play
the cold and flavorless part of one who tells a twice-told tale; for it
is in landscape especially, that talent consists in revealing the
painter's own feeling.

The charm of things felt is not produced merely by a grand way of
looking at things: the mind, the soul, occupy but little space; but
where they figure, the canvas is well filled, and the brush betrays
their presence.

I remember, in support of my thesis, that at one of the annual
expositions at the Salon--which then represented the aristocracy of
painting,--there was a tiny picture: a hut half hidden in moss and
flowers. It was almost lost among the portraits of distinguished
personages, the historic incidents, the scenes taken from fashionable
life, and almost drowned in the bloody reflections from the vast display
of battle pictures, which, as was then the custom, monopolized half the
space.

Well! this canvas, a yard wide and not so long, held you captive, took
your thought prisoner, and inevitably impressed itself on your memory.
You longed to ramble over its thick turf; to enter that cottage whose
open windows gave you the feeling that it was a peaceful shelter; you
loved that poor simplicity, which seemed to hide happiness.

Certainly the author of this graceful, touching picture practiced
Delsarte's law, at least from intuition.

Profound emotions are not always due to objective beauty; the beauty of
the work is a thing apart from what it represents. Who does not recall,
in another order of talent, this effect, due to the brush of Bonnat: an
ugly, old Spanish woman is praying in a dark chapel; she prays with
eyes, lips and soul. There was never seen more complete absorption, more
complete forgetfulness of self in humble fervor. It was far more
touching than all the types of sensual beauty, with pink and white and
perfumed skins--with delicate limbs, in disagreeable attitudes!

This is, yet once again, due to the fact that sentiment is stronger than
sensualism; and because the artist's skill, taking the place of beauty
in his subject, becomes genuine aesthetic beauty: so much so that,
looking at old age and ugliness--as represented by Bonnat,--the
spectator is enchanted and applauds--_the success of the work!_

If, however, to perfect execution is allied beauty--not sensual, but
aesthetic,--if it is made manifest from the point of view of form,
feeling and thought, the enthusiasm will be still greater, because all
the aims of art are realiz