For "no man can be an artist, whatever he may suppose, upon any
other terms."

Yes, an artist is a child who chooses his parents, nor is he limited to
only two. Religion tells all men they have a Father, who is God;
philosophy and tradition repeat, "man has a mother, who is Nature."
These sayings are platitudes; their application is so obvious that it is
now generally forgotten. If God is a Father, it is the soul that chooses
Him; if Nature is a mother, it is the man who chooses to regard her as
such, since to the greater number it is well known she seems but a
stepmother, and a cruel one at that. Elective affinities, chosen
kindred!--"tell me what company you keep, and I will tell you who you
are" (what you are worth). How many artist waifs one sees nowadays! lost
souls, who choose to be nobody's children, and think they can teach
themselves all they need to know.

I think the very striking agreement between artists so totally different
in every respect except eminence, docility and anxiety to further art,
as Duerer and Reynolds, ought to impress our minds very deeply: even
though, as is certainly the case, the way they point out has been very
greatly abandoned of late years, and public institutions in this and
other countries proceed to further art on quite other lines; even though
critics are almost unanimous in knowing better both the end and the way
than the great masters who had not the advantage of a dash of science in
their hydromel to make it sparkle, but instead made it yet richer and
thicker by stirring up with it piety and religion. I think this
"cock-tail and sherry-cobbler" art criticism of to-day is very
deleterious to the digestion, and that the piety and enthusiasm which
Duerer and Reynolds worked into their art were more wholesome, and better
supplied the needs and deficiencies of artistic temperaments.