favour of white marble? But Mr Lloyd, in his note on this passage, with respect to Socrates (vide "Apology"), admits that it is no evidence of the colouring the flesh. "The passage is decisive, as far as it goes, but it does not touch the question of colouring the flesh. It proves that as late as Plato's time it was usual to apply colour to the eyes of statues; and assuming, what is not stated, that marble statues are in question, we are brought to the same point as by the Eginetan marbles, of which the eyes, lips, portions of the armour and draperies, were found coloured. I forget whether the hair was found to be coloured, but the absence of traces of colour on the flesh, while they were abundant elsewhere, indicates that, if coloured at all, it must have been by a different and more perishable process-by a tint, or stain, or varnish. The Æginetan statues, being archaic, do not give an absolute rule for those of Phidias. The archaic Athenian bas-relief of a warrior, in excellent preservation, shows vivid colours on drapery and ornaments of armour, and the eyeballs were also coloured: here again there is no trace of colour on the flesh." But notwithstanding that no statue has been found with any trace of colour in the flesh, and not satisfied with Mr Lloyd's commentary, Mr Owen Jones seeks proof and confirmation of the sense of the quotation from Plato, in a caution given by Plutarch, thus mistranslated: "It is necessary to be very careful of statues, otherwise the vermilion with which the ancient statues were coloured will quickly disappear." What kind of care is necessary? Plutarch uses the word γάνωσις, which means more than care-that a polishing or varnishing is necessary (if, as we may presume, they would preserve the old colouring of an archaic statue), because, not perhaps of the quick fading of the vermilion, as translated by Mr

Lloyd, but the vermilion eέavßeî— effloresces; or, as we should say, comes up dry to the surface, leaving the vehicle with which it was put on. However, let the passage have all the meaning Mr Owen Jones can desire, it relates only to certain sacred figures at Rome, not in Greece, and which may have been, for anything that is known to the contrary, figures of sacred geese. How do these quotations show the practice of Phidias? In the first place, Plato, who narrates what Socrates said, was nearly a century after Phidias, and Plutarch nearly six hundred years after Phidias. On every account the authority of Plato would be preferable to that of Plutarch, who kept his school at Rome, and was far more fond of raising questions than of affording accurate information.* Mr Owen Jones, however, in the impetuosity of his imaginary triumph, outruns all his given authorities to authorities not given. He says: "There are abundant notices extant which illustrate it (the painting of statues). One will suffice. The celebrated marble statue of a Bacchante by Scopas is described as holding, in lieu of the Thyrsus, a dead roebuck, which is cut open, and the marble represents living flesh." We willingly excuse the blunder of the living flesh of a dead roebuck, ascribing it solely to the impetuosity of the genius of Mr Owen Jones, which, plunging into colouring matter, would vermilionise the palest face of Death. If paint could "create a soul under the ribs of death," he would do it. He must greatly admire the old lady's dying request to

"Put on this cheek a little red, One surely would not look a fright when dead."

We know not where to lay our hand upon the original account of this statue of the Bacchante of Scopas; but if it says no more than the

Apologist says for it-that the marble represented living flesh "-it does not necessarily imply colour. Here is a contradiction: if it be meant that by "living flesh" the colour of living flesh was represented-for that must be the argument-there must have been an attempt towards the exact imitation of nature. "In the first place," says Mr Owen Jones, arguing against the suggestion of coloured and veined marble having been used, "veins do not so run in marble as to represent flesh. In the second, unless statues were usually coloured, such veins, if they existed, would be regarded as terrible blemishes, and the very things the Greeks are supposed to have avoided-viz., colour as representing reality-would be shown." Does Mr Owen Jones here admit that this exact imitation by colour was not usual? If so, as the words imply, what becomes of his quotation of the words of Socrates with regard to colouring the eyes? And further, upon what new plea will he justify his colouring the Parthenon frieze-not only the men and their cloaks, but the horses-so that the latter exactly resemble those on the roundabouts on which children ride at fairs? We suppose he meant the men to have a natural colour, and the horses also-a taste so vile, that we are quite sure such a perpetration would have shocked Phidias out of all patience. And if not meant for the exact colour, what can he suppose they were painted for?-as, to avoid this semblance of reality, the Greeks, according to him, should have painted men and horses vermilion or blue, or any colour the farthest from reality, the contrary to the practice of Mr Owen Jones-and that he should have painted them vermilion he immediately shows, by quoting Pausanias, where he describes a statue of Bacchus 66 having all those portions not hidden by draperies painted vermilion, the body being of gilded wood." What has this to do with marble statues? But he seems not to understand the hint given by his commentator, Mr Lloyd, "that the statue was apparently ithyphallic, and probably archaic"- -a well-known peculiarity in statues of Bacchus. Not having,

