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APHORISMS O 
 
 DRAWING. 
 
 xdfa*- 
 
 BY THE EEV. S. C. MALAN, M.A. 
 
 YICAR OF BROADWINDSOR, DORSET. 
 
 -0MWERS1TV J 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, AND ROBERTS. 
 1856. 
 
Hcdzo 
 
 M3 
 
DEDICATED TO 
 
 J. D. HARDING, ESQ. 
 
 IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OP HIS KIND 
 
 ADVICEy AND IN ADMIRATION 
 
 FOR HIS TALENT. 
 
 1 07294 
 
APHORISMS ON DRAWING. 
 
 OUGHT, perhaps, first of all, 
 to apologize for the pompous title 
 of this little book ; for it sounds 
 very self-sufficient and conceited. 
 Nothing, however, is further from 
 jj my thoughts, and, I hope, also 
 from my style. For I feel no sympathy with certain 
 voluminous theorists, who make rules of their own in 
 drawing, and lay them down as a law for others. 
 
 But most of those who have had experience in 
 drawing, from the first outline by the girl of Corinth, 
 to the present time of " Drawing made easy," have 
 cultivated the art more or less in a way of their own ; 
 and some fancy they may know something which their 
 neighbour does not. That, indeed, is often a mis- 
 take ; and it may be so in this case. It is, however, 
 possible that a feAV hints in general drawing, the 
 result of observation and of self-taught experience 
 only, condensed in short sentences easily remembered, 
 
APHORISMS 
 
 may prove acceptable to some of the many lovers of 
 Nature and of Art. 
 
 The following remarks, then, are not intended for 
 artists who make drawing the business of their life, 
 and to whom all of us learners are greatly indebted. I 
 can, of course, teach them nothing. On the contrary, 
 I have to thank one of them, Mr. J. D. Harding, 
 for his good advice, kindly and liberally given. 
 Neither will I compete with those who profess to 
 teach drawing in six, eight, or, may be, twelve lessons. 
 That secret is their own. But I suppose my readers 
 to be already well acquainted with the theory of 
 light and shade, with colour, and with the rudiments 
 of perspective. And I address myself only to those 
 among them who, situated as I am, look upon draw- 
 ing as a mere accomplishment, and who in their at- 
 tempts to cultivate it, have to borrow from their own 
 resources, and to learn their art from Nature alone. 
 
 By way of introducing the subject, then, I would 
 ask a very plain question, — What is Drawing ? for 
 it may be that some of those who take, or who are 
 made to take, the pencil or the brush in hand, have 
 not thought of this before they began. 
 
 Drawing is, generally speaking, the expression on 
 paper, whether in pencil or in colours, of the im- 
 pression which Nature makes upon the mind of the 
 artist. Hence we may say that 
 
ON DRAWING. 
 
 I. 
 
 Drawing is human art in imitation of 
 Nature. 
 
 By Nature I mean, here, God's works and man's, 
 although they widely differ from each other. 
 Those are always perfect ; these, on the contrary, 
 more or less defective. For instance, we may 
 see a beautiful effect of light, which is God's 
 work, upon a building worthless in every line of 
 design, which is man's art. 
 
 Since, however, we are often called to draw 
 natural objects of man's making, such as build- 
 ings, furniture, &c. — we may consider drawing in 
 a twofold aspect ; as positive or real, and as only 
 relative. 
 
 II. 
 
 Real Drawing is an image of God's 
 works ; 
 
 from which model real drawing cannot depart. 
 
 For this model is the only true pattern of all pure 
 
 and perfect taste, and all genuine art comes from 
 
 it only. 
 
 In this respect drawing differs very materially 
 
 from its sister art, music. For in music we have, 
 
APHORISMS 
 
 in fact, no perfect pattern to follow ; nothing like 
 Nature in drawing. True, there are rules of 
 melody and laws of harmony which cannot be 
 broken, without at the same time destroying the 
 very character of music, which depends on them. 
 But still, the finest model in music is but a human 
 production, and therefore not perfect. So that 
 unless we could hear the self-taught choirs of 
 heavenly voices singing the praises of God in per- 
 fect harmony and with faultless melodies, — how- 
 ever great the musical genius, however sublime 
 the conception, however deep and soul-stirring 
 the harmony of a composer be, it is nevertheless 
 relative to other human productions of the same 
 kind, and not itself an imitation of a heavenly, 
 that is, of a perfect model. On the contrary, one 
 of the charms of music consists in its creative 
 power over its own outline, melody. But both 
 drawing and music come from the soul and return 
 thither. Music draws melody and paints har- 
 mony with notes, as painting does with pencil 
 and colours. And yet music is more free than 
 drawing. 
 
 For as regards drawing, we have a model from 
 which we dare not part, that is, Nature; it is 
 perfect ; it is God's own workmanship ; we cannot 
 exceed, nav, we never can even reach it. Un- 
 
ON DRAWING. 
 
 fortunately, then, for human conceit, we may 
 always compare our imitation with the original, 
 which, from its very nature and character, is itself 
 our Rule ; and thus we have ample opportunity 
 of being self-convinced, and of course corrected, 
 if open to correction. Hence, too, in proportion 
 as our feeling of the beauties of Nature is greater, 
 are we less satisfied with our own drawing in 
 imitation of them. 
 
 This feeling of disappointment, however, seldom, 
 if ever, occurs in 
 
 III. 
 Relative Drawing ; 
 
 for this is an imitation of man's work, and what 
 one man did, another man may have a chance of 
 accomplishing as well. 
 
 But, even in this secondary kind of drawing, 
 conventional and artistic though it be, we find 
 that the nearer it comes to the character of Nature, 
 the better it is. By character of Nature I mean 
 the fact that 
 
 IV. 
 
 In Nature everything has a meaning ; 
 
 that is, every object is exactly adapted to the place 
 it occupies, and to the purpose for which it was 
 made. In a tree, for instance, there is not a 
 
APHORISMS 
 
 branch, not a twig, not a leaf out of place : for 
 they are, every one of them, where they should 
 be, for some wise purpose. A feature, then, in 
 the beauty of each is its evident purpose, which 
 tends to one point — harmony. 
 
 Thus, then, those men who in their mode of 
 life were most conversant with Nature, have pro- 
 duced the best outlines, because those outlines 
 were done with a purpose, and therefore they 
 have a meaning. Take, for instance, the com- 
 monest object of domestic life, a water-jug, and 
 compare the same article made by a Greek or an 
 Etruscan potter, may be, three thousand years 
 ago, with another, the effort of modern genius. 
 The former is beautiful in its outline ; the latter, 
 most likely, grotesque. The one has a meaning, 
 because its shape harmonizes with its use; the 
 other, on the contrary, is meaningless, for it does 
 not answer its purpose. 
 
 The object of the Greek or of the Etruscan 
 potter was to enable a person who bought his 
 jug to pour water out of it as easily as possible, 
 and, of course, with one hand only. We find, ac- 
 cordingly, in the best of those ancient models, 
 that their shape is calculated to hold a liquid in 
 strict accordance with the laws of gravity, — a high 
 bowl on a narrow base, with the handle so made 
 
ON DRA WING. 
 
 as to enable one to poise the jug by shifting the 
 hand, and with it the centre of gravity, accord- 
 ing to the greater or less quantity of liquid con- 
 tained in the jug. We, therefore, are left to 
 admire the beautiful outline, full of meaning, be- 
 cause full of purpose, of those antique objects of 
 common art, and to regret that those designs are 
 not perpetuated for our own use. 
 
