DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5538#0114
94 PHARAOHS, FELLAHS, AND EXPLORERS.
royalty from Etruria, an ivory standard, or long-stemmed
sceptre surmounted by an eagle, being invariably carried in
their triumphal processions. Thus, the eagles borrowed by
the first ^Napoleon from the classic Caesars, are to this day
the lineal representatives of the insignia of Rome, of Etru-
ria. and of ancient Egypt.
We have now cast a rapid glance at some few examples
of the three earliest schools of painting — the Egyptian, the
Greek, and the Etruscan; we have traced the influence of
Egyptian teaching upon the two younger nations; and we
have seen how the pupils began by reproducing and even ex-
aggerating the conventional errors of their masters. Unlike
the Egyptians, however, they did not go on perpetuating
those errors from age to age, from cycle to cycle. They
learned to look at nature with their own eyes, and to paint,
not what they had been taught, but what they actually saw.
They discovered, for instance, that objects diminish with dis-
tance ; that grass in sunshine is not the same color as grass
in shadow; that a man's nose, because it projects, catches
the light. They discovered that it was possible, merely by
imitating the natural effects of light and shadow, to obtain
a semblance of relief upon a perfectly flat surface. In a
word, they discovered the laws of chiaroscuro, and with
them the art of foreshortening, which is, in fact, perspective
applied to the human figure.
Greek tradition ascribes these great discoveries to an Athe-
nian named Apollodorus,(!8) who flourished about four hun-
dred and thirty years before our era; and it is from this date
that the true art of painting may be said to begin. I low rap-
idly the great Greek school developed, and to what a height
of splendor it ultimately attained, we have already seen.
The Egyptians, meanwhile, went on in the old grooves for
a few centuries longer. But even the Egyptians were con-
verted at last; and the evidence of their conversion comes,
strangely enough, from the cemetery of what was once a
fifth-rate town in the Fayum. The town occupied one cor-
ner of an immense quadrangular platform artificially raised
royalty from Etruria, an ivory standard, or long-stemmed
sceptre surmounted by an eagle, being invariably carried in
their triumphal processions. Thus, the eagles borrowed by
the first ^Napoleon from the classic Caesars, are to this day
the lineal representatives of the insignia of Rome, of Etru-
ria. and of ancient Egypt.
We have now cast a rapid glance at some few examples
of the three earliest schools of painting — the Egyptian, the
Greek, and the Etruscan; we have traced the influence of
Egyptian teaching upon the two younger nations; and we
have seen how the pupils began by reproducing and even ex-
aggerating the conventional errors of their masters. Unlike
the Egyptians, however, they did not go on perpetuating
those errors from age to age, from cycle to cycle. They
learned to look at nature with their own eyes, and to paint,
not what they had been taught, but what they actually saw.
They discovered, for instance, that objects diminish with dis-
tance ; that grass in sunshine is not the same color as grass
in shadow; that a man's nose, because it projects, catches
the light. They discovered that it was possible, merely by
imitating the natural effects of light and shadow, to obtain
a semblance of relief upon a perfectly flat surface. In a
word, they discovered the laws of chiaroscuro, and with
them the art of foreshortening, which is, in fact, perspective
applied to the human figure.
Greek tradition ascribes these great discoveries to an Athe-
nian named Apollodorus,(!8) who flourished about four hun-
dred and thirty years before our era; and it is from this date
that the true art of painting may be said to begin. I low rap-
idly the great Greek school developed, and to what a height
of splendor it ultimately attained, we have already seen.
The Egyptians, meanwhile, went on in the old grooves for
a few centuries longer. But even the Egyptians were con-
verted at last; and the evidence of their conversion comes,
strangely enough, from the cemetery of what was once a
fifth-rate town in the Fayum. The town occupied one cor-
ner of an immense quadrangular platform artificially raised