the deep meaning of the myth of
Daedalus as the giver of motion to statues. The literal change from the
binding together of the feet to their separation, and the other
modifications of action which took place, either in progressive skill,
or often, as the mere consequence of the transition from wood to stone,
(a figure carved out of one wooden log must have necessarily its feet
near each other, and hands at its sides), these literal changes are as
nothing, in the Greek fable, compared to the bestowing of apparent life.
The figures of monstrous gods on Indian temples have their legs separate
enough; but they are infinitely more dead than the rude figures at
Branchidae sitting with their hands on their knees. And, briefly, the
work of Daedalus is the giving of deceptive life, as that of Prometheus
the giving of real life; and I can put the relation of Greek to all
other art, in this function, before you in easily compared and
remembered examples.

203. Here, on the right, in Plate XX., is an Indian bull, colossal, and
elaborately carved, which you may take as a sufficient type of the bad
art of all the earth. False in form, dead in heart, and loaded with
wealth, externally. We will not ask the date of this; it may rest in the
eternal obscurity of evil art, everywhere and for ever. Now, besides
this colossal bull, here is a bit of Daedalus work, enlarged from a coin
not bigger than a shilling: look at the two together, and you ought to
know, henceforward, what Greek art means, to the end of your days.

204. In this aspect of it then, I say, it is the simplest and nakedest
of lovely veracities. But it has another aspect, or rather another pole,
for the opposition is diametric. As the simplest, so also it is the most
complex of human art. I told you in my fifth Lecture, showing you the
spotty picture of Velasquez, that an essential Greek character is a
liking for things that are dappled. And you cannot but have noticed how
often and how prevalently the idea which gave its name to the Porch of
Polygnotus, "[Greek: stoa poikile]," occurs to the Greeks as connected
with the finest art. Thus, when the luxurious city is opposed to the
simple and healthful one, in the second book of Plato's Polity, you find
that, next to perfumes, pretty ladies, and dice, you must have in it
"[Greek: poikilia]," which observe, both in that place and again in the
third book, is the separate art of joiners' work, or inlaying; but the
idea of exqui