(γ) In asserting this, however, we do not maintain that sculpture, where, in the case where it adheres to its principle in all its severity and attains its highest point, must necessarily exclude entirely the attitude of movement. If it did so it would merely present to us the divine in its indeterminacy and indifference. On the contrary, in so far as it is its function to comprehend the substantive as individuality, and to present it to our vision in bodily form, both the ideal and external condition, in accordance with which it brings its content and form to an impression, is necessarily individual. And it is this individuality of a definite situation which is pre-eminently expressed by means of the pose and movement of the body. Inasmuch as, however, the substantive in sculpture is of most importance, and individuality is not as yet itself extricated from the same to the point of particular self-subsistency, the specific determinacy of the situation must not be of a kind that it impairs or annuls the simple sterling character[169] of that substantiveness, by either making it one-sided or drawing it into the conflict of collisions, or in a general way by placing it without reserve under the overmastering importance and variety of what is particular. It must rather remain, independently regarded, a determinacy less essential in its result, or rather we may say a vivacious play of vital force, harmless in effect over the superficial features of individuality, whose substantive character in no respect suffers loss thereby in depth, subsistency, and repose. This is, however, a point which I have at an earlier stage of this investigation already[170] discussed at length in relation to the Ideal of sculpture when the situation itself was under review, in which the Ideal ought to appear in definite relation to the presentation: further discussion may here be consequently dispensed with.
(c) The last point of importance we have now to consider is the question of drapery in sculpture. At first sight it may appear as though the nude form and its corporeal beauty permeated by spiritual significance, in the manner of its pose and movement, were the most appropriate form for the Ideal of sculpture, and drapery were simply a hindrance. In accordance with such a view we hear the complaint raised, more particularly in our own time, that modern sculpture is so frequently forced to drape its figures, whereas no drapery should touch the beauty of human organic forms. And we have finally the wail added that our artists should have so little opportunity of studying the nude which was ever before the eyes of the ancients. In general we may simply reply to this that though without question, from the point of view of sensuous beauty, the preference must be given to the nude form, yet merely sensuous beauty is not the ultimate aim of sculpture, so that the Greeks do not give the lead to a false path when they presented the larger number of their male figures no doubt in the nude, but by far the greater number of female figures draped.
(α) And generally we may add that, apart from artistic purpose, drapery is justified in real measure in the necessity of providing a protection from climatic changes, Nature having failed to provide man with any covering of hide, feathers, hair, such as animals possess. And from another point of view it is the sense of modesty which compels man to cover himself with raiment. Now this shame, regarded in a general way, is a beginning of indignation over that which is coarse or crude. Man in fact, who is conscious of his more elevated calling to be Spirit, must necessarily regard what is purely animal as an incompatibility with that, and pre-eminently seek to cover, as that which is not consonant with the Ideal of his soul[171], those parts of his body, such as the belly, breast, back, and legs, which are subservient to animal functions, or only are directed to external uses, and possess directly no spiritual determinacy, and no spiritual expression. We therefore find among every people, who have entered upon the life of reflection, this sense of shame and the necessity of clothing in some degree, whether great or small. As far back as the narrative of Genesis we have this transition expressed in the shrewdest way. Before Adam and Eve have eaten of the tree of knowledge they walk in Paradise in the nakedness of innocence; but no sooner is their consciousness as spiritual beings[172] aroused than they are ashamed of their nakedness. The same sense is prevalent among all other Asiatic nations. So, for example, Herodotus asserts in narrating[173] how Gyges came to the throne, that it was regarded even in a man as a matter of shame among the Lydians, and almost all barbarians, to be seen naked; and as a proof of this we have the tale of the wife of Candaules, king of the Lydians. The tale runs that Candaules exposed his wife in nudity to the gaze of Gyges, his satellite and favourite, in order to convince him that her beauty as a woman was beyond compare. She, however, discovered the outrage, which it was intended to conceal from her, by chance seeing Gyges, who had been hidden in her sleeping chamber, slip out of the door. Indignant at the outrage, she received Gyges in audience the following day, and declared to him that, inasmuch as the king had taken this step and permitted Gyges to see what he ought not to have seen, he might select one of two courses, either kill the king as his punishment, and possess himself both of her and the kingdom, or himself die. Gyges selected the first alternative, and after assassinating the king mounted the throne and married the widow. On the other hand the Egyptians represented frequently, or, indeed, for the most part, their statues in the nude to the extent that the male figures merely carried an apron; and in the case of Isis the drapery was indicated by nothing more than a barely perceptible fringe round the legs. This, however, was neither due to a defective sense of shame, nor in virtue of their instinct for the beauty of organic forms. For if we consider their symbolic point of view we can only maintain that what concerned them was not the configuration of a presentment consonant with a spiritual significance, but rather the meaning, the essence and conception of that which the form was intended to present to intelligence; and they permitted the human form to be thus, without reflection upon the further and more remote adequacy of the same to Spirit, in its natural state, which they moreover copied with great closeness to life.