 Such points, however, do not seem to have oc- 
 curred to many artistic potters of the present day, 
 who seem to think the sole merit of their work 
 lies in the painting, and by no means in the object 
 for which their articles are made. Provided the 
 flowers painted on the outside be sufficiently 
 gaudy to attract notice, it little matters about the 
 rest. The jug may be, as it often is, very wide 
 at the base, so as to throw the whole weight of 
 the liquid as low as possible ; and the handle also, 
 may be at the same time hardly large enough to 
 admit a small hand ; and it may be placed even 
 higher than the lip of the jug, thereby rendering 
 the process of pouring water impossible with one 
 hand and difficult with two. Then of course the 
 result is, that as there is no meaning, because 
 there is no real purpose, in the shape of that jug, 
 the outline of it is out of proportion, out of rule, 
 and therefore it is vicious. 
 
APHORISMS 
 
 I have chosen such a familiar example of relative 
 art because it will occur to everybody, and will 
 show how little modern taste has improved upon 
 the chaste outline of ancient work. This painful 
 fact was never more evidently set forth than in 
 the gorgeous display of modern art at the Exhi- 
 bition of 1851. There, amid a profusion of so- 
 called ornament, there was a dearth of really good 
 outline, — of adaptation of shape to the purpose 
 for which the articles were made. 
 
 But, whether real or relative, Drawing pre- 
 supposes three things : 
 
 A correct eye, — to convey the impression 
 of Nature : 
 
 A cultivated mind, — to form that impres- 
 sion; and 
 
 A clever hand, — to transmit that impression 
 to others. 
 
 There can be no drawing without those three 
 things. 
 
 V. 
 
 A correct eye, 
 
 implies not only a good organ of sight, but also 
 that faculty of the mind by which we judge 
 through the eye of distance, of perspective, and 
 of form. The organ of colour is distinct from 
 that. 
 
ON DRAWING. 
 
 VI. 
 
 A cultivated mind, 
 
 implies the moral and the intellectual faculties 
 which enable us to feel the relative bearing of 
 the artistic soul of Nature — light and shade — 
 upon the form or outline thereof; and which, 
 therefore, enable us to form a correct estimate of 
 their combined effect. 
 
 It clearly results from this, that since we have 
 in Nature a perfect model to follow, our imitation 
 of it must be either right or wrong. And in pro- 
 portion as we depart from Nature to follow a 
 design of our own, do we also degenerate from 
 real to relative art. 
 
 That is clearly proved by the style, as it is 
 called, of Medieval (or even of Pre-Raphaelite) 
 artists. They did, and do, draw, regardless of 
 Truth, after a fashion of their own, and not after 
 Nature. Their wry-headed figures in buckram, 
 their glaring colours, their utter carelessness about 
 light and shade, their trees like brooms or cabbage- 
 tops, their hills like sugar-loaves, their flowers 
 stuck here and there in the ground, and their 
 houses out of perspective, — may possibly, in their 
 opinion, suit the kind of illustration to which they 
 are often consecrated, but that is not drawing. 
 
10 APHORISMS 
 
 And it seems a great pity that the idea of devo- 
 tion, which of right belongs to drawing, — since 
 drawing is an image of God's fairest works, — 
 should be forced* into an incongruous alliance 
 with such abnormal objects as half the illustra- 
 tions intended to edify and to teach. For such 
 designs are not Nature ; far from it. They are 
 the offspring of a crude and artificial taste, and 
 not of a genuine feeling or love for the beautiful. 
 And it really seems a paradox, that in devotional 
 books, intended to lead and to raise the soul to 
 God, men should aim at doing it through unna- 
 tural and distorted images of His own perfect 
 works. 
 
 In addition to a cultivated mind, capable of 
 appreciating rightly the soul and spirit of True 
 Nature, drawing requires also 
 
 VII. 
 
 A clever hand ; 
 
 a hand naturally so formed as to handle the pencil 
 or the brush easily and freely ; so as to let it obey, 
 as it were instinctively, the impulse of the mind, 
 acted upon through the eye. 
 
 Strange to say, the one of those three things 
 that can best be dispensed with, is perfect sight. 
 
ON DRAWING. 11 
 
 The mind and the hand will supply whatever 
 deficiency of sight we may suffer from, provided 
 what we have of it left be correct. One of the 
 first landscape painters in the world at the present 
 time, Mr. A. Calame, lost one eye when quite 
 young; Chantrey had only one eye; and there 
 are others who share also with those artists the 
 same infirmity. 
 
 On the other hand, the most indispensable of 
 those three requisites is the mind. If it exist in 
 a decided degree, it will show itself somehow. 
 For if the hand be naturally stiff or clumsy, it 
 will yet obey the mind to a great extent, and 
 under a formal outline we shall discover here and 
 there touches of life and sparks of mind. But 
 a clever hand and a correct eye alone, without 
 mind, will only make a Chinese copyist; they 
 will only produce a cold, lifeless, and uninterest- 
 ing, because unreal, effort of labour, and no draw- 
 ing. It is the mind infused into the artist's touch 
 that gives to a drawing its superiority over a 
 photograph of all objects, except, perhaps, of de- 
 tails in architecture. 
 
 Hence it is evident — 
 
 1. That no one can ever learn drawing who 
 is not naturally qualified for it ; since draw- 
 ing requires a combination of gifts which 
 
12 APHORISMS 
 
 can only be improved, but never acquired 
 by practice. And — 
 2. That since drawing results from a combi- 
 nation of moral, of intellectual, and of me- 
 chanical acts, it requires that these should 
 be full grown and fully developed, in order 
 that drawing may possess its full and perfect 
 character. This character, or style, is partly 
 the result of training ; but training implies 
 aptitude ; and, in drawing, as in most other 
 things, aptitude is talent. Talent, which, 
 however, only follows in the footsteps of 
 others, is not common; but Genius, which 
 makes rules and a way for itself, is rarer 
 still. 
 Where talent, or aptitude, exists, it will show 
 itself early; then teaching and training follow 
 each other with success ; not else. For, learning 
 to draw is 
 
 VIII. 
 
 To develope natural talent by teaching 
 and by practice. 
 
 As to teaching, since drawing requires a correct 
 eye, a cultivated mind, and a clever and steady 
 hand, it is of no great use to teach children to 
 
ON DRAWING. 13 
 
 draw before the age of fifteen or sixteen. After 
 that age, a talented person will make more pro- 
 gress in six months, than before it, in perhaps as 
 many years. At the age of twelve or thirteen, 
 however, if the child shews decided aptitude for 
 drawing, he might, with advantage, learn to draw 
 large heads in chalk. That is the only style of 
 drawing that will give a firm touch and form a 
 flexible hand; and two or three years at least 
 of this training should be considered as an indis- 
 pensable foundation, in learning to draw, what- 
 ever the superstructure may be, whether flowers, 
 figures, landscapes, or even architecture. 
 
 It trains the eye, and forms the hand better 
 than any other style. It lays a ground- work that 
 will bear any other kind of drawing after it ; and 
 it gives a mastery over the outline and the sha- 
 dows of form, which no other branch of the art 
 will give. It is, therefore, a mistake to begin, 
 for instance, landscape, or even flower-drawing, 
 with the study of landscape, or of flowers only. 
 It should be begun with studies of heads, the size 
 of nature, practising for some time ; after which, 
 more progress will be made in landscape and in 
 the delicate tints and life-shadows of flowers, in 
 the course of a short time, than would be made 
 in a much longer period, without the previous 
 
14 APHORISMS 
 
 training of the eyes and of the hand, by drawing 
 heads and other parts of the human figure on a 
 large scale. This is, of course, only if our ob- 
 ject be to draw well. If we be satisfied with draw- 
 ing only prettily, we may then begin and learn as 
 we like best. 
 
 As regards a master, better it is you should be 
 left to your own unaided resources, than be taught 
 by an inferior artist. Not all who call themselves 
 artists are such ; for, more goes to make one than 
 falls to the lot of many. Many artists shew, in 
 their drawing, practice without either mind, or a 
 real knowledge of what they attempt. Many of 
 them also are confirmed mannerists. They have, 
 may be, one, or, at the most, two stereotype images 
 of trees in their mind ; because they are artists ; 
 that is, they have studied art and not nature. 
 Their figures, too, are all of the same dress, co- 
 lour and stamp; with white or red caps, and 
 bright green or blue jackets; and rarely below 
 six or seven feet in height. But that is neither 
 Nature nor Nature's image-drawing. It is con- 
 ventional art, and quite distinct from Nature. 
 
