DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5253#0567
532 THE AGE OF SCOPAS, PRAXITELES, AND LYSIPPOS.
The character of her inscription, moreover, is such, that it clearly dates from
about the middle of the fourth century, giving us a clew to the age of the sculp-
tures found. On this site was discovered that draped seated Demeter of schist-
ous marble, with her beautiful head of Parian marble, now occupying the small
anteroom adjoining the Archaic Room of the British Museum, and seated still
among the many votive offerings once dedicated to her, and to the other deities
of the nether world, by the pious women of Cnidos (Plate IV.). The body is
sadly injured, so that the effect of the enveloping drapery is well-nigh lost; and
the back is left flat, a proof that the statue must have occupied a niche, doubt-
less some distance above the eye. The shortness of the waist, which, as the
figure now stands, strikes every observer, is peculiar to many sculptures. It is
not the mutilated form, however, but the head, which claims our reverent atten-
tion, so akin in spirit and workmanship to Praxiteles' Hermes, that we would
fain associate it with the great master whose Aphrodite, we know, was the cen-
tre of attraction at Cnidos, the home of this Demeter. From the inscriptions
alluded to above, together with the character of the head and dress, there can
be no doubt that Demeter, the mourning mother in Greek myth, is represented
in this figure, which, alas ! has suffered so cruelly at the hand of time. But
enough remains for us to be moved by the look of maternal tenderness in this
face, dispelling any impression that Greek art was cold and passionless. There
is an expression, also, of the sorrow of her who anxiously sought her lost
daughter Core ; so gently told, however, in the quiet, peaceful lines of the face,
that we scarcely know where it lurks. A matronly veil, severely simple, in-
tended for covering, not ornament, falls over her head and long curls : her age
is that of one who has passed the bloom and freshness of early youth, but upon
whose face, though sorrow has left its impress, years have not yet ploughed
their furrows. The manner in which this sorrow is expressed is a fascinating
study, as has been well pointed out by Brunn.'°63 It is a fact of daily observa-
tion, that, when deep and long-continued sorrow is felt, the eyes become sunken,
the adipose tissues in which they are embedded diminishing in volume, espe-
cially at the outer corners. This we see in Demeter's face, to which, however,
the sculptor has not given a haggard, painful look. Again, we notice, that
in life, when the mind is anxious, the eye turns away, involuntarily, from near
objects, and gazes forward and upward, as into an unseen and dreaded future ;
when the emotion is intense, or momentary, the eyebrows are strongly knitted,
and the eyelids are convulsive in their lines. But Demeter's chastening sor-
row has become a part of her being: she does not look directly forward, as
does Zeus in his placid dignity, or gently downward, as does Hermes in pleas-
ant thought; but her lower lid at the inner corner moves slightly upward over
the raised eyeball, and her gaze is directed into the distance. The curve of
her eyebrows, indicative of sorrow, is also so subtle as scarcely to be perceived;
but just in front of her temple's we notice that the skin of the otherwise calm,
The character of her inscription, moreover, is such, that it clearly dates from
about the middle of the fourth century, giving us a clew to the age of the sculp-
tures found. On this site was discovered that draped seated Demeter of schist-
ous marble, with her beautiful head of Parian marble, now occupying the small
anteroom adjoining the Archaic Room of the British Museum, and seated still
among the many votive offerings once dedicated to her, and to the other deities
of the nether world, by the pious women of Cnidos (Plate IV.). The body is
sadly injured, so that the effect of the enveloping drapery is well-nigh lost; and
the back is left flat, a proof that the statue must have occupied a niche, doubt-
less some distance above the eye. The shortness of the waist, which, as the
figure now stands, strikes every observer, is peculiar to many sculptures. It is
not the mutilated form, however, but the head, which claims our reverent atten-
tion, so akin in spirit and workmanship to Praxiteles' Hermes, that we would
fain associate it with the great master whose Aphrodite, we know, was the cen-
tre of attraction at Cnidos, the home of this Demeter. From the inscriptions
alluded to above, together with the character of the head and dress, there can
be no doubt that Demeter, the mourning mother in Greek myth, is represented
in this figure, which, alas ! has suffered so cruelly at the hand of time. But
enough remains for us to be moved by the look of maternal tenderness in this
face, dispelling any impression that Greek art was cold and passionless. There
is an expression, also, of the sorrow of her who anxiously sought her lost
daughter Core ; so gently told, however, in the quiet, peaceful lines of the face,
that we scarcely know where it lurks. A matronly veil, severely simple, in-
tended for covering, not ornament, falls over her head and long curls : her age
is that of one who has passed the bloom and freshness of early youth, but upon
whose face, though sorrow has left its impress, years have not yet ploughed
their furrows. The manner in which this sorrow is expressed is a fascinating
study, as has been well pointed out by Brunn.'°63 It is a fact of daily observa-
tion, that, when deep and long-continued sorrow is felt, the eyes become sunken,
the adipose tissues in which they are embedded diminishing in volume, espe-
cially at the outer corners. This we see in Demeter's face, to which, however,
the sculptor has not given a haggard, painful look. Again, we notice, that
in life, when the mind is anxious, the eye turns away, involuntarily, from near
objects, and gazes forward and upward, as into an unseen and dreaded future ;
when the emotion is intense, or momentary, the eyebrows are strongly knitted,
and the eyelids are convulsive in their lines. But Demeter's chastening sor-
row has become a part of her being: she does not look directly forward, as
does Zeus in his placid dignity, or gently downward, as does Hermes in pleas-
ant thought; but her lower lid at the inner corner moves slightly upward over
the raised eyeball, and her gaze is directed into the distance. The curve of
her eyebrows, indicative of sorrow, is also so subtle as scarcely to be perceived;
but just in front of her temple's we notice that the skin of the otherwise calm,