Note return — New England Conservatory of Music.

Coming now to the main question, which it is the design of this paper to discuss, the inquiry arises: What of the colossal statue of Liberty as a work of art? For, no matter how noble the motive may be, or how generous the givers, it must after all be subjected to this test. If it is not a work of art, the larger it is, the more offensive it must be. There are not wanting critics who maintain that colossal figures cannot be works of art; they claim that such representations of the human form are unnatural and monstrous, and it is true that they are able to point out some "terrible examples" of modern failures, such, for instance, as the "Bavaria" statue at Munich. But these writers appear to forget that the "Minerva" of the Parthenon and the Olympian Jupiter were the works of the greatest sculptor of ancient times, and that no less a man than Michael Angelo was the author of the "David" and "Moses." It is therefore apparent that those who deny the legitimacy of colossal sculptures in toto go too far; but it is quite true that colossal works have their own laws and are subject to peculiar conditions. Mr. Lesbazeilles7 says that "colossal statuary is in its proper place when it expresses power, majesty, the qualities that inspire respect and fear; but it would be out of place if it sought to please us by the expression of grace.... Its function is to set forth the sublime and the grandiose." The colossi found among the ruins of Egyptian Temples and Palaces cannot be seen without emotion, for if many of them are admirable only because of their great size, still no observer can avoid a feeling of astonishment on account of the vast energy, courage and industry of the men of old who could vanquish such gigantic difficulties. At the same time it will not do to assume that the Egyptian stone cutters were not artists. The great Sphinx of Giseh, huge as it is, is far from being a primitive and vulgar creation. "The portions of the head which have been preserved," says Mr. Charles Blanc, "the brow, the eyebrows, the corners of the eyes, the passage from the temples to the cheek-bones, and from the cheek-bones to the cheek, the remains of the mouth and chin,—all this testifies to an extraordinary fineness of chiselling. The entire face has a solemn serenity and a sovereign goodness." Leaving aside all consideration of the artistic merits of other Egyptian colossi,—those at Memphis, Thebes, Karnac and Luxor, with the twin marvels of Amenophis-Memnon—we turn to the most famous colossus of antiquity, that at Rhodes, only to find that we have even less evidence on which to base an opinion as to its quality than is available in the case of the numerous primitive works of Egypt and of India. We know its approximate dimensions, the material of which it was made, and that it was overthrown by an earthquake, but there seems to be reason to doubt its traditional attitude, and nothing is known as to what it amounted to as a work of art, though it may be presumed that, being the creation of a Greek, it had the merits of its classic age and school. Of the masterpieces of Phidias it may be said that they were designed for the interiors of Temples and were adopted with consummate art to the places they occupied; they have been reconstructed for us from authentic descriptions, and we are enabled to judge concerning that majestic and ponderous beauty which made them the fit presentments of the greatest pagan deities. I need say nothing of the immortal statues by Michael Angelo, and will therefore hasten to consider the modern outdoor colossi which now exist in Europe—the St. Charles Borromeo at Arona, Italy, the Bavaria at Munich, the Arminius in Westphalia, Our Lady of Puy in France. The St. Charles Borromeo, near the shore of Lake Maggiore, dates from 1697, and is the work of a sculptor known as Il Cerano. Its height is 76 feet, or with its pedestal, 114 feet. The arm is over 29 feet long, the nose 33 inches, and the forefinger 6 feet 4 inches. The statue is entirely of hammered copper plates riveted together, supported by means of clamps and bands of iron on an interior mass of masonry. The effect of the work is far from being artistic. It is in a retired spot on a hill, a mile or two from the little village of Arona. The Bavaria, near Munich, erected in 1850, is 51 feet high, on a pedestal about 26 feet high, and is the work of Schwanthaler. It is of bronze and weighs about 78 tons. The location of this monstrous lump of metal directly in front of a building emphasizes its total want of sculptural merit, and makes it a doubly lamentable example of bad taste and bombast. The Arminius colossal, on a height near Detmold in Westphalia, was erected in 1875, is 65 feet high, and weighs 18 tons. The name of the sculptor is not given by any of the authorities consulted, which is perhaps just as well. This statue rests on "a dome-like summit of a monumental structure," and brandishes a sword 24 feet long in one hand. The Virgin of Puy is by Bonassieux, was set up in 1860, is 52 feet high, weighs 110 tons, and stands on a cliff some 400 feet above the town. It is, like the Bavaria, of bronze, cast in sections, and made from cannons taken in warfare. The Virgin's head is surmounted by a crown of stars, and she carries the infant Christ on her left arm. The location of this statue is felicitous, but it has no intrinsic value as an art work. It will be seen, then, that these outdoor colossi of to-day do not afford us much encouragement to believe that Mr. Bartholdi will be able to surmount the difficulties which have vanquished one sculptor after another in their endeavors to perform similar prodigies. Sculpture is perhaps the most difficult of the arts of design. There is an antique statue in the Louvre which displays such wonderful anatomical knowledge, that Reynolds is said to have remarked, "to learn that alone might consume the labor of a whole life." And it is an undeniable fact that enlarging the scale of a statue adds in more than a corresponding degree to the difficulties of the undertaking. The colossi of the ancients were to a great extent designed for either the interiors or the exteriors of religious temples, where they were artfully adapted to be seen in connection with architectural effects. Concerning the sole prominent exception to this rule, the statue of Apollo at Rhodes, we have such scant information that even its position is a subject of dispute. It has been pointed out how the four modern outdoor colossi of Europe each and all fail to attain the requirements of a work of art. All our inquiries, it appears then, lead to the conclusion that Mr. Bartholdi has many chances against him, so far as we are able to learn from an examination of the precedents, and in view of these facts it would be a matter for surprise if the "Liberty" statue should prove to possess any title to the name of a work of art. We reserve a final decision, however, as to this most important phase of the affair, until the statue is in place.