painters confined themselves to 
 such feats of color-juggling as those here referred to. These were feats of 
 technical skill which were so surprising that they excited wonder and were 
 recorded ; but Parrhasius won his title of a law-giver in art, not because he 
 could paint a curtain so perfectly that Zeuxis even was taken in and put out 
 his hand to raise it, but because he painted gods and heroes in such perfec- 
 tion that they became types to the artists who followed him. 
 
 If, as we gather from the stories above referred to, encaustic painting was 
 capable of giving extraordinary illusive effects, it was also, as we know from 
 4 
 
26 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 the descriptions of such a famous picture as the Venus Anadyomene of 
 Apelles, capable of rendering the color and texture of flesh with marvellous 
 beauty and truth. The paintings of Apelles and the sculptures of Ly- 
 sippus were the culminating glories of pictorial and plastic art in the 
 days of Alexander, and the technical perfection of one was evidently not 
 at all surpassed or outdone by that of the other. The high grade occu- 
 pied by the painters of easel pictures is pointed out by Pliny. They 
 treated mythological and historic subjects in the noblest style, and were 
 held in an esteem which was not accorded to such mural decorators as the 
 artists who painted in fresco at Herculaneum and Pompeii. To a certain 
 extent, however, mural paintings in fresco were assimilated to encaustic 
 paintings in appearance, as an encaustic varnish was passed over them to 
 preserve them and to give them brilliancy. This varnish, which was made of 
 wax and mastic, was laid on and then cauterized or melted upon the surface 
 by means of a brazier containing lighted coals. When we compare ancient 
 frescoes, as we beheve them to have been, and modern frescoes, we find that 
 they little resembled each other, the only points in common being that both 
 were painted on freshly-laid mortar, of great thickness and many coats 
 in the one case, and of comparative thinness and laid on piecemeal in 
 the other. While the ancient fresco presented a polished and marble- 
 like or enamelled surface to the eye, the modern fresco is clear and trans- 
 parent, non-absorbent of light, and therefore non-reflectant. To see an oil 
 painting to advantage, indeed to see it at all, the spectator must see it in a 
 proper light ; whereas the fresco painting rather throws out light, and is thus 
 peculiarly adapted for the decoration of dimly-illuminated churches and public 
 buildings. The breadth of effect attainable, the quickness of hand neces- 
 sary to its successful use, which gave a certain character of improvisation to 
 the finished work, also recommended it to the great Italian painters. After 
 the revival of painting in the thirteenth century, it superseded mosaic, which 
 had long been the only method used for church decoration, and from Giotto 
 to Raphael continued to be practised with wonderful results. 
 
 The preference of the Italians for frescoed wall decoration was one of the 
 reasons why Gothic architecture never fully established itself in Italy, 
 while the preference of the Northern nations for Gothic buildings was the 
 reason why fresco never obtained favor north of the Alps. The Germans pre- 
 ferred tall lancet windows, filled with stained glass, which, by the transmission 
 of colored light, painted the interior with shifting colors so long as the sun 
 shone through them. The Italians, on the contrary, clinging to their old 
 traditions, delighted in frescoed walls, and, that they might be seen, made 
 wide openings in them, which are incompatible with Gothic exigencies. The 
 history of fresco painting in Italy is really the true history of pamting from 
 the middle of the thirteenth to the latter half of the sixteenth century. It 
 begins with the works of Cimabue and Giotto, at the Church of St. Fran- 
 cis at Assisi, and culminates in the splendid creations of Raphael at the 
 Vatican, and of Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel. What other art can boast 
 such an illustrious lineage as this ? Cimabue, Giotto, Orgagna, Masaccio, 
 
FrescOy Encaustic, Etc, 
 
 27 
 
 Da Vinci, Perugino, Raphael, Razzi, Michelangelo, and after them the Caracci, 
 Guido, Carlo Maratta, Pietro da Cortona, and Raphael Mengs ; nay, we need 
 not stop here, for the art, as revived at Rome in the early part of this cen- 
 tury, was practised by a group of young German painters who became 
 famous, — Overbeck, Schadow, CorneHus, and Veit. 
 
 I suspect that the chief reason why this attempted German revival at Rome 
 never led to any abiding result is that, of all styles of painting, fresco demands 
 the most knowledge, and the most ready use of that knowledge, in the painter. 
 The painter in tempera, in oil, in water color, the goldsmith, the sculptor, 
 the engraver, may dawdle over his work as he will ; he may change it, and 
 retouch it ad libitum; he may leave it for years and take it up again without 
 detriment to it. Not so the fresco painter : he must have his work all planned 
 and thought out beforehand, like a general who is on the eve of a great 
 battle, though, unlike him, he cannot hope to take advantage of the enemy's 
 mistakes, and, by some suddenly-conceived change of plan, convert defeat 
 into victory. The obstacles to his success are fixed, and he must rely 
 upon the readiness of his hand and eye to overcome them. He must be 
 a quick and good draughtsman and colorist ; he must know how the colors 
 which he lays on the wet wall will look when they are dry, so that in begin- 
 ning his next day's work on a freshly-laid piece of mortar he may not mis- 
 match tints ; then again he must be able to undergo a considerable amount of 
 physical fatigue and annoyance, — run the risk of catching cold and fever by 
 working in damp places, all which risks and fatigues are greatly increased if 
 he be employed in painting the ceiling of some great chapel or room. The 
 standard example of the troubles of the fresco painter is that which is 
 furnished by Michelangelo's account of his work at the Sistine Chapel. 
 Cooped up in a narrow space between the top of a scaffolding and the ceiling, 
 upon which he worked out the mighty figures of sibyls and prophets and 
 genii, and portrayed the story of man's early history as related in the book 
 of Genesis, he remained for months together a prisoner condemned to hard 
 labor. So much was his sight affected by the necessarily abnormal position 
 of his head, that for a long time after he had finished his work he could not 
 read a book as ordinarily held, but was obliged to hold it up above his head. 
 Did you ever read the sonnet which he wrote to his friend Giovanni da 
 Pistoza in 1609 while working upon this ceiling ? On the margin of the original 
 he made a sketch of himself in the position described in the sonnet : — 
 
 I 've grown a goitre by dwelling in this den, / 
 
 As cats from stagnant dens in Lombardy 
 
 Or in whatever land they hap to be, 
 
 Which drives the belly close beneath the chin ; 
 
 My beard turns up to heaven, my nape falls in. 
 
 Fixed on my spine ; my breast-bone visibly 
 
 Grows like a harp ; a rich embroidery 
 
 Bedews my face from brush-drops thick and thin. 
 
28 The A7ttefix Papers. 
 
 My loins into my paunch like levers grind ; 
 
 My buttock like a crupper bears my weight ; 
 
 My feet unguided wander to and fro ; 
 
 In front my skin grows loose and long ; behind 
 
 By bending it becomes more taut and straight. 
 
 Backward I bend me like a Syrian bow, 
 
 Whence false and quaint I know, 
 
 Must be the fruit of squinting brain and eye ; 
 
 For ill can aim the gun that bends awry ! 
 
 Come then, Giovanni, try 
 
 To succor my dead pictures and my fame ; 
 
 Since foul I fare, and painting is my shame." 
 
 I have often thought vi^hen visiting the Sistine Chapel that it would be 
 very interesting to get near to the ceiling and examine Michelangelo's work 
 near by ; but this is as impossible as it would be to reach the stars. One 
 looks up at the mighty figures as one looks up at the planets in the firmament, 
 and wonders, not what they are, but what they would look like, if one could 
 get into their immediate neighborhood. Other frescoes by great Italians are 
 more accessible, as, for instance, those of Raphael in the Stanze of the Vati- 
 can. The rooms are comparatively low, and the bottom of the fresco is 
 only a few feet from the ground. To study them closely, or to copy single 
 heads, an artist is permitted to use a ladder, with a platform at the top large 
 enough to sit upon. I availed myself of this possibility a good many years ago 
 while living in Rome, and made two studies from the Heliodorus which I have 
 brought with me, — one of the head of the warrior on horseback who has over- 
 thrown the plunderer of the treasures of the Temple, and the other of the 
 entire group, with the two messengers of divine vengeance, who swoop down 
 like eagles upon their prey. The single head was copied, not from a distance 
 as it was intended to be seen, but near by. The expression seems somewhat 
 forced, and it is so in order that the spectator standing below may receive a 
 strong impression. If you place yourself close to an orator speaking in a 
 large hall, you will think he raises his voice too much, which indeed he does 
 for you, but not for those who sit at a great distance from him. So a 
 painter who speaks in colors from a distance must exaggerate expres- 
 sion and paint in broad masses, which will be effective at a distance. This 
 is one of the points of difficulty which the fresco painter must k^ow-enough 
 to overcome. He must be able to calculate his effects proportionately 
 to the relative distance which is to intervene between them and those who 
 are to see them. Michelangelo began his work at the Sistine Chapel on a 
 miscalculation : the first panel which he painted, the Brazen Serpent, is, from 
 the small scale on which the figures are painted, entirely ineffective from the 
 floor of the chapel. Seeing this, the great artist conducted the remainder on 
 a very different scale, and the result was a triumphant success. 
 
 The decline of fresco painting in Italy, where alone it ever really flour- 
 ished, kept pace with the decline in art. With Raphael and Michelangelo 
 and Corregio and the great Venetians it reached its apogee, precisely 
 
Fresco, Encaustic^ Etc. 
 
 29 
 
 because it is essentially the fittest form of painting for the expression of the 
 high art of which they were the apostles. After them Domenichino at Grotto 
 Ferrata, Guido in the RospigHosi Palace, the Caracci at the Farnese, all 
 painted frescoes of great merit ; but then came the turn of such wall deco- 
 rators as Luca fa Presto and Pietro da Cortona, who covered acres of walls 
 with frescoes, painted with skill and wonderful facility, but mannered, extrav- 
 agant, and void of style. Turned to such ignoble ends, the art died a lingering 
 death, whose throes are not worth watching. It was revived, or, rather, gal- 
 vanized into a seeming life, early in this century at Rome by a set of young 
 German painters, — Cornelius, Overbeck, Schadow, and Veit, — who, under 
 the patronage of the Crown Prince of Bavaria, afterward the famous King 
 Louis, believed themselves destined to found a school which should be 
 worthy to take rank with that of the sixteenth century, which had written its 
 record in immortal shapes upon the walls of the Vatican, the Sistine Chapel, 
 and the Farnesina. As fresco was the fitting language for the high art to 
 which they devoted themselves, they desired to employ it. The Prussian 
 Consul, Herr Bartholdy, placed one of the rooms in his apartments at the 
 Palazzo Zuccheri in the Via Sistina at their disposal ; and there Overbeck 
 ^painted "Joseph sold by His Brethren," Schadow, " Isaac receiving the News 
 of Joseph's Death," Cornelius, " The Meeting ot Joseph and Benjamin," and 
 Veit, "The Age of Iron and the Age of Silver." Overbeck, Schadow, and 
 Veit, late converts to Romanism, with others of their way of thinking, formed 
 a party at Rome which went by the name of the Nazarene. They looked 
 upon art as the servant of rehgion, led very simple lives, affected a certain 
 austerity of demeanor, were, in short, neo-mystics, who copied as far as pos- 
 sible the style and sentiment of a bygone age. Thorwaldsen, Koch, and 
 Schlick were the leaders of a pagan or classical party in art, who zealously 
 studied the antique, and drew their nutriment from no other source. Cornelius 
 stood midway between the two parties ; he had been brought up in 
 the Church of Rome, but, although thus naturally allied with the Nazarenes, 
 he had such a horror of proselytism that he openly declared that he would 
 become a Protestant as soon as the Nazarenes made their first convert to 
 Romanism. The frescoes which Overbeck, Cornelius, and Schadow painted 
 at the Palazzo Zuccheri are really interesting, because they are the first fruits 
 of the unquestionable talent of the founders of a school who, though working 
 on a false principle, were earnestly and devoutly convinced of the sanctity 
 of their mission. They appear in them to much greater advantage than in 
 their later works, because these are more and more disfigured with that man- 
 nerism which, especially in the case of Cornelius, as he appears in his 
 illustrations of the Iliad at Munich, was the bane of their art. Of the three, 
 Overbeck will, perhaps, live longest, though he was an anachronism in his art 
 as in his appearance. Meeting him in the streets of Rome, or seeing 
 him, as I have often seen him, in his studio, clad in a long purple robe bor- 
 dered with gray fur, and with a cap of the same material and trimmings upon 
 his head, you would have thought that he had stepped out of one of Holbein's 
 pictures. As he thus in his person affected the costume of a past time, so in 
 
30 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 his works he repeated the outward pattern of a phase of art which holds that 
 high place in man's esteem accorded to every genuine growth and vital 
 expression of an age, but which cannot be given to any imitation, however 
 cleverly accomplished, by men living in and belonging to a later period, whose 
 thoughts, ideas, and aims are totally different. The later history of fresco 
 painting takes us across the Alps to Bavaria. Here, under Louis of Bavaria, 
 the hitherto unimportant capital of a small European kingdom became the 
 nursery of the new German school. Munich was the stage upon which King 
 Louis enacted the part of Leo X, surrounded by the counterfeit present- 
 ments of the great Italian artists who made Rome really what this new 
 centre of the arts aspired to be. Van Klenze, the architect, played the part 
 of Bramante, Schwanthaler, the sculptor, that of Michelangelo, while Cor- 
 nelius, Hess, J ulius Schnorr, and Kaulbach completed the troup as the 
 modern representatives of Raphael and his scholars. These men, by their 
 buildings, statues, and frescoes, made Munich what it is, — a pale copy of the 
 Rome and Florence of the sixteenth century, oddly jumbled with reminis- 
 cences of other centuries in Italy and Greece. As one walks about its streets 
 one feels as if in a dream, so disconnected are these reminiscences and so 
 mixed up with the antagonisms of modern hfe. Here is a Basilica, there an , 
 exact copy of the Loggia of Orgagna at Florence ; the theatre is called the 
 Odeon, the picture-gallery the Pinacothek, and the sculpture-gallery, which is 
 the most perfect reproduction of a Greek building attempted in modern 
 times, is known as the Glypthotek. The great buildings are adorned with 
 frescoes whose subjects are taken from the Iliad, from the lives of saints and 
 martyrs, from German history, from the works of poets, ancient and modern. 
 The frescoes, with which we have more especially to do, are complicated 
 and mannered in design and crude and disagreeable in color. Among them, 
 those of Professor Hess, in the Basilica, are by far the best ; those of Cor- 
 nelius, the worst in design, color, and taste. 
 
 Even under the most favorable circumstances as regards climate and free- 
 dom from the destructive influences of dampness, smoke, acid, vapors, etc. 
 etc., frescoes fade and change with time. If this be the case in Italy, for 
 instance, it is greatly aggravated in more northern countries, such as Bava- 
 ria, where great alternations of heat and cold prevail. To decorate the ex- 
 terior of buildings with frescoes, as the German artists employed by King 
 Louis attempted to do, was merely to throw away time and labor ; and this 
 led to the invention of a new method of mural decoration, which, however 
 inferior in quality to fresco painting, claims the advantage of indestructibility. 
 I refer to stereochromy or water-glass painting, which was employed by 
 Kaulbach for the great wall paintings which he executed in the new museum 
 at Berlin. The word stereochromy is derived from two Greek words, rfrspsoc:, 
 solid, firm, and ^pojxa, color. Water-glass is soluble alkaline silicate, — 
 i. e. silicate (fluid) rendered soluble by boiling it with an alkali, such as 
 potash, soda, or lime. This fluid glass (for it is really nothing but ordinary 
 glass in a different form) is infused into the wall through its facial painting. 
 The mortar spread upon the wall is composed of quartz, sand, and lime, all 
 
Fresco^ Encaustic^ Etc. 
 
 31 
 
 which are ingredients of glass ; these ingredients in glass are chemically 
 united, whereas in plaster they are held together by virtue of the common 
 law of cohesive attraction. The principle, then, of the whole operation is 
 the homoeopathic principle of " Similis sijnilibus^'' — like to like. The 
 plaster drinks in the water-glass, for which it has a natural appetency, and 
 the whole becomes a solid mass of which the colors used in painting before 
 the water-glass is applied form a component part. These details of the 
 new process are taken from a report made by Daniel Maclise, the well- 
 known English historical painter, for the " Commissions on the Fine Arts." 
 Maclise visited Munich and Berlin, saw Kaulbach and his pupils at work, 
 and made many experiments with a view to the decoration of the new Houses 
 of Parliament by the same method. Had these decorations by Maclise, Her- 
 bert, and other English artists been less weak and unsatisfactory than they 
 are, we should have less reason to deplore the fact that, being painted in 
 a material over which time and climate have no power, they are likely to 
 last, unless deliberately destroyed. This is a misfortune, for to him who 
 l>rs seen them once, no desire remains to see them again. 
 
 Mr. Layard, who was one of the most earnest promoters of the proposed 
 decoration of the Houses of Parliament, in a paper read before the Royal 
 Institute of British Architects, states that some of the frescoes had hardly 
 been painted in the Houses of Parliament befpre decay commenced, and 
 many of them, he adds, " are even already almost gone." This was not due to 
 any defect in the materials, but to the insidious attacks of London smoke, 
 against which even water-glass, as he fears, will not be able to stand. The 
 opinion of Dr. Percy, whose opinion Mr. Layard quotes as that of one who 
 had formed it after careful scientific examination and analysis, is " that no 
 wall painting, however executed, can resist an atmosphere impregnated as 
 that of London is with the chemical substances evolved from the consump- 
 tion of coal." Convinced of the correctness of this opinion, Mr. Layard 
 turned his attention to glass mosaic, brought over Salviati to England, and 
 thus introduced a method of decorating walls, externally or internally, which 
 even the London atmosphere, that " edax rerum oinniutn^'' will, it is to be 
 supposed, find it hard to digest. 
 
III. 
 
 COLOR: THE ORIGIN OF PIGMENTS AND THEIR 
 CHEMICAL ACTION. 
 
 Color is the immaterial result of the decomposition of light by material 
 substances. It is a soul-element, as it were, of matter, revealed through 
 things which are " of the earth, earthy," and made known to us by that great 
 interpreter of mysterious phenomena called Chemistry. It is presented to 
 us independent of substance only in the image of the prismatic spectrum. 
 
 The physical bases which decompose light, thereby enabling us to deter- 
 mine the character of its constituent properties, are called pigments. These 
 are either simple and original, as Nature gives them to us, or they are the 
 result of chemical change and combination, the former being generally 
 considered superior. While she supplies them abundantly from all her store- 
 houses, by far the largest number are of mineral origin, either haloid com- 
 pounds of various metals or certain insoluble salts of these. 
 
 Most commonly oxides constitute paints — as in the case of the ochre 
 tribe, from yellow to purple — and chemical combinations of oxides ; also 
 chlorides, iodides, sulphides, carbonates, phosphates, chromates, acetates, etc. 
 Many, also, are derived from the vegetable and animal kingdoms, either 
 directly — as sepia from the cuttle-fish, and certain colored resins, as gamboge, 
 etc., from plants — or indirectly, through chemical agency. 
 
 Under certain conditions, pigments are subject to peculiar accidental 
 changes, — gradual sometimes, sometimes immediate. These are generally 
 occasioned by careless combination of inimical substances, by reciprocal 
 action or by foul air, gases, dampness, etc. 
 
 Unfortunately, pigments are especially liable to come in contact with the 
 last three foes mentioned directly they are placed upon any work of art ; 
 hence, it behooves all possible Turners to take heed lest history repeat itself, 
 and darkened chromate-of-lead-skies continue to be contrasted with " the 
 pure limpidity " of those " ever luminous " ones of Claude. But perhaps 
 the danger least guarded against, because least considered, is the indiscrimi- 
 nate mixture of pigments, the results of which are occasionally unexpected, 
 not to say undesirable. 
 
Origin of Pigments and their Chemical Action. 33 
 
 In view of this, before admitting any pigment to such a place of trust as 
 the palette, a close investigation into the manners and customs of each sepa- 
 rate species would doubtless not be injudicious, A cursory glance, therefore, 
 at the individual peculiarities of a large number of those in most general use 
 will follow hereafter. While some hold letters patent from high authorities, 
 there are yet many with doubtful credentials, whose worthiness of pubUc con- 
 fidence time only can establish. 
 
 Many very beautiful colors have within a few years been prepared from 
 coal-tar, but proving unstable, they are now seldom used except for dyeing 
 purposes. Among these, the brilliant mauve, magenta, and azuline may be 
 mentioned as examples. 
 
 The most permanent colors are the earths and ochres, and such mineral 
 substances as are not destroyed by fire and lime. Some of these, unhappily, 
 are less beautiful than many of the fugitive ones, and in consequence, it often 
 happens that discretion is not the better part of painting. 
 
 The terms "permanent " and " fugitive " have no absolute, only a relative 
 signification ; for instance, ultramarine, which will endure a hundred cen- 
 turies, under ordinary circumstances, may be destroyed in a moment by a drop 
 of lemon ; and the generally fugitive carmine, if hidden under a bushel, her- 
 metically sealed, and put just where one would never want to put it, will last 
 for ages. Again, white lead, extremely sensitive to the quality of the atmos- 
 phere, will retain its whiteness for almost any length of time in pure air, only 
 to blacken after a few hours' or days' exposure to foul air. Pure air and 
 sunshine will restore it, however, as will also an apphcation of oxygenated 
 water. 
 
 It has been supposed, and not unreasonably, that pigments, protected by 
 oils and varnishes, were safe from any possibility of change. The assump- 
 tion would be warranted if we had an impenetrable varnish ; and even that 
 would not resist the action of light, though it might resist dampness and 
 impure air. Moreover, the varnishes and oils themselves have a tendency to 
 darken (thereby obscuring) what it is pretended they keep from obscurity. 
 
 With regard to permanency, the good repute of many permanent pigments 
 is often injured by careless admixture of fugitive ones. To this latter class 
 belong a large number that are transparent, as the cochineal lakes, the yellow 
 dyewood lakes, and such as are of organic origin. 
 
 While it is the tendency of transparent pigments to fade, those earthy and 
 metallic are inclined to darken, yet both are essential to good painting. 
 
 Beginning with the neutrals, black and white, which are said to compre- 
 hend the synthesis and analysis of all color, we will now notice some of the 
 chemical relations and characteristics of pigments individually. 
 
 Good whites are especially essential to the artist, as they form the basis 
 of all opaque painting. 
 
 Flake white, having more body than any other white, hence preferable, is 
 a carbonate of lead, with an excess of oxide, prepared by exposing thin 
 sheets of blue lead to the fumes of vinegar, in beds of fermenting tan. 
 
 It is necessary to use a rapidly drying vehicle with all white leads, as they 
 
34 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 are always endangered by foul air and gases. Millions of dollars have been 
 expended in trying to find a substitute for them. 
 
 Zinc white, an oxide of zinc, unaffected by bad air and gases, may be used 
 over lead whites, but it is too feeble in body to take the place of them. 
 
 The brightest white used in oil is Kremnitz, also a carbonate of lead lack- 
 ing body. All lead whites are carbonates of that metal, except Flemish 
 white, which is a sulphate, and Pattison's white, which is an oxychloride. 
 The latter is partially soluble in water, therefore ineligible. 
 
 Lead whites cannot be used in water color, fresco, or distemper, as they 
 require the protection of oil or varnish. 
 
 The only white possessing both body and permanence is Chinese white, an 
 oxide of zinc, not used in oil. 
 
 Black. — The coloring principle of all black pigments is charcoal or carbon. 
 
 Black lead, plumbago, or graphite contains no lead whatever, only carbon ; 
 some iron, perhaps, with a trace of silica or alumina. 
 
 Blue black is composed of calcined vine-stalks, etc., and is very durable. 
 A small quantity mixed with white lead will act as a preservative. This is 
 owing to a bleaching power which carbon possesses. 
 
 Ivory black is animal charcoal, or ivory calcined by strong heat in close 
 vessels. It must not be mixed with vegetable or organic pigments in water, 
 as it has a power to absorb such substances. Put into a solution of them, it 
 will, in time, render the water quite clear and limpid. 
 
 Various accounts are given of the mode of preparing the Chinese product 
 Indian Ink, but according to analysis it possesses the properties of lamp- 
 black largely, some sepia, and about two per cent of camphor. Bone-black 
 and lamp-black are what their names suggest, — calcined bones and soot from 
 resinous woods. Manganese black is an oxide of that metal ; it has great 
 body, and is the best of all blacks for drying in oil. 
 
 Yellow. — Yellow, the first primary, is found in abundance everywhere, yet 
 for some reason very little was used among the ancients, its place being sup- 
 phed by gold. In its chemical relations it very much resembles white. Nature, 
 rarely so prodigal with her gifts of excellence as to bestow a multiplicity 
 upon one object, has been peculiarly lavish to two of this class — aureolin 
 and orient yellow. 
 
 Aureolin is said to be the most perfect color in existence, approaching 
 more nearly than any other the purity of the prismatic spectrum. It is 
 available in all branches of art, except in enamel. Great heat destroys it, 
 notwithstanding which it will bear the direct rays of the sun for a whole 
 season. It mixes safely with all other colors. 
 
 Orient yellow, its compeer, merits equal praise ; lustrous, luminous, 
 permanent, it defies all enemies. They are both new pigments. 
 
 The cadmiums are also comparatively new, the metal itself being unknown 
 before 1818. They are sulphides of cadmium, unaffected by impure air; iron 
 injures them, hence a steel palette-knife should not be used with them. 
 Deep cadmium, mixed with white, gives a perfect imitation of Naples yellow. 
 
Origin of Pigments and tJieir Chemical Actiojt. 
 
 35 
 
 Opinions differ with regard to mixing it with white lead, some authorities 
 contending that it would be destroyed thereb3\ 
 
 Lemon cadmiums are decidedly fugitive, though of the same nature as deep 
 orange cadmiums, which are permanent. 
 
 Chrome yellows are chromates of lead, having great body, brilliance, and 
 opacity. They lack tenderness, and will in time grow dark ; they are less 
 affected by foul gas in oil than in water color ; they destroy Prussian and 
 Antwerp blues. 
 
 Citron yellow is chromate of zinc ; affected by light and air ; liable to turn 
 green if brought in contact with organic substances. 
 
 Gall stone, an animal product, is affected by strong light. Gamboge, 
 a gummy, resinous product, is transparent, and more durable than it has the 
 credit of being. When mixed with other colors it helps preserve them, on 
 account of its resinous nature. It is injured by white lead and other metallic 
 pigments, and reddens by contact with alkaline substances. 
 
 Indian yellow is an animal product. Possessing an alkaline nature it 
 injures cochineal lakes and carmine. It may be employed in fresco, as foul 
 air and lime do not harm it. Like some other pigments, it resists the sun's 
 rays, but fades somewhat in ordinary light. 
 
 Lemon yellow is chromate of baryta, the only chromate which is not liable 
 to change by foul air, dampness, mixture with white lead and other pigments, 
 the action of hght, and contact with a steel palette-knife. It is semi- 
 opaque. 
 
 Mars yellow resembles the iron ochres and sienna earths, but is more 
 transparent, and somewhat purer and richer. 
 
 Most of the modern Naples yellow? having a zinc instead of a lead basis, 
 is stable and trustworthy. It was formerly a compound of lead and antimony, 
 subject to same dangers and management as white leads. 
 
 The ochres are native earths, in which iron is the coloring element. They 
 are compounds of silica, alumina, and iron. 
 
 The umbers, siennas, and ochres are all oxides of iron, and permanent, 
 whether native or calcined. 
 
 The ochres were chiefly used by the old masters for flesh-tints, and their 
 permanency is proved by the state of old pictures. They injure carmine and 
 cochineal lakes to some extent. 
 
 Orpiment is sulphuret of arsenic. It is destroyed by lead colors, and de- 
 prives other colors of their oxygen. It is now obsolete. 
 
 Strontian yellow should be chromate of strontia, but it is not. It contains 
 no strontia whatever, and is an exceptional instance of a compound superior 
 to an original pigment. 
 
 Vegetable yellows are not to be depended on, especially if submitted to 
 the action of solar rays. The same may be said of vegetable pigments of all 
 colors. 
 
 Red. — With the second primary, red, — red, the gorgeous, the magnificent, — 
 Nature has less richly endowed us. Yet our lack is not in quantity, as we have 
 an abundance, but rather in the union of excellences of which the first primary 
 
 ♦ 
 
36 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 gave us examples. Especially are we in need of a transparent, permanent 
 scarlet. The only pure scarlet available is an iodide of mercury, as much 
 inferior to vermilion in permanence as it is superior in brilliance. It must 
 not be mixed with metallic pigments, and must be thickly glazed with gum in 
 water color. 
 
 Vermilion is a sulphuret of mercury, — mercury and sulphur sublimed 
 together. In China it is found so pure as only to need grinding. It is per- 
 manent, if of the best quality, and eligible in water, oil, or fresco. Its 
 opacity is its greatest objection. It is too suggestive of the word pigment," — 
 paint. When mixed with other colors, the heavier they are the better, as its 
 specific gravity is great. Mixed with white, it furnishes fine flesh tints. It 
 is not good in enamel, as it is dissipated at red heat. It contains about loo 
 parts quicksilver to i6 parts of sulphur. 
 
 Beside vermilion, there is one other red, not bearing on a crimson cast 
 which is permanent, and eligible in every department of art, except, also, 
 enamelling. This is cadmium, a simple, original pigment. Glazed with 
 madder-carmine, it is the best known substitute for scarlet. 
 
 Carmine, one of the pink or crimson reds, is prepared by adding alum and 
 carbonate of soda to a solution of cochineal. The cochineal insects, from 
 which the color is obtained, are fed on cactus plants and tended with as much 
 care as silk-worms. They are natives of Mexico, and some frightfully 
 mathematical brain has estimated that it would take 70,000 of them to weigh 
 a pound. Carmine is unstable, unless used very thickly, and is changed to 
 purple by contact with alkaline substances. Crimson lake, scarlet lake, Flor- 
 entine and purple lakes are all cochineal colors, and fugitive. 
 
 The madders are derived from a plant largely grown in France and Hol- 
 land, and are a most valuable acquisition to the palette, as before their dis- 
 covery there was no permanent transparent red and rose pigment. Unlike 
 cochineal, madder furnishes several coloring matters, — yellow, orange, 
 red, purple, and brown. 
 
 Mars red is an artificial iron ochre, similar to the native earth. All the 
 Mars colors are good and permanent. 
 
 Red ochre, oxide of iron, is either yellow ochre burnt or the same 
 changed in hue by time, which often has the effect of fire. Like all ochres, it 
 is permanent in water, oil, crayon, or fresco, and, like most of them, available 
 in enamelling. 
 
 Indian red is an earth brought from Bengal, and contains a large amount 
 of peroxide of iron. It is opaque, and does not keep place well, but neither 
 time, fire, impure air, light, nor mixture with other pigments will afTect it. 
 
 Light red is an ochre, but Venetian red cannot properly be classed among 
 them, as it has no earthy base. It is artificially prepared by calcining sul- 
 phate of iron. It is permanent, but should be cautiously used with colors 
 which afTect that metal. 
 
 Red lead, an ancient pigment, is an oxide of uncertain composition, 
 extremely fugacious when employed with white lead. 
 
 Among the permanent reds rank cadmium, madder, and Mars reds, and 
 
 * 
 
Origin of Pigments and tJieir Chemical Action. 37 
 
 the ochres and vermiHons ; among the semi-stable, the cochineal lakes, 
 Indian lake, and red chrome. To the fugitive, belong scarlet, dragon's blood, 
 red lead, and coal-tar colors. 
 
 Blue. — Among the blues we have, as yet, only two classes that can prop- 
 erly be called permanent, — the ultramarines, native and artificial, and the 
 cobalts. 
 
 Pure ultramarine is derived from the precious stones, lapis-lazuli, found 
 in Persia and in Siberia ; it is doubtless the celebrated Armenian blue. It 
 is very expensive ; the purest quality of it has been sold as high as ^8 
 an ounce. On account of its costliness, a prize of 6000 francs was 
 offered in Paris for an artificial substitute that should possess its good quali- 
 ties. This was won in 1828 by a M. Guimet, a noted chemist. Its absolutely 
 necessary constituents were found to be silica, alumina, sulphur, and soda, the 
 blue color being dependent on the soda. It has a transparent, azure color ; 
 it is permanent, unaffected by alkaline substances, hence eligible for mural 
 decoration, and is subject to the same effects from acid as the native ultra- 
 marine. It becomes darkened by heat, which renders it unfit for painting on 
 porcelain or glass. It must not be mixed with constant white, which is an 
 acid sulphate of baryta. 
 
 Cerulean is comparatively a new pigment ; it is cobalt with a tin base, 
 and contains sometimes gypsum, silica, and magnesia ; it has a chalky 
 quality which destroys its transparency. Like all cobalt blues it assumes a 
 greenish-gray tint in time, and like them it resists the action of light and im- 
 pure air, although, owing to its tin base, it is more open to the influence of 
 the latter. It can safely be employed in fresco and enamel. 
 
 Cobalt is obtained by calcining a mixture of alumina and crystals of cobalt. 
 The perfection of the color depends on its being free from iron and nickel. 
 It does not suffer from mixture generally, and can be used in enamel and 
 fresco. Its specific gravity is great, which causes it to sink quickly when 
 mixed for use with other colors. A prismatic effect can be realized by going 
 over it when dry with a faint wash of vermilion. It is not destroyed by 
 acid. 
 
 Smalt is a vitreous compound of cobalt and silica, stable in glass or 
 porcelain painting, but not for pictorial purposes, either in oil or water. All 
 vitreous colors are unsuited for artists' purposes. 
 
 Indigo came into use in Europe about the middle of the sixteenth century, 
 although it was well known to the ancients. Permanent as a dye, it is even 
 inferior to Prussian blue as a pigment ; but it is in favor with many artists, 
 notwithstanding, since it gives good effects. 
 
 Intense blue is only refined indigo. 
 
 Prussian blue is a compound of iron and potassium, or a prussiate of 
 iron with a gaseous substance called cyanogen. It fades in a strong light, 
 but regains its color in the dark ; it dries well in oil, and can be used in 
 great body with considerable permanence. 
 
 Antwerp blue is a species of lake with an aluminous base. Similar to 
 Prussian blue. 
 
38 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 Blue verditer is blue oxide of copper. 
 
 Green. — Copper furnishes many of the most commonly used greens. But 
 all copper greens are somewhat insecure in oil vehicles. 
 
 Scheele's green is an arsenite of copper, a late discovery, intensely brilliant 
 and rankly poisonous. 
 
 Emerald green is a compound of arsenite and acetate of copper. It is 
 very durable, not affected by light, dampness, or impure air ; it is powerfully 
 reflective, and is to greens what scarlet is to reds. It may be mixed with 
 aureolin for Spring tints. 
 
 Malachite green is carbonate of copper. It is prepared from malachite, a 
 beautiful copper ore used by jewellers. 
 
 Viridian green, a new preparation, and the most beautiful of all greens, is 
 an oxide of chromium. Pure and clear as an emerald, it is also permanent, 
 and mixes safely with other pigments, neither injuring nor injured by them. 
 Unaffected by impure air or dampness, it is eligible for fresco but not for 
 enamelling. With aureolin, it is peculiarly adapted for marine painting. 
 
 Oxide of chromium is chromate of mercury strongly ignited. It is a per- 
 manent color in all respects ; it is the coloring matter of emeralds ; it is 
 opaque and of full body. 
 
 Terre verte is an oxide of copper. 
 
 Chrome greens are compounds of chromate of lead and Prussian blue, but 
 they are unfit for artistic purposes, as their constituent elements react upon 
 each other. 
 
 Hooker's green is simply a compound of Prussian blue and gamboge. 
 
 Purple. — The richest purples are mixtures of Prussian blue and crimson, 
 but are, of course, unstable, since their component parts are so. 
 
 Purple madder is the only durable organic purple, and is admirable for 
 fresco. 
 
 Violet carmine should be used only in body, as it loses its beauty and 
 brightness. 
 
 Gold purple is excellent, but costly, and purple madder supplies its place. 
 
 Because of its great beauty and high cost, purple came to be the symbol 
 of imperial power. The celebrated Tyrian purple was obtained from a 
 species of murex, and other shells. The Romans had extensive murex fish- 
 eries and dyeing establishments, but for several centuries after the fall of the 
 Roman Empire purple was an unknown color in Europe. 
 
 Mars violet is strictly permanent, and is of an ochreous nature. It is not 
 very brilliant. 
 
 Orange. — Orange pigments comprise some of the best on the palette, 
 though they were unknown in ancient times. 
 
 Cadmium orange was first introduced to the art-world in 1862. It is a 
 simple original color, having no base but cadmium. Beautifully transparent, 
 it gives gorgeous effects, and is especially adapted for a glaze over autumn 
 leaves and for bits of bright drapery ; it can also be used for mural decoration. 
 
 Orange chrome is produced by the action of an alkali on chrome yellow. 
 Like all chromates of lead, it has a tendency to injure organic substances. 
 
Origin of Pigments and their Chemical Action. 39 
 
 Of the tertiary colors, there is no original olive pigment, good or bad, and 
 only one original russet, — Ruben's madder. 
 
 Olive oxide of chromium is of strict durability, either in water or oil. It 
 is superior to any compound olive pigment, but is too expensive to be used 
 freely. Olive terre verte is good, and is semi-transparent. 
 
 In brown pigments, yellow is the chief constituent, and with the exception 
 of Cologne and Cassel earths they are comparatively permanent. Brown 
 pink, however, a citrine color of vegetable origin, is not very stable. Mars 
 brown is iron and manganese, and quite permanent. Vandyke brown is a 
 bituminous ochre, and like all bituminous pigments dries tardily. 
 
 Bitumen and asphaltum are both of a resinous nature, the one mixed with 
 oil and the other with turpentine. The pitch is found floating on the Dead 
 Sea ; its great transparency renders its use very tempting to the artist, not- 
 withstanding it has a tendency to crack on change of temperature. Mummy 
 oil used with it, however, will prevent its* cracking. The large seams in some 
 of Sir Joshua Reynolds' pictures are said to be the result of painting freely 
 with bitumen. 
 
 Mummy brown comes from the catacombs of Egypt. It is the liquid 
 bitumen which was used in embalming, chemically changed by time and mix- 
 ture with animal remains. Objections to this pigment are sometimes raised 
 on rather novel grounds, though whether they are the result of sentimental 
 reverence or disgust is open to conjecture. Field instances a certain artist 
 who had a decided prejudice against smearing his canvas with a possible 
 extract of Potiphar's wife, notwithstanding he might get excellent effects 
 thereby. 
 
 Sepia is the concrete gall of the cuttle-fish. It is capable of being so 
 widely spread that an ounce of it will color several thousand ounces of water. 
 It is very permanent and combines admirably with other pigments. A fossil v 
 cuttle-fish was recently found, the ink in the gall-sac of which was in a perfect 
 state of preservation. 
 
 Verona brown, a citrine color of great service, is a ferruginous earth. The 
 citrine-bistre is a solution from the soot of burnt wood. As it attracts mois^ 
 ture from the atmosphere, it is not considered good except for architectura 
 drawing, and is not used at all in oil. 
 
 Raw umber is a natural ochre, containing oxide of iron, oxide of man- 
 ganese, silica, and alumina. It dries well, is stable, and does not injure other 
 pigments. 
 
 Cappagh brown is bog-earth and manganese. With an excess of peat, it 
 is a superior Vandyke, and with an excess of mineral it forms a superior 
 umber. 
 
 Cadmium brown is white carbonate of cadmium prepared by ignition. Its 
 use is not recommended, as it will change back to white by contact with air. 
 
 The following is a list of pigments which are not at all, or little, liable to 
 injury by the action of light, oxygen, and pure air ; nor by shade, sulphuretted 
 hydrogen, dampness, and impure air ; nor by the action of the metallic sub- 
 stances, lead and iron : — 
 
40 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Zinc white, constant white, tin white, the yellow ochres, red ochre, light 
 red, Venetian red, Indian red, ultramarine, blue ochre, orange ochre, jaune 
 de Mars, burnt sienna, burnt Roman ochre, terre verte, cobalt green, gold 
 purple, madder purple, purple ochre, bro\Yn madder, Vandyke brown, bistre, 
 raw and burnt umber, Cassel earth, Cologne earth, sienna earths, vermilion? 
 rubiates or madder lakes, madder carrnines, asphaltum, mummy brown, ultra- 
 marine ashes or mineral gray, sepia, naanganese brown, Cappagh brown, 
 ivory black, lamp black, Indian ink, graphite, mineral black, Frankfort black. 
 
 Pigments injured by white lead or preparations of that metal : — 
 
 Gamboge, Indian yellow, yellow lake, Italian pink, iodine scarlet, red lead, 
 dragon's blood, lac, carmines and cochineal lakes, indigo, orange orpiment, 
 sap green, brown pink. 
 
 Pigments affected by iron, or by other pigments into which ferruginous 
 substances enter as components : — 
 
 Blanc d' Argent, Naples yellow, patent yellow, iodine scarlet, carmine, scar- 
 let lake, blue verditer, intense blue, mountain blue, verdigris, green verditer, 
 prussiate of copper, ca^c t ..t a _ 
 
Harmony and Contrast of Color. 
 
 41 
 
 IV. 
 
 HARMONY AND CONTRAST OF COLOR. 
 
 Color seems to be a necessity of our intellectual nature ; for if all objects 
 were of a bright white light when the sun shone, and this light gradually 
 faded away into black dulness" as the sun disappeared, giving us no variety 
 of color but dull neutral grays, what unsatisfied, despairing creatures we 
 should be ! It is this craving for color and beautiful effects which leads us to 
 decorate our homes, our persons, and draws us to works of art. We go to 
 Nature to study there what is spread before the eye of all intelligent beings, 
 and learn what is agreeable in the works that she exhibits to us daily. She 
 spreads ever-varying beauty before us ; and we are not forced to journey over 
 many lands for variety of scene, for if we view the same landscape many 
 times, it is never painted twice alike, and its colors are always in harmony. 
 Then let us look more closely, and endeavor to see what it is in Nature's 
 paintings that gives us such pleasure, rest, and peace, as no pictures by any 
 other artist ever give. All this beauty of color is due to the power of 
 refraction which light has in passing through mediums of different density, 
 and to the power different bodies possess of reflecting and absorbing light. 
 Some bodies absorb all the rays and we call them black ; others reflect all the 
 rays, and we call them white ; others reflect green rays, blue rays, etc. ; we 
 name them accordingly. 
 
 Light was considered a primary element, until Newton discovered its 
 compound nature. A ray of solar light is composed of an indeterminate 
 number of variously colored rays, which are distributed into groups, termed 
 red rays, orange rays, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet rays. But all the 
 rays comprised in one group are not identical in color. Some of these colors 
 are produced by the mingling of other colors, and for simplicity, and conven- 
 ience of study, we say that white is composed of yellow, red, and blue rays. 
 These rays cannot be further divided, and as being the primary elements of 
 light and unattainable by any mixture, they are called Primary Colors. 
 
 There are no pigments to represent the primary colors, for there is no one 
 pigment that is free from a mixture of some other color. Thus it is difficult 
 to get a red that is free from yellow or blue, or a blue that is without any 
 mixture of yellow or red. The nearest approach to primary colors in paints 
 or pigments is, for yellow, lemon-yellow ; for red, French carmine ; for blue, 
 6 
 
42 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 ultramarine. The primary colors, mixed in varied proportions, produce hues 
 of color. By diluting these hues with white, all tints of color are made ; by 
 toning the hues with black, all shades of color are produced. Colors are 
 inherent or transient. Inherent colors are material colored substances ; 
 transient colors are those formed by the decomposition of light, such as the 
 hues of the rainbow, the prism. The three primaries, yellow, red, and blue, in 
 the state of transient colors, that is of the prism, rainbow, etc., when recom- 
 posed or mixed by the contrary process to that by which they have been 
 separated, produce white light : could we get pure color in pigments, this 
 experiment would hold good with them ; but if we mix material colors 
 together, yellow, red, and blue, the colors are neutralized and destroyed. Any 
 two of them, mixed in certain proportions, produce a perfect secondary, which 
 harmonizes with the remaining primary. 
 
 To satisfy the eye and produce harmony of color, the presence of 
 all three primaries is necessary, either in their pure state or in com- 
 bination. When any one of these colors is present, the other two 
 are called the complement of that color, or that which it requires 
 to complete harmony. This is a physical need of the organs of sight, and 
 we have only to be observing to prove it is so. A simple experiment, which 
 almost every child has tried, is, to look for a time at the bright, yellow sun 
 when low in the horizon. As we remove the eye to other objects, or shut it, 
 we still see the image of the sun, but of a purple color, the complement of 
 the yellow. This fleeting image is called the Ocular Spectrum. If we look 
 upon any brightly-colored object, we may observe the same phenomena. 
 The nerves of the eye become fatigued with looking intensely at one bril- 
 liantly colored object, and are unable to receive the rays of that color; the 
 other two rays, therefore, become mingled and produce the secondary, com- 
 plementary color. 
 
 According to Field, colors harmonize in the proportion (that is, to the 
 extent of surface covered) of three of yellow, five of red, and eight of 
 blue. To produce perfect secondaries, the same proportions must be kept. 
 Thus five of red and eight of blue make purple, which harmonizes with three 
 of yellow, its complementary color. Eight of blue and three of yellow pro- 
 duce green, harmonizing with red in the proportion of five of red to eleven- 
 of green. Five of red and three of yellow make orange, which harmonizes 
 with blue in the proportion of eight of each. These tnree colors, orange, 
 purple, and green, are called secondary colors. Orange is complementary to 
 blue, and blue to orange ; purple is the complement of yellow, and vice versa. 
 The same is true of red and green, each being the complement of the other. 
 
 The mixture of the secondary colors produces the tertiaries. Thus eight of 
 orange and eleven of green make citrine, which harmonizes with purple in 
 proportion of nineteen of citrine to thirteen of purple. Thirteen of purple 
 and eleven of green make olive, which harmonizes with orange in proportion 
 of twenty-four olive to eight of orange. Eight of orange and thirteen of 
 purple produce the tertiary russet, which harmonizes with the secondary 
 green in the proportion of twenty-one of russet to eleven of green. Each 
 
Harmony and Contrast of Color. 
 
 43 
 
 tertiary is composed of the three primaries, with one predominant. Thus 
 yellow predominates in citrine, made from orange and green, each containing 
 yellow and one other color ; red is in excess in russet, the warmest of the 
 tertiaries ; and blue predominates in olive, which makes this color the dark- 
 est and coldest of the three tertiaries. 
 
 Colors are described as warm and cold colors : red, orange, and russet are 
 warm, while blue, green, and olive are cold colors. Some colors are opposed 
 to, or in contrast with other colors, as regards light and dark, advancing and 
 retiring. 
 
 Blue is the most retiring of all colors. We see blues and blue grays in the 
 distance in landscapes, and moving objects, as they recede to the background^ 
 lose their bright colors, and gradually assume gray tints till they vanish in 
 the distance. It is from this retiring nature that blue and gray tints of wall- 
 paper on a room give the room the appearance of being larger than it is ; 
 while bright yellow or orange paper makes the walls seem closer to us, as 
 these colors are advancing. 
 
 Yellow and purple contrast as to light and dark ; red and green do not, but 
 they contrast as to power of color. Red is the warmest and most exciting 
 color, and it is for this reason that bright red garments are so disagreeable to 
 the eye on a hot summer day, and the green trees and fields so soothing and 
 refreshing. 
 
 Successive contrast comes from removing the eye from an object upon 
 which it has long dwelt, and seeing the image of the object dressed in its 
 complementary colors. When the eye is then fixed upon another colored 
 object, the color of the latter is modified with the color of this image of the 
 eye. This is called mixed contrast. Simultaneous contrast comprises 
 all those phenomena which take place when colors are seen simultaneously 
 in juxtaposition. These changes arise from a property common to all 
 colored bodies of reflecting, along with their own hue, a certain amount of 
 the complementary rays, and of white light. 
 
 Complementary colors in juxtaposition mutually enrich each other. For 
 example, when yellow and purple are arranged side by side, the yellow is 
 apparently deepened in tint and enriched by the extra yellow rays given out 
 by the proximate purple ; at the same time the purple is enlivened and light- 
 ened by its contrast with the lighter primary, and enriched in color by the 
 extra purple rays given out by its yellow complementary. In order to attain 
 full harmony, it is necessary that the juxtaposed colors should be of equal 
 intensity of hue. Thus the law of harmony will be found in complementary 
 contrasts of color with analogy of hue. When analogy of hue is wanting, that 
 is, when a full hue of color is juxtaposed with a tint or shade of its comple- 
 mentary, their mutual enrichment of each other decreases in the ratio of their 
 decrease of analogy of hue. 
 
 By juxtaposition inharmonious combinations are rendered still more inhar- 
 monious. For example, if purple and blue are placed side by side both 
 colors are injured. A line of white between the colors diminishes the 
 discord. 
 
44 
 
 The Aittefix Papers. 
 
 In contrasting color with a ground of white the color is enriched, the 
 white ground overpowering the extra white rays given out by the color. In 
 contrasting color with a black ground the color appears diluted or weakened, 
 the extra white rays given out by the color being increased by those reflected 
 from the black surfaces. Black grounds should not be opposed to colors 
 which have a luminous complementary, since these must tend to diminish the 
 brilliancy of the ground, whilst the reverse will arise from the opposition of 
 colors which have a dark complementary. For example, blue on a black 
 ground tends to give it a brown shade, on account of the orange complementary 
 rays which are invariably produced by the blue, whilst orange on a black 
 ground renders the ground more intense from the blue extra rays reflected by 
 the orange. 
 
 Cold, negative grounds require the opposition of warm colors. Red, which 
 in color is intermediate between light and darkness, being the contrast of 
 gray, which holds the same place in colorless media ; it also, being the most 
 positive of colors, harmonizes agreeably with both the neutrals, — black and 
 white. 
 
 Gray increases the brilliancy of all the primary colors when in juxtaposition 
 with them. It may also act as a color, and form with the darker hues and shades, 
 harmonies of analogy, while with the lighter hues and tints it may form har- 
 monies of contrast. 
 
 Arrangements of the primary colors with black are always agreeable. 
 Black may also be arranged with the darker hues to form harmonies of 
 analogy, and with the luminous hues and tints to produce harmonies of 
 contrast. 
 
 When ornamental forms of any color are placed on grounds of the 
 complementary color they should be surrounded by a margin of a hghter or 
 darker tint. This is required to clearly define them and to overcome the 
 tendency the complementary colors have to become confused, from the extra 
 rays they each give out, the effect of which is more observable where the 
 colors come in contact. This treatment is more necessary where the colors 
 do not contrast as to light and dark, as green and red, for they are more apt 
 to mingle than colors of a decided contrast, as purple and yellow. When 
 the ground is dark and the ornament of a light complementary hue, the orna- 
 ment should be edged with a lighter tint. When the ornamental forms are 
 dark, on a luminous ground of complementary color, the forms should be 
 edged with a darker line. This is also true of self-tints, dark forms on a 
 light ground requiring to be bordered with a still darker line. 
 
 The Oriental ornamentalists practised these laws of simultaneous con- 
 trasts, as they separated colored ornamental forms from colored grounds by 
 borders of white, black, and gold, while on white or black grounds they used 
 no such borders. 
 
 The primaries not only harmonize with the secondaries, and these with 
 the tertiaries, in their state of full hues, as already described, but their tints 
 also harmonize, and produce combinations of great beauty and refinement. For 
 instance, lilac, which is a tint of purple, is in harmony with primrose, a tint 
 
Harmony and Contrast of Color, 
 
 45 
 
 of yellow ; and straw-color, a tint of orange, slightly neutralized, contrasts 
 with a negative blue tint. The luminous primaries and secondaries may be 
 used in their full hues with tints of their dark complementaries, thus : orange 
 with pale blue, yellow with lilac, etc.; but the surface of the contrasting tint 
 must be increased in proportion to its dilution with white. When it is desired 
 to have a decoration of a dominant color in large masses the primaries or 
 secondaries may be neutrahzed into shades, and the harmonies may be obtained 
 by the introduction of small portions of the pure complementary. Thus, blue, 
 lowered in tone by black, may be supported by small portions of orange, 
 bounded by a lighter tint or white. The good colorist must study not only 
 harmony of combination, but suitableness and local fitness, and must vary 
 the scale of color in depth and tone for different fabrics and different 
 purposes. 
 
46 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 . V. 
 
 HARMONY AND CONTRAST OF COLOR. 
 
 (^Continued.') 
 
 We have learned from the preceding article what the terms " harmony " and 
 " contrast " imply, also which colors are primary, secondary, tertiary, etc., and 
 how they harmonize and contrast. We will now consider how colors may be 
 modified, or may appear very different from what they really are. The colors 
 of objects are supposed to be due to a power they possess of absorbing 
 certain portions of the colored rays that make up a ray of white light, and of 
 reflecting other portions, the reflected portion being complementary to the 
 portion absorbed. Thus, a red colored substance is considered to absorb 
 blue and yellow, and reflect red. A green colored body absorbs red, and 
 reflects blue and yellow. A white substance, then, in conformity with this 
 view, reflects all the rays that constitute white light, while a black substance 
 absorbs them. Bodies reflect a considerable portion of white light as well 
 as of colored light, according as the surfaces are smooth, glossy, polished, 
 rough, channelled, etc. ; for example, pieces of silk, cotton, linen, woollen, 
 and velvet, although dyed of exactly the same hue and tone of color, appear 
 when viewed in the same light and at the same distance from the eye, to be 
 of quite different colors. Both the tone and the hue of a colored object are 
 modified by the quality of the light by which it is illuminated, whether 
 it be direct sunhght, diffused daylight, or diff"used reflected light. The form 
 of the object also produces varieties of light and shade, and thus exhibits 
 many tones of the same color. Color is furthermore modified in its 
 intensity or tone by contrast of tone ; for example, if a dark color be placed 
 beside a different but lighter color, the dark color appears deeper and the 
 light color appears lighter. The color itself may appear changed according 
 to the circumstances under which it is viewed ; red, for example, if placed 
 in contact with blue, appears yellower ; if with yellow it appears bluer ; if in 
 contact with green it appears purer and brighter ; if with black it appears 
 duller ; if in contact with white it appears lighter and brighter ; and if with 
 gray, it is brightened. Thus the same red may appear many diff"erent reds> 
 according to the circumstances under which it is viewed. If we look at two 
 stripes, of the same color but of different tones, or at two stripes of different 
 colors of the same tone, placed side by side, if the stripes be not too wide, 
 
Harmony and Contrast of Color, 
 
 47 
 
 the eye perceives certain modifications, affecting both the quality and the 
 intensity of the colors, and they will appear very different from what they do 
 when viewed separately. 
 
 First. The tone of each stripe will appear changed, the light tone will 
 appear lighter and the deep tone deeper, commencing at the line of contact, 
 where it will be greatest, and gradually diminishing as it recedes from it. 
 This is contrast of tone. 
 
 Second. The color of the different stripes will appear changed, each 
 appearing as different as possible from the other. This is contrast of colors. 
 
 These contiguous colors are modified in hue, as if the complementary of the 
 neighboring color was added to each. These modifications, taken together, 
 constitute simultaneous contrast of color, which may be expressed in the fol- 
 lowing terms : Whenever the eye sees at the same time two contiguous 
 colors, they will appear as dissimilar as possible, both in their hue and in 
 their tone. When we look for a few moments at a given color, the eye spon- 
 taneously calls up the complementary to that color, which, being added to the 
 color first looked at, makes it appear duller or tarnished. The effect is the 
 same as if a quantity of gray were added to the color looked at, because the 
 complementary color added to the original color produces black. This call- 
 ing up of the secondary color by the eye constitutes the phenomenon of 
 successive contrast ; and the addition of this color so called up, to the origi- 
 nal color, constitutes mixed contrast. 
 
 It will be seen that the result of reviving a single color is different from 
 that produced by reviving two different colors, because the influence of the 
 juxtaposed color is absent, — there is no complementary color to add to the 
 color looked at. The height of tone exercises much influence upon the 
 modification ; for if, after looking at orange, we look at deep blue, this latter 
 will appear tinged with green rather than violet, — a result the reverse of that 
 presented by light blue. Whenever there is a great difference between two 
 contiguous colors, the difference is rendered more apparent by bringing the 
 same color successively in contrast with different colors belonging to the same 
 group. 
 
 As soon as we know the complementary of one color in contact with 
 another, it is easy to determine what kind of modification the second will 
 receive from the first, as this modification is the result of the mixture of 
 the complementary with the contiguous colors. The process is easy when 
 the contiguous colors are both primaries, and it is not more difficult when 
 they are both secondaries ; for we have only to consider that, the comple- 
 mentary called up being much less intense than the color to which it is 
 added, we obtain the result by subtracting from the latter secondary, a por- 
 tion of that primary which, with the complementary, forms white light ; thus, 
 orange, added as a complementary to green, neutralizes a portion of the 
 green, and consequently makes it appear yellower ; and green, added to a 
 portion of red in orange, neutrahzes it, and makes the orange appear 
 yellower. In opposing complementary colors, each enhances the value of 
 the other, in conformity with the phenomena of successive and mixed con- 
 trasts. 
 
48 
 
 The Antefix Papets, 
 
 The form of an object, and its gloss or polish, have a considerable 
 influence upon the effect of associated or contiguous colors. Form exerts its 
 influence by the effects of the light and shade it produces, which may con- 
 ceal the ill effects of two associated colors which are not glossy. Thus 
 flowers often exhibit associations of color which on plane surfaces would 
 have a disagreeable effect if these were not glossy ; as, for instance, the 
 sweet-pea, in which red and violet are associated. Blue and violet, which 
 do not have an agreeable effect on flat and unpolished surfaces, have a 
 very good effect in the plumage of certain birds and in the wings of butter- 
 flies ; for the injurious effect of the complementaries of these two colors 
 upon each other is lost through the influence of the metallic lustre of the 
 feathers and scales. 
 
 In associating complementary colors they mutually strengthen and purify 
 each other without going out of, if they are kept within their respective scales. 
 Therefore this association is best adapted to produce harmony of contrast in 
 painting, tapestry, stained glass windows, and between paper-hangings and 
 their borders, etc. In the association of non-complementary colors the result 
 is very different ; the complementary of one of the colors differing from the 
 other color to which it is added, causes a modification of hue in the two colors, 
 beside a modification of tone if they are not taken at the same intensity. Non- 
 complementary colors produce three different effects when placed in contact. 
 First, they mutually improve each other ; or second, one is improved while the 
 other is injured ; and third, they mutually injure each other. The greater the 
 difference between the colors, the more their association will be favorable to 
 their mutual contrast, and the nearer they are alike the greater will be the risk 
 that their association will prove injurious to their beauty. As, for example, take 
 a case where two non-complementary colors improve each other, as yellow and 
 blue. Being so dissimilar, their contrast is sufficiently great to produce a fa- 
 vorable association, although the associated colors belong to different scales of 
 yellow and blue. Then, as an instance where one color is improved and the 
 other is injured, take a blue, which is improved by yellow, and place it beside a 
 bluish violet: the blue will lose beauty by becoming greenish, while the orange 
 it adds to the violet will neutralize its excess of blue, and improve rather 
 than injure the bluish-violet color. And as an example of the third case, 
 where two non-complementary colors mutually injure each other, place a pure 
 violet and a blue together, and they will mutually injure each other, because 
 the first makes the second look green, and the second neutralizes the blue of 
 the violet and makes it look faded. It may happen that the colors are modi- 
 fied, but neither gain nor lose in beauty, or that one gains without the other 
 losing, and that one neither gains nor loses while the other loses. In the 
 association of two colors belonging to the same scale, or to scales nearly 
 allied but of tones very widely apart, the contrast of tone may have a favora- 
 ble influence upon the beauty of the light tone, because if the latter is not 
 a pure color, its association with the deep tone, brightening it, will purify what 
 gray it has, 
 
 All the primary colors gain by juxtaposition with white, but the binary 
 
Harmony and Contrast of Color. 
 
 49 
 
 arrangements which result from them are not equally agreeable ; and it is 
 to be remarked that the depth of tone of a color has a great influence upon 
 the effect of its conjunction with white. The binary assortments in the order 
 of their greatest beauty, are as follows : Light blue and white, rose and white, 
 deep yellow and white, bright green and white, violet and white, orange and 
 white. 
 
 Black may be combined most advantageously, not only with sombre colors, 
 to produce harmony of analogy, but also with light and brilliant colors, to 
 produce harmony of contrast. Chinese artists make excellent use of it ; they 
 often judiciously employ it on furniture, painting, ornaments, etc. No com- 
 bination of primary colors with black is disagreeable, but there exists among 
 them a generic difference of harmony, which is not shown, at least to nearly 
 the same degree, in the binary combinations of white with the same colors. 
 In fact, the brilliancy of white is so predominant that, whatever may be the 
 difference of lightness or brilliancy observed between the various associated 
 colors, there will always be the harmony of contrast, according to what has 
 been said of the influence of white in raising the tone and augmenting the 
 intensity of the color adjacent to it. 
 
 Black placed beside a color lowers its tone ; it acts as if we added black to 
 the complementary of the contiguous color. In some cases it impoverishes 
 it, as in the case of certain yellows. If a black pattern be placed upon a 
 colored ground the black will appear tinged with the complementary of the 
 ground upon which it is placed. 
 
 Gray bodies, properly selected as to intensity of tone, when contiguous to 
 colored bodies, exhibit the phenomena of contrasts of color more strikingly 
 than either black or white substances do. All the primary colors gain in 
 purity and brilliancy by the proximity of gray ; but the effects are far from 
 being similar or even analogous to those which result from the proximity of 
 the same colors to white. White allows each color to preserve its integ- 
 rity, and even heightens it by contrast, and can never be taken for a color 
 itself, but gray can ; for the gray becomes tinged with the complementary of 
 the adjacent color and may appear as a color itself. 
 
 Thus we see that colors undergo certain modifications, — by contact, by 
 the shape of the surface colored, the texture, the dulness or pohsh of the 
 surface covered, and by the quality of the light which illuminates it. We 
 also see th 2 effect of simultaneous, successive, and mixed contrasts; and, 
 moreover, that in associating colors the complementary arrangements are 
 superior to all others for harmony of contrast, provided the tones are of 
 nearly equal intensity ; and, again, that in associating non-complementary 
 colors the result is different, — not always productive of harmony or harmoni- 
 ous contrast ; and, further, we have seen the effects of associating colors with 
 white, black, or gray. Consequently, for a painter to be a perfect colorist, he 
 must not only imitate the model by reproducing the image faithfully, with 
 respect to the variously-colored light, but also with regard to harmony of tints 
 in the local colors and in the colors of the different objects imitated ; and 
 although there are colors belonging to the model which the painter cannot 
 7 
 
The Antefix Papers. 
 
 change without being unfaithful to nature, yet, in every composition, there 
 are also colors at his disposal which must be chosen so as to harmonize the 
 rest. 
 
 In a landscape the colors are determined by the subject, yet not so arbi- 
 trarily but that we can substitute for the true color that of a neighboring 
 scale. The artist may choose the color of the sky, imagine numerous acci- 
 dental effects, introduce into his composition animals, draped figures, car- 
 riages, etc., of which the form and color may be so selected as to produce the 
 best possible effect with the actual objects of the scene. A painter may 
 choose a dominant color which produces on every object in his composition 
 the same effect as if they were illuminated by a light of the same color, or 
 as if they were seen through a colored glass. Although the law of contrast 
 affords different methods of imparting value to a color, individual genius 
 alone can indicate the mode in which this idea should be realized in painting. 
 
Design Applied to Cast Objects, 
 
 51 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE APPLICATION OF PRINCIPLES OF DESIGN TO 
 CAST METAL OBJECTS. 
 
 It has been said by Lord Bacon that the history of the mechanical arts is 
 the most important branch of true philosophy; and we know that only those 
 nations who have felt the truth of this have ever attained any proud position 
 in the world of manufacture. The English and the French have investigated 
 with earnestness the principles which underlie design, have sought out and 
 endeavored to apply the rules which should govern and modify the desired 
 union of beauty and utility, and to this fact they are indebted for the high 
 reputation they have gained for the excellence of the work they produce. Let 
 us rejoice that the attention of our own people is being directed to this sub- 
 ject, and look forward with eagerness and trustfulness to the day when 
 America shall rank with England and France in the intrinsic value and artistic 
 beauty of her manufactures. 
 
 One of the most important general laws established by the inquiries of oth- 
 ers into the application of principles of design to manufactured articles, is 
 that, namely, the basis of the design of objects executed in any material which 
 nature offers to our use, should be a system of ornamentation strictly in har- 
 mony with the structure, both chemical and mechanical, of the finished arti- 
 cle, with the value of the materials of which it is composed, and with an 
 association of idea connected with them and with its purpose and probable 
 destination. 
 
 The systems of decorative treatment of two materials, similar in some 
 essential quaHties but diverse in others, should differ in the exact ratio of 
 those discrepancies ; and from the continual observance of such natural con- 
 ditions, it would seem easy to estabhsh, in time, a system of common-sense 
 design, within the limits of which the artist might exercise his fancy without 
 danger of extravagance. 
 
 Thus in the manufacture of metals, any attempt at novelty, to be satisfac- 
 tory to the cultivated taste, must be executed in subservience to at least a 
 three-fold influence : firstly, to that imposed by the elementary structure of 
 the metal, whether gold, silver, iron, or bronze ; and secondly, to that dedu- 
 cible from all the processes of manufacture devised by human ingenuity, 
 conducted in obedience to the peculiar properties of each metal ; and, thirdly, 
 
52 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 to that arising from emotions dependent upon a legitimate and sensible asso- 
 ciation of ideas founded upon a study of all that has been done in the best 
 ages of the past. 
 
 In considering the application of principles of design to cast metal objects, 
 it seems naturally to treat of them as applied to the formative process, and 
 as applied to the decorative process. In studying the first part of our sub- 
 ject, we shall need to consider, i, the character of the different metals ; 2, the 
 process of casting ; 3, the principles of design deduced from a consideration 
 of these two. 
 
 1. The character of the different uietals. — Gold, silver, iron, and bronze 
 are the principal metals pressed into the service of the arts. Gold and silver, 
 from their value, ductility, and malleability, are not so well adapted for casting 
 as for being wrought upon. Casting in silver has, however, been practised 
 to some extent. 
 
 Bronze (a compound of copper, tin, and other alloys), from its intractability 
 and brittleness, its excessive hardness of surface and facility of fusion, de- 
 mands a completely different method of treatment. Casting and chasing 
 appear to be best suited to its nature, and it lends itself with singular felicity 
 to the reproduction of the highest order of sculpture. Its compact texture, 
 shown by its peculiarly sonorous properties, dictates a system of hollow 
 casting. 
 
 Iron is capable of being wrought in various ways : it may be cast or ham- 
 mered cut or filed. Casting is the least artistic mode of treating iron ; but if 
 iron is to be cast, the patterns formed should be so fully adapted to this 
 method of manufacture that the mode of working may be readily apparent. 
 Cast iron should appear as cast iron and wrought iron as wrought iron. 
 
 2. The process of casting. — Casting is reducing a metal to a fluid state by 
 means of heat, and then pouring it into moulds, whose cavities it fills, and 
 thus constitutes the counterpart of the model by which the form of these cav- 
 ities has been determined. The most convenient mode of making moulds, 
 and that now universally employed, consists in selecting materials the parti- 
 cles of which possess sufficient cohesion to retain their form, and which 
 yet preserve, at the same time, sufficient openness of texture to allow of the 
 free escape of the heated vapors and gases generated at the moment when 
 the liquid metal comes in contact with the mould into which it is poured. 
 Certain varieties of sand are found to best answer these requisites ; but as 
 they vary in different cases, the qualities of the sand may be considera- 
 bly modified by the addition of materials possessing more or less cohesive 
 power, such as loam, brick-dust, charcoal, plaster, etc. The simplest opera- 
 tion in the foundry consists in making up a bed of sand, pressing a wooden 
 or metal pattern into it, removing the pattern, which leaves its imprint in the 
 sand, and running liquid metal into this matrix, which, on cooling, hardens 
 and retains the form of the pattern. In order to prevent the weight of the 
 metal from displacing the bank of sand, it is necessary to confine the sand in a 
 box. When only one box is employed, the upper face of the casting can only 
 be the level assumed by the liquid metal on running into the open mould. 
 
Design Applied to Cast Objects. 
 
 53 
 
 When, therefore, the casting requires a precise form on both sides, two such 
 boxes must be employed, the cavities in the one being fastened over and 
 opposite to those in the other, and an aperture being made to allow of pouring 
 the metal in to fill up the hollow formed between them. When the form of 
 the pattern is complex, several other boxes are added, and the whole being 
 securely bound together, the metal fills up the cavities formed by the impres- 
 sion of the pattern. This is the method of solid casting peculiarly adapted to 
 iron. 
 
 In a hollow casting^ usually applied to bronze, and always used in cast- 
 ing statues, statuettes, and vessels and vases in most metals, the method 
 of construction is different. After the rrfould has been made, a layer of clay 
 of the prescribed thickness of the metal is laid on the inside of it, and the 
 remainder of the space is filled up with the same material as the mould has 
 been composed of. The mould having been taken apart, pieces of metal 
 are inserted to keep the core in its place, and when the mould is again fitted 
 together, a space is left which will eventually be occupied by the metal. 
 
 3. Principles of for?native design dedjiced frojn a consideration of the 
 nature of metals and the process of casting. — From a consideration of 
 the nature of iron and the process of solid casting, Mr. Holtzappfel gives 
 us the following principles to be observed in designing any object in- 
 tended for this material and process : " The designs for foundry pat- 
 terns should always be a little taper in the parts which enter most deeply 
 into the sand, in order to assist their removal from the sand, when their pur- 
 poses will not be materially interfered with by such tapering. The sides and 
 edges of the pattern must also be made a little out of parallel or square, per- 
 haps as much as 1-16 to 1-8 of an inch to the foot. Sharp internal angles 
 should be avoided, as they leave a sharp edge in the sand, which is liable to 
 be broken down on the removal of the pattern, or to be washed down when 
 the metal enters into the mould. Sharp internal angles are also very inju- 
 dicious in respect to the strength of the castings. The designer must also 
 make provision that the contraction of the metal while cooling shall proceed 
 uniformly over the whole of the casting ; otherwise those portions which 
 retain their heat longest would tear away/rom those which had set most 
 quickly. Iron contracts nearly one per cent of its length ; brass nearly three 
 times as much." 
 
 The highest works of art in cast metal are statues, statuettes, end busts 
 of bronze. Mr. Wyatt gives us certain principles to be observed in the de- 
 sign of compositions intended for reproduction in this form. They give us 
 admirable hints of the differences to be observed in designing for objects 
 to be executed in dark-colored metals, or in light-colored substances. He 
 says : " One important element in designing the form of a bronze statue 
 is the background against which it is to be relieved. If this is light, as 
 when brought against the sky, greater fulness must be given to the pro- 
 portions of the limbs. If dark, as when the figure stands in a niche, a con- 
 trary proportion should be adopted, in order to restrain the lighter colored 
 substance from appearing to swell on to its darker ground. Care should 
 
54 
 
 The Antejix Papers, 
 
 be taken that the contour is clearly defined, not cut up, or so lost in costume 
 that the spectator has the uncomfortable impression that the body has swollen 
 to the dimensions of the flowing garments. Striking differences of proportion 
 manifest themselves between figures executed in marble and those in bronze. 
 In consequence of the dark color of bronze, every portion of the form, in order 
 to be clearly defined, requires a certain amount of conventional treatment, so 
 as to increase the sharpness and precision of the several forms and markings, 
 to enable the spectator to appreciate them at that point of view from which 
 he may Hkewise take in the general outlines upon which the effect of the 
 whole figure depends. A comparison of the Greek specimens of bronze work 
 with those ofVerrochio and Donatello will illustrate the precise points of 
 exaggeration by means of which great solidity of shadow was invariably ob- 
 tained. The light being supposed in every case to descend from above, the 
 under surface of every projection intended to throw a shadow upon a surface 
 beneath was always hollowed upwards, and brought to a fine edge only at its 
 extremity. Thus, the eyebrow was marked as a sharp line, and the eyes 
 sunk, as it were, in hollow sockets, increasing the depth of the tint of 
 shadow cast by the eyebrow by turning away from it those surfaces likely to 
 receive the light reflected from the cheek, nose, or other adjacent illuminated 
 portions of the head. The nostrils were likewise brought to sharp edges. 
 The whole form of the head showed that the artist was guided in his design- 
 ing by a consummate knowledge of the means necessary to compensate for 
 and overcome the optical difficulties attaching to the material." 
 
 It should always be remembered that we are dealing with a plastic material, 
 and may therefore employ curves and reliefs totally inappropriate to stone or 
 marble. There are a few general and indispensable requisites for the design 
 of a truly beautiful form for any object, and it is especially needful that these 
 should be carefully heeded in designing for works to be executed in cast 
 metal, on account of their possible multiplication through the medium of 
 casting, and also of their durability. 
 
 ist. An object must be so formed as to fulfil the purpose for which it is 
 intended. 2d. That purpose must in no way be disguised, but, on the con- 
 trary, should be apparent on th^ first cursory inspection. 3d. The general 
 outline should be symmetrical, and the disposition of the various parts so 
 proportioned as to appear strong and equal to the constructive duties they 
 may be called on to perform. 4th. We should never imitate ornament pecu- 
 liarly identified with stone or marble, in iron, bronze, or any metal ; never 
 construct in them what may be better executed in any other material ; and 
 always remember that a needless display of strength is just as weak as an 
 appearance of deficiency, and that both excesses are to the educated eye 
 almost equally objectionable. 5th. Lightness of effect is especially desirable 
 in designing the form of any object in cast metal. 
 
