The Press.
London, England, 1856-06-28 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

The author of this work is now no more.
The manuscript has been prepared for the
press by Dr. Jeremie, the Regius Professor of
Divinity, and by the Rev. T. G. Austen, of
West Wickham. The text is carefully sup
ported with references ; and, as a judicial
history of the early struggles of the Christian
Church, we recommend it to the collectors of
a theological library. To eloquence or bril-
liancy it makes no pretensions, and its absence
of all kinds of affectation is not the least of its
merits. It is grave as becomes the subject,
and its solid scholarship is supported by
strong logic. That Christianity is a stubborn
historical fact, that its title-deeds are not
forgeries, that its early witnesses and up-
holders were truthful personages, and that its
marvellous story can in nowise be assimilated
with lying legends of false religions, are the
important conclusions triumphantly estab-
lished in this calmly vigorous performance.

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

(Second Notice.)

WE have said that Mr. Ruskin's third volume
is mainly devoted to the definition of those
principles of art--with abundant literary illus-
tration —of which practical examples are
given in the fourth volume. His examples
are chiefly selected from Turner, because he
conceives that of all painters Turner has, in
his natural style, best understood and best
expressed that truth of Nature which Mr.
Ruskin maintains should be the great aim and
end of Art. But there is this apparent con-
tradiction in the author's teaching. He holds
that drawing should be at once both distinct
and indistinct, minute and mysterious,—that
accuracy of detail cannot be carried too far,
and yet that it must melt into obscurity.
With all his amplitude of explanation, and
subtle refinement, Mr. Ruskin does not com-
pletely reconcile this apparent opposition,
though his principle is intelligible, that ex-
tremes meet, and that the highest finish
resolves itself into cloudiness and mystery.
Chapter ix. in vol iii., on " Finish," should
be read with chap. iv. in vol. iv., on " Turnerian
mystery." In the latter the principle is laid
down—the emphasis of printing is Mr. Rus-
kin's own—that "WE NEVER SEE ANYTHING
CLEARLY." With his usual ingenuity and force
he urges :

The fact is, that every thing we look at, be it large or
small, near or distant, has an equal quantity of mystery in
it; and the only question is, not how much mystery there
is, but at what part of the object mystification begins.
We suppose we see the ground under our feet clearly, but
if we try to number its grains of dust, we shall find that it
is as full of confusion and doubtful form as anything else ;
so that there is literally no point of clear sight, and there
never can be. What we caU seeing a thing clearly, is
only seeing enough of it to make out what it is ; this point
olintelligibility varying in distance for different magnitudes
and kinds of things, while the appointed quantity of mystery
remains nearly the same for all. Thus : throw an open book
and an embroidered handkerchief on a lawn—at a distance of
half a mile we cannot tell which is which; that is the point of
mystery for the whole of those things. They are then
merely white spots of indistinct shape. We approach
them and perceive that one is a book, the other a hand-
kerchief, but cannot read the one nor trace the embroidery
of the other. The mystery has ceased to be in the whole
things, and has gone into their details. We go nearer, and
can now read the text and trace the embroidery, hut cannot
see the fibres of the paper nor the threads of the stuff.
The mystery has gone into a third place. We take both
up, and look closely at them ; we see the water-mark and
the threads, but not the hills and dales in the paper's sur-
face, nor the fine fibres which shoot off from every thread.
The mystery has gone into a fourth place, where it must
stay till we take a microscope, which will send it into a
fifth, sixth, hundredth, or thousandth place, according to
the power we use. When, therefore, we say we see the
book clearly, we mean only that we know it is a book.
When we say that we see the letters clearly, we mean that
we know what letters they are ; and artists feel that they
are drawing objects at a convenient distance when they
are so near them as to know, and to be able in painting to
show that they know, what the objects are in a tolerably
complete manner; but this power does not depend on any
definite distance of the object, but on its size, kind, and
distance together, so that a small thing in the foreground
may he precisely in the same phase or place of mystery as
a large thing far away.
Again :

Everything in the field of sight is equally puzzling, and
can only be drawn rightly on the same difficult conditions.
Try it fairly. Take the rominimest, closest, most familiar
thing, and strive to draw it verily as iou nee it. Be Lire
of this last fact, fix otherwis,, you will find yourself coati-
Dolly dowtng, not what, you see, bo what loft 11.1104 q, T 1