 If, therefore, you can have the advantage of a 
 really good master, who both understands what 
 he does, knows what he teaches, and knows how 
 to teach it, a few lessons from such a man will 
 
ON DRAWING. 15 
 
 make difficulties easy, by putting you at once on 
 the right road to correct and effective drawing. 
 If, on the other hand, you are so situated, in the 
 country for instance, as to be debarred from such 
 help, you can yet do a great deal, nay, you may 
 do almost everything by yourself. 
 
 You have, I trust, a correct eye ; open it, and 
 look ; 
 
 IX. 
 
 Look, and reason on what you see ; 
 
 study the endless grace of outline, in the tree that 
 waves in the morning breeze and fans you at 
 noon ; follow the mazes of its foliage ; and breathe 
 the light air that bears its elegant masses, and 
 plays among them. Mark the stem; how the 
 light and chequered shade of the foliage falls upon 
 it, and gives it life ; see also the branches, what 
 vigour in their joints, what life, what expression 
 in their sinuous forms ; and the gnarled roots of 
 the tree, with what power they grasp the soil and 
 enter into the very heart of the earth. When 
 you see all that, and feel it, you have only to take 
 pencil and paper, and you must draw. 
 
 Or else, follow that bright gleam of light that 
 pours down from the hill, over the meadow grass ; 
 and which, after sparkling in the ripple of the 
 
16 APHORISMS 
 
 stream, falls upon the smoking chimney of the 
 woodman's hut, sheltered under the dark foliage 
 of the pine-wood beyond. When you see and feel 
 those things, you have only to take colours and 
 paper, and you must paint. Not well, at first; 
 nor yet, perhaps, after several attempts : but every 
 effort you make to imitate that faultless model 
 brings you nearer your object, which is to convey 
 to yourself and to others a lasting impression of 
 your love of Nature, and of your feeling of its 
 beauties. 
 
 For it is only in proportion as we converse with 
 God's works in Nature, that we grow to under- 
 stand them, to enter into their pure and perfect 
 beauty ; and thereby learn to paint or to draw. 
 The more we look into them, the more also we see 
 to admire. For we see God in them. Whereas 
 the more we look into the works of man, the more 
 imperfection we find. 
 
 The only school, then, for a true and genuine 
 taste of the beautiful, is Nature. From it alone 
 come all the best forms and the truest outlines ; 
 and to it, after all, return, as by common consent, 
 all the finest efforts of human art and genius. 
 
 For,— 
 
ON DRAWING. 17 
 
 X. 
 
 Nature is Truth ; 
 
 and Art is but a poor attempt at an imitation of 
 it. That taste, therefore, is, in reality, most ge- 
 nuine, that looks for ideas of beauty in Nature and 
 not in art; in the faultless elegance of a well- 
 grown tree, for instance, rather than in the stiff 
 and formal outline of even the best architectural 
 designs. Each has its characteristic beauty of 
 form. But the one is natural, that is, genuine; 
 and the other is artistic, that is, made up. 
 
 But although Nature is the only master from 
 which we ought to borrow our touch and our ex- 
 pression of its character, we learn much from good 
 works written by able and clever men. There 
 are many of the kind. But the treatises on draw- 
 ing in general, and on landscape in particular, 
 with which I am best acquainted, and which I 
 can thoroughly recommend, are Mr. Harding's. 
 His studies of trees especially deserve great praise. 
 With such books to study at home, and Nature 
 to copy out of doors, your aptitude for drawing 
 will soon develope itself into a correct style of 
 your own. 
 
 For since drawing results from the mind, be- 
 
18 APHORISMS 
 
 ware of endeavouring to imitate any one artist in 
 particular, but 
 
 XI. 
 
 Form your own style upon Nature. 
 
 Learn the principles of art of whom you may 
 best, and follow good advice as to your work; 
 but educate your taste, train your eye, and form 
 your hand on Nature. It is the only perfect 
 master. For even the best of teachers cannot 
 be followed implicitly, since they show, side by 
 side with flashes of genius, proofs of oversight, or of 
 inferiority in some things. Raphael, for instance, 
 ought never to have attempted landscape in any 
 way ; his back-grounds often kill his perfect figures. 
 Thus, on the cartoon of the miraculous draught 
 of fishes, not only is the perspective of the water 
 incorrect, (judging at least from the copies I have 
 seen,) but both Our Saviour and St. Peter are 
 put together in a boat too small to carry one man 
 in safety, much less two. In the celebrated fresco 
 of the Lord's Supper, by Leonardo da Vinci, the 
 table, as it is drawn, cannot possibly stand ; for the 
 trusses on w T hich it rests have only one side. Our 
 Saviour's head, also, is drawn in the centre of a 
 square window, the opening of which takes from 
 the effect of the light and shade on that Divine 
 
ON DRAWING. 19 
 
 head. The whole picture would have been better 
 if the table had been laid in the length, and not 
 in the breadth, of the room. In like manner, that 
 great master, Salvator Rosa, often painted trees 
 and rocks of his own, with a masterly touch it is 
 true, but still not always after the model of 
 Nature. 
 
 So true it is that style in drawing proceeds from 
 the mind of the artist more than from practice, 
 that a want of uniformity in it is both apparent 
 and unpleasant to the eye. Thus, we find that 
 pictures, in which the trees are done by one ar- 
 tist, and the figures, or the cattle, by another, in 
 general do not answer. They are wanting in 
 uniformity, because they are not wholly done by 
 the same mind. And since one man does not 
 know what, or how, another man feels ; and since 
 the minds of no two men are entirely alike, it fol- 
 lows that the figures, or the cattle, in such pic- 
 tures, do not in fact belong to the rest. This defect 
 will not strike everybody ; because few persons, 
 comparatively, are good judges of drawing. But 
 the defect exists, nevertheless. 
 
 Under these circumstances, then, and since your 
 drawing ought to be the child of your mind and 
 of your soul, 
 
20 APHORISMS 
 
 XII. 
 Guard against mannerism and fashion. 
 
 Do not, therefore, draw in such or such a style, 
 because some great master does it ; but be more 
 independent, and copy Nature. And, as to ad- 
 miring anything, only because others do so, with- 
 out feeling admiration for it yourself, it would 
 argue in you no knowledge of drawing, and no 
 faculty to appreciate its merits. 
 
 I recollect being one day at Citta di Pieve, 
 where, as a matter of course, I was taken from 
 one end of the town to the other, in order to see 
 some of Perugino's pictures. I got weary of his 
 figures awry and dressed in buckram, and of his 
 buildings out of perspective, and I was reluctantly 
 passing through the sacristy of a church, to be 
 shewn some more of them ; when I beheld, nailed 
 against the wall, but without a frame, a beautiful 
 oil-painting of Our Saviour giving the keys to 
 St. Peter. It was a relief, at last, to dwell on 
 those fine figures, dressed in good drapery ; and I 
 asked my guide if he could tell me the author of 
 that painting. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and said, w he did 
 not know ; it was nobody's ; for it had no frame ! " 
 
ON DRAWING. 21 
 
 On another occasion I was asked to accompany 
 a few friends to see some of Raphael's pictures, 
 in one of the palaces at Rome. While my com- 
 panions, Murray in hand, were inspecting the 
 works of the great master, I strolled into a room 
 adjoining, in which, among other pictures I no- 
 ticed a very beautiful Virgin and Child ; author 
 unknown. I went to call my friends, and begged 
 they would come and admire the face and the 
 expression of the female figure. " What, that ! " 
 said one of them ; " Let us see : oh, it is not in 
 Murray ! " And so saying he left the room. 
 