 Mr. Pugin says regarding metal work, " In all the ancient ornamental 
 metal-work we may discern a peculiar manner of execution, admirably suited 
 to the material, and quite distinct from that of wood and stone. The and- 
 irons which supported either the fuel logs where wood was burned, or grates 
 
Design Applied to Cast Objects, 55 
 
 for coal, were frequently of splendid design. The ornaments were generally 
 heraldic, and it was not unusual to work the finer parts on iron in brass for 
 relief of color and richness of effect. These form a striking contrast with 
 the inconsistencies of modern grates, which are not unfrequently made to 
 represent diminutive fronts of castellated buildings, with turrets, loop-holes, 
 windows, and doorways, all in a space of forty inches. The fender is a sort 
 of embattled parapet, with a lodge-gate at each end. The end of the poker 
 is a sharp-pointed finial, and at the summit of the tongs is a saint. It is im- 
 possible to enumerate half the absurdities of modern metal workers ; but all 
 these proceed from the false notion of disguising instead of beautifying 
 articles of utility. How many objects of ordinary use are rendered mon- 
 strous and ridiculous, simply because the artist, instead of seeking the most 
 convenient form, and then decorating it, has embodied some extravagance to 
 conceal the real purpose for which the article has been made. Neither rela- 
 tive scale, form, purpose, nor unity of style is ever considered by those who 
 design these abominations." 
 
 From this we see how necessary it is that all these considerations, relative 
 scale, form, purpose, and unity of style, should be ever in the mind of the 
 designer. Indeed, it seems as if he, of all men in the world, needs a large 
 amount of downright common-sense. With this possession he cannot perpe- 
 trate absurdities, but must make something good and worthy of his art. 
 
 But a few words need be said concerning the second part of our subject, — 
 Design applied to the surface decoration of cast-metal objects. Mr. John 
 Bell says that " the superior strength and compactness of metals over other 
 materials afford the opportunities also for superior fineness of parts in orna- 
 mentation. Those piercings and cuttings which would be inconsistent with 
 firmness in wood or porcelain are yet durable in metal." While the form of 
 the object should always be most carefully adapted to use, being studied for 
 elegance and beauty of line as well as for capacity, strength, mobility, etc., 
 care should be taken in ornamenting the construction, to preserve the general 
 form, and to keep the decoration subservient to it by low relief or otherwise. 
 The ornament should be so arranged as to enhance by its lines the symmetry 
 of the original form and assist its constructive strength. If arabesques or 
 figures in the round are used they should arise out of the ornamental and 
 constructive forms, and not be merely applied. 
 
 The amount of ornament should always be proportioned to the purpose of 
 the object and the condition of its probable proprietor. There should be no 
 direct imitation of nature, and yet no perversion of her forms. It would be 
 well if a system of judicious contrast of plane surfaces and enrichment were 
 carried throughout such works, and each ornament applied only to those 
 points where the general form appears to demand accentuation. It must 
 ever be remembered that repose is required to give value to ornament, which 
 in itself is secondary and not principal. 
 
56 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 VII 
 
 DESIGN AS APPLIED TO WROUGHT METAL, 
 
 There is the same difference between an object in wrought metal and one 
 in cast metal as there is between an original work in clay and its reproduction 
 in plaster of Paris. Both the wrought metal and the clay give you the thought 
 and touch of the artisan or artist, while the cast iron and the plaster cast are 
 but mechanical and cheap reproductions. It must be obvious that for trade 
 purposes, in which the element of cost is important, that which is capable of 
 being produced at the cheapest rate will have a high degree of popularity ; 
 and in the lower or subordinate features of decoration, in which sameness 
 or repetition must of necessity be practised, the use of material in a liquid 
 state — either molten, as in metal, or mixed, as in plaster, or impressionable 
 and soft, as in clay — is a matter of convenience, because of its readiness 
 to assume any form desirable for it to take. 
 
 The worker in metal who desires to elaborate an original idea in wrought 
 iron is one of the noblest of art-workmen. His work involves forethought, 
 strength, and skill : forethought to conceive the idea, strength and skill of 
 hand to express it. Every element of creative ingenuity is here called into 
 play, will, power, and experience are to achieve a victory over the half-melted 
 iron harder to achieve than many won on the battle-field, because it will be 
 a victory gained over the sturdy and unyielding material of one of the hardest 
 of substances ; but there is a hope in the workman that just as the strong 
 arm compels and shapes the unwiUing material, so the impress of his thought 
 will be fresh, having the virtue, in this imitative age, of being like itself and 
 not a mere echo of another's thought. It will have neither the vulgarity of 
 manufactured forms turned out by the hundred nor the unimportance of details 
 which must be reckoned by the thousand to have any effect at all. The smith 
 with his anvil and hammer has always been a symbol of honorable industry 
 from the most ancient times, and in some of the best art-epochs hand-workers 
 in metal have been numbered as artists. This is to be accounted for by that 
 which has already been described ; yet the artist is pre-eminently one who 
 makes original work, whether in metal, stone, or on canvas. It is said that 
 the character of true art-work is shown in its details, and some of the most 
 thorough and beautiful modern industrial art-work is to be found in the 
 wrought-metal screens, gates, candelabra, and other details of revived Gothic 
 architecture. 
 
Design as Applied to Wrought Metal. 57 
 
 Wrought-iron work, terra-cotta, encaustictile work, embroidery, and 
 stained glass stand forth amongst the shams and make-believes of many 
 branches of modern industrial art, like a company of honest men in a com- 
 munity of thieves and impostors, — and I say this because all good art, fine 
 or industrial, must have the impress of some originality and actual pur- 
 pose. To do work that is simply easy because it can be accomplished 
 without thought or labor, or because it meets the frivolous demands of a 
 fashion that is constantly changing, is to employ the serious labors of a life in 
 obedience to the demand of a trifling and unconscientious master. Anything 
 which can infuse into the works of our hands a seriousness which will make 
 us feel responsible, not only to ourselves but to the whole society in which we 
 live and the race of which we are members, is an advantage to all, and any 
 branch of art which involves the labor of the strong arm, the exercise of the 
 determined will, and the employment of forethought and skill, is equally 
 advantageous in the world of art and industry. To understand the principles 
 of design as applied to wrought metal in contradistinction to that which 
 would be appHcable to castings, we must define the difference between the 
 two. In cast work the original design has first to be made in another mate- 
 rial, such as clay or wood. A mould in sand is taken from this original, and 
 the metal in a liquid state poured into the mould. When the metal is cool 
 the mould is removed, leaving the cast-metal work in a rough state, to be 
 finished by hand labor, if in silver, gold, or bronze. This process in the 
 precious metals is called chasing, and, together with the sister art of emboss- 
 ing, is really wrought-metal work of a refined and artistic character. Thus 
 the cups and shields of Cellini or Flaxman were first modelled in clay, cast 
 into plaster, recast into silver, and finally finished or chased in the precious 
 metal itself. The limitations involved in this kind of work make it appro- 
 priate only to subjects in low-relief, in which there are no under cuttings, as 
 there must be in figures highly relieved from their background ; and many of 
 the most beautiful masterpieces of artistic metal-workers have been worked 
 up from outlines, with the added roundness suggested by good perspective. 
 Such work is a compromise between cast and wrought metal work, having 
 some of the characteristics of both. Perhaps the most complete example 
 that can be given of cast metal work is an ornamental railing which is cast 
 in lengths, each forming a detail complete in itself, and requiring no finishing 
 by the hand ; whilst an equally good instance of wrought-metal work would 
 be a scroll of stem and foliage hammered out from a single bar of iron upon 
 the anvil ; some of its more exuberant details being separately wrought and 
 bolted to the main stem by rivets. It must be evident from this that the 
 forms which can be worked out in wrought metal must depend for their 
 effect principally upon the purity and refinement of their outlines rather 
 than upon the delicate variations of their surfaces. What is to be done 
 in the material which is to be wrought, must be done whilst it is hot, 
 and therefore in a soft state, for as it cools it becomes harder and there- 
 fore more difficult to work. A great advantage of working in iron is the light- 
 ness and delicacy which are possible in so strong a material ; for it should 
 8 
 
58 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 be remembered that every stroke of the hammer increases the tenacity 
 and durability of the metal. A design which would appear weak and flimsy 
 in cast iron, because of the friable nature of the metal when cast; would 
 appear strong and graceful in wrought work, from the hardened, fibrous 
 nature of the hammered metal. Projections or isolated portions, liable to 
 fracture upon a comparatively slight touch if cast, are strong and durable 
 if hammered upon the anvil. These considerations must necessarily deter- 
 mine the character of wrought-iron work. The capacity for artistic effect 
 is so much greater when the relief or direction of the parts may be any- 
 thing we like to make them, than when it is limited by the comparative 
 weakness of the material, that designs for wrought iron should never resem- 
 ble designs for cast iron. It should not be entirely forgotten that in some 
 instances, where great strength is required, such as -in columns or pillars 
 which are to bear great weight, cast iron is said to be stronger than wrought, 
 on account of its resistance to compression. Thus wrought iron will bend 
 without breaking : cast iron cannot bend without being fractured ; so that 
 when a cross-strain or compression may be possible cast metal is preferable 
 to wrought. What concerns us, however, in considering the question of 
 design applied to this material, is the character of the ornament which may 
 be applied to it rather than the value of the metal as a building material. 
 
 While speaking generally of wrought iron, we must not forget that brass 
 also is often wrought. In bygone times even lead and pewter were both used 
 as materials for ornamental works in metal. In modern days, however, the 
 two great materials for wrought work are iron and brass. Brass, as being 
 the softer of the two, is more extensively used for ecclesiastical metal work, 
 candelabra, screens, hinges, and all work where elaborate ornament is in 
 place. Let us see how works in wrought metal may be used consistently, 
 having due regard to their constructive value as well as to their ornamental 
 effect. The weaker materials employed in the constructive arts require to be 
 strengthened by the strong materials ; and here comes in the skill of the 
 architect or the ingenuity of the engineer. In details, however, the orna- 
 mentist is employed ; and though in its grandest and most comprehensive 
 use, the engineer perhaps may shape the lines of a bridge or an ocean 
 steamer, in a manner that will unite both the strength and the beauty which 
 metal can be made to assume, or the architect may so use this noble material 
 that it may be the ultimate expression of graceful and accomplished service, 
 it yet belongs to the ornamentist to express in the most complete manner 
 the artistic capabiHties of a material which is both strong and beautiful. 
 Wrought metal may be used entirely by itself, being both constructive and 
 ornamental, as in the case of ornamental gates, whether for domestic or 
 ecclesiastical purposes, or it may be used in combination with other materials, 
 such as wood or stone. In wood it may be used to form the hinges of doors 
 or cabinets, or the handles for the same. In stone it may form the con- 
 nection between different slabs, or serve as a shield or protection for the more 
 delicate parts. Occasionally stone is protected by iron, as before the west 
 front of Antwerp Cathedral, where a public well is covered by a delicate 
 
Design as Applied to Wrought Metal, 
 
 59 
 
 network of wrought-iron tracery, said to have been the work of Quentin 
 Matsys, a mechanic who subsequently developed into a fine artist, in more 
 senses than one. It may not be irrelevant, both for artistic and social pur- 
 poses, to tell his story: "Quentin Matsys was a worker in iron at Antwerp 
 in the 15th century. He was what would be called in these days a black- 
 smith, because he wrought in a dull colored metal, in contradistinction to 
 a whitesmith, who works in lighter colored material of the same nature. At 
 the age of twenty he was already a lover of the beautiful, and being so, 
 could hardly help falling in love with the most charming object within the 
 range of his daily vision. That object was the daughter of a painter at Ant- 
 werp, who was not averse to being wooed, but could only be won by a 
 painter like her father. It has been said that the strongest of all feelings is 
 the love that a young man feels for .a young woman ; and we have the 
 authority of the most conscientious of historians for saying that this love 
 which Quentin Matsys felt, actually turned his anvil into a canvas, and his 
 hammers and files into brushes and pigments. He saw that this wayward 
 maiden's affections could only be gained through the medium of fine art, and 
 that in her view the industrial art of a blacksmith was not of this character, 
 Down went the hammer, and the anvil gave forth no more musical sounds. 
 The artisan forsook his noisy workshop and commenced a new apprenticeship 
 to fine art, at which he labored until success shone upon him ; and when 
 his first triumph as an artist was displayed to the approving gaze of the 
 maiden's father, the transformed blacksmith could exclaim like young Loch- 
 invar, " She is won ! They '11 have fleet steeds that follow." 
 
 This mediaeval example is not without parallel in later days. Some of the 
 very best modern artists began their experience in the workshop, and before 
 we can assume to lead and improve public taste in the higher branches of 
 art we ought to demonstrate to the world that we comprehend its necessities 
 as well as its enjoyments. 
 
 The principles of good design apply to this as to all industrial efforts, and 
 in the general statement of these principles the application of skill to work- 
 ing in iron is directed in common with other processes. The same general 
 laws which should guide the ornamentist in one branch of industrial art, 
 should, recognizing the difference of material employed, direct him in all. At 
 the same time, though fitness, adaptation to purpose, and beauty should be 
 alike characteristic of all branches of industrial art, there must be controlling 
 circumstances, in each, which will decide, not only the amount, but the char- 
 acter of the ornamentation employed. 
 
 Skill in design and arrangement having been acquired, its proper appli- 
 cation to special departments of industry will depend upon a knowledge of 
 special requirements, the nature of materials, and the capabilities of manu- 
 facture, all of which knowledge can be readily mastered by those who have 
 already overcome the greater difficulty of learning to design. 
 
 The highest authority yet recognized in England on the general subject of 
 industrial design, is Richard Redgrave, R. a., Inspector General for Art of 
 the British Government. The work which won for him this high reputation, 
 
60 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 was a report on design as represented at the Great International Exhibition 
 held in London in the year 1851. From this work is quoted the following, 
 relating to general principles in design : — 
 
 " The ornament of past ages was chiefly the offspring of handicraft labor : 
 that of the present age is of the engine and the machine. This great differ- 
 ence in the mode of production causes a like difference in the results. In the 
 old times the artist was at once designer, ornamentist, and craftsman, and to 
 him was indifferent the use of the pencil or the brush, of the hammer, the 
 chisel, or the punch. His hand and his mind wrought together, not only in 
 the design but in every stage of its completion, and thus there entered a 
 portion of that mind into every minute detail and into every stage of finish ; 
 and many a beautiful afterthought was embodied by the hand of the * cunning 
 artificer,' many a grace added to the work by his mastery and skill. He 
 worked, not to produce a rigid sameness, but as Nature works, she produces 
 nothing exactly similar to its fellow ; in every turn of every stage of growth, 
 in every flower and in every leaf, adding a changing grace, a differing beauty. 
 So he varies his labors with every feeling of his overflowing mind. But this 
 is not possible with the stamp, the mould, the press, and the die, the orna- 
 mental agents of our days : after the type or mould is made, all the products 
 are rigidly the same, whence arises a sickening monotony, a tiresome same- 
 ness, unknown in the works of nature and peculiar to these artificial works 
 of man; the varying mind has no share in their production, and man himself 
 becomes only the servant of the machine. Moreover, the old ornamentist 
 worked generally from feelings of piety, from love of his labors, or from the 
 desire of fame, — motives hardly known to the artist of this class in our days, 
 at least in this country. Who seeks fame from the ephemera of a season 
 Who loves a labor that is so soon to pass away ? Who cares for a work that 
 is not to be the child of his own hand, but to be produced in thousands by 
 the aid of machinery ? The toil of him of old times was spent upon the 
 thing itself and not upon a mere model for it ; the chalice, the cup, the lock 
 and key, the reliquary, were to be without repetition and without rivals ; he 
 sought to give them their highest excellence, and, laboring from one of the 
 feelings we have described, threw his whole soul into his work, so that it 
 became a thing for future ages to look upon and to prize. 
 
 " Not that handicraft or art-workmanship is utterly excluded from our manu- 
 factures ; it is only partially so, making more painfully evident how greatly 
 ornamental art has suffered from its new union with machinery. Wherever 
 ornament is wholly effected by machinery, it is certainly the most degraded 
 in style and execution ; and the best workmanship and the best taste are to 
 be found in those manufactures and fabrics wherein handicraft is entirely or 
 partially the means of producing the ornament, as in china and glass, in works 
 in the precious metals, carving, etc. This partly arises from the facilities 
 which machinery gives to the manufacturer, enabling him to produce the 
 florid and overloaded as cheaply as the simple forms, and thus to satisfy the 
 large market for the multitude, who desire quantity rather than quality, and 
 value a thing the more the more it is ornamented. This state of modern 
 
Design as Applied to Wrought Metal. 6i 
 
 manufacture, whereby ornament is multif)lied without limit from a given 
 model, by the machine or the mould, ought at least to awaken in the manu- 
 facturer a sense of the importance of the first design. One would think that 
 what was to be produced by thousands and tens of thousands should at least 
 be a work of beauty, and no pains be spared to ensure its excellence. The 
 cost of the first design or model must in such a case be a mere atom when 
 divided among its myriad prototypes. It would seem strange, too, that any 
 one could be found to throw away great expense upon dies and moulds, to 
 carry out a design which in itself was hardly thought worth paying for. Yet 
 often in this country artists are paid little better than workmen, and a belief 
 seems to prevail that knowledge, skill, and taste come by nature. The artist 
 has often no interest in the result of his labors, his name is unknown, his pay 
 is niggardly, and what there may be of beauty and excellence in his work is 
 often spoiled by the alterations of the manufacturer, who makes no scruple 
 of setting his own taste above that of the artist, and altering and changing a 
 design at his sole pleasure. In France, and some parts of Germany, where 
 taste has long been cultivated and the value of ornamental design is better 
 understood, these relations are better understood also ; and in this country, 
 if good taste is to prevail, the manufacturer must learn to appreciate more 
 highly the value of the designer's labors, and must seek to foster his talents 
 and stimulate his amour propre. 
 
 " Such works in iron as gates, balconies, and panels are, for the greater 
 part, in cast metal, which, of late years, from its capability of cheap ornamen- 
 tation, has almost wholly superseded wrought iron for these purposes. When 
 the object is intended to be fixed and immovable, as a balcony or panel, cast 
 work is not unsuitable, and is capable of much beauty of ornamental design. 
 The ornament may add to the strength by its numerous articulations, while 
 it is light and elegant in its forms. Works of this kind are generally of a size 
 to admit of casting in one piece, ensuring thereby strength and lightness by 
 continuity of parts. But in cast iron constructions intended to be movable, 
 as in the various kinds of gates, a very different character of design is neces- 
 sary ; in the first place, because entire casting is not always possible, both 
 from the difficulty of running the metal into the numerous ramifications of the 
 ornament in works of such mcreased size, and from the fear of warping in 
 the cooling, as well as the great expense of a mould, which is saved by form- 
 ing the ornament of a series of parts. This leads to the necessity of framing 
 the work in wrought, and applying the ornamental details in cast iron ; but 
 hence results this evil, — that the ornament has little constructive use, and is 
 apt to look rather an addition than an integral part of the work. In the park- 
 gates exhibited, great pains have been taken to get over this difficulty, but 
 not with success, since the two metals are joined in parts wholly at variance 
 with constructive strength ; in fact, it is a wrought-iron design, partly executed 
 in cast metal. Moreover, cast-iron ornament is necessarily far heavier than that 
 of wrought iron, from the extreme brittleness of the cast metal. This heavi- 
 ness is sadly opposed to its real constructive strength in the manner usually 
 adopted for putting together, the ornamental parts of such structures being 
 
62 
 
 The A^itefix Papers. 
 
 riveted or screwed into the framing. There are smaller points of attachment 
 than in wrought iron ; the parts bed themselves less perfectly at the junction, 
 since it is impossible to assist this union with the hammer, and the metal has 
 small tenacity, and easily breaks with any sudden jar ; thus there is much 
 less power to support, while there is of necessity much greater weight to bear, 
 and without very careful and well-considered design, making the ornament as 
 far as possible a brace to the work, the whole is apt to be an insecure aggre- 
 gation of parts, without constructive unity or truth. In large works, cast in 
 one piece, such difficulties are readily surmounted, as weight can then be 
 made to add strength, instead of detracting from it. In the old hammer- 
 wrought gates, the ornament was not only a truly integral part of the work, 
 but most materially assisted in the general support. Thus great lightness 
 and elegance were, in this case, consistent with great strength, since the orna- 
 mental details supplied a means, not only of tying and bracing the work 
 together, but of preventing the front of the gate from drooping with its own 
 weight, to the great hinderance of its use, and which in cast works of this kind 
 has often to be assisted by the use of friction rollers, — a make-shift that the 
 older workmen would have despised. When, therefore, we consider the varied 
 beauty of which wrought iron is capable, its far greater durability, its tenacity 
 and power of resisting accidents, the individuality of design which arises 
 from its being wrought by the hand instead of cast in a mould (thereby leaving 
 the fancy and the feeling of the workman untrammelled), it seems not too 
 much to say that it is to be hoped the use of the wrought metal will again pre- 
 vail over that of cast for such purposes." 
 
 From Scott's ''Half-Hour Lectures on Art" the following extracts are 
 selected : — 
 
 " Iron, as has been already remarked, is by far the most important of the 
 metals, and is also the most difficult to procure and prepare. The armor of 
 the ancients was brazen, and the weapons of the common soldiers also, down 
 to a comparatively late date, before our era. Whether Homer was acquainted 
 with iron at all is a question among his commentators, although Hesiod, 
 about the same time, along with the Golden, Silver, and Brazen, mentions the 
 Iron Age. Whether iron was worked in Britain at the Roman conquest of the 
 island is also doubtful, although Caesar says rings of iron were circulated as 
 money. If so, they might have come in exchange in commerce ; rings of 
 gold used for a similar purpose were certainly in circulation. Of what metal 
 the swords or scythes were made with which the axles of the native chariots 
 were armed does not appear. But it is quite certain our iron works were in 
 active operation immediately after the Roman settlement, as Roman coins and 
 pieces of Samian ware have been found under, and mixed with, the cinder-heaps 
 or accumulations of scoria in the forest of Dean in Sussex, and in the neighbor- 
 hood of Bradford, Wilts. Hadrian entered Britain 120, and Scrivenor, in his 
 history of the iron trade, supposes it probable that the fabrica ox ^xtzX military 
 forge was established at Bath in the following year. Manufactories of arms 
 had been then lately introduced as part of the Roman system, and must have 
 been found highly advantageous, as they were planted in such parts of subju- 
 
Design as Applied to Wrought Metal. 63 
 
 gated provinces as presented abundance of iron. These fabriccB were organ- 
 ized colonies or colleges of armorers. The armor-smiths working in these 
 factories were formed into companies, each governed by a head, the business 
 of these companies being to make arms for the legion to which they were 
 attached. The arms so made, when not required for distribution, were piled 
 up in adjacent arsenals. Each armorer had a stipend settled upon him, and 
 was not allowed to leave the colony, having a stigma or mark burned into his 
 arm on becoming a member of the fabrica. Nothing escaped the quick sight 
 of these civilized invaders ; and although, after four centuries of rule, the 
 Romans left Britain little the better for their refinements, while in possession 
 they appear to have been actively employed in many arts connected with 
 metals. Coining was carried on in several places : they tried for gold, by 
 breaking up the quartz now lying in enormous mounds near Lampeter ; silver 
 they also found ; and pigs of lead, stamped with Roman names, have frequently 
 been recovered in Derbyshire and elsewhere. 
 
 " The first distinct mention of native iron works is in the Doomsday Book. 
 In this record the city of Gloucester was required to pay royal tribute in the 
 shape of iron, — thirty-six dicars of iron, ten bars to a dicar, and one hundred 
 iron rods for nails or bolts. Shortly afterwards iron and steel began to be im- 
 ported from Germany and other countries. The German merchants of the 
 steel- yard, of whom we now hear, are thought to have been traders in these met- 
 als, dealing at a place so called. The defensive armor of the period, made in 
 various parts of Europe, was constructed of fine steel rings, woven together to fit 
 the body closely, and admirably tempered, the helmets being caps of polished 
 plate, to the edge of which ring-mail for the neck was attached. In the pub- 
 lic records of England, which contain an infinity of curious matter, we find 
 some notices of iron worth extracting. In the thirteenth year of Edward II, 
 the Sheriff of Surrey and Sussex is ordered to provide horse shoes and nails 
 for the expedition against the Scots. A little later, in 1327, we hear of can- 
 non, supposed to have been then first used in that country by Edward III in 
 his invasion of Scotland. These were made of banded iron till the invention 
 of gun metal much improved the weapon, about the middle of the fifteenth 
 century. Still importation increased, not only of the material, but of manu- 
 factured articles of all sorts, and an Act of Parliament was at last procured 
 by the hammer-men of London and other towns, in 1483, prohibiting the 
 importation of many articles of iron-work. 
 
 " The abandonment of beaten iron as a material for the treatment of the 
 designer is much to be regretted, its strength and elastic character fitting it 
 so well for tracery and foliage, and qualifying it for taking an expression at 
 the hand of the artist which no other material can supply. 
 
 " The stroke of the hammer has infinitely more expression than any cast 
 from a mould, even were the molten metal much more ductile and better fitted 
 for sharp castings than we ever find it." 
 
 My last extracts are from Dresser's " Principles of Decorative Design." 
 
 "There are various modes of working metal. It may be cast, hammered, 
 cut, engraved, and manipulated in various ways. Little that is satisfactory 
 
64 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 can result from casting. Casting is a rough means of producing a result, 
 and at best achieves the formation of a mass which may be less troublesome 
 to cut into shape than a more solid piece of metal ; but casting without the 
 application of other means of working metal achieves little of an art nature. 
 
 Let us take a sugar-basin. What form should it have ? The handles are 
 often so small as to be partially or wholly useless ; it not unfrequently hap- 
 pens that only one or two fingers can rest on the handle, owing to its small- 
 ness, while the thumb has to be placed within the orifice of the basin when it is 
 desired to move it. This should not be so : if a handle is to exist at all it 
 should be so formed as to be useful and afford a means of moving the object 
 with ease and comfort. To form a handle as a mere ornament is an absurd- 
 ity ; for the handle is part of the vessel structurally, while the ornamenta- 
 tion is an after and separate consideration. In order to its existence a vessel 
 must be constructed, but when formed it need not of necessity be orna- 
 mented ; ornamentation must ever be regarded as separate from construction. 
 
 Damascene work is of great interest. Metal of one color is inlaid into 
 metal of another color. India produces, perhaps, the rarest examples of this 
 kind of work, the Indians being experts at this kind of manufacture ; but 
 the Indian work consists chiefly of silver inlaid in iron. This mode of work 
 seems to be capable of producing many beautiful effects, as all who have 
 examined the large inlaid hookahs of India will admit. 
 
 Having chosen a form for a vessel, the next question with which we have 
 to deal is. Will it require a handle and spout It is curious that while the 
 position of a spout and handle in relation to a vessel is governed by a simple 
 natural law, we yet rarely find them placed as they should be. This is the 
 more curious as a vessel may become practically of great weight, owing to 
 the handle being misplaced. A pound weight is easily lifted, but when 
 applied to the longer end of the steel-yard it will balance a hundred weight. 
 If this principle is applied to a tea-pot, which actually weighs but little, it may 
 yet be very heavy to lift. In nineteen cases out of twenty, handles are so 
 placed on tea-pots and similar vessels that they are, in use, lifted only by 
 a force capable of raising two or three such vessels, if the principle of the 
 steel-yard was not acting against the person who uses the vessel. 
 
 The object of art is the giving of pleasure ; the mission of the artist is 
 that of giving ennobHng pleasure. If, as an artist, I give pleasure, I, to an 
 extent, fulfil my mission ; but I do so perfectly only when I give the greatest 
 amount of the most refined pleasure by my art that it is possible for me to 
 give. If, by producing works that can be procured by many, I give pleasure, 
 it is well that I do so ; but if the many fail to derive pleasure from my works, 
 then I must address myself to the few, and be content with my lesser mission. 
 Education appears to be necessary to the appreciation of all art : the artist, 
 then, is a man who appeals to the educated. 
 
 Utility and beauty are not inseparable ; if an article of any kind is in- 
 tended to answer any particular end, it should be fitted to answer the end 
 proposed by its formation ; but after it is created, as a work of utility, care 
 must be exercised in order that it be also a work of beauty. With due con- 
 
Design as Applied to Wrought Metal. 65 
 
 sideration, almost every work may be rendered both useful and beautiful, and 
 it must ever be the aim of the intelligent ornamentist to render them so. 
 
 Casting is the least artistic mode of treating iron ; but if iron is to be 
 cast, the patterns formed should be so fully adapted to this method of manu- 
 facture that the mode of working may be readily apparent. It is foolish to 
 make cast iron appear as wrought iron. Cast iron should appear as cast 
 iron, and wrought iron as wrought iron. Cast iron is brittle, and must not be 
 relied upon as of great strength ; while wrought iron is tough, and will bend 
 under great pressure rather than break. Wrought iron can be readily bent 
 into scrolls, or the end of a rod of metal can be hammered flat and shaped 
 into the form of a leaf, and parts can be welded together or fastened by small 
 collars, pins, or screws. 
 
 In iron work the manifestation of a true constructive principle is beyond 
 all things desirable. Iron, being a strong material, should not be formed 
 into heavy masses unless immense weight has to be sustained, or very great 
 strength is required. If we form lamps, candelabra, and such works of iron, 
 it is obvious that the portions of metal employed in the construction must be 
 thin, as the material is of great strength. Were we to form such works of wood, 
 then a greatly increased thickness of material would be necessary in order 
 that the same strength be secured, as wood is not nearly so strong as iron. 
 
 Notice the ease with which iron may be treated if a correct mode of work- 
 ing be employed. Let a bar of iron be taken which is about half an inch in 
 thickness by one and a quarter broad. This can be rolled into a volute, or 
 its end can be hammered out into stems and leaves, and to it can be attached 
 other leaves by rivets, screws, or ties, or it can be bent into any structural 
 form. Let the student study the shapes into which simple bars of iron can 
 be beaten — both mentally, and by observing well-formed works. 
 
 Brass, copper, and other metals may be associated with iron in the forma- 
 tion of any works. If well managed, brass and other bright metals may 
 act as gems, that is, they may give bright spots ; but where the bright 
 metals are used with this view, care must be exercised in order that the 
 bright spots be formed by beautiful parts, and that their distribution be just, 
 for that which is bright will attract first attention." 
 
 Having the example of the best men iu past days to guide us, let us en- 
 deavor to prove that Art is as capable of beautifying daily life as she is compe- 
 tent to excite the most pious and patriotic aspirations. Let us strive to show 
 that underlying the highest requirements of life there is first a necessity or 
 service, and that without it the mere affectation of service, even if rendered in 
 the most ornamental manner, is a delusion and a snare. For this reason, 
 work in wrought metal, from its capacity of service in the first place, and its 
 capability of refined art expression in the second, is a thing which should 
 have our respect and love. It is capable of being in the highest degree ser- 
 viceable and in the most exalted degree beautiful ; and therefore we should 
 regard this art of the hand-worker in wrought metal as one of the means by 
 which the love of art,^ and the industrial use of art, which together make up 
 the highest ideal of industrial art, can be expressed. 
 9 
 
66 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 DESIGN APPLIED TO CARVED OBJECTS. 
 
 " Design," says Redgrave, " has reference to the construction of any 
 work both for use and beauty, and therefore includes its ornamentation also. 
 Ornament is merely the decoration of a thing constructed." 
 
 The first aim of the designer of any article must be to render it useful. 
 It must be made not only useful, but as perfectly suited to the purpose for 
 which it is intended as it can be. It matters not how beautiful the object is 
 intended to be, it must first be formed as though it were a mere work of 
 utility ; and after it has been carefully made with this end in view, it may then 
 be rendered as beautiful as possible ; for an object may be beautiful, and yet 
 useful. 
 
 The art of carving in wood is of ancient date. Nuremberg was celebrated 
 for its wood-carvings centuries ago, and this kind of decoration was long 
 since used for adorning the altars in German and Belgian churches. 
 
 The different processes of carving in wood are interesting, as affording an 
 idea of the different designs employed. 
 
 Carvings may be of two kinds, either in what is called low-relief, being 
 rather flat, or only slightly raised ; or high-relief, where the figures are made 
 to stand out more boldly from the background. The tools for wood-carving 
 are very few, — a mallet, one or two chisels (one of them known as the V 
 chisel, from the shape of its sharp-pointed blade), several gouges of different 
 sizes, files, etc. etc. The outline of the design may be drawn upon the 
 wood for carving in low-relief, and a shaded drawing also may be used as a 
 guide. The designs for large pieces of carving are often made on a small 
 scale, and then enlarged by the workman that he may have a full-sized draw- 
 ing to work from. First, the whole is blocked out by cutting around the prom- 
 inent figures, and then, following the lights and shadows in the drawing, 
 which represent the different kinds of relief, they are rounded into shape. This 
 is far less difficult than carving designs in high-relief, in which case a much 
 thicker block of wood is required, as many of the forms which are flat in the 
 drawing may be, in the carved work, in a plane oblique to the ground-work, 
 or even at right angles with it. For example, suppose it is desired to carve 
 a flower which is seen in profile. The carver cuts into the solid block with 
 the chisel and mallet in the vicinity of the flower, leaving a hole, the size 
 
Design Applied to Carved Objects. 
 
 67 
 
 of which varies according to the object to be carved. Then, on one of the 
 sides of this cavity in the wood, he marks the outlines of the flower in pencil, 
 and proceeds to carve it ; but it is evident that the workman has much judg- 
 ment and taste if he successfully catches the spirit of the design, and ex- 
 presses it upon the wood. Sometimes, where it is essential that a form 
 should be exactly reproduced, as of a face or head, a model in plaster is given 
 him, and in machine carving this model is indispensable. 
 
 I propose to give a little sketch ot this method of carving ; for though the 
 best and most finished work is not done in this way, it is useful in repro- 
 ducing different forms in a rapid manner. A copy of any — even an elab- 
 orate — work may be made by means of machinery, though the ornament 
 will lack that smoothness of surface and delicacy of finish characteristic of 
 good works. Machinery will do for the sculptor and carver what engraving 
 has done for the painter. The machine for wood-carving consists of two parts. 
 The first or horizontal part is the bed-plate and floating-table, on which the 
 blocks of wood to receive the carving and the copy are placed ; the second 
 or vertical part of the machine is that which carries the tracing and cutting 
 tools, the only motion of which, except the revolution of the cutters, is ver- 
 tical. The object to be copied is placed between two blocks of wood ; the 
 tracer is placed over the object, and the cutters over the blocks of wood. 
 These three — the tracer and cutters being fastened to an unyielding bar — 
 obey exactly the same vertical motion : as the tracer is raised or depressed 
 in passing over the model, so are the cutters lifted from or sunk into the 
 wood. There is a treadle below the table which is managed by the work- 
 man's foot, and by it he is enabled to raise or depress the cutter. Thus any 
 design, howev^er elaborate, if modeled in clay, may be executed in wood by 
 machinery. But machine-carving is often faulty in design and inappropriately 
 used, and plain wood, without decoration, is in far better taste than most of 
 the styles of machine-carving used at the present day. 
 
 Wood-carving admits of minute elaboration ; and yet there may be an 
 excess of finish in works of carving connected with cabinet work ; for if the 
 finish is too dehcate, there is a lack of effect in the res"ult. A piece of furni- 
 ture is not a miniature-work, which is to be investigated in every detail. It 
 is an object of utility, which is to appear beautiful in a room, and is not to 
 command undivided attention. 
 
 Dresser says, " Carving should be sparingly used, and is best confined to 
 mouldings, or projecting or terminal ends. If employed in mouldings, those 
 members should be enriched which are more or less completely guarded 
 from dust and injury by some overhanging member. If more carving is 
 used, it should certainly be a mere enrichment of necessary structure." He 
 says further, " I am not fond of carved panels ; but should these be 
 employed, the carving should never project beyond the styles surrounding 
 them, and in all cases of carving, no pointed members must protrude so as 
 to injure the person or destroy the dress of those who use the piece of furni- 
 ture. If carving is used sparingly, it gives us the impression that it is 
 valuable ; if it is lavishly employed, it appears to be comparatively worthless. 
 
68 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 The aim of art is the production of repose. A large work of furniture which 
 is carved all over cannot produce the necessary sense of repose, and is, 
 therefore, objectionable." 
 
 Wood-carving is appropriate for cabinets, coffers, sideboards, and other 
 repositories of household goods ; but it should be sparingly used upon chairs, 
 tables, couches, and in all situations where a knotted lump of wood is likely 
 to prove uncomfortable to the touch. Ancient decorative carving is far 
 superior to modern work of the same sort, being sometimes rude, but pos- 
 sessing much strength and beauty. 
 
 It is oftentimes considered by some of the so-called best designers that 
 the best proof of good carving is its exact imitation of nature ; but it is no 
 less true for carved work as for other decorative work, that natural objects 
 employed in a design should be conventionalized, though the foliage em- 
 ployed in Gothic architecture in the decoration of the capital is carried 
 around the bell in something of a wreath-like form, and often exhibits much 
 of natural freedom. The oak, the ivy, the hazel, the vine, the fern, etc., are 
 frequently very beautifully and closely copied from nature. 
 
 Wood-carving, applied as a means of decoration to doors of cabinets and 
 other similar places, should be treated after a thoroughly abstract fashion. 
 Table-frames are sometimes decorated with a delicate bas-relief of ornament, 
 which is very pleasing. 
 
 The character, situation, and extent of ornament should always depend on 
 the nature of the material employed as well as the use of the article itself. 
 Mouldings were originally employed to decorate surfaces of wood or stone, 
 which sloped either vertically or horizontally from one plane to another. 
 Thus, the mouldings of a door represent the bevelled or chamfered edge of 
 the stout frame- work which holds the slighter panels. It is obvious, there- 
 fore, that these mouldings ought to be worked in the solid wood, and form a 
 part of the frame -work referred to, and they should not be allowed to project 
 beyond the surface of the door-frame. The same is true of the cornice 
 which crowns the book-case. 
 
 The best and most picturesque furniture of all ages has been simple in 
 general form, though often enriched with elaborate carved work. Old 
 frames for mirrors, made in the last and previous centuries, were moulded 
 and carved out of solid wood. In former days, when wood was cheaper than 
 it is now, oak-panels were commonly used, not only in the halls and passages, 
 but in many rooms of even a small-sized London house. The judicious 
 association of the " bead fillet and hollow " for mouldings was a simple, 
 honest, and frequently effective mode of decoration. 
 
 In connection with this subject, much might be said about architecture, 
 the decoration of stone columns, etc. In Egyptian architecture the columns 
 of the temples are of a very ornamental character, and in most cases were 
 formed of a bundle of papyrus stems, bound together by thongs or straps, 
 the heads of the plant forming the capital of the column and the stems the 
 shaft. In some cases the lotus was substituted for the papyrus, and in other 
 instances the palm-leaf was used in a similar way. 
 
Design Applied to Carved Objects. 
 
 69 
 
 We have here an opportunity of noticing how the mode of building, how- 
 ever simple or primitive in character, first employed by a nation, may become 
 embodied in its ultimate architecture ; for undoubtedly the rude houses first 
 erected in Egypt were formed largely of bundles of the papyrus, which were 
 gathered from the river-side, as wood was rare in Egypt ; and ultimately, 
 when buildings were formed of stone, an attempt was made to imitate in 
 the new material the form which the old reeds presented. But, mark, the 
 imitation was no gross copy of the original work, but a well-considered and 
 perfectly-idealized work, in which the bundle of reeds received true architec- 
 tural qualities. 
 
 In one respect the Greeks resembled the Egyptians, for they rarely created 
 new forms. When once a form became sacred to the Egyptians it could not 
 be altered : but with the Greeks, while bound by no such law, the love of old 
 forms was great ; yet the Greeks did not seek simply to reproduce what they 
 had before created, but labored hard to improve and refine what they had 
 before done ; and even through succeeding centuries they worked at the 
 refinement of simple forms and ornamental compositions, which have become 
 characteristic of them as a people. 
 
 In treating of design it is difficult to separate ornament from architecture. 
 The material at command, the religion of the people, and the climate have, 
 to a great extent, determined the character of the architecture of all ages 
 and nations ; but they have, to the same extent, determined the nature of the 
 ornamentation of the edifices raised. Ornament always has sprung from 
 architecture, or been a mere reflex of the art-principles of the building deco- 
 rated. We cannot rightly consider ornament without architecture. Decora- 
 tion should be in accordance with the traditional development of original and 
 necessary forms. 
 
 In reference to sculpture, the following quotations from Mrs. Jameson may 
 not be inappropriate : — 
 
 "The word sculpture (from sculpo, to carve) signifies whatever is cut or 
 carved into shape. We apply the word, technically, to all the productions of 
 the plastic or formative arts ; that is to say, to all imitations of natural forms 
 fashioned out of any solid material, whether they be modelled in clay or wax, 
 cast in metal or gypsum, carved in wood or ivory, hewn in stone or metal. 
 
 "As we distinguish the productions of sculpture, considered as one of the 
 fine arts, under two divisions, in the first we comprise all insulated, complete 
 figures, single or grouped. These we call, in a general way, statues ; they 
 may be standing, seated, or recumbent. In the second division we place all 
 figures which are partly raised on a flat plane, which we style, in a general 
 way, bas-reliefs. 
 
 " But when we would describe accurately we distinguish between — I. Basso- 
 Relievo, bas-relief or low relief, where the figures are shghtly projected. II. 
 Mezzo-Relievo, half relief, where half the figure appears as if sunk in the 
 block, and half above it. III. Alto-Relievo, plain relief, high relief, where 
 the figure is almost detached from the plane behind, standing out from it, 
 though still not wholly detached from it. 
 
70 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 " In the mediaeval sculpture, and the modern imitations of it, we find a mixed 
 style, in which all the three degrees of relief are used, the figures in the back- 
 ground being in very flat relief, those in the middle-ground in half relief, and 
 those immediately in front in high relief. 
 
 " One of the first considerations of sculpture is the material. We should 
 observe that the management and capabilities of different substances are 
 considerations of great importance ; that figures which look well in one 
 material do not look well in another ; that metal requires a different treat- 
 ment from marble, and is fitted for purposes where marble would be misplaced. 
 Size is another of the external conditions of sculpture which must be well 
 considered. Many subjects which are extremely graceful and ornamental, of 
 small size, become repulsive when enlarged. When a figure is rather above 
 nature we style it 'heroic'; when much above the natural height it is 
 'colossal.' If a statue be half the size of life, or less, it is called a statu- 
 ette. Some of the antique colossal statues may be diminished into statuettes, 
 retaining their grace and even their sublimity ; but a subject originally con- 
 ceived of a small size can seldom be enlarged to colossal dimensions. 
 
 " The locality for which a statue is intended is also of great importance, — 
 whether for a church, a temple, a hall, a gallery, a room, or a garden ; whether 
 for a high or a low situation. A statue which is to be placed in the open air, 
 or to enter into an architectural composition, or to form part of a sacred 
 monument or an historical memorial, requires a different treatment from one 
 which is to decorate a room in a palace. A central situation in a large space 
 requires that the figure and attitude should display beauties in every point of 
 view. The management of bas-relief requires great skill, that neither the 
 figures be too numerous nor the lights too multiplied and broken, for then we 
 lose distinctness. Simplicity, therefore, is one of the necessary conditions of 
 a fine bas-relief. 
 
 " Sculpture is much more limited in regard to subject than painting, — a con- 
 sideration we must carefully keep in view, for very frequently a work of sculp- 
 ture is displeasing, not from any fault in the execution, but because it ought 
 never to have been executed at all, because it represents that which is essen- 
 tially unfitted for sculptural treatment. We should be able in looking round 
 these courts of modern sculpture to designate the subject, its appropriate 
 conception and artistic treatment. 
 
 " The subject is classical when it is selected from the ancient mythology and 
 poetry. Thus, Cupid is a classical subject, whether treated a V antique with 
 Greek simplicity and consummate purity of taste, or with modern sentiment. 
 
 " Strictly speaking, modern sculpture would comprise all that is not antique 
 sculpture. But for the purposes of critical discrimination, we divide the his- 
 tory of sculpture into five periods : — 
 
 "i. That which preceded the highest development of Greek art, com- 
 prising the Egyptian, Ninevite, and Lycian remains. 2. What we call the 
 " Antique," comprehending all the sculpture of the Greeks and Romans, 
 down to the complete subversion of the Roman Empire, that is, from 
 about B. C. to the sixth century of our era. 3. Mediaeval sculpture, 
 comprehending all those productions of the art which date from the 
 
Design Applied to Carved Objects, 
 
 n 
 
 sixth to the twelfth century. During this time we find sculoture chiefly 
 in alliance with architecture, and devoted almost entirely to religious pur- 
 poses. The examples which remain to us of this period we call Byzantine 
 and Gothic. They are often curious for their significance, and interesting 
 from their sentiment ; but as far as knowledge of art or elegance of form is 
 concerned, they must be pronounced crude. 4. The period which we style 
 the Renaissance (revival) comprehends all the productions of sculpture from 
 the revival of literature and art in the fourteenth to the end of the seventeenth 
 century. In the beginning of this time the art was struggling between a 
 newly-awakened admiration for the beautiful remains of antiquity and an 
 ignorance of the principles on which they were produced. There was a 
 leaning to the picturesque and Gothic in style, redeemed by exquisite grace 
 and elevated feeling, and often by an elaborate elegance of execution. But 
 by degrees, as the real spirit of antique art was misapprehended, and the imi- 
 tation of nature was neglected and even contemned, the taste became more 
 and more mistaken and depraved and reached its utmost point of caprice and 
 degradation in the works of Bernini and his followers, towards the close of 
 the seventeenth century. 
 
 "The observer will find in the various courts of architecture and sculpture 
 at the Crystal Palace, — Assyrian, Egyptian, Greek and Roman, Byzantine, 
 Mediaeval, Renaissance, — specimens of all the periods here mentioned, from 
 the human-headed bulls of Nineveh down to the " Nymph of Fontainebleau." 
 
 " 5. Modern sculpture dates from the close of the seventeenth century to 
 the present time ; but till the middle of the eighteenth century, and even later, 
 the influence of the late Renaissance school, more or less modified by national 
 or individual influences, reigned paramount. A style at once pompous and 
 fantastic, that of Louis Quatorze, pervaded the arts of Europe. In the begin- 
 ning of the last century there' were no schools or ateliers of sculpture but the 
 French. 
 
 " In looking over the courts of modern sculpture, we cannot but be struck 
 by some national characteristics. In the English school of art, with some 
 brilliant exceptions, the general faults are negative, — a want of largeness of 
 style, a poverty of invention, a want of fire and vigor in conception and of 
 elegance in execution. In the best works there is a purity and depth of feel- 
 ing, united to great elegance of execution. In the French school there is a 
 tendency to the capricious, the sensual, the meretricious. In the German 
 school we are struck by power and poetical feeling, and by a largeness of 
 style, but also frequently by exaggeration and the want of grace and repose. 
 In the best Italian examples, there is much fire and poetry of conception and 
 delicacy in the treatment ; the faults most predominant in the Florentine and 
 Roman schools are feebleness and mannerism. It will be remarked that the 
 Milanese sculptors, who rank high in point of originality and talent, have 
 taken a decided turn to the romantic and picturesque style of art. 
 
 " In none of the fine arts does such an amount of ignorance prevail as in 
 sculpture. It is a universal complaint with sculptors that they are forced to 
 deviate from their own convictions of the true and the beautiful to please the 
 unrefined taste of patrons." 
 
72 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 IX. 
 
 DESIGN APPLIED TO PRINTED FABRICS. 
 
 The art of printing goods may be said to have been created within the last 
 fifty years. As practised in the early part of the century, it was comparatively 
 rude. The designs to be impressed upon the cloth were engraved upon a 
 square block of wood, and the color being applied to this, it was impressed 
 upon the cloth, which was then drawn forward, and a new application of the 
 block made. 
 
 This was the style of printing practised originally by Robert Peel, grandfather 
 of the prime minister of England. An improvement was afterward made by en- 
 graving the design upon a copper cylinder, and bypassing the cloth over this? 
 the work was done with more precision and continuity. This method was 
 costly, however, for one such cylinder engraved would print only 1500 pieces 
 of cloth. Mr. Perkins of Newburyport, Mass., then invented the die. This 
 is a steel roller, on which the design is engraved, and made exceedingly hard. 
 From this it is conveyed by pressure to a soft steel roller, which prints the 
 cloth. The original block printing would take but one color ; now, by en- 
 graving the dies and rollers with portions of the designs, several colors may 
 be printed. The rollers are placed upon the printing-machine in such a man- 
 ner that the cloth passes slowly over the large drum of the machine, and each 
 in succession impresses it with its special design and color. The style and 
 quality of ladies' dress goods of cotton and of wool have thus made rapid 
 strides in the last few years. 
 
 The felting qualities of wool have caused it to be used for many important 
 purposes, among which are the manufacture of piano-covers and druggets, 
 designs being printed upon them. Oil-cloths are printed in a very different 
 manner. The cloth used is several feet in width, and in length sometimes 
 exceeds one hundred yards. Large pieces of suitable length are cut off, 
 stretched on wooden frames, and a solution of glue or a glue size is applied, 
 which enters the pores and makes a surface or ground for the first coat of 
 paint. This ground, while damp, is rubbed with pumice-stone, and when dry 
 the first coat of paint is laid on, and well worked into the cloth. In two 
 weeks this is dry, and the last coat is put on with a brush, which forms 
 the ground on which the design is to be placed. Two or three months are 
 
Design Applied to Printed Fabrics. 73 
 
 required to complete these operations, and the canvas, for it has now become 
 such, is ready to be placed upon the tables, where it is stamped with large 
 wooden types made of pear-tree wood. 
 
 In different ages, people have had many diverse ideas as to the forms best 
 adapted for the decoration of surfaces, but all unite in one common thought 
 in the very general use of geometrical forms. Far back in the early ages we 
 find these forms used more than others, and they seem the most suitable for 
 printed materials. 
 
 The savage tribes knew nothing of printing goods, yet they had the idea 
 of decoration in one way and another. A few simple tools were all the instru- 
 ments they possessed with which to stamp their goods ; but with these few, 
 prompted by genius in many cases, they produced beautiful designs. The 
 simplicity of the several portions or units of design constituted the charm of 
 their productions. Leaves of various kinds were interspersed with simple 
 geometrical forms, as stars or dots, giving a new and ever-varying effect. 
 Thus the possession of such simple tools, even by the most uncultivated, if 
 guided by an instructive observation of the forms in which all the works of 
 nature are arranged, would lead to the creation of all the geometrical arrange- 
 ment of forms with which we are acquainted. 
 
 The secret of success in all ornament is the production of a broad effect 
 by repetition of a few simple elements. Variety should rather be sought 
 through the arrangement of the several portions of the design than in the 
 multiplicity of varied forms. Graceful symmetry and perfect distribution in 
 design was characteristic of past ages, and the same ought to be applicable 
 to the present. 
 
 If ornaments are used for a design of any of these fabrics, strive to omit 
 all shadow or relief. If flowers or foliage or any natural object is to be the 
 element, we should study nature closely first, and conventionalize these 
 forms previously found to be fit subjects for design. 
 
 Let the ornament cover the surface either by a form based on a geometric 
 figure or growing out of itself by graceful, flowing curves. Any arrangement 
 that carries lines or represents figures in the direction of breadth, should be 
 avoided, and the effect produced by the folding of goods should be made a 
 study. The size of the pattern should be regulated by the material for which 
 it is intended, — small ones for close, thick materials, as ginghams ; larger 
 for fabrics of more open texture, as muslins, bareges, etc. In delaines the 
 surface must be largely covered, while in cotton prints, the designs can be 
 more dispersed. 
 
 The chief fault of patterns, as applied to fabrics generally, is their want of 
 simplicity, — want of simple structure, want of simple treatment, want of sim- 
 plicity of effect ; and together with these we find largeness and coarseness of 
 parts. Vitruvius has said that " the perfection of all works depends on 
 their fitness to answer the end proposed, and on the principles resulting from 
 a consideration of nature itself." 
 
 A surface should not be divided for the purpose of decoration into halves, 
 the proportion of i to i being bad ; for as proportion increases in subtlety it 
 10 
 
74 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 also increases in beauty. The proportion of 2 to i is a little better, but of 3 
 to 8 or 5 to 8 is still more pleasing. 
 
 A principle of order must prevail in every ornament or composition. Con- 
 fusion is the result of accident, while order results from thought and care. 
 The orderly repetition of parts frequently aids in the production of orna- 
 mental effects. If plants are employed as subject, they must never be treated 
 imitatively, but be rendered into ornaments by being used conventionally. 
 No shaded ornament can be pleasant when placed as a decoration on a flat 
 surface. 
 
 If the pattern is to be wrought by printing, then one class of conditions 
 must be complied with ; if by weaving, then another class calls for considera- 
 tions. The requirements of manufacture are very numerous, and in some 
 cases very restrictive. The size of the " repeat," the manner in which color 
 can be applied, the character of surface attainable, and many other consider- 
 ations, must be carefully complied with before a pattern can appear as a 
 manufactured article. 
 
 No matter how simple the " repeat " that is left with the designer, he has 
 a large field in which to work ; but he cannot go beyond certain bounds if he 
 intends to produce first-class designs, In the past, the most popular designs 
 have been based upon conventionalized flowers and foliage, with the abun- 
 dant use of geometrical forms. 
 
 The first accounts we have of a covering for the floor is in the earlier times, 
 when sand was first used ; then the habit of applying reeds succeeded, and 
 on the part of the rich, sweet-scented reeds ; this use of reeds was suc- 
 ceeded by the employment of straw mats, formed of a kind of grass ; then 
 by the introduction of wool mats ; these in turn were followed by carpets of 
 various kinds, which gradually increased in size until they covered the whole 
 floor. It does n't seem strange that man desired improvements of this kind, 
 as he had been used to treading on grass, and when brought into a state of 
 civilization sought some covering for his floors which would be softer to the 
 tread and richer in color than stones or brick. 
 
 The surface of a carpet serving to support objects should be quiet and 
 negative, without strong contrast of either form or color. The leading forms 
 should be so composed as to distribute the pattern over the whole floor, not 
 pronounced either in the direction of length or breadth, all up and down 
 treatment being erroneous. The decorative forms must be flat, without 
 shadow or relief, whether derived direct from ornament or directly from flowers 
 or foliage. In color, the general ground should be negative, low in tone, and 
 inclining to the tertiary hues, the leading forms of the pattern being expressed 
 by the darker secondaries, and the primary colors or white, if used at all, 
 should be used only in small quantities to enhance the tertiary hues, and to 
 express the geometrical bases that rule the distribution of the form. 
 
 The laws relating to harmonies and contrasts of color should be attended to. 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics, 
 
 75 
 
 PRINCIPLES OF DESIGN AS APPLIED TO WOVEN 
 FABRICS. — COLORED MATERIALS. 
 
 CARPETS. 
 
 In preparing designs for carpets, we should first consider the power of the 
 carpet-loom. 
 
 The carpets best known are the Brussels. There are cheaper fabrics, 
 such as the Kidderminster, or Ingrain, consisting of two thicknesses of 
 carpeting imperfectly united together, which can have only two colors in 
 any line running through its length. The best designs for this carpet are 
 made simply of two colors, as the introduction of another color produces 
 "lines." 
 
 The three-ply is the same kind of carpet, which has three thicknesses of 
 carpeting, allows more colors to be used, and avoids " lines." 
 
 The surface of Brussels carpeting consists of loops, and it may have five 
 or even six colors running throughout its length. Thus whenever one color 
 is drawn to the surface, there remain four or five beneath. It is made upon 
 a linen foundation, which is concealed by the interlaced worsted threads 
 that cover it. 
 
 Brussels carpeting is sometimes woven of close texture, with the loops 
 cut through. This makes a velvet pile, or Wilton carpet, which is rich- 
 looking and durable. 
 
 The real Axminster carpets are the best that are made. As they are formed 
 by the knotting of threads together by hand, any number of colors may be 
 used in their formation. Besides these and other varieties, there are many 
 foreign carpets, most of which are hand-made and very beautiful. The 
 greater number of these have a velvety surface, which is sometimes rough 
 and uneven, but rarely, if ever, inartistic. 
 
 As a carpet is a fabric to be placed beneath our feet, it should possess, 
 as a first necessity, flatness. It should not only be flat, but should have the 
 appearance of being flat, and be decorated in the only manner suitable for 
 a flat surface. Its decoration should be either flat ornament, or a design 
 handled flatly. This does not exclude flowers, leaves, plants, or ornamental 
 forms, but it requires that they should be treated as if without roundness ; 
 
76 
 
 The Anfefix Papers. 
 
 that is to say, without light and shade, or perspective effects. Each flower 
 petal, every plant leaf should be colored with a flat wash. 
 
 We are taught that in any branch of industrial art, work should be good 
 and honest ; that there should be nothing deceptive. If a manufactured 
 article does not fulfil the purpose for which it was made, and do so thoroughly 
 and well, its design is faulty. If the ornament applied to any object impairs 
 its usefulness, or in any respect changes its character, or destroys that sense 
 of repose and fitness that comes with true ornamental design, then the orna- 
 ment is ill-fitted for its purpose. From this point |Df view we can see how 
 utterly misplaced most of the designs of our carpets are. 
 
 Carpets are spread before us to walk upon. If the objects pictured upon 
 them were real, we should not wish or even dare to place our feet upon 
 them. In doing so we should have to walk ruthlessly over delicate flowers, 
 or to push our way among highly-colored roses of most unnatural size ; or, 
 perhaps, to balance ourselves upon some ornamental bands of stone or wood 
 work by which the floor is regularly divided into compartments ; or to step 
 carefully over such bands down upon soft flowers ; or, perhaps, on an 
 unusually costly carpet, where a portion of garden or landscape is spread 
 before us to delight the eye ; we should be compelled to traverse tree-tops 
 leaning against the sky which is seen between the branches. 
 
 We are told that " it requires no small amount of art-instruction and expe- 
 rience to see why the direct imitation of natural objects is wrong in orna- 
 mental design. The quasi-fidelity with which the forms of a rose, a bunch 
 of ribbons, or a ruined castle can be reproduced on carpets, crockery, and 
 wall-papers will always possess a certain kind of charm for the uneducated 
 eye, just as the mimicry of natural sounds in music, from the rolling of thun- 
 der to the cackling of poultry, will delight the vulgar ear. Both are ingenious, 
 amusing, attractive for the moment, but neither lie within the legitimate 
 province of art. 
 
 As a carpet is a background for other objects in a room, it should so fulfil 
 that office that, while occupying a subordinate position, it should serve to 
 enhance the beauty of everything placed upon it, and let nothing suffer in 
 being compared with it. " Composed of sombre shades and tones, and 
 treated essentially as a flat surface, it exerts a most valuable though subor- 
 dinate influence upon all the other objects in the room. Upon it the eye 
 rests while surveying the more important furniture ; and its presence, prop- 
 erly treated, supplies the necessary material for a satisfactory contrast with 
 other portions of the decoration, which proves how valuable it is as contrib- 
 uting to the pleasing effect of the whole apartment. 
 
 " All designs which have a tendency to divide a flat surface into distinct 
 compartments, or have colors so distributed that they attract the eye at 
 intervals ; all designs which cut sharply from the ground, and exhibit the 
 ornamentation in strong contrast to that which it is upon, or, by a combina- 
 tion of several tints of the same color, appear to relieve the ornament from 
 its background, are false in principle and deficient in the simplicity which 
 should characterize this branch of decoration. An evenness of effect must 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics. 
 
 77 
 
 be the sme qua nojt of a material which is to cover a surface that, if otherwise 
 than flat, would not be tolerated. 
 
 "As a rule, all imitations, in whatever material, of a totally different surface 
 from that which characterizes the material itself, are false." 
 
 As in art, a background is not without interest, although subservient to 
 the principal objects of the picture, so in a carpet there maybe leading forms 
 visible at a distance, and details which will become apparent upon a nearer 
 view, and others to be seen only upon a close inspection ; but the pattern 
 should seem evenly spread to produce a unity of effect and prevent the eyes 
 from wandering to follow lines or forms. 
 
 Large patterns should be avoided, because they destroy all sense of repose, 
 diminish the size of the room, and injure the effect of the furniture by it in 
 a measure, dividing the attention with it. The details of a carpet-pattern 
 should be small, even where the pattern is not. 
 
 As Brussels carpeting is but twenty-seven inches wide, and one tenth of an 
 inch is allowed for each stitch, a pattern may be repeated three or four times 
 in the width ; or there maybe but one pattern, and there may be as fine detail 
 in the latter case as in the former. 
 
 The safest and best ground for a carpet is black or indigo-blue. The 
 prevailing tint of a carpet should contrast rather than repeat that of the wall. 
 
 A light carpet on a floor prevents any harmonious combination of general 
 effect. 
 
 The ornamentation of carpets should be what we call an " all-over " pat- 
 tern, radiating in more than two directions, and thus covering the surface 
 without leading the eye away from any point. This rule applies to all pat- 
 terns, simple or complicated. 
 
 Let the student take almost any plant, and from its vertical stem, its leaves 
 or its flowers, seen in profile, he may obtain vertical ornaments suitable for 
 flat vertical surfaces ; or, by placing the eye above the plant and looking 
 down upon it, he may get a geometrical radiating form suitable for floor 
 decoration. However the leaves may seem to be dispersed along the side of 
 the stem, their arrangement, if the plant is perfect, being in regular order, or 
 in whorls about the stem, will give a radiating ornament. The radiating form 
 may be used also, for a wall ornament ; but the " up and down " or vertical 
 pattern must not be used on the floor. 
 
 Sir Charles Eastlake says the simplest diapered grounds are the best. 
 
 Diaper work includes that class of patterns which are either definitely 
 enclosed by bounding lines, or at least divided into compartments of a 
 uniform size throughout. These compartments or diapers are often of 
 a geometrical form, and in that case may be either round or square, diamond- 
 shaped or quatre-foiled in outline. 
 
 In a carpet there should be no violent contrasts of light and dark, or of 
 color, A distribution of colors, nearly equal in scale of light and dark, 
 should be adopted, secondaries or tertiaries or neutralized primaries being 
 used rather than pure tints, and lights introduced merely to give expression 
 to the forms. 
 
78 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 Neutrality of effect is of two kinds. It may be produced by large masses 
 of tertiary or neutral colors, or by the juxtaposition of the primary colors in 
 small quantities, either alone or with the secondary colors and black or white ; 
 but there will be a difference between the two results : for that produced by 
 the low-toned colors will be simply neutral, while that produced by the pri- 
 mary colors will be " bloomy " as well as neutral, and if yellows and reds 
 slightly predominate in the intermingling of colors, the effect will be glowing 
 and radiant. This radiant or glowing, bloomy neutrality of effect is that 
 which is most desirable in a carpet. 
 
 In considering designs suitable for colored goods, such as carpets, mate- 
 rials for wearing apparel, etc., we are continually referred to those of India 
 and Turkey as the most perfect in arrangement and general tone and har- 
 mony of color, as well as for their flat treatment and geometrical distri- 
 bution of form. Their effect seems to be the result of science, as it has never 
 changed from the earliest known times, and has always followed certain 
 fixed laws. 
 
 The use of colors of a negative character is the secret reason why Turkey 
 carpets are so satisfactory to the refined taste, and it is the conventionality 
 of Indian goods that causes them to be deservedly popular without the 
 reason for this liking being always known. Chinese ornament, which en- 
 deavors as nearly as possible to imitate nature, has never been accepted by 
 ornamentatists as anything but rude and barbarous, except where local 
 tradition has preserved a style of decoration that has been either excellent in 
 its simplicity or associated with some valuable scientific process of manu- 
 facture. 
 
 Eastern carpets teach us that bright colors are not necessarily rich or beau- 
 tiful, but that tone is a great source of richness, and that it has the further 
 merit of keeping carpets in their true place in the scale of furniture. 
 
 GARMENT FABRICS. 
 
 Over-ornamentation is the great source of error in designs for garment 
 fabrics, for it causes the ornament to stand out from the ground, and thus 
 attracts undue attention to itself. This may arise from the ornaments 
 being too large for the fabric, or from too decided contrasts of color or of 
 light and dark, or from its being overcharged with color. These causes 
 vary, however, for different materials. 
 
 Woven patterns in satin and tabby of self-color, will allow of much larger 
 figures than where more colors are used, either in woven or printed goods. 
 Designs for dress fabrics are much better in small than in large forms. 
 These should be treated flatly, without light and shade, and tending to sub- 
 dued contrasts of color and of light and dark. 
 
 A geometrical rather than a dispersed arrangement of the forms is the 
 most satisfying to the eye, and the most in accordance with sound principles, 
 some of the best patterns being formed of diapering sprigs, leaves, flowers, or 
 often even of simple geometrical forms regularly repeated over the ground. 
 
 The fabrics of the East India Company are designed on the principles 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics. 
 
 79 
 
 supposed to be just. The ornament is always flat and without shadow ; 
 natural flowers are never used imitatively or perspectively, but are conven- 
 tionalized by being displayed flatly and according to a symmetrical arrange- 
 ment ; and all other objects, even animals and birds, where used as ornament, 
 are reduced to their simplest flat forms. When color is added, it is usually 
 rendered by the simple local hue, often bordered with a darker shade of the 
 color to give it expression, but the colors of the flower are rarely intro- 
 duced. 
 
 In considering the details of the Indian patterns and searching for the 
 causes of their rich and pleasing effect, they have often been considered poor, 
 ill-drawn, and common-place. It is the knowledge of the designer, the just 
 appreciation of what is exactly fitted to each peculiar fabric, the delicacy with 
 which he has made his selection of the amount of ground to be left free from 
 ornament, and the choice of the tints for the ground and for the ornamental 
 forms that has made these fabrics so pre-eminent that we may derive rules 
 from them to govern us in preparing designs for all garment fabrics. 
 
 In the adaptation of these designs to different kinds of materials, such an 
 appreciation is shown of the effect which wiH be produced upon them by 
 motion, when the garments are worn, that no draught of the design can show 
 us the beautiful results of the manufactured article. 
 
 As simplicity is one of the first constituents of beauty, we often find the 
 simplest patterns the most beautiful ; and where printing or weaving in one 
 color is in good taste, every added difficulty in printing or weaving more 
 colors will take so much from the original beauty of the design. 
 
 We wish to obtain in the garment what a painter calls "breadth," or 
 "repose," and this can only be attained by great simplicity, by flat or diapered 
 treatment of small forms, by uncontrasted light and dark, and by delicate tints 
 of color. 
 
 Whilst " up and down " treatment in stripes and trails is good, the hori- 
 zontal direction of pronounced forms is bad, since in crossing the person the 
 pattern conflicts with all the motions of the human figure, as well as with the 
 forms of the long folds in the skirts of the garment. For this reason large 
 and pronounced checks are to be avoided ; they interfere with the graceful 
 arrangement of any material as drapery. 
 
 HANGINGS AND CURTAINS. 
 
 The ornamentation of textile hangings is subject to the same general laws 
 which govern other forms of wall decoration. Flatness of treatment and 
 subdued contrasts of color are the only safe guides. 
 
 The richest and most sober effects in silk are produced simply by the pro- 
 cess of weaving, as the satin figure on the plain tabby ground in a self-color. 
 With the slightest attention to the design, a good effect is produced, and the 
 splendor of the material is well displayed. The same effect, that is the con- 
 trast of the pattern with the ground, can be produced in the weaving together 
 of other mixed materials. 
 
 By such methods the ornament produced is necessarily flat, and the gen- 
 
8o 
 
 The A^iteflx Papers . 
 
 eral effect is not disturbed. A good effect may be obtained by the judicious 
 use of two or more colors, either according to the ancient method of har- 
 mony, separated from each other by bands of black, white, or gold, or con- 
 trasted and enhanced by their complementaries, enriched by gold. The com- 
 bination of many colors results only in poverty and meanness. 
 
 Where colors are used, the pattern must be smaller than where the design 
 is woven into material of only one color. Some hangings decorated with 
 vertical ornaments from the Alhambra are in good taste. 
 
 Hangings of rich cloth of gold brocade are sometimes ornamented with 
 flowers rendered imitatively. Shaded, colored flowers vulgarize and destroy 
 the richness of effect sought for in such materials ; whereas a diaper design, 
 or a different texture produced by weaving, or a mingling of silver thread 
 with the gold, gives all that can be desired. 
 
 We read of a hanging decorated with flowers on an ash-colored lilac 
 ground which, although displaying great ability in the designer, and equal 
 skill in the weaver, did not compare in apparent richness with a plain mul- 
 berry-colored hanging, ornamented flatly in tabby and satin placed beside it. 
 Had these flowers been treated flatly, arranged geometrically, and colored in 
 simple flat tints, they would have been more suitable for and more truly orna- 
 mental to hangings. 
 
 In Gobelin tapestries, we find landscapes, figures, fruits, and flowers. 
 Such copies of pictures are necessarily inferior in such materials to the 
 pictures they represent It is easily seen that it is an error to place figures 
 and trees where a gust of wind would remove them, or a fold divide them in 
 two. The interest felt in these tapestries, is chiefly that which clings to any- 
 thing which has been cherished and admired in the past, and their associa- 
 tion with royalty and great names. 
 
 Early in this century, window curtains were only made of silk or damask. 
 The material known as " rep " was next introduced. This was in many 
 respects superior. The Germans have invented a still better material known 
 in the shops as " cotelan." This is often worked in diaper patterns of excel- 
 lent design. It is one of the most artistic kinds of modern textile fabric. 
 The French have given us a heavy ribbed material decorated with broad 
 bands or stripes of color running transversely to its length, like the pattern 
 of a Roman scarf. Of late years this has been much used, especially by 
 artists. 
 
 There is a striped damask, whose stripes run parallel to the length of the 
 curtain, which increases the apparent height of the room. A curtain in folds 
 is better with horizontal stripes, as vertical stripes create confusion. 
 
 Under the subject of hangings we may also consider chintzes. This 
 material being essentially a summer fabric, any decoration tending to a sense 
 of warmth is out of place. Thus there should be no richness of color. Cool, 
 fresh grounds, covered with flat, ornamental forms, either in " all-over " or 
 " up and down " arrangement, or a diapered floral treatment on a simple, 
 plain ground, are the most suitable designs for chintzes. 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics. 
 
 8i 
 
 LACE. 
 
 In considering the ornamentation most suitable for lace, its texture, light- 
 ness, and filminess should not be overlooked. All designs should be light, 
 elegant, and flowing. Graceful forms should mark its ornamentation, and 
 straight lines should be avoided. At the same time, care should be taken 
 that these lines be not so light as to render the lace flimsy, and thus, where 
 lace is used as a trimming, deprive the line, which should be enriched with 
 ornament, of its proper expression. 
 
 The old point lace, worked with a needle, was often too heavy in charac- 
 ter, wanting less crowded spots to give relief to the design, whereas in modern 
 times the manufacturer has run into the other extreme, by covering much 
 space with little labor. 
 
 The edge or border constitutes true lace. This should be decidedly 
 rich in ornament. In wide pieces of lace and veils there should spring from 
 the border graceful curved forms, gradually disappearing in diapered sprigs 
 or ornamental forms to cover the remaining surface. The natural lines of 
 the growth of plants, arranged according to some symmetrical order, may 
 be adopted. 
 
 Exact imitations of flowers are to be avoided, floral forms being followed. 
 The petals and leaves should rarely be filled in solidly. Stitches of varied 
 forms should be introduced, giving a diaper texture, and thus adding to the 
 lightness and richness of the material. 
 
 The designs for lace curtains should be such as not to be too much hidden 
 in the folds. There should be no irregular scrolls or bouquets of flowers. 
 The best designs give us a border of some plant of graceful foliage and 
 characteristic outline, the body of the curtain being powdered over with 
 details of the plant used, arranged in geometric forms. The symmetrical 
 snow-flake gives a light, geometric form, which, when so placed, is pleasingly 
 suggestive. There should be no attempt at shading forms. It is also evi- 
 dent that designs which very much cover the surface and destroy the trans- 
 parency, are not adapted for a texture requiring clearness or semi-transpar- 
 ency as its chief quality. 
 
 HAND-MADE LACE. 
 
 Lace is made of flax, cotton, and mohair, and of silk, gold, and silver. It 
 is said to have originated from the open-work embroidery which came into 
 use in the sixteenth century. This was made by pulling out certain threads 
 in regular order, and stitching the remaining threads together. They were 
 worked in button-hole stitch, in various geometrical patterns, the super- 
 fluous cloth being cut away. This was termed " cut-work." There was also 
 a kind of darned netting. In making this a net-work was arranged, either in 
 squares or in lines radiating from a centre, upon a frame. Upon this netting 
 patterns were wrought with a needle. This same method has been revived 
 at the present day. 
 
 Lace consists of two parts, — the ground and flower, pattern or "gimp." 
 II 
 
82 
 
 The Afttefix Papers. 
 
 The flower or ornamental pattern is either made together with the ground, as 
 in Valenciennes or Mechlin, or separately, and then either worked in or sewn 
 on, "applique." 
 
 Some laces are not worked on a ground. The flowers are connected by- 
 irregular threads, overcast (with button-hole stitch), and sometimes worked 
 over with pearl loops (picot) such as the points of Venice and Spain, and 
 most of the guipures. 
 
 All lace is terminated by two edges, — the pearl or picot, a row of little 
 points at equal distances, and the footing, a narrow lace which serves to 
 keep the ground firm and to sew the lace to any garment. 
 
