Chapter VIII: THE LATEST PERIOD.—In 1832, with the death of Goethe, a new (2)

Capital exists in many forms. It has been generally divided into _fixed_ and _circulating_, though the limits of these divisions are not very precisely defined. The main difference consists in this, that while certain kinds of capital are used only once in the fulfillment of their purposes, other kinds are used repeatedly. Fuel can be burned but once. An axe may serve for years. Circulating capital is of two kinds:

(1) There are the stock and commodities which are to be consumed in reproduction; (_a_) the material out of which the new product is to be made, as lumber for cabinet ware, leather for shoes, etc.; (_b_) food and other provisions for the sustenance of the laborers.

(2) There is the stock of completed commodities on hand and ready for the market. The chairs that are finished and ready for sale in the chair factory are of this character. It is to be observed that the same article may be at one time circulating and at another fixed capital. Thus the chairs just spoken of, while they are in the hands of the manufacturer, or passing through those of the dealers, are circulating capital. It is only when they become _fixed in use_ that their character changes.

Fixed capital consists (1) of all tools, implements, and machinery, used in the trades. Here, too, belong all structures of every sort for productive purposes; (2) all beasts of burden and draft; (3) all improvements of land implied in clearing, fencing, draining, fertilizing, terracing, etc.; (4) all mental acquisitions gained by labor and which give man power for productive results.

Obviously capital, by whomsoever owned, is an advantage to the laborer. But such capital is useless to the owner unless he can unite it with labor. So, too, the ability to labor is of no benefit to the laborer unless he can employ it in connection with capital. Generally the more capital there is in a community, other things being equal, the better it is for the laborer; and the more laborers there are, other things being equal, the better it is for the capitalist. When a factory burns down it may destroy only a small part of the wealth of the owners, and they may not palpably suffer; but it is very likely to deprive the laborers, who are connected with it, of the means of securing their daily sustenance.

There is no natural antagonism of interests between capital and labor, but rather the utmost concord and interdependence. Whatever conflicts arise between the laborers and the capitalists come from the unnatural selfishness and jealousy of the parties concerned.

6. As has been intimated, it is only by application of principles underlying political economy that we come to the conditions of the highest production, or, in other words, find how to satisfy the largest range of desires to the greatest extent at the smallest cost of labor. One of the chief means of effecting this is by _the combination and division of labor_. Recalling what was said concerning association and individuality, we shall see what principles are involved here, and how naturally they came into operation. As there was seen to be no antagonism between the two latter conceptions when carefully analyzed, so there is none, but rather the opposite, between combination and division of labor. It is true that there are instances where combination may take place without division, as when men unite to effect purposes which one could not accomplish except in much more than the proportionate time; as also in some cases to affect purposes which the individual could not effect in any length of time, such as the moving and placing of heavy timbers and stones, the management of ships and railway trains, etc. But for the most part men divide their labor in the process in order that they may combine the result. This is done in two ways:

(1) Men divide up the work of supplying human wants into different trades and occupations, according to their several tastes and aptitudes. Each man needs nearly the same that every other needs. But while each provides for only one kind of want, he provides more than enough to satisfy his own desire in that particular respect, and contributes the overplus to meet that same want in others. As all others do the same, each is contributing to meet the desires of one and all to each. The shoemaker, the tailor, the carpenter, the cabinet-maker, the blacksmith, the weaver, the paper-maker, the tin-man, the miner, the smelter, the painter, the glazier, etc., are all contributing to supply the farmer’s needs, and the farmer is contributing to all their needs. The wants of all are many times more fully met in this way than if each one should undertake to supply all his own wants.

(2) In some complicated trades the work is divided into a number of processes. There are men who could do every one of these parts; but such men are few, and their labor very costly, because some of the parts require rare skill and talent. What is needed is to organize several grades of laborers, so that the physically strong, the intelligent and skillful may have the work that only they can do; the less strong and skillful may find employment in the lighter and easier parts, and so all grades of ability down to the delicate woman or the little child, and up to the most powerful muscle and most advanced intelligence, can find their place. It is almost incredible how great is the increase of productiveness from the mere economical arrangement of workers. It is said that in so simple a matter as the making of pins, where the work is divided into ten processes and properly distributed, that the production will be _two hundred and forty times_ as much as if each man did the whole work on each pin.

This connects itself with another important condition of large production. I mean the diversification of employment in a community. It is only in such a varied industry that all the varied tastes, aptitudes and abilities of society can find scope and adaptation; and without this, production must fall far short of its possibilities. This, too, is required to develop those differences which constitute individuality, and on which association depends.

There are other conditions of enlarged production, such as are implied in freedom, good government, and the moral character of the community, the influence of each of which will easily suggest itself to thoughtful minds.

III.—CONSUMPTION.

1. Consumption is the destruction of values. Production implies consumption. In general, all material is destroyed in entering into new forms of wealth. Thus, leather must be destroyed in order to the production of shoes. Flour must disappear in the manufacture of bread, and wheat in the making of flour. Every kind of implement, or machine or structure is consumed by use. This consumption is immediate, or by a single use; or it is gradual. The food that we eat and the fuel that we burn are examples of the former; tools, bridges, buildings and aqueducts are examples of the latter. It is accomplished in a few months or years; or is protracted through centuries.