as

however, such a specimen in marble, he is particularly glad to find one of gypsum, "ornamented with paint:" nothing more probable, and for the same reason that the wooden one was painted vermilion.

"But colour was used, as we know," says Mr Owen Jones; "and Pausanias (Arcad., lib. viii. cap. 39) describes a statue of Bacchus as having all those portions not hidden by draperies painted vermilion, the body being of gilded wood. He also distinctly says that statues made of gypsum were painted, describing a statue of Bacchus you nemocnuevov, which was-the language is explicitornamented with paint, (ETIKEкoσμnμeνον γραφῃ.)” These are statues of Bacchus, and, as the Apologist is reminded by his commentator, Mr Lloyd, "apparently ithyphallic," and therefore painted red. The draperies are the assumption of the writer; he should have said ivy and laurel. Mr Owen Jones, to render his examples " abundant," writes statues in the latter part of the quotation, whereas the word in his authority, Pausanias, is singular. We stay not to inquire if ypan here means paint, though, speaking of another statue, Pausanias uses the verb and its congenial noun in another sense-"éniуpaμμa éñävtî ypaþîvai.” We the more readily grant it was painted vermilion, because it was a Bacchic statue; and grant that it was seen by Pausanias. We daresay it was ancient enough; but for any proof we must not look to Pausanias, who lived at Rome 170th year of the Christian era;-and here it must be borne in mind, that of the innumerable statues spoken of by that writer, of marble and other materials, the supposed painted are a very few exceptions. Not only does he speak of marble, without any mention of colouring, but of its whiteness. In this matter, indeed, the exceptions prove the rule of the contrary. Before we proceed to the examples taken from Virgilweak enough-let us see if there may not be found something nearer the time of Phidias than any authorities given. Well, then, we have an eyewitness, one who must not only have seen the statues of Phidias, but probably conversed with Phidias him

.

self-Eschylus. If such statues as he speaks of were painted generally, and as a necessary part of their completion, could he have brought into poetic use and sentiment their vacancy of eyes? It is a remarkable passage. He is describing Menelaus in his gallery full of the large statues of Helen. It is in the "Agamemnon:"

Ενμόρφων γὰρ κολοσσῶν
Εχθεται χάρις ἀνδρί.
Ομμάτων δ' ἐν ἀχηνίαις
Εῤῥει πᾶσ' 'Αφροδίτα.

There was 66 no speculation in those eyes." The eyes were not painted certainly; as the poet saw the statues in his mind's eye, so had he seen them with his visible organs. The charm of love was not in them, because the outward form of the eye was only represented in the marble. The love-charm was not in those "vacancies of eyes." Schütz has this note upon the passage: "Quamvis nimirum eleganter fabricatæ sint statuæ, carent tamen oculis, adeoque admirationem quidem excitare possunt amorem non item."

These lines of the poet Eschylus, repeated before an acute and critical Athenian audience, would have been unintelligible, and marked as an egregious blunder, if the practice of painting statues, or even their eyes alone, had been so universal as it is represented in this "Apology." Can there be a more decisive authority, than this of the contemporary Eschylus? It is certainly a descent from Eschylus to Virgil; but we follow the apologist.

