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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cee8214 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52436 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52436) diff --git a/old/52436-0.txt b/old/52436-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 31782aa..0000000 --- a/old/52436-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9987 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifteen Discourses, by -Sir Joshua Reynolds and L. March Phillips - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Fifteen Discourses - -Author: Sir Joshua Reynolds - L. March Phillips - -Editor: Ernest Rhys - -Release Date: June 29, 2016 [EBook #52436] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN DISCOURSES *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - - Everyman, I will go with thee, and be thy guide, - In thy most need to go by thy side. - - - - This is No. 118 of Everyman’s Library. A list of authors and their - works in this series will be found at the end of this volume. The - publishers will be pleased to send freely to all applicants a - separate, annotated list of the Library. - - J. M. DENT & SONS LIMITED - 10-13 BEDFORD STREET LONDON W.C.2 - - E. P. DUTTON & CO. INC. - 286-302 FOURTH AVENUE - NEW YORK - - - - - - - EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY - EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS - - - ESSAYS - - - FIFTEEN DISCOURSES DELIVERED - IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS · INTRODUCTION - BY L. MARCH PHILLIPPS - - JOSHUA REYNOLDS, born in 1723 in Devonshire, the son of the Rev. - Samuel Reynolds. Lived at Plymouth, 1746-9, afterwards going to - Italy. Settled in London, 1752, becoming fashionable - portrait-painter. Founded the Literary Club. In 1768 the first - president of the Royal Academy. Died in 1792, and buried in St. - Paul’s. - - - - - FIFTEEN DISCOURSES - - [Illustration: colophon] - - SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS - - - LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS LTD. - NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. INC. - - _All rights reserved_ - - _Made in Great Britain - at The Temple Press Letchworth - and decorated by Eric Ravilious - for_ - - _J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd. - Aldine House Bedford St. London_ - _Toronto_ . _Vancouver_ - _Melbourne_ . _Wellington_ - - _First Published in this Edition 1906_ - _Reprinted 1928_ - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -THE most careless reader of these Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds will -be struck by their frequent slighting and depreciatory allusions to the -great Venetian colourists, and by the almost passionate note of warning -sounded in them against the teaching and influence of these masters. The -school of Venice is always referred to by Sir Joshua as the “decorative” -school; “mere elegance” is defined as its principal object, and its -“ornamental” character is affirmed to be totally inconsistent with any -achievement of the first order. Tintoret and Veronese are selected for -especial condemnation. “These are the persons who may be said to have -exhausted all the powers of florid eloquence to debauch the young and -inexperienced.” They have turned many painters “from those higher -excellences of which the art is capable, and which ought to be required -in every considerable production.” - -If we seek more particularly the ground of Sir Joshua’s dislike of the -Venetians, we shall find it in the fact that that school was, as he says -himself, “engrossed by the study of colour to the neglect of the ideal -beauty of form.” Ideal beauty of form constituted, in Sir Joshua’s view, -the only possible really noble motive in art. He never for a moment, in -criticism and theory, admitted the possibility of colour constituting -such a motive. Colour, in his judgment, remained always a quite -secondary and merely decorative affair, while the true greatness of the -painting depended entirely on its excellence as a study of form. In one -of his letters to the _Idler_ he pushes this view to such a length, and -so entirely confines the idea of beauty to form, and form alone, that he -actually asserts that the colour of a thing can have no more to do with -its beauty than its smell has. - -If it were an ordinary critic who wrote and reasoned thus, we should -pass by his judgments as indicative merely of a totally defective colour -sense. But to suppose that Reynolds, of all men, was defective in this -respect would be absurd. The extraordinary thing about him is that no -sooner had he passed from the lecture-room to his own studio than he -proceeded to demonstrate in his work his own intense appreciation of -that insidious school of colour against which he was never tired of -warning his hearers. He was himself one of those victims whom Tintoret -and Veronese had “debauched.” He had stayed in Venice but a few weeks, -in Rome two years, and yet the example of the Venetians had made -incalculably the deeper impression upon him. With all the force of his -judgment and reason he approved the teaching of Michael Angelo, but with -a warmth which had more of emotion in it he adored the great colourists. -Into the examination of the methods by which these had obtained their -effects he threw himself with an energy which amounted to downright -excitement, and to his thirst for information sacrificed even the -paintings that so allured him, rubbing and scraping away, as we are -told, the impasto of several valuable pictures in order that he might -investigate the composition of the successive layers of colour. His own -ceaseless experiments in colour effects and the use into which he was -led of refractory pigments, resulting too often in the cracking or -peeling of his pictures, are a further testimony to the hold which, -entirely against his will, Venice exerted over him. He recognised it -himself even while he submitted to it. In the last words addressed by -him to the Academicians there is a pathetic consciousness of what he -seems to have felt as his own disloyalty in not sticking in practice to -that greatness which his reason always assured him was pre-eminent. He -could claim to be an admirer only, not a follower, of Michael Angelo. “I -have taken another course, one more suited to my abilities and to the -taste of the times in which I live. Yet,” he exclaims contritely, -“however unequal I feel myself to that attempt, were I now to begin the -world again I would tread in the steps of that great master; to kiss -the hem of his garment, to catch the slightest of his perfections, -would be glory and distinction enough for an ambitious man.” - -In practice devoted to Venice, in theory despising her; in practice -ignoring the great Florentines, in theory strenuously upholding their -ideals: such are the contradictions one meets with in Sir Joshua -Reynolds, and certainly his judgments, and these lectures in which they -are contained, will never be rightly understood until a clue to these -contradictions be found. - -Let us remember, in the first place, that down to the eighteenth century -the native art of England had been essentially an art of form. The great -Gothic creative epoch had exhibited its energy and power in architecture -and sculpture alone. No great school of painting arose in the North to -vie with the varied and rich productions of the builders and sculptors -of that age. Such colour as was used was used in a subordinate or, to -use Sir Joshua’s word, a “decorative” sense--to enrich, that is, and add -a brilliance to form. But it was in form only, whether structural, as in -the great cathedrals, or statuesque, as in the innumerable and beautiful -figures and effigies which adorn or repose in them, or expressed in the -carved likeness of flowers and foliage and animals and birds--it was in -form, I say, only that the Gothic genius displayed its real power and -initiative. - -And this being so, the nature of the contributions which the Gothic -nations were to make to pictorial art might almost, perhaps, have been -foreseen. Drawing rather than painting gave them the effects they -sought, and the art of wood engraving became in their hands a natural -and popular mode of expression. The powerful black line of the graver -was found to be extraordinarily effective in delineating mere form, and -accordingly in this new art, first started in Europe about the beginning -of the fifteenth century, the Gothic races, however hopelessly behind in -delineation by colour, took the lead. They treated it, indeed, quite -frankly, not as a pictorial but as a sculptural representation. That is -to say, they ignored aerial perspective and effects of light and shade -altogether, and made no attempt to produce the illusion to the eye of a -represented scene or landscape. On the other hand, each figure, or -object, or animal was outlined with extraordinary clearness and force, -as if it were being designed for a carving in relief. One has but to -turn from the sculptured work in wood or stone to the wood engravings of -the same period to recognise the similarity in spirit between the two, -and realise how thoroughly genuine a product of its age the art of -engraving was. It carried on the Gothic temper and characteristic view -of nature and life. It loved the same direct and literal statements, and -its sole preoccupation was how to express them with as much -matter-of-fact precision as possible and invest them with all the air of -positive realities. Moreover, the art, as it was developed in the North, -betrays the same strong popular sympathies that run through all Gothic -art. The same perception belongs to it of the significance and interest -of all homely objects and scenes, and it loves to depict in the same way -the details of the life and labour of the common people. And if it -cannot give to these things the actual reality of concrete form, it -still endeavours to attain this end so far as can possibly be done by -outline. Its instinct is always to treat its subjects as things, never -as appearances. - -Wood engraving, then, carries on directly the great Gothic movement, and -is part of that movement. It continues to apply to life that measure of -_form_ which had hitherto so completely satisfied the Northern nations, -but which was soon to satisfy them no longer. Moreover, although this -splendid Gothic outburst of formative and structural art by degrees -waned and spent itself, yet still it remained the only aspect of art of -which the North had cognisance. The influence of the Renaissance was for -long accepted in the North as a structural influence only. In England -painting remained a dead letter, and on the Continent the only notable -school which arose, the Dutch school, was remarkable for just the -characteristics which had always distinguished Northern art--a love of -the facts of common life and a close, exact, and literal representation -of form. In short, if we were to take our stand in the middle of the -eighteenth century we should find stretching behind us the long history -of an art which had developed with unexampled vigour all the resources -of form, but which had never been really warmed and suffused by any -great conception of the value of colour. This was the atmosphere and -world of art into which Sir Joshua was born, and of which his criticism -is the outcome. - -I will ask the reader now, in this brief survey of ours of the currents -that are carrying us on to the moment of Reynolds’s life and influence, -to turn his eyes southward to Italy, where he will perceive an -altogether new element in art gathering head and preparing to exert an -influence contrary to the old influence of form over the rest of Europe. - -I have always thought myself that, as the intellectual and -matter-of-fact qualities of the Western mind are especially embodied in -form, so the emotional and sensuous qualities of the Eastern mind are -embodied, or find expression, in colour. However that may be, it would -seem to be certain that a conception of the possibilities of colour -quite unknown in Europe previously was gradually introduced into Italy -during the centuries which ensued between the collapse of classic Rome -and the rise of the Gothic nationalities by Byzantine artists and -architects arriving from Constantinople and the Eastern empires. This -new use of colour, contributed by the East, and which was to take -deepest root wherever the influence of the East had been most firmly -established, is, moreover, quite easy to understand and define. Gothic -colour was used, as I have said, subordinately to form and as one of -form’s attributes, its range and limits being exactly defined by the -body of those objects it belongs to. Oriental colour, on the other hand, -is used quite differently. Instead of being handled by form, it is -handled by light and shade, and with the help of light and shade it is -at once enabled to overcome the limitations of form and to develop a -rich and ample scheme of its own extending through the whole -composition. The marks of colour used in this sense are, I believe, -invariably these two: (1) It always employs its warmest and richest -hues; (2) it always melts away the edges and exactitudes of form, and -suffuses them all in a universal sunny glow. - -It was in the interiors of their mosaic churches, swathed in mellow -gold, inlaid with rich colours, and always deeply and darkly shadowed, -that the Byzantine architects best embodied this Oriental conception of -colour effect, and the whole of Italy was to some extent warmed by their -glow. But it was in Venice, where the influence of the East was always -paramount, and where the most splendid of all these mosaic churches -glowed and glittered in the midst of the city, that the example had -strongest and most definite effect. Here it grafted itself and bore -fruit, and in the city which for so many centuries had sucked -nourishment from Eastern sources there arose in due time a school of -painting in which all the great characteristics of Oriental colour are -exhibited. - -This school it was which took Reynolds captive. But in yielding to -colour of this kind he was not yielding to decorative colour. The rich, -suffused colour on the canvas of a Tintoret or a Titian is not -decorative colour at all. It is emotional colour, colour used to instil -a sensation and a feeling, not to define an object. Will the reader -compare in his mind the inside of St. Mark’s at Venice with the inside -of St. Peter’s at Rome? Both make much use of colour, but in St. Mark’s -the colour appears as a pervading deep and rich glow, governed and -controlled by light and shade; in St. Peter’s it appears as a -complicated pattern of variously cut marbles exposed in clear daylight. -This last is the decorative use of colour, and excites no feeling at -all. The former is the emotional use of it, and both excites and -satisfies deep feeling. The same difference is apparent between colour -as dealt with by the Venetian painters and colour as dealt with by the -Northern nations before Venice’s influence had been felt. - -Bearing these facts in mind, the theory and the practice of Reynolds -both gain in significance. He came at the moment when the spread of that -Eastern ideal of colouring, which had already been carried here and -there through Europe, had become possible in England. He has himself -drawn attention to this tendency it possessed to overflow and extend -into other nations. “By them,” he says--that is, by Tintoret and -Veronese especially--“a style merely ornamental has been disseminated -throughout all Europe. Rubens carried it into Flanders, Voet to France, -and Lucca Giordano to Spain and Naples.” To which he might have added, -“and I myself to England.” - -From the point of view of his work and example, Reynolds is to be -considered as the instrument of destiny appointed to a great end, while -at the same time his own slighting and inadequate criticism of this kind -of colour and his humble contrition for having been led astray by it are -not, if we remember his date, unintelligible. For, having behind him a -national past throughout which form, and the intellectual associations -suggested by form, ruled paramount, and in which the only recognised -function of colour had been its decorative function, it must seem to be -inevitable that, however natural an aptitude he may have possessed for -judging the grandeur of form, he could have possessed little for -appraising the effects of colour. The truth is that he applies to colour -used as the Venetians used it exactly the kind of criticism which he -might have applied to it as it was used all through the Gothic epoch. It -was inbred in Reynolds that colour must be and could be only a property -of form--must and could be, that is to say, only decorative. To this -formula he returns again and again, and however inapplicable it may seem -to the mighty Venetian canvases, we have only to put ourselves in -Reynolds’s time and place to perceive that the use of it was natural and -inevitable. - -But all this represented, after all, only his conscious criticism and -reasoning. Form is intellectual, colour emotional, and if intellectually -Sir Joshua remained true to the first, emotionally he abandoned himself -entirely to the last. Venice never conquered his reason, but she -conquered his instincts and feelings and affections, and, for all that -reason could do, for thirty years, from his return from Italy until his -death, he poured forth work which owes all its power and charm to that -very glow and suffusion of colour which year by year he denounced to the -pupils of the Royal Academy as a delusion and a snare. It seems to me -that this conquest of Sir Joshua Reynolds, in spite of all his protests -and in defiance of all his reasoning, is about the most remarkable proof -extant of the irresistible influence which emotional colouring can -exert. - -Well, then, turning