 Lace is divided into point and pillow. The first is made by the needle, on 
 a parchment pattern, and termed "needle-point." Point also means a par- 
 ticular kind of stitch, as " Venice point," " Brussels point." The following 
 is the manner of making pillow lace : The pillow is a round or oval board, 
 stuffed so as to form a cushion, to be placed on the knees of the work- 
 woman. On this pillow a stiff" piece of parchment is fixed, in which small 
 holes are pricked to mark the pattern, and through these holes pins are stuck 
 into the cushion. The threads with which the lace is formed are wound 
 upon "bobbins," — formerly bones, now small pieces of wood about the size 
 of a pencil, — having a deep groove round their upper ends, so formed as to 
 reduce the bobbin to a thin neck, a separate bobbin being used for each 
 thread. By the twisting and crossing of these threads the ground of the lace 
 is formed. The pattern or figure called "gimp" is made by interweaving a 
 thread much thicker than that forming the ground-work, according to the design 
 pricked out on the parchment. This has been the method of using the pillow, 
 with slight variations, for three centuries. 
 
 The Italians claim the invention of point or needle-made lace. They 
 probably derived it from the Greeks of the Lower Empire who took refuge 
 in Italy. Its Byzantine origin is further confirmed by the fact that those 
 places which kept up the closest intercourse with the Greek Empire are the 
 cities where point lace was first made and most flourished. 
 
 A modern Italian author asserts that the Italians learned embroidery from 
 the Saracens of Sicily, as the Spaniards acquired the art from the Moors of 
 Seville or Grenada. As proof of his theory, he states that the word " to em- 
 broider," both in Italian and Spanish, is derived from the Arabic, and that no 
 similar word exists in any other European language. 
 
 Evidences of lace fabrication appear in Italy as early as the fifteenth century. 
 Lace appears on garments in pictures of that date. 
 
 Lace was made throughout Italy by nuns and for the service of the church. 
 Venice was celebrated for her point, while Genoa produced almost exclu- 
 sively pillow lace! These laces, with the addition of Milan lace, were those 
 best known in the commercial world in the earlier periods. 
 
 The earliest points soon passed from the stiff" Gothic forms into the flow- 
 ing lines of the Renaissance, and into that fine, patternless guipure called 
 Venice point. 
 
 One fine Venice lace, the richest and most complicated of all points, is 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics. 
 
 83 
 
 made on a parchment pattern, with all the outlines in relief, formed by means 
 of cottons placed inside to raise them. Sometimes they are in double and 
 triple relief; an infinity of beautiful stitches are introduced into the flowers, 
 which are surrounded by pearls of geometric regularity, the pearls being 
 sometimes in scallops. This is the Rose (raised) Venice point so highly 
 prized and so extensively used for albs, collarettes, berthas, and costly decora- 
 tions. 
 
 These Venice points are said to be such fine and wonderful works of the 
 needle that they baffle all description, and are endless in variety. The only 
 rehc remaining of Venice point is a coarse, cheap lace offered to travellers 
 by the peasant women. 
 
 The term " guipure " is now so variously applied that it is impossible to limit 
 its meaning ; the modern Honiton and the Maltese lace are called guipure, 
 as well as the imitations of the latter. The Italians called the old raised points 
 of Venice and Spain guipures. The finest thread guipures were the produce 
 of Flanders and Italy, although when this term was first applied to thread 
 guipures is uncertain ; but silk twisted round thick thread or cord was 
 originally called guipure, and from this the work is said to have derived its 
 name. In early times, such lace was made of silk, gold, or silver, with the 
 needle, or on a pillow like other laces, and was very costly. 
 
 In early times the Genoese made much gold lace. This consisted of pure 
 gold mixed with Spanish "laton," producing a false gold such as is now used 
 for theatrical purposes. They also made gold and silver lace out of drawn 
 wire, such as has been lately found at Herculaneum. 
 
 In the seventeenth century the Genoa point came into general use through- 
 out Europe. These Genoa points, so highly prized, were all the work of 
 the pillow. 
 
 Lace manufacture extends along the sea-coast of Northern Italy. The 
 workers are mostly the wives and daughters of the coral-fishers, who support 
 themselves by this occupation during the long and perilous voyages of their 
 husbands. In the year 1850 the lace-workers in this part of Italy began 
 to make guipures for France, and these now form their chief produce. The 
 exportation is very great, and lace-making is the dailv occupation not only 
 of the women, but of the ladies of the commune. 
 
 MALTA LACE. 
 
 The lace once made in Malta was a coarse kind of Mechlin or Valenciennes 
 of the arabesque pattern. In 1833 Lady Hamilton Chichester induced a 
 woman named Ciglia to copy an old Greek lace coverlet in white. The 
 Ciglia family from that time commenced the manufacture of black and white 
 Maltese guipure, until then unknown in that island. 
 
 Malta lace is also made in the Madeira Islands by seven families. It is 
 made almost entirely by men ; the women occupy themselves in the open- 
 work embroidery of muslin and cambric. 
 
 Spanish point in its day was as celebrated as that of Flanders and Italy. 
 Tradition declares that Spain learned the art from Italy, whence she com- 
 
84 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 municated it to Flanders, which in return taught Spain to make pillow lace. 
 Others give it a Moorish origin. 
 
 Spain was early celebrated for its silk laces, which, with its colored em- 
 broidered laces, and its gold and silver points, have always enjoyed a certain 
 reputation. The national mantilla is the principal manufacture of the pres- 
 ent time ; this is made in both white and black lace. Spanish silk laces do 
 not equal in workmanship those of Bayeux and Chantilly either in firmness 
 of ground or regularity of pattern. 
 
 The manufacture of blonde lace is almost confined to Catalonia. It is made 
 in the villages on the sea-coast, especially in Barcelona. It gives employment 
 to thirty-four thousand people. There are no large manufactories : it is in 
 the hands of women and children, who make it on their own account and as 
 they please. 
 
 Lace-making is a great source of wealth to Belgium, some of its old cities 
 being supported by female industry. One fortieth of the whole population, 
 1 50,000 women, are thus employed. The majority of these work at home. 
 The trade is now as flourishing as it was in the most palmy days of the Neth- 
 erlands. 
 
 The lace manufacture of the Netherlands has a glorious past. After caus- 
 ing jealousy in every other European nation in the sixteenth century, when 
 every other industrial art disappeared in the midst of the horrors of a reli- 
 gious persecution, this fabric alone maintained itself, and through its pros- 
 perity saved Flanders from ruin. 
 
 In Belgium, lace-making plays a prominent part in the education of chil- 
 d ren. Charles V commanded it to be taught in schools and convents. 
 
 BRUSSELS LACE. 
 
 The manufacture of Brussels lace is supposed to have commenced at the 
 beginning of the fifteenth century. It is falsely called Knglish point. This 
 name was applied to it in 1662. At that time the English Parliament forbade 
 all importation of foreign lace ; and the merchants, after bringing Flemish 
 workmen to England, finding it impossible to provide the necessary flax, 
 resorted to the expedient of buying the choicest laces of the Brussels market, 
 which they smuggled Sito England and sold as " English Point." 
 
 The finest Brussels lace can only be made in the city itself. Other locali- 
 ties have tried in vain to compete with the capital. The thread used in 
 Brussels lace is of most extraordinary fineness. It is grown in Brabant at 
 Hal and Rebecq-Rognon. The finest quality is spun in underground rooms, 
 as contact with the dry air causes it to break. It is so fine as to be almost 
 invisible. The " feel " of the thread as it passes through the fingers is the 
 surest guide. 
 
 The thread-spinner closely examines every inch drawn from her distaff, and 
 when any inequality occurs, repairs the mischief. Every artificial help is 
 given to the eye. A background of dark paper is placed to throw out the 
 thread, and the room is so arranged as to admit one single ray of light upon 
 her work. It is the fineness of the thread which renders the real Brussels 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics. 
 
 85 
 
 ground so costly. The difficulty of procuring this thread, at any cost, has 
 prevented this art from becoming estabhshed in other countries. The ground 
 of Brussels lace is made in two ways, by the needle and the pillow. The 
 needle-ground is superior to the pillow-made. It is worked in small strips 
 of an inch in width, joined together by a stitch long known to the lace- 
 makers of Brussels and Alen^on only. Since machine-made net has come 
 into use, this needle-ground is rarely made. 
 
 There are two kinds of flowers, — those made with the needle, called pomt 
 a V aiguille, those on the pillow, point plat. The best flowers are made 
 in Brussels itself, where they have attained a perfection unapproached by 
 those made in the villages and Hainault. 
 
 In the old laces, the plat flowers were worked in together with the ground, 
 application lace being formerly unknown. 
 
 In making Brussels lace, each part is assigned to a different person. The 
 worker has a piece of parchment given her, on which the pattern is pricked 
 out ; she only knows of the portion she is to make. The whole responsi- 
 bility rests with the master ; he alone knows the effect to be produced ; he 
 selects the ground and chooses the thread and cuts up the pattern for the 
 different workwomen. 
 
 The pattern of Brussels lace has always followed the fashions of the day. 
 The most ancient is the Gothic style, composed of architectural orna- 
 ments resembling patterns cut out in paper. This style was replaced by the 
 flowing lines which prevailed until the Revolution of 1789. In its turn fol- 
 lowed the flowery style of the First Empire, — an assemblage of flowers, 
 sprigs, columns, wreaths, and small patterns, such as spots, crosses, etc. In 
 flowers, the palm and pyramidal forms predominated. Under the Restora- 
 tion, the flowery style remained unchanged, the palms and pyramids becoming 
 more rare. Since 1830 great and rapid changes have taken place in the pat- 
 terns. Every year they become more true to "nature and more artistic. 
 
 MECHLIN LACE. 
 
 Mechlin is one of the prettiest of laces, — fine, transparent, and effective. 
 It is made in one piece, on the pillow, with various fancy stitches introduced. 
 Its distinguishing feature is the flat thread, which forms the flower and gives 
 to this lace the character of embroidery. This manufacture had died out 
 and been replaced by other laces. In 1699, when the English prohibition was 
 romoved, Mechlin lace became the great fashion of the day, and continued so 
 for a century. 
 
 VALENCIENNES LACE. 
 
 The manufacture of Valenciennes, having expired in its own native city, 
 has become one of the most important branches of the pillow- lace trade in 
 East and West Flanders. 
 
 The productions of Ypres are of the finest quality and of the most elabo- 
 rate workmanship. On a piece not two inches wide, from two hundred to three 
 hundred bobbins are employed, and for the larger widths as many as eight 
 hundred, or more, are used on the same pillow. The ground is in large, 
 
86 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 clear squares, which throws up the even tissue of the pattern. Until 1833 
 there was little variety in the patterns, when a clear, wire ground was intro- 
 duced, with bold, flowing designs. 
 
 The Valenciennes of Bruges has never been so highly valued as those of 
 Ypres and Alost ; for while in making the former the bobbins are only twisted 
 twice, in the latter two the twisting is repeated four or five times. The 
 oftener the bobbins are twisted the more the Valenciennes is esteemed. 
 
 The original Valenciennes lace was made in underground cellars, where 
 the lace -makers worked from four in the morning until eight at night. This 
 work was generally done by young girls, many of the women becoming 
 almost blind before reaching the age of thirty. 
 
 Under the impulse of fashion and luxury, lace receives the stamp of the 
 special style of each country. Italy furnishes its points of Venice and Genoa ; 
 the Netherlands its Brussels, its Mechlin, and Valenciennes ; Spain its silk 
 blondes ; England its Honiton ; France its costly point d' Alen9on, its 
 white blondes of Caen, and its black lace of Chantilly. Now each style is 
 copied by every nation, but France is unrivalled in her points d' Alen(^on," 
 her white blonde, and her black silk laces. The Alen^on point is the only 
 French lace not made on a pillow. The invention of this lace was occasioned 
 by the efforts of Colbert to introduce Venice point into France. In the time 
 of Louis XIV the fashion of wearing costly laces had reached the most 
 extravagant bounds. Gentlemen wore point-lace ruffles at their boot-tops, 
 which were sometimes filled with a number of rows of lace. Cinq-Mars, the 
 favorite, left at his death three hundred pairs of lace-ruffled boots. The 
 garter above these boots consisted of a scarf worn around the knee, having 
 the ends adorned with lace. A large rosette of lace on the foot completed 
 the costume. 
 
 The Government vainly endeavored, by sumptuary laws, to restrain the 
 extravagance of the people. Prohibitions of importations did not fully avail . 
 the people were unwilling to give up their exquisite points for the coarse 
 laces of France. Under these circumstances, Colbert proposed introducing 
 the manufacture of costly lace into France, so that the money expended 
 on this luxury might not impoverish the country. A Madame Gilbert, of 
 Alen(^on, with thirty workwomen from Venice, was engaged to carry on the 
 enterprise. Madame Gilbert, with her Italian assistants, finding it difficult or 
 impossible to teach the people to imitate the true Venetian stitches, invented 
 a new lace ; and by giving out to the workwomen different portions to make, 
 and afterwards joining them together, she succeeded in making the most 
 elaborate point ever produced. 
 
 Point d' Alen^on is made entirely by hand, with a ^ fine needle, in por- 
 tions, upon a parchment pattern, afterwards united by invisible seams. As 
 each part is executed by a special workwoman, it requires twelve persons to 
 complete a piece of lace. This lace was nearly extinct when Napoleon 
 caused it to be restored. Alen9on again fell with the Empire ; after many 
 attempts, it was restored under the last Empire, and is now in the highest 
 favor. The earlier patterns of the eighteenth century are flowery and undu- 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics. 
 
 87 
 
 lating. In the time of Louis XV a change came over lace, as over the archi- 
 tecture and home decoration ; the patterns became more rigid and angular, 
 and almost conventional in form. With Louis XVI the ground of lace was 
 covered with little bouquets and spots, which towards the end of the century 
 were given up, 
 
 The Alen9on was never equal to the Brussels in its designs ; they were 
 seldom copied from nature, while the fabric of Brabant was decorated with 
 accurate copies of roses and other flowers. There has been a great improve- 
 ment in the Alen9on. The present patterns are copies of flowers, inter- 
 mixed with grasses and ferns. 
 
 In Normandy both white and black laces are made, but the black lace is 
 chief in importance. The prosperity of Calvados, where, in 1851, about 
 50,000 persons were employed in making lace, is due to the invention of a 
 stitch, the " point de Raccroc," by which the pieces of lace worked in differ- 
 ent segments are united. Thus shawls, flounces, and large pieces are made 
 in small sections and then joined together. Black lace is usually made in 
 winter, white in summer. 
 
 The lace manufacture of Auvergne, of which Le Puy is the centre, is the 
 most ancient and considerable of France. There are nearly 130.000 women 
 employed in this work. Excepting at the time of the French Revolution, 
 this trade has been always prosperous. Le Puy produces every kind of lace, 
 — white and colored, silk, thread, and worsted, blonde of all kinds, and 
 black of the finest grounds ; her productions range from gold and silver lace 
 to the cheapest edgings. 
 
 Lace-making was introduced into Devonshire, England, by some Flemings, 
 refugees from the persecutions of the Duke of Alva. Honiton lace, so called 
 from the town of Honiton, preserved its Flemish character. 
 
 HONITON LACE. 
 
 The peculiarity of Honiton lace is its being made in sprigs, which have 
 been scarcely surpassed by the lace-makers of Brabant ; they are made 
 separately. At first they v/ere worked in with the pillow, but afterwards 
 appliques^ or sewn in on the ground ; of late years, sprigs, when made, are 
 sewn on paper, and joined either on the pillow by purlings, or by the needle 
 in various stitches, or by purlings made by the yard. 
 
 From a falling off in its patterns, Honiton lace has fallen into disuse. At 
 the Exhibition of 1862, the Honiton lace, though exquisite in workmanship, 
 could ill bear comparison with the Brussels. 
 
 Within the last quarter of a century the taste for lace has revived ; and 
 although many may condemn its use as extravagant, it must be remembered 
 that its manufacture furnishes employment to thousands of women who 
 would otherwise be forced to leave their homes to toil for a livelihood in no 
 less laborious, no more remunerative, and far less refining occupations. 
 
88 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 MACHINE-MADE LACE. 
 
 The manufacture of lace has its epochs, — 1768, net first made by machin- 
 ery; 1809, invention of bobbin-net; 1837, the Jacquard system applied to 
 the bobbin net machine. 
 
 Barbara Uttmann made a plain thread net, in Germany, three centuries 
 before any attempt was made to produce it by machinery. 
 
 The invention of machinery for lace-making is usually assigned to Ham- 
 mond, a stocking-frame knitter of Nottingham, who, examining one day the 
 broad lace on his wife's cap, thought he could apply his machine to the pro- 
 duction of a similar article. He so far succeeded that by use of the stocking- 
 frame, invented in the previous century, he produced, in 1768, not lace, but a 
 kind of knitting, of running loops or stitches, like that afterward known as 
 " Brussels ground." In 1777 Else and Harvey introduced the point-net 
 machine, so called because made on sharp pins or points. Other improve- 
 ments followed, but machinery had not yet arrived at producing a solid net : 
 it was still only knitting, a single thread passing from one end of the frame 
 to the other, and if a thread broke, the work was unravelled. The threads, 
 therefore, required to be gummed together to give stiffness and solidity to 
 the net. To remedy this evil, the warp or chain machine was invented, 
 which was again improved and made " Mechlin net," from which the machine 
 took its name. 
 
 The machine for making " bobbin-net " was invented by John Heathcoat 
 in 1809. " Bobbin-net " was so named because the threads are wound upon 
 bobbins. It was "twisted" instead of "looped" net. There are now 
 machines which make net three and a half and five yards wide. 
 
 The work done by the bobbin-net machine consists in the coiling of one 
 set of threads around another. The machine by which this is effected is a 
 singularly complex piece of mechanism. The principle of the invention 
 was the use of fixed parallel warp threads, round which the bobbin threads 
 were worked as the woof of the fabric, one set going obliquely across from 
 right to left, and the second set obliquely across from left to right. The 
 bobbin threads are made to pass to and fro between the vertical threads, 
 and to twist around them by a combination of movements. The vertical 
 threads shift laterally to and fro ; the bobbins have a backward and forward 
 motion, like the pendulum of a clock, and the frame to which they are all 
 attached has itself a distinct movement. Sometimes there are as many as 
 three or four thousand bobbins to one machine capable of making net five 
 yards in width. 
 
 In the machine, the warp threads, to the number of seven hundred to 
 twelve hundred in a yard of width, are stretched upon a roller which extends 
 the whole length of the thread-beam, and the woof threads are wound each 
 upon a bobbin formed of two thin brass disks riveted together, leaving a 
 narrow space between them for thread. These bobbins are fixed upon a 
 small carriage or frame which moves backwards and forwards like a weaver's 
 shuttle. 
 
Design Applied to Woven Fabrics, 
 
 89 
 
 The pieces of bobbin-net measure twenty or thirty yards each ; the width 
 is variable. 
 
 The narrow strips — even the narrow quillings used for cap-borders — are 
 made by the same machine, many breadths together, which are temporarily 
 united by threads that are finally drawn out. 
 
 A Jacquard apparatus is attached to some of the machines for working in 
 the thick thread of gimp for the ornamental figures. 
 
 Where the thread passes from one figure to the other, it is clipped off by 
 children. At many of the factories the pattern is worked in by hand. 
 
 The Government School of Design at Nottingham has educated many 
 skilful designers, who prepare the pattern upon wood or stone, as for engrav- 
 ing or printing, those parts intended to leave a mark being in relief. The 
 block, being moistened by some colored pigment, is repeatedly impressed 
 upon the net, until the pattern is transferred to the whole surface designed 
 for it, and the figure is then worked with the needle, the web being extended 
 horizontally in a frame. 
 
 Bobbin-net and lace are cleaned from the loose fibres of the cotton by the 
 ingenious process of " gassing," as it is called. A flame of gas is drawn 
 through the lace by means of a vacuum above. The sheet of lace passes to 
 the flame opaque and obscured by loose fibres, and issues from it bright and 
 clear, not to be distinguished from lace made by the purest linen thread, and 
 entirely uninjured by the flame. The net is stiffened by being dipped in a 
 mixture of gum and paste, then stretched, and afterwards rolled and pressed. 
 
 In 1834 eight bobbin-net machines were set up in Brussels for the purpose 
 of making the double and triple twisted net, upon which the pillow-flowers 
 are sewn to produce the Brussels application lace. In a few years they suc- 
 ceeded in excelling the English manufacture, and this net has for nearly thirty 
 years superseded the expensive pillow-ground. 
 
 Brussels produces little else but this extra fine ground, which is universally 
 known as " Brussels net." 
 
 MACHINERY LACE. 
 
 While England boasts of the invention of bobbin-net, France made appli- 
 cation of the Jacquard system to the net frame in 1837, and consequently 
 claims the invention of machinery lace. Shawls and larger pieces of "run 
 lace," as it is termed, had previously been made after this manner. The pat- 
 tern proposed to be " run in " is printed by means of engraved wood blocks 
 on the ground, which, if white, is of cotton, if black, of silk. 
 
 The ground is stretched on a frame ; the " lace-runner " places her left 
 hand under the net, and with the right works the pattern. The filling up of 
 the interior is termed "fining," or "open working," as the original meshes of 
 the net are brought to a smaller or larger size by the needle. 
 
 The Jacquard system had been used at Lyons in 1823-4, with the Mechlin 
 frame, for making patterned net and embroidered blondes ; this suggested 
 the appHcation of the Jacquard cards to making lace. In 1836 to 1838 Mr. 
 Ferguson, by applying it to the circular bobbin-net frame, brought out the 
 12 
 
90 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 black silk net imitation of Chantilly. The pattern was woven by the machine, 
 the brode, or relief, " run in." 
 
 Nottingham and Saint-Pierre-les-Calais rival each other in the variety of 
 their productions. 
 
 The French, by adopting what is technically termed eight " motives," pro- 
 duce their lace of a finer make and more complex pattern. 
 
 The Calais lace is an admirable copy of the square-grounded Valenciennes, 
 and is the staple trade of the manufacture. Calais also produces black and 
 white blondes, fancy nets of various patterns, the dentelles de lai?ie of Le 
 Puy, together with black and white laces innumerable. 
 
 Almost every description of lace is now manufactured by machinery, and 
 it is often no easy task, even for a practised eye, to detect the difference. 
 Still the most finished productions of the frame never possess the touch, the 
 finish, or the beauty of the laces made by hand. 
 
 The invention of the machine-made lace has not diminished the demand 
 for the finer fabrics of the pillow and the needle. The rich have sought more 
 largely than ever the exquisite works of Brussels or Alen^on, since machinery 
 has brought the wearing of lace within the reach of all classes of society. 
 
Flat or Surface Decoration, 
 
 91 
 
 XL 
 
 FLAT OR SURFACE DECORATION. 
 
 Surface decoration or ornamentation must have been practised at a very 
 early period ; for as far back as any records in history relating to the decora- 
 tive arts take us, we find that it was, in various ways and upon various 
 objects, by different nations and classes of people. The savage tattooed his 
 body and decorated the walls of his hut with hideously grotesque, roughly 
 drawn designs, representing his uncivilized ideas, and destitute of any prin- 
 ciples of form or beauty. Certain savage races, however, have displayed 
 much taste and power, considering the materials at their command, in orna- 
 menting their weapons of war, their persons, etc. 
 
 Leaving decoration amongst savage races, let us notice some characteristic 
 features of its use by the more civihzed nations, possessing and cultivating 
 principles of ornament which show a knowledge of the true principles of 
 form and beauty as relating to the decorative arts, whether symbolic or 
 aesthetic. All good ornament and good decoration have qualities which 
 appeal only to the educated mind. But before we can rightly understand 
 these, it will be necessary for us to inquire into the general revelation which 
 the ornament of any particular nation or people makes to us. 
 
 Illustrations of ornament composed of the conventionalized lotus or water- 
 lily may be found on nearly every Egyptian object of utility or ornament ; and 
 this device is repeated over and over again. The peculiarity of the drawing 
 of the Egyptian lotus expresses the peculiarity of Egyptian ornament, namely^ 
 a severity, a rigidity of line, a sort of sternness, coupled with an amount of 
 dignity which is very apparent. The priesthood, perceiving the watchful- 
 ness manifested by the people for the coming of the lotus, — for it was the 
 first flower to make its appearance after the subsidence of the overflowing 
 of the Nile, — taught that in it abode a god, and that it must be worshipped ; 
 and thus the lotus became an element of ornamentation and an object of 
 worship. Another device in Egyptian ornament is the " winged globe." 
 This ball or globe, from the sides of which extend two wings, each being 
 from five to eight times its diameter, was symbolical of the power of the 
 kingdom of Egypt. The priesthood taught that it was a symbol of protec- 
 tion, and it was placed on the lintel of every house of the Egyptians, as well 
 as on many other objects. Thus we see that Egyptian ornament was symbolic 
 
92 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 in character. Many principles of great value to the decorative artist, are 
 ■derivable from it. 
 
 In Greek ornament and decoration we find forms having a different object *■ 
 and a different aim from those of the Egyptians. It is not symbolic. The 
 Greeks, being a refined people, sought to express refinement in their works. 
 In one respect the Greeks resembled the Egyptians, for they rarely created 
 new forms. When once a form became sacred to the Egyptians it could not 
 be altered ; but in the Greeks, while bound by no law, the love of form was 
 great. They did not, however, simply reproduce what they had created, but 
 labored hard to improve and refine it, and even through succeeding centuries 
 strove to refine those simple forms and ornamental compositions which 
 have become characteristic of them as a people. The general expression of 
 Greek art is that of refinement, and the manner in which their delicately 
 cultivated taste is expressed in their ornament is astonishing. One decora- 
 tive device of Greek ornament, the Anthemion, may be regarded as their 
 principal ornament, and the variety of refined forms in which it appears is 
 most interesting. Great as is the beauty of some of these forms, we notice 
 that they show something more than the perfected taste of their producers, 
 for they reveal to us the fact that their creators had a great knowledge of 
 natural forces and the laws by which these forces were governed. This 
 becomes apparent when we inquire into the manner in which they arranged 
 the proportions of the various parts of their work to the whole, and especially 
 when we consider the subtile nature of the curves which they employed both 
 in architectural members and decorative forms. 
 
 There is much that is worthy of study in the decorative works of the 
 Persians, the Indians, the Chinese, and others, but our space will not allow 
 ■us to dwell on the beauties of each. The decoration of the Moors is most 
 exquisite and beautiful. The simplicity of arrangement of the varied geo- 
 metric forms upon which it is based, and the principles and laws by which 
 the Moors were governed in the division and subdivision of forms used in 
 decoration, are well worthy the careful study and consideration of the decora- 
 tive artist. But there are other meanings in ornament, and other general 
 expressions which decorative forms convey to the mind. Thus sharp, 
 angular, or spiny forms are more or less exciting, while bold and broad forms 
 are soothing and tend to give repose. 
 
 Nothing can be more important to the ornamentist than the scientific study 
 of art. The inquiry into cause and effect as relating to decorative ideas is 
 very important, indeed all-important, to the true decorator. He must con- 
 stantly ask himself what effect such and such a form has upon his mind ; which 
 effects are soothing, which cheerful, which melancholy, which rich, which 
 •ethereal, which gorgeous, which solid, which graceful, and so on ; and in 
 order to do this he must separate the various elements of composition, and 
 consider those parts, so as to be sure he is not mistaken as to what affects 
 his mind in any particular manner, and then combine these elements in vari- 
 ous proportions and consider the effects of the various combinations on the 
 minds of others, and he will thus discover what will enable him to so act 
 
Flat or Smface Decoration. 
 
 93 
 
 upon the senses as to induce such eifects as he may desire to produce. Let 
 the sense of the decoration of a dining-room be that of richness, of a drawing- 
 room, cheerfulness ; of a library, worth ; of a bed-room, repose. Glitter 
 should never occur in large quantities, for that which excites can only be 
 sparingly indulged in ; if it is too frequently employed, it gives the sense of 
 vulgarity. All decoration should possess and represent truthfulness ; for 
 what is more immoral or base than false ornament and decoration ? 
 
 Ornamentation is, in the highest sense of the word, a fine art ; there is no 
 art more ennobUng, none more exalted. It can cheer the sorrowing ; it can 
 soothe the troubled ; it can enhance the joys of those who make merry ; it 
 can inculcate the doctrines of truth ; it can refine, elevate, purify, and point 
 onward and upward to heaven and to God. This being the case, those who 
 ignore decoration cast aside a source of refinement, and deprive themselves 
 of what may elevate them in virtue and morals. Such neglect on the part of 
 those who can afford luxuries would be highly censurable, were it not that 
 many professors of the decorative arts are mere pretenders, knowing not what 
 they practise, and ignorant of the power they hold in their hands. The true 
 artist is a rare creature ; he is often unknown, frequently misunderstood or 
 not understood at all, and not unfrequently lost to a people that prefer shal- 
 lowness to depth, falsehood to truth, glitter to repose. 
 
 Decorative forms must be beautiful. Shapes which are not beautiful can 
 rarely be decorative. They must be truthful in expression, and graceful, 
 delicate, and refined in outline, manifesting no coarseness, vulgarity, or obtru- 
 siveness of character. A beautiful composition will have no parts which 
 can be taken from it, and leave the remainder equally good or better. The 
 perfectly beautiful is that which admits of no improvement. The beautiful 
 is lovable, and, like all which is lovable, it takes hold of the affections and 
 clings to them. 
 
 Having considered those principles which are of primary importance to the 
 decorator, we may now consider the special manner in which they should be 
 applied to the decoration of ceilings and walls of rooms. 
 
 We are met at the outset with a great difficulty. How are we to decide 
 upon the proper decoration for a room, since its fitness is often dependent 
 upon the structural and ornamental details of the room, and since in all 
 cases the character of the decoration should depend upon the character of 
 the architecture? Broadly speaking, if a building is in the Gothic style, all 
 that it contains in the way of decoration should be Gothic. If Greek, the 
 decoration should be Greek. If Italian, the decoration should be ItaHan, 
 and so on. 
 
 The character of the decoration must be not only in the style of the archi- 
 tecture of the building which it is intended to beautify, but it must be similar 
 in nature to the ornament, coeval with the architecture of the building. 
 
 It must not be supposed that we advocate the reproduction of works, or 
 even of styles of architecture such as were created in times gone by, for we 
 are not. The people of past ages carefully sought to ascertain their wants, 
 resulting from chmate, from the nature of their religion, and from their social 
 
94 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 arrangements, and satisfied them as far as the building material at their 
 
 command would allow. We, on the contrary, look at a hundred old build- 
 ings, and without considering that our needs differ from those of our fore- 
 fathers, take a bit from one and a bit from another, or we reproduce one 
 almost as it stands, and thus blunder on, instead of seeking to raise such 
 buildings as are in all respects suited to our modern requirements. We are, 
 however, improving in this respect, and changes for the better are being 
 made. 
 
 We have said that a building should be decorated with such ornament as 
 viras, in time past, associated with its particular form of architecture. Let not 
 the ornament, however, be a mere servile imitation of what has gone before, 
 but let the designer study the ornament of bygone ages till he understands 
 and feels its spirit, and then let him strive to produce new forms and new 
 combinations in the spirit of the ornament of the past. 
 
 This must be studied in its purity, and not from such wretched attempts at 
 Gothic decoration as we often see. Nothing can be worse than a bit of Greek 
 or a fragment of Egyptian ornament, a Moorish scroll, a Gothic flower, and 
 an Italian husk associated together in one ornament. Whatsis recommended 
 is the combination of new forms into compositions which may have the vigor 
 of the best Gothic ornament, the severity of the Egyptian, the intricacy of 
 the Persian, the richness of the Moorish, and so on, without imitating in 
 detail the various styles of the ornament of the past. 
 
 In the decoration of a room, the question is often asked, " Why make our 
 ceilings white ? " and we are told that as whiteness renders the ceiling almost 
 invisible it is preferred. Blue is the most ethereal and most distant of all 
 colors ; but we have been accustomed to white ceihngs from our infancy, 
 and have been taught to regard a clean white ceiling as all that is to be 
 desired. Blue, we have said, is ethereal in character, and may become 
 exceedingly so if of medium depth and of a gray hue ; hence, if a mere 
 atmospheric effect is sought, it would be desirable that this color be used on 
 the ceiling rather than white. Furthermore, the ceiling may become an 
 object of great beauty, and it can be seen as a whole. Suppose we have an 
 ordinary room to deal with : place all over the ceiling a pattern which repeats 
 equally in all directions ; let this pattern be in blue and white, or in blue 
 (of any depth) and cream color, and it is sure to look well, the blue being the 
 ground and the white the ornament. 
 
 Simple patterns in cream color on a blue ground, with strong black out- 
 lines, also look well ; and these may be prepared in paper and hung on the 
 ceiling as common paper-hangings, if cheapness is essential. Gold orna- 
 ments on a deep blue ground, with black outlines, also look rich and are 
 effective. These are all, however, simple methods of treatment ; for any 
 amount of color may be used on a ceiling, provided the colors are employed 
 in very small masses, and are perfectly combined, so that the effect produced 
 is that of a rich bloom. A ceiling should be beautiful, and should also be 
 manifest. The ceiling may look well if covered all over with a suitable pat- 
 tern, or it may look well with a central ornament only, or with a central 
 
Flat or Stiff ace Decoration. 
 
 95 
 
 ornament and corners, especially if the cornice is heavy, so as to give com- 
 pensating weight in the margin. If the ceiling is fiat, all ornament placed 
 upon it must not only be flat also, but must not fictitiously represent relief, 
 for no shaded ornament can be pleasant when used to decorate an architec- 
 tural surface. 
 
 Many circumstances tend to determine the nature of the decoration which 
 should be a^Dplied to a ceiling ; thus, if a ceiling is structurally divided into 
 square panels, the character of the ornament is thereby restricted ; and should 
 these panels be large, it will probably be desirable that each be fitted with 
 the same ornament ; while if they are small, three or four different patterns 
 may be employed, if arranged in an orderly manner. 
 
 A ceiling may also have joists or beams visible upon it, and in this case the 
 decoration must be of a very special character. The bottoms of the joists 
 may have a running pattern upon them, such as the Greek " key " or guil- 
 loche, whilst the sides may be decorated with a running pattern, or a pattern 
 with an upward tendency, such as the Greek " honeysuckle," and the ceiling 
 intervening between the joists with a running pattern, or better yet, a star or 
 diaper pattern. 
 
 If, however, the ceiling is flat, and is not divided into sections structurally, 
 almost any "setting out " of the surface may be employed. In any case it is 
 not necessary or even desirable that the ornament upon the ceiling be in re- 
 lief. Avoid an architectural setting out, if there are no structural members ; 
 for ornament which is flat may be spread in any manner over a surface with- 
 out even appearing to need structural supports. 
 
 As to the color of a ceiling, if there is to be no ornament upon it, let it be 
 cream color rather than white. Cream color always looks well upon a ceiling, 
 and gives the idea of purity. A gray-blue is also a very good color for a 
 ceiling. 
 
 To paint pictures upon ceilings, as has been done in some parts of Europe, 
 is in every way wrong, i. A ceiling is a flat surface, hence all decoration 
 placed upon it should be flat also. 2. A picture can only be correctly seen 
 from one point of view, whereas the decoration of a ceiling should be of such 
 a character that it can be well seen from any part of the room. 3. Pictures 
 have almost invariably a right and a wrong way upwards to almost all the 
 guests in the room. 4. In order to understand a picture, you must see its 
 entire surface at one time, which it is very difficult to do without fatiguing the 
 neck or lying on your back upon the floor ; whereas an ornament which con- 
 sists of repeated parts does not require that the whole ceiling be seen at 
 one glance. 
 
 What can be worse than painted festoons of leafage, hung like so many 
 sausages, upon a ceiling, with griffins, small framed pictures, impossible 
 flowers, and feeble ornament, and picked out with fictitious light and shade ? 
 But not content with such absurdities and incongruities, the festoons of leaf- 
 age hang upwards rather than downwards on vaulted or domed ceilings. 
 Such ornament was first used when Rome, intoxicated with its conquests, 
 yielded itself up to luxury and vice rather than to a consideration of beauty 
 and truth. 
 
96 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 In all ages when decorative art has flourished, ceilings have been deco- 
 rated, — by the Egyptians, the Greeks, and by the people of the Middle Ages 
 
 We will now consider the manner in which ornament should be applied to 
 walls with the view of rendering them decorative. 
 
 A wall may look well without decoration, strictly so called, and this state- 
 ment leads us to notice the various ways in which walls may be treated with 
 the view of rendering them both decorative and beautiful. A wall may be 
 simply tinted, either with distemper color or "flatted" oil color. Distemper 
 color gives the best effect, and is much the cheapest, but it is not at all 
 durable. Every mark will show upon it. If rubbed, it is marked, and it 
 cannot be washed. Oil color, when flatted, makes a good wash, whether 
 "stippled" or plain. It is durable, and maybe washed. An entire wall 
 should never be varnished. 
 
 A good effect, of a very plain and inexpensive character, may be produced 
 by a black skirting to a cream-colored wall, a cornice tinted with a pale gray- 
 ish blue, with blue of almost any depth, with white, and a slight line of red. 
 
 A slightly more decorative character may be given to a room, by painting 
 the lower three feet of the wall of a different color (thus forming a dado) 
 from the upper part of the wall. Thus, if the other parts of the room are 
 colored as in the example just given, the lower three feet may be red (made 
 of vermilion toned to a rich Indian red with ultramarine blue) or chocolate 
 (made of purple, brown, and white, with a little orange chrome). This lower 
 portion of the wall should be separated from the upper cream-colored portion 
 by a line of black an inch broad, or better by a double hne, the upper line 
 being an inch broad, the lower line three eighths of an inch, and the two lines 
 being separated from each other by five eighths of an inch of the red or 
 chocolate. 
 
 The formation of a dado is Hked, because it gives an apparent stability 
 to the wall by making its lower portion dark, and because furniture is invari- 
 ably much improved by being seen against a dark background. The dado 
 need not be plain ; on the contrary, it may be enriched to any extent. It 
 may be plain, with a bordering separating it from the wall ; or it may have a 
 simple flower regularly dispersed over it ; or it may be covered with a geo- 
 metrical repeating pattern, — in either of which cases it should have a border ; 
 or it may be enriched with a specially designed piece of ornament. 
 
 If the dado is enriched with ornament, and the cornice is colored, and a 
 pattern is repeated upon the ceiling, the walls may be plain if they are of soft 
 colors, or they may be covered with a simple " powdering." 
 
 If a room is high, a bordering may run round the upper portion of the wall 
 about three to four inches below the cornice. 
 
 Walls in middle-class houses are usually papered. This universal custom 
 is not objectionable ; but the paper should be so put on as not to show the 
 joinings. The paper should be cut to the pattern and not in straight lines. 
 Paper for walls should be used artistically, and not as paper. 
 
 As to the nature of the pattern which a wall-paper should have, it is almost 
 impossible to speak, as there are endless varieties ; but as a rule, it may be 
 
 » 
 
Flat or Surface Decoration. 
 
 97 
 
 said that those patterns made up of small, simple, repeated parts, which are 
 low-toned or neutral in color, are the best. Most wall-paper patterns are 
 larger than is desir.ible. The pattern can scarcely be too simple, and it 
 should in all cases consist of flat ornament. 
 
 If the ornament is very good, and the pattern is the work of a true artist, 
 it may be larger, for then the parts will be balanced and harmonized in a 
 manner that could not be expected from a less skilful hand ; but even if by 
 the most talented designer, it must be remembered that he has designed it 
 at random, and not as a suitable decoration for any particular room. The 
 man who selects the pattern for a particular wall must choose that which is 
 suitable to the special case. 
 
 The best wall-paper patterns are those which consist of somewhat strong 
 colors in very small masses, — so small, in fact, that the general effect of the 
 paper is rich, low-toned, and neutral, and yet has a glowing color-bloom ; but 
 these are rarely met with. 
 
 Respecting the coloring of cornices, a few words should be said. i. They 
 may be painted in bright colors. 2. As a rule, get red in shadow or in shade ; 
 blue on fiat or hollow surfaces, especially those that recede from the eye, and 
 yellow on rounded advancing members. 3. Use for red either vermilion or 
 carmine ; for blue, ultramarine, either pure or with white ; for yellow, middle 
 or orange chrome, diluted with white. 4. Use red very sparingly, blue 
 abundantly, and pale yellow in medium quantity. 
 
98 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 XIL 
 
 WATER- COLOR PAINTING. 
 
 Water-colors in the present day are very different from the tinted and 
 washed drawings of earher times. Instead of being called drawing in water- 
 colors the process has received the higher name of water-color painting. 
 
 The colors no longer simply wash the surface of the paper, but in many 
 instances they so saturate the paper as really to become a part of it. Care 
 must be taken to use such colors only as are known to be durable. Water- 
 colors are admirably adapted for the representation of atmosphere under any 
 conditions ; for middle distance also they compete successfully with oil-colors, 
 but for foregrounds and foliage they can never attain to the same depth and 
 power, and be accompanied with the same minute detail. 
 
 To obtain depth and power in the lightest tones of finished works, a single 
 color is not sufficient ; it is necessary to repeat the washings-on and wash- 
 ings-off in order that the tint may become granular like the surface of the 
 paper. 
 
 It is from this peculiar grain of the surface that the eye rather looks into 
 it than upon it, receiving an impression of space rather than of definite dis- 
 tance, and in this respect water-color has a decided advantage over oil paint- 
 ing. In the former, a literal rendering of objects in the foreground, particu- 
 larly of trees and herbage, is seldom attempted, generalization and sentiment 
 being more suited to this style of art. 
 
 There is no effect of which water-color is not capable, whether of power or 
 of delicacy, intensity, or purity. Being equally adapted to figure painting 
 and landscape, it will faithfully fulfil the dictate of the artist's will, and be- 
 come an instructive, perfect, and permanent work. 
 
 There are principles which do not really concern water-color painting, but 
 as they are in every sense so connected with it that it must have recourse to 
 them, it seems necessary to notice them here. 
 
 FORM. 
 
 Beauty and symmetry of form are dependent more upon curved than upon 
 straight lines : in the former the eye perceives a deviation without disturbance, 
 and therefore they are in consonance with the feelings, while in the latter at 
 every angle produced it receives a certain check, and is consequently affected. 
 
Water-Color Painting, 
 
 99 
 
 As form is the construction of nature, so is color the expression of it, 
 and both are in a measure dependent upon each other. To say that senti- 
 ment cannot be portrayed by form would be untrue, as character can be 
 expressed by lines of some sort or other ; but the veritable representation and 
 perfection of sentiment can only be completely rendered by color, whether 
 gay or sombre. 
 
 COMPOSITION. 
 
 The leading idea and unity of purpose, so essential both to the poem and 
 the picture, must bq strictly observed. 
 
 In landscape painting the picture may be.described as being that portion of 
 nature visible at one time and from one spot. 
 
 The first studies of composition should be faithful transcripts of the lines 
 as they appear in nature. Subjects having simple forms should be selected, 
 and from these no deviation should be permitted ; by this practice the mind 
 becomes stored with images so clear and distinct as never to be forgotten, 
 simplicity of parts and lines being at all times necessary to produce repose. 
 After a little practice in composition, the student will become aware that lines 
 receding from the foreground or base line of the picture, assist the perspec- 
 tive, and lead to a true estimation of the distance of objects, while those par- 
 allel to it only carry the eye from one side to the other. A road, a path, or 
 a river may serve to increase the interest by conducting the eye into space, 
 and by directing the attention towards the distance, or the special points of 
 the subject. Any position in which the ruts of a road run perpendicularly 
 from the base-line should be changed for one which will make them incline 
 either to the right or left. 
 
 The terminations of promontories must be varied so that they may not 
 appear to be exactly under one another, — an error of position to be avoided. 
 One attractive element may successfully balance another of a different char- 
 acter. The horizon line is of the greatest importance, and it should always 
 indicate the height of the eye. The point of sight should be placed more or 
 less to the right or left in the picture. In regard to distance, only one por- 
 tion of a landscape is in the proper focus to be seen distinctly at one time ; 
 yet, as all the objects represented in a picture are placed at the same actual 
 distance from the eye, we should select such a spot in the natural view as 
 we desire to render most attractive in the drawing; then, assuming that 
 particular spot to be our focus, the other parts should be rendered more or 
 less apparent, by being more or less finished in proportion as their distance 
 from that point increases ; in this way the eye will be led to dwell on the 
 most important point. Lines should be arranged and modified in such a 
 manner as to keep the eye from wandering out of the picture. 
 
 Simplicity in arranging points of interest should be the chief aim ; one 
 object should never be placed over another, if intended to be of the same size 
 and to have effect ; neither should two objects of the same size and interest 
 be so placed as to appear one on each side of some middle object. 
 
 The form of a picture must not be exactly square. The effect of height in 
 lofty objects, as a near view of a cathedral tower or a mountain peak, is often 
 aided by an upright form. 
 
\ 
 
 lOO The Antefix Papers. 
 
 LIGHT AND SHADE. 
 
 There is an evident tendency in nature towards one spot o bright light, 
 and one portion of shadow or concentrated dark ; and when, in a picture, 
 these are in opposition, a greater and more brilhant effect is the result. The 
 light portions of objects should, in art as in nature, first attract the attention ; 
 after this, perhaps, the extreme darks, such as cast shadows ; then the larger 
 masses of half lights and half darks. The form and distribution of the masses 
 of light are of primary importance. 
 
 In practice, it will be necessary to study light and shade in two parts : first, 
 the simple effect of every individual object ; then the general arrangement of 
 the lights and darks, whether accidental or not. Objects nearest the eye 
 have the most brilliant lights, the darkest shades, and the deepest shadow, 
 all of which diminish in power as they recede from the eye ; to this degra- 
 dation of power, white forms the only exception. 
 
 CAST SHADOWS, 
 
 Whether of individual objects in the picture, or of extended objects, as clouds, 
 out of the line of vision, are very useful in indicating the shape of the surface 
 on which they are thrown, by defining more distinctly the undulation of the 
 ground, by seeming to hide unnecessary or ugly forms, and by supporting 
 the lines of the composition, where the outlines of the objects themselves 
 are not sufficient for this purpose. 
 
 The aerial perspective of all receding roads, paths, or streams is greatly 
 assisted by shadows thrown across them. 
 
 The style in this branch of art, as in other branches, is dependent upon 
 our appreciation of nature, upon the impression she conveys to us, and the 
 manner in which we use our technical materials. Nature has no particular 
 style ; she is perfect under every circumstance ; and the lessons which she 
 gives the student will be differently received according to his perception and 
 feeling. By some she will be most esteemed in detail, by others when gen- 
 eralized ; many will specially appreciate her forms, while others will become 
 devotees at her shrine of color. It is well to copy from good works, but only 
 as a help, to teach us to see and understand nature. 
 
 It must be remembered that the process of water-color painting is very 
 different from that of oil painting, in which we begin with the colors of the 
 shadows and shades ; while when painting in water-colors, we have to begin 
 with the lights, and so work towards the darks and shadows. Pure colors are 
 used only in a very small portion of any single object, or, indeed, of a whole 
 picture, which is only in its primitive state so long as it is out of the influ- 
 ence of strong light, shadow, or reflection. When acted upon by either, it 
 becomes changed, and assumes a different hue. 
 
 Both beauty and interest may be given to simple objects. The more un- 
 pretending the object, the more will our knowledge of nature and art be 
 called into action. Good drawing, a beautiful disposition of line, truthfulness 
 of coloring, with breadth of light and shadow, are necessary to render such 
 
Water-Color Painting. 
 
 lOI 
 
 objects interesting ; for although the effect as a whole is harmonious, and the 
 eye is impressed with a singleness of character as to color, yet upon a careful 
 examination it will be found to possess almost every variety of tone and tint 
 that can be brought together. Prettiness of execution is to be avoided, 
 especially if made attractive for itself. The whole subject should be so rep- 
 resented that it will claim attention before the colors, the touches, or their 
 handling. 
 
 If a building is to be introduced in the picture, it may in some cases be 
 well to put in the first washes of it before attending to the sky, for the 
 reason that we then see better where those lights fall that are indispensable 
 to the subject. A scene must always be completely realized in imagination 
 before it can be depicted upon the paper with any hope of success ; then, 
 having the paper properly stretched, and all materials at hand that are re- 
 quired for finishing the sketch, an accurate and light outline in pencil should 
 be made. A slight outline should be given to clouds, and their position 
 should be correctly given as to altitude and size. Having completed the 
 outline, before any tint or color be applied, the paper should be damped with 
 water ; blotting-paper may be applied to remove the excess if time is an 
 object. 
 
 Have the brush well charged with color, and begin at the top, either to the 
 right or left, and before exhausting the contents of the brush take a fresh sup- 
 ply, and so continue till the whole space is covered. Instead of afterwards 
 reducing the strength of color by softening with water, it is safer to work up 
 to required strength by means of two or more repeated tints. (The brush 
 must not be too full ; if so, the color separates from the water, and is so 
 precipitated as to form dark spots upon the surface of the paper. Force of 
 handling must be employed to make the tints lie evenly, and so prevent ex- 
 cess.) First, tint the entire surface ; second, turn the drawing upside-down, 
 and begin with water, adding color by degrees until its full power is reached 
 towards the top ; third, repeat the same process, but a little Chinese white 
 may be added with advantage to obtain greater delicacy. 
 
 Should the first and second tints be unequally laid on, wash the whole 
 with a brush and plain water ; and if this should be insufficient, use a soft 
 piece of sponge transversely, so as to prevent any direction of line being 
 formed. The sponge must never be employed until the first washing is given 
 with a brush. 
 
 Where depth is combined with lightness, washing off with plain water will 
 be attended with much benefit, as a very thin tint applied afterwards will 
 renew strength, provided that the edges and outlines of the several washes 
 always are preserved. This of course cannot be done out-of-doors, as tint 
 upon tint must be put on rapidly, lest the effects to be rendered should pass 
 away, and the opportunity be lost. 
 
 The colors once used should not be retouched until quite dry. In laying 
 in the first tints of clouds, a certain degree of boldness is desirable, so that 
 their forms may be left with well-defined edges, which are essential to their 
 character as clouds. Great attention must be paid to the first tints at this 
 
im2 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 stage of the drawing. When dry, washes appear rather lighter and cooler than 
 they did while wet ; they also lose by contrast with the more powerful colors 
 in the foreground. When painting a sky, colors should be mixed in sufficient 
 quantities to complete each tint. Distance sometimes must be blended with 
 the sky ; if consisting of foliage only, it must be represented in masses, 
 without any expression of detail. The character of the forms of distant moun- 
 tains may be indicated by using a brush of medium size, with perhaps some 
 thick cobalt, and dragging it at the side to express the several distances. It 
 is a difficult operation, and it will be better to try it once or twice on a spare 
 piece of paper before trying it upon the drawing. A warm tone may be 
 given to those parts requiring it by washing them over with Naples yellow 
 and rose madder. 
 
 In mountains, the first thing to be sought for is accuracy of outline. All 
 mountain forms possess a greater or less dignity, while they at the same time 
 have their own shapes and peculiarities. The whole is made up of parts ; 
 each of these parts engages the attention of the eye and conveys a certain 
 impression to the mind. The magnitude and vastness of mountain scenery 
 is difficult to represent and is seldom successfully rendered. 
 
 In the representation of foliage, there is considerable difficulty in giving 
 the idea of leaves, which of course is the chief thing to aim at- The great 
 secret lies, without doubt, in the outside touch, and the distribution of lights 
 between the branches. The shadows are put in by separate touches, with 
 still thicker color than in the first washes, the brush being well lifted from 
 the paper at every stroke, so that a certain crispness may be kept up through- 
 out ; this must be done in treating clouds as well, but particularly in render- 
 ing foliage. Every touch must follow in the direction of the branch, and 
 separate the light from the shadow. 
 
 Decision of touch, crispness of outline, and correctness of color, are neces- 
 sities in tree painting. In trees we may consider three degrees of shadow 
 after the first flat wash, — first, those which are broad leaving only the high- 
 est lights ; second, those which mark the general forms of shadow ; and 
 third, those which consist of a few characteristic and deep touches. When 
 rough paper is used, a little ox-gall will be found useful to make the touches 
 take more easily ; but very Httle is required to effect this. For representing 
 water or the general surface of water, the brush should be used horizontally, 
 and for reflection perpendicularly. In all touches of dark color, as in the 
 shadows of buildings, ruins, etc., the action of the hand should be quick and 
 firm, the brush being lifted from the paper at each stroke ; attention to this 
 will give transparency — a quality that is essential to shadow. 
 
 The middle distance is a very difficult portion of a picture to manage well. 
 If the local color of objects begins to show itself in the endeavor to produce 
 depth, atmosphere is lost, and if efforts be made to restore it the result is too 
 often insipid and weak. The great secret lies in the avoidance of crude, 
 harsh colors and lines ; nevertheless there must always be decision of form 
 in everything, however faintly it may be given. So far as color is concerned 
 it must be more or less broken, and mixed with the prevailing tone of the 
 
Water-Color Painting. 
 
 103 
 
 atmosphere, whether in light or in shadow. Single washes will seldom effect 
 this ; recourse must be had to frequent glazings in order to give depth and 
 transparency ; for where light diminishes, transparency increases, — a fact 
 generally overlooked. 
 
 The task to be accomplished in the foreground is to produce breadth, with 
 repeated changes of color and multiplicity of form. The general effect should 
 be aimed at, and at last a few deep touches or markings should be put in to 
 give vigor and power. Life and action are entirely dependent upon figures, 
 and by a judicious arrangement of them, and their suitability to the subject, 
 a landscape, otherwise void of interest, is frequently made to assume a most 
 beautiful and attractive character. Each subject should have that class of 
 figures best adapted to it ; and each time of day should have a corresponding 
 occupation, such as going to labor, laboring, and returning from labor ; each 
 will thus have a particular tale to tell, and will have additional interest. Size 
 and dimensions are also given by the introduction of figures ; they serve as 
 a standard of comparison whereby every other object can be measured. 
 Some scenes require a numerous assemblage, while others are unsuited to 
 more than one figure, and that one contemplative. It matters little how many 
 or how few the figures are, provided they are well adapted to the subject, and 
 so placed that the general effect is enhanced by them. As regards color the 
 chief requirement is that those colors should be selected which are suited to 
 the general tone of the landscape, and that they should be placed in positions 
 where power and concentration are needed. 
 
 Cattle also give a great charm to landscape scenery ; with figures they form 
 most pleasing groups ; their colors are rich and dark, and their purity is thus 
 enhanced. Flowers, fruit, and still life are good objects for the study of color, 
 and possess the advantage of being procurable at almost any time. 
 
 Fine paintings of well-arranged groups of fruit and flowers have often a 
 great charm, but they are of very little importance unless of great excellence. 
 
 A little skill in this class of subjects is not regarded, while the same skill 
 or amount of knowledge in landscape painting is an unvarying source of pleas- 
 ure, and often gives delight by recalling scenes which would be forgotten 
 without pleasing mementoes in the form of sketches. 
 
 Earthenware, jars, and pitchers, grouped with drapery, wooden tubs, and 
 other objects of still life, are the most choice subjects for the landscape 
 student. The color and effect of light on those objects is very beautiful and 
 offers great variety ; it is, moreover, of that kind which appears in a natural 
 scene. One who is accustomed to make good sketches of such materials will 
 find but little difficulty in the management of pigments when sketching out-of- 
 doors. The art of disposing the folds of drapery forms a very considerable 
 part of the painter's study. Carlo Maratta was of opinion that the disposition 
 of drapery was even a more difficult art than that of drawing the human fig- 
 ure ; he thought that a student might be more easily taught the latter than 
 the former, as the rules of drapery were, in his opinion, more difficult to 
 ascertain than those for delineating a correct form. 
 
 To paint drapery as it happens to fall is a mechanical operation, which re- 
 
104 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 quires neither genius nor taste, whereas the nicest judgment is required to 
 dispose it so that the folds shall have an easy communication, and while 
 gracefully following each other with such natural negligence as to look like 
 the effect of chance, shall show the figure under them to the utmost advan- 
 tage. It is well understood that great attention must be paid to our first 
 studies ; simple as objects may seem, if carefully studied, they can teach us 
 much that will in future time be very useful, and prove sound foundation for 
 any higher branch of art that we may enter upon. 
 
lempera Painting. 
 
 105 
 
 XIIL 
 
 TEMPERA PAINTING. 
 
 The original meaning and the accepted sense of the word " tempera," or 
 its English equivalent, distemper, have already been given. In its original 
 sense Milton so used it when he wrote, — 
 
 " I shall temper so 
 Justice with mercy as may illustrate most 
 Them fully satisfied and these appease," 
 
 The accepted sense of the word is purely technical, and to it alone are we 
 to confine ourselves in this paper. 
 
 We find that real fresco painting is a very difficult art, and that the great 
 masters sometimes finished in tempera what they began in fresco. Now, as 
 the tendency to magnify our occupation is a natural one, it is not strange to 
 find the term retained after the method was abandoned for the easier and 
 surer, but less durable one of tempera. We talk of frescoing our rooms 
 when we mean decorating them in tempera or distemper. Our fresco painters 
 do not paint in fresco, i. e. upon fresh plaster, with water and lime as a 
 medium, but upon dry walls, with glue-size or oil as a medium. We have 
 been told (p. 21) the nature of the medium used in former times. That in 
 most general use at the present time, for large work, is made from glue, an 
 animal substance, obtained by boiling hides, hoofs, and tendons of animals. 
 A gelatine obtained from fish is also used, and the vegetable gums — arable, 
 copal, shellac, sandarac, etc. — with which we are familiar. These are the 
 principal substances used as mediums, which, when mixed with our ordinary 
 pigments, are employed to produce works technically termed tempera or dis- 
 temper paintings. 
 
 Having found, in our researches for light upon this topic, a volume of 
 " quaint and curious lore," which reveals not only the technicalities of tem- 
 pera, but also gives us glimpses of the inner life of the old masters, their 
 religious enthusiasm and faith, their difficulties in preparation for the execu- 
 tion of their great works, we give some extracts from a work entitled " Trea- 
 tise on Painting, written by Cennino Cennini, in 1437, first published in 
 182 1, and translated by Mrs. Merrifield, in 1844," thinking they may be in- 
 teresting if not profitable. The introduction to the first chapter commences : 
 14 
 
io6 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Here begins the book on the art, made and composed by Cennino de 
 Calle, in the reverence of God and of the Virgin Mary, and of St. Eusta- 
 chius, and of St. Francis, and of St. John the Baptist, and of St. Anthony of 
 Padua, and generally of all the Saints of God, and in the reverence of Giotto 
 of Taddeo, and of Agnolo, the masters of Cennino, and for the utility and 
 good and advantage of those who would attain perfection in the arts." 
 
 Then follows an account of the creation and of the temptation and fall of 
 Adam, in which the author is particular to put the blame upon Eve. He also 
 tells how Adam had to earn his bread by digging, and Eve by spinning, and 
 traces the successive development of the sciences and the arts. He crowns 
 painting with poetry, and says : " To the painter is given liberty to compose 
 a figure either upright or sitting, or half man, half horse, as he pleases, 
 according to his fancy." 
 
 He then proceeds to tell us by what authority he speaks upon this great 
 topic, in the following words : — 
 
 " I, Cennino, son of Andrea Cennini, born in the Calle di Valdelsa, was 
 instructed in these arts for twelve years by Agnolo, son of Taddeo, of Flor- 
 ence, my master, who learned the art from Taddeo, his father, the godson of 
 Giotto, whose disciple he had been for twenty-four years. 
 
 " This Giotto introduced the Greek manner of painting among the Latins 
 and united it to the modern school, and the art became more perfect than it 
 had ever been before. In order to assist all those who are desirous of acquir- 
 ing this art, I shall make notes of all that was taught me by my master, 
 Agnolo, and which I have proved by my own hands, invoking first the high 
 omnipotent God, that is to say, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ; secondly, 
 that most delightful advocate of all sinners, the Virgin Mary, and St. Luke, 
 the Evangelist, the first Christian painter, and my advocate, St. Eustachius, 
 and generally all the saints, male and female, of Paradise. Amen." 
 
 Chapter IV is devoted to an enumeration of the things to be learned, 
 under the two divisions of drawing and coloring. It tells first, how to grind 
 colors ; second, how to use glue ; third, how to fasten cloth on the panel ; 
 fifth, how to prime with chalk ; sixth, how to smooth the surface of the ground 
 of the picture ; seventh, how to polish it ; eighth, how to make relievos in 
 plaster ; ninth, how to use bole ; tenth, how to gild ; eleventh, how to bur- 
 nish ; twelfth, how to temper colors ; thirteenth, how to lay flat colors ; four- 
 teenth, how to powder a drawing ; fifteenth, how to scrape ; sixteenth, how 
 to engrave gilding ; seventeenth, how to rule lines, and how to color, to 
 adorn, and to varnish pictures. 
 
 These items reveal to us some of the material difiiculties under which the 
 artist labored in those days, — difficulties which science and art, through 
 the division of labor, have removed out of our path. 
 
 Chapter VII treats of the proper kind of bones for priming pictures. The 
 author says, " For this purpose take the bones of the ribs and wings of fowls, 
 and the older they are the better. When you find them under the table, put 
 them into the fire ; and when you see they are becoming whiter than ashes, 
 take them out, and grind them well on the porphyry slab, and keep the 
 powder for use." 
 
Tempera Painting. 
 
 107 
 
 The next fifty chapters are devoted to the preparation of paper and parch- 
 ment, and to drawing from models and nature. 
 
 Then follow thirty chapters devoted to pigments and their preparation ; 
 brushes, and how to make them, which make the modern reader rejoice that 
 Winsor and Newton live in our day. 
 
 In chapter LXX, which is headed "The Proportions of the Human Fig- 
 ure," Cennino says : — 
 
 " Before I proceed further, I will make you acquainted with the propor- 
 tions of a man. I omit those of a woman because there is not one of them 
 perfectly proportioned. The face is divided into three parts : the forehead 
 one, the nose another, and from the nose to the chin a third ; from the 
 edge of the nose, the whole length of the eye, one part ; from the corner of 
 the eye to the ear, one part, etc. The length of a man is equal to his 
 width with his arms extended. A man has on his left side one rib less than 
 a woman. Men should be dark, women fair, etc. I shall not speak of 
 irrational animals, as they appear to have no certain proportions. Draw 
 them as frequently as you can, and you will ascertain for yourselves." 
 
 Part Fifth, Chapter CIV, thus opens with good advice as to patience in 
 acquiring the art : — 
 
 *' Know that you cannot learn to paint in less time than that which I shall 
 name to you. In the first place you must study drawing for at least one 
 year ; then you must remain with a master in the workshop for the space of 
 six years at least, that you may learn to grind the colors, boil glue, etc. etc. 
 Afterward to practise coloring and paint on walls for six more years, drawing 
 without intermission on holidays and workdays. By this means you will 
 acquire experience. If you do otherwise, you will never attain perfection." 
 
 The next forty chapters are devoted to recipes for various kinds of glue, 
 colors, etc. Then the author proceeds to tell how to color and to temper the 
 colors, and says, " Now, by the grace of God, I should like to teach you to 
 color pictures. You must know that pairfting is the proper employment of a 
 gentleman, and that, with velvet on his back, he may paint what he pleases. 
 It is true that pictures are painted in the same manner as fresco, with three 
 exceptions : one is, that you must always paint the draperies and buildings 
 before you paint the faces ; the second is, that you must temper your colors 
 with the yolk of egg, always putting as much of the yolk as of the color you 
 would temper with it ; third, that the colors must be ground very fine, like 
 water (that is, to an impalpable powder)." 
 
 But we will not quote further. This treatise has revealed to us the meth- 
 ods of those early days as no other work we have met has done. Leaving 
 the generalities and rhapsodies of most writers, the author takes us into his 
 confidence and tells us the secrets of the trade, dropping expressions inad- 
 vertently which reveal the condition of civilization four hundred and fifty years 
 ago, — revealing also that strong religious spirit which actuated the times. 
 It closes with these words : — 
 
 " Praying that the most high God, our Lady, St. John, St. Luke the evan- 
 gelist and painter, St. Eustachius, St. Francis, and St. Anthony of Padua, 
 
io8 
 
 The Antcfix Papers. 
 
 may give us grace and strength to bear in peace the cares and labors of this 
 world, and that to those who study this book, they will give grace to study it 
 well and retain it, so that by the sweat of their brows they may live peaceably 
 and maintain their families in this world with grace, and finally, in that which 
 is to come, live with glory for ever and ever. Amen." 
 
 From the old world and the old masters, let us- for a moment turn our 
 thoughts to the new world and to living artists.* We called a few days since 
 upon Mr. McPherson, whose establishment on Tremont Street is well worth 
 a visit, to learn how tempera painting is done at the present day. Mr. 
 McPherson served his apprenticeship with Mr. Hay of Scotland, whose works 
 upon color are standard authorities. When he came here, twenty-five years 
 ago, he found but little demand for his services ; but the progress has been 
 rapid, till now, in busy times, he says he has a hundred and fifty men on his 
 pay-roll, and that there is a demand for his services in all the large cities of 
 the country. 
 
 In reply to the question how he would decorate the walls of a given 
 room in tempera, in a private house, he said he should first have the 
 owner select the furniture and carpets ; then he would take into account 
 the use for which the room was intended, — whether for a drawing, sitting, 
 or dining room ; then the aspect, — i. e. whether it had a northern or a south- 
 ern exposure. Having as data the color and character of the furniture, the 
 use and the aspect of the room, he studies to use such colors and designs as 
 will blend and harmonize everything in it, and give it that cheerful, homelike 
 air which is more easily comprehended and felt than described in words. 
 
 Behind the scenes of the Boston Theatre, amidst a wilderness of ropes, 
 pulleys, trap-doors, etc., we found Mr. Getz, the scene-painter of that estab- 
 lishment ; and, as with all artists and artisans, we found him very obliging, 
 and apparently pleased to impart all the information in his power respecting 
 his profession, in which he seemed an enthusiast. He said a good scene- 
 painter must be master of landscape, portrait, figure, and historic painting ; 
 he must understand the laws of effects, and so design his scenes that when 
 they serve as backgrounds to the forms of living actors they may be neutral 
 and subdued, and not overpowering in their effect. Scene-painting is pure 
 tempera, — perhaps the only pure tempera now practised. 
 
Fresco Painting, 109 
 
 XIV. 
 
 FRESCO PAINTING. 
 
 Keats says, " A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Its loveliness increases ; 
 it will never pass into nothingness." And looking back over the centuries 
 that have preceded this, we see the truth of the poet's words. Apparently 
 impressed with the beauties of nature, man everywhere seeks to imitate, to 
 the best of his ability, those beauties which he sees about him ; and from the 
 earliest ages to the present time has given evidence of his spirit of decoration. 
 Upon the mummy-cases of the Egyptians we find picture writing combined 
 with other decorations, and upon the walls of their temples and other build- 
 ings other evidences of their love of ornament are to be found. The Greeks, 
 Etruscans, and Romans also have left us more or less perfect examples of 
 their handiwork, while modern nations add their works as testimony to the 
 universality of this love of the beautiful. 
 
 To the already mentioned practice of writing on and decorating the walls 
 of tombs and buildings, we are indebted for a great part of our knowledge 
 of ancient history and art ; and from these and other ruins of times long 
 past, it appears that the ancients were acquainted with several methods of 
 painting upon wall surfaces, and had discovered that any coloring substance 
 mixed with plaster while wet would remain in it when dry. 
 
 Whether this painting of the ancients is what is now known as true 
 fresco, is questioned, and we have no satisfactory ancient authority upon the 
 subject. 
 
 The term fresco is an Italian word, signifying fresh, and that method of 
 painting has already been described (p. 20). 
 
 Mural paintings were executed upon plaster of various kinds, laid upon 
 walls variously constructed, and several examples occur of frescos which 
 were painted upon plaster laid upon lathing. 
 
 Mr. Charles H. Wilson, some years ago, was employed by the Commis- 
 sioners of Fine Arts of England to collect information relating to the objects 
 of the commission, and in his report he gives an account of the different 
 kinds of walls appropriate for fresco painting, and describes its technical 
 processes. Of painted walls, he says, "The oldest examples are to be found 
 in Italian Gothic structures, such as the Church of Assisi and the Cathedrals 
 of Orvieto and Siena." In the first of these churches there are numerous 
 
no 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 specimens of the earliest application of the revived art of painting upon 
 walls. In the others, instances also occur which, although less important, 
 may be mentioned in illustration of the subject. 
 
 The interiors of the above-mentioned buildings are finished in fine 
 masonry ; the walls, externally and internally, have ashlar facings, with a 
 heart of rubble. In some instances the walls are of marble, in others of 
 stone, in others, again, of brick ; but in every case the mere workmanship is 
 very fine. When, at a subsequent period, the ashlar walls of these buildings 
 were covered with paintings, one, or, at most, two very thin coats of plaster 
 were laid on, — sometimes formed of lime and sand, at other times of lime 
 and marble dust, — and the pictures were painted upon these grounds. They 
 were, in most cases, commenced when the plaster was wet ; but as, from its 
 thinness, such plaster would dry very rapidly, the pictures were finished in 
 distemper, and cannot* be called frescos ; and it may be inferred that this 
 mixed art was a result of painting on coats of plaster, necessarily laid thin, 
 as thicker coats would have destroyed the proportions of the building, which 
 were already completed in stone or brick. 
 
 With the revival of classic taste a. decline in constructive skill may be 
 remarked, or, at least, the introduction of a very careless practice, namely, 
 the retaining of the rubble and external ashlar facing, while the internal 
 facing was done away with and plaster was substituted for it. Internal walls 
 were frequently so built as not to be at right angles to each other, sometimes 
 not perpendicular, and in all cases were very uneven on the surface, being 
 generally built of mixed and indifferent materials, the fragments, apparently, 
 of former buildings, such as small stones, broken bricks, and even bits of tile. 
 Many fine works of art are painted upon walls built in this manner, and thus 
 the inequality of their surfaces, which has been so often remarked and 
 accounted for in so many ways, is readily explained. At times the inequality 
 is increased, indeed, by the actual bulging of the intonaco, or last coat of 
 plaster. This, again, is the result of bad workmanship, as in most cases no 
 pains were taken to give the intonaco a key to the mortar beneath. Neither 
 the Germans or Italians score or mark the plaster so as to give the intonaco or 
 upper coat a hold, though the former use a precaution which is more effectual, 
 namely, that of mixing coarse gravel with the first coats. 
 
 We find, then, that pictures were painted on three kinds of wall, — on the 
 ashlar walls of Gothic edifices, on brick walls of buildings of different dates, 
 and upon coarsely-built rubble walls of different kinds. To these are to be 
 added frescos upon lath of which there are many examples in different parts 
 of Italy. 
 
 The paintings upon ashlar walls do not appear to be as durable as those 
 painted upon walls constructed in a different manner ; the intonaco, although 
 remaining fast to the first coat, often separates from the wall, the joints or 
 seams between the stones not being open enough to give a good key to the 
 plaster. In warm weather the moisture condenses on these walls and causes 
 the plaster to fall away in large masses. Another source of injury to the 
 plaster is that when the walls act as buttresses to resist the thrust of the 
 
Fresco Painting. 
 
 Ill 
 
 great transept arches, when the plaster falls off in large masses in the direc- 
 tion of the thrust. Examples of painting on this kind of wall may be seen in 
 the Church of St. Francis at Assisi, the Chapel of the Sacrament at Orvieto, 
 and in the Cathedral of Sinea. 
 
 The pictures of Spinello Aretino in St. Miniato at Florence are specimens 
 of an early date and in perfect preservation ; these are upon brick walls which 
 are evidently dry, and being well built, the surface of the paintings is even ; 
 thus they are not injured by dust settling upon them. This kind of wall 
 appears to be the best for painting, for in nearly every case examined by Mr. 
 Wilson he says, " The pictures upon brick walls were in an excellent state of 
 preservation." The picture by Giotto in the Chapel of the Scrovegni, the 
 paintings in the library of the Cathedral of Siena ; the frescos of the later 
 Florentine masters in the cloisters of several of the convents in Florence, 
 and of a later date the numerous frescos of the Carracci and their scholars, 
 may be instanced as proving the durability of fresco ; all are on brick, and in 
 all the plastering is excellent. To the above may be added the frescoed 
 ceilings at Genoa ; nearly all are on brick vaults, and nearly all in perfect 
 preservation. 
 
 Unfortunately some of the most precious works of the great masters are 
 upon rubble walls, and to this their dilapidated state is in a great measure to 
 be attributed. 
 
 There are instances of such extensive ruin that the cause of the uneven- 
 ness of the frescos is evident, and it is probable that the same effect inva- 
 riably proceeds from the same cause. It is quite out of the question to suppose 
 that the wall behind frescos painted upon solid but uneven surfaces, can be 
 ashlar, nor are they likely to be brick, as examples which are certainly painted 
 upon plaster laid upon brick are quite even on the surface ; and the external 
 facings of brick in walls where these uneven frescos are found, are perfectly 
 even. Neither does the unevenness in every case proceed from the bulging 
 of the intonaco, — which is easily detected by tapping it with the finger, — for 
 frescos may be very uneven on the surface and yet quite solid. In the 
 chapel of Saint Cecilia at Bologna, the frescos by Francia and Costa are 
 unhappily so much injured that the wall can be seen in several places. It is 
 evidently of the coarsest rubble construction, and the frescos are very uneven 
 on the surface. 
 
 The walls of Santa Maria Novello at Florence, and other churches and 
 buildings at Padua, Venice, and other places, have all very uneven surfaces, 
 and all have consequently suffered from the accumulation of dust upon the 
 inequahties, as well as from the cracking and breaking off of the plaster, partly 
 owing to the bad masonry and partly to the careless way in which the mortar 
 was applied. Where such remarkable carelessness as to the quality of the 
 masonry is recognized, instead of being surprised at the present state of the 
 frescos we ought rather to wonder that they are preserved at all. Wherever 
 due attention has been paid to the construction of the walls, the pictures upon 
 them are in an excellent state of preservation, or their dilapidation can be 
 accounted for from external causes which might have been guarded against. 
 
