Among the Greeks, in the best ages of sculpture, and in all their very finest statues, this seems to be the presiding principle--viz. that in sculpture the repose of suspended motion, or of subsided motion, is graceful; but arrested motion, and all effort, to be avoided. When the ancients did express motion, they made it flowing or continuous, as in the frieze of the Parthenon.
Ye pale and glorious forms, to whom was given All that we mortals covet under heaven-- Beauty, renown, and immortality, And worship!--in your passive grandeur, ye.
There's nothing new in life, and nothing old; The tale that we might tell hath oft been told. Many have look'd to the bright sun with sadness, Many have look'd to the dark grave with gladness; Many have griev'd to death--have lov'd to madness!
What has been, is;--what is, will be;--I know, Even while the heart drops blood, it must be so. I live and smile--for O the griefs that kill, Kill slowly--and I bear within me still My conscious self, and my unconquer'd will!
And knowing what I have been--what has made My misery, I will be no more betray'd By hollow mockeries of the world around, Or hopes and impulses, which I have found Like ill-aim'd shafts, that kill by their rebound.
Complaint is for the feeble, and despair For evil hearts. Mine still can hope--still bear-- Still hope for others what it never knew Of truth and peace; and silently pursue A path beset with briers, "and wet with tears like dew!"
To-day I devoted to the Pinakothek--for the last time!
Just before I left England our projected national gallery had excited much attention. Those who were usually indifferent to such matters were roused to interest; and I heard the merits of different designs, so warmly, even so violently discussed in public and in private, that for a long time the subject kept possession of my mind. On my arrival here, the Pinakothek (for that is the designation given to the new national gallery of Munich) became to me a principal object of interest. I have been most anxious to comprehend both the general design and the nature of the arrangements in detail; but I might almost doubt my own competency to convey an exact idea of what I understand and admire, to the comprehension of another. I must try, however, while the impressions remain fresh and strong, and the memory not yet encumbered and distracted, as it must be, even a few hours hence, by the variety, and novelty, and interest, of all I see and hear around me.
