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September 17, 1853,] THE LEADER. \ 907
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CHRISTIE JOHNSTONE, AND CIIAItLES DELMER...
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Buskin In Venice. The Stones Of Venice. ...
pointed arch and the groined roof , because , while we look habitually out of square windows and live under flat ceilings , we meet with the more beautiful forms in . the ruins of our abbeys . But when those abbeys were built , the pointed arch was used for every shop door , as well as that of the cloister , and the feudal baron and freebooter feasted , as the monk sang , under vaulted roofs ; not because the vaulting was thought especially appropriate to either the revel or the psalm , but because it was then the form in which a strong roof was easiest built . We have destroyed the goodly ai'chitecture of our cities ; we have substituted one wholly devoid of beauty or meaning ; and then we reason respecting the strange effect upon our minds of the fragments which , fortunately , we have left in our churches , as if those churches had always been designed to stand out in strong relief from all the
buildings around them , and Gothic architecture had always been what it is now , a relig ious language , like Monkish Latin . Most readers know , if they would arouse their knowledge , that this was not so ; but they take no pains to reason the matter out : they abandon themselves drowsily to the impression that Gothic is a peculiarly ecclesiastical style ; and sometimes even that richness in church ornament is a condition or furtherance of the Romish religion . Undoubtedly it has become so in modern times : for there being no beauty in our recent architecture , and much in the remains of the past , and these remains being almost exclusively ecclesiastical , the High Church and Romanist parties have not been slow in availing themselves of the natural instincts which were deprived of all food except from this source ; and have willingly promulgated the theory , that because all the good architecture
that is now left is expressive of High Church or Romanist doctrines , all good architecture ever has been and must be so—a piece of absurdity from which , though here and there a country clergyman may innocently believe it , I hope the common sense of the nation will soon manfully quit itself . It needs but little inquiry into the spirit of the past , to ascertain what , once for all , I would desire here clearly and forcibly to assert , that wherever Christian church architecture has been good and lovely , it has been merely the perfect development of the common dwellinghouse architecture of the period ; that when the pointed arch was used in the street , it was used in -the church ; when the round arch was used in the street it was used in the church ; when the pinnacle was set over the garret window , it was set over the belfry tower ; when the flat roof was used for the drawing-room
if ; was used for the nave . There is no sacredness in round arches , nor in pointed ; none in pinnacles , nor in buttresses ; none in pillars , nor in traceries . Churches were larger than most other buildings , because they had . to . hold more people ; they were more adorned than most other buildings , because they were safer from violence , and were the fitting subjects of devotional offering : but they were never built in any separate , mystical , and religious style ; they were built in the manner that was common and familiar to everybody at the time . The flamboyant traceries that adorn the facade of Rouen Cathedral had once their fellows in every window
of every house in the market-place ; the sculptures that adorn the porches of St . Mark ' s had once their match on the walls of every palace on the Grand Canal ; and the only . . difference between the church and the dwelling-house was , that there existed a symbolical meaning in the distribution of the parts of all buildings meant for worship , and that the painting or sculpture was , in the one case , less frequently of profane subject than in the other . A more severe distinction cannot be drawn : for secular history was constantly introduced into church architecture ; and sacred history or allusion generally formed at least one half of the ornament of the dwelling-house . "
The following will be read with , interest : — DO TIIE RELIGIOUS CAKE FOR ART ? " The more I have examined this subject the more dangerous I have found it to dogmatize respecting the character of the art which is likely , at a . given period , to be most useful to the cause of religion . One great fact first meets me . I cannot answer for the experience of others , but I never yet met with a Christian whose heart was thoroughly set upon the world to conic , and , so far as human judgment could pronounce , perfect and right before God , who cared about art at all . 1 have known several very noble Christian men who loved it intensely , but in them there was ill ways traceable some entanglement of the thoughts with the matters of thin world , causing them to fall into strange distresses and doubts , and