2. Consumption is either _voluntary_ or _involuntary_. Of the latter kind we have instances in the _natural decay_ of objects, as in wood and vegetables; the rusting of iron, the mildew and the moth-eating of cotton and woolen fabrics, and the wearing away by attrition of gold, silver, and other metals; also the destruction caused by vermin. Much of this may be prevented by the prudent foresight which sound economy enjoins; yet much loss will inevitably take place. A great deal of consumption is _accidental_. Great destruction is caused by fires, steam-boiler explosions, floods and tornadoes, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions.

3. Voluntary consumption is either _productive_ or _unproductive_. The former is when the material appears in new form and with a higher value, as cloth made into garments and iron into hardware and cutlery. Unproductive consumption occurs, both in the cases before mentioned of natural and accidental consumption, and in cases where gratification of desire is the sole object sought and achieved, as when one eats and drinks simply for the enjoyment, and without reference to the waste of nature or the nourishment of the system.

It is not altogether easy to discriminate between these two kinds of consumption. We readily see the difference between a man’s drinking a quantity of whiskey, not because it will help him in the performance of any duty, but because he likes it, and the scattering of a quantity of seed over the ground in spring. There is no doubt that one act is productive and the other unproductive. But there are cases where the distinction is less clear.

It is not necessarily a case of unproductive consumption when one destroys value for the sake of gratifying some desire. Probably a majority of men eat and drink simply because they desire food and drink, having no thought of any ulterior object. Yet this eating and drinking is absolutely essential to productive labor. The wealth consumed in this way reappears, to a large extent, in the products of human industry.

Still there is much really unproductive consumption; a destruction of value, in the place of which no other value ever appears. There are, for instance, men and women—

* * * “who creep
Into this world to eat and sleep,
And know no reason why they’re born,
But simply to consume the corn.”

Vast quantities of wealth are consumed in riotous living, in greedy and vulgar extravagance, and unmeaning magnificence. There is also much consumption designed to be productive, but failing of its end through misdirection. Large amounts of property are sometimes invested in enterprises which prove failures. This occurs partly from miscalculation or negligence, and partly from a disposition to trust to chances—the gambler’s calculation. In these ways much wealth is consumed with no consequent product.

4. It is not easy to draw the line between the ordinary conveniences of life and its luxuries; nor can it be stated to what extent the latter in any sense of the term are economically allowable. What to one class of persons may be a luxury to another class may be almost a necessity. So what might in one age have been a rare and expensive indulgence, is in a more advanced period among the cheaper and more ordinary commodities. I call special attention to three kinds of consumption:

(1) There is the consumption necessary to life and the performance of productive labor. The word _necessary_ here is used in its liberal rather than its restricted sense. The absolute necessities of human life are very few. It does not even require much to keep a man in working condition. But to keep him where there is a larger kind of living, and where his energies of both body and mind, together with the moral qualities which render him most efficient, are at their best, the consumption must be more generous.

Besides subsistence there must be materials, tools, machines, and a variety of conditions involving the destruction of value. It is desirable to sustain man not as a mere savage, but to give him the largest volume of human life; and the civilized man, it will be admitted, lives a broader life than the savage. We are not to forget that Political Economy aims at the increase of the value of man, more than at the multiplication of material wealth, or the increase of commerce, except as the latter are conditions of the former.

(2) A second kind of consumption is of such articles as minister to bodily enjoyment and meet certain mental appetencies of a lower order. They are not necessary to sustain life, nor to render it more efficient. On the contrary, they often impair the vigor and competence of the person. At the best they simply gratify certain desires without adding anything to the value of the man. To this category belong mere dainty food, gold and jewels, and other ornaments, valued solely because of their showiness and not for any artistic excellence; gay and costly apparel, in which the gayety and the costliness are the main features. These constitute a class of luxuries that are in nearly every sense non-productive. They favorably affect neither the individual nor society, and are for the most part hurtful to both.

(3) But not all consumption, the object of which is to gratify desire, is to be reckoned in this category. There are certain pleasures which ennoble and really enrich those who participate in them. There are desires the gratification of which enlarges the volume of one’s being. They are related not so much to man’s productive capability as to that which is the final cause of all production, and to which all wealth is only a means. The labor, material, implements, and whatever else is consumed in the production of the works or effects of genuine art, result in the most _real wealth_ that exists. By this is meant not merely pictures, statues, books, carved work, tasteful tapestries, and similar objects which can be bought and sold, but also oratorios which you may hear but once; magnificent parks to which you may be admitted, but may never own; great actors and singers whose genius may be exhibited to others, but not possessed by them. It is true that much which properly belongs here may be so consumed as to deserve only a place in the second class; but it may also have those higher and nobler uses which imply production in the best sense.

