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Excerpt from The Life of J. M. W. Turner, R. A
I know nothing of painting,' wrote Byron to Murray from the city of Titian and Giorgione, and I detest it, unless it reminds me of something I have seen, or think it possible to see, for which reason I spit upon and abhor all the saints and subjects of one half the impostures I see in the churches and palaces: and when in Flanders I never was so disgusted in my life as with Rubens and his eternal wives and infernal glare of colours, as they appeared to me, and in Spain I did not think much of Murillo and Velasquez. Depend upon it, of all tfie arts it is Me most artificial and unnatural, and that by which the innocence of mankind is most imposed upon. I never yet saw the picture or the statue which came a league within my conception or expectation.'
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