The general effect of the stars is all order—all repose; but the means by which this effect is produced is nowhere to be traced!
'The highest style has the least common nature in it:' 'Good sense is not always common sense.'
'We may depart from Nature for a greater advantage. Nature is frequently narrow and confined in her principles, and must as frequently be departed from. Pictures should be painted to give pleasure, and every object which stands in the way of that pleasure must be removed!'
Rubens thought the eye should be satisfied above all other considerations; he, therefore, painted his reflects stronger than Nature would warrant; thereby producing harmony from contrast and variety.
Reynolds, speaking of Claude Lorraine, says, 'Claude Lorraine was convinced that taking nature as he found it seldom produced beauty: his pictures are a composition of the various draughts which he had previously made from various beautiful scenes and prospects.'
The harmony proceeding from contrast and variety of colour is more conspicuous in the landscapes of Rubens, and the gorgeous colouring of the landscapes of Titian, than in Claude—'departing from Nature for a greater advantage!' As in the moonlights of Vanderneer, the pictures of Cuyp and Both, and our own glorious Wilson, Gainsborough, &c. In choosing from among these great manners, we must lean on the observation of Reynolds, when he says, 'An artist is obliged for ever to hold the balance in his hand, by which he must decide the value of different qualities; that when some fault must be committed, he may choose the least.'
There is, beyond all doubt, a grandeur in general ideas, that the narrow conceptions of individual nature can never attain to.
Any subject, however mean or degraded in itself, but painted on a great principle, will acquire splendour and dignity from association.
'Look at Nature! Nature is the true school of Art!' is the universal cry of the vulgar and uneducated. But before their perception is capable of even seeing Nature, as it is spread out before them, they will have much to acquire of Art: for although Nature is before their eyes, to them it is a closed book! This is no new position, for, says Sir Joshua, 'If our judgment is to be directed by narrow, vulgar, untaught, or rather ill-taught reason, we must prefer a portrait by Denner, or any other high finisher, to those of Titian or Vandyck; and a landscape by Vanderheyden to those of Titian or Rubens; for they are certainly more exact representations of Nature. If we suppose a view of nature represented with all the truth of the camera obscura, and the same scene represented by a great artist, how little and mean will the one appear in comparison of the other, when no superiority is supposed from the choice of the subject.'
And again,—'Amongst the painters, and writers on painting, there is one maxim universally admitted and continually inculcated. Imitate Nature is the invariable rule; but I know none who have explained in what manner this rule is to be understood: the consequence of which is, that every one takes it in the most obvious sense, that objects are represented naturally when they have such relief that they seem real. It may appear strange perhaps to hear this rule disputed; but it must be considered that, if the excellence of a painter consisted only in this kind of imitation, painting must lose its rank, and be no longer considered as a liberal art, and sister to poetry—this imitation being merely mechanical, in which the slowest intellect is always sure to succeed best! for the painter of genius cannot stoop to drudgery, in which the understanding has no part;—and what pretence has the art to claim kindred with poetry, but its powers over the imagination? To this power the painter of genius directs his aim; in this sense he studies Nature, and often arrives at the end, even by being unnatural, in the confined sense of the word. The grand style of painting requires this minute attention to be carefully avoided, and must be kept as separate from it as the style of poetry from that of history. Poetical ornaments destroy that air of truth and plainness which ought to characterize history; but the very being of poetry consists in departing from this plain narration, and adopting every ornament that will warm the imagination.