SCULPTURE THE principle of imitation is founded deep in the nature of man—in nations—as in the individual early beginning to manifest a decided and happy influence. In the fine arts, this principle supplies at once the source of inspiration, and, to a certain extent, the standard of excellence. Viewed in their general ten dency and design, poetry, painting, sculpture, archi tecture, and even music—all contemplate one end, namely, to awaken associated emotion; while each employs the same means of direct, or of less obvious imitation.
In none of the arts now mentioned, however, is imi tation the final object or criterion of the exalted and most refined efforts of the artist. In all, imitation is merely the instrument of accomplishing high and pe culiar effects; neither in the varied application of the common means does the individuality or essential cha racter of each reside.
These positions conduct to important conclusions. It is not seldom assumed, that not only is imitation the origin of all art, but that the sole difference between its various branches lies in the manner of imitating. In short, that " painting is silent poetry—poetry, a speaking picture;" or, generally, that the abstract idea or image formed in the mind is identical in all, although particular arts may require diversified or even oppo site modes of expression. This theory is partial and erroneous. In each of the arts, a distinction exists not in the manner alone, but still more essentially in the objects and extent of imitation; as also in the fa cility to be preserved of tracing the sensible or primitive thoughts, on which the associated feeling is engrafted. The creations by which the poet rouses our sympathies, or sways our affections, often but faintly reflect living nature. Architecture, again, fills the mind with awe or delight, from recalling ab stract and undefined perceptions of the majesty or grace of the material world. Musical imitation, though sweet and powerful in effect, is still more vague in principle, and more mysteriously associates the corporeal with the intellectual universe. These arts
are thus placed widely remote from the direct imita tions and definite aims of painting and of sculpture.
A twofold division of the arts of imitation is thus discovered arising from distinction in their common and animating principle. To those of one class, embracing poetry, music, and architec ture, may be appropriated the name "imitative arts;" while painting and sculpture may not improperly he distinguished as " the arts of design." These terms appear sufficiently expressive of the essential differ ence between the two divisions—the associated im pression in the former depending upon general imita tion only, while the latter requires a faithful delinea tion of perfect, doubtless, yet of living nature. In the following pages, the appellation of " fine arts" is ex clusively applied to those of the second class.
Painting and Sculpture, although thus assimilated as constituting one of the grand divisions of art, and consequently exhibiting a certain resemblance in their leading principles, are yet discriminated by marked and peculiar characters. In the latter, form and ex pression constitute the only legitimate objects of imi tation; in the former, the representation includes eve ry attribute of external nature. Extent, in the first, always in one, frequently in every direction, is pro duced by rules of art, abstractly unreal, though true in effect; in the second, dimension and irregularity of superficies are actually exhibited in absolute or pro portional magnitude. Sculpture is more severe, situ ple,and veracious; Painting more animated and varied, though illusory and conventional in its modes. This imitates, that represents. Though from the addition of colour, as a third element of design, the imitation be more lively, and generally more pleasing than the representation; yet, in respect to intellectual gratifi cation, it may be justly questioned whether the inven tions of sculpture do not afford the nobler and more refined enjoyment.