112 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 Vitruvius gives minute directions for the construction of roofs and ceilings, 
 and the composition and manner of plastering ; and Pliny praises the stucco, 
 which consisted of three coats of lime and sand and two coats of lime and 
 marble dust. The lime for these coats of plaster was prepared with the 
 greatest care, and was steeped or slaked in water for a number of years ; it 
 was also mixed with milk, which gave it more consistency, and produced a 
 more mellow white color. 
 
 Alberti, in 1452, describes the same number of coats, and says that the 
 lime is not mature in less than three months ; he had seen lime, and in con- 
 siderable quantity, which had been abandoned, as he had good reason to 
 believe, for more than five hundred years, and yet, when discovered, it was 
 found to be moist and liquid, and, as it were, so ripe that in its consistency it 
 far surpassed honey and marrow. He adds : " If you use it thus, it requires 
 double the quantity of sand." 
 
 Andrea Pozzo (1642-1709) describes a similar method of preparing the 
 wall, and says that the mortar should be laid on by an expert and active 
 mason, in order that the intonaco maybe spread evenly, and that the painter 
 may have sufficient time to paint upon it during the whole of that day. 
 
 Palomino (1663-1726) gives for the proportions of the stucco equal propor- 
 tions of lime and sand, and adds, " But if the lime has been rendered mild 
 by time, the proportions should be three parts of lime to one of sand," — just 
 the opposite of Alberti's recommendations. 
 
 The earliest modern writer whose work has been preserved is Theophilus, 
 a monk, who is supposed to have lived between the 9th and 13th centuries. 
 Other writers on the subject of fresco painting are Cennini, 1437 ; Alberti, 
 1485; Vasari, 1547; Guevara, 1550-1559; Borghini, 1584; Armenini, 1587; 
 Cespedes, 1608; Pacheco, 1641 ; Pozzo, 1 693-1 702 ; Palomino, 1715-1724; 
 Mengs, 1779. Commencing, therefore, with Theophilus, the above series 
 embraces the periods of its commencement, progress, and decline. 
 
 Between the period when Cennini wrote his treatise and the pubhcation of 
 the work of Vasari, the art had advanced rapidly. Leonardo da Vinci, Michel- 
 angelo, Raphael, and Correggio had lived and died. The Sistine Chapel, 
 the Vatican, and the Duomo of Parma had been painted, and the processes of 
 fresco painting had been changed in some important points. 
 
 The practice of indenting the plaster with the point or stylus (see page 20) 
 is very ancient, and we find that the figures painted in Etruscan tombs were 
 outlined in this manner ; that is, the point was used to mark the external 
 outline of the figure only. It was employed by the early masters on the revi- 
 val of art in Italy, precisely in the same way, in outlining their works in dis- 
 temper on panels. Thus Giotto and his followers drew, and we find the same 
 practice followed in the Sienese school, with a singular exception, which is 
 that the figure of the Madonna is entirely marked in with the stylus ; that is, 
 not merely the external outline, but the outline of the folds in the drapery. 
 A notice of this practice, confined to the school of Siena, is useful, as it 
 establishes a clear distinction between the early pictures of that school and 
 those of contemporary Florentine masters. 
 
Fresco Painting, 
 
 113 
 
 It is very remarkable that, whilst the point was used in distemper pictures 
 on panel, it rarely was in those of the same period on walls. It is never 
 found in mural paintings by Cimabue, Giotto, Oro^agna, or Benozzo Gozzoli, 
 but was employed by Fra Angelico, in the architectural backgrounds only of 
 those in the chapel of Nicholas V, in the Vatican. 
 
 Perugino pounced all his outlines, as did his great pupil Raphael ; but his 
 pupils, again, followed each his own fancy in this respect. Raphael did not, 
 however, use the point in his fine works in the Farnesina, and the advantage 
 is obvious : for whilst its convenience makes it very useful in works at a. con- 
 siderable distance from the spectator, it never should be seen in those which 
 are nearer to the eye, especially if the light falls full upon them. 
 
 In studying the art of fresco painting, it is necessary to consult the works 
 of the old masters for examples of execution ; and in these we shall find as 
 much diversity of touch and handling and as many styles as may be observed 
 in the works of the same artists in oil, and at the same time every quality 
 of execution possible in oil painting, although in different degrees. " We 
 have transparency, opacity, richness ; we have thin and thick painting, 
 even to loading, and that to an extent that cannot be contemplated in oil ; 
 we have the calm, transparent painting of the Florentines, the rich variety 
 of the Venetians, and," says Wilson, " there are cases in which the well- 
 nourished brush of Rembrandt seems represented in the works of the fresco 
 painters of old Italian times." 
 
 In preparing the palette for fresco painting, the colors should be put into 
 their proper cups or saucers, with a spoon for each ; the palette should be 
 large enough to mix the tints with the brush without running them into each 
 other, and more color than is required should be put on the palette at once, 
 that the color may not dry too soon. The order to be observed is to put in 
 the background or skies which are behind the figures, gradually approaching 
 from them towards the figures in the foreground. 
 
 The selection of colors for painting in fresco is among the most important 
 parts of the art. All the best authorities are unanimous in the opinion that 
 the natural colors only are proper to be used in fresco painting. But 
 although the natural colors are neither numerous nor brilliant, yet the frescos 
 of Raphael, Michelangelo, and others satisfactorily prove that the colors 
 used by them were amply sufficient for the purposes of fresco painting. 
 
 Some of these colors have fallen into disuse, and the knowledge of their 
 value, application, and use is in a great measure lost. Artificial colors have 
 for a long time been improperly substituted, and failed of their object, — the 
 consequence being that the highest branch of the art of painting, and that 
 from which the greatest masters derived most of their celebrity, has declined 
 and fallen into disuse. 
 
 The old masters, it appears, used a natural color, which, when opposed to 
 other colors, appeared like lake, and although mentioned in terms of praise 
 by many writers on art, is called by different names. Cennini calls it 
 amatito, and describes it as a very hard and fine stone, — so hard that tools 
 are made of it to burnish gold on pictures. He recommends it to be ground 
 
 15 
 
114 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 with clear water, and says the more ground the better, and describes the 
 color as being that which cardinals wear, or a purple or lake color. Another 
 author calls this color cinnabar, others matita. It is now considered that 
 this was hematite, a species of iron ore. 
 
 Spanish authors speak of albin and pavonazzo as substitutes for carmine, 
 and observe that pavonazzo was a degree lower in tone than albin. 
 
 Sinopia is another color mentioned, and is described by Pliny as a natural 
 pigment, which derived its name from a place of the same name. 
 
 Among the blues, we find caeruleum or vestorian azure, — a kind of blue 
 glass, described by Vitruvius and Pliny ; smalto, smaltino, and another blue 
 called " azzurro della magna," which was expensive, and is by some early 
 authors supposed to be cobalt or ultramarine, but later writers speak of it as 
 a different pigment, because cobalt is not so easily obtained, and ultramarine 
 is by some not considered suitable for true fresco. 
 
 The employment of green colors in fresco is less difficult than blues, as 
 green is easily made by a mixture of blue and yellow ; and blues have a ten- 
 dency to become green. The green pigments used in fresco are terra verde, 
 mountain green, and lapis armenus. 
 
 Black colors are among those that are found to be the least durable in 
 fresco, and as the color hardly exists in nature, it should rarely be used. 
 
 The finest white was called Bianca Sangiovanni, and was composed of 
 lime carefully prepared ; another white was calcined travertine. 
 
 Pozzo gives a list of colors which he considers best for fresco, among 
 which he speaks of white made from lime, after being slaked at least for six 
 months. " White from Carrara marble is good, but it is useless to prepare 
 it," he says, " when well-seasoned lime and egg-shells can be obtained. 
 Vermilion is a most lively color, but must be prepared with lime-water." 
 Other authors object to this color. 
 
 Burnt Roman vitriol succeeds well with lime when ground with spirits of 
 wine, and is very useful as a ground for vermilion. When both are used in 
 drapery, they produce a color quite equal to that of lake in oil painting. 
 
 Red ochre, like all the other earths, is most excellent for fresco. Burnt 
 yellow ochre is rather a pale red, and is used for shading yellow draperies. 
 There are two kinds of yellow ochre found at Rome, one light and the other 
 dark. 
 
 Brown umber is good for shades of draperies. It must be used with care, 
 and mixed with white lime, because it always becomes darker and increases 
 in depth. 
 
 Burnt umber is excellent for shades of carnations when mixed with Vene- 
 tian terra vera, or black earth, which is the darkest color of all for fresco 
 painting. 
 
 Charcoal black can be made in various ways, and is good for anything for 
 which black is required, although Roman black earth produces the same 
 effect, and is in very general use. 
 
 Smaltino, or glass blue, should be laid on before the other colors, while 
 the intonaco is still wet, for otherwise it will not incorporate with it. An 
 
Fresco Painting. 
 
 hour after the first coat has been applied, a second coat must be laid on to 
 make the color deeper. The pure color will serve for shades, but charcoal 
 black should be used in the deeper shades. 
 
 All the above-mentioned colors must be mixed with lime-white to produce 
 the light and middle tints. 
 
 Some writers affirm that ultramarine is not good for fresco, but Pozzo con- 
 siders it as good in the true fresco as in the dry, but says it is not used, as it 
 is of such great value. He also says that indigo may be used in summer, 
 but not in winter ; while others say that this color is destroyed by wet Hme. 
 
 In all these colors, particular care should be taken that they are the very 
 best of the kind, — the brightest, purest, and finest that can be obtained, — 
 keeping them clean to preserve their brightness. 
 
 It was the practice of many of the old masters to retouch their frescos 
 when dry, and to lay in preparatory tints totally different from those intended 
 to be used in finishing ; thus, a dark-red color was almost invariably laid in as 
 a preparation for blue, and this practice was generally adhered to until after 
 the time of Raphael. In some cases, it is very easy to detect this retouch- 
 ing, for it will generally be found to be somewhat darker than the painting 
 around. 
 
 On this subject, however, no better advice can probably be given than that 
 given by Borghini, who says, " Therefore, whoever paints in fresco should 
 each day completely finish his day's work without having to retouch it in 
 secco, because his picture will be of longer duration, and he will be con- 
 sidered a better master." 
 
ii6 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 XV. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 All writers are agreed that oil painting, as practised in modern times, was 
 first introduced about the year 1410, and the honor of its invention unques- 
 tionably belongs to the brothers Hubert and John Van Eyck, two Flemish 
 painters, who seem to have lived both at Ghent and at Bruges. John was 
 buried at the latter place, and at the beginning of the 17th century a 
 monument to Hubert was still in existence in the Church of St. John, which 
 is now the cathedral at Ghent. 
 
 The chief honor of its introduction is probably due to Hubert, the elder 
 of the two, but the great, if not superior, merit of the younger brother, and 
 the fact that his works only were known in Italy, have caused the name 
 of John Van Eyck to be most commonly associated with the invention. It 
 was probably rather the excellence of their work than any technical pro- 
 cess which they had discovered, that recommended their method to the 
 world ; and we have to thank them less for inventing a new process, 
 than for showing by their skill what were the capabilities of an art that 
 had waited for centuries for the hand that could apply it. But before we 
 proceed to examine the nature of their discoveries or improvements, let us 
 first glance at the previous history of painting, at least at so much of it as is 
 most nearly connected with our subject. 
 
 The pictures of the ancients were executed either in tempera or in encaus- 
 tic, and were painted (if not upon the walls of buildings) either on ivory or on 
 wood. The processes of tempera painting have been so fully described in 
 the preceding pages that nothing more need be said about them here. The 
 different methods of encaustic painting have been also so clearly described in 
 Mr. Perkins's able and instructive lecture (p. 2^^et seq?) that your attention is 
 called to them for a few moments only to point out the relation between this 
 ancient art and the earliest use of oil, in connection with painting, with which 
 we are acquainted. 
 
 The third method, spoken of by Pliny (see p. 25), brings us to the still 
 open question regarding these wax colors that could be applied with a brush. 
 How were they retained in this liquid state By a fixed oil, such as linseed, 
 nut, or poppy ? By some one of the essential oils, as turpentine ? or by some 
 kind of lye which reduced them to a soapy state, so that they might be diluted 
 with water ? Perhaps all three of these methods were used. The first 
 
Oil Painting. 
 
 117 
 
 two are so intimately connected with our subject as to be deserving of 
 some attention, for much of what we call oil painting is really done either 
 with varnish or with wax, this latter having been much more freely used 
 than is generally supposed. It has been found, by analysis, that the 
 colors of the Egyptian mummy-cloths were mixed with wax, and the art 
 has never been wholly lost sight of: it has been retained for ages in the tra- 
 ditional practices of the monks of Mt. Athos, where it is still practised, and 
 has been revived in different forms in quite modern times and by distinguished 
 painters. Some of Sir Joshua Reynolds's most beautiful pictures, noticeably 
 " The Little Strawberry Girl," so familiar to us through engravings, are 
 painted not in oil but in wax, dissolved in Venice turpentine, as shown by 
 his own note-book. 
 
 Another practice of the ancients, which is still more intimately connected 
 with our subject, was the use of resinous varnishes, which, from a very early 
 period, were applied to their pictures, whether executed in tempera or 
 encaustic ; and it is more than probable that from the use of these varnishes 
 the practice of oil painting was gradually developed. This varnish of the 
 Greeks was composed of gum, mastic, and wax ; but we are still uninformed 
 of the vehicle that must have been used in applying them, for the nature of 
 both is such that some fluid — which may have been either turpentine or oil — 
 must have been used to dissolve and dry them. 
 
 Now, so Tie of tha dryia^j oils, as nut oil and poppy oil, were known to the 
 ancients, as is shown by the works of their writers on medicine ; and as resins, 
 such as sandarac, copal, and gum-mastic, dissolved in drying oils, had, for 
 many centuries before the invention of modern oil painting, been employed 
 to protect pictures, "it is quite conceivable," says Sir Charles Eastlake, 
 " that a practice which was common among the Byzantine artists might have 
 been derived, as many of their processes were, from the technical methods 
 of the best ages of Greece." 
 
 But my object in this inquiry is not to prove the antiquity of any process 
 or art, but to trace the steps by which this art arose ; and I have attached so 
 much importance to this old varnish of the Greeks because it seems to be the 
 prototype of the oleo-resinous varnishes of the Middle Ages, which, being 
 gradually adopted as a vehicle as well as a varnish, have taken so conspicu- 
 ous a place in the history of painting. 
 
 The resinous varnish employed by the early Christian painters was quite 
 dark and quite thick, so that its application produced a decided modification 
 of the painting to which it was applied, and the artist had to paint in very 
 fresh colors, with a view to the mellowing which this strong glazing — for 
 this it really was — would produce. Flesh color, for instance, was painted 
 of a greenish hue, which was neutralized by the dark red of the varnish. 
 This dark color was so far from being thought objectionable that when 
 the painter substituted — as he sometimes did — a varnish prepared with 
 whites of eggs, it was colored in imitation of the dark resinous varnish. 
 
 It is quite probable, therefore, that the painter, seeing how the tint of his 
 varnish affected the hues over which it was placed, would vary that tint so as 
 to heighten the effect of his picture. The next step would be to treat the 
 
Ii8 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 tempera picture still more as a preparation, and to calculate still further on 
 the varnish by modifying and adapting its color to a greater extent. A work 
 so completed must have nearly approached the appearance of an oil picture ; 
 and, fortunately, there is preserved at Villeneuve a picture by King Rene of 
 Anjou, which exhibits just this stage of the art. From this use of transparent 
 colors with the varnish, the step was an easy one to the use of opaque colors 
 as well, these last being applied to the lighter, as the former were to the 
 darker parts of the work. 
 
 I ought, perhaps, to have mentioned before, that while, by these almost 
 imperceptible changes, what was before only a varnish came to be adopted 
 as a vehicle, its dark color became more and more objectionable. Methods 
 for bleaching it had been to a considerable extent successful, and, by increas- 
 ing the proportion of oil which was employed, the objection was in a great 
 measure removed ; but it never has been wholly so even to our own day, the 
 purest oil itself having a decided tendency to turn yellow, to say nothing of 
 the varnish, which is always present in a greater or less degree. 
 
 But though the Flemish school of painting seems thus to have arisen 
 through the use of oil in varnishes, it must not be supposed that this was the 
 beginning of its use in the preparation of colors, though it was undoubtedly 
 the beginning of its successful employment for the purposes of fine art. 
 Methods of bleaching and thickening linseed oil by exposure to the sun, either 
 in a pure state or mixed with certain pigments, such as white lead, to increase 
 its drying properties, had been in use for centuries before the Van Eycks ; 
 and this thickened oil — which was almost identical with the fat oil which is 
 the best material for gilding known to the decorators of our own day — was 
 used either as a varnish, being highly recommended in an old MS. as a 
 useful dressing for pictures, cross-bows, etc., or as a vehicle for color. 
 Painting with this clumsy medium, which seems to have been valued chiefly 
 on account of its glossiness, must have been quite extensively practised in 
 the northern countries of Europe, particularly in England, certainly in the 
 twelfth century, and perhaps long before. But however extensively employed 
 in certain coarse kinds of decoration, it was still entirely unfit for the purposes 
 of fine art ; and although it was sometimes introduced into pictures, it was 
 only partially employed in the purely decorative parts, while the more dehcate 
 work, as the flesh in the figures, had still to be executed in tempera. 
 Although some improvements in its preparation were doubtless introduced, 
 and although Giotto is said to have sometimes painted in oils, there are no 
 certain examples of pictures painted before the fifteenth century in which the 
 flesh is executed in oil colors. 
 
 The principal objection to the use of tempera seems to have been the difficulty 
 of blending the tints on account of the quick drying properties of the vehicle, 
 so that hatching had constantly to be resorted to ; but this difficulty was cer- 
 tainly surmounted by some painters by the use of honey, wax, or some such 
 ingredient, which retarded their drying properties, and allowed the tints to be 
 so blended in such a manner that no appearance of hatching is to be detected 
 in their work. 
 
 But with all its imperfections tempera was still preferable to oil painting 
 
Oil Painting. 
 
 119 
 
 before the improvements of Van Eyck ; and even after these were introduced 
 many of the best Italian masters remained for a long time faithful to their 
 earlier habits. Michelangelo was never converted. Indeed, the very facility 
 with which the colors could be manipulated by employing the new method, 
 seems to have retarded rather than to have hastened its general adoption, by 
 tempting the painter into minuteness of detail, even to a real littleness of man- 
 ner, and to amuse himself with subtile trickeries of color to the neglect of 
 the higher qualities of composition. This objection — which, of course, is 
 chargeable not to the method itself, but to the practice of the Flemish painters 
 through whose work it was first introduced to the Italians — has appeared so 
 important to the minds of the greatest masters that no doubt the history of 
 the grandest things that have ever been done in art is the history of tempera 
 and fresco. Perugino, Leonardo, and John Bellini succeeded in adapting oil 
 painting to large dimensions, and in many cases to a corresponding breadth of 
 manner, and their immediate followers carried the art to perfection. In his 
 beautiful " Lectures on Art," Ruskin thus alludes to the age of these painters 
 and to their successors : " I have ventured," he says, " to call the era of paint- 
 ing represented by John Bellini, the time of the masters. Truly they deserved 
 the name, who did nothing but what was lovely, and taught only what was 
 right ; these mightier who succeeded them crowned, but closed, the dynasties 
 of art, and since their day painting has never flourished more." 
 
 The improvements introduced by the Van Eycks seem to have consisted 
 chiefly in the discovery that oil-varnishes could be used as vehicles thin 
 enough to admit of very delicate manipulation, and still retain the gloss which 
 was prized so highly. 
 
 The student who is curious about the methods of preparing the oils, var- 
 nishes, etc., in use among the painters at this time, may consult with advan- 
 tage the valuable work by Sir Charles Eastlake, which he has called " Mate- 
 rials for a History of Oil Painting " ; but the investigation of these details has 
 seemed to be no part of our present task. Our materials are now selected 
 and prepared for us in a manner which we could not by ourselves hope to 
 excel, each color being ground in the oil best fitted for it, and preserved in a 
 form as neat and convenient as the preparation of the color has been careful 
 and complete. This is also true of varnishes and mediums, and though in the 
 use of them we cannot exercise too much care and discrimination, yet their 
 mechanical preparation is substantially taken out of our hands. 
 
 We come now to an examination of the technical methods which have been 
 employed by the different masters and in diff"erent times. Perhaps the only 
 technical process which has survived without change from remote antiquity is 
 a method of preparing grounds on wood or other surfaces. The layer of chalk 
 and size which is found under the colors upon Egyptian mummy-cases is nearly 
 if not quite the same as that employed by the painters of the Middle Ages, and 
 it has been more or less in use even to the present day. This prepara- 
 tion, the solid ingredient of which may be either chalk or plaster of Paris, 
 finely ground and mixed with water, is fittest for an unyielding surface, as it 
 becomes brittle with age ; and it is to be observed that the early Flemish 
 masters worked almost exclusively on wooden panels in which they were 
 
120 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 followed by Rubens, who preferred, at least in his smaller pictures, panels 
 prepared with smooth and delicate plaster grounds. 
 
 The Venetians, however, seem to have from the first preferred cloth of fine 
 texture, over which this plaster ground was spread as thinly as possible, so 
 as to avoid the danger of its cracking when the picture was rolled. But the 
 use of wooden panels, large or small, must have been very common in Italy as 
 well as in the northern countries. Raphael's Transfiguration was painted on 
 a panel composed of planks three or four inches thick ; and if a picture is 
 thinly painted, as they generally were in the early Flemish school, and even 
 by Rubens, it is much less liable to change if painted on wood than on cloth, 
 as in the latter case it is exposed to the action of the air, damp, and even 
 dust on both sides. 
 
 The ground for these panel pictures was prepared in this way : the wood, 
 which was not to be too smooth, was prepared for the plaster by two or three 
 coats of size ; and by size, I suppose we may understand either the mixture 
 prepared with whites of eggs or any other of the glutinous vehicles employed 
 in tempera painting. Over this the plaster, mixed with a strong size, was 
 applied. When this was quite dry it was scraped until perfectly smooth, and 
 on this delicate ground the drawing was made, whether traced from a cartoon 
 or sketched in charcoal, and afterwards fixed with a brownish ink and shaded 
 like a drawing. It was in just such a manner that pictures in tempera were 
 begun ; and we thus see how easily the two methods might have been com- 
 bined, as they were in such examples of the art of the fourteenth century as 
 have been alluded to before, in which the flesh was painted in tempera and 
 the draperies in oil. Over this drawing a transparent warm tint in oil was 
 spread. I say " in oil," but it must not be forgotten that in the early Flemish 
 practice the medium or vehicle was always more or less oleo-resinous, that 
 is, an oil-varnish. Over this priming, when quite dry, the shadows were 
 painted in with a transparent brown, using the resinous vehicle quite thickly, 
 the half tints being also more or less indicated, so that the work was then 
 tolerably complete as to its light and shade. The lights, though painted in 
 opaque colors, were yet so thinly executed as to preserve the bright ground 
 beneath, so that in the early Flemish works the shadows are uniformly more 
 raised than the lights. Sometimes the light, warm tint which was usually 
 passed over the drawing was omitted, and then the picture may have been 
 executed at once upon the white ground, this being merely covered with a 
 transparent size. 
 
 The habits of the first oil painters were in many circumstances influenced 
 by the practice of tempera, and in both methods it was common to finish the 
 work as they proceeded with it, a part being completed while the rest 
 remained untouched. In this, as in many other respects, the practice of the 
 Flemish painters corresponded to that of the Italians, for they both learned 
 very early that each color, to remain pure and unchanged, must be put into its 
 place at once, and not be disturbed afterwards. This lesson we cannot learn 
 too soon nor follow too closely. 
 
 Although in many of the works of the best painters, as, for instance, the 
 portraits of Vandyke, the colors were worked over one another, and yet the 
 
Oil Painting. 
 
 121 
 
 whole completed at once, we are quite certain that they were able to do this 
 only by using a quick-drying varnish for a vehicle, so that the colors "set," as 
 it is called, almost as soon as they were applied ; and the sharpness, which is so 
 remarkable in well-preserved Venetian pictures, seems to be due to a similar 
 quick-drying vehicle which must have been applied in a decidedly thin state. 
 
 The practice of the Italian painters, as of the later Flemish ones, seems to 
 have differed from the earlier, chiefly in that they learned to load the lights 
 more freely, and to depend less on the bright background for the light in 
 their pictures. It seems to have been reserved for the great Venetians to 
 show that shadow is not absence of color, but, on the contrary, necessary to 
 the full effect of color ; and the great splendor of the Venetian school arises 
 from its painters having seen and held from the beginning this great fact, — 
 that shadow is as much color as light, often much more. It is not enough that 
 shadow shall be transparent ; indeed, according to the common acceptation 
 of the word, it can hardly be said to be desirable except in quite exceptional 
 cases. Ruskin says, "After many years' study of the various results of fresco 
 and oil painting in Italy, and of body and of transparent color in England, I 
 am now entirely convinced that the greatest things that are to be done in art 
 must be done in dead color. The habit of depending on varnish upon lucid 
 tints for transparency, makes the painter comparatively lose sight of the 
 nobler translucence which is obtained by breaking various colors amidst each 
 other. And even when, as by Correggio, exquisite play of hue is joined with 
 exquisite transparency, the delight in the depth almost always leads the 
 painter into mean and false chiaro-oscuro ; it leads him to like dark back- 
 grounds instead of luminous ones, and to enjoy, in general, quality of color 
 more than grandeur of composition, and confined light more than open sun- 
 shine, so that the really greatest thoughts of the greatest men have always, as 
 far as I remember, been reached in dead color, and the noblest oil pictures of 
 Tintoret and Veronese are those which are likest frescos." 
 
 The use of oils in painting, though attended with limitations and imperfec- 
 tions, is yet a favorite method with the painters and the public of our own 
 day ; and certainly for such forms of art as are best suited to the temper of 
 our times, it seems to be eminently fitted, for many and sufficient reasons 
 already explained to us. Noble work in fresco, it is supposed, is quite impos- 
 sible to the age in which we live. Tempera is still used in the decoration of 
 large surfaces to a considerable extent ; but in private edifices, where the 
 work is to be seen comparatively near, and in which, therefore, some dehcacy 
 of execution is desirable, oil is usually preferred. For some landscape sub- 
 jects, and for many methods of study, water-color is for many reasons to be 
 preferred ; its neatness and convenience, and the comparative ease with 
 which certain delicate effects of light and distance can be attained by its use, 
 must constantly recommend it to the sketcher. But for pictures in which 
 truthful representations of texture, such as flesh and draperies, are especially 
 desirable, as well as for rendering the more precious subtleties of color, the 
 excellence of an oil medium seems to be quite undisputed, and it must still 
 be accorded one of the highest places in modern art. 
 i6 
 
122 
 
 Th€ Antefix Papers. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 TECHNICAL TERMS. 
 
 Accessories. Any objects not actually belonging to the main subject of a 
 picture. 
 
 Accident is a special condition or aspect of an object or collection of 
 objects, as distinguished from a general condition or aspect of the same. 
 
 Aerial. A gradual weakening of the tones of colors as they recede from 
 the eye. 
 
 Arrangement is the combination or distribution of the various elements of 
 a picture. 
 
 Bearing out is using color in its full force. In opposition to sinking in. 
 
 Breadth is effect, resulting from the general treatment of a subject, in 
 which details are subordinated by grouping them in masses to produce sim- 
 plicity of effect. 
 
 Cartoons. Designs lipon paper prepared by painters, from which their 
 works are to be executed. 
 
 Cast shadow is that which is produced upon a surface by the interposition 
 of an opaque body between it and the light. 
 
 Chiaro-oscuro. The art of distributing the lights and shadows of an object 
 so as to give it a natural effect. 
 
 Composition includes arranget7tent with invention. 
 
 Contrast is the opposition of different colors and shades of color, to each 
 other. 
 
 Cross hatching is the use of the wet or dry point, as in a line engraving, to 
 make lines which cross each other at regular distances, and cover only a 
 part of the ground. 
 
 Dead coloring is the preparatory painting, cold and pale, to admit of after- 
 glazing, etc. 
 
 Design implies the representation of objects, human figures, or animals, 
 and includes correctness, style, variety, and perspective, outline, measure, 
 and proportion. 
 
 Dragging is the process of drawing a brush charged with thick opaque 
 color heavily and quickly over the painting. 
 
 Finish is perfect expression of detail without sacrificing breadth. 
 Foreshortening is the apparent diminution of the length of an object in 
 
Technical Terms. 
 
 123 
 
 proportion as the direction of its length coincides with the direction of the 
 visual ray. 
 
 Glazing is putting a transparent color over other colors, either to increase 
 or decrease their brightness, without changing their effect of light and shade. 
 
 Handlings when applied to manipulation, means the method of using the 
 means employed for representing objects. The handling of a subject means 
 the treatment of the incident or theme. 
 
 Harmony is the placing of three or more colors in the same proportions as 
 to surface as they exist in white light, or is the effect of a proper arrangement 
 of colors in a picture. 
 
 Hue is the predominance of a primary in a compound. 
 
 Impasting is the loading of opaque color upon the lights. 
 
 Keeping is the proper subserviency of tone and color in every part of a 
 picture. 
 
 Laying in a flat wash is the even covering of a surface by means of a brush 
 fully charged with color diluted in water. 
 
 Light is the illuminated portion of an object giving direct reflection. 
 
 Local color is the color of any part of a picture or group of objects or sub- 
 jects, — the self-color of an object, unchanged by light, shade, distance, or 
 reflection. 
 
 Manner. Habit of handling, coloring, inventing, etc. 
 
 Motive. The subject matter of a single figure or group. 
 
 Oiling out is the preparatory process of spreading a coat of oil upon a 
 surface which will unite with it and receive the upper coat of paint. 
 
 Point. The brush is described as the wet point ; the pencil or crayon as 
 the dry. 
 
 Priming. The laying of a preparatory ground without reference to color. 
 Refiected light is the indirect illumination of shadow. 
 
 Relief in painting is the apparent projection of a shaded representation 
 of an object from a fiat surface. 
 
 Scunibling is the process of passing a thin film of opaque color over other 
 color in a nearly dry condition, so as not completely to cover the color 
 worked over. 
 
 Shade is the partial obstruction of light. 
 
 Shadow is the obstruction of direct light. 
 
 Stippling is the process of using the wet or dry point in a series of 
 touches, strokes, or dots, to obtain evenness of surface, gradation of shade, 
 or intensity of shadow. 
 
 Style implies the way in which materials are used to convey conceptions, 
 and sentiments. Applied to subject as well as to mode of treatment. 
 
 Texture is the imitation of the surface of the object represented. 
 
 Tint is the dilution of a primary by white. 
 
 Tone is the degree of light and shade in some specific part of a picture, — 
 harmony of shading or accord in hue, or the general effect produced by all 
 the colors used. 
 
124 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 STRUCTURAL BOTANY. 
 
 Structural Botany is the study of the form and structure of the organs 
 or parts of a plant by which its functions are performed, and in beginning this 
 study the question arises, How do plants grow ? 
 
 To get a clear idea of the whole structure and growth of plants, let us begin 
 with the seed, and trace from it the life of the plant through successive stages 
 until we reach the seed again. 
 
 If we take a maple seed and lay it open, we can see, without the aid of a 
 microscope, that the little plant already formed consists of a pair of very 
 small leaves borne on a stem, and snugly packed within its protecting walls. 
 Thus we see that the plant exists beforehand in the seed, and that in the 
 process of germination it has only to burst its prison-house, unfold, and grow 
 to push its leaflets upward into light and air, and at the same time to thrust 
 its little stem deeper and deeper into the earth, to form the roots with which 
 it is to draw its nourishment from the soil. 
 
 The little leaves of the seed have between them a minute bud of undevel- 
 oped leaves called the plumule. In some plants this does not appear for 
 several days after the seed-leaves ; in others it makes its appearance very 
 soon as a pair of minute leaves raised on a stalk which carries them above 
 the seed-leaves. Later, a third pair of leaves proceeding from the summit of 
 the second is formed, and raised on a third joint of the stem, and so on until 
 the plantlet becomes a tree. All this time the root is growing, but in a differ- 
 ent manner ; for while the stem is growing by joints, the root grows contin- 
 uously from the bottom without joints. 
 
 Both root and stem generally branch, the root without any particular order, 
 while the stem gives out regularly disposed branches which in their undevel- 
 oped state are called buds. These appear in the axils or angles formed by 
 the leaf and stem on the upper side, and develop into branches in the same 
 way that the plumule did from the embryo. 
 
 Herbs and trees grow in the same way, the difference is only in size and 
 duration. The herb after ripening its seed, or at the approach of winter, dies 
 altogether, or down to the ground, and is called an annual, biennial, or peren- 
 nial herb, as it ripens its seed the first or second year, or as it lives and 
 blossoms year after year, throwing out shoots from buds that survive. 
 
Strticiural Botany, 
 
 125 
 
 A shrub is a perennial plant, with woody stem, which continues alive and 
 grows year after year. 
 
 A tree differs from a shrub only in greater size. 
 
 Buds are terminal or axillary, according as they grow on the end of a 
 branch or in the axils of the leaves. They are scaly or naked, the first being 
 covered with scales, a kind of imperfect leaves to protect the parts underneath 
 from injury, common to trees and shrubs in northern climates. Naked buds 
 are usual in tropical climates as well as in herbs everywhere which branch 
 during the summer, but cannot bear the winter. 
 
 Other names given to buds are accessory or supernumerary, adventitious 
 that is out of the axils and without order and latent, when they survive long 
 without growing. 
 
 Leaf-buds or flower-buds are so called because they contain leaves or 
 flowers. 
 
 The arrangement of branches is the same as that of axillary buds and 
 leaves, that is, opposite, when two leaves are borne on the same joint of the 
 stem, or alternate, when there is only one from each joint. 
 
 Only one leaf is ever produced from the same joint. When two are borne 
 on the same joint they are on opposite sides of the stem, that is, they are 
 separated by half a circumference ; when in whorls of three, four, or five, or any 
 other number, they are equally distributed around the stem so that they have 
 the greatest possible divergence from each other. 
 
 This arrangement of leaves around a branch is expressed by fractions, 
 which denote the divergence of the. successive leaves, /. e. the angle they form 
 with each other ; the numerator expresses the number of turns made around 
 the stem in completing one cycle or set of leaves, and the denominator gives 
 the number of leaves in each circle as ^, \, |, f, in which the fourteenth 
 leaf is over the first, after five turns around the stem the numerator and 
 denominator of each fraction being those of the two next preceding ones added 
 together. At this rate the next higher should be then i|, and in fact just 
 such cases are met with and commonly no others. The shapes of the leaves 
 also should be attended to, and will be alluded to further on. 
 
 Inflorescence is governed by the same law as the arrangement of the leaves, 
 for flowers are buds developed in a particular way, and flower-buds occupy 
 the position of leaf-buds and no other ; and as leaf-buds are either terminal or 
 axillary, so likewise are flowers. But while the same plant commonly pro- 
 duces both kinds of leaf-buds it rarely bears flowers in both situations ; they 
 are either all axillary or all terminal, the different names of indeterminate 
 inflorescence being given further on. 
 
 The object of the fiower is to form the fruit. The essential part of the 
 fruit is the seed^ which brings us back to our starting-point. 
 
 In going over the ground in detail we find that plants have three Organs 
 OF Vegetation, — Root, Stein, Leaves. 
 
 Three Organs of Reproduction, — Flowers, Fruit, Seeds. 
 
 The flower has two Essential Organs, — Stajnens, Pistils, Two Protect- 
 ing Organs^ — Calyx, Corolla.. 
 
126 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 The Organs of Vegetation are all a plant needs for its growth. They are, 
 therefore, the Fundamental Organs of plants. 
 
 The Root is the basis of the plant, and the principal source of its nour- 
 ishment. The tendency of its growth is downward, and it is usually im- 
 bedded in the soil. 
 
 The Stem grows upwards, and bears leaves and blossoms. 
 
 The Leaves make the foliage of the plant. They are generally flat, thin, 
 green bodies, turning one surface upwards. 
 
 The Organs of Reproduction enable the plant to give rise to new individ- 
 uals, to reproduce and perpetuate the species. 
 
 A complete flower consists of the Essential Organs, — Stamens^ Pistils, — 
 surrounded by the Protecting Organs, called the floral envelopes, which con- 
 sist of two circles, one above or within the other. These, taken together, are 
 sometimes called the Perianth. The lower or outer circle is known as the 
 Calyx, or flower-cup, and is the outer covering of the blossom, usually green 
 and leaf-like. Its several parts are called Sepals. 
 
 The Corolla is the inner cup or inner circle of leaves of the flower. Its 
 parts are called Petals, 
 
 The Essential Organs also occupy two circles, or rows, one within the 
 other. Those in the outer row, next the petals, are called Stamens, and 
 those of the inner row are called Pistils. 
 
 A Stamen consists of a stalk called the Filai7tent, which bears upon its 
 apex the essential part of the stamen called the anther, a rounded, hollow 
 body filled with a powdery matter called Pollen. 
 
 A PiSTiiy has three parts, — an Ovary, a Style, a Stigma. The Ovary 
 contains the Ovules or bodies destined to become seeds. The Style is a 
 prolongation of the ovary, and bears the Stigma. ' This stigma is, in reality, 
 a portion of the surface of the style, at the apex, denuded of the epidermis, 
 or skin. Some of the pollen from the anthers falls upon this naked, moist 
 part ; the ovules contained in the ovaries are fertilized and become seeds. 
 
 The Fruit is the ripened ovary, which becomes the Seed-vessel (or Peri- 
 carp). A Seed is a fertihzed and matured ovule. It consists of a Nucleus 
 or Kernel, usually enclosed in two integuments or seed-coats. Besides the 
 true seed-coats, there is sometimes an outer loose covering, arising from the 
 expansion of the apex of the Seed-stalk or funiculus, called an Aril. Mace 
 is the aril of the nutmeg. When the seed is detached from the funiculus 
 there is left upon it a little scar called Hilum, 
 
 The Nucleus or Kernel is the whole body of the seed within the coats. 
 It consists of the Albumen, when this substance is present, and the Embryo. 
 Where there is no albumen the whole kernel consists of the embryo. 
 
 The Albumen is a store of nutritive matter, in a very condensed form, 
 accumulated about the embryo for the purpose of nourishing it until it is 
 strong enough to obtain and assimilate food for itself 
 
 The Embryo is the plant in miniature. AH other parts of flower, fruit, and 
 geed are subservient to its production, protection, and support. It possesses, 
 in an undeveloped state, all the essential organs of vegetation, — a root, a 
 
Structural Botany. 
 
 127 
 
 stem, and leaves. In many cases these several parts may be distinguished 
 in the seed. It consists of one or more Cotyledons or Seed-leaves, a bud 
 called the Plumule, and a Radicle, an original stem which gives rise to 
 the root. 
 
 When an embryo has but one cotyledon it is said to be Mo?iocotyledo?ious, 
 Dicotyledonous when it has a pair of cotyledons, Polycotyledonous when it 
 has more than one pair. 
 
 Plants are divided into two Classes, — Cryptogamous, or Flowerless Platitsj 
 Phcenogamous, or Flowering Plants. 
 
 The Cryptogamous Plants are such as are produced by spores in place 
 of seeds. Spores are single, specialized cells, which originate in some of the 
 ordinary modes of cell production and without the agency of proper flowers. 
 Most plants of this class, however, have organs analogous to those of the 
 flower, at least in function. Ferns, mosses, and seaweeds are of this class. 
 
 The PHiENOGAMOUS Plants are divided into two Classes, — Gymnosper- 
 mous (naked-seeded) Plants, and A ngiospermous (covered-seeded) Plants. 
 In the former class the flowers are of such extreme simplicity that they con- 
 sist, some of a stamen only, others of one or more naked ovules, borne on 
 the margin of an evident leaf, as in Cycas, or on the base or inside of an 
 altered, scale-like leaf, as in the Pine family. In the latter class the flowers 
 of the simplest kind, consist, one sort, of a stamen only, the other of a 
 pistil only ; but as we rise in the scale these organs multiply, both are found 
 in the same flower, both are protected or adorned with the calyx and corolla, 
 and thus we have the completed flower, exhibiting the Organs of Reproductio7t 
 in their perfect form. 
 
 In Phaenogamous plants the Organs of Vegetation also exhibit their perfect 
 development. Root, stem, and leaves are well defined. 
 
 In all Cryptogamous Plants furnished with a distinct axis, or stem and 
 leaves, the whole structure is formed after germination, and when formed the 
 axis grows from the apex only, having no primary root. Pha;nogamous 
 Plants, on the contrary, are developed directly from an embryo plantlet, — 
 from an axis and its appendages, which exists in the seed, and which grows 
 both ways in germination, — from one end to produce the root, from the 
 other the stem. 
 
 The Radicle is the rudimentary axis. The Cotyledons are the undeveloped 
 first pair of leaves. The leaves rise into light and air, the root turns down- 
 ward into the soil. These tendencies are absolute. 
 
 We may say, then, that the axis, especially in plants of the highest grade, 
 is composed of a Descending Axis or Root, and an Ascendins^ Axis or Ste?n. 
 The place where the two unite is called the crown, neck, or collar. Both 
 root and stem branch, and^the branches obey the laws of the axis from which 
 they spring. 
 
 We will consider, in succession, the Organs of Vegetation, beginning with 
 the simplest of these organs, 
 
128 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 THE ROOT. 
 
 The office of the root is to provide the nourishment required by the plant 
 for its growth. Most roots grow in the earth ; some grow in water, as those 
 of the Duck-weed ; some hang in the air, and some grow into the substance 
 of other living plants. 
 
 The root formed from the embryo as it grows from the seed is called the 
 Primary or True root. All other roots are adventitious. 
 
 Annual roots are those of a plant which springs from the seed, flowers 
 and dies in the same year or season. Such plants have fibrous roots, com- 
 posed of slender fibres or rootlets proceeding laterally from the main or tap- 
 root, as in the mustard, or else the whole root divides at once into such 
 fibrous branches as in all annual grasses. 
 
 Bie7inial roots are those of plants which do not blossom until the second 
 season, and then perish like annuals. In these the cells of the roots become 
 filled with starch, vegetable jelly, sugar, etc. Such roots are said to be 
 Jleshy, and receive names according to their forms. 
 
 The root, when of one main body tapering downwards to a point, as that 
 of a carrot, is a tap-root, and when stout, tapering gradually from the base 
 to the apex, is conical, as that of a parsnip or beet. When thicker in the mid- 
 dle, tapering upwards as well as downwards, like a radish, it is fusiform or 
 spindle-shaped ; napiforin or turnip-shaped when it is broader than it is long, 
 or has a suddenly-tapering tip ; fasciculated or clustered when some of the 
 branches are thickened, instead of the main axis ; tuberous or tuberiferous 
 when the branches assume the form of rounded knobs ; fibro-tuberous when 
 some of the adventitious roots are enlarged, others not ; palmate when the 
 knobs are branched. 
 
 These must not not be confounded with tubers, such as potatoes, which 
 are forms of stems. 
 
 Perennial roots belong to a third class of herbs and to all woody plants 
 which annually produce new roots and form new accumulations, some of 
 which perish each year, whije the individual plant survives indefinitely. 
 
 Secondary roots, also called advefttitious roots, spring from any part of a 
 growing stem that lies on the ground. 
 
 Aerial roots are such as strike from the stem into the air, some of which 
 may reach the ground and help to nourish the plant. 
 
 Aerial rootlets serve in most cases as mechanical supports to the climbing 
 vine to which they belong, the plant receiving nourishment from its ordinary 
 roots embedded in the soil. 
 
 Epiphytes, or air plaitts, have roots which never connect with the soil, but 
 find nourishment in the air. 
 
 Parasitic plants strike their roots into the bark pr wood of the species on 
 which they grow, and feed upon the sap. 
 
 THE STEM 
 
 Is the ascending axis which in the embryo grows into the light in a 
 direction opposite to that of the root. It does not uniformly retain the 
 
Structural Botany, 
 
 129 
 
 ascending direction taken at the commencement of its growth. It sometimes 
 trails along the ground or burrows beneath it. Stems are commonly known 
 from roots by the buds which they produce. The production of leaves is 
 characteristic of the stem. 
 
 These are formed only at certain definite and symmetrically arranged points 
 called nodes^ literally knots, so called because here the tissues are interlaced 
 or interrupted. This is conspicuously seen in a stalk of Indian corn or any 
 grass ; each node forms a distinct ring, the leaf arising from the whole cir- 
 cumference of the stem at that place. The portions between the nodes are 
 called internodes, and a leading peculiarity of the stem is that it is formed 
 by a succession of similar parts developed one above another. 
 
 There are two conditions which constitute the important differences between 
 stems, namely, stems with the internodes developed, as in peas, beans, etc., 
 and stems with the internodes not perceptibly developed, as in the houseleek. 
 
 The apex of every stem capable of further terminal growth is crowned 
 with a bud; braftches spring from lateral or axillary buds. These are new, 
 undeveloped axes, which usually appear one in the axil of each l^af. The 
 branches growing from these are in turn provided with buds, and so on 
 indefinitely. The latest twigs are termed branchlets. 
 
 If the buds are regularly produced, the branches will be opposite when the 
 leaves are opposite, and they will be alteniate or scattered and irregular 
 according to the arrangement of the leaves and the development of the buds. 
 
 In shrubs and trees, therefore, the general form is dependent on the growth 
 of the bud and the position of the leaves. 
 
 Adventitious buds are those which originate in the parenchyma or the 
 membranous cellular tissue, some cells of which take an independent 
 development. 
 
 Accessory buds are multiplications of the regular axillary bud. 
 
 The habit of a stem results from the condition of the texture of its parts. 
 It may be herbaceous, that is, soft, green, and tolerably firm, as in most 
 annuals, and then either erect, procumbent, trailing, prostrate, running, 
 creeping, decumbent, climbing^ twining. 
 
 Herbaceous stems may be succulent, as in the stone-crop, or fistular, as in 
 grasses. 
 
 Stems with undeveloped internodes are called acaulescent or stejnless. In 
 these the stem is very short, or concealed in the ground. 
 P\W. phcenogamous plants have stems. 
 The following are the chief forms of stems : — 
 Annual stein. 
 
 Erect peremiial stem (when large, called a trunk). 
 
 Rhizome or root-stock; a horizontal, subterraneous, perennial stem, on 
 which the flowering stems, annually developed, die down each year. 
 
 Stolon; a form of branch which curves to the ground, strikes root, then 
 forms an ascending stem. Currant bushes spread by stolons. Stlch plants 
 are said to be stoloniferous. 
 17 
 
130 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Runner; a slender branch sent from the base of the parent stem, which 
 strikes root at its apex, and produces an independent plant ; ex. strawberry. 
 Such branches are termed flagellifor77t. 
 
 Slicker J a branch which springs under ground, roots, and sends up an 
 independent stem ; ex. rose. Said to be s2irc2ilose. 
 
 Offset; a short, prostrate branch, with a tuft of leaves at the end, which 
 takes root ; ex. houseleek. 
 
 Cuhjt; the name given to the peculiar jointed stem of grasses and sedges. 
 
 Caudex; any persistent erect or ascending rootlike form of main stems ; 
 ex. palm. 
 
 Peduncle; Xh.Q stalk of a solitary flower. 
 Pedicel; the name applied to a subdivision of the peduncle. 
 All the internodes between calyx and pistil constitute the receptacle or 
 thalamus. 
 
 A stem is said to be excui'rent when the primary axis is prolonged without 
 interruption ; diliqtiescent when the main stem is arrested and lost in the 
 branchesi> 
 
 A Tuber is a root-stock thickened at the end. 
 
 A Cor7n or solid bulb is a rounded tuber. 
 
 A Bulb is a scaly or coated and usually subterranean bud. 
 
 Stems are divided into two great Classes, — Exogenous [otctside growing).. 
 Endogenous {inside groming). The Exogenous Class is by far the greater 
 in every part of the world. 
 
 THE LEAF 
 
 Is the organ in which, under the agency of sunlight, the sap, taken in by the 
 root, conveyed by the stem, is digested and converted into proper nourish- 
 ment for the plant. It is made up, like the stem, of a cellular portion and 
 the skeleton or framework which gives it form and strength, 
 
 A skin or epidermis invests the leaf, as it does the whole vegetable. This 
 skin has thousands of little mouths, called stomaies or breathing-pores. These 
 open into air-chambers, and afford a free communication between the exter- 
 nal air and the interior of the leaf. 
 
 Leaves usually expand horizontally. The development proceeds from the 
 apex towards the base. A leaf with all its parts complete consists of the 
 blade or laniina, with its petiole or leaf -stalky and a pair of stipules at its 
 base. Many leaves have no leaf-stalk ; they are then said to- be sessile. 
 The lower part of the petiole is usually enlarged so as to embrace the stem. 
 This part is called the sheathing portion. 
 
 In 7nonocotyledo7is, especially grasses, the sheathing part of the leaf is usu- 
 ally well developed, and the petiole consists of a sheath embracing the stem. 
 This, in true grasses, has at its summit a membranous appendage called a ligule. 
 
 In dicotyledo7is the sheathing part is not much developed, but is often 
 thickened,^and appHed upon a slight swelling of the stem called the pulvi7tus 
 or cushion. When the leaf falls, it usually leaves a scar called a cicatrix. 
 A leaf separating in this way is said to be articulated or jointed to the stem. 
 Leaves which do not fall in this way wither on the stem. 
 
Structural Botany. 
 
 131 
 
 When the stipules are blended with the petiole, as in the rose, they are 
 called adnate stipules. Sometimes, as in the pea, they are free^ standing on 
 each side, like little leaves. 
 
 When stipules exist where leaves are opposite, there is either a pair on 
 each side between the leaves, or each pair is blended into one, and are termed 
 interpetiolar. Stipules are intrafoHaceoiis when, as in the plane, they are 
 pushed back to the side of the stem opposite to the leaf, and are blended 
 into one leaf-like body. 
 
 Leaves are arranged in various ways upon the stalk. They are scatterea 
 or irregidar^ as in the potato ; alternate^ one above the other on opposite 
 sides, as the pea ; opposite, two on the same node at opposite sides of the 
 stem, as the- lilac ; whorled or vertkillate, more than two on each node, 
 forming a circle, as meadow lily ; fasciculated or tufted^ when the leaves 
 grow in tufts, as pines ; iuibricated, when the leaves overlap one another. 
 When this happens at the base of the stem, as in the houseleek, the lower 
 leaves are said to be rosulate. Secund, when the leaves on one side of a 
 branch curve so that their points turn in the same direction as those on the 
 opposite side ; distichous, when arranged in two ranks, as the yew ; tristi- 
 chous, when arranged in three ranks. 
 
 The mode of attachment to the stem exhibits many varieties. The point 
 of attachment is termed its insertion. We have sheathing leaves, — grasses ; 
 stalked leaves, — lilac; sessile leaves, v^hen there is no perceptible petiole. 
 Sessile leaves are called clasping or amplexicaul, when they embrace the 
 stem with their bases. When the stem has the appearance of passing through 
 the leaf, the leaf is called perfoliate. When two opposite leaves grow together, 
 they are connate. Occasionally the bases of the sessile leaves are prolonged 
 into leaf-like wings, and are called decurreiit. 
 
 The two Great Classes of Flowering Plants may be distinguished generally 
 by the venation of the leaves. Parallel-veined leaves are characteristic ot 
 endogenous plants, while Reticulated or Netted-hjeined leaves are almost uni- 
 versal in Exoge7ious plants. 
 
 Parallel-veined are of two kinds : i. Those with veins all running 
 from the base to the apex of the leaf ; and those where they run from the 
 midrib to the margin. 
 
 Netted-veined are likewise divided into Feather-veined and Radiate- 
 veined. 
 
 A fibre running up the middle of the blade, giving off branches from each 
 side, is called a Midrib. 
 
 When there is one principal midrib, with side branches, the leaf is penni- 
 veined. When the ribs spread out like a fan, it is pahni-veined. 
 
 Leaves are Simple or Compound. 
 
 When the subdivisions of the blade are all distinctly connected, it is a 
 siniple leaf. When they are entirely separate it is a compound leaf. 
 
 These separate parts are called Leaflets. In a few cases they have stipules 
 of their own, which are called stipells. 
 
 In many plants Spijies and Tendrils are produced in the place of leaves or 
 
132 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 parts of leaves. In the Cucumber one of the stipules is transformed into a 
 tendril. In the Pea the midrib of the last leaflet is a tendril. 
 
 Leaves are Linear, — narrow, much longer than broad, and about the same 
 width throughout ; Lance-shaped or Lanceolate^ — narrow, longer than wide, 
 tapering ; Oval, Ovate, — egg-shaped, broader at the base ; Obovate, — 
 egg-shaped, broader at the apex ; Orbicular or Rotmd ; Spathulate j Cuneate 
 or Wedge-shaped ; Ensiforin, — shape of a sword-blade. 
 
 With regard to the shape at the base. Heart-shaped or Cordate ; Kidney- 
 shaped ox Re?iiforin; Auricled or Eared, — having a lobe on each side of 
 the base. Sagittate or Arrow-headed j Hastate or Halberd-shaped j Peltate 
 or Shield-shaped. 
 
 As to the apex, we have the following terms. The first six apply to the 
 base as well : — 
 
 Pointed, Taper-pointed, ox Acuminate j Actite j Obtuse; Truncate; Retuse ; 
 Emarginate or Notched; Obcordate, or inversely heart-shaped ; Cuspidate ; 
 Awned or Aristate, when furnished with a beard. Mucronate, abruptly ter- 
 minated by a hand-shaped point. 
 
 The margins of leaves are either Entire, — without teeth ; or Divided, — 
 toothed. They are Dentate, — teeth pointing outward ; Crenate, — teeth 
 rounded and broad ; Serrate.^ — teeth like a saw. Bidentate, — large teeth 
 which are again toothed ; Wavy {Repand or Undulate) Sinnate, — strongly 
 wavy or sinuous ; l7tcised or Jagged, — teeth deep and irregular. Lobed or 
 Cleft, — blade cut up into parts. 
 
 Compound leaves are either Pinnate, Parnate, or Digitate. 
 
 Pinnate leaves have their leaflets arranged along the sides of the main 
 foot-stalk. 
 
 Palmate or Digitate bear their leaflets all at the very end of the foot-stalk. 
 
 Twice and thrice compound leaves are not uncommon. 
 
 When a leaf is divided three or four times it is said to be decompounded. 
 
 THE FLOWER. 
 
 Inflorescence is the mode of flowering, or the situation and arrangement 
 of the flowers on the plant, and is governed by the same law that governs the 
 arrangement of the leaves, that is, as we have the terminal bud and the axil- 
 lary bud, we also have Terminal Inflorescence and Axillary Inflorescence. 
 
 The main stalk of an inflorescence is called the Peduncle. It may be sim- 
 ple, bearing one solitary flower ; or branched, bearing many flowers. The term 
 Pedicel is given to the stalk of the individual flower, in this case. When the 
 peduncle arises from an underground rhizome, as in the Daisy, it is called a 
 scape. The extremity of the peduncle is called the receptacle. 
 
 The leaves of a flower-cluster take the name of Bracts. A circle of bracts, 
 forming around the lower ends of the pedicels, is called Involucre. These 
 exhibit the same kind of arrangement as true leaves. Smaller bracts appear- 
 ing on the pedicels are called Bractlets. 
 
 Inflorescence is Centripetal (indefinite) as the Mignonette ; or Centrifugal 
 (definite), as the Geranium. 
 
Structural Botany, 
 
 133 
 
 The Solitary Flower is a single peduncle bearing one flower. There are 
 different kinds of flower-clusters. Of those which bear their flowers on the 
 sides of the main stalk, in the axils of leaves or bracts, the principal kinds are 
 the Raceme, the Corymb, the Umbel, the Head, the Spike, the Paiiicle. 
 
 A Raceme is a cluster with blossoms arranged along the flower-stem, ex. 
 Lily of the Valley. 
 
 A Corymb is a flat-topped or convex cluster, like that of Hawthorn. 
 
 An Umbel is a cluster in which the pedicles all spring from the same level, 
 ex. Milk-weed. 
 
 A Head is a peduncle, which, instead of branching, bears a great number 
 of little sessil flowers, as the Red Clover. 
 
 A Spike is a lengthened flower-cluster with no perceptible pedicels to the 
 flowers. The common Mullein is a good example. A Panicle is an irregu- 
 larly branching, compound flower-cluster. A Catkin is a spike with scaly 
 bracts, ex. Willow. A Spadix is a spike with small flowers on a thick and 
 fleshy axis, ex. Sweet flag. A Cyme is the general term applied to all 
 forms of inflorescence in which the terminal bud opens first. A Fascicle is 
 a close or very much crowded cyme. 
 
 FORMS AND KINDS OF FLOWERS. 
 
 A flower answers to a branch ; the parts of the flower answer to the leaves. 
 The outer circle, the sepals, is sufficiently like a circle of bracts. In the 
 second circle the petals are like leaves in form, and veining, and in their division 
 into blade or limb, and claw, which correspond to blade and stalk in a leaf. 
 The third circle — the stamens — again bears a distant resemblance to leaves, 
 and the organs of the fourth circle usually return to the leafy appearance in 
 color. The carpels (a circle of pistils, or pistils blended into one large pistil) 
 are undoubtedly forms of the leaf 
 
 A complete flower is always a perfect flower. A perfect flower is not 
 necessarily a complete flower. A perfect Jlozver has both stamens and 
 pistils : an incomplete flower wants one, at least, of the four kinds of organs. 
 It may be Apetalous, that is, having no petals ; naked, or Achlamydeoiis, 
 having neither calyx nor corolla. 
 
 Plants bearing imperfect flowers have two kinds of blossoms, — staminate^ 
 or sterile, and pistillate, or fertile. Flowers are syinmetrical^ having an 
 equal number of parts in each circle ; unsymmetrical^ number of parts in 
 each circle unequal ; regular., all the organs alike in form and size. Irregu- 
 lar, coherent, and adherent. The number of organs in each circle in Dicoty- 
 ledons is five, sometimes four ; in Monocotyledons, three. 
 
 The Calyx is said to be toothed, cleft, parted, lobed. The united portion is 
 called its tube. The distinct portions of the sepals are termed teeth, seg- 
 ments, or lobes, according to their length as compared with the tube. The 
 orifice of the tube is named the throat. The terms regular and irregular 
 are applied to the calyx and corolla, as well as to the whole flower. 
 
 The Corolla is said to be monopetalous or gamopetalous, dipetalous, 
 tripetalous, polypetalous, etc., when it is composed of united petals, or two 
 
134 
 
 The Ante fix Papers. 
 
 or many separate petals. The polypetalous corolla^ when regular, may be 
 cruciate, rosaceous, caryophyllaceous, liliaceous. Among the irregular poly- 
 petalous corollas we have the papilionaceous or butterfly-shaped corolla, as 
 in the pea tribe. Sta^nens are mojiadelphoiis , diadelphous, triadelphous^ 
 polyadelphous, when their filaments are united into one, two, or more sets. 
 Stamens, when attached to the corolla, are epipetalous. Pistils are sifnple or 
 co77tpound. The partitions which divide the compound ovary into cells are 
 evidently composed of the united contiguous portions of the walls of the 
 carpels. They are called Dissepiments. A single carpel has no proper 
 dissepiment. Ovules are, according to their position, erect.^ pendulous, 
 ascending, and suspended. The ripened ovary, with its contents, becomes 
 the FRUIT. Simple fruits may be classified into fleshy fruits, stone fruits, 
 and dry fruits. Fleshy fruits are the berry, the pepo, the pome. Stone 
 fruits are plums, cherries, and peaches. Fleshy fruits and stone fruits are 
 indehiscent ; that is, they do not split open when ripe, to discharge their 
 seeds ; while dry fruits are dehiscent, taking the general name of pods ; or 
 they are indehiscent, of which the principal kinds are the achenium or akene, 
 the grain and the nut. 
 
Botany as Applied to Industrial Art. 
 
 135 
 
 XVIIl. 
 
 BOTANY AS APPLIED TO INDUSTRIAL ART. 
 
 You have had already a comprehensive essay on Structural Botany. I 
 shall proceed to give you a few notes on Botany as connected with art and 
 general utility, after offering some slight observations on structure, — not 
 always to be much dwelt on, but well worthy to be remembered in taking up 
 the subject, whether with reference to the one or the other. 
 
 The nature and kind of plant maybe at first determined by its vernation, 
 or packing in the bud ; its class by its being monocotyledonous or dicotyle- 
 donous, that is, possessing one or two cotyledons. Here we may observe 
 of monocotyledons that they are central growers or endogens ; their leaves 
 clasp the stem ; they are parallel-veined ; and the parts of their flowers are 
 always in threes, never in fives ; their roots also are adventitious. Dicot- 
 yledons are outside growers or exogens, and form a new ring of wood every 
 year outside of the last year's growth. Exogens also have their leaves artic- 
 ulated to the branch and reticulated in the veining ; their flowers are mostly 
 in parts of five or four. 
 
 These are important distinctions, and at once point to the great class to 
 which any individual plant belongs. The form of the plant depends much 
 upon the development or non-development of the internodes, or spaces be- 
 tween the nodes, as also on whether its buds are axillary or terminal. We 
 see rosette-like plants, as the houseleek, with imbricated leaves crowding 
 one another, and find the internodes between the leaves and branches 
 are undeveloped. The pine family presents the curiou^ fasciculated arrange- 
 ment, the small bunches of needle-like leaves being undeveloped branches. 
 Were the internodes developed, we should have the usual pine branch, with 
 the leaves ranged oppositely or alternately. The root of the plant may be a 
 prolongation, of the radicle or true root, or it may be adventitious, where the 
 true root is suppressed, and surrounding rootlets supply its place. The 
 growing point in roots is always just behind the spongiole, which is a minute, 
 sponge-like body, without covering, situated on the end of the rootlet, — 
 just as the growing point in the trunk is in the cambium layer, immediately 
 behind the bark. 
 
 The root, stem, and leaves are all that distinguish a plant, as flowers are 
 but altered branches. We see this exemplified in the monstrous flowers 
 
136 
 
 The Antefix Papefs, 
 
 cultivated by gardeners, where the parts of the flower are transformed into 
 leaves. A flower is called symmetrical, if its parts are similar and its num- 
 bers the same, or multiplications of a given number ; bisymmetrical when it 
 can only be twice divided, as in the violet. 
 
 Speaking of the anther, it may be sessile, adnate, or versatile. It may 
 open in four distinct ways : by a slit along the top, as in the mallow family ; 
 by two pores, as in the azalea and some heaths ; sometimes a part of the 
 face separates as a trap-door, hinged at the top, opening to discharge the 
 pollen, as in the barberry ; sometimes one half of the anther is obliterated, 
 as in the globe amaranth of the garden. The pollen is very different in dif- 
 ferent plants, so that a plant may be recognized by its pollen alone. There 
 are four kinds of ovules, distinguished by the position in which the hilum 
 and the orifice are situated with regard to each other. When a plantlet is 
 developed in the ovule, it becomes a seed. Plants will support themselves 
 by twining, as the morning glory ; by prickles, as goosegrass ; by small 
 suckers, as the dodder ; by short roots, as the ivy ; and by tendrils, as the 
 pea. 
 
 The works of botanists contain minute descriptions of more than 80,000 
 distinct kinds of plants, each member of this assemblage having a name 
 assigned to it, and a character by which it may be distinguished from every 
 other known vegetable. The name is composed of two Latin words, — one 
 significant of its genus, or relationship with plants very like it, the other 
 expressive of some feature peculiar to itself. Out of this simple method a 
 scientific language has arisen, comprehended by botanists throughout the 
 world. Thus, when we write of the Quercus Alba, botanists in all nations 
 understand by the generic word Quercus a plant presenting an assemblage 
 of characteristic organizations such as are common to all oaks, and are com- 
 bined in oaks only; and by the scientific epithet Alba they understand that 
 particular oak to which we give familiarly the name of white oak, and that oak 
 only. 
 
 The people of all countries and climates, from the first appearance of the 
 human race, have applied their vegetable productions to use. The spread- 
 ing tree and its leaves seemed symbolical of shelter and clothing, whilst its 
 fruit suggested the most natural of foods. However far our historical 
 researches may lead* us, we can discover no trace of an epoch when the 
 textile and coloring uses of plants were unknown and unapplied. We find 
 everywhere erections of timber, and fabrics woven of vegetable fibre. At all 
 times we see the evidence that it is man's nature to subdue the vegetable 
 kingdom to his service. 
 
 The botanical domain is eminently suggestive of tasteful ornament. The 
 graceful curves and elegant shapes of foliage, the droop of a peduncle, the 
 symmetry and harmonious coloring of a flower, — all sow the seeds of taste 
 wherever there is intelligence to warm them into germination. The savage 
 decorates his canoe with imperfect images of the wild flowers that star the 
 thicket around his hut ; he stains his body in patterns with the bright- 
 colored juices of the herbs that cluster about his doorway ; out of the crimson 
 
Botany as Applied to Industrial Art. 
 
 137 
 
 berries and speckled seeds, strung on the fibres of a lily or a grass, he makes 
 necklaces and armlets for festal occasions. 
 
 Civilized man, whose observing and reasoning faculties have ripened 
 through the genial influences of education, sees in the humble efforts of his 
 savage brother the indications of paths leading to art, skill, and discovery. 
 In pursuing them, he does not fail to observe that all substances in which 
 vegetable forms have been imitated, whether by modelling, carving, casting, 
 printing, painting, or inlaying, are not equally adapted for the representation 
 of all kinds of ornamental plants. Leaves with broad, leathery lobes, borne 
 on stiff-jointed peduncles, suit castings in bronze and iron, or carvings in 
 low relief on wood ; but delicate and pinnated foliage, or slender fern fronds, 
 require high or complete relief, and those intended to stand out light and 
 prominent must be executed in the most precious metals, and can neither be 
 carved nor cut with natural effect. 
 
 It is curious to notice how the native of the tropics, the region of luxurious 
 growth, takes his clothing and weapons mainly from the vegetable world. 
 The North American Indian has his birch-bark canoe, a simple and rapid 
 yet efficient construction ; and the wilder tribes of Asia exhibit still more 
 abundant evidences of their ingenuity in turning the beautiful flora of their 
 countries to account. They make hats of the screw-palm more serviceable, 
 and unquestionably more elegant than the barbarous head-gear of the West. 
 They construct mats and fans from the bamboo, the mightiest of grasses ; 
 floor-cloths of rattan, fishing-nets of cotton, and others woven from the 
 fibres of pineapple and papyrus. The New Zealander weaves or plaits the 
 flax of his country ; and the inhabitant of the Society Islands makes mats, 
 coronets, and cloth of pandanus, sacca, and breadfruit-tree. 
 
 All plants have been grouped under two great heads, — those with distinct 
 flowers and those apparently flowerless, the former reproducing themselves 
 by seeds, the latter by spores. Flowering plants are regarded as of higher 
 organization than the flowerless ; their tissues present vascular or woody 
 structures which are but imperfectly developed in the flowerless plants, and 
 only in a few tribes of the higher orders 
 
 The most rudimentary forms of flowerless plants are exceedingly minute, 
 and approach so nearly to the nature of the lowest forms of animal life that 
 botanists and zoologists are in doubt, even after the closest investigation, 
 respecting their true position: In some parts of the world, their remains 
 have accumulated so as to form strata of considerable thickness, serving as 
 food, as in the case of the famous bergmehl of Sweden, but more frequently 
 for the making of a powder used in polishing. 
 
 Sea-weeds, a higher step in vegetation, combine in pretty forms, as frames, 
 baskets, etc. Some varieties of algae are used for food, as the Irish moss, 
 choudrus crispus, and the ulva or sloke of Britain. The edible Chinese nest 
 is constructed of a sea-weed, probably a species of gelidium. Iodine, much 
 used in medicine, is procured from various sea-weeds. 
 
 Lichens are terrestrial algae, or leathery crusts, investing trees and stones. 
 A few are valuable for food, as Iceland moss, cetraria islandica. More 
 18 
 
138 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 important are those which furnish dyes, especially those extracted from the 
 genera that supplies the litmus archil 'and cudbear of commerce, yielding 
 valuable red and blue pigments. 
 
 The two great classes of endogens and exogens into which the flowering 
 plants are divided offer a vast number of valuable products. Of endogenous 
 plants, the grasses hold a pre-eminent position as sources of food. Among 
 substances adapted for manufacturing, not a few come from this family. The 
 utility of the bamboo, some species of which attain the height of one 
 hundred feet, has been already alluded to. From the stems of maize excellent 
 brooms and mops are constructed, and straw has been plaited into the most 
 fantastic and useful forms. The true palms are the most valued of endoge- 
 nous plants for cabinet-making, canes, rattans, cordage, and weapons, as 
 well as clothing. The vegetable ivory-nut is the product of a palm of the 
 genus phytelephas. It is made into beautiful toys, and ornaments carved 
 from the stony albumen of its seed, stored up for the use of the embryo 
 plant. The curious fibre-furnishing plant agave, the uses of which are well 
 known to the Mexicans, is now so abundant in the Mediterranean region as 
 to give character to its vegetation. It furnishes bags, cloaks, and even 
 paper. The black walnut of North America gives a wood of a rich purple- 
 brown color. Its capabilities are well shown in cabinet-work. 
 
 The pine tribe, belonging to the apetalous section of exogenous plants, is 
 peculiar as yielding valuable resinous secretions, turpentine, Canada balsam, 
 dammar, sandarac, thus, and Burgundy pitch. The pines may always be 
 detected by disk-bearing woody tissue, which can be seen plainly without a 
 magnifying glass. 
 
 The great group of catkin-bearing trees supplies a vast number of valuable 
 products, especially varieties of timber, pre-eminently oak, beech, and birch, 
 the uses of which are almost countless and the beauty acknowledged. 
 
 In the willow we have another amentaceous tree, furnishing materials of 
 value for domestic purposes, especially the osiers and chip-yielding willows. 
 The bark of numerous catkin-bearing trees is of value, either for direct use, 
 or on account of furnishing tanning or dyeing substances. 
 
 Cork is the outer bark of an oak indigenous in Southern Europe. Its 
 ordinary uses need not be named here, but when cut into exceedingly thin 
 sheets, a novel application has been made of it in the manufacture of light 
 hats. 
 
 The peculiar sm.ell of Russia leather is derived from an oil distilled from 
 the common birch, and which is used in its dressing. 
 
 The nettle tribe is a fruitful source of valuable vegetable products which 
 are fibrous, such as hemp and China grass. The latter, much used in its 
 native country, and imported of late years into England, is used for the 
 manufacture of fine cloth. Many of the figs yield caoutchouc, which is 
 furnished, also, by the euphorbiacea or spurges. Few nations besides Britain 
 and the United States apply it to manufactures. 
 
 Sandal-wood, from which such exquisite cabinets and boxes are carved by 
 the natives of India, is the timber of trees of the santalacias. 
 
Botany as Applied to Industrial Art, 
 
 139 
 
 Fibrous tissues capable of being woven are furnished by several plants of 
 the daphne tribe, and the inner bark of one of them, the lazetta lintearia, is a 
 natural lace in itself. 
 
 Among exogens that bear a monopetalous corolla, is the teak tree of India, 
 one of the most gigantic and valuable of timber trees. A neighboring 
 family of labiate plants are remarkable for their sweet scents and aromatic 
 herbs ; the lavenders, rosemarys, hyssop, peppermint, and thyme all yield 
 volatile oils. The foxgloves and figworts stand beside them, and the night- 
 shades and tobacco plants, with their associates, the capsicums and love- 
 apples, — a strange meeting in one family of man's deadliest enemies, with 
 several of his valued friends. The isonandra-gutta, known as gutta-percha, 
 is one of the most useful substances introduced into the arts in the present 
 century. The ebony belongs also to this group. From the vast order com- 
 posit£e, with its 10,000 species, food in many shapes and medicine in more 
 are the chief contributions. The madders, too, are useful in furnishing color- 
 ing matter. 
 
 The exogens with flowers, the petals of which are constantly separate, 
 number among them many families serviceable to man. Valuable food-plants 
 and gum-resins are supplied by the too-much-abused umbellifer£e. The 
 gourds furnish both food and vessels to hold it. 
 
 Of all dyes, indigo is the most valuable as an article of culture. Another 
 herb of this tribe supplies the Bengal hemp or sun, a fibrous substance 
 of great strength. Latechu and divi-divi are imported from the East for 
 tanning. Many and curious are the balsams of this family, — gum arable and 
 tragacanth ; nor must we omit tonka beans, tamarinds, and senna. 
 
 From the zygophylleae we get the lignum-vitae wood of the West Indies 
 
 The sinacece, small though the family be, hold a high place, on account of 
 including the flax plant. 
 
 The maples make beautiful furniture wood, several varieties being some- 
 times derived from the same tree. The wood of the sugar-maple of North 
 America is the bird's-eye, and also curled maple of the cabinet-maker. The 
 gamboge trees furnish well-known resins, curious butters and oils, as well as 
 the world-famed mangosteen. 
 
 Tea is the product of a plant nearly allied to the cameHia. Camphor is the 
 secretion of a tree of the order dipterocarpeae, a native of the Indian Archi- 
 pelago. Cotton is the hair of the seed of certain plants of the mallow tribe, 
 of which some other kinds produce useful but less known fibres. The great 
 tribe of cruciferae is remarkable for the valued food-plants that it includes. 
 
