The Press.
London, England, 1856-06-14 00:00:00

JUNE 14, 1856.

from so profound a judge as the Regius
Professor at Cambridge.

Modern Painters. Vols. 111. and IV. By
John Ruskin, A.M. London : Smith and
Elder.

WE are not surprised at the hostility with
which Mr. Ruskin's later publications have
been met. He belongs to what Scott in his
day of pride called the Black Hussars of
Literature. He neither takes nor gives quar-
ter. There is one offence in an author which
critics of a certain order of mind never can
forgive. It is originality of thought. They
resent novelty. as heresy, and are especially
angry when it is presented with the earnest-
ness of conviction. We have more than once
expressed our opinion that a writer is to be
valued, not by freedom from defects (which is
characteristic of mediocrity), but by possession
of positive merits; and tried by this standard,
Mr. Ruskin, with faults and prejudices which
his warmest admirers must admit, will rank
with the most eloquent, thoughtful, and sti-
mulative of modern authors.

His influence on the practice of art has
been greater than ever critic exercised before.
Artists and amateurs decry and wrestle with
him, but the rising art-world yields to his
st,ream of ideas, and suffers itself to be im-
pressed with the principles he contends for.
It is not to be doubted that on the whole his
influence has been eminently beneficial. He
is the resolute opponent of sham in every
kind in art. He contends for truth with all
the energy of his impetuous genius ; and
though, from the impulsive character of his
intellect,—singularly liable to be mastered and
led astray by the vivid nature of his own con-
ceptions,—this one cardinal principle of his
teaching is occasionally lost sight of, it is im-
possible not to admire the ardour with which
he clings to it, nor the intellectual resource,
the lovely imagery, the infinite variety of
illustration, and the heated eloquence which
he employs to display and to recommend its
beauties.

His mind is so full and so ingenious that his
works, independent of their criticism on art,
are a delightful exercise for the imagination.
He is never dull, never cold. His faculties
seem always at a white heat, and throw out
brilliant sparks in inexhaustible profusion ;
but these sparkles have more than a momen-
tary lustre. They will bear examination ;
their radiance is Tasting; and not a few of
them, as the works of the author become
more generally diffused, will sink into the
thoughts of the people and become incorpo-
rated with their tongue. Before proceeding,
let us give a few examples which we are sure
many of our readers will appreciate :--

THE

R E S S.

h done. It may be that, as with Dante and Leonardo, the
finish given to the work daces the evidence of ease, but
where the ease is manifest, as in Scott, Turner, and Tin-
toret, and the thing done is very noble, it is a strong reason
for placing the men above those who confessedly work with
great pains. Scott writing his chapter or two before break-
fast,—not retouching; Turner finishing a whole drawing
in a forenoon before he goes out to shoot ( providing
always the chapter and the drawing be good), are instantly
to be set above men who confessedly have spent the day
over the work, and think the hours well spent if it has
been a little mended between sunrise and sunset. Indeed
it is no use for men to think to appear great by walking
fast, dashing, and scrawling ; the thing they do must be
good and great, cost what time it may ; but if it be so, and
they have honestly and unaffectedly done it with no effort,
it is probably a greater and better thing than the result of
the hardest efforts of others.

The chapter from which these passages aro
taken (chap. xvi. vol. 3.), contains some of the
finest criticism we have met with on modern
authors. The characteristics of Scott are
delineated with masterly skill ; the sceptical
tendencies ascribed to him, however, may
perhaps be detected in Shakespeare in an
equal degree. He saw clearly what was with-
out himself; but what was he ? In minds of
very large sympathies, intensity of belief, or
devotion to one passion or idea, can rarely
exist. Their faith takes the form, not of
creeds, but of aspiration. Such minds may
lose in individual consistence and character
m hat they gain in power and freedom of range,
as the most subtle pervading elements of
nature are themselves destitute of substance
and colour. Mr. Ruskin will readily under-
stand us if we name Turner.

