of form and “content” to be disturbed by failure in the latter; or, better still, the merits of form are not so distinguished as to require imperatively a corresponding excellence of intention.  In fact, it is because of the exceptional position that he occupies in deriving from the antique, instead of showing the academic devotion to Renaissance romanticism which characterizes the general movement of academic French sculpture, that in any consideration of this sculpture Chapu’s work makes a more vivid impression than that of his contemporaries, and thus naturally takes a foremost place.

III

M. Paul Dubois, for example, in the characteristics just alluded to, presents the greatest possible contrast to Chapu; but he will never, we may be sure, give us a work that could be called insignificant.  His work will always express himself, and his is a personality of very positive idiosyncrasy.  M. Dubois, indeed, is probably the strongest of the Academic group of French sculptors of the day.  The tomb of General Lamoriciere at Nantes has remained until recently one of the very finest achievements of sculpture in modern times.  There is in effect nothing markedly superior in the Cathedral of St. Denis, which is a great deal to say—­much more, indeed, than the glories of the Italian Renaissance, which lead us out of mere momentum to forget the French, permit one to appreciate.  Indeed, the sculpture of M. Dubois seems positively to have but one defect, a defect which from one point of view is certainly a quality, the defect of impeccability.  It is at any rate impeccable; to seek in it a blemish, or, within its own limitations, a distinct shortcoming, is to lose one’s pains.  As workmanship, and workmanship of the subtler kind, in which every detail of surface and structure is perceived to have been intelligently felt (though rarely enthusiastically rendered), it is not merely satisfactory, but visibly and beautifully perfect.  But in the category in which M. Dubois is to be placed that is very little; it is always delightful, but it is not especially complimentary to M. Dubois, to occupy one’s self with it.  On the other hand, by impeccability is certainly not here meant the mere success of expressing what one has to express—­the impeccability of Canova and his successors, for example.  The difficulty is with M. Dubois’s ideal, with what he so perfectly expresses.  In the last analysis this is not his ideal more than ours.  And this, indeed, is what makes his work so flawless in our eyes, so impeccable.  It seems as if of what he attempts he attains the type itself; everyone must recognize its justness.