or audible modes; and starting from this point he
approached the question of the true relation of literature
to painting, always keeping in view the central motive
of his creed, Credo in unam artem multipartitam, indivisibilem,
and dwelling on resemblances rather than differences.
The result at which he ultimately arrived was this:
the Impressionists, with their frank artistic acceptance
of form and colour as things absolutely satisfying
in themselves, have produced very beautiful work,
but painting has something more to give us than the
mere visible aspect of things. The lofty spiritual
visions of William Blake, and the marvellous romance
of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, can find their perfect
expression in painting; every mood has its colour
and every dream has its form. The chief quality
of Mr. Image’s lecture was its absolute fairness,
but this was, to a certain portion of the audience,
its chief defect. ‘Sweet reasonableness,’
said one, ’is always admirable in a spectator,
but from a leader we want something more.’
’It is only an auctioneer who should admire
all schools of art,’ said another; while a third
sighed over what he called ’the fatal sterility
of the judicial mind,’ and expressed a perfectly
groundless fear that the Century Guild was becoming
rational. For, with a courtesy and a generosity
that we strongly recommend to other lecturers, Mr.
Image provided refreshments for his audience after
his address was over, and it was extremely interesting
to listen to the various opinions expressed by the
great Five-o’clock-tea School of Criticism which
was largely represented. For our own part, we
found Mr. Image’s lecture extremely suggestive.
It was sometimes difficult to understand in what
exact sense he was using the word ‘literary,’
and we do not think that a course of drawing from
the plaster cast of the Dying Gaul would in the slightest
degree improve the ordinary art critic. The
true unity of the arts is to be found, not in any resemblance
of one art to another, but in the fact that to the
really artistic nature all the arts have the same
message and speak the same language though with different
tongues. No amount of daubing on a cellar wall
will make a man understand the mystery of Michael
Angelo’s Sybils, nor is it necessary to write
a blank verse drama before one can appreciate the beauty
of Hamlet. It is essential that an art critic
should have a nature receptive of beautiful impressions,
and sufficient intuition to recognise style when he
meets with it, and truth when it is shown to him; but,
if he does not possess these qualities, a reckless
career of water-colour painting will not give them
to him, for, if from the incompetent critic all things
be hidden, to the bad painter nothing shall be revealed.
ART AT WILLIS’S ROOMS
(Sunday Times, December 25, 1887.)