CONCERNING THE RELATIONS OF SCIENCE AND ART. BY GERVAS HOLMES. "La vraie beauté est la beauté idéale, et la beauté idéale est un reflet de l'infini. Ainsi, l'art est par lui-même essentiellement moral et religieux; car, à moins de manquer à sa propre loi, à son propre génie, il exprime partout dans ses œuvres la beauté éternelle." Victor Cousin. "O Lord, our Lord, and spoiler of our foes, Surely this writer's heart never did "leap up when he beheld A rainbow in the sky." "The shades of his prison house" must have closed around him uncommonly early, or he would never have become so completely science-bound as to talk about "ame There is no light but Thine: with Thee all beauty ding the natural rainbow." In view of this glows." A Keble. artless confession our feeling would be one of profound sorrow for the misfortune of the LATE writer in the Westminster Re- essayist in being condemned to a residence view, in attempting to take the "Bear-in such a ruinous and imperfect world; ings of Modern Science and Art," has shown but for his evident satisfaction in the coming himself, we think, somewhat overbearing to- millenium of "Scientific Art" which is to ward the latter. There is apparently no in- resuscitate it completely. Pity would there tentional injustice, but an evident miscon- fore be thrown away upon this philosophical ception of the real dignity of Art pervades the critic, who evidently enjoys the prospect of renovation which he pictures to himself as lying in the near future. He writes in the joyous spirit of an enthusiastic improver who, in buying an estate for a homestead, prefers one that, with manifest capabilities for amelioration about it, has been neglected. only half cultivated, and in many places, may be, left wild and desolate, in order that he may have the pleasure of creating his own home, and evoking order and beauty out of uncultured wilderness. He dwells on the imperfection of " the old representative syrabolical Art," and we are let into the su posed secret of its defectiveness, and told that it insufficiently exercises the senses; a grave fault, no doubt in the eyes of one whose philosophy is wholly of an experiment: character. But, behold the remedy! in the good days coming, when Art under the t telary direction of Science will reach pericetion : whole article; while the future achievements of science in the domains of Art are described in a tone of amusing exaggeration, far more characteristic of a cockney housedecorator than of the reverential feelings of the true artist. Take, for instance the following passage: "It is surely not too much to say that our walls ought now to be delicately diversified with the inexhaustible patterns of polarized light; ceilings and roofs should sparkle with the beaming arabesques of the prism; underfoot we ought to be treading on a mosaic of chemical gems. But instead of this we potter on with the primitive brush and chisel. The other, however, is the finest style of Art, which Science must in the end give us; unmanual, mechanicalized, experimental, illustrative; enabling us to reproduce and amend the natural rainbow, not imperfectly to mimic it only." ness. “Scientific art will so habituate the senses to inexhaustible splendour of hue, and to accuracy of intricate form, that manual achievements must come to show a glaring rudeThe polarizing mirror will spoil us for the noble child's play of Titian's yellows and Turner's scarlets; the crystal, with its pellucid severities of form, will train us to see hesitating crooks in all lines drawn or sculptured with the fingers." It is further suggested that through the advance of science we are becoming so thoroughly en rapport with what have hitherto been the secrets of nature, that Manual Art, not being able to find symbols "for the subtler presentiments of cellular and crystal- | line organization," must cease altogether, not being "able to content the fully aroused organic appetites!" Such appetites were indeed difficult to satisfy with the grand spiritual conceptions and teachings of High Art. It would be as rational to attempt to satisfy the appetite of a hungry boor with the symphonies of Mozart or Beethoven, as the soul of a positive philosopher with the feeling of ideal beauty. But does it thence follow that all art that is not under mechanical direction and influence is of an inferior quality? Is the genius. of the heaven-born artist to become powerless and fruitless unless it becomes the slave of science-a thing to be summoned by what this essayist has himself fitly enough described as a "mechanical spell"? Under such conditions art would indeed become effete, and, losing its divine strength, beservant to the Philistines, con come a demned "To grind in brazen fetters under task." This is a philosophy of very narrow comprehension,—“a reason very little reasonable, since it does not include all parts of human nature." And herein lies the source of the reviewer's misapprehension of the true function of Art. His range of view is narrow and incomplete, though an admirable one as far as it goes. He has dwelt with And aptitude for utterance divine The truth is that Art has a nobler mission than to address the senses