5. _Public consumption_ is the expenditure of means for society in its aggregate capacity. It has reference principally to the support of those agencies which are implied in the term _government_. The reasons for the necessity of such expenditures have already been given. The purposes to which such consumption is properly applied may be grouped as follows:

(_a_) The support and administration of government. This embraces compensation to executive, legislative and judicial officers, and expenditure for public buildings. (_b_) For works of public convenience. Here are included the paving and lighting of streets, water-works and sewerage. (_c_) For advancing science and promoting intelligence, by means of exploring expeditions, geological surveys, meteorological and astronomical observations, etc. (_d_) For the promotion of popular education. (_e_) For the support of the poor and the relief of the afflicted. (_f_) For national defense.

6. The general law of economical consumption, both individual and public, is that only so much and such a quality should be consumed as is necessary to effect the purpose designed, whether that be further production or individual gratification. It is nearly the same in the case of labor. In relation to the work to be done, the character, ability and skill of the laborer should be considered.

READINGS IN ART.

II.—SCULPTURE: GRECIAN AND ROMAN.

While Egyptian sculpture was losing its individuality, and Assyrian was wearing itself out in excessive ornamentation, there was a new art growing up in the isles and on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean. The early centuries of its growth are hidden from our knowledge. The remains are so scanty, so imperfect, that it is with difficulty that we trace the influences which were molding the art, and the extent to which it was taking hold of the people. Of this primitive period but one single work of sculpture is preserved.

“At Mycenæ, once perhaps in the days of Homer (850-800? B. C.) the most important city of Greece, there are sculptural works in the remains of two lions over the entrance gate. The height of these is about ten feet, and the width fifteen feet. The stone is a greenish limestone. The holes show where the metal pins held the heads, long since decayed. Fragments as they are, they show an Assyrian rather than an Egyptian influence in the strong marking of the muscles and joints, softened though it is by decay, and in the erect attitude, which denotes action, such as is not seen in Egyptian art of this kind. Of this gate of the lions, which has long been known as the most ancient work of early Greek sculpture, it must be noticed that it is not in the round, but only in high relief. And this is the case with all the earliest works, just as it is with the Assyrian sculptures. They tend to show therefore that the Greek sculptor had not yet learnt to model and carve in the round in marble and stone.”

In the objects found by Cesnola in Cyprus, and consisting of statues and other sculptures, incised gems, and metal work of the hammered-out kind, the resemblance to the art of Assyria is remarkable. Three hundred years later than the “gate of lions” are the reliefs discovered at Xanthus in Lycia. “They belong to the Harpy monument—a pier-shaped memorial, along the upper edge of which is a frieze ornamented in relief.” The archaic is still visible in the figures. The drapery falls in long straight folds, with zigzag edges. There is the stiff, inevitable smile of the Egyptian statue. The figures are in motion, but both feet are set flat on the ground. Though in profile the eyes are shown in full. In spite of these primitive absurdities, and the fact that the subjects represent foreign myths, the statues are Greek.

In the fifth century various art schools were founded. “In Argos lived Argeladas (515-455 B. C.), famous for his bronze statues of gods and Olympic victors, and still more famous for his three great pupils, Phidias, Myron, and Polycleitus. In Sicyon there lived, at the same time, Canachus, the founder of a vital and enduring school. He executed the colossal statue of Apollo at Miletus, and was skilled not only in casting bronze but in the use of gold and ivory and wood carving. Ægina, then a commercial island as yet not subjected, was rendered illustrious by the two masters Callon and Onatas, the latter especially known by several groups of bronze statues and warlike scenes from heroic legends. Lastly, Athens possessed among other artists Hegias, the teacher of Phidias and Critius. But all of these old masters were severe, hard, archaic in their treatment.”

But a period approaches when by a freer, happier treatment of their work the way was led to the highest Athenian sculpture. We can but mention the leading sculptors, Calamis of Athens, Pythagoras of Rhegium, and, greatest of all, Myron of Athens. They do not belong to the epoch of the finest Grecian art, but they were the immediate forerunners.

“Now, for the first time in opposition to the barbarians, the national Hellenic mind rose to the highest consciousness of noble independence and dignity. Athens concentrated within herself, as in a focus, the whole exuberance and many-sidedness of Greek life, and glorified it into beautiful utility. The victory of the old time over the new was effected by the power of Phidias, one of the most wonderful artist minds of all times. He lived in the times of Athens’ greatest prosperity, and to him Pericles gave the task of executing the magnificent works he had planned for adorning the city. Among the famous statues which Phidias wrought in carrying out these plans was that of Athene, the patron goddess of the Athenians. The booty which had been taken at Salamis was set aside for this purpose, and forty-four talents, equal to $589,875 of our money, was spent in adorning the statue. The virgin goddess was standing erect; a golden helmet covered her beautiful and earnest head; a coat of mail, with the head of the Medusa carved in ivory concealed her bosom; and long, flowing, golden drapery enveloped her whole figure—a statue of Niké, six feet high, stood on the outstretched hand of the goddess. The undraped parts were formed of ivory; the eyes of sparkling precious stones; the drapery, hair, and weapons of gold. In it Phidias portrayed for all ages the character of Minerva, the serious goddess of wisdom, the mild protectress of Attica.”

