ration
of any kind on the one hand, it realizes its idea so satisfactorily on
the other, and this idea is so agreeable, so refined, and at the same
time so dignified. The "David" is an early work now in the Luxembourg
gallery, reproductions of which are very popular, and the reader may
judge how well it justifies these remarks. Being an early work, one
cannot perhaps insist on its originality; in France, a young sculptor
must be original at his peril; his education is so complete, he must
have known and studied the beauties of classic sculpture so thoroughly,
that not to be impressed by them so profoundly as to display his
appreciativeness in his first work is apt to argue a certain
insensitiveness. And every one cannot have creative genius. What a
number of admirable works we should be compelled to forego if creative
genius were demanded of an artist of the present day when the best
minds of the time are occupied with other things than art! One is apt to
forget that in our day the minds that correspond with the artistic
miracles of the Renaissance are absorbed in quite different departments
of effort. M. Mercie's "David" would perhaps never have existed but for
Donatello's. As far as plastic motive is concerned, it may without
injustice be called a variant of that admirable creation, and from every
point of view except that of dramatic grace it is markedly inferior to
its inspiration; as an embodiment of triumphant youth, of the divine
ease with which mere force is overcome, it has only a superficial
resemblance to the original.

But if with M. Mercie "David" was simply a classic theme to be treated,
which is exactly what it of course was not with Donatello, it is
undeniable that he has expressed himself very distinctly in his
treatment. A less sensitive artist would have vulgarized instead of
merely varying the conception, whereas one can easily see in M. Mercie's
handling of it the ease, science, and felicitous movement that have
since expressed themselves more markedly, more positively, but hardly
more unmistakably, in the sculptor's maturer works. Of these the chief
is perhaps the "Gloria Victis," which now decorates the Square
Montholon; and its identity of authorship with the "David" is apparent
in spite of its structural complexity and its far greater importance
both in subject and execution. Its subject is the most inspiring that a
French sculptor since the events of 1870-71 (so lightly considered by
those who