 The indirect influence of the vegetable world upon arts and manufac- 
 tures must not be passed over. The share it has had in giving origin to the 
 beauty and variety of furniture, ornaments, and fabrics is too important not 
 to be strongly insisted upon here. Our silks, cottons, and muslins, our shawls 
 and damasks, our sideboards and cabinets, our porcelains and glass, would 
 make a comparatively graceless array were the infinite variety of design and 
 color suggested by flowers and fruits, leaves and stems, herbs and trees, taken 
 away ; yet when these representations are scanned by a botanist he is apt to 
 
140 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 regard them with a dissatisfied eye, not because they fail to fulfil the require- 
 ments of scientific accuracy, but on account of the ignorance they too often 
 display of the riches suited to the designer's purpose, lying almost within his 
 grasp, had he known where and how to seek them. A small amount of 
 botanical knowledge would prove very profitable to the draughtsman. Science 
 would teach him how every stem is adapted for its own peculiar style of foli- 
 age, and how an incongruous mixture of leaves, fruits, and flowers cannot 
 give the pleasure to the eye that, even when it is uneducated, it so rapidly 
 and delightfully derives from the contemplation of combinations whose ele- 
 ments are truthful. The leaf of a monocotyledonous plant attached to the 
 flower of a dicotyledon strikes the spectator who has no knowledge of 
 botanical science as unnatural ; for the eye learns, compares, and recollects, 
 even when the understanding is obscure and cloudy. To the botanist, who 
 sees heaven-devised beauties and the manifestations of divine foresight and 
 love in all the structures and stages of vegetable organisms, such mistakes 
 are still more oifensive. The mere literal copying of nature is not what 
 is demanded. The value to a designer of the scientific comprehension of his 
 models is the insight it gives him of the possible in the original, and the 
 inexhaustible sources of grace and beauty, whence so much that is new may 
 be derived. 
 
 The parts of a plant which most readily lend themselves to ornament are 
 the branches, leaves, and flowers. We have observed in plants certain laws 
 and principles which are both beautiful and adaptive, giving us food for medi- 
 tation and supplying ideas indispensable to the designer, ist. Repetition, 
 radiating from a common centre, as in a flower. 2d. Elongated repetition, as 
 in the branching of a plant, when it, in each part, repeats the parent. 3d. 
 Extended repetition, as in the mistletoe, chickweed, compound umbel, and 
 hemlock. 4th. Repetition of a spot or part, as, looking at the primrose from 
 above, it is starred. 5th. Repetition with variation, illustrated by the petals 
 of the mignonette. Here are a number of club-shaped bodies all on one 
 plan, yet all differing in form ; there is a repetition, yet it is with variation. 
 This may be further illustrated by the honeysuckle ornament, which is bor- 
 rowed from a plant the flower of which is modelled on the same principle. 
 6th. There is also that form of repetition which corresponds with the side 
 view of trees. But it is impossible, in an essay, to do more than glance at 
 this great subject, and I must now conclude, reminding you who are chiefly 
 interested in it as it regards art, that we, enjoying the experience of past 
 ages with the opportunities of the present, should endeavor as much as in us 
 lies to contribute to make this distinguished as the era of pure taste and 
 enlightened culture, leaving for the future much to exult in and to imitate. 
 Before we ,can originate, however, anything really estimable, the mind must 
 be instructed, capacities exercised, and enthusiasm fired by the beautiful and 
 endless varieties of nature. Let our standard be low, and we shall never 
 rise to a high level ; but with the glorious works of the great Creator before 
 us, who can resist their ennobling influence or fail to do his part towards 
 extending it to mankind ? 
 
Application of Ornament to Industrial Purposes. 141 
 
 XIX. 
 
 APPLICATION OF ORNAMENT TO INDUSTRIAL 
 
 PURPOSES. 
 
 In studying the history of the past we find, in passing from one stage of 
 civilization to that which preceded it, a condition of development in which 
 humanity became conscious of needs unsupplied. As those needs became 
 defined and imperative, they assumed forms which supplied them, and the 
 history of industrial art commenced. 
 
 When we analyze man's first necessities we find food, shelter, and covering 
 for the body, for warmth in a cold climate, the three primary needs of a human 
 being. Food was furnished by the fruits that grow without cultivation, by 
 roots, twigs, bark, etc., and the flesh of animals. Shelter was limited to 
 holes dug in the earth, caves, mounds raised around stakes to give stability 
 to central cavities, or to rude erections of poles covered with skins or 
 thatched with reeds ; and from such rude efforts to obtain shelter as the 
 shaping of trees so as to support skins in a proper manner, the breaking of 
 rocks to be used more advantageously — have been developed the wondrous 
 structures of beauty which now exist, with all their wealth of ornamentation. 
 The skins of animals, feathers rudely arranged, plaited leaves, reeds, etc., 
 were used for covering, the rudely plaited leaves took the place of the 
 blanket, the accepted symbol of all textile art ; while from the rude weapons 
 which ingenuity provided we may trace the discovery and use of metals, 
 which science and skill are still employed in adapting to so many purposes, 
 and enriching by every decorative process. 
 
 After the means of supplying these wants were equal to the demand, 
 the same spirit of progress which actuates us to-day would suggest a seat 
 other than the ground or the trunk of a tree, etc. ; something to place food 
 upon and to convey it from place to place, other than the human hand ; while 
 at night the dew and moisture of the soil would suggest a structure upon 
 which to rest in comfort, warmth, and safety, and thus gradually, the means of 
 living like civilized beings would be acquired. Born of man's first necessi- 
 ties, the industrial arts increased and multiplied as population increased, and 
 became refined and perfected as civilization and general education carried 
 man onward in the scale of being. Thus we find that to trace the history of 
 industrial art is to trace the history of civilization. 
 
142 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Man's first technical condition was that of a creature working to supply his 
 own necessities. His second condition would be that of one working to supply 
 by his labor the wants of others as well as his own. Hence came the idea of pay- 
 ing and receiving pay for labor, and according to the facility with which man 
 could labor and the demand which existed for his labor, he gradually gained a 
 greater or less ascendency over others, and an accumulation of whatever me- 
 dium of exchange represented the value of labor. As soon as the idea of pay- 
 ing and receiving pay for labor gained force in men's minds, the principle of 
 manufacture was established. Men set themselves to work to produce with as 
 little labor as possible, and at as little cost, what they considered others would 
 be most likely to pay well for. Communities began to do what individuals had 
 done, namely, to barter what they could easily and cheaply produce, for that 
 which would be either costly or difficult for them to obtain, and out of this the 
 spirit of commerce was evolved. Thus men gradually came to minister to one 
 another's necessities. A supply was finally produced in excess of demand, and 
 ornamentation was added to construction, creating a value outside and above 
 absolute need, — a new source of demand requiring a corresponding supply. 
 
 Those branches of industrial art into which design and ornamentation 
 have in all ages most conspicuously entered, may be classified as follows : — 
 
 1. Constructive arts. Those in which a desired result is obtained by an 
 aggregation of parts, useless or inexpressive in themselves, yet fulfilling all 
 the demands of primitive structure. 
 
 2. Sculptured industry, that is, any application of sculpture to industry, 
 produced by working in either hard or plastic substances. 
 
 3. Ceramic art, including all forms of hardening clays by fire, and ulti- 
 mately of decorating them and fixing the decoration. 
 
 4. Vitreous art, including the formation and decoration of glass in all 
 ways, and the adaptation of the principle of glass-making as a covering or 
 decoration to other materials. 
 
 5. Metallic art, by which is meant all the processes of the extraction and 
 manipulation of metals, whether taken alone or in combination with other 
 materials used in structure or decoration. 
 
 6. Textile art, comprising everything worked in the loom or formed or 
 decorated by the needle. 
 
 7. Pictorial industry, including surface decoration, in whatever way or by 
 whatever means applied. 
 
 Technical excellence partially consists in the apportionment of neither too 
 much nor too little material to every purpose. 
 
 A simple form is more beautiful than a complex one, and that which best, 
 answers its end will always look best. 
 
 True beauty results from that repose which the mind feels when the eye, 
 the intellect, and the affections are satisfied. In considering design adapted 
 to ornamentation the only sound standard is that which requires that the orna- 
 ment shall increase the beauty of useful objects without limiting their useful- 
 ness. The ornamentation of an article is something which is not necessary 
 to its use, and the ornament is bad which interferes with that use or limits it 
 
Application of Ornament to Industrial Purposes. 143 
 
 in any way. An excess of ornament is not enrichment, it is merely ostenta- 
 tious vulgarity. A lavish profusion of ornament is often resorted to, to cover 
 inferior work in construction. 
 
 Construction may be decorated, but decoration should never be con- 
 structed. 
 
 Flowers or other natural objects should not be be used as ornaments, but 
 conventional representations founded upon them, sufficiently suggestive to 
 convey the intended image to the mind without destroying the unity of the 
 object they are employed to decorate. 
 
 Conventionalism is a first necessity in ornamentation. 
 
 The lower the office and the less tractable the material of an object, the less 
 of nature should be contained in the ornament applied to it, until a zigzag 
 becomes the best ornament for the hem of a robe, and a mosaic of colored 
 glass the best design for a colored window. All right conventionalism is a 
 wise acceptance of, and compliance with, conditions of restraint or inferiority, 
 and all these lower forms of art are to be conventional, only because they are 
 subordinate, and not because conventionalism is in iiself a good or desirable 
 thing. 
 
 Now, this great and most precious principle may be compromised in two ways. 
 It is compromised, on one side, when men suppose that the degradation of the 
 natural form which fits it for some subordinate place is an improvement upon it, 
 and that a black profile on a red ground, because proper for a water-jug, is 
 therefore " an idealization of humanity, and a nobler work of art than a picture by 
 Titian." It is compromised as gravely, on the opposite side, when men refuse to 
 submit to the limitation of material and the fitness to purpose ; when they try to 
 produce finished pictures in colored glass, and substitute the incomplete imi- 
 tation of natural objects for the perfectness of adapted and disciplined design. 
 
 Under the first class of industrial arts we find the parent of all arts, 
 architecture, standing almost alone as a common basis to the Fine and 
 Industrial Arts. Architecture is the material expression of the wants, the 
 faculties, and the sentiments of the age in which it is created. 
 
 Style, in architecture, is the peculiar form that expression takes, under the 
 influence of climate and material at command. 
 
 A great deal of the distinction between building and architecture, between 
 use and beauty, consists in understanding the true position of each in relation 
 to man's necessities and his aspirations, and this must enter into the study of 
 one who would fit himself to perform the duties of an architect nobly. 
 
 With regard to materials, there seems good ground for supposing that the 
 natural products of a locality are the best, and it certainly comes within the 
 range of art to use native materials to the best advantage. 
 
 Where these are manifold, a pleasing contrast of color may be produced by 
 the use of several kinds in one building. This association of color in material 
 is not the first step in ornamentation, but the second. The first is the forma- 
 tion of lines in the construction, either in the shape of mouldings or masses 
 of material. 
 
 Some of the most pleasing architectural effects are obtained by employing 
 
144 I "^he Antefix Papers. 
 
 strong material, like granite, for shafts and columns, a different stone to make 
 string courses or bands of horizontallines, and a third to form the plain wall, 
 and mass of coloring. 
 
 There is considerable danger, however, of overdoing this work in colored 
 material, and its judicious employment requires very great skill in the designer. 
 
 It is as easy to place light and dark colors in the wrong place in a building 
 as in a picture ; and as a rule, the effect has been found the most pleasing 
 when the lighter material forms the main part of the structure, and the 
 darker is used for enrichment. Pleasing contrasts may also be obtained by 
 polished and dead surfaces in marble and granite, or of glazed brick and tiles 
 in brick-work. 
 
 Relief ornament for architectural enrichment should be a contrast of 
 planes ; the outer leaves, if in foliage, should be concave, the inner convex ; 
 as the concave surface absorbs, and the convex radiates light. If foliage 
 ornament is to be gilded, the lines must be deeper cut, the outline more 
 clearly defined than otherwise, as gilding will produce an effect like a 
 polished surface. In subordinate parts, the decoration may be less dis- 
 tinctive in character, with a flatter surface. As projection produces shadow, 
 so flatness ensures light, and hence the lowest relief is best fitted for an 
 invariably dark situation. The flatness which ensures light would, however, 
 be indistinct and formless, unless the outlines were clearly cut and con- 
 spicuous at the first glance. This is effected by abruptly sinking the edges of 
 the forms to the plane from which they are raised, instead of gradually round- 
 ing and thus losing them. In many instances, the sides are under-cut, and thus 
 present a deeper line of shadow. This device gives to a work in an obscure 
 situation, the effect of rotundity. Flat relief is not always intended to appear 
 so, and is better applied to interior decorations, for in the open air it often 
 appears too flat and otherwise indistinct. 
 
 Moulding should be cut to a greater depth in dark material to produce 
 marked contrasts of light and shade, than in light material. The designer 
 should be acquainted with the laws of the projections of shadows, and all the 
 varying conditions of illumination under which his work, or any parts or 
 portions of it, are ever likely to be seen. He should know all the laws of chi- 
 aro-oscuro, and appreciate the extent to which, by a dexterous management of 
 them, he may be enabled to concentrate the spectator's attention upon one 
 part of his work, and to cause another to sink into a secondary or altogether 
 subordinate position. He should know how to heighten effects of light by 
 judicious contrast with strongly-concentrated shadows, and how reflections 
 from highly-illuminated surfaces, thrown upon parts in shade, produce deli- 
 cate half-tints upon receding mouldings, so that he may be able to soften the 
 deepest black of any shadow into harmony with the highly-illuminated 
 surface by which the shadow may be projected. He must make himself 
 acquainted with the artistic value of the advancing or retiring qualities of 
 colors, both in full light and in every degree of shadow, so that when he is 
 called upon to use materials of varying tint, he may know how to reconcile 
 inconsistencies, and maintain an equal balance between parts which, without 
 a wise distribution, would inevitably cause an appearance of feebleness. 
 
Application of Ornament to Industrial Purposes. 145 
 
 But all our decorations should not be placed on the outside. Interiors 
 should not be supposed to have attained the end of their existence when the 
 walls are finished enough to admit of their being inhabited. The decorative 
 artist may do a great deal towards breathing a soul into rooms which without 
 his aid would appear dead. Every part will suggest its own appropriate use, 
 and every ornament will help to create a beauty outside of itself, when it is 
 subordinate to the uses of the room it is employed to adorn. The pervading 
 sentiment of a beautiful home is harmony and repose. To the visitor, coming 
 from the glare of the crowded street, a grateful and hospitable welcome is 
 extended by every object that meets his eye. The best principles of interior 
 and surface decorations have been given us, and the objects placed in a room 
 must be chosen to correspond with such decorations and the use of the room. 
 
 The earliest Egyptian paintings furnish us with illustrations of furniture 
 apparently very simply wrought, but always in very graceful lines, with the 
 parts arranged in a judicious and workmanlike manner. The beds or 
 couches appear to be both simple and elegant. Assyrian seats and footstools 
 are no less complete and well suited to their purposes than similar articles 
 among the Egyptians. In all these archaic specimens of furniture there is a 
 simplicity of style thoroughly satisfactory to the eye. There is never any 
 question as to function. All are ornamented where ornament can be satisfac- 
 torily introduced, so as not to interfere with the use or appearance of use of the 
 object, and ornament is always added by a process analogous to that by which 
 the object has been wrought. Superadded or inlaid ornament is never obtru- 
 sive, and the eye never desires its removal. If not positively essential to con- 
 struction, it always harmonizes with it, and never runs counter to it ; is never 
 omitted where it seems to be wanted, nor added where it can be dispensed 
 with. The grain of the wood must be considered in designs and ornaments 
 applied to chairs, etc. Strength means straightness and squareness ; curva- 
 ture means weakness and liability to destruction in use. Very high relief 
 and very round, delicate carvings are bad, because wood will split, and parts 
 will warp and crack off. Carvings should be in low relief, in recessed or 
 sunken portions of the form, both for their own protection and its more grati- 
 fying enrichment. In enriching furniture with inlays of various colors, harmony 
 of color with the fabric used for covering, must be taken into consideration. 
 
 The broadest definition which may be given to the art of sculpture, is that it 
 is a means whereby the emotion of pleasure can be conveyed to the intellect 
 through man's fashioning of the images of his mind into solid forms. These 
 images, from the earliest ages, have assumed two forms, the one isolated, 
 the other combined. In the isolated form they have generally constituted 
 tangible symbols or embodiment of ideas. The god and the hero have been 
 the earliest types. In the combined form, the art of the sculptor is so inti- 
 mately connected with that of the architect as to be all but inseparable. 
 Man probably learned how to cut away rock in endeavoring to make for him- 
 self durable and permanent shelter. So soon as the technical process of 
 cutting material into shapes at will was acquired, a ready means of ornament- 
 ing structure was available. 
 
 19 
 
146 
 
 The Aiitefix Papers. 
 
 By means of sculpture, structure was not only made more beautiful, but 
 became marked and identified with times and peoples, their legends, their 
 faith, and their works. To understand the various ways in which sculpture 
 may be used for ornamentation, it is well to notice the varieties of relief in 
 which the artist is able to represent his design. He may represent any 
 image or group in completely solid form, and in the full dimensions in which 
 he may see and place his model. This is known as working in the round ; 
 and so long as a sculptor adheres to what is called the round, he must deal 
 with the form in the same sections and with the various contouring surfaces 
 in the same position in which they exist in his model, subject to such devia- 
 tions as the conventions of his art require. 
 
 In alto-rilievo the sculptor simply places a solid and generally flat backing 
 behind any figure he may model in the round. The flatness of this backing, 
 and the limit of space within which the figures have to be contained, necessi- 
 tates a disposition of the figures in their leading actions, in planes parallel 
 with the surface of the backing, but subject to such laws of disposition as have 
 been referred to. In alto-rilievo the sculptor gives his forms the full devel- 
 opment which they exhibit in nature. In cases where the depth is limited it 
 may be necessary to sink a portion of the figure into the background. It is 
 still regarded as alto-rilievo until one half its depth from back to front is sunk. 
 In that case it is known as mezzo-rilievo, and in all varieties of depth from 
 back to front, from half the substance down to that flatness characteristic of 
 sculpture upon medals, the work remains in basso rilievo. 
 
 When the flatness is such that scarcely anything but a flat picture is left, 
 " stiacciato " rilievo is obtained. As a general rule it becomes necessary to 
 flatten every part according to a scale obtained by laying out on a straight 
 line the full dimensions of the depth of every part of the model, and then 
 applying that line at such an angle to the surface of the background of the 
 bas-relief as may allow its whole extent to be comprised within the parallel 
 planes of the back of the bas-relief and a plane parallel to it, beyond which 
 none of the parts shall project. The contour or outline of every form retains 
 a natural scale. 
 
 When the relief is to be seen from a great distance it is necessary to raise 
 the parts which meet the background more from the ground than if a strict 
 scale of projection was followed. When it is closely inspected the forms 
 although almost lost in the background may yet be clearly perceptible. 
 
 In designs for relief every principal part necessary for telling the story must 
 be exhibited. 
 
 A certain open display is generally adopted, and shadows, or the forms which 
 project them, so disposed as to present at first glance an intelligible appearance. 
 When the shadows are suppressed the general form becomes indistinct. 
 
 In imitating nature, the imitation should be least truthful in objects which 
 by their nature appertain to the material in which the sculpture is executed. 
 A flower may be imitated in marble with an approximation to direct imitation 
 that would be quite unfitting in a coarser stone. Things which are imitated 
 should never be so imitated as to make us conscious of the stubbornness of 
 
Application of Ornament to Industrial Purposes. 147 
 
 the material in which they are wrought, or of its different texture and 
 strength. 
 
 What the nature of the ornamentation should be, must obviously be dictated 
 by various considerations, of which the first is the destination and purpose 
 of the work in hand. To design a figure or ornamentation for a church is 
 one thing, for a theatre another, for a conservatory yet another. The scale upon 
 which the work is to be executed will also limit it. The treatment of a bas- 
 relief to be placed high up on the facade of a public building, ought to be 
 absolutely different from that of one to be introduced into a drawing-room 
 chimney-piece, or used as ornament for a piece of furniture. Above all, the 
 honest truth must be told in everything. There is probably no department of 
 ancient industry in which the genius of the art-workman is exhibited in a more 
 concentrated form than in cutting gems ; and in applying sculpture to ornament 
 the Glyptic art must not be omitted. From the most remote antiquity the 
 engraved gem was the universal token of dominion. 
 
 The two terms used to characterize ancient gems have been generally adopted 
 into art language as expressive of the two kinds of sculpture in which they 
 were executed, so that it may be well to speak of the difference between Intaglio 
 and Cameo. 
 
 In Intaglio, the image is cut into the material ; in Cameo, the ground is 
 cut away from about the image, leaving it in more or less high relief. 
 
 Judging from the enormous quantities of these gems still extant, they 
 must have been used by the ancients in great profusion, particularly by the 
 Greeks and Romans. What the one craved as an intellectual enjoyment, 
 the other demanded as the attribute and symbol of wealth. Not only were 
 they used for personal adornment, but to ornament every object to which 
 they would be applied. 
 
 Although it is in connection with architecture that sculpture finds its 
 noblest adaptation, it is more or less intimately connected with the orna- 
 mentation of most of the industrial arts. 
 
 In the four operations by means of which sculpture has ever been exe- 
 cuted, it is brought into connection with various materials. These four oper- 
 ations are cutting, modelling, fusing, and beating. The operation of cutting 
 transforms granite, marble, stone, wood, ivory, precious stones, etc., from 
 shapeless forms into works of rare beauty. The operation of modelling 
 develops forms out of any soft matter that can be converted into an 
 approximation to hardness. The third operation, of fusing, came into use 
 with the knowledge of the means of extracting metals from their ores, and 
 of that property of metals which allows them to become fluid by the 
 action of heat, and to return to solidity on cooling. The last operation, that 
 of beating, required the knowledge of the relative ductility of metal under 
 various conditions. 
 
 Thus we see there are but few materials upon which the art of sculpture may 
 not be employed as a means of enrichment ; and as the love for it seems 
 to be a simple natural instinct, we look for it more and more in familiar house- 
 hold objects. We must guard against superabundance, degenerating into 
 
148 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 inferiority, as the means of supply increase. The best way of doing this is to 
 keep applied sculpture within its proper limits, and not employ it at the 
 expense of simplicity, elegance of form, and propriety of use in the object 
 to be enriched, as, in common with all ornamention, when wrongly used it 
 disfigures, as much as when rightly used it adorns. The word sculpture has 
 been used as embracing all relief ornament, which is the application of 
 sculpture to industrial purposes, in the same way that surface or flat orna- 
 ment may be used to signify the industrial application of painting. 
 
 It is evident that the underlying principles by which ornamentation is 
 properly and skilfully applied to industrial purposes, are the same in every 
 branch, and it is the duty of the designer to acquaint himself with the pecu- 
 liar limitations of material and manufacture of each object or article, and to 
 limit his designs to their capabilities. 
 
 In past times the producer and consumer of an article were brought into 
 ^rect communication, and the thing produced was sure to correspond to the 
 conditions of civilization common to both, and to be beautiful according to 
 the then existing perceptions of beauty and actual measure of intelligence. 
 But in our time, when everything is manufactured in abundance, with a thought 
 of possible storage awaiting demand, the object is stamped with a character 
 of generalization instead of particular adaptation. The design must have 
 reference to the wants of the trade and the needs of the masses. It follows 
 then that, though things beautiful may be and are manufactured, they are too 
 often those of exceptional use, rich and costly, coming within the scope of 
 but few, while objects that pursue us everywhere are left to chance or the 
 fancy of those who have little care for fitness and beauty combined; work- 
 men whose only thought is the moderate cost of manufacture, and whose 
 trust is the general demand to ensure sale. 
 
 Ornament is not a necessity to use, but it is a necessity to develop the 
 highest, noblest faculties of our nature, to harmonize and centralize our 
 thoughts and aspirations. As we individualize ourselves, we stamp the mark 
 of our individuality on all we create ; and if our creations are harmonious, 
 in the whole as well as in detail, they will appeal to the innate sense of fitness 
 in every one, and be in demand. As with individuals so with nations ; and in 
 this sense, taste and culture become of commercial value, — commodities to 
 be bought and sold, at a fixed market rate. 
 
 Most of us shrink from the task of attempting much in design, finding that the 
 power to produce suitable and beautiful designs is not inherent in our nature ; 
 and not only this, but that the knowledge required is so extensive, embracing so 
 many subjects we have not been familiar with, with the addition of creative 
 power, that we care not to make the effort to acquire it. We have also learned 
 that it is no easy task to overrule existing ideas and practices, and create a 
 demand for, as well as to furnish a supply of beautiful things for the most com- 
 mon uses of life ; and as defective supply only follows defective demand, the 
 ability to appreciate better things must first be developed among the people. 
 This, from the position we have taken and hope to take in the educational arena, 
 seems to be our province ; and to educate ourselves to be honest and true as 
 
Application of Ornament to Industrial Purposes. 
 
 149 
 
 teachers leaves little chance for idle eyes, idle hands, or idle dreams. It is 
 impossible for any to form right ideas of the harmony of color, impossible to 
 arrive at a perfect adaptation of parts in objects, decorations, etc., without a 
 knowledge of, and an association with, such harmonies and combinations. 
 The most perfect eye and skilful hand, combined with creative power, if 
 human, cannot long continue to produce beauty and fitness in design, unless 
 they are surrounded by beautiful objects in nature and art to nourish and 
 support them. It is evidently a duty we owe ourselves to gather about us 
 objects that have a value beyond use, that will suggest harmony, beauty, and 
 repose, and prepare us to awaken in those with whom we come in contact an 
 appreciation of a greater excellence in the useful articles of every-day life. 
 Thus we may help to develop out of this first effort to establish a public 
 school of art in America, a power which shall fill American homes, from 
 highest to lowest, with objects which shall refine and ennoble the American 
 nature, raising its standard of excellence, winning it to a nobler culture, that 
 shall make our country rank second to none in art education. 
 
Ihe Antefix Papers. 
 
 XX. 
 
 ORNAMENT AS APPLIED TO INDUSTRIAL 
 PURPOSES. 
 
 It seems to be a somewhat difficult matter to treat this subject properly 
 without overstepping its strict bounds, or at least trenching upon the ground 
 covered by other essays which form a part of this series. I shall endeavor, 
 however, to keep very near the dividing line, passing over, it may be, here 
 and there, where some root of my subject has pierced the loose soil beneath 
 my neighbor's fence, or some branch or vine has carried its fruitage upon his 
 domain. 
 
 I believe there is a creed extant -— if not written, at least real and well 
 defined — that art may be very properly divided into the two grand divisions 
 of the useful and the ornamental, or, as its adherents might perhaps be 
 inclined to put it, the useful and the useless. This creed, although doubtless 
 quite in accordance with strict Puritanic logic, I cannot accept as orthodox ; 
 nay, more, I am constrained by a spirit that is within me to denounce it as 
 rank heresy, false from the ethical as well as the aesthetical point of view. 
 
 Decoration is no more a luxury in a civilized state of society than 
 warmth or clothing are a luxury to any state of society ; the mind, like the 
 body, makes everything a necessity that it is capable of permanently enjoy- 
 ing. Ornament is one of the mind's necessities, which is gratified by means 
 of the eye. Man is not a unit, but a dual being, endowed with a physical and 
 an i'ntellectual nature, both of which must be ministered to, or he dies, — or 
 at least that part of him which is not nourished. The physical nature requires 
 food, drink, clothing, and shelter, — but few wants and easily satisfied ; the 
 other and higher nature demands far more, and one of the first and last of 
 its needs is ornament. The love of ornament — not simply the love of 
 beauty, but of ornament as well — is instinctive in the human mind. 
 
 If we undertake to deny the necessity of ornament, we must be able to 
 show that mankind would be as well without it as with it. This is impossi- 
 ble, as history records no people or race that has not availed itself of its aid ; 
 and generally, in proportion as nations have become more enlightened, in 
 that proportion ornament and ornamental art have flourished. It is a well- 
 known act that there is hardly a branch of all the varied industries of the 
 
Ornament as Applied to Industrial Purposes. 
 
 world into which ornament does not enter as a factor ; hardly one in which 
 the value of the product is not more or less increased by its proper use. 
 Ornament is not only useful then, but its usefulness is everywhere admitted ; 
 if not in words, then in deeds, which are stronger and weightier than words. 
 That which is not only useful but beautiful, or believed to be beautiful, is 
 everywhere preferred to that which is merely useful ; thus ornament and 
 beauty, as well as utility, become essential elements in commercial prosperity, 
 and this in an increasing ratio, as refinement replaces barbarism, and culture 
 supplants ignorance. The wants of the mind, no less than the wants of the 
 body, demand to be satisfied. This being the case, ornament becomes as 
 much an article of commerce as corn, as cotton, or as any brain work. 
 
 But as in everything else whose demand indirectly creates its own supply, 
 so also in ornament, there is a demand for that which is good, that which is 
 indifferent, and that which is positively bad ; and each of these demands is met, 
 not only in quality, but in quantity and in price. 
 
 As in merchandise and morals, so also in ornament, the indifferent and bad 
 is largely in excess of the good. Forgery and adulteration are not confined to 
 the popularly accepted meaning of those terms, but have a wider significance in 
 the domain of art ; for as the basest villany pats on the guise of the most 
 exalted virtue, so likewise the basest ornament aims at passing for something 
 more precious and costly than it is. Sterling gold is imitated by cheap 
 gilding ; the precious diamond and ruby, emerald, amethyst, and topaz, by 
 quartz or still cheaper bits of tawdry glass ; the exquisite mingling of light, 
 shade, and shadow of the sculptured stone, or the modelled stucco ; the beau- 
 tiful graining of mahogany, rosewood, and satinwood, and the delicate vein- 
 ing of the choicest marbles, are imitated or cheaply counterfeited by the 
 painter's craft and skill. 
 
 Veneering, graining, and marbling may indeed awaken our admiration for 
 their skilful execution, but they are worthy only of such feelings of disgust 
 and scorn as we should mete out to him who had used his admirable skill in 
 penmanship to forge the name of a trusting friend, his mastery of the engrav- 
 er's art to counterfeit the currency of his country, or his skill in language to 
 deceive, slander, and falsify. We take no pleasure in fair sounding phrases, 
 if we doubt the truth of the statements they express ; nay, the more plausible 
 they are, the more contemptible, because the more calculated to mislead : so 
 in all ornamental art imitations, the more perfect the imitation the more it is 
 likely to induce the belief that it is real, and therefore the more contemptible 
 is its use. 
 
 Continued familiarity with crime deadens the sensibility to virtue ; continued 
 familiarity with equivocation and falsehood gradually destroys all fine appre- 
 ciation of the beauty of absolute truth ; and the indifference with which we 
 view social, religious, and architectural shams and pretences from day to day, 
 is doubtless largely the result of the persistent practice of the ornamental 
 deception of the past two hundred years and more. We play at the childish 
 game of make believe," and have so long accustomed ourselves to the con- 
 templation of " sham," that " appearances " are about all that we think 
 
152 
 
 The Afttefix Papers. 
 
 worth living for ; and many a miserable being has ignominiously slunk out 
 of life because, forsooth, he or she could no longer "keep up appearances." 
 Woe to the nation, the church, the man, or the art that is built upon a founda- 
 tion of deception and fraud ! They will utterly perish, or be remembered only 
 in scorn. Only the structure founded upon truth will stand the ravages of 
 Time. 
 
 In order, then, to have worthy ornamentation, we must once and forever 
 cast away deceptive imitation of whatever nature, and go back to the eternal 
 foundation rock of Truth. Every principle that will not stand that searching 
 test must be resolutely, heroically (for it often requires moral heroism to be 
 true) cast aside. 
 
 The very first principle, then, is Truth. Owen Jones says, " That which is 
 beautiful is true ; that which is true must be beautiful." According to the 
 common acceptation of the term "beautiful," this sentiment may not find many 
 converts ; but there is in its higher sense, and in its deeper meaning, a truth 
 not only beautiful but absolutely sublime. 
 
 Principles in art are something like laws in civil government : they may be 
 observed as to the letter, and evaded as to the spirit ; but such observance is 
 only better in degree than open violation. Once let this fundamental prin- 
 ciple of Truth be thoroughly rooted and grounded, and the foundation at least 
 is laid for an epoch of art that shall rival that of Greece and overshadow that 
 of Rome. 
 
 And now, having laid the foundations of our structure (to continue our meta- 
 phor) upon the solid bed-rock of Truth, we may rear the columns which are 
 to support our fabric, namely. Utility, Fitness, Adaptation. Let us adopt 
 these words as the names of the leading principles of Industrial Art and of 
 Ornamentation, for there can be no true excellence where they are ignored or 
 disregarded. 
 
 Given this problem, then : to construct and ornament any article whatever, 
 the mind must work in something like this order : — 
 
 Firsts the demands of Utility : What are the uses of this object ? 
 
 Second, What material is most fit for its construction, or best adapted to 
 meet all the requirements of the object ? 
 
 Thi?'d. What form is best suited to it, considering its uses, the material 
 selected, and the method of manufacture that the nature of the material imposes 
 upon us ? and how can this general form be made most beautiful with the least 
 outlay of labor, material, or skill, without detracting in any degree from its 
 utility or making it too fine for its proposed use ? 
 
 Fourth. How is it to be additionally ornamented or enriched, to make it 
 more beautiful, though subject to all the above conditions and restrictions ? 
 
 Upon each of these successive divisions much thought must be expended, 
 and the excellence of the product will serve to show what that thought has 
 been, and whether it is the offspring of ignorance or knowledge. An aimless 
 ambition, that seeks to startle you into admiration by some trick or novelty, is 
 usually the characteristic of ignorance ; a thoughtful simplicity, that foresees 
 and considers every requirement of utility and of correct taste, and strives to 
 
Ornament as Applied to Industrial Purposes. 
 
 153 
 
 meet it in the most obvious way without trick or sham, is equally the charac- 
 teristic of knowledge. 
 
 As every work is, to a certain extent, a moral and intellectual no less than 
 an aesthetical portrait of its designer, to be scanned by every intelligent spec- 
 tator, thought and reason, not fancy and memory alone, should determine 
 every decision. 
 
 Utility is the first law, therefore the use to which the object is to be put is 
 first to be thought of. The ornament is subordinate to the object it enriches, 
 and should receive attention only after the use, material, and general form of 
 the object have been considered and determined upon, and this would seem 
 to be the first thing to be considered. " Is it pretty? " " Is it striking? " not, 
 " Is it convenient and suitable? " is the more common order. Yet there is an 
 abstract beauty in fitness, without which all other beauty is unsatisfactory ; 
 it far surpasses all other forms of beauty, because it acts not only upon the 
 eye, but through the judgment also. Any article that does not answer the 
 end of its creation in the best and most consistent manner, is not beautiful ; 
 in just that degree it may be made up of lines and forms, colors and materials, 
 that are each and all beautiful, but if it has not the beauty of fitness it lacks 
 the first element of true beauty. The watch that will not keep time, the car- 
 riage that lacks the requisite strength to support its load, the eyes that cannot 
 see, the hands that cannot labor, have no beauty in them, because no fitness. 
 
 Utility, then, must be first^ and a disregard of this principle argues igno- 
 rance or inefficiency — generally both. It is disregarded by the architect who 
 expends all his talent, and all the available money of his employer, in embel- 
 lishing the exterior of a building whose interior is deficient in actual con- 
 venience ; whose rooms are poorly arranged or poorly lighted ; whose floors 
 are shaky, and whose entire unworthiness is in startling contrast to its 
 exterior pretence. It is disregarded by the tailor, the dressmaker, and the 
 shoemaker who sacrifice comfort and utility to style, and torture you into the 
 unchristian wish that they might be compelled to wear the garments they have 
 prepared for your use ; it is set aside by that fickle Goddess of Fashion who 
 decrees that you must wear expensive stuffs in such a manner that they must 
 soon become soiled, and yet cannot be cleansed without destroying them ; 
 as well as by that high-toned sentiment, so very commonly entertained, that it 
 is more honorable to be a wealthy dunce than an intelligent and useful worker 
 whose hands and brow betray the signs of honest toil. 
 
 What material is best adapted to meet all its requirements ? This again 
 demands thought. Perhaps gold is most appropriate, but its use is precluded 
 by its cost. How then, — shall it be an inferior metal, wearing the semblance of 
 gold ? No ; a thousand times no ! Silver, brass, copper, tin, clay, — what 
 you will, if only the material be adapted to the use of the object ; but 
 whatever it be, whether silver or clay, let no mean ambition induce you to try 
 to deceive another as to its true nature or value. The appearance of success 
 gained by such means is worse than the most unequivocal and palpable 
 failure ; nothing can justify it, nothing palliate the fraud. Not only Truth 
 and Utility, but Adaptability and Fitness enter into a consideration of this 
 20 
 
154 
 
 The Ante fix Papers. 
 
 division of the subject. The plastic clay of the potter, the ductile wrought- 
 iron of the smith, and the unyielding granite from the mountain-side, may 
 be wrought into the same forms, with a relative amount of toil, and com- 
 paratively satisfactory or unsatisfactory results. The clay has the quality of 
 plasticity, possessed to a less degree, or not at all, by the other materials, 
 and this quality should determine its treatment. In the earthen vase, the 
 terra-cotta ornament, modelled and baked, this plastic quality is unmistakably 
 presented to the understanding through the eye. So of wood : it has certain 
 well-known characteristics peculiar to it alone. It will shrink or expand under 
 certain influences ; it will bear a great tensile or crushing force in the direction 
 of its fibres, but not across them ; it is easily planed and sawed, cut, turned, and 
 carved, but cannnot be beaten into shape like iron nor modelled like clay ; 
 it may be steamed and bent into forms, and, if seasoned in those forms, will 
 retain its shape under certain conditions. Its treatment should, therefore, 
 be in accordance with these qualities, and, so far as any expression is called 
 for, should proclaim them unmistakably. To employ wood in an arch, as 
 you would employ stone ; to fashion it into the form of buttresses or pinna- 
 cles, as though its weight were an element of stability, is to falsify its 
 character. Its use should rather be such as to say in unmistakable language, 
 " Lo, I am Wood ; my strength is in my fibre and grain ; you may rely upon 
 me so far as my inherent nature gives me the power to serve you, — only let 
 me be myself and serve you in my own way, however humble. I am satisfied 
 to be simply wood, and am ambitious to be nothing else. Protect me from 
 the weather and from the effects of damp, if you will ; but do not force me to 
 appear like marble, for however beautiful it may be, it is too cold and hard 
 for me ; nor like gold, however precious, for it has an evil glitter that is 
 akin to envy. No, no ; I am neither proud nor aristocratic nor rich nor 
 haughty. I am content and happy to be of use where I can be myself, and 
 not another." 
 
 Form should therefore be so subject to the requirements of the general 
 principles before enumerated, as to harmonize with other objects with which it 
 is to be associated. Neither time nor space permit more than a mere allusion 
 to the principles of design. A knowledge of the fundamental principles of Unity, 
 Repose, and Breadth is presupposed, and how the effects thus designated 
 are realized. There must be unity, then, between the form under considera- 
 tion, and the various forms with which it is to be surrounded ; and this unity 
 should extend, not simply to unity of abstract form, but to unity of historic 
 style, and to that still more subtile unity of color, and tone, and character, 
 vaguely characterized by the general term "in keeping." 
 
 But while we consider form from an aesthetic point of view, we must not 
 lose sight of that practical question. How can this form be best realized in 
 the material selected ? And this consideration demands a knowledge of the 
 technical processes of manufacture, so that knowledge of the methods of the 
 workshop may go hand in hand with a knowledge of art principles. An 
 architect must virtually be a builder as well, and understand the technic of 
 every craft employed in carrying out his designs ; and a designer of any work 
 
Ornament as Applied to Industrial Purposes. 
 
 155 
 
 must know, not only what is correct in principle, but what is practicable and 
 best in execution as well ; otherwise, however ingenious, however learned in 
 general principles of art, he has no business to pretend to be a designer. 
 There is a proverb that exactly suits this place : " For if the blind lead the 
 blind, both will fall into the ditch." If true, as doubtless it is, what must 
 be the present condition of the ditch ! 
 
 How to ornament. What is the most obvious method, determined by the 
 material ? What kind of lines and forms can be employed, which will best 
 bring out and enhance the beauty of the contour, be easily executed, and 
 suffer least from any distortion produced by any accidental point of view ? If 
 relief ornaments are appropriate, and decided upon, as well as the amount of 
 relief that will make the decoration sufficiently conspicuous, without destroying 
 the unity of form of the object decorated, the applied ornament must be sub- 
 ordinate to the object enriched, as the form of that object is in turn subordi- 
 nate to its use. This principle of subordination, growing out of the broader 
 principle of unity, deserves very particular notice. The scale of subordina- 
 tion must be very nicely adjusted, from the use of the object down through 
 all minor considerations, to the position, form, and color of the most minute 
 detail of ornament, the governing principle being, that everything is to be 
 elaborate and conspicuous in just the degree that its importance warrants, 
 unless practical considerations operate to suspend this rule. For instance, 
 in a building, the foundations and the piers are two of the most important 
 features, but the foundations are not ornamented because they are concealed 
 from sight. The piers or columns are ornamented according to the principle 
 advocated, the capital receiving the most elaborate ornamentation, the base 
 and shaft such as will render them beautiful without destroying either the 
 sense of unity or of fitness. They must have no elaborate carving to be chipped 
 away by rude contact with passing bodies ; no deep cuttings to retain the 
 dust and grime which would be sure to gather in them ; no bright, pure 
 colors which will become soiled and worn away, but bold, massive, smoothly 
 wrought surfaces, or mouldings, not liable to receive injury, and tertiary colors, 
 or broken hues and tones, suggesting at once strength and fitness. 
 
 Having determined, then, the general character of the ornamentation, 
 whether rehef or surface, and the general distribution of the decorative forms, 
 we must next consider how the design is to be carried out : whether it is to 
 be cast, modelled, carved, or embossed and chased, on the one hand, or sten- 
 cilled, printed, pencilled, embroidered, woven, or inlaid, upon the other. 
 A knowledge of the technicalities of any craft is necessary, in order to pro- 
 duce a design to be executed by that craft, having the merit of adaptation, 
 and even of practicability ; and the character of the product, as well as its 
 merit, depends largely upon the timely consideration of the desired results, 
 and how they are to be attained. The finished product, then, is valuable 
 in degree, other things being equal, as knowledge or ignorance has been the 
 motive power. In the consideration above referred to, the effect of light and 
 shade should not be overlooked ; for whether the ornament is surface or 
 relief, or a mingling of the two, light and shade are two of the most important 
 factors to be considered and calculated. 
 
156 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Again, if colors are to be employed at all, we must consider the purifying 
 and strengthening, or the impoverishing effects produced by their juxtaposi- 
 tion one with another. A thorough knowledge of the harmony and properties 
 of colors, not only theoretical but also experimental and practical, must be 
 the basis of harmonious color effects. 
 
 Finally, as ornament must be applied to every variety of surface, plane, 
 cylindrical, conical, and spherical, and to modifications of these and other 
 surfaces, it is absolutely necessary that the designer should be able to shape 
 his patterns to fit any required surface, in order that the applied design may 
 not be deficient in distribution and continuity. This involves a knowledge of 
 projection drawing in some of its higher applications. 
 
 In fact, no knowledge, either theoretical or practical, whether belonging to 
 the special domain of physics, ethics, or esthetics, whether scientific or meta- 
 physical, can come amiss to the true decorative artist. It is not the profession 
 that exalts the man, it is the man that exalts the profession, and his kingdom 
 is what he makes it. In its possibilities his kingdom is literally the world, 
 and not only may his skill awaken the admiration of him who pays for it, but 
 that of every beholder, not only in the fleeting present, but through all coming 
 ages, even as we of the present generation admire the ancient Egyptians in 
 their admirable system of ornamentation, executed at a period to which the 
 Dark Ages are but as yesterday. The art of the designer appeals at once 
 to the most ignorant and to the most enlightened, — it is a key with which 
 every heart can be unlocked ; and with him, more truly, perhaps, than any 
 other, it may be said that " knowledge is power." 
 
Reproductive Processes, 
 
 157 
 
 XXL 
 
 REPRODUCTIVE PROCESSES. 
 
 For the transmission of ideas, two modes only, beyond that of touch, 
 have been open to mankind, — one, and the more common, that of sound ; 
 and the other, hardly less important, that of form and color. It is with this 
 latter mode of expression that we are to deal. 
 
 Passing by the crude efforts of the first few centuries, we find the 
 exchange of ideas taking a tangible form in China in the shape of printing, 
 somewhere about 900 B. C. ; and two thousand years later the monks of 
 Europe are known to have worked from roughly-engraved blocks what are 
 termed block-books. Later, about 1430, Gutenberg and his associates devel- 
 oped the process of printing from movable types ; and in 1452 Maso Finiguerra, 
 a Florentine jeweller, accidentally discovered that impressions might be taken 
 from engraved metal, on sulphur. A wood-cut of St. Christopher carrying the 
 infant Jesus across a stream, was made in 1423 ; and one of the Virgin Mary, 
 surrounded by female saints, bears the still earlier date of 141 8. 
 
 From this time the kindred arts of printing and engraving made rapid 
 strides, and it is by no means probable that the zenith of excellence has yet 
 been attained. 
 
 The art of engraving is naturally divisible into three branches, — wood, 
 metal, and stone, the respective technical names for which are xylography, 
 chalcography, and lithography. Of these we shall speak each under its 
 respective head. 
 
 Wood-engraving is now uniformly executed upon blocks of boxwood, cut 
 across the grain into pieces one inch thick, and planed smooth on the face. 
 Blocks of from six to eight inches square can be easily procured ; but for 
 larger subjects, two or more may be joined together. 
 
 Before executing a design on wood, the face of the block is slightly 
 covered with Chinese white, which, when dried and brushed, offers a fine 
 white surface to receive the drawing. This is either made in pencil on the 
 block, or is transferred from the original drawing by tracing. The tracing is 
 drawn with a soft pencil ; it is then placed face down upon the block, and 
 gone over with a hard pencil ; or it is transferred by " throwing down " the 
 ink from the moistened surface of another wood-cut. 
 
 Assuming that an original design is to be made, the draughtsman executes 
 
158 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 it on the prepared block, mainly with his pencil ; but when the character of 
 the work will admit, portions are executed in India ink, care being taken 
 to let each wash dry before another is applied. Wherever this method is 
 pursued, the artist afterwards must rule the surface so washed with a 
 series of fine lines in lead-pencil, otherwise the graver may wander from the 
 desired direction, and give a false and uncertain tint. The block is then 
 passed to the engraver, who cuts away all those parts of the boxwood which the 
 designer has not covered, following every line of the artist's drawing, as he 
 cuts away the whites and leaves the blacks, or, if it is an India-ink drawing, he 
 labors to reproduce the artist's effect by a judicious combination of wide or 
 narrow cuts, his degree of success being limited only by his artistic capa- 
 bilities and manual dexterity. 
 
 Another mode of engraving on wood consists in printing the ground on 
 black, while the drawing- lines, which are cut away on the block, are left 
 white in the impression. This mode is exceedingly effective for outline and 
 mathematical drawings, to which it gives a striking relief ; it is also more 
 cheaply executed. 
 
 Still another mode of engraving drawings on wood consists in the use of two, 
 three, or more blocks : the first receives the outline of the form to be produced 
 the second the tints and half-tints, while the white surface of the paper is 
 reserved for the lights. We must observe that by the aid of an exact " reg- 
 ister," the second printing is taken upon the first impression. The first block 
 gives the print the appearance of a pen sketch, and the second that of a 
 washed drawing. We have now considered the process by which two blocks 
 are used and three tones obtained, — the outline, the shadow, and the light. 
 This is the simplest mode of working ; later, by means of a greater number 
 of blocks, the tints are multiplied and numerous gradations obtained. 
 
 COPPER-PLATE ENGRAVING. 
 
 This process is diametrically opposite to that employed in wood engrav- 
 ing. In the latter, all that is to be dark in the impression is left in relief, 
 while in the former the dark lines are cut into the metal plate, and damp paper 
 is subjected to so much pressure against the plate, that it takes up the ink from 
 the hollows. Having made a correct drawing of the composition or figure 
 to be produced, the engraver transfers his design to the metal by means of an 
 exact copy on tracing-paper, which gives the outline, the strong shadows, and 
 the half-tints. This done, the artist begins to trace the outlines with a point 
 to a greater or less depth, according to the amount of light required. These 
 first strokes form the foundation of the subsequent work, and require the most 
 correct and careful drawing. 
 
 Copper-plates for engraving must be of very pure metal, and well burnished, 
 or hammered plane and polished, so as to give hardness and uniformity to 
 the surface. 
 
 Steel engraving, as now practised, is substantially the same as copper- 
 plate engraving. 
 
Reproductive Processes. 
 
 159 
 
 ETCHING. 
 
 The process of etching as at present executed is conducted as follows : — 
 The engraver first furnishes himself with a prepared plate, and after 
 heating its surface, coats it with a black varnish or wax. He then makes a 
 tracing of his drawing in gelatine and transfers it to the surface of the 
 varnish, after which he follows the traced lines with a needle, cutting 
 through the varnish to the surface of the metal. A "dam" or rim of wax is 
 then turned up around the edge of the plate, and diluted sulphuric acid is 
 poured upon it. The acid is occasionally disturbed with a soft brush, that 
 it may bite the exposed metal evenly. At length the acid and varnish are 
 washed off, and where necessary to give the requisite sharpness of detail the 
 lines are retouched with the graver, and the work is done unless re-biting be 
 necessary. 
 
 By this method, which is really one of combination, it will be seen that if 
 properly manipulated the soft tones of etched work, and the sharp effects of 
 line engraving, may be joined with admirable effect on the same plate. 
 
 MEZZOTINT ENGRAVING. 
 
 In mezzotint engraving the copper or steel plate is scraped with an instru- 
 ment called a cradle or rocking-tool, which requires careful use. It is a 
 semicircular steel instrument roughened at one end, the asperities of which 
 penetrate the surface of the metal, and produce numberless little dents, very 
 near each other. When the surface is equally indented with this rocking-tool, 
 a scraper is used to soften the ridges more or less as the lights are to be 
 stronger or fainter, and to remove them entirely when high lights are required. 
 This is quite a different operation from that employed in other kinds of 
 engraving. Instead of merely drawing all that is to appear shaded in the 
 impression, those parts only are worked which are to be removed or softened. 
 The mezzotint process gives imperfect results if not carefully managed, as 
 careless manipulation of the rocking-tool will produce spiritless and con- 
 fused effects. The transition from light to shade may so easily be slurred 
 over, that the greatest precaution is needed in order to obtain good and 
 pleasing gradations of tone. Another thing which discourages from the use 
 of mezzotint is, that the plate will not yield many impressions. After a few 
 hundred impressions have been taken from the plate, its roughness, which 
 gives tone to the impression, becomes crushed in the press, and in some 
 parts disappears altogether. 
 
 Mezzotint was invented by Von Segen, improved by Prince Rupert in 1648, 
 and by Sir Christopher Wren in 1662. 
 
 Aquatint engraving resembles mezzotint in its results, and is often con- 
 founded with it ; but it is in reality quite different. Instead of first indenting 
 the plates with the rocking-tool, the engraver begins by tracing the outline ot 
 his design on the bare plate, which he then sprinkles equally with very fine 
 sand or resin, from a sieve. Of the two, sand is preferable, as it adheres 
 readily to the plate when slightly warmed. Acid, slowly but plentifully poured 
 
i6o 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 upon the surface thus prepared, corrodes all the imperceptible spaces between 
 the grains of resin or sand, and the mass of similar and equidistant dots gives 
 a soft and harmonious appearance to the impression. The tones produced 
 resemble that of India-ink or Sepia drawings. The process was introduced 
 into England by Paul Sandby, and has been practised in this country with 
 success. 
 
 The chalk style was invented by Fran9ois and Dumarteau, although the 
 origin may be traced back to John Lutma. 
 
 The imitation by engraving of the effect of chalk on the grain of the paper, 
 allows of the multiplication of accurate and excellent fac-simile copies of the 
 handiwork of the great masters, which are very useful as models and guides 
 to young artists. 
 
 To obtain these fac-similes the engraver uses a revolving wheel, or roulette, 
 which is a small cylinder of steel turning on an axle fixed to a handle, and 
 proportioned to the size of the stroke about to be produced. The outer part 
 of this little wheel is covered with sharp teeth, which bite into the varnished 
 copper in several places at once. When the aquafortis has acted on this first 
 work, the artist, with the same instrument, retouches on the bare copper those 
 parts which he wishes to mark more strongly. A tool with the end unequally 
 roughened, which produces similar effects to the roulette, is sometimes used. 
 To give the appearance of drawing in red or bistre, the greater number of 
 Francois and Dumarteau's engravings were printed in red or brown. 
 
 Lithography, or the art of printing from stone, was invented by Aloys Sene- 
 felder, at Munich, about the end of the eighteenth century. It consists first 
 in writing and drawing on the stone with the pen, the brush, the graver, and 
 the crayon, or in transferring to the stone writings and drawings made 
 with pen and brush on transfer paper, or impressions from copper, steel, 
 and pewter plates taken on a coated paper, and then in printing from the 
 stone the writings or drawings thus made upon it. 
 
 The principles of the art are these : An unctuous composition having been 
 made to adhere to a calcareo-argillaceous stone, those parts covered by it — 
 i. e. the writing or drawing — acquire the power of receiving printing-ink; 
 while those parts not so covered are prevented from so doing by the interpo- 
 sition of water. An absorbent paper is laid on the stone, and when subjected 
 to strong pressure, copies are obtained. 
 
 The best lithographic stones are found at Kelheim and Solenhofen, near 
 Pappenheim on the Danube, and in Bavaria ; but they have been found, also, 
 in Silesia, England, France, Canada, and the West Indies. These stones are 
 composed of lime, clay, and silicious earth, and are of various hues, from a 
 pale yellowish white to a light buff, reddish, pearl-gray, light gray, blue, and 
 greenish color. Those of uniform color are the best. The buff ones are 
 soft, and are adapted for lettering and transfer; the pearl-gray ones are harder, 
 and are used for chalk-drawings and engravings. 
 
 The stones are ground plane with sand, and when intended for the pen, 
 the brush, the graver, or transfer, they are polished with pumice and water- 
 of-Ayr stone. An artificial grain is given by ground glass or fine sand. 
 
Reproductive Processes, 
 
 i6i 
 
 When any writing or drawing upon stone is to be etched, a mixture of two 
 parts of nitric acid and from forty to sixty parts of dissolved gum-arabic is 
 poured over the stone once or several times, according to the nature of the 
 work. The etching changes the nature of the stone, raising the work on it 
 to a degree scarcely perceptible to the naked eye. The writing or drawing, 
 which has been effected by greasy tnk or chalk, is protected from the action 
 of the acid, and the protected parts retain the qualification of receiving 
 printing-ink which is the natural property of the stone. When the printer 
 wets the stone before applying the inking-roller, the water enters only those 
 parts of the stone which have been affected by the acid, while the ink adheres 
 only to those parts, however fine, on which the acid cannot operate, owing 
 to the composition of the ink or chalk with which the drawing or writing has 
 been done, and which, being greasy, rejects the water. 
 
 When the drawing or writing with ink on a polished stone is completed, 
 the etching is proceeded with, and a portion of the etching composition is 
 allowed to dry on the stone. The printer then adjusts his stone on the 
 press, washes off the dried gum, removes the whole drawing or writing with 
 turpentine, wets the stone with a sponge or damping canvas, then applies 
 his inked roller and rolls it several times over the stone till the lines appear 
 again. When sufficient ink has been applied to the lines, the paper is laid 
 on the stone, drawn through the press, and the impressions are taken. The 
 damping and inking of the stone are renewed for every impression. 
 
 Chalk-drawings are done on the ground-stone with chemical chalk, with 
 the stump and scraper, and sharp inked lines. If boldly and systematically 
 treated, by giving the effect first and detail afterward, richness and softness 
 of appearance will be produced and a great many impressions may be taken. 
 
 Tinted drawings, chromo-lithographs, and colored maps require as many 
 stones — grained or polished — as there are various tints or colors, one stone 
 being printed after the other, and so fitted and blended together as even- 
 tually to produce the desired effect. 
 
 From the foregoing it will be clearly seen that the more the talent of the 
 artist and the skill of the artisan are combined in one person, so much the 
 more surely will he succeed in any of the forms of reproductive art. An 
 exquisitely drawn block that has fallen into the hands of an expert engraver, 
 of long experience, may not have when engraved the effect intended ; for if 
 the engraver follows each line with all the fidelity of an unthinking machine, 
 the result will be hard, spiritless, and unmeaning. The same block in the 
 hands of a less expert engraver, who has some artistic taste and training, 
 may be cut in such a manner as to preserve the draughtsman's sentiment 
 and produce a more pleasing effect, though in a strictly mechanical sense it 
 may be a mediocre engraving. 
 
 Happily, art education is now coming within the reach of all ; and as soon 
 as its advantages are more generally appreciated and accepted, there can be 
 no doubt that it will do much to elevate and refine mankind. 
 
 21 
 
7 he Antefix Papers. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 THE APPLICATION OF PHOTOGRAPHY TO 
 ENGRAVING. 
 
 Although our ancestors of the eighteenth century quote, as a matter 
 known in their childhood and recognized as an undeniable fact, that the sun 
 " made linen white and maidens dun," another matter, not less important, 
 seems to have escaped their observation until towards the latter part of that 
 century, /. e. the peculiar effect of light on compounds containing silver. 
 
 The first philosophical examination of this effect was made by Scheele in 
 1777) "while trying the effect of the different rays in the solar spectrum on 
 nitrate of silver, then luna cornea. By arranging a glass prism in a window^ 
 and throwing the refracted rays on a paper covered with luna cornea, he not 
 only found that the substance was changed in color, but that the different 
 rays differed in degree of action, the violet rays being the most active. 
 
 In 1802 Wedge wood published an account of experiments leading directly 
 to the successful results since attained. He saturated white paper or leather 
 with nitrate of silver, and exposed it in the camera, or under leaves of trees 
 and wings of insects. The result was that the objects kept the part covered 
 by them white, while the parts exposed to the light became darkened. Thus 
 a most successful picture was formed ; but alas for the instabihty of chemical 
 things ! no means were found to preserve the white, and when once the opaque 
 body was removed, all became black together. Sir John Herschel and 
 Dr. Fox Talbot were as eager as Wedgewood to find some bath that would 
 make the ghost a tangible presence, and Sir John Herschel found it in hypo- 
 sulphate of soda. 
 
 In 1 8 14, M. Niepce, of France, afterwards the partner of the well-known 
 Daguerre, produced the first permanent pictures by solar radiation, perma- 
 nent in a very temporary sense, as experience has taught us. He coated 
 plated silver or glass with a varnish of asphaltum dissolved in oil of lavender, 
 drying without light or moisture ; he then exposed it in the camera from 
 four to six hours. At first a faint image alone was visible. This was devel- 
 oped by immersion in oil of lavender and white petroleum, and subsequently 
 washed and dried. 
 
 Daguerre went back to the old process of using a silver compound, think- 
 
Application of Photography to Engraving. 163 
 
 ing Niepce's process too slow. To think now of photographs taken only 
 after a sitting of six hours, is to bless Daguerre for his dissatisfaction ! But 
 to M. Niepce belongs honor for another reason, which places him on a 
 plane fully as high as that on which M. Daguerre stands, although his name 
 has failed to attach itself to any special process. This is the honor of origi- 
 nating the idea of a printing-plate, which, by photographic process, would 
 give an indefinite number of truly permanent impressions. He discovered, 
 during his many experiments previous to 1827, that thin plates of bitumen 
 were curiously affected by light ; so he coated metal plates with a thin layer 
 of this substance, and exposed them in a camera for several hours ; the 
 plate was then submitted to the action of oil of spike, which dissolved the 
 parts not acted on by light, but acted little on the rest. In this case the 
 part dissolved represented the dark parts of the picture, and the remaining 
 the light parts. Acid was then applied, which acted on the uncovered metal, 
 but not on the bitumen, as in etching. The objection to this plan, if success- 
 ful in manipulation, must have been that it would produce pictures with harsh 
 contrasts, the dark parts being of too uniform depth, and middle tints hardly 
 expressed, save by subsequent finishing by hand, would offset a process in- 
 volving more labor than the gain by photography. 
 
 In 1837 Mr. Fineau used certain acids in a daguerreotype picture which 
 attacked the dark parts of the picture in greater or less degree, according to 
 the intensity of the shade. He did not obtain sufficient erosion to print from 
 the plate, but he ingeniously deepened the engraved parts by oiling the whole 
 plate, wiping off the surface oil and allov/ing the engraved parts to remain 
 filled with it, and then electroplating with gold until the required depth was 
 obtained. The plate was then boiled in an alkaline solution to remove the 
 oil, and being too soft for printing purposes, was afterwards electrotyped. 
 
 In the year 1839 Ponton found that bichromate of potash contains chromic 
 acid, and that chromic acid, when combined with organic matter, is reduced 
 from a high oxide of the metal chromium to a low, and that the oxygen with 
 which it is combined becomes united with the organic substance. He experi- 
 mented on paper successfully. In 1840 Becquerel claimed that the size on 
 the paper caused the effect, and Dr. Talbot first decided gelatine to be a 
 superior substance for the reduction ; he also found that the gelatine, by the 
 pi-ocess, became tough and insoluble. Subsequent experiments in photo- 
 graphic engraving rest on this principle. 
 
 Knight says, that Joseph Dixon, of Jersey City, was the first to use organic 
 matter and bichromate of potash for lithography. Poitevin was the first to 
 discover that the organic matter, under the influence of the bichromate and 
 acted on by light, would receive ink from a greasy roller. In 1856 he 
 patented a process which consisted in coating a stone with a layer of gela- 
 tine and bichromate, and exposing it to a luminous object. The parts acted 
 on by light become insoluble and refuse water, while the parts not acted on 
 by light absorb it. In turn the parts refusing water receive the greasy ink, 
 and the moist parts refuse it. One objection to this process lay in the fact 
 that if the impression were taken from a positive picture, the stone would 
 
164 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 exhibit a negative, and if printed from a negative, the Hght and shade would 
 be right, but the right side would exchange places with the left, reversing the 
 position of the picture. Also, as the gelatine absorbed the water before the 
 application of the ink, it became swollen, raising the surface above the non- 
 absorbing parts, and thus the dark portions which needed the strongest action 
 of the press received the least, while the moist parts were easily crushed and 
 destroyed. On this account this process has been little used. 
 
 Dr. Talbot, in 1852, and again in 1858, patented a process called photo- 
 glyphic engraving. This consisted in dipping a steel plate into a solution of 
 sulphuric and acetic acids, and then coating it with a solution of gelatine and 
 bichromate of potash, to receive the image. The effect was the same as that 
 resulting from Poitevin's experiment ; but instead of printing from the gela- 
 tine, he found that a weak solution of bichloride of platina would eat through 
 the gelatine where the light had not acted, biting the steel plate. He there- 
 fore removed the gelatine when the etching was sufficiently deep, and his 
 plate was ready for use. 
 
 Mr. W. E. Newton substituted gum and sugar for the gelatine, and used 
 a lithographic stone. He exposes the coated stone under a negative which 
 affects it in much the same way as the gelatine. He then removes the solu- 
 ble portion by washing with a solution of soap, which also has the effect of 
 giving a good surface to the remainder for receiving the ink. while in Talbot's 
 process the etched portion of the plate underneath the soluble gelatine 
 receives the ink, and forms the dark part of the final picture. In Newton's 
 process the insoluble parts receive the ink and furnish the shades ; hence 
 in the first case the impression comes from the image, in the second from the 
 negative. Attempts have been made to apply photography to wood-engrav- 
 ing, which, although ingenious, have given no practical results, either imme- 
 diate or probable ; so I pass them by. 
 
 M. Pretsch, of Vienna, has invented a method called galvanography, de- 
 pendent on the same principles estabhshed by Ponton, Poitevin, and Talbot. 
 He coats a glass in the same way, with the same results, and obtains his 
 picture in relief, the parts which absorb water rising above the insoluble dark 
 parts. From the image thus formed a gutta-percha mould is made, and from 
 this mould an electrotype copper-plate is formed. 
 
 In the Woodbury process, the same gelatine picture in relief is placed under 
 a sheet of soft metal and subjected to great pressure, the metal giving the 
 form in reversed relief and depression. This mould is then filled with colored 
 gelatine, the paper on which the picture is desired is placed over it, and a 
 level pressure brought to bear on the paper, which removes all superfluous 
 gelatine. The depressed parts, which represent the dark parts of the picture, 
 retain the most gelatine and color ; and when the paper lifts the gelatine 
 from the mould, a picture in almost imperceptible relief is left on it, but with 
 decided differences of shade. This method was used in illustrating the 
 *' Medical and Surgical History of the War " " with excellent results." 
 Hitherto the process has been applied only to small pictures. 
 
 With nearly similar results, but by quite a different process, we obtain 
 
Application of Photography to Engraving. 165 
 
 carbon-prints. In the Woodbury process it will be seen that the first-formed 
 picture must be negative, or, rather, taken from a positive, since the raised 
 parts in that must correspond to the depressions in the mould, or the dark 
 parts in the final picture ; but in the carbons the impression is taken from 
 the negative, the picture itself being positive »in regard to light and shade, 
 but reversed in position. The impression is taken on paper coated with 
 bichromate of potash and gelatine, with which has been mixed some pigment, 
 as carbon. It will be seen that the light, acting through the light parts of 
 the negative, affects the sensitive surface beneath, — probably through its 
 entire thickness, — but in the most opaque parts the character is not 
 changed, and therefore it remains perfectly soluble, while in the intermediate 
 parts it is affected to a depth precisely in proportion to the intensity of the 
 shade. But we have no picture, — only a sheet of blackened gelatine, and 
 to bring it out we must remove the under surface of unaffected gelatine 
 with the accompanying color. At first this was done by washing the pic- 
 ture in hot water ; but the insoluble part, being nearest the paper, on being 
 dissolved, left the upper surface, detached from the paper, floating on the 
 water. To prevent this, the paper, before the application of hot water, is 
 firmly glued, face downward, on another paper, which fixes the insoluble parts 
 on the second paper ; then hot water is applied, which detaches the first 
 paper, and thus brings the soluble parts to the surface, where they also are 
 washed away. Mr. Edwards says, It is difficult to conceive that anything 
 can be finer than Braun's reproductions of the paintings in the Sistine 
 Chapel ; and each one of these consists of a film of bichromated gelatine, 
 in which any convenient coloring matter is imprisoned." 
 
 Knight considers Osborne's process of photo-lithography the first thor- 
 oughly successful one. This is in use, with slight modifications, for gov- 
 ernment work both in England and America. It was first patented and used 
 in Australia, in 1859, for the preparation of maps for the Crown Land Surveys. 
 Osborne combines the bichromated gelatine with albumen ; he obtains the 
 usual results by exposure to the negative, but instead of applying water at 
 once to remove the soluble parts, he covers the whole surface with a litho- 
 graphic transfer-ink, then floats the sheet, ink side up, on hot water ; by this 
 process the albumen thickens and forms a supporting film, which assists the 
 manipulation of the sheet during transfer. The gelatine as before swells where 
 not affected by hght, and a picture in relief is obtained. Light and shade are 
 gained by removing the superfluous ink, which is repelled by the water-absorb- 
 ing parts. The precise method pursued by Osborne at this point I have not 
 been able to learn, but the Southampton method, nearly if not quite identical 
 with his, and patented by M. Asser of Amsterdam at nearly the same time, 
 is as follows : The print is removed from the water to a glass plate, hot 
 water is poured gently over it, and the soluble gelatine is removed by careful 
 rubbing with a soft sponge, soaking and rubbing until every particle has dis- 
 appeared. The print is well washed in cold water and dried ; it is laid face 
 downwards, when thoroughly dry, on a previously prepared warm lithographic 
 stone, slightly damped on the upper surface ; papers are laid upon it, and the 
 
The Antefix Papefs, 
 
 whole is passed several times through a press, each time with added force, 
 until the impression is hrmly fixed to the stone ; all superfluous matter is then 
 removed, the stone is slightly etched (to prevent the spreading of lines) by 
 weak nitric acid, and the stone is ready for the press. It seems plain that 
 this method may give firm lines, but can give no fine gradation of tint, which 
 is necessary to a good picture ; hence this process is specially adapted to the 
 very work to which it is now extensively applied, — plans and maps. 
 
 We find, then, that the chief obstacles in the way of all the processes save 
 Woodbury's and the carbon printing, is, that on the removal of the soluble 
 gelatine, whether the remainder is used to print from immediately or is used 
 for the formation of a mould, there is always the same harshness of contrast. 
 When the swollen gelatine is allowed to remain, the depressions which receive 
 the ink, and specially require the action of the press, fail to receive it, while the 
 swollen parts, by constant absorption of moisture and extra wear in the press, 
 become crushed and useless after a few impressions. 
 
 Carbon printing gives us the desired results in these respects, but by its 
 means we obtain pictures slowly, one at a time, the impression being taken 
 each time, and the whole process of fixing, glueing, and washing gone over 
 with each picture. The Woodbury type necessarily repeats the whole pro- 
 cess subsequent to the formation of the mould with each picture, and so 
 neither of these processes can be used for the very rapid multiplication of 
 pictures, however good they may be. 
 
 Attempts at improvement were made by using a very thin layer of gelatine, 
 but the gelatine was easily crushed and the pictures weak. 
 
 Albert of Munich mounted the bichromated gelatine on a glass plate, and 
 subjected it throughout to the action of light, so that the whole sheet became 
 insoluble ; then over this he placed a very thin layer to receive the impres- 
 sion. Thus he hoped to make a strong film, without the undesirable relief. 
 The glass was liable to fracture ; but Mr. Edwards says, that although the 
 pictures were wanting in strength and robustness, he was convinced, on see- 
 ing them, that in that direction lay the future of permanent photographic 
 printing. Thereupon he discovers a means of doing without the glass, and 
 also of obviating the difficulty about the swelling of the gelatine ; he finds 
 that the gelatine is affected by chrome alum, and that it is converted into an 
 insoluble substance, by the action of light ; he also finds that the alum in no 
 way interferes with the action of light on the bichromated gelatine, and yet 
 that the parts unacted on by light retain the power of taking sufficient water to 
 repel grease, — at the same time producing no relief that interferes with perfect 
 printing. The gelatine can be sufficiently thick and tough to allow from i,ooo 
 to 1,500 impressions to be made from one plate without loss of quality. Common 
 cooking gelatine is dissolved in hot water, bichromate of potash and chrome 
 alum added, and the solution poured on a plate of glass or slate which has 
 been previously rubbed with wax dissolved in ether, to prevent the too close 
 adhesion of the mixture. The plate must be kept, as in all previous cases, 
 from the actinic rays of light until exposed under the negative. Deep orange 
 glass is recommended in the drying-room. When dry, the sheet is detached 
 
Application of Photography to Engraving. 167 
 
 from the plate and placed in contact with a reversed negative, which contact 
 can be established more perfectly and with less troubfe than when the film is 
 mounted. When the impression is sufficiently strong, the film is placed 
 under water, with a metal plate suitable to print from (nickelled steel, zinc, 
 and pewter are named), and when the water has expelled the air between 
 them, the "squeegee" removes the water, and the film is firmly held to the 
 plate by atmospheric pressure. This squeegee is simply a strip of rubber in 
 a wooden frame, which, by a slight, quick pressure across the film, removes 
 every particle of water and air that may prevent a firm union to the plate. 
 The plate is then soaked in water to remove the bichromate, so that light 
 can no further affect the film, and is ready for the press. The film can at 
 any time be removed from the plate, and, when required, replaced with 
 little trouble either of storage or labor. In inking another improvement 
 has been made, which is claimed "to give a value to heliotype printing 
 possessed by no other method of printing in existence." " If," says Mr. 
 Edwards, " in inking one of these plates, we use what is called a very stiff 
 ink, we shall find that it will adhere only to the deepest shadows : if we use 
 a very thin ink, we shall succeed in printing the delicate half tones, but shall 
 no longer get depth in the shadows. My method is to get two or more inks 
 of different intensities in succession, — to begin with a stiff ink and continue 
 with a thinner. To produce different effects, the colors of these may be 
 varied ; as, for instance, black in the stiff ink, and above this a thinner pur- 
 ple or brown, which will give us the half tones." It should be stated that 
 the surface of the plate must be damped previous to each inking, and a good 
 effect is obtained by damping with water slightly tinted. After inking with 
 a roller of gelatine or rubber, a matting is placed around the part which is to 
 be printed, the paper on which the print is to be left is placed above it, and a 
 vertical pressure is brought to bear on the plate. On removing the paper, 
 the picture has a clear margin, owing to the matting, and all the trouble of 
 subsequent mounting is dispensed with. This is a great advantage as regards 
 cheapness, and also because it gives an even surface for book illustration, to 
 which the process seems specially adapted. As with all photographic im- 
 pressions, color cannot be truly expressed, neither can engravings discolored 
 by age be effectively reproduced. Pictures dependent on light and shade 
 and form can be well represented. Mr. Edwards thinks it probable that 
 there will be a " distinct class of artists who will translate color into light 
 and shade " for this very purpose. 
 
i68 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 GLASS — CAST, CUT, AND ENGRAVED. 
 
 When glass was first made or invented is unknown, although Pliny tells us 
 of its accidental discovery by some travellers in Syria. Having made a fire 
 on the shores of the river Belus, its heat incorporated the salts contained in 
 the herb kali with some of the sand of the shore, and formed glass, which 
 was then observed for the first time. Other authorities, some of them noted 
 chemists, say that the possible quantity of heat so generated could not have 
 "jproduced such a result, for in our days it can only be brought about by fur- 
 naces constructed for the purpose. It is difficult to reahze how sand could 
 have become so fusible, no matter how soft the flux or alkali might have been 
 which happened to incorporate itself with it. Other materials, however, 
 might have produced such an effect under similar circumstances. 
 