Still more than in this statue the austere maidenliness of the goddess was elevated into noble, intellectual beauty in a figure of Athene placed on the Acropolis by the Lemnians; so much so that an old epigram instituted a comparison with the Aphrodite of Praxiteles of Cnidus, and calls Paris “a mere cow-driver for not giving the apple to Athene.”

The still more famous colossal statue by Phidias, the Zeus at Olympia in Elis, was his last great work. It was made between B. C. 438, the date of the consecration of the Parthenon statue, and B. C. 432, the year of his death, at Elis.

This was a seated statue of ivory and gold, 55 feet high, including the throne. Strabo remarks, that “if the god had risen he would have carried away the roof,” and the height of the interior was about 55 feet; the temple being built on the model of the Parthenon at Athens, which was 64 feet to the point of the pediment.

The statue was seen in its temple by Paulus Æmilius in the second century B. C., who declared the god himself seemed present to him. Epictetus says that “it was considered a misfortune for any one to die without having seen the masterpiece of Phidias.” In the time of Julian the Apostate (A. D. 361-363) “it continued to receive the homage of Greece in spite of every kind of attack which the covert zeal of Constantine had made against polytheism, its temples, and its idols.” This is the last notice we possess giving authentic information of this grand statue. Phidias is said to have executed many other statues: thirteen in bronze from the booty of Marathon, consecrated at Delphi under Cimon—statues of Apollo, Athene, and Miltiades, with those ten heroes who had given their names to the ten Athenian tribes (Eponymi); an Athene for the city of Pellene in gold and ivory; another for the Platæans, of the spoils of Marathon, made of wood gilt, with the head, feet, and hands of Pentelic marble. “These,” M. Rochette says, “may be considered the productions of his youth.”

The great national work of the time, however, was the Parthenon, and the ornamentation was entrusted to Phidias. Not that all the wonderful statues were executed by him alone. He had his pupils and associates. The most famous of these seems to have been Alcamenes, a versatile and imaginative disciple of his master. After him were Agoracritus and Pæonius. There were many others who assisted in the work. The outside of the temple was ornamented with three classes of sculpture: (1) The sculptures of the pediments, being independent statues resting on the cornices. (2) The groups of the metopes, ninety-two in number. These were in high relief. (3) The frieze around the upper border of the cella of the Parthenon contained a representation in low relief of the Panathenaic procession. All these classes of sculpture were in the highest style of the art.

The influence of the sculptures of the Parthenon is seen in many directions in the temple of Apollo at Phigalia, the temple of Niké-Apteros on the Acropolis at Athens, at Halicarnassus, etc.

“The works which are known to have been executed by the sculptors contemporary with Phidias, and by others who formed what is spoken of as ‘the later Athenian school,’ did not approach the great examples of the Parthenon. Sculpture then reached the highest point in the grandest style, whether in the treatment of the statue in the round, or of bas-relief as in the frieze, or alto-relievo as in the metopes. As to the chryselephantine statues of Phidias, it may be concluded without hesitation that though we are compelled to rely upon descriptions only, they must have been works of the great master even more beautiful than the marbles.”

At Argos during the time of Phidias, a somewhat younger school flourished under the leadership of Polycleitus. “The aspiration of Polycleitus was to depict the perfect beauty of the human form in calm repose.” His Amazon and Juno represent best his style; so perfect are all his works in their proportions that the invention of the canon has been assigned to him.

In the works of the later Athenian school, at the head of which were Scopas and Praxiteles, the sublime ideal of Greek art was no longer sustained by any new creations that can be compared with those of the Phidian school; no rivalry with those great masters seemed to be attempted. The severe and grand was beyond the comprehension, or probably uncongenial to the spirit of the age, which inclined toward the poetic, the graceful, the sentimental and romantic. The whole range of the beautiful myths found abundant illustration in forms entirely different from the ancient archaic representations, and in these the fancy of the sculptor was allowed the fullest and freest indulgence. Nymphs, nereids, mænads, and bacchantes occupied the chisel of the sculptor in every form of graceful beauty.

After this epoch, to which so many of the fine statues belong—repetitions in marble of famous originals in bronze—Greek sculpture took another phase in accordance with the social life and the taste of the age, which inclined toward the feeling for display that arose with the domination of the Macedonian power, brought to its height by the conquests and ambition of Alexander the Great. Lysippus, a self-taught sculptor of Sicyon, was the leading artist of his time. He was evidently a student of nature and individual character, as he was the first to become celebrated for his portraits, especially those of Alexander. He departed from the severe and grand style, and in the native conceit of all self-taught men sneered at the art of Polycleitus in the well-known saying recorded of him, “Polycleitus made men as they were, but I make them as they ought to be.” He seems to have been the first great naturalistic sculptor.

Rhodes had unquestionable right to give her name to a school of sculpture, both from the great antiquity of the origin of the culture of the arts in the island, and from the number, more than one hundred, of colossal statues in bronze. The Rhodian school is also distinguished by those remarkable examples of sculpture in marble of large groups of figures—the Toro Farnese and the Laocoon. In these works there is the same feeling for display of artistic accomplishment that has been noticed as characteristic of the Macedonian age, with that effort at the pathetic, especially in the Laocoon, which belongs to the finer style of the later Athenian school as displayed in the works of Scopas and Praxiteles, in the Niobe figures and others.

