DOI Kapitel:
Chapter II: Naples - The Museum - Capo di Monte
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.59000#0078
Naples—The Museum—Capo di Monte
but hotel life in bad weather is depressing. At a
moment like this we cannot do better than stroll
through the great Museum. We must take one of
the light carriages, and be jolted over the unspeakable
pavement; but we leave the sordid and chilling
realities of outdoor life behind us when we penetrate
to the glorious vision of antiquity within its walls.
A general survey of this Museum gives an im-
pression distinctly different from that given by any other
in the world. It is the only collection I know of in
which the Gods of Greece and of Rome seem really
to hover about their effigies. A mysterious paganism
pervades the atmosphere. All seems real, vital, present,
—not locked away in the lumber rooms of the past, as
is so often felt elsewhere. Perhaps the nearness of
origin has something to do with this sensation ; perhaps
the surrounding landscape has attuned the mind to a closer
grasp. However this may be, I think that every lover
of Greek and Roman poetry will agree in recognising a
subtle and indefinable charm in this beautiful collection.
Great marble Gods gaze placidly at us, as though only
spellbound and waiting for the touch of some Pygmalion
to breathe again and to speak. One is quickly lost in
reverie, and can almost fancy that ambrosial perfumes
have penetrated through the grimy walls. What
majestic repose is in the quiet limbs of these Gods and
Goddesses, and what an antithesis to the restless turmoil
and hurry of our own day! May not this explain how
the real secret of sculpture has been lost ? How can an
age like our own—with its railways, telephones, and
29
but hotel life in bad weather is depressing. At a
moment like this we cannot do better than stroll
through the great Museum. We must take one of
the light carriages, and be jolted over the unspeakable
pavement; but we leave the sordid and chilling
realities of outdoor life behind us when we penetrate
to the glorious vision of antiquity within its walls.
A general survey of this Museum gives an im-
pression distinctly different from that given by any other
in the world. It is the only collection I know of in
which the Gods of Greece and of Rome seem really
to hover about their effigies. A mysterious paganism
pervades the atmosphere. All seems real, vital, present,
—not locked away in the lumber rooms of the past, as
is so often felt elsewhere. Perhaps the nearness of
origin has something to do with this sensation ; perhaps
the surrounding landscape has attuned the mind to a closer
grasp. However this may be, I think that every lover
of Greek and Roman poetry will agree in recognising a
subtle and indefinable charm in this beautiful collection.
Great marble Gods gaze placidly at us, as though only
spellbound and waiting for the touch of some Pygmalion
to breathe again and to speak. One is quickly lost in
reverie, and can almost fancy that ambrosial perfumes
have penetrated through the grimy walls. What
majestic repose is in the quiet limbs of these Gods and
Goddesses, and what an antithesis to the restless turmoil
and hurry of our own day! May not this explain how
the real secret of sculpture has been lost ? How can an
age like our own—with its railways, telephones, and
29