both eyes work together. As certain views are frequently repeated, and lead always to substantially the same judgments of distances, the eyes in time must acquire a special skill in geometrical constructions. In the end, undoubtedly, this skill is so increased that a single eye alone is often tempted to exercise that office.
Permit me to elucidate this point by an example. Is any sight more familiar to you than that of a vista down a long street? Who has not looked with hopeful eyes time and again into a street and measured its depth. I will take you now into an art-gallery where I will suppose you to see a picture representing a vista into a street. The artist has not spared his rulers to get his perspective perfect. The geometrician in your left eye thinks, "Ah ha! I have computed that case a hundred times or more. I know it by heart. It is a vista into a street," he continues; "where the houses are lower is the remote end." The geometrician in the right eye, too much at his ease to question his possibly peevish comrade in the matter, answers the same. But the sense of duty of these punctual little fellows is at once rearoused. They set to work at their calculations and immediately find that all the points of the picture are equally distant from them, that is, lie all upon a plane surface.
What opinion will you now accept, the first or the second? If you accept the first you will see distinctly the vista. If you accept the second you will see nothing but a painted sheet of distorted images.
It seems to you a trifling matter to look at a picture and understand its perspective. Yet centuries elapsed before humanity came fully to appreciate this trifle, and even the majority of you first learned it from education.
I can remember very distinctly that at three years of age all perspective drawings appeared to me as gross caricatures of objects. I could not understand why artists made tables so broad at one end and so narrow at the other. Real tables seemed to me just as broad at one end as at the other, because my eye made and interpreted its calculations without my intervention. But that the picture of the table on the plane surface was not to be conceived as a plane painted surface but stood for a table and so was to be imaged with all the attributes of extension was a joke that I did not understand. But I have the consolation that whole nations have not understood it.
Ingenuous people there are who take the mock murders of the stage for real murders, the dissembled actions of the players for real actions, and who can scarcely restrain themselves, when the characters of the play are sorely pressed, from running in deep indignation to their assistance. Others, again, can never forget that the beautiful landscapes of the stage are painted, that Richard III. is only the actor, Mr. Booth, whom they have met time and again at the clubs.
Both points of view are equally mistaken. To look at a drama or a picture properly one must understand that both are shows, simply denoting something real. A certain preponderance of the intellectual life over the sensuous life is requisite for such an achievement, where the intellectual elements are safe from destruction by the direct sensuous impressions. A certain liberty in choosing one's point of view is necessary, a sort of humor, I might say, which is strongly wanting in children and in childlike peoples.
Let us look at a few historical facts. I shall not take you as far back as the stone age, although we possess sketches from this epoch which show very original ideas of perspective. But let us begin our sight-seeing in the tombs and ruined temples of ancient Egypt, where the numberless reliefs and gorgeous colorings have defied the ravages of thousands of years.
A rich and motley life is here opened to us. We find the Egyptians represented in all conditions of life. What at once strikes our attention in these pictures is the delicacy of their technical execution. The contours are extremely exact and distinct. But on the other hand only a few bright colors are found, unblended and without trace of transition. Shadows are totally wanting. The paint is laid on the surfaces in equal thicknesses.
Shocking for the modern eye is the perspective. All the figures are equally large, with the exception of the king, whose form is unduly exaggerated. Near and far appear equally large. Perspective contraction is nowhere employed. A pond with water-fowl is represented flat, as if its surface were vertical.
Human figures are portrayed as they are never seen, the legs from the side, the face in profile. The breast lies in its full breadth across the plane of representation. The heads of cattle appear in profile, while the horns lie in the plane of the drawing. The principle which the Egyptians followed might be best expressed by saying that their figures are pressed in the plane of the drawing as plants are pressed in a herbarium.
The matter is simply explained. If the Egyptians were accustomed to looking at things ingenuously with both eyes at once, the construction of perspective pictures in space could not be familiar to them. They saw all arms, all legs on real men in their natural lengths. The figures pressed into the planes resembled more closely, of course, in their eyes the originals than perspective pictures could.
This will be better understood if we reflect that painting was developed from relief. The minor dissimilarities between the pressed figures and the originals must gradually have compelled men to the adoption of perspective drawing. But physiologically the painting of the Egyptians is just as much justified as the drawings of our children are.
A slight advance beyond the Egyptians is shown by the Assyrians. The reliefs rescued from the ruined mounds of Nimrod at Mossul are, upon the whole, similar to the Egyptian reliefs. They were made known to us principally by Layard.
Painting enters on a new phase among the Chinese. This people have a marked feeling for perspective and correct shading, yet without being very logical in the application of their principles. Here, too, it seems, they took the first step but did not go far. In harmony with this immobility is their constitution, in which the muzzle and the bamboo-rod play significant functions. In accord with it, too, is their language, which like the language of children has not yet developed into a grammar, or, rather, according to the modern conception, has not yet degenerated into a grammar. It is the same also with their music which is satisfied with the five-toned scale.
The mural paintings at Herculaneum and Pompeii are distinguished by grace of representation, as also by a pronounced sense for perspective and correct illumination, yet they are not at all scrupulous in construction. Here still we find abbreviations avoided. But to offset this defect, the members of the body are brought into unnatural positions, in which they appear in their full lengths. Abridgements are more frequently observed in clothed than in unclothed figures.
A satisfactory explanation of these phenomena first occurred to me on the making of a few simple experiments which show how differently one may see the same object, after some mastery of one's senses has been attained, simply by the arbitrary movement of the attention.
Look at the annexed drawing (Fig. 22). It represents a folded sheet of paper with either its depressed or its elevated side turned towards you, as you wish. You can conceive the drawing in either sense, and in either case it will appear to you differently.
If, now, you have a real folded sheet of paper on the table before you, with its sharp edges turned towards you, you can, on looking at it with one eye, see the sheet alternately elevated, as it really is, or depressed. Here, however, a remarkable phenomenon is presented. When you see the sheet properly, neither illumination nor form presents anything conspicuous. When you see it bent back you see it perspectively distorted. Light and shadow appear much brighter or darker, or as if overlaid thickly with bright colors. Light and shadow now appear devoid of all cause. They no longer harmonise with the body's form, and are thus rendered much more prominent.
In common life we employ the perspective and illumination of objects to determine their forms and position. Hence we do not
