Were this collection rendered apparently less numerous by being
subdivided into different apartments, the eye would certainly be less
dazzled than it is, at present, by an assemblage of so many various
objects, which, though arranged as judiciously as possible, somehow
convey to the mind an image of confusion. The consequence is that
attention flags, and no single picture is seen to advantage, because
so many are seen together.
In proportion as the lover of the arts becomes more familiarized with
the choicest productions of the pencil, he perceives that there are
few pictures, if any, really faultless. In some, he finds beauties,
which are general, or forming, as it were, a whole, and producing a
general effect; in others, he meets with particular or detached
beauties, whose effect is partial: assembled, they constitute the
beautiful: insulated, they have a merit which the amateur
appreciates, and the artist ought to study. General or congregated
beauties always arise from genius and talent: particular or detached
beauties belong to study, to labour, that is, to the _nulla die sine
lineâ_ and sometimes solely to chance, as is exemplified in the old
story of Protogenes, the celebrated Rhodian painter.
To discover some of these beauties, requires no extraordinary
discernment; a person of common observation might decide whether the
froth at the mouth of an animal, panting for breath, was naturally
represented: but a spectator, possessing a cultivated and refined
taste, minutely surveys every part of a picture, examines the
grandeur of the composition, the elevation of the ideas, the
nobleness of the expression, the truth and correctness of the design,
the grace scattered over the different objects, the imitation of
nature in the colouring, and the masterly strokes of the pencil.
Our last visit to the CENTRAL MUSEUM terminated with the Italian
School; let us now continue our examination, beginning with the