 That absurd imitation of others in drawing is 
 often carried as far even as the touch ; but this is, 
 assuredly, a waste of time and of labour. For, as 
 the touch, like the hand-writing, depends on the 
 personal character or disposition of the artist, it 
 can no more be acquired than that disposition or 
 character. We all learn to write alike, and yet 
 we all write dhTerently ; and, however much we 
 may prefer some hand-writing to our own, we 
 cannot exchange this for that, unless we can also 
 borrow the moral or the mental features of the 
 person whose hand-writing we admire most. 
 
 So also in drawing. It is impossible for a per- 
 son, whose mind is always occupied with details 
 rather than with the aim, point, or general bear- 
 
22 APHORISMS 
 
 ing of things, to seize, for instance, the principal 
 and most marked features of a landscape, whether 
 in outline or in light and shade, wherein lie the 
 expression and the meaning of that scene, and 
 make that the chief object in drawing ; regardless 
 of minor details that would disturb the harmony 
 and the relative features of the whole. Likewise, 
 a person of a close and avaricious disposition, 
 with little or no generosity of heart, and who of 
 course shows it in a small, angular, close hand- 
 writing, will never acquire a bold and dashing 
 style of drawing. The mind is engrossed with 
 secondary objects, and the hand is encumbered 
 by them ; and then, of course, the touch is small, 
 harsh, stiff, and wanting in natural grace, and the 
 colouring is lifeless. The greens are sallow, the 
 lights are dull, and the shadows have no trans- 
 parency. 
 
 Not so, however, where the disposition is dif- 
 ferent. A person who naturally dislikes details, 
 and aims only at truth and effect, will show it in 
 his style of drawing. This may possibly be less 
 accurate in all respects than a more studied and 
 more particular style, but it is far more effective. 
 It may bear a less minute investigation, but it 
 possesses more truth, and pleases better than a 
 more cramped or formal touch; the colouring, 
 
ON DRAWING. 23 
 
 too, will be rich and glowing, the lights bright, 
 and the shadows aerial and transparent. 
 
 For, after all, in drawing, as in writing, the mind 
 is of more importance than the touch. A bunch 
 of flowers, for instance, roughly done, but alive, 
 that is, with the lights and shadows at the right 
 place, will please a great deal more, because it is 
 more true, than the elaborate drawing of a Chinese 
 artist, in which there is neither light nor shade, 
 and therefore no life and no truth. The main 
 point is, then, not so much the touch as the feel- 
 ing of the mind that forms it. When once we 
 understand Nature, and seek to express our un- 
 derstanding of it on paper, the touch must follow, 
 as a matter of course, and be formed from it. 
 
 There are, however, certain things which may 
 either assist or hinder in the acquisition of a bold 
 and true style of drawing. 
 
 For instance, the use of a fine and hard pencil, 
 and of a small copy, with white paper highly hot- 
 pressed, will effectually cramp the hand. But a 
 soft pencil, bb, bbb, or bbbb, smooth and soft 
 lightly-tinted paper, with large copies at home, 
 and Nature abroad, will, on the contrary, give a 
 bold and free style ; at least, they will materially 
 contribute towards it. Likewise, in water-co- 
 lours, if you paint with a small brush, much colour 
 
24 APHORISMS 
 
 and little water, on smooth paper, the effect of 
 your drawing when done will be harsh, heavy, 
 woolly, and without any of that transparency 
 which constitutes the chief beauty of water-co- 
 lours. If, on the other hand, you accustom your- 
 self to work with a very large brush (provided it 
 has a good point), abundance of water, compa- 
 ratively little colour, and on rough paper, your 
 outlines may be harsh at first, but that will cor- 
 rect itself in time. And they will be well defined, 
 and characteristic ; your work will possess an airy 
 transparency, and you will acquire a freedom of 
 touch that nothing else can give. 
 
 By transparency, I mean, not of tints only, but 
 of actual colour, showing through it the original 
 white of the paper; which is, I apprehend, the 
 characteristic feature of true water-colour paint- 
 ing. This transparency disappears in the style of 
 water-colours generally practised at present, in 
 which Chinese white is freely admitted and pro- 
 fusely used. As it is taught and advocated by 
 artists of great ability, I will abstain from ex- 
 pressing freely my mind on the subject. I will 
 simply say, that it appears to me to be a style 
 neither one thing nor the other ; neither strictly 
 body-colours nor purely water-colours ; and thus 
 eminently artificial and not real. The dullness 
 
ON DRAWING. 25 
 
 and opacity of coloured lights when put on, does 
 not harmonize with the transparency of the tints 
 on which the lights are laid. 
 
 Much also depends on the way in which you 
 hold the pencil or the brush. If you hold either 
 as you do a pen in writing, that is, resting against 
 the tip of the middle finger, and tightly held be- 
 tween the thumb and the fore-finger, you never 
 will draw ; or, at least, your touch will always 
 remain stiff and graceless. The pencil or the 
 brush should be held lightly ; it should rest on 
 the flat side of the middle finger, above the root of 
 the nail, and almost upon the first joint. The 
 whole length of the tip-joint of the fore-finger 
 then falls naturally upon the pencil, and holds it 
 slightly ; and the thumb, a little curved, gently 
 presses the pencil, opposite the first bend of the 
 fore-finger. The pencil, or the brush, held in that 
 manner, may be turned and handled in any way 
 you please ; and with the little finger alone rest- 
 ing on the paper, and acting like a spring, the 
 hand is so disposed as of necessity to give you a 
 free and easy touch. 
 
 Then, again, avoid all fictitious means, in- 
 vented by those who profess to teach " drawing 
 made easy ; " such as the camera lucida, or obscura, 
 etc. If you can draw, you do not, assuredly, re- 
 
26 APHORISMS 
 
 quire them ; if you cannot draw, you may rely 
 upon it those contrivances will never teach it 
 you. But rather, 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Train your Eye. 
 
 A correct eye is invaluable ; with it you cannot 
 do wrong, without it you never will do right. 
 It is well to learn a few elementary rules of per- 
 spective, as it saves time ; but unless your eye 
 feels them, and leads you to correct and to alter 
 your lines until they be right, and your eye be 
 satisfied — rules alone will not gratify either your- 
 self or those who look at your drawings. So true 
 it is that, for instance, two drawings of the same 
 interior, one done by an architect, with rule and 
 compasses, and every particle of linear perspective 
 strictly adhered to — the other done with the eye 
 and the hand alone, which aims at having the lead- 
 ing lines correct, and leaves many details to take 
 care of themselves, will produce very different 
 effects. The first, painfully laboured and accurate, 
 will excite our wonder and admiration ; the latter 
 will gratify us more. In this one the play of light 
 and shade among the piles of the building will 
 more than make up for the details of drawing, 
 
ON DRAWING. 27 
 
 overlooked here and there. Why is that? Be- 
 cause the one is the lifeless result of rule ; the 
 other is the joint work of the eye, of the mind, 
 and of the hand, all in one. 
 
 For, after all, what we admire in drawing is, 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Artist's Mind rather than his Art. 
 
 A single stroke of the pencil, or of the brush, 
 shows the mind that orders it, and the spirit with 
 which it is done. In one artist the touch is stiff, 
 small, hesitating, painfully studied, and utterly 
 wanting in truth and in effect. In another, we 
 find it, on the contrary, free, bold, often unac- 
 countable, and yet full of spirit, of life, and of 
 truth. What, then, makes the difference ? The 
 pencil, the paper, the model are the same for 
 both. Even so : but the souls of both artists 
 are not alike. One is a slave, the other rules ; 
 one never rises above mediocrity, the other never 
 sinks so low ; one only copies, the other both 
 copies and creates at the same time. One draw- 
 ing, in short, is not real, it is only conventional, 
 and purely artistic ; the other breathes the life of 
 the original, whatever that be. That one follows 
 rigidly the rules of art ; this, on the other hand, 
 
28 APHORISMS 
 
 is more independent ; it asserts a certain mastery 
 even over art itself, which it follows only in so far 
 as art helps to represent Nature with feeling and 
 with truth. The slave of art aims at drawing 
 objects as he fancies they are ; the born-draughts- 
 man is satisfied with doing all he can do, that is, 
 in giving the embodied soul and spirit of what he 
 sees, and no more. 
 
