CHAPTER XII. Homer elaborates two kinds of beings and actions, visible and invisible. This distinction cannot be indicated by painting: in it everything is visible, and visible in but one way. When, therefore, Count Caylus continues the pictures of invisible actions in an unbroken series with those of the visible; and when, in those of mixed actions, in which both visible and invisible beings take part, he does not, and perhaps cannot, specify how these last, (which we only, who are contemplating the picture, ought to see in it), are to be introduced, so that the persons in the painting itself should not see them, or, at least, should not appear as if they necessarily did so. When, I say, Caylus does this, the whole series, as well as many single pieces, necessarily becomes in the highest degree confused, incomprehensible, and contradictory. Still, ultimately, it would be possible, with book in hand, to remedy this fault. The following evil is the greatest; when painting wipes away the distinction between visible and invisible beings, it at the same time destroys all those characteristic traits, by which the higher order is elevated above the lower. For instance; when the gods, after disputing over the destiny of the Trojans, at length appeal to arms, the whole of this contest is waged invisibly in the poet; and this invisibility permits the imagination to magnify the scene, and allows it free scope for picturing to itself, as it ever will, the persons and actions of the gods, as far greater and far more exalted than those of ordinary humanity. But painting must adopt a visible scene, the different necessary parts of which become the standard for the persons who act in it. A standard, which the eye has ever before it, and by whose want of proportion to the higher beings, these last, which in the poet were great, are, upon the artist's canvass, converted into monsters. Minerva, against whom, in this contest, Mars assays the first assault, steps backwards, and, with mighty hand, seizes from the ground, a large, black, rough, stone, which in olden times the united hands of men had rolled there for a landmark.-Iliad, P. xxi. 493. ἡ δ ̓ ἀναχασσαμένη λίθον εἵλετο χειρὶ παχείῃ, In order fully to realize the size of this stone, we must recollect, that, though Homer describes his heroes as being as strong again as the strongest men of his own time, he tells us that even they were still further surpassed by the men, whom Nestor had known in his youth. Now, I ask, if Minerva hurls a stone, which no single man, even of the younger days of Nestor, could set up for a landmark,—if, I ask, Minerva hurls such a stone as this at Mars, of what stature ought the goddess herself to be represented? If her stature is proportioned to the size of the stone, the marvellous disappears at once. A man, who is three times the size that I am, naturally can hurl a stone three times as great as I can. On the other hand, should the stature of the goddess not be proportionate to the size of the stone, there arises in the painting an evident improbability, the offensiveness of which will not be removed by the cold reflection, that a goddess must be possessed of superhuman strength. Where I see a greater effect, there I expect to see more powerful causes. And Mars, overthrown by this mighty stone, ἑπτὰ δ ̓ ἐπέσχε πελεθρα, covered seven hides. It is impossible for the painter to invest the god with this extraordinary size; but, if he does not, then it is not Mars who is lying on the ground; at least, not the Mars of Homer, but a common warrior(33). Longinus says, that, while reading Homer, he often felt, that the poet appeared to raise his men to gods, and reduce his gods to men; painting effects this reduction. In it everything, that, in the poet, raises the gods above god-like men, utterly vanishes. The strength, size, and swiftness, of which Homer always bestowed upon his deities a much higher, and more extraordinary degree than he ever attributes. to his most eminent heroes(34), must sink, in the painting, to the common level of humanity; and Jupiter and Agamemnon, Apollo and Achilles, Ajax and Mars, become exactly the same beings; and can be recognised by nothing, but their outward conventional symbols. The means, used by painters, of giving us to understand, that this or that object in their compositions must be considered as invisible, is a thin cloud, with which they surround it on the side, that is turned towards the other persons in the scene. This cloud also appears to have been borrowed from Homer. For if, in the tumult of the fight, one of the more important heroes falls into a danger, from which none but divine power can save him, the poet represents him, as being enveloped by the rescuing divinity in a thick cloud, or in night, and so carried off,-e. g. as Paris is by Venus, Idæus by Neptune, and Hector by Apollo. And Caylus, when he sketches paintings of such occurrences, never fails to recommend to the poet the introduction of this mist and cloud. Yet, surely, it is manifest to all, that, in the poet, concealment in mist and night is а Iliad, E. v. 23. Iliad Y. xx. 444. not intended to be anything more than a poetical expression for rendering invisible. I have always, therefore, been much astonished to find it realized, and an actual cloud introduced into the painting, behind which, as behind a screen, the hero stands concealed from his enemy. Such, assuredly, was not the intention of the poet. It is stepping beyond the limits of painting. For the cloud is here a real hieroglyphic, a mere symbolical token, which does not make the rescued hero invisible, but points out to you, that you must represent him to yourself as such. It is here no better than the labels with inscriptions, which are placed in the mouths of the figures in old gothic paintings. It is true, that when Hector is being carried off by Apollo, Homer represents Achilles as making three thrusts with his lance into the thick mist at him-τρὶς δ' ἠέρα τύψε βαθεῖαν But, in the language of the poet, this means nothing more than that Achilles had become so furious, that he made three thrusts with his lance, before he perceived that his enemy was no longer in his presence. Achilles saw no actual mist; and the power, which the gods possessed of rendering the objects of their protection invisible, lay not in a mist, but in the rapidity with which they bore them away. But, in order to express, at the same time, that this abduction was performed with such celerity, that no human eye could follow |