DEXTERITY AND AFFECTATION.

A contemptible species of affectation in the form of a dashing dexterity—used, in most instances, to confuse and mystify bad drawing, conceal ignorance of principles, and all the higher excellencies a painter should have studied and brought to aid his work—has been so widely diffused of late, that a notice of this splashing attainment may not be out of place in a work of this kind. I have heard of 'snatching a grace beyond the reach of art,' but could never comprehend its meaning.

It is 'natural to be more captivated with what is brilliant than with what is solid, and to prefer splendid negligence to painful and humiliating exactness.'

Mere novelty and peculiarity, having no other merits, when it ceases to be new, it ceases to have value.

That which is solely addressed to the eye, is certainly inferior to that which is addressed to the imagination.

If too much indulgence is given to peculiarity, mannerism will be sure to be the result!

'A facility in composing, a lively and masterly handling, are captivating qualities to young minds: they endeavour to imitate these dazzling excellencies, and, after much time spent in the frivolous pursuit, find, when too late, the difficulty of retreat; and there is scarce an instance of return to scrupulous labour, after the mind has been deceived by this fallacious mastery. By this useless industry, whilst boys, they have arrived at their utmost perfection; they have taken the shadow for the substance; and make the mechanical felicity the chief excellence of the art, whilst it is one of the most dangerous sources of corruption. They wish to find some shorter path to excellence, and hope to obtain the reward of eminence by other means than those, which the indispensable rules of art have prescribed. But whatever the force of genius may be, there is no easy method of becoming a good painter.'

There is no mechanism in painting; for those, who by a clever handling, possess this quality to the greatest perfection, are rarely found to excel in the higher realities of art.

It is to the whole—the absolute and entire impression—the disposition of pictorial matter and auxiliaries, that imply ability and power in their treatment.

Do not let the love of novelty induce you to leave the beaten path of excellence; for all endeavours to surprise and please by that which is uncommon or new, will be attended with defeat; a matter, oftener the result of idleness and caprice, than the striking effect of a mind well-regulated and devoted to study.

Style, manner, handling, are for the most part matters of tact, distinguishing one painter from another, quite as much as one man's manners are known from another's. Where the inferior and subordinate pursuit of skill in handling or execution is aimed at, it tends universally to form a mannerist; and this is the greatest evil of our time. Instead of elevating the mind to the quality of the whole, it degenerates into an abject and curious species of imitation of the parts, or of some one thing in particular the artist feels he can do cleverly; sacrificing to this 'industrious idleness,' correctness of drawing, character, expression, and elevation of style. In a word, it is mechanics, and not art! Grandeur, sublimity, simplicity, all fly from this one evil.

Style comprehends the whole of a picture, in all its mysterious or simple workings—its moral character—its elevation, or its degeneracy.

Decision, spirit, and freedom of execution and expertness of handling, opposed to feeble uncertainty, have great charms, in common with all excellencies; yet, so delusive is this species of fascination, that it becomes imperious to be guarded against it. The end must not be sacrificed to the means!