BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 FROM THE 
 
 SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 Hetirg W. Sage 
 
 1891 
 
 /!, .1 j^ojS.. z<^Jh /' fcy. 
 
Cornell University Library 
 NK1149 .G95 
 
 Transactions of the Guild & School of Ha 
 3 1924 030 688 224 
 
 olin 
 
 Overs 
 
XI 
 
 Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924030688224 
 
TRANSACTIONS 
 OF THE GVILD 
 & SCHOOL OF 
 HANDICRAFT, 
 VOL. I., iSgo.^iif 
 
ADVERTISEMENT FROM THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
 January, 1 89 1 . 
 
 The welcome which has already been accorded to this volume, 
 e!ven before its j)ublic appearance, must be its publishers' warrant 
 for the following announcement. 
 
 This edition consists of 1,000 copies, {2^0 large paper copies 
 specially numbered, and 750 ordinary copies.) 
 
 Of these, the first 1 00 have been bespoken by the members of the 
 Guild and School of Handicraft, arid a further 300 have already 
 been called for before the publication of the book. 
 
 The remaining 600 copies of the edition are still obtainable on 
 the terms originally announced. 
 
 Large Paper Copies, \os. dd. Ordinary Copies, 55. 
 
 Reductions are allowed as follows : — 
 
 Half-price to (a) Members of the Guild and School ; 
 
 (b) Subscribers to the School of Handicraft during 
 the year of issue of one guinea or over. 
 
 Twenty five per cent to all bona fide Teachers and Pupils 
 of Art Schools and Centres of Home Art Industry in the United 
 Kingdom. 
 
 A limited number fzooj of proofs of the Illustrations on 
 Japanese hand-made vellum, touched up by the artists themselves, 
 and in special covers, will be sold separately at i o^. td. tJie set of a,"]. 
 
 The profits of the annual sale of the Transactions will go to the 
 support and further development of the School of Handicraft. 
 
 Applications for the rest of the edition, or for the sets of 
 Illustrations, should, be made as soon as possible to 
 
 Secretary of the Guild of Handicraft, 
 34, Commercial Street, London, E. 
 
THE GVILD AND 
 
 SCHOOL OF 
 
 HANDICRAFT. 
 
There have been 250 
 copies only of this 
 bool{ printed of which 
 this is No. Q/y 
 
 PRINTED BY PENNY & HULL, 
 
 53, LEMAN STREET, 
 
 LONDON, E. 
 
MK. W. li. RICHMOND S MASgUE 
 MODELLED BEFORE THE MEMBERS 
 OF THE GVILD AND SCHOOL OF 
 HANDICRAFT, APRIL, l8gO. SE); 
 
 PACE 79. -A***-************** 
 
TRANSACTIONS OF THE 
 GVILD & SCHOOL OF 
 HANDICRAFT. VOL. I. 
 
 EDITED BY C. R. ASHBEE. 
 
 THE ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 C. R. ASHBEE, J. EADIE REID, 
 
 T, STIRLING LEE, 
 
 E. P. WARREN, 
 
 &■ OTHERS. 
 
 GVI 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE GVILD 6- SCHOOL 
 
 OF HANDICRAFT, ESSEX HOUSE, 
 
 MILE END, E. 
 
 MDCCCXC. 
 
bF" 
 
 A- ^ 
 
DEDICATED IN LOVING 
 
 MINDFULNESS OF 
 
 MANY LESSONS 
 
 LEARNT ® TO 
 
 THE MEMORY 
 
 OF @ HENRY 
 
 BRADSHAW 
 
^*K 
 
CONTENTS. IlliiillHif ill 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Page 6 
 
 PREFACE BY G. F. WATTS, R.A g 
 
 EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION, 13 
 
 A SHORT HISTORY 
 
 OF THE GVILD &■ SCHOOL OF HANDICRAFT, BY C. R. 
 ASHBEE 17 
 
 W. HOLMAN HUNT, 
 
 AN ADDRESS ON THE OPENING OF THE WHITECHAPEL 
 PICTURE EXHIBITION, MARCH 28tH, i888 33 
 
 L. ALMA TADEMA, R.A., 
 
 AN ADDRESS ON SCULPTURE, APRIL 7TH, 1888 45 
 
 HENRY HOLIDAY, 
 
 THE ARTISTIC ASPECTS OF EDWARD BELLAMY'S 
 "LOOKING BACKWARD," APRIL 3RD, 1890 53 
 
 W. B. RICHMOND, A.R.A., 
 
 GESSO, APRIL I7TH, l8gO 73 
 
 T. STIRLING LEE, 
 
 THE LANGUAGE OF SCULPTURE, APRIL 24TH, 189O ... 85 
 
 E. PRIOLEAU WARREN, A.R.I.B.A., 
 
 PARLOUR ARCHITECTURE, MAY I9TH, 1890 Id 
 
 RECIPES AND NOTES, 
 
 A NOTE ON STUCCO, FROM G. F. WATTS, R.A I23 
 
 A RECIPE FOR GESSO, ,, „ 121 
 
 THREE RECIPES FOR GESSO, FROM WALTER CRANE ... 122 
 
 REPRINT OF THE RECIPE USED BY GIOVANNI DA 
 UDINE 124 
 
 ENVOI FROM THE GVILD I25-I27 
 
LIST OF ILLVSTRATIONS 
 
 Mr. Richmond's Masque 
 
 Modelled in Gesso before the Members of 
 the Guild and School, April, 1890 
 
 The White Pink of the Guild 
 
 Quintet of Pinks 
 
 Decorative Head-piece : — 
 
 Guild and School of Handicraft 
 
 Craft of the Guild 
 
 Decorative Foot-note : — 
 Rose and Ring 
 
 The Old Workshop of the Guild and School in 
 34 Commercial St., E 
 
 Decorative Head and Foot-notes : — 
 
 Cabinet Makers' Tradition — The Glue Pot 
 
 The Three Crafts of the Guild — Woodwork, 
 Metal Work, and Decorative Painting 
 
 Apprentices and Franklins of the Guild ... 
 
 Tares — Who is the enemy that hath done 
 this? 
 
 Metal Workers' AUiance 
 
 Orange Tree Flowers — Founding of the 
 Craftsman Club (April i88g) 
 
 An Historical Episode (April 1889) 
 
 An Historical Episode (Sept. 1890) 
 
 An Historical Episode (0<5l. i8go) 
 
 Essex House, Mile End 
 
 Plan of Essex House, with garden & workshops 
 
 Number Number of 
 
 of page folio in the 
 
 in the Velium 
 
 Volume. Proofs 
 
 separately 
 
 published. 
 
 i. 
 
 X. 
 
 vi. 
 xiv. 
 
 Not in 
 Proofc, 
 
 V. 
 
 viii. 
 
 X. 
 
 Frontis- 
 piece 
 
 Title 
 page 
 
 Passim, 
 
 14 
 16 
 
 17 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 VI. 
 
 21 
 
 ii. 
 
 22 
 
 vi. 
 
 23 
 
 ii. 
 
 24 
 
 xi. 
 
 25 
 
 xvi. 
 
 26 
 
 iii. 
 
 27 
 
 iii. 
 
 28 
 
 xi. 
 
 29 
 
 xii. 
 
Decorative Foot-note : — 
 
 Double or Quits ; A Guild and School Problem 
 
 Los, the God of Time, and the building of 
 the Sacred City 
 
 The Sign of the Craftsman Club 
 
 Decorative Head-piece to " Looking Backward " : 
 
 Workman instructing Designer 
 
 Mr. Richmond lecturing and demonstrating ... 
 
 Head and Tail-pieces to Mr. Stirling Lee's ledture : 
 
 Egyptian Symbols, contributed by Mrs. G. F. 
 Watts 
 
 Sculptural Language of Egypt 
 
 Current Coin of the Realm, ; eloquent illustra- 
 tions of Art and Craft, (English 19th century) 
 
 Mr. Stirling Lee's figure : — 
 
 Adam created, Adam destroyed 
 
 Decorative Foot-note : — 
 
 Leasehold Art 
 
 Cornices (good and bad) 
 
 Windows (good and bad) 
 
 An Adams Grate 
 
 Fire-place in Hell, Bolsover Castle 
 
 As opposed to 
 
 Jerry's pattern Mantel-piece : — 
 
 The domestic high altar (English 19th 
 century) 
 
 The Mother Art of Architecture 
 
 Head and tail pieces 
 
 30 
 
 31 
 32 
 
 55 
 79 
 87 
 S- 
 98 
 
 89 
 
 96 
 
 116 
 
 127 
 
 V. 
 X. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Not ia 
 Proofs. 
 
 XUl. 
 
 xiii. 
 
 94 XUl. 
 
 IX. 
 
 lOI 
 
 XVI. 
 
 106 
 
 vii. 
 
 109 
 
 vii. 
 
 115 
 
 XV. 
 
 114 
 
 XV, 
 
 XV. 
 
 iv. 
 
 X. 
 
^^ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE valuable work attempted, and now for three years most 
 successfully carried on, with re-assuring development and 
 growth, by the Guild and School of Handicraft, in their 
 workshop, at 34, Commercial Street, Whitechapel, whose 
 transactions and history, with practical teaching given to 
 the Guild in lectures by friends of the movement, are 
 contained in this volume, needs neither introduction nor 
 explanation ; it speaks for itself. Good wine, says an old 
 proverb, needs no bush. A few words, however, on the 
 subject of Handicraft in relation to Fine Art, may perhaps 
 be permitted in response to a kindly invitation from the 
 Editor, which it would have been churlish to decline. ■>!<■ ^ 
 IT is certain that any hope of vital art in England, and 
 indeed, anywhere, in modern times, must be based on 
 working, not dilletanU principles. An art cannot be grafted, 
 or planted, it must spring from its native soil, or it can 
 never flourish in the right nobleness of full health and 
 
 ,,;-.._,,„ >».• U/ _>!*■ sV ^ O^ "^ .>k. ^^ '*'<. \V xV vl/ \l^ >J^ U/ u^ 
 
 vigour. ->^ -y^ "^ ^ ^|C 7|C ^ -^ ryv TyN >^ "V- -v- "'t^ "^ "V ~'^ 
 
 FOR more than a hundred years, art, as understood in the 
 highest sense, the sense in which literature is estimated, 
 
10 
 
 has been encouraged by schools, and directed by discourses 
 and criticisms ; but a natural school of art, of the dignity 
 that glorified the great achievements of ancient and mediaeval 
 times, has, it must be confessed, not been developed. Art 
 has entirely ceased to be a natural, devotional, or patriotic 
 expression of sentiment. If any, gifted with the faculties 
 and aspirations of Pheidias or Michael Angelo should arise, 
 his genius would expire of inanition ; no Parthenon or 
 Sistine Chapel for him. It is with more than regret that 
 the hope of attaining the position in art, which we may 
 proudly claim in literature, science, arms, and discovery, must 
 be allowed sadly for the present to be given up ; as without 
 walls for the presentation of art in mural decoration, and 
 in a climate unfavourable to sculptors' aims, costume and 
 general habits unsuggestive of dignified effeft, the efforts of 
 ardent spirits struggling to keep alive great art in our 
 nation and time, can only l)e worthy in endeavour, not in 
 achievement. But when in our daily life, we find that 
 certain things are out of our reach, the wise course is 
 to discover what of its kind most nearly may be attained — 
 that which, with patient steps, may ultimately lead to 
 placing within the reach of a future generation the goal 
 that is unattainable for this, t^ ^ a^ 2^ ^ a^ ^ 
 FROM a nation of designers and handicraftsmen, from a 
 people intolerant of ugliness and vulgarity in all the common 
 surroundings of their lives, an age dignified by the highest 
 expression in great art might be hoped for. ^^ a^ jf^ j^ 
 TO the fine designer and worker in metal, in iron, in this 
 iron age — the carver in wood, the moulder in clay, the 
 handicraftsman who can put a living art into the hand and 
 under the eyes of all in the household of rich or poor, we 
 look now for our most vigorous and healthy art-work. He 
 is somewhat less affedted by the loss, to the painter and 
 sculptor, from the ignobleness of costume and the consequent 
 absence of free and natural movement in the human being, 
 and the lack of almost every thing that can supply the 
 imagination with the material for expressing, through 
 knowledge of the perfeft human form, that which should 
 best appeal to man's sense of the noble and beautiful, dealing 
 as he should, as indeed all the greatest human efforts in 
 poetry and in painting have dealt, with humanity, with man's 
 moods, emotions, sympathies and trials, c^ ^pt s^ ^^ v^ 
 
II 
 
 THE very greyness of our climate strenuously demands of 
 the craftsman that he should bring the pleasure of colour 
 constantly to the mind, within or without the walls of our 
 homes or our public places. Modern eyes are being opened 
 to the glories of sea and sky, and a loveliness of tendril 
 and blossom, the Greek and mediaeval man did not see. Our 
 designers have left to them the inexhaustible book of nature, 
 the only basis of all true decoration, ever open for 
 reference ; to their generation Mr. Ruskin has spoken 
 with the language of inspired insight on the beauty of leaf, 
 and flower, and stem ; and he has shown that nearly every 
 kind of loveliness and interest in line and arrangement is 
 to be found in them. A whole school of design lies in 
 such a passage as the following, and thousands of such 
 could be quoted from his writings. ^^ ^»5 ^^ ^jR ^^ j^ 
 " TWO characSters seem especially aimed at by Nature in the 
 earth plants : first, that they should be charadteristic and 
 interesting; secondly, that they should not be very visibly 
 injured by crushing." The fundamental law to the Handicrafts- 
 man is, that there should be the beauty of interest, so entirely 
 lost sight of in mechanical decoration, and the beauty of 
 perfeft adaptation or usefulness, s^ ^^ ^ft s^ ^fi ^^ S^ 
 FURTHER, what a revelation follows in this : " The leaves 
 of the herbage at our feet take all kinds of strange shapes, as if 
 to invite us to examine them. Star-shaped, heart-shaped, 
 spear-shaped, arrow-shaped, fretted, fringed, cleft, furrowed, 
 serrated, sinuated, in whorls, in tufts, in spires, in wreaths, 
 endlessly expressive, descriptive, fantastic, never the same from 
 Modern Painters, ^°°*"^*^^^^ ^° blossom, they seem perpetually to 
 Vol.v. 'tempt our watchfulness, and take delight in 
 page 95. outstripping our wonder." ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 WHAT further can, after this, be said but to wish every 
 Handicraftsman "God speed," and commend him to the book of 
 Nature, with this great seer of her truths as his teacher ; and 
 bid him never to forget in the noise of the workshop, or in the 
 temptations of the market, that his work, well and beautifully 
 done, may be the cradle of a superb art, and may win back for 
 his country that great spiritual possession, the perception of 
 Divine beauty, from which, by her blindness, she has been 
 too long disinherited, ^s^^s^^s^s^s^s^ 
 
 G. F. WATTS. 
 
^x 
 
13 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 AS the present book may be considered the outcome of the 
 following letter, I reprint it, with Mr. Richmond's permission. 
 May it serve as my best excuse for presenting the first volume 
 of their transactions to the members of the Guild and School, 
 and to the general and kindly public. ^^®i^t®Ti^®Ti^S®tS^ 
 
 Beavor Lodge, Hammersmith, 
 
 MY Dear Ashbee, Nov. 22, i88g. 
 
 I should like to go down to you one evening 
 and give the people a few words on " Gesso 
 Work," only it would have to be in the 
 
 spring. ip®Y0®rSi®ii^i®iSi9r^®x^r!Ff® 
 
 THEN let me suggest a shorthand writer to 
 take down all your lectures and copy them 
 out, so that in process of time the Guild 
 would have a little library for reference of 
 its own, valuable, not only to the workers, 
 but also as a future history of the Guild. y5J® 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 W. B. Richmond. 
 
 THE thanks of the Guild and School are due not only 
 to the writer of this letter, but also to all those who 
 have generously assisted in its educational work by giving 
 their time and countenance to the movement for furthering 
 the industrial arts, and more especially to the gentlemen 
 who in this present volume have allowed their work to be 
 reproduced both to the service of the Guild and School and 
 of the public at large, ^jj® ijS® 15*© jjj® ijjf® t/^ iSi® l5^ rSi® 
 THE addresses will appear without comment or censorship, as 
 they were given from the free platform of the Guild ; and while 
 from the many divers views, artistic and social, some strong 
 element of school and tradition will doubtless form itself, the 
 givers will be alone answerable for their gifts. The transactions 
 of the Guild and School, regardless of opinions of schools 
 or forms of thought will, it is hoped, be plain records of the 
 spoken word and the accomplished deed. TffS®lS^Tff^tP®tS^ 
 
 The Editor. 
 
H 
 
 THE COURSES OF 
 LECTURES. 
 
 THE inaugural course given at Toynbee Hall in 1888, in the 
 year of the Guild and School's formation, was as follows : — 
 
 W. HoLMAN Hunt " An Address on the Opening ot 
 
 the Whitechapel Picture Exhib- 
 ition." * * ^ ^ ^ # # 
 
 *Henry Blackburn " Art and Modern Dress." ^ # 
 
 * Walter Crane "The Construction and Evolu- 
 tion of Decorative Pattern." ^ 
 
 Edmond GosSE "The Place of Sculpture in 
 
 Modern Life." ^ ^ ^ # ^ 
 
 L. Alma Tadema, R.A "An Address on Sculpture." ^ 
 
 E. C. Robins, F.S.A "Enthusiasm in Art: its moral 
 
 and material significance." ^ 
 
 ♦Walter Crane On his Picture "The Bridge of 
 
 Life." * * :?f: * ^ ^ ^ 
 
15 
 
 THE second course, given in the year 1889, when the Guild 
 and School became an independent body and self-governing, 
 was as follows :— ^^^^^#^^4^*^^* 
 
 *WiLLiAM Morris " Gothic Architecture." ^ ^ ^ 
 
 *W. B. Richmond, A.R.A.... "The Dignity of Handicraft."^ 
 
 Lewis F. Day "A Talk on Art and Handicraft." 
 
 ■"The Hon. Harold A. 
 
 Dillon "Armour." ^X: ^ # :5(: ^ ^ 
 
 *Ernest Radford "The Beauty of Useful Things." 
 
 Sir James Linton, P.R.L "Guilds."^ s)^ * *H: -J^ -i^ ^ 
 
 C. Kegan Paul "Art in Poetry." ^ ')& * -X: ^ 
 
 *Principal Sparkes "The Potter's Wheel." ^ # # 
 
 THE third course given in the workshop in the year i8go, 
 was as follows : — ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 Henry Holiday " The Artistic Aspects of Edward 
 
 Bellamy's 'Looking Back- 
 ward.' " ^ ^ ^ # * sX: ^ 
 *T. CoBDEN Saunderson ..." Bookbinding." ^ ^ ^ -^ ^ 
 *W. B. Richmond, A.R.A. "Gesso." ^ * * * * ^ * 
 
 *T. Stirling Lee " The Language of Sculpture." 4j: 
 
 ■*E. Prioleau Warren, 
 
 A.R.LB.A " Parlour Architefture." ^ :^ ^ 
 
 *H. Stannus, F.R.LB.A. ... "Construction of Design." :^ ^ 
 
 Those marked * were practically illustrated. 
 
 THE fourth course, will be given in the Spring of i8gi, and 
 the reprints of the course will form, together with coloured 
 illustrations, recipes, and other matter, and with such of the past 
 ledtures as can be reproduced, the volume of transactions for 
 
 lildl. ycd.1. ^■A"WW^WW"7V""7S"'7rwTV"TPTf'V 
 
A SHORT HISTORY OF 
 THE GVILD & SCHOOL OF 
 HANDICRAFT. 5|||||||||i§ 
 
< 
 
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 35 
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19 
 
 ^AB / /IM \ N ET- 
 
 MAKERS' 
 
 TRAT^IT 
 
 ION 
 
 THE Guild and School had its beginnings in the years 
 1886-7, ill ^ small Ruskin class, conducted at Toynbee Hall, 
 and composed of three pupils. Each of these three has since 
 been engaged in an industrial venture of a co-operative kind. 
 Each has failed. s^c^s^s^^^^^ 
 THE reading of Ruskin led to an experiment of a more 
 practical nature, and out of Fors Clavigera and The Crown of 
 Wild Olive, sprang a small class for the study of design. The 
 class grew to thirty, some men, some boys ; and then it was 
 felt that design needed application, to give the teaching 
 fulfilment. A piece of practical work, which involved painting, 
 modelling, plaster-casting, gilding, and the study of heraldic 
 forms, gave a stimulus to the corporate action of the thirty 
 students, and the outcome of their united work as dilettanti 
 was the desire that permanence might be given to it by making 
 it work for life and bread. From this sprang the idea of the 
 present Guild and School. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 VERY undefined at first, the notion was that a School should be 
 carried on in connedlion with a workshop ; that the men in 
 this workshop should be the teachers in the School, and that 
 the pupils in the School should be drafted into the workshop 
 as it grew in strength and certainty. ^^ ^^ ^ft J^ ^ft 
 
20 
 
 WISDOM pronounced the experiment from a business point 
 of view as entirely quixotic, and precedent for it there was 
 none. The Httle Guild of three members to begin with, 
 and the larger School of some fifty members, was however 
 started in its present form ; the top iioor of a warehouse in 
 Commercial Street was taken for two years, to serve as 
 workshop and school-room combined ; it was polychromatized 
 by the pupils, and the Guild and School celebrated its 
 inauguration on June 23rd, 1888. A kindly public gave the 
 funds for supporting the School for two trial years ; while the 
 Guild, launching as an independent venture, announced its 
 intention of taking up three lines of practical work : wood 
 work, metal work, and decorative painting, and intimated 
 the ambitious hope, that it would one day take over the School, 
 for which purpose, when formulating its constitution, it laid 
 by a first charge on its profits. 8SB88SBSB9898S8S 
 THE little workshop in Commercial Street saw many 
 vicissitudes, and unexpected developments. Strange new things 
 
 _^^ERL WO"R]C'ZII'WCX)BWORK 
 
 DECB^INrriNGZ: 
 
21 
 
 had to be learnt, new conditions and new experiences. The 
 introduction among its members of some of the leading trades- 
 unionist workmen — an indispensable element in the solving of 
 an industrial problem — gave to the Guild that peculiar character 
 which has been the principal reason of its success so far. gg gg 
 THE marriage between the stolid uncompromising co-opera- 
 tive force of trades unionism, and the spirit that makes for a 
 high standard of excellence in English Art and Handicraft, 
 has so far proved a fortunate one ; and a younger generation is 
 already beginning to tell of a life and tradition of its own. gg 
 WE look back now with wonder to the circulars issued in the 
 days of the beginnings, and ask how far the original intention 
 has been warped, and changed, and twisted ; but the central 
 ideas have always been maintained — that the movement shall 
 be a workman's movement ; that it shall be one for the 
 nobility and advance of English Art and Handicraft ; that it 
 shall be developed not on the basis of mastership, in the 
 ordinary sense, but co-operatively as an industrial partnership • 
 
 S^OF THE GVILD (S>&^^:xe^<^^>^^s^-^^^^ 
 
22 
 
 and that the arts and crafts, united in the Guild, shall be the 
 children of the mother art of architecture. This is the basis 
 upon which all has been built up. ^^^^i^^^^i^^^^^^^^ 
 
 ON the first birthday of the Guild and School, celebrated by a 
 supper, a cake, and one candle, the Guildsmen numbered 
 eight, and the School, increased to several classes — carpentry, 
 modelling, carving, metal work, with the central design class 
 as the backbone of the whole, counted an average of seventy 
 pupils, men and boys. ^^^^^^^#«^^^$«^<^^^$^^^^ 
 WE have had numberless lessons in working out the 
 practical difficulties, but we have had to work along the line of 
 least resistance. Many things are tried, many abandoned, but 
 that only means vitality. Where a number of men are united 
 together to one end, there is lack neither of experiments, nor 
 of encouragement in failure. Such things are often tares, and 
 the enemy that sows them frequent ; but even tares can serve 
 their purpose, whether as pointing a parable to those who 
 follow after, or merely decoratively in the wheat field. ^^^^^ 
 
23 
 
 IF the Guild then takes its stand on the highest technical 
 excellence, and challenges judgment on the charaefter of its 
 work and the reasonableness of its system, the School lays 
 claim also to a character of its own. Its general principle is 
 to get hold of young journeymen, and give them some idea of 
 design in its application to the industry in which they are 
 engaged. There have passed through the School, since its 
 beginning, men engaged in numberless trades : cabinet making, 
 wood work, metal work, electricity, lamp making, lithography, 
 printing, draughtsmanship, sign writing, pattern making ; 
 also teachers in board schools, and such as are engaged in 
 educational work of various kinds. To the minority who are 
 not diredtly connected with trade or education, the work of the 
 School takes more the form of pastime in the evening ; but it 
 is none the less educational, and many of them have united 
 themselves into a club — The Craftsman Club — which holds 
 reunions, has debates and discussions, and seeks to give ex- 
 pression to the social, in contradistinction to the produdlive 
 