 Borax can be melted in a crucible in a common stove, with a hot fire, 
 and when poured out and left to cool will form a clear and transparent glass^ 
 but not a durable one ; lead, in the state of an oxide, fused with it, will also form 
 a yellow glass. The words " transparent glass " have been used, but glass ware 
 is not always so : opal glass, for instance, is so much like porcelain that it 
 is difficult to tell the difference, and it is in consequence often called porcelain 
 glass ; jet black glass is often and easily made, and we all kno-w that bits of 
 glass of different colors have been used in mosaics from very early times. 
 
 Scott also tells us that glass-making dates from far beyond the historic period, 
 and that curious things can now be seen in museums which were in request by 
 the Egyptians, proving that the vitrifaction of colored substances is as old as 
 the pyramids ; other curious objects, found in the Catacombs-, are also pre- 
 served in the Vatican at Rome. The celebrated Portland vase is a magnifi;- 
 cent specimen of ancient glass. The Greeks are supposed to have engraved 
 on glass, and to have known the use of the wheel used for cutting it, and many 
 specimens of ancient glass with raised figures are preserved, which were 
 probably moulded. 
 
 Glass was made at Venice as early as the twelfth century. 
 
 From early times to the sixteenth century, glass-moulding was unknown j 
 at this time, however. Carillon reinvented the iron mould, and bottles of glass 
 thus shaped were made in sufficient quantities to replace the leather ones 
 previously imported from England. 
 
Glass — Cast, Cut, and Engraved. 
 
 169 
 
 Before glass can be moulded, it must be in a molten state : that is, its 
 ingredients must be in a thoroughly fused condition, and in a hquid form of 
 sufficient consistency to be conveniently worked. Red lead and fine sand are 
 important ingredients in making superior glass ; the lead must be pure, and 
 as this is somewhat difficult to obtain, large manufacturers find it cheaper to 
 oxidize their own lead ; this is a very unhealthy part of their business, and 
 workmen engaged in it live but a few years after making it their vocation. 
 
 The sand used by some of our manufacturers comes from Berkshire 
 County, in the Western part of this State. Lime and oyster-shells are used 
 in making cheap glass, but no lead, and it is called lime or oyster-shell glass, 
 as the case may be. Glass without any lead in it cannot very well be used 
 for cutting, as it is dense and smooth, and being naturally soft, grinds 
 away easily at the touch of the cutting-wheel ; it is, however, capable of a 
 very fine polish. The materials for making glass are put into clay vessels 
 with dome-shaped tops, larger at the top than at the bottom, circular in sec- 
 tion, and with height greater than their diameter ; an aperture near the top, 
 which projects like an attic-window from the roof of a house, is used both 
 for putting in raw material and taking out the molten glass. These pots 
 are from one to three feet in height and two to three inches in thickness, the 
 bottoms being four inches thick. These pots are placed in a furnace called a 
 cone, circular in form and running upward like a very wide chimney. The 
 fire in this furnace is kept at a white heat ; the pots are placed around the 
 inside, the apertures opening outward. When the material is thoroughly 
 fused and ready for use, a workman, called the gatherer, stands before the 
 hole, and gathers on the end of an iron blow-pipe a quantity of the molten 
 glass ; this he passes to another workman, who, by swinging or by other 
 movement, works it into an ovoid or spherical shape, according to the shape 
 of the article to be made ; it is then put into a hinged iron mould, with long 
 handles attached. After the glass, which is still attached to the blowing-iron, 
 is put into the mould, it is closed, the blower blows through the hollow iron 
 tube, until the glass is blown outward and into the crevices of the mould. 
 It of course instantly cools and becomes solid. It is then taken from the 
 mould, freed from the blowing-iron, and carried into the annealing furnace. 
 By sinking it into the mould, elaborate designs can be made to appear in 
 relief on the moulded glass. Glassware made in this way is often over- 
 loaded with ornament, as it is as cheap to cover the surface entirely as to 
 cover it partially. This kind of work is sometimes mistaken by many for 
 genuine cut-glass. The difference can, however, be easily discovered by the 
 round edges of the moulded ornament, and the sharp and decided ones of the 
 cut ; and again, the moulded glassware shows the seams of the mould, as a 
 mould which opens and shuts on hinges, however tight the joints may be 
 made, will show seams on any moulded article. To obviate this, wooden 
 moulds have been introduced, and are used where they can be to advantage, 
 in the same way as iron ones. To make it practicable to use the wooden 
 mould, it is kept immersed in water, and dipped into it every time an article 
 is made. The glass is put into this mould and blown in the same way as in 
 22 
 
170 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 the iron one, with this difference : the blower turns the tube round as he 
 blows through it, the seams running vertically and the movement of the arti- 
 cle being horizontal. Every trace of a seam is thus destroyed. Articles 
 made in this way are as good as those blown without a mould. All cylin- 
 drical, conical, ovoid, or spherical shapes, or these mixed, can be so made, 
 such as bottles, globe-shades for gas, cone-shades, lamp-chimneys, and a 
 variety of other things. 
 
 The art of cutting glass is believed to have been invented by Caspar Lehman, 
 who took out a patent in 1 609. He was in the service of the Emperor Rodolph, 
 and was lapidary and glass-cutter to the Court. Before this time figures 
 had been admirably engraved upon glass by the use of diamonds. Even 
 at a later period, in 1760, Wedgewood imitated the Portland vase, already 
 alluded to, by the same method. Another method also seems to have 
 been known of cutting glass by means of emery powder and sharp-pointed 
 tools. Glass-cutting by our present method was not of much importance 
 until the end of the seventeenth century. It is done by vertical wheels of 
 different substances, turned by hand, steam, or water power. Four kinds of 
 wheels are successively used. The first wheel is iron, and cuts or grinds 
 the design very roughly upon the glass. Sand and water drop upon this 
 wheel from ^ a trough above. This trough is often in the shape of an 
 inverted pyramid, the water and sand dropping out of it at its apex. 
 The best cutter or workman is employed in this stage, as the draw- 
 ing or shaping of the design has to be done ; the work done afterwards is 
 merely smoothing, and little or no artistic skill is required. The wheel next 
 used is made of sandstone, and water only is used upon it ; the third is made 
 of willow-wood, on which emery and putty are used ; the fourth and last, 
 which is made of cork, is used with putty only, to put on a very fine polish ; 
 this putty is an oxide of tin and lead. Ornamenting glass by this method 
 is the most useful and perhaps the most elegant ; for nearly every piece of 
 glassware can be thus improved in appearance. Its application is very wide. 
 Upon flint glass ornamentation has scarcely any limits. 
 
 Cutting makes glass very brilliant : the ornament is sharp, the outlines are 
 well defined, and the designs may be of great artistic value. Articles are 
 often made of glass composed of different layers or coats, and each of these 
 coats may be of a different color, which, when cut through, shows an out- 
 line of various colored threads. When the glass is evenly coated, as it 
 always ought to be, these threads are marvellously true. When two coats only 
 are blown, the first one is cut through, leaving the ornament of one color, 
 while the glass forming the ground is of another. It has not been definitely 
 ascertained when small wheels were first used for engraving ; but as cutting 
 and engraving have always been done at the same period, and in similar ways, 
 it seems that the use of wheels in one case might have suggested the use ot 
 them in the other. The copper wheels now used for engraving, are from three 
 inches to one quarter of an inch in diameter, and even less ; some seem to be 
 merely a point. Copper is considered the best material to make them of, as it 
 is not too hard or harsh to the glass, and yet is hard enough to make every 
 
Glass — ' Cast, Cut, and Engraved. 
 
 171 
 
 impression necessary upon it. The wheels, as in cutting, are placed ver- 
 tically, and are run by foot or other power ; oil and emery are used on the 
 wheels. In cheap work the forms or designs are roughly ground upon the 
 glass without the least attempt at modelling, often leaving the outline rough 
 and ill defined ; in finer and more expensive work the modelling is done more 
 carefully, and the work is much smoother and more polished. It is surprising 
 what fine work can be done with circular tools. Figures can be executed on a 
 very small scale, and great attention is sometimes paid to the engraving of 
 animals. The slender form of a greyhound, distinctly showing the anatomy, 
 has been engraved on a space of about three quarters of an inch in diameter. 
 Though all figures are sunk, they have the appearance of being in relief. 
 
 A new method of engraving on glass was made known in 1771, and was 
 published as one of Scheele's experiments. Schwanard, however, had dis- 
 covered it before, but had never made the process known. It is by etching, 
 and is properly so called ; in this country it is called embossing. The pro- 
 cess is simple, and very much like copper-plate etching. 
 
 As it is well known fluoric acid will dissolve glass, it is generally kept in rub- 
 ber or leaden bottles ; a paint is mixed with it. The proportions of the mixture 
 are kept secret, each individual using a somewhat different mixture. Asphal- 
 tum and red lead are the principal ingredients. Etching on glass may be 
 done in two different ways. The glass to be etched may be covered with the 
 mixture, or color as it is called in the workshops ; the design is then scratched 
 through the color with a sharp instrument, leaving the glass bare where the 
 tool has passed over it ; it is then immersed in fluoric acid, where it remains 
 for a short time. During this time it should be carefully watched, and taken 
 from the acid before the glass is too much eaten away. • The color is then 
 washed off" the glass with spirits of turpentine and sawdust ; the raised surface 
 of the glass may then be roughened by rubbing it over with emery powder 
 and water, leaving it white and somewhat opaque, while the ornament remains 
 clear. Another way, and the best where it can be done, is to trace the design 
 upon the glass with a camel's-hair pencil well loaded with color, and subject 
 it to the same treatment as before. In this case the ornament will be raised, 
 and, after the roughing process, white, the glass or ground remaining clear. 
 
 If the ornament is traced round, and filled in with color, it will be sunk. 
 The ground will then be rough, and the figure clear. This process is well 
 adapted for large work, such as lights for windows and doors, as it gives 
 the designer a fine chance for bold treatment, and teaches the good workman 
 to draw bold curves, which he does with surprising accuracy. The parts of the 
 glass left clear may be made dull by using acid prepared for that purpose. 
 Such glass freely admits light, but cannot be seen through ; this quahty makes 
 it very desirable for vestibule doors, which are exposed to the street. This 
 ornamental work, which is very beautiful and durable, can be damaged only 
 by cutting into the glass. It is very expensive, however; wherefore common 
 cut lights, which are cheaper, are sometimes used instead. Ornamentation 
 is not only applied to flat glass, but also to a variety of round objects, such 
 as globe shades for gas chandeliers, cone-shades, lamp-chimneys, and table- 
 
1/2 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 ware. Glass shades of all descriptions are imported from England, France, 
 and Germany, and are considered very beautiful. German work is the 
 cheapest. 
 
 It will, perhaps, not be out of place to mention another method of ornament- 
 ing flat glass, which gives it somewhat the same appearance as if it were 
 embossed, though it is very inferior, being done on cheap glass, while em- 
 bossing is always done on plate glass. A mixture is made of lampblack, 
 whiting, and a little gum-arabic, and with it the design is traced on the glass ; 
 a white pigment is then laid on, covering the surface of the glass evenly ; 
 it is then placed in a kiln, and the white burnt in. Burning, however, does 
 not fasten the black mixture to the glass, for it is easily rubbed off when it 
 comes out of the kiln, leaving the ornament bright and clear. It has been 
 done for years by the means of stencil plates, which are used to lay on the 
 mixture. The article is cheap and durable, but does not look well. 
 
Pottery and Porcelain. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 POTTERY AND PORCELAIN. 
 
 Pottery is classed as hard and soft paste. Hard paste is that which 
 cannot be scratched with a knife ; it is opaque and translucent, and is divided 
 into fine earthenware and stoneware. 
 
 Fine earthenware is composed of a white paste, made out of plastic clay, 
 silex, and lime ; its glassy glaze is of lead. It is fired at a temperature of 
 25°-ioo°,* and glazed at a still lower temperature. This class includes 
 Palissy's and Wedgewood's fine earthenwares. 
 
 Stoneware is composed of the same ingredients, with the addition of stone- 
 ware cement. The glaze is of sea salt, or lead, or slag from a furnace. The 
 salt glaze is applied but once, the lead twice. The firing requires a temper- 
 ature of ioo°-2oo°, and extends from four to eight days. 
 
 Under the head of translucent hard paste is included Wedgewood's English 
 soft porcelain. Its material is kaolin, clay, and bones, glazed with red lead, 
 borax, soda, and flint glass. 
 
 Soft paste is classed as unglazed, including Wedgewood's imitation of 
 Etruscan vases ; and glazed, — mezzo and true Majolica, which latter includes 
 Delia Robbia ware. This ware is composed of argillaceous marl, sand, and 
 potter's clay ; it is colored or whitish, and of earthy fracture ; the glaze is 
 plumbiferous or stanniferous. It is first baked at a temperature of 675°, and 
 again after the application of the enamel, as it is difiicult to lay it upon crude 
 paste. 
 
 It will be noticed that hard paste generally requires a lower temperature 
 than soft paste ; and it is called soft porcelain, because it will not bear more 
 than a certain temperature without softening. Silex is used to make the clay 
 firm and keep it from cracking, and when in the form of calcined flints, to 
 impart translucency. 
 
 All raw materials for fictile work must alike be reduced to a fine state of self- 
 division, and the paste as a whole must be homogeneous, in order to secure 
 uniform shrinkage. This is done by cutting and grinding the materials, and 
 then washing them until in a state of suspension. The paste when solidified 
 
 * The degrees given are according to Wedgewood's pyrometer, which are to those of Fahrenheit as 
 1 : 7 nearly. 
 
174 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 is beaten and kneaded until it is homogeneous, and the air is expelled from 
 it. It is then ready to be formed. If the clay is to take a circular or cylin- 
 drical shape, it is placed in the middle of the potter's wheel (invented 1700 
 B. C), a horizontal table to which a rotary motion is imparted, while the pot- 
 ter shapes it with his fingers, and with an iron of an inverse outline to that of 
 the exterior surface of the object, at the same time hollowing out the interior. 
 When objects are decorated with raised or incised ornament, the clay is rolled 
 out and pressed in a mould of gypsum or some other material. By means of 
 moulds, cameos, statuary, and Palissy raised work are made. When objects 
 are ready for the kiln, they are usually placed in seggars, or protecting cases, 
 set one above another, to exclude ashes and smoke. To secure as far as 
 possible this latter object, the air for a pottery fire is admitted from above. 
 Notwithstanding these precautions, however, about one fourth of the pottery 
 baked at one time, is distorted or otherwise rendered unfit for sale. 
 
 " Porcelain painting is an art closely allied to that of glass painting, 
 the effect being entirely restricted, however, to reflected light, as the semi- 
 opacity of the ware forbids the use of all transparent colors. The pigments 
 are either metallic oxides or enamels and glasses, colored by proper oxides 
 and ground to a fine powder. When it is remembered that the desired tints 
 of color appear only after firing, it will be understood that porcelain painting 
 involves artistic difficulties unknown to the miniature painter. Many of the 
 pigments produce their appropriate tints at a far less intense temperature than 
 that of the baking kiln, while others form compounds so fusible with the 
 materials of the glaze that they flow at a temperature below that required 
 to fuse others. This fact divides the pigments into the easily fusible colors 
 (technically called muffle colors because they require to be fired in an oven 
 or earthenware box, called a muffle), and refractory colors, or those which will 
 stand the utmost heat of the kiln. The latter may be put on with the glaze, or 
 beneath it on the biscuit surface without injuring the smoothness, brilliancy, 
 or hardness of the glaze, while the muffle colors require oxide of lead to make 
 them act well, and are always elevated above the glazed surface ; they are 
 sensibly felt as a raised surface, and are more easily worn away. The refractory 
 colors are blue with cobalt ; green with chrome ; brown with oxide of iron, oxide 
 of manganese, and perchromate of iron ; yellow with oxide of titanium, and 
 black with oxide of uranium : all are applied with silicate of potash or soda, as a 
 flux. Violets, reds, and browns of manganese, copper, and iron are refractory 
 colors for hard pottery, though muffle colors for soft pottery. Gold, which is 
 apphed to porcelain in the state of fine powder (precipitated by sulphate of 
 iron from its solutions), is made to adhere to the glaze by the addition of 
 oxide of bismuth, rubbed up with thick oil or turpentine. The bismuth oxide 
 fuses with the glaze and causes the gold to adhere so firmly, that it can be 
 burnished with an agate. Silver and platinum may also be applied." 
 
 The process of applying refractory colors is this : When the piece, trans- 
 formed by a first firing into biscuit, has been dipped in the liquid glaze, it is 
 left to dry ; then upon the hardened surface the artist traces the figures and 
 ornaments which he desires in vitrifiable colors. This painting upon the raw 
 
Pottery and Porcelain. 
 
 175 
 
 glaze requires great manual dexterity, for it is almost impossible to retouch 
 upon a substance which when rubbed scales off and dissolves in water. 
 Placed in seggars with tripods, the ware receives its second firing, which 
 incorporates the painting with the glaze, and gives a softness which no other 
 process can impart. After a second firing, one can paint, efface, and retouch. 
 Upon the return of the object to the kiln, the enamel again becomes fluid, 
 and the colors are incorporated as well as when they were laid upon the raw 
 glaze. 
 
 Majolica. — The Moors, being masters of Persia and Egypt, were 
 acquainted with the highest forms of ceramic art. Their pottery is charac- 
 terized by elegance of form and by the metallic lustred tints of its glaze. 
 Its golden lustre has obtained for it the name of ''gilded work." The 
 decorative colors, as seen in Moorish vases of about 1300 A. D., are few in 
 number. Golden yellow, and a pale blue, encircled or heightened by a pale 
 gold which harmonizes with the azure color of the design, as well as with the 
 cream-white ground, are the principal colors. The decorative patterns are 
 texts of the sacred writings, light scrolls, arabesques, and geometric combi- 
 nations. 
 
 Majolica, one of the Balearic Isles, was the principal seat of Moorish 
 manufacture. 
 
 The Pisans conquered the pirate inhabitants of this island 11 13 A. D., and 
 brought away a knowledge of their modes of fabrication and specimens of 
 their work. Thus in the twelfth century, ceramic art in Italy received a 
 great impulse. A ware covered with white paste or engobe, through which 
 designs were scratched and glazed with lead, was largely made, and became 
 by amplification, Mezzo-Majolica, the period of which extends to 1450 A. D. 
 This Majolica differs from true MajoHca in being a glazed, not an enamelled 
 ware ; that is, its whiteness or color is derived from the paste overlying the 
 ground, and not from an enamel. Large, thick, and clumsy plates of a dirty 
 gray, coated on the back with a dull yellow varnish, are of Mezzo-Majolica, 
 and their glaze is of lead, which has a pearly lustre. 
 
 The discovery and application of a tin enamel to pottery belongs to the 
 Italian Rennaissance. Pesaro and Cafagginolo claim the honor of this 
 discovery, and at the latter place, Luca Delia Robbia probably learned the 
 method of applying it. The "secret," possessed by his family for one hun- 
 dred years, probably related to the tempering and firing of it in the clay, so 
 as to burn large masses truly and thoroughly. In 1438 Luca Delia Robbia 
 executed his famous bas-reliefs of " Singing and Dancing Boys " for the 
 organ-loft balustrade of the Cathedral in Florence. Orders came in upon 
 him so fast that he cast about for a quicker way of filling them than by the 
 chisel. Having modelled a work in clay, he burned it in the furnace, and 
 coated it with an impenetrable and vitrified coating of lead and tin, perhaps 
 mixed with antimony and other minerals. Maestro Giorgio, of Gubbio, 
 made Majolica plates, whose golden yellow and ruby red iridescence, given 
 by a now unknown process, is of great beauty. 
 
 , The subjects of the early Delia Robbia reliefs are chiefly religious, to 
 
176 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 which the glistening white of the ware is well adapted. The eyes are 
 blackened, and the figures relieved by a pale, lapis-blue ground. In later 
 works, Andrea Delia Robbia introduced moderate tints of green, violet, 
 brown, and yellow for draperies ; Luca left the flesh parts uncolored, perhaps 
 because he never discovered a fitting enamel, perhaps that the modelling 
 might be more distinctly seen. The mouldings around his compositions are 
 few, the flowers of simple varieties and in low relief. The enamel he used 
 was thick, liquid, and transparent. By these marks, as well as by his pure 
 Raphaelesque design, Luca's works may be known. 
 
 Luca left his work and traditions to Andrea, his nephew and assistant, 
 who made transportable shrines, medallions, and altar-pieces. His technic 
 is skilful and his compositions are pleasing. The countenances are expres- 
 sive, but mannered ; the frames are heavy with cherub -heads, and fruit is 
 substituted for flowers. 
 
 Andrea left the manufacture to three of his sons, — Luca, who settled at 
 Rome ; Girolamo, who decorated the chateau of Madrid near Paris for 
 Francis I ; and Giovanni, an artist of inferior ability. Luca and Girolamo 
 are highly praised by their cotemporaries, but we know little of their work, as, 
 with the exception of a few in the Louvre, the bas-reliefs of the Chateau de 
 Madrid were ground for cement during the Revolution. 
 
 From 1450-1700 the manufacture of Majolica was carried on in all the 
 principal cities of Italy. The great factories are classed as follows : Gubbio, 
 Urbino, Castel Durante, Faienza, Forli, Deruta, Chatfaguolo, Venice, and Cas- 
 telli. Wares from each of these places may be recognized by their peculiari- 
 ties of manufacture and decoration. The towns under the protection of the 
 Duke of Urbino — Gubbio, Castel Durante, Urbino, and Pesaro — were 
 remarkable for the perfection of their brilliant white glaze, and the metallic 
 iridescence given to their Majolicas by a compound of lead, silver, copper, 
 and gold. In this Gubbio surpassed all the rest. At Urbino the designs of 
 Raphael were apphed to Majolica in the best period ; hence its designation, 
 " Raphael ware." II Frate was one of the decorators at Deruta. 
 
 The best period of Majolica is from 1 540-1 560, when subjects were furnished 
 by Raphael, Titian, and other great masters of the Renaissance. Later, the 
 plates are decorated with pictures of ladies and love mottoes. During the 
 decline of the art they were decorated, and trophies, sea monsters, large bou- 
 quets, and arabesques were used as ornament. Last of all, Flemish prints were 
 copied upon the ware. The forms in Majolica are distinct, graceful, and few ; 
 vases, ewers, pilgrim bottles, and plates, make up nearly the whole catalogue. 
 The making of Majolica was greatly patronized by the Italian princes. Upon 
 the invasion of Italy by the French, the latter were seized with a great passion 
 for enamelled ware, and inferior Italian artists rushed to France, there to make 
 their fortunes. At Nevers, Majolica was first named Faience, from the natal 
 town of the head workman. 
 
 In 1539 there lived at Saintes a man named Bernard Palissy, a glazier and 
 surveyor ; he was also a self-taught chemist and geometrician, and had theorized 
 upon artesian wells and the expansive force of steam. This wide-minded man 
 
Pottery and Porcelain. 
 
 177 
 
 saw a turned and enamelled cup of such beauty that, though possessing no 
 knowledge of the potter's art, he was possessed with the desire of discovering 
 the secret of its manufacture. He therefore began to grind up materials of all 
 kinds, to build furnaces, and to fire potsherds, but these would not fuse 
 equally, and therefore formed a basis for future experiments. Why he did not 
 repair to Gubbio or Castel Durante, where the mode of manufacture was per- 
 fectly well known, cannot be conceived. But after sixteen long years of 
 struggle against all the obstacles which ignorance and poverty threw in his 
 path, he succeeded in making a pottery with a jasper glaze, warmly tinted with 
 brown, white, and blue, thrown in splashes, largely and equally incorporated 
 into each other. The application of this glaze to goblets in relief, salt- 
 cellars, etc., enabled him to live while pursuing further investigations. He 
 then invented a peculiar kind of pottery which he called " rustic pottery." By 
 dedicating this ware to the Queen Mother, and thereby obtaining her protec- 
 tion, he saved himself from the natural consequences of his Protestant heresies. 
 His rustic dishes have a rough arc, strewn with fossil shells, frogs, lizards, and 
 snakes, as well as eels, pike, and trout, swimming in the, water. Palissy also 
 engraved patterns upon his dishes, filling their depressions with various colors. 
 After he had been called to Court, and had seen the artistic marvels of the 
 metropolis, he showed a new phase of his talent in the application of human 
 figures to his rustic compositions. His admirable Magdalen kneeling in the 
 midst of shells, and his Charity framed in fossils, may be seen at the Louvre. 
 Palissy also covered the beautiful pewter vases of Briot with enamel. 
 
 In material, Palissy ware is coarse and inferior to Majolica ; neither is its 
 glaze, of a yellowish tint, as good. Its paste is hard, sonorous, and pinkish- 
 white ; the color adheres to it without perceptible thickness, and preserves a 
 remarkable warmth, which indicates firing at a high temperature. The join- 
 ings of Palissy reliefs are imperceptible, their forms are fine and ornament 
 good. Palissy often took a mould from the natural object, and applied it to 
 the clay in turn. His pride in honest, perfect work and his knowledge of 
 nature have made his inventions memorable. 
 
 The manufacture of coarse pottery had long been established in England. 
 Enamelled ware was produced in 1642. Under the protection of George II 
 (1750-1765), English china was produced, rivalling that of Dresden and 
 Sevres. The first English potteries were not conducted by Englishmen, and 
 died out with their imported directors. About 1710 two brothers from Niirn- 
 berg established a pottery at Burslem in Staffordshire. They used the red 
 clay of the district combined with stoneware material. The secret of their 
 process was discovered, and their ware improved by the addition of flint, 
 giving the composition a white color. After this discovery, any desirable tint 
 could be given to the ware by the addition of metallic oxides. 
 
 Twenty years after the establishment of potteries at Burslem, Josiah Wedge- 
 wood was born there. As Palissy was a naturalist, so Wedgewood was an artist 
 in pottery. His first invention, 1755, was of a green ware, exquisitely mod- 
 elled in imitation of leaves, and noted for its glaze, fulness and brilliancy of 
 color. He then made small figures, shepherds, etc. To obtain capital for 
 23 
 
178 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 more classic work he improved the cream-colored ware of the vicinity in 
 shape and design. The approval of the queen (a set of this having been sent 
 her) gave it the name of Queen's ware. When these were ornamented at all, it 
 was with a simple band or a few delicate leaves in color. In 1768 Wedgewood 
 began business for himself. In 1762 he secured a road to the pottery dis- 
 trict, and later, water communication between the Mersey and Trent. The 
 intercourse thus opened with the outer world helped the establishment and 
 progress of Wedgewood's ornamental art greatly. He bought an estate 
 between Burslem and Newcastle on the canal, named it Etruria, and estab- 
 lished his vase potteries there. 
 
 Bentley, an extensive jobber of earthenware, of great business ability, 
 became his partner in 1766. About this time he made a medallion likeness 
 of Pitt, white upon a chocolate ground, — his first attempt at relief, — and 
 followed it with countless copies of antique works, rilievo busts and cameos, 
 together with original subjects designed by Flaxman, who worked for him 
 thirteen years. Wedgewood's most noted work was the reproduction of the 
 Portland vase, which he accomplished by casting a white opaque glaze over a 
 deep blue ground, and then, with infinite labor, grinding it down to the ground 
 with a diamond. A set of three hundred and sixty pieces, which he made 
 for Catherine I of Russia, each piece painted with a separate view of English 
 scenery, was one of his most important commissions. Perhaps the greatest 
 of his inventions was the application of the brilliant glaze and bright enamel 
 to hard pottery, which had previously been used only upon porcelain. This 
 brought it within the means of the general public. He changed the tide 
 of import to export. His wares, as catalogued by their producer, are : porphyry, 
 black basalts or black Egyptian ware, jasper ware with white reliefs, porce- 
 lain biscuit fitted for chemical purposes, and table or queen's ware. Each of 
 these wares at the time of their production was peculiar to Wedgewood. 
 
 Josiah Wedgewood was a man of taste, ambition, originality, ingenuity, and 
 business ability. He selected eminent assistants, and was fortunate in the 
 choice of his partner, who introduced him to the patronage and acquaintance 
 of the great. His sons and grandsons have carried on the manufacture of 
 Wedgewood ware in a manner worthy of its founder. 
 
Historical Ornament. 
 
 179 
 
 XXV. 
 
 HISTORICAL ORNAMENT. 
 
 In the earliest times, when man made tools or weapons of stone or other 
 material, he showed a natural love of ornament, and each epoch in man's 
 history is characterized by an individuality of ornamentation. To this indi- 
 viduality the name of style has been given, and to the ancient or historic 
 styles we are to give our attention in this paper. 
 
 The savage tattooes his body in order to make himself terrible in the eyes 
 of his enemies, or because he thinks it gives him a new beauty ; he forms orna- 
 ments by weaving straw, bark, or pieces of wood, or carves his weapons or 
 other articles into fantastic shapes. Occasionally, a mind stronger than those 
 around it impresses itself on a generation, and carries with it a host of weaker 
 minds, yet never so closely as to destroy the individual ambition to create : 
 hence the creation of styles and their modification. 
 
 There are, of course, many varieties of nearly every style, but so long as 
 the chief characteristics remain the same, it is the same ; therefore styles are 
 comparatively few. The whole number of the great characteristic develop- 
 ments or styles which have had any influence on European civilization are 
 nine, and these nine maybe divided into three groups, — the ancient, the 
 mediseval, and the modern. 
 
 The ancient styles are the Egyptian, Greek, and Roman. The medieval 
 are the Byzantine, Saracenic, and Gothic. The modern are the Renaissance, 
 Cinquecento, and Louis Quatorze. 
 
 These various styles extend over a period of upwards of four thousand 
 five hundred years, of which two thousand may be considered as the ancient 
 period, from the early historic times to the fourth century of our era ; about 
 one thousand years, from the fourth to the fourteenth century, may be classed 
 as the mediaeval ; and the last five centuries, from the fourteenth to the 
 nineteenth, comprise the period of the Renaissance, or modern period. Style 
 is only another name for character. Every style is distinguished by its 
 characteristics, and not by what it has in common with other styles. 
 
 An ornamental work does not belong to a style because it was executed 
 in the period of that style, for a style is defined by its characteristics. The 
 earliest style of ornament is the Egyptian, which was already established 
 1800 B. C. It is a hieroglyphic style in its sentiments and details. 
 
i8o 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 The architecture of Egypt has this peculiarity over all other styles, — that 
 the more ancient the monument, the more perfect the art. Most of the 
 remains of Egyptian art with which we are acquainted, exhibit it in a state of 
 decline. Monuments which were erected two thousand years before the 
 Christian era are seen to have been made from still more ancient and more 
 perfect buildings. 
 
 We are carried back to a time too remote to enable us to discover any 
 trace of the origin of Egyptian architecture ; and while we can trace in direct 
 succession the Greek, the Roman, Byzantine with its offshoots, the Arabian, 
 the Moresque, and the Gothic, we must believe that of Egypt is a pure original 
 style, which arose with civilization in central Africa, passed through count- 
 less ages to the culminating point of perfection, and fell into the state of 
 decline in which we see it. In all other styles we can trace a rapid rise 
 from infancy to perfection, followed by a lingering decline. 
 
 Egyptian ornament was not often chosen for effect's sake ; it generally has 
 some meaning, being symbolical in character, though derived directly from 
 nature, and conventionalized under the direction of the priests in such a 
 manner as would best symbolize their religious beliefs. We cannot but 
 admire the ingenuity of the Egyptian decorator who converted the almost 
 incomprehensible hieroglyphics into tasteful and pleasing ornaments. 
 
 The zigzag, which was the type of water and symbolical of the overflowing 
 of the Nile from which the greater part of Egypt derived its fertility, was an 
 important detail of ornament, as was also the lotus, which had a similar 
 signification. 
 
 The scarabaeus or beetle and the winged globe as the symbols of immor- 
 tality, are also important details ; they occur of all sizes and in almost all 
 materials, and were used as talisman. The globe is supposed to represent the 
 sun ; the wings Providence ; and the two asps, one on each side of the globe, 
 dominion or monarchy, — thus uniting the creative, protective, and distributing 
 powers. We almost invariably find this ornament placed over doors and 
 windows, and in passages. It is sometimes of an enormous size, extending 
 thirty feet or more. It also frequently adorns costumes and mummy-cases. 
 
 There are several other winged figures found in Egyptian friezes, natural 
 and unnatural, as the vulture with the tau and ostrich feather, the hawk, the 
 winged asp, and the human winged figure, corresponding apparently to those 
 described in the works of the Jews. 
 
 The sphinx, a remarkable object in Egyptian art, does not come under the 
 category of winged creatures ; in this it is distinguished from the Greek 
 sphinx, which is always winged, and always female The Egyptian sphinx 
 is always male, and is supposed to represent the combination of physical 
 and intellectual power. 
 
 It is also associated with the special forms and attributes of the great 
 Egyptian deities. We find the man-sphinx, the ram-sphinx, the hawk-sphinx, 
 or the lion's body with the head of the man, the ram, or the hawk, according to 
 the deity symbolized. Sphinxes were generally placed either side of the 
 paths leading to the temple. 
 
Historical Ornament. 
 
 i8i 
 
 The swelling asp is also a very characteristic ornament. We find friezes 
 and borders composed of a series of asps, and it is very common to find them 
 arranged also in symmetrical opposition, one on each side of the cartouche 
 or shield enclosing the hieroglyphic name of a king, having the same 
 signification of dominion, with a special reference to the king or dynasty 
 expressed by the hieroglyphics in the cartouche. 
 
 The most essential characteristics of an Egyptian design, then, are these: the 
 winged globe, the lotus, and the papyrus, the zigzag, the asp, and the cartouche 
 containing hieroglyphics. These we find mixed up with many geometrical 
 forms, as the fret, the spiral or wave-scroll, the star, etc. 
 
 The lotus and papyrus, growing on the banks of the river, symbolize food 
 for the body and mind, and the feathers of rare birds, which were carried before 
 the king, are emblems of sovereignty ; the palm-branch, with the twisted cord 
 made from its stems, are types used in decorating the temples of the gods, the 
 palaces of kings, and as body coverings. 
 
 Egyptian ornament is of three kinds, — that which is constructive, that which 
 is representative but at the same time conventionally rendered, and that which 
 is simply decorative. To the first, namely, constructive ornament, belong 
 the decorations of the means of support, and the crowning members of the 
 walls. The column was an enlarged papyrus plant, the base representing the 
 root, the shaft the stalk, and the capital the full-blown flower, surrounded 
 by a number of smaller plants. Although the lotus and papyrus formed the 
 types of most Egyptian capitals, yet they were ingeniously varied and arranged; 
 while from Greek days to our own time the world has been content with 
 acanthus leaves arranged around a bell for the capitals of columns, with little 
 variation of plan. 
 
 The shaft of the Egyptian column, when circular, was made to retain the 
 triangular shape of the papyrus by raised lines which divided its circum- 
 ference into three equal portions ; when the column was formed by four or 
 eight shafts bound together, these had each a sharp edge on their outer face 
 for the same reason. 
 
 The crowning member or cornice of an Egyptian building was decorated 
 with feathers, which appear to have been emblems of sovereignty, whilst the 
 winged globe in the centre is an emblem of divinity. 
 
 The second kind of Egyptian ornament results from the conventional rep- 
 resentation of actual things on the walls of temples and tombs ; and here 
 again, in the representation of offerings to the gods, or of various articles of 
 daily use, in the paintings of actual scenes of their domestic life, every flower 
 or other object is portrayed, not as a reality, but as an ideal representation. 
 We find that the Egyptians obeyed the laws of radiation of the leaves and 
 veins on the leaves in graceful curves from the parent stem ; and that they 
 not only followed this rule in drawing the individual flower, but in the group- 
 ing of several flowers together. 
 
 The third kind of Egyptian ornament, which is simply decorative, is used 
 on tombs, dresses, utensils, and sarcophagi. 
 
 Rope ornament was subject to a geometrical arrangement, but the unrolling 
 
l82 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 of the cord gives the very form which is the source of so much beauty in 
 many subsequent styles. 
 
 As we proceed with other styles, we shall see that they approached perfec- 
 tion only so far as they followed Egyptian principles. 
 
 The firmness, justness, and fulness of Egyptian drawing has never been 
 surpassed ; the lines of hieroglyphics covering the papyrus, and executed in 
 running hand, surpass sometimes even the finest works of the Greeks. 
 The Egyptians used color as they did form, conventionally : the colors 
 used were principally red, blue, yellow, with black and white to define and 
 give distinctiveness to the rest ; green was generally used, though not 
 universally, as a local color, as upon the green leaves of the lotus ; these 
 were, however, indifferently colored green or blue, — blue in more ancient 
 times and green during the Ptolemaic period, at which time, also, both purple 
 and brown were added, but with diminished effect. 
 
 In Egypt we find grandeur of proportion, simplicity of parts, and splendor 
 or costliness of material to be the great art-characteristics, as they are the 
 prevailing characteristics of Asiatic art. 
 
 Assyrian and Persian styles. — Those best versed in Assyrian art, are 
 inclined to believe that it was not an original style, but was borrowed from 
 the Egyptians, modified by the difference of the religion and habits of the 
 Assyrian people. 
 
 Greek style. — Greek art, though borrowed partly from the Egyptian and 
 partly from the Assyrian, was the development of an old idea in a new 
 direction: symmetry and regularity are its general principles. The Greeks 
 carried pure form to a point of perfection which has never since been 
 reached ; their art was wanting, however, in one of the great charms which 
 should always accompany ornament, namely, symbolism. It was purely dec- 
 orative, never representative, and can hardly be said to be constructive, for 
 the various members of a Greek monument rather present surfaces exqui- 
 sitely designed to receive ornament : the ornament could be removed, and 
 the structure would remain the same. 
 
 The Doric Age. — The first historic age of Greek art, from the first historic 
 records, comprises altogether a period of about four centuries. 
 
 The style of this period prevailed from the western shores of Asia to the 
 extreme limits of Sicily, and is illustrated by the many interesting Doric ruins 
 still preserved. The most important manufacture of the period, of which 
 remains exist, was that of terra-cotta vases ; and on these we find all the 
 characteristic ornaments of a distinctively Greek style of decoration. These 
 vases show exactly the same ornaments, though necessarily modified in 
 their treatment, as those which are found in the architectural ornaments of 
 the time. The examples of representative ornaments suited to architecture 
 are the zigzag, the wave scroll, the labyrinth or Greek fret, cable mouldings, 
 astragals, ogees, channellings, egg mouldings, and ornaments designed from 
 the ox's skull called bucranes. 
 
 There is but little doubt that we are acquainted with Greek art in all its 
 phases, as the painted ornament on the Greek and Etruscan vases does not 
 differ from that found on any temples which we know. Like the Egyptian, 
 
Historical Ornament. 
 
 183 
 
 the types are few, but the conventional rendering is much farther removed 
 from these types. 
 
 A very characteristic feature of Greek ornament, continued by the Romans 
 but abandoned during the Byzantine period, is that the various parts of a 
 scroll grow out of each other in a continuous line, as may be seen in the 
 ornament from the Choragic monument of Lysicrates. In the Byzantine, 
 Arabian, Moresque, and early English styles, the flowers branch off on either 
 side from a continuous Hne. 
 
 We have here an instance of how slight a change is sufficient to generate 
 an entirely new order of forms and ideas. Roman ornament was constantly 
 struggling against an apparently fixed law ; and scarcely ever got beyond the 
 arrangement of a volute springing from a stem fitted into another stem, and 
 encirchng a flower. 
 
 It is almost universally recognized that the white marble temples of the 
 Greeks were entirely covered with painted ornament, the coloring as well as 
 the form being always conventional. 
 
 As the hot, rainless climate of Egypt made massive flat roofs necessary, 
 so the rainy seasons of Greece rendered sloping roofs desirable, and from 
 their gables the Greeks eventually developed their beautiful pediment. The 
 pediment necessitated the frieze — aesthetically more than mechanically — to 
 diminish its apparent weight to balance the parts, and to strengthen the entab- 
 lature. The only Greek example of a temple without a pediment — the Pan- 
 droseion at Athens — has no frieze in its entablature. 
 
 The distinctive ornament of the three Greek architectural orders, as they 
 are termed, is the capital. The Doric capital consists of a round, flat cushion, 
 called the echinus, and a large square abacus, the lower diameter of the 
 echinus being that of the pillar, its upper that of the abacus. The cushion 
 is called the echinus from its being invariably decorated with that ornament. 
 The Doric order might well be called the echinus order ; and the echinus is 
 accordingly the principal ornament of the period. Like the Egyptian, the 
 Greek is distinguished for its broad, flat surfaces : even its curves are flat, 
 of a parabolic character. The Ionic or voluted capital was used in Asia 
 Minor as early as the middle of the sixth century before our era. The 
 acanthus was very little used by the Greeks, while with the Romans it was 
 a favorite. 
 
 Roman ornament, the last of the ancient styles, is simply an exaggeration 
 of the florid Greek. The Romans did not add a single important element to 
 Greek ornament ; they were original only in their treatment of Greek mate- 
 rial. Roman art is accordingly Greek art, and it is probable that nearly 
 all the great artists employed by the Romans were Greeks. The real great- 
 ness of the Romans is rather to be seen in their palaces, baths, theatres, 
 aqueducts, and other works of public utility, than in their temple architect- 
 ure, which, being the expression of a religion borrowed from the Greeks, and 
 in which they probably had little faith, exhibits a corresponding want of ear- 
 nestness and feeling for art. 
 
 In the Greek temple it is everywhere apparent that the struggle was to 
 arrive at a perfection worthy of the gods. In the Roman temple the aim 
 
The Antefix Papers, 
 
 was self-glorification ; from the base of the column to the apex of the pedi- 
 ment, every part is overloaded with ornament, tending rather to dazzle by 
 quantity than to excite admiration by the quality of the work. Greek tem- 
 ples, when painted, were as much ornamented as those of the Romans, but 
 with a very different result. The ornament was arranged so that it threw a 
 colored bloom over the whole structure, and in no way disturbed the exqui- 
 sitely designed surfaces which received it. The Romans did not value the 
 general proportions of the structure, nor the contours of the moulded sur- 
 faces, for they entirely destroyed them by the elaborate surface-modelling of 
 the carved ornaments. These ornaments do not grow naturally from the 
 surface, but are applied to it. 
 
 The fatal facilities which the Roman system of decoration gives for manu- 
 facturing ornament by applying acanthus leaves in any form and in any 
 direction, is the chief cause of the invasion of this ornament into most mod- 
 ern work ; for it requires so little thought, and is so completely a manufacture, 
 that it encourages architects to neglect one of their special provinces, and 
 the interior decorations of buildings have thus fallen into hands most 
 unfitted for their work. 
 
 The only distinct Roman order is the composite ; it comprises, as its name 
 implies, all the three Greek orders, — the echinus, the voluted, and the 
 acanthus orders. The arch is a Roman feature. Where the Greeks used 
 the horizontal entablature, the Romans often employed the arch. The 
 Romans used the mallis, or soft acanthus ; the Greeks used the prickly 
 acanthus : but the Roman ornament for capitals is commonly composed of 
 conventional clusters of olive-leaves, — a modification arising out of the 
 necessity for strong effect, in massive, lofty temples, — but this leaf does not 
 occur otherwise than on the capitals. In the use of the acanthus-leaf the 
 Romans showed but little art ; they received it from the Greeks beautifully 
 conventionalized ; they adhered more closely to the general outline, but exag- 
 gerated the surface decoration. Roman buildings are uniformly more mas- 
 sive than Greek, as well as bolder in their details ; their curves are fuller, 
 those of the Romans being circular, and those of the Greeks elliptical. The 
 free introduction of monsters and animals, such as the sphinx, the triton, and 
 the griffin, is likewise characteristic of Greek and Roman ornament ; they 
 occur, however, much more abundantly in the Roman. Roman ornament 
 consists universally of a scroll growing out of another scroll, encircling a 
 flower or group of leaves. In Greek ornament the scrolls grow out of each 
 other in the same way, but are much more attenuated at the point of junction. 
 
 The three ancient styles — Egyptian, Greek, and Roman — are very dis- 
 tinct. The Egyptian is symbolic, rich, and severe at the same time ; the 
 Greek is severe and beautiful ; and the Roman rich and beautiful, at least in 
 its best examples. Greek taste steadily progressed until about the time of 
 Alexander ; from this period, richness and abundance of ornament gradually 
 supplanted the chaster principles of design. 
 
 The Greeks were always lovers of splendor. This splendor was carried 
 out by the Romans on a still greater scale, until their boundless luxury 
 induced an indiscriminate and extravagant use of ornamental detail. 
 
Historical Ornament. — Middle Age Styles, 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 HISTORICAL ORNAMENT. — MIDDLE AGE STYLES. 
 
 What may be technically termed ancient ornament ends with the Roman. 
 The change of religion which ensued through the adoption of Christianity by 
 Constantine totally revolutionized ornamental as well as all other art. In- 
 deed, we find that the delay in, as well as the flourishing growth of the arts 
 and sciences, has ever been dependent on those two mighty sources of all 
 movement in the moral world, — religion and the form of government. Some- 
 times one, sometimes the other determines the result ; but generally speaking, 
 the influence of both causes has operated so uninterruptedly from the very 
 birth of the arts down to our times, that their history is almost inseparably 
 connected with the history of religious opinion and of political revolutions. 
 Accordingly, the mighty revolution which accompanied the downfall of the 
 Roman Empire, and the introduction of an entirely new religion, could not 
 fail to exercise an influence upon art and its forms ; and all the more, as 
 even under the first emperors, a decline of correct taste had become percep- 
 tible. 
 
 Before we proceed to study the art which was the child of the new religion, 
 we must pause a moment to mourn over the ruin of the old, caused by the 
 destructive zeal of the Christians. Not content with demolishing statues, 
 paintings, and mosaics of mythological import, they attacked other objects 
 of art ; everything pagan was for the most part destroyed. When materials 
 were needed for building new churches and basilicas, heathen temples, 
 and even profane edifices, were pulled down to furnish them. While the 
 Christians were burying the most beautiful statues in fragments under the 
 floors of churches in order that they might, as it were, tread them under foot, 
 the adherents of the old faith buried all they could save, in order to preserve 
 them from destruction. This accounts for statues being found where no 
 temple or altar ever stood. 
 
 The fifth century was the most fatal to the remains of ancient art and civil- 
 ization ; for then the barbarian hordes invaded and laid waste the Roman 
 provinces. During that single century Rome was five times invaded and 
 once set on fire. It is hardly necessary to say that in such times artists cre- 
 ated nothing new. Especial pains were taken to adorn the graves in the 
 catacombs, and we must betake ourselves to them if we wish to behold the 
 remains of art of that period. 
 24 
 
i86 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 The palm branch, so frequent upon grave slabs, was formerly thought to 
 mark the tombs of the martyrs, but is now known to have been simply the 
 emblem of the victory of Christian faith, a discovery which greatly reduces 
 the number of martyrs supposed to have been buried in the catacombs. 
 The emblems upon these tombs are very curious as showing the transition 
 from Pagan to Christian art. The sarcophagus of the sister of the Emperor 
 Constantine is covered almost entirely with pagan bas-reliefs ; upon one end 
 of another sarcophagus there is a representation of the heathen god Mercury 
 carrying a goat upon his shoulders, and upon the other end one of the Good 
 Shepherd bearing the sheep. Another curious representation is of the Good 
 Shepherd with the Pandean pipes, bearing the goat on his shoulders while 
 the sheep stand beside him. The cross did not appear in art until fully a 
 century after its abolition as a means of punishment. All the scenes con- 
 nected with the crucifixion, so common in later art, are wholly unknown to 
 that of the catacombs. Christ was to those early Christians the Good Shep- 
 herd, and not the Sacrificial Lamb. 
 
 Although in these works we here and there see traces of the better periods 
 of art, the majority of them are weak in invention, coarse in execution, and 
 generally faulty in drawing. Paltry, and destitute of all artistic value as are 
 the works of these times, contemporary writers are lavish in the praises they 
 bestow upon them ; nor is this to be wondered at ; for in a time of universal 
 ignorance, when an acquaintance with the art of writing was a rare accom- 
 plishment, the production of a painting or a piece of sculpture, however poor 
 in quality, seemed a glorious performance ; and this all the more as in the 
 East, during the first centuries of Christianity, the making of sacred images 
 and sculptures was strictly prohibited by the teachings of the church. In 
 the fifth century a religious council decreed that in future Christ in the human 
 form, and not the lamb, should be depicted on the cross. The use of cruci- 
 fixes in painting and sculpture commences from that time, and in the earliest 
 one Christ always appears clothed, with a royal crown on his head, and fas- 
 tened with four nails to the cross. The use of three nails did not arise till 
 later. Shortly after, a systematic attack upon images was begun by the Icon- 
 oclasts, which set the Eastern and Western churches at variance, and led to 
 an utter destruction of sacred monuments throughout the East ; repeated 
 edicts were issued against the adoration of images ; holy figures in pictures 
 still extant, were caused to be painted over with birds, flowers, and ornamental 
 foliage in the Arabian taste, while those artists who engaged in the repre- 
 sentation of sacred subjects were threatened with severe punishments, and 
 even thrown into prison. But before one hundred years had passed, the use 
 of sacred images was revived, and spread so rapidly that each military cohort 
 carried with it the image of its saint in a small chapel mounted on two wheels. 
 
 Art, thus subjected to hieratic caprice, could make but little progress. 
 In the tenth century came the dawn of a revival, which was not fully realized, 
 however, until the thirteenth century. The wealth which the cities of Italy 
 acquired through commerce, and increased by means of the Crusades, fos- 
 tered in the citizens a love of splendor, and consequently a taste for art, 
 
Historical Ornament. — Middle Age Styles. 
 
 187 
 
 which led them to vie with each other in the munificence with which they 
 adorned their palaces and churches with marbles, works of sculpture, paint- 
 ings, and mosaics. Notwithstanding the degraded condition of the arts, the 
 fondness for beauty and embellishment which is inherent in man, extended 
 the practice of art over every part of Europe ; and we perceive its feeble 
 beginnings in those buildings of the period which have survived to our time. 
 
 Christian art was at first very much under the influence of Roman art, which 
 had already declined considerably ; this was especially the case in the west- 
 ern part of the empire, Italy, Germany, France, etc., where it was termed 
 Latin or Romanesque. The other branch of Roman art, known as the 
 modern Greek or Byzantine, originated in Constantinople from the more 
 Oriental development of the Roman style occasioned by the conquest of a 
 part of Asia by the Romans, who found in the East fresh elements to satisfy 
 their sumptuous tastes. During the first and second centuries Christian works 
 of art were limited to symools, never decorations, but as exhortations to faith 
 and piety. All Christian decoration rests upon this foundation, the same 
 spirit of symbolism prevailing throughout until the return to the heathen 
 principle of beauty, in the period of the Renaissance. The early symbols 
 were the monogram of Christ, variously written, the lily, the cross, the ser- 
 pent, the aureole or vesica piscis, — an acrostic symbol, the fish, from the 
 common Greek word for fish, — the initials of the following sentence, Jesus 
 Christ, of God, the Son, the Saviour, — and the circle or nimbus, the glory 
 around the head, as the vesica is around the entire body. These are all very 
 important elements in Christian decoration, especially the nimbus, which is 
 the element of the trefoil and quatrefoil and analogous forms, so common in 
 Byzantine and Gothic art, — the trefoil having reference to the Trinity, and 
 the quatrefoil to the four evangelists as the witnesses to Christ, as well as to 
 the cross, at the extremities of which we often find the circle together with 
 the circle or nimbus in the centre signifying the Lord. The circles at the 
 extremities which are the nimbi of the evangelists, often contain their respect- 
 ive symbolic images, the angel, the lion, the ox, and the eagle, thus making 
 their signification palpable. Why the beautiful and accomplished styles of the 
 ancients were discarded for such comparatively crude elements of ornament, 
 needs no other explanation than that they were pagan. Paganism consisted, 
 however, solely in forms, not in colors ; and therefore as regarded colors, 
 there were no restrictions. Ancient forms also, as paganism itself gradually 
 disappeared, were slowly admitted among the elements of Christian decora- 
 tion ; and the scroll, under certain modifications, became eventually a very 
 prominent figure in Byzantine ornaments. Under a similar modification the 
 anthemion and every other ancient form of ornament was gradually adopted, 
 after a systematic exclusion of four or five centuries. All Byzantine decora- 
 tions, however, are strictly conventional, a trefoil leaf or a lily form being the 
 ordinary foliation for a scroll; and every form, whether derived from nature or 
 from earlier styles of art, being always treated in a peculiar manner. More 
 skill on the whole was displayed in the general effects than in the details, and 
 owing to the richness of material used, which was characteristic of Byzantine 
 
i88 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 taste, a heavy, gorgeous style was ultimately developed out of a rude symbol- 
 ism. The leading forms of Byzantine and Romanesque architecture are 
 likewise due to the same influences, the cross, the circle, and the dove being 
 everywhere met with. The details of Byzantine buildings are in a great 
 measure borrowed from ancient Greek architecture. We have been tempted 
 in the study of the mediaeval styles to overstep the bounds of simple ornament, 
 as we find such marked characteristics in mediaeval architecture. Thus the 
 basilicas contain numerous columns of marble, Greek or Roman capitals, 
 architraves and cornices, which speak of the Athenian or Ephesian sculptor. 
 But when available fragments became scarce, the Byzantine artists were 
 compelled to originate works in accordance with the massive forms of their 
 basilicas. They thus produced their own heavy capital, which resembles the 
 Corinthian divested of its foliated ornaments, and with its cup pressed into 
 quadrangular shape. This nearly cubical mass received only a few foliated 
 ornaments in relief, or fantastic figures in place of foliated work, which latter 
 were much imitated in Italy, on the Rhine, in Normandy, and in England, 
 where they were frequently employed in the eleventh century. The decora- 
 tions on the Corinthian entablature and cornice underwent similar changes, 
 the moulding being replaced by a few inclined planes, embellished with sculp- 
 tures, paintings, or mosaic. Sculptured Byzantine ornamental work is broad 
 and heavy, frequently exhibiting strings of pearls, and festoons apparently set 
 with precious stones. The foliated work is very boldly profiled, the leaves 
 generally terminating in points. 
 
 Eastern churches were generally of a square, round, or polygonal form. 
 The characteristic difference between the Byzantine and the Romanesque 
 styles, is that the former always had a cupola, whilst the latter, even in build- 
 ings whose form was round, had flat roofs of carpentry. Byzantine fa9ades 
 were often ornamented in freestone and brick, used together, the latter laid 
 both in horizontal and in vertical lines, so as to form frames around panels of 
 freestone. Great variety of decoration is attained in this manner, enhanced 
 by the application of moulded, carved, and Y-shaped bricks. Another pecu- 
 liarity of this style is that the slope of the roof seldom appears in view : the 
 top of the building is generally a straight line surmounted by a cupola placed 
 over the central rotunda, and sometimes by smaller domes at the sides, which 
 in large buildings mark the points of connection between the vestibule and 
 the side-aisles. 
 
 The eleventh century was the period of the introduction of towers in the 
 construction of churches. The cathedral at Trani has probably the oldest 
 known tower ; it is very simple, and like the towers of that time generally, is 
 not so high as those of the subsequent German style. This cathedral may 
 be regarded as the connecting link between the Byzantine and Gothic styles, 
 as it exhibits both round and pointed arches. The Byzantine was so widely 
 spread, and so thoroughly identified with all mediaeval art after the first few 
 centuries of the Christian era, that its influence even in Italy did not wholly 
 decline before the fifteenth century. Both the Saracenic and the Gothic pro- 
 ceeded from the Byzantine ; the Greek missionaries carried its influence into 
 
Historical Ornament. — Middle Age Styles. 189 
 
 the extreme north ; and while the artists of Syria were accommodating their 
 style to Mohammedan exclusiveness in the south, the mysteries of Mount 
 Athos were freely mixed up with the fables of Scandinavian mythology in the 
 colder regions of Europe. The Scandinavian soldiers, also, of the imperial 
 body-guard at Constantinople, made, on their return, the talismans of Christian 
 mythology almost as familiar in their native homes as the gods of their fore- 
 fathers. The cross planted on the serpent is not an uncommon image on 
 Mount Athos ; and the cross surmounted by the so-called Runic knot is only 
 a Scandinavian version of the original Byzantine symbol of the redemption, — 
 the crushed snake curling round the stem of the avenging cross. 
 
 The buildings, for the most part ecclesiastical, erected by the Lombards in 
 Italy in the seventh and eighth centuries, are in their main features Byzan- 
 tine ; but for several peculiarities they have been grouped by themselves, and 
 constitute the monuments of the Lombardic style. Their main characteristics 
 are, i. Very small windows with semicircular arch. 2. Half or three fourths 
 columns placed at the entrance, and grouped so as to form perspective gate- 
 ways. The columns of the two sides are connected above by semicircular 
 arches ; their bases, shafts, and capitals are decorated with rude, fgliated 
 work, or symbolic figures, while their Byzantine capitals in a measure 
 approach the Corinthian. The columns of the interior supporting the arches 
 generally have rude cubic capitals. 3. The rude sculptures frequently sat- 
 irize the vices of the priesthood. 4. Festoons, wrought in stone, appear 
 under the main cornices. 5. The spires on the towers are invariably pyram- 
 idal. 
 
 The Saracenic, or Moorish, as the development of the same style was 
 called in Spain, proceeded from the Byzantine, but was greatly modified by 
 the stringent Mohammedan law, which forbade any imitation of living things, 
 vegetable or animal, in decoration. Such conditions led, of course, to a very 
 individual style of decoration, for vegetable forms were now excluded from 
 ornament for the first time. By the eighth century, however, to which the 
 rich works of the Saracens belong, the Byzantine Greeks who were pressed 
 into the service of the Arabian caliphs and generals, were already sufficiently 
 skilful to make light of such exclusions, and the exertion of ingenuity to 
 which they were compelled gave rise, perhaps, to a more beautiful simply 
 ornamental style than any that had preceded it, as there was no longer any 
 division of the artistic mind between meaning and effect. Symbolic figures, 
 which had hitherto engrossed so much of the artist's attention, were now 
 excluded, but the mere conventional ornamental symbolism, and the ordinary 
 forms borrowed from the classic period and geometry, left the artist an 
 abundant field, which was further enriched by the peculiarly Saracenic custom 
 of making inscriptive designs. The curves or angles or interlacings of the 
 characters were now made to bear the chief burden of a design ; the curves, 
 however, very naturally fell into the standard forms and floral shapes, and 
 the lines and angles were soon developed into a very characteristic species 
 of tracery or interlaced strap-work, very agreeably diversified by the orna- 
 mental use of inscriptions. The Saracenic was the period of gorgeous 
 
190 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 diapers ; but like the Byzantine it was more remarkable for its general effects, 
 than for any peculiar merit of detail or combinations of details. The designs 
 are made up of an infinite number of minute contrasts of light and shade 
 and color, something like a formal flower-garden, but wanting in the grandeur 
 and simplicity of natural scenery. No other details are so applicable for 
 mere fillings as the Saracenic, and hence we find them constantly recurring 
 in Renaissance designs. 
 
 Among the prominent features in Saracenic architecture are, i. The horse- 
 shoe-shaped arches, which generally occur alone, but sometimes in con- 
 nection with semicircular arches, and even surmounted by them in a few 
 buildings. The latter arrangement is of exquisite effect, being exceedingly 
 picturesque, and it is remarkable that it has never been imitated in other 
 styles of building. 2. The Moorish columns, employed in great numbers, 
 are remarkably slender. Their capitals are sometimes antique, but generally 
 of a peculiar shape, best described as that of two truncated pyramids placed 
 base to base, the upper one being inverted like an hour-glass. 3. The walls 
 and niches are richly inlaid with peculiar ornaments and sentences from the 
 Koran', sometimes in stucco, and frequently even in precious stones. The 
 ornaments are painted with gaudy colors, chiefly purple, azure, and gold. 
 4. The floors are of colored marble, laid in elaborate patterns, 5. The 
 vaults and arches frequently exhibit lattice-work, through which the buildings 
 are lighted. 6. The entablature, consisting of but few' members, always 
 projects boldly. 7. The height of the buildings is generally limited, though 
 they cover extensive areas. 8. The cupolas, which frequently occur, are 
 mostly bulbiform. 
 
 As the Norman style was originally developed in Sicily, it contains many- 
 Saracenic features, of which the pointed arch and the zigzag are the most 
 characteristic. The original Norman was not national, but simply Roman- 
 esque or Byzantine. 
 
 The last great middle-age style, the Gothic, grew out of the Byzantine, like 
 the Saracenic ; it flourished chiefly on the Rhine, in the north of France, 
 and in England. Authorities differ as to the name this style shouW receive, 
 Goethe proposed that it should be called German, for it originated in Ger- 
 many, and has but few characteristics in common with the older styles, 
 least of all with the real Gothic style, the name given to that which originated 
 in Italy during the supremacy of the Goths in that country under Theodoric. 
 Only a limited number of these buildings have been preserved : they all 
 show that this style equally approaches the ancient Roman and the Roman- 
 esque ; exclusive application is made of the semicircular arch and semi- 
 cylindrical vault. But setting aside this distinction, we will agree, with 
 Wornum, to give the name of "Gothic" to the pointed-arch style, the oldest 
 monuments of which date from the tenth century, and are found in Germany; 
 it was more generally developed in the thirteenth century, was perfected in 
 the fourteenth, and in the sixteenth became extinct. In its general forms., 
 the Gothic is essentially a pointed and geometrical style, though all the 
 symbolic elements of the Byzantine are preserved in it ; its details appear to 
 
Historical Ornament. — Middle Jige Styles. 191 
 
 be an infinite repetition of the greater architectural features by which it is 
 distinguished, as the spire in place of the dome, and the pointed in the place 
 of the round arch. It has the pointed arch, however, in common with the 
 Saracenic. As an ornamental style it is an excessive elaboration of the 
 pointed and geometric element, vertical and diagonal lines prevaiHng over 
 the others. It is further peculiar in its combinations of details : at first the 
 conventional and symbolic prevail, and afterwards these are combined with 
 the elaboration of natural objects proper to its locahties. We find Gothic 
 examples not only the traditional conventional types, but also, in the later 
 periods, exact imitations of the plants and flowers growing in the neighbor- 
 hood mixed with them. This is a great feature, but still always secondary to 
 the elaboration of geometrical tracery, — vesicas, trefoils, quatrefoils, etc. 
 with many other geometrical combinations, — which always remains the main 
 characteristic of the style, whether the so-called early English, the decorated 
 or the perpendicular, French or German. In ornament, therefore, as in 
 architecture, it is the geometrical tracery which stamps a design with a 
 Gothic character ; mixed with natural flowers only, it is still Gothic ; but the 
 example is more characteristic when it contains also the historic ornaments 
 of the style, as the Tudor flower, the fleur-de-lis, the crocket, trefoil, vine, 
 scroll, and other familiar details. The Gothic scroll always preserves the 
 character of its early Byzantine type, namely, that of a foliated serpentine 
 rather than a succession of spirals. Gothic capitals are of the most varied 
 forms ; their decorations are either sculptured or painted, or both. Smooth 
 capitals are mostly painted ; there are even instances on record where very 
 excellent sculpture in capitals was filled up with mortar and smoothed over 
 in order to make a surface for painted ornament. Not unfrequently most 
 exquisite sculptural work has been discovered in capitals that were thus 
 plastered up. The sculptures of this period either represent human figures 
 or subjects from the animal and vegetable kingdoms, or various human 
 pursuits. Entire historical representations are also sometimes met with on 
 capitals, or clerical processions or symbolic groups, whose import it is fre- 
 quently difficult to interpret. 
 
 The improvement of windows in the pointed style was gradual : at first 
 they were small and simple ; then coupled ; next coupled with a perforated 
 foil rosette between their heads ; the desire for greater ornament with the 
 windows became more and more complicated, and designing patterns for win- 
 dows became a special art, — the art of tracery. One centre mullion not being 
 found sufiicient to admit of many variations of design, three, five, and even 
 seven were introduced. Rosette windows occur as late as the fifteenth cen- 
 tury ; but their strictly circular form was gradually abandoned for convex- 
 sided triangles or polygons with strictly geometrical divisions. Such windows 
 of the purest taste are very numerous in Germany. 
 
 The characteristic of the pointed-arch Gothic church is the bell-tower or 
 spire. Its lower portion is usually a square building, or tower proper, 
 which at a certain height passes into a circular or polygonal form, and then 
 tapers to a point to form a spire or steeple. The bells are usually hung in 
 
192 'The Antefix Papers. 
 
 the upper part of the tower, below the pyramidion, and their position is 
 marked on the exterior by the belfry window or other aperture for the escape 
 of the sound. 
 
 In the fifteenth century, the tasteful distribution of ornaments over the 
 entire building was discontinued to make room for a meretricious decoration 
 of single parts. Ornaments ceased to be purely constructive, and therefore 
 true. Hence it is that from this time we begin to trace a decline. 
 
Historical Ornament. 
 
 193 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 HISTORICAL ORNAMENT. 
 
 ( Continued.) 
 
 The history of Byzantine ornament begins when Constantine established 
 his new seat of government on the shores of the Bosphorus, A. D. 330. 
 Byzantine is derived from Byzantium, the ancient name of Constantinople. 
 
 In the new capital, churches, palaces, and private dwellings, triumphal 
 arches and public baths, rapidly arose in great number and magnificence ; and 
 the Rome of the East, under the auspices of the renowned emperor, soon 
 rivalled the past splendors of that other imperial city, now fast falling into 
 ruin on the banks of the Tiber. 
 
 To get an idea of pure Byzantine ornament, the attention of the investigator 
 must first be turned to the wonderful Mosque of St. Sophia at Constantinople, 
 rebuilt by Justinian on the site of a church which had been built and burned 
 during the reign of Constantine. 
 
 The Cathedral of St. Sophia was erected 500 years after the birth of Christ, 
 under the supervision of Justinian and two famous architects, Isidorus of 
 Miletus and Anthemius of Tralles. To enrich it, Palmyra, Ephesus, and 
 Pegamus were despoiled, and very many cities of renown utterly stripped of 
 their art treasures. The two architects had a hundred master-builders under 
 them, and each one of these hundred workmen, who were paid stone by stone, 
 extra pay for extra work. The expense of the structure was so enormous, 
 that all the wealth Justinian could apply to it, and all the free gifts that flowed 
 in upon him for it, were not sufficient without increased taxation, tributes from 
 the provinces, and spoils from conquered nations, all of which were required 
 to fill the public treasury with the means to finish it. 
 
 Byzantine art reached its climax with the completion of St. Sophia, and when 
 Justinian made his famous declaration, " Solomon, I have outdone thee ! " 
 the whole civilized world about him believed it. In fact, the edifice is regarded 
 to this day, by many eminent architects, as the greatest marvel of building 
 construction in existence. 
 
 Before the transfer of the Roman Empire to Byzantium all the arts there 
 were either in a state of decline or process of transformation, and Constantine 
 soon found himself under the necessity of employing artists and workmen of 
 
 25 
 
194 Antefix Papers, 
 
 many schools. Thus it is that the peculiar characteristics of Byzantine 
 ornament are outgrowths of other styles. 
 
 Much of the decoration known as Byzantine is easily traced to the temples 
 and churches of Asia Minor. Constantine continually employed the artists 
 of Rome, Syria, and Persia in the decoration of his Eastern capital, and there 
 speedily wrought a change in the traditional Roman styles of ornament. 
 
 The symbolism of the early Christians was largely adopted by the work- 
 men under Constantine. Thus the cross, emblem of eternal life among 
 all the nations of the earth, became the favorite and most prominent symbol. 
 Very many of the emblems used by pagan nations were appropriated after 
 a change of meaning had been given to them. That which would have 
 been deemed offensive, in one sense, became revered and welcomed through a 
 different interpretation. The Bacchanalian subjects of the ancients became 
 typical of the vineyard of faith, sometimes of the Last Supper ; and the ear of 
 corn, standing for the favor of the gods among the pagans, became the symbol 
 of plenty in Byzantine decoration. The palm-branch, indicative of pagan 
 victories, typified Christian triumphs in the church. The dove of Venus 
 became the Holy Spirit ; Isis, mother of the Egyptian Horus, " Our Blessed 
 Lady"; and the stag of Diana, the soul thirsting for living waters. The eagle 
 and the lion, attributes of the Roman gods, became symbols, of the two 
 evangelists, St. Jerome and St. John, while the phcenix, the pelican, the crown, 
 the fish, the griffin, the lamb, the peacock, the anchor, the monogram, the lyre, 
 the standard, and many other pagan emblems, became Christian under the 
 Christian decorators. 
 
 The great division of the Christians into two opposite and hostile parties, 
 the Greek Church and the Latin Church, was mainly brought about by the 
 refusal of the Bishop of Rome to obey the orders of the Patriarch of Con- 
 stantinople in regard to the destruction of all pagan sculptures and pictures 
 not adopted by the Eastern Church. 
 
 Ttirkish Ornament. — Although the Turks and the Arabians have the same 
 religion, yet, being of different national origin, their art representations are, 
 as might be expected, somewhat different. The architecture of the Turks, as 
 seen at Constantinople, is mainly based upon that of the early Byzantine mon- 
 uments, with the exception of their modern edifices, which are designed in the 
 most European style. Their system of ornamentation is of a mixed character, 
 — Arabian and Persian floral ornaments being found side by side with 
 debased Roman and Renaissance details. The art instinct of the Turks is 
 quite inferior to that of the East Indians. The only good examples we have 
 of Turkish ornamentation is to be seen in Turkey carpets, and these are 
 chiefly executed in Asia Minor and most probably not by the Turks. The 
 designs are thoroughly Arabic. 
 
 Moresque or Moorish Ornament. — The ornamental art of the Moors, who 
 established the seat of their power in Spain during the eighth century, furnishes 
 us with another illustration of the results produced by corresponding influences 
 f religious faith, and diversities of national character. The main differences 
 Detween the Arabian and Moorish edifices consist in that the former are rather 
 
Historical Ornament, 
 
 distinguished for their grandeur, the latter for their refinement and elegance. 
 In ornamentation the Moors were unsurpassed, and in it they carried out the 
 principles of true art even more than the Greeks. 
 
 Arabian and Moorish art were alike wanting in symbolism, but the Moors 
 compensated for this want by the beauty of their ornamental written inscrip- 
 tions and the nobleness of the sentiments expressed by them. To the artist 
 these inscriptions furnished the most exquisite lessons in art ; to the people they 
 proclaimed the might, majesty, and good deeds of the king ; and to the king 
 they never ceased to declare that there was none powerful but God, that He 
 alone was conqueror, and that to Him alone was ever due praise and glory. 
 A law of the Mohammedan religion forbade the representation of animals or 
 of the human figure. 
 
 In the best specimens of Moorish architecture decoration always arises 
 naturally from construction ; and although every part of the surface may 
 be decorated, there is never a useless or a superfluous ornament. All lines 
 grow out of one another in natural undulations, and every ornament can be 
 traced to its branch or root. There is no such thing as an ornament jotted 
 down merely to fill a space, without any other reason for its existence. 
 
 The best Moorish ornamentation is found in the Alhambra, a celebrated 
 palace of the Moorish kings, at Granada, in Spain. This immense and justly 
 famous structure, of rather forbidding exterior, but gorgeous within almost be- 
 yond description, was erected in the thirteenth century, and much of it remains 
 perfect to the present day. It has been said by a competent judge that " every 
 principle which we can derive from the study of the ornamental art of any other 
 people is not only ever present here, but was more universally and truly obeyed 
 by the Moors than by any other people." And further, that " we find in the 
 Alhambra, the speaking art of the Egyptians, the natural grace and refine- 
 ment of the Greeks, and the geometrical combinations of the Romans, the 
 Byzantines, and the Arabs." The walls of the Alhambra were covered with 
 a profusion of ornamentation, which had the appearance of a congeyes of 
 paintings, incrustations, mosaics, gilding, and foliage, and nothing could be 
 more splendid and brilliant than the effects that resulted from their combina- 
 tions. The mode of piercing the domes for light, by means of star-like 
 openings, produced an almost magical effect. 
 
 Persian Orna7nent. — The Mohammedan architecture of Persia, and Per- 
 sian ornamentation, are alike mixed in style, and are far inferior to the Arabian 
 as exhibited in the buildings at Cairo. The Persians, unlike the Arabs and 
 the Moors, mixed up the forms of natural flowers and animal life with con- 
 ventional ornament. 
 
 East Indian Ornament. — Numerous manufactures calculated to give a 
 high idea of the ingenuity and taste of the people of British India, were shown 
 at the Great Exhibition of the Industry of All Nations, in London, in 185 1. 
 Among these were various articles in agate from Bombay, mirrors from Lahore, 
 marble chairs from Ajmeer, embroidered shawls, scarfs, etc., from Cashmere, 
 carpets from Bangalore, and a variety of articles in iron inlaid with silver. In 
 the application of art to manufactures the East Indians exhibit great unity 
 
196 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 of design, skill, and judgment, combined with great elegance and refine- 
 ment in execution. In these repects they seem far to surpass the 
 Europeans, who, says Mr. Owen Jones, " in a fruitless struggle after novelty, 
 irrespective of fitness, base their designs upon a system of copying and mis- 
 applying the received forms of beauty of every by-gone style of art." All 
 the laws of the distribution of form which are observed in the Arabian and 
 Moresque ornaments are equally to be found in the productions of India, 
 while the coloring of the latter is said to be so perfectly harmonized that it is 
 impossible to find a discord. This, of course, refers to the selected articles 
 placed on exhibition in 1851. 
 
 Hindoo Ornament. — We have but little reliable information about the 
 ancient or Hindoo architecture of India ; yet we know this much, — that the 
 Hindoos had definite rules of architectural proportion and symmetry. One of 
 their ancient precepts, quoted by a modern writer, says, " Woe to them who 
 dwell in a house not built according to the proportions of symmetry ! In 
 building an edifice, therefore, let all its parts, from the basement to the roof, 
 be duly considered." 
 
