History of Sculpture, Painting, and Architecture

by J. S. Memes

Purpose, besides the constitutional effects upon the science already described, necessarily occasions the various classes under which the labours of the architect may be arranged. Architecture, by this principle, is separated into two grand divisions—Civil and Military. The former of these, from its greater variety of purpose, is further subdivided into subordinate heads, namely, placing each in the order of its probable antiquity, Sacred, Monumental, Municipal, and Domestic. These modifications of purpose do not, indeed, give novel principles, nor do they affect any of the conclusions already explained; they have only, though strongly, influenced the practice of the art. In presenting an abstract of the history of the science of Architecture, then, it is not requisite to dwell particularly upon these divisions, nor to be guided by them in the future arrangement of our matter. But as we may occasionally revert, by a passing word, to the obvious distinctions which are thus perceived, a short explanation, especially as several scattered particulars of very early times can thus be properly assembled, will here be useful.

Sacred Architecture is a term sufficiently expressive of its own import. It was the primitive effort of the present race of man; the first impress of his existence left upon the soil, yet moist from the waters of the deluge, was the erection of an altar; and the noblest evidence of his most accomplished skill has been a temple:

——'His greatest ornament of fame,
And strength, and art.'

From the 'altar builded by Noah,' how interesting to follow out the effects of one uncontrollable, but, when unguided, erring sentiment in the steadfast piles—'works of Memphian kings,' in the glorious proportions of Greece, where

——'Doric pillars,
Cornice, and frieze, with bossy sculptures graven,'

rear their graceful height, looking tranquil magnificence—down even to the rude circle of grey stones on the bleak heath! For this inquiry, visible materials are indeed wanting; but does not the Word of Truth supply the general inference, 'The imaginations of man's heart are wicked—he has sought out many inventions—but I will be honored among the generations of men?'

Incidental allusion has already been made to the marvellous fabric reared by Solomon, which, if not in grace, in splendor of decoration appears to have exceeded all the erections of the early ages, and is the first of which written notice remains. The descriptions of this building enable us to form a reunion of the arts of Sculpture and Architecture at the commencement of the tenth century before Christ. This date, however, we consider to be at least six hundred years later than the era of any Egyptian monument, not of brick, now extant throughout the whole course of the Nile. In considering, also, the countries whence Solomon obtained workmen, will be remarked the confirmation of the preceding observations on the originating causes of styles in architecture. The hewers of stone, we are informed, were from Egypt; and the solid substructions of the Jewish temple, the massive proportions of the separate parts—resemblances still more striking in Josephus' account of the second edifice—show exactly the same principles and practice as can to this day be traced in the Egyptian structures. From Phoenicia, again, a country abounding in timber, were brought the most skilful 'hewers of wood,' that is, workmen instructed in the arts of the joiner and carpenter, and also, as may be inferred from various descriptions of the ornamental appendages, of the carver or sculptor in wood,—'and the cedar of the house within was carved with open knops and flowers;' again, and 'he made two cherubims of olive tree.' These sculptures, however, might have been finished, and, from the state of art in that country, most probably were the work of artists from Egypt. There can be no doubt that the 'House,' as the magnificent pile is emphatically termed, was of a quadrangular outline, erected upon a solid platform of stone, bearing a strong resemblance to the ancient temples still extant. Indeed, there is, in this respect, a most striking analogy between the dimensions as given in Scripture, and those of the oldest Greek temples, especially of Ægina and Pæstum. This latter we have examined, and, agreeing to the fidelity of the grounds upon which Wilkins has founded his reasonings, in the admirable dissertation on this subject in his preface to the 'Antiquities of Magna Grecia,' we cannot coincide in the final conclusion, that the Greeks borrowed the Doric order from this ancient temple of Solomon. Reference to this subject is hereafter to be made. In the meantime, while facts are fresh in the mind, it must be obvious to the reader, that, since the shell or carcass of the temple of Jerusalem was of stone, and built by Egyptian workmen, alone skilled in that material, the general arrangements would resemble those of the Egyptian temples. Consequently, the Greeks and the Jews, deriving their leading orders from one source, would naturally, though unconsciously, imitate each other. Again, since wood was employed in every part of the roof and interior by Solomon, on the principles already explained, the relative proportions of the parts, and the number of the supports, would necessarily be different, compared with the similar members of Egyptian art. But the Greeks also in part followed the laws of wooden structure; consequently both differing, on similar principles, from the original model, would yet preserve mutual resemblance in that very difference.