alone. She comes to us with "messages of splendour" from the grand unapproachable Central Source of light and beauty, + telling us of a larger and fuller life beyond and around. this present one, and giving us glimpses, too swift and short, of its supersensual glories,— whisperings of things not seen, like those of the shell concerning which Wordsworth beautifully sings, whose "sonorous cadences" express "Mysterious union with its native sea," telling of "ever-during power And central peace, subsisting at the heart As the Prophetess of Nature, the Revealer and Expositor of her mysteries, Art takes up the same parable, and by her interpretations makes more widely and fully manifest the "invisible things" of the Creator. If the language of the artist-preacher is symbolical, it is not on that account either uncertain,or untruthful. The objection that the intellect. is offended by "an imperfect and partially symbolical representation is simply absurd. The intellect can no more be offended by anything that enables it to grasp more firmly objects of mental conception (intelligenda) * Dr. Holland's "Kathrina." † Φῶς οἰκῶν ἀπρόσιτον.” The Excursion, Book 4. 1 Tim. vi.-16. works of Sir Walter Scott. But too often both writers and painters appear to do their utmost to stifle the spirit of their subject the abundance of its rich and heavy drapery. Yet the highest development of even this excellence of expression is seldom to be o1tained thus. "It is," as an able Art crite has well observed, "almost always combined with excellence of thought, expressed or spoken. But when it falls short of this it is foolishness and emptiness. It may be beau tiful exceedingly-it may be rich in gorgeous colouring, and lovely with all the loveliness of effective light and shadow, but if the little bright drop from the soul' be absent, it is not the highest art."* There are, doubtless, many branches or departments of the Fine Arts in which accu racy, delicacy and precision are specia needed, and in these the services of science are invaluable. In architecture, artist.c metallurgy, and some kinds of textile fabrics, mechanical and other appliances are used very largely with great advantage; and here after they will become increasingly valuable than the eye can be offended by more distinct vision of physical objects. What, in deed, are words but symbols of the most abstract kind; and yet we all feel their inestimable value in the expression and interpretation of our thoughts far too deeply to be offended by their acknowledged inadequacy. How contracted our knowledge would be without the use of these signs or symbols of thought! How terribly imperfect the intercourse between mind and mind! Yet if inadequacy of expression is to be accepted as a reason for silence, most of us would be struck dumb. More especially would this be the case in regard to matters of the highest importance. The greatest of the prophets often spoke-" as little children lisp, and sing of heaven"—of things beyond their ken-of "thoughts beyond their thought." Symbolical representation (understanding by that term any variation from the plain narration, or literal expression of any mental conception, facts, or external appearances), may then really be, as indeed we often experience, a fuller exponent of the idea, a more perfect representation of the truth-in adding beauty and elegance to these ard the soul of things, than the best attempt at other kinds of artistic work. We go even farliteral exposition. Artists of the pre-Raphae- ther in this direction, and admit that we think lite or realistic school appear to miss this it is quite possible for empirical and mechatruth. Excellent in their aims, in their love nicalized Art to rival, perchance to surpass of truth, and hatred of shams and conven- the "Dutch Interiors" of Teniers, the fru tionalisms, they succeed at times in the pro- pieces of Lance, beautiful as most of the duction of very fine pictures. Yet too are in their way, or even the exuberant generally they overshoot the mark, and in bodily excellence of the Flemish type o exaggerated efforts to be faithful, lose the humanity in which Rubens so much detruth and the life of their subject by too lighted. But the chief merits of such pairtsedulous attention to the minute details of ings as these is that of expression, that is to external form and finish. The life and spirit say, the effective use of the material employed of their subjects evaporate under such labor- to convey the idea. Such pictures are like ious manipulation. The language of paint-popular orations, intended only to please by ing is synthetic in its character, and therefore brilliancy of dress. Both are alike appeals inconsistent with the analytical effect of to the senses, and both alike fail in reaching realism, which draws the attention too much to the consideration of details. In verbal description, on the other hand, this minuteness of detail is requisite in order to secure pictorial effect, as is finely exemplified in the the heart, which indeed they were not intended to do. Many paintings of the schools referred to are undoubtedly good in ther North British Review, February, 1862. way, but they neither seek after, nor point to the highest good. Nay, some of them tend the other way, and fold the senses so "Thick and dark About the stifled soul within" haunted our mind and memory ever since, as the most perfect conception of the great Apostle of the Gentiles that we have ever seen. The spare, attenuated form (truer to the Scriptural ideal than the superb creation of Raphael's pencil) was not above that it can hardly even "guess diviner the middle height, but in the grand, heroic things beyond."