 METAL • WORKCRS -AL LIANCE- 
 
24 
 
 and educational, work of the Guild and School. " To cherish 
 kindliness" is the motto of this Club, taken from the history of 
 an old Cambridge Guild of the 14th Century, which, doubtless, 
 left its little record upon the works of men. \^\^\^S^S0^ 
 IN the School of Handicraft, since we work not so much 
 by a system of classes as by means of instructors' evenings, 
 the contacTt between teacher and pupil is of a more real 
 nature, and as the pupil's fee franks to all the nights of ad- 
 mission, he is free to apply his design and labour to any 
 material. This contacTt of teacher and taught bringing the 
 pupils in the School into close relation with the members 
 of the Guild has resulted in an expression of Corporate Life 
 in the School itself, and the third year of its being has 
 brought to birth a flourishing Students Committee eager to 
 take its share in the government and financial burdens of 
 the School.^N^s#-^-^S^^-^^^S#^,#S#-x#^ 
 THIS is the School in its general aspecTt; in its more hmited 
 but perhaps more important aspecTt, for the genuine develop- 
 ment of art and craft, it is the feeder of the Guild. Many of 
 the pupils of the School have already been drafted into the 
 
25 
 
 Guild, and others by contact and indirect interest in its work 
 have been placed on the list of affiliated workmen, and so been 
 put in the position of earning some complement to the wages 
 of life. >#-^S#S#S#S#^>#-.#S#S#S#-^#S#- 
 IF the School be small and insignificant in many respedls, it 
 is composed of good working material, and it is above all^ 
 living. Our object is not to create a dilettante and ephemeral 
 School that shall be pretty and winning, and be supported on the 
 passing charity of West End culture ; its existence determined 
 by the margin of spare time which we, and our friends looking 
 kindly on us, are enabled from the more earnest calls of life to 
 yield it — the School of a hobby ; our ideal is to create a School 
 whose life shall depend upon what is the only living thing — 
 the Life of Workmanship, a School whose future shall be 
 bound up in the future of those who labour in it ; a School 
 therefore, that shall be self-dependent and supported from 
 within, not from without — the School of a movement. \^S^S^^ 
 THE facts we hope do already speak for themselves. In the 
 first year of its life as a School, about £250 was called for from 
 without, and from within some -£1.0 was found in fees from the 
 
 ! HISTORICAL' EPISOPE. -'APR- 1^9' 
 
26 
 
 pupils, &c. In the second year of its existence, owing to the 
 economy of working with the Guild, the expenses of the School 
 were reduced, and of the amount needed for its conduct — £140, 
 about jf 100 was found from without and about £i\o from within. 
 During this present, the third year of its life, the figures have 
 been again transposed : some £%o has been called for from 
 without, and about £%o from within ; and in addition to this, 
 much more potent than figures, an esprit de corps and enthusiasm 
 have developed among the whole members of the Guild and 
 School, which has ended in their taking upon themselves the 
 entire financial responsibility of the School, so that they hope, 
 at the beginning of the fourth year of life, to show that what 
 may still be asked from outside for the School proper will be 
 only as complement, or tribute to what they themselves produce. 
 It is a proof this, of the rightness of applying the principle of 
 self-government to even so remote a subje(fl as a school and an 
 artistic workshop. ^a^ftc^5^a^a^»>^^^c^a^^^ 
 PERHAPS the best token of the success of the method we 
 have so far sought to carry through in the School of Handi- 
 
27 
 
 craft is the facfl that we are being imitated, that other bodies 
 are forming who seek to take as their standard our educational 
 ideal. Not only in East London, where the need for the 
 training of the eye and the hand is greatest, and where there 
 would be room for a dozen schools of a similar nature, but in 
 other parts of England also, groups and combinations of a like 
 character are in embryo. The words Craft, Handicraft, Guilds 
 of Craft, Guild of Handicraft Workers, and such like terms, 
 are sufficient indication ; and to some of these younger bodies 
 we send instructors, and give what assistance we can, other 
 than pecuniary. ^^c^^^c^c^c^^?^J^S»ic^S^ 
 
 THE third birthday of the Guild and School will be celebrated 
 in its new premises. We have outgrown the old workshop, 
 the coloured rafters and hanging lamps have served their 
 purpose, and we are leaving it for others who may follow after, 
 and carry on work .of a like nature. By the beginning of 
 this spring, the Guild and School will have entered into 
 possession of Essex House, Mile End, for which a lease has 
 been acquired. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
28 
 
 ESSEX House is one of the land-marks of East London. 
 Situated in the Mile End Road, which has gradually closed in 
 around it, it is a good centre for the majority of the workmen 
 and pupils of the Guild and School, who live mostly in the 
 neighbourhood. ®®®®@@®@®®©®@® 
 THE house itself, built in part by a pupil of Sir Christopher 
 Wren, with panelled rooms, oak stair-case, garden, stables and 
 vinery, is fit no longer for private residence in this part of 
 London ; but for a Guild House, with class rooms and club 
 rooms, as a repository of the traditions of a body of men, its 
 position in Mile End dignifies it at once with a new and living 
 purpose. ®®®®®®®®®®®®®®®® 
 THE members of the Guild and School will meet here. They 
 will meet here for work, for education, for debate ; they will 
 entertain their friends, and the place will, we hope, become a 
 rallying point in East London, even as the old workshop was, 
 in a very small way, for architects, artists, and designers, who 
 are keen on the encouragement of living Handicraft. ® ® ® 
 THE plan on the opposite page will show the extent of the pro- 
 perty acquired, its gardens, class rooms, ledture hall, workshops, 
 and the scope it gives for later expansion and development, while 
 the little foot-note here may serve to give a suggestion of the 
 old house, as it is entered from the Mile End Road, its gardens 
 and workshops lying at the back. ®©<?®^©®®® 
 
\VE.ST 
 
 EAST 
 
 ESSEX HOUSE. 
 
 ARRANGEMENTS 
 OF ©THE ©PLAN, 
 GARDENS, WORK- 
 SHOPS,-? SCHOOL- 
 ROOMS,© ETC.©?? 
 
 THE HOUSE IS ENTERED 
 FROM THE MILE END RD. 
 OPPOSITE BURDETT RD. 
 
 ©®®®©©©© 
 
 A Arbour. 
 
 B Flower Beds. 
 
 C Craftsman Club (large 
 panelled room on 1st 
 floor). 
 
 D Hon. Direiftor's Room. 
 
 E Extensions (later). 
 
 F Proposed Fives Court. 
 
 Q Galleries proposed for 
 loan Piaures *• Works 
 of Handicraft 
 
 H Hall. 
 
 K Lawn Tennis Courts. 
 
 L Laths Room. 
 
 M Entrance from Mile 
 End Road. 
 
 N Entrance from Fred- 
 erick Piace. 
 
 O OflSce of the Secretary. 
 
 i<--l..:LJJ 
 
 =7^ -Si .J 
 
 P Porch. 
 
 Q Proposed Asphalte 
 Court. 
 
 R Leifture &■ Class Room. 
 
 S Studio &■ Life Room. 
 
 T Trees. 
 
 V Vinery. 
 
 W Workshops. 
 
3° 
 
 THE workshops, which we are construdting ourselves, will be 
 built round the garden, on which will be lawn tennis courts for 
 the members of the Club ; there will be a room for debates, 
 a larger lecture room for the annual and terminal courses of 
 lectures from artists and others, and this lecture room will 
 be filled with loan pictures and works of decorative art — the 
 beginning this, we hope, of a permanent museum and loan 
 gallery ; and the old squire's bakehouse will be converted into 
 a studio, where we are hoping to have a life class for the 
 study of the figure in its direct bearing on ornament and 
 design.^ ^ ^ &^ &o^ ^ ^&^ ^ ^ ^ &^^ ^ ^ ^ 5^^ 
 HOW far these new developments will alter the chara(5ter of 
 the work and further its organisation remains to be seen. 
 There are many problems — of government, of education, of 
 finance — still to be solved in the immediate future ; and on 
 questions of progress and development it is often the bold 
 
31 
 
 venture that proves the winning, and the winning that justifies 
 the boldness. The next three years will try its final success 
 as a movement, test its methods of government, and prove 
 whether it shall have done something to establish even a 
 portion of that sacred City of Art, which Los, the God of 
 Time, in Blake's Jerusalem, sought to build ; but if its object, 
 so far tentativel)- achieved, shall at the end of that period 
 have found further fulfilment and justification, the Guild and 
 School of Handicraft will have contributed its mite towards 
 establishing a healthier system on which to build the labour 
 of the English workman, and so leave a sure mark on the 
 future of the English Handicrafts, whose guardian he must be. 
 
 ^ 1<^ l-if i<^ .'■«' f©» '-©» l-^ .^ .^ l^ 1^1^%^%^^^%^ ^~C l^iR t-^ 
 
 • JDVALS • "FROM • THOS£ • sySTEMSJ<. 
 
 J^>i,> 
 
 C. R. ASHBEE. 
 
 Dec. iSgo. 
 

 TO 
 
 CHERISH 
 IS 
 
 LINESS- 
 
 S7- 
 
 c ic 
 
W. HOLMAN HVNT ON 
 THE OPENING OF THE 
 WHITECHAPEL PICTVRE 
 EXHIBITION OF MARCH 
 
 1888. mmmmmmmmmm 
 
35 
 
 I THINK, most of the gentlemen, who hitherto have stood 
 on this platform to address you, have used graceful and 
 appropriate terms of encouragement about the objedls and 
 hopes of these Exhibitions and of the advantages of Art to the 
 people. They have in all cases spoken from facts put before 
 them, and they have expressed themselves without the fear 
 and peril of being brought to book by the work of their 
 hands in form or colour. ^fJ 2^ ^^ 2^ s^ ^ti t^ 
 STANDING here now, I cannot help envying these gentlemen, 
 for, undoubtedly, it is a check upon the tongue when it is felt 
 that every word uttered may bring, not others only, but 
 oneself to judgment. What my predecessors here said was, 
 I am well assured, most judicious and encouraging, and I 
 wish to express this very markedly with gratitude for their 
 endeavours in the cause of Art, because, being a practical 
 man myself, I feel that you will expecft me to take a course 
 which will be altogether independent. You will not require 
 me to deliver an oration ; you will rather count upon my 
 saying something that experience has taught me to be of 
 importance in its bearing upon the present state, and the 
 immediate outlook, of Art in England, and to show how it 
 may be affedted by the work that we are helping to conduct 
 here to-day : and you will agree that I should, above all 
 things, make my meaning plain, as one whose opportunities 
 are very rare. ^^ ^> ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^ft ^ft 
 THE remark about my inevitably being brought to judgment 
 for what I say, by what I show of my handiwork, will help 
 you to take my teaching at its true value — no more and no 
 less. And now that such streams of eloquence are poured 
 forth on Art, how I do wish the special professors 
 would all of them furnish us with examples by their own 
 hands of the finished theories they propound, that we might 
 see whether their ideal excellence was above the reach of 
 their hands, or how far otherwise their views have borne the 
 test of trial, for working artists often discover at their 
 morning's task, that the golden rule, which on the previous 
 
36 
 
 night promised to be so all-comprehensive, is, after all, but 
 of limited application. JfJf4JfJ^^4JfJ^^J^^ 
 UNDOUBTEDLY it is a great misfortune to the world, that the 
 great thinkers on Art, who have done much in research for 
 which the working artist has less time, and who publish 
 golden axioms, and confine principles to areas including no 
 debateable ground, should not be fully understood. ^ i^ if. 
 THE special hope in the spread of Art hunger among the 
 working classes is in the growth of an influence that shall 
 recftify the tendency to make the taste an exotic one. It is 
 often repeated at the present time, that of late years we have 
 been making the most satisfadlory progress in Art, and 
 certainly there can be no question as to the existence of 
 artists of the most accomplished power, and there can be no 
 gainsaying that the number of persons who devote themselves 
 to drawing, painting, and modelling, is five times or twenty 
 times what it was fifty years ago ; yet I cannot, I confess, 
 see cause for joining in the general rejoicing on our condition. 
 AN old officer who was present at Waterloo, being asked 
 whether there was any ground for believing that Napoleon 
 Bonaparte would have gained a viftory if the Prussians had 
 not arrived on the field, replied as follows : " When victory 
 and defeat in battle are talked of, people often forget to 
 consider the different objedls of the two armies. Napoleon's 
 endeavour was to get into Brussels ; the Duke's purpose 
 was to keep him out." To judge of the success of an effort 
 you must consider the end to which it is directed. Now, 
 it seems that we often make the decision about the progress 
 of Art without reflection as to the purpose of the training, of 
 which we see so many signs. Is the taste of the nation 
 improving ? Are we really overcoming the forces that prevent 
 us from taking the city of unrefinement and converting it into 
 the capital of our desire ? Or are we merely wasting our 
 energies in profitless display of valour ? This is the inquiry 
 that it behoves us in the most earnest spirit to make. iL iL 
 THERE are, in history, two nations, who may be adduced as 
 special types of vitality in this particular. In Greece, the 
 sculptors and painters of ideal humanity, who attained 
 perfedlion as to beauty of proportion and grace of movement, 
 which has never since been altogether reached, while studying 
 their parts, perfeiSted a taste for design of forms, and of 
 ornament upon these forms, which spread from the highest to 
 the humblest of the people, and these last recognized it as the 
 heraldry of their nation. AH things issued from their divided 
 
37 
 
 stores, every ship that sailed out of its distant ports, each piece 
 of armour worn, and all the weapons carried by its soldiers, 
 bore this stamp of their artists' mind, and this, not less than 
 their language, was strong to resist their destrudtive facftions 
 and their jealous politics, which were striving to tear the 
 Hellenic races asunder. JfJfJf^J^^^JfJfJ^^ 
 PASSING over other less marked nations we are confronted 
 by the case of a kindred kind in Italy. Destiny had so ruled 
 that the whole work of learning Art had to be recommenced. 
 The little help vouchsafed from the examples of exhumed 
 marbles and pictures was not enough to divert the artists of 
 the new nation from working out her secrets direct from 
 Nature herself. The aid was only enough to stimulate to 
 excellence not yet attained. The compensation for a less 
 perfedt grandeur of ideality than the Greeks had invented, was 
 the realization of a sweeter expression of human love and 
 sympathy — the which was due and proper to Christian 
 teachings. The genius of design, not less than its poetry, made 
 a people of varied blood again one nation, and here we have 
 Vasari, as well as the work itself, to testify that the human- 
 figure designers became the architects, the artificers, the 
 decorators, the goldsmiths, and the ornamentalists of all kinds. 
 THE word Renaissance is sometimes understood too literally. 
 It was not a return to Latinism by mere imitation. It was in 
 very fulness a rebirth. It came from the East as all life did. 
 Constantinople was dying before the eyes of Christendom, and 
 she left her babe to Italy, and with its growth it took new 
 thoughts andnewforms, and thus the Italyattained a glory which 
 has saved her since in many a dark hour. The name was, in 
 fadt, a prophecy and a promise to her. And the work that she 
 did by her Art in its hope, has brought about her regeneration 
 as a nation, more than the schemings of all her politicians, 
 more than the bravery of all her armies, if. ^ i^ i^ i^ 
 NOW there are signs of life and movement here, in this 
 generation. You have only to pass by Mr. Morris's shop in 
 Oxford-street to see what the energy of one artistic individual 
 can do in a few years on a barren soil. Other master-minds 
 might be named, and we need not wonder at this in a 
 country which has had more great artists than any other 
 nation of the two last centuries, in which, indeed, till the 
 middle of the eighteenth century, houses of no great pretention 
 as to proprietorship had carvings of exquisite taste, and where 
 there was metal work of great gorgeousness, and when before 
 such decoration came to an end, the manufacture of porcelain 
 
38 
 
 had begun, which, for its dehcacy and perfection of design, 
 gained a niche for itself in every museum of Ceramic Art in 
 the civilized world. Every old-fashioned house will show 
 there were other ranges of design, and somehow all this 
 disappeared in a day, when George IV. was King, and what 
 has been brought in its place is ugliness, and genteel or 
 ■dilettante tastefulness, not art. ®®@®®®@® 
 THERE is no doubt about the ability in our sons and daughters 
 to do the work ; but the want is in the intelligence of ourselves 
 — I mean we who should welcome all true effort to make due 
 demand for what is living and true — in the absence of shame 
 at the appraisement of gimcrack toy work, or of the mere copy 
 of the graceful inventions of a dead generation over the 
 strivings continually made by individuals to give the world a 
 new life. The slowness to recognize that the encouragement of 
 Art does not consist only in the establishment of schools — a 
 very good thing in its way under proper restraint — and the 
 giving of medals, which, on the scale now adopted, is a very 
 bad thing indeed, if only because it tends to make us think we 
 are gaining victories, when, in fa(5t, we are only waving flags. ® 
 LADIES and gentlemen, I knew that I should not make a 
 speech in good taste, with compliments all round. Perhaps 
 you will say that I am a perverse prophet, but let us see 
 whether I am not right : if not, I shall rejoice. ® ® @ ® 
 HERE is a sixpence ! here a shilling ! here a penny ! Take 
 up in your mind's eye a coin of old Greece and one of Italy 
 {we have lately had a precious collection of these last exhibited), 
 and compare the modern and the old, and think what a paltry 
 people we shall appear to posterity with such miserable 
 examples of our coinage to be judged by. ® ® ® ® ® ® 
 THEN take our costume. Is it conceivable that, having 
 gradually culminated in ugliness in male dress (I won't speak 
 of ladies' fashions) we should remain practically fixed in that 
 for eighty years ; and that in this hideous, this funereal series 
 of funnily-shaped patterns of cloth, gentlemen should have the 
 effrontery to stand up and congratulate their hearers upon the 
 great advance of taste in the country ? The traditions and 
 prejudices of the country are in favour of regarding this 
 matter as beneath the attention of serious men ; then I say, 
 why profess to have a taste ? ®@®®®®®® 
 THEN, as to public ornamentation. Virgil tells us of the 
 palaces of Carthage being decorated with hangings, illustrating 
 the deeds of heroes. The buildings all over the world then 
 were equally adorned, and we know every building in Italy, in 
 
39 
 
 the middle ages, had paintings in which one master had 
 emulated another to attain perfedtion : putting on beautiful 
 record heroic fadts and dreams, and making every member of 
 a cornice blossom into spring life. These testified to the 
 instin(5ls of the nations. Do we see anything of the kind ? 
 Is there one public building being decorated ? Think of all 
 the poetic associations awakened by the names and objedts 
 of our public City Companies : the Goldsmiths, the Armourers, 
 the Fishmongers, the Mercers, &c., &c., and go into their 
 handsome halls, and ask for the examples of their Art taste. 
 You will see certain portraits, some of which have great 
 interest. Many of these companies have made a noble use of 
 portions of their funds of late, but I know not of one pound 
 spent as the Art nations, we spoke of lately, thought it wise to 
 use the wealth of their generations. ® ® ® ® ® ® ® 
 LOOK on the Holborn Viadudt and consider the taste which 
 allowed the clumsy bronze dummies there to be regarded as 
 statues. A few years since in St. Paul's Cathedral, an 
 ambitious idea was realized, of which the authorities must 
 have received commendation from all men of taste. It was 
 the copy in mosaic of a figure of Christ by Raffaelle. This 
 illustrates in part what I mean by dead Art. Do you hear of 
 any people with live taste so using their national temples ? 
 No ; I say there is yet no revival of Art taste in England ; 
 and the secret of this is that as yet the Art world is thought to 
 have no interest for the people. It is kept to a little seftion 
 of society who wish to be very superior. Like the philosophers 
 of Nero's time, who did not want their wisdom to reach the 
 masses, but who charged one another to be not of the body of 
 the garment, but to be the purple border. ® ® ® ® @ 
 A RICH gentleman recently told me that he had been 
 passionately fond of old cloisonne enamels, and had collected 
 specimens at great cost ; but when the demand in Europe 
 made examples numerous he grew disgusted, and he sold 
 every specimen he had. This I call an example of selfish 
 refinement, which can bear no fruit of good. The vanity 
 affedls other pursuits in this day — we have to deal with it in 
 Art — and I repeat, the best hope of curing it is in the 
 co-operation of the working classes ; and I look, therefore, upon 
 the efforts being made by our friends here as calculated to 
 bear the best fruit, if we take advantage of the common sense 
 with which they are disposed to take up a pursuit, if not led 
 astray by false allurements. ®®®®®®®® 
 THERE ought to be great difference between the visitors to an 
 
40 
 
 Exhibition at the West-end of London, and the pubhc of the 
 East who come to this Exhibition ; for the habit of hard work, 
 of any regular kind, makes its votaries very indifferent to 
 fashion, eminently serious-minded in every pursuit it follows, 
 and thoroughly disposed to argue that steady persistence 
 alone is the way that leadeth to excellence. The last, on the 
 other hand, have a dread and fear of offending the canons of 
 current fashion, and their judgments are hampered by this 
 consideration, and also by a conception which is altogether an 
 erroneous one — that an artist is a man whose success, in his 
 productions, depends upon a totally different system of 
 training to that which leads to perfection in other pursuits. 
 We are often told that an artist lives in an enchanted 
 dreamland of his own, to which he has been born, and that 
 while the way of incessant study and toil for other men is the 
 only road to perfection, the artist is free to wander untamed 
 among the lovely scenes of Nature, assured, that in due time, 
 some felicitous inspiration will seize him, and that his genius 
 alone will enable him to dash off a thing of beauty that shall 
 be a joy for ever. There has been too much readiness to 
 believe such nonsense, and it has wrought, and it still works, 
 incalculable mischief to English Art. 5fr 5fr ^ ^ ^ 5^ 5^ 
 REAL apprenticeship is too little valued now. Works are 
 pointed out to us as great examples of genius, in which the 
 simplest problems of a technical or mathematical kind are not 
 overcome. We are told that it is a great triumph of masterli- 
 ness when not a form in the whole production is expressed 
 correctly, that a work is a sample of high Art when every 
 arrangement is vulgar and muddled. A few years since, a 
 youth was discovered to have scraped and scratched a bit of 
 stone into resemblance of a human head. What did the 
 people of taste and position, to whom it was shown, do. Had 
 it been a matter about which common sense were used, the 
 boy would have been put striCtly under inspection, perhaps 
 tuition, he would have been watched and proved ; but no ; his 
 well-meaning friends rushed to the conclusion that he was a 
 genius, and, without anything like training at all, the youth 
 was placed in a studio as his own master, and every influence 
 was used to get important public statues committed to his 
 execution. This absurd conduCt resulted in the disfigurement 
 of important public sites, and ultimately in the ruin of the boy 
 himself. §^5<^5^5^§fr5frSfr5^5<^§fr§^5<^5<^5<)» 
 NOW, children of labour ought naturally to look upon a work 
 of Art as an example of the highest kind of labour, and when 
 
41 
 
 a pidture is presented to them, as soon as the first wonderment 
 has subsided, I have observed they do so regard it. They 
 know that a good work bespeaks a long training of the brain 
 and fingers, and that the mind must have been exercised to 
 keep all distrafting egotistical assertions out of sight, lest the 
 spe(5tator should be drawn from the thought in the design. A 
 house they judge of, as good or bad, by its fitness for an 
 occupant. Boxes, carriages, boots, and clothes, are all put to 
 a similar test ; and they are wise in the conclusion that so 
 should a work of Art be judged. 5^ 5^ 5<^ 5^ 5^ 5^ 5^ 5^ 
 IT is true that the objedl of a work of Art is neither to plaster 
 over the walls, like wall paper, nor to keep the rain out, nor 
 has it the utility that boots or clothes have, but yet it has a 
 utility peculiar to itself — one not of small count in the days of 
 a man. Its aim is this : to unfold to the spe(5tator new delight 
 in life previously unregarded by him. If the mental food in it 
 is strong, it is not for children, except in many meals, or after 
 more or less dilutating by the followers of the artist ; but it is 
 justly remarked from local experience here, that recondite ideas 
 are not out of the range of the working classes. They pass a 
 painting quickly by if it makes no appeal to their love or 
 intelligence. I don't mean that they are always right, by any 
 means, at first. I would not believe any man whatever who 
 declared that he immediately appreciated Raffaelle's " San 
 Sisto," Michael Angelo's " Prophets," or Titian's " Sacred and 
 Profane Love," more than he appreciated commoner works. 
 It takes a long tuition to escape the snares of meretricious 
 creations, as we see by the admiration for Murillo's 
 " Assumption " and Guido's " Cenci," but the singleness of view 
 with which an unsophisticated workman or workwoman comes 
 to the question, does, I am sure, save them much bewilderment, 
 for as a piece of workmanship they undoubtedly look, for the 
 right characteristics in a work of Art. They do not search 
 out some particular mannerism of a famous master, and declare 
 that to be the quality that makes him great. 5^ 5fr 5^ §^ 5^ 
 AS an explanation, let me recall to the observant a trick which 
 the accomplished painter Gainsborough had of whipping his 
 backgrounds with a diagonal stroke downwards from right to 
 left. These streaks were as regular as though done by a 
 machine. The portraits were done for a price which only 
 allowed elaboration on the face, and perhaps originally, when 
 all glazes were inta(ft, the stripes were less obvious. Again, 
 there is a French painter of considerable merit, whose 
 landscapes are herring-boned with hog hair tools just as wide 
 
