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His method of technical teaching. Simplicity of his philosophy of art. Incidents of his life. Rapid progress under Pettitt's direction. On August 8, 1853, the writer of this book, who had promised and vowed never to visit London again, went there to see the Royal Academy Exhibition, and of course found it closed.
Why should we force ourselves into an affection for them, any more than into a relish for olives or claret, both of which excellent creatures I have the misfortune to dislike? No spectacle annoys me more than the sight of people who ask if it is "right" to take pleasure in this or that work of art. Their loves and hatreds will never be genuine, natural, spontaneous.
"A Kelso convoy!" echoed the inquisitive Antiquary; "and why a Kelso convoy more than any other?" "Dear sir," answered Caxon, "how should I ken? it's just a by-word." "Caxon," answered Oldbuck, "thou art a mere periwig-maker Had I asked Ochiltree the question, he would have had a legend ready made to my hand."
While all these painters produced portraits of men, their work in this field was, as a rule, inferior to the art of France. Lawrence is perhaps an exception; as it would seem that occasionally in the presence of a masculine sitter he rose superior to his manner and, painting with all sincerity, gave his remarkable gifts full play.
To be sure, he does not boast a fulgurant brush, and his line is often stiff and awkward; but he had the fundamentals of decorative art well in hand. After his death thousands of sketches, designs, pencilled memoranda, and cartoons were found, and then there was whistled another tune.
But with writing, on the other hand, he could make no headway. He was too old, and his hand had become too clumsy to acquire this difficult art. In reply to Hermon's anxious question whether his friend needed anything in his present abode, the slave reported that he was at liberty to move about at will, and was not even obliged to share Ledscha's lodgings.
The boy used to help the decorators at the church, and had picked up a little knowledge of art. That is all you want an entrance into the Kingdom of Art, and all these things shall be added unto you. Veronica appreciated the boy because he appreciated art, and great lady that she was, she appreciated him because he appreciated her.
Even in the geniality of the April day, with the brilliant, theatrical waters of the lake in the distance, the scene was gaunt, savage. To the north, a broad dark shadow that stretched out into the lake defined the city. Nearer, the ample wings of the white Art Building seemed to stand guard against the improprieties of civilization.
And the things which had kept their stimulating power distant journeys, the enjoyment of art, the contact with new scenes and strange societies were becoming less and less attainable.
You had made me understand what love really is. My love! My love! Prince Charming! Prince of life! I have grown sick of shadows. You are more to me than all art can ever be. What have I to do with the puppets of a play? When I came on to-night, I could not understand how it was that everything had gone from me. I thought that I was going to be wonderful. I found that I could do nothing.
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