view of life or of nature which we may never have seen, but which we are
convinced is the vision of deeper eyes than our own, and is true. The seer
has seen it, and it is only because of the dimness or narrowness or
worldliness of our outlook that we do not perceive it also.

A great painter writes us a letter, tells us of the things he has seen or
heard or felt, gives us news of the world wherein he lives. He expresses
his personality to us, and personality in art is a thing incalculable.
Corot's _Arcadia_ landscape delights us because it is the distilled essence
of the vision, heart, and character of the personality called Corot.
Personality may be expressed by a Rembrandt, abundantly. It may also be
expressed by a Velasquez, negatively.

We must be vigilant, in judging a painter, to distinguish between his own
personality and the personality of those who interpret him to us. The more
we give of ourselves to a painter or an author, the greater is the return
of his appeal and interest. Cleave the wood of your brain and you find him
brimming with communications, raise the stone of your imagination and he is
revealed.

A certain critic, who had devoted his life to the study of Reynolds, while
lecturing upon the achievement of that master, threw upon the screen a
certain large subject-picture, not one of Reynold's happiest efforts, but a
laboured and unattractive design which, we know, gave Reynolds an infinity
of trouble.

So scientific, so interesting was this critic's analysis of the picture, so
absorbing the attributes he read into it, that many of his audience were
persuaded that they were looking upon a Reynolds masterpiece, whereas they
were but hypnotised by the subtleties of the critic's mind working upon