tion
of what we have often seen before;" nor by "contrasts," that "rouse the
power of comparison by opposition."

The mind, then, though an active principle, having likewise a
disposition to indolence, (might we have said repose?) limits the
quantity of variety, novelty, and contrast which it will bear;--these
are, therefore, liable to excesses. Hence arise certain rules of art,
that in a composition objects must not be too scattered and divided into
many equal parts, that perplex and fatigue the eye, at a loss where to
find the principal action. Nor must there be that "absolute unity,"
"which, consisting of one group or mass of light only, would be as
defective as an heroic poem without episode, or any collateral incidents
to recreate the mind with that variety which it always requires." Sir
Joshua instances Rembrandt and Poussin, the former as having the defect
of "absolute unity," the latter the defect of the dispersion and
scattering his figures without attention to their grouping. Hence there
must be "the same just moderation observed in regard to ornaments;" for
a certain repose must never be destroyed. Ornament in profusion, whether
of objects or colours, does destroy it; and, "on the other hand, a work
without ornament, instead of simplicity, to which it makes pretensions,
has rather the appearance of poverty." "We may be sure of this truth,
that the most ornamental style requires repose to set off even its
ornaments to advantage." He instances, in the dialogue between Duncan
and Banquo, Shakspeare's purpose of repose--the mention of the martlets'
nests, and that "where those birds most breed and haunt, the air is
delicate;" and the practice of Homer, "who, from the midst of battles
and horrors, relieves and refreshes the mind of the reader, by
introducing some quiet rural image, or picture of familiar domestic
life. The writers of every age and country, where taste has begun to
decline, paint and adorn every object they touch; are always on the
stretch; never deviate or sink a moment from the pompous and the
brilliant."[10]

[10] Could Sir Joshua now be permitted to visit his own
Academy, and our exhibitions in general, he would be startled
at the excess of ornament, in defiance of his rule of repose,
succeeding the slovenliness of his own day. Whatever be the
subject, history, landscape, or familiar life, it superabounds
both in objects and colour. In established academies, the