 How can that be, say perhaps some of a mo- 
 dern school of painting, distinguished by a re- 
 markable adherence to impossibilities — if both 
 copy Nature ? 
 
 So it is, however ; for we must bear in mind 
 that, when we look at a landscape, or at any other 
 extensive object, the eye in fact embraces ex- 
 actly only one thing, or point, at a time. Every 
 object, but the particular one upon which our 
 eyes are fixed at the moment, is noticed only in 
 part. Habit, perhaps, makes us overlook this 
 fact, but it nevertheless is so. In a good pic- 
 ture, therefore, this rule is observed ; and, while 
 the one object on which the eyes are intended 
 to dwell in particular is worked out fully, sur- 
 rounding objects and details are left much less 
 elaborate ; witness Murillo's best pictures. 
 
 Those artists, therefore, sin against plain com- 
 mon sense in drawing, who labour to finish every 
 
ON DRAWING. 29 
 
 corner of their picture alike. For they forget that, 
 when we look at Nature, and carry our eyes from 
 one point to another, so as to examine in detail 
 every object successively, we change the per- 
 spective of all the lines in Nature at the same time 
 that we move the eye from one object to another. 
 So that, whereas all lines in Nature converge to 
 one point only at one and the same time ; this, in 
 fact, cannot be when we look at a picture in which 
 the lines are fixed. Unless then, the perspective 
 of touch agrees with the linear perspective of the 
 picture, especially in the case of buildings, or other 
 formal objects, so as to draw and fix the eye upon 
 the centre, or principal object in the picture, — 
 what else follows than that our work must be 
 wanting in uniformity, because it is wanting in the 
 harmony of all its component parts. And it be- 
 comes, in fact, twisted or distorted every time we 
 look from one side of the picture to the other. 
 
 Let it not be supposed, however, that I dis- 
 claim all details in drawing ; I only beg for them 
 in their proper place ; for, according to the very 
 true Turkish proverb : 
 
 " He who knows not the details knows not the 
 whole." 
 
 In drawing, especially, nothing leads to a firm 
 and free style but a thorough knowledge of the 
 
30 APHORISMS 
 
 several particulars which, in the aggregate, form 
 the general outline, done, it may be, with one 
 dash of the hand. Take the human figure, for 
 instance : one artist draws it very much like a 
 Dutch doll, with limbs made of sticks, wound with 
 wool ; the other, with one stroke, lays life on the 
 paper. Why ? simply because, in the one case, 
 the artist knows no details ; in the other, how- 
 ever, the artist knows every joint, every muscle, 
 and every sinew, and the living fibre of which 
 they consist ; and he tells all those unseen details 
 in the one stroke of his masterly hand. 
 
 So also in every other kind of drawing, whether 
 of trees, of flowers, or of mountains. The artist 
 who has patiently studied the details of a tree, 
 for instance, who knows the skeleton of it, the 
 articulation and the direction of its branches, 
 and therefore the shape of its masses of foliage, 
 will not lay all those details bare, and dot his 
 tree with almost invisible leaves. But he will 
 give instinctively, without being always able to 
 account for his touch, the expression of the tree, 
 and the character of the foliage, in one bold and 
 free outline of the whole. 
 
 We must bear in mind that, after all, a rapid 
 style of drawing is only, as it were, running in 
 the art. If a child attempts to run ere he can 
 
ON DRAWING. 31 
 
 walk, a fall must follow ; but, after he has learnt 
 to walk, step by step, and has strengthened his 
 gait by careful exercise and attention to it, he 
 may then run both swiftly and with grace. It is, 
 therefore, a mistake to try and acquire at once a 
 bold and rapid style ; it can only come by study 
 and by practice, since it is the result of being 
 familiar with details. These need not always be 
 told in drawing, but there can be no good draw- 
 ing without a thorough knowledge of them. 
 
 I will suppose, then, that you are in presence 
 of Nature, pencil or brush in hand, and about 
 to put upon paper what your feelings are of the 
 beauties you behold. First of all, you make a 
 dot for each of the two or three prominent objects 
 or points in the landscape, be they buildings, 
 trees, or hills, or even parts of them, which you 
 take particular care to place at a correct distance 
 and position relatively to one another. You sketch 
 roughly those objects that are to act as land- 
 marks in your drawing, and you fill in after- 
 wards, in good perspective, both aerial and linear. 
 
 What is now your object? It is to produce a 
 good effect ; that is, to put the light and shade of 
 your drawing in correct relation to the outline 
 of it. What then is Effect ? It is — 
 
 ^_ 1 s 
 
 
 
32 APHORISMS 
 
 XV. 
 
 Harmony in contrast; 
 
 in contrast between light and shade, subject to 
 aerial perspective ; that is, not harsh or arbitrary, 
 but in harmony with itself. It is contrast, for light 
 is made by drawing the shadow ; it is harmony, for 
 without it there is confusion and no effect. Effect 
 is the artistic life of nature ; it implies, therefore, 
 
 An outline, and the soul thereof, which is 
 
 Light and shade. 
 
 The outline, then, should be — 
 
 XVI. 
 
 True. 
 
 If you draw from Nature, do not invent, but 
 follow your model truthfully. The outline is in 
 drawing what melody is in music ; and light and 
 shade answer to harmony. There can be no good 
 music without good melody, for harmony alone 
 soon palls upon the ear. In like manner there is 
 no good drawing without a good outline. This 
 then should be 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Correct. 
 
 One line only, in good expression and perspec- 
 tive. This line should not appear in a painting. 
 
ON DRAWING. 33 
 
 XVIII. 
 Free. 
 
 Not formal or stiff, but easy and accurate. 
 XIX. 
 
 Bold. 
 
 Fearless, but not at random. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Alive and spirited. 
 
 Delicate and aerial on the light side ; broader 
 and more marked on the side of the shadow ; and 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Expressive. 
 
 For recollect, that in drawing in general, and in 
 the outline especially, every touch should have a 
 meaning, and 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Every stroke should tell ; 
 
 but never more so than in drawing or painting 
 Light. For 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Light is the life, 
 
 and 
 
34 APHORISMS 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Lights are the expression of the drawing. 
 To explain what I mean, consider the human 
 face : there is light and shade all over it, and light 
 gives it both life and complexion ; but the lights, 
 the two bright specks on the pupil of each eye, 
 give it expression. Why ? because they give it a 
 meaning, by being at their only proper place. 
 So true is this, that one or two more such bright 
 specks added elsewhere on the face would at once 
 destroy its expression and its general effect, by 
 distracting the eye, and by bringing secondary 
 features too prominently forward. From whence 
 we gather, as a general rule in drawing and paint- 
 ing, that 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Light is mellow ; 
 
 lower in general tint than the brighter lights. 
 XXVI. 
 
 Uniform ; 
 
 equal in tint. 
 
ON DRAWING. 35 
 
 XXVII. 
 In perspective : 
 
 that is, more or less subdued, according to dis- 
 tance, and that 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The Lights are few ; 
 
 for they are in the drawing what the bright 
 specks are on the eyes ; only one or two. Lights 
 also should be 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 True ; 
 
 that is, at the right place. 
 
 Hence we see the advantage of tinted paper 
 for pencil-drawing ; and also the abuse to which 
 it is liable. 
 
 The advantage of it is, to give an even tone of 
 subdued light throughout. 
 
