e French aesthetic movement; and Greuze being only a
pseudo-romanticist, and his work a variant of, rather than reactionary
from, the artificiality of his day. Before painting could "return to
nature," before the idea and inspiration of true romanticism could be
born, a reaction in the direction of severity after the artificial yet
irresponsible riot of the Louis Quinze painters was naturally and
logically inevitable. Painting was modified in the same measure with
every other expression in the general _recueillement_ that followed the
extravagance in all social and intellectual fields of the Louis Quinze
epoch. But in becoming more chaste it did not become less classical.
Indeed, so far as severity is a trait of classicality--and it is only an
associated not an essential trait of it--painting became more classical.
It threw off its extravagances without swerving from the artificial
character of its inspiration. Art in general seemed content with
substituting the straight line for the curve--a change from Louis Quinze
to Louis Seize that is very familiar even to persons who note the
transitions between the two epochs only in the respective furniture of
each; a Louis Quinze chair or mirror, for example, having a flowing
outline, whereas a Louis Seize equivalent is more rigid and rectilinear.

David is artificial, it is to be pointed out, only in his _ensemble_. In
detail he is real enough. And he always has an _ensemble_. His
compositions, as compositions, are admirable. They make a total
impression, and with a vigor and vividness that belong to few
constructed pictures. The canvas is always penetrated with
David--illustrates as a whole, and with completeness and comparative
flawlessness, his point of view, his conception of the subject. This, of
course, is the academic point of view, the academic conception. But, as
I say, his detail is surprisingly truthful and studied. His
picture--which is always nevertheless a picture--is as inconceivable, as
traditional in its inspiration, as factitious as you like; his figures
are always sapiently and often happily exact. His portraits are
absolutely vital characterizations. And in general his sculptural sense,
his self-control, his perfect power of expressing what he deemed worth
expressing, are really what are noteworthy in his pictures, far more
than their monotonous coloration and the coldness and unreality of the
pictures themselves, considered as moving, real, or significant