42 
 
 as each touch is long, so that the canvas in a certain sheen looks 
 like a piece of rush plaiting. if.ifif.)ifi^)if^)if. 
 THEN there is a new school of painting called " Impres- 
 sionists," who set out to give what they declare to be the 
 impression received by the eye from nature. (I wish they 
 were more fastidious in the fadls they seledt, because there 
 are scenes in the world which it gives neither pleasure nor 
 satisfaction of any kind to see.) Now, the painters of 
 these, get so proud of the hurry in which their works 
 have been done, that they leave glistening hairs distributed 
 where reposeful shadow should be. In some Continental 
 landscapes you look in vain for anything definite except 
 the name of the author, which shoots zigzag across the 
 canvas like those toy stands for regiments of soldiers we had 
 in our childhood. Now, all of these are features which receive 
 reverential worship at the hands of certain authoritative 
 persons as signs of masterliness, but in the eyes of the 
 handicraftsman, I think I am right in saying, they betoken a 
 certain contempt on the part of the author, for gaining 
 attention to deeper purposes in the work which should excuse 
 the spectator from giving it, for among the workers whose 
 pi(5tures have gained more respedt as centuries have gone by, 
 there was always an infinite amount of variety of touch and 
 method and of mystery in the execution, which has made the 
 world indifferent to the fail of their being more or less 
 elaborately finished. I dwell upon the faculty of discrimination 
 on these points, because this seems to have much to do with 
 real taste. 4JfJ^Jf4J^J^.^4JfJ^J^ 
 I HAVE, perhaps, more reliance upon the prospect of finding 
 the humbler public safe from bias of misdiscretion since I was 
 at an exhibition where many precious works were on view. It 
 was arranged mainly for the delight of the masses, and well 
 did the coUedtion deserve admiration and reverence, but there 
 were many very pretentious French works among them, which 
 it was the fashion to rate as being equal in claim to some of 
 the great Italian, Flemish, and last century English master- 
 pieces. With these was a Greuze. I have seen paintings by 
 this painter deserving a passing regard — but this was a 
 miserable specimen. It was intended for a female with up- 
 turned face — a view which does try a shallow draftsman. 
 Here every feature was formless, and out of place, and yet the 
 picture at Christie's would have fetched a little fortune. 
 I had left it with a feeling of despair for the minds of the poor 
 visitors, whose taste and discrimination were to be raised ; and 
 
43 
 
 my despondency had scarcely been chased away by some noble 
 work opposite, when a noisy party approaching from a further 
 room caught my attention : the talker was at the head of some 
 youthful men and women. " Now," said he, " I will show you 
 the simple fright of the whole collecftion," and he held out his 
 hand to the jellified face. The whole company, I rejoiced to 
 hear, agreed in condemning the pretentious canvas. H. if. if. 
 IT would be idle to bring out the fa(5t that the sons of labour 
 have a healthy instincft for Art were there no lesson to be 
 enforced. I have said before that the crjang want in our 
 generation is a really decorative instindt, and that without 
 this, Art is a mere exotic in a country, never deep rooted, 
 and not able to live without glass-houses, and yet able to sap 
 nourishment from the hardy indigenous growth. Now, the 
 more you look at the whole mysterious fa<ft of the dis- 
 appearance of native ornamentation from England, the more 
 you will see reason to think that somehow the idea of Art has 
 been narrowed down to the mere painting of pitftures and the 
 making of statues. Why, a little while ago, any consideration 
 as to the charadter of the frame of a painting, was considered 
 eminently inartistic. The great Turner in his last days put 
 his works in vulgar twists and twirls of mouldings that 
 would have degraded a foot scraper. You will ask why ? 
 unless you remember that, as it was, he had the whole 
 of England assailing him. ififif.ifif.if.if.if. 
 A SHORT time since, in the window of a framemaker's 
 window in Cranbourne Street, I saw a facsimile of a letter from 
 Hogarth to the Society of Lincoln's Inn, with a sketch in it by 
 himself of the manner in which his pidture there should be 
 framed. The letter was dated about 1750, and between this 
 and 1840, the idea that artists should have a voice in anything 
 outside of their canvas or marble had entirely disappeared. 
 All prejudices die hard in England, and not only here, for it is 
 worse abroad ; but this " little learning " idea of Art has to be 
 corrected. If you would make fully effecftive the great and 
 able machinery you have all over the country to teach design, 
 it must be done. At present there is a tendency in the 
 workings of the Government schools to induce the ambitious 
 students to discard artisanship, and to become painters or 
 sculptors. I believe the directors wish to discourage the 
 disposition to neglecft ornamentation, but without the aid of 
 the press, and of the public, it is impossible to hope for much 
 result, for the notion that nothing but painting and sculpture 
 are worthy the name of Art is ingrained in the country, and I 
 
44 
 
 hear on all hands, complaints of the rarity of Art workmen 
 trained to take their places in decorative establishments, a^a^ 
 THE departure from decorative taste is infinitely disastrous 
 on the Continent, where the painting of pidtures has become a 
 means of pandering to brutality, and the representation of a 
 dunghill or a slaughter-house is a high achievement. We are 
 getting perilously nigh to this in England, for imitation alone 
 is considered the end of Art, and no temptations are given to 
 divide Art into ignoble imitation on one side, and inventive of 
 all kind on the other, as the only noble Art. c^a^s^s^^^ 
 RECENTLY, a large sum of money which had accumulated 
 from the reserves of the old British Institution was devoted to 
 founding scholarships for painting. This all goes to inducing 
 young men to disregard the particular pursuit for which the 
 the Schools of Design were founded, and to enter themselves 
 as aspirants in a branch of the profession already preposterously 
 overcrowded with unhappy artists who are incapable of taking 
 upon themselves the work of decoration, ^^a^^^^^^^a^ 
 UNDOUBTEDLY were there large work going on, better 
 than all school instruction would be that afforded of old time 
 in a master's workshop. Now, what is, in fact, a small copy of 
 this system is being established here, by Mr. Ashbee, at 
 Toynbee Hall. For some time he has had volunteer working 
 boys and men giving their leisure time for instruction and 
 participation in decorative work. He has now organized a 
 scheme for fuller operations, and I commend to your earnest 
 attention his prospectus, as affording a near opportunity of 
 making Art what it ought to be in England a truly national 
 heraldry that should stamp our branch of the great Scan- 
 dinavian race all over the world, a^^^^^^^^^j^^l^^^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
ALMA TADEMA,R.A.,ON 
 SCVLPTVRE. Ui^^UUi 
 
47 
 
 SCULPTURE is negledted in England. In a country 
 where there are so many beautiful specimens of the art in 
 our cathedrals, we ought to try to regain what is perhaps 
 the highest of the arts, and the noblest expression of the artistic 
 spirit. I say " perhaps " — you must excuse the painter's 
 " perhaps ; " for though there is more realism in sculpture than 
 in painting, though the sculptor has a more material way of 
 communicating his feelings ; yet, on the other hand, the 
 painter has more means at his disposal than the sculptor. 
 For instance, the painter can give you a certain "atmosphere," 
 he can make you almost forget that his portrait is only a 
 portrait ; but a sculptor — he cannot do that, and his art must 
 always therefore remain more realistic, more material. It is, 
 for this reason, that, for what may be called " fancy subjetfts," 
 the public looks to painting rather than to sculpture, t^a^a^ 
 NEVERTHELESS it is a great pity that sculpture should 
 be so much at a discount as it is in England now. And 
 of what is this the result ? — It is the result of wrong ideals, 
 both among artists themselves and among the public. The 
 subjedl of sculpture is partly the offspring of the modern idea 
 that our fathers were worth nothing, and that whatever we do 
 we must do all " off our own thumb." Why, I have heard 
 Parisian artists propose to burn all the contents of the Louvre 
 and throw -them into Seine. I call that a wrong ideal : it is 
 false,— this feeling of our being so much better than our 
 forefathers— false and irreverent! s^t^^^e^^s^a^ 
 I WILL tell you a story of the celebrated French artist, 
 Courbet, which illustrates many things relating to the " subjedt " 
 of sculpture, and will show you what I meant by saying, that 
 it is a materialistic art. A young man one day brought him 
 an ambitious work representing an angel. " Have you ever 
 seen an angel?" inquired the master. "No, sir," replied 
 the young man. " Neither have I," was the master's parting 
 word ; " go away ! " That is it, — unless the art is the material 
 representation of what you see, — it is nothing ; it has no 
 necessary funiftion in life. And, indeed, this can be applied 
 
48 
 
 further still, and to all art. All great art must, in some form 
 or other, bear relation to life — be in accord with the things we 
 daily see and feel. A friend of mine, a Scotch lady, has said 
 so beautiful a word on this subjecft that I have written it on 
 the walls of my studio : "AS THE SUN COLOURS 
 FLOWERS, SO ART COLOURS LIFE."^^^ 
 NOW, in this matter of sculpture we certainly seem to be 
 doing our best ; our good friends, the architects, do what they 
 can ; all over London there are pedestals on our public 
 buildings ; pedestals here, pedestals there, pedestals every- 
 where ; but unfortunately all the pedestals remain empty. 
 Yet what opportunities they would afford for sculpture to colour 
 life ! What opportunities, for instance, for the sculpture of all 
 kinds of virtues : for help to the poor and all that kind of 
 thing ! And not only are opportunities thrown away, but 
 even the architedlural effect of our buildings is spoiled by the 
 neglect of them. For instance, there are big pedestals left to 
 finish off the National Gallery ; but only the small domes 
 are executed. These were designed to be supported by 
 groups of sculpture. As it is, the domes look very ugly — like 
 pepper-pots ; but if the sculptures had been added, to supply 
 what artists call a sky-line, they would be complete. 5c» 5<^ ^ 
 WHY is public sculpture thus negledted ? I think that the 
 system of competition is largely to blame. Competition in 
 everything ; competition in our national life in general, 
 competition in our system of art produdtion in particular. 
 Take the instance of the creating of works of art for public 
 buildings ; Competition and Officialism ! There is one nice kind 
 of tape which I hate, and that is red tape ; but a man who 
 exists only by this tape naturally won't let it loose : on the 
 contrary, he sticks to it — he would lose his salary if he didn't. 
 The proposed new War Office was a scandalous case. 
 Distinguished artists were appointed to decide. Several 
 people competed : and the competition was decided in 
 favour of a country firm. The firm was delighted and 
 came up to London ; but then red tape came up too — in 
 fa(fl was already there, and decided that after all there 
 should be no new War Office. This ought not to be. If 
 a man goes in for a competition and gains it, then he 
 ought to have the job. {This sentiment was loudly cheered.) S^ 
 THEN there is another case. I have been told that all the 
 money left for sculptures on Blackfriars Bridge has been 
 swallowed up in competitions that have all come to nothing. 
 Now, that's a pity ! It would have been much better that 
 
49 
 
 one of the competitions should have been accepted, even if 
 inferior works had been chosen, than that there should be 
 no money left for any sculptures at all. However, now there 
 are some more empty pedestals to go with the others ! 5^ 5^ 
 LOOK at France. How is it that France is so rich, even 
 after having been vanquished in a disastrous war and after 
 paying an enormous war indemnity ? She is defeated : she 
 pays; and yet she does not lose her European supremacy 
 in art. Why ? It is because her people are easily first in 
 artistic skill and taste. And as that is so, you still understand 
 how much I appreciate all new efforts, such as you are making 
 here at Toynbee Hall, with this School and Guild of Handi- 
 craft of yours, to spread the feeling for art and beauty. 
 As soon as we English can make our productions as tasteful 
 as the French, our work will be better than theirs, for already 
 it is more solid. Our earthenware is better than any other. 
 Our Minton ware and Doulton ware are admirable. I was at 
 Rome not long ago, and went over the Farnesina Palace, and 
 was pleasantly struck by finding a Minton pot on a mantel- 
 piece, holding its own in the company of Raphael and Michael 
 Angelo. {Cheers.) ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 BUT we cannot expeft to make all our produ(5tions more 
 tasteful until the love of beautiful things is more widely spread 
 among our people. To implant this love in the individual is 
 the great thing wanted, and the greatest thing of all is to 
 make every workman feel that he is an artist. This 
 Minton and China ware is called " industrial art." Now, 
 that phrase is an invention of modern times. In the 
 great times of art there was no " industrial art " : all 
 art was simply "art." The new idea is one result of 
 the division of labour which charadterizes modern times. 
 In some things the change is good. In old times a painter 
 was also a maker of pots. Well, a painter now could probably 
 make pots too if he tried ; but perhaps after all it is better that 
 he should confine himself to the higher branch of art. That 
 is the good side of division of labour ; but if it is not also 
 to have a bad side, we must take care that the man who 
 sticks to making pots do^s not lose the sense that he, too, 
 is an artist. {Cheers.) ^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 EVERYBODY cannot be a Raphael, and everybody cannot be 
 a Pheidias ; but everybody can be something. Everybody can 
 say with De Musset, " If my glass is small, yet I drink out of 
 my own glass." Every stone cannot be the corner stone, but 
 every stone has its place ; if it had not, no building and no 
 
5° 
 
 society could stand. If only every artist who carved beautiful 
 stones, and every artist who drew beautiful faces, would 
 recognize that each sincerel}' admired the other, then we 
 should all see that we were brethren in art together. @ @ @ 
 THE love of Beauty is the root of all good, and I am glad 
 to note some favourable sign of a movement in the present 
 day towards the wider dispersal of taste : I lay great 
 value, for instance, on the Kindergarten system, which 
 recognizes that children take interest in the forms of things 
 before they do in literary ideas — that education, in other words, 
 should begin with the eye rather than with the ear. The 
 recognition of this principle in early education develops in a 
 child a taste for art that never leaves it ; it is the means of 
 teaching that source of pleasure, the possession of which a 
 friend envied me the other day. " You enjoy," she said, 
 " things in nature which I pass by without seeing." This 
 taking pleasure in natural forms, is not only a source of 
 happiness, but is the secret of success in " industrial art " ; 
 and this form of art is nearer perhaps to sculpture than to 
 Daintin^. © ^ @ ® @ @ @ ^ @ ^ ® ® @ 
 I CANNOT lay too much stress on the importance of this 
 relationship between sculpture and industrial art ; of the 
 value a little understanding of sculpture will be to you who are 
 engaged in industrial art, and of the need for your studying 
 and enjoying it. Why, there is sculpture everywhere — the 
 elements of sculpture are in everything. There is sculpture in 
 this lamp on the table before me. Its manufaifture has 
 required considerations of shape and proportion, and that is 
 sculpture. There is sculpture in the handle of a tool. The 
 handle has to be given a certain sweep, certain lines of 
 curvature ; that is sculpture ; and the greatest of all the 
 periods of Art was the Greek period, and that was the period 
 of sculpture. @^@'@@@@@@@@@ 
 NOW, why is it that Greek art was so grand ? It is simply 
 because Greek workmen took pleasure in everything they 
 made, no matter how simple, and because they tried to make 
 everything as well as they possibly could. Take their tiles, 
 for instance. They are not so hard-baked as Roman tiles, 
 but they are simply the best tiles ever made. And this 
 same sense of industrial delight inspires the Art of the 
 Japanese ; why has their Art so remarkable an influence on 
 us to-day ? Simply because the Japanese workman loved the 
 thing he did for its own sake, for the pleasure it gave him, 
 for the play he had in it. @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 
 
51 
 
 LET us try and do that too ! We need not sacrifice the useful. 
 Make a thing useful and the useful will be beautiful too, in order 
 to do it ! For instance, take the human hand : you cannot find 
 anything more beautiful than a well-shaped human hand : ever}' 
 curve in it matches every other curve. Well, now, if you have 
 to make a handle, you must make it fit this useful and beautiful 
 thing the human hand, and in doing that perfedlly it also will 
 be art, it also will be beautiful, because primarily it is useful ! ® 
 MY friends, believe me, the greatest happiness in life is to do 
 a thing thoroughly and to take interest in making it as 
 good as you can — the thing need not be costly, or rare, or of 
 any rich material, all it need be is to be good in itself. My 
 daughter brought home, the other day, a few very simple pots 
 from a country market place ; they were beautiful things, 
 those pots, and I am very glad to put them with any other 
 ornaments. A sculptor can do beautiful work in wood, just 
 as well as in marble. Nay, he always does work in clay, 
 which is cheap stuff enough ; and if only clay would 
 remain, he would leave his work in clay. He puts his 
 statue into marble in order that it may last, but there is no 
 more art in the marble statue than there was in the clay. 
 And you ask me what it is that makes the art ; I say it is the 
 love of the beautiful form : — the love of beauty. @ ® @ @ 
 MY FRIENDS, LET US APPLY THIS LOVE OF 
 BEAUTY TO EVERYTHING. IF WE DO, WE 
 SHALL MAKE OURSELVES HAPPIER AND 
 OTHERS HAPPIER TOO. (Prolonged cheers.) ® ® 
 
^x 
 
henry holiday on 
 "the artistic aspects 
 of edward bellamy's 
 ^looking backward.' " 
 
55 
 
 I MUST assume that most of you have read Looking Backward, 
 and if those whom I am addressing resemble those with whom 
 I have discussed the book, I may further assume that it has in- 
 spired the large majority of you with the enthusiasm of hope, 
 and, may I not add, with the determination yourselves to assist 
 in promoting the fulfilment of that hope ; but my experience 
 leads me also to believe that with some of you that hope is 
 qualified by misgivings as to the practicability of our author's 
 scheme, that to others the state of society represented is not 
 in itself attractive, though preferable to that of the present day, 
 with its terrible proportion of destitution, misery, disease, and 
 crime, and finally, that a very small, I might say a negligable 
 proportion, object to the scheme altogether, as neither practic- 
 able nor desirable. I need hardly say that I do not refer 
 to the individual objectors as neghgable, only to the smallness 
 of their numbers, -^^^^t^^^^^^^ 
 TO those who feel that the dawn of a bright future for 
 humanity is breaking, let me say, not by way of damping 
 their enthusiasm, rather to help in confirming their faith, 
 that any faith, which is to be known by its works, must 
 be based upon a genuine conviftion well understood in its 
 grounds. A generous aspiration may supply the lever, but 
 not the fulcrum. It was a fulcrum that Archimedes needed 
 to move the world. It is the world that has now to be 
 moved, the living social and industrial world, and our fulcrum 
 must be immutable. «^^«^^#^^^^?^ 
 
56 
 
 I RECENTLY read a paper on this subject, in which I 
 endeavoured to answer three practical objedtions urged by 
 some to Mr. Bellamy's scheme of Social and Industrial 
 reform. (i) That it would require a regenerated human 
 nature to carry it into effeft. (2) That it does not supply 
 a sufficient incentive to work. (3) That the equality of 
 material reward is neither just nor desirable. 5^ 5^ 5^ 5^ 5^ 
 THIS evening I propose to consider objecStions urged in 
 connedtion with the probable influence of Nationahsm (for 
 so the new scheme is called) on habits of life, on taste 
 and on art.S^ ^^^^^^^^^^§^^^^ 
 THE lefturer here summarized the economical arguments of the above 
 mentioned paper, particularly referring objedtors, who regard Mr. Bellamy's 
 as impraifticable, to J. S. Mill's analysis of a precisely similar scheme of joint 
 produftion and equal distribution, where he concludes by saying :^ 
 
 " WHATEVER be its merits or defedts, it cannot be truly 
 said to be imprafticable ; " and that " all the difficulties, 
 great or small," attending it, "would be but as dust in the 
 balance" compared with the evils of our present system. ^ Sfr 
 NOW, supposing that Mill was right in regarding a scheme of 
 joint production and equal distribution as practical, and, from 
 the economic point of view, immeasurably superior to the 
 system under which we live, what would be the effedl of such a 
 social and industrial change upon habits of life, taste, and art ? 
 IN the first place let me remind you that, the principles on 
 which Mr. Bellamy's scheme is based, are not new. This is 
 evident from the passages cited from Mill, which occur in an 
 examination of the systems of St. Simon, Fourier, and others. 
 Those who have heard any of the Fabian ledtures will know 
 how the able members of that Society have been advocating 
 similar principles for years. Many of you have, I doubt not, 
 read the remarkable volume of essays published by them in 
 January. The work itself, and its rapid sale, are veritable signs 
 of the times. To those of you who have not read these essays, 
 I earnestly commend their careful study. They are especially 
 instrudtive where they deal with that aspedt of the subjedt now 
 before us. The reason why I have made " Looking Backward" the 
 starting point of the present address is, that Mr. Bellamy's book 
 has, far beyond anything else that has appeared, called the 
 attention of the whole educated world to the possibility of 
 abolishing the frightful evils which desolate an immense 
 proportion of the population in every civilized country, which 
 destroy at once their happiness, their health, their morals, 
 while the presence of these ruined and depraved thousands in 
 
57 
 
 our midst, gives a constant heart-ache to all but those who 
 have no heart to ache. 5^5frS^5<^5fr5fr^-fr5^.V5^5^5^ 
 NOT only ha.s " Looking Backward," by the vividness of the 
 pidture which it presents, and by the persuasive arguments put 
 into Dr. Leete's mouth, attrac5ted and convinced many who 
 hardly ventured on the study of theoretic writings, but the 
 scheme of social and industrial life, depicted by Mr. Bellamy, 
 has been thought out in a truly remarkable manner that has 
 compelled the respeft of our ablest and most pradtical men. 
 Even on the subjedts of which the book does not treat diredlly, 
 it conveys principles by which these subjedts may be followed 
 out by the reader. Such a subjedt is that of taste and art. It 
 is lightly dwelt on, and while it is by no means ignored, there 
 is nothing to show that the Bostonians of the year 2000 do not 
 possess generally similar tastes to those of the present day, 
 though these tastes in the year 2000 are shared by the whole 
 community and under favourable conditions. But if the tastes 
 are not described, the influences at work on them are, and we 
 can form our conclusions. §^^§^^§^§»^§^^^k^ 
 ETHICS, and resultant habits of life, are dealt with more at 
 length in our book, for which reason I will only touch briefly on 
 this part of my subjedt, and also because I have heard very few 
 deny that, if pradticable, the system would be wholesome in its 
 moral influence, though many make the great mistake of 
 supposing that moral change must precede the inauguration of 
 the system. §^§^§»-^^^^^§^§^^§<^§^^^ 
 ALL that is needed is that society be enlightened to perceive 
 that our self interest is better served by working with our 
 neighbours than by fighting against them, that the latter course 
 is wasteful, and we are the poorer by it, while the former is 
 beyond description the more profitable, and we are richer. 
 The ultimate effedt of substituting friendly co-operation for the 
 free fight which is the only principle now governing our 
 produdtion and distribution, must undoubtedly be favourable 
 to morals, to a higher ethical standard of honesty and of 
 brotherhood, and, as a matter of fact, I have only heard one 
 complaint as to a moral result of the system before us, and a 
 very curious complaint it is. Some persons fear that if we are 
 all too comfortable, there will be no field for benevolence 
 and self-sacrifice. ^^^^^^^^^^^i^'-O"^^ 
 NOW, if this criticism came from the miserable and destitute, 
 if I found these asking that their misery and destitution might 
 continue in order that comfortable people should enjoy the 
 luxury of exercising the virtue of benevolence, then it might be 
 
58 
 
 necessary to discuss this difficulty. But while I only hear the 
 objedlion made by persons, who, leading a comfortable life 
 themselves, iind a worthy pleasure in doing good, I do not 
 think we need consider it very gravely. ^-Jji-^^^^^-j;^^ 
 I THINK it is in Washington Irving's " Knickerbocker," that 
 a Dutchman, landing with some others on a swampy low shore 
 in Australia, warms with delight at the scene, and exclaims, 
 " What a capital place for making dams and dykes." It 
 is as if one of our true-hearted Christian clergy, one of 
 those who tackle, with courageous faith, a neighbourhood 
 reeking with drunkenness, vice, squalor, and misery, instead of 
 yearning for the time when these might disappear, were to 
 regard the scene with great satisfaction, as a capital place to 
 establish a mission, and to hope that there might always be plenty 
 of such regions, because otherwise there would be nothing for 
 the missions to do. Dickens has put the whole philosophy 
 compendiously into the mouth of Mr. Sownds the Beadle in 
 " Dombey and Son," when he is discussing the right of the 
 
 poor to marry, with Mrs. Miff, the pew-opener. 
 ^°"'p%t ^°°' THERE we have it. " We must have our poorer 
 
 classes to be relieved by the benevolent." -}{<■ -Jjc ■>!<• 
 ONE more illustration of this quaint topsy-turvy reasoning 
 and I will leave it. A young medical student, of New York, 
 whose talents had not met with the recognition he thought 
 they deserved, who had, in fact, been plucked in his examina- 
 tions, went to the diggings in California. A woman there, 
 hearing there was a doctor at hand, sent for him to see 
 her child who had a fever. The young man, seeing the 
 child's skin covered with a rash, said " Well, I ain't posted 
 up in spots, but let him drink this, it'll give him a fit, and then 
 send for me, I'm a stunner at fits." This was a strictly 
 practical course from our objector's point of view. Here 
 was " a stunner at fits," with no field for his talents and 
 energies. What was to be done ? Why ! provide one. ^ ^ 
 SURELY, in any condition of society among mortal beings, 
 there must always be occasions enough for unselfish helpfulness, 
 even though their be no " inferiors " to be visited. There will 
 always be room for sympathy in work, in disappointment and 
 in sorrow, in age and in joy, in success and in tranquil 
 happiness. Those who sincerely desire to diffuse happiness 
 around them will find daily opportunities, even though all the 
 oaths and drunkenness, the vice and crime, the brutish 
 ignorance and filth, the black darkness and despair, which 
 disfigure our boasted civilization, be for ever removed. -J^ -J^ -Jj^ 
 
59 
 
 PUTTING aside then, the fear that the world will be made too 
 happy — I wonder what idea those people have formed of 
 Heaven — let us turn to the positive aspect of our subject. And 
 first, let us ask what must be the effect of equality on our habits 
 and thoughts, from the ethical point of view. It requires some 
 imagination, by which I do not mean fancy, but our power of 
 forming a true mental image to realise the situation. Too 
 many persons transport one condition of Nationalism at a time 
 into our existing system with a grotesque result, which they 
 dismiss at once as absurd and impracticable. On this question 
 for instance, they protest that equality is impossible. -^ -Jjc ^ 
 LET us then recognise that, by the impossibility of equality, 
 all that we mean is that great inequalities of education, unfit 
 men for companionship on equal terms. Now, in Mr. Bellamy's 
 system, ever}' one starts with equal education. Every one 
 passes through the same course of varied work in the three 
 years' conscription of labour, so that equality of cultivation, 
 experience and manners is ensured, and the miserably immoral 
 notion must disappear, that work carries a taint of degradation 
 with it, while it is a mark of nobility to live idly on the work 
 
 nf nthprc Ji'i. ^i. .i^ ■^~ ^~ ^i- ■i'<- ^^ ■^- ^c ^^ y<. y<. ^^ ^. yc .i^ y<. 
 