 The abuse of it, which we find even in tinted 
 lithographs that bear great names in art, is, 
 that the white lights are often profusely scattered 
 or misplaced. In other words, the face of the 
 drawing is dotted all over with the bright specks 
 that of right belong only to the eyes. 
 
 We find, for instance, in those lithographs, 
 high buildings, white throughout, from top to 
 
36 APHORISMS 
 
 bottom; whereby the aerial perspective is lost. 
 For the brightest light on a tower, or any other 
 such high object, falls, of course, near the ground ; 
 and the top of the building cannot possibly be as 
 bright as the lower part, owing to the depth of 
 atmosphere, which is greater between the eye and 
 the top, than between that and the bottom of the 
 tower. If the top of the tower be as bright as 
 the lower part of it, it is at once brought as near to 
 the eye as the bottom, which is naturally nearer; 
 and then the aerial and the linear perspectives 
 find themselves at variance with each other. 
 
 In the same lithographs, too, we often find dis- 
 tant buildings, as white as others much nearer, or 
 on the foreground. This, too, removes those ob- 
 jects from their rightful place, by bringing them 
 nearer than they can possibly be relatively to the 
 rest of the picture. 
 
 This careless use of white lights not only 
 destroys all aerial perspective, but it also dis- 
 tracts the eye, which is caught by more promi- 
 nent objects than it can possibly hold at once to- 
 gether. From whence we gather that, since white 
 is the brightest light available in drawing, nothing 
 in drawing, whether in pencil or in water co- 
 lours, should be left white on paper but what is 
 white or bright in Nature; and nothing can be 
 
ON DRAWING. 37 
 
 perfectly white but either on the foreground, or 
 very near it. For even clouds appear white, only 
 by contrast, with the deep blue sky, or with dark- 
 er tints on earth ; since the atmosphere between 
 the eye and the nearest cloud must, to a certain 
 extent, break the rays of the sun upon the cloud, 
 and subdue the light. In pencil-drawings on 
 tinted paper, then, distant lights should either be 
 brought out by simply working the shadows, which 
 is by far the best way to insure harmony in the 
 drawing; or else they should be laid on with a 
 very thin touch of white, slightly tinted with the 
 colour of the paper. For, on many tinted papers, 
 white looks more like snow than like light. 
 Hence, as a general rule in drawing, 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Be rich in Light, 
 
 and 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Spare in Lights. 
 
 For as Light is the life of a drawing, so also 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Lights are its eyes. 
 
 In like manner, then, as we distinguish light from 
 
38 APHORISMS 
 
 lights in a picture ; so also do we make a differ- 
 ence between 
 
 Shade 
 and 
 
 Shadow. 
 
 xxxiii. 
 
 Shade is the absence of light, 
 and 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Shadow is the shade of an object. 
 
 Thus it is correct to say : — She is drawing in the 
 shade, under the shadow of that tree. 
 
 Hence, shade seldom has a distinct outline, 
 which is, generally, cast by a cloud ; but a sha- 
 dow has one always ; and the outline of the shadow 
 is in exact relation to the outline of the object 
 that casts it : the angle of the sun, and of the sur- 
 face, upon which the shadow falls, considered. 
 Since all the shadows proceed from one point in 
 the sky — the sun 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Beware of two suns ; 
 
 one is enough for the picture. But while for each 
 object in particular, you 
 
ON DRAWING. 39 
 
 XXXVI. 
 Observe the same angle of light, 
 
 otherwise the object would look crooked ; yet, in 
 the picture, as a whole, keep in view the 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Divergence of the rays of light, 
 
 and, therefore, of shadows too, according to the 
 position of the sun in the sky. Artists who are 
 careless on this point, either give a wrong angle 
 to their shadows, or make the sun extend over 
 several degrees of latitude; both of which are 
 wrong. Thus, then, as your lights, so let your 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Shadows be true. 
 
 They can seldom if ever be invented. You may 
 calculate the shadow cast by a square, or a round 
 object, or building, upon a flat surface ; but the 
 shadow of a tree across the road, or against a bank, 
 must be studied in Nature ; it cannot be reasoned. 
 We see, by nothing, so much as by the out- 
 line of the shadows, whether a drawing was done 
 from Nature, or not. If it be done from Nature, 
 
40 APHORISMS 
 
 the shadows are alive and true ; that is, they are 
 a correct image, all things considered, of the ob- 
 jects that cast them. If, on the other hand, the 
 drawing be finished and shaded at home, it is little 
 better than — Nature in a shroud. 
 Lights are true, then, when 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 The shadows are broad. 
 
 Rather err on this side ; broad shadows are best ; 
 they give harmony to the drawing. 
 
 This applies to the shade of even large promi- 
 nent features in the landscape. For instance, the 
 shade of a mountain becomes a shadow, when con- 
 sidered as one feature only in the picture. That 
 shadow had better be broad, and the sun low in 
 the sky, if you draw from imagination. But, if 
 possible, draw it from Nature ; and see how the 
 rugged and picturesque outline of the rocks you 
 are sketching, falls in a deep blue shadow on the 
 hill-side beyond. You cannot invent it; it is 
 Nature's lesson, because it is Nature's truth. 
 
 On the breadth of the shade, or of shadows, 
 depends their transparency; for, although our 
 eye cannot always appreciate it fully, neverthe- 
 less 
 
ON DRAWING. 41 
 
 XL. 
 
 Shadows are transparent, 
 
 that is, aerial; since shade, or shadow, consists 
 in both the refraction of the rays of light, and 
 also in the reflection of the colours of neighbour- 
 ing objects. Hence, the further the shadow is 
 from the eye, the more it partakes of the colour 
 of the sky — blue. Hence, too, the brightest lights 
 and the darkest shadows are always close to- 
 gether. 
 
 Thus, then, 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Shadows always agree with the sky. 
 
 A cloudless sky will give blueish shadows ; and 
 the more so as the object that casts the shadow 
 is of a lighter colour. A cloudy sky will cause 
 shadows to appear of a more greyish hue; but 
 even then, let them be broad, even, and trans- 
 parent. 
 
 So true it is, that if you happen to stand on a 
 foreground which is in the shade, under an open 
 sky, the refraction of the blue sky overhead, and 
 the reflection of the colours of the various objects 
 around, will make the shade appear much lighter 
 than when you look at it from outside the shadow. 
 
42 APHORISMS 
 
 Hence, under ordinary circumstances, a very 
 dark foreground is a mistake. It is, I know, one 
 of the rules of art by which to increase the dis- 
 tance ; but it is one of the many points in which, 
 I believe, Art differs from Nature, and it has this 
 disadvantage, that whereas a foreground of trans- 
 parent shade places you at once upon it, in the 
 midst of the picture, a very dark foreground acts 
 like a window, through which you look at the 
 landscape beyond, and places you outside the 
 landscape, or the scene represented, whatever it 
 be. It is not the shade or the shadow that is, in 
 reality, deep or dark, so much as the details that 
 are in it. Only look at your own shadow on the 
 road, and see how light and blue it is. Thus then, 
 while shadows are broad, even, aerial, and gradu- 
 ated in depth according to the distance from the 
 eye, 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Details are distinct ; 
 
 drawn firmly, and with a clear touch, once for all. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Decided ; 
 
 each telling what it is. And in order to preserve 
 harmony, 
 
ON DRAWING, 43 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Details are few. 
 
 The foregoing general remarks, then, are sum- 
 med up in these three axioms : 
 
 Lights true, 
 Shadows broad, and 
 Details few. 
 
 We now come to a few particulars. 
 TREES. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Every tree has a character of its own. 
 
 This depends on the growth, on the articulation 
 and the direction of the branches, on the shape of 
 the leaf, and on the masses of foliage. 
 