SATURDAY,

beat practice to begin with is. sitting about three yards
from a bookcase (not your own, so that you may know
none of the titles of the books), to try to draw the books
accurately, with the titles on the backs, and patterns on
the bindings as you see them. You are not to stir from
your place to look what they are, but to draw them simply
as they appear, giving the perfect look of neat lettering;
which nevertheless must be (as you will find it on most
of the books) absolutely illegible. Next try to draw a
piece of patterned muslin or lace (of which you do not
know the pattern) a little way of, and rather in the shade,
and be sure you get all the grace and look of the pattern
without going a step nearer to see what it is. Then try CO
draw a bank of grass, with all its blades; or a bush, with
all its loaves ; and you will soon begin to understand under
what a universal law of obscurity we live, and perceive that
all distinct drawing must be bad drawing, and that nothing
can be right till it is unintelligible.— Vol. iv. p. 60, 61.
Yet we read previously, and the emphasis is
marked by Mr. Ruskin himself :

Thus tender in execution, and so complete in detail,
that Leonardo must needs draw every several vein in Me
little agates and pebbles of the gravel under the feet of the
" St. Annp "in the Louvre. Take . . Titian, Tintoret,
Bellini, and Veronese. Examine the vine leaves of the
" Bacchua and Ariadne " (Titian's) in the National
Gallery ; examine the borage blossoms, painted petal by
petal, though lying loose on the table, in Titian's " Supper
at Emmaus " (in the Louvre ), or the snail-shells on the
ground in his " Entombment " ; examine the separately.
designed patterns on every drapery of Veronese in his
" Marriage in Cana "; go to Venice and see how Tintoret
paints the strips of olack bark on the birch trunk that sus-
tains the platform in his Adoration of the Magi " ; how
I3ellini fills the rents of his ruined walls with the most
exquisite clusters cf the erba della Madonna. You will
find them all in a tale. Take . . Francia, Angelico,
l)urer, Hemling, Perugino—and still the witness is one,
still the same striving in all to such utmost perfection as
their knowledge arid hand could reach.— Vol. iii. p. 128.
The candid reader, comparing these passages,
and many like them, will hardly be inclined
to accept Mr. Ruskin's exclamation, " It is all
right," in explanation of their inconsistency.
He writes at large to show in what sense he
understands his principle that " all distinct
" drawing must be bad drawing " :
Pre-Raphaelitism is quite as unintelligible as need be.
Examine your Pre-Raphaelite painting well, and you will
find it is the precise fulfilment of these laws. You can
make out your plaintain-head and your vine, and see
entirely what they are ; but yet they are full of mystery,
and suggest more than you can see. So also with Turner,
the true head of Pre P.aphaelitism. You shall see the
spots of the trout lying dead on the rock in his foreground,
but not count them. It is only the Germans, and the so-
called masters of drawing and defining, that are wrong,
not the Pre-Raphaelites You will find in
Veronese, in Titian, in Tintoret, in Correggio, and in all
the great pdinters, properly so-called, a peculiar melting
and mystery about the pencilling, sometimes called soft-
ness, sometimes freedom, sometimes breadth, but in
reality a most subtle confusion of colours and forms, ob-
tained either by the apparently careless stroke of the
brush, or by careful retouching with tenderest labour; bat
always obtained in one way or another; so that though
when compared with work that has no meaning, all great
work is distinct—compared with work that has narrow and
stubborn meaning, all great work is indistinct; and if we
find, on examining any picture closely, that it is all clearly
to be made out, it cannot be, as painting, first-rate. There
is no exception to this rule. EXCELLENCE OF THE HIGHEST
KIND WITHOUT OESCURITY CANNOT EXIST.