 Ul ULIlCis. r,C r|X .^ .^ ?[S rfC -^ -^ /|V ^ .^ ?f\ •p. rjx >p. ,^ ^^^ .^ 
 
 THE elimination of the word " menial " from our language 
 will be a priceless gain. Few passages in 
 Looking "Looking Backward," are finer than that on 
 Backward, 117. j^enial work. Can meanness go further than 
 this, to ask a service of another which we should consider it 
 degrading to ourselves to render to them ? Can anything 
 influence our habits of life and thought more than the 
 abolition of so base a practice ? We all admit, in theory, 
 that we are one flesh and blood, and that moral offences 
 alone degrade, but we allow, nay, we make our fellow- 
 creatures do what we would refuse to do, and consider we are 
 justified by their lower position, though this low position only 
 means that they are born of hard working parents, and not of 
 privileged idlers. The answer always made to the absurdly 
 crude proposal to divide all property equallj- among the whole 
 population is, that if we were all made equal by Act of 
 Parliament on Monday morning, we should all be unequal again 
 by Saturday night. The answer is quite sound, but has it 
 occurred to those who would mark varying amounts and values 
 of work by unequal material rewards, that the inequality which 
 would be on this understanding equitable in this generation, 
 would be inequitable in the next, unless we adopted the utterly 
 impracticable course of taking away the property acquired by 
 
6o 
 
 an able and active man at his death, in order to divide afresh 
 every generation ? Without such a process, the industrious 
 son of an inactive parent would start life at a great disadvantage 
 compared with the idle son of a diligent father. '^ '^ "^ '^ '^ 
 THIS consideration ought, I think, to show that differences of 
 material reward must be a wholly unsatisfa(5tory way of recog- 
 nising differences of productive powers. Personal distinction, 
 the high public estimation, which belongs to those who serve 
 their country well and ably, these are, at the present day, the 
 highest rewards, and they are the only ones not susceptible of 
 corruption and of being made engines of injustice against our 
 descendants. They are the only rewards which do not contain 
 within them a poison capable of sapping the life of that 
 brotherhood which is the central truth of Christianity, and of 
 fostering the putrefying diseases of snobbery, purse-pride, and 
 arrogance, with their correlative toadyism and servility. '^ '^ 
 COMMAND and discipline are essential factors in Mr. 
 Bellamy's system, but he believes, and I venture to think with 
 good grounds, that the social equality of all members of the 
 community would result in a very strong feeling 
 " Looking against rudeness and hectoring on the one side. 
 Backward," 154. ^^ insubordination on the other. $ ;# ^ ^ # 
 ANOTHER profoundly significant indication given by Mr. 
 Bellamy of the excellent effects of equality upon the whole 
 community, is that which concerns marriage, where he shows 
 that equality of status would remove all temptation to marr}' 
 except from genuine inclination. The importance of this 
 consideration can be best appreciated by those who have 
 read Francis Galton's " Hereditary Genius," which exhibits 
 one of the most interesting developments of the principle of 
 evolution. He makes it clear that mental and moral, as 
 well as physical, qualities, are derived from progenitors. 
 Natural selection, would here, as elsewhere, lead to the survival 
 of the fittest, but whether the fittest is the best, depends on 
 what it is to be fit for, on the environment for which the 
 organism is to be fitted. ^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 IN the icy poles and the glowing tropics, in the depths of the 
 ocean and in the running brook, on the mountain sides and on 
 the verdant plains, natural selection results in the development 
 and survival of those creatures fitted for their various habits. 
 Sunhght and verdure promote one class of organism — 
 darkness and slime another. ^^##^^^#$#^ 
 SO among human beings, a society subsisting by a healthy 
 and worthy spirit of emulation, will inevitably develop and 
 
6i 
 
 perpetuate the qualities best fitted for success under such 
 wholesome conditions ; while a society, subsisting by profit, 
 by giving the least and getting the most in every transaftion, 
 will, with equal certainty, develop and perpetuate all those 
 qualities fitted for success in a hostile struggle based upon 
 pure selfishness. Greed, a sharp eye for one's neighbours weak 
 point, an unswerving determination to take advantage of that 
 weakness, a fertility of resource in making the worthless appear 
 valuable, when selling, and in depreciating what is good when 
 buying, these and all the other requisites for piling up profits 
 have made cozening the one conspicuous Fine Art of the 
 nineteenth century, by virtue of that principle of natural 
 sele(5tion, which, in an environment of slime, developes the 
 crawling and creeping things fittest to thrive in it. ^ ^ ^ ^^ 
 BUT how does this consideration affedt marriage ? In the 
 most diredt manner. The natural selection, which, in a pure 
 society of equal status and honourable work, would lead people 
 to marry those who were, in person and character, most 
 attradtive, under our present system causes them, as a practical 
 necessity, to consider ways and means, and even without such 
 necessity, to incline towards the biggest establishment, the 
 highest rank, or the most successful profit-maker. The Ethel 
 Newcomes of Society indicate the fatal influence of our system 
 of inequality on marriage, and ultimately on the race. 
 Natural seledtion would continually raise our standard of 
 humanity. Naturally, young people, where education was 
 universal, would, in the vast majority of cases, be attrafted 
 by beauty, mental and physical. Artificial seledtion {i.e., 
 Natural selection under an artificial system) can alone 
 make young people marry money-bags and peerages. '^ «^ '^ 
 THIS depraving influence has so neutralized the more 
 wholesome, natural impulse, that the standard of humanity 
 is now lower, intellectually and physically, than in Athens 
 twenty-three centuries ago. ^^^^^"^^^l^^^^^i^ 
 I WILL now proceed to consider the influence of the 
 proposed system on taste, a subject, not distinguished by 
 any sharp line from habits of life and thought — the one 
 insensibly leading to the other ; and I will begin by quoting 
 
 again from Mill's " Political Economy," his judg- 
 Mill. p. io8. ment on the principle which governs taste under 
 
 the present system. -^^^^^^^^^^ 
 IT would be difficult to estimate too highly Mill's powerful 
 description of the vulgar ostentation, which is our miserable 
 substitute for taste in the present day, and I think you will 
 
62 
 
 feel how remarkably exadt is the contrast predidled by Mr. 
 Bellamy as the result of the social change he advocates. In 
 this passage he goes to the root of the matter. So long as 
 difference of material posessions exists and represents a differ- 
 ence of social power and distinftion, so long will ostentation 
 exist, so long will people surround themselves with finery for 
 the sake of display, instead of beauty for the sake of enjoyment. 
 What Mill well designates as the " silly desire for the appear- 
 ance of a large expenditure," will, under present influences, 
 always cause people to rent houses, to wear clothes, and take 
 what they are pleased to call their pleasures, not because they 
 like any of the things in question, but because it is expected of 
 the class of society to which they belong, or, too often, because 
 it is a mark of a class of society to which they would like to be 
 thought to belong. The whole system, the whole sentiment, is 
 corrupt, and the taste bred of the system and sentiment is 
 
 TXTrtrfViy nf" tHprn ^^ ^^ ^1 ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ 
 
 A GLANCE at our streets and at our costume, is sufficient to 
 show how depraved our taste has become, but of this I shall 
 have more to say when I speak of Art. I am now considering 
 not so much artistic taste as practical domestic and social 
 tastes, though here again there is no real line of demarcation 
 between these and art. Simplicity, as Mr. Bellamy shows, 
 must be the result of a system which, by removing the tyranny 
 of snobbery and the silly desire to do what everybody else 
 does, for fear of losing social status, sets us free to do what we 
 please, enables us to get a thing because it suits our individual 
 tastes, and not because our class of society expects us to get it. 
 Liberated from this servitude, there is no more chance of a man 
 surrounding himself with useless superfluities, which give much 
 trouble and little pleasure, than there is of a mollusc surround- 
 ing itself with a shell larger than it can manage. The mollusc 
 knows better than to be such a fool, and under a rational 
 system, perhaps even man may attain to the wisdom of the 
 
 molln^p ^^ @i ^^ @t ^3 @ ^^ ^^ @ ^ 1^ @ ^^ ^^ f^ @) ^i ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ 
 
 BUT there is an important complement to this simplicity of 
 private life, with all the freedom from care and worry which it 
 involves, and all the genuine enjoyment for which it provides, 
 and all the picturesque variety of social life and its surroundings 
 which must follow when each individual is absolutely free to 
 develop and give expression to his own personal tastes. That 
 other important aspecSt of the same subjeft is the simultaneous 
 development of splendour in public life. @<@@@@@@®@ 
 THE growth of the spirit of brotherhood would give infinitely 
 
^3 
 greater zest to the carrying out of great public works than can 
 exist under the pressure of the present struggle for life. @ @ ® 
 THERE would be a prospect then for a revival of that spirit 
 which produced the Parthenon, and the great middle-age 
 cathedrals ; but this point brings me so near the question of 
 art proper, that it will rather tend to simplification than to 
 confusion if I take this up now without dropping those questions 
 of taste and habit with which it is so closely allied.® i@ @ @ @ 
 LET us first enquire into the cause of the almost total absence 
 of art in our present life. It is admitted on all hands. It is 
 a matter of constant discussion. There are many clever, and 
 some noble works of art produced still, that is to say, there are 
 still men who, having made art their profession from a genuine 
 impulse, produce works which possess beauty, and sometimes 
 noble thought, but outside these isolated cases, where is the art 
 of our daily life, the art in our houses, in our furniture, in our 
 dress, in all our utensils, and in nineteen-twentieths of our 
 pi(5tures, and statues, and buildings ? Whence arises that 
 deadly uniformity, that depressing all-prevailing grayness — 
 but that is too flattering a term — that all-prevailing dinginess 
 which fills our life, so far as its external conditions are con- 
 cerned, and has filled it throughout this century ? Here and 
 there a few educated persons are cultivating taste in form and 
 colour as an exotic, but as a spontaneous growth it is gone. 
 Whether we look at the earlier, middle, or later years of the 
 century we find the same thing. If we walk through our older 
 or more recent streets, with some scattered exceptions, we 
 look in vain for a gleam of taste, for a ghmpse of anything that 
 can charm the eye, or refresh the mind. @@@@@@@@@ 
 INTERMINABLE rows of identical houses, all cut down to 
 one common type, or a babel of discordant and incongruous 
 styles. Slaves in chains must have built them, nothing else 
 can account for the gloom which they betray and produce. ® ® 
 ORNAMENT there is, ghastly ornament, all done to order 
 under heavy penalties, all alike, all representing — what ? — the 
 pleasure of the worker in fashioning it ? Good heavens, no, 
 it is done by machinery. It represents what is expe<5led of the 
 class of society to which the owners of the houses belong, or 
 wish to be thought to belong. @@@igi@i@@@@@i)®@ 
 LET us now look at dress. Here, surely, there will be more 
 freedom. Cannot the individual assert his personality here ? 
 Let us see. Here is a tram arriving at Moorgate Street, full of 
 well-to-do citizens going to their daily avocation. We can 
 note the charming variety of form, colour, and material, which 
 
IS the natural expression of that individuahty we all prize so 
 greatly. But what is it we see ? All dressed exactly alike, — they 
 must then certainly have found a type of dress so beautiful, so per- 
 fect, that they have voluntarily surrendered their individuality 
 as a tribute to that perfection which cannot be excelled. Is 
 it so ? Are these black cut-away coats, these black boots, 
 these cylindrical tubes of trousers, these black top hats, are 
 these the ideal for which all individuality is to be sacrificed ? 
 I heard a critic of " Looking Backward" deprecate the orderly 
 organization of the system he describes with the remark that, 
 " under such a routine people would be like sheep." What are 
 these like ? Black sheep it would seem, Gloom, and the total 
 absence of individuality are the characteristics of our system. 
 And why this deadly uniformity, this total absence of anything 
 to shew that the wearers of these clothes, the dwellers in these 
 houses, are anything but automata, all made to order, like the 
 hideous and barbarous things they wear and live in ? Are they 
 all alike ?^&^^^5^^^^^^&^^§^§^§^ 
 TALK to them in their offices and you might almost think they 
 are ; but know them intimately and you will soon find the widest 
 differences. Why, then, cannot they shew that they are 
 thinking, rational beings, possessing here and there a stray idea 
 of their own ? Are they slaves, or what does it all mean ? 
 Yes, they are slaves, all working in chains, crushed under the 
 tyranny of two relentless molochs, the great god Profit and the 
 great god Snob. These two have chained up Individuality, and 
 trampled her under foot. Beauty, they have expelled from 
 Society (with a big S.) There are one or two Sanctuaries 
 where she is still allowed a refuge, and the very few who are 
 ever allowed by the god Profit to have a spare hour, occasionally 
 visit her, but, if she appears in the street, the god Snob hoots 
 her and tramples on her. ^^^§^^^§^^§^§^ 
 EACH have their own weapons and instruments of torture. 
 Some of the victims of Profit suffer so grievously, that they 
 dare even to make a show of resistance. But it is futile and 
 short-lived. He has two clubs, called Supply and Demand, 
 and these he swings about mercilessly, and the wretched slaves 
 are soon cowed. Occasionally a feeble protest is made by 
 those who groan under the rule of the god Snob, but he also 
 has two clubs — Respectability and Social Status. At the mere 
 sight of them, down go the slaves prostrate, before their 
 relentless idol. And meantime, poor Individualism is wasting 
 away in her prison. §^^^Si^^§^^^^^^^ 
 NOW, to drop our metaphor, is there any exaggeration in the 
 
65 
 
 picture I have sketched ? I am confident there is not. Imagine 
 the effect, if we were to take any of the great pictures of Paul 
 Veronese, a man who lived in a great business community, a 
 mercantile state, and who drew all his images from his daily 
 experience. Take one of his works, such as the " Marriage at 
 Cana," and put all the figures into modern, respectable costume, 
 and you will then realise the extent to which taste has been 
 depraved by the intervening, rapid development of the 
 principle of competition for profit, and the growth of greed 
 for money, to the increasing exclusion of all other interests. 5«» 
 THAT which impresses me most strongly in the study of this 
 subject, is the extraordinary vitality of man's love of beauty. 
 Competition for Profit existed in the time of the great 
 Venetian Painters, but the world was thinly populated then, 
 and with a moderate effort, a man could live. Under these 
 conditions, the love of Beauty still flourished, so hardy 
 is it, that it takes long and cruel ill-treatment to suppress 
 it. It continued to flourish, but with less and less vitality 
 with the increasing populations, and resultant difficulty in 
 feeding them all. The wheat was there, but the thistles and 
 dandelions, and other coarse weeds were crowding it out. 
 Now, the weeds have covered the whole field, and though 
 the wheat is still there, she is hidden from the eye, stray 
 blades here and there, seldom ripening, are all that remain. 5«» 
 AND must it always be so — is there no hope for the future? 
 Heaven forbid ! All the best intellects and truest hearts in 
 the civilized world, watching the growing evil, have sought for 
 the causes, and have found them ; they know that this death of 
 beauty and brotherhood, this growth of selfish struggle and 
 deadly vulgarity are not necessary. That man, in a state of 
 freedom, loves variety in beauty rather than uniformity of 
 hideousness. He loves affection and good fellowship rather 
 than hate and antagonism. But what can he do ? If the 
 population had really exceeded the capacity of the land to feed 
 it, he could do nothing. But it is not so. There is abundance 
 for all. Why, the same people who talk about over-population 
 in one breath, talk about over-production in the next. Can 
 both be true ? No, but the evils belonging to our system, 
 which existed in the earlier times in so slight a degree that 
 they did not attract attention, have, with the growth of 
 population, become so rampant that our eyes have been opened 
 to them. We perceive the criminal folly of having heaps of 
 unsold goods in one place, and trade languishing for want of 
 purchasers ; and crowds of famishing creatures in another, 
 
66 
 
 almost houseless and naked, crying for the goods which are 
 rotting in warehouses, We perceive that it is hopeless to 
 expect that the haphazard system of distribution which did 
 fairly well when numbers were few, and nearly all got a 
 tolerable share, will also work when countries are crowded, so 
 that in the anarchic free fight of our present system, the strong 
 wallow in luxury, and the weak starve and moan. @ @ ^ @ 
 BUT I am forgetting that it is Art I am talking about — the 
 humanity question will come to the front. @ @ @ ® @ ^ 
 WELL, what has been the effecft of the free fight for 
 existence on Art ? Why this, that people have enough to 
 do to live, they have no time for anything else. They cannot 
 stop to think of enjoyment of life: their energies are exhausted 
 in the struggle for food, clothing, and a rojf over their heads. 
 Having, some of them, got this thing, then begins the struggle 
 to have more than their neighbour ; there is still no time to 
 think of enjoying life, they have got to imitate the class above 
 them. The labourer, who is successful and gets a rise in life, 
 looks forward to the joy of wearing a shiny black chimney-pot 
 hat. The tradesman, on whom the delights of broad-cloth 
 and pot hats have begun to pall, struggles and wears himself 
 out, in the hope of some day riding in a carriage, and so forth, 
 and so forth, through the whole degrading series ; snobbery 
 being the guiding impulse, profit- making the efficient machine; 
 sordid struggle for the necessities of life at the bottom of 
 the scale, far more sordid struggle to outdo one's neighbour at 
 the upper end of the scale. @^###@@@@@@ 
 WHERE do Art and Beauty come in ? Where is love of good 
 work gone? There is no time for either. "Will it pay ?" is the 
 one question, not " Do I love doing it ? " Is it worth having 
 when done ? If I don't produce the largest number of articles 
 in the shortest time, if I don't screw my workmen down to the 
 lowest wage they will put up with, and make my customers pay 
 the highest price I can get out of them, I shall fall behind in 
 the life and death struggle for profit. Beauty ? What have I 
 to do with beauty ? Will beauty pay ? Fashion ! that's the 
 point. Everybody is wearing this, everybody is asking for 
 that, — the other, oh, I don't keep it ; I assure you. Madam, its 
 quite gone out, no one asks for it. No one of consequence, 
 that is. @@®@@@@@@@'@®@''S'@®® 
 OH, the miserable crawling slaves, the god Profit on one side, 
 the god Snob on the other, ruling them with rods of iron, while 
 Beauty, scoffed out of Society, holds her lonely state in a 
 National Gallery. Does any one deny that this fairly 
 
6/ 
 
 describes modern treatment of Beauty. Hardly, I think, but 
 you will properly ask, how will Nationalism improve this state 
 of things ? It may be true that the severity of the present 
 struggle is unfavourable to Art, but will a routine system, like Mr. 
 Bellamy's, be more favourable ? You may eliminate the misery 
 and vice, and this will be a gain, but will you not have 
 substituted a uniformity of discipline, with an absence of 
 personal initiative, which will be as unlikely as the present 
 system, to result in beauty of work and individuality of idea.# 
 THIS is of course the question, and if I believed love of 
 beauty to be an acquired artificial taste, I should have great 
 hesitation in answering it ; but, I am quite confident, that 
 beauty is not an acquired taste. @@@®@@@@@ 
 IT is, in my opinion, an absolutely essential part of our nature ; 
 it may, by disease, be distorted into love of finery ; it may be 
 stunted and suppressed and crowded out with engrossing cares 
 and anxieties, till it is hardly, if at all, perceptible ; but to say 
 that human beings naturally prefer ugliness to beauty, would 
 be as rational as to say that they prefer pain and sickness to 
 health, misery to happiness. ®#®®®@@i@i®@ 
 I WOULD say we are what we are by virtue of all the 
 influences that have operated on us from the remote aeons, 
 when the primitive germs from which we are descended first 
 possessed a sentient organic existence. We have by an un- 
 erring and mighty process been moulded into our present 
 condition by the action of our environment. The harmony 
 between ourselves and that environment is not arbitrarily 
 determined but inevitable. Between our consciousness and 
 the minor, so called, accidents of nature there may be 
 occasional dissonance. Between our consciousness and the 
 great enduring facts of nature, under whose influence we have 
 come into existence, there must be consonance ; there must be 
 harmony, as between a child and the mother that gave it birth. 
 That quick response of our sentient nature to the great mother 
 Nature is Love of Beauty, and nothing can utterly destroy it, 
 except transportation to another universe. @ @ ^ ® ^ ® 
 IT has been universal, and is so still, where the foul monsters 
 Profit and Snobbery have not established their corrupting rule. 
 REMOVE these. Let men work in comfort, and without 
 sordid cares or corrupting motives, and they will naturally 
 prefer to work well than ill. Add to this the powerful incentive 
 of public esteem, and they will work with zest and vigour. @ 
 WHAT people call a routine in Mr. Bellamy's system, is a 
 simple series of inducements, which, by ensuring that each 
 