At Pergamus, another school allied in style to that of Ephesus arose, of which the chief sculptor was Pyromachus, who, according to Pliny, flourished in the 120th Olympiad, B. C. 300-298. A statue of Æsculapius by Pyromachus was a work of some note in the splendid temple at Pergamus, and is to be seen on the coins of that city. It is also conjectured that the well-known Dying Gladiator is a copy of a bronze by Pyromachus. The vigorous naturalistic style of these statues, surpassing anything of preceding schools in the effort at expression, may be taken as characteristic of the school of Pergamus, then completely under Roman influence, and destined to become more so. But all question as to the nature of the sculptures was set at rest by the discovery of many large works in high relief by the German expedition at Pergamus in 1875. These are now in the Museum at Berlin. They are of almost colossal proportions, representing, as Pliny described, the wars of Attalus and the Battles with the Giants. The nude figure is especially marked by the effort to display artistic ability as well as great energy in the action. In these points there is observable a connection with the well-known and very striking example of sculpture of this order—the Fighting Gladiator, or more properly the Warrior of Agasias, who, as is certain from the inscription on his work, was an Ephesian.

The equally renowned statue of the Apollo Belvedere, finely conceived and admirably modeled as it undoubtedly is, bears the stamp of artistic display which removes it from the style of the great classic works of sculpture.

The history of Roman sculpture is soon told. If it have any real roots, they are to be traced in the ancient Etruscan; for all that was really characteristic in it as art is associated with that style, in that intense naturalism which became developed so strikingly in the production of portrait statues and busts, and in those great monumental works in bas-relief which are marked by the same strong feeling for descriptive representation of the most direct and realistic kind, upon their triumphal columns and arches.

As has already been stated, early Roman sculpture, if such it can be called, was entirely the work of Etruscan artists, employed by the wealth of Rome to afford the citizens that display of pomp in their worship of the gods and the triumphs of their warriors which their ambition demanded. All important works were made of colossal size. Some of the early Roman (quasi Etruscan) statues spoken of by the historians are a bronze colossus of Jupiter, an Etruscan bronze colossus of Apollo, eighty feet high, in the Palatine Library of the temple of Augustus. A portrait statue of an orator in the toga, and a chimæra, both of bronze, are in the Florence Museum. Sculpture, from the love of it as a means of expressing the beautiful in the ideal form of the deities or the heroic and the pathetic of humanity, never existed as a growth of Roman civilization. The inclination of the Roman mind was toward social, municipal, and imperial system and ordering; in this direction the Romans were inventors and improvers upon that which they borrowed from the Greeks. But in art they began by hiring, and they ended by debasing the work of the hired.

They took away the bronze statues of Greece as trophies of conquest, covered them with gold, and set them up in the palaces and public places of Rome. They subsidized the sculptors of Greece, who under Roman influence had fallen away from their high traditions; they did nothing for the sake of art, but simply manufactured, as it were, copies and imitations of Greek statues for their own use. Happily we have to be grateful for the fact, though we can not honor the motive. Had it not been for this bestowal of their wealth in the gratification of their taste for luxury and display, many of the renowned statues of ancient Greek art would have been known only by the vague mention of them by Pausanias and Pliny, or the early Christian writers of the Church, or the poetic allusions of the Greek anthologists and the Latin epigrammatists.

The Column of Trajan was the great work of Apollodorus, the favorite architect of the emperor, dedicated A. D. 114. It is 10½ feet in diameter and 127 feet high, made of thirty-four blocks of white marble, twenty-three being in the shaft, nine in the base, which is finely sculptured, and two in the capital and _torus_. The reliefs at the base are smaller than those toward the top, being two feet high, increasing to nearly four as they approach the summit; this was, of course, to enable the more distant subjects to be seen equally well with the others, a singular illustration of the intensely practical turn of Roman art in its application. There are about 2,500 figures, not counting horses, representing the battles and sieges of the Dacian war. The column of M. Aurelius Antoninus, erected A. D. 174, is similar in height, but the sculptures, although in higher relief, are not so good. They represent the conquest of the Marcomans.

The Augustan age (B. C. 36-A. D. 14), favorable as it was to literature, only contributed to the multiplying of copies of the Greek statues, such as we see in so many instances, some of which are of great excellence, and inestimable as reliable evidence of fine Greek sculpture. These copies were sometimes varied by the sculptor in some immaterial point of detail.

Nero (A. D. 54-68) is said to have adorned his Golden House with no less than 500 statues, brought from Delphi. In the Baths of Titus, still in existence (they were built on the ground of the house and gardens of Mæcenas), many valuable statues have been discovered. The Arch of Titus furnishes an excellent example of bas-relief of that time, in it the golden candlestick and other spoils from the temple of Jerusalem are shown.

Hadrian (A. D. 117-138) encouraged the reproduction of the Greek statues, with great success as regards execution, for his famous villa at Tivoli, and besides these are the statues of his favorite Antinous, which are the most original works of the time. Hadrian’s imperial and liberal promotion of sculpture, gave an immense impetus to the production of statues of every form. All the towns of Greece which he favored made bronze portrait statues of him, which were placed in the temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, and the enclosure round more than half a mile in extent was filled with its many statues.