His third volume, rightly headed " Many
Things," is devoted, if we rightly apprehend
its meaning, to define and illustrate those
principles of painting of which the fourth
volume presents us with specific instances.
An inquiry is first instituted—What is the
great style in art? And the answer, returned
with all the amplitude of illustration which
Mr. Ruskin has at his command, is :
That the difference between great and mean art lies, not
in definable methods of handling, or styles of represents.
tion, or choices of subjects, but wholly in the nobleness of
the end to which the effort of the painter is addressed.
But to understand this definition it is to be
read by the light of the commentary and with
all the qualifications attached to it in chapters
i. ii. and iii. Then Mr. Ruskin, with his search-
ing and scathing tests, dives into the depths of
the false ideal, showing how it lacks in
its forms the first element of vitality, truth,
and afterwards rises to an examination of the
true ideal. The " naturalist ideal " is the
style which he determines as worthy of the
highest admiration—natural because real, or
studied from nature, and ideal because com-
bined or arranged in a certain manner by the
powers of the imagination. Here is his main
principle :

All the great men see what they paint before they paint
it--see it in a perfectly passive manner--cannot help
seeing it if they would ; whether in their mind's eye, or
in bodily fact, does not matter ; very often the mental
vision is, I believe, in men of imagination clearer than the
bodily one ; but vision it is of one kind or another; the
whole scene, character, or incident passing before them as
in second sight, whether they will or no, and requiring
them to paint it as they see it, they not daring, under the
might of its presence, to alter one jot or tittle of it as they
write it down or paint it down ; it being to them in its own
kind and degree always a true vision or apocalypse, and
invariably accompanied in their hearts by a feeling corre-
spondent to the words, " Write the things which thou host
seen, and the things which are."
And the whole power whether of painter or poet, to de-
scribe rightly what we call au ideal thing, depends upon
its being thus to him not an ideal but a real thing. No
man ever did or ever will work well, but either from actual
sight or sight of faith ; and all that we call ideal in Greek
or any other art, because to us it is false and visionary,
wan to the makers of it true and existent. The heroes of
Phidias are simply representations of such noble human
persona as he every day saw, and the gods of Phidias
simply representations cf such noble divine persons as he
thoroughly believed to exist, and did in mental vision truly
behold. Hence I said in the second preface to the " Seven
Lamps of Architecture," " All great art represents some-
thing that it sees or believes in; nothing unseen or un-
credited."
Is Mr. Ruskin himself quite clear as to the mean-
ing of the above passage? What does he under-
stand by mental vision ? Is he afraid to carry
out his principle of reality to its legitimate
extent? The fear is unworthy of him. His
" mental vision " can be, according to the
whole scope of his philosophy, and according
to truth, only the mind acting on the impres-
sions it has received from nature, and exagge-
rating those proportions which are character-
istic of peculiar properties or principles. The

•.

gods of Phidias are but the heroes of Phidias,
magnified in those qualities in which the
heroes were superior to ordinary men ; and to
comprehend how far this may be done, so as to
elevate without caricaturing common forms of
nature, belongs to the rarest and finest facul-
ties of imaginative power• The subject is
cleverly discussed in "Haydon's Lectures," and
the broad principle indisputably established.
Into caricature the Greeks themselves often
ran in their efforts to be ideal.

In the natural style, truth, the author con-
tends, can never be vulgar :

There is never vulgarity in a whole truth, however com-
monplace. it may be unimportant or painful. It cannot
be vulo.r. Vulgarity is only in concealment of truth or
affectation.

That is to say, we conceive that there may
be vulgarity in fact, which is a partial kind of
truth, but not in the truth which universalises
facts of a class. The author proceeds to
show that a great artist works, and is com-
pelled to work, according to the conditions
and perceptions of his being. This kind of
unconsciousness, which in a bee we term in-
stinct, the author insists on calling " inspira-
tion" in intellect. The term is only eo far
objectionable, as it leaves no single word
applicable to Divine-inspiration. But the
compound will do. The whole chapter (vii.),
full of collateral anecdote and art illustration,
is eminently instructive.
The chapter (ix.) on " Finish " is a mas-
tarly essay of itself. Finish in art he defines
to be not great delicacy, not more polish,
according to what we suppose would be East-
lake's definition, but—the hand of the master
is here—in the addition of truth. His plates in
this chapter are most convincing examples of
his principles. He remarks on one of his.i
instances : 4

This piece of work is more finished than any of the _
others, nut because it is more delicate or more skilful, but
siinply it tells more truth and admits fewer fallacies. That
which conveys most information with least inaccuracy is
always the highest finish Follow that beauty
[the beauty of nature] as far as you can, remembering
that just as far as you see, know, and represent it, just so
far your work is finished ; as far as you fall short of it, your
work is unfinished, and as far as you substitute any other
thing for it, your work is spoiled.
Again :

