DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61217#0161
' THE TWO PATHS.’
149
the descriptive passage above quoted, I would cite
this from the lecture that urges upon architects their
great vocation as sculptors :—
“ Is there anything within range of sight, or concep-
tion, which may not be of use to you 1 . . . Whatever
may be conceived of Divine, or beheld of Human, may
be dared or adopted by you; throughout the kingdom
of animal life, no creature is so vast, or so minute, that
you cannot deal with it, or bring it into service; the
lion and the crocodile will couch about your shafts; the
moth and bee will sun themselves upon your flowers;
for you, the fawn will leap ; for you, the snail will be
slow; for you, the dove smooth her bosom, and the
hawk spread her wings towards the south. All the
wide world of vegetation blooms and bends for you;
the leaves tremble that you may bid them be still under
the marble snow; the thorn and the thistle, which the
earth casts forth as evil, are to you the kindliest ser-
vants ; no dying petal, nor drooping tendril, is so feeble
as to have no help for you; no robed pride of blossom
so kingly, but it will lay aside its purple to receive at
your hands its pale immortality.”
Again, Ruskin compares the interest of the geologist,
of the naturalist, with that of the sculptor, in the things
they study. “You must get the storm-spirit into your
eagles, and the lordliness into your lions.” And again
he shows the forms of lifeless things—the all but in-
visible shells that shall lend their shapes to the starred
traceries of a cathedral roof, the torn cable that can
twine into a perfect moulding: “You who can crown
the mountain with its fortress, and the city with its
towers, are thus able also to give beauty to ashes
149
the descriptive passage above quoted, I would cite
this from the lecture that urges upon architects their
great vocation as sculptors :—
“ Is there anything within range of sight, or concep-
tion, which may not be of use to you 1 . . . Whatever
may be conceived of Divine, or beheld of Human, may
be dared or adopted by you; throughout the kingdom
of animal life, no creature is so vast, or so minute, that
you cannot deal with it, or bring it into service; the
lion and the crocodile will couch about your shafts; the
moth and bee will sun themselves upon your flowers;
for you, the fawn will leap ; for you, the snail will be
slow; for you, the dove smooth her bosom, and the
hawk spread her wings towards the south. All the
wide world of vegetation blooms and bends for you;
the leaves tremble that you may bid them be still under
the marble snow; the thorn and the thistle, which the
earth casts forth as evil, are to you the kindliest ser-
vants ; no dying petal, nor drooping tendril, is so feeble
as to have no help for you; no robed pride of blossom
so kingly, but it will lay aside its purple to receive at
your hands its pale immortality.”
Again, Ruskin compares the interest of the geologist,
of the naturalist, with that of the sculptor, in the things
they study. “You must get the storm-spirit into your
eagles, and the lordliness into your lions.” And again
he shows the forms of lifeless things—the all but in-
visible shells that shall lend their shapes to the starred
traceries of a cathedral roof, the torn cable that can
twine into a perfect moulding: “You who can crown
the mountain with its fortress, and the city with its
towers, are thus able also to give beauty to ashes