often leading them into what they themselves would confess to be errors in understanding , or even failures in duty . I do not say that these men may not , many of them , be in very deed nobler than those whose conduct is more consistent ; they iiiay be more tender in the tone of nil their feelings , and farther-sighted in soul , and for that very reason exposed to greater trials and fears , than those whoso hardier frame and naturally narrower vision enable them with less effort to givo their hands to God and walk with Him . But still the general fact if indeed so , that I have never known a mun who seemed altogether right and calm in faith , who seriously oared about art ; and when casually moved by if ,, it is quite impossible
- to say beforehand by what class of art Una impression will on such men be , inadc . Very often it is by a theatrical commonplace , moro frequently . still by false sentiment . I believe that tho four painters who have had , and still have , the most influence , wich a . s it is , on the ordinary Protestant Christina mind , are Carlo ¦ Dolci , Guercino , . Benjamin West , and John Martin . Raphael , much as he is tnllu'd iibout , is , 1 believe in very fact , rarely looked at by religious people ; much toss his master , or nny of the truly great religious men of old . But a smooth Magdiilon of Carlo Dolei with a tear on each cheek , or a Guereino Christ or St . ¦ 'olm , or a Scripture illustration of West ' s , or a black cloud with a flash of light" »> f ? in it of Martin ' s , rarely fails of being verily , often deeply , felt for tho
rheroare indeed very evident reasons for this ; tho chief one being that , as "II truly groat religious painters have been hearty Romanists , ( hero are none of l » iiv works which do not embody , in some portions of them , definitely Romanist JKMMnnos . Tho Protestant mind is instantly struck by these , and offended , by ' <'») , so as to be incapable of entertaining , or at least rendered indisposed to enter 'ii'Uier into ih 0 heart of the work , or lo the discovering those deeper-characters of n " '' 1 U 0 U (> 1 ' ' onmiliH << » 1 ) ul ' Christian , in the everlasting sense ; and'power UiriNtianiljr . Thus most Profestanls , en tori ng for tho first- Lima a Paradise Aiij ^ lu'o , would bo irrevocably offended by finding flint tho first person ^ e painter wished them to speak to was Sfc . i ) omim « j and would retire from wlMl ' ! ' V <) U » s » I )(? « dily us possible , -not giving themselves time to discover , that < Mher dressed in black , or white , or grey , and by whatever name in the calendar »» u « "" i llU (; " lle ( I ) th" fl tf llrt ! H tllat nil ( ' ( l iIlafc Angolico heaven wcro indeed hand H ' " 3 ' iUUl 1 > U 1 > C ' ll" ( 1 iul 1 ° f loV ( ' '" CVVVy <'(! uf ' Illl < » <¦ ' » " » "' iy that the human for I ) "T ' ii UmI bi : for ° or Hiu 0 ° ' Alul tllUB l > 1 ' o <^ l «» tism , having foolishly sought w » o Uttlo help it requires at tho liniul of painting from tho men who embodied
no Catholic doctrine , has been reduced to receive it from those who believed neither Catholicism nor Protestantism , but who read the Bible in search of the picturesque . We thus refuse to regard the painters who passed their lives in prayer , but are perfectly ready to be taught by those who spent them in debauchery . There is perhaps no more popular Protestant picture than Salvatov ' s ' Witch of Endor , ' of which-the subject was chosen by the painter simply because , under the names of Saul and the Sorceress , he could paint a captain of banditti , and a Neapolitan hag . " The fact seems to be that strength of religious feelin g is capable of supplying for itself whatever is wanting in the rudest suggestions of art , and will either on the one hand , purify what is coarse into inoffensiveness , or , on the oilier , raise what is feeble into impressiveness . Probably all art , as such , is unsatisfactory to it ; and the effort which it makes to supply the void will bp induced rather by association and accident than by the real merit of the work submitted to it . The likeness to a beloved friend , the correspondence with a habitual conception , tho freedom from any strange or offensive particularity , and , above all , an interesting choice of incident , will win admiration for a picture when the nobles t efforts of religious imagination would otherwise fail of power . How much more , when to the quick capacity of emotion is joined a childish trust that the picture does indeed represent a fact ! - It matters little whether the fact be well or ill told ; the moment we believe the picture to be true , we complain little of its being 111-painted . Let it be considered for a moment , whether the child with its coloured print , inquiring eagerly and gravely which is Joseph , aud which is Benjamin , is not more capable of receiving a strong , even a sublime , impression from the rude symbol which it invests with reality by its own effort , than the connoisseur who admires the grouping of the three figures in Raphael ' s ' Telling of the Dreams ;' and whether also , when the human mind is in right religious tone , it has not always this childish power—I speak