to these Discourses, let us say at once that all the -strictures on the great colourists which they contain do not constitute -a real valuation of colour at all, but only a valuation of it by one -bred in traditions of form. They have, indeed, their own great interest. -They enable us to realise, more vividly than anything else I can think -of, the limitations and one-sidedness of art in England in the days -before Reynolds’s own painting achievements had helped to lay the basis -of a truer standard in criticism than any he himself possessed or could -possess. Here their interest is unique. But as criticism we may pass -them by. No one, indeed, has refuted them more ably than Sir Joshua -himself. His real and genuine estimate of colour is to be found, not in -what he said, but in what he did. - -On the other hand, perhaps the very solidity and unity of that great -Northern tradition which stretched behind him gave a simplicity and -power to his analysis of form which it would scarcely in a later day -have possessed. Certainly I do not know where else in English art -criticism are to be found such clear and weighty definitions of what -grandeur of style consists in as occur throughout these Discourses. The -principle of the selection of essential traits, or those common to the -species, together with the elimination of accidental ones, or those -peculiar to the individual, which may be said to underlie his whole -theory of the grand style, is indeed that principle on which art itself -is founded, and the recognition of which has made the difference in all -ages between the cultured and ignorant, between the artist who -simplifies and the artist who complicates, between Greek and barbarian. -It is little to the point to say that this principle is already familiar -to us, and that we have no need of further instruction in it, for it is -with this as with other truths that matter, which become dimmed and -stale in the world, and lose their meaning and have to be reaffirmed -from time to time by some great teacher with emphasis and power. - -It is in their powerful handling of first principles in all that regards -form that the value of these lectures lies. It is this also which gives -them for the present age their character of an antidote. There are times -during which the national life, uncertain and fluctuating in convictions -and aims, is incapable of inspiring art with any definite impulse -whatsoever. These, for art, are melancholy days--days divested of all -tradition and agreement--which it occupies rather in experimenting on -its own methods and processes than in producing definite constructive -work. Such experiments, however, are taken very seriously by -contemporaries, and all kinds of ingenious, far-fetched tricks are -played in paint or marble with as much zeal as if they formed part of a -genuine creative movement. Art criticism, it is needless to say, follows -the lead of art, and analyses these fugitive individual experiments as -solemnly as if they were an authentic expression of the life of their -age. The combined effect of this kind of art and this kind of art -criticism on a disinterested stranger would probably be that, far from -conceiving of art as a very important and vitally human affair, he would -conclude that it was an extremely clever and ingenious kind of juggling, -which, however interesting to cliques and coteries, could be no concern -of mankind in general. - -There is no doubt that the best way, or only way, of counteracting this -tendency to triviality, to which in an experimental age we are liable, -is now and then to have recourse to those primitive and fixed principles -of art which are the same in all ages, and obedience to which alone -constitutes a passport to the regard of all ages. Only, in order that -such principles may be made acceptable and attractive, it is essential -that they should be treated with that directness and simplicity which an -intimate consciousness of their truth inspires. They are so treated in -these Discourses, and the consequence of their being so treated is that -just as a reader wearied by the trivialities of contemporary poetry or -the arguments of contemporary theology may find rest and refreshment by -turning over a page or two of Wordsworth or Thomas à Kempis, so in -something the same way at least, though perhaps in a less degree, he may -be brought closer again to the reality he had lost touch of in matters -of art by turning from the art criticism of the newspapers to the -lectures of Sir Joshua Reynolds. - - Discourses delivered in the Royal Academy, 1769-1791 (published - separately). - - Seven Discourses delivered in the Royal Academy (1769-76), 1778. - Edited by H. Morley (Cassell’s National Library), 1888. - - Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Ed. E. Gosse, 1884. - - Ed. H. Zimmern (Camelot Classics), 1887. - - Works: Ed. G. Malone, 2 vols., 1797, 1798. - - Complete Works, 3 vols., 1824. - - Ed. H. W. Beechey, 2 vols., 1835; 1852 (Bohn). (Works include “A - Journey to Flanders and Holland,” Annotations on Du Fresnoy’s “Art - of Painting,” and three letters to the _Idler_, 1759, on Painting, - and the True Idea of Beauty.) - - Sir Joshua Reynolds and his Works (Gleanings from Diary, - unpublished MSS., &c.), by W. Cotton. Ed. J. Barnet, 1856. - - - - -PREFACE TO DISCOURSE I. - -TO THE MEMBERS - -OF - -THE ROYAL ACADEMY - - -GENTLEMEN, - -THAT you have ordered the publication of this discourse is not only very -flattering to me, as it implies your approbation of the method of study -which I have recommended; but, likewise, as this method receives from -that act such an additional weight and authority, as demands from the -students that deference and respect which can be due only to the united -sense of so considerable a body of artists. - - I am, - - With the greatest esteem and respect, - - Gentlemen, - - Your most humble - - and obedient Servant, - - JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - - - -DISCOURSE I - -_Delivered at the opening of the Royal Academy, January 2, 1769._ - - The Advantages proceeding from the Institution of a Royal - Academy.--Hints offered to the Consideration of the Professors and - Visitors;--That an Implicit Obedience to the Rules of Art be - exacted from the Young Students;--That a Premature Disposition to a - Masterly Dexterity be repressed;--That Diligence be constantly - recommended, and (that it may be effectual) directed to its Proper - Object. - - -GENTLEMEN, - -An Academy, in which the Polite Arts may be regularly cultivated, is at -last opened among us by Royal munificence. This must appear an event in -the highest degree interesting, not only to the artists, but to the -whole nation. - -It is indeed difficult to give any other reason, why an empire like that -of Britain should so long have wanted an ornament so suitable to its -greatness, than that slow progression of things, which naturally makes -elegance and refinement the last effect of opulence and power. - -An institution like this has often been recommended upon considerations -merely mercantile; but an Academy, founded upon such principles, can -never effect even its own narrow purposes. If it has an origin no -higher, no taste can ever be formed in manufactures; but if the higher -Arts of Design flourish, these inferior ends will be answered of course. - -We are happy in having a Prince, who has conceived the design of such an -institution, according to its true dignity; and who promotes the Arts, -as the head of a great, a learned, a polite, and a commercial nation; -and I can now congratulate you, gentlemen, on the accomplishment of your -long and ardent wishes. - -The numberless and ineffectual consultations which I have had with many -in this assembly, to form plans and concert schemes for an Academy, -afford a sufficient proof of the impossibility of succeeding but by the -influence of Majesty. But there have, perhaps, been times, when even the -influence of Majesty would have been ineffectual; and it is pleasing to -reflect, that we are thus embodied, when every circumstance seems to -concur from which honour and prosperity can probably arise. - -There are, at this time, a greater number of excellent artists than were -ever known before at one period in this nation; there is a general -desire among our nobility to be distinguished as lovers and judges of -the Arts; there is a greater superfluity of wealth among the people to -reward the professors; and, above all, we are patronised by a monarch, -who, knowing the value of science and of elegance, thinks every art -worthy of his notice, that tends to soften and humanise the mind. - -After so much has been done by his Majesty, it will be wholly our fault, -if our progress is not in some degree correspondent to the wisdom and -generosity of the Institution: let us show our gratitude in our -diligence, that, though our merit may not answer his expectations, yet, -at least, our industry may deserve his protection. - -But whatever may be our proportion of success, of this we may be sure, -that the present Institution will at least contribute to advance our -knowledge of the Arts, and bring us nearer to that ideal excellence, -which it is the lot of genius always to contemplate and never to -attain. - -The principal advantage of an Academy is, that, besides furnishing able -men to direct the student, it will be a repository for the great -examples of the Art. These are the materials on which genius is to work, -and without which the strongest intellect may be fruitlessly or -deviously employed. By studying these authentic models, that idea of -excellence which is the result of the accumulated experience of past -ages, may be at once acquired; and the tardy and obstructed progress of -our predecessors may teach us a shorter and easier way. The student -receives, at one glance, the principles which many artists have spent -their whole lives in ascertaining; and, satisfied with their effect, is -spared the painful investigation by which they came to be known and -fixed. How many men of great natural abilities have been lost to this -nation, for want of these advantages! They never had an opportunity of -seeing those masterly efforts of genius, which at once kindle the whole -soul, and force it into sudden and irresistible approbation. - -Raffaelle, it is true, had not the advantage of studying in an Academy; -but all Rome, and the works of Michael Angelo in particular, were to him -an academy. On the sight of the Capella Sistina, he immediately from a -dry, Gothic, and even insipid manner, which attends to the minute -accidental discriminations of particular and individual objects, assumed -that grand style of painting, which improves partial representation by -the general and invariable ideas of nature. - -Every seminary of learning may be said to be surrounded with an -atmosphere of floating knowledge, where every mind may imbibe somewhat -congenial to its own original conceptions. Knowledge, thus obtained, has -always something more popular and useful than that which is forced upon -the mind by private precepts, or solitary meditation. Besides, it is -generally found, that a youth more easily receives instruction from the -companions of his studies, whose minds are nearly on a level with his -own, than from those who are much his superiors; and it is from his -equals only that he catches the fire of emulation. - -One advantage, I will venture to affirm, we shall have in our Academy, -which no other nation can boast. We shall have nothing to unlearn. To -this praise the present race of artists have a just claim. As far as -they have yet proceeded, they are right. With us the exertions of genius -will henceforward be directed to their proper objects. It will not be as -it has been in other schools, where he that travelled fastest only -wandered farthest from the right way. - -Impressed, as I am, therefore, with such a favourable opinion of my -associates in this undertaking, it would ill become me to dictate to any -of them. But as these institutions have so often failed in other -nations; and as it is natural to think with regret, how much might have -been done, I must take leave to offer a few hints, by which those errors -may be rectified, and those defects supplied. These the professors and -visitors may reject or adopt as they shall think proper. - -I would chiefly recommend, that an implicit obedience to the _Rules of -Art_, as established by the practice of the great masters, should be -exacted from the _young_ students. That those models, which have passed -through the approbation of ages, should be considered by them as perfect -and infallible guides; as subjects for their imitation, not their -criticism. - -I am confident, that this is the only efficacious method of making a -progress in the Arts; and that he who sets out with doubting, will find -life finished before he becomes master of the rudiments. For it may be -laid down as a maxim, that he who begins by presuming on his own sense, -has ended his studies as soon as he has commenced them. Every -opportunity, therefore, should be taken to discountenance that false and -vulgar opinion, that rules are the fetters of genius; they are fetters -only to men of no genius; as that armour, which upon the strong is an -ornament and a defence, upon the weak and mis-shapen becomes a load, and -cripples the body which it was made to protect. - -How much liberty may be taken to break through those rules, and, as the -poet expresses it, - - To snatch a grace beyond the reach of art, - -may be a subsequent consideration, when the pupils become masters -themselves. It is then, when their genius has received its utmost -improvement, that rules may possibly be dispensed with. But let us not -destroy the scaffold, until we have raised the building. - -The directors ought more particularly to watch over the genius of those -students, who, being more advanced, are arrived at that critical period -of study, on the nice management of which their future turn of taste -depends. At that age it is natural for them to be more captivated with -what is brilliant, than with what is solid, and to prefer splendid -negligence to painful and humiliating exactness. - -A facility in composing,--a lively, and what is called a masterly, -handling of the chalk or pencil, are, it must be confessed, captivating -qualities to young minds, and become of course the objects of their -ambition. They endeavour to imitate these dazzling excellences, which -they will find no great labour in attaining. After much time spent in -these frivolous pursuits, the difficulty will be to retreat; but it will -be then too late; and there is scarce an instance of return to -scrupulous labour, after the mind has been debauched and deceived by -this fallacious mastery. - -By this useless industry they are excluded from all power of advancing -in real excellence. Whilst boys, they are arrived at their utmost -perfection; they have taken the shadow for the substance; and make the -mechanical felicity the chief excellence of the art, which is only an -ornament, and of the merit of which few but painters themselves are -judges. - -This seems to me to be one of the most dangerous sources of corruption; -and I speak of it from experience, not as an error which may possibly -happen, but which has actually infected all foreign academies. The -directors were probably pleased with this premature dexterity in their -pupils, and praised their dispatch at the expense of their correctness. - -But young men have not only this frivolous ambition of being thought -masters of execution inciting them on one hand, but also their natural -sloth tempting them on the other. They are terrified at the prospect -before them, of the toil required to attain exactness. The impetuosity -of youth is disgusted at the slow approaches of a regular siege, and -desires, from mere impatience of labour, to take the citadel by storm. -They wish to find some shorter path to excellence, and hope to obtain -the reward of eminence by other means than those, which the -indispensable rules of art have prescribed. They must therefore be told -again and again, that labour is the only price of solid fame, and that -whatever their force of genius may be, there is no easy method of -becoming a good painter. - -When we read the lives of the most eminent painters, every page informs -us, that no part of their time was spent in dissipation. Even an -increase of fame served only to augment their industry. To be convinced -with what persevering assiduity they pursued their studies, we need -only reflect on their method of proceeding in their most celebrated -works. When they conceived a subject, they first made a variety of -sketches; then a finished drawing of the whole; after that a more -correct drawing of every separate part,--heads, hands, feet, and pieces -of drapery; they then painted the picture, and after all re-touched it -from the life. The pictures, thus wrought with such pains, now appear -like the effect of enchantment, and as if some mighty genius had struck -them off at a blow. - -But, whilst diligence is thus recommended to the students, the visitors -will take care that their diligence be effectual; that it be well -directed, and employed on the proper object. A student is not always -advancing because he is employed; he must apply his strength to that -part of the art where the real difficulties lie; to that part which -distinguishes it as a liberal art; and not by mistaken industry lose his -time in that which is merely ornamental. The students, instead of vying -with each other which shall have the readiest hand, should be taught to -contend who shall have the purest and most correct outline; instead of -striving which shall produce the brightest tint, or curiously trifling, -shall give the gloss of stuffs, so as to appear real, let their ambition -be directed to contend, which shall dispose his drapery in the most -graceful folds, which shall give the most grace and dignity