Though it be admitted—as a person intent
on finding the true meaning of Mr Ruskin
will be disposed to admit—that there is no
real opposition in the above passages—that
both principles are true within their proper
limits—yet it must be considered unfortunate
that Mr. Ruskin, while contending for one part
of his case only, is so earnest in his advocacy
that the part is presented to his readers as the
whole. From the chapter on " Finish" few
persons would imagine the very large qualifi-
cations with which in future chapters the
author would wish his conclusions on distinct
or minute painting co be received. When the
whole of Mr. Ruskin's argument is brought
together, we find his meaning to be that a
great painter must know how to represent
what is near as distinct, and what is remote as
obscure or mysterious ; that in both cases
Art should follow Nature, and come as near as
possible to her truth. But, then, if either
principle—the distinct or the obscure—be
taken separately, and represented as a com-
plete truth, confusion inevitably ensues; and
it is open to question whether in both cases
Mr. Ruskin has not pushed the application of
his principle to undue extremity. In the case
of distinctness--for Mr. Ruskin sometimes
dwells on the beauty of iiiierc,seopie painting—
the exaggeration is more perceptible than in
the case of obscurity. There is a point at
which the Obscurity of vision is complete; but
no point at which its distinctness is perfect.
The detyrou of " Yon Eyck, Minn I)ttrer, and

I

rmeminmemmininominimiuminmumpligml

" all the clear early men," seems weak, con
sidering what the author has written in their
praise :

So far as they are quile clear, t'ley are imperfect, and
knowingly imperfect, if considered as painters of real
appearances; but by means of this very imperfection, or
couveßtionalisin, they often give certain facts which are
more necessary to their purpose than these outward ap
pearances.—:v. 63.
That is to say, they resorted to exaggeration
or caricature for the purpose of representing
truths which might otherwise have been un-
observed. We find a defence of this form of

exaggeration elsewhere (iv. 32-3.), but it is
stud that the more unconscious the artist is of
the changes he is making the better. Per-
haps so. Yet the difficulty will always be—
and it is a difficulty which ualive genius only
can overcome—how to mark a truth more dis-
tinctly than it is marked in reality without
disfiguring it.
It, is when Mr. Ruskin gets to the eighth
chapter of his fourth volume, on the " Struc-
• ture of Mountains," that he is most full of
matter. He examines in detail all the pecu-
liarities of mountain character, discriutina-
ting them in their resulting forms of aiguelles,
crests ,precipices, banks, and stones The 220
pages occupied with this dissertation (vol iv.
p. 101 to 324) are by far the most masterly
Mr. Ruskin has ever penned. The whole is
the result of most accurate, diligent, and
original observation of nature. It, is impossi-
ble to read this portion of Mr. Ruskin's book
without profound respect for his ability. His
researches—we may as regards art-aims term
them discoveries—are most skilfully directed
to illustrate the genius of Turner. After
showing how the works of the artist are
interpreted and made beautiful by the most
critical scrutiny of the actual configuration of
mountain forms, in all their cleavages and
urves, he remarks
can well believe that the reader will doubt the possi-
bility of all this being intended by Turner ; and intended
in the ordinary sense it was not. It was simply seen, and
instinctively painted, according to the demand of the
imaginative dream, as the true Griffin wss, and as all
noble things are. But if the reader fancies that the
apparent truth came by mere chance, or that I am imagin-
ing purpose and arrangement where they do not exist, let
him be once for all assured that no man goes through the
kind of work which by this time he must be beginning to
perceive I have gone through either for the sake of deceiv-
ingothers, or with any great likelihood of deceiving himself.
He who desires to deceive the picture-purchasing public
may do so cheaply; and it is easy to bring almost any
kind of art into notice, without climbing Alps or
measuring cleavages. But any one, on the other
hand, who desires to ascertain facts, and will refer
all art directly to nature, for many laborious years,
will not at least find himself an easy prey to groundless
enthusiasms or erroneous fancies. Foolish people are fond
of repeating a story which has gone the full round of the
artistical world—that Turner some day, somewhere, said
to somebody (time, place, or person never being ascertain-
able), that I discovered in his pictures things which he did
himself not know were there. Turner was not a person apt
to say things of this kind; being generally, as respects
all the movements of his own mind, as silent as a granite
crest, and if he ever did say it, was probably laughing at
the person to whom he was speaking. But he might have
said it in the most perfect sincerity; nay I am quite sure that
to a certain extent the case really was as he is reported to have
declared, and that he neither was aware of the value of the
truths he had seized nor understood the nature of the
instinct that combined theca. And yet the truth was
assuredly apprehended, and the instinct assuredly present and
imperative; and any artists who try to imitate the smallest
portion of his work will find that no happy chances will
for them gather together the resemblances of fact, nor
for them mimic the majesty of invention. No happy
chance— nay, no happy thought—no perfect knowledge—
will ever take the place of that mighty unconsciousness. I
have often had to repeat that Turner, in the ordinary sense
of the words, neither knew nor thought so much as other
melt. Whenever his pet *option failed—that is to say with
respect to scientific truths which produced no result pal-
pable to the eye,•—he fell into the frankest errors.