advisedly , this power—a noble one , and possessed more in youth than at any period of after life , but always , I think , restored in a measure by religion—of raising into sublimity and reality the rudest symbol which is given to it of accredited truth . " We shall probably , on a future occasion , find space for more extracts ; it being seldom a work so rich comes under our hands . Meanwhile , let us close , and fitly close these remarks with a noble passage , capable of varied application : — THE IMPEKFECTIOKS OF GKEAT THINGS . " The finer the nature the'more flaws it will show through the clearness of it ; and it is a law of this universe , that the best things shall be seldomest seen in their best form . The wild grass grows well and strongly , one year with another ; but the wheat is , according to the greater nobleness of its nature , liable to the bitterer blight . And , therefore , while in all things that we see , or do , we are to desire perfection , and strive for it , we are nevertheless not to set the meaner thing , in its narrow accomplishment , above the nobler , thing , in its mighty progress ; not to esteem smooth minuteness above shattered majesty ; not to prefer mean victory to honourable defeat ; not to lower the level of our aim , that we may the more surely enjoy the complacency of success . But , above all , in our dealings with the souls of other men , we are to take care how we check , by severe requirement or narrowcaution , efforts which might otherwise lead to a noblo issue ; and , still more , how we withhold our admiration from great excellencies , because they are min gled with rough faults . "
September 17, 1853,] The Leader. \ 907
September 17 , 1853 , ] THE LEADER . \ 907
Christie Johnstone, And Ciiaitles Delmer...
CHRISTIE JOHNSTONE , AND CIIAItLES DELMER . Christie Jolmstonc . A novel . By Charles Kendo , Esq ., Author of ' Peg Woffington , ' & c . JBentley . Charles Dclmcr . A Story of the Day . Two Vols . Second Edition . Bontley . An amusing novel , with freshness in the treatment , vivacity in style , and some novelty in the scene , cannot but be welcome to our reading public , which has been for a long while kept without such a tiling ; and such a novel is Christie Johns tone . Mr . Iteatle , who won his dramatic spurs as part author of Masks and JFaces , even in this work shows , somewhat too obtrusively , the tendencies of the dramatic writer ; but if sonic faults in his story are attributable to a theatrical pre-occupat ion , it must also be
confessed that this pro-occupation has saved him from wearisome descriptions , wordinesses , and has given a sharpness of individuality to his characters . The novel is amusing ; as such let it be welcomed . Those who are critical will object to the curtness and frequent flippancy—a flippancy often jarring from its obtrusion upon serious thoughts—an idle , and not always accurate uso of French phmsca—attempts at dramatic dialogue not always successful—and , above all , inconsistencies in the delineation of character . . But even those who are critical will admire tho rapidity , the vivacity , sometimes wit and drollery ( as when a child is termed the f / risth of contention ) , the touches of pathos , and the novelty of the scenes of JNTewhaven life , and its vivacious fishwives . The . story is indicated rather than told—the situations being hinted rather than fully wrought out . A young nobleman , rich and listless , falls in love with his cousin , who refuses him because he is not " earnest "—not a " hero ; " ho has neither virtues nor vices . In pursuit of these he takes a physician's advice lo make acquaintance with all the people of low estate who have- time to ho bothered with him—to learn their ways , their minds , and their troubles . Ho goes to Nowhavcn , and from philanthropy emerges into heroism , and wins his cousin . A young artist , Catty , full of the pre-Raphaelile doctrines , fulls in lovo with Chris tie Johnstone , a jNewhaveu iishwifo . The horror of lii . s mother ¦—widow of n respectable greengrocer— may be conceived I Nhe comes to part tho happy pair , by preaching common . sense against love- and succeeds . To make the following extract intelligible , ' we . should add that ( latty has been served with a , writ for eighty pounds—( , 'hristie ha , s gone to earn the money to roacuo him—but meanwhile a nobleman has purchased his picture for one hundred and iifty pounds . Now hear the novelist : —¦ " Christie drew hor aside , and learned that ( laity aud his mother wen ! just coining- through from Leith ; Chrislie ran for her eighty pounds , placed them in her bosom , cast a hasty glance at a looking-glass , little larger than an oyster-shell and ran out . "' Jlech ! what pleased the auld wilo will be to see h (! has a lass that can male auehty pund in a nioruing / This was Christie ' s notion . At si >> ht of them she took out tho bank-notes , mid with eyes glistening mid cheeks Hushing , » ho cried—r
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), Sept. 17, 1853, page 19, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_17091853/page/19/
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