“Aux armes, citoyens / Formes vos bataillons!”

The Lafayette, in New York, is perhaps a mediocre statue, but even so, it is better than most of our statues.  A Frenchman has said of it that the figure “resembles rather a young tenor hurling out his C sharp, than a hero offering his heart and sword to liberty.”  It represents our ancient ally extending his left hand in a gesture of greeting, while his right hand, which holds his sword, is pressed against his breast in a somewhat theatrical movement.  It will be inferred that the general criticism to be made upon Mr. Bartholdi’s statues is that they are violent and want repose.  The Vercingetorix, the Rouget de l’Isle, the Lafayette, all have this exaggerated stress of action.  They have counterbalancing features of merit, no doubt, but none of so transcendent weight that we can afford to overlook this grave defect.

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. Lesbazeilles[A] 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