(β) Finally, among the Greeks, we meet with both aspects, both nude and draped figures. And in actual life also they were equally clothed, albeit from other considerations they held it a point of honour to have first contested in the games nude. To an exceptional degree the Lacedaemonians were the first to wrestle naked. But this was with them not due so much to a sense of beauty as to their general indifference to what savoured of refinement and spiritual purport in the sense of modesty. In the national character of the Greek people, among whom the feeling for personal individuality in all its immediacy, and as it is the spiritual animation of their existence, is so strongly developed, taking this as the instinct for free and beautiful forms, it was also inevitable that what was human in its immediacy, the bodily presence, that is, as it belongs to man and is suffused with his spirit, should be elaborated in independent form, and that the human form should be revered above all others for the reason that it is the freest and the most beautiful. In this sense, no doubt, they threw aside that instinct of shame, which will not suffer us to look at what is purely corporeal in' man, not out of indifference to what was spiritual, but with an indifference to what is purely sensuous in desire, for the sake of beauty; and this intention is manifest in full play throughout a great number of their nude figures.
This entire absence of drapery, however, it was impossible wholly to justify on principle. For, as I have already indicated when distinguishing the head from other parts of the body, it is undeniable that the spiritual expression of the form is restricted to the face and the pose and movement of the whole, to the general mien, which is pre-eminently eloquent by virtue of the arms, hands, and position of the legs. For these organs, whose activity is in an outward direction, have still, and precisely by the nature of their pose and movement, for the most part the expression of a spiritual deliverance. The other members of the body, on the contrary, are and remain solely productive of a sensuous beauty; and the distinguishing features which are visible on them can only be bodily vigour, development of muscle, or degrees of delicacy and softness, such as characterize respectively the two sexes, age, youth, and childhood. As a means, therefore, of expressing what is spiritual in the form, the nudity of these parts is also from the standpoint of beauty indifferent; and it is only due to our moral sense, when, that is to say, the main thing looked for is the paramount presentation of the spiritual in man, that such parts should be veiled. What in general ideal art does in the case of every separate part of the body is to remove the necessary limitations of animal life in its detailed particularities, such as little veins, wrinkles, hairs of the skin, and so forth, and simply to enforce and emphasize the spiritual impression of the form in its vital outlines, and this is precisely what drapery effects. It covers up the superfluity of the organs, which are no doubt necessary for the body's self-support, but are in other respects superfluous as an expression of the spirit's import. We are, therefore, not entitled to assert without condition that the nudity of figures of sculpture in every respect betrays a higher sense of beauty, and a greater ethical freedom and emaculacy. It was in this respect, as in others, that a just and spiritual instinct dominated the Greek.
Children, Cupid for example, where we find the bodily presentment one of unreserved innocence, and the spiritual beauty consisting just in this; or, to take other examples, youths, youthful gods, heroic gods, and heroes, such as Perseus, Hercules, Theseus, Jason, in which cases heroic courage, and the use and elaboration of the bodily frame in works of bodily strength and permanence is of most importance; or wrestlers in the national games, where it is not so much the content of the action, the spirit and individuality of character, as the physical aspect of the exploit, the vigour, suppleness, and free play of the muscles and limbs, which is the source of exclusive interest; or finally fauns and satyrs, Bacchantes in the frenzy of the dance, no less than Aphrodite, in so far as the sensuous charm of her beauty is emphasized—such are the kind of examples which were rendered in the nude by antique sculpture. Where, on the contrary, a more lofty significance and reflection, a more ideal earnestness is made prominent, where in general the natural features are not superlatively emphasized, there we get drapery. So Winckelmann adduces a case where among ten statues of the female form only one is wholly undraped. Among the goddesses Pallas, Juno, Vesta, Diana, Ceres and the Muses are pre-eminently those which are veiled in drapery, while among the gods such a treatment particularly applies to Jupiter, and the bearded Indian Bacchus, with some others.
(γ) And finally with regard to the principle of drapery, it is unquestionable that we have here a subject that critics are very fond of discussing, and which has consequently to some extent been already well thrashed out. I will, therefore, limit myself to the few following remarks.
