position of a black thing, but if you want the full power of their
gathered light, the black thing may be seriously in our way. Thus, while
contrast displays things, it is unity and sympathy which employ them,
concentrating the power of several into a mass. And, not in art merely,
but in all the affairs of life, the wisdom of man is continually called
upon to reconcile these opposite methods of exhibiting, or using, the
materials in his power. By change he gives them pleasantness, and by
consistency value; by change he is refreshed, and by perseverence
strengthened.

Hence many compositions address themselves to the spectator by aggregate
force of colour or line, more than by contrasts of either; many noble
pictures are painted almost exclusively in various tones of red, or
grey, or gold, so as to be instantly striking by their breadth of flush,
or glow, or tender coldness, these qualities being exhibited only by
slight and subtle use of contrast. Similarly as to form; some
compositions associate massive and rugged forms, others slight and
graceful ones, each with few interruptions by lines of contrary
character. And, in general, such compositions possess higher sublimity
than those which are more mingled in their elements. They tell a special
tale, and summon a definite state of feeling, while the grand
compositions merely please the eye.

This unity or breadth of character generally attaches most to the works
of the greatest men; their separate pictures have all separate aims. We
have not, in each, grey colour set against sombre, and sharp forms
against soft, and loud passages against low; but we have the bright
picture, with its delicate sadness; the sombre picture, with its single
ray of relief; the stern picture, with only one tender group of lines;
the soft and calm picture, with only one rock angle at its flank; and so
on. Hence the variety of their work, as well as its impressiveness. The
principal bearing of this law, however, is on the separate masses or
divisions of a picture: the character of the whole composition may be
broken or various, if we please, but there must certainly be a tendency
to consistent assemblage in its divisions. As an army may act on several
points at once, but can only act effectually by having somewhere formed
and regular masses, and not wholly by skirmishers; so a picture may be
various in its tendencies, but must be somewhere united and coherent in
its masses. Good composers are al