* face, worn as it was with care and suffering, might be traced the lineaments of an am The difference between empirical and ideal art is finely illustrated by Mrs. New-bassador of heaven. The noble expression ton Crosland in two beautiful sonnets lately published in Appleton's Journal," which are here submitted to the reader : PHOTOGRAPHY AND ART. I. "He who hath made the sun his serf can show The soul's fine traceries, which seem so mean "The Artist labours in a nobler way; He hath a mighty wand that subtly breaks The hard, straight bar which every casement streaks; And as he quickly opens to the day The thick dim panes, he bids the prisoner stay If casement panes and bars less fact-like glow of a highly cultivated intellect was suffused and irradiated with a calmer, diviner light which "told that the soul within Had tasted that true peace which never fails." On the bema before which the Apostle stood, the Roman Governor sat in a half-averted position, a haughty scepticism, mingled with impatience, written on his face. On his left was "King Agrippa," his somewhat hard features wearing a perplexed, half-convinced expression; while near by the careless attitude and fair but disdainful features of his sister Berenice bore witness to her contemptuous indifference to all that was passing. In the back ground appeared a group of Jewish rabbis, their dark, malicious visages glaring at the dignified prisoner with implacable fierceness, as if only the strong leash of the military power of Rome, (indicated by the presence of a lictor, and one or two soldiers) kept them from tearing him to pieces. Weak and feeble as was the bodily aspect of the prisoner, there was on his part no quailing in that august presence. Conscious of a better position, and a nobler heritage. than any of his judges or accusers, he stood before them unmoved, save by a divine compassion. It was, as the Apostle knew, a supremely solemn moment in the lives of those present. Truth had been spoken which would never again reach their earstruth on which hung everlasting things; and as he realized this, the grand soul within shone with heavenly brightness out of that worn countenance, and prompted the utter ance (its expression touchingly aided by the uplifting of his fettered arm) of the earnest wish of his generous heart, in the wellknown words to Agrippa, "I would to God that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day were both almost and altogether such as I am, except these bonds." In the creation of such a picture as this, empirical science can never have any share, save as a devout servant of the genius which evokes it into being. There is in these creations of mind a "grandeur surpassing all physics." They take us beyond ourselves, toward the Infinite. They teach us the important lesson that no beauty exclusively physical can fully satisfy the lofty æsthetic cravings of the soul of man, any more than the largest amount of scientific or literary acquirements can satisfy his intellect. "The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing." "Our longings are on larger scale Than lower worlds can grant us ;" and the best alchemy of earth can only produce phantom roses from the ashes of our brightest dreams, destitute alike of bloom and perfume.* But there is a Divine Science by means * See Longfellow's fine poem "Palingenesis,” which is touchingly suffused with that feeling of soul-weariness which characterizes most of his writings. of which we can place ourselves in harmonious relationship with that primeval beauty of which all true loveliness is but a more or less faint reflection; and to reach this is the highest wisdom. As an able living writer* has well observed, "No true reason is or ought to be satisfied with an echo, a type, a symbol of something higher which it cannot reach. If it finds transitory beauty in the type, it turns, by its own. law, to gaze on the eternal beauty beneath ; if it finds broken music in the echo, it yearns after the perfect harmony which roused the echo." This is the conclusion we wish to reach, and with the beautiful antiphonal words of the Rev. Dr. Punshon, in a little volume (not so well known as it deserves to be whose "Sabbath chimes" echo the peace bearing music of the skies, we end our paper: "No light, no rest below! Our hearts are weary, and our voices falter Ah! whither shall our anguished spirits go? Lord, be Thy love our plea-Thy Cross our altar "All, all we want is Thine! Greek beauty, Roman reverence in Thee blended And nature glows into a holy shrine And form is spirit-and doubt is ended." *Mr. R. H. Hutton, in the first of two volume of " Essays," recently published by Strahan & Co., London. |