Art. IV. The Practice of Drawing and Painting Landscape from Nature, in Water Colours. With observations on the Study of Nature, and various other Matters relative to the Arts. By Francis Nicholson. Second Edition. 4to. pp. 118. London, 1823. THAT

we have not given an earlier attention to this useful and gratifying essay, is owing to its having very recently fallen into our hands. We are, however, glad that it has not quite escaped us, since, though it may not be altogether such as the necessities of students require, and the skill of the Writer might have enabled him to supply, it approximates more nearly to our notions of what an elementary treatise ought to be, than any other that we have yet seen. It is chiefly defective in distinctness and compression; and this is the more to be lamented, since the exclusion of a little very unnecessary prosing would have gone far to effect the latter, and a more correct view of the nature of his task would have assisted the Writer in giving clearness and precision to his instructions. In the composition of such works as the present, there are two considerations which require to be kept especially in view. The first relates to the different circumstances of the teacher and the taught; the second, to the difference between written and personal instruction. Whoever undertakes the communication of knowledge, should place himself in the situation of the learner, and, without wasting a thought on the rounding of periods or the maintenance of systematic accuracy, should lead him patiently and empirically-if we may thus apply the termfrom step to step, until he has fairly mastered the alphabet and the accidence; it will then be time enough to handle the syntax. There is nothing in which masters are so apt to fail, as in keeping sight of the distinction between perfection and power. They will describe, fairly enough, the manner in which an effect ought to be produced, without once referring to the way in which a scholar may be best able to produce it. In what light, were I altogether ignorant of the matter, would this stage in the processes of Art present itself to my eye? and in what terms can I best convey the true state of the difficulty, and most distinctly describe the methods of surmounting it?-are the questions which every writer on the rudiments of design ought to ask himself at every moment; and he must here submit to be instructed by those whom he is instructing, since they are better judges than himself of their own entanglements. In fact, the less learning and the more practical explanation, the greater will be the advancement of the tyro. The one he can follow with his eye, and imitate with his hand: the other belongs to an advanced stage of ac

quisition, and is utterly wasted on those who are yet struggling with rudiments.

Again, in works like the present, too much attention cannot be paid to the obvious but unregarded distinction between written and oral instruction. In the former, the lesson may be given, and it may be illustrated by its appropriate diagram; but the one may not be rightly adjusted to the other, and perhaps neither of them may prove adequate to the exigencies of the learner. The failure is irretrievable, since the error has passed beyond the possibility of correction, and there is no medium of detailed explanation at hand. In personal direction, a slight misconception is perfectly inconsequential; the remedy is immediate. A word, a movement of the finger, a touch with the pencil can set all right in an instant. Hence, the necessity for clear and just progression and for distinct illustration, in a treatise such as this before us, is far greater than in direct communication. All exhibition, all curvetting and caracoling are miserably out of place here. We do not ask Mr. Nicholson about Cramer and Haydn, Pliny and Apelles, Vandyke and Denner, Milton and Lord Carlisle, Handel and the Royal Academy. We might feel gratified by such references in parlour-conversation ; but here, we want instruction in pot-hooks and hangers, join-hand and round-text: when we have mastered these, it will be time enough to inquire about ornamental flourishes and the mysteries of calligraphy.

In these points, then, we think Mr. Nicholson to have fallen short of the perfection which he might easily have attained. He is a sound artist and a strong-minded, wellinformed man. His style, although somewhat mechanical and routiniére, is substantial and effective, as well as singularly free from the trickery and affectation which are too prevalent in the present day; and we know of no instructor from whom we would more readily receive the principles of line and colour. But he has not, as we think, kept sufficiently in view the very important distinctions to which we have referred; and though, even in its present state, his work will be highly advantageous, its utility might have been much increased by greater simplicity and more enlarged detail. There is so much bad teaching afloat in all parts of the kingdom,-such miserable misconception of the true character and object of painting is so extensively diffused, that, while we recommend the volume, in its present state, as a powerful corrective, we hope to see it, in a future edition, made the adequate and indispensable manual of all drawing-masters from the third-rate downwards, and of all pupils who are desirous to ascertain the true quality of the instructions they are receiving.

The first part professes to give a slight and general view of the nature of perspective; and this appears to us the worst executed portion of the book. There should have been more

or less; either half-a-dozen simple practical formula clearly laid down, or something of a connected system. The diagrams, too, are confused by an injudicious economy of space: they should, by all means, have been completely detached from each other. Still, there is much that is important even here, and the incidental observations, as well as the occasional suggestions in alleviation of difficulties, are full of instruction.

The section on Light and Shadow is extremely valuable, and the examples are judiciously selected.

There must,' observes Mr. N., be a principal light in some part of the picture, to which every other must be subordinate, either in brightness or in quantity; this principal mass may be in the sky, or on the objects in the landscape, it being sufficient that it is principal. If the design will admit, it should be thrown on such objects as will receive it so as to produce a pleasing form of the mass. All geometrical shapes are to be avoided. If the principal light be in the sky, the various shapes and combinations of the clouds being subject to the discretion of the artist, he has the opportunity of forming it there to the best of his judgement. The part of the picture where this and the subordinate lights can be placed with the best effect, must depend in some measure on the arrangement and combination of the various objects. It is desirable to have it rather towards the middle than the extremities, but this, not being always practicable, must depend on such circumstances as the presence of objects, ground, &c. capable of receiving it; and as great liberty may be taken in the composition of the fore-ground, objects may be, and often are, introduced there for the purpose of receiving it and increasing the breadth.

