act that no one except Hermes ever had these attributes; the doubt
is owing to the choice of insufficiently definite and distinctive
peculiarities. But it now strikes us: all this is founded upon the
supposition that we know that the barbarians wore trousers and mitres,
that Orpheus was a sort of barbarian, that Greek ephebi wore tunics and
short-cut hair, that Hermes was a sort of ephebus, that, moreover, he
was a conductor of souls; now, supposing we knew none or only some of
these facts, which we certainly should not, if classical dictionaries
had not taught them us, how could we argue that this is Orpheus and that
Hermes? Is the meaning of a work of Art to depend on Lempriere and Dr.
William Smith? At that rate the sculptor might as well have let alone
all such distinctions, and merely written under one figure _Orpheus_
or _Amphion_, whichever it might be, under the other _Hermes_ or
_Zethus_; this would not have presupposed more knowledge on our part,
since it seems even easier to learn the Greek alphabet than the precise
attributes of various antique gods and demi-gods, and then, too, no
mistake would have been possible, we should have had no choice, the
figure _must_ be either Orpheus or Amphion, Hermes or Zethus, since the
artist himself said so. But this would be an admission of the incapacity
of the art or the artist, like the old device of writing--"This is a
lion," "This is a horse;" well, but, after all, how are we able to
recognise a painted lion or a horse? Is it not, thanks to previous
knowledge, to our acquaintance with a live horse or live lion? if we had
never seen either, could we say, "This is a lion," "That is a horse?"
evidently not. But then, most people can recognise a horse or a lion,
while they cannot be expected to recognise a person they have never
seen, especially a purely imaginary one; the case is evidently one of
degree; if we had never seen a cow, and did not know that cows are
milked, we should no more understand the meaning of a representation
of cow-milking than we should understand the meaning of a picture of
Achilles in Scyros if we knew nothing about Achilles. The comprehension
of the subject of a work of art would therefore seem to require certain
previous information; the work of art would seem to be unable to tell
its story itself, unless we have the key to that story. Now, this is
not the case with literature; given the comprehension of the separate
words, no further information