The learned Varro speaks of Arcesilaus as the sculptor of Venus Genetrix, in the forum of Cæsar, and of a beautiful marble group of Cupids playing with a lioness, some leading her, others beating her with their sandals, others offering her wine to drink from horns.

Under the Antonines arose the outrageous fashion of representing noble Romans and their wives as deities, and this was carried so far that the men are not unfrequently nude as if heroic. The bas-reliefs on the arch of Septimus Severus at Rome, and that which goes by the name of Constantine—though made chiefly of reliefs belonging to one raised in honor of Trajan—show the poor condition of sculpture at that time. The numerous sarcophagi, some made by Greek sculptors for the Roman market, and others by those working at Rome, are other examples of the feeble style of imitators and workmen actuated by no knowledge or feeling of art. Some of these are still to be seen in the collections at Rome, with mythological subjects, the heads being left unfinished, so that the portraits of the family could be carved when required.

The rule of Constantine was, however, far more disastrous to art as the seat of the Empire was removed to Byzantium. Most of the finest statues accumulated in Rome were removed there only to be lost forever in the plundering of wars and the fanatical rage of the Christian iconoclasts. While destroying the statues of the gods, they may have spared those which commemorated agonistic victors; but we may be sure that nearly all the works in metal which the Christians spared were melted down by the barbarous hordes of Gothic invaders, who under Alaric occupied the Morea about A. D. 395.

With this glance at the complete decadence of art and the coming darkness that preceded its revival, we approach the subject of sculpture as connected with the rise of ecclesiastical religious art, which is necessarily reserved for further consideration.

SELECTIONS FROM AMERICAN LITERATURE.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

I recommend the study of Franklin to all young people;
he was a real philanthropist, a wonderful man. It was
said that it was honor enough to any one country to
have produced such a man as Franklin.—_Sydney Smith._

A man who makes a great figure in the learned world;
and who would still make a greater figure for
benevolence and candor were virtue as much regarded in
this declining age as knowledge.—_Lord Kaimes._

He was a great experimental philosopher, a consummate
politician, and a paragon of common sense.—_Edinburgh
Review._

He has in no instance exhibited that false dignity by
which science is kept aloof from common application;
and he has sought rather to make her an useful inmate
and servant in the common habitations of man, than
to preserve her merely as an object of admiration in
temples and palaces.—_Sir Humphrey Davy._

His style has all the vigor, and even conciseness
of Swift, without any of his harshness. It is in no
degree more flowery, yet both elegant and lively.—_Lord
Jeffrey._

When he left Passy it seemed as if the village had lost
its patriarch.—_Thomas Jefferson._

Extracts From Poor Richard’s Almanac.

“Love well, whip well.” “The proof of gold is fire; the proof of woman, gold; the proof of man, a woman.” “There is no little enemy.” “Necessity never made a good bargain.” “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.” “Deny self for self’s sake.” “Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee.” “Here comes the orator, with his flood of words and his drop of reason.” “Sal laughs at everything you say; why? because she has fine teeth.” “An old young man will be a young old man.” “He is no clown that drives the plow, but he that does clownish things.” “Diligence is the mother of good luck.” “Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it.” “He that can have patience can have what he will.” “Good wives and good plantations are made by good husbands.” “God heals, the doctor takes the fee.” “The noblest question in the world is, What good may I do in it?” “There are three faithful friends, an old wife, an old dog, and ready money.” “Who has deceived thee so oft as thyself?” “Fly pleasures, and they will follow you.” “Hast thou virtue? Acquire also the graces and beauties of virtue.” “Keep your eyes wide open before marriage; half shut afterward.” “As we must account for every idle word, so we must for every idle silence.” “Search others for their virtues, thyself for thy vices.” “Grace thou thy house, and let not that grace thee.” “Let thy child’s first lesson be obedience, and the second will be what thou will.” “Let thy discontents be thy secrets.” “Happy that nation, fortunate that age, whose history is not diverting.” “There are lazy minds, as well as lazy bodies.” “Tricks and treachery are the practice of fools, who have not wit enough to be honest.” “Let no pleasure tempt thee, no profit allure thee, no ambition corrupt thee, no example sway thee, no persuasion move thee, to do anything which thou knowest to be evil; so shalt thou always live jollily, for a good conscience is a continual Christmas.”

“Altho’ thy teacher act not as he preaches,
Yet ne’ertheless, if good, do what he teaches;
Good counsel failing men may give, for why?
He that’s aground knows where the shoal doth lie.
My old friend Berryman, oft when alive,
Taught others thrift, himself could never thrive.
Thus like the whetstone, many men are wont
To sharpen others while themselves are blunt.”

Poetry for December, 1834.

“He that for the sake of drink neglects his trade,
And spends each night in taverns till ’tis late,
And rises when the sun is four hours high,
And ne’er regards his starving family,
God in his mercy may do much to save him,
But, woe to the poor wife, whose lot it is to have him.”

An Astronomical Notice.

