an instance
of most absurd and unjustifiable license, as the fault is detected by
the eye in a moment, and there is no occasion nor excuse for it. But I
imagine it to be an instance rather of the harm of imperfect science.
Taking his impression instinctively from nature, Claude usually did what
is right and put his reflection vertically under the sun; probably,
however, he had read in some treatise on optics that every point in this
reflection was in a vertical plane between the sun and spectator; or he
might have noticed walking on the shore that the reflection came
straight from the sun to his feet, and intending to indicate the
position of the spectator, drew in his next picture the reflection
sloping to the supposed point, the error being excusable enough, and
plausible enough to have been lately revived and systematized.[62]

In the picture of Cuyp, No. 83 in the Dulwich Gallery, the post at the
end of the bank casts three or four radiating reflections. This is
visibly neither license nor half science, but pure ignorance. Again, in
the picture attributed to Paul Potter, No. 176, Dulwich Gallery, I
believe most people must feel, the moment they look at it, that there is
something wrong with the water, that it looks odd, and hard, and like
ice or lead; and though they may not be able to tell the reason of the
impression--for when they go near they will find it smooth and lustrous,
and prettily painted--yet they will not be able to shake off the
unpleasant sense of its being like a plate of bad mirror set in a model
landscape among moss, rather than like a pond. The reason is, that while
this water receives clear reflections from the fence and hedge on the
left, and is everywhere smooth and evidently capable of giving true
images, it yet reflects none of the cows.

In the Vandevelde (113) there is not a line of ripple or swell in any
part of the sea; it is absolutely windless, and the near boat casts its
image with great fidelity, which being unprolonged downwards informs us
that the calm is perfect, (Rule V.,) and being unshortened informs us
that we are on a level with the water, or nearly so. (Rule VII.) Yet
underneath the vessel on the right, the gray shade which stands for
reflection breaks off immediately, descending like smoke a little way
below the hull, then leaving the masts and sails entirely unrecorded.
This I imagine to be not ignorance, but unjustifiable license.
Vandevelde evidently desired to give an