"to learn that alone might consume the labor of a whole life." And it is
an undeniable fact that enlarging the scale of a statue adds in more
than a corresponding degree to the difficulties of the undertaking. The
colossi of the ancients were to a great extent designed for either the
interiors or the exteriors of religious temples, where they were
artfully adapted to be seen in connection with architectural effects.
Concerning the sole prominent exception to this rule, the statue of
Apollo at Rhodes, we have such scant information that even its position
is a subject of dispute. It has been pointed out how the four modern
outdoor colossi of Europe each and all fail to attain the requirements
of a work of art. All our inquiries, it appears then, lead to the
conclusion that Mr. Bartholdi has many chances against him, so far as we
are able to learn from an examination of the precedents, and in view of
these facts it would be a matter for surprise if the "Liberty" statue
should prove to possess any title to the name of a work of art. We
reserve a final decision, however, as to this most important phase of
the affair, until the statue is in place.

[Footnote A: "Les Colosses anciens et moderns," par E. Lesbazeilles;
Paris: 1881.]

The idea that great size in statues is necessarily vulgar, does not seem
admissible. It would be quite as just to condemn the paintings on a
colossal scale in which Tintoretto and Veronese so nobly manifested
their exceptional powers. The size of a work of art _per se_ is an
indifferent matter. Mere bigness or mere littleness decides nothing. But
a colossal work has its conditions of being: it must conform to certain
laws. It must be executed in a large style; it must represent a grand
idea; it must possess dignity and strength; it must convey the idea of
power and majesty; it must be located in a place where its surroundings