to the human -figure. - -I must beg leave to submit one thing more to the consideration of the -visitors, which appears to me a matter of very great consequence, and -the omission of which I think a principal defect in the method of -education pursued in all the academies I have ever visited. The error I -mean is, that the students never draw exactly from the living models -which they have before them. It is not indeed their intention; nor are -they directed to do it. Their drawings resemble the model only in the -attitude. They change the form according to their vague and uncertain -ideas of beauty, and make a drawing rather of what they think the figure -ought to be, than of what it appears. I have thought this the obstacle -that has stopped the progress of many young men of real genius; and I -very much doubt, whether a habit of drawing correctly what we see, will -not give a proportionable power of drawing correctly what we imagine. He -who endeavours to copy nicely the figure before him, not only acquires a -habit of exactness and precision, but is continually advancing in his -knowledge of the human figure; and though he seems to superficial -observers to make a slower progress, he will be found at last capable of -adding (without running into capricious wildness) that grace and beauty, -which is necessary to be given to his more finished works, and which -cannot be got by the moderns, as it was not acquired by the ancients, -but by an attentive and well compared study of the human form. - -What I think ought to enforce this method is, that it has been the -practice (as may be seen by their drawings) of the great Masters in the -Art. I will mention a drawing of Raffaelle, _The Dispute of the -Sacrament_, the print of which, by Count Cailus, is in every hand. It -appears, that he made his sketch from one model; and the habit he had of -drawing exactly from the form before him appears by his making all the -figures with the same cap, such as his model then happened to wear; so -servile a copyist was this great man, even at a time when he was allowed -to be at his highest pitch of excellence. - -I have seen also academy figures by Annibale Caracci, though he was -often sufficiently licentious in his finished works, drawn with all the -peculiarities of an individual model. - -This scrupulous exactness is so contrary to the practice of the -academies, that it is not without great deference, that I beg leave to -recommend it to the consideration of the visitors; and submit to them, -whether the neglect of this method is not one of the reasons why -students so often disappoint expectation, and, being more than boys at -sixteen, become less than men at thirty. - -In short, the method I recommend can only be detrimental where there are -but few living forms to copy; for then students, by always drawing from -one alone, will by habit be taught to overlook defects, and mistake -deformity for beauty. But of this there is no danger; since the Council -has determined to supply the Academy with a variety of subjects; and -indeed those laws which they have drawn up, and which the Secretary will -presently read for your confirmation, have in some measure precluded me -from saying more upon this occasion. Instead, therefore, of offering my -advice, permit me to indulge my wishes, and express my hope, that this -institution may answer the expectation of its Royal founder; that the -present age may vie in Arts with that of Leo the Tenth; and that _the -dignity of the dying Art_ (to make use of an expression of Pliny) may be -revived under the reign of George the Third. - - - - -DISCOURSE II - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 11, 1769._ - - The Course and Order of Study.--The Different Stages of Art.--Much - Copying discountenanced.--The Artist at all Times and in all Places - should be employed in laying up Materials for the Exercise of his - Art. - - - GENTLEMEN, - -I CONGRATULATE you on the honour which you have just received. I have -the highest opinion of your merits, and could wish to show my sense of -them in something which possibly may be more useful to you than barren -praise. I could wish to lead you into such a course of study as may -render your future progress answerable to your past improvement; and, -whilst I applaud you for what has been done, remind you how much yet -remains to attain perfection. - -I flatter myself, that from the long experience I have had, and the -unceasing assiduity with which I have pursued those studies, in which, -like you, I have been engaged, I shall be acquitted of vanity in -offering some hints to your consideration. They are indeed in a great -degree founded upon my own mistakes in the same pursuit. But the history -of errors, properly managed, often shortens the road to truth. And -although no method of study that I can offer, will of itself conduct to -excellence, yet it may preserve industry from being misapplied. - -In speaking to you of the Theory of the Art, I shall only consider it as -it has a relation to the _method_ of your studies. - -Dividing the study of painting into three distinct periods, I shall -address you as having passed through the first of them, which is -confined to the rudiments; including a facility of drawing any object -that presents itself, a tolerable readiness in the management of -colours, and an acquaintance with the most simple and obvious rules of -composition. - -This first degree of proficiency is, in painting, what grammar is in -literature, a general preparation for whatever species of the art the -student may afterwards choose for his more particular application. The -power of drawing, modelling, and using colours, is very properly called -the language of the art; and in this language, the honours you have just -received prove you to have made no inconsiderable progress. - -When the artist is once enabled to express himself with some degree of -correctness, he must then endeavour to collect subjects for expression; -to amass a stock of ideas, to be combined and varied as occasion may -require. He is now in the second period of study, in which his business -is to learn all that has been known and done before his own time. Having -hitherto received instructions from a particular master, he is now to -consider the Art itself as his master. He must extend his capacity to -more sublime and general instructions. Those perfections which lie -scattered among various masters are now united in one general idea, -which is henceforth to regulate his taste, and enlarge his imagination. -With a variety of models thus before him, he will avoid that narrowness -and poverty of conception which attends a bigoted admiration of a single -master, and will cease to follow any favourite where he ceases to excel. -This period is, however, still a time of subjection and discipline. -Though the student will not resign himself blindly to any single -authority, when he may have the advantage of consulting many, he must -still be afraid of trusting his own judgment, and of deviating into any -track where he cannot find the footsteps of some former master. - -The third and last period emancipates the student from subjection to any -authority, but what he shall himself judge to be supported by reason. -Confiding now in his own judgment, he will consider and separate those -different principles to which different modes of beauty owe their -original. In the former period he sought only to know and combine -excellence, wherever it was to be found, into one idea of perfection: in -this, he learns, what requires the most attentive survey and the most -subtle disquisition, to discriminate perfections that are incompatible -with each other. - -He is from this time to regard himself as holding the same rank with -those masters whom he before obeyed as teachers; and as exercising a -sort of sovereignty over those rules which have hitherto restrained him. -Comparing now no longer the performances of Art with each other, but -examining the Art itself by the standard of nature, he corrects what is -erroneous, supplies what is scanty, and adds by his own observation what -the industry of his predecessors may have yet left wanting to -perfection. Having well established his judgment, and stored his memory, -he may now without fear try the power of his imagination. The mind that -has been thus disciplined, may be indulged in the warmest enthusiasm, -and venture to play on the borders of the wildest extravagance. The -habitual dignity which long converse with the greatest minds has -imparted to him will display itself in all his attempts; and he will -stand among his instructors, not as an imitator, but a rival. - -These are the different stages of the Art. But as I now address myself -particularly to those students who have been this day rewarded for their -happy passage through the first period, I can with no propriety suppose -they want any help in the initiatory studies. My present design is to -direct your view to distant excellence, and to show you the readiest -path that leads to it. Of this I shall speak with such latitude, as may -leave the province of the professor uninvaded; and shall not anticipate -those precepts, which it is his business to give, and your duty to -understand. - -It is indisputably evident that a great part of every man’s life must be -employed in collecting materials for the exercise of genius. Invention, -strictly speaking, is little more than a new combination of those images -which have been previously gathered and deposited in the memory: nothing -can come of nothing: he who has laid up no materials, can produce no -combinations. - -A student unacquainted with the attempts of former adventurers is always -apt to overrate his own abilities; to mistake the most trifling -excursions for discoveries of moment, and every coast new to him, for a -new-found country. If by chance he passes beyond his usual limits, he -congratulates his own arrival at those regions which they who have -steered a better course have long left behind them. - -The productions of such minds are seldom distinguished by an air of -originality: they are anticipated in their happiest efforts; and if they -are found to differ in anything from their predecessors, it is only in -irregular sallies, and trifling conceits. The more extensive therefore -your acquaintance is with the works of those who have excelled, the more -extensive will be your powers of invention; and what may appear still -more like a paradox, the more original will be your conceptions. But the -difficulty on this occasion is to determine what ought to be proposed as -models of excellence, and who ought to be considered as the properest -guides. - -To a young man just arrived in Italy, many of the present painters of -that country are ready enough to obtrude their precepts, and to offer -their own performances as examples of that perfection which they affect -to recommend. The modern, however, who recommends _himself_ as a -standard, may justly be suspected as ignorant of the true end, and -unacquainted with the proper object, of the art which he professes. To -follow such a guide, will not only retard the student, but mislead him. - -On whom then can he rely, or who shall show him the path that leads to -excellence? The answer is obvious: those great masters who have -travelled the same road with success are the most likely to conduct -others. The works of those who have stood the test of ages, have a claim -to that respect and veneration to which no modern can pretend. The -duration and stability of their fame is sufficient to evince that it has -not been suspended upon the slender thread of fashion and caprice, but -bound to the human heart by every tie of sympathetic approbation. - -There is no danger of studying too much the works of those great men; -but how they may be studied to advantage is an inquiry of great -importance. - -Some who have never raised their minds to the consideration of the real -dignity of the Art, and who rate the works of an artist in proportion as -they excel or are defective in the mechanical parts, look on theory as -something that may enable them to talk but not to paint better; and -confining themselves entirely to mechanical practice, very assiduously -toil on in the drudgery of copying; and think they make a rapid progress -while they faithfully exhibit the minutest part of a favourite picture. -This appears to me a very tedious, and I think a very erroneous method -of proceeding. Of every large composition, even of those which are most -admired, a great part may be truly said to be _commonplace_. This, -though it takes up much time in copying, conduces little to improvement. -I consider general copying as a delusive kind of industry; the student -satisfies himself with the appearance of doing something; he falls into -the dangerous habit of imitating without selecting, and of labouring -without any determinate object; as it requires no effort of the mind, he -sleeps over his work; and those powers of invention and composition -which ought particularly to be called out, and put in action, lie -torpid, and lose their energy for want of exercise. - -How incapable those are of producing anything of their own, who have -spent much of their time in making finished copies, is well known to all -who are conversant with our art. - -To suppose that the complication of powers, and variety of ideas -necessary to that mind which aspires to the first honours in the art of -painting, can be obtained by the frigid contemplation of a few single -models, is no less absurd, than it would be in him who wishes to be a -poet, to imagine that by translating a tragedy he can acquire to himself -sufficient knowledge of the appearances of nature, the operations of the -passions, and the incidents of life. - -The great use in copying, if it be at all useful, should seem to be in -learning to colour; yet even colouring will never be perfectly attained -by servilely copying the model before you. An eye critically nice can -only be formed by observing well-coloured pictures with attention; and -by close inspection, and minute examination, you will discover, at last, -the manner of handling, the artifices of contrast, glazing, and other -expedients, by which good colourists have raised the value of their -tints, and by which nature has been so happily imitated. - -I must inform you, however, that old pictures deservedly celebrated for -their colouring, are often so changed by dirt and varnish, that we ought -not to wonder if they do not appear equal to their reputation in the -eyes of inexperienced painters, or young students. An artist whose -judgment is matured by long observation, considers rather what the -picture once was, than what it is at present. He has by habit acquired a -power of seeing the brilliancy of tints through the cloud by which it is -obscured. An exact imitation, therefore, of those pictures, is likely to -fill the student’s mind with false opinions; and to send him back a -colourist of his own formation, with ideas equally remote from nature -and from art, from the genuine practice of the masters, and the real -appearances of things. - -Following these rules, and using these precautions, when you have -clearly and distinctly learned in what good colouring consists, you -cannot do better than have recourse to nature herself, who is always at -hand, and in comparison of whose true splendour the best coloured -pictures are but faint and feeble. - -However, as the practice of copying is not entirely to be excluded, -since the mechanical practice of painting is learned in some measure by -it, let those choice parts only be selected which have recommended the -work to notice. If its excellence consists in its general effect, it -would be proper to make slight sketches of the machinery and general -management of the picture. Those sketches should be kept always by you -for the regulation of your style. Instead of copying the touches of -those great masters, copy only their conceptions. Instead of treading in -their footsteps, endeavour only to keep the same road. Labour to invent -on their general principles and way of thinking. Possess yourself with -their spirit. Consider with yourself how a Michael Angelo or a Raffaelle -would have treated this subject: and work yourself into a belief that -your picture is to be seen and criticised by them when completed. Even -an attempt of this kind will rouse your powers. - -But as mere enthusiasm will carry you but a little way, let me recommend -a practice that may be equivalent to and will perhaps more efficaciously -contribute to your advancement, than even the verbal corrections of -those masters themselves, could they be obtained. What I would propose -is, that you should enter into a kind of competition, by painting a -similar subject, and making a companion to any picture that you consider -as a model. After you have finished your work, place it near the model, -and compare them carefully together. You will then not only see, but -feel your own deficiencies more sensibly than by precepts, or any other -means of instruction. The true principles of painting will mingle with -your thoughts. Ideas thus fixed by sensible objects will be certain and -definitive; and sinking deep into the mind, will not only be more just, -but more lasting than those presented to you by precepts only; which -will always be fleeting, variable, and undetermined. - -This method of comparing your own efforts with those of some great -master is indeed a severe and mortifying task, to which none will -submit, but such as have great views, with fortitude sufficient to -forego the gratifications of present vanity for future honour. When the -student has succeeded in some measure to his own satisfaction, and has -felicitated himself on his success, to go voluntarily to a tribunal -where he knows his vanity must be humbled, and all self-approbation must -vanish, requires not only great resolution, but great humility. To him, -however, who