The opinions here referred to are those of masters who have produced works of art. They seem to be supported by the opinions of able writers and philosophers who have dealt with this subject. If the opinions of these writers are less authoritative, they are nevertheless important as representing the thought of profound scholars. They cover practically the entire period of writing upon art. While diversified in the manner of approach, they will be found to unite in a common theory. These writers naturally deal with mental processes; with the attributes of the mind; with the philosophy of the subject.

Schopenhauer defines genius as pre-eminent capacity for contemplation which ends in the object. “Now,” he says, “as this requires that a man should entirely forget himself and the relations in which he stands, genius is simply complete objectivity, i.e., the objective tendency of the mind, as opposed to the subjective, which is directed to one’s own self—in other words, to the will. Thus genius is the faculty of continuing in the state of pure perception, of losing one’s self in perception, and of enlisting in this service the knowledge which originally existed only for the service of the will; that is to say, genius is the power of leaving one’s own interests, wishes, and aims entirely out of sight, and thus of entirely renouncing one’s own personality for a time, so as to remain pure knowing subject, clear vision of the world—and this not merely at moments, but for a sufficient length of time and with sufficient consciousness to enable one to reproduce by deliberate art what has thus been apprehended, and ‘to fix in lasting thoughts the wavering images that float before the mind.’”

Schopenhauer’s definition of genius is probably more accurate and more logical than that of any other writer. In his opinion, genius is the power of pre-eminent perception. The artist only exceeds his fellows in that his perception is keener; that he is able to see and understand more perfectly than others. When an able painter approaches nature in this spirit, forgetting all else, as Schopenhauer suggests, the result is usually a masterpiece. To such a painter is attributed the quality known as genius.

Taine defines art as the power of perceiving the essential character of an object. Taine says: “The character of an object strikes him [the artist] and the effect of this sensation is a strong, peculiar impression.... But art itself, which is the faculty of perceiving and expressing the leading character of objects, is as enduring as the civilization of which it is the best and earliest fruit.... To give full prominence to a leading character is the object of a work of art. It is owing to this that the closer a work of art approaches this point the more perfect it becomes; in other words, the more exactly and completely these conditions are complied with, the more elevated it becomes on the scale. Two of these conditions are necessary; it is necessary that the character should be the most notable possible and the most dominant possible.... The masterpiece is that in which the greatest force receives the greatest development. In the language of the painter, the superior work is that in which the character possessing the greatest possible value in nature receives from art all the increase in value that is possible.... It is essential, then, to closely imitate something in an object; but not everything.” After defining the essential quality by two illustrations—the illustration of the lion and the illustration of the dominant characteristics of a flat country like Holland, Taine continues: “Through its innumerable effects, you judge of the importance of this essential character. It is this which art must bring forward into proper light, and if this task devolves upon art it is because nature fails to accomplish it. In nature this essential character is simply dominant; it is the aim of art to render it predominant.... Man is sensible of this deficiency, and to remove it he has invented art.”

Froude touches upon this point in his reference to the art of the writer. He said he would turn to Shakespeare for the best history of England because of his (Shakespeare’s) absolute truth to character and event. “We wonder,” Froude wrote, “at the grandeur, the moral majesty, of some of Shakespeare’s characters, so far beyond what the noblest among ourselves can imitate, and at first thought we attribute it to the genius of the poet, who has outstripped Nature in his creations. But we are misunderstanding the power and the meaning of poetry in attributing creativeness to it in any such sense. Shakespeare created, but only as the spirit of Nature created around him, working in him as it worked abroad in those among whom he lived. The men whom he draws were such men as he saw and knew; the words they utter were such as he heard in the ordinary conversations in which he joined. At the Mermaid with Raleigh and with Sidney, and at a thousand unnamed English firesides, he found the living originals for his Prince Hals, his Orlandos, his Antonios, his Portias, his Isabellas. The closer personal acquaintance which we can form with the English of the age of Elizabeth, the more we are satisfied that Shakespeare’s great poetry is no more than the rhythmic echo of the life which it depicts.”

Baumgarten concluded, from Leibnitz’ theory of a pre-established harmony and its consequence, that the world is the best possible, that nature is the highest embodiment of beauty, and that art must seek as its highest function the strictest possible imitation of nature.

Bosanquet says: “The greatest degree of perfection was to be found, according to Leibnitz, in the existing universe, every other possible system being as a whole less perfect.”

Kant deals with a phase of this subject which is of great interest. In many strong works of art there remain incomplete and often unsatisfactory details. These are permitted to remain because the artist knows that to remove them would weaken or affect the strength of the whole. These, Kant says, are “only of necessity suffered to remain, because they could hardly be removed without loss of force to the idea. This courage has merit only in the case of a genius. A certain boldness of expression, and, in general, many a deviation from the common rule becomes him well; but in no sense is it a thing worthy of imitation. On the contrary it remains all through intrinsically a blemish which one is bound to try to remove, but for which the genius is, as it were, allowed to plead a privilege, on the ground that a scrupulous carefulness would spoil what is inimitable in the impetuous ardor of his soul.”

The genius here referred to by Kant is well understood and his power is fully recognized, but he is not separated from his fellow craftsmen except in the degree of his knowledge and ability. He is a man of superior ability and power who, driving straight to the object of his labor, represents character in a direct and forceful way. To this end he brings to his assistance his superior technical skill, but often in the very impetuosity of his ardor, as Kant suggests, he leaves unfinished parts because he well understands that to labor over these parts would be to reduce the force or power of the whole. This impetuous manner which strives to render the character of the object or person, or of the scene, or of the ephemeral effects of nature, quickly and directly, is well understood by the painter. I recall a large sketch of Daubigny’s owned by Mesdag, probably purchased from the painter. This sketch represents a green hillside with a canal and horses in the foreground. For absolute power and truth of beautiful quality and colour it was probably never surpassed by Daubigny, but it is what the public would call an unfinished picture. In truth, force, and beauty, it might fairly be considered “inspired” as compared with Daubigny’s finished or carefully painted pictures so widely known. In this painting there are many unsatisfactory parts, such as are referred to by Kant as “deformities,” but Daubigny well understood that to remove them or to work over this sketch, which was doubtless made rapidly in the presence of nature and under the influence of the particular mood expressed by nature, would have weakened its power.

I recall another painting that will illustrate this point—a study by Anton Mauve. This study was found among Mauve’s possessions after his death, and was probably never offered for sale during his lifetime because, in minor parts, it is incomplete. Rough lines of the original drawing were permitted to remain. These are the kind of blemishes to which Kant refers, but they do not detract from the supreme beauty and power of the study. Indeed, this picture is considered by many painters to be one of Mauve’s masterpieces, so true and just is it in the representation of a momentary effect in nature. Mauve doubtless recognized the importance of the study and refused to make corrections of minor defects. I have been told that he replied to Weissenbrouck, a fellow painter who urged him to finish this work: “I will leave it as God made it in nature. It is finished.” Mauve had secured the broad, essential truth of nature and with this he was content.

Maurice Maeterlinck tersely expressed the same thought when he said: “I myself have now for a long time ceased to look for anything more beautiful in this world, or more interesting, than the truth....”

The reader will not have failed to observe the significant note of agreement running through these opinions touching the importance of selection, the power to perceive and select from among the multitude of forms those which are exceptional or dominant.

“Pure perception”; “the faculty of perceiving and expressing the leading character of objects”; “In nature this essential character is simply dominant; it is the aim of art to render it predominant ...”; these expressions of philosophers are in perfect accord with the expressions of painters, as for instance, “The only thing is to see”; or “our only chance lies in selection and combination.”