 If therefore, you wish to learn to draw trees as 
 they are in Nature, and not stereotype or conven- 
 tional objects, but trees, with all the life of their 
 growth, and all the elegance of their outline, 
 
44 APHORISMS 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Study the skeleton of trees, 
 
 in winter. One look will teach you that the oak 
 and the ash, for instance, are not shaped alike: 
 one displays manly vigour and boldness of form, 
 the other droops and recoils ; the one is son of the 
 earth, the other only as an ornament to it. 
 
 In the skeleton of trees notice — 1. The articu- 
 lation of the branches with the trunk. ' They are 
 neither mortised into the tree nor nailed to it; 
 they live and grow out of the stem. Make that a 
 study. 2. The direction, and the tortuosity of the 
 branches, always with life and grace. Branches 
 do not come one out of the other, like -pegs ; they 
 live one from the other, and every one of their 
 joints and of their bends shows that life. That, 
 too, is matter for a long study ; for the grace or 
 truth of a tree depends as much, if not more, on 
 the growth of its skeleton than on the masses 
 made to hide it. 
 
 A want of attention to those particulars, and to 
 the proportion which ought always to exist be- 
 tween the size of the trunk and the weight of the 
 foliage it bears, often leads artists of talent to draw 
 trees which cannot possibly stand under their 
 
ON DBA WING. 45 
 
 mass of branches and of leaves. You often see a 
 slender stem with an enormous top, much more 
 like a cauliflower than like a tree. But since we 
 all have Nature before our eyes to copy, no sort of 
 conventional style, no school, no age, no fancy can 
 justify such deformity ; for no amount of private 
 or of public opinion can ever make that right 
 which in itself is wrong. For, remember 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Truth in drawing. 
 
 In drawing, as in everything else, Truth is inde- 
 pendent of opinion. It abides of itself. 
 
 After having studied the character of the trunk, 
 and the winding of the branches, then 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Study the leaf. 
 
 The shape of the leaf is characteristic of the 
 tree, and of the way in which it hangs on the stalk. 
 Since, unless we know the details we do not 
 know the whole, no one can give a tree its own 
 characteristic foliage who does not first under- 
 stand the outline and economy of the leaf. If 
 these details appear irksome, bear in mind that 
 what is worth doing is worth doing well, and that 
 
46 APHORISMS 
 
 truth is the soul of drawing. For drawing 
 pleases only in proportion as it comes nearer to 
 a true copy of the soul and spirit of Nature. 
 After the study of the leaf, 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Study the foliage. 
 
 Masses are, of course, made up of leaves, and 
 they borrow their character from them. 
 
 Compare, for instance, in the same group, the 
 bearing, expression, and colour of the oak, of the 
 birch, of the ash, of the walnut, of the willow, 
 of the spruce-fir, and of the^ pine. Or, among 
 trees of the same class, compare the foliage of the 
 yew, of the cedar, of the fir, and of the pine ; or 
 that of the plane, of the sycamore, of the maple, 
 etc. Every one of those trees differs from its 
 neighbour ; and one stereotype touch for each of 
 those classes of trees would not represent them all. 
 
 But the study of trees is well worth the trouble 
 it may give. If you understand and feel a tree, 
 you will have little difficulty, and that difficulty 
 will disappear in practice. But if, without feeling 
 the wonderful elegance of every part of trees, you 
 attempt to draw them, after Mr. So-and-so's style, 
 and not after the style of the trees that stand 
 
ON DBA WING. 47 
 
 before you as your model, your task is hopeless, 
 and your success impossible. 
 
 Trees are the ornament of Nature ; they, of all 
 objects worthy of imitation in drawing, are the 
 most graceful, and the most faultless in outline. 
 In drawing a tree, then, 
 
 L. 
 
 Mind the perspective, 
 
 Linear, of the branches, and of the foliage ; let the 
 touch be smaller and less distinct, though quite 
 as characteristic, near the top of the tree than 
 nearer the bottom of it. 
 
 Aerial: bear in mind that the tree is, more or 
 less, round or spherical, and treat the general 
 shadows accordingly, viz. no bright masses near 
 the top, or on the sides, except under particular 
 effects of light ; and both the darkest shade and 
 the brightest light on that part of the tree which 
 is nearest your eye. Remember also, how the 
 atmosphere plays around an object that is round, 
 and let none of the masses on the edge be sharp 
 and dark, as if they were cut out of paper. Even 
 when a tree is seen with light from behind there 
 is not one harsh line in it. 
 
 But these are hints only. If you understand 
 
48 APHORISMS 
 
 and feel the tree you cannot go wrong : your 
 masses will grow distinct, and yet light and airy, 
 under your hand; and the air that waves the 
 feather-like branches of your model will inspire 
 you to draw them as they are. 
 
 BUILDINGS. 
 
 They are the opposite of trees in style of out- 
 line, as formal and as stiff as trees are elegant 
 and graceful. Buildings, however, especially old 
 buildings, from the very nature of their construc- 
 tion, present admirable effects of light and shade. 
 
 Even in buildings then 
 
 LI. 
 
 Let the outline be full of life. 
 
 If you find it necessary, in larger drawings 
 especially, to use a ruler, let it be only to guide 
 your hand, which must hide with firm and bold 
 lines the formal traces of the rule. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Avoid sharp angles, 
 
 in all buildings, but especially in ruins, which are 
 
ON DRAWING. 49 
 
 the most picturesque ; the angles of the walls, &c. 
 are more or less broken and jagged, and afford 
 bright bits of light, which sparkle as it were in the 
 sun, and give life to the mass of stones which 
 without them would look dead. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Avoid bright uniform lights. 
 
 There is not a wall, (unless it be plastered, 
 and that is no study for any one fond of beauty,) 
 that does not offer endless occupation for the 
 brush or the pencil, in the manner in which the 
 light falls edge- ways upon the angles, corners, or 
 other anfractuosities of the stones. So that, even 
 if the sun appears to pour its full light upon the 
 side of the building, you cannot leave it quite 
 white and smooth on the paper ; but, with a light 
 touch, or with a transparent tint, the brightest 
 bits of light on the rough surface of the wall 
 must all be brought out. 
 
 Good linear perspective is, of course, taken for 
 granted. But aerial perspective is often neglected, 
 therefore ; bear in mind, that 
 
 LI 
 
50 APHORISMS 
 
 LIV. 
 
 The higher parts of the building are tinted, 
 so as to bring the bottom of it nearer your eye, 
 by casting the brightest light upon that. For the 
 same reason also, the more distant part of a hori- 
 zontal building must also be tinted, so as to throw 
 the light on the part nearest you. In short, in 
 buildings especially, — because of their formal out- 
 line, — the linear and the aerial perspective should 
 agree together and be in strict keeping. 
 
 Next to the brightest lights we shall also find 
 the darkest shadows ; but the same depth of atmos- 
 phere which tends to subdue the light of a dis- 
 tant object, in like manner also, lends its blue co- 
 lour to the distant shadow. 
 
 So that, in order to shade a square object ac- 
 cording to Nature, we must tint slightly, in blue, 
 the part of both the light and the shady sides that 
 is furthest from the eye. 
 
 From a simple effect of refraction, we find also 
 that 
 
 LV. 
 
 The shadow cast by an object is darker 
 than the shaded side of the object itself. 
 
 And also, from the same reason, that 
 
ON DRAWING. 51 
 
 LVI. 
 The edge of a shadow is more blue than 
 the centre thereof. 
 
 Perfectly brown or black shadows, therefore, 
 are not natural, because they show no atmosphere. 
 The difference of tint in this case is expressed in 
 pencil drawing, by a lighter or a deeper shade ; 
 but under all circumstances the colour or 
 
 LVII. 
 
 The depth of a shadow depends on the 
 angle presented by the surface upon which 
 the shadow falls. 
 
 FIGURES. 
 
 These are all life; there is in them nothing 
 angular or formal ; and in drawing they may be 
 considered in a two-fold point of view, — either as 
 the main object, or as accessory only. 
 
