160. Thus far the notes of Freedom. Now, lastly, here is some talk which I tried at the time to make intelligible; and with which I close this volume, because it will serve sufficiently to express the practical relation in which I think the art and imagination of the Greeks stand to our own; and will show the reader that my view of that relation is unchanged, from the first day on which I began to write, until now.
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THE HERCULES OF CAMARINA.
Address to the students of the art school of south Lambert, march 15, 1869.
161. Among the photographers of Greek coins which present so many admirable subjects for your study, I must speak for the present of one only: the Hercules of Camarina. You have, represented by a Greek workman, in that coin, the face of a man and the skin of a lion’s head. And the man’s face is like a man’s face, but the lion’s skin is not like a lion’s skin.
162. Now there are some people who will tell you that Greek art is fine, because it is true; and because it carves men’s faces as like men’s as it can.
And there are other people who will tell you that Greek art is fine, because it is not true; and carves a lion’s skin so as to look not at all like a lion’s skin.
And you fancy that one or the other of these sets of people must be wrong, and are perhaps much puzzled to find out which you should believe.
But neither of them are wrong, and you will have eventually to believe, or rather to understand and know, in reconciliation, the truths taught by each; but for the present, the teachers of the first group are those you must follow.
It is they who tell you the deepest and usefullest truth, which involves all others in time. Greek art, and all other art, is fine when it makes a man’s face as like a man’s face as it can. Hold to that. All kinds of nonsense are talked to you, nowadays, ingeniously and irrelevantly about art. Therefore, for the most part of the day, shut your ears, and keep your eyes open: and understand primarily, what you may, I fancy, easily understand, that the greatest masters of all greatest schools—Phidias, Donatello, Titian, Velasquez, or Sir Joshua Reynolds—all tried to make human creatures as like human creatures as they could; and that anything less like humanity than their work, is not so good as theirs.