History of Sculpture, Painting, and Architecture. J. S. Memes
empire. Yet even in Alexander, the ancient and native arts of Egypt obtained not a patron. The majestic range of temples, palaces, and cities, which bordered the sacred stream of the Nile, furnished so many quarries, of tempting access, whence Alexandria was reared; and the mightiest, as well as most rational trophy of Grecian superiority, received its grandest and most enduring monuments from the stupendous labours of the first age. His successors followed the example; and although, under them, the polished literature of Greece, united with her own subtile philosophy, constituted Alexandria the Athens of the East, yet in sculpture, in architecture, and in religion, to which both were subordinate, the character remained essentially Egyptian, but with certain deviations and additions.
The Roman dominion finally introduced new modifications, or rather mutations, of the ancient art. This epoch may be considered as commencing with the introduction of the Isiac mysteries at Rome; although the principal features by which, as a division in the history of art, it is distinguished, are not decidedly marked prior to the reign of Hadrian. The works of the third, or imitative era, have, in strict propriety, no real connexion with Egyptian sculpture, farther than as it multiplied copies of the ancient forms, with occasional accessions of elegance. During a residence of two years in the East, and by the deification there of his favorite Antinous, Hadrian imbibed a fondness for the arts, and particularly for the statuary of Egypt. But the works which he commanded were in all respects Roman, or rather Grecian, under Egyptian modes. They were indeed most scrupulously modelled after the most ancient and authentic specimens; even the materials were brought from the native quarries, but the sculptors were Greeks or Italians; and the Grecian character of design is visible in every remaining specimen, the merits of which require notice. Nothing, therefore, can be more futile, than from the works of this age to infer the merits or principles of native and ancient art. So far, indeed, does our scepticism here extend, that we doubt if a single statue of genuine and ancient Egyptian workmanship is to be found among the numbers that have been discovered in Italy, and with which Hadrian filled that portion of the empire.
The general conclusion, then, from these remarks, is, that there is but one period of real Egyptian sculpture, and that the genius and character of this indigenous and aboriginal art is to be discovered only in the most ancient monuments, having suffered various changes under the Greeks and under the Romans. In establishing this inference, we have not been guided by the often fanciful, always deceitful, analogies discoverable in the fluctuating style and varying productions of imitation, but have viewed these as directed by the steady operation of the laws and institutions of society, which govern the spirit and tendency of the arts themselves. During an interval of nearly twenty centuries previous to the era of Alexander, though diligently cultivated, sculpture had hardly attained any of the nobler qualities of invention. The system of taste and of government was in fact hostile to improvement in this art beyond a certain limit, or upon any principles, save those fixed on the very threshold of knowledge. The national polity, which will ever be found to guide the national taste, induced a preference of the immense and the durable; hence the grandeur of Egyptian architecture: but in statuary, such a character of design necessarily produced figures rigid and motionless. The essential elements of the grand and the beautiful—breadth and simplicity, are indeed present, but the effect is rarely elicited. The simple is seldom inspired by any feeling of the true, the natural, or the graceful; breadth, unrelieved by symmetry of parts, or expression of details, degenerates into inert magnitude. The colossal forms are the records only of power, of patience, and of labour; not the creations of intelligence and of genius. Sculpture also suffered from peculiar obstacles to its progress. Exclusively attached to the service of religion, its representations were confined to divinities, priests, and kings; personages whose modes and lineaments were unalterably fixed—fixed, too, from types, frequently of the most hideous description, at least ill managed, and little adapted to the objects or spirit of the art. This religion likewise admitted no images of human virtue or sympathy to mingle with its cold obstructions; thus denying to the Egyptian arts a source, which, to those of Greece, proved one of the richest and sweetest veins of ideal composition. The artist, therefore, even had he been allowed to depart from established but imperfect models, possessed no ennobling source whence to create new models of beauty or of grandeur. Imagination wanted materials, which neither the prescribed subject nor living nature, under these restrictions, could supply. Again, sculpture not only laboured under the general disadvantage of hereditary and unchanging professions; a national regulation which repressed every fortunate predilection of genius, but as a security against the possibility of innovation, slaves, educated under the immediate care of the priests, were entrusted with the execution of the most sacred, and, consequently, most important monuments.
In Egyptian sculpture, thus properly understood, little will be discovered of that excellence which has been attributed to its remains. Still there are to be found some first principles of true science; and these are occasionally developed with considerable beauty of detail; always with patient, but inefficient technicality. It is by no means apparent, however, that by the masters of these early ages any theory was observed; certainly the occasional refinement seems rather the result of accident or of individual superiority, than of systematic perceptions, or of transmitted precept. Their best statues have an elevation of seven hands and a half, being divided equally, the torso and limbs having the same length. These proportions are pleasing, and borrowed directly from nature; but they show nothing of that characteristic beauty of physical art, which, in the varied harmony of parts, indicates the capabilities of form. A similar principle regulates the details, which, though brought out with considerable propriety and softness, are yet without precision or anatomical knowledge, especially of internal structure—the heads of the bones, the insertions and terminations of the muscles, never being correctly indicated. Hence the forms appear coarse and inelegant, the limbs heavy and inert, because without vigorous marking on the joints, where the deeper depressions only and the strongest projections are aimed at, not feelingly touched. The attitude, also, is constantly rectilinear, denoting that condition of the art when poverty of source limits its reach of the beautiful by the difficulties of execution. It is, in fact, the first choice of invention rendered permanent by prescriptive institutions. From the curve being thus unknown in the contour, the action is necessarily angular in its direction, unless the movement be parallel to the gravitating line of the figure. Hence the range of action and of attitude is very circumscribed; the arms either hanging close by the sides or crossed at right angles on the breast; or, as a slight variation, one is placed in each posture. Lateral movements in like manner are limited, the statue standing equally poised on both limbs, the feet not exactly opposite, one being in advance, often almost in front of the other. Whether erect, sitting, or kneeling, the action is the same: hence, little of grace or animation of movement is to be found even in the most perfect works; yet there is often to be remarked a grave and staid serenity, neither unpleasing nor devoid of interest. As in the selection of attitude, however, the artist has been guided, not by the beautiful, but by his own timidity and confined resources; so in expression, little beyond a vague and general emotion has been attempted; seldom more, indeed, than might be produced by the symmetrical arrangement of the features. These are flat, the countenance being Ethiopian, and are just sufficiently distinguished for the effect of separation; the depth of shadow is wanting to give contrast and firmness. The eyes, whether long and narrow, the peculiar characteristic of the earliest era, or more full and open, as in the Greco-Egyptian period, are nearly on the general level of the face; the nose is broad and depressed, the lips thick, and always sharp on the outer edge, though often touched with great softness and delicacy; the cheeks, chin, and ears, are large, ill made out, and without feeling. Hence, although the heads are often finished with wonderful labour, the effect is always feeble, while the whole is uniformly surmounted by harsh and disproportionate masses of drapery, overpowering the already too weak expression. The superior beauty of some of the colossal busts may perhaps be rightly attributed to their having been executed as portraits. Conventional art, even in the most skilful hands, is rarely pleasing; nature, even rudely imitated, is ever viewed with a degree of pleasure.
On the methods employed to work materials so unyielding as those of the Egyptian sculptors, it is difficult to propose any decided opinion. On their porphyry, granite, and basalt, modern tools can hardly make impression; yet are the forms, in all instances, highly finished, with angles sharp and unbroken. The latter circumstance, indeed, constitutes a peculiar feature in the works of this country as distinguished from Oriental