68 
 
 worker gets the full credit of his work, gives him the most 
 powerful incentive to distinguish himself by the excellence of 
 his work, or by the improvements he can effect. The various 
 grades supply an attradtion almost absent in our present 
 system to legitimate ambition^ while the absence of the vulgar 
 class distinctions of wealth and rank, and the leisure allowed 
 to all, gives opportunity to cultivate, and liberty to enjoy, 
 individual tastes. 5«»5^5«»5e»S»»5c»S©»5©»5«»§«»5«»5«»5©'5frS«>54^ 
 THESE last words remind me that I have scarcely touched 
 on one very potent factor among the conditions which affedt 
 the healthy growth of art. So far, we have only considered 
 the great moral, or rather immoral, forces, profit, i.e., the love 
 of money, which is the root of all evil, and snobbery, i.e., the 
 servile imitation of the monied classes, which substitutes finery 
 for beauty. These two, by degrading the higher moral and 
 intelleftual faculties, sap the vitals of Art, they poison it at the 
 roots. But there is yet another condition absolutely essential 
 to the healthy growth of Art, namely, leisure to cultivate, and 
 liberty to enjoy, the Love of Beauty. Art is a plant which 
 requires space, fresh air, and light ; without these, you may 
 secure the finest stock, you may plant it in the richest soil, but 
 the plant will wither, and the root itself perish in time. 5<^5frSfr 
 I HAVE already alluded to the facTt that, in earlier times, 
 when countries were thinly peopled. Art flourished even under 
 the same system which now kills it, because the evils inherent 
 in that system were not then fully developed. Time has 
 disclosed these evils, men have discovered the then unsuspected 
 power of capital, a power wholly beneficent if capital belong to 
 the community, but fraught with fearful peril when it is an 
 engine in the hands of the few, by means of which they can 
 enslave the many and exploit their labour. 5c»5«»5©»5®»S«»5©'5fr 
 THESE evils would, in all probability, have developed 
 themselves in time, even with thin populations, but, with the 
 large increase of these, their progress has been accelerated and 
 a new collateral evil has appeared. The crowding and 
 confusion, the extent and intensity of the struggle for existence, 
 consequent on the density of the populations, has left no room 
 for Love of Beauty, even if the root of that Love had not been 
 poisoned. 5»>5^5©»5«»5«»S®»S®»5«»§«»>5fr5®»5fr-5®,5o'Se»5©»5©»5»>5>- 
 IT is a common criticism, on the part of those who have given 
 " Looking Backward " a superficial glance, that even if they 
 concede that the scheme it exhibits might ensure a higher 
 average and more equal distribution of comfort, yet, a life so 
 completely organized would tend to produce a dull monotony, 
 
69 
 
 that much of the variety and charm of hfe would disappear, 
 that uniformity would replace individuality, and that Art 
 would decay under such conditions.^,^,o.5e»^-c»5<^.^-fr5^5^5^S^ 
 I HAVE, I hope, answered much of this already, and I 
 venture to think I have shown that individuality has almost 
 disappeared from the daily life of to-day. To an artist it is 
 inexpressibly comic to hear the slaves of the pot hat, the black 
 coat, the cylindrical trousers, and of the fashion-books 
 generally, talking about their precious individuality and the 
 necessity of cherishing it. When they have got a little, it 
 will be time to talk about its value. 5<^5o'5c<»5o»5^5fr.'^^£<^5^5<^ 
 BUT I have, so far, dealt with the moral forces alone which 
 have ruined individuality, and would now indicate how the 
 purely material conditions of the day, the crowding and 
 jostling, the hurry and anxiety, in a word, the tremendous 
 pressure under which we live, are no less fatal to Art than the 
 vices of greed and servile fashion. .*^J'<^5^5©»;?-o».;^.^-<^'^fr-5o»5©» 
 IT is only necessary to formulate the above criticism, to shew 
 that it will not bear a moment's examination. If it be true, 
 that order and leisure would be inimical to Art, then conversely. 
 Art would be promoted by disorder and turmoil. ^^5^5frS©» 
 IN this case, if I want to produce a great work of art, I had 
 better set up my easel in the middle of the roadway .Sfr5^5fr5»» 
 THE result would be an admirable symbol of the higgledy- 
 piggledy thing we call Art in the nineteenth century. Compare 
 this with the Art of the Media;val Guilds, and you will under- 
 stand my meaning. These guilds preserved a clear tradition 
 of Art, so well understood and studied, that one can recognise 
 the prevailing manner of any particular period, over a very 
 wide portion of Europe, but the order, which was the condition 
 of their work, and the absence of struggle and competition 
 and hurry, left each man perfecft liberty to develop his own 
 ideas within the tradition he had received, with the result, that 
 no two cathedrals in Europe are alike. Along with this 
 marvellous harmony of broad principle, which exhibits the true 
 genius of the age, we find that infinite variety of expression 
 which marks the true genius of the individual.5o»5<^S<^Sfr5o»5fr 
 COMPARE these noble results with the work of to-day. 
 Now, we either leave the art out altogether, and hand our 
 work over to the contractor, or we employ artists, who desire 
 to give individuality and interest to their work, but having no 
 established order, no style, reflecting their age (the age is far 
 too busy to be bothered,) make a haphazard choice, and 
 we get imitation Venetian, imitation Romanesque, imitation 
 
70 
 
 Thirteenth century, imitation Classic, or some nondescript 
 crank at which we shudder. '^■^^'^^'^^^ 
 THE state of things is humiliating. Only those can entirely 
 feel how humiliating, who can compare the noble and impressive 
 works which breathe the genuine, unaffecfted spirit of their 
 several ages and countries, with this hodge-podge, this Babel 
 of meaningless styles, which breathes the spirit of disorder and 
 turmoil. ^^^^'^^'^'^^^■^^^ 
 LET me offer a homely illustration of a very practical kind, 
 to those who really believe that order and organization would 
 tend to produce monotony, and to injure Art. '^ ^ ^ ^ 
 WHEN I first began professional work, my studio arrange- 
 ments were very simple, but, for the time, sufficient. Two or 
 three portfolios of different sizes held my studies and other 
 drawings, my cartoons stood in rolls in the corners of the 
 room, my letters in a table drawer, and so on. As things went 
 on, I found that I often lost time hunting for a particular 
 drawing, photograph, or cartoon, and presently found it 
 necessary to classify somewhat. I had a large shelf arranged, 
 with a few divisions for cartoons, more folios with labels, &c., 
 which was a great relief, and enabled me to devote some un- 
 disturbed time to my art, which had, till then, been frittered 
 away over the search, sometimes fruitless, for the thing I 
 wanted. Further development rendered this little attempted 
 organization insufficient, and ultimately I had to bring in 
 builders and carpenters to line my room with racks, shelves, 
 cupboards, &c., all supplied with sliding panels. My statues 
 (for I collec5t casts from the antique) stand on pedestals, all of 
 which have doors, and a multiplicity of shelves stocked with 
 portfolios. Finally my cartoons are all catalogued, and I can 
 find what I want without loss of time. As a result I can 
 pursue my art, not merely undisturbed by the loss of time and 
 temper otherwise imminent, but I can have my beautiful 
 statues about me, which would have been impossible but for 
 the organization which enabled me to utilize the space they 
 occupy. In every wa}', direcTtly and indirecftly. Organization 
 promoted Art. '^'^'^'^'^'^'^'^'^'^'^ 
 DOES not this point the moral of Mr. Bellamy's book ? Has 
 not Society outgrown the eld simple organization, which 
 sufficed for its limited numbers ?^^^'^^^^ 
 DO we not want a complete and radical re-organization, so 
 that things may be found in their right places ? Here is the 
 tradesman, on one side, obliged to spend thousands in adver- 
 tising, in order to get rid of his wares, while hundreds of toilers 
 
71 
 
 long for the wares, but cannot get them, because, in our sense- 
 less haphazard system of " every man for himself, and the Devil 
 take the hindmost," the money is being heaped up in hands 
 that cannot use it, and kept from the workers, who would keep 
 trade lively, if only they got their fair share of profit. '^ ^ 
 UNDER such conditions there is no time to think of beauty — 
 men must live, and for the large majority, there is just as 
 much chance of their being able to make life beautiful, in such 
 a fight for existence, as of my being able to paint a picfture 
 in the roadway. '^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 DO not suppose that I desire to give Art a place or a 
 prominence that does not belong to it. I regard Art as the 
 blossom, not the root of human life ; but if the blossom do not 
 appear, or is deformed, we know that the root is unsound. '^ 
 ART is, above all things, the offspring of Harmony. It is 
 one expression, by means of harmony in form and in colour, 
 in thought and conception, of that human harmony, that 
 Divinity in Humanity, which we call Love. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 IT is to promote this Divine principle that we are striving. 
 Man has an element in him of self, but he has an element in 
 him also of brotherhood. We believe, that the system under 
 which we live, by compelling men to give as little and get as 
 much as they can in all their transadtions, developes the lower 
 and stunts the higher element.'^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 ON all hands there is evidence that men are awakening to this 
 great fact, they are beginning to feel that self must suffer, if 
 brotherhood be neglected. A new faith and a new hope are 
 springing up, and uniting men in the noble effort to realise the 
 Kingdom of God on Earth, by substituting a system, based on 
 brotherhood, for one based on self. # # ^ ^ # ^ 
 A STRONG faith is needed for such a work; happily we find 
 no lack of it, and many who are still doubtful, only need that 
 their reason be convinced, to glow with the same faith, 
 and to be gladdened with the same Hope, that is 
 giving strength and joy to those who are now toiling in the 
 noblest cause that ever inspired human endeavour — the triumph 
 of Love over selfish greed. ^^^^^^^^ 
 THERE be these three. Faith, Hope, and Love, but the 
 greatest of these is.Love. ^^^^^^^^#1^ 
 
W. B. RICHMOND, A.R.A. 
 ON GESSO. APRIL 1890. 
 
^^ 
 
FROM THE SHORTHAND 
 REPORT OF DAVID WILLIAMS 
 
 I DARE say that you will think that by all the preparations 
 you see, that I am going to show you something very remark- 
 able. I am going to tell you of the properties of stucco, such 
 stucco as was put up by the ancients, and examples of which 
 exist in Greece and Rome. 5*>5^5«»S«»5^^5©»5^5^5^ 
 I WILL endeavour to show you in the first place something of 
 the manipulation of the different materials used. ^ 5fr 5<^ 5fr 
 THOSE who work in stucco, know perfectly well that there 
 are two difficulties to be calculated with, because it wants, 
 first a neatness of the over-surface, and, secondly, a finish of 
 the design. Both these difficulties have been perfectly over- 
 come, for workers in this material know well how to get in 
 their work all the finish of a material like marble, and yet still 
 to keep retained in it a sketchiness needed to render it artistic. 
 IF we look at the beautiful ceiling ornamentation so greatly in 
 vogue nowadays, we shall see how much of it is made up by the 
 hand of the workman, he casts his work in glue and plaster, or 
 mortar. This system of casting designs, of which I will try and 
 give you one or two illustrations, I shall be able to show you is 
 an utter abomination and false altogether ; they are worn out, 
 false, old, and good-for-nothing. The cast from the glue and 
 mortar is wrong from this reason, that the working of glue is 
 quite different from the working of plaster. The work in glue 
 has a finish which is very highly brought out, as such a 
 material admits of this finish, whilst work in plaster is not so 
 easy. It is necessary that the workman in plaster should bring 
 into his work a definite understanding of what he intends to 
 show, and make it altogether artistic and not a repetition of 
 slavish detail. 5«» ^^^^&^^^^^^§^§^^^ 
 AS to the ingredients used, they are simply these :■ — If any of 
 those present will take notes it will be well for them to do so, 
 for they may thus remember the materials. There was stucco 
 by the Greeks and Romans, which still exists at this moment 
 on the Parthenon and on the Doric Temples in Sicily. 
 This was put up on a coarse material which was generally, 
 as in the case of these temples, a base of coarse stone. 
 The surface when completed — or nearly so — was able to be 
 
76 
 
 smoothed down and so finely finished, being composed of 
 so beautiful a material, as to resemble very closely indeed, 
 marble itself. 5«»5fi»5>-5fr5fr5»>5©»5«»5©»Sfr5©»5©»S©»S<^S^5«»5fr 5>- 
 NOW we often hear of stucco houses. In Rome many public 
 baths and nearly all the places of resort were adorned — and 
 beautifully too^by fantastic and exquisite devices in stucco, 
 such as those in the Via LatincB, and many of them still retain 
 and are notable for the variety of their design and the freshness 
 of their work.§©.S^go»5^5c»5^5©»5o»5<^5©»5o»S«»S©»5«»5«»5«»5fr5©» 
 NOW the atmosphere of Rome is not much drier than that of 
 England, but the places (and this has a good deal to do with 
 their preservation), on which the stuccos were fixed, were 
 admirably built. This is the sine qua non, and must be well 
 looked to. Care must be taken that moisture does not come 
 in from behind, for if it does your work will generally, after a 
 time, come to grief.5©»^5«»S€»5©'5©.5^^5&>S»>5fr5c-5»'5®»5©»5^ 
 AS to the glue to use. There are different kinds of glue, some 
 prefer one kind, some another. On the whole, the glue which 
 I prefer, and invariably use and think best, is the ordinary thin 
 sheets of isinglass or fish glue. It is in thin long cakes, and 
 the harder it is the less difficult it sets or is liable to clot, and 
 in addition, it does not stain the work so much. 5^5^5©»5^5^ 
 OUR next ingredient is Plaster of Paris. It is very important 
 that this should be of the finest quality and not old, the best is 
 
 ground and white 
 fi H^^Pw"^"''^-^^.^'' ^K^-^.r^'',^Vv^ P^^^^ch Plaster of 
 
 find the best plan is to use but little glue. This, r, ■ <■ r f- r: 
 however, necessitates the finishing of small portions at a -r ariS. S^S^SfrS^ 
 time; that is especially applicable to work partially NOW SOme of 
 out of doors, where it is wise to use as little glue as ^„,, _^ rlmiKf 
 possible. I found that in old work I had done with ^ ' uuuui, 
 
 much glue, e.g., in my big statue of ' Physical Energy,' Want tO knOW 
 the work had rotted from the perishing of the glue. hoW I measure 
 One can, however, go on adding, and changing, and fU„ p-lng . vvell 
 re-modelling, but it is necessary in such cases to make u " ■ u ' 
 
 the surface extremely damp. Another little warning to this IS the Way 
 students would be that they make a key if possible, I mana^^e. I 
 Le let the surface on which they work be rough. ^ch thi addi- 
 
 These experiences of mine may be useful. . ^ , , 
 
 tion of the glue 
 to the plaster until I get it to the colour of burnt umber, and 
 so that the plaster is reduced to a kind of paste that you can 
 easily work for an hour or so, and experience no difficulty what • 
 ever with it. 5fr5fr5fr5fr5fr5<^5fr5e»5^5fr5^5fr5fr5^5«»5fr5^5©» 
 THE next ingredient is ordinary tow. This is used to bind 
 the two together, and prevent its cracking. The next is cotton- 
 wool, so you at once see that the things required are not very 
 complicated. ^^^^^^^^^§^§o-^^^5^^^^ 
 
77 
 
 NOW I propose to show some of you who are pracfticaliy 
 interested in this work, how this is done. I will work up 
 something and leave it here, and when it has become perfedtly 
 dry, you may throw it from one end of the room to the other 
 and it will not break or crack. Will a few of the students step 
 up on to the platform so that we may all work together? I will 
 give as a first example, and roughly, a life-size mask, very 
 light, as you will see when it is dry, and which may, if you 
 choose, be finished as much as you please. The mask must 
 of necessity be very rough, as I have not the time to-night to 
 finish it off thoroughly. ®®®®®®®®®®®®®9^ 
 I OUGHT to tell you that to get the adtual finish of marble, 
 you must use marble dust, which you sprinkle over the work at 
 
 the last, or just before the finishing touches are 
 
 Here some dozen added. Now, the first thing we begin with is the 
 
 cameVbouf'the ^°'^' which you want to use as a base. It will 
 
 table at which not look like anything at all at first. We now 
 
 Mr. Richmond mix the plaster and glue together, and now I 
 
 rodToZhTm'build up the mask in the tow. I dip it in the 
 
 plaster and glue, and with this I bind the base of 
 the mask together. In my own opinion, it is best to put in as 
 little plaster as possible. Stir it as little as you can, rather let 
 it mix itself, for the more plaster you add, the more you in- 
 crease its power of rapidly setting. I am going to put in some 
 glue now with the plaster, the quantity you see, enough to turn 
 it to a light brownish colour. It makes the work bind together, 
 
 and if you want the plaster to dry very quickly 
 
 Here the leaurer you must put in but little glue, but if you want 
 
 fhe lads^icTtlie ^^ to dry slowly, you must add a good deal of 
 
 maidng of the glue. I should now add some very finely powdered 
 
 materials. marble dust, but I have not got any. It makes a 
 
 very fine finish, and I really must mention that it 
 is entirely my own fault that we have not any here to-night, 
 for I am sorry to say, that I omitted to mention that I required 
 any. It must be pounded as fine as possible, but it makes the 
 plaster harder to work. If it be added with a little wax, you 
 get the most exquisite finish, and the most beautiful surface 
 that you can imagine, so much so, that you can hardly tell it 
 from marble itself. It is this marble dust that causes that 
 beautiful sparkling effeft. Knead your marble dust well, 
 before you put it in the plaster, and very slowly, so that it 
 mixes up by itself. One thing is to be remembered, be ex- 
 tremely clean. You take the tow, and pull it well out, and 
 make it into a thin sort of skin to cover your base, and pack 
 
Here one of the Jt up SO — as you see me do now. Be careful 
 °^^ ^ow^ °"* that you mix your plaster and tow well together. 
 
 The first thing is get the base as a kind of first 
 arrangement or foundation, and this should be temperately 
 hard. I may mention that the plaster to begin with should 
 be very liquid, so as not to set too quickly, and I use it 
 thin, because I do not want to get rid of all the tow. ^J<- -5|<- -jjc 
 QUESTION from a Student : " Is this a quick method of 
 working in plaster ? " Yes. Why, I once made a figure in 
 wood — a skeleton in facft — in which every joint articulated 
 perfedtly, and then I put on the tow, muscle upon muscle, and 
 then worked up the body, finally finishing with cotton wool, 
 and when it was completed it was so light that I could carry it 
 myself — that was after I had taken the inside out ; this took 
 me about two weeks to make. ^ ^ir -)[(- ^ ^K- ^- ^<r ^ ^- ^- 
 NOW with regard to our model ; if you want to raise any part 
 that you have got too low, you insert more tow underneath. 
 
 You get stru(5ture, as you see in this rough 
 As illustrated manner, and when you have got the face of 
 by the model, your work Covered in with tow and plaster, 
 
 you add more plaster to your glue, because 
 you require more consistency. When you get to this stage, 
 instead of taking the long tow which I have previously 
 been using, you use cut tow, and be careful to tuck it 
 well into its place, and thoroughly well in position. -Jjf ->Jr v" 
 I MAY say that I do think this system a most excellent one, 
 and I know of no better way of working than as I have shown 
 you here. Mr. Watts made his colossal statue of " Hugh 
 Lupus" with it, and with particularly happy effedt. Care must 
 be taken that your work does not get too limp. Here, I am 
 only able to show you the particular method of working : for, 
 from want of time, I am not able to satisfadtorily work it out. 
 I WILL pay more attention to one side of the face, so that 
 you may see the points I wish to bring out, and that you may 
 
 see also how freely you can work at it, in the 
 
 Here cheek, stage which we have now reached. Now by 
 
 on"one°side of pl^cing the light on one side, and towards the 
 
 the mask, rear of the mask, you are able to get the various 
 
 gradually took lights and shades beautifully. The plaster should 
 
 ^ ^P^' be allowed to^become smooth, and not too hard. 
 
 Suppose, however, that it does get hard before you can add 
 
 any fresh plaster, you must wet it well with a little glue, and 
 
 as soft a brush as you can get ; and then you may work over 
 
 that as freely as you please. You must always be careful 
 
79 
 
 W ^e^c^^!^' 
 
 This block, from a sketch made at 
 7he time has been tod'y '-',J°,"S 
 Guild <5- School by the Editor ot 
 the " Daily Graphic. 
 
8o 
 
 about one thing, and that is, you must wash out your basin 
 every time, if not, you will be put to a great deal of incon- 
 venience by getting nasty gritty lumps, which you will find 
 difficult to get rid of. @ ® @ @ @ @ @| @ @ @ i@ ^ 
 KEEP piling up with the tow as much as you can, until 
 you can get it so that you can smooth it at the end with 
 plaster in a mixed condition, and in the second application, 
 you should not use any glue at all. @@^^@®@@ 
 QUESTION from a Student : " Is this stucco applicable to 
 large work ?"®##@@#@#® @ @ ^ ^ (^ @ 
 OH dear me ! Yes ! It is very applicable to large ornaments, 
 because you can get a more permanent strucTture upon which 
 to work, and afterwards you can also get upon the main 
 strudlure ornamentation to an enormous extent. It is also 
 absolutely impossible to break it. I could make a frieze as long as 
 this room, i.e., about 30 feet, in a month or so, and it could be 
 put up and taken down if you choose. It is this very same material 
 that was used by Julio Romano in the Villa Madama, in Rome, 
 and upon the same principle that I am now working, only it was 
 
 set on a wall, instead of being flat on a bench ; so 
 
 Mr. Richmond you See that the kind of work is identically the same. 
 
 was now You may now notice that I begin to use cotton 
 
 mask in greater wool. The history of this stucco work in England 
 
 detail. briefly is this. I wanted some time ago a figure 
 
 which I had not got in wood. I searched about 
 and found an Italian — a Florentine — who was conversant with 
 the method of operation, and who carried out my ideas as I 
 wished. The plan he adopted was that which has been 
 handed down from the middle ages, and upon it many of the 
 figures used in the fetes were made, and this principle was 
 always employed. @@(p@@@@@@@@@@ 
 IN London civic pageants, figures are made in plaster ; that is 
 to say they are first modelled in claj', and afterwards cast. This 
 necessitates two operations, but in our system, only one is 
 used. This you will at once see is an enormous saving of time 
 and is quite as effecftive, if not more so, and besides the 
 London kind of figures are very heavy, whilst our principle 
 ensures their being hght, and the tendency to break or chip is 
 avoided. Now you will see that I take cotton wool, very 
 finely cut, and you may now finish the mask as highly as you 
 please. For working the materials the fingers are best, and I 
 believe in them better than all your tools. The work is much 
 finer, and more like hand-work. Now I must suppose that our 
 figure is considerably more advanced than it is. The next 
 
thing we must notice is, whether the plaster sets, because it 
 makes the plaster a good deal thicker. You should let it — this 
 we will suppose, has been worked upon for over two hours, 
 instead of about three-quarters — keep fairly soft until it is nearly 
 finished. Keep pressing in to get it firm on the face ! And thus 
 you get a good, hard, smooth surface when it becomes dry. ® @ 
 I NOW make up a mixture with less glue and a good deal 
 more plaster, and no tow whatever. It is to be well stirred up 
 until it becomes a kind of cheesy stuff. @®@@@ip@@g$ 
 QUESTION from a Student : " Will this cast shrink ? "gi @ @ 
 WELL, there is nothing at all to shrink ! We now put 
 this plaster which I have just mixed, on the work as you 
 now see me do ; work it well into the interstices of the 
 tow, the same as you do in water colour work, where 
 you apply colours and so make it form into a kind of 
 paste or glaze. In this manner you fill in all the unpleasant 
 paces as well as you can, for you still observe, the tow 
 is elastic, and will remain so for another four hours and 
 perhaps longer. It is better to put in cotton wool or tow 
 which is finely cut. This allows us to work upon the 
 cast for four hours or more. You may still keep adding to 
 it wherever it is wanted. ®@@@®^®@@@®@@@@ 
 YOU will find that better than cotton wool, or tow, for such 
 work is marble dust, if you happen to have it. Add some of 
 this to a little tow or wool, and it is that which you will see, 
 when it is dry, in the sparkle of the little particles of the 
 marble, and which gives it that extraordinary finish. @ @ ^ 
 NOW with a sharp tool or spatula cut off whatever is not 
 wanted, but do not do so until the work is " cheesy ; " otherwise 
 you may spoil it. At this period you should go over the surface 
 and get it uniform. Be always careful how you mix your 
 marble dust : only mix it when you want it, and when the 
 work is more or less finished. If the work is wanted rather 
 stiffer, put in more marble dust, and vice versa. The less you 
 use the more plastic the model is, and the easier and longer 
 you can work it about any way, without any risk of its 
 adhering when dry. This method of working will not permit 
 the work to shrink, indeed, as I before mentioned, there is 
 nothing at all to shrink, and it will amalgamate to any extent. 
 The advantage of it for large ornaments is, that you get a good 
 deal of toilsome work done very quickly. @@®@@@@@@ 
 ALTHOUGH I have not got this work completed— for I 
 am obliged to get it done somewhat rapidly — to a sort of 
 presentable stage, you can, if you have the idea, carry this 
 
82 
 
 on in the manner shown, ad infinitum, as the material dries. 
 WILL one of the students step here and do something to this 
 cast ? Now, please, will you just touch up the chin and the eye ? 
 Press it in pluckily, so ! Don't be afraid ! You all plainly see 
 
 how easily and well it can be manipulated, and 
 
 Mr. Richmond you can do any amount of shapes and designs 
 
 ''oPthe"btys oT at pleasure, and in the most beautiful and highly 
 
 the acftual model, finished Style. This principle may be applied 
 
 to the very smallest work. I see you already do 
 this here to some extent in your Gesso work, aided by means of 
 the paint brush, but that is not so good as the hand. You can 
 do far better work by the hand than with the steam engine, 
 and the less you see of steam engine work, the more variety of 
 design and the better the finish ; for as you are aware there is 
 finish ar:d finish. Machine work does not seem to be as 
 finished as work ought to be, and as it is possible to finish it 
 with the hand. £»^^^^<k^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 I WANTED to say something about picture frames of which, 
 I believe, you make some here. If you will take the time — it is 
 well worth it — and look at some Italian frieze of the fifteenth 
 century, in South Kensington, you will find the work is very 
 beautiful, but — and this is the point— it is not regular or 
 mechanical ever, but free and spontaneous. However, I must 
 leave this for another day. 5fr§^§fr5e»^S^^©'5^5o»5«»5o»5»»5<^ 
 I WILL tell you, to finish up with, a story by Professor Huxley. 
 I was once saying to him how the ancient faces of the Greek 
 statues were more intelligent — I mean those of the really Greek 
 — and how inane the faces of the Roman statues were. I noticed 
 that in the former the two sides of the face were not alike, one 
 eye was invariably higher than the other, the mouth was lower 
 on one side, the plane of the cheeks was different. " Well," 
 he said, " Do you know, the only perfectly balanced brain is 
 that of the idiot." (Laughter). You will see, then, that the 
 Romans did not do their work from the iform, but from 
 measurement, and this was the difference in their work, from 
 that of the Greeks, who used their own faculties, instead of 
 measuring. You will now understand the objection to those 
 wretched things called stencils, in which the pattern of one is 
 absolutely arbitrary and like the other. In ornaments, 
 therefore, as in all decorative work, do not mind if your 
 masters — and they, alas ! are not gifted usually with the 
 "artistic eye" — say that the "egg," or the ordinary "egg and 
 tongue" pattern does not seem to be in exactly the same 
 place as its next door neighbour — the egg beside it. You, 
 
83 
 
 by your irregularity, are showing art, while your master is 
 wanting you to become a machine. If you see in old Italian 
 friezes, places which have not exactly the same ornament, 
 what does it mean ? what does it show ? Why — it shows you 
 the hand of the workman ; and this I tell you as a saying 
 for you always to remember : NO MACHINE CAN BE SO 
 CLEVER AS TO BE IRREGULAR! 
 
