, by the aid of great
original capital and spread of sale, are able more than to compete with
the art of drawing on stone. The two former may be called art done by
MACHINERY. We confess to a prejudice in favor of the honest work of
HAND, in matters of art, and prefer the rough workmanship of the painter
to the smooth copies of his performances which are produced, for the
most part, on the wood-block or the steel-plate.
The theory will possibly be objected to by many of our readers: the
best proof in its favor, we think, is, that the state of art amongst
the people in France and Germany, where publishers are not so wealthy
or enterprising as with us,* and where Lithography is more practised, is
infinitely higher than in England, and the appreciation more correct. As
draughtsmen, the French and German painters are incomparably superior to
our own; and with art, as with any other commodity, the demand will be
found pretty equal to the supply: with us, the general demand is for
neatness, prettiness, and what is called EFFECT in pictures, and
these can be rendered completely, nay, improved, by the engraver's
conventional manner of copying the artist's performances. But to copy
fine expression and fine drawing, the engraver himself must be a fine
artist; and let anybody examine the host of picture-books which appear
every Christmas, and say whether, for the most part, painters or
engravers possess any artistic merit? We boast, nevertheless, of some
of the best engravers and painters in Europe. Here, again, the supply is
accounted for by the demand; our highest class is richer than any other
aristocracy, quite as well instructed, and can judge and pay for fine
pictures and engravings. But these costly productions are for the few,
and not for the many, who have not yet certainly arrived at properly
appreciating fine art.
* These countries are, to be sure, inundated with the
productions of our market, in the shape of Byron Beauties,
reprints from the "Keepsakes," "Books of Beauty," and such
trash; but these are only of late years, and their original
schools of art are still flourishing.
Take the standard "Album" for instance--that unfortunate collection of
deformed Zuleikas and Medoras (from the "Byron Beauties"), the Flowers,
Gems, Souvenirs, Caskets of Loveliness, Beauty, as they way be called;
glaring caricatures of flowers, singly, in groups, in flower-pots, or
with hideous deformed little Cupi
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