In 'The Golden Age' "--(everybody looked at Columbus
immediately)--"In the 'Golden Age,'" continued Mr. Blyth, waving his
wand persuasively towards the right picture, "you have, in the
foreground-bushes, the middle-distance trees, the horizon mountains,
and the superincumbent sky, what I would fain hope is a tolerably
faithful transcript of mere nature. But in the group of buildings to
the right" (here the wand touched the architectural city, with its
acres of steps and forests of pillars), "in the dancing nymphs, and the
musing philosopher" (Mr. Blyth rapped the philosopher familiarly on the
head with the padded end of his wand), "you have the Ideal--the
elevating poetical view of ordinary objects, like cities, happy female
peasants, and thoughtful spectators. Thus nature is exalted; and thus
Art Pastoral--no!--thus Art Pastoral exalts--no! I beg your
pardon--thus Art Pastoral and Nature exalt each other, and--I beg your
pardon again!--in short, exalt each other--"
Here Valentine broke down at the end of a paragraph; and the gardener
made an abortive effort to get back to the doorway.
"Capital, Blyth!" cried Lady Brambledown. "Liberal, comprehensive,
progressive, profound. Gardener, don't fidget!"
"The true philosophy of art--the true philosophy of art, my lady,"
added Mr.
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