During the first visible eclipse _Saturn_ is retrograde: for which reason the crabs will go sidelong, and the rope-makers backward. Mercury will have his share in these affairs, and so confound the speech of the people, that when a _Pennsylvanian_ would say _panther_, he shall say _painter_. When a _New Yorker_ thinks to say _this_, he shall say _diss_, and the people in _New England_ and _Cape May_ will not be able to say _cow_ for their lives, but will be forced to say _keow_, by a certain involuntary twist in the root of their tongues. No _Connecticut man_ nor _Marylander_ will be able to open his mouth this year but _sir_ shall be the first or last syllable he pronounces, and sometimes both. Brutes shall speak in many places, and there will be about seven and twenty irregular verbs made this year if grammar don’t interpose. Who can help these misfortunes? This year the stone-blind shall see but very little; the deaf shall hear but poorly; and the dumb sha’n’t speak very plain. As to old age, it will be incurable this year, because of the years past. And toward the fall some people will be seized with an unaccountable inclination to roast and eat their own ears: Should this be called madness, doctors? I think not. But the worst disease of all will be a most horrid, dreadful, malignant, catching, perverse, and odious malady, almost epidemical, insomuch that many shall seem mad upon it. I quake for very fear when I think on’t; for I assure you very few shall escape this disease, which is called by the learned Albromazer—_Lacko’mony_.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

His papers which have been preserved show how he gained
the power of writing correctly—always expressing
himself with clearness and directness, often with
felicity and grace.—_George Bancroft._

No one who has not been in England can have an idea of
the admiration expressed among all parties for General
Washington.—_Rufus King, 1797._

* * * The great central figure of that unparalleled
group, that “noble army” of chieftains, sages,
and patriots, by whom the revolution was
accomplished.—_Edward Everett._

He had in his composition a calm which gave him
in moments of highest excitement the power
of self-control, and enabled him to excel in
patience.—_Bancroft._

Account of the Battle of Trenton.

HEADQUARTERS, MORRISTOWN, Dec. 27, 1776.

_To the President of Congress_:

SIR—I have the pleasure of congratulating you upon the success of an enterprise which I had formed against a detachment of the enemy lying in Trenton, and which was executed yesterday morning.

The evening of the twenty-fifth I ordered the troops intended for this service to parade back of McKonkey’s ferry, that they might begin to pass as soon as it grew dark, imagining we should be able to throw them all over, with the necessary artillery, by twelve o’clock, and that we might easily arrive at Trenton by five in the morning, the distance being about nine miles. But the quantity of ice made that night impeded the passage of the boats so much that it was three o’clock before the artillery could all be got over; and near four before the troops took up their line of march.

This made me despair of surprising the town, as I well knew we could not reach it before the day was fairly broke. But as I was certain there was no making a retreat without being discovered, and harassed on re-passing the river, I determined to push on at all events. I formed my detachment into two divisions, one to march by the lower or river road, the other by the upper or Pennington road. As the divisions had nearly the same distance to march, I ordered each of them, immediately upon forcing the out-guards, to push directly into the town, that they might charge the enemy before they had time to form.

The upper division arrived at the enemy’s advanced post exactly at eight o’clock: and in three minutes after I found, from the fire on the lower road, that that division had also got up. The out-guards made but small opposition, though, for their numbers, they behaved very well, keeping up a constant retreating fire from behind houses. We presently saw their main body formed; but from their motions, they seemed undetermined how to act.

Being hard pressed by our troops, who had already got possession of their artillery, they attempted to file off by a road on their right, leading to Princeton. But, perceiving their intention, I threw a body of troops in their way; which immediately checked them. Finding, from our disposition, that they were surrounded, and that they must inevitably be cut to pieces if they made any further resistance, they agreed to lay down their arms. The number that submitted in this manner was twenty-three officers and eight hundred and eighty-six men. Colonel Rahl, the commanding officer, and seven others, were found wounded in the town. I do not exactly know how many they had killed; but I fancy not above twenty or thirty, as they never made any regular stand. Our loss is very trifling indeed—only two officers and one or two privates wounded.

I find that the detachment consisted of the three Hessian regiments of Lanspach, Kniphausen, and Rahl, amounting to about fifteen hundred men, and a troop of British light horse; but immediately upon the beginning of the attack, all those who were not killed or taken pushed directly down toward Bordentown. These would likewise have fallen into our hands could my plan have been completely carried into execution.

General Ewing was to have crossed before day at Trenton ferry, and taken possession of the bridge leading out of town; but the quantity of ice was so great that, though he did every thing in his power to effect it, he could not get over. This difficulty also hindered General Cadwallader from crossing with the Pennsylvania militia from Bristol. He got part of his foot over; but finding it impossible to embark his artillery, he was obliged to desist.

I am fully confident that, could the troops under Generals Ewing and Cadwallader have passed the river, I should have been able, with their assistance, to have driven the enemy from all their posts below Trenton. But the numbers I had with me being inferior to theirs below me, and a strong battalion of light infantry being at Princeton above me, I thought it most prudent to return the same evening with the prisoners and the artillery we had taken. We found no stores of any consequence in the town.

