itanism, which consists in the dread or
disdain of beauty. And in order to treat my subject rightly, I ought
to proceed from the skill of art to the choice of its subject, and
show you how the moral temper of the workman is shown by his seeking
lovely forms and thoughts to express, as well as by the force of his
hand in expression. But I need not now urge this part of the proof on
you, because you are already, I believe, sufficiently conscious of the
truth in this matter, and also I have already said enough of it in my
writings; whereas I have not at all said enough of the infallibleness
of fine technical work as a proof of every other good power. And
indeed it was long before I myself understood the true meaning of the
pride of the greatest men in their mere execution, shown for a
permanent lesson to us, in the stories which, whether true or not,
indicate with absolute accuracy the general conviction of great
artists;--the stories of the contest of Apelles and Protogenes[184] in
a line only, (of which I can promise you, you shall know the meaning
to some purpose in a little while),--the story of the circle of
Giotto,[185] and especially, which you may perhaps not have observed,
the expression of Duerer in his inscription on the drawings sent him by
Raphael. These figures, he says, "Raphael drew and sent to Albert
Duerer in Nurnberg, to show him"--What? Not his invention, nor his
beauty of expression, but "sein Hand zu weisen," "to show him his
_hand_." And you will find, as you examine farther, that all inferior
artists are continually trying to escape from the necessity of sound
work, and either indulging themselves in their delights in subject, or
pluming themselves on their noble motives for attempting what they
cannot perform; (and observe, by the way, that a great deal of what is
mistaken for conscientious motive is nothing but a very pestilent,
because very subtle, condition of vanity); whereas the great men
always understand at once that the first morality of a painter, as of
everybody else, is to know his business; and so earnest are they in
this, that many, whose lives you would think, by the results of their
work, had been passed in strong emotion, have in reality subdued
themselves, though capable of the very strongest passions, into a calm
as absolute as that of a deeply sheltered mountain lake, which
reflects every agitation of the clouds in the sky, and every change of
the shadows on the hills, but AS itse