In lieu of further observations, we submit to our readers the overpowering influence of the situation, as a friend has clearly and sympathetically described it.
"Rome is a place where all antiquity is concentrated into a unity for our inspection. What we have felt with the ancient poets, concerning ancient forms of government, we believe more than ever to feel, even to see, in Rome. As Homer cannot be compared with other poets, so Rome can be compared with no other city, the Roman country with no other landscape. Most of this impression is no doubt due, it is true, to ourselves, and not to the subject; but it is not only the sentimental thought of standing where this or that great man has stood, it is an irresistible attraction toward what we regard as—although it may be through a necessary deception—a noble and sublime past; a power which even he who wished to cannot resist, because the desolation in which the present inhabitants leave the land and the incredible masses of ruins themselves attract and convince the eye. And as this past appears to the mind in a grandeur which excludes all envy, in which one is more than happy to take part, if only with the imagination (indeed, no other participation is conceivable); and as the senses too are charmed by the beauty of form, the grandeur and simplicity of the figures, the richness of the vegetation (though not luxuriant like that of a more southern region), the precision of the outlines in the clear air and the beauty of the colors in their transparency—so the enjoyment of nature is here a purely artistic one, free from everything distracting. Everywhere else the ideas of contrast appear and the enjoyment of nature is elegiac or satiric. It is true that these sentiments exist only for us. To Horace, Tibur seemed more modern than does Tivoli to us, as is proved by his 'Beatus ille qui procul negotiis,' but it is only an illusion to imagine that we ourselves would like to be inhabitants of Athens or Rome. Only in the distance, separated from everything common, only as a thing of the past, must antiquity appear to us. This is the sentiment of a friend and myself, at least, in regard to the ruins; we are always incensed when a half sunken ruin is excavated; for this can only be a gain for scholarship at the expense of the imagination. There are only two things which inspire me with an equal horror: that the Campagna di Roma should be built up, and that Rome should become a well policed city, in which no man any longer carried a knife. Should such an order-loving Pope appear—which may the seventy-two cardinals prevent—shall move away. Only if such divine anarchy and such a heavenly wilderness remain in Rome, is there place for the shadows, one of which is worth more than the whole present race."
RAFAEL MENGS
But Winckelmann might have groped a long time among the multitudes of antique survivals in search of the most valuable objects and those most worthy of his observation, if good fortune had not immediately brought him into contact with Mengs. The latter, whose own great talent was enthralled by the ancient works of art and especially by such as were beautiful, immediately introduced his friend to the most excellent—a fact worthy of our attention. Here Winckelmann learned to recognize beauty of form and its treatment, and was immediately inspired to undertake a treatise, Concerning the Taste of the Greek Artists. But one cannot go about studying works of art for any length of time without discovering that they are the productions not only of different artists but of different epochs, and that all investigations concerning the place of their origin, their age, their individual merit must be undertaken together. Winckelmann, with his unerring perception, soon found that this was the axis on which the entire knowledge of art revolves. He confined himself at first to the most sublime works, which he intended to present in a treatise, Concerning the Style of Sculpture in the Age of Phidias, but he soon rose above these details to the idea of a history of art, and discovered a new Columbus, a land long surmised, hinted at and discussed—yea, a land, we might say, that had formerly been known and forgotten.
It is sad to observe how at first through the Romans, afterward through the invasion of northern peoples, and the confusion arising in consequence, mankind came into such a state that all true and pure culture was for a long time retarded in its development, indeed was almost made impossible for the entire future. In any field of art and science that we may contemplate, a direct and unerring perception had already revealed much to the ancient investigator which, during the barbarism which followed, and through the barbaric manner of escaping from barbarism, became and remained a secret; which it will long continue to be for the masses, because the general progress of higher culture in modern times is but slow. This remark does not apply to technical progress, of which mankind happily makes use without asking questions as to whence it comes and whither it leads.
We are impelled to this observation by certain passages of ancient authors, in which anticipations, even indications, of a possible and necessary history of art appear. Velleius Paterculus observes with great interest, the coincidence in the rise and fall of all the arts. As a man of the world, he was especially concerned with the observation that they could be maintained only for a short time at the highest point which it was possible for them to reach.
From his standpoint he could not regard all arts as a living entity [Greek: (psoon)], which must necessarily reveal an imperceptible beginning, a slow growth, a short and brilliant period of perfection, and a gradual decline—like every other organic being, except that it is manifested in a number of individuals. He therefore assigns only moral causes, which certainly must be included as contributory, but hardly satisfy his own great sagacity, because he probably feels that a necessity here exists which cannot be compounded out of detached elements.
"That the grammarians, painters and sculptors fared as did also the orators, every one will find who examines the testimony of the ages; the highest development of every art is invariably circumscribed by a very short space of time. Just why a number of similarly endowed, capable men make their appearance within a certain cycle of years and devote themselves to the same art and its advancement, is a matter upon which I have often reflected, without discovering any cause that I might present as true. Among the most probable causes the following seem to me the most important: Rivalry nourishes the talents; here envy, and there admiration, incite to imitation, and the art promoted with so much diligence quickly reaches its culmination. It is difficult to remain in a state of perfection, and what does not advance retrogrades. And so in the beginning we endeavor to attain our models, but when we despair of surpassing or even approaching them, diligence and hope grow old, and what we fail to attain, is no longer pursued. We cease to strive after the possession already obtained by another, and search for something new. Relinquishing that in which we cannot shine, we seek another goal for our efforts. From this inconstancy, it seems to me, arises the greatest obstacle to the production of perfect works of art."
A passage of Quintilian, containing a concise outline of the history of ancient art, also deserves to be pointed out as an important document in this domain. In his conversations with Roman art lovers, Quintilian must also have noticed a striking resemblance between the character of Greek artists and Roman orators, and then have sought to gain more exact information from connoisseurs and art-lovers. In his comparative presentation, in which the character of the art is each time associated with that of the age, he is compelled, without knowing or wishing it, to present a history of art.
They say that the first celebrated painters whose works are visited not by reason of their antiquity alone, were Polygnotus and Aglaophon. Their simple color still finds eager admirers, who prefer such crude productions and the beginnings of an art just evolving, to the greatest masters of the following epoch—as it seems to me in accordance with a point of view peculiar to themselves. Afterward Zeuxis and Parrhasius, who lived at about the same period—at the time of the Peloponnesian war—greatly promoted art. The former is said to have discovered the laws of light and shadow, the latter to have devoted himself to a careful investigation of lines. Furthermore, Zeuxis gave more content to the limbs and painted them fuller and more portly. In this regard, as is believed, he followed Homer, who delights in the most powerful forms, even in women. Parrhasius, however, has such a determinative influence that he is called the law-giver of painting, because the types of gods and heroes which he created were followed and adopted by others as norms.