GENESIS OF THE ‘GRAMMAR’

At dinner one day with the dignitaries of one of the largest cities of France, conversation turned upon the arts.  All of the guests spoke of them, and well; but each intrenched himself behind his own personal views, in virtue of the adage “One cannot argue about tastes.”  I protested in vain against this false principle, saying that it was inadmissible, and that the classic Brillat-Savarin would have been shocked at such blasphemy.  Even his name had no weight, and the guests separated gayly, after uttering heresies that made you shiver.  Among the eminent men present there was one, however, who seemed somewhat mortified that he had not the most elementary idea of art; and he asked me if there was not some book in which its principles were presented in a clear and brief form.  I replied that no such book existed, and that on leaving college I should have been only too happy to find such a work; and thereupon determined to write one.

MORAL INFLUENCE OF ART

From ‘Grammar of Painting and Engraving’

Painting purifies people by its mute eloquence.  The philosopher writes his thoughts for those who can think and read.  The painter shows his thought to all who have eyes to see.  That hidden and naked virgin, Truth, the artist finds without seeking.  He throws a veil over her, encourages her to please, proves to her that she is beautiful, and when he has reproduced her image he makes us take her, and takes her himself, for Beauty.

In communicating to us what has been seen and felt by others, the painter gives new strength and compass to the soul.  Who can say of how many apparently fugitive impressions a man’s morality is composed, and upon what depends the gentleness of his manners, the correctness of his habits, the elevation of his thoughts?  If the painter represents acts of cruelty or injustice, he inspires us with horror.  The ‘Unhappy Family’ of Proudhon moves the fibres of charity better than the homilies of a preacher....  Examples of the sublime are rare in painting, as the painter is compelled to imprison every idea in a form.  It may happen, nevertheless, that moved by thoughts to which he has given no form, the artist strikes the soul as a thunderbolt would the ear.  It is then by virtue of the thought perceived, but not formulated, that the picture becomes sublime.

POUSSIN’S ‘SHEPHERDS OF ARCADIA’

From ‘Grammar of Painting and Engraving’