 'J^»/^*J^*J^*A*J^^J 
 
 {Cheers.) 
 
T. STIRLING LEE ON 
 THE LANGVAGE OF 
 
 scvLPTVRE. mmmfmmm 
 
87 
 
 FROM THE SHORTHAND 
 REPORT OF DAVID 
 WILLIAMS, 
 
 WHEN Mr. Ashbee asked me to ledlure here I felt very 
 pleased, and that in speaking to you of sculpture, I should 
 speak to you of the Art of all Arts least known, and of the Art, 
 which, in its handing down, is as the history of nations. And 
 as there came into my mind the extreme difficulty of the 
 subject with which I had to deal, I thought of the beautiful 
 dream of Lucian, the Greek writer, who tells, in his wonderful 
 way, a good deal of the nature of the Art of Sculpture. His 
 father and grandfather were sculptors, and he tells how he had 
 just been in the workshop, and one day he dreamt that two 
 women came to him and took hold of each arm. ^^^^^^^^ 
 " THEY laid hold of my hands and pulled me, each towards 
 herself, so violently, that I had like to have been pulled asunder ; 
 and they cried out against one another— the one that she 
 was resolved to have me to herself, being indeed her own ; 
 and the other that it was vain for her to claim what belonged 
 to others ; and the one who first claimed me for her own was 
 a hardy worker, and had strength as a man's, and her hair 
 was dusty, and her hand full of horny places, and her dress 
 fastened high about her, and the folds of it loaded with white 
 marble-dust, so that she looked just as my uncle used to look 
 
when he was filing stones. But the other was pleasant in 
 features, and delicate in form, and orderly in her dress ; and 
 so in the end they left it to me to decide, after hearing what 
 they had to say, with which of them I would go ; and first the 
 hard featured and masculine one spoke : — y^'^^pN^S^S^^ 
 
 " DEAR child, I am the bit of image-sculpture, which 
 yesterday you began to learn ; and I am as one of your own 
 people, and of your house, for your grandfather (and she 
 named my mother's father) was a stonecutter ; and both your 
 uncles had good names through me ; and if you will keep 
 yourself well clear of the sillinesses and fluent follies that come 
 from this creature (and she pointed to the other woman) and 
 will follow me, and live with me, first of all, you shall be 
 brought up as a man should be, and have strong shoulders ; and 
 besides that, you shall be kept well quit of all restless desires, 
 and you shall never be obliged to go away into any foreign 
 places, leaving your own country and the people of your house ; 
 neither shall all men praise you for your talk." \^S^^r^^\^^ 
 
 SCULPTORS must begin from the very lowest. I am here 
 addressing those who are in the workshop, and who will 
 understand how in the workshop one has always to begin from 
 the very simplest beginnings. Think for a moment of the 
 great Pheidias as a product of the workshop, and you will see 
 what the workshop can lead to. When Pheidias had finished 
 his figure and the people first beheld it, they surely believed 
 that they had seen God. Then there was Polykleites, he too 
 came from the workshop, and was one of the greatest 
 mathematicians in sculpture. Then there was Myron (remember 
 these names ! ) he was the sculptor of the great Athletes, 
 he was very popular. Then there was Praxitiles, who beautified 
 nature — no one more exact to life, though he was pradlically 
 the decadence, his figures being rather too fat and run to seed. 
 So you see, that this sculpture — the silent art — begins from the 
 very simplest things, and begins from the workshop. If anyone 
 here is going to follow sculpture, I should certainly advise him 
 to begin with carving — let him learn carving first. All the last 
 four Gold Medalists of the Royal Academy, have been simply 
 boys in the carver's workshop, who went to the Academy, and 
 gained very trifling scholarships. I think that this year, the 
 best work of the Academy is done by one of these men, and I 
 should not be surprised if it is purchased by the nation.^; 
 
89 
 
 VERY few people know that sculpture is a language, or how it 
 became so, and this it is, of which I will tell you to-night. It 
 began in the carved hieroglyphic writings of Egypt, and I will 
 show you how. y#N#^.#-^^^S#-^-^S#S#S#S^ 
 
 THIS figure is a little scent bottle, probably 
 given, thousands of years ago, to some lady, 
 and we shall see some of the first work, with 
 lettering so formed by the horns.^^s^S^^ 
 
 THESE horns, in hieroglyphics, mean the 
 " opening." Many of you have heard the 
 expression " the horns of a dilemma." This 
 does not mean that a bull is running after 
 you, but that you are afraid of dropping 
 into a hole or opening, which is formed, 
 you see, by the curving up of the horns. ^^^ 
 
 THEN there is this hieroglyphic. It is 
 rather a curious sort of onion, and really 
 means, health-giving, or sweet. ^pS^S^^ 
 
 THEN, a hieroglyphic like this is the one 
 from which we derive our letter N. -^^ 
 
 V 
 
 THEN again, this is a sprout, which in 
 Egyptian, meant "spring," or "life-giving." 
 
 THEN that is a form, which, in Egyptian, 
 means " all.">^^^s^s^s^s^S#S#^ 
 
 AND again, from that hieroglyphic we have 
 "the hills and valleys," or "the country." 
 And so we read the following sentence. 
 " Happy new year to the whole country." 
 All this you see was only sculpture on a 
 little scent bottle. ^s#^^^^#s^s#^^- 
 
 
 C23 
 
 N O W this kind of character work went on and 
 on, and gradually began to take form in ani- 
 mals, birds, and creatures of all sorts, in its 
 language. Thus, the Egyptians gave to this 
 form the name of one of their gods. They 
 worshipped the Ibis, the bird that in the East 
 signified " colour," in this instance "white." 
 
go 
 
 This bird used to settle on the banks of the Nile, as it set, 
 and was, therefore, the signification of the settling down of 
 that river, on which depended the prosperity of Egypt. And 
 so there were many gods ; one of them was an awful looking 
 thing and it had but one eye. Then there was another, 
 "the cat," the origin this of our word "puss," from the Egyptian 
 " paste." The cat was sacred, because it destroyed vermin. 
 It took one thousand years to domesticate the cat, so I 
 think they must have had a very bad time of it during the 
 period of domestication. They also had a sacred bull, and this 
 signified the riches of the Egyptians and Hebrews, which 
 consisted in their herds and stock, and they were sacred 
 possessions. And so they got to human beings, and then they 
 began to exercise their imaginations. Here you see the growth 
 of the language of sculpture. ®®@®@®®@@® 
 WELL, the Greeks came next, and they took up the same idea. 
 They gave their very best prizes to their athletes. These men 
 were bound to train their bodies to great perfedtion, and of the 
 man who won the race, was made a statue. His, as a rule, was 
 the finest form, and so, out of the athlete, was created a deity ; 
 a deity, that came to a climax, in the human form — in man ! ® 
 ONE of the greatest of Greek statues was the statue of Zeus, 
 by Pheidias. It was forty-two feet high, and made in ivory and 
 gold. The god had in one hand a sceptre, to denote his kingly 
 power, and by him was the eagle, the royal bird. His cloak 
 was of pure gold and covered with enamels. In the other hand 
 he held a figure of victory, this alone was six feet high. Round 
 the throne itself were scenes of victory. The legs of the throne 
 were of pure ivory. The magnificence of this figure it is 
 impossible to imagine. How lovely it must have looked, how 
 beautiful it must have been. The people who saw it said they 
 had seen God Himself. ®®®®@®®®®®®® 
 I WILL give you an instance of how high the Greeks thought 
 sculpture. The name of this marble, of which I have brought 
 a piece to-night, is " Lychinitis," it means " light," and it was 
 in this that the gods revealed themselves. The material was 
 sacred to the deities. It was as sacred to them as our Bible is 
 to us. It is told how a Greek was one day passing by a quarry, 
 and he struck the stone by accident, when at once one of those 
 statues was formed. ®®®®®®®®®®®®® 
 PASSING from the Greek period, I will take you to the 
 middle ages. Strange to say, one might hardly believe it in 
 
91 
 
 this age, but it is our own England, one might almost say, that 
 made the greatness of the mediaeval Art of sculpture. There is 
 a garden of Art in Wells Cathedral, and that was, most of it, 
 built before Giotto built his famous Campanile in Florence. 
 You might almost suppose that he had been to Wells Cathedral. 
 BY the way, do you all know the story of Giotto ? If not, I 
 will tell you. He was a shepherd boy, and he was sitting on 
 the hill-side one day, drawing his animals and the scenes around 
 him, when who should come by, but a great painter, who took 
 him home, and trained him in the study of art. ^ ® ^ @ 'S 
 NOW, sculpture in England went on all very well, 
 growing in beauty and dignity in our Cathedrals ; telling, 
 as the Egyptian and the Greek had done before it, its 
 language; — the religious language of the middle ages, 
 and reaching its crowning glory in Canterbury ; till 
 there came Henry VHI. — a man who changed his mind 
 very often — and with him came the Protestant reformation, 
 and the iconoclasm of the sixteenth century. He sacked the 
 shrine of Becket, dissolved the monasteries, and the next 
 reign destroyed all the sculpture. We have never had a school 
 of sculpture since. What we now want to have put up in our 
 public places or collections, we have to go to foreigners to get 
 done. Men such as Schemacher and Roubaillac. There is, 
 now again, a small school of sculpture here in England — a very 
 small one — it is not twenty years old, while that of our neigh- 
 bours, the French, is about a hundred. © ® # © ® ® @ 
 SO much for the history of sculpture, and the language it has 
 spoken to us. I will now show you some illustrations of what 
 sculpture is in practical working. ®?^©^^®'?^® 
 I HAVE put up a piece of clay here to show to all of you 
 what sculpture begins in. Aly subjedt is one that we all know 
 
 pretty well, — the first man — Adam ! It is rather a 
 Here the lecturer good Subject for sculptors, not only because of his 
 revolving '"table costume, but because Adam himself, means "red 
 on which stood earth," that is to say, in the Hebraic, " living 
 his model of an earth," a very appropriate appellation for the sub- 
 tnc^y.s.^mL'il ject— don't you think? Colours in all the Hebraic 
 high, see p. 95! characters mean " alive," so you see we get " living 
 
 earth." Adam, being formed from the " earth " 
 itself, and made " alive." @@®®@@®@®®® 
 WHEN Moses made Adam looking unto the light, made him a 
 living soul, he gazed beyond the sun itself, to the power that was 
 
92 
 
 the author of its existence, and for this reason he became a 
 Hving soul, looking to the Infinite. If any of you here think 
 of getting up a subject, take, first, a piece of paper, and try to 
 express your ideas on it, think well over your subjecS, think of 
 what it really means. It is not merely that you shall take a 
 man, say, and put a harp or what not in his hand. Your 
 subject must mean something beyond, something deeper, and 
 so bear always in mind this model of Adam : — he looked beyond 
 the sun, and became a living soul. And so, follow me further 
 still, mark well and note carefully all the different poses and 
 aspects. See how solemnly they fit the character, think how 
 this — the living earth of the first man — ought, as a subject, to 
 be perfectly solemn and still. You notice that I have tried, in 
 this model of mine, to make him solemn and still, and looking 
 beyond all things visih\e.^^^§^§^§^§^§^^^§^§^^^ 
 NOW, as to working, the first thing is to get the model into 
 good line. In sculpture, as in music, it has to [flow ! So too 
 in the human figure — from the top of the head 
 Here the right down to the foot, it has to flow ! If, 
 
 hiffingerron therefore, you are working a figure and you 
 the model come to a stop, and your lines do not flow, 
 
 indicated the then you at once know there is something wrong. 
 
 in tlie'figurr Your lines must flow as you see here, — and 
 here, — and here, — until they come down to the 
 little toe, here. Then every line in the figure belongs to some 
 other line : for instance, in this model it comes so, — and so, — and 
 so. Then again, if you have a line here, it must find its 
 way there. If you have that muscle straight and you are 
 learning to model it in a piece of clay, you will find it starts 
 from there and is drawn on carefully until it is inserted 
 here, and so gradually you learn all the forms in man. This 
 line gradually loses itself in the bone there. That form 
 starts from there, and is inserted here. This form is brought 
 over here, and carried down like that, so that every form 
 has its balancing form. Look again here, this line starts 
 from this point and goes down there. I am speaking now 
 more to the boys who are learning modelling. It is for them 
 to bear this balancing of forms well in mind, when they model 
 a bust or any obje(5t in clay. I think now you see the adlual 
 way it is done, don't you ? They are all balancing forms 
 these, each form has its brother form to correspond with it. 
 Form that does not flow, has, as I said before, something 
 
93 
 
 wrong in it or in its balancing form. So jou see that that, 
 and that, and that, and that, balance all the way down ; the 
 back carries that line on, and so on, and so on. Thus much 
 then for balancing lines and forms. i<^'-^'-^'-^'<^'-^!>^l-^^f'i)' 
 I WANT now to tell you something about the training of a 
 sculptor, which you should take to heart. There is nothing, 
 I believe, except religion, which has demanded such sacrifices 
 from man as sculpture : there must be some tremendous 
 fascination about it ; and it becomes the man's greatest 
 pleasure. If it were not so, I do not think that for the last 
 ten years we should have had a sculptor in this country. 
 I can assure you that if ever you want to gain real pleasure, 
 learn to become a sculptor. You know, those of you who 
 have an ear for music, of the great pleasure music gives ; well, 
 you can have the same pleasure in form, if you have an eye 
 for form. Therefore train yourselves to understand it. If 
 ever you have spare time, go to the British Museum. It is 
 open free, and as often as you go, you can learn to work out 
 some of the greatest thoughts ever worked out by man. The 
 birth of Athene for instance, who was the goddess of wisdom. 
 I was talking to a man, the other day, about the Greek 
 mythology. He said he did not care for it, said there was 
 only one instance (to his knowledge) in which there was any 
 wisdom in it, and that was, when Zeus had a bad headache, 
 his head was cut open, and with that Athene was born. He 
 didn't think there was much in that, nor were the other 
 stories much better. But what did it mean ? Why, it meant 
 that wisdom was born from the brain of Zeus himself; and, 
 what is more, born at the break of day ! You will find the 
 sun is rising out of the vast ocean : the rays are just coming 
 out of the waves of the sea. The night is clearing away, and 
 the red sun-rays are dispersing the darkness, and soon it will 
 be day again, the time for work and activity, for every 
 Athenian knew then that it was the time to go to work and 
 learn wisdom. 5^^5«^5<^5<^5<^5^5fr5<^5^5»»5<^5^^5fr5^5^5fr 
 
94 
 
 AFTER THE LECTURE THERE WAS A DISCUSSION 
 WITH THE STUDENTS, & MR. LEE SHOWED SOME 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF SEVERAL WORKS OF GREEK 
 ART, S- OF THE EARLY WORK IN WELLS CATHE- 
 DRAL, ALSO AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE ZEUS. 
 '^ i^$^ J^^ 9£^°i$ ^^"A S^^^ ^^^ SS^yf »£^^i^ ^W^ S£ 
 QUESTION from a Student : "Will you tell us more about 
 the sculptured scent bottle and its figures and symbols ? "'^^^ 
 REPLY : " The scent bottle is this shape. I think ladies 
 have scent bottles like them now. It is of course the 
 
 hieroglyphic which is the figurative or symbolic 
 
 Here the leflurer sculpture : that is to say, sculpture written in 
 
 sketched the figures or Symbols. For example : the ' crown '— 
 
 ^krge^on th^ ^"^ there are many kinds of crowns— round 
 
 black board, the head of Zeus was an ' olive crown.' The 
 
 highest things the Greeks knew of were the olive 
 and the vine. The gods were anointed with olive oil. The 
 oil was the essential part of the plant, and the plant was 
 the essential one to the ancients. Indeed, I believe that in 
 hot climates it would be impossible to live without oil. Oil 
 is the essence of life ; it was oil which they believed ' made 
 man with a cheerful countenance.' The town of Athens — 
 named after Athene — had the olive as its symbol, and the 
 gods were therefore anointed with the highest thing the earth 
 produced— that was the olive. ##^#^^i^#^#^#^^^^ 
 I WANT you to take note too of the symbolic colours. The 
 crown round Zeus was enamelled ' green '—green was the 
 symbol of the earth. Then ' blue ' was the symbol of heaven : 
 it was ordered to be worn by the Hebraic priests, and was 
 carried on the fringe of their garments, that it might remind 
 them always that they were led through the wilderness by 
 the power of God. Then, as I said before, 'red' was the 
 symbol of life. Gold was the highest thing you could have, 
 and the most precious of metals. We know how gold is 
 mentioned in the Revelations of St. John. Every jewel had 
 
 its symbolic meaning, and so on. 
 
 ^ LOOK ! I will show you 
 
 something we have, with 
 a very pretty symbol on 
 it. Our own shilling — 
 not our new one, that is 
 very bad, and brands our 
 country as being in a very 
 
95 
 
 bad period of Art. (Laughter). If you take this shilling you 
 will find that there is written on it a most beautiful piece of 
 symbolism, and whoever designed it, knew something of the 
 language of sculpture. -^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^pr^^^^^l^ 
 YOU will find the olive and the oak wreath, and at the top 
 of them the crown. The two trees are tied together with 
 a bow. This symbolizes clearly, first, that the money is to 
 be spent ; then, that if it is properly spent, it will uphold 
 the Crown, and so the whole nation will be bound up in love 
 and unity." ( Cheers). l^-^r^^^-^^^^l^^^l^T^^^-i^^^-i^ 
 
 QUESTION from a Student : " I think that Mr. Lee might 
 tell us how the clay work is carried out in plaster, or at least, 
 the principle of working it. It will be of interest, especially 
 to those of us who are engaged in the upholstery or similar 
 trades, such as cabinet making. We should be able to get 
 still more valuable instruction from the lecfture if we are told 
 how the strudtural working is carried out inside. ^^^^^^^^t^^p' 
 AND then, Sir, you spoke of the British Museum. I think. 
 Sir, that we should have museums more get-at-able. What is 
 the good of telling us to go if we can't ! We should have 
 museums open on Sundays ! {cheers) so that the works of the 
 great men, and the beautiful things of which you tell us, might 
 be more readily seen. It is quite certain that good English 
 work has always been able to hold its own, if it only gets its 
 chance ; just as ' shoddy ' now, our main staple industry, has 
 the best chance of all." {Sentence completed amidst loud laughter.) 
 REPLY : " There is some internal support in the model, or it 
 would not stand up five minutes. There is a 
 HERE the framework of iron in the arm. Look ! there, for 
 off^thf cl2y from example, is a wire ; so there, again, with the leg,— 
 the framework, and here, with the head. You see it takes longer 
 to create an Adam than to destroy him! ^^^^i^^ 
 IN terra cotta work it has to be built up with no 
 support at all. In marble, a figure like this would 
 be first cast in plaster. It is done in plaster of 
 Paris, mixed with water to a consistency of thick cream. You 
 would probably put little pieces of zinc with it, then you take 
 your plaster, and when it is moist you take a little clay. Water 
 is sometimes used, mixed with a little red colour, to enable 
 you to distinguish the proper depth of the work.^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 leaving it as 
 
 shown in the 
 
 illustration on 
 
 page 96. 
 
96 
 
 •Adam- 
 
 •Adam.- 
 
 •DESTROYED 
 
97 
 
 YOU take your plaster that is coloured and brush it over the 
 work with some soft brush, and when you are taking your cast, 
 if you get down to this coloured layer you know you are right 
 on the model itself. It keeps the cast from adhering too closely 
 to the model, and it will leave it easily. When it is first done, 
 you put on the plaster to the model, until you get it to a certain 
 thickness. You insert your little pieces of zinc in this way, and 
 your two parts of the model will come apart. You now clean 
 it well, and afterwards, when it is thoroughly clean, you take a 
 little soft soap, being very careful to get it clean. You must be 
 particular that you get it perfectly clean. After the plaster hsis 
 set, you then take the different parts, and put them together, 
 thus joining up your work. You can then get your cast of the 
 plaster model. *^^^*^^#^#**^# 
 
 II 
 
 QUESTION from a Student: "Do you think it right, in 
 copying from a life model, to copy all the peculiarities of that 
 model i ^^-ipTv-wwwwwwwwwww 
 REPLY : " In the life school, most decidedly, yes ! Because 
 you are training your eye to see correctly. In the life school, by 
 no means alter anything, for if you do, you are only calling 
 upon yourself to perform what really you do not see. In the 
 hfe school, you are not to think of the causes of things, you 
 are only to think of the results and effects of them, and you 
 must show how you see the model before you — that is the effect 
 of the model. You, as students, must show what you see in the 
 effect of it. In a person's head, for instance, you do not see all 
 the detail of that head, you only see the effects they produce. 
 If you put in other things that you do not actually see from 
 your point of vision, you get in a number of slavish details. 
 You should so work, that you show what you really see. For a 
 student, therefore, I say, let him train his eye, to see in such a 
 way as you see this statue now— skeleton though it be." ^ -^ 
 
 ^ 
 
98 
 
 AFTER THE VOTE OF THANKS WAS PROPOSED, 
 MR. LEE REPLIED, AND CLOSED. *#*##* 
 
 W '«• W W ^ W 'TV' W "Tr 'A* W W 'A* W W ■TV' •7^ '/K" 
 
 I CAN assure you that it has given me very much pleasure to 
 be here, and now that I know it has given you pleasure too, I 
 am amply repaid. I trust that some of you may take up this 
 special study, and find out, as I have found out, what great 
 delight there is in it. It has its sufferings too, for no great joy 
 is without this. I knew once, how, for a figure in clay, a poor 
 French boy got a pension from his town, to take him to Paris, 
 to study. He wanted hard to get on, but he had no money to 
 hire a model. As he came from the vine growing districts, his 
 friends one day sent him, as a present, a cask of wine. He 
 pinched to get the money for the model, but could not. At 
 last, he asked a model to come to his room, and share his wine 
 with him — the model remained as long as the wine lasted. This 
 boy ultimately got his work into the Salon, and obtained the 
 gold medal — he is now a great man. I should like to tell you 
 more of the way in which the French treat their artists, — they 
 treat them better than we do oi^rs— but this I will tell you, and 
 leave with you as a last word to-night, — most of their finest 
 work has been done at starvation point .'^#^#^^^ 
 
 {Cheers.) 
 
