I will quote here a Protestant writer's view of the difference in design between the Greek and Gothic building:
"The essential, germinal principle of difference between the temple and the cathedral is, that the former is built for exterior effect, the latter for interior. On occasions of worship, the multitude surrounded one edifice, but filled the other. The temple has, as regards architectural impression, really no interior at all; for the small cella or naos which hid the penetralia entered not at all into the effect of the structure. From this difference in character and design, the whole diversity between the characters of Greek and Gothic forms and decorations may be derived. To the former, viewed from without, an aspect of elevated repose must belong; and all the decorations must be superficial. The elaboration of an impressive and inspiring interior led necessarily to soaring height and a general upwardness of all the courses; to long-drawn vistas, side by side; to grand portals to give entrance, and a multitude of windows to give light; and to a general style of decoration, concave, receding, and perspective."
The same writer says:
"If England's cathedrals are inferior to those of France, they are more beautiful than anything else in the world. Durham and Ely, and Winchester and Salisbury, what needs the soul of man more impressive, glorious, transcendent, than these?"
Another competent authority—also a Protestant—says:
"There is infinitely more scientific skill displayed in a Gothic cathedral than in all the buildings of Greece and Rome; nor could these latter have resisted the shock of time so long, had they not been almost solid masses of stone, with no more cavity than was indispensably necessary."
Let us examine the principle of delineation in the human form—that which has ever captivated the efforts of the greatest artists. In the classic execution of the highest human types there is an evident straining after the expression of something above the actual. Sir Charles Bell has shown that this effect is attained by a refined species of exaggeration. It consists in exaggerating whatever distinguishes man from the animals in enlarging, for example, the facial angle. It is a further remove from the animals than man is, but in the same direction. The Hercules, for instance, is an embodiment of the central form of strength—it is an exaggeration of muscular development. The highest expression is the embodiment of human passion. In this way the Greeks attained the delineation of the superhuman. Under the tutorage of Catholicity the human lineaments achieved the expression of the supernatural. One was the idealization of nature; the other the supernaturalization of humanity. Of this latter classic art had no conception; while therefore it may equal or surpass Catholic art in execution, it must fall far below in its ideal. [Footnote 138]
[Footnote 138: In this connection let us record a few remarks from the ablest writers upon the subject.
Solger has said: "Philosophy can create nothing: it can only understand. It can create neither the religious inspiration nor the artistic genius: but it can detect and bring to light all that is contained therein."
Hegel, in stating the relation of art, religion, and philosophy, says:
"Art fulfils its highest mission when it has established itself with religion and philosophy in the one circle common to all, and is merely a method of revealing the godlike to man, of giving utterance to the deepest interests, the most comprehensive truths pertaining to mankind. Nations have deposited the most holy, rich, and intense of their ideas in works of art, and art is the key to the philosophy and religion of a nation."
Schilling, with his peculiar theory, says: "That artist is to be accounted happy to whom the gods have granted the creative spirit. When the artist recognizes the aspect and being of the indwelling creative idea, and produces it, he makes the individual a world in itself, a species, an eternal type."
Not one of these three statements is beyond the reach of cavil or of just exception; but, for the purpose in hand, we see that the first says that "philosophy can create nothing;" the second, that "art is a method of revealing the godlike to man, and of giving utterance to his most holy and intense ideas;" and the third, that it involves a gift or endowment of the "creative spirit.">[
Finally, all art is expression. Given a knowledge and mastery of the instruments of expression, and the thought will determine its character; the nature of the thought expressed depends upon the conceiving mind; the highest conception of the mind is the offspring of religious affection, the Catholic is the true religion; therefore the expression of Catholic genius is the summit of art. It is by no means a necessity that the soul shall express itself under sensuous forms; but to all outward manifestation a power over the instrument is a condition—in which sense the body is itself an instrumentality. What the soul expresses must be thought—either its own, or another's—it must either imitate or originate; imitation is merely repetition, and is in the power of a mirror. So that what in every art cannot be taught is expression. The highest effort of the soul is spontaneous and original. Herein we find the superiority—visible at a glance—of Catholic architecture over the Greek orders, of Catholic delineations of the human countenance over the finest models of antiquity.