Propositions—No. 2
A picture is finished when all trace of the means used to bring about the end has disappeared.
To say of a picture, as is often said in its praise, that it shows great and earnest labour, is to say that it is incomplete and unfit for view.
Industry in Art is a necessity—not a virtue—and any evidence of the same, in the production, is a blemish, not a quality; a proof, not of achievement, but of absolutely insufficient work, for work alone will efface the footsteps of work.
The work of the master reeks not of the sweat of the brow—suggests no effort—and is finished from its beginning.
The completed task of perseverance only, has never been begun, and will remain unfinished to eternity—a monument of goodwill and foolishness.
"There is one that laboureth, and taketh pains, and maketh haste, and is so much the more behind."
The masterpiece should appear as the flower to the painter—perfect in its bud as in its bloom—with no reason to explain its presence—no mission to fulfil—a joy to the artist—a delusion to the philanthropist—a puzzle to the botanist—an accident of sentiment and alliteration to the literary man.
A Hint
Please to take note, my dear Mr. James McN. W., that your "dearest foe," The World, Feb. 17, 1886. 'Arry, is a candidate for the Slade Chair of Art in the University of Cambridge! This is said to be the age of testimonials. A few words from you, my dear James, addressed to the distinguished trustees, could not fail to give 'Arry a lift.
ATLAS.
A Distinction
Atlas, you provoke me! The wisdom of ages means but little—I have said it. Faut être "dans le mouvement," you dear old thing, or you are absolutely out of it!
The World, Feb. 24, 1886.
You are misled, and mistake mere fact for the fiction of history, which is truth—and instructs—and is beautiful.
Now, in truth, 'Arry is dead—very dead.
Did I not, from between your shoulders, sally forth and slay him?—thereby instructing—and making history—and avenging the beautiful.
If within the distant Aïden, you can't descry, "with sorrow laden," the tiny soul of 'Arry, it is because you no longer read your own small print, my Atlas! and the microbes of Eternity escape you.
Moreover, are not these things written in the chronicles of Chelsea, adown whose Embankment I still, Achilles-like, do drag the body of an afternoon?
This practice has doubtless completed the confusion of the wearied ones of Slade—and they of the Schools, accustomed to the culture of Colvin, whose polished scalp I with difficulty collected, ceasing to distinguish between the quick and the dead, will probably prop up our late 'Arry as professor, long to remain undetected in the Chair!
Atlas, tais-toi!—Let us not interfere!
A Document
Atlas—I have come upon the posthumous paper of 'Arry—his certificate of character, and printed pretension to the Professorship of Slade—and O! the shame of it—and the indiscretion of it!
Read, Atlas, and seek in your past for a parallel:
The World, March 24, 1886.
"To the Electors of the Slade Professor of Fine Art for the University of Cambridge.—My Lord and Gentlemen,—I beg to submit my name as a candidate for the Slade Professorship, and enclose herewith a few testimonials ... I have also received favourable letters from the following gentlemen ... Alma-Tadema, R.A., Marcus Stone, R.A., Briton Rivière, R.A., John Brett, A.R.A., ... and others."
What! is the Immaculate impure?—and shall the Academy have coquetted with the unclean?
Had Alma the classic aught in common with this 'Arry of commerce?
Believe him not, Atlas!
O Alma! O Ichabod! forgive us the thought of it!
Surely also the pots of "the Forty" do boil before the Lord, and the flames of the chosen were unfanned by the feather of 'Arry's goose-quill.
Again:
"My experience in art matters has been briefly as follows:
"I have worked at the subject continually in Italy, having for that purpose travelled and stayed in that country—at least a dozen times. I have also painted in France, Germany, and Belgium, in which last-mentioned country I was in a portrait painter's studio."—(A portrait by 'Arry!)
"There are several pictures of mine being exhibited in London at the present time." (!!!)
"I have also executed a good deal of distemper....
"I have also travelled for a year in the East." ('Arry in the East!!)
"I have had, as a lecturer upon Art, considerable experience—at working men's clubs— ... and at the Rev. Stopford A. Brooke's College for men, women, and children.
"For the last ten years I have written every article upon art which has appeared in the Spectator newspaper"—a confession, Atlas, clearly a confession!
"In 1880, I wrote a critical life of Giotto"—he did indeed, Atlas!—I saw it—a book in blue—his own, and Reckitt's—all bold with brazen letters:
"GIOTTO BY 'ARRY"
—"of which two editions were published"—bless him—and then I killed him!
and, "I am, Gentlemen,
"Your most obedient servant,
"'ARRY, M.A.
"Trin. Coll. Camb., Esquire."
The pride of it!