No truly great man can be named in the arts,—but it is
that of one who finished to the utmost. Take Leonardo,
Michael Angelo, and Raphael for a kind to begin with.
They all completed their detail with such subtlety of touch ,
and gradation, that in a careful drawing by any of the
three you cannot see where the pencil ceased to touch the
paper ; the stroke of it is so tender, that when you look
close to the drawing you can see nothing ; you only see the
effect of it a little way back! Thus tender in execution,
and so complete in detail, that Leonardo must needs draw
every several vein in the little agates and pebbles of the
gravel under the feet of the St. Anne in the Louvre.
On this very minute execution we shall here-
after have something to say. In this chapter
there are some exquisitely skilful illustrations
of Turner's "finish." They cannot be studied
too attentively.
The succeeding chapters of the volume are
mainly occupied with the definition of princi-
ples, very important to the due comprehen-
sion of the author's whole scheme, and most
enticing from their profusion of literary exam-
ple ; but we cannot hope in our bare sketch
to follow the broad yet subtle and variegated
current of Mr. Ruskin's ideas. We quote but
one more passage illustrative of the polestar
of his teaching :

If we now take final and full view of
find that the love of nature, wherever
been a faithful and sacred element of '

is to say, supposing all circumstances
with respect to two individuals, the one
most will be always found to have more

the other.

We had intended to confink
on these truly noble voluine
article. But we have a few
notice which would extend it

therefore beg leave to contin
next week.

Sermons in Stones; or, Scripture
Geology. By Dominick M'CY
don : Bentley.

No one will contend, we suppose,
tific research should in any wa'
through fear that it should

