Coarse and undetailed, though talented, execution, has overspread every department of the British school. In the present branch, however, this manner seems especially misplaced. A landscape painting, more than any other, is viewed merely as a work of art. Consequently, the mind feels dissatisfied in the absence of those qualities of finished execution and delicate management, which constitute the essential value and character of art as such. The imitation requires not only to be general; but, to give entire pleasure, we must be enabled also to trace with ease minute and varied resemblances. The work thus affords almost the endless gratification of nature's own productions. But we shall not rest the objections to loose practice on grounds that might be disputed as a matter of dubious taste. The evil is not stayed in the effect, but endangers the very existence of its own rapid creations. Where the study is general effect only, the next object must necessarily be to produce that effect speedily: indeed, such a style completely excludes the care requisite to proper elaboration and transparent coloring. Hence tints are used, which soonest attain to the general end in view; but such tints are exactly those which fade the soonest. Hence the blackness, rawness, and want of harmony, in so many English landscapes. Hence, also, the clear and silvery tones which seem indestructible in the exquisitely finished landscapes of Claude, and the most eminent foreign artists. Generally, indeed, the best masters in this branch are decidedly those who have finished with due care. Of the works of our own school, those are also the most excellent as essays of genius, which are the most judiciously laboured as performances of art.