Cleopatra

"That would be a boulder, indeed!" rejoined Miriam, laughing. "But
the difficulty goes to confirm me in my belief that, except for
portrait-busts, sculpture has no longer a right to claim any place among
living arts. It has wrought itself out, and come fairly to an end. There
is never a new group nowadays; never even so much as a new attitude.
Greenough (I take my examples among men of merit) imagined nothing new;
nor Crawford either, except in the tailoring line. There are not, as you
will own, more than half a dozen positively original statues or groups
in the world, and these few are of immemorial antiquity. A person
familiar with the Vatican, the Uffizzi Gallery, the Naples Gallery,
and the Louvre, will at once refer any modern production to its antique
prototype; which, moreover, had begun to get out of fashion, even in old
Roman days."

"Pray stop, Miriam," cried Kenyon, "or I shall fling away the chisel
forever!"

"Fairly own to me, then, my friend," rejoined Miriam, whose disturbed
mind found a certain relief in this declamation, "that you sculptors
are, of necessity, the greatest plagiarists in the world."

"I do not own it," said Kenyon, "yet cannot utterly contradict you, as
regards the actual state of the art. But as long as the Carrara quarries
still yield pure blocks, and while my own country has marble mountains,
probably as fine in quality, I shall steadfastly believe that future
sculptors will revive this noblest of the beautiful arts, and people the
world with new shapes of delicate grace and massive grandeur. Perhaps,"
he added, smiling, "mankind will consent to wear a more manageable
costume; or, at worst, we sculptors shall get the skill to make
broadcloth transparent, and render a majestic human character visible
through the coats and trousers of the present day."