 If a figure, or a group of figures, is the main 
 object in the drawing, in either case they must be 
 
52 APHORISMS 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Strictly anatomical. 
 
 This is a study of itself; but no one can pos- 
 sibly paint or draw the human figure who has not 
 studied, to some extent, both its bones and its 
 muscles ; for as in Nature these live, so also ought 
 they to be living in the drawing. 
 
 Drawing from casts, which is often preferable 
 to drawing from copies, can be no substitute for 
 an anatomical knowledge of the figure. The cast 
 gives no details, but only a dead outline of their 
 aggregate form. Besides, few casts are as they 
 should be, tinted ; so that the shadows formed by 
 purely white features upon the small surface of 
 the cast, are, owing to the refraction, very often 
 incorrect. 
 
 If, however, figures do not form the main ob- 
 ject of the picture, but are only put in as accessory 
 on a small scale, — in a landscape, for instance, — 
 all that is required is, that they should be 
 
 L1X. 
 
 In proportion, 
 
 as regards themselves, and as regards their position 
 in the picture ; and that they should be 
 
ON DBA WING. 53 
 
 LX. 
 
 Well drawn. 
 
 The same rules apply to cattle, and to other 
 animals. 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 These also constitute a special branch of draw- 
 ing or painting, because some persons are more 
 naturally captivated by the kind of beauty that 
 belongs to flowers than by any other object of 
 Nature. But they are not easier than the rest. 
 
 Where real talent for drawing exists, it must be 
 applicable to any branch of it, whether to figures, 
 to flowers, or to landscape. I do not mean that 
 the same artist can excel equally in all ; because 
 excellence is not the result of natural gifts alone, 
 but of practice also ; and no one can devote suf- 
 ficient time or attention to bring more than one 
 branch of drawing to anything like excellence. 
 
 But I mean that, although flowers may appear 
 easy, or at least easier than other objects in Nature, 
 they nevertheless require just as much mind to 
 understand, just as much soul to feel, and just as 
 much talent to work out the pure and perfect out- 
 line of their form, and the delicacy of their tints, 
 
54 APHORISMS 
 
 as the human figure. They do not require such 
 profound study of details, but, no one who does not 
 feel the life of light and shade, and who does not 
 hold intercourse, as it were, with the spirit he may 
 fancy dwells in the flower, just as he would do with 
 the spirit that lights up the countenance he studies, 
 will ever draw flowers otherwise than flat and life- 
 less ; more like their own shadow than like those 
 
 " Sweet nurslings of the vernal skies, 
 Bath'd in soft airs, and fed with dew : 
 relics of Eden's bowers ; 
 
 As pure, as fragrant, and as fair 
 As when they crown'd the sunshine hours 
 
 Of happy wanderers there." 
 
 Every rule of linear and of aerial perspective, 
 every maxim in colouring, every precept in out- 
 line and in light and shade, applies to the drawing 
 of flowers, quite as much, if not more, than it does 
 to other objects ; for they are the true school for 
 elegance of shape, for freshness of tint, for beauty 
 of outline, and for endless grace in attitude. Their 
 bright colours often dazzle, but never clash ; be- 
 cause they are not artificial but real, painted by 
 Nature itself. Their slender and tangled stems 
 and their waving forms may puzzle, but they never 
 confuse ; for in them every line is consistent with 
 itself, since every line in them has a meaning. 
 
ON DBA WING. 55 
 
 All we have to do, then, is first to seize that 
 meaning, and then to trace our outline, and to 
 mix our colours, not after our own fashion, how- 
 ever, but after the perfect model we have. 
 
 SKY. 
 
 The sky differs according to the time or kind of 
 day. A cloudless sky requires practice, very wide 
 brushes, plenty of water, little colour, a firm hand, 
 and patience to wait until each successive tint is 
 quite dry. A good sky may require from twelve 
 to fifteen tints. A dark-blue, or Egyptian sky, 
 must be stippled in cobalt with a very soft camels- 
 hair, and not a sable, brush. A cloudy sky presents 
 perhaps greater difficulties than a cloudless one ; 
 for few things show the artist's hand like clouds. 
 It is easy to paint a sky white and blue, but ex- 
 tremely difficult to paint light, airy, and natural 
 clouds, that float in the atmosphere, or that rest 
 lightly on the hill side, from whence they rise in 
 flakes as light as the air that bears them. Certain 
 clouds are both easily and truthfully done with 
 the finger covered with a soft linen cloth, with 
 which the colour of the sky is quickly and lightly 
 rubbed off while it is still moist ; but this requires 
 practice to insure complete success. 
 
APHORISMS 
 
 In drawings on tinted paper the clouds had 
 better be done with very little white, lightly 
 tinted with the colour of the paper, so as not to 
 draw the eye from objects nearer at hand. 
 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Like everything else in Nature, every moun- 
 tain has its own peculiar expression, because 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Every mountain has distinct features, 
 
 as characteristic and as marked as those of the 
 human face. Drawing a mountain is like taking 
 the likeness of a friend; any other face would 
 not serve as a substitute; so also one outline of 
 hills, or of a hill, will not do for another. 
 
 And the rocks, and the snow of those hills, they 
 will not bear to be drawn " by agreement among 
 artists." They have each its own features. Study 
 the aerial perspective of a hill or of a mountain, 
 more and more subdued in tint and in light as it 
 rises higher, until it seems to borrow from heaven 
 itself the airy tints of its shadows. See how bold 
 is the outline of those stupendous rocks that seem 
 to support the blue vault of heaven, and how cha- 
 
ON DRAWING. 57 
 
 racteristic and fanciful in shape are the patches of 
 snow that lies between them. That is Nature's 
 picture : it must be copied, not invented. Like- 
 wise 
 
 WATER, 
 
 whether running like a stream or torrent, or 
 tranquil like a lake, must be studied on the spot. 
 
 A running mountain stream affords endless 
 studies of light and of lights, in the fresh trans- 
 parent water that sparkles in the sun, when falling 
 over the edge of rocks, or playing in a maze of 
 fitful wavelets in the eddy of the stream. We 
 may study there till we fancy we can learn no 
 more ; and yet every glance of the eye over that 
 running water discovers some new beauty unseen 
 before. Because it is Nature ; it must be studied ; 
 it cannot be thought or invented. 
 
 As to tranquil water, it is necessary to know the 
 rules of perspective of the reflection of objects into 
 the water. Those objects will be reflected in the 
 water down to a certain angle of the surface with 
 your eye, where the rays of light become re- 
 fracted, and you begin to see the colour of the 
 water itself. It is a difficult object to paint well, 
 
58 APHORISMS. 
 
 and, like the rest, requires study, and an intimate 
 acquaintance with the model, Nature, ere it can 
 be done satisfactorily. 
 
 After all, we must end where we began. The 
 sum of drawing is an imitation of Nature, accord- 
 ing to our own conception and feeling of its beau- 
 ties. * If we have eyes that see well, but neither 
 mind to understand, nor soul to feel what we see, 
 we shall never be able to reproduce it on paper or 
 on canvas. If, on the other hand, we can both 
 see and appreciate what we behold, we have that 
 without which it is impossible to draw. Let us 
 try. The soul feels ; the mind will find the way, 
 and the hand will follow it; and by degrees it 
 will trace, in harmony with the feeling that guides 
 it, an image of Nature, in which we learn to 
 see Him who made all things good, for our en- 
 joyment and to His glory. 
 
 For the end of drawing 
 
 LXIL 
 
 To praise Him, in our work, who has 
 given us eyes to see, and a soul to feel, 
 the beauties of His own perfect works. 
 
" Thou, who hast given me eyes to see, 
 And love this sight so fair, 
 
 Give me a heart to find out Thee, 
 And read Thee everywhere." 
 
 Keble. 
 
 CHISWJCK TRESS : 
 r. WHITTINGHAM, TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE. 
 

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