has the ambition to be a real master, the solid -satisfaction which proceeds from a consciousness of his advancement (of -which seeing his own faults is the first step), will very abundantly -compensate for the mortification of present disappointment. There is, -besides, this alleviating circumstance. Every discovery he makes, every -acquisition of knowledge he attains, seems to proceed from his own -sagacity; and thus he acquires a confidence in himself sufficient to -keep up the resolution of perseverance. - -We all must have experienced how lazily, and consequently how -ineffectually, instruction is received when forced upon the mind by -others. Few have been taught to any purpose, who have not been their own -teachers. We prefer those instructions which we have given ourselves, -from our affection to the instructor; and they are more effectual, from -being received into the mind at the very time when it is most open and -eager to receive them. - -With respect to the pictures that you are to choose for your models, I -could wish that you would take the world’s opinion rather than your own. -In other words, I would have you choose those of established reputation, -rather than follow your own fancy. If you should not admire them at -first, you will, by endeavouring to imitate them, find that the world -has not been mistaken. - -It is not an easy task to point out those various excellences for your -imitation, which lie distributed amongst the various schools. An -endeavour to do this may perhaps be the subject of some future -discourse. I will, therefore, at present only recommend a model for -style in painting, which is a branch of the art more immediately -necessary to the young student. Style in painting is the same as in -writing, a power over materials, whether words or colours, by which -conceptions or sentiments are conveyed. And in this Lodovico Caracci (I -mean in his best works) appears to me to approach the nearest to -perfection. His unaffected breadth of light and shadow, the simplicity -of colouring, which, holding its proper rank, does not draw aside the -least part of the attention from the subject, and the solemn effect of -that twilight which seems diffused over his pictures, appear to me to -correspond with grave and dignified subjects, better than the more -artificial brilliancy of sunshine which enlightens the pictures of -Titian: though Tintoret thought that Titian’s colouring was the model of -perfection, and would correspond even with the sublime of Michael -Angelo; and that if Angelo had coloured like Titian, or Titian designed -like Angelo, the world would once have had a perfect painter. - -It is our misfortune, however, that those works of Caracci which I would -recommend to the student, are not often found out of Bologna. The _St. -Francis in the midst of his Friars_, _The Transfiguration_, _The Birth -of St. John the Baptist_, _The Calling of St. Matthew_, the _St. -Jerome_, the _Fresco Paintings_ in the Zampieri Palace, are all worthy -the attention of the student. And I think those who travel would do well -to allot a much greater portion of their time to that city, than it has -been hitherto the custom to bestow. - -In this art, as in others, there are many teachers who profess to show -the nearest way to excellence; and many expedients have been invented by -which the toil of study might be saved. But let no man be seduced to -idleness by specious promises. Excellence is never granted to man, but -as the reward of labour. It argues indeed no small strength of mind to -persevere in habits of industry, without the pleasure of perceiving -those advances; which, like the hand of a clock, whilst they make hourly -approaches to their point, yet proceed so slowly as to escape -observation. A facility of drawing, like that of playing upon a musical -instrument, cannot be acquired but by an infinite number of acts. I -need not, therefore, enforce by many words the necessity of continual -application; nor tell you that the port-crayon ought to be for ever in -your hands. Various methods will occur to you by which this power may be -acquired. I would particularly recommend, that after your return from -the Academy (where I suppose your attendance to be constant), you would -endeavour to draw the figure by memory. I will even venture to add, that -by perseverance in this custom, you will become able to draw the human -figure tolerably correct, with as little effort of the mind as is -required to trace with a pen the letters of the alphabet. - -That this facility is not unattainable, some members in this Academy -give a sufficient proof. And be assured, that if this power is not -acquired whilst you are young, there will be no time for it afterwards: -at least the attempt will be attended with as much difficulty as those -experience, who learn to read or write after they have arrived at the -age of maturity. - -But while I mention the port-crayon as the student’s constant companion, -he must still remember, that the pencil is the instrument by which he -must hope to obtain eminence. What, therefore, I wish to impress upon -you is, that whenever an opportunity offers, you paint your studies -instead of drawing them. This will give you such a facility in using -colours, that in time they will arrange themselves under the pencil, -even without the attention of the hand that conducts it. If one act -excluded the other, this advice could not with any propriety be given. -But if painting comprises both drawing and colouring, and if by a short -struggle of resolute industry, the same expedition is attainable in -painting as in drawing on paper, I cannot see what objection can justly -be made to the practice; or why that should be done by parts, which may -be done all together. - -If we turn our eyes to the several Schools of Painting, and consider -their respective excellences, we shall find that those who excel most in -colouring, pursued this method. The Venetian and Flemish schools, which -owe much of their fame to colouring, have enriched the cabinets of the -collectors of drawings with very few examples. Those of Titian, Paul -Veronese, Tintoret, and the Bassans, are in general slight and -undetermined; their sketches on paper are as rude as their pictures are -excellent in regard to harmony of colouring. Correggio and Baroccio have -left few, if any, finished drawings behind them. And in the Flemish -school, Rubens and Vandyck made their designs for the most part either -in colours, or in chiaroscuro. It is as common to find studies of the -Venetian and Flemish painters on canvas, as of the schools of Rome and -Florence on paper. Not but that many finished drawings are sold under -the names of those masters. Those, however, are undoubtedly the -productions either of engravers or of their scholars, who copied their -works. - -These instructions I have ventured to offer from my own experience; but -as they deviate widely from received opinions, I offer them with -diffidence; and when better are suggested, shall retract them without -regret. - -There is one precept, however, in which I shall only be opposed by the -vain, the ignorant, and the idle. I am not afraid that I shall repeat it -too often. You must have no dependence on your own genius. If you have -great talents, industry will improve them; if you have but moderate -abilities, industry will supply their deficiency. Nothing is denied to -well-directed labour: nothing is to be obtained without it. Not to enter -into metaphysical discussions on the nature or essence of genius, I -will venture to assert, that assiduity unabated by difficulty, and a -disposition eagerly directed to the object of its pursuit, will produce -effects similar to those which some call the result of _natural powers_. - -Though a man cannot at all times, and in all places, paint or draw, yet -the mind can prepare itself by laying in proper materials, at all times, -and in all places. Both Livy and Plutarch, in describing Philopoemen, -one of the ablest generals of antiquity, have given us a striking -picture of a mind always intent on its profession, and by assiduity -obtaining those excellences which some all their lives vainly expect -from nature. I shall quote the passage in Livy at length, as it runs -parallel with the practice I would recommend to the painter, sculptor, -and architect: - -“Philopoemen was a man eminent for his sagacity and experience in -choosing ground, and in leading armies; to which he formed his mind by -perpetual meditation, in times of peace as well as war. When, in any -occasional journey, he came to a strait difficult passage, if he was -alone he considered with himself, and if he was in company he asked his -friends, what it would be best to do if in this place they had found an -enemy, either in the front, or in the rear, on the one side, or on the -other. ‘It might happen,’ says he, ‘that the enemy to be opposed might -come on drawn up in regular lines, or in a tumultuous body, formed only -by the nature of the place.’ He then considered a little what ground he -should take; what number of soldiers he should use, and what arms he -should give them; where he should lodge his carriages, his baggage, and -the defenceless followers of his camp; how many guards, and of what -kind, he should send to defend them; and whether it would be better to -press forward along the pass, or recover by retreat his former station: -he would consider likewise where his camp could most commodiously be -formed; how much ground he should inclose within his trenches: where he -should have the convenience of water, and where he might find plenty of -wood and forage; and when he should break up his camp on the following -day, through what road he could most safely pass, and in what form he -should dispose his troops. With such thoughts and disquisitions he had -from his early years so exercised his mind, that on these occasions -nothing could happen which he had not been already accustomed to -consider.” - -I cannot help imagining that I see a promising young painter, equally -vigilant, whether at home, or abroad, in the streets, or in the fields. -Every object that presents itself is to him a lesson. He regards all -nature with a view to his profession; and combines her beauties, or -corrects her defects. He examines the countenance of men under the -influence of passion; and often catches the most pleasing hints from -subjects of turbulence or deformity. Even bad pictures themselves supply -him with useful documents; and, as Lionardo da Vinci has observed, he -improves upon the fanciful images that are sometimes seen in the fire, -or are accidentally sketched upon a discoloured wall. - -The artist who has his mind thus filled with ideas, and his hand made -expert by practice, works with ease and readiness; whilst he who would -have you believe that he is waiting for the inspirations of genius, is -in reality at a loss how to begin; and is at last delivered of his -monsters, with difficulty and pain. - -The well-grounded painter, on the contrary, has only maturely to -consider his subject, and all the mechanical parts of his art follow -without his exertion. Conscious of the difficulty of obtaining what he -possesses, he makes no pretensions to secrets, except those of closer -application. Without conceiving the smallest jealousy against others, he -is contented that all shall be as great as himself, who have undergone -the same fatigue; and as his pre-eminence depends not upon a trick, he -is free from the painful suspicions of a juggler, who lives in perpetual -fear lest his trick should be discovered. - - - - -DISCOURSE III - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 14, 1770._ - - The Great Leading Principles of the Grand Style.--Of Beauty.--The - Genuine Habits of Nature to be distinguished from those of Fashion. - - -GENTLEMEN, - -It is not easy to speak with propriety to so many students of different -ages and different degrees of advancement. The mind requires nourishment -adapted to its growth; and what may have promoted our earlier efforts, -might retard us in our nearer approaches to perfection. - -The first endeavours of a young painter, as I have remarked in a former -discourse, must be employed in the attainment of mechanical dexterity, -and confined to the mere imitation of the object before him. Those who -have advanced beyond the rudiments may, perhaps, find advantage in -reflecting on the advice which I have likewise given them, when I -recommended the diligent study of the works of our great predecessors; -but I at the same time endeavoured to guard them against an implicit -submission to the authority of any one master however excellent: or by a -strict imitation of his manner, precluding themselves from the -abundance and variety of nature. I will now add that Nature herself is -not to be too closely copied. There are excellences in the art of -painting beyond what is commonly called the imitation of nature: and -these excellences I wish to point out. The students who, having passed -through the initiatory exercises, are more advanced in the art, and who, -sure of their hand, have leisure to exert their understanding, must now -be told, that a mere copier of nature can never produce anything great; -can never raise and enlarge the conceptions, or warm the heart of the -spectator. - -The wish of the genuine painter must be more extensive: instead of -endeavouring to amuse mankind with the minute neatness of his -imitations, he must endeavour to improve them by the grandeur of his -ideas; instead of seeking praise, by deceiving the superficial sense of -the spectator, he must strive for fame, by captivating the imagination. - -The principle now laid down, that the perfection of this art does not -consist in mere imitation, is far from being new or singular. It is, -indeed, supported by the general opinion of the enlightened part of -mankind. The poets, orators, and rhetoricians of antiquity, are -continually enforcing this position; that all the arts receive their -perfection from an ideal beauty, superior to what is to be found in -individual nature. They are ever referring to the practice of the -painters and sculptors of their times, particularly Phidias (the -favourite artist of antiquity), to illustrate their assertions. As if -they could not sufficiently express their admiration of his genius by -what they knew, they have recourse to poetical enthusiasm: they call it -inspiration; a gift from heaven. The artist is supposed to have ascended -the celestial regions, to furnish his mind with this perfect idea of -beauty. “He,” says Proclus,[1] “who takes for his model such forms as -nature produces, and confines himself to an exact imitation of them, -will never attain to what is perfectly beautiful. For the works of -nature are full of disproportion, and fall very short of the true -standard of beauty. So that Phidias, when he formed his Jupiter, did not -copy any object ever presented to his sight; but contemplated only that -image which he had conceived in his mind from Homer’s description.” And -thus Cicero, speaking of the same Phidias: “Neither did this artist,” -says he, “when he carved the image of Jupiter or Minerva, set before him -any one human figure, as a pattern, which he was to copy; but having a -more perfect idea of beauty fixed in his mind, this he steadily -contemplated, and to the imitation of this all his skill and labour were -directed.” - -The moderns are not less convinced than the ancients of this superior -power existing in the art; nor less sensible of its effects. Every -language has adopted terms expressive of this excellence. The _gusto -grande_ of the Italians, the _beau idéal_ of the French, and the _great -style_, _genius_, and _taste_ among the English, are but different -appellations of the same thing. It is this intellectual dignity, they -say, that ennobles the painter’s art; that lays the line between him and -the mere mechanic; and produces those great effects in an instant, which -eloquence and poetry, by slow and repeated efforts, are scarcely able to -attain. - -Such is the warmth with which both the ancients and moderns speak of -this divine principle of the art; but, as I have formerly observed, -enthusiastic admiration seldom promotes knowledge. Though a student by -such praise may have his attention roused, and a desire excited, of -running in this great career; yet it is possible that what has been -said to excite, may only serve to deter him. He examines his own mind, -and perceives there nothing of that divine inspiration, with which, he -is told, so many others have been favoured. He never travelled to heaven -to gather new ideas; and he finds himself possessed of no other -qualifications than what mere common observation and a plain -understanding can confer. Thus he becomes gloomy amidst the splendour of -figurative declamation, and thinks it hopeless to pursue an object which -he supposes out of the reach of human industry. - -But on this, as upon many other occasions, we ought to distinguish how -much is to be given to enthusiasm, and how much to reason. We ought to -allow for, and we ought to commend, that strength of vivid expression, -which is necessary to convey, in its full force, the highest sense of -the most complete effect of art; taking care at the same time, not to -lose in terms of vague admiration, that solidity and truth of principle, -upon which alone we can reason, and may be enabled to practise. - -It is not easy to define in what this great style consists; nor to -describe, by words, the proper means of acquiring it, if the mind of the -student should be at all capable of such an acquisition. Could we teach -taste and genius by rules, they would be no longer taste and genius. But -though there neither are, nor can be, any precise invariable rules for -the exercise, or the acquisition, of these great qualities, yet we may -truly say, that they always operate in proportion to our attention in -observing the works of nature, to our skill