In justice to the officers and men, I must add that their behavior upon this occasion reflects the highest honor upon them. The difficulty of passing the river in a very severe night, and their march through a violent storm of snow and hail, did not in the least abate their ardor; but when they came to the charge each seemed to vie with the other in pressing forward; and were I to give a preference to any particular corps I should do great injustice to the others.

Colonel Baylor, my first aid-de-camp, will have the honor of delivering this to you; and from him you may be made acquainted with many other particulars. His spirited behavior upon every occasion requires me to recommend him to your particular notice.

I have the honor to be, etc.,

G. W.

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

As a composition, the Declaration [of Independence]
is Mr. Jefferson’s. It is the production of his mind,
and the high honor of it belongs to him clearly and
absolutely. To say that he performed his great work
well would be doing him an injustice. To say that
he did excellently well, admirably well, would be
inadequate and halting praise. Let us rather say
that he so discharged the duty assigned him that all
Americans may well rejoice that the work of drawing
the title-deed of their liberties devolved upon
him.—_Daniel Webster._

After Washington and Franklin there is no person who
fills so eminent a place among the great men of America
as Jefferson.—_Lord Brougham._

Washington.

His mind was great and powerful, without being of the very first order; his penetration strong, though not so acute as that of a Newton, Bacon, or Locke; and as far as he saw, no judgment was ever sounder. It was slow in operation, being little aided by invention or imagination, but sure in conclusion. Hence the common remark of his officers, of the advantage he derived from councils of war, where, hearing all suggestions, he selected whatever was best; and certainly no general ever planned his battles more judiciously. But if deranged during the course of the action, if any member of his plan was dislocated by sudden circumstances, he was slow in a re-adjustment. The consequence was, that he often failed in the field, and rarely against an enemy in station, as at Boston and York. He was incapable of fear, meeting personal dangers with the calmest unconcern. Perhaps the strongest feature in his character was prudence, never acting until every circumstance, every consideration was maturely weighed; refraining if he saw a doubt, but when once decided, going through with his purpose, whatever obstacles opposed. His integrity was most pure, his justice the most inflexible I have ever known; no motives of interest or consanguinity, of friendship or hatred, being able to bias his decision. He was, indeed, in every sense of the word, a wise, a good, and a great man. His temper was naturally irritable and high-toned; but reflection and resolution had obtained a firm and habitual ascendency over it. If ever, however, it broke its bounds, he was most tremendous in his wrath. In his expenses he was honorable, but exact; liberal in contributions to whatever promised utility; but frowning and unyielding on all visionary projects, and all unworthy calls on his charity. His heart was not warm in its affections; but he exactly calculated every man’s value, and gave him a solid esteem proportioned to it. His person, you know, was fine, his stature exactly what one would wish; his deportment easy, erect, and noble, the best horseman of his age, and the most graceful figure that could be seen on horseback. Although in the circle of his friends, where he might be unreserved with safety, he took a free share in conversation, his colloquial talents were not above mediocrity, possessing neither copiousness of ideas nor fluency of words. In public, when called on for a sudden opinion, he was unready, short, and embarrassed. Yet he wrote readily, rather diffusely, in an easy and correct style. This he had acquired by conversation with the world, for his education was merely reading, writing, and common arithmetic, to which he added surveying at a later day. His time was employed in action chiefly, reading little, and that only in agriculture and English history. His correspondence became necessarily extensive, and with journalizing his agricultural proceedings, occupied most of his leisure hours within doors. On the whole, his character was, in its mass, perfect, in nothing bad, in a few points indifferent; and it may truly be said, that never did nature and fortune combine more completely to make a man great, and to place him in the same constellation with whatever worthies have merited from man an everlasting remembrance. For his was the singular destiny and merit of leading the armies of his country successfully through an arduous war, for the establishment of its independence; of conducting its councils through the birth of a government, new in its forms and principles, until it had settled down into a quiet and orderly train; and of scrupulously obeying the laws through the whole of his career, civil and military, of which the history of the world furnishes no other example.

THOUGHTS FROM WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING.

ON BOOKS.—It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds and these invaluable means of communication are in the reach of all. In the best books great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours.

God be thanked for books! They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages.

Books are the true levelers. They give to all who will faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence of the best and greatest of our race. No matter how poor I am. No matter though the prosperous of my time will not enter my obscure dwelling. If the sacred writers will enter and take up their abode under my roof, if Milton will cross my threshhold to sing to me of paradise, and Shakspere to open to me the worlds of imagination and the workings of the human heart, and Franklin to enrich me with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine for want of intellectual companionship, and I may become a cultivated man, though excluded from what is called the best society in the place where I live.

ON LABOR.—Manual labor is a great good, but only in its just proportions. In excess it does great harm. It is not a good when made the sole work of life. It must be joined with higher means of improvement or it degrades instead of exalting. Man has a various nature which requires a variety of occupation and discipline for its growth. Study, meditation, society, and relaxation should be mixed up with his physical toil. He has intellect, heart, imagination, taste, as well as bones and muscles; and he is grievously wronged when compelled to exclusive drudgery for bodily subsistence.