All these masters Veronese admired indiscriminately, as was fitting in a young painter who had never known other models than those of his own small city. He ran the danger of acquiring mannerisms and becoming an imitator. By a special grace accorded to genius alone, Veronese succeeded in remaining himself and borrowing nothing either from his predecessors or his contemporaries. From his contemplation of the works of the others he gained only a nobler passion for his art; and he altered nothing in the personal vision which he already formed of men and of things.
Vigorous, blessed with good health, jovial by nature, and much enamoured of the bright and sparkling side of life, Veronese fashioned his paintings in the image of his own temperament. His work was always an exaltation of the joy of living, an apology for those agreeable externals that render existence pleasant and easy; fine dwellings, flowers, copious repasts, women luxuriously apparelled, precious fabrics, horses and dogs of fine breed. If he wished to paint a _Last Supper_, it mattered little to him that legend and history agree regarding the simplicity and the humble station of Jesus and his disciples: History and tradition did not count with him. A repast, whatever it would be, he could not conceive of, unless around a sumptuous table, covered with costly vessels, served by attendants in picturesque costumes and enlivened by the antics of buffoons or the harmonies of music. It was thus that he painted Christ, it was after this original conception that he worked out his immortal compositions. Accordingly no one could justly appraise Veronese, without first setting aside, as he did, all those historic data which he voluntarily ignored.
There are few painters of whose private life so little is known as of that of Veronese. The contemporary documents have disappeared and scarcely anything more remains than a few of his letters; and even those are silent as to his day-by-day existence. All that it is possible to know--and to this his paintings abundantly bear witness--is that he was possessed of an agreeable humour, and a pleasing personality;--worthy gentleman, somewhat quick of temper and permitting no slight to be put upon his dignity, still less upon his honour. He was neither a sycophant nor a courtier, accepting commissions but never soliciting them. His "disinterestedness," writes Charles Yriarte, "has remained celebrated; during one entire period of his life, the greater part of the contracts which he signed with communities and with convents stipulate barely the value of his time as a remuneration for his work. This was before the time when painters were expected to furnish their colours and their canvases, but demanded only the price of their toil. Later on, having become, if not rich--that he never was,--at least celebrated and independent, he acquired a taste for personal luxury; he delighted in brilliant fabrics and wore them with ostentation; he loved horses, dogs, and hunting; he frequented high society, and brought to it that Italian open-heartedness which makes the company of the illustrious a relaxation and a pleasure rather than an embarrassment or an effort. He won valuable friendships and was able to retain them until his death."