No ideas such as the foregoing--no misgivings suggested by them
probably, troubled the self-complacency of most of these clever
sculptors. Marble, in their view, had no such sanctity as we impute
to it. It was merely a sort of white limestone from Carrara, cut into
convenient blocks, and worth, in that state, about two or three dollars
per pound; and it was susceptible of being wrought into certain shapes
(by their own mechanical ingenuity, or that of artisans in their
employment) which would enable them to sell it again at a much higher
figure. Such men, on the strength of some small knack in handling clay,
which might have been fitly employed in making wax-work, are bold to
call themselves sculptors. How terrible should be the thought that the
nude woman whom the modern artist patches together, bit by bit, from a
dozen heterogeneous models, meaning nothing by her, shall last as long
as the Venus of the Capitol!--that his group of--no matter what, since
it has no moral or intellectual existence will not physically crumble
any sooner than the immortal agony of the Laocoon!
Yet we love the artists, in every kind; even these, whose merits we are
not quite able to appreciate. Sculptors, painters, crayon sketchers, or
whatever branch of aesthetics they adopted, were certainly pleasanter
people, as we saw them that evening, than the average whom we meet
in ordinary society. They were not wholly confined within the sordid
compass of practical life; they had a pursuit which, if followed
faithfully out, would lead them to the beautiful, and always had a
tendency thitherward, even if they lingered to gather up golden dross
by the wayside. Their actual business (though they talked about it very
much as other men talk of cotton, politics, flour barrels, and sugar)
necessarily illuminated their conversation with something akin to the
ideal. So, when the guests collected themselves in little groups, here
and there, in the wide saloon, a cheerful and airy gossip began to be
heard. The atmosphere ceased to be precisely that of common life; a
hint, mellow tinge, such as we see in pictures, mingled itself with the
lamplight.
This good effect was assisted by many curious little treasures of
art, which the host had taken care to strew upon his tables. They
were principally such bits of antiquity as the soil of Rome and its
neighborhood are still rich in; seals, gems, small figures of bronze,
mediaeval carvings in ivory; things which had been obtained at little
cost, yet might have borne no inconsiderable value in the museum of a
virtuoso.
As interesting as any of these relics was a large portfolio of old
drawings, some of which, in the opinion of their possessor, bore
evidence on their faces of the touch of master-hands. Very ragged and
ill conditioned they mostly were, yellow with time, and tattered with
rough usage; and, in their best estate, the designs had been scratched
rudely with pen and ink, on coarse paper, or, if drawn with charcoal or
a pencil, were now half rubbed out. You would not anywhere see rougher
and homelier things than these. But this hasty rudeness made the
sketches only the more valuable; because the artist seemed to have
bestirred himself at the pinch of the moment, snatching up whatever
material was nearest, so as to seize the first glimpse of an idea
that might vanish in the twinkling of an eye. Thus, by the spell of
a creased, soiled, and discolored scrap of paper, you were enabled to
steal close to an old master, and watch him in the very effervescence of
his genius.