In the industrial arts the English are not remarkable. They are good in fire-arms and curious in weapons, as may be expected. They are expert in making barrels and vessels to hold liquors from wood; need, which they call the mother of invention, made this art a necessity; such is the prodigious quantity of beer which they consume. In dress-fabrics, in tools, in furniture, in metals, they show no more skill than our artisans, and in many articles not so much. We have arts, useful and beautiful, unknown to the Barbarians; they have things of mere show and luxury for which we have no use. In what is called Fine Art—that is Painting and Sculpture, particularly—we have but little to compare. By Fine Art is meant what is impossible to us; it is for the most part intolerable to us.
Think of the Illustrious of our Flowery Kingdom crowding into Halls, glittering with gilt and showy colours, to see there, arranged upon the walls and standing upon marble tables, great pictures of women and of men, often naked or nearly naked—wholly nude figures, mostly of women, in all attitudes, carved from marble, or made of a fine baked clay! Not only so; but the illustrious mothers, wives, daughters, and female friends, accompanying the men to the spectacle! The young man and the young woman together gazing upon the nude and flesh-tinted voluptuous female, glowing in the picture! No; we give no such encouragement to fine Art! Yet our painters compare favourably with those of the Barbarians, in such proper use of the Art as is allowed by us.
For the same reason, as Sculpture with us is only permitted where useful or innocent, it does not reach after such effects as with the Barbarians; where a naked figure of a young woman, done in marble to the luxurious taste of a wealthy High-Caste, will command a great sum. None the less, our Artists can execute with fidelity, as our Ancestral Halls will show.
Copying from the ancient Romans, in their most wanton and luxurious period, the kind of painting and sculpture referred to is most highly esteemed by the Christ-god worshippers! Many of the Roman works have been discovered, and serve as models; thus the ancients are imitated in their vicious taste, though condemned as very children of the devil!
With the decay of the darker terrors of the Superstition, the mind, rebounding from asceticism, swung to the other extreme. A rational morality and worship would have preserved a due medium. But with ancient letters revived a love for ancient art; and the indecencies from that source were condoned to the excellency of the work—or pretended to be. The Priests took no care to repress this outburst of voluptuousness; in truth, moulded its nude forms to the embellishment of Temples; and, holding the warm fancies of its devotees, strengthened their influence by a new device. This zeal for the voluptuous in Art and reproduction of Roman types, began by the Roman Pope, spread everywhere. Thus the Superstition itself sanctions this taste, which to us appears so unseemly and immoral.
In Parks and Gardens the English Barbarians are not surpassed. We have no equals in horticulture; but in gardens the English are fine artists, and in parks have caught the true instinct of Nature. When in these, I have felt conscious of a fine civilisation. The lovely parterres of blooming shrubs; the grand vases, rich in brilliant colours of delightful flowers; roses, festooned, trailed in arches over smooth walks; green spaces, where the sunlight lay warm and cheerful; noble avenues of lofty trees; sweet arbours, embowered in blossoms and verdant vines; shady walks, meandering among the trees; groves of evergreens, musical with cascades, gleaming in marble basins; and fountains, ornamented and sculptured in shining stone. Little lakes, where the breezes awoke the sleepy waves and chased them to the shore, and where the aquatic birds of many forms delighted to sport! The whole place eloquent and still in beauty! Here, no force, nor barbaric rudeness, nor worship of brutal strength, nor of hideous forms, nor of lighted altars! Here, the English Barbarian was a civilised man, and here I could love him!
Ah, when shall he, so strong, see his true strength, and know how to use it! Arm no more—teach the other Barbarians the proper use of Force! Dreaming no harm to others, fearing no harm to himself, and using the revenues of his great tribe to render it invincible in virtue—how then invincible in all!
One day one of the High-Caste took me under his Illustrious protection, and conveyed me to his grand House, built of hewn stone in the ancient Roman method. It stood among fine trees, a long and glistening façade [phr-not] of white and ornamental marble. He presented me to his illustrious wife, who graciously saved me from the too great embarrassment of her presence; for, as I shall hereafter explain, the custom of the Barbarians in this respect shocks all our notions. Hanging upon the gilded walls were the costly works of painters—among them naked women, coloured and tinted, in most voluptuous forms, smiling down upon us—upon sculptured pedestals, stood white statues, in rich marbles, of exquisite maidens, nude, and attractive in every graceful attitude and personal charm! All this was surprising, if not pleasing—but when this Lord [Tchou] took me into the gardens and Park, there, indeed, all was calm—the agitation of my spirit subsided!
Walking with him, he took me by the arm, and said, "Ah, my dear Chin-le, how little we know of each other; you do not understand how many things can be with us, nor can we understand many of your customs; but here we are not unlike—in this art we meet on common ground." I expressed my grateful sense of his goodness, assented to his happy reference, and then ventured to observe, "Your illustrious treats me like a relation—a brother." "In what respect—I do not know." "Ah, you presented me to the exalted, the lady [da-mtsi]—with us that is to say, this is a son, or a brother." He smiled. "Well, perhaps you are right. I rather think you are, in respect of women, though her Ladyship would not assent." I delicately hinted my embarrassment. "The pictures, the ——." He laughed good-humouredly, and replied, "Doubtless to eyes unused, such things look dazzling, and so on, but it is really only a matter of habit." But then, I suggested, "Is not Art misdirected when so employed." "Well, possibly; but an elegant thing, a beautiful thing—why not give an expression to that beauty which is the most interesting, the most charming?" "Does not that imply a purity above experience and above nature?" "I see; you lead into an ethical maze—look there?" I followed his hand, and the noble Park extended on all sides; yet, I said to myself, in our Flowery Kingdom, if a point be doubtful in morals we lean against the doubt. But is there any doubt as to these nudities? However, turning with admiration to the well-trained flowers, the spreading lawns of soft verdure, the beautiful vases of brilliant shrubs, the fine trees, with here and there a modest statue, or a marble fountain, I exclaimed, "How perfectly satisfactory and pleasing are these effects of an elevated Art, where nothing is suggested but what calms, cheers, refines, and makes generous!"