, dry, a staring, and
a vulgar appearance, for want of neutralizing their qualities, and
bringing the parts more in _union_ with each other. This overwrought
manner is principally the cause of that common look so identified with
the modern French school, the effect of too much relief.

On the other hand, nothing but flatness and _insipidity_ is the result
of too softly _blending_ and uniting the light with the shadow, and the
parts with one another, without that distinction and solidity
constituting the arrangement that should bring the near and the remote
together, in the treatment of the intermediate relations.

Light should be so skilfully woven into the shadow, as not to prejudice,
but _assist_ its depth by its intrusion; this is of most essential
consequence.

It is not necessary that the light should come in at one side of the
picture, nor pass out at the other, as has been asserted. It is,
perhaps, better to attach ourselves to no particular theory: few
theorists are good painters; their works, in general, bear a
contradictory proportion to the opinions set forth in their
speculations.

Sketching light and shade from nature (with a single colour, or a
stump), teaches us to profit by every circumstance, natural or
accidental. And these sketches, studied at home, teach us, in turn, at
once to _compose_, and to extend the sphere of our observation;--it
carries us to the doctrine of probable possibilities; and invests the
meanest subject with attraction; the most infinite variety becomes
simplicity upon these terms.

The light and shade of a picture should never bear the _same_
proportions; it should, in all instances, differ materially in quantity;
a repetition of forms should always bear a different proportion in
size, the one having a decided superiority over the other, or, the
inevitable consequences will be, confusion.

Unconnected lights and shadows, that are too much defined, will have a
_bald_, a chequered, or draught-board appearance.

In sketching from nature, I usually commence by rubbing in the _effect
first_, and adding the details, or features of the scene, _afterwards_;
mostly beginning with the centre, or else the point of sight, and
working outwards, and upwards, and downwards, to the sides of the
picture. But this can only come of extensive practice, or, at least, a
power of grasping the _whole_ at once.

I have said that the first and principal part of art is Composition, or
placing thin