Generally we have no reason to lament the fact that our modern feeling of what is respectable is somewhat averse to setting up totally nude figures. For if the drapery merely permits the pose in question to be entirely transpicuous instead of covering it up, we lose nothing at all; rather the drapery is just that which rightly fixes the emphasis, and is in this respect even an advantage, in so far as it draws us aside from the direct view of that which as merely sensuous is without true significance, and simply shows us what is there in relation to the situation expressed by means of pose and movement.
(αα) Once accept this principle, and it may at first sight appear that such covering is of most signal advantage for the artistic treatment, which conceals the contour of the limbs, and consequently also the pose as little as possible, precisely in fact as this is the case with our sufficiently enclosing modern garments. Our closely fitting sleeves and trousers follow the outlines of the form, and stand in the way of the motion and mien least of all by their making the entire form of the limbs visible. The long white garments and bulging-out hoses of the Orientals, on the contrary, are intolerable to our sense of vivacity and multifarious activities, and are only fitting for folk who, like the Turks, sit the whole day long in one place with legs crossed, or only perambulate slowly and with great gravity. And yet we are conscious at the same time—indeed the very first glance at either modern statues or pictures will establish the truth for us—that our modern clothing is entirely unartistic. In other words what we behold in it really is, as I have already in another passage, insisted, not the fine, free, and vital outlines of the body in their tender and flowing elaboration, but stretched out sacks with stiff folds. For albeit we do obtain the most generalized form, yet the beauty of the organic undulations is lost; and what we really look at is a contrivance of exterior aim, a matter of tailor's work, which in one place is stitched together, in another folded back over, and yet in another made tightly fitting—in other words, as a whole, forms that are not free, folds and surfaces which are fastened together by stitch, buttons and button holes. To all intents and purposes such a clothing as this is simply a cover and veil, which, while devoid of any real form of its own, yet in its other aspect, though in a general sort of way following the organic contour of limbs, hides from the view just that sensuous beauty and vital rondour and undulation which belongs to them, merely to replace it with the material aspect of the mechanically elaborated stuff of which it is composed. And thus we get what is so entirely inartistic in our modern form of garments.
(ββ) The principle for an artistic type of clothing, then, consists in this that it is at the same time treated as a work of architectonic design. Such a work is simply an environment, in which a man can likewise move in freedom, and which must essentially possess and declare on its part a determinate shape of its own as its mode of covering quite apart from the form which it encloses. Add to this such a work, in its aspect of a thing which is worn and carried, must freely follow its own mechanical texture. A principle of this type follows in the track of the kind of draping which we find adopted in the ideal sculpture of the ancients. Particularly here do we find that the mantle is as it were a house in which free motion is possible. It is no doubt carried, but is only made fast at one point, namely, on the shoulder. For the rest it evolves its particular form according to the modifications brought about by its own weight; it hangs, falls along the ground, and casts folds spontaneously, and only receives through the pose the varied changes of this free kind of configuration. In like manner there is little to impair essentially, if in varied degree, the freedom of disposition in other parts of antique drapery. This it is which constitutes its artistic quality. It is only in drapery such as this that we do not face something which is a burden, and something artificial, whose shape merely displays an external constraint and necessity, which is rather something itself independent in its form, and which, however, accepts from a spiritual source, that is the pose of the figure, its point of departure. For this reason the garments of the ancients are only fastened to the body so far as is actually unavoidable, that is, to prevent their collapse, and are modified by the pose of it. In all other respects they hang freely about it, and themselves in their power of movement through the motion of the body give yet further support to the same principle. And this is wholly as it should be; for the body is one thing and its drapery another, and the latter ought thereby to receive its full due and be displayed in its freedom. Modern clothing on the contrary is either wholly carried by the body and purely in subjection to it, so that even the pose itself is too emphatically repeated, and it merely follows the forms of the limbs, or, in cases where it is able to secure an independent form in the formation of folds, it is after all merely the tailor's work who makes this form according to the exigences of fashion. The material is, on the one hand, dragged up and down by the various parts of the body and their movements, and, on the other, by its stitches and seams. On grounds of this description the antique form of drapery is by a long way to be preferred to our modern style as the ideal standard for works of sculpture. No end has been written with every resource of antiquarian research over the form and details of the ancient ways of draping, for although men as a rule do not permit themselves to chatter much over fashion in their clothes, the kind of cloth, border, cut, and every other such detail, yet they find ample justification from the antiquarian standpoint for treating these trifling matters also as important, and of talking about them with even greater prolixity than is permitted to woman herself in her unchallenged field of supremacy.