 The architectural features of Hindoo buildings consist chiefly of mouldings 
 heaped up one over the other. There is very little marked character in their 
 ornaments, which are never elaborately profuse, and which show both an 
 Egyptian and a Grecian influence. 
 
 Chinese Ornament. — Notwithstanding the great antiquity of Chinese civ- 
 ilization, and the perfection reached in their manufacturing processes, ages 
 before our time, the Chinese do not appear to have made much advance in the 
 fine arts. They show very little appreciation of pure form, beyond geometri- 
 cal patterns ; but they possess the happy instinct of harmonizing colors. 
 Their decoration is of a very primitive kind. The Chinese are totally unim- 
 aginative, and their ornamentation is a very faithful expression of the natural 
 characteristic of this peculiar people, — oddness. 
 
 Celiac Ornament. — The Celts, the early inhabitants of the British Isles, 
 had a style of ornamentation peculiarly their own, and singularly at 
 variance with anything to be found in any other part of the world. 
 Celtic ornament was doubtless of independent origin, but it everywhere bears 
 the impress received by the early introduction of Christianity into the islands. 
 
 The chief peculiarities of Celtic ornament consist, first, in the entire 
 absence of foliage or other vegetable ornament ; and secondly, in the extreme 
 intricacy and excessive minuteness and elaboration of the various patterns, 
 mostly geometrical, consisting of interlaced ribbon-work ; diagonal, straight, 
 or spiral hnes ; and strange, monstrous animals or birds, with their tail- 
 feathers, top-knots, and tongues prolonged into long interlacing ribbons, which 
 are intertwined in almost endless forms, and in the most fantastic manner. 
 Celtic manuscripts of the Gospels were often ornamented with a great pro- 
 fusion of these intricate designs. 
 
 What is called Celtic ornamentation was practised throughout Great 
 Britain and Ireland, from the fourth or fifth to the tenth or eleventh centuries. 
 There was a later Anglo-Saxon ornamentation, equally elaborate, employed 
 in the decoration of manuscripts of the Gospels and other holy writings ; but 
 
Historical Ornament 
 
 197 
 
 here leaves, stems, birds, etc., were introduced, and interwoven with gold 
 bars, circles, squares, lozenges, quatrefoils, etc. 
 
 Mediceval or Gothic Ornainent. — The high-pitched gable and the pointed 
 arch, with towers, columns, and capitals, of consequently slender proportions, 
 are the leading characteristics of mediaeval or Gothic architecture, which 
 came into general use in Europe in the thirteenth century. Mediaeval Gothic 
 art, like the Egyptian, was symbolic, deriving its types from the prevailing 
 religious ideas of the period. Thus the churches and the cathedrals of the 
 Middle Ages were built in the form of a cross, — the sign and symbol of the 
 Christian faith. The numbers three, five, and seven, denoting the Trinity, 
 the five traditional wounds of the Saviour, and the seven Sacraments, were 
 preserved as emblematical in the nave and two aisles, in the trefoiled arches 
 and windows, in the foils of the tracery, and in the seven leaflets of the 
 sculptured foliage ; while the narrow-pointed arches and the numerous 
 finger-like pinnacles rising above the gloom of the dimly-lighted place of 
 worship, symbolized the faith which pointed upward from the trials of 
 earth to the happy homes of the redeemed. The transition from the 
 Romanesque (later Roman) or rounded style to the pointed, is easily traced 
 in numerous buildings where the two styles are intermingled ; but the 
 passage from Romanesque ornament to Gothic is not so clear. In the latter, 
 new combinations of ornaments and tracery suddenly arise. The piercings 
 for windows become clustered in groups, soon to be moulded into a network 
 of enveloping tracery ; the acanthus leaf disappears ; in the capitals of 
 columns of pure Gothic style, the ornament springs directly from the shaft, 
 which, above the necking, is split into a series of stems, each terminating in 
 a conventional flower, the whole being quite analogous to the Egyptian mode 
 of decorating the capital. 
 
 In the interior of the early Gothic buildings, every moulding had that color 
 best adapted to develop its form ; and from the floor to the roof there was not 
 an inch of space without its appropriate ornament, the whole producing an effect 
 grand almost beyond description. But so suddenly did this profuse style 
 of ornament attain its perfection, that it almost immediately began to decline. 
 What is called "ornamental illumination," that is, the decoration of writing 
 by means of colors, and especially the decoration of the initial letters in 
 pages of manuscript, attained a high degree of perfection under the Gothic 
 influence. 
 
 Renaissance Ornament. — The fact that the soil of Italy was so covered 
 with the remains of Roman greatness that it was impossible for the Italians 
 to forget them, however they might neglect the lessons they were calculated 
 to teach, was probably the reason why Gothic art took but little root in Italy, 
 where it was ever regarded as of barbarian origin. When, in the fifteenth 
 century, classical learning revived in Italy, and the art of printing dissemi- 
 nated literary treasures, a taste for classic art revived also. The style of orna- 
 mentation to which it gave rise, having been formed upon classic models, was 
 called the Renaissance style, and the period of its glory the Restoration or 
 Renaissance period. 
 
 A combination of architecture and decorative sculpture was a distinguishing 
 
198 
 
 2 he Aritefix Papers. 
 
 feature of the Renaissance style. Figures, foliage, and conventional orna- 
 ments were so happily blended with mouldings and other structural forms, 
 as to convey the idea that the whole had sprung to life in one perfect form, in 
 the mind of the artist by whom the work was executed. To Raphael (early in 
 the sixteenth century), both sculptor and painter, we owe the most splendid 
 specimens of the Arabesque style, which he dignified and left complete. 
 Arabesques lose their character when applied to large objects ; neither are 
 they appropriate where gravity of style is required. 
 
 All the great painters of Italy were ornamental sculptors also. Their 
 sculptured ornaments were ingeniously arranged on different planes, instead 
 of on one uniform flat surface, so as best to show the diversities of light and 
 shade. Much of the splendid painting done by the Italian masters, from 
 Giotto to Raphael, — from the year 1290 to 1520, — was mural decoration, 
 now generally called fresco. 
 
 Elizabethan Ornament. — The revival of art in Italy soon spread over 
 France and Gei-many, and about the year 1520 extended into England, where 
 it soon triumphed over the late Gothic style. The true Elizabethan period 
 of art embraced only about a century. It is simply a modification of foreign 
 models, and has little claim to originality. 
 
 The characteristics of Elizabethan ornament may be described as consist- 
 ing chiefly of a grotesque and complicated variety of pierced scroll-work, with 
 curled edges ; interlaced bands, sometimes arranged geometrically, but 
 generally flowing and capricious ; curved and broken outlines ; festoons, 
 fruit, and drapery, interspersed with roughly-executed figures of human 
 beings, grotesque monsters, and animals, with here and there large and 
 flowing designs of natural branch and leaf ornament ; rustic ball and diamond 
 work ; panelled compartments, often filled with foliage or coats of arms, etc. 
 etc., — the whole founded on exaggerated models of the early Renaissance 
 school. By the middle of the seventeenth century the more marked charac- 
 teristics of the Elizabethan style had completely died out. 
 
 Concerning modern ornamental art little can be said in this lecture, because 
 the subject requires a very extensive knowledge of all the ornamentation of 
 any value that has been done since the dechne of Elizabethan decoration. 
 One thing, however, of very great importance, should be noticed. It is this : 
 Modern design, as a whole, is almost entirely an emasculated revival of forms, 
 — the patching up, so to speak, of the artistic inventions of centuries, without 
 any regard to the subtle laws discovered and applied by ancient designers. 
 Harmony, fitness, and adaptation do not seem to appear as motive powers in 
 mociern ornamentation. Go where we may, we are almost certain to discover 
 lack of law, levity of choice, or paucity of thought. Beauty and utility are 
 rarely found in the things exposed for sale, or in those offered to our sight 
 by decorators. Perhaps the main cause of this falling away from the good 
 and true in design, is the popular demand for those things that can be quickly 
 disposed of, without the least regard to the great need in human nature of 
 intellectual rest and perpetual joy. The cure for this state of things is sound 
 art education for the people at large. 
 
Historic Schools of Painting, 199 
 
 XXVIIL 
 
 HISTORIC SCHOOLS OF PAINTING DOWN TO 
 THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 The history of ancient art in all nations or countries seems to be a record 
 of the rise and fall of their different forms of religion. The arts of India, 
 Asia, Africa, Greece, Italy, and Spain have been controlled by, and were in a 
 great measure dependent upon, the respective religions of those countries ; 
 and their degree of perfection seems to have been governed by the relative 
 social position of artists in those countries and the respect in which they were 
 held. In Greece, where religion was held in the highest esteem, art reached 
 its greatest degree of excellence. 
 
 Judging from the remains of art in India, sculpture seems to have been 
 pre-eminent among the arts — at least, we possess much better examples of it, 
 owing perhaps to its greater durability ; still there are a few remains of 
 ancient painting extant in India. Indian art was, like that of all Eastern 
 nations, purely symbolical and hieroglyphic, showing no knowledge of per- 
 spective or chiaro-oscuro. 
 
 Two periods are assigned to it, — the Braminical and the Buddhist, — to 
 which all existing remains belong. The old Bramins, like the hierarchy of 
 Egypt, held the arts under their control, and applied them essentially to reli- 
 gious purposes. In the neighborhood of the Ganges and the coasts ol 
 Malabar, painting has existed from a very remote period. The most impor- 
 tant early examples of Indian painting are executed with a hair pencil in 
 water colors, upon chalk grounds, and are remarkably clear and bright ; but 
 as regards form, light, shade, and composition, they resemble the crudest 
 specimens of mediaeval art in Europe. The characteristic designs were the 
 symplegmas, or beast aggregates, consisting of bodies of many beasts or 
 human beings united into one figure, commonly representing the attributes of 
 their deities. 
 
 The modern Indians have practised portrait painting to a considerable 
 extent, and are also acquainted with the use of oil colors ; still they have 
 no idea of middle tints or harmony of coloring. They possess great power 
 as copyists, and their portraits are distinguished by the great exactness of 
 the features, but are without individuality of expression. 
 
200 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 The Chinese are brilliant colorists and exact in the rendering of detail, but 
 they show a total lack of power in drawing the human form. 
 
 The Japanese excel their continental neighbors in beauty of design and 
 knowledge of outline, and are more skilful in delineating the human figure. 
 
 It is extremely difficult to separate the history of painting in Egypt from 
 that of sculpture, as it was subordinate to the latter. Being purely symbolic 
 and historic in its representations, it was the tool of the powerful priesthood. 
 All Egyptian pictures appear to be simple records, either social, religious, or 
 political ; and Egyptian painting was accordingly rather a symbolic writing 
 than a liberal art. The history of art in Egypt may be divided into three 
 periods, namely, those of the ancient, the middle, and the new empire ; the 
 first being that of the pyramid builders, and the second that which followed 
 the expulsion of the Hyksos or Shepherd Kings, soon after which Rhamses 
 the Great, or Sesostris, reigned. The period of the beginning of Egyptian 
 art dates back to about B. C. 5000 ; and the third or Saitic period ends in 
 B. C. 525, when Egypt was subdued by the Persians under Cambyses, and 
 became a Persian province. A fourth period embraces the style of Egyptian 
 art under foreign influences, and may be divided into two epochs. The first 
 epoch is that of the Ptolemies, from B. C. 332 until the death of Marcus An- 
 toninus, B. C. 30. The second epoch is that of the Roman Emperors, after 
 the conquest, from B. C. 30 to A. D. 638, when Egypt was invaded by the 
 Arabs ; thus this fourth period extends from B. C. 232 to A. D. 638. 
 
 Plato states that painters and sculptors were forbidden to introduce 
 any change whatever into the practice of their respective arts, or in any way 
 to add to them : thus their works remained uniform from one generation to 
 another. 
 
 Painting in Egypt is undoubtedly of great antiquity and coeval with sculp- 
 ture. One of the early pictures on record is an Egyptian painting of Amasis, 
 who sent his portrait to the Greeks at Gyrene ; and it is probable that it 
 was in complete full face, painted upon panel, as such portraits have been 
 found in mummy-cases, and are among the best specimens of Egyptian painting 
 extant. Three classes of painting have been discovered in Egypt, — those on 
 walls, on mummy-cases and on cloth, and those on papyrus rolls. The two 
 latter are mostly hieroglyphic. All have a common character ; none are 
 strictly imitative, although enough so to be intelligible. One of their most 
 striking characteristics is the brilliancy of their colors ; paintings of the 
 most ancient date, B. G. 4000, still show colors in their primitive freshness. 
 
 Beyond drawing, there is scarcely a principle of pictorial art yet discovered 
 in any Egyptian painting. Relief is expressed by light and shade ; animals 
 and birds are generally rendered with perfect intelligence, especially in sculp- 
 ture, in which they have a positive form, but in painting they are flat. In 
 no painting is there the slightest trace of perspective. Egyptian art was not 
 without its influence on all surrounding nations ; and after the overthrow of 
 Thebes by Gambyses, the Persians carried home with them a large colony of 
 Egyptian artists, whose influence is easily traceable in Persian art, it being 
 evident that they worked under the influence of the Persian priesthood 
 instead of their own. 
 
Historic Schools of Painting. 
 
 201 
 
 Few if any productions of the Grecian pencil remain to enable us to form 
 a judgment apart from the opinions of ancient critics, and the greater part 
 of our information about them is drawn from the writings of Aristotle, Pliny, 
 and other authors. Painting was in an advanced stage in Asia Minor before it 
 made any great progress in Greece itself. In Egypt and Assyria, it had been 
 employed merely as an accessory to heighten the effect of architecture and 
 sculpture, but in Greece it first became an independent art. In the early 
 Greek vases we are able to recognize the painter as an artist distinct from 
 the sculptor and the architect. The most ancient vase paintings display con- 
 siderable knowledge of the human figure, and of its right balance in action and 
 in repose, combined with a feeling for beauty and grace, though there is no 
 attempt at subtle combinations or gradations of color, — for the painter was 
 limited to white, red, yellow, and black, — no indication of chiaro-oscuro, as 
 in contemporary bas-reliefs, and no trace of knowledge of perspective. Noth- 
 ing, on the other hand, can be more beautiful than the ornamentation of early 
 Greek vases, in which different surfaces are contrasted with each other ; or 
 more spirited and graceful than the figures represented upon them, in spite 
 of their strictly conventional treatment. The first painting on record is the 
 Battle of Magnesia, by Bularchus, 718 B.C. With this the first era of Grecian 
 painting begins. During five centuries the art had previously flourished in 
 the cities and islands of Greece, and was practised by various masters ; it 
 passed through many gradations, from the simple shadow painting, the 
 monograph of simple outlines, to monochromatic and polychromatic com- 
 positions. 
 
 From the middle of the sixth century, a decided improvement commenced 
 in painting. Cimon of Cleonae lived about 520 B. C. ; he is recorded as the 
 inventor of foreshortening, or as the first who took oblique views of the 
 figure ; he also first marked articulations, indicated veins, and represented 
 folds naturally in drapery. A century later, Polygnotus of Thasos lived at 
 Athens, 463 B. C., and decorated the celebrated portico Poecile, and the 
 Lesche or public hall at Delphi. He had great command of color, and 
 power of depicting multitudes in a spirited and lifelike manner ; he attempted 
 only profile figures, and painted shadows in a purely rudimentary manner. 
 At Delphi, the figures were apparently arranged in zones and groups, one 
 above another, with no use of linear or aerial perspective. The style 
 of Polygnotus is to that of the Alexandrian period, what the Florentine 
 school, in the time of Michelangelo, was to that of Bologna subsequent to the 
 Caracci. There is a memorable passage in the Poetics of Aristotle regarding 
 this painter. He says that ''imitation must either be superior, inferior, or 
 else equal to its model" ; and he illustrates these remarks by instancing the 
 style of three painters. " Dionysius," he says, " paints men as they are, Pau- 
 son worse, and Polygnotus better than they are." Improvement was carried 
 on for half a century by Mycon, famous for his horses ; Pauson, his rival ; 
 Dionysius of Colophon, praised for minute accuracy; Aglaophon, for boldness 
 and energy ; Colotes, sculptor and painter ; Erenor, father of Parrhasius ; and 
 finally, greatest of all, Apollodorus the Athenian, who invented and perfected 
 26 
 
202 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 the knowledge of light and shade. With this artist terminates the second 
 era, about the commencement of the fourth century B. C. 
 
 The third era, which commences with Zeuxis, is distinct at once in 
 principle and excellence. Preceding masters had crowded their tablets 
 with figures : he introduced simplicity of composition, and frequently relied 
 upon the perfection of a single figure as a concentrated point of interest. He 
 was also simple in his coloring, never using more than four, often only 
 two pigments. Parrhasius equalled Zeuxis in expression, and seems to 
 have surpassed him in color. Their contemporaries and followers were 
 Euphranor, Timanthes, Theon of Samos, and Aristides of Thebes. The 
 Asiatic school, founded by Parrhasius, Zeuxis, and their followers, was dis- 
 tinct from the older Grecian school, which had its seat at Athens. 
 
 The Alexandrian period has been termed the period of refinement in painting. 
 The characteristics of the painters of this time lay rather in greater variety of 
 effect and execution than in any essential qualities of art. The various 
 masters differed chiefly in external qualities, and much the same transition 
 from the essential to the sensuous took place in the Greek schools of painting in 
 the time of Alexander, as in the schools of Italy in the seventeenth century. 
 
 The celebrated school of Pamphilus was established at Sicyou in the early 
 part of the fourth century B. C, and effected important results in Greek 
 art. The course of study occupied ten years, and comprehended instruction 
 in drawing, arithmetic, geometry, anatomy, and paintings in all its branches. 
 Pamphilus was a kind of Leonardo da Vinci, the first painter, says Pliny, who 
 was skilled in all sciences, particularly arithmetic and geometry, without which 
 he denied that art could be perfected. His pupils were Apelles and Melan- 
 thius, Protogenes of Cannus, Nicomachus and Aristides, Theban brothers, 
 Pausias of Sicyou ; Nicias, of Athens ; Euphranor the Isthurian, Athenion of 
 Maronea, and Theon of Samos, all of the greatest fame and nearly all dis- 
 tinct in character, though probably on an equality in the general character of 
 their design and execution. 
 
 The fourth era of Grecian painting commences with Apelles, about the 
 end of the fourth century B. C. In him Greek art reached its fullest devel- 
 opment. His chief characteristics were his feeling for grace and beauty, his 
 skill in portraiture, and the chaste simplicity of his coloring ; he united in 
 his style the scattered excellences of his predecessors and contemporaries. 
 From the descriptions of ancient writers his style must have closely resembled 
 that of Raphael, while his choice of subjects appears to have been similar. 
 His age witnessed both the glory and fall of ancient art. After the death of 
 Alexander, painting steadily declined : the grand style was still cultivated for 
 many centuries, but a marked preference was shown for the realistic style 
 and for painting of a secondary class, now called The most celebrated 
 
 Greek genre painter was Pyreicus, who painted shops, and still life of every 
 description. Caricature was also greatly in favor in this degenerate age. 
 
 The enthusiasm with which the Etruscans cultivated the art of painting is 
 manifested in the many mural paintings discovered in their tombs, in which 
 the gradual development from the conventional Egyptian style to the perfected 
 Greek may be traced. In the earlier specimens we see the straight lines, 
 
Historic Schools of Painting. 
 
 203 
 
 the oblong faces, and the parallel folds of drapery common in Eastern sculp- 
 ture, while in the later we find the easy grace of Greek art. 
 
 No great school of classic painting ever flourished in classic Rome : all works 
 were by Greek artists or reproductions of Greek masterpieces. The Roman 
 emperors, on the subjugation of Greece, robbed it of its treasures of art to em- 
 bellish their own land. There were three periods in the history of painting in 
 Rome, — the first, or Graeco-Roman, begins with the establishment of the 
 Empire ; the second extends from the time of Augustus to that of Diocletian ; 
 and the third is reached under Constantine, the period of decay, in the begin- 
 ning of the fourth century. The pictures found at Pompeii and Herculaneum, 
 at the Baths of Titus, and in the numerous subterranean tombs near Rome, 
 are painted in distemper ; no true fresco painting has as yet been discovered, 
 although some of the walls are colored in fresco. The leading peculiarity of 
 these paintings is the intensity of their coloring, accounted for by the well- 
 known custom in Italy of darkening 'rooms in the day-time, the lower portion 
 of the walls being painted in the strongest colors, the upper in white or very 
 faint tints, thus giving repose to the eye. The paintings of the Baths of Titus 
 surpass those of Pompeii ; they contain the arabesques from which Raphael 
 took his ideas for the decoration of the Vatican, and are remarkable for imagi- 
 nation, variety, and harmony of coloring. Roman painting, properly so called, 
 was chiefly portraiture, in which considerable excellence appears to have been 
 obtained. Marcus Ludius was a celebrated portrait-painter and decorator in 
 the time of Augustus ; he combined beauty of composition with truth of char- 
 acter : but Roman artists never got beyond the simplest effects of light and 
 shade, or the most rudimentary knowledge of perspective. Numerous speci- 
 mens of Roman mosaic have come down to us. The mosaic in the celebrated 
 house the " Casa del Fauno " at Pompeii, which is supposed to represent one 
 of Alexander's battles, displays thorough command of foreshortening and 
 perspective, and is probably a copy of some famous ancient work. 
 
 Ancient art, as distinguished by its characteristics, may perhaps be said to 
 have died out at about the close of the third century of the Christian era. The 
 establishment of Christianity, the division of the empire, and the incursions 
 of the barbarians were the first great causes of the decay of the imitative arts 
 and the serious check which they received. The fury of the iconoclasts or 
 image-breakers effectually destroyed all traces of ancient art. The foundation 
 of Constantinople and the establishment of the Exarchate at Ravenna were 
 serious blows to the magnificence of Rome. Byzantium, the Rome of the 
 East, became enriched by the spoils of all the principal cities of Europe and 
 Asia, and outshone Rome itself. During the period of persecution the sole 
 attempt at anything like art among the early Christians was in the decoration 
 of the catacombs. These were ornamented with simple frescos during the 
 first two centuries, and owing to the hatred of everything which could recall 
 the old idolatry, symbols alone were employed. As Roman power declined 
 and with it its monopoly of art forms, the love of art innate in every native 
 of Greece and Italy, once more asserted its sway, and in the third and fourth 
 centuries the early Christians were permitted to adorn the catacombs with 
 
204 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 something more than formal signs : thus Christ is then represented as The 
 Good Shepherd, and as Orpheus taming the beasts with his lyre. In the 
 paintings of the fifth century we note a further advar.ce : the portrait of Christ 
 differs essentially from the old Greek idea and is of a purely Christian type. 
 
 The chief characteristics of early Christian painting as exhibited in the 
 catacombs, are a simple earnestness and majesty, and a grandeur of compo- 
 sition but little inferior to the frescos of the best age of the old empire, 
 combined with what we may call a spirituality peculiarly their own. On the 
 recognition of Christianity as the religion of the State, in the time of Constan- 
 tine. Christian painting was called upon to decorate the vast basilicas and 
 churches appropriated to the new worship. At first tempera and encaustic 
 colors were employed, but were soon supplanted by mosaics. The only 
 existing remains of the fourth century are of a purely decorative character. 
 In the fifth and succeeding centuries, attempts were made to produce his- 
 torical pictures in mosaic, but the intractability of the material led to a 
 general preference for subjects which could be treated simply. As we 
 advance further and further from the times of persecution, we note an ever- 
 widening difference between the paintings of the catacombs and the church 
 mosaics : the spirit which had unconsciously influenced the artist of the cat- 
 acombs is almost extinct ; the symbolism is gone, and instead of scenes of 
 suffering and death we have the Saviour enthroned in glory. The Virgin 
 was not represented until the latter part of the fifth century. In the fifth 
 century, mosaics were produced, now considered the best in Rome, in which 
 the saints appear in natural groups and attitudes, instead of in the stiff, 
 parallel rows subsequently adopted. The whole period, from the establish- 
 ment of Christianity in the fourth and fifth centuries, until the revival of 
 arts and letters, has been termed the Dark Ages. Fallen as every liberal 
 pursuit was at that time, painting was still never extinct. Incessant wars, 
 pests, and famines had driven all studiously inclined persons to seek the 
 retirement and protection of the cloister, and had rendered the convents the 
 conservatories of literature and the arts ; among these, that of St. Gall, of 
 Switzerland, is particularly noticed for having produced the most celebrated 
 German sculptors, painters, and gold-workers of their time. 
 
 The illumination of manuscripts, which flourished in the time of Charle- 
 magne, is considered as a connecting link between ancient and modern 
 painting. The Anglo-Saxons were for a long time the best illuminators ; the 
 Irish also held high rank, while the Byzantines surpassed the Latins. 
 
 Soon after the conquest of Italy by the Lombards, Christian art branched 
 off into two schools, to which the names of the late Roman or Byzantine have 
 been given. It did not rise to importance until the sixth century, and its 
 predominance marks the deepest decline of Italian art. The leading 
 characteristics of Byzantine painting, which it has retained until the present 
 day, are the use of flat gold grounds instead of the blue hitherto preferred ; 
 a stiff treatment of the human figure ; rigid, conventional forms, wholly 
 devoid of beauty ; and great neatness and carefulness of execution. The 
 ardent controversy as to the personal appearance of Christ, in which the 
 
Historic Schools of Painting. 
 
 205 
 
 Romans maintained that he "was the fairest of men, and the Byzantine 
 Greeks that he had no beauty of person, exercised a great influence on the 
 art of the East and West, and accounts in a great measure for the difference 
 in the treatment of sacred subjects by the two schools. 
 
 Until the thirteenth century Venice was little more than a Byzantine 
 colony, and the mosaics of St. Mark are very pure examples of Byzantine 
 style. In decorative painting the geometrical mosaics are very ingenious in 
 pattern and always good in color. From the thirteenth century Byzantine 
 art steadily declined. The formative arts made a surprising and compara- 
 tively sudden progress in the thirteenth century. The Latin conquest of 
 Constantinople in 1204, by which Greek artists were established in Italy, as 
 well as the fusion of the conquering races of Sicily, the Normans and the 
 Arabs, contributed to this result. The distinctive feature of the revival of 
 art is that it became imitative as well as representative, although in the first 
 two centuries the imitation was more imaginative than real. The art of looking 
 at Nature had to be learned before she could be imitated. Among the first 
 painters to take part in the new movement were Giunta, of Pisa ; Guido, of 
 Sienna; Bonaventura Berlinghieri, of Lucca; Margaritone, of Arezzo (1236- 
 
 ) ; Maestro Bartolommeo, of Florence ; and Andrea Tafi (12 13 \ the 
 
 greatest mosaic worker of the thirteenth century, — all Byzantine in style, 
 but affected by the stirring of a new life in art. 
 
 In the works of Giovanni Cimabue (1240-1302), the founder of modern 
 Italian painting, there is a decided advance in the representation of form an,d 
 in the expression of action, although his figures are still of the long-drawn By- 
 zantine type. He is the first great painter of the Florentine or Tuscan school. 
 His most distinguished contemporary was Duccio di Buoninsegna, of Sienna, 
 who was to the school of Sienna what Cimabue was to that of Florence. 
 Italian painting in the time of Giotto branched off into two distinct 
 styles, which are expressed by two schools, those of Florence and Sienna. 
 The Florentines derived their practice, to a certain extent, from the early 
 Siennese masters, and were distinguished for vigor of conception and 
 richness of composition. The Siennese were distinguished for warmth of 
 feeling and grace in the treatment of single figures. At the head of the 
 Florentine school stands Giotto (1276- 1366), who was the first to free himself 
 from Byzantine tradition, and who exercised a lasting influence on art in every 
 part of Italy. His constant study of nature and steadfast resistance to all that 
 was false or unreal in art effected a great reformation in painting. In knowl- 
 edge of form and perspective he was deficient ; but his force of conception, his 
 power of preserving a right balance in complicated groups, and of expressing 
 natural character, and his feeling for grace of action and harmony of color, 
 justly entitle him to be regarded as the founder of the true ideal style of art, 
 and the restorer of portraiture. Giotto's colors were lighter and more roseate 
 than those of his predecessors, and were mixed with a thinner medium. 
 The principal scholars and imitators of Giotto, known as the Gioiteschi, who 
 worked in his style, were Taddeo Gaddi (1300-1367), Andrea Orcagna 
 (i 316-1376), and Tommaso di Stefano, or Giottino. The painters of the 
 
2o6 
 
 The Aniefix Papers. 
 
 Siennese school aimed rather at spiritual expression than at an exact imita- 
 tion of corporeal form. The chief was Simone di Martino, or Simone Memmi 
 (1284-1344). His followers were Pietro and Andrea di Lorenzo, and Berna 
 
 or Barna ( 1380). While painting was progressing in Tuscany it was 
 
 making nearly equal advancement in Umbria, Rome, Venice, and other parts 
 of Italy. The early Florentine and Umbrian painters had few distinctive 
 peculiarities, and the early masters of the Roman school were greatly 
 influenced by Giotto. Of these, Pietro Cavallini (1259-1344 .''), painter, 
 architect, and mosaic worker, was the most important. Towards the end of 
 the fourteenth century great progress was made at Rome, and many artists 
 rose in fame, the chief of whom was Gentile di Fabriano, the Umbrian 
 master of Jacopo Bellini, a fine colorist (i 370-1450). In Venice the struggle 
 against Byzantinism lasted long, and it was not until the last half of the four- 
 teenth century that the yoke of tradition was finally broken. The famous 
 names of this time were Maestro Paoli (1346) and Lorenzo Veneziano. 
 
 Mural painting was practised with great success in Germany and in France 
 in the Romanesque period, which includes the eleventh, twelfth, and thir- 
 teenth centuries. The best examples are in Germany. They follow the 
 antique, and are distinguished by simple earnestness and dignity, powerful 
 coloring, and appropriateness as architectural decorations. The rise of the 
 pure Gothic style was unfavorable to the progress of painting in the north of 
 Europe, the walls of churches being reduced to narrow piers ; but it was 
 atoned for by the growth of the art of glass-staining, which was carried to 
 perfection in the Gothic period. William of Cologne (1380) is the -earliest 
 German painter on record. Stephen of Cologne was his pupil, and Israel von 
 Mechenen, painter and engraver of the sixteenth century, excelled all others. 
 The school of Nuremberg attained a high rank in the fourteenth century. 
 The works of the early German schools are painted on panel with gold 
 grounds, and are distinguished for depth of coloring and careful execution of 
 details. In the technical use of water colors the painters of these schools 
 excelled all their contemporaries and predecessors, their works having as fine 
 an effect as oil. 
 
 The decorative painting of the Middle Ages, at first purely geometrical, 
 became gradually complicated by the introduction of the heads of animals or 
 birds, and the profuse use of the grotesque element which formed so distinc- 
 tive a feature of Gothic art. 
 
 The fifteenth century was a period of exceptional intellectual activity, and 
 the progress made in scientific discoveries was of great importance to the 
 arts. A considerable advance had been made in expression and imitation in 
 the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, but oil painting was still unpractised, 
 portraiture was little cultivated, perspective very imperfectly understood, and 
 landscape painting not even attempted. At the beginning of the fifteenth 
 century, however, the introduction of oil colors, the scientific study of per- 
 spective, form, and color, and a constant demand for frescos on an extensive 
 scale, led to a progressive movement in Italy which culminated in the sixteenth 
 century. During this time schools arose on every side characterized by 
 
Historic Schools of Painting. 
 
 207 
 
 excellence in one or another element of art. Until 1450 Florence led them, but 
 from that date the Neapolitan, Uinbrian, Bolognese, Venetian, and Paduan 
 schools rose into almost equal importance. 1 he artist who contributed most 
 to the pre-eminence of Florence in the early part of the fifteenth century was 
 the sculptor Lorenzo Ghiberti, in whose school the leading painters of the 
 day were formed. He perfected the imitation of nature, and applied the 
 sciences of anatomy, mathematics, and geometry to the art of design. His 
 pupils were Paolo Uccelli (i 396-1479), who gave his attention to perspective ; 
 Masolino, who advanced the knowledge of chiaro-oscuro; and Masaccio (1402- 
 1429), who excelled all his predecessors in form, expression, and composition. 
 His contemporaries, Fra Angelico da Fiesole (i 387-1455) and Fillippo 
 Lippi (1412-1469), who is named as a scholar of Masaccio, are representatives 
 of the two great classes into which the painters of the Renaissance became 
 divided, — naturalists and mystics or idealists, the former aiming at beauty 
 for its own sake, studying earnestly everything connected with the theory and 
 practice of their art, the latter cultivating beauty as the expression of all that 
 is highest and best in the material and spiritual world. Angelico's works em- 
 body the two great requisites of ideal art, expression, and pictorial power. 
 Fillippo Lippi was one of the first to paint in oil, and to cultivate the sensuous 
 side of art ; he was the first to introduce landscape backgrounds. Other 
 painters of these schools were Lippi's son Fillippino (1460-1505), Benozzo 
 Gozzoli, Andrea Castagno (1403-1477), Sandro Botticelli, Domenico Corradi 
 or Ghirlandajo (1451-1495), remarkable for portraiture, Luca Signorelli, and 
 others. 
 
 The founder of the Paduan school was Francesco Squarcione (i 394-1474), 
 who revived the study of antique sculpture. The peculiarity of the Paduan 
 school was a sculpturesque rather than a pictorial treatment of form, its works 
 resembling bas-reliefs rather than paintings. 
 
 In the school of Venice brilliancy and harmony of coloring reached their 
 fullest development. It was founded by the Bellini brothers, Giovanni (1426- 
 15 16) and Gentile (1421-1507). Giovanni was the superior. He had many 
 famous scholars, — Giorgione, Titian, Cima da Conegliano (1489-1577), Marco 
 Basaiti (1470-1520), and the brothers Vivarini. All were influenced a little 
 by the Paduan school, and combined something of its severity of form with 
 Venetian softness of coloring. 
 
 The mountainous district of upper Italy was the home of a school of paint- 
 ers who cared rather for spiritual beauty than external perfection of form. 
 The works of the early Umbrian masters remind one of the early Florentine. 
 Nicolo Alunno, the master of Perugino, gave the school its distinguishing 
 characteristic of spiritual expression, a characteristic more fully displayed in the 
 works of Perugino (1446-1524), who was famous for his coloring and knowl- 
 edge of perspective. His famous pupils were Pinturicchio (1454-15 13), Gio- 
 vanni di Pietro or Lo Spagna(died 1530), the still greater Raibolini or Francia 
 of Bologna (1450-1517), and, greatest of all, Raphael. 
 
 In the fifteenth century the Neapolitan school rose into considerable im- 
 portance ; its distinguishing peculiarity was the blending of Flemish and 
 
208 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 Umbrian features ; the details, accessories, and landscape backgrounds re- 
 mind one of the Van Eycks, and the figures of those of the Umbrian masters. 
 Its chief painters were Antonio Solario (1382-1455), Giovanni Antonio d' 
 Amato, and Silvestro de Buoni. 
 
 One other great Italian master must be mentioned before we enter the 
 Golden Age of painting. Fra Bartolomeo (1469-15 17), or Baccio della 
 Porte, or II Fratre, was the pupil of Cosimo Roselli and the contemporary 
 and friend of Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, and Michelangelo, and belonged 
 to the early Florentine school. His works are distinguished for the holy ex- 
 pression of the heads, the grandeur and grace of the draperies, and the beauty 
 of the architectural backgrounds of his pictures. He invented the wooden 
 or lay figures, so useful in studying the fall of drapery. 
 
 Before entering upon the sixteenth, let us look back upon progress in 
 the fifteenth century. Imitation of nature was no longer imaginary, but real ; 
 the laws of perspective were fathomed and applied by Uccello, Pietro 
 della Francesco, Signorelli, and their followers ; great improvement 
 was effected in form, anatomy, and physical beauty by Ghiberti and 
 Masaccio at Florence, Squarcione at Padua, and Mantegna at Mantua ; 
 spiritual beauty was embodied in the works of Fra Angelico and Fra Barto- 
 lomeo at Florence, Perugino at Rome, and Francia at Bologna ; while the 
 true principles of coloring were carried out at Venice by the Bellini, Vivarini, 
 and others. Thus the v/ay had been opened for the advent of the great mas- 
 ters. The names of pre-Raphaelite and Quattro-cento have been given to 
 the painters of the fifteenth century. 
 
 The early part of the sixteenth century was for Italian painting what the 
 age of Pericles had been for Greek sculpture. We have seen the various ele- 
 ments of excellence in painting, each forming the distinctive characteristic of 
 some one school ; but we have now to examine these elements, as they appear 
 blended in one harmonious whole, in the works of the five great masters of 
 Italy, — Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Titian, and Correggio, — 
 each of whom united command over every art element with special excellence 
 in some particulars. 
 
 Leonardo da Vinci was born at Vinci, near Florence, in 1452. He was a 
 universal genius and endowed with exceptional beauty of person. He was 
 sculptor, painter, musician, and poet, and had a thorough practical knowledge 
 of architecture, mechanics, anatomy, botany, and astronomy. His mind, like 
 a mirror, received and reflected in added brightness every ray of intellectual 
 light that fell upon it, and in his researches he anticipated the march of 
 three centuries. At thirty years of age he was called to the court of Ludo- 
 vico Sforza, Duke of Milan, and intrusted by him with the foundation of a 
 school of art. In 1499 he returned to Florence, and in 1503 he was commis- 
 sioned to paint one end of the Council Hall in the Palazzo Vecchio, of which 
 Michelangelo was to paint the other end. The cartoons of both were distin- 
 guished for the anatomical correctness of the figures, and from this period 
 the development of mere physical qualities became the predominating char- 
 acteristic of the Florentine school. In 15 17 he went to France, in the service 
 
Historic Schools of Painting. 
 
 209 
 
 of Francis I, and died at Amboise in 15 19. His chief characteristics are 
 mastery of chiaro-oscuro, grandeur of design, elevation of sentiment, and 
 dignity of expression, whilst his pupils are distinguished for what may 
 be called a reflection of his spirit, especially in the transparency of shadows 
 and sweetness of facial expression. Of these pupils, Bernardino Luini 
 (1480-1530) was the chief ; also Andrea da Solario, Marco d' Uggione, Fran- 
 cisco Melzi, and Cesare da Sesto. The celebrated Gianantonio Razzi caught 
 much of his peculiar manner. 
 
 Michelangelo Buonarotti was born at Arezzo, near Florence, in 1475, and 
 died at Rome in 1564. He was poet, painter, sculptor, and architect, but 
 unlike Leonardo, who gave his attention to light, shade, and color, he devoted 
 his life to the study of form, and the expression of energy in action. He 
 studied under Ghirlandajo. Up to 1503 he was known only as a sculptor ; 
 he then made his cartoon for the Council Hall at Vecchio, and in 15 12 
 painted the frescos of the Sistine Chapel. His mighty spirit found its 
 best exponent in sculpture : he despised easel-pictures as unworthy of a 
 great man. His frescos have the same fire and energy as his sculptures. 
 His art was creative, not imitative. Viewed in themselves, the frescos of 
 the Sistine Chapel present astonishing evidences of human power: all is action ; 
 every form, every muscle, every attitude exhibits the very highest power of 
 anatomical art, for each is displayed and exerted to the utmost ; even repose 
 is unrest. To this display of capabilities he sacrificed truth, simplicity, feeling, 
 and real beauty. As in sculpture, so in painting : color, tone, light, shade, — 
 all are systematic and ideal, and all mighty and overpowering. He made 
 both sculpture and painting subservient to the loftiest aims, and no artist 
 ever attained a higher fame ; but the greatness of Michelangelo is his own — 
 not the grandeur of art. Of his pupils, the best were Marcello Venusti, 
 Sebastian del Piombo, and Daniele Ricciarelli da Volterra. 
 
 Contemporary with Michelangelo were Fra Bartolomeo, distinguished for 
 softness and sweetness of coloring, and Andrea del Sarto (1489-1530), who 
 was of considerable excellence as a colorist. Another contemporary of the 
 mighty Florentine, but most unlike in all the characteristics of genius save 
 the final result, was Raphael, the founder and master of the Roman school. 
 
 Raffaello Sanzio or Santa da Urbino, was born in 1483, at Urbino. Pupil of 
 Perugino, he was at first greatly influenced by him, and adopted his style. 
 His later styles were the Florentine and the Roman. No artist ever exercised 
 so lasting an influence upon art as Raphael. In his works the influence of the 
 intellect and the affections are inseparably blended, and this union of the 
 highest faculties pervades everything from his hand. He exhibits in the high- 
 est degree the combination of the powers of invention with those of represen- 
 tation. In invention, composition, moral force, fidelity of portraiture, and 
 spiritual beauty, he is surpassed by none ; in grandeur of design by Michel- 
 angelo alone ; and in fulness of coloring only by the best'masters of the 
 Venetian school. Although he died in 1520, at the age of thirty-seven, he 
 executed two hundred and eighty-seven pictures, and five hundred and 
 seventy-six drawings and studies, not including his frescos at the Vatican and 
 27 
 
210 
 
 The Antejix Papers, 
 
 elsewhere. He possessed the marvellous power of fusing with his own 
 peculiar gifts all that was best in the works of others, and thus built up a 
 lofty and independent style essentially his own. In 1508 Raphael was called 
 to Rome to assist in the decoration of the Vatican, and then began to paint 
 :^he unrivalled frescos commemorative of the spiritual and temporal power of 
 the papacy. The decorative paintings accessory to the frescos and the ornamen- 
 tal stucco work in the Loggie are unequalled. No painter has ever done so 
 much to promote real excellence in art. All that imagination can lend to strictly 
 imitative art he has added, yet he has infused the warmest sensibilities of life 
 into its creations ; to Nature he has given all that grace and fancy can bestow 
 consistent with the sweetest of all charms, namely, her own. In the words of 
 Kugler, " His works were regarded with religious veneration, as if God had 
 revealed Himself through Raphael as in former days through prophets." 
 Raphael's pupils and followers were extremely numerous, and many of his 
 excellences were successfully imitated by them. His most famous scholars 
 were Giulio Romano (1492-1546) and Francesco Penni (1488-1528). Other 
 followers were Perino del Vaga, Giovanni da Udine, Innocenza da Imola, 
 Bagneavallo, Garofalo, and Dosso Dossi. 
 
 While form and expression were almost exclusively cultivated at Florence 
 and Rome, chiaro-oscuro and color were perfected in the north. Antonio 
 Allegri called Correggio from his birthplace (1495-1534), introduced a totally 
 new manner in the art of painting, and excelled all in his chiaro-oscuro, and in 
 grace and softness of effect. He was the founder of the Lombard or Parmesan 
 school, and early in his career was much influenced by Leonardo da Vinci. 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds says, He had a most free and delightful pencil, and it 
 is to be acknowledged that he painted with a strength, relief, sweetness, and 
 vivacity of coloring which nothing ever exceeded." He understood how to 
 distribute his lights in a manner wholly peculiar to himself, which gave great 
 force and roundness to his figures. Correggio had no pupils of eminence, 
 but many imitators, among whom Francesca Mazzola, known as Parmigiano 
 (i 503-1 540), was the chief. 
 
 Far from the influences at work among the artists of upper Italy, the 
 Venetians, by closely following the course marked out by the Bellini, became 
 consummate masters of coloring. Seeking beauty for its own sake, they 
 found it by transfiguring Nature, and their works reflect the splendor and 
 magnificence which surrounded them. The Venetian painters cultivated the 
 sensuous rather than the intellectual side of human nature; and in 'their 
 works faithfulness of pictorial representation is even of greater account than 
 the moral lesson to be conveyed. They rendered the warm coloring of the 
 flesh and the effect of light on different materials with wonderful accuracy 
 and in a manner never surpassed. Giorgio Barbarelli, or Giorgione, was the 
 first to break loose from the trammels of the early Venetian school. His works 
 are distinguished for poetic feeling, imagination, and vigor of touch. Sebastian 
 del Piombo was a scholar of his. But the greatest ornament of the Vene- 
 tian school was Tiziano Vecellio, or Titian (1477-1576). In coloring he 
 stands pre-eminent J his rendering of flesh-tints has never been surpassed; 
 
Historic Schools of Painting, 
 
 211 
 
 and in his landscapes and groups, his treatment of local coloring and chiaro- 
 oscuro has seldom been equalled. He is considered the finest portrait painter 
 of any age. In his mastery of color, three principles may be remarked: 
 first, the interposing medium between the eye and the object is supposed to 
 be a mellow, golden light ; second, the most glowing and gorgeous lights are 
 produced, not so much by rich local tints, as by the general conduct of the 
 whole piece, in which the gradations of tone are almost evanescent, yet in 
 their strongest hues powerfully contrasted : hence the final splendor is pro- 
 duced by painting in undertones rather than by lavishing on particular spots 
 the whole riches of the palette ; the shadows and undertones are also 
 enlivened by a thousand local hues and flickering lights, and the masses by 
 innumerable variety and play of parts, and yet all are softened and blended 
 and combined into an undefinable harmony. The third principle refers to his 
 practice : the colors are laid on pure, without mixing, in tints, by reiterated 
 application, and apparently with the point of the brush. He lived to the age of 
 ninety -nine, and died of the plague in 1576. His contemporaries were Jacopo 
 Palma (1516-1548) ; Paris Bordone (1500-1570); Pordenone (1486-1540) ; 
 Alessandro Bonvicino, or II Moretto da Brescia (1490-1560) ; and Moroni 
 (1474-1529). Greater than any of these were two Venetian masters, Jacopo 
 Robusto, or Tintoretto (15 12-1594), and Paolo Cagliari, or Paul Veronese 
 (1528-1588). Jacopo da Ponte, or II Bassano (1510-1592), was one of the 
 earliest Italian ge7tre painters. 
 
 The great Italian masters of the Renaissance devoted no inconsid- 
 erable portion of their time and energies to decorative painting, and 
 in their hands it attained a perfection never before reached, except, 
 perhaps, in the best days of Rome. The early part of the fifteenth 
 century was marked by a kind of transition from Gothic ornament, in which 
 the grotesque element predominated, to that of the complete Renaissance, 
 which was a revival of the antique style studied in the Baths of Titus, 
 and stamped with the original genius of Raphael, who did more than any 
 other master to define the true limits and capabilities of decorative art. 
 In the sixteenth century a desire was felt for greater variety of design ; 
 as the century advanced, this love of variety increased, and ideas were 
 borrowed from the East. In our retrospect of the sixteenth century we 
 find form, design, and expression perfected in the Roman and Florentine 
 schools by Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and Raphael ; coloring and chiaro-oscuro 
 in the schools of Venice and Parma by Titian, Correggio, Tintoretto, 
 and Paul Veronese ; spiritual beauty had found its noblest exponent in 
 Raphael, and corporeal beauty in Titian ; the art of portraiture had attained 
 its highest development ; landscape painting, properly so called, had been 
 improved, and genre painting had been introduced. A general love of art 
 pervaded all classes of society. Unfortunately, the high position painting 
 had thus gloriously attained, was not maintained, and even at the close of the 
 sixteenth century there were signs of its approaching decadence. 
 
212 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 HISTORIC SCHOOLS OF PAINTING. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 In the north of Europe, as in Italy, we find that painting attained a position 
 of first-rate importance in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries ; but it differed 
 in many essential particulars from that of the south. The northern masters 
 went to nature for their models, and endeavored to express their spiritual 
 conceptions in the familiar forms and homely scenes of every-day life, attain- 
 ing thereby a truth to nature never surpassed. It cannot, of course, be denied 
 that these men never attained the exceptional excellence of Da Vinci, Michel- 
 angelo, or Raphael, but their inferiority was in a great measure due to acci- 
 dental and pecuHar circumstances. In the north, there were no enthusiastic 
 patrons of art, ready to recognize and encourage genius ; artists were com- 
 pelled to work their way to eminence through difficulties of every jcind, and, 
 above all, the Reformation, which occupied the thoughts of all earnest men, 
 threw every other interest into the background. Notwithstanding these 
 disadvantages, the simple truthfulness of painting in the northern schools, its 
 faithful rendering of individual character, its purity and distinctness of 
 expression, and thorough originality, give it a charm and value of its own. 
 
 The earliest distinct development of the German style occurred towards 
 the end of the fourteenth century, in the school of Cologne. William of 
 Cologne is the earhest tempera painter of this school, and the oldest German 
 painter to whom existing panel pictures are attributed. Meister Stephan is 
 a more distinguished painter ; his greatest work is considered the master- 
 piece of the school. The pictures of this school have gold backgrounds, but 
 their characteristics are in other respects those which maybe observed forages 
 in northern art with remarkable uniformity. The German imitated nature earlier 
 than the Italians, but never succeeded, like them, in the representation of 
 the beautiful and ideal. Their faces are nearly always full of character, but 
 the drawing and modelling of other portions of the figure exhibit structural 
 ignorance. They never generalize, but concentrate their attention upon 
 minutiae of detail ; yet in all technicalities they pre-eminently excel, and are 
 almost invariably fine colorists. In composition they are inventive, but their 
 creations are singular and fantastic. Another early German school is that of 
 Westphalia, a school similar to that of Cologne. 
 
Historic Schools of Painting. 
 
 213 
 
 The most celebrated northern school of the fifteenth century was the Flem- 
 ish school of Bruges, established by Hubert Van Eyck, and upheld after his 
 death by his brother John. Hubert Van Eyck (i 366-1426) occupied a position 
 somewhat similar to that of Masaccio and Mantegna in Italy. His chief claim 
 to distinction rests not on the invention of oil colors, but on the removal of the 
 obstacles to their employment for important works, and on the wonderful power, 
 transparency, depth, and harmony of coloring which he acquired by their use. 
 Up to this time, oil colors were practically useless for any but minor purposes, 
 as, in order to quicken the drying of the colors, a varnish of oil and resin was 
 used, which fatally injured their brightness. Van Eyck, by using a colorless 
 varnish, obviated this difficulty, and by judicious underpainting attained an 
 admirable balance in his tones and shadows. His manner combined the 
 most profound and genuine realism, with something of the idealism and sym- 
 bolism of the Middle Ages. He gave to all his works a dramatic and pictu- 
 resque cheerfulness certainly never surpassed by any Italian master ; but his 
 designs are stiff and his outlines hard. Jan Van Eyck (i 390-1440) received 
 instruction and formed his style from his brother's works. In coloring, especially 
 in flesh-tints, he was pre-eminently successful, and his landscapes and portraits 
 are remarkably true to life ; but he was wanting in feeling for spiritual beauty. 
 His masterpiece, a portrait, is exquisitely finished, and the coloring and chi- 
 aro-oscuro is equal, if not superior, to anything produced at this early period 
 of the fifteenth century. Among the principal scholars of the Van Eycks is 
 Van der Weyden ,(1390-1464), who exercised even a greater influence over 
 his contemporaries than the Van Eycks had done. In his school were Hans 
 Memling, the greatest Flemish, and Martin Schongauer, the best German 
 
 master of the fifteenth century. In Hans Memling ( 1495) the school of 
 
 the Van Eycks reached its fullest development ; his works excel those of any 
 of his predecessors in delicacy of execution, softness of outline, and feeling 
 for grace and beauty. He also effected considerable improvement in color- 
 ing, chiaro-oscuro, and aerial perspective, but was not so successful in finish 
 of detail. 
 
 Towards the close of the fifteenth century we meet with Quentin Matsys 
 (1444-1531), the greatest Flemish painter of his day, whose works are remark- 
 able for beauty of form, delicacy of finish, solemnity of feeling, and softness 
 and transparency of coloring. His draperies have an easy grace, rare in the 
 pictures of his school ; his sacred pictures are grand and dignified. The 
 influence of the Flemish school extended over Holland and Germany. 
 
 In the fifteenth century the Dutch school was little more than an offshoot 
 of that of Bruges ; its chief representatives are Albert Van Ouivater, its 
 founder, ope of the earliest landscape painters of Holland, Dierich Stuerbout 
 (i 391-1463), the first great Dutch painter who excelled in design, and 
 Jan Van Mabuse (1470-1532), who preceded Holbein in showing British 
 artists what might be effected by honest study of nature. The latter part of 
 the fifteenth century and the whole of the sixteenth are looked upon as a 
 transition time, Flemish and Dutch art not having reached their highest 
 development until the seventeeth century. 
 
214 
 
 The Antefix Papers^ 
 
 In the sixteenth century an unfortunate attempt was made to combine the 
 peculiar excellences of the school of the Van Eycks with those of the Italian 
 Cinque-cento masters. Towards its close numerous Dutch and Flemish 
 historical painters arose, who paved the way for a higher and more 
 independent style of art. Their works display great truth to nature 
 and force of character, careful drawing and fulness of coloring. A great im- 
 pulse was given to the art of landscape painting at the close of the sixteenth 
 century, by the Brothers Brill of Antwerp. Paul Brill (i 556-1626) was one 
 of the first to obtain harmony of light in landscapes, and he greatly influ- 
 enced for good the future masters, Rubens and Claude Lorraine. At this time 
 we also meet with the first Dutch marine painters. 
 
 Previous to the sixteenth century we find German painters expressing in 
 their works unwavering devotion to the Church of Rome, and unfaltering r'- 
 legiance to the traditional mode of treating sacred subjects ; but in the six- 
 teenth century we meet with men imbued with the spirit of the Reformation, 
 hinting in their sacred pictures at a real and personal conflict between 
 spiritual and mental agencies. This, more than any other peculiarity, 
 separates the art of Germany from that of Italy, with its beautiful idealization 
 even of the powers of evil, and from that of Flanders, with its stern repu- 
 diation of all not actually manifest to the senses. At this time we find two 
 great schools in Germany, the Suabian (including the schools of Ulm and 
 Augsburg) and the Franconian schools. The school of Augsburg is char- 
 acterized by a more decidedly realistic tendency than that pf Ulm. At the 
 head of this school stands Han Holbein the Elder (1450-1541), father of the 
 great Holbein who did so much for English art in the reign of Henry VIII. 
 In this school the influence of the Van Eyck school is very noticeable. Hans 
 Holbein the Younger (1498-1543) was not only the greatest German expo- 
 nent of the realistic school, but one of the first portrait painters of any age. 
 Inferior in grandeur of style and fertility of imagination to his great con- 
 temporary DUrer, he excelled him in truth to nature, feeling for physical 
 beauty, and command over all the technical processes of his art. He was 
 the one German master who freed himself from that conventionalism in the 
 treatment of the human form which had so long prevailed ; and his portraits 
 have an individuality of character and clearness of coloring superior to any- 
 thing of the kind ever produced in Germany. Other masters of the Suabian 
 school are Sigmund Holbein (1465-1540), uncle of the great Holbein, Mar- 
 tin Schaff"ner (1508-1541), Hans Burgkmair (1493-1559), etc. 
 
 In the school of Franconia, with Nuremberg for its headquarters, we find • 
 the same tolerance of ugliness and the same sharpness of outline, as in the 
 works of the early Dutch and Flemish masters, combined with an intensity of 
 expression and a delight in the weird and fantastic even greater than in the 
 Suabian school. Albert Diirer(i47i-i5i9) was the father of modern German 
 painting. He was among the first to bring the laws of science to bear upon 
 art, and to demonstrate the practical value of perspective. He excelled alike 
 in painting, engraving, sculpture, and wood-carving. The characteristics of 
 his paintings are forcible drawing, breadth of coloring, individuality of char- 
 
Historic Schools of Paintings 
 
 21$ 
 
 acter, and vitality of expression, combined unfortunately with a certain 
 harshness of outline, an occasional stiffness in the treatment of drapery, and 
 a want of feeling for physical grace and beauty. Diirer exercised a power- 
 ful influence throughout the whole of Europe, and had many followers and 
 imitators. Of his pupils, Altdorfer (1488-1538), a painter and engraver, is 
 the greatest. Griinewald (1460-1530) and Lucas Cranach, his master, were 
 contemporaries of Diirer. Towards the close of the sixteenth century the 
 peculiar character of German art, like that of Dutch and Flemish art, was lost 
 in a general imitation of the great Italian masters. 
 
 In the beginning of the seventeenth century we notice a revival of painting 
 in the north, characterized by a return to the realism of the Van Eycks, com- 
 bined with something of the Venetian breadth, harmony of coloring, and 
 general balance of tone. 
 
 French art, viewed historically, is a branch of the Roman school. Francis I, 
 although a liberal patron of native art, always showed a marked preference for 
 the works of Italian masters, and did comparatively little to encourage native 
 talent. The true Italianized French school dates from the time of Francis I, 
 who invited celebrated artists from Italy to decorate his palace ; its chief repre- 
 sentatives flourished in the seventeenth century. In the fifteenth and sixteenth 
 centuries we meet with the earliest French painters of distinction, and the 
 only French masters who cannot be said to belong to the Italianized school 
 
 of the sixteenth century, namely, Jean Fouqet ( H^S), a miniature 
 
 painter, the three Clouets ( 1574), and Jean Cousin ( 1560), who 
 
 was architect, sculptor, and painter. They belonged to what may be termed 
 the Gothic school, and painted somewhat in the manner of the Van Eycks, 
 though with less knowledge and ability. 
 
 The native school of England is of comparatively recent date. What the 
 Italians did in Spain and France was done by Flemish and German masters 
 in England. The zeal of the Reformers and Puritans has deprived us of 
 nearly every vestige of early English painting and sculpture. The most 
 important early English works of which we have a record were executed in 
 the reigns of Henry III and Edward III, and by William Austin, a celebrated 
 artist in the reign of Henry VII, who seems to have been but little inferior to 
 his celebrated Italian contemporaries, Donatello and Ghiberti. It was during 
 the reign of Henry VIII that Hans Holbein visited England and remained 
 there till his death. With these few exceptions we have no record of English 
 artists of importance previous to the reign of Charles I, and the masters of 
 this period were almost exclusively portrait painters. Before the time of 
 Charles I all important works were intrusted to foreigners. 
 
 In the sixteenth century we meet with what may be called a school of 
 painting in Spain. The prevalence of Mohammedanism was antagonistic to 
 the development of pictorial art, and when the Moors were finally over- 
 thrown, the Roman Catholic religion brought with it the paralyzing influence 
 of the Inquisition, beneath which it was impossible for art to progress. The 
 first formation of the Spanish school was due to the settlement of Flemish 
 artists in Spain, but in its perfected character it showed considerable affinity 
 
2l6 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 to Italian art, as represented more particularly by the Venetian masters 
 and the Neapolitan naturalists. Italian taste continued paramount till it was 
 rendered subordinate in the seventeenth century by the national characteristics 
 exhibited in the works of Zurbaran, Velasquez, and Murillo. 
 
 Spanish art is stamped with a gloomy asceticism peculiarly its own, from which 
 even the best works of its greatest masters are not free. The painting of Spain 
 was essentially naturalistic ; we never meet with the idealism so prevalent in 
 Italy. Faithful representations of Spanish life in the cloister, the palace, or the 
 street are plentiful, and in this peculiarity we notice a resemblance to the Eng- 
 lish school. The great painters of Spain in the sixteenth century are Antonio 
 Del Rincon (1446-1500), who had considerable power of design. Luis de 
 Vargas (1502-1 568), whose works are remarkable for brilliancy of coloring, 
 character, and expression, but are wanting in harmony of tone. Greater than 
 either of these was Luis De Morales (15 10-1586), surnamed the Divine on 
 account of the ascetic sanctity of his works ; they are remarkable for a 
 warmth of coloring unusual to Spanish artists. Vicente Joanes (1523-1579), 
 who was an ascetic in style, like Morales, studied in Italy and has been called 
 the " Spanish Raphael " ; his pictures are of sacred subjects, and though 
 bearing witness to their artist's assimilation of Italian elements of design, 
 retain the Spanish character of gloomy and impassioned fervor. 
 
 Pablo de Cespedes (i 538-1608) was one of the best early Spanish masters. 
 He excelled in coloring, chiaro-oscuro, invention, and composition. 
 
 The seventeenth century produced the greatest masters of the Spanish 
 school. Juan de las Roelas (i 558-1625) was not inferior to Cespedes in col- 
 oring, and perhaps surpassed him in design and character. " No master," 
 says Mr. Ford, " ever painted the sleek grimalkin Jesuit like Roelas." He 
 was one of the earliest masters of the school of Seville, which afterward 
 became so famous. Francisco de Ribalta (1551-1628) was a correct and for- 
 cible designer. Francisco Pacheco (1571-1654) founded the school in which 
 Alonzo Cano and Velasquez were pupils. Alonzo Cano (i 601-1669) was a 
 painter of high original genius, whose works are chiefly distinguished for force 
 of design, rich and vigorous coloring, and bold execution. Velasquez (1599- 
 1660) takes rank as a portrait painter with Titian and Vandyck. His style is 
 strictly naturalistic, and his power of imitation has seldom been rivalled. 
 Whilst studying the works of all of the great masters of Italy, he yet retained his 
 own individuality, stamping everything he touched with the dignity of purpose 
 and strength of will by which he was distinguished. Mr. Stirling, in his val- 
 uable life of the great painter, says, " He discovered that Nature herself is the 
 artist's great teacher, and industry his surest guide to perfection." His com- 
 positions give us a vivid insight into the national life of his day ; the figures 
 are studied from life, and the most humble scenes, whilst faithfully rendered, 
 are never vulgarly treated. 
 
 Francisco de Zurbaran (1598-1662) was one of the first Spanish painters in 
 whom we recognize an independent and national style. His heads are powerful 
 and lifelike, admirably expressive of religious fervor, mental agony, or triumph- 
 ant faith. The coloring and chiaro-oscuro are remarkable for depth and 
 
s 
 
 Historic Schools of Painting, 2\J 
 
 breadth, but his designs of large groups want harmony, and he made no at- 
 tempt to ideahze or tone down the expression of suffering. The individual- 
 ism and realism of the Spanish school are well represented by him. 
 
 Bartholome Esteban Murillo (1618-1682) may be taken as the chief repre- 
 sentative of the Spanish school of religious painting. His works are remark- 
 able for softness and brilliancy of coloring, devotional feeling, and picturesque 
 delineation of national character. 
 
 Murillo and Valasquez are the greatest Spanish painters. 
 
 On the death of the great masters of the Renaissance period, we notice a 
 decline in painting in Italy, marked by the same peculiarities as that which 
 succeeded the Golden Age of sculpture, technical dexterity ranking higher 
 than artistic genius. To check this deteriorating tendency, it seemed neces- 
 sary to introduce and establish rules founded upon the practice of the 
 generally recognized greatest masters. The school of the Carracci, founded 
 by Ludovico Carracci at Bologna, was the first to professedly adopt this 
 principle. He was supported by his cousins, Agostino and Annibale. A 
 curious sonnet by the former defines the general aim of the school : " Let 
 him who wishes to be a good painter acquire the design of Rome, Venetian 
 shade and action, the terrible manner of Michelangelo, Titian's truth to 
 nature, the sovereign purity of Correggio's style, and the just symmetry of a 
 Raphael ; the decorum and well-grounded knowledge of Tibaldi, the inven- 
 tion of the learned Prematiccis, and a little of Parmigiano's grace ; but 
 without so much study and toil, he need only apply himself to imitate the 
 works which our Niccolino has left us." This system of selecting various 
 excellences obtained for the academy the title of Eclectic School, but the 
 study of nature was not excluded. No subsequent academy has been so 
 successful as that of the Carracci. Ludovico Carracci (i 555-1619) appears to 
 have been rather a teacher than an original painter; Agostino (i 558-1602) 
 is better known as an engraver and teacher, than as a painter ; Annibale 
 (1560-1609) surpassed both Ludovico and Agostino, and had he not been 
 fettered by his mistaken desire to combine naturalism with an imitation of the 
 great masters, he would probably have worked out an original and superior 
 style. As it is, his works have something of Correggio, Paul Veronese, 
 Michelangelo, and Raphael about them, without any distinctive character of 
 their own. Among the numerous pupils of the Carracci are Domenico 
 Zampieri, surnamed Domenichino (1581-1641), a successful imitator of 
 Raphael and of Agostino Carracci ; Guido Reni (1575-1642), who possessed 
 considerable feeling for beauty of form, and great skill in execution, especially 
 in coloring; and Barbieri (Guercins) (i 590-1666), who excelled in brilliancy 
 of coloring, depth of chiaro-oscuro, and power of expression. 
 
 There was great opposition to this school by those who adhered entirely 
 to the study of nature, particularly at Naples, where they determined to have 
 recourse to poison and the dagger should any academic painter establish 
 himself there. The most powerful painter of this school — called the Natur- 
 alistic School — was Caravaggio (1569^1609), whose works have some affinity 
 with those of Michelangelo, and give proof of great original power and feeling 
 28 
 
2l8 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 Ribera, a Spaniard, who ranks with Caravaggio ; and Salvator Rosa 
 (1615-1673), a naturah'stic master, who painted landscapes, historical sub- 
 jects, and genre pictures, and also excelled in portraits. The style of these 
 naturalisti, from their unselected imitation of nature, reflects all the savage 
 passion and dark criminality of their natures : the violent contrasts of light 
 and shade are perfectly congenial to the horrible and ghastly scenes of 
 suffering, murder, and robbery which they delighted to represent. This school, 
 as well as that of the Carracci, exerted a powerful influence over the whole of 
 Europe. The similarity in the temperament of the Spaniards and Neapoli- 
 tans will readily explain why this style prevailed so extensively in Spain. 
 
 At the close of the seventeenth century, Pietro Berettini da Cortona 
 (i 596-1669), in spite of great original talent, exercised a most pernicious 
 influence on Italian art by the introduction in his works of startling effects 
 of color and chiaro-oscuro, which were studied and imitated, thus sealing the 
 fate of Italian painting, which has never rallied from the mannerism int(5 
 which it sank at the beginning of the eighteenth century. As a contempo- 
 rary of the Carracci in France, we have Nicolas Poussin (i 594-1665), the 
 founder of what is called the heroic style of landscape painting. He excelled 
 in the treatment of landscapes and classic subjects, and exerted a most 
 important influence upon the arts of his country, although it was not immedi- 
 ately apparent in the decorative, theatrical age of Louis XIV, or the heartless 
 times of Louis XV. He lived almost entirely at Rome. Besides the excellence 
 of his composition, Poussin's design is very correct, though monotonous from 
 a too uniform imitation of the antique. His attitudes are frequently theatrical. 
 His coloring has generally a brick-like tone, arising from the darkened red 
 priming showing through, and his red and blue draperies have a spotty effect. 
 In landscape, Poussin holds a distinguished place. His classical compo- 
 sitions have, however, little in common with contemporary English landscape 
 art, although he was one of the earliest great landscape painters. 
 
 His pupil Gasper Dughet (1630-1675), the great landscape painter, is 
 generally known as Caspar Poussin. He lived and painted at Rome. 
 In his earlier works he adopted the severe forms of his brother-in-law, 
 but a more genial feeling pervaded many of his later landscapes ; he paid 
 especial attention to what we may call meteorological rather than aerial effects. 
 
 Claude Lorraine (1600-1682), though inferior in power to Poussin, is more 
 generally admired on account of the soft brightness of his pleasing landscapes, 
 which attract the most superficial lover of beautiful scenery. His effects of 
 sunlight, his general treatment of aerial perspective, and his rendering of 
 calm water, are still unrivalled, except perhaps by Turner, with whom he is 
 considered to have some affinity ; but he never rose to the ideal or produced 
 anything of really vital power. 
 
 Eustache Lesueur (161 7-1 655) is the greatest master who can be strictly 
 claimed as French ; yet, though he never went to Rome, he is one of the most 
 Italian of French painters. He approached Raphael perhaps more nearly 
 than any of his Italian imitators in the character of his heads, the style of his 
 compositions, and the arrangement of his draperies. 
 
Historic Schools of Painting, 
 
 219 
 
 Charles le Brun (1619-1690) might be called a characteristic exponent of the 
 spirit of his times. War and tumult are the elements of his style. He studied 
 at Rome under Poussin, and made the Carracci his models ; he showed great 
 vigor, but little real taste and less refinement of sentiment in his works. 
 
 In the seventeenth century, in England, we find Nicholas Hillard (1574-1619) 
 Isaac Oliver (1556-1617), and Samuel Cooper (1609-1672), distinguished 
 miniature painters ; and contemporary with the latter are George Jameson 
 (1586-1644), called the Scottish Vandyke, who was a fellow-pupil with Van- 
 dyke in the school of Rubens ; Robert Walker (1600-1660) and William Dob- 
 son (1616-1664), who were both successful portrait painters, but little inferior 
 to Vandyke. 
 
 During the seventeenth century some of the most eminent painters of 
 Europe visited England, among whom were Rubens, Vandyke, and a great 
 many others. 
 
 In the beginning of the seventeenth century we notice a revival of painting 
 in the North, characterized by a return to the realism of the Van Eycks, com- 
 bined with something of Venetian breadth, great harmony of coloring, knd 
 general balance of tone. The first great master of this new development was 
 Peter Paul Rubens (i 577-1640), who brought about a complete reform in 
 Flemish painting. Rubens' great distinction is his extraordinary mastery of 
 his materials. He excelled in coloring, brilliant execution, fertility of imagina- 
 tion, and vitality of expression ; his figures are often coarse and lack spiritual 
 beauty, especially in his sacred subjects. He spent some time in Italy, where 
 he became, not the pupil, but the successful rival of Paul Veronese and Tin- 
 toretto. What has been said of Michelangelo in form, may be said of 
 Rubens in color. As the one came to Nature and moulded her to his generic 
 form, the other came to Nature and tinged her with his color, — the color of 
 gay magnificence. The earlier works of Rubens are the best ; his later works 
 are more mannered. His larger works are remarkable for the boldness with 
 which pure colors are placed side by side, and left to be blended by distance. 
 Of his numerous scholars, Anthony Vandyke (i 599-1641) is the greatest. He 
 is chiefly distinguished as a portrait painter, and in this branch is inferior to 
 Titian only in color and solidity of effect : he excelled Rubens in spiritual 
 beauty, in elevation of sentiment and refinement of execution. Besides his 
 portraits, he executed many historical pictures, some of which are works of the 
 highest merit. In individuality, in attitude, and in costume, he leaves nothing 
 to be desired ; in drawing and management of light and shade, he is equally 
 excellent. None of Vandyke's pupils attained the high excellence or great 
 reputation of their master, 
 
 Philippe de Champagne, a successful landscape and portrait painter of this 
 century, is claimed alike by the French and Flemish schools. His landscapes 
 are characterized by poetic feeling, force of coloring, and tenderness of 
 chiaro-oscuro, and his portraits by truth to nature, individuality of character, 
 and general harmony of tone. 
 
 At the same time, in almost the same place, arose another school, different 
 from the Flemish or from that of Rubens, and dependent upon the elabora- 
 
220 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 tion of only a single element in art, — that of tone, or light and shade. The 
 founder of this school was Paul Rembrandt (1608- 1669), the most attractive and 
 original of painters. Of all the schools of coloring, that of Rembrandt is the 
 most studied, — the least apparently natural, though perfectly so. In every- 
 thing but form, he is perhaps the most original and creative genius among 
 painters. The striking effects of Rembrandt are obtained by concentration 
 of light, contrasted with large masses of shadow, which are broken up with 
 the utmost subtilty of graduated shade and reflected light. Tone, and the 
 giving of roundness to individual objects, was understood by Da Vinci and 
 Correggio, but the style of Rembrandt is made up of effects and contrasts 
 created instantaneously, his color depending upon contrast, not on any positive 
 degree of its own. This style required great knowledge and command over 
 materials : the tone and harmony of Correggio, on the other hand, are the 
 result of patient elaboration, and perfect command of the tools or instruments 
 of art, which may be obtained with only a moderate knowledge of the laws 
 and means of coloring. With Rembrandt, light and shade was color. He 
 had many pupils and imitators. 
 
 Of the numerous genre painters of this century, David Teniers (1610- 
 1694) holds the highest rank. His father is considered the founder of 
 the great Belgian school of genre painting. He was not only the best 
 delineator of his day of the manners and customs of his contemporaries 
 in every rank, but the greatest genre painter of any period ; the char- 
 acteristics of his style are force, harmonious balance of grouping, del- 
 icate execution of details, a spirited arrangement of figures, and a keen 
 and irrepressible spirit of humor, breaking out at every turn. As great 
 contemporaries of Teniers, we have Peter Breughel (i 529-1 569) and his 
 two sons. Teniers had many scholars and imitators, none of whom attained 
 the distinctive excellence of this great leader of gem'-e painting. Landscape 
 painting also received much attention in the North during this century. The 
 impulse communicated generally to landscape painting originated in the Italian 
 school of the Carracci, but is fully apparent also in the finely-composed and 
 classical landscapes of Nicholas Poussin, the stormy and aerial effects of 
 Caspar Poussin, and in the serene beauty and sunshine of Claude Lorraine, 
 
 The end of the seventeenth and the whole of the eighteenth century were 
 marked by a rapid decline in the art of painting, both in Belgium and Hol- 
 land, and not until the present century do we find any definite or important 
 revival. In Germany, in the eighteenth century, we find a tendency to copy 
 French rather than Italian work. 
 
 At the beginning of the eighteenth century painting in France had greatly 
 declined in power, and had become little more than a means of glorification of 
 the favorites of the hour. From this degraded position it was rescued by the 
 genius of Anthony Watteau (1684-1721), who stands at the head of the school 
 of the eighteenth century, — which maybe characterized as purely national, — 
 and may be said to have influenced not only the style of all later French masters, 
 but also that of the British school. Watteau excelled in technical execution, 
 truth of character, and easy grace of design ; in general effect of color, he was a 
 miniature Paul Veronese. He confined his practice to minor subjects, yet had 
 
Historic Schools of Painting. 
 