Monumental Architecture, deriving its origin from allied feelings and associations, would be coeval, or nearly so, with the origin of sacred. Indeed, it is not possible always to separate the two distinct purposes. Monuments have two objects in view—to honor the memory of the dead, and to preserve remembrance of the transactions of the living; both of which are recorded in Scripture. The material of a monumental erection, and consequently its design, will always, in early times, be determined by the circumstances of the vicinity, with the sole exception of wood. Hence pillars of stone, and mounds of earth, are the primitive records of both life and death. In a more advanced age, when stone could not be readily procured, brick would be employed. The magnitude and beauty will accord with the skill of the times. Hence arise sources of determining the relative antiquity of monuments, and the circumstances of the age. Under almost every privation of means, and in all countries, 'heaped earth' would present a durable and an accessible material. Hence the universality of this species of monument throughout the globe. This primitive accumulation of efforts—for an earthen mound can be considered as nothing more—seems to have given origin to the most gigantic labours of human architecture. The pyramids of Egypt, and the cognate structures of India, seem to be imitations, wonderful indeed, of the more ancient barrow. They are, in fact, but mounds of higher art and more valuable materials. Their intermediate forms, indeed, may be traced in both countries, at least in the curve which would bound the perpendicular section of the mound. In India, however, pyramids seem, from the extent of the interior, and the facility of access, to have been chiefly intended for places of crowded resort—most likely, therefore, temples. In Egypt, again, the single chamber, the imperviously closed entrance, appear to indicate with precision their original destination to have been sepulchral. It has already been remarked, that the Arts are themselves their own best interpreters, and that little faith is to be placed in the remote analogies of philology, which have too frequently been admitted in evidence beyond their value; but it has often been matter of surprise, that two words, belonging to the most ancient forms of the Syriac language, should have been overlooked in the numerous derivations of the word pyramid. Peer and Muid, as the words in question may be rendered in our characters, united, as in Eastern languages, forming compound expressions, would give almost identical sound, and in signification, 'the hill or mountain of the dead,' would be nearer the purpose and appearance than any derivation with which we are acquainted.

Under the head of Municipal Architecture is included every application of the science to those purposes of social life not included under the former heads, such as public buildings of all descriptions connected with the civil business of life, up to the arrangements of entire cities. Men, therefore, must have been assembled together for some time, they must have agreed upon certain compacts and regulations of society, before this branch could have made any progress in the world. Yet we find, that not more than a century after the flood, a city was begun, a fact already attempted to be explained; and to what was then said it may be farther added, that the Tower of Babel, which belonged to this city, was clearly monumental—it was 'to make a name.' Although no vestiges of the ancient cities of Asia or of Egypt remain, sufficient from inspection to corroborate the descriptions of history, these lead to the belief, that, in many instances, the plan and architecture were both regular and grand. The reader, however, ought to be on his guard against the amplifications of Scriptural and Homeric accounts contained in later authorities, in as far as the former describe relatively, according to the state of things in their own age and experience; whereas the latter, too often forgetting this distinction, convey the impression, that grandeur and magnificence were absolute. Yet, even with this abatement, there remains sufficient ground of admiration in the ideas excited of Thebes, Babylon, Nineveh, or Memphis. There appears, in this respect, a very striking difference between the cities of the second age, after the arts had migrated into Europe. Many circumstances tend to confirm the opinion, that, even in Greece, Municipal Architecture in general was not much studied, and that there were few, if any, really fine cities among the numerous capitals of that country. Their magnificence was concentrated in particular spots—in their agorai, or squares. Their temples usually stood apart; so that, like the cities of modern Italy, whatever might be the beauty, or the romantic effect of their distant appearance, internally, they often appear to have been little more than an irregular assemblage of narrow winding streets. Such we know Athens to have been to a very late period. Sparta was long an unwalled village. Argos, Thebes, or Corinth, cannot be placed in comparison with the before mentioned capitals of Asia and Egypt. Even Rome, to the age of Nero, was crowded, unwholesome, and mean, over a great portion of its less important surface. In one respect, however, it seems to have differed greatly from every other ancient city of which we read, namely, in the great elevation of the houses; in almost every other instance we are led to an opposite inference, which is further corroborated by the present appearance of Pompeii.