’Tis true we have the power which we had on earth to a modified degree, of projecting the desired form upon the canvas. I remember always, after looking at my sitter, I could trace in imagination on the canvas the outline and expression of his countenance. This is what we do: the power of execution is so rapid that the time required for painting a picture might with you pass for a moment; but it is only a trained artist whose thoughts and comprehension are skilful enough to produce an effect so rapidly.
Those who have not learned to give form and shape to their ideas while on earth have to pursue a more painful and laborious process.
The modern school of color differs widely from the Venetian, being crude, cold, and sharp in comparison; and, in accounting for this difference, I can simply state that one can only represent what one sees.
The poetic, dreamy age, when men saw nature as through a veil, is past; the matter-of-fact, investigating mind has lifted that veil, and now sees objects as if in mid-day; but, as no condition is stationary, I am told that the mind is gradually moving on in the world of art to a point where it will again see nature in a more subdued and generalized light, as under the declining sun.
The past represented the morning, the present exhibits the noonday, and the future will indicate the evening.
Such is the constant revolution of mind, and its revolution though slow is certain.
In our works of art, sentiment is the prevailing characteristic. Portraits are in great demand.
Spirits send portrait-painters to earth to obtain likenesses of their friends; and those spirit-artists who have the power of seeing the lineaments of these friends and portraying them are constantly engaged.
Leutze has been employed by Lincoln and others to represent scenes in the American rebellion; and Colonel Trumbull, also, has executed some magnificent pictures of the battles of Seven Pines, Fair Oaks, and a skirmish at Hampton Roads.
Stuart has completed a splendid portrait of General Grant, and is now engaged by John Jacob Astor on a likeness of a beautiful lady dwelling on earth. I have received a commission from Mr. James Harper to paint a portrait of his daughter, who occupied the carriage with him when he lost his life. I am at present engaged on a likeness of a lady residing at Albany.