 221 
 
 many imitators. The works of Boucher (i 704-1 770) show all the faults of the 
 French school, without the beauty of finish, grace, and truth of those of Wat- 
 teau ; as mere pieces of decorative painting, his works are generally beau- 
 tiful, but his forms and coloring are wholly factitious. His influence was 
 corruptive. Greuze (1725-1805), despite enamelled surface and a certain taint 
 of conventionality, is deservedly a favorite, in virtue of the simple homeliness 
 of his themes and his careful study of nature. He is well known for his genre 
 pictures, which are often engraved, and for his beautiful female heads. Another 
 artist of this school was Francois Lemoine (1688-1 737). 
 
 At the close of the eighteenth century and beginning of the nineteenth, an 
 attempt to revive the so-called classic manner of painting in France, was made 
 by David and his followers. 
 
 On the death of Velasquez and Murillo, although they formed many pupils, 
 painting in Spain sensibly declined. Throughout the eighteenth century not 
 a single artist of note arose in Spain. 
 
 From long-continued neglect of using any means for fostering native 
 talent, art in England had sunk about this time to apparently the lowest 
 point to which it can descend in a civilized nation ; but with the Georges a 
 new era dawned : at least foreign immigration was checked by finding that 
 the market was forestalled by Englishmen, with whom they could not compete. 
 
 In the eighteenth century we meet with Jonathan Richardson (i 665-1 745), 
 one of the best informed and soundest of critics in the whole province of art. 
 The manner which prevailed in England at this time was a sort of third 
 edition of Vandyke. Sir James Thornhill (1676-1734) was distinguished for 
 his decorations, which deserve recognition as leading more or less directly 
 to the great movement headed by Hogarth, which raised native art to so 
 high a position in the eighteenth century. William Hogarth (1697-1764) is 
 the first great name in the annals of British art. He divides with Reynolds 
 the honor of having founded the English school of painting ; he was in every 
 respect a reformer, and was the first to break loose from the insipid imitation 
 of second-rate Italian painting which prevailed in his day; he originated a 
 purely national style, rescuing painting from its tame and lifeless attempts at 
 high art, and employing it as a language to reform the manners of his time. 
 In his best examples, he belongs to the Irigh^st genre painters. 
 
 Viewed merely as works of art, his paintings, though characterized by 
 force if not correctness of drawing, and by marvellous dramatic and inventive 
 power, may perhaps be justly charged with being wanting in sense of beauty 
 and refinement and feeling for color ; but as moral engines for bringing vividly 
 before men the inevitable results of crime and wrong-doing, they are abso- 
 lutely unrivalled. In technical execution and general manner they betray 
 French influence, especially that of VVatteau ; in dramatic force and originality 
 they are distinctively English. His works, aside from their extraordinary orig- 
 inality, are filled with wonderful satirical and humorous invention. " Hogarth," 
 says Walpole, "had no model to follow and improve upon. He created his 
 art. and used color instead of language. His place is between the Italians, 
 whom we may consider as epic poets and tragedians, and the Flemish paint- 
 ers, whom we may rank as writers of farces and editors of burlesque nature. 
 
222 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 His was the period of the revival of painting in England in every department 
 of art, and the brightest names in the annals of English painting were his con- 
 temporaries, — Sir Joshua Reynolds, Gainsborough, Wilson, Copley, and West. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792) was the first President of the Royal 
 Academy, which was founded under the auspices of George III. He was 
 one of the greatest English portrait painters. His works are characterized 
 by simplicity, beauty, truth of coloring, easy grace of execution, and a singu- 
 lar originality of invention. He endeavored to unite the best methods of the 
 Flemish and Venetian masters ; but his practice usually inclined, hke that of 
 the English school generally, to the traditions of the former. In general 
 force of effect he resembled Rembrandt, of whom he was a great admirer, 
 and in breadth of chiaro-oscuro and coloring in his best works, he showed 
 some affinity with Titian, Giorgione, and Velasquez ; but in thoroughness of 
 finish and correctness of drawing he was inferior to any of them. In merit, 
 his portraits approach, if they do not equal, those of Vandyke ; his fancy 
 pictures are full of the deepest tenderness or the brightest spirit ; and his 
 historical and sacred subjects are often grand and always powerful. Thomas 
 Gainsborough (i 728-1 788), the rival of Sir Joshua Reynolds in portraiture, and 
 of Wilson in landscape, is a master of whom any school might be proud. Sir 
 Joshua says of Gainsborough, " Whether he most excelled in portraits, 
 landscape, or fancy pictures it is difficult to determine." His works are char- 
 acterized by purity of feeling, solemn reverence for nature, and masterly 
 treatment of aerial perspective ; his portraits are remarkable for grace and 
 delicacy and a peculiar lightness of touch, which has been much criticised, 
 the effect being produced by an infinite number of slight lines, technically 
 called hatching. In Gainsborough the sweet innocence of childhood, the 
 tender beauty of maidenhood, and the intellectual grace of Enghsh gentlemen 
 and gentlewomen, found their first English exponent. 
 
 Richard Wilson (1713-1782) began life as a portrait painter, but attained 
 his greatest excellence in landscape painting. His compositions are grandly 
 conceived, though sometimes inaccurately carried out ; he caught the broad 
 lineaments of nature, reproducing her grand outlines and massive effects 
 with boldness, force, and skill in composition, but he failed to render the 
 tender gradations of color and chiaro-oscuro which characterize her gentle 
 moods, or to give the detail of landscape with faithfulness. 
 
 With Wilson may be mentioned, as contemporaries of Reynolds and Gains- 
 borough, George Barrett (1728-1784) and Julius Ibbetson (1759-1817), both 
 landscape painters. Contemporary with these men was a group of painters 
 who endeavored to introduce an ideal style of historical painting in England, 
 and deserve mention not so much for their success or talents, which were 
 but moderate, as for the steadfastness with which they pursued their aim, in 
 spite of the discouragement which they met with on every side. The most 
 prominent of this group are Benj. West (1738-1820), James Barry (1741-1846), 
 and John S. Copley (i 739-1 815)- 
 
 At the close of the eighteenth century the art of water-color painting, 
 properly so called, was first practised in England. 
 
Charcoal Drawing, 
 
 223 
 
 XXX. 
 
 CHARCOAL DRAWING. 
 
 In the use of the lead pencil and crayons, and of water colors and sepia, 
 as well as of India ink, both with the pen and with the brush, you have already 
 had some experience. It is now proposed that you shall have a short course 
 of lessons in the use of charcoal. 
 
 The properties of this material are sufficiently illustrated by the drawings 
 hung upon the screen, comprising studies from life and from the cast, land- 
 scapes, drawings of flowers, and some elementary studies, such as vases, 
 bunches of fruit, and these colossal ears. You perceive at once that this 
 material is distinguished by great range of tone, the intensest black and the 
 most delicate gray, hardly distinguishable from white, being equally at com- 
 mand ; this quality, however, is also possessed by the crayon when combined 
 with the stump. On the other hand, the sharp, fine, hard line which the crayon 
 so easily produces can hardly be made with a bit of charcoal. But charcoal 
 gives a broad tint of whatever depth, either graduated or quite even and flat, 
 quicker than anything and better than anything, except perhaps a brush full 
 of color, and in one respect it is unrivalled. Its effects are not only the easi- 
 est and quickest in the making, they are the easiest to remove : a strong 
 breath will blow a drawing in charcoal almost entirely away. This would be 
 a serious obstacle to its use were it not practicable, when a drawing is done, 
 to fix it, as we say, by the use of a little shellac dissolved in alcohol, either 
 soaking the back of the drawing or scattering this preparation in spray over 
 its face. Meantime, the facility with which the charcoal can be removed is 
 a signal advantage, as it permits of change and correction at every stage of 
 the work, and encourages a much bolder procedure in its earlier and simpler 
 stages than would otherwise be wise or safe. The reflected lights, for instance, 
 do not need to be " left," but can Ife put in, or rather wiped out, whenever the 
 work has reached the stage at which their consideration is in order. 
 
 For work, then, in which broad, flat shades are to be produced, and for that 
 especially in which it is proposed to make essential changes after it is well 
 under way, charcoal is peculiarly adapted ; it is, that is to say, just the thing 
 to use for a drawing in which you propose to begin by putting in the principal 
 effects broadly and simply, leaving the details to be added at a later stage of 
 the work. 
 
224 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 Now, you will observe that each of the other materials enumerated has also 
 a special kind of work for which it is best fitted and which is in common par- 
 lance almost identified with it. It is generally understood, for instance, that 
 the use of the lead pencil or sepia implies sketches on a small scale ; the crayon 
 suggests full-size drawings from the cast or from the human figure, and India 
 ink implies architectural or engineering work, with carefully graduated shades 
 and shadows. In like manner, when we speak of charcoal drawing we gen- 
 erally understand the method of going to work which I have just now indi- 
 cated as being that for which charcoal is especially fit, beginning, that is, with 
 broad, flat shades, considering first the main features of the object to be 
 represented, and omitting all details until, in the gradual advancement of the 
 work, their introduction becomes necessary. This method of work can of 
 course also be followed, in a measure, with any other material, though some- 
 what less conveniently, since with almost every other material except oil 
 paints the " lights " have to be carefully kept from the outset ; the employment 
 of this method, however, wherever and so far as the material used will permit, 
 presents some advantages which it is worth the while to point out. I will 
 accordingly say no more about charcoal, leaving it to commend itself to your 
 approbation by the brilliancy of its effects and the ease with which they are 
 produced, and will devote the rest of the time set apart for this discourse to the 
 consideration of the method of drawing with which charcoal is identified, — that 
 of beginning a work with broad, flat lights and shades, leaving the half shades 
 and reflected lights and all other means of expressing the details of form 
 until its later stages. 
 
 I. In the first place, it is to be observed that in omitting the details in 
 the representation of any surface and expressing its general tone, that is to 
 say, the average amount of illumination it receives, by a broad, flat tint, we 
 necessarily make it appear as a plane surface. An object of complicated 
 form, then, such as this sitting figure, this bunch of fruit and leaves, or this 
 mask of Jupiter, appears to be bounded by plane surfaces, and if a strict con- 
 sistency is preserved, as is done in some of them, these planes, which cor- 
 respond to the main divisions of the surface, intersect at their edges in 
 straight lines, corresponding to the main ridges which determine its form. 
 The outline also, which in the object is a succession of curved fines rounding 
 into each other, becomes a succession of straight lines meeting in angles 
 more or less obtuse. At this stage, in fact, the drawing, as you see, resem- 
 bles not so much the finished statue from which it is made as one of its 
 earlier stages, when the sculptor had got so far as to determine the main 
 movement of his figure and fix the relation of its principal surfaces, but had 
 not begun to render the more delicate characteristics of its form. This first 
 stage of the drawing is indeed called blocking out, as if the draughtsman, 
 too, were rough-hewing his block into a polygonal, or rather polyedral, figure. 
 
 You will observe in the examples before you, although they all illustrate 
 this general method, a considerable difference of procedure. In these vases, 
 for instance, the actual contour of the object is carefully drawn, with all its 
 delicacy of curve, while the body of the vase is put in quite flat, as if it were 
 
Charcoal Drawing. 
 
 225 
 
 a plane surface. The study and rendering of the outline has outstripped 
 that of the shading. In this figure of a monk, however, one of a set of 
 famous sculptures from the tombs of the Dukes of Burgundy at Dijon, you 
 see that the treatment is rather more consistent, the shading and outline 
 showing about the same amount of elaboration. This seems theoretically 
 preferable, but the other is thought by some teachers to have practical 
 advantages. Another difference is that in some of the examples, as in this 
 head of Jupiter, all the principal divisions of the face, all the principal planes, 
 that is, are indicated by as many different tints or shades. This tiger's head, 
 on the other hand, like the vase we were just looking at, is drawn in only two 
 tints, all the light side being left white, or the color of the paper, and all the 
 dark side being covered with a single flat shade. These, however, we may 
 regard rather as showing the successive steps in the process of blocking-out 
 than as two different ways of going to work, the first step being to distinguish 
 the light part from the dark part, and the next to break up each into the 
 various planes of which it consists. Wherever the light is at all concen- 
 trated, this Hne of demarcation between the light side and the dark side — the 
 dividing line of light and shade, as we call it — is generally sufficiently dis- 
 tinct to permit of its being pretty accurately defined, — accurately enough, at 
 any rate, for the temporary and provisional purpose it has to serve. But 
 sometimes, when the light is not very strong, three tints instead of two, as in 
 the case of this monk from Amiens, sitting and reading his book, are as few 
 as one can comfortably get along with, even at the beginning. 
 
 II. The object being thus blocked out, its outlines approximately deter- 
 mined, its principal planes discriminated and indicated, each in its own shape 
 and size, and, what is equally important, each of its own value, meaning by 
 this its proper degree of light or shade, — the first stages of the process being 
 thus accomplished, we next follow in each of the subdivisions thus 
 established a similar procedure. Each plane surface, with its bounding 
 lines, is re-examined and broken up into minor planes corresponding to the 
 lesser divisions of the form, each differing in value from its neighbors, or the 
 eye could not distinguish it from them, but only slightly differing and not so 
 as to disturb the general tone already established ; and as the subdivisions 
 multiply and the planes differ less and less in position, the contrasted tints, 
 of course, differ less and less, the angles at the ridges becoming at last 
 so obtuse as not to be noticed. The lines in like manner, both those defin- 
 ing the contour and those which mark the chief ridges of the surface, are 
 refined and corrected, but not so as to lose their subordination to the main 
 movement already established. And so this process goes on, the work, as it 
 advances, embodying the results of a more exact observation, a more ex- 
 haustive analysis, a more minute acquaintance with the form, as it proceeds 
 from generals to particulars, from the representation of the principal char- 
 acteristics by broad masses of light and shade and vigorous though only 
 approximate outlines, to the delineation of the sn^allest details of surface or 
 contour which the purpose of the work makes desirable or the skill of the 
 draughtsman makes practicable. The development of the Avork proceeds, in 
 29 
 
226 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 fact, as the philosophers would say, by successive differentiation, passing at 
 each stage of its progress from a more homogeneous condition to one of 
 greater heterogeneity. 
 
 All this can, of course, happen only in cases where the surface to be rep- 
 resented is really a broken surface. In a continuous surface, like that of 
 these round vases, for instance, we can hardly go farther in this process than 
 the first step, the discrimination of the light side from the dark side. There 
 is no complexity of form to investigate ; we cannot indicate subdivisions 
 that do not exist. Unless, then, there are accidental lights or shadows to be 
 recognized, the only thing that remains to be done is to graduate the tints, 
 to express the roundness. Even a flat surface, a geometrical plane, is gen- 
 erally lighter in tone in one part than in another, or seems to be so, so that 
 even here it may be best to graduate the tone. Whether in any given case 
 it is better to do this or to leave the plane and curved surfaces quite flat in 
 the drawing depends partly on the degree of finish aimed at and partly 
 upon their extent. In the case of these vases, as you see, it is done with 
 care ; but in the human face, for instance, it is often possible to reduce it ta 
 elementary snrfaces so small that they may be left quite flat. 
 
 There is danger, too, both in the outline and in the shading, if this idea 
 of finishing up by rounding the forms is admitted, that it will be resorted to 
 prematurely, and a meretricious smoothness of surface take the place of 
 a thorough delineation of form. There is danger that the final analysis will 
 be dispensed with. I think you will understand exactly what I mean if 
 you recall to mind some drawings that you have seen, especially stippled 
 drawings ; for the process of stippling, as you have doubtless experienced, 
 offers great temptations to the student to substitute hand work for head 
 work, careful workmanship for careful observation. It is better for a piece 
 of work to go incomplete than to pretend to be more highly finished than 
 it really is. 
 
 It is to be observed that drawings made in this way, although even 
 in their most advanced stage avowedly unfinished and far short of an ideal 
 perfection, are yet always, in a certain sense, complete, even in their earliest 
 condition. Imperfect as are most of the drawings before you (I do not 
 now speak of the lack of skill they evince, — that I do not apologize for : 
 they are the works of beginners, made during their first week, — but of 
 their imperfect state of development, most of them not having been car- 
 ried beyond the very first stage of the process), primitive and rude as is 
 the means employed in their production, they are still, as I think you will 
 agree, in a certain sense sufficient. They tell their own story, they give the 
 main action and character of the object they represent, its relation to its sur- 
 roundings, its pictorial quality in light and shade ; its form, its total effect, its 
 relation to the background, its position in space are given, — not, indeed, 
 exhaustively, but, as I have said, completely, as far as they go. The detail, 
 both of the outline and of the modelling, is omitted, but they convey a chief 
 part of the impression you receive from the presence of the object itself, — 
 pretty much everything, in fact, that you get at the first glance. To get the 
 
Charcoal Drawing, 
 
 227 
 
 rest is worth all the labor and skill it takes to carry the drawing from this 
 early stage to its last practicable perfection. But even as it stands, it is 
 not unsatisfactory. 
 
 And also, as I have said, not only are the least advanced works always, in 
 this sense, complete, but the most advanced are never, in any proper sense, 
 finished. When this process of development has gone as far as it is thought 
 best, for any reason, to carry it, — and it is never worth while to carry it into 
 the delineation of details that cannot be recognized at the distance from 
 which the drawing is to be viewed, — then the process stops, and the drawing, 
 still unfinished but ever complete, is done. One sometimes, to be sure, 
 witnesses the results of the burnishing process that have I spoken of, by which 
 the drawing is gone over and smoothed up by way of finishing off. Some 
 of the drawings which you remember to have lately seen at the rooms of the 
 Art Club, made in accordance with the method I am describing, seemed 
 to have been subjected to this sort of polishing ; but it seems to me that 
 this is contrary to the spirit of the method, as it is certainly injurious to the 
 vigor and character of the result. This was indeed sufficiently demonstrated 
 by a comparison of these drawings with others at their side, from the same 
 admirable school, in which, on a close examination, the sharp edges and flat 
 planes could be discerned even in the softest folds of the draperies. 
 
 The same may be said of the treatment of outlines. A real curve must be 
 drawn with a sweep of the hand, the broken line first put in serving only as a 
 rough guide ; but when a line is very much broken, it is often safer and 
 better, after resolving it into its elements, to leave it as it is, even at the risk 
 of a little angularity, than to attempt further refinements of form. Of course 
 it is well to improve the line, if you can. What I mean is, that very often 
 you can't, and that it is better to let it remain a succession of straight lines 
 than to substitute curved lines, which pretend to be more accurate but are 
 not. 
 
 III. So much for the method of procedure, the modus operandi, which, 
 although particularly suited to charcoal, is, as I have said, practicable in a 
 degree with almost any material ; but the main advantages of the method 
 are independent of the material used, and consist in this, — that it is conducive 
 to rapidity of work, to the accuracy and artistic quality of the result, and to 
 the development of some of the highest qualities of the draughtsman. Let 
 us consider these points in succession. 
 
 In the first place, it is obviously conducive to rapidity of execution ; for 
 a good share of the work is achieved at once by the simplest and most 
 expeditious means, and whatever further elaboration the drawing receives 
 finds the ground already prepared for it, the form already blocked out, so 
 that a comparatively trifling labor is all that is needed to make the correc- 
 tions required. That this rapidity and economy of time and patience is a 
 good thing, that in these pursuits time and labor are worth saving, would 
 hardly need to be insisted upon, but that it sometimes seems to be thought 
 that, as practice makes perfect, the more time and labor one can spend on 
 merely disciplinary work the better. Let me, in reply, cite the opinion of a 
 
228 
 
 7 he Antefix Papers, 
 
 writer* who, in an atmosphere sometimes supposed to favor a mechanical 
 and treadmill way of working, eagerly protests against this idea, urging that 
 labor is serviceable as discipline only in proportion to the amount of thought 
 put into it. " Educational drawing," he says, " should be looked upon as the 
 putting on paper of knowledge of facts and form ; every line should be an 
 attempt to fix and record the result of intellectual effort and comprehension. 
 Masterly drawing is the result of knowledge." " It is lamentable to see stu- 
 dents taking months to acquire knowledge which, by another method, could 
 be imparted in a week. ' Ars longa, vita brevis est,' and that system is the 
 best by which the student gains the greatest knowledge in the shortest time." 
 And again, in a somewhat different connection, *' Not only does rapidity 
 enable more work to be done, but the multitude of works affords a larger 
 experience." 
 
 In the second place, this method of going to work is conducive both 
 to the accuracy and to the artistic quality of the result. It produces, that 
 is to say, good drawings, drawings exhibiting both these indispensable char- 
 acteristics. Their accuracy in all that concerns the main movement and 
 essential characteristics of form, as shown by the distribution of the main masses 
 of light and shade, is indeed secured at the outset by concentrating upon these 
 points the workman's whole attention during the earlier stages of the work, ab- 
 stracting it from all consideration of details. These details are often so con- 
 spicuous and so interesting that one can only prevent their engrossing his 
 attention by rigidly and systematically refusing to see them until the main forms 
 have been disposed of And as each of these details, in turn, comes up for 
 consideration, a substantial accuracy in the rendering of its character also is 
 almost inevitable : the groundwork is already prepared, as we have seen, and 
 there is but little chance of going astray either in the outline or in the model- 
 ling, where the range is thus limited, and where, within that range, there is so 
 little to do. 
 
 But the most important thing, in a pictorial point of view, and at the same 
 time the most difficult thing of all to observe and to render with fidelity, is 
 not the shape of each different mass of light or shade, but its value, meaning 
 thereby, as I have explained, its intensity of light or shade relatively to the 
 surfaces about it and to the background against which they are all relieved. 
 This varies, of course, according as a surface is more or less turned towards 
 direct or reflected light, as it is intrinsically darker or lighter in hue, and as it 
 is more or less obscured by the illuminated air interposed between it and the 
 eye. The apparent value of any surface, the relative amount of light it sends to 
 the eye depends, that is to say, on the degree of illumination it receives, on its 
 power of absorbing or reflectmg light, and on what we call aerial perspective 
 or the modifying effect of the intervening atmosphere. The expression, then, 
 of form, color, and distance depends mainly upon the accurate rendering of 
 the relations of value ; it is indeed almost the whole of drawing, — only the 
 consummate master can render it well. But under the method we are 
 
 * See Lectures and Lessons on Art," by F. W. Moody, Instructor in Decorative Art at the South 
 Kensington Museum. London. 1873. 
 
Charcoal Drawing, 
 
 229 
 
 describing, it becomes comparatively easy to render, first, because the shape 
 and tone of the tints is the chief and only point of interest, from which 
 attention is never diverted by questions of detail ; and secondly, because in 
 all the successive stages of its development, from the first rough blocking 
 out to the last touch which it is thought worth while to give, all parts of the 
 work are advanced simultaneously, so that it is comparatively easy to judge 
 whether their relations to each other are properly preserved. An accurate 
 rendering of values is indeed almost impossible to secure except by working 
 all over a drawing at once, developing the whole simultaneously, as a whole. 
 
 All that has just been said, and indeed everything that can be said of this 
 method of looking at things, applies with special force to the study and rep- 
 resentation of landscape. The omission of details is indeed here a necessity; 
 and the most that can be done with any material is to indicate, by a care- 
 ful study of the values of different objects, their form, color, and relative 
 distance. 
 
 And this method of work is obviously favorable not only to rapidity and 
 to the accuracy of the drawings produced, but to their artistic character. 
 That they should be strong and vigorous, and that they should have a certain 
 unity of purpose, would naturally follow from the amount of headwork put 
 into them. The discriminating observation of the facts before him, the sharp 
 analysis of their relations, the definite judgment what to do and what not to 
 do, which this method forces upon the workman, would suffice to secure unity 
 and vigor. But it is not these that I have in mind in speaking of artistic 
 qualities. Accuracy does not make a drawing a work of art, nor even do 
 unity and vigor of treatment. What makes a work of art is the purpose that 
 gives it birth, the feeling that informs it, the artist's interest in what he 
 represents. Now, this interest, this feeling, this purpose, exhibits itself in 
 drawing, as in speech, by emphasis. The draughtsman — the artist, rather — 
 accentuates the point he cares most about and which he wishes to urge, to 
 force even, upon the attention and admiration of others, and slights, subor- 
 dinates, omits every detail that is irrelevant to his purpose or which 
 threatens to interfere with it. The more eager and in earnest he is, — the 
 more artistic, that is, his work is, — the more is he disposed to attend first of 
 all and chiefly to the main movement, the essential and characteristic features, 
 the total effect, and to subordinate the accessories, openly omitting what is 
 really accidental and irrelevant ; the more disposed, that is, to follow just 
 such a method as the one I have described, attending to the masses first and 
 to the details afterwards. 
 
 This has in fact been the method of almost all schools from Raphael 
 down. It is sometimes called the French method, because the French are 
 at the present moment the most conspicuous in its use, and have indeed 
 devised materials, such as charcoal and the stump, particularly adapted to it ; 
 but the method itself .is as independent of nationality as it is of material. 
 Artists have everywhere in every country adopted it. I do not mean that 
 they have proceeded to make drawings exactly in this or that way, but that 
 they have given their attention first to their main masses and main move- 
 
230 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 ment, considering other things as secondary and letting them fall into place 
 as they were wanted, and have worked on that idea. So long as one does 
 this, so long as he gives his masses the first place in his mind, it is a mere 
 matter of convenience whether he does his work one way or another. For 
 beginners it is essential to develop their work step by step in the order of 
 their thought ; but a master may of course work as he likes, and, if he can, 
 finish up as he goes along, inch by inch, as Stuart is said to have done, 
 for it is the course of thought, not the course of the work, that is the 
 important thing, — the habit of mind, not the mechanical process. It is not 
 because this method involves a more efficient manipulation that it is 
 approved, but because it involves a more intelligent and efficient attitude of 
 the mind. To attend first to essentials and to let unessentials wait or go by 
 altogether, involves a larger way of looking at things, a more comprehensive 
 observation, and fosters a habit of regarding things in the mass and in their 
 entirety. If this is done, it is a mere matter of convenience, a question of 
 personal skill on the part of the artist, whether he puts down all his thoughts 
 or not. 
 
 Finally, this attitude of mind and the method of work to which it gives 
 shape, and which in turn tends to render it habitual, is obviously conducive 
 to the development of some of the best qualities of the draughtsman. To 
 learn to see things as they really are, not in their accidents and their details 
 but in their essentials, and even in temporary and accidental effects to seize 
 the essential element of the effect, is just what the artist of every kind most 
 needs to learn. It is this discriminating perception that distinguishes the 
 real artist, not a mechanical facility of hand or a mechanical accuracy of 
 eye. The child who, when first shown a picture by Titian, exclaimed, " Why, 
 he sees things just as I do ! " showed her friends that she was not only a 
 prodigy of talent, which they knew already, but that she had the artistic per- 
 ception which is the soul of a painter. This power, although, like every 
 other, existing in different persons in different degrees, may, like every other, 
 be developed and strengthened by exercise. It is not the least of the claims 
 of the method of drawing under consideration that it not only exercises the 
 powers of attention and analysis and judgment, but that it incites the artist 
 to let his mind float freely over the whole surface of things, as Mr. Arnold 
 might say, and, neglecting the obvious and obtrusive details that are so likely 
 to entrap the attention, to enter into their real spirit and character. 
 
 IV. You may be disposed, perhaps, to think that all this may be true enough, 
 and important for painters, but that it is not important for you ; that these 
 considerations relate to high art, not to the more modest paths of industrial 
 or decorative art which you and your pupils are to follow ; that it will be time 
 enough to think of these things when some special talents are manifested by 
 somebody that seem to demand a higher training. Now, admitting that 
 there is a certain kind of drawing necessary to be done which is absolutely 
 mechanical, so that an animated machine would do it just as well as a man, 
 still I say that even for this kind of draughtsmanship it is a good thing for 
 the draughtsman to have the training this method gives, and this for two 
 
Charcoal Drawing. 
 
 231 
 
 reasons : in the first place, that kind of work, since accuracy is its only 
 merit, needs every aid to accuracy that any method can aiford, and we have 
 seen that this method has pretensions on this score that are not to be over- 
 looked. It is found, indeed, that for antiquarian and scientific purposes, 
 where abject literalness is the main thing to be secured, draughtsmen trained 
 in these methods are the best ; they are most apt at seizing the individuality 
 of form or character which makes it desirable to draw such objects at all. 
 But in the second place, most work of this sort is done nowadays by pho- 
 tography, and the draughtsman is called in to do what the photograph cannot 
 do, that is, to exercise judgment and taste, and the higher his quality the bet- 
 ter he will do even the inferior work, and the more rapidly he will be promoted 
 to work that is superior. In fact, the rudiments of a superior culture, especially 
 in one's own Hne of life, never do any one any harm. 
 
 But this is not the sort of work which this school is ultimately intended to 
 foster ; it is industrial drawing, properly so called, that is to say, the applica- 
 tion of design to manufactures, or decorative art. If you suppose that this is a 
 simple, easy, or subordinate branch of art, or that mere draughtsmanship is 
 of any use in it, you are very much mistaken. Both in theory and in practice 
 it requires the exercise of the highest faculties and involves in its degree 
 the highest qualities of art ; it is knowledge of form and skill in composition 
 that are necessary in industrial art, not a mechanical imitation of nature. 
 And here I may again quote the writer of whom I have already spoken. 
 After pointing out that naturalistic art is necessarily imitative, and that 
 decorative art and ideal art are in principle the same, " On the one hand," 
 he says, " the representation of facts or subject, is the purpose, — on the 
 other, to cover a given space beautifully ; and the union of these two is the 
 finest art, for a space is not the less beautifully filled because a story is 
 at the same time told in it. The spandrils of Michelangelo are examples 
 of both qualities. It is not by accident that decorative art and ideal art have 
 always flourished together ; for the same technical knowledge is necessary 
 to both. The greatest artists have been the greatest ornamentalists." And 
 I may add that decoration should be, in its way, just what Veronese or 
 Titian would have made it. This may seem to you discouraging doctrine, 
 since we cannot expect to find such men, and if we could they would not 
 spend their lives designing furniture and calicoes. But what distinguishes 
 these men is their greatness ; they differ from more common folks not in 
 kind but in degree : and men of the same quality, not adequately endowed to 
 make painters, but capable of doing less difficult work as well as it can be 
 done, may turn up any day. They do. Now, in order to fill beautifully a 
 given space, the space must be regarded as a whole; the main distribution of 
 masses of color and the main movement of the lines is the main thing. This 
 is what we mean by composition. It follows at once that the way of work- 
 ing we have been considering and the way of looking at things and thinking 
 of them on which it is based and which in turn it tends to foster, are just 
 those which a school of industrial art should employ. And this is, I may 
 say, eminently the case in the study and practice of architectural design. 
 
232 
 
 The Antefix Papers, 
 
 It is said, moreover, and it is a saying too significant not to be repeated, that 
 the way of regarding things which a draughtsman thus acquires soon pervades 
 every department of his thought, until it becomes a trait of his whole intellec- 
 tual character ; that, by an easy analogy he comes to look at everything in 
 life largely and simply, in its most important and significant aspect, taking no 
 trouble about trifles and details which have really no interest, and not being 
 troubled by them ; so that the study of drawing, thus pursued, not only opens 
 a new sense in art, but makes the whole of life seem simpler, nobler, and more 
 serene. If this is so, we may here find an answer, and believe it to be one of 
 the true answers to the question so often asked, — what good art or the pursuit 
 of art really does. That it makes life pleasanter seems to many, both of those 
 who regard it from within and of those who look on from without, hardly an 
 adequate account of it, hardly a sufficient exposition of its function in the 
 organization of society. But if, when rightly pursued, it gives happiness and 
 dignity to life, by helping men to a clearer insight into the real nature of things, 
 one may name it, without misgiving, in the same breath with literature, 
 science, and religion. 
 
 The question might arise, and it is one which can hardly fail to arise in 
 your own minds, whether this way of going to work is suited to beginners, and 
 whether this way of looking at things is reasonably to be expected of children ; 
 the question, that is, naturally arises whether this method of work is a useful 
 one for a teacher of drawing to take up. It may be admitted, I think, with- 
 out hesitation, that, considering the intellectual character of the workit exacts 
 and the continuous and concentrated attention it requires, it would hardly be 
 expected that very young children should find it interesting or profitable. This 
 is a practical question, in regard to which I can only say that in the few cases 
 in which I have known the experiment to be tried it has succeeded. But if the 
 experiments had failed, it would have furnished only another proof that children 
 and grown persons often need different methods of instruction. For that this 
 way of drawing is a capital introduction to the subject for all persons old 
 enough to entertain the ideas on which it is based has been abundantly proved 
 by experiment. Besides its obvious advantages in occupying and stimulating 
 the mind, so that a drawing becomes not so much a piece of taskwork to be done 
 as a lesson to be studied and understood, the peculiarity just now pointed out, 
 that even in its must unfinished state work done in this way is nevertheless 
 significant, and in a sense complete, offers the teacher a great advantage. He 
 is able to take a drawing away from a pupil as soon as he has done all he knows 
 how to do, without discouraging him or making him feel that all his previous 
 labor is thrown away because he is not allowed to go on and finish it. The 
 student may thus be kept at work beginning one drawing after another, of dif- 
 ferent subjects, until he has learned how to begin, how to seize the main move- 
 ment in a few lines, — in a word, how to sketch. And this is in itself a lesson 
 of great value. It is something to learn that, as in the case of this sarcoph- 
 agus, nothing is too difficult to attack if you go simply enough about it. 
 When one has learned to put in his main hues with accuracy, he may be allowed 
 to carry his work to a second stage. This saves the student from the utter 
 
Charcoal Drawing. 
 
 233 
 
 loss of time and labor which comes from carefully elaborating a work funda- 
 mentally wrong at the start ; moreover, it affords a solution of a most per- 
 plexing question, — the question whether to begin teaching with outline or with 
 shading. If outline is chosen, the work is almost inevitably not only uninterest- 
 ing, but inaccurate : until one has some experience in shading he hardly learns 
 what accuracy of line means or feels its necessity ; if, on the other hand, 
 shading iS' taken up, each drawing takes so long to do that the drawing of 
 outlines is hardly practised at all. But by taking different subjects in rapid 
 succession and at first carrying them through only the first stages of the pro- 
 cess, as was the case with most of the drawings on the screen before you, both 
 kinds of work are kept constantly in hand ; one takes just about as much time 
 as the other ; and, what is more important than all, the habit is formed of put- 
 ting in the line with an eye to the shading, and the shading with an eye to the 
 outline, and both in subordination to the general effect and ultimate result. 
 
 But a student should not be allowed to do more than two or three drawings 
 at a time in this imperfect way, lest he come to believe that the rough indica" 
 tion and suggestion of form is really sufficient. Every third or fourth draw- 
 ing should be carried as far as the student can possibly carry it. He thus 
 not only learns that the first step is not everything, but finds out what points 
 it is really essential to give at the start in order ultimately to succeed. 
 
 V. These, then, are the advantages claimed for the system of drawing which 
 you are about to take up, and these are the considerations which justify its 
 introduction into your course of study. But in thus urging its claims upon 
 your respect, it is no more than fair and just to point out that, admirable and 
 comprehensive as it is, it still chiefly regards one side of the subject, and that 
 an exclusive and extreme application of its principles may lead to a certain 
 narrowness and to the development of the faults which it is not specially 
 designed to counteract. Everything, however good, has what the French call 
 les defauts de ses qualites^ the faults which belong to its merits. In any work 
 the things that are Considered first and chief must naturally receive most thought 
 and attention j the things that come last, less. Now, inasmuch as all objects 
 appear to the eye as masses of color, the line that bounds them having no 
 real existence, but being simply the limit where one color stops and another 
 begins, it might be claimed for a system of drawing which gives chief attention 
 to these masses, leaving the outline to take care of itself, that in addition to 
 what has already been said in its favor it was the most natural way of work- 
 ing, producing results which most resemble in effect the effect of the objects 
 themselves. And it is true that nothing can, in effect, be more unlike the 
 real aspect of things than the results of a contrary way of going to work, in 
 which the outlines, which have no substantial existence, are the only things 
 represented, and the surfaces, which are really the only things to be seen, are 
 left blank. A piece of white paper with black lines drawn over it is certainly 
 as different, in its total effect, from a bunch of flowers or a group of men as 
 one visual object can be from another. Nevertheless, these bounding lines, 
 unreal though they are, and without breadth or thickness, first catch the eye 
 and make the most vigorous and lasting impression upon the memory. It is 
 
 30 
 
234 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 shape here that we chiefly attend to. An outline drawing, accordingly, abso- 
 lutely unlike as it is, in general effect, to the object it represents, and consist- 
 ing as it does in lines which have no counterpart in nature, gives, not indeed 
 an exhaustive representation, but yet in a sense a complete one. It tells the 
 chief part of what is to be told. The color and the modelling are hardly 
 missed ; if made with skill and care, indeed, it suffices to indicate much of 
 the movement of the surface within and to express a large part of the life and 
 character, the vigor of movement and delicacy of form that it is possible by 
 any means to convey. It is, indeed, the chief means of conveying them ; it is 
 in the line that expression chiefly resides. Let me read you what Blake, him- 
 self a master of line, says of it : — 
 
 " The great and golden rule of art, as well as of life, is this : That the 
 more distinct, sharp, and wiry the bounding line, the more perfect the work of 
 art ; and the less keen and sharp, the greater is the evidence of weak imita- 
 tion, plagiarism, and bungling. Great inventors in all ages knew this : Pro- 
 togenes and Apelles knew each other by this line. Raphael, Michelangelo, and 
 Albert Diirer are known by this and this alone. The want of this determinate 
 and bounding form evidences the want of idea in the artist's mind and the 
 pretence of the plagiary in all its branches." 
 
 Whether, then, we begin thus with the lines, or whether, as just now, in our 
 charcoal-work, with the masses of light and shade, it is, you see, possible to 
 put so much care and thought into our beginnings as to make what remains 
 to do, in either case, seem quite secondary in importance. And this being 
 so, it could hardly fail to come about that people should differ as to which is 
 really the main thing, some maintaining that accuracy and delicacy of line is 
 everything, that truth of form and of expression resides in the precise definition 
 and delineation both of the main features and of the parts, and holding that, 
 if these essential truths are maintained, other things, such as the modelling 
 and the " values," may in due time easily be added. In short, since the lines 
 give two dimensions and the modelling only adds the third, it is obvious that 
 the first is twice as important as the second. Moreover, it is more reasonable 
 to fix the outline and then model the form indicated than to attend to the sur- 
 faces first, and determine their extent afterwards ; and if this involves, in a 
 measure, the study of particulars first and of general effects afterwards, it is 
 plain that if you get every part right the whole cannot be wrong, and that a 
 knowledge of the parts is a necessary preliminary to any proper comprehen- 
 sion of the whole. 
 
 This aspect of the subject is, you see, different enough from that which I 
 was just now exhibiting to you. The point of view is different, and the sys- 
 tem of procedure it implies differs accordingly. One system regards the 
 surfaces, the other the lines that limit them. One might say, roughly, for 
 distinction's sake, that the first is the painter's way of looking at things, the 
 other the draughtsman's. I should then have to recall what I was saying a 
 moment ago, and say, instead, that the representation of values was almost 
 the whole of painting, and that the tracing of lines constituted almost the 
 whole of drawing. But the common usages of language hardly warrant this 
 
Charcoal Drawing. 235 
 
 form of statement, though I think it will suffice to convey to you the idea it 
 is meant to express. The word " drawing " is generally used to signify what- 
 ever is done, whether by outline or by light and shade, to exhibit form, and 
 "painting" to signify the representation of color. In this sense, the values 
 belong to painting or to drawing according as they indicate color or form. 
 
 Each of these two systems, of course, recognizes the importance of the 
 considerations which the other system puts forward, but it considers them 
 of secondary importance. Both systems propose ultimately to cover the 
 whole ground, both contemplating the same ultimate perfection and fulness 
 of achievement. But however generous the intention, you can easily under- 
 stand that each is, in practice, likely to give an undue, if not an exclusive 
 prominence to its own side of the subject; and I think you will be disposed 
 to agree with me that the plan is a wise one which is pursued in your own 
 case, of taking up both systems simultaneously, not waiting for either in its 
 complete development to do the work of the other, but letting exercises in 
 line accompany the exercises in shading, each method supplementing the 
 other's natural deficiencies. In schools, also, in which the study of 
 values has been made the chief thing, it has been found well, in practice, to 
 introduce special exercises in line, so that the student may not only acquire a 
 certain dexterity of hand and eye, the importance of which, in ali branches 
 of industrial art, can hardly be overrated, but may be trained to observe and 
 appreciate that refinement of form and delicacy of expression which line 
 alone can give. 
 
 But however profitable it may be thus in practice to combine these two 
 methods of work, however it may contribute to a large and generous view of 
 the whole subject to contemplate it in both these aspects, the considerations 
 I have urged in behalf of the way of thinking and the way of working I have 
 endeavored to explain to you seem to me still to give it the first place in our 
 regard. Without further enlarging upon them, or delaying you to point out 
 the practical dangers of the opposite method, the defects that go along with 
 its merits, I will ask your attention to a distinction which seems to me fairly 
 to characterize these two systems, and to go far to justify this preference. 
 It seems to me that the way of going to work by a careful delineation of 
 form, working up from particulars to the whole, is natural and proper for the 
 copyist, for the draughtsman whose aim is the exact reproduction of what is 
 before him, — that it is the method, in short, of imitative art ; while the other 
 way, beginning with the general idea, and proceeding gradually to the details, 
 is the way a designer goes to work, — that it is the method of ideal art. 
 These different ways of thinking and working probably spring, at bottom, 
 from fundamentally different views of the relation of man to nature and 
 of the relation of both to art, — indeed, of the nature and purpose of art itself. 
 
 Without going into the general question, however, it suffices for our present 
 purpose to observe that in the industrial arts, the advancement of which is 
 the purpose of this institution, the draughtsman is not a copyist or imitator, 
 but a designer, and that the methods of work natural and proper in the 
 practice of original design are the proper methods for us and our pupils. In 
 
The A^ttefix Papers. 
 
 the practice of design, at least, the study of the masses must precede that of 
 the details ; the general movement must be determined before the special 
 forms are made out ; things must be sketched before they can be drawn. 
 And this view is confirmed and illustrated by what happens in the analogous 
 literary process, w^here a rough sketch is prepared before the more finished 
 work is attempted. A passage in Mr. Mill's autobiography is here so perti- 
 nent that I will read it to you : " I have found," he says, " that the patience 
 necessary for the careful elaboration of the details of composition and expres- 
 sion costs much less effort after the entire subject has been once gone 
 through, and the substance of all that I find to say has in some manner, 
 however imperfect, been got upan paper. The only thing that I am careful 
 in the first draft to make as perfect as I am able is the arrangement. If that 
 is bad, the whole thread on which the ideas string themselves becomes ^ 
 twisted, . . . and a first draft with this original vice is next to useless as a 
 foundation for the final treatment." 
 
 This passage, without the change of a word, exactly applies to artistic 
 composition. Tlie intellectual process in all composition is indeed the same. 
 Now, the method of drawing which makes this process familiar, which fos- 
 ters this mental habit, is the one most to our purpose ; and that, it seems to- 
 me, is the one which forms the subject of this discourse. 
 
 VI. I have spoken of the study of line and of details as forming o-ne system^ 
 and of the study of surfaces and of the masses of light and shade as forming 
 another, because, in fact and in the nature of things, these generally gO' 
 together. The study of line naturally tends to exactness and a minute pre- 
 cision, directing attention to the accurate representation of parts ; the study 
 of surfaces naturally brings up their relations of light and shade and a con- 
 sideration of the general effect : but this association, although a natural, is 
 not a necessary one, and a chief part of the benefit to be derived from the 
 studies you are now to begin will be missed if you do not learn, even in your 
 outline work, to proceed from generals to particulars, first determining the 
 general movement of the forms, and then proceeding to put in the details in 
 subordination to that general movement, making the line at last express 
 everything that o-utline can of grace and vigor. Everything that I have said 
 of the advantage of proceeding from generals to particulars applies just as 
 much to the treatment of lines as to that of surfaces. 
 
 And on the other hand, the study of surface and of light and shade, although it 
 naturally invites a larger and broader treatment, does not necessarily involve it, 
 as the experience of almost all drawing schools, our own included, abundantly 
 shows. In the shading, as in the outline, a premature effort to obtain neat- 
 ness and a mechanical precision leads to poor and paltry results ; it leads 
 to the production of those painful and elaborate works with which we are all 
 too familiar, patiently stippled to the last degree, marvels of painful and mis- 
 directed labor, but destitute of character and expression, and liable, how- 
 ever careful in parts, to remain unstudied and inaccurate as a whole. The too 
 exclusive employment of the point as an instrument tends obviously in this direc- 
 tion ; its range is limited, and it almost necessarily confines the attention to 
 
Charcoal Drawing. 
 
 237 
 
 a restricted field. The English system of schools of art, with the training 
 school at South Kensington at their head, have fallen into this error. These 
 schools have, in the course of fifteen or twenty years, raised the art manufac- 
 tures of Great Britain from the lowest rank to nearly the highest ; and if they 
 have missed the success they might have reached, and if these works have 
 failed to exhibit the higher artistic quality they might easily have attained, it 
 is in great part due, it seems to me, to their exclusive preference for the point 
 in drawing and to the system of drawing which this preference implies and 
 involves. It is the object of the course of lessons you are now about to re- 
 ceive to supplement the deficiencies of the English methods in this particular. 
 For in our own system of schools, and in this school especially, which stands 
 at its head, it has been the intention from the outset, while profiting by the 
 successes of the English system, to profit also by its failures, avoiding the 
 errors which have limited its usefulness. It is hoped that the advantages of 
 both may be secured for us by incorporating into the English system of 
 organization and management the French system of drawing. For it may be 
 said that, whila in England they use the stump, when they use it at all, as if 
 it were a hard point, in France they employ the point — and it is of course in 
 frequent use — in the same spirit as they use charcoal or the stump. I think 
 I cannot better conclude these remarks than by citing upon this point the 
 emphatic testimony of one of the English art masters, sent to Paris by the 
 English Government in 1867 to report upon the Continental systems of art 
 education. The report * says : — 
 
 " This difference of feehng, which is observable in both fine and industrial 
 art, between the English and Continental works, is not difficult to account 
 for ; the explanation of it is to be found in the very different degree to which 
 drawing is taught generally in England and in France and Germany, but 
 principally is it owing to the superior system upon which the subject is 
 studied in France, at least, to what it is in England. . . . The French 
 method is so opposite, and the results of the instruction, as seen in painting, 
 architecture, sculpture, and industrial art, so far beyond all that we have done 
 recently in England, that it would be well for us if, upon the basis of our 
 English school of art method, we could engraft that element in the French 
 (if we can only discover it) which gives such extraordinary mastery over 
 drawing possessed by both their artists and workmen." 
 
 "The most interesting study to an English art-master was the educational 
 display in the French Court. Here, if at all, could be detected the secret of 
 that power of drawing, before referred to, which is the chief characteristic of 
 applied art in French manufactures, as well as in the fine art-works in archi- 
 tecture, painting, and sculpture. . . . Though the number of works was 
 limited, there was sufficient to display what are the aims of the schools, and 
 to allow of a fair judgment concerning the success which meets their eff"orts. 
 The aim is very humble, the success distinguished. It is refreshing, after 
 seeing the handsome drawings, nicely mounted, of the English and some 
 
 * Prize Report on the Art Educational Section of the Paris Exhibition of 1867. By Walter Smith, 
 Head Master of the Schools of Art in Leeds, Bradford, and Wakefield. London, 1869. 
 
238 
 
 The Antefix Papers. 
 
 German Courts, to see here the rough and roughly-presented studies of 
 French students. Occasionally a moderately elaborate light-and-shade draw- 
 ing from the antique was elevated to a place of honor on the walls of the 
 French Court, but the great majority were in portfolios in the wooden bins, 
 one of which was allotted to each school. Here, upon common paper, were 
 numerous studies, some from the most execrable flat examples of ornamental 
 design ; others from casts of the antique of ornament and figure ; and others 
 from the living model, — all wrought in charcoal and crayon, rubbed and 
 stumped in their general working, and many finished by spirited touches 
 with the chalk point and enrichment of the deep shadows by the same means. 
 The method of progression appeared to be from shaded flat copies to the 
 cast, and from the cast to the living model. The first exercises were large 
 details of ornament and animal forms, coarsely but effectively shaded in 
 chalk, so that from the very beginning the student is taught that the end of 
 his work is to get an effect of perfect realization in light and shade. This 
 course of study I saw in operation in several of the municipal schools in 
 Paris, both male and female, and can speak of it with the greatest admira- 
 tion. Little boys, who with us would be languishing over outline drawing of 
 difficult pieces of ornament, which they have to do for many weary months, 
 in the French schools are working away deeply interested over their draw- 
 ings in charcoal and chalk, studying the effect of roundness in their copy, 
 and struggling hard to get it in their own drawings. Then I observed that 
 though a student in England might work for weeks over an outline which is 
 only a bad imitation of another outline done, as it were, by brute force, the 
 French pupil either makes or mars his study in three or four evenings, and it 
 is more or less an effort of his own feeling, his own spirit and knowledge. If 
 he is in a low stage of perception of form or effect, he does his best honestly in 
 that stage, and goes on quickly from it to something higher without stopping 
 to affect in his work a refinement he does not feel, or waste his time in the 
 mere mimicry of finish he cannot understand." 
 
 " It appears to me that this French method of teaching drawing is the one 
 lesson which may be learnt by an art-educationalist from the Paris Exhibi- 
 tion. We see in all the French productions of art and industry, without 
 exception, intense power and perfect facility of drawing, and we see in French 
 schools of art a simple, easy way of teaching drawing, differing totally from 
 all other methods displayed in the Exhibition, or that we know to exist. I 
 do not attribute the brilliant artistic powers of Frenchmen wholly to the way 
 in which they learn to draw ; but I do say there is a definite connection 
 between the' two things, — the unique method of instruction and the attain- 
 ment of unique and perfect drawing-power in art." 
 
 " Compared with the Enghsh school of art system, the French is deficient 
 in breadth and comprehensiveness, and yet it gets more valuable results than 
 the English does. . . . What we want in England is to engraft upon our 
 system this French plan as to drawing, and then we should have absorbed, 
 as it were, the soul of French art-education. It is, I am prepared to allow, a 
 very rough and ready method, — all the more suitable, therefore, for students 
 
Charcoal Drawing, 
 
 who begin their studies with taste and power at zero ; but it has, on the other 
 hand, capacity of development to suit the education of the most perfect taste 
 and the maturest power. Some years ago the practice of working light-and- 
 shade drawings with leather and stump as instruments, using chalk or char- 
 coal as a medium, was entirely scouted in English schools of art. The 
 examination and reports upon the French Art Schools' Exhibition by inspec- 
 tors and masters of the English schools, in 1864, drew attention to the 
 excellence of the method, and its adoption was very strongly advocated by at 
 least one master. Since then, both in London and the provinces, several 
 masters have partially adopted the system, and it was well represented in 
 this year's national competition in London." 
 
 " What I propose to do is to see whether we cannot combine with our 
 English art-education the good features by which the French and German 
 educationalists try to develop art-feeling among the actual producers of the 
 works." 
 
 The illustrations which accompany this paper are prepared by the heliotype 
 process of Messrs. Osgood & Co, One page is made up from the drawings 
 referred to in the text, most of which were made by students in the architec- 
 tural department of the Institute of Technology. The bunch of fruit, how- 
 ever, shown in two stages at the foot of the page, was drawn by pupils of the 
 Female School of Design at the Cooper Institute in New York, where a 
 system of drawing is pursued substantially the same as that described in 
 this paper, under the direction of Mrs. Susan N. Carter. The other illustra- 
 tions are from drawings by Mrs. Carter herself, and are here reproduced by 
 the kind permission of Messrs. Prang & Co., to whom they belong, and who 
 are proposing to publish them in lithography as examples for drawing- 
 schools. The four drawings of the vase exhibit the four principal stages of 
 the work, beginning with the outline and going on to the indication of the prin- 
 cipal masses of light and shade, the modeUing of the light by graduated 
 shading, and the modelling of the shade by the introduction of reflected 
 lights. The head of Homer exhibits a late stage of a more difficult 
 example, and illustrates the method of modelling by planes as described in 
 the text. 
 
I 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 77, line 36, for " Sir Charles " read Charles L. 
 137, line 42, for " choudrus" read chondrus. 
 139, line 2, for "lazetta" read lagetta. 
 139, line 23, for ''Latechu" read Catechu. 
 139, line 27, for "sinaceae" read linace(E. 
 169, line 12, for "it" read lead glass. 
 
 171, line 18, for " a paint is mixed with it " read a paint is 
 mixed. 
 
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 crests, etc., of any design, at seven days' notice. Also, Glass engraved to order, 
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 Oopeland & Minton's Parian Busts, Statuettes, G-roupes, etc. 
 
 Novelties in variety, high and low cost pieces. 
 
 BRIDAL AND BIRTHDAY PRESENTS 
 
 Of over 1,000 varieties, in Glass, Parian, China, Majolica, Faience, etc. Table Cut- 
 lery, Silver Plated Spoons and Forks of the most reliable manufactures. Lowest 
 market values always. Call and examine goods and prices. 
 
 Store Open from 7 1-2 a. m. to 6 p. m. 
 
 JONES, McDUFFEE & STRATTON. 
 
 (Late Otis Norcross & Co.) 
 
 COR. FEDERAL AND FRANKLIN STREETS, - - - BOSTON. 
 
 C4) 
 
E. BLAKESLEE & CO. 
 
 GALLERIES, 
 
 127 Tremont Street, Boston, 
 
 MANUFACTURERS OF 
 
 Picture Frames. 
 
 AND DEALERS IN 
 
 PAINTINGS, 
 
 ENGRA VINGS, 
 
 CHROMOS, 
 
 PHOTOGRAPHS, 
 
 AND OTHER fInE ART GOODS. 
 
 Our facilities for the manufacture of Picture Frames of every variety 
 are unsurpassed. We guarantee satisfaction in every case, and invite 
 special attention to the Quality, Style, and Prices of our work. 
 
 Special terms to Artists and to Students of the Art School. 
 
 Our Stock of Engravings, Water-Colors, Porcelains, English 
 Chromos, Foreign Photographs, etc., has been carefully selected 
 for the Retail Trade, and will be found to include a full line of the 
 most popular and desirable subjects — and also a good collection of 
 Old and Rare Engravings and Etchings. 
 
 E. BL:>1KESLEE & CO., Fine M Dealers, 
 
 Galleries, 127 Tremont Street, Boston 
 (5) 
 
CROSBY. MORSE & FOSS. 
 
 DEALERS IN 
 
 DIAMONDS Ap OTHER &EMS, 
 
 RICH JEWELRY, 
 SILVER WARE, 
 
 AND THE CELEBRATED 
 
 GoRHAM Plated Ware. 
 
 AGENTS FOR THE 
 
 EKEGREN WATCHES, 
 
 With Reed's Patent Micrometer Regulator, 
 
 BY WHICH WATCHES CAN BE EEGULATED WITH GREATER EASE AND 
 EXACTNESS THAN BY ANY OTHER METHOD. 
 
 444 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON. 
 
 (6) 
 
HENRY A. TURNER & CO. 
 
 FDf ITUBE Ap UPHOLSTEflY 
 
 Interior Decorators, 
 
 Rooms over JTos. 25, 27, 29 S 31 West St., 
 
 ENTRANCE, \ 
 NO. 31. 5 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 Furniture for Drawing Rooms, Libraries, Dining Rooms, 
 Chambers, and Halls kept in Store. 
 
 Choice Fabrics for Coverings and Draperies in stock and 
 being received. 
 
 FINITIE OF AIL KIIS MABE TO OEBEE, 
 
 Draperies, Curtains, and Shades made and put up. 
 
 OLD FURNITURE UPHOLSTERED & REPAIRED. 
 
 HENRY A. TURNER. 
 
 FREDERICK W. TURNER 
 
 (7) 
 
Lawrence. Wilde & Co. 
 
 42 CORNHILL, BOSTON, 
 
 Manufacturers of First-class 
 
 FURNITURE 
 
 AND 
 
 INTERIOR FINISHING 
 
 FOR 
 
 Houses, Stores, Banking Rooms, and Offices. 
 DESIGNS, WORKING PLANS, AND ESTIMATES 
 
 FURNISHED TO ARCHITECTS AND BUILDERS. 
 
 We keep in stock a full line of FURNITURE, a large and complete stock of 
 the latest styles of 
 
 Upholstery Goods, 
 
 THE VERY BEST 
 
 HAIR MATTRESSES AND SPRING BEDS 
 
 OF OUR OWN MANUFACTURE. 
 
 FRENCH PLATE MIRRORS, 
 
 with FRAMES MADE IN OUR OWN FACTORY, and all goods usually found in a com- 
 plete establishment. 
 
 2^ ALL WORK GUARANTEED AND PROTECTED. 
 
 (8) 
 
FROST & ADAMS, 
 
 IMPORTERS AND DEALERS IN 
 
 ARTISTS' 
 
 Materials 
 
 OF EVERY DESCRIPTION. 
 
 MjlTHEMjlTICjlL INSTfMEfiTS, 
 
 Architects^ Engineers, and Surveyors 
 Stationery y etc* etc. 
 
 33 AND 35 CORNHILL, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 (») 
 
ESTABLISHED 184S. 
 
 w. J. Mcpherson, 
 
 440 Tremont Street, 
 
 INTERIOR DECORATOR, 
 
 Painter and Designer. 
 
 W. J. MCPHERSON & CO. 
 
 Stained and Mosaic 
 
 FOR 
 
 Ecclesiastical and Domestic Purposes, 
 
 440 TREMONT STREET. 
 
 (10) 
 
WALL PAPERS that illustrate correct principles in 
 mural decoration, — tasteful, appropriate, decorative, not pic- 
 torial ; serviceable and at reasonable prices. 
 
 PARQUETRY FLOORS of « wood-carpeting," manufac- 
 tured from woods 1-4 of an inch thick, thoroughly seasoned and 
 kiln-dried, backed with canvas, the wood and canvas being firmly- 
 united in the most durable manner. When securely nailed to 
 an ordinary floor and finished with oil and shellac, it is imper- 
 vious to water and gives all the advantages of a thick floor at 
 half the cost. It is superior to a thick floor in being less liable 
 to be warped by furnace heat or by the extreme changes of 
 our New England climate.* 
 
 J. F. BUMSTEAD & CO. 
 
 148 Tremont Street, comer of West, 
 BOSTor^r. 
 
 Agents for William Morris & Co., of London. 
 
 Cli) 
 
Messrs. WILLIAMS & EVERETT 
 
 Respectfully invite the attention of all who desire PICTURES or PICTURE 
 FRAMES to the unusual facilities offered by their present establishment, 
 
 508 WASHINGTON STREET, 
 
 (3 & 5 Bedford Street,) BOSTON. 
 
 Their Stock is one of the largest in the country, and includes 
 
 FINE PAINTINGS, 
 
 Foreign and American. 
 
 CHOICE ENGRAVINGS, 
 
 Old and Hare Impressions, and Modem, 
 
 SELECT PHOTOGRAPHS 
 
 Of Scenery, Buildings, and Pictures* 
 
 CHROMO-LITHOGRAPHS, 
 
 French, German, English, and American, 
 
 CARBONS, 
 
 Braun's Celehrated Reproductions. 
 
 PORCELAINS, 
 
 Copies of Fine Pictures. 
 
 AGENTS FOR 
 
 ROGERS' STATUARY GROUPS. 
 
 Special attention given to Framing in neat and artistic styles, 
 and prices as low as same quality of work in any city. 
 
 FINE ART ROOMS, 
 
 508 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 (8 & 8 BEDFORD.) 
 
 WILLIAMS & EVERETT. 
 
 (12) 
 
BOOKS FOR LIBRARIES 
 
 A DICTIONARY OF AMERICAN BIOGRAPHY. Including Men of the 
 Times : Containing nearly ten thousand notices of persons of both sexes, of 
 native and foreign birth, who have been remarkable, or prominently connected 
 with the Arts, Sciences, Literature, Politics, or History of the American Conti- 
 nent. Giving also the pronunciation of many of the foreign and peculiar Amer- 
 ican names, a Key to the assumed names of writers, with a supplement. By 
 Francis S. Drake. 8vo. 1019 double-column pages. Cloth, ^6.00 ; sheep, 
 $7.00. 
 
 A TREASURY OF THOUGHT. An Encyclopaedia of Quotations from Ancient 
 and Modern Authors. By Maturin M. Ballou. 8vo. $5.00. 
 " The most complete and exhaustive volume of the kind with which we are 
 acquainted." — Hartford Courant. 
 
 A DICTIONARY OF THE NOTED NAMES OF FICTION. By William 
 A. Wheeler. ^2.50. 
 " One of the most convenient and desirable of reference-books." 
 
 DR. ARNOLD'S {of Rugby) LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE. By Dean 
 Stanley. ^2.00. 
 A most helpful and inspiring book. 
 
 MATTHEW ARNOLD'S ESSAYS IN CRITICISM. Eleven Essays, Bio- 
 graphical and Critical, which, for richness and clearness of thought and 
 consummate literary art, are not surpassed by any similar papers in English lit- 
 erature. $2.00. 
 
 LOWELL'S AMONG MY BOOKS, $2.00 ; MY STUDY WINDOWS, $2.00. 
 
 Two volumes of the wisest, wittiest, fullest, most delightful essays in the language. 
 HIGGINSON'S ATLANTIC ESSAYS, $2.00 ; OUT-DOOR PAPERS, $1.50. 
 
 Two books of ripe culture, stimulating thought, and rare perfection of style. 
 WHIPPLE'S ESSAYS AND REVIEWS. Two vols. $3.00. Literature and 
 Life, $1.50. Character and Characteristic Men, $1.50. Literature of the 
 Age of Elizabeth, ^1.50. Success and Its Conditions, $1.50. 
 Six volumes of remarkable value to all studious readers. 
 FIELDS'S YESTERDAYS WITH AUTHORS. Thackeray, Dickens, Haw- 
 thorne, etc. i2mo. $2.00. 
 "The volume is full of interest to the lovers of those great authors." — New York 
 World. 
 
 EMERSON'S PROSE WORKS, including Essays (First and Second Series), 
 Representative Men, Miscellaneous, English Traits, and Conduct of Life. 2 
 vols. $5.00. 
 
 " For deep thought, profound sincerity, originality, and classic beauty of style, read 
 Emerson." 
 
 GREG'S ENIGMAS OF LIFE. $2.00. Literary and Social Judgments. $2.00. 
 
 Two books crowded with thought upon topics of great importance and profound 
 interest. 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, on receipt of the price, by 
 the Publishers, 
 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO., BOSTON. 
 
 HELIOTYPES OF RARE ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 By the Heliotype Process are produced perfect fac-similes of rare and valuable 
 engravings, masterpieces of the world's most famous artists, — Diirer, Rembrandt, 
 Marc Antonio, Toschi, Muller, Raphael, Titian, Correggio, Guido, Leonardo da 
 Vinci, Murillo, Velazquez, Vandyck, and others of equal renown. Rare etchings or 
 artist-proof engravings, worth hundreds of dollars each, are reproduced and sold at 
 prices varying from fifty cents to two or three dollars, thus bringing the treasures of 
 art-galleries within the reach of all and affording a means of art-education hitherto 
 unattainable. 
 
 2:^=' Send for Catalogue of Heliotypes. 
 
 JAMESR. OSGOOD & CO., 131 Franklin St,, - - - - BOSTON. 
 
 (13) 
 
DOE & HUNNEWELL 
 
 Invite attention to their very large assortment of new styles of FUR- 
 NITURE of their own manufacture, for Parlors, Dining Rooms, Libra- 
 ries and Chambers, at their Warerooms, 
 
 198 AND 200 TREMONT ST.. BOSTON. 
 
 Occupying the entire building adjoining the Hotel Boylston as Sales- 
 rooms, we are enabled to display a stock of FINE FUR- 
 NITURE unexcelled by any in this city. 
 
 Drapery Curt/ius, L/ce CuRTAiiis, Shades, etc. 
 
 IN GREAT VARIETY. 
 The Newest Novelties in Furniture Coverings and Curtain Ma- 
 terials, together with a fine stock of Silk Goods, Plushes, Sateens, 
 Terrys, Indian Tissues, Cretonnes, Fringes, Gimps, Cords, Tassels and 
 Upholsterers' Hardware suited to the wants of the wholesale and retail 
 trade. Cabinet Work designed and executed to order of every de- 
 scription, including Bank Fittings and Office Furniture. 
 
 FACTORIES AT EAST CAMBRIDGE, 
 {^"Manufacturing our own goods and importing our own fabrics 
 direct from the makers in Europe, we are enabled to furnish first-class 
 goods at first cost. 
 
 DOE & HUNNEWELL, 198 & 200 Tremont St, Boston. 
 
 Chas. W. Kennard & Co. 
 
 JEWELLERS. 
 
 watches, clocks, diamonds, 
 
 No. 122 Tremont Street, 
 
 Opposite Park Street Church. 
 
 RARE GEMS A SPECIALTY, 
 
 (14) 
 
PROF. WALTER SMITH'S SYSTEM OF 
 
 INDUSTRIAL AND ARTISTIC DRAWING. 
 
 The following Diagram shows the order and gradation of Prof. Walter Smith's System of Draw- 
 ing._ It will be observed that the course of instruction develops logically according to the progress of 
 pupils ; and it will also be noted that the whole cost per pupil for books and cards for the first eight 
 years of this course, or till pupils reach the High School, is only $3.75. 
 
 Particular attention is invited to the definite objects aimed at in this systemi and the practical 
 character of the instruction in the Grammar and High School Courses. 
 
 PRIMARY COURSE. 
 
 Comprising Teachers' Manual, $1.00, and two series of 
 Cards at 15 cents each. This course is for the first three 
 years in Primary Schools. Drawings to be made on slates- 
 Cost per pupil for the course, 30 cents. 
 
 It teaches the simplest elements. Beginning with lines and 
 geometrical forms, it teaches the elements of symmetrical 
 arrangement of forms and methods of working ; conven- 
 tional and natural forms ; drawingfrom dictation, memory 
 drawing, and elementary design. In short, this course 
 lays the foundation. 
 
 INTERMEDIATE COURSE 
 
 Comprising Teachers' Manual, $1.25, and three Drawing Books, at 15 
 cents each. This course is for the fourth year's study. Pupils begin 
 to draw on paper. Cost per pupil for the course, 45 cents. 
 
 It reviews the Primary Course, and enlarges the instruction of each fea- 
 ture, and adds instruction in the elements of Conventionalization, His- 
 torical Ornament, and drawing from objects by freehand. 
 
 GRAMMAR COURSE. 
 
 Comprising Teachers' Manual, $z-oo, and twelve Drawing Books at 25 cents each. 
 This course is for the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th years' study, and the drawing is both 
 freehand and instrumental. Cost per pupil for the four years' course, $3.00. 
 
 FREEHAND DIVISION. 
 The Freehand Drawing is applied to 
 Historical Ornament, Model and Ob- 
 ject Drawing, and Botanical Analysis ; 
 and instruction is given in the leading 
 Historical styles of Decoration and 
 Original Design. 
 
 INSTRUMENTAL DIVISION. 
 In Instrumental Drawing problems are 
 given in Plane Geometry, as the basis 
 of all Mechanical Drawing, and also 
 in Parallel and Angular Perspective. 
 
 HIGH SCHOOL COURSE. 
 
 (in preparation.) 
 
 This course is in a measure elective, that is, pupils should be allowed a choice of subjects. The 
 previous instruction prepares pupils for each branch of this course. The text-books will be of 
 the same size and price as those belonging to the Grammar course. 
 
 THE COURSE WILL COMPRISE: — 
 
 FREEHAND DIVISION. 
 Model and Object Drawing in outline, and m 
 light and shade, from text-books and 
 mounted copies. 
 Figure Drawing from mounted copies and 
 from cast. 
 
 Historical Ornament, in light and shade, 
 
 from the cast. 
 The same in color from colored examples. 
 Historical Styles of Decoration contrasted. 
 Botanical Analyses from plants, in color. 
 Applied Design- 
 Landscape Drawing from examples. 
 
 INSTRUMENTAL DIVISION. 
 Advanced Perspective Drawing from text-books 
 and objects. 
 Mechanical Drawing from text-books and 
 
 objects. 
 
 Machine Drawing from text-books and ex- 
 amples. 
 
 Architectural Drawing and Building Con- 
 struction, from text-books and examples. 
 
 L. PRANG & COMPANY, 
 
 ART AND EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHERS, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 (15) 
 
Books on Art 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, - - BOSTON. 
 
 LAOCOON. An Essay upon the Limits of Painting and Poetry. With remarks illustrative of 
 various points in the History of Ancient Art. By GottBold Ephraim Lhssing. Translated 
 by Ellen Frothingham. One volume, i6mo, with pictorial title representing the Laocoon. 
 Price $1.50. 
 
 " The incomparable little book. . . . Its effect upon Goethe can only be appreciated by those who, 
 early in life, have met with this work,jand risen from it with minds widened, strengthened, and inspired. 
 It opened a pathway amid confusion, throwing light upon many of the obscurest problems which tor- 
 inent the artist. . . . Lord Macaulay told me that the reading of this little book formed 'an epochj in 
 his mental history, and that he learned more ahput Art from it than he had ever learned elsewhere." 
 — Lewes' s Life of Goethe. 
 
 _ " We wish it were a text-book in the colleges, for in addition to the excellence of its contents, it 
 is, in respect to its style and method, a specimen of the best sort of writing." — Boston Daily Adver- 
 tiser, 
 
 *' The essay is worthy a place in every library, since it will greatly assist any intelligent reader in 
 his comprehension and criticism of both ancient and modern art ; but especially it should be studied 
 by every poet who has a story to tell, every sculptor who would make a statue, and every painter who 
 would pamt a picture." — L. C. M.^ in the New York Tribune. 
 
 THOUGHTS ABOUT ART. By Philip Gilbert Hamrrton. New edition, revised, with Notes 
 and an Introduction. One handsome volume, uniform with Hamerton's " Intellectual Life." 
 Price $2.00. 
 
 " Fortunate is he who, at an early age, knows what Art is " — Goethe. 
 
 *' Mr. Hamerton is a landscape painter whose eminence has been won by long years of labor. He 
 has spent season after season in the wildest parts of the Scotch Highlands ; he has painted in all sorts 
 of weather and at every degree of temperature, and he has overcome the difficulties of his profession 
 by the invention of a hut for winter and a tent for summer, so admirably constructed that we long to be 
 with him while he is defying the violence of the storm, and watching through his broad glass window, 
 with quick eye and ready pencil, the tempestuous paonrama before him. . . . Secure of his position, 
 and possessing the literary facility so seldom found in his craft, he has written this book to tell the 
 world, if only it will listen, how noble and serious a profession is Art." — Lippincotfs Magazine. 
 
 A PAINTER'S CAMP. By Philip Gilbert Hamerton. In Three Books. Book I, in England ; 
 
 Book II, In Scotland; Book III, In France. One volume. i6mo. Price $1.50. 
 
 *' They (* A Painter's Camp in the Highlands' and 'Thoughts About Art') are the most useful 
 books that could be placed in the hands of the American art public. If we were asked where the 
 most intelligent, the most trustworthy, the most practical, and the most interesting exposition of mod- 
 ern art and cognate subjects is to be found, we should point to Hamerton's writings." — Atlantic 
 Monthly. 
 
 THE UNKNOWN RIVER: An Etcher's Voyage of Discovery. By Philip Gilbert Hamerton. 
 With thirty-seven etchings by the author. 8vo, cloth, gilt. Price ^6.oo. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ART AND SYMBOLISM. With some Hints on the Study of Landscape. By R. 
 St. John Tyrwhitt. With an Introduction by Ruskin, and Illustrations. One volume. i2mo. 
 Price $2.00. 
 
 By the Author of " Christian Art and Symbolism." 
 OUR SKETCHING CLUB. Letters and Studies on Landscape Art. With an authorized Repro- 
 duction of the Lessons and Woodcuts in Professor Rusk i n' " Elements of Drawing." 8vo. 
 Price $2.50. 
 
 This book is in the form of a narrative, and is the doings of a supposed Sketching Club, their let- 
 ters, talks, and essays on various art subjects, — nearly all practical ones, — such as would be likely to 
 be exchanged between fairly good critics and well educated men and women. It is a handsome 8vo 
 volume, with numerous illustrations. 
 
 THE OLD MASTERS AND THEIR PICTURES. By Sarah Tvtlbr. Author of "Papers 
 
 for Thoughtful Girls." i6mo, cloth. Price #1.50. 
 MODERN PAINTERS AND THEIR PAINTINGS. By Sarah Tytler. Author of " Papers 
 
 for Thoughtful Girls." i6mo, cloth. Price $1.50. 
 
 By the Author ot "The Old Masters" and *' Modern Painters." 
 
 MUSICAL COMPOSERS AND THEIR WORKS. By Sarah Tytler. i6mo. Price ^2.00. 
 " Distinctively gossipy and very entertaining. Lovers of music, who read for entertainment, will 
 
 heartily enjoy these bright and minute sketches of the great composers ; in point of readableness they 
 
 are not surpassed by any similar sketches m recent literature," says The (Boston) Literary ]Vorld. 
 
 THORVALDSEN : His Life and Works. By Eugene Plon. Translated from the French by 
 I. M. Luyster. Illustrated by two Heliotypes fram Steel Engravmgs by F. Gaillard, and 
 Thirty-five of the Master's Qompositions, drawn by F. Gaillard, and engraved on wood by 
 Cabonneau. Second American Edition. One handsome square 8vo volume, cloth, gilt and 
 black lettered, gilt top, bevelled boards. Price ^54.00. 
 
 Our Publications are sold by all booksellers. Mailed^ postpaid^ by the Publishers^ 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. 
 
 (16) 
 
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 i 
 
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TOO 
 
 Date Due, 
 
 MASS- 
 
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