adverse to biblical record. Tli
the collection and arrangement

ir

• • , . .
• • ..• .
• _
JUNE 14, 1856. THE PRESS. 569
..'
L......- .........................._.
from so profound a judge as the Regius is done. It may be that, as with Dante and Leonardo, the gods of Phidias are b'it the heroes of Phidias,
Professor at Cambridge. finish given to the work effaces the evidence of ease, but magnified in those qualities in which the
where the ease is manifest, as in Scott, Turner, and Tin-
_
toret, atd the thing done is very noble, it is a strong reason heroes were superior to ordinary men ; and to
Modern Painters. Vols. 111. and IV. By for placing thse men ave those who confessedly work with comprehend how far this may be done, so RS to
John Ruskin, A.M. London: Smith and Leta t pnaoi
fast,—not
s.
retouching;cot t writing4ttrh
Turner
se
rchapterfinishing or t waowbefore brea k. - elevate without caricaturing common forms of
belongs to the rarest and finest &cut-
Elder. in a forenoon before he goes out toshoot (providingg nature,-
always the chapter and the drawing be good), are instantly ties of imaginative power. The subject is
WE are not surprised at the hostility with to be set above men who confessedly have spent the day cleverly discussed in "Haydon's Lectures," and
which Mr. Ruskin's later publications have over the work, and think the hours well spent if it has the broad principle indisputably established.
been a little mended between sunrise and sunset. Indeed
been met. He belongs to what Scott in his Into caricature the Greeks themselves often
it is no uhse for men to think to appear great by walking ran in their efforts to be ideal.
day of pride called the Black Hussars of
ast, as ing, and scrawling ; the thing they do must be
Literature. He neither takes nor gives quer- In the natural style, truth, the author con-
good and great, cast what time it may • but if it be so and
see. There is one offence in an author which they have honestly and unaffectedly done' it with no effort, tends, can never be vulgar :
critics of a certain order of mind never can it is probably a greater and better thing than the result of There is never vulgarity in a whole truth, however corn-
the hardest efforts of others.
forgive. It is originality of thought. They monplace. it may be unimportant or painful. It cannot
resent novelty as heresy, and are especially The chapter from which these passages aro be vulgar. Vulgarity is only in concealment of truth or
angry when it is presented with the earnest- taken (chap. xvi. vol. 3.), contains some of the affectation.
ness of conviction. We have more than once finest criticism we have met with on modern That is to say, we conceive that there may
expressed our opinion that a writer is to be authors. The characteristics of Scott are be vulgarity in fact, which is a partial kind of
valued, not by freedom from defects (which is delineated with masterly skill ; the sceptical truth, but not in the truth which universalises
characteristic of mediocrity), but by possession tendencies ascribed to him, however, may facts of a class. The author proceeds to
of positive merits; and tried by this standard, perhaps be detected in Shakespeare in an show that a great artist works, and is com-
Mr. Ruskin, with faults and prejudices which equal degree. He saw clearly what was with-
pelled to work, according to the conditions
his warmest admirers must admit, will rank out himself ; but what was he ? In minds of and perceptions of his being. This kind of
with the most eloquent, thoughtful, and sti- very large sympathies, intensity of belief, or unconsciousness, which in a bee we term in-
mulative of modern authors. devotion to one passion or idea, can rarely stinct, the author insists on calling " inspira-
His influence on the practice of art has exist. Their faith takes the form, not of tion "in intellect. The term is only so far
been greater than ever critic exercised before. creeds, but of aspiration. Such minds may objectionable, as it leaves no single word
Artists and amateurs decry and wrestle with lose in individual consistence and character applicable to Divine-inspiration. But the
him, but the rising art-world yields to his m hat they gain in power and freedom of range, compound will do. The whole chapter (vii.),
stream of ideas, and suffers itself to be ims as the most subtle pervading elements of full of collateral anecdote and art illustration,
pressed with the principles he contends for. nature are themselves destitute of substance is eminently instructive.
It is not to be doubted that on the whole his and colour. Mr. Ruskin will readily under- The chapter (ix.) on " Finish "is a mas-
influence has been eminently beneficial. He stand us if we name Turner. tarly essay of itself. Finish in art he defines
is the resolute opponent of sham in every His third volume, rightly headed " Many to be not great delicacy, not more polish,
kind in art. He contends for truth with all Things," is devoted, if we rightly apprehend according to what we suppose would be East- . \‘.
the energy of his impetuous genius ; and its meaning, to define and illustrate those lake's definition, but—the hand of the master
it
though, from the impulsive character of his principles of painting of which the fourth is here—in the addition of truth. His plates in
intellect,—singularly liable to be mastered and volume presents us with specific instances. this chapter are most convincing examples of i
led astray by the vivid nature of his own con- An inquiry is first instituted—What is the his principles. He remarks on one of his.;
(
ceptions,—this one cardinal principle of his great style in art? And the answer, returned instances : 4
teaching is occasionally lost sight of, it is im- with all the amplitude of illustration which This piece of work is more finished than any of the _
possible not to admire the ardour with which Mr. Ruskin has at his command, is : others, nut because it is more delicate or more skilful, but
)
he clings to it, nor the intellectual resource, That the difference between great and mean art lies, not stlitzttohnnanadtdoandniwitatthfewleeaer
tfatlulaaceoiesura. That.
Yittells more
et
j•
the lovely imagery, the infinite variety of in definable methods of handling, or styles of represents-
awlways the conveys
ighest finish Follow that beauty
lion, or choices of subjects, but wholly in the nobleness of
illustration, and the heated eloquence which [the beauty of nature] as far as you can, remembering
the end to which the effort of the painter is addressed.
Ii
that just as far as you see, know, and represent it, just so he employs to display and to recommend its
But to understand this definition it is to be far your work is finished; as far as you fall short of it, your
beauties.
read by the light of the commentary and with work is unfinished, and as far as you substitute any other l
His mind is so full and so ingenious that his
all the qualifications attached to it in chapters thing for it, your work is spoiled.
works, independent of their criticism on art,
i. ii. and iii. Then Mr. Ruskin, with his search- Again :
are a delightful exercise for the imagination.
He is never dull, never cold. His faculties
ing and scathing tests, dives into the depths of No truly great man can be named in the arts,—bat it is
the false ideal, showing how it lacks in that of one who finished to the utmost. Take Leonardo,