in selecting, and to our -care in digesting, methodising, and comparing our observations. There -are many beauties in our art, that seem, at first, to lie without the -reach of precept, and yet may easily be reduced to practical principles. -Experience is all in all; but it is not every one who profits by -experience; and most people err, not so much from want of capacity to -find their object, as from not knowing what object to pursue. This great -ideal perfection and beauty are not to be sought in the heavens, but -upon the earth. They are about us, and upon every side of us. But the -power of discovering what is deformed in nature, or in other words, what -is particular and uncommon, can be acquired only by experience; and the -whole beauty and grandeur of the art consists, in my opinion, in being -able to get above all singular forms, local customs, particularities, -and details of every kind. - -All the objects which are exhibited to our view by nature, upon close -examination will be found to have their blemishes and defects. The most -beautiful forms have something about them like weakness, minuteness, or -imperfection. But it is not every eye that perceives these blemishes. It -must be an eye long used to the contemplation and comparison of these -forms; and which, by a long habit of observing what any set of objects -of the same kind have in common, has acquired the power of discerning -what each wants in particular. This long laborious comparison should be -the first study of the painter who aims at the greatest style. By this -means, he acquires a just idea of beautiful forms; he corrects nature by -herself, her imperfect state by her more perfect. His eye being enabled -to distinguish the accidental deficiencies, excrescences, and -deformities of things, from their general figures, he makes out an -abstract idea of their forms more perfect than any one original; and, -what may seem a paradox, he learns to design naturally by drawing his -figures unlike to any one object. This idea of the perfect state of -nature, which the artist calls the Ideal Beauty, is the great leading -principle by which works of genius are conducted. By this Phidias -acquired his fame. He wrought upon a sober principle what has so much -excited the enthusiasm of the world; and by this method you, who have -courage to tread the same path, may acquire equal reputation. - -This is the idea which has acquired, and which seems to have a right to, -the epithet of _divine_; as it may be said to preside, like a supreme -judge, over all the productions of nature; appearing to be possessed of -the will and intention of the Creator, as far as they regard the -external form of living beings. When a man once possesses this idea in -its perfection, there is no danger but that he will be sufficiently -warmed by it himself, and be able to warm and ravish everyone else. - -Thus it is from a reiterated experience, and a close comparison of the -objects in nature, that an artist becomes possessed of the idea of that -central form, if I may so express it, from which every deviation is -deformity. But the investigation of this form, I grant, is painful, and -I know but of one method of shortening the road; this is, by a careful -study of the works of the ancient sculptors; who, being indefatigable in -the school of nature, have left models of that perfect form behind them, -which an artist would prefer as supremely beautiful, who had spent his -whole life in that single contemplation. But if industry carried them -thus far, may not you also hope for the same reward from the same -labour? We have the same school opened to us, that was opened to them: -for nature denies her instructions to none, who desire to become her -pupils. - -This laborious investigation, I am aware, must appear superfluous to -those who think everything is to be done by felicity, and the powers of -native genius. Even the great Bacon treats with ridicule the idea of -confining proportion to rules, or of producing beauty by selection. “A -man cannot tell” (says he) “whether Apelles or Albert Dürer were the -more trifler; whereof the one would make a personage by geometrical -proportions; the other, by taking the best parts out of divers faces, to -make one excellent.... The painter” (he adds) “must do it by a kind of -felicity ... and not by rule.”[2] - -It is not safe to question any opinion of so great a writer, and so -profound a thinker, as undoubtedly Bacon was. But he studies brevity to -excess; and therefore his meaning is sometimes doubtful. If he means -that beauty has nothing to do with rule, he is mistaken. There is a -rule, obtained out of general nature, to contradict which is to fall -into deformity. Whenever anything is done beyond this rule, it is in -virtue of some other rule which is followed along with it, but which -does not contradict it. Everything which is wrought with certainty is -wrought upon some principle. If it is not, it cannot be repeated. If by -felicity is meant anything of chance or hazard, or something born with a -man, and not earned, I cannot agree with this great philosopher. Every -object which pleases must give us pleasure upon some certain principles; -but as the objects of pleasure are almost infinite, so their principles -vary without end, and every man finds them out, not by felicity or -successful hazard, but by care and sagacity. - -To the principle I have laid down, that the idea of beauty in each -species of beings is an invariable one, it may be objected, that in -every particular species there are various central forms, which are -separate and distinct from each other, and yet are undeniably beautiful; -that in the human figure, for instance, the beauty of Hercules is one, -of the Gladiator another, of the Apollo another; which makes so many -different ideas of beauty. - -It is true, indeed, that these figures are each perfect in their kind, -though of different characters and proportions; but still none of them -is the representation of an individual, but of a class. And as there is -one general form, which, as I have said, belongs to the human kind at -large, so in each of these classes there is one common idea and central -form, which is the abstract of the various individual forms belonging to -that class. Thus, though the forms of childhood and age differ -exceedingly, there is a common form in childhood, and a common form in -age, which is the more perfect, as it is more remote from all -peculiarities. But I must add further, that though the most perfect -forms of each of the general divisions of the human figure are ideal, -and superior to any individual form of that class; yet the highest -perfection of the human figure is not to be found in any one of them. It -is not in the Hercules, nor in the Gladiator, nor in the Apollo; but in -that form which is taken from all, and which partakes equally of the -activity of the Gladiator, of the delicacy of the Apollo, and of the -muscular strength of the Hercules. For perfect beauty in any species -must combine all the characters which are beautiful in that species. It -cannot consist in any one to the exclusion of the rest; no one, -therefore, must be predominant, that no one may be deficient. - -The knowledge of these different characters, and the power of separating -and distinguishing them, are undoubtedly necessary to the painter, who -is to vary his compositions with figures of various forms and -proportions, though he is never to lose sight of the general idea of -perfection in each kind. - -There is, likewise, a kind of symmetry, or proportion, which may -properly be said to belong to deformity. A figure, lean or corpulent, -tall or short, though deviating from beauty, may still have a certain -union of the various parts, which may contribute to make them on the -whole not unpleasing. - -When the artist has by diligent attention acquired a clear and distinct -idea of beauty and symmetry; when he has reduced the variety of nature -to the abstract idea; his next task will be to become acquainted with -the genuine habits of nature, as distinguished from those of fashion. -For in the same manner, and on the same principles, as he has acquired -the knowledge of the real forms of nature, distinct from accidental -deformity, he must endeavour to separate simple chaste nature, from -those adventitious, those affected and forced airs or actions, with -which she is loaded by modern education. - -Perhaps I cannot better explain what I mean, than by reminding you of -what was taught us by the Professor of Anatomy, in respect to the -natural position and movement of the feet. He observed, that the fashion -of turning them outwards was contrary to the intent of nature, as might -be seen from the structure of the bones, and from the weakness that -proceeded from that manner of standing. To this we may add the erect -position of the head, the projection of the chest, the walking with -straight knees, and many such actions, which we know to be merely the -result of fashion, and what nature never warranted, as we are sure that -we have been taught them when children. - -I have mentioned but a few of those instances, in which vanity or -caprice have contrived to distort and disfigure the human form: your own -recollection will add to these a thousand more of ill-understood -methods, which have been practised to disguise nature among our -dancing-masters, hairdressers, and tailors, in their various schools of -deformity.[3] - -However the mechanic and ornamental arts may sacrifice to fashion, she -must be entirely excluded from the art of painting; the painter must -never mistake this capricious changeling for the genuine offspring of -nature; he must divest himself of all prejudices in favour of his age or -country; he must disregard all local and temporary ornaments, and look -only on those general habits which are everywhere and always the same; -he addresses his works to the people of every country and every age, he -calls upon posterity to be his spectators, and says with Zeuxis, _in -æternitatem pingo_. - -The neglect of separating modern fashions from the habits of nature -leads to that ridiculous style which has been practised by some -painters, who have given to Grecian heroes the airs and graces practised -in the Court of Louis the Fourteenth; an absurdity almost as great as it -would have been to have dressed them after the fashion of that Court. - -To avoid this error, however, and to retain the true simplicity of -nature, is a task more difficult than at first sight it may appear. The -prejudices in favour of the fashions and customs that we have been used -to, and which are justly called a second nature, make it too often -difficult to distinguish that which is natural from that which is the -result of education; they frequently even give a predilection in favour -of the artificial mode; and almost everyone is apt to be guided by those -local prejudices, who has not chastised his mind and regulated the -instability of his affections by the eternal invariable idea of nature. - -Here then, as before, we must have recourse to the ancients as -instructors. It is from a careful study of their works that you will be -enabled to attain to the real simplicity of nature; they will suggest -many observations, which would probably escape you, if your study were -confined to nature alone. And, indeed, I cannot help suspecting, that in -this instance the ancients had an easier task than the moderns. They -had, probably, little or nothing to unlearn, as their manners were -nearly approaching to this desirable simplicity; while the modern -artist, before he can see the truth of things, is obliged to remove a -veil, with which the fashion of the times has thought proper to cover -her. - -Having gone thus far in our investigation of the great style in -painting; if we now should suppose that the artist has found the true -idea of beauty, which enables him to give his works a correct and -perfect design; if we should suppose also, that he has acquired a -knowledge of the unadulterated habits of nature, which gives him -simplicity; the rest of his task is, perhaps, less than is generally -imagined. Beauty and simplicity have so great a share in the composition -of a great style, that he who has acquired them has little else to -learn. It must not, indeed, be forgotten, that there is a nobleness of -conception, which goes beyond anything in the mere exhibition even of -perfect form; there is an art of animating and dignifying the figures -with intellectual grandeur, of impressing the appearance of philosophic -wisdom, or heroic virtue. This can only be acquired by him that enlarges -the sphere of his understanding by a variety of knowledge, and warms his -imagination with the best productions of ancient and modern poetry. - -A hand thus exercised, and a mind thus instructed, will bring the art to -a higher degree of excellence than, perhaps, it has hitherto attained in -this country. Such a student will disdain the humbler walks of painting, -which, however profitable, can never assure him a permanent reputation. -He will leave the meaner artist servilely to suppose that those are the -best pictures, which are most likely to deceive the spectator. He will -permit the lower painter, like the florist or collector of shells, to -exhibit the minute discriminations, which distinguish one object of the -same species from another; while he, like the philosopher, will consider -nature in the abstract, and represent in every one of his figures the -character of its species. - -If deceiving the eye were the only business of the art, there is no -doubt, indeed, but the minute painter would be more apt to succeed; but -it is not the eye, it is the mind, which the painter of genius desires -to address; nor will he waste a moment upon those smaller objects, which -only serve to catch the sense, to divide the attention, and to -counteract his great design of speaking to the heart. - -This is the ambition which I wish to excite in your minds; and the -object I have had in my view, throughout this discourse, is that one -great idea, which gives to painting its true dignity, which entitles it -to the name of a liberal art, and ranks it as a sister of poetry. - -It may possibly have happened to many young students, whose application -was sufficient to overcome all difficulties, and whose minds were -capable of embracing the most extensive views, that they have, by a -wrong direction originally given, spent their lives in the meaner walks -of painting, without ever knowing there was a nobler to pursue. Albert -Dürer, as Vasari has justly remarked, would, probably, have been one of -the first painters of his age (and he lived in an era of great artists) -had he been initiated into those great principles of the art, which were -so well understood and practised by his contemporaries in Italy. But -unluckily having never seen or heard of any other manner, he, without -doubt, considered his own as perfect. - -As for the various departments of painting, which do not presume to make -such high pretensions, they are many. None of them are without their -merit, though none enter into competition with this universal presiding -idea of the art. The painters who have applied themselves more -particularly to low and vulgar characters, and who express with -precision the various shades of passion, as they are exhibited by vulgar -minds (such as we see in the works of Hogarth), deserve great praise; -but as their genius has been employed on low and confined subjects, the -praise which we give must be as limited as its object. The merry-making, -or quarrelling of the boors of Teniers; the same sort of productions of -Brouwer, or Ostade, are excellent in their kind; and the excellence and -its praise will be in proportion, as, in those limited subjects, and -peculiar forms, they introduce more or less of the expression of those -passions, as they appear in general and more enlarged nature. This -principle may be applied to the battle-pieces of Bourgognone the French -gallantries of Watteau, and even beyond the exhibition of animal life, -to the landscapes of Claude Lorrain, and the sea views of Vandervelde. -All these painters have, in general, the same right, in different -degrees, to the name of a painter, which a satirist, an epigrammatist, a -sonneteer, a writer of pastorals or descriptive poetry, has to that of a -poet. - -In the same rank, and perhaps of not so great merit, is the cold painter -of portraits. But his correct and just imitation of his object has its -merit. Even the painter of still life, whose highest ambition is to give -a minute representation of every part of those low objects which he sets -before him, deserves praise in proportion to his attainment; because no -part of this excellent art, so much the ornament of polished life, is -destitute of value and use. These, however, are by no means the views to -which the mind of the student ought to be _primarily_ directed. Having -begun by aiming at better things, if from particular inclination, or -from the taste of the time and place he lives in, or from necessity, or -from failure in the highest attempts, he is obliged to descend lower, he -will bring into the lower sphere of art a grandeur of composition and -character, that will raise and ennoble his works far above their natural -rank. - -A man is not weak, though he may not be able to wield the club of -Hercules; nor does a man always practise that which he esteems the best; -but does that which he can best do. In moderate attempts, there are many -walks open to the artist. But as the idea of beauty is of necessity but -one, so there can be but one great mode of painting; the leading -principle of which I have endeavoured to explain. - -I should be sorry, if what is here recommended, should be at all -understood to countenance a careless or indetermined manner of painting. -For though the painter is to overlook the accidental discriminations of -nature, he is to exhibit distinctly, and with precision, the general -forms of things. A firm and determined outline is one of the -characteristics of the great style in painting; and let me add, that he -who possesses the knowledge of the exact form which every part of nature -ought to have, will be fond of expressing that knowledge with -correctness and precision in all his works. - -To conclude; I have endeavoured to reduce the idea of beauty to general -principles: and I had the pleasure to observe that the Professor of -Painting proceeded in the same method, when he showed you that the -artifice of contrast was founded but on one principle. I am convinced -that this is the only means of advancing science; of clearing the mind -from a confused heap of contradictory observations, that do but perplex -and puzzle the student, when he compares them, or misguide him if he -gives himself up to their authority: bringing them under one general -head can alone give rest and satisfaction to an inquisitive mind. - - - - -DISCOURSE IV - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 10, 1771._ - - General Ideas, the Presiding Principle which regulates every Part - of Art; Invention, Expression, Colouring, and Drapery.