There are many points of view from which a portrait can be drawn—­I mean, mental points of view.  And, as in a biography, the value of the work will depend on the insight and distinction of the author or artist.  The valet of a great man might write a biography of his master that could be quite true to his point of view; but, assuming him to be an average valet, it would not be a great work.  I believe the gardener of Darwin when asked how his master was, said, “Not at all well.  You see, he moons about all day.  I’ve seen him staring at a flower for five or ten minutes at a time.  Now, if he had some work to do, he would be much better.”  A really great biography cannot be written except by a man who can comprehend his subject and take a wide view of his position among men, sorting what is trivial from what is essential, what is common to all men from what is particular to the subject of his work.  And it is very much the same in portraiture.  It is only the painter who possesses the intuitive faculty for seizing on the significant things in the form expression of his subject, of disentangling what is trivial from what is important; and who can convey this forcibly to the beholder on his canvas, more forcibly than a casual sight of the real person could do—­it is only this painter who can hope to paint a really fine portrait.

It is true, the honest and sincere expression of any painter will be of some interest, just as the biography written by Darwin’s gardener might be; but there is a vast difference between this point of view and that of the man who thoroughly comprehends his subject.

Not that it is necessary for the artist to grasp the mind of his sitter, although that is no disadvantage.  But this is not his point of view, his business is with the effect of this inner man on his outward appearance.  And it is necessary for him to have that intuitive power that seizes instinctively on those variations of form that are expressive of this inner man.  The habitual cast of thought in any individual affects the shape and moulds the form of the features, and, to the discerning, the head is expressive of the person; both the bigger and the smaller person, both the larger and the petty characteristics everybody possesses.  And the fine portrait will express the larger and subordinate the petty individualities, will give you what is of value, and subordinate what is trivial in a person’s appearance.

The pose of the head is a characteristic feature about people that is not always given enough attention in portraits.  The habitual cast of thought affects its carriage to a very large degree.  The two extreme types of what we mean are the strongly emotional man who carries his head high, drinking in impressions as he goes through the world; and the man of deep thought who carries his head bent forward, his back bent in sympathy with it.  Everybody has some characteristic action in the way that should be looked out for and that is usually absent when a sitter first appears before a painter on the studio throne.  A little diplomacy and conversational humouring is necessary to produce that unconsciousness that will betray the man in his appearance.