THE EGYPTIAN HEAD AND TAIL 
 
 PIECES OF THIS LECTURE 
 
 WERE KINDLY SENT 
 
 IN ILLUSTRATION 
 
 BY MRS. G. F. 
 
 WATTS. 
 
^^ 
 
E. PRIOLEAV WARREN, 
 A.R.I.B.A., ON PARLOVR 
 ARCHITECTVRE. f If if if SI 
 
^*^ 
 
103 
 
 IN PART FROM THE MANUSCRIPT, 
 AND FROM THE SHORTHAND 
 REPORT OF DAVID WILLIAMS. 
 
 TO judge of the architeftural development of a nation by 
 considering only its large and important buildings, its churches, 
 palaces, and town halls, its theatres, and colleges ; would be 
 like basing one's opinion of the social charafteristics of that 
 nation solely upon intercourse with its bishops, its judges, its 
 mayors, and other public functionaries : or assessing the 
 national dietary from a study of public banquets. The 
 domestic life of a people is the truest indication of popular 
 charadter, and expresses itself in no way more vividly than 
 in its dwellings, the average homes of average citizens. And 
 " home," I think I may safely say, implies the inside 
 of a house; an interior of some kind, four walls and a 
 roof. One builds a house to live inside, not outside of it. The 
 consideration, therefore, of domestic interiors is of importance 
 to us all, and I propose to deal this evening entirely with the 
 internal architeiSture of ordinary houses. @^^^^@@@^ 
 THERE is one far-reaching condition of modern life in town or 
 country which so largely affefts domestic building, and still 
 more largely domestic decoration, that one cannot afford to 
 neglecft it. It is the leasehold condition. The few own 
 houses, the many rent them. We are for the most part hermit 
 crabs, who live in other peoples' shells, with the unfortunate 
 difference that we have to pay rent for our shells, whereas the 
 hermit crab, I believe, merely looks around for an empty shell, 
 walks in, and, if he hkes it, stays there. Those of us who have 
 a pretty comfortable home to-day are very apt to hope for a 
 better next year, or the year after next. We don't feel sure of 
 staying where we are, and, therefore, are naturally not inclined 
 to spend much time, labour, or money upon our homes. So we 
 do a little in a cheap kind of way, very often cheap and nasty 
 too, to bring our temporary shells into some accordance with 
 our views as to what a shell should be. Thus arises a kind of 
 
104 
 
 art we may call leasehold art. We may think it a pity — I for 
 one do so — that there should be this kind of art, but we have 
 to look fadts in the face, and I am afraid this is an indubitable 
 facft. A leaseholder when he wishes, or, shall we say, his wife 
 wishes, for a little alteration and decoration in his home, is 
 content if he can achieve what will " last his time," seven years 
 perhaps, or three, or less. " After me, the deluge," said the 
 French King, and so says the leasehold hermit crab ; and after 
 him the deluge often comes and spoils the wall-papers and 
 the floors, for tiles and slates, gutters and pipes have got to 
 have a leasehold sort of charadter too, and the leasehold 
 plumber is a merry wag. ^###^#^^^##^^ 
 I SPEAK of leasehold art in contra-distindtion to freehold art ; 
 the art that means to last ; the art employed by a man who 
 makes a home for himself first, then his son, his grandson, 
 great and great great grandsons ; the art that each successor 
 successively employs to alter, add to, and embellish the old 
 home ; the art that has made the delightful old homes that are 
 the pride and glory of a country. The big buildings, the 
 homes of rich men, the churches, town halls, and colleges 
 belong, of course to the freehold type. They are well built for 
 the most part, at any rate meant to last. Some houses, of 
 course, of the more expensive leasehold type, built to be let to 
 rich hermit crabs, partake a little more than usual of the free- 
 hold character, but they are a very different sort of thing to 
 the house a man builds for himself. >X= 'X= 'X== ^ # -X- 'X= ^ # 
 THE speculative builder, commonly called, I know not why, by 
 the familiar diminutive of " Jerry," builds houses to sell or let, 
 but not to live in, though people do try to live in them, try 
 hard sometimes. I've tried before now, and didn't enjoy it. 
 Well, those of us, and I daresay I shall be right in including my 
 audience to a man, who have a leaning towards the freehold 
 kind of art, the art that is meant to last its honest time, and 
 reach a mellow old age, are almost always engaged more or 
 less in trying to circumvent our friend Jeremiah. Where we 
 have for ourselves or others to deal with his handiwork we try 
 and give it a sort of freehold look; it is not very satisfactory, 
 but sometimes we really do wonders, s^: # # ^» # # ^' 'X= ^ 
 WELL, it is with a view to bringing before you some methods 
 and principles which seem to me to be useful in dealing with 
 homes, both of the freehold and leasehold type, that I have the 
 pleasure of addressing you to-night. 'X' =^ ^ # # ^ # # ^ 
 
105 
 
 I HAVE called my paper " Parlour Architecture," because for 
 some reason papers like this are expected to have a name ; 
 and as I am going to deal with the architecture of parlours, 
 that name seemed to fit. For decoration is architecture : if 
 you have windows, a chimney-piece, a door and a cornice, you 
 have some architecture, good, bad, or indifferent ; and most 
 parlours have these — windows, chimney-piece, door and cornice. 
 It is by their position, workmanship and design, that a good or 
 bad, a pretty or an ugly parlour is made. Of course the propor- 
 tion of the work has a deal to do with it, if a room is too high 
 or too low, too long for its width, too wide for its length, or 
 too short for its height, no beauty of detail, or cunningness, 
 in placing doors and windows, will make it right, though they 
 may make it nearly right. Still given a room of decent propor- 
 tions, it may be hideous, because its details or its colours are bad. 
 LET us begin at the top and deal with the cornice and ceiling, 
 for there are few things more important in the effedt of a room, 
 though few things more generally negledted. ^ ^ # ^ # # ^ 
 A CORNICE is the termination of the wall and is meant to give 
 a sense of support to the ceiling and to cover the hard angle 
 between wall and ceiling. It generally looks best if arranged 
 
 so that its height and proje(ftion are about equal, 
 
 The ledurer that is if the outer edges of its mouldings are in a 
 
 here sketched a jjjjg forming an angle of about 45 degrees with 
 
 ^"rfthe'^black^^the wall or ceiling. You will find this to be true 
 
 board. in a general way, of old seventeenth or eighteenth 
 
 century cornices, whether of wood or plaster. 
 MODERN cornices, except those designed by people who 
 have carefully studied old ones, are usually ugly and ineffeftive ; 
 they give no sense of support to the ceiling and often one 
 cannot tell whether they are intended to be the top of the wall 
 or the beginning of the ceiling. They are generally treated 
 as the latter and whitened in with the ceiling, thereby 
 shortening the walls in appearance. They are often, if put up 
 within the last 50 or 60 years, in a style intended to be 
 " Gothic," with deep hollows and waved mouldings ; but they 
 are not Gothic in effecft or position, and are futile and ugly. 
 Cornices are often enriched and extended with cheap and very 
 nasty repeated imitations of lattice-work, basket-work, flowers 
 and fruit, ineffedlual, pretentious and out of all characfter with 
 the rooms they are intended to adorn, and moreover, dust- 
 traps of the most determined order. ^^^^^^^^:^ 
 
io6 
 
 THIS is a modern " Gothic " cornice, I daresay you know the 
 kind of thing. .^ ^^ <^ .^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ -^ 
 
 MOCLCI*^ filT<Jw.t CJWM.L 
 
 IicttS. 
 
 
 THESE, on the other hand, are about the corredl angle between 
 wall and ceiling, the idea being, I take it, to form a support 
 for the ceiling, between the hollow and the ceiling itself. 
 Cornices of a better type are those of the seventeenth-century. 
 You will see from the character of this one that it becomes, 
 in a greater sense, a support. ■^^^ ^^^ .,^^ ^^^ ,^^v ,^^ ^^^v 
 
 
 THE sketch of the modern " Gothic " cornice, you will 'see, 
 does not give us the same idea of support. ^^^ >,^>> "<^^ '\^^ 
 THE cornice must of course, in depth and projedtion, bear 
 a certain relation to the height of the walls. I cannot give the 
 
107 
 
 rule — I don't believe in exact rules for proportion, it must be a 
 matter of feeling, it must look right; but from actual 
 experience, I only say that I find, as a general thing, that a 
 room, eight feet high, requires a cornice of at least four inches 
 deep and is better with rather more. A room of ten feet seems 
 to me to want about six inches, and of twehe to thirteen feet 
 about seven-and-a-half to eight inches. But of course, all this 
 depends upon the mouldings of the cornice and the light of 
 the room. As to ceilings, one may elaborate a ceiling to 
 almost any extent, or one may leave it perfectly plain and it 
 vfill yet look well. Personally, I like, when funds allow it, 
 to divide the ceiling with rather flat moulded ribs into panels 
 and patterns all over, and I don't see why ceilings should 
 be always white, as modern tceilings, except in mansions, 
 generally are. Why shouldn't rhe lid of the box be coloured 
 as well as the walls and floo ? But whatever else is done 
 or left undone to a ceiling, a " centre rose," as those ready-made 
 abominations of plasterers are called, should be studiously 
 avoided, and, when possible, if already existing, removed. 
 IF 3'ou have to have a gas pipe or lamp-hook depending from 
 the ceiling, a plain-turned wooden rose or a brass one will look 
 a deal better than the "centre ornament." >^^ ^^>- .^^^ ^^^ 
 IT is a vet}- prevalent plan, now-a-days, to fix a wooden 
 moulding round the walls, a foot or two below the cornice ; 
 and this is called a " fi-ieze rail," as the space it incloses forms 
 a frieze. If this rail is of proper dimensions and nicely 
 moulded, and the proportion of the room well considered, in 
 settling its height from the floor, it has an excellent effecft, 
 especiall}' so if a raised plaster frieze of good design can be 
 placed above it. I need hardly tell you that there are the 
 modern substitutes — moulded canvas and the like, some of 
 which are well designed and graceful, and not to be despised 
 but the real thing is more satisfactory'. .^^ ^^^ ^^>- -^^ ,,^v 
 IT is a common plan also to fix another wooden rail round 
 the walls, called a " chair rail "• — to form a dado, at a height of 
 some three or more feet above the floor, and a very pretty 
 plan it is, if its height is rightly proportioned, the mouldings 
 good, and the rail and the space beneath, together with the 
 skirting, painted all one colour, and that a good colour .y^^ ^^^ 
 IFaroom is very high it can afford to have a dado and a frieze ; 
 but the ordinary lowish room should have one or the other 
 only ; and if it is not possible to have an enriched frieze, I 
 
io8 
 
 should say have a dado. The skirting board is generally much 
 overdone — too high, too much moulded, and the mouldings 
 not good — of the cheap steam-joinery kind. SS BS BS 88 BS 
 I HAVE seen even, in good, expensively-fitted rooms, a simple 
 square wrot-board, about five inches by half an inch look 
 extremely well. I have my own theory of the origin and 
 growth of the cornice, frieze and dado in the form in which one 
 generally finds them. eS838a®BSBSBSBS8383 
 IT was the custom in Roman architecture, from which much 
 modern architedture is indirectly derived, to divide a wall 
 space with pilasters projedting slightly from the wall — one often 
 sees this done still — these pilasters had pedestals with cap 
 and base moulds, and also capitals and neck-moulds, and they 
 very usually supported an " entablature," consisting of 
 architrave or " frieze rail," frieze and cornice, but sometimes 
 ran up to the roof or ceiling against which the capital 
 terminated. Then there was a practice that arose of connecting 
 pilasters or groups of them by extending the mouldings of 
 pedestal and base, of cap and cornice. And this was imitated 
 in more modern times, till in simple work the pilasters were 
 omitted, and the pedestal mouldings in dado, and cornice, 
 and frieze mouldings were retained. SS BS BS 88 ES 83 83 
 THEN come windows, they are important in every way, for light 
 and ventilation first, and as architecJtural features next ; and 
 there is no feature in which good and bad proportion tells more 
 strikingly than in a window and the distribution of its parts ; 
 and in my opinion, few things can well be uglier than the 
 average modern window with its stumpy equal proportions and 
 sash, where meeting bars equally divide its upper and lower 
 parts. Compare it with the pretty casements of old country 
 cottages, with their diamond panes, or even with the sash 
 windows of the last century, with their long proportion, 
 many panes and prettily moulded sash bars.8S BS 83 88 88 
 THE modern ideal in windows seems to be the biggest 
 possible panes of glass ; the nearer the approach to no window 
 at all the greater the success. Of course the number and size 
 of panes should be in proportion to the size of the windows ; 
 but in my opinion the large panes of plate or sheet glass of 
 modern windows are excessively ugly and uncomfortable, they 
 make one feel out of doors ; their only excuse is "a beautiful 
 view," and even then the view I think looks none the worse 
 for being cut up into a number of little pictures. That there is 
 
log 
 
 a charm about lead lights, is shown by the way in which the 
 jerry builder puts them into the hall glass doors, and upper 
 sashes of suburban villas. 8S8388BS8S8389B98S 
 WE are so much used to sash windows in England, that one 
 gets to look upon a sash as the natural form of windows ; 
 yet is it so ? Is it as convenient as a casement ? I doubt 
 it. A casement, either of wood or of metal, in a metal frame, 
 when well fitted, is as air-tight as, nay, more air-tight than, a 
 sash ; it swings easily on its hinges like a door ; you have not to 
 hoist and pull as you have with a sash ; its gear is less compli- 
 cated ; it has no cords and weights to get out of order ; it cannot 
 come down like a guillotine and decapitate you when the cord 
 gives ; and last, but not least, it is far prettier. A window 
 divided by an upright mullion and cross transom, can have 
 hinged casements below and centre hung casements on 
 " hoppers" above, thereby securing abundant and easy ventila- 
 tion. The casement can open outwards or inwards. If you 
 want to have window boxes for flowers the casement should 
 open inwards, otherwise I think they do better opening 
 outwards. England and Holland are the only European 
 countries where the sash window is the rule, everywhere else in 
 Europe the casement is the almost invariable form of window. 
 
 j^j^::}Liir''^^ 
 
 QiO Window 
 (IPSWiCrt) 
 
 - MODERN 
 
 Window- 
 
no 
 
 FROM windows we pass to doors, they are important also, and 
 care should be taken to divide up the panels prettily. The usual 
 four-panel door with its wide lock style is very ugly. Six, eight, 
 or ten panels, like those of old doors, are far prettier. If you 
 have panel mouldings have good ones, but plain square framing, 
 with a good architrave mould round it, looks very well. Jft Jft 
 THEN as to the walls and decorations generally. As a rule the 
 modern parlour does not get beyond wall paper or plain 
 distemper or paint. I do not for a moment mean to imply that 
 these methods only are not to be made very effective, but there 
 are others. In old times the walls were generally covered with 
 panelled wainscoting, or with hangings of damask or tapestry. 
 Sometimes they were plastered and painted in patterns. Few 
 things are more delightful than the wainscoting running up from 
 floor to cornice, with pretty mouldings to the panels, and the 
 panels nicely proportioned, with a chair rail at its proper height, 
 and a low skirting, the whole painted in one quiet soft colour. 
 Hangings of damask or tapestry are delightful too, but expensive, 
 and moreover dusty. A wainscot, 5 or 6 feet high, with a painted 
 frieze above, may be made very effective ; or a cheap method of 
 getting the pannelled effect — a method I have employed on new 
 and old walls — is to fix on wooden mouldings, by screwing them 
 up to plugs in the plaster, stopping the plaster face and rubbing 
 it smooth, and then painting the whole ; this has the advantage 
 over framed wooden panelling that it does not crack and warp 
 and shrink with heat as the latter does, but it does not look 
 quite as well because the whole wall is flat ; whereas in the case 
 of wooden panelling the panel may be recessed a little, or may 
 stand out a little in front of the styles. J^ ^ ^ ^ Jft Jft 
 WALL papers I look upon as a makeshift at best, though 
 often a pretty enough makeshift. They arose, of course, from an 
 imitation of hangings of stuff or tapestry, and were at first at the 
 end of last or beginning of this century pasted on to canvas or 
 hung loose in direct imitation of tapestry hangings ; then they 
 got to be strained on frames and finally pasted on the wall itself ; 
 but still for a long time retained in design the character of the 
 stuffs they imitated. Flock papers are an attempt to imitate 
 the appearance of velvet or plush hangings. Now, of course, 
 wall papers are wall papers, and nothing else, except when they 
 attempt to imitate tile mosaics, or grained wood or mottled 
 marble — vulgar sillinesses which deceive no one ; still I think 
 that the most successful wall papers are those which give the 
 same kind of effect as old hangings, the designs of which are in 
 
Ill 
 
 vertical "repeats" and of a climbing character, growing up- 
 wards, not sprawling along all over the walls, and of good big 
 dignified designs ; to me the infinite repetitions of small designs 
 are very tiresome. I like to see a design that is not ashamed 
 of itself, and stands up boldly like a full grown tree. I even 
 like big designs in small rooms. I don't think they dwarf the 
 room, on the contrary, I think the little pattern gives a stamp 
 of pettiness at once. It is a great thing to aim at breadth of 
 effect, and soft colour ; a wall paper of two or at most three 
 soft tones as a rule gives the best result. The paint of the wood- 
 work should have direct relation to the colouring of the paper ; 
 of course white paint, toned or cream, ivory or " broken" white, 
 as the painters call it, will "go " with almost any soft toned 
 paper, but it is apt to be a httle cold, and verj' often it is best 
 to match the paint to the prevailing or most assertive tint of 
 the paper. Grained paint, imitation oak, walnut and so on, 
 is an ugly vulgar sham, a waste of time, pains, and ingenuity. 
 Thank Heaven it is dying ont.J^ ^ J^ ^ J^ ^ J^ Jft 
 IN deciding upon the colouring of a room, selecting its wall 
 paper and paint, the aspect must be thought of: cooler tints for 
 the southern and eastern rooms, warmer for north and west 
 are advisable. Then, in the countr}', with ground floor rooms 
 that look out directly upon the greenery of shrubs, trees, and 
 grass, it is well to have colours that contrast with green — blue, 
 yellow, or red — as you will see the room colour against the ex- 
 ternal green out of windows. This should be remembered 
 in choosing curtains. Jfi4tA»^4*4*^4»4»^ 
 OUR parlours for the most part now-a-days are ruined by 
 cheap ready made joinery, vulgar mouldings run out by the 
 thousand miles, flimsy doors imported in hundreds from 
 America and Norway, and, where the decorator or the house- 
 holder's wife soars above this kind of thing, by the nasty little 
 gimcrack over-mantels, with silly balustrades and balconies, 
 and cheap bits of gilding and Christmas card picftures. Jfk cf» 
 BUT of all the important features of a room the fireplace is, 
 perhaps, the most important, artistically and pradtically 
 speaking; in England, with a chilly average temperature, 
 especially so. So important do I consider the chimney-piece to 
 be, architecfturally, that I am going to tax your patience with 
 the consideration, historical and general, of chimney-pieces. Jft 
 HISTORICALLY, not to take up too much of your time, I 
 will begin with the sixteenth century. The sixteenth century 
 
112 
 
 was, perhaps, par excellence, the age of chimney-pieces — in 
 England at any rate, for it was the age of exuberant carving. 
 And it was at the end of its first quarter that the classical 
 renaissance began to get real hold upon English art, producing 
 at first a blend or medley, hybrid it is true, but almost 
 always picturesque. This blend, or English early renaissance, 
 is known as the " EHzabethan " style. ^^fCf^ ^^^fTC. ^^"TC 
 THE beginning of the sixteenth century is charadterised by 
 what is called the Tudor or late Gothic style. The chimney- 
 pieces of this style differ little in essentials from those of the 
 latter end of the preceding century which I have noticed. ^r?^ 
 THE tracing I have here of a fire-place is from Coulston's 
 house, Bristol, and is a good example. The form of the 
 shields shows the beginning of the renaissance feeling. Those 
 of any importance were generally chara(fterized by the depressed 
 arch, as in the Magdalen College example, and frequently 
 bore, above the opening, coats of arms or carved panels. 
 IN large halls the opening was sometimes of extreme width, 
 and considerable depth, so that two or three people could sit 
 inside the arch upon benches or settles, and warm themselves 
 at the log fire on the hearth. 0rrC ^^^fTC 0*Tt 0ffTC. 
 IN small houses — farm houses and the like — the fireplace of 
 the kitchen, which was always also the living-room of the 
 house, formed almost a small room of itself. It was flanked by 
 walls extending into the room, or built in an angle of the room, 
 with a wide arch overhead, and sometimes even with a window 
 pierced through the outer wall. Settles were placed inside this 
 ingle nook as it is called. Many instances of this form of fire- 
 place exist, and they are of all dates, from this period to about 
 the middle of the last century, or perhaps later, and are found 
 all over England and Wales, but are commoner in the North of 
 England than elsewhere.gJ«T€ ^^^fTC. CJ^TC C^'TC C^"^ 
 THESE great open fire-places from which, as you sit on the 
 settle inside, you can see the sky through the wide chimney, 
 have, from a modern point of view, many objedtions. Even 
 sitting close to the fire, while your face is scorched, and your 
 clothes perfumed by the wood smoke, your back gets cold from 
 the tremendous draught, and a roaring fire must be kept up to 
 throw much heat out into the room. ^*f(TC. ^^^fTC. C^^T^ 
 BUT while the forests lasted, and logs could be got for burning, 
 they answered well enough, and, at any rate, secured ample 
 ventilation, and then our ancestors were hardy, and could stand 
 draughts. ^TTf gJarrC 0*^ 0f^ 0^^ C^TC 
 
"3 
 
 THE succeeding, " Jacobean " style differs so little from 
 
 the " Elizabethan " that, though it properly belongs to the 
 
 seventeenth century, I will speak of it here 
 
 The lefturer before noticing sixteenth century work in other 
 
 round^wUh countries. It is, upon the whole, ruder than the 
 
 comments a Elizabethan work ; the carving shows a distindl 
 
 series of photo- falling off in delicacy and refinement of form, but 
 
 ill"s?rations '* ^^ generally pidturesque and pleasing from its 
 
 quaintness. 0(TC 0^TC 0fTC 0fTt C>»TC 
 
 JACOBEAN fireplaces are quite common in all parts of 
 
 England, and are often-times of considerable size and pretension 
 
 in smalhsh houses. 0(TC 0fTC. 0*TC 0(TC. 0^*7^ 0<TC. 
 
 A VERY charadteristic example of a Jacobean fire-place in a 
 
 small house is that from Kingston-on-Thames. The quaint 
 
 rudely carved oaken mantel, and stumpy fluted 
 
 Kingston-on- oak pilaster below, enclosing the stone jamb, and 
 
 ames. ^^^ head with its quaintly cut frieze, are extremely 
 
 typical of the period. 0SfTt 0f(TC. ^(TC 0*TC 
 
 BEFORE quitting the subjecft of English Elizabethan and 
 
 Jacobean fire-places, I should wish to draw your attention to 
 
 the fadl that from the beginning of the sixteenth century many 
 
 Italian artists were employed in England to execute various 
 
 works in marble, stone, and plaster, and to instru<5l English 
 
 \vorkmen in the Italian renaissance style then in vogue. The 
 
 revival of classical literature went hand-in-hand with the 
 
 revival of classical art. There was a great desire amongst men 
 
 of wealth and cultivation to be in corredl taste. It was the 
 
 fashion to patronise the arts ; in a word, to be dilettante. 
 
 Italy was the home and cradle of renaissance art, and its 
 
 professors were accordingly invited to our shores. This fadl 
 
 accounts for the entirely Italian works one so often discovers 
 
 in English churches or mansions, sometimes the adlual work 
 
 of Itahan hands, sometimes of those of English disciples. 
 
 Fire-places, as a matter of course, shared the attention of these 
 
 Itahan artists. 0*TC ^'TC 0fTC g^TC 0"^ 0^^ 
 
 A VERY pretty instance of a fireplace in the Italian manner, 
 
 probably the work of an Italian, is that from a room in 
 
 Bolsover Castle, Derbyshire ; a room that is known by the 
 
 singularly unattradtive name of " Hell," on account of the 
 
 subjedls of its mural decorations. This fireplace is placed 
 
 across the angle of the room, a very pretty plan, by-the-way, 
 
 and one common in all centuries after the fifteenth century, 
 
 especially common in the Queen Anne and Georgian eras. 
 