THE PRESS.

case of painting, attempts are made to pierce
the veil which firms the boundary of mind in
one case, of vision in the other; and then pro-
digality of accomplishment, as with wealth of
language or manipulative delicacy, may sport
with the profound it cannot penetrate, and the
throes of baffled effort be mistaken by inferior
minds for the oracles of inspired wisdom.
A great part of this fourth volume is eminently
practical. It shows, not indeed how artists
may become great—for artists are not, accord-
ing to the consolatory theory of Reynolds, to
be made great by tuition—but what studies
lie in the path to greatness. And, more than
anything yet written by Mr. Ruskin, it tends
to stimulate a perception of truth in art, and
to cultivate a taste for the pure ideal.
The work is not yet finished. One more
volume at least is to come, as the author has
to ex..mine the scene►;y of the Firmament.
His mind expands as he proceeds. His
fourth volume is in many respects the most
valuable he has yet issued. It could be wished
that he were less fond of dogmatising,—that
his mind were less vagrant or impulsive than
it is,—that his undoubted eloquence and rare
command of illustration were under the control
of a stricter judgment. Yet, testing the whole
work thus far by its actual results—seeing
what Mr. Ruskin has established—considering
the amazing amount of research and of
thought embodied in these volumes—we are
compelled to regard them among the noblest
productions of this century. Indeed, we know
no single work of the time so well entitled to
be termed great, or more likely to endure.
There is a passage in Schiller's " Carlos," in
which the gloomy Philip expresses his thirst
for truth, and desires above all things to be
aided in the search. Not free from prejudice,
nor without the obstinacy of a passionate
mind, Mr. Ruskin has yet made this idea the
ruling principle of his labours. He has done
much to base the appreciation of art on broad
and intelligible grounds, and to show in what
its highest merit consists.

There are some errors in the fourth volume
worth the author's notice. The examples in
plate 27 are wrongly placed, to the perversion
of the author's meaning.

The Crimean Expedition, to the Capture of Sebas-
topol. By the Baron de Bazancourt.
Translated from the French by R. H. Gould,

laudable reserve, leaving asterisks to comple4
an unfinished sentence, as at the end of his
account of the battle of the Alma :
If the English cavalry, commanded by Lord Lucan, had
nor become bewildered in the marshes of the Alma, they
would have been of immense service at the close of the
battle, and have greatly augmented the number of prisoners
remaining in our hands. "If I had had some cavalry,'
writes the Marshal in his journal, under date of the 20th'
" Prince Menschikoff would no longer have au army
but • a • •
Considerate Baron ! how much is our nation
indebted to you for your kind reserve ! Even
a compliment to the bravery of our soldiers at
Alma is not permitted to pass withoutqualifi-
cation. By "facing every difficulty in flank
" rather than seeking to attack it in flank," our
troops commit
an heroic error, which inscribes glorious names upon the
page of history, but inscribes them upon the records of
the dead
Certainly the English army had given, at the Alma, in.
contestable proofs of singular bravery and of unassailable
firmness in front of the enemy; but it was completely
wanting in trobifile. The 22nd was another lost day.
It is in his allusions to Lord Raglan \that
the author's indiscretion and total absence of
generous feeling are most conspicuous. Pass-
ing over the numerous charges brought against
him of delay and want of vigour, we come to
the main counts in the indictment against
him—his obstinate adherence to his own plan
of operations, in opposition to the instruc-
tions of the Emperor, and the urgent counsels
of General Caniobert. It is astonislung that
the Baron should not have had sense to per-
ceive that in representing Lord Raglan as
insisting upon the Reach expedition, and as
uncompromisingly adverse to any plan of opera-
tions which would have the effect of impairing
the vigorous prosecution of the siege, he does
in effect give to the English commander the
credit of the eventual fall of Sebastopol, and
the honour of finally adhering to his own
judgment in spite of obstacles which few
persons would have had the constancy to
overcome.

