mplete picture which has both the general wholeness and effect of
nature, and the inexhaustible perfection of nature's details. And it is
only in the effort to unite these that a painter really improves. By
aiming only at details, he becomes a mechanic; by aiming only at
generals, he becomes a trickster: his fall in both cases is sure. Two
questions the artist has, therefore, always to ask himself,--first, "Is
my whole right?" Secondly, "Can my details be added to? Is there a
single space in the picture where I can crowd in another thought? Is
there a curve in it which I can modulate--a line which I can graduate--a
vacancy I can fill? Is there a single spot which the eye, by any peering
or prying, can fathom or exhaust? If so, my picture is imperfect; and
if, in modulating the line or filling the vacancy, I hurt the general
effect, my art is imperfect."

Sec. 19. _Sketches_ not sufficiently encouraged.

But, on the other hand, though incomplete pictures ought neither to be
produced nor purchased, careful and real _sketches_ ought to be valued
much more highly than they are. Studies in chalk, of landscape, should
form a part of every Exhibition, and a room should be allotted to
drawings and designs of figures in the Academy. We should be heartily
glad to see the room which is now devoted to bad drawings of incorporeal
and imaginary architecture--of things which never were, and which, thank
Heaven! never will be--occupied instead, by careful studies for
historical pictures; not blots of chiaroscuro, but delicate outlines
with the pen or crayon.

Sec. 20. Brilliancy of execution or efforts at invention not to be
tolerated in young artists.

Sec. 21. The duty and after privileges of all students.

From young artists, in landscape, nothing ought to be tolerated but
simple _bona fide imitation_ of nature. They have no business to ape the
execution of masters,--to utter weak and disjointed repetitions of other
men's words, and mimic the gestures of the preacher, without
understanding his meaning or sharing in his emotions. We do not want
their crude ideas of composition, their unformed conceptions of the
Beautiful, their unsystematized experiments upon the Sublime. We scorn
their velocity; for it is without direction: we reject their decision;
for it is without grounds: we contemn their composition; for it is
without materials: we reprobate their choice; for it is without
comparison. Their duty is neither to c