text:  "What a sad thing " Constable writes to Leslie "that this lovely art is so wrested to its own destruction! Used only to blind our eyes and to prevent us from seeing the sun shine the fields bloom the trees blossom the foliage rustle; while old black rubbed-out and dirty canvasses take the place of God's own works!" With his mind made up as to the course to be adopted Constable betook himself to the study of nature on the spot