Nearly the whole of this paragraph is just.
But Mr. Ruskin should tell us what significa-
tion he attaches to "the imaginative dream,"
and such like phrases which arc of frequent
occurrence with him. The whole of the
elaborate portions of this fourth volume on
mountain aspects is expressly directed to
prove that Turner drew from nature, but with
the very finest perception of natural forms.
When this perception failed, ho fell into the
" frankest errors." What, then, had " ima-
ginative dream" to do with his work" Mr.
Ruskin, of all men, ought not to shrink from
the duly of giving clear shape to his concep-
tions. In all that he says elsewhere on the pro-
foundest intellect losing itself in mystery, we
disagree. The mystery 0011108 when, as In ti4e

It was on the Ist of May that General Can-
robert received positive orders from the Em-
peror to concentrate all his forces to " attack
" the enemy externally." The expedition to
Kertch had sailed the previous day. It, was
recalled, notwithstanding that "Lord Raglan
" strongly insisted that the expedition should
" take its course." In the middle of May the
plan of the Emperor, in which " are strikingly
" displayed the powers of a commanding
" genius," was received by Canrobert. He
pressed its adoption on Lord Raglan, but his
lordship regarded it with decided dislike."
All Canrobert's persuasions were unavailing.
" Two conferences, the first of which lasted
" seven hours, could not vanquish the repug-
" nance cf Lord Raglan." On this, General
Canrobert determined on resignation. He
could not give up the plan of the Emperor;
he could not carry it into effect. He volun-
tarily retired to make way for the more
vigorous genius of General Pelissier. In him
the retiring commander " recognised the rata
" quality of authority of command." The new
commander received directions by telegraph:—
" Conform as closely as possible to the in-
" structions given to General Canrobert."
But Pelissier did not think it expedient to
attempt to carry out those instructions. On
the contrary, his first act of command was to
authorise the departure of the Kertch expedi-
tion, and his next to arrange for the more
earnest prosecution of the siege, to the entire
exclusion of the Emperor's plan of external
attack.
It is the argument of the Baron that only
Lord Raglan's obstinacy prevented this plan
from being carried into effect with the most
brilliant results. Well, a month later, and
Lord Raglan was no more. The French Com-
mander-in-Chief was no longer fettered by
the authority of the English field-marshal
All the reasons in favour of the plan of exter-
nal attack subsisted in full force—were more
strong, indeed, after the unsuccessful assau
of the 18th of June—yet Pelissier made -
movement to give effect to it. Wtl,-
skilful and as timid as Lord Raglan

M.A. Two Vols. London : Sampson Low

and Son.
As we reviewed this work at length on its pub-
lication in Paris, and extracted many of its
important passages, we shall confine our
notice of this English edition to some remarks
on its general character and style.
That the author was most favorably circum-
stanced for writing a complete history of the
expedition is most certain. He was directly
accredited to the French Commander-in Chief
by the Imperial Government, he was received
with open arms by the chief officers of the
army, he was permitted to live, as he states,
" in the very heart of siege," and both at the
time and subsequently he seems to have had
the most confidential documents communi-
cated to him With his materials and oppor-
tunities, nothing was wanting to the produc-
tion of a truly valuable history but ordinary
judgment and fair literary ability. Unfortu-
nately the Baron possesses neither. His book
is little better than a wind-bag. From its
inflation it is positively ridiculous. It can
only be described as history in hysterics. It
is a confused compound of shrieks, exclama-
tions, sobs, tears, and raptures. Its absur-
dity is not its worst point. We can under-
stand that in his allusions to the English
army the author wished to be complimentary,
but there are sonic persons who, from mere
itourderie, make their compliments the reverse
of agreeable, and the Baron is one of them.
We are only surprised that the book, in its
present shape, should ever have received the
sanction of the French Government. _ _

He dwells with great emphasis on the slug
gishness of the English, aid hints that to
this cause may be attributed the failure to
capture Sebastopol by a coup.de main. But,
that our military pride may not be wounded,
he eonietimes manifests what he gowsidera

We must assume either thai
commander was right in his vie
tion to those of the Emperor
or that Pelissior was equally

issier made no
Was he as un-
aglan ?
at the English
iews in opposi-
and Canrobert,
wrong-headed.