"Marmoreusque tibi, Dea, versicoloribus alis

In morem pictâ stabit Amor pharetrâ."

judice in favour of marble, for "Amor" shall be marble-that is the first word, and first consideration. In the next quotation Virgil, as provokingly, sets his heart upon marble-nay, smooth polished marble-and the whole figure is to be entirely of this smooth marble; but he gratifies Mr Jones by "scarlet" -the colour of colours, vermilionand thus so reconciles the Polychromatist to the marble, as to induce him to quote the really worthless passage:

"Si proprium hoc fuerit, levi de marmore tota

Puniceo stabis suras evincta cothurno." It is not of much moment to the main question what statue one clown should offer to Diana, in return for a day's hunting, or the other to a very different and far less respectable deity, whom he has already made in vulgar marble, pro temp. only, and whom he promises to set up in gold, though simply the "custos pauperis horti."

"Nunc te marmoreum pro tempore fecimus; at tu

Si fætura gregem suppleverit, aureus esto." The poetical promises exceeded the clown's means; neither Diana, nor the deity, odious to her, saw the promises fulfilled. The Apologist is merely taking advantage of a poetical license, a plenary indulgence in nonperformance. It is quite ridiculous to attempt to prove what Phidias and Praxiteles must have done, by what Virgil imagined. But as Mr Owen Jones delights in such quasi modern authorities, we venture to remind him of the bad taste of Horace, who loved the Parian marble; and to recommend him to consider in what manner white marble is spoken of by as good authority, Juvenal, who introduces it as most valued in his time-white statues.

"Et jam accurrit, qui marmora donet
Conferat impersas. Hic nuda et candida
signa,

Hic aliquid præclarum Euphranoris et
Polycleti."

It may be as well to quote also what he says in reference to waxing statues :

"Propter quæ fas est genua incerare Deo

rum.'

sueverant Deorum simulacra cera illinire (the old word of dispute) ibidemque affert illud Prudentii, líb. i., contra Symonachum,

Saxa illita ceris

And in Sat. XII., "Simulacra intentia cerâ."

We have already treated of this custom of waxing the statues, and given the recipe of Pliny, to which we revert for a moment, because the advocates for the colouring theory insist that illitia, linita, illinere, linire, all of one origin, are words applicable to painting. Pliny says,-we quote from Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, — after showing how the wax should be melted and laid on, "It was then rubbed with a clean linen cloth, in the way that nuked marble statues were done." The Latin is-" Sicut et marmora nitescunt." The writer in the Dictionary speaks as to the various application of the encaustic process, to paint and to polish: "Wax thus purified was mixed with all species of colours, and prepared for painting; but it was applied also to many other uses, as polishing statues, walls, &c."

Lucian, who died ninety years of age, 180th of the Christian era, although he relinquished the employment of a statuary, and followed that of literature, had certainly an excellent taste in art. His descriptions of statues and pictures prove his fondness and his knowledge. What he says of the famous Cnidian Venus of Praxiteles is very remarkable. After admiring the whiteness of the marble and its polish, he praises the ingenuity of the artificer, in so contriving the statue as to bring least in sight a blemish in the marble, (a very common thing, he adds). It would not have required this ingenuity in the design, if Praxiteles had intended his statue to be painted, for the paint would have covered the stain in the marble wherever placed. We may learn something more from Lucian. In his "Images," wishing to describe a perfect woman, he will first represent her by the finest statues in the world, selecting the beauties of each. It is in a dialogue with Lycinus and Poly

painters. Enough is not done yet; there is the mind to be added. He therefore calls in the poets. Here, then, we have statuary, painter, and poet, each by their separate art to portray this perfect woman. He does not describe by painted statues, but by pictures. Had painting statues been universal, as pretended, Lucian must have seen examples, and his reference to pictures would have been unnecessary. If it be argued that the paint had worn off, that argument will tell against the Polychromatists, for it at least will show that, in an age when statues were esteemed, the barbarity of colouring was not renewed.

In his "Description of a House," he says, "Over against the door, upon the wall, there is the Temple of Minerva in relief, where you may see the goddess in white marble, without her accoutrements of war." The painter, it may be fairly conjectured, painted inside on the wall of the house, the common aspect, and the white marble statue.