--Two - Distinct Styles in History-painting; the Grand, and the - Ornamental.--The Schools in which each is to be found.--The - Composite Style.--The Style formed on Local Customs and Habits, or - a Partial View of Nature. - - -GENTLEMEN, - -The value and rank of every art is in proportion to the mental labour -employed in it, or the mental pleasure produced by it. As this principle -is observed or neglected, our profession becomes either a liberal art, -or a mechanical trade. In the hands of one man it makes the highest -pretensions, as it is addressed to the noblest faculties: in those of -another it is reduced to a mere matter of ornament; and the painter has -but the humble province of furnishing our apartments with elegance. - -This exertion of mind, which is the only circumstance that truly -ennobles our art, makes the great distinction between the Roman and -Venetian schools. I have formerly observed that perfect form is produced -by leaving out particularities, and retaining only general ideas: I -shall now endeavour to show that this principle, which I have proved to -be metaphysically just, extends itself to every part of the art; that -it gives what is called the _grand style_ to invention, to composition, -to expression, and even to colouring and drapery. - -Invention in painting does not imply the invention of the subject; for -that is commonly supplied by the poet or historian. With respect to the -choice, no subject can be proper that is not generally interesting. It -ought to be either some eminent instance of heroic action, or heroic -suffering. There must be something either in the action, or in the -object, in which men are universally concerned, and which powerfully -strikes upon the public sympathy. - -Strictly speaking, indeed, no subject can be of universal, hardly can it -be of general, concern; but there are events and characters so popularly -known in those countries where our art is in request, that they may be -considered as sufficiently general for all our purposes. Such are the -great events of Greek and Roman fable and history, which early -education, and the usual course of reading, have made familiar and -interesting to all Europe, without being degraded by the vulgarism of -ordinary life in any country. Such too are the capital subjects of -Scripture history, which, besides their general notoriety, become -venerable by their connection with our religion. - -As it is required that the subject selected should be a general one, it -is no less necessary that it should be kept unembarrassed with whatever -may in any way serve to divide the attention of the spectator. Whenever -a story is related, every man forms a picture in his mind of the action -and expression of the persons employed. The power of representing this -mental picture on canvas is what we call invention in a painter. And as -in the conception of this ideal picture the mind does not enter into the -minute peculiarities of the dress, furniture, or scene of action; so -when the painter comes to represent it, he contrives those little -necessary concomitant circumstances in such a manner, that they shall -strike the spectator no more than they did himself in his first -conception of the story. - -I am very ready to allow, that some circumstances of minuteness and -particularity frequently tend to give an air of truth to a piece, and to -interest the spectator in an extraordinary manner. Such circumstances -therefore cannot wholly be rejected: but if there be anything in the art -which requires peculiar nicety of discernment, it is the disposition of -these minute circumstantial parts; which, according to the judgment -employed in the choice, become so useful to truth, or so injurious to -grandeur. - -However, the usual and most dangerous error is on the side of -minuteness; and therefore I think caution most necessary where most have -failed. The general idea constitutes real excellence. All smaller -things, however perfect in their way, are to be sacrificed without mercy -to the greater. The painter will not inquire what things may be admitted -without much censure: he will not think it enough to show that they may -be there; he will show that they must be there; that their absence would -render his picture maimed and defective. - -Thus, though to the principal group a second or third be added, and a -second and third mass of light, care must be yet taken that these -subordinate actions and lights, neither each in particular, nor all -together, come into any degree of competition with the principal; they -should merely make a part of that whole which would be imperfect without -them. To every kind of painting this rule may be applied. Even in -portraits, the grace, and, we may add, the likeness, consists more in -taking the general air, than in observing the exact similitude of every -feature. - -Thus figures must have a ground whereon to stand; they must be clothed; -there must be a background; there must be light and shadow: but none of -these ought to appear to have taken up any part of the artist’s -attention. They should be so managed as not even to catch that of the -spectator. We know well enough, when we analyse a piece, the difficulty -and the subtilty with which an artist adjusts the background, drapery, -and masses of light; we know that a considerable part of the grace and -effect of his picture depends upon them; but this art is so much -concealed, even to a judicious eye, that no remains of any of these -subordinate parts occur to the memory when the picture is not present. - -The great end of the art is to strike the imagination. The painter -therefore is to make no ostentation of the means by which this is done; -the spectator is only to feel the result in his bosom. An inferior -artist is unwilling that any part of his industry should be lost upon -the spectator. He takes as much pains to discover, as the greater artist -does to conceal, the marks of his subordinate assiduity. In works of the -lower kind, everything appears studied, and encumbered; it is all -boastful art and open affectation. The ignorant often part from such -pictures with wonder in their mouths, and indifference in their hearts. - -But it is not enough in invention that the artist should restrain and -keep under all the inferior parts of his subject; he must sometimes -deviate from vulgar and strict historical truth, in pursuing the -grandeur of his design. - -How much the great style exacts from its professors to conceive and -represent their subjects in a poetical manner, not confined to mere -matter of fact, may be seen in the Cartoons of Raffaelle. In all the -pictures in which the painter has represented the Apostles, he has drawn -them with great nobleness; he has given them as much dignity as the -human figure is capable of receiving; yet we are expressly told in -Scripture they had no such respectable appearance; and of St. Paul in -particular, we are told by himself, that his _bodily_ presence was -_mean_. Alexander is said to have been of a low stature: a painter ought -not so to represent him. Agesilaus was low, lame, and of a mean -appearance: none of these defects ought to appear in a piece of which he -is the hero. In conformity to custom, I call this part of the art -history painting; it ought to be called poetical, as in reality it is. - -All this is not falsifying any fact; it is taking an allowed poetical -licence. A painter of portraits retains the individual likeness; a -painter of history shows the man by showing his actions. A painter must -compensate the natural deficiencies of his art. He has but one sentence -to utter, but one moment to exhibit. He cannot, like the poet or -historian, expatiate, and impress the mind with great veneration for the -character of the hero or saint he represents, though he lets us know at -the same time, that the saint was deformed, or the hero lame. The -painter has no other means of giving an idea of the dignity of the mind, -but by that external appearance which grandeur of thought does -generally, though not always, impress on the countenance; and by that -correspondence of figure to sentiment and situation, which all men wish, -but cannot command. The painter, who may in this one particular attain -with ease what others desire in vain, ought to give all that he possibly -can, since there are so many circumstances of true greatness that he -cannot give at all. He cannot make his hero talk like a great man; he -must make him look like one. For which reason, he ought to be well -studied in the analysis of those circumstances, which constitute dignity -of appearance in real life. - -As in invention, so likewise in expression, care must be taken not to -run into particularities. Those expressions alone should be given to the -figures which their respective situations generally produce. Nor is this -enough; each person should also have that expression which men of his -rank generally exhibit. The joy, or the grief of a character of dignity, -is not to be expressed in the same manner as a similar passion in a -vulgar face. Upon this principle, Bernini, perhaps, may be subject to -censure. This sculptor, in many respects admirable, has given a very -mean expression to his statue of David, who is represented as just going -to throw the stone from the sling; and in order to give it the -expression of energy, he has made him biting his under-lip. This -expression is far from being general, and still farther from being -dignified. He might have seen it in an instance or two; and he mistook -accident for generality. - -With respect to colouring, though it may appear at first a part of -painting merely mechanical, yet it still has its rules, and those -grounded upon that presiding principle which regulates both the great -and the little in the study of a painter. By this, the first effect of -the picture is produced; and as this is performed, the spectator, as he -walks the gallery, will stop or pass along. To give a general air of -grandeur at first view, all trifling or artful play of little lights, or -an attention to a variety of tints, is to be avoided; a quietness and -simplicity must reign over the whole work; to which a breadth of uniform -and simple colour will very much contribute. Grandeur of effect is -produced by two different ways, which seem entirely opposed to each -other. One is, by reducing the colours to little more than chiaroscuro, -which was often the practice of the Bolognian schools; and the other, by -making the colours very distinct and forcible, such as we see in those -of Rome and Florence; but still, the presiding principle of both those -manners is simplicity. Certainly, nothing can be more simple than -monotony; and the distinct blue, red, and yellow colours which are seen -in the draperies of the Roman and Florentine schools, though they have -not that kind of harmony which is produced by a variety of broken and -transparent colours, have that effect of grandeur which was intended. -Perhaps these distinct colours strike the mind more forcibly, from there -not being any great union between them; as martial music, which is -intended to rouse the nobler passions, has its effect from the sudden -and strongly marked transitions from one note to another, which that -style of music requires; whilst in that which is intended to move the -softer passions, the notes imperceptibly melt into one another. - -In the same manner as the historical painter never enters into the -detail of colours, so neither does he debase his conceptions with minute -attention to the discriminations of drapery. It is the inferior style -that marks the variety of stuffs. With him, the clothing is neither -woollen, nor linen, nor silk, satin, or velvet: it is drapery; it is -nothing more. The art of disposing the foldings of the drapery makes a -very considerable part of the painter’s study. To make it merely natural -is a mechanical operation, to which neither genius nor taste are -required; whereas it requires the nicest judgment to dispose the -drapery, so that the folds shall have an easy communication, and -gracefully follow each other, with such natural negligence as to look -like the effect of chance, and at the same time show the figure under it -to the utmost advantage. - -Carlo Maratti was of opinion, that the disposition of drapery was a more -difficult art than even that of drawing the human figure; that a student -might be more easily taught the latter than the former; as the rules of -drapery, he said, could not be so well ascertained as those for -delineating a correct form. This, perhaps, is a proof how willingly we -favour our own peculiar excellence. Carlo Maratti is said to have valued -himself particularly upon his skill in this part of his art; yet in him, -the disposition appears so ostentatiously artificial, that he is -inferior to Raffaelle, even in that which gave him his best claim to -reputation. - -Such is the great principle by which we must be directed in the nobler -branches of our art. Upon this principle, the Roman, the Florentine, the -Bolognese schools, have formed their practice; and by this they have -deservedly obtained the highest praise. These are the three great -schools of the world in the epic style. The best of the French school, -Poussin, Le Sueur, and Le Brun, have formed themselves upon these -models, and consequently may be said, though Frenchmen, to be a colony -from the Roman school. Next to these, but in a very different style of -excellence, we may rank the Venetian, together with the Flemish and the -Dutch schools; all professing to depart from the great purposes of -painting, and catching at applause by inferior qualities. - -I am not ignorant that some will censure me for placing the Venetians in -this inferior class, and many of the warmest admirers of painting will -think them unjustly degraded; but I wish not to be misunderstood. Though -I can by no means allow them to hold any rank with the nobler schools of -painting, they accomplished perfectly the thing they attempted. But as -mere elegance is their principal object, as they seem more willing to -dazzle than to affect, it can be no injury to them to suppose that their -practice is useful only to its proper end. But what may heighten the -elegant may degrade the sublime. There is a simplicity, and, I may add, -severity, in the great manner, which is, I am afraid, almost -incompatible with this comparatively sensual style. - -Tintoret, Paul Veronese, and others of the Venetian school, seem to have -painted with no other purpose than to be admired for their skill and -expertness in the mechanism of painting, and to make a parade of that -art, which, as I before observed, the higher style requires its -followers to conceal. - -In a conference of the French Academy, at which were present Le Brun, -Sebastian Bourdon, and all the eminent artists of that age, one of the -Academicians desired to have their opinion on the conduct of Paul -Veronese, who, though a painter of great consideration, had, contrary to -the strict rules of art, in his picture of Perseus and Andromeda, -represented the principal figure in shade. To this question no -satisfactory answer was then given. But I will venture to say, that if -they had considered the class of the artist, and ranked him as an -ornamental painter, there would have been no difficulty in -answering--“It was unreasonable to expect what was never intended. His -intention was solely to produce an effect of light and shadow; -everything was to be sacrificed to that intent, and the capricious -composition of that picture suited very well with the style which he -professed.” - -Young minds are indeed too apt to be captivated by this splendour of -style; and that of the Venetians is particularly pleasing; for by them, -all those parts of the art that gave pleasure to the eye or sense, have -been cultivated with care, and carried to the degree nearest to -perfection. The powers exerted in the mechanical part of the art have -been called _the language of painters_; but we may say, that it is but -poor eloquence which only shows that the orator can talk. Words should -be employed as the means, not as the end: language is the instrument, -conviction is the work. - -The language of painting must indeed be allowed these masters; but even -in that, they have shown more copiousness than choice, and more -luxuriancy than judgment. If we consider the uninteresting subjects of -their invention, or at least the uninteresting manner in which they are -treated; if we attend to their capricious composition, their violent and -affected contrasts, whether of figures or of light and shadow, the -richness of their drapery, and at the same time the mean effect which -the discrimination of stuffs gives to their pictures; if to these we add -their total inattention to expression; and