114 
 
 FIRE-PLACE 
 IN HELL, 
 
 BOLSOVER 
 CASTLE. 
 
"5 
 
 It is a scientific plan, as well as a pidluresque one, for the heat 
 is refle(5led diagonally into the room, and is thrown against 
 walls at right angles to one another, instead of against one 
 wall opposite the fire, which reflecfts it back again into the 
 fire-place. This plan also saves space and material, and is, 
 in every way, worthy of the consideration of modern builders, 
 many of whom adopt it. This Bolsover fire-place is construdted 
 of light brown stone, and white alabaster, with panels of grey 
 marble, and bosses of purple 
 fossil and spar. "]Ar "A' "^ 
 AS the forests disappeared 
 before the axe, and logs 
 became more difficult and 
 expensive to obtain for burn- 
 ing, coal was more and 
 more used, and, during the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth- 
 centuries, the form of grate 
 called a basket-grate, was in 
 general use. i^ ^ i^ i^ 
 THE tracing which I have 
 here represents a typical 
 basket-grate which I found 
 in a Jacobean fire-place, in 
 an old house at Bristol. The 
 tall cast-iron back refledted 
 the heat, attracted the smoke 
 to the back, and prevented 
 the back of the fire-place 
 from being smoked. It is 
 
 a form which is coming very much into vogue again. -jj^ ^ ^ 
 THERE are four fine chimney pieces now in South Kensington 
 Museum, of all of which I am able to show representations, and 
 which I hope you will go and see for yourselves. They were 
 all in a house in Lime Street, London, destroyed for the 
 eredtion of the Law Courts. The fire-place is of stone in each 
 case ; the mantel of oak. Their effedt is extremely good ; some 
 of the small bosses are in ebony. The pilasters and the form 
 of the panels are most characteristic of the period. "^ "^ "^ 
 A VERY characfteristic form of fire-place of the end of the 
 seventeenth century is that of the bole(5tion moulding. 
 Examples of this abound in Hampton Court, and are of the 
 time of William and Mary. This form was in use fronj the 
 
ii6 
 
 time of Charles II. to that of Queen Anne. There was usually 
 one shelf over it. I give two instances from Hampton Court. 
 They are contemporary with the introdu(5tion of Dutch tiles : 
 for lining fireplaces, backs and sides, a most charming 
 treatment — quaint Bible subje(5ts, horsemen, &c. — and all these 
 things came in with sash-windows and the other Dutch 
 elements, and made up what is called the Queen Anne style — 
 out of compliment, perhaps, to William of Orange.>^^s^N^p^ 
 TOWARDS the middle of the eighteenth century, Greek 
 Architedture was much studied ; Greek forms came in with 
 Chippendale Furniture, the Greek honeysuckle, and the fret 
 pattern. .#^^^>^^^x#^^S#S#-.#N#^^-^S#^ 
 THE Adams style, as it is called, came next, springing from 
 this ; but in form often too slender. The best instances 
 of Adams chimney pieces are carved in wood, but some- 
 times are ornamented with composition, sometimes with 
 lead fittings. You will see some among my sketches.>^ps^^ 
 AND now, having tried to interest you in the fire-place of the 
 past, I trust you will bear with me if I say a few words about 
 those of the present and future. And under the head of 
 present I shall ask you liberally to allow me to include the last 
 sixty years. There have 
 been dreadful things done in ■ 
 the way of fire-places, as 
 well as in some other direc- 
 tions, during that period. 
 THE jerriest of jerry build- 
 ers generally embellishes the 
 parlours of his jerriest villas 
 with white marble mantel- 
 pieces, usually of a simple 
 but extremely ugly design. 
 One long flat piece of marble 
 laid horizontally upon the 
 tops of two shorter flat upright pieces, upon the very top of 
 which a thin flat slab is insecurely fastened with cement. ..^ 
 THE fire is contained in a cast-iron grate, also of the cheap 
 and nasty order. ^S#S#S#S#S#S#S#^^S#S^ 
 THE introduftion of steam machinery into shops, and marble 
 works, has brought about a sad state of things in fire-place 
 architedture by rendering the importation and the working of 
 marble so cheap and easy, that the speculative builder has been 
 able to introduce marble mantel-pieces of the cheapest, nastiest, 
 
 
 ^^•'-^ ~^^^--0»'v 
 
 s 
 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 '3& 
 
 
 jerry's 
 
 PATTERN 
 
 1 
 
 
 FIRB-PLACK. 
 
 .^ 
 
 v-o 
 
 
 r::^ 
 
117 
 
 and most ready-made description into all sorts and conditions 
 of houses. ^#S#S#^^N#^^N#S^^K#S#S#-^- 
 WHEN the modern builder, of the average type, an honest and 
 well-meaning man, wishes to ornament a marble mantel-piece, 
 he procures two ready-made, heavily, clumsily contrived marble 
 brackets, and places them, one on each side, to support the 
 shelf, and in either case, jerry or not jerry, he makes the shelf 
 absurdly low, often-times not more than three feet and a feu- 
 inches from the floor. x#S#S#S#S#^^S#S#=^^^^- 
 YOU will observe that, by a kind of instinct, the British 
 householder, artistic or inartistic, invariably regards the fire- 
 place as the chief point in the room for ornamentation, and in 
 this, I need hardly say, I think he is perfectly right. Indeed, 
 the instinct is most natural, for the family circle for six or 
 seven months of the year is grouped around the fire-place. 
 And a further instinct guides him to adopt some arrangement 
 which tends to increase the imposing effect of the fire-place, 
 and give it height, and some attempt at dignity. He often fixes 
 a large mirror, resplendent in curly gilding of composition 
 frame, immediately over the mantel-shelf, not I think with 
 happy effect ; or he procures somewhere a curious combination 
 of little shelves, tiny balustrades, looking-glass and cheap 
 mouldings, in ebonised or highly polished wood, and fixes that 
 over the fire-place. This is called an over-mantel, and its 
 owner usually regards it with great complacency — a yery 
 mistaken complacency !r#S#S#S#S#S#S#^^S#N#^ 
 NOW the fire-place is the domestic high altar of our homes, and 
 should be the most dignified point in the room, the focus of 
 decorative eifect. In a high or moderately high room, it should 
 be tall, the mantel shelf placed 4 or 5 feet from the floor. If an 
 arrangement can be made to carry the lines of the fire-place up 
 to the ceiling by panelling and shelves, so much the better ; but 
 a very good and effective substitute is a piece of needlework, rich 
 and soft in colour, hung flat and even, not in folds, upon the 
 wall, and extending from the mantel-shelf nearly or quite up to 
 the ceiling, as circumstances and proportion may dictate. Upon 
 this background — which is much like the dossal of an altar — 
 may be hung mirrors, small pictures, miniatures, or candle 
 sconces ; while it makes an admirable backing for the china, 
 brass, or silver candlesticks or other ornaments that find 
 their way naturally to the mantel-piece.^ps^s^S^S^S^^ 
 pOR the hearth itself, the prettiest arrangement I think is the 
 
ii8 
 
 open hearth Hned with tiles ; modern Dutch tiles can easily 
 be obtained, and are not costly. 5fr§fr5fr§<^5^5fr5«»§©»5o'S«» 
 THEN a basket-grate is placed in the middle of the hearth ; 
 when lit its heat is reflected off the tiles into the room ; this 
 makes a bright and cheery looking hearth, and if the tiles and 
 grate be well chosen, is a pleasant arrangement even in summer 
 when there is no fire. 5frS^S^Sc»5©»5^5c»5©»5fr5^go»5©»5fr» 
 THEN the fender and fire-irons must be carefully selected, 
 and the contorted abominations in cast iron and steel work 
 with ormolu enrichments avoided. Equally careful selection 
 must be given to the china and other ornaments that occupy 
 the shelf or shelves, and the domestic altar is complete. 5fr 5©« 
 WITH regard to the future of fire-places, I take it that in 
 spite of baleful prophecies to the contrary, our coal supply will 
 be for some years equal to the demand, and that, consequently, 
 we shall go on having coal fires — in England at any rate — for 
 the open fire with us is, I thank Heaven, a national institution, 
 and we have not taken, like the Germans, to stoves, or the 
 Americans, to hot air.5o» ^ 5^ 5^ ^ 5c» S** 5^ 5«» 5©» 5^ ^O' 
 THIS being the case, and as the practical requirements, which 
 are, on the whole, very well met by the best of modern grates, 
 will remain what they are, and as the artistic treatment is im 
 proving every day, I think we may regard the fire-place future 
 as hopeful. Already, in new homes, one sees less often the 
 heavy gloomy marble abortion which does duty for a chimney- 
 piece, and which — so similar is its design to the works of the 
 monumental mason, — suggests rather the entrance to a sepul- 
 chre than an apparatus for imparting warmth and brightness, 
 the suggestive resemblance being heightened by the dismal 
 cavern of black-leaded cast-iron which fills its interior. S«» 5«>» 
 
iig 
 
 AFTER THE PAPER THERE WAS A DISCUSSION. 
 AND THE ILLUSTRATIONS WERE GONE INTO IN 
 MORE DETAlL.§^^^§i^§^§^^§^§i^^^^^^^^ 
 
 *«^r$^«^r^.?» J^-SS^J^rS^^ l^rg*^ i^r^^ l^r^^ 1^,^^ |^^^ 1^ 
 
 QUESTION from a student : " Why do casement windows 
 open outwards ?" 5^5^5frSfr5^S^5fr5^5<^5fr5<^5<^5<K 
 
 REPLY : " I think there is every reason for this. One thing is 
 to exclude water by the rim. If you opened them inwards you 
 could have no rim which could exclude the water and air that 
 would otherwise get in."5fr 5^ 5^ 5«» 5^ 5^ ^ 5^ ^ ^ S<^ 
 
 QUESTION : "You spoke before of some composition having 
 been put over the mantelpiece. I have often wanted to try 
 experiments of lead-work on wood. Do you consider that lead 
 was put up for the purpose of decoration itself, or as a basis 
 for working on?"§fr§^5fr5fr5fr5fr5fr5^5fr5<^5<^5<^ 
 REPLY : " It was put for the purpose of decoration. I have 
 seen it worked up for medallions." 5^ 5<^ 5<k 5^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 QUESTION : " Then the decorative effedt was given by the 
 grey lead on the wood ?"§^^^^§^§^^§^s<^^ 
 
 REPLY : " No, the lead with the wood and the other 
 ornaments ; and I once worked in a room in which the 
 cornices were carved and then decorated with medallions in 
 lead. These ornaments were often used by ship builders, 
 because they resist sea water and insefts." 5fr §<► 5<^ 5<^ 5«» 5^ 
 
 
121 
 
 RECIPES & NOTES. 
 
 A RECIPE FOR GESSO CONTRIBUTED BY 
 MR. G. F. WATTS. sf^^a^s^s^^a^s^s^-^S^ 
 
 THIS recipe was used by the late Mr. Osmund Weeks, who wrought 
 for Mr. Walter Crane, Mr. Burne Jones, and Mr. Richmond; 
 it has been used in work now standing some three years. 5<^ 5^ 5^ 5©» 
 
 s^^^s^s^ OUT-DOOR GESSO, s^s^^^^ 
 
 OUT-DOOR Gesso may be used on brick-work which is first 
 thoroughly wet, or, if more convenient, on a panel of Portland 
 cement, very easily made by pouring the cement into a rough 
 wooden frame work of the necessary size. 5<k §» 5*» 5^ 5^ 5c» 
 THE Gesso is merely of Portland cement (rather wet), three 
 parts ; slate lime, one part ; and a sufficient quantity of tow, 
 cut about a quarter of an inch long ; very carefully mixed with 
 water with a strong fixat, on a small hawk-board. 5^ ^ ^ ^ 
 TO colour the cement, a small quantity of oxide of iron, or 
 other mineral colour, may be used, as the Portland cement 
 is a rather cold grey. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 THE panel, or work on the wall, may be left for any length 
 of time, but must be wetted very thoroughly before additional 
 cement is apphed. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 ON no account should fresh cement be laid on a part of the 
 work already dry without this thorough wetting. ^ 5<^ 5<^ ^ 
 MATERIALS are very simple and inexpensive — Portland 
 cement, lime, oxide of iron, hawk-board, fixat, and tow. ^ ^ 
 
 ^X 
 
THREE RECIPES FOR GESSO CONTRIBUTED 
 BY MR. WALTER CRANE. ^^^^^^^^ 
 
 VARIOUS ways of mixing according to scale, object, and style of 
 work ; for small fine work with the brush, the best is 5«» S©* 5«» S«» 
 
 s^a^^^^S^ GESSO DURO. c^»>^^^^a^ 
 
 No. I. — BOIL one part powdered resin in four parts linseed 
 (boiled) oil; add six parts melted glue ; soak whitening in water 
 till soft through, and add to above with sufficient hot water to 
 mix to consistency of thick cream. 5<^5®»5®»5^S^^S«^S«» 
 
 No. 2.— FOR rather bolder work, mix fine Italian plaster of 
 Paris with thin glue or size, to a creamy consistency, and lay 
 on with a fine pointed brush, say a " rigger." 5o» §fr ^ 5©» ^ 
 
 No. 3. — FOR larger relief work, the mixture No. 2, but in 
 working, take cotton wool, and pulling off pieces, and pulling 
 it out free of lumps, dip it into the plaster and lay it on to 
 your panel, and so model up your design. This works well on 
 Gibson's plaster ; but for all Gesso work, whether on wood or 
 plaster, or other grounds, it is well to coat the ground with 
 shellac. Some wet the ground, some use lime water. The 
 great danger of Gesso work, is the peeling off when dry. ^ 5^ 
 
123 
 
 THE FOLLOWING NOTES FROM MRS. MERRY- 
 FIELD'S "TREATISES ON PAINTING," VOL. II., 
 PAGE 638, MAY SERVE AS AN INTERESTING 
 COMMENT ON THE ABOVE, AND AS A FURTHER 
 ILLUSTRATION TO THE METHOD EMPLOYED BY 
 MR. RICHMOND IN HIS STUCCO WORK, ON THE 
 PRINCIPLE OF JULIO ROMANO, THE FELLOW 
 PUPIL OF GIOVANNI DA UDINE. s^s^s^s^^ 
 
 THE extract is taken from a manuscript of the 16th century 
 entitled " Secreti Diversi," in the Library of S. Marco at Venice. 
 
 TRIED by Master J-acopo di Monte S. Savino, the sculptor. 
 Admirable stucco for making and modelling figures, and for 
 colouring them, and it resists water. ^ §^ §^ ^ §^ §^ ^ 5^ 
 " TAKE of finely powdered travertine lb. v., and if you 
 would have it finer and more delicate, take fine marble instead 
 of travertine, and 2 lbs. of slaked lime ; mix them together 
 with water, and stir and beat them well together like a fine 
 paste, and execute what works you please with it, either by 
 forming it with your hands, or in moulds, and dry it in the 
 shade. And if you wish to colour it white, when the work is 
 dry enough to be tolerably firm, but not quite dry, grind 
 white lead with water in the same way as colours are ground, 
 and flower (or finest particles) of sifted lime, and apply it with 
 the pencil, and it will be very white, and will effedtually resist 
 water. And if you wish to colour it with other colours, let 
 the work dry perfeeftly, and then colour it ; but these colours 
 will not resist water, like the white, because they do not 
 incorporate or unite so well as that does with the materials of 
 which the work is composed. If, then, you wish the colours 
 to resist water, apply on the work the above-mentioned 
 composition (which is to be used in the manner described), 
 and paint on it with oil-colours. 5^ 5©» ^ ^ §^ ^ §^ 5^ 5^ 
 YOU may also colour the stucco with colours ground up dry, 
 but these will not be so bright as if they were applied 
 afterwards."5fr §^^^^^^^^»^k^^^&^^ 
 ^#^^^x^^#^ >#^ ^ ^^ .#^ ^#^ ^^ .#^ ^#^ N#^ ^^ ^#^ 
 THE invention of this stucco is ascribed to Giovanni da Udine, 
 on the following authorities : — Morelli in his description of the 
 Marciana M.S'., observes, ^5©»5^Sfr5®»5®»5©»S®.5<K5©'5©> 
 "M. JACOPO DA MONTE, whose method of making varnish 
 
124 
 
 and stucco is there shown ; the stucco is the same as that 
 which, on the authority of Raffaello Borghini (Riposo, p. 402) 
 and of others, was invented by Giovanni da Udine, and by 
 him employed in the celebrated Loggie of the Vatican." 5<k ^ 
 
 BORGHINI' S account of the invention of this stucco is as 
 follows : 5«»5^5<^5<K5<^5fr5^S^5^§<^5^5o»S^5^S^5fr 
 "While Giovanni was working with Raifaello at Rome 
 excavations were made in search of antiquities among tlie 
 ruins of the Palace of Titus, and some apartments were 
 discovered decorated with grotesque paintings and small 
 historical figures and ornaments in relief, composed of stucco. 
 Giovanni and Raffaello went together to see them, and were 
 lost in admiration. Pictures of this kind being found in 
 grottoes, were called ' Grotesques.' They were carefully 
 copied by Giovanni, who made many imitations of them in 
 various places, and nothing was wanting but to discover the 
 mode of making the ancient stucco ; he, therefore, tried so 
 many things, that at last he discovered that he could make 
 the ancient stucco with lime made from white travertine, 
 mixed with white marble in the finest powder ; and so, these 
 stucchi, with beautiful grotesque ornaments, and many new 
 and rare designs, were employed by the order of Pope Leo (X) 
 in the Loggie of the Vatican." k^&^^^^^^^^ 
 
 V A SARI, in his life of Giovanni da Udine, mentions these 
 experiments at greater length, and informs us what materials he 
 tried before he succeeded in imitating the ancient stucco. 5^ 5iK 5fr 
 
125 
 
 ENVOI FROM THE GVILD 
 
 THE original notice as to the objedts of the Guild and School 
 of Handicraft issued some three years ago was as follows : — 
 
 "THE Guild and School oi Handicraft has for its objedl 
 the application of Art and Industry. It is a Co-operative 
 Society of Workmen, working out original designs, either of 
 their own or such as may be submitted to them from without. 
 In connexion with, and dependent on it, is a School of about 
 loo working men and boys. Its effort is to apply the Guild 
 System of Mediaeval Italy to modern industrial needs, and to 
 the movement for Technical Education." ^ ^ ^ &^ ^ ^ 
 
 ^^^.^^#-^#-^^#^^^^^#^^#-^^^#^^#^^#- 
 
 THIS obje(5t has been adhered to, and the three main lines of 
 work, wood-work, metal-work, and decorative painting, have 
 been developed by the diiferent members of the Guild. ^ ^ 
 AMONG the work executed has been work in copper, brass, 
 wrought iron, silver and bronze, founded, hammered and chased ; 
 wood-work of all kinds, in its relation to the furniture and 
 the fitting of houses ; work in embossed leather, in plaster and 
 in gesso, and the decorative treatment of interiors. Among 
 more recent lines of work taken up by new members of the 
 Guild, is work in stone, and in book illustration ; and at 
 present experiments are being made in the treatment of gems 
 and precious stones in their relation to jewellery, plate, and the 
 precious metals. It is hoped, that in the course of the 
 following year, some of the results of these latter will be 
 offered to the pubhc. 5<^^5<K5©»5fr5<^5<^-S^5fr-5©»5<^5>-5<^ 
 WITH regard to the School, its objedl, as stated at the 
 School Report of 1889, by the governing body of the School, 
 was as follows : — 5<^5o»5fr5<y5^5<K§<KS^5o»5<^5«»5<^5^ 
 
 "THE School of Handicraft does not attempt to cover quite 
 the same ground as the ordinary Technical School. Its 
 objetft is to create a living interest in, and a feeling for, 
 beautiful work in various materials, and in connexion with 
 various industries. The essential feature in the scheme is the 
 dependence on a self-supporting Guild of Workmen, who, it is 
 
126 
 
 hoped, may ultimately be entirely responsible for the School, 
 and implant in the pupils the sound traditions of a workshop." 
 THIS objedl has also been adhered to, and will, in the 
 forthcoming move into larger and more convenient sur- 
 roundings, be furthered and advanced. 5^ ^ ^ 5^ 5<^ 5fr 5^ 
 THE constitution of the School, which was drawn up at the 
 meeting of the Subscribers and Donors at the Office of the 
 Society for the Promotion of Technical Education at West- 
 minster, and under Lord Ripon's presidency, as patron of the 
 School, on June 23rd, i8go, indicates the lines of its development 
 on the above announcement ; and at the next annual meeting 
 of the Subscribers and Donors, the School may, it is hoped, be 
 shown to be virtually independent of public support. ^ ^ ^ 
 
 THE names of the members of the Guild are given here : 
 those with a star having taken part in the educational work of 
 the School. 5fr5^5©»5c»5*-5©>-5«»5©'5<^5fr5fr5frSfrS^5©» 
 THE GUILD OF HANDICRAFT. ^^^^^^^ 
 
 ^^^2^^^^?^^^^^^ FOUNDED, MAY 1888. 
 
 GUILDSMEN. ^a^^^^^^^^s^^s^^ 
 
 •C. R. ASHBEE, B.A., ARCHITECT &■ HON. DIRECTOR.S^SebS*S^«!S»!> 
 
 •JOHN PEARSON, FIRST METAL WORKER.sa•^t•^S•s5^t^*^•b^•^•b^ 
 
 *C. V. ADAMS, FOREMAN &■ FIRST CABINET MAKER.^«5S»;^*sS«^»» 
 
 •JOHN WILLIAMS, METAL WORKER.S»5S«^«!iS«sS«^5^^iS»>S*®*a«!®^ 
 
 •H. PHILLIPS, CABINET MAKER. S»;®SbS»b5^S«>S^S^S^S»»a*aOb-S^ 
 
 •R. G. PHILLIPS, CABINET MAKER. S!%S^^9^S^%-^;^^:e>^;»®eyS*a«'^S^ 
 
 W. CURTIS, CABINET MAKER.S«^;«bSe:g;^S^S»^a»:®^S9>a»!S*S«!^ 
 
 W. A. WHITE, METAL WORKER. S«5S»^»*^S*S^S*»S*a»^a»!S*S* 
 
 W. A. ROSE, JOINER (RESTORATION WORK) .Ses^S«s^^^^^«bS;^ 
 
 •J. EADIE REID, DECORATIVE WORK &- BLACK &• WHITE, '^^ps^^^^ 
 
 APPRENTICES ar FRANKLINS OF THE GUILD. ^ 
 
 •CHARLES ATKINSON. S»>S*S^S^;a^S*S«S»»S«5S*S*^^a«»S»!®«®* 
 
 •WILLIAM HARDIMAN.;g«>g;^a*S^S^S*S»^«^i»!S»!iS»^;«!iS*a*S«®* 
 
 ARTHUR CAMERON. S;^S^^;*2:•^S^a^S;•^S*^^*:a^:a*a^S^a*S•^^ 
 
 WALTER BAIN. s*s^s*s^s^s^s*s*a*s*^s^a«>a»ba^s«!®»s* 
 
 AFFILIATED MEMBERS OF THE GUILD. ^^^ 
 
 R. UNDERBILL, FOR WROUGHT-IRON WORK. S»:S«^*i®»:^»sS*^ 
 H. WARREN, FOR WOOD-CARVING. SftS*S*S«^«i2;«!3^S*a»!®*a* 
 R. HOWLETT, FOR POLISHING &■ STAINING.S»jS*S*sa»»a*S"»S^S* 
 H. DANCEY, FOR DECORATIVE PAINTING, 'S-c.g^iS^^l^'b^^^ 
 J. H. ROBINSON, FOR FOUNDING &■ BRAZING.S^^ts^^J^^t!^:^ 
 W. TURNER, FOR STONE WORK &- CARVING. S«bS*S^S»S^S«!^ 
 
 FRANK PROUT, Secretly of the Gmld.'^'^'SS*>S^^^^S^^dl»i3i>^S>iSi'iS^ 
 WILLIAM FLOWERS, SUwud of Essex House S;»>S"JS«>S'^S«i5tftS«>S*3^ 
 
127 
 
 THE hope of the members of the Guild of Handicraft, either 
 in their combined or in their individual work, is to give 
 expression to the unity of art, to the belief that the various 
 forms of art and handicraft which they pursue, shall not stand 
 alone, but in relation to one another and to the Mother Art of 
 Architedture. Even as she is desolate without the children 
 who support and grace her, so do they grow ill-tutored and 
 reckless without her guidance. It is only in the right harmony 
 of the artistic family that a worthy end can be attained. 5^ §o> 
 
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