In his "Baths of Hippias," he mentions "two noble pieces of antiquity in marble of Health and Æsculapius." Nor does he omit noticing paint, and that vermilion-but where is it? "Then you come to a hot passage of Numidian stone, that brings you to the last apartment, glittering with a bright vermilion, bordering on purple."

According to Mr Owen Jones's theory, all these exquisite works in white marble are to be considered as unfinished; if they have not been handed over to the painter, they should be now. Why did Phidias and Praxiteles so elaborate to the mark of truth their performances? The reader will be astonished to learn the reason from Mr Owen Jones. It was from the necessity of the subsequent finish by paints!

"People are apt to argue that Phidias never could have taken such pains to study the light and shade of this bas-relief, if the fineness of his work

manship had had to be stopped up when bedaubed with paint." It is astonishing that not a glimmering of common sense was here let in upon the work of Phidias, while the whole light of his understanding showed the effect of his own handiwork on the plaster; for he, in that case, says, "But when the plaster has further to be painted with four coats of oil-paint to stop the suction, it may readily be imagined how much the more delicate modulations of the surface will suffer." Does he suppose that the eyes of Phidias, and of people in that age, were blind to the suffering of these nice modulations from the stucco, or over-coats of paint? But why did Phidias so finish his works?-hear the polychromatic oracle "Now, people who argue thus have never understood what colour does when applied to form. The very fact that colour has to be applied, demands the highest finish in the form beneath. By more visibly bringing out the form, it makes all defects more prominent. Let any one compare the muscles of the figures in white with the muscles of those coloured, and he will not hesitate an instant to admit this truth. The labours of Phidias, had they never received colour, would have been thrown away; it was because he designed them to receive colour, that such an elaboration of the surface was required." This is the most consider able inconsiderate nonsense imaginable. Common sense says, that one even colour, or absence of colour, gives equal shadows, according to the sculptor's design; but if you colour portions of the same work differently, the unity of shadows will be destroyed, for shadows will assimilate themselves to the various colourings, be they light or dark. This necessity of colouring would impose such a task upon the sculptor, so complicate his work and design, and so bring his whole mind into subservience to, or certainly cooperation and consultation with, the painter, that no man of genius could submit to it; for it is the characteristic of genius to have its exercise in its own independent art. The assertion of this effect of colour, by Mr Jones, is untrue in fact, and if he could make it true, would so complicate, and at the same time degrade,

Not

the statuary's art, that in the disgust of its operation it would be both out of the power, and out of the inclination, of men to pursue it. Will the people of England take Mr Owen Jones's reproof? To them the labours of Phidias have hitherto been thrown away, for they have only as yet seen his works in white marblein fact, unfinished. In this state Mr Jones thinks they have been very silly to admire them at all-and how they came to admire them who can comprehend? they have no colourable pretext for their admiration. only have the labours of Phidias been "thrown away,"-but, what is more galling to this age of economists, some forty thousand pounds of our good people's money have been thrown away too. What is left to be done? Simply what we have often done before-throw some "good money after the bad," and constitute Mr Owen Jones Grand Polychromatist-plenipotentiary, with competence of salary and paint-pots, and establish him for life, and his school for ever, in the British Museum. It is well for him and for them the innocent marbles have no motion, or the very stones would cry out against him, and uplift their quiescent arms to smash more than his paint-pots.

And here let us be allowed to remark of Mr Owen Jones's colouring, having been thoroughly disgusted at the Crystal Palace, that he is as yet but in the very elements of the grammar of colour. He has gone but a very little way in its alphabet. He has practised little more than the A B C

that is, the bright blue, the bright red, the bright yellow. But the alphabet is much beyond this. What of their combinations? These are so innumerable that, as if in despair of their acquirement, he puts his whole trust in the blue, red, and yellow, so that the very object of colour, variety, is missed, and the eye is wearied and irritated in this Crystal Palace with what may be called, in defiance of the contradiction of the word, a polychromatic monotony. His theory of colour stops short at the beginning-it is without its learning. The sentiments of colours are in their mixtures, their relative combinations, and ap