No. II.
----If the painter saw
Naught but the prose of things, and dared but draw
The literal, aged, uninspiring truth,
And saw not nature in her winged youth
Her rainbow aspect, when she stands array'd
In floods of sunshine and in nights of shade,
What would he gain?--_Barry Cornwall_.
In my last number, I undertook to show, that "uncultivated taste, is
incapable of estimating excellence in art" and that, "the beautiful in
nature, like philosophy and science, can only be comprehended by those
who study it profoundly and observe it habitually." But those who
think nature an unveiled beauty to be gazed upon by every wanton eye,
or that the arts aspire no higher than the "prose of things;" those
who are resolved to admire what they like, rather than learn to like
that which is admirable, may spare themselves the trouble of reading
this article,--as my object is, to instruct the teachable, to ramble
with the lover of nature amidst the shades of rural life, and converse
with the amateur of art, about all that is excellent in ancient or
modern works.
Before we can perceive what is beautiful in art, we must comprehend
what is beautiful in nature; and without entering into the abstruse
question of _beauty_, which has so much divided the erudite in all
ages, we may say, that every thing from the hand of the Creator is
beautiful in its _proper place_: and it is precisely this, that is
beautiful in art. But to know the place where beauteous nature lurks,
and to trace the harmony and fitness of every object to the part it
supplies in the picturesque of scenery, requires a mind
"----by nature's charms impress'd,
An ardor ever burning in the breast,
A zeal for truth, a power of thought intense;
A fancy, flowering on the stems of sense;
A mem'ry as the grave retentive, vast
That holds to rise again, the imprison'd past."
Beauty is not confined to the waving line of Hogarth, or to objects
smooth and soft, as Mr. Burke thought, but is multiform in nature, and
therefore admits of a diversity of tastes; yet it is not an arbitrary
principle subject to the fancy of every individual, but like harmony
in music, it vibrates on the imagination and affections of a
cultivated mind, as doth the octave in a well tuned instrument;--the
tutored ear perceives the slightest discordance in sounds, and the
cultivated eye detects with equal facility the want of harmony in art
or nature. It has been said "that the peasant youth, would require
more red in the cheek of his beauty, than would be agreeable to a man
of cultivated taste," and the inference was, "that the delicate is
more beautiful than the florid," but in fact, they are each beautiful
in their _place_. In rustic life, amidst the scenes of the vintage, in
the hay field, or milking the cow--how beauteous is the flush and
healthful bloom of the cottage maiden! The ruby lip and liquid
laughing eye bespeak the joyous heart, pleased with its vocation.
Here, the delicate and courtly dame of polished life would appear
unequal to the task; would be incongruous to the scene, and as much
out of place as epic verse in pastoral poetry;--yet in her proper
sphere
"----those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet
Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul,
Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd
Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart,"
she moves the attractive star of cultivated taste.
The choice of these subjects, constitutes the difference between the
Dutch and the Italian schools of art. The former painted pastoral
scenery with a fidelity incomparably superior to the Italians, yet
greatly inferior in the higher excellencies of art. They are justly
admired for their attention to detail, to exact finish, and all the
results of "mere mechanic pains," but are void of classical taste, of
moral instruction, and the poetry of the imagination, that highest
effort of genius. Their works may therefore be beautiful, but never
sublime, and their attempts at historic painting degrade it to
something worse than caricature. I remember to have seen in the
Louvre, a little painting of this school, designed for "Peter denying
his Lord in Pilate's house." The interior was a _Holland kitchen_;
boors _were smoking_ before a _chimney_ place, or _playing at cards_
on a tub reversed; a coarse looking woman held Peter by his collar,
and chanticleer sat perched on a beam of the house. The costume and
furniture were equally out of keeping, but executed with the most
harmonious tone and finest touch of the pencil. Now the same subject
in the schools of Italy would represent a hall becoming the governor
of Judea, soldiers in Roman costume would be grouped around an antique
vase of embers, placed upon a tripod, and Peter would quail under the
pert recognition of a beautiful damsel; the grey dawn would appear
through the intercolumniations of the portico, and the warning clarion
of the cock would be expressed on the brow of the conscience-stricken
Apostle.
This may not be considered a fair comparison, but rather the
antithesis of the two schools. What then shall we take as the highest
effort of Dutch genius? The Bull of Paul Potter![1] As well might we
compare a wax figure of Tecumseh with the Apollo Belvidere, or the
Sleeping Beauty with the Venus de Medicis. But, if indeed, it be the
highest effort of genius to produce an _exact representation_ of
things, the modeller in wax, is superior to the sculptor in marble,
and the Bull at the Hague, to the Transfiguration in the Vatican. As
no one of any pretension to taste will ever assent to this conclusion,
I must again insist, that art aspires to a higher attainment than the
mere portraiture of nature, and claims poetic honors; it is the poetry
of form and color: it selects the agreeable from the discordant parts
of the great prototype--combines and disposes them--and without
changing the features, elevates and ennobles them; it seizes upon
incidental effects to cast a shadow over the asperities of objects,
and throws a broad and brilliant light on the more beautiful parts.
When Dominichino was asked what obscured a part of his picture, "_una
neblia si passa_," was his reply; and by thus imagining a passing
cloud, he was enabled to preserve that breadth of light and shade so
remarkable in the English school at present. The Italians however, did
not often seek after _effect_; they did not address themselves so much
to the eye, as to the judgment; and their distinguishing excellence is
_correctness_ of _design_ and _dignity of character_. It was this that
acquired for them the praise of a "grand gusto," or sublimity of
style, superior to all other artists.
[Footnote 1: This is esteemed the greatest of the Dutch school.]