e? Why, of course--well, they are
like--like--like--what in the world should statues _be_ like?--things
cannot be defined in that cut and dry fashion--why, statues are like--.
In short, such questions can neither be asked nor answered by
intelligent folk. They can be put only by people who believe in love
philters and symphonies which talk, and children who fall in love with
towns; idiotic questions like "Why should there be sin?"--and "Why love
our neighbours when they are nasty?"--which only children ask--questions
to answer which as they deserve, you had better get hold of your eternal
fairy-story child, and ask him what the statues said they were like.
Nay, do not lose all patience. And see, since you think that the
question, "What like are the statues" is fit to be answered only by the
child of the fairy tale, we will pretend, for a moment, that the fairy
tale is true, and play, for your benefit, the part of that child. And
the things which that child would have learned, scarce consciously, in
the course of its own growth, and during years of familiarity with all
this host of statues, we will try and explain in an hour or so, by
examining together a single work of ancient sculpture. This work is the
Niobe group; and we have chosen it, after a little thought, for the
purpose, because, from the complication of the story and of the group
itself, it will enable us to illustrate a greater number of points than
could well be done in the examination of isolated antique figures, or
groups of merely two or three, such as there are plenty of here in Rome.
But the Niobe is not in Rome, you will say; why not take some statue or
group of statues here in the Vatican? Because the Niobe can teach us
most in least time; and because also, you need not think of the group as
it stands in the gallery in Florence. Indeed, you must not think of that
group at all, spread out as it is, in idiotic confusion, round the walls
of Peter Leopold's oblong hall. What you must think of, look at, is
this--See: here we have all the figures composing the group, very fairly
copied in terra-cotta, the largest not much longer than your arm; and
these figures we have placed, according to their relative size, in this
rough wooden model of the triangular gable of a Greek temple; following
approximately the design of the restored temple front which Cockerell
made years ago for the Florentine gallery.

Come and stand at a little distance from the table on whic