xhibited, and its defects frankly admitted; no effort being made to
conquer those defects by such skill as may make the material resemble
another. For instance, in the dispute so frequently revived by the
public, touching the relative merits of oil color and water color; I do
not think a great painter would ever consider it a merit in a water
color to have the "force of oil." He would like it to have the peculiar
delicacy, paleness, and transparency belonging specially to its own
material. On the other hand, I think he would not like an oil painting
to have the deadness or paleness of a water color. He would like it to
have the deep shadows, and the rich glow, and crumbling and bossy
touches which are alone attainable in oil color. And if he painted in
fresco, he would neither aim at the transparency of water color, nor the
richness of oil; but at luminous bloom of surface, and dignity of
clearly visible form. I do not think that this principle would be
disputed by artists of great power at any time, or in any country;
though, if by mischance they had been compelled to work in one material,
while desiring the qualities only attainable in another, they might
strive, and meritoriously strive, for those better results, with what
they had under their hand. The change of manner in William Hunt's work,
in the later part of his life, was an example of this. As his art became
more developed, he perceived in his subjects qualities which it was
impossible to express in a transparent medium; and employed opaque white
to draw with, when the finer forms of relieved light could not be
otherwise followed. It was out of his power to do more than this, since
in later life any attempt to learn the manipulation of oil color would
have been unadvisable; and he obtained results of singular beauty;
though their preciousness and completion would never, in a well-founded
school of Art, have been trusted to the frail substance of water color.
87. But although I do not suppose that the abstract principle of doing
with each material what it is best fitted to do, would be, in terms,
anywhere denied; the practical question is always, not what should be
done with this, or that, if everything were in our power; but what can
be, or ought to be, accomplished with the means at our disposal, and in
the circumstances under which we must necessarily work. Thus, in the
question immediately before us, of the proper use of the black line--it
is easy to establ
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