DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.53553#0332
298
If I live., friend, I shall visit thy country, which like Greece
in our time, must have become the emporium of learning
and wisdom.—Once more, I pray, let me casta look on thy
specimen of the art of printing.—( Turning over the leaves,)
Excellent, delightful !—Ha ! what do I see ? a copy, by
Hercules ! of a painting in my friend Titius Aristo’s dining-
room. This surely is not printed too ; but drawn on pur-
pose for the illustration of every copy of the book.
Denz. I beg your pardon, Eupator, even the drawing is
printed, or engraved, as we call it. You shake your head
in token of your doubts. Hear me, and then judge. (Here Mr.
D. explained the process of engraving, with German minute-
ness and perspicuity, notwithstanding the frequent interrup-
tions on the part of the French marquis, who conceived him-
self entitled to speak of things which he declared to be de son
ressort, de son metier). The expressions of surprise and ad-
miration of our stranger at this new information equalled
his former protestations : “ Every moment,” said he,cc con-
vinces me of the justness of my first remark. I have to be-
come a citizen of a new world, infinitely more perfect and
enlightened than that which I left behind, In my time we
fondly imagined the genius of my ancestors, the Greeks, had
raised the arts to the highest stage of perfectibility. But I
am sure, with the facilities of instruction and communication
which the invention of engraving must afford, painting,
sculpture, and architecture cannot but have made immense
strides towards superior excellence.”
Self. The fact is the reverse, I lament to say : the works
of Phidias, of Apollonius, and of other Greek masters, which
time has spared us, are still considered as models of perfec-
tion beyond the reach of modern art ; the proportions and
solidity of ancient architecture, such as we behold them in
the Parthenon and in other Grecian temples, in your amphi-
theatres,
If I live., friend, I shall visit thy country, which like Greece
in our time, must have become the emporium of learning
and wisdom.—Once more, I pray, let me casta look on thy
specimen of the art of printing.—( Turning over the leaves,)
Excellent, delightful !—Ha ! what do I see ? a copy, by
Hercules ! of a painting in my friend Titius Aristo’s dining-
room. This surely is not printed too ; but drawn on pur-
pose for the illustration of every copy of the book.
Denz. I beg your pardon, Eupator, even the drawing is
printed, or engraved, as we call it. You shake your head
in token of your doubts. Hear me, and then judge. (Here Mr.
D. explained the process of engraving, with German minute-
ness and perspicuity, notwithstanding the frequent interrup-
tions on the part of the French marquis, who conceived him-
self entitled to speak of things which he declared to be de son
ressort, de son metier). The expressions of surprise and ad-
miration of our stranger at this new information equalled
his former protestations : “ Every moment,” said he,cc con-
vinces me of the justness of my first remark. I have to be-
come a citizen of a new world, infinitely more perfect and
enlightened than that which I left behind, In my time we
fondly imagined the genius of my ancestors, the Greeks, had
raised the arts to the highest stage of perfectibility. But I
am sure, with the facilities of instruction and communication
which the invention of engraving must afford, painting,
sculpture, and architecture cannot but have made immense
strides towards superior excellence.”
Self. The fact is the reverse, I lament to say : the works
of Phidias, of Apollonius, and of other Greek masters, which
time has spared us, are still considered as models of perfec-
tion beyond the reach of modern art ; the proportions and
solidity of ancient architecture, such as we behold them in
the Parthenon and in other Grecian temples, in your amphi-
theatres,