ons he is to make, or signs
he is to use; and his choice of this or the other fact for
representation, his insistence upon this or the other character in his
subject, as that which to him is impressive, constitutes, when it is
earnest and simple, part of the value of his work. This is the only
inspiration he is capable of, but it is a kind of inspiration still; and
although he may not have the memory or the associative power which would
enable him to compose a subject in the Turnerian manner, he may have
certain _affections_, perfectly expressible in his work, and of which he
ought to allow the influence to be seen.[11]

Sec. 23. And this may especially be permitted in rapid sketching of effects
or scenes which, either in their speedy passing away, or for want of
time, it is impossible to draw faithfully. Generally, if leisure permit,
the detailed drawing of the object will be grander than any "impression
on the mind" of an unimaginative person; but if leisure do not permit, a
rapid sketch, marking forcibly the points that strike him, may often
have considerable interest in its way. The other day I sketched the
towers of the Swiss Fribourg hastily from the Hotel de Zahringen. It was
a misty morning with broken sunshine, and the towers were seen by
flickering light through broken clouds,--dark blue mist filling the
hollow of the valley behind them. I have engraved the sketch on the
opposite page, adding a few details, and exaggerating the exaggerations;
for in drawing from nature, even at speed, I am not in the habit of
exaggerating enough to illustrate what I mean. The next day, on a clear
and calm forenoon, I daguerreotyped the towers, with the result given on
the next plate (+25+ Fig. 2); and this unexaggerated statement, with its
details properly painted, would not only be the more right, but
infinitely the grander of the two. But the first sketch nevertheless
conveys, in some respects, a truer idea of Fribourg than any other, and
has, therefore, a certain use. For instance, the wall going up behind
the main tower is seen in my drawing to bend very distinctly, following
the different slopes of the hill. In the daguerreotype this bend is
hardly perceptible. And yet the notablest thing in the town of Fribourg
is, that all its walls have got flexible spines, and creep up and down
the precipices more in the manner of cats than walls; and there is a
general sense of height, strength and grace, about its belts of tower
and