then reflect on the -conceptions and the learning of Michael Angelo, or the simplicity of -Raffaelle, we can no longer dwell on the comparison. Even in colouring, -if we compare the quietness and chastity of the Bolognese pencil to the -bustle and tumult that fills every part of a Venetian picture, without -the least attempt to interest the passions, their boasted art will -appear a mere struggle without effect; _a tale told by an idiot, full of -sound and fury, signifying nothing_. - -Such as suppose that the great style might happily be blended with the -ornamental, that the simple, grave and majestic dignity of Raffaelle -could unite with the glow and bustle of a Paolo, or Tintoret, are -totally mistaken. The principles by which each is attained are so -contrary to each other, that they seem, in my opinion, incompatible, and -as impossible to exist together, as that in the mind the most sublime -ideas and the lowest sensuality should at the same time be united. - -The subjects of the Venetian painters are mostly such as give them an -opportunity of introducing a great number of figures; such as feasts, -marriages, and processions, public martyrdoms, or miracles. I can easily -conceive that Paul Veronese, if he were asked, would say, that no -subject was proper for an historical picture, but such as admitted at -least forty figures; for in a less number, he would assert, there could -be no opportunity of the painter’s showing his art in composition, his -dexterity of managing and disposing the masses of light and groups of -figures, and of introducing a variety of Eastern dresses and characters -in their rich stuffs. - -But the thing is very different with a pupil of the greater schools. -Annibale Caracci thought twelve figures sufficient for any story: he -conceived that more would contribute to no end but to fill space; that -they would be but cold spectators of the general action, or, to use his -own expression, that they would be _figurers to be let_. Besides, it is -impossible for a picture composed of so many parts to have that effect -so indispensably necessary to grandeur, that of one complete whole. -However contradictory it may be in geometry, it is true in taste, that -many little things will not make a great one. The sublime impresses the -mind at once with one great idea; it is a single blow: the elegant -indeed may be produced by repetition; by an accumulation of many minute -circumstances. - -However great the difference is between the composition of the Venetian -and the rest of the Italian schools, there is full as great a disparity -in the effect of their pictures as produced by colours. And though in -this respect the Venetians must be allowed extraordinary skill, yet even -that skill, as they have employed it, will but ill correspond with the -great style. Their colouring is not only too brilliant, but, I will -venture to say, too harmonious, to produce that solidity, steadiness, -and simplicity of effect, which heroic subjects require, and which -simple or grave colours only can give to a work. That they are to be -cautiously studied by those who are ambitious of treading the great walk -of history is confirmed, if it wants confirmation, by the greatest of -all authorities, Michael Angelo. This wonderful man, after having seen a -picture by Titian, told Vasari, who accompanied him,[4] “that he liked -much his colouring and manner”; but then he added, “that it was a pity -the Venetian painters did not learn to draw correctly in their early -youth, and adopt a better _manner of study_.” - -By this it appears, that the principal attention of the Venetian -painters, in the opinion of Michael Angelo, seemed to be engrossed by -the study of colours, to the neglect of the _ideal beauty of form_, or -propriety of expression. But if general censure was given to that school -from the sight of a picture of Titian, how much more heavily and more -justly, would the censure fall on Paolo Veronese, and more especially on -Tintoret? And here I cannot avoid citing Vasari’s opinion of the style -and manner of Tintoret. “Of all the extraordinary geniuses,”[5] says he, -“that have practised the art of painting, for wild, capricious, -extravagant and fantastical inventions, for furious impetuosity and -boldness in the execution of his work, there is none like Tintoret; his -strange whimsies are even beyond extravagance, and his works seem to be -produced rather by chance, than in consequence of any previous design, -as if he wanted to convince the world that the art was a trifle, and of -the most easy attainment.” - -For my own part, when I speak of the Venetian painters, I wish to be -understood to mean Paolo Veronese and Tintoret, to the exclusion of -Titian; for though his style is not so pure as that of many other of the -Italian schools, yet there is a sort of senatorial dignity about him, -which, however awkward in his imitators, seems to become him -exceedingly. His portraits alone, from the nobleness and simplicity of -character which he always gave them, will entitle him to the greatest -respect, as he undoubtedly stands in the first rank in this branch of -the art. - -It is not with Titian, but with the seducing qualities of the two -former, that I could wish to caution you against being too much -captivated. These are the persons who may be said to have exhausted all -the powers of florid eloquence, to debauch the young and inexperienced; -and have, without doubt, been the cause of turning off the attention of -the connoisseur and of the patron of art, as well as that of the -painter, from those higher excellences of which the art is capable, and -which ought to be required in every considerable production. By them, -and their imitators, a style merely ornamental has been disseminated -throughout all Europe. Rubens carried it to Flanders; Voet to France; -and Lucca Giordano to Spain and Naples. - -The Venetian is indeed the most splendid of the schools of elegance; and -it is not without reason, that the best performances in this lower -school are valued higher than the second-rate performances of those -above them: for every picture has value when it has a decided character, -and is excellent in its kind. But the student must take care not to be -so much dazzled with this splendour, as to be tempted to imitate what -must ultimately lead from perfection. Poussin, whose eye was always -steadily fixed on the sublime, has been often heard to say, “That a -particular attention to colouring was an obstacle to the student, in his -progress to the great end and design of the art; and that he who -attaches himself to this principal end, will acquire by practice a -reasonable good method of colouring.”[6] - -Though it be allowed that elaborate harmony of colouring, a brilliancy -of tints, a soft and gradual transition from one to another, present to -the eye, what an harmonious concert of music does to the ear, it must be -remembered, that painting is not merely a gratification of the sight. -Such excellence, though properly cultivated, where nothing higher than -elegance is intended, is weak and unworthy of regard, when the work -aspires to grandeur and sublimity. - -The same reasons that have been urged to show that a mixture of the -Venetian style cannot improve the great style, will hold good in regard -to the Flemish and Dutch schools. Indeed the Flemish school, of which -Rubens is the head, was formed upon that of the Venetian; like them, he -took his figures too much from the people before him. But it must be -allowed in favour of the Venetians, that he was more gross than they, -and carried all their mistaken methods to a far greater excess. In the -Venetian school itself, where they all err from the same cause, there is -a difference in the effect. The difference between Paolo and Bassano -seems to be only, that one introduced Venetian gentlemen into his -pictures, and the other the boors of the district of Bassano, and called -them patriarchs and prophets. - -The painters of the Dutch school have still more locality. With them, a -history-piece is properly a portrait of themselves; whether they -describe the inside or outside of their houses, we have their own people -engaged in their own peculiar occupations; working or drinking, playing -or fighting. The circumstances that enter into a picture of this kind -are so far from giving a general view of human life, that they exhibit -all the minute particularities of a nation differing in several respects -from the rest of mankind. Yet, let them have their share of more humble -praise. The painters of this school are excellent in their own way; they -are only ridiculous when they attempt general history on their own -narrow principles, and debase great events by the meanness of their -characters. - -Some inferior dexterity, some extraordinary mechanical power is -apparently that from which they seek distinction. Thus, we see, that -school alone has the custom of representing candle-light not as it -really appears to us by night, but red, as it would illuminate objects -to a spectator by day. Such tricks, however pardonable in the little -style, where petty effects are the sole end, are inexcusable in the -greater, where the attention should never be drawn aside by trifles, but -should be entirely occupied by the subject itself. - -The same local principles which characterise the Dutch school extend -even to their landscape-painters; and Rubens himself, who has painted -many landscapes, has sometimes transgressed in this particular. Their -pieces in this way are, I think, always a representation of an -individual spot, and each in its kind a very faithful but a very -confined portrait. Claude Lorrain, on the contrary, was convinced, that -taking nature as he found it seldom produced beauty. His pictures are a -composition of the various drafts which he had previously made from -various beautiful scenes and prospects. However, Rubens in some measure -has made amends for the deficiency with which he is charged; he has -contrived to raise and animate his otherwise uninteresting views, by -introducing a rainbow, storm, or some particular accidental effect of -light. That the practice of Claude Lorrain, in respect to his choice, is -to be adopted by landscape-painters in opposition to that of the Flemish -and Dutch schools, there can be no doubt, as its truth is founded upon -the same principle as that by which the historical painter acquires -perfect form. But whether landscape-painting has a right to aspire so -far as to reject what the painters call accidents of nature, is not easy -to determine. It is certain Claude Lorrain seldom, if ever, availed -himself of those accidents; either he thought that such peculiarities -were contrary to that style of general nature which he professed, or -that it would catch the attention too strongly, and destroy that -quietness and repose which he thought necessary to that kind of -painting. - -A portrait-painter likewise, when he attempts history, unless he is upon -his guard, is likely to enter too much into the detail. He too -frequently makes his historical heads look like portraits; and this was -once the custom amongst those old painters, who revived the art before -general ideas were practised or understood. A history-painter paints man -in general; a portrait-painter, a particular man, and consequently a -defective model. - -Thus an habitual practice in the lower exercises of the art will prevent -many from attaining the greater. But such of us who move in these -humbler walks of the profession, are not ignorant that, as the natural -dignity of the subject is less, the more all the little ornamental helps -are necessary to its embellishment. It would be ridiculous for a painter -of domestic scenes, of portraits, landscapes, animals, or still life, to -say that he despised those qualities which have made the subordinate -schools so famous. The art of colouring, and the skilful management of -light and shadow, are essential requisites in his confined labours. If -we descend still lower, what is the painter of fruit and flowers without -the utmost art in colouring, and what the painters call handling; that -is, a lightness of pencil that implies great practice, and gives the -appearance of being done with ease? Some here, I believe, must remember -a flower-painter whose boast it was, that he scorned to paint for the -_million_: no, he professed to paint in the true Italian taste; and -despising the crowd, called strenuously upon the _few_ to admire him. -His idea of the Italian taste was to paint as black and dirty as he -could, and to leave all clearness and brilliancy of colouring to those -who were fonder of money than immortality. The consequence was such as -might be expected. For these petty excellences are here essential -beauties; and without this merit the artist’s work will be more -short-lived than the objects of his imitation. - -From what has been advanced, we must now be convinced that there are two -distinct styles in history-painting: the grand, and the splendid or -ornamental. - -The great style stands alone, and does not require, perhaps does not so -well admit, any addition from inferior beauties. The ornamental style -also possesses its own peculiar merit. However, though the union of the -two may make a sort of composite style, yet that style is likely to be -more imperfect than either of those which go to its composition. Both -kinds have merit, and may be excellent though in different ranks, if -uniformity be preserved, and the general and particular ideas of nature -be not mixed. Even the meanest of them is difficult enough to attain; -and the first place being already occupied by the great artists in each -department, some of those who followed thought there was less room for -them, and feeling the impulse of ambition and the desire of novelty, and -being at the same time perhaps willing to take the shortest way, -endeavoured to make for themselves a place between both. This they have -effected by forming a union of the different orders. But as the grave -and majestic style would suffer by a union with the florid and gay, so -also has the Venetian ornament in some respect been injured by -attempting an alliance with simplicity. - -It may be asserted, that the great style is always more or less -contaminated by any meaner mixture. But it happens in a few instances, -that the lower may be improved by borrowing from the grand. Thus if a -portrait-painter is desirous to raise and improve his subject, he has no -other means than by approaching it to a general idea. He leaves out all -the minute breaks and peculiarities in the face, and changes the dress -from a temporary fashion to one more permanent, which has annexed to it -no ideas of meanness from its being familiar to us. But if an exact -resemblance of an individual be considered as the sole object to be -aimed at, the portrait-painter will be apt to lose more than he gains by -the acquired dignity taken from general nature. It is very difficult to -ennoble the character of a countenance but at the expense of the -likeness, which is what is most generally required by such as sit to the -painter. - -Of those who have practised the composite style, and have succeeded in -this perilous attempt, perhaps the foremost is Correggio. His style is -founded upon modern grace and elegance, to which is superadded something -of the simplicity of the grand style. A breadth of light and colour, the -general ideas of the drapery, an uninterrupted flow of outline, all -conspire to this effect. Next to him (perhaps equal to him) Parmegiano -has dignified the genteelness of modern effeminacy, by uniting it with -the simplicity of the ancients and the grandeur and severity of Michael -Angelo. It must be confessed, however, that these two extraordinary men, -by endeavouring to give the utmost degree of grace, have sometimes -perhaps exceeded its boundaries, and have fallen into the most hateful -of all hateful qualities, affectation. Indeed, it is the peculiar -characteristic of men of genius to be afraid of coldness and insipidity, -from which they think they never can be too far removed. It particularly -happens to these great masters of grace and elegance. They often boldly -drive on to the very verge of ridicule; the spectator is alarmed, but at -the same time admires their vigour and intrepidity: - - Strange graces still, and stranger flights they had, - - * * * * * - - Yet ne’er so sure our passion to create, - As when they touch’d the brink of all we hate. - -The errors of genius, however, are pardonable, and none even of the more -exalted painters are wholly free from them; but they have taught us, by -the rectitude of their general practice, to correct their own affected -or accidental deviation. The very first have not been always upon their -guard, and perhaps there is not a fault, but what may take shelter under -the most venerable authorities; yet that style only is perfect, in which -the noblest principles are uniformly pursued; and those masters only are -entitled to the first rank in our estimation, who have enlarged the -boundaries of their art, and have raised it to its highest dignity, by -exhibiting the general ideas of nature. - -On the whole, it seems to me that there is but one presiding principle, -which regulates and gives stability to every art. The works, whether of -poets, painters, moralists, or historians, which are built upon general -nature, live for ever; while those which depend for their existence on -particular customs and habits, a partial view of nature, or the -fluctuation of fashion, can only be coeval with that which first raised -them from obscurity. Present time and future may be considered as -rivals, and he who solicits the one must expect to be discountenanced by -the other. - - - - -DISCOURSE V - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 10, 1772._ - - Circumspection required in endeavouring to unite Contrary - Excellencies.--The Expression of a Mixed Passion not to be - attempted.