Year: 1879

The poet Morris writes to the London
Daily Nea0s::


have just received information, on
the accuracy of which I can rely, that the
restoration of the west front of st.
Marks at Venice, which has long been
vaguely threatened, is to be taken in
hand at once. A commission is called
for next month to examine its state and
to determine whether it is to be pulled
down Immediately OF to be allowed to
stand until next year. The fate of such
a building seems to me subject import
ant enough TO warrant me in asking you
to grant ME space to make an appeal to
your readers to consider what disaster
is threatened hereby to art and culture
in general. Though this marvel of art
and treasure of history has suffer
ed some disgraces, chiefly in the base
mosaics that have supplanted the earlier
ones, it is in the main in genuine and
untouched state, and to the eye of any
one not an expert in building looks safe
enough from anything but malice or 1g-
norance; but anyhow, if it be in any way
unstable, it is impossible to believe that
very moderate exercise of engineering
skill would not make it as sound as any
building of it's age can be. Whatever
pretexts may be put forward. therefore,
the proposal to rebuild it can only come
from those that suppose that they can re-
new and better (by imitation) the work
manship of it's details, hitherto supposed
to be unrivaled; by those that think that
there is nothing distinctive between the
thoughts and expression of the thoughts
of the men of the twelfth and of the
nineteenth centuries; by those that pre-
fer gliding, glitter and blankness to the
solemnity of tone and the incident that
hundreds of years of wind and weather
have given to the marble, always beauti-
full. but from the first meant to grow
more beautiful by the lapse of time; in
short, those only can think the ''restora-
ton" of St. Marks possible, who neither
know nor care that it now has become a
work of art, monument of history and
piece of nature. Surely need not en-
large on the pre-eminence of st. Mark S
in all these characters, for no one who
even pretends to care about art, history
or nature would call it in question; but
I will assert that, strongly as I may have
seemed to express myself, my words but
feebly represent the feelings of large
body of cultivated men who will feel real
grief at the loss that seems imminent
loss which may be slurred over, but
which will not be forgotten, and which
will be felt ever deeper as cultivation
spreads. That the outward aspect of the
world should grow uglier day by day in
spite of the aspirations of civilization,
nay, partly because of it's triumphs, is a
grievous puzzle to some of us who are
not lacking in sympathy for those aspi-
rations and triumphs, artists and crafts
men as we are. So grievous it is that
sometimes we are tempted to say: "Let
them make clean sweep of it all, then;
let us forget it all, and muddle on as best
we may, unencumbered with either his
tory or hope!" But such despair is, we
well know, treason to the cause of CIV
ilization and the arts, and we do our best
to overcome it and to strengthen our
selves in the belief that even small mi
nerity will at last be listened to and its
reasonable opinions be accepted. In this
belief I have troubled you with this let
ter, and call on all those who share it
to join earnestly in any attempt that may
be made to save from an irreparable loss
"a loss which only headlong rashness
could make possible. Surely it can never
be too late to pull down st. Marks at
Venice, the wonder of the civilized
world.