Accident.—Accident often comes in aid of invention. In nature, all objects by daylight are equally illumined; the painter has, therefore, always found it necessary to avail himself of accident, whenever it may occur: shadows, in particular, reflected upon one object by another; large floating masses of light or shade thrown across a mountain, a flat country, or an open sea, by the passing clouds as they sail by; flashes and streaks of light, as they struggle from between them, &c., are all adapted to work out the general effect. Where the forms of a composition are insufficient, this is the usual resource, these accessories generally supplying grandeur and elevation to the scene. All catching lights should be laid hold of with equal tenacity. The clearing off of a shower is particularly favourable to this useful auxiliary.
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.'