seem always at a white heat, and throw out
its forms the first element of vitality, truth, Michael Angelo, and Raphael for a kind to begin with.
brilliant sparks in inexhaustible profusion ;
and afterwards rises to an examination of the
but these sparkles have more than a momen- and gradation, that in a careful drawing by any of the
true ideal. The " naturalist ideal " is the
tart' lustre. They will bear examination ; three you cannot see where the pencil ceased to touch the'
their radiance is lasting; and not a few of style which he determines as worthy of the paper; the stroke of it is so tender, that when you look
them as the works of the author become highest admiration—natural because real, or close to the drawing you can see nothing ; you only see the
,
studied from nature, and ideal because corn- effect of it a little way back! Thus tender in execution,
more generally diffused, will sink into the .. and so complete in detail, that Leonardo must needs draw
biped or arranged in a certain manner by the
thoughts of the people and become incorpo- every several vein in the little agates and pebbles of the
powers of the imagination. Here is his main I
rated with their tongue. Before proceeding, gravel under the feet of the St. Anne in the Louvre.
:
let us give a few examples which we are sure principle On this very minute execution we shall here-
manyAll the great men see what they paint before they paint
of our readers will appreciate :-- after have something to say. In this chapter
it—see it in a perfectly passive manner—cannot help there are some exquisitely skilful illustrations
DECLINE OF MIRTH. seeing it if they would ; whether in their mind's eye, or
On the whole, these are much sadder ages than the in bodily fact, does not matter ; very often the mental of Turner's " finish.' They cannot be studied
early ones ; not sadder in a noble and deep way, but in a vision is, I believe, in men of imagination clearer than the too attentively.
deep wearied way—the way of ennui, and jaded intellect, bodily one ; but vision it is of one kind or another; the The succeeding chapters of the volume are
and uncomfortableness of soul and body. The Middle whole scene, character, or incident passing before them as mainly occupied with the definition of princi- '
Ages had their wars and agonies, but also intense delights. in second sight, whether they will or no, and requiring plea,• very important to the due comprehen-
Their gold was dashed with blood, but ours is sprinkled them to paint it as they see it, they not daring, under the
with dust. The life was inwoven with white and purple ; might of its presence, to alter one jot or tittle of it as they sion of the author's whole scheme, and most
ours is one seamless stuff of brown. Not that we are write it down or paint it down; it being to them in its own enticing from their profusion of literary exam-
without apparent festivity, but festivity more or less forced, kind and degree always a true vision or apocalypse, and plc ; but we cannot hope in our bare sketch
mistaken, embittered, incomplete—not of the heart. How invariably accompanied in their hearts by a feeling COrre• to follow the broad yet subtle and variegated
wonderfully since Shakespeare's time hare we lost the power snondent to the words, "write the things which thou has, current of Mr. Ruskin's ideas. We quote but
laughing at bad jests. The very finish of our wit belies seen, and the things which are."
our gaiety. And the whole power whether of painter or poet, to de- one more passage illustrative of the polestar
HUMILITY ONE SIGN OF GREATNESS. scribe rightly what we call au ideal thing, depends upon of his teaching :
I believe the first test of a truly great man is his hu- its being thus to him not an ideal but a real thing. No If we now take final and full view of the matter we shall
niility. Ido not mean by humility doubt of his own power man ever did or ever will work well, but either from actual find that the love of nature, wherever it has existed, bas
or hesitation in speaking his opinions ; but a right under- sight or sight of faith; and all that we call ideal in Greek been a faithful and sacred element of human feeling; that
standing of the relation between what he can do and say, or any other art, because to us it is false and visionary, is to say, supposing all circumstances otherwise the same
and the rest of the world's sayings and doings. All great wan to the makers of it true and existent. The heroes of with respect to two individuals, the one who loves nature
men not only know their business, but usually know that Phidias are simply representations of such noble human most will be always found to have more faith in God than
they know it ; and are not only right in their main opinions, persons as he every day saw, and the gods of Phidias the other.
but
they usually know that they are right in them ; only simply representations cf such noble divine persons as he We had intended to confine our remarks
they do not think much of themselves on that account. thoroughly believed to exist, and did in mental vision truly on these truly noble volumes to a single
Arnolfo knows that he can build a good dome at Florence ; behold. Hence I said in the second preface to the " Seven
Albert Durer writes calmly to one who had found fault Lamps of Architecture," " All great art represents some-
article. But we have a few points yet to
with his work, "It cannot be better done ; " Sir Isaac thing that it sees or believes in; nothing unseen or un- notice which would extend it too far; and we
Newton knows that he has worked out a problem or two credited." therefore beg leave to continue the subject
that would have puzzled anyone else; only they do not Is Mr. Ruskin himself quite clear as to the mean- next week.
texpect their fellow-men theretore to fall down and worship ing of the above passage? What does he under-
them
em ; they have a curious undersense of powerlessness,
is in but
feeling that the greatness not them through them ;
out his principle of reality to its legitimate
Viet they could not do or be anything else than God made Geology. By Dominick M`Causland. Lon.
them. And they see something divine and God•made in extent? The fear is unworthy of him. His
don : Bentley.
every other man they meet, and are endlessly, foolishly, " mental vision" can be, according to the
incredibly merciful The slightest manifes• whole scope of his philosophy, and according No one will contend, we suppose, that scien-
tation of jealousy or self complacency is enough to mark a to truth, only the mind acting on the impress tific research should in any way be fettered
second-rate character of the intellect. sione it has received from nature, and exagge- through fear that it should disclose results
EASE IN WORK A MARK OF SUPERIORITY.
Another very important, though not infallible, test of rating those proportions which are character- adverse to biblical record. The geologist in
greatness is the appearance of ease with which the thing is tic of peculiar properties or principles. The the collection and arrangement of facts, and

f the matter we shall
it has existed, bee
human feeling; that
s otherwise the same
e who loves nature
la./4A in God than
le our remarks
es to a single
v points yet to
too far; and we
'me the subject
re Confirmed by
Dausland. Lon.
ose, that scien-
way be fettered
disclose results
rhe geologist in
nt of facts, and