1821.] On Means and Ends. 235 



deal of what is finical, I find nothing of the pleasurable in the details of 

 French more than of English art. The English artist, it is an old and 

 just complaint, can with difficulty be prevailed upon to finish any part of 

 a picture but the face, even if he does that any tolerable justice : the 

 French artist bestows equal and elaborate pains on every part of his pic- 

 ture the dress, the carpet, &c. ; and it has been objected to the latter 

 method, that it has the effect of making the face look unfinished ; for as 

 this is variable and in motion, it can never admit of the same minuteness 

 of imitation as objects of still life, and must suffer in the comparison, if 

 these have the utmost possible degree of attention bestowed on them, and 

 do not fail into their relative place in the composition from their natural 

 insignificance. But does not this distinction shew generally that the Eng- 

 lish have no pleasure in art, unless there is an additional interest beyond 

 what is borrowed from the eye, and that the French have the same plea- 

 sure in it, provided the mechanical operation is the same like the fly that 

 settles equally on the face or dress, and runs over the whole surface with 

 the same lightness and indifference ? The collar of a coat is out of draw- 

 ing : this may be and is wrong. But I cannot say that it gives me the 

 same disturbance as if the nose was awry. A Frenchman thinks that both 

 are equally out of drawing, and sets about correcting them both with 

 equal gravity and perseverance. A part of the back-ground of a picture 

 is left in an unfinished state : this is a sad eye-sore to the French artist or 

 connoisseur. We English care little about it: if the head and character 

 are well given, we pass it over as of small consequence ; and if they are 

 failures, it is of even less. A French painter, after having made you look 

 like a baboon, would go on finishing the cravat or the buttons of your 

 coat with all the nicety of a man milliner or button-maker, and the most 

 perfect satisfaction with himself and his art. This with us would be quite 

 impossible, " They are careful after many things : with us, there is one 

 thing needful " which is effect. We certainly throw our impressions 

 more into masses (they are not taken off by pattern, every part alike) : 

 there may be a slowness and repugnance at first ; out, afterwards, there is 

 an impulse, a momentum acquired one interest absorbing and being 

 strengthened by several others ; and if we gain our principal object, we can 

 overlook the rest, or at least cannot find time to attend to them till we have 

 secured this. We have nothing otihepetit-maitre, of the martinet style 

 about us : we run into the opposite fault. If we had time, if we had 

 power, there could be no objection to giving every part with the utmost 

 perfection, as it is given in a looking-glass. But if we have only a month 

 to do a portrait in, is it not better to give three weeks to the face and one 

 to the dress, than one week to the face and three to the dress ? How often 

 do we look at the face compared to the dress ? " On a good foundation," 

 says Sancho Panza, " a good house may be built :" so a good picture 

 should have a good back-ground, and be finished in every part. It is 

 entitled to this mark of respect, which is like providing a frame for it, and 

 hanging it in a good light. I can easily understand how Rubens or Van- 

 dyke finished the back grounds and drapery of their pictures : they were 

 worth the trouble ; and, besides, it cost them nothing. It was to them no 

 more than blowing a bubble in the air. One would no doubt have every 

 thing right a feather in a cap, or a plant in the fore-ground if a thought 

 or a touch would do it. But to labour on for ever, and labour to no pur- 

 pose, is beyond mortal or English patience. Our clumsiness is one cause 

 of our negligence. Depend upon it, people do with readiness what they 



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