We cannot say that a painter
is great because he paints boldly, or paints delicately; because he
generalizes or particularizes; because he loves detail, or because he
disdains it. He is great if, by any of these means, he has laid open
noble truths, or aroused noble emotions. It does not matter whether he
paint the petal of a rose, or the chasms of a precipice, so that Love
and Admiration attend him as he labours, and wait for ever upon his
work. It does not matter whether he toil for months upon a few inches
of his canvas, or cover a palace front with colour in a day, so only
that it be with a solemn purpose that he has filled his heart with
patience, or urged his hand to haste. And it does not matter whether
he seek for his subjects among peasants or nobles, among the heroic or
the simple, in courts or in fields, so only that he behold all things
with a thirst for beauty, and a hatred of meanness and vice. There
are, indeed, certain methods of representation which are usually
adopted by the most active minds, and certain characters of subject
usually delighted in by the noblest hearts; but it is quite possible,
quite easy, to adopt the manner of painting without sharing the
activity of mind, and to imitate the choice of subject without
possessing the nobility of spirit; while, on the other hand, it is
altogether impossible to foretell on what strange objects the strength
of a great man will sometimes be concentrated, or by what strange
means he will sometimes express himself.
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