The secondary lights should not be fewer than two; and if they are nearly equal in brightness to the principal mass, but inferior in magnitude, the harmony and effect will be better than when they are below it in both respects; in that case, the principal light will appear as a spot, more or less according to the degree of its predominance. Lesser lights may be admitted in various parts of the picture, but they ought to be placed so as not to injure the effect of the principal light, by catching the eye and drawing the attention of the spectator from it; neither should they be allowed to cut or divide the principal breadths of shadow.

The disposition of shadow is governed by the same general rule; it ought to have, in like manner, its principal breadths, which should not be broken or disturbed by the admission of portions of light to separate them into smaller parts. In nature, the forms of objects are distinctly made out, principally in the lights, which are supported by the shadow floating in breadth, but with less decided form.

This is sound and sensible instruction; though we question the expediency of admitting, as a general practice, two secondary lights of equal brilliancy with the primary and characteristic mass. We are aware that such is the rule; but we prefer the principle of gradation and relief, unbroken by scattered brightness. We cannot see but that the law which prevails in the pictures of Correggio, strong lights melting away by demi-tints into strong shadows, is as applicable to landscape as to figure. In portrait-painting, we have often been annoyed beyond measure by the regular introduction of some staring patch of raw light in the lower part of the picture, for the purpose of counterbalancing the effect of the head. A silver ink-stand with full-plumed pen, a white pocket handkerchief, or white lining to the dress, is often most harshly contrasted with dark drapery, in villanous aping of the fine effects of Titian, who has apparently adopted the same plan in some of his portraits; that for instance of Aretin, so admirably rendered by the expressive graver of Van Dalen; and in the fine picture of a Venetian nobleman with his dog and falcon. Let us have the glow of Titian's colouring diffused over the whole surface, communicating its deep and rich harmony to every part, instead of a coarse imitation of particular portions, without reference to the general feeling and effect.

We are happy to find Mr. Nicholson lending the sanction of his knowledge and practical experience to our often repeated recommendation, that the principles of light and shade-we would add, a fortiori, those of composition-should be studied in the prints, which are in every one's hands, from the old masters. The landscapes of Rubens are full of the finest instruction; and we would recommend the thorough analysis and repeated transcription of the noble scenery of Nicholas Poussin, even in preference to that of Gaspar. The lover of beautiful nature will find it to perfection in the works of Claude. He who is in search of rich and romantic combinations needs o no further than Gaspar Poussin. They whose taste leads them to prefer the wild and savage, may take Salvador as their master. But those who can feel the pervading influence of classic grandeur and intellectual power, combined with a close observance even of the minutiae of nature, will give their days to the study of the elder Poussin. No artist ever peopled a landscape like that great painter: the adaptation of figure to scenery is complete throughout. Where the latter is merely accessary, it is made so happily subordinate as to add to the interest of the main subject, without distracting the eye. But when it takes the lead and occupies its allotted space with its fine contrasts, harmonies, and gradations, its inhabitants are

not thrown in, as is too commonly the case, without a meaning or an object, excepting such as may relate to colour and effect; they have a specific business on the spot they are identified with the scene; and you cannot separate either from the other without positive mutilation. It may not be unacceptable to our readers, if we illustrate these statements by a specific reference to three or four of the large prints engraved from this master by Etienne Baudet. The first that occurs is a fine Italian view the original, if we recollect rightly, is at Dulwich. A chaussée, probably part of the Appian way, runs up in perspective, through the centre of the picture, with a slight inclination to the left, forming the limit of a lagoon on the right, and leading to a town and fortress in the distance. The foreground is formed by ruins of simple but impressive character, which, aided by the umbrageous foliage of the trees, with thwart gleams of glowing sunshine, gives a fine effect of light and shade. Three figures occupy this part of the picture; a man in an attitude admirably expressive of repose after fatigue, seated on the ground, leans back against a block of stone, on which lie a piece of drapery and a basket of fruit, evidently designed for a pastoral banquet; a female sits near him. These are towards the right. On the opposite side, their companion draws water in a pitcher from a deep stone reservoir, communicating with its fount, or discharging its superfluous water through a dark arch. In the middle ground are trees, water, and a church, with its campanile. The remote distance is closed by mountains and the sea. The keeping of this subject is admirable. The figures belong to the scene; the very materials of their rustic repast have been obtained from a tree of beautiful foliage, loaded with fruit, that sets off in strong sunlight against the dark masonry which shades the cool, dark spring that sleeps at its base. Bushes and broken ground are advantageously interspersed.-The second print presents a wilder scene; the Sicilian haunts of Polypheme, who seems here to assume his milder character, and rather to act as the guardian of the tranquil region, than to give terror to its inhabitants. In the immediate front is a shallow spring, lying like a lucid mirror in its gravelly basin, fringed with weeds and low foliage. Three nymphs of the fount are grouped by its side, in attitudes of alarm at the discovery of two satyrs lurking amid the bushes, close at hand. A river-god reclining on his urn is not far off. The middle ground is adorned with various groupes of trees, and enlivened by peasants engaged in various departments of rustic labour. This scene is bounded by precipitous rocks, on the crest of one of which the gigantic Cyclops reclines, playing on his unequal reeds.' This figure has been objected to; but VOL. XXV. N.S. 2 F