There is now (1855) on exhibition in Paris, one of the most remarkable
pieces of masterwork which the union of art and science has ever
produced. It consists of a picture, of about three feet square. This
picture is made up of colors admirable for their beauty and boldness,
but there is no _subject_. The most experienced eye can detect nothing
but disjointed and half-formed approximations toward a coherent design.
The most able artist sees there only the finest colors, but no one can
tell what they are intended to represent. In the middle of the picture,
which is horizontally placed, is a mirror formed by a copper cylinder
covered by a perfectly polished coating of silver. This mirror is
usually veiled. So far there is little remarkable, and the greatest
amateurs in painting would hardly consent to spend five francs on such
an apparently profitless study. But it is impossible not to feel a glow
of admiration, when, on uncovering the mirror, there is represented upon
it in the brightest reflected rays, the whole scene of the Crucifixion.
The partial coloring then takes a character of incontestable
superiority, and presents to the astonished spectators a picture
composed of six most perfect figures, depicted with a degree of boldness
such as the master painters alone knew how to impart to the subject
which it was their glory to represent.