--Examples of those who excelled in the Great - Style;--Raffaelle, Michael Angelo: Those two Extraordinary Men - compared with each other. The Characteristical Style.--Salvator - Rosa mentioned as an Example of that Style; and opposed to Carlo - Maratti.--Sketch of the Characters of Poussin and Rubens: These two - Painters entirely Dissimilar, but Consistent with themselves. This - Consistency required in All Parts of the Art. - - - GENTLEMEN, - -I purpose to carry on in this discourse the subject which I began in my -last. It was my wish upon that occasion to incite you to pursue the -higher excellences of the art. But I fear that in this particular I have -been misunderstood. Some are ready to imagine, when any of their -favourite acquirements in the art are properly classed, that they are -utterly disgraced. This is a very great mistake: nothing has its proper -lustre but in its proper place. That which is most worthy of esteem in -its allotted sphere, becomes an object, not of respect, but of derision, -when it is forced into a higher, to which it is not suited; and there it -becomes doubly a source of disorder, by occupying a situation which is -not natural to it, and by putting down from the first place what is in -reality of too much magnitude to become with grace and proportion that -subordinate station, to which something of less value would be much -better suited. - -My advice in a word is this: keep your principal attention fixed upon -the higher excellences. If you compass them, and compass nothing more, -you are still in the first class. We may regret the innumerable beauties -which you may want; you may be very imperfect; but still, you are an -imperfect artist of the highest order. - -If, when you have got thus far, you can add any, or all, of the -subordinate qualifications, it is my wish and advice that you should not -neglect them. But this is as much a matter of circumspection and -caution, at least, as of eagerness and pursuit. - -The mind is apt to be distracted by a multiplicity of objects; and that -scale of perfection, which I wish always to be preserved, is in the -greatest danger of being totally disordered, and even inverted. - -Some excellences bear to be united, and are improved by union; others -are of a discordant nature; and the attempt to join them only produces a -harsh jarring of incongruent principles. The attempt to unite contrary -excellences (of form, for instance) in a single figure, can never escape -degenerating into the monstrous, but by sinking into the insipid; by -taking away its marked character, and weakening its expression. - -This remark is true to a certain degree with regard to the passions. If -you mean to preserve the most perfect beauty _in its most perfect -state_, you cannot express the passions, all of which produce distortion -and deformity, more or less, in the most beautiful faces. - -Guido, from want of choice in adapting his subject to his ideas and his -powers, or from attempting to preserve beauty where it could not be -preserved, has in this respect succeeded very ill. His figures are often -engaged in subjects that required great expression; yet his Judith and -Holofernes, the daughter of Herodias with the Baptist’s head, the -Andromeda, and some even of the Mothers of the Innocents, have little -more expression than his Venus attired by the Graces. - -Obvious as these remarks appear, there are many writers on our art, who, -not being of the profession, and consequently not knowing what can or -cannot be done, have been very liberal of absurd praises in their -descriptions of favourite works. They always find in them what they are -resolved to find. They praise excellences that can hardly exist -together; and above all things are fond of describing with great -exactness the expression of a mixed passion, which more particularly -appears to me out of the reach of our art. - -Such are many disquisitions which I have read on some of the cartoons -and other pictures of Raffaelle, where the critics have described their -own imaginations; or indeed where the excellent master himself may have -attempted this expression of passions above the powers of the art; and -has, therefore, by an indistinct and imperfect marking, left room for -every imagination, with equal probability, to find a passion of his own. -What has been, and what can be done in the art, is sufficiently -difficult; we need not be mortified or discouraged at not being able to -execute the conceptions of a romantic imagination. Art has its -boundaries, though imagination has none. We can easily, like the -ancients, suppose a Jupiter to be possessed of all those powers and -perfections which the subordinate deities were endowed with separately. -Yet, when they employed their art to represent him, they confined his -character to majesty alone. Pliny, therefore, though we are under great -obligations to him for the information he has given us in relation to -the works of the ancient artists, is very frequently wrong when he -speaks of them, which he does very often, in the style of many of our -modern connoisseurs. He observes, that in a statue of Paris, by -Euphranor, you might discover at the same time three different -characters; the dignity of a Judge of the Goddesses, the Lover of Helen, -and the Conqueror of Achilles. A statue in which you endeavour to unite -stately dignity, youthful elegance, and stern valour, must surely -possess none of these to any eminent degree. - -From hence it appears, that there is much difficulty as well as danger, -in an endeavour to concentrate in a single subject those various powers, -which, rising from different points, naturally move in different -directions. - -The summit of excellence seems to be an assemblage of contrary -qualities, but mixed, in such proportions, that no one part is found to -counteract the other. How hard this is to be attained in every art, -those only know, who have made the greatest progress in their respective -professions. - -To conclude what I have to say on this part of the subject, which I -think of great importance, I wish you to understand, that I do not -discourage the younger students from the noble attempt of uniting all -the excellences of art; but suggest to them, that, besides the -difficulties which attend every arduous attempt, there is a peculiar -difficulty in the choice of the excellences which ought to be united. I -wish you to attend to this, that you may try yourselves, whenever you -are capable of that trial, what you can, and what you cannot do; and -that, instead of dissipating your natural faculties over the immense -field of possible excellence, you may choose some particular walk in -which you may exercise all your powers; in order that each of you may -become the first in his way. If any man shall be master of such a -transcendent, commanding, and ductile genius, as to enable him to rise -to the highest, and to stoop to the lowest, flights of art, and to sweep -over all of them unobstructed and secure, he is fitter to give example -than to receive instruction. - -Having said thus much on the _union_ of excellences, I will next say -something of the subordination in which various excellences ought to be -kept. - -I am of opinion, that the ornamental style, which in my discourse of -last year I cautioned you against, considering it as _principal_, may -not be wholly unworthy the attention even of those who aim at the grand -style, when it is properly placed and properly reduced. - -But this study will be used with far better effect, if its principles -are employed in softening the harshness and mitigating the rigour of the -great style, than if it attempt to stand forward with any pretensions of -its own to positive and original excellence. It was thus Lodovico -Caracci, whose example I formerly recommended to you, employed it. He -was acquainted with the works both of Correggio and the Venetian -painters, and knew the principles by which they produced those pleasing -effects which at the first glance prepossess us so much in their favour; -but he took only as much from each as would embellish, but not -overpower, that manly strength and energy of style, which is his -peculiar character. - -Since I have already expatiated so largely in my former discourse, and -in my present, upon the _styles_ and _characters_ of painting, it will -not be at all unsuitable to my subject if I mention to you some -particulars relative to the leading principles and capital works of -those who excelled in the _great style_; that I may bring you from -abstraction nearer to practice, and by exemplifying the positions which -I have laid down, enable you to understand more clearly what I would -enforce. - -The principal works of modern art are in _fresco_, a mode of painting -which excludes attention to minute elegances: yet these works in fresco -are the productions on which the fame of the greatest masters depends: -such are the pictures of Michael Angelo and Raffaelle in the Vatican; to -which we may add the cartoons; which, though not strictly to be called -fresco, yet may be put under that denomination; and such are the works -of Giulio Romano at Mantua. If these performances were destroyed, with -them would be lost the best part of the reputation of those illustrious -painters; for these are justly considered as the greatest efforts of our -art which the world can boast. To these, therefore, we should -principally direct our attention for higher excellences. As for the -lower arts, as they have been once discovered, they may be easily -attained by those possessed of the former. - -Raffaelle, who stands in general foremost of the first painters, owes -his reputation, as I have observed, to his excellence in the higher -parts of the art: his works in _fresco_, therefore, ought to be the -first object of our study and attention. His easel-works stand in a -lower degree of estimation: for though he continually, to the day of his -death, embellished his performances more and more with the addition of -those lower ornaments, which entirely make the merit of some painters, -yet he never arrived at such perfection as to make him an object of -imitation. He never was able to conquer perfectly that dryness, or even -littleness of manner, which he inherited from his master. He never -acquired that nicety of taste in colours, that breadth of light and -shadow, that art and management of uniting light to light, and shadow to -shadow, so as to make the object rise out of the ground with that -plenitude of effect so much admired in the works of Correggio. When he -painted in oil, his hand seemed to be so cramped and confined, that he -not only lost that facility and spirit, but I think even that -correctness of form, which is so perfect and admirable in his -fresco-works. I do not recollect any pictures of his of this kind, -except perhaps the Transfiguration, in which there are not some parts -that appear to be even feebly drawn. That this is not a necessary -attendant on oil-painting, we have abundant instances in more modern -painters. Lodovico Caracci, for instance, preserved in his works in oil -the same spirit, vigour, and correctness which he had in fresco. I have -no desire to degrade Raffaelle from the high rank which he deservedly -holds: but by comparing him with himself, he does not appear to me to be -the same man in oil as in fresco. - -From those who have ambition to tread in this great walk of the art, -Michael Angelo claims the next attention. He did not possess so many -excellences as Raffaelle, but those which he had were of the highest -kind. He considered the art as consisting of little more than what may -be attained by sculpture: correctness of form, and energy of character. -We ought not to expect more than an artist intends in his work. He never -attempted those lesser elegances and graces in the art. Vasari says, he -never painted but one picture in oil, and resolved never to paint -another, saying, it was an employment only fit for women and children. - -If any man had a right to look down upon the lower accomplishments as -beneath his attention, it was certainly Michael Angelo; nor can it be -thought strange, that such a mind should have slighted or have been -withheld from paying due attention to all those graces and -embellishments of art, which have diffused such lustre over the works of -other painters. - -It must be acknowledged, however, that together with these, which we -wish he had more attended to, he has rejected all the false, though -specious ornaments, which disgrace the works even of the most esteemed -artists; and I will venture to say, that when those higher excellences -are more known and cultivated by the artists and the patrons of arts, -his fame and credit will increase with our increasing knowledge. His -name will then be held in the same veneration as it was in the -enlightened age of Leo the Tenth: and it is remarkable that the -reputation of this truly great man has been continually declining as the -art itself has declined. For I must remark to you, that it has long been -much on the decline, and that our only hope of its revival will consist -in your being thoroughly sensible of its depravation and decay. It is to -Michael Angelo, that we owe even the existence of Raffaelle: it is to -him Raffaelle owes the grandeur of his style. He was taught by him to -elevate his thoughts, and to conceive his subjects with dignity. His -genius, however formed to blaze and to shine, might, like fire in -combustible matter, for ever have lain dormant, if it had not caught a -spark by its contact with Michael Angelo: and though it never burst out -with _his_ extraordinary heat and vehemence, yet it must be acknowledged -to be a more pure, regular, and chaste flame. Though our judgment must -upon the whole decide in favour of Raffaelle, yet he never takes such a -firm hold and entire possession of the mind as to make us desire nothing -else, and to feel nothing wanting. The effect of the capital works of -Michael Angelo perfectly corresponds to what Bouchardon said he felt -from reading Homer; his whole frame appeared to himself to be enlarged, -and all nature which surrounded him, diminished to atoms. - -If we put these great artists in a light of comparison with each other, -Raffaelle had more taste and fancy, Michael Angelo more genius and -imagination. The one excelled in beauty, the other in energy. Michael -Angelo has more of the poetical inspiration; his ideas are vast and -sublime; his people are a superior order of beings; there is nothing -about them, nothing in the air of their actions or their attitudes, or -the style and cast of their limbs or features, that reminds us of their -belonging to our own species. Raffaelle’s imagination is not so -elevated; his figures are not so much disjoined from our own diminutive -race of beings, though his ideas are chaste, noble, and of great -conformity to their subjects. Michael Angelo’s works have a strong, -peculiar, and marked character: they seem to proceed from his own mind -entirely, and that mind so rich and abundant, that he never needed, or -seemed to disdain, to look abroad for foreign help. Raffaelle’s -materials are generally borrowed, though the noble structure is his own. -The excellency of this extraordinary man lay in the propriety, beauty, -and majesty of his characters, the judicious contrivance of his -composition, his correctness of drawing, purity of taste, and skilful -accommodation of other men’s conceptions to his own purpose. Nobody -excelled him in that judgment, with which he united to his own -observations on nature, the energy of Michael Angelo, and the beauty and -simplicity of the antique. To the question, therefore, which ought to -hold the first rank, Raffaelle or Michael Angelo, it must be answered, -that if it is to be given to him who possessed a greater combination of -the higher qualities of the art than any other man, there is no doubt -but Raffaelle is the first. But if, as Longinus thinks, the sublime, -being the highest excellence that human composition can attain to, -abundantly compensates the absence of every other beauty, and atones for -all other deficiencies, then Michael Angelo demands the preference. - -These two extraordinary men carried some of the higher excellences of -the art to a greater degree of perfection than probably they ever -arrived at before. They certainly have not been excelled, nor equalled -since. Many of their successors were induced to leave this great road as -a beaten path, endeavouring to surprise and please by something uncommon -or new. When this desire of novelty has proceeded from mere idleness or -caprice, it is not worth the trouble of criticism; but when it has been -the result of a busy mind of a peculiar complexion, it is always -striking and interesting, never insipid. - -Such is the great style, as it appears in those who possessed it at its -height: in this, search after novelty, in conception or in treating the -subject, has no place. - -But there is another style, which, though inferior to the former, has -still great merit, because it shows that those who cultivated it were -men of lively and vigorous imagination. This, which may be called the -original or characteristical style, being less referred to any true -archetype existing either in general or particular nature, must be -supported by the painter’s consistency in the principles which he has -assumed, and in the union and harmony of his whole design. The -excellency of every style, but of the subordinate styles more -especially, will very much depend on preserving that union and harmony -between all the component parts, that they may appear to hang well -together, as if the whole proceeded from one mind. It is in the works of -art, as in the characters of men. The faults or defects of some men -seem to become them, when they appear to be the natural growth, and of a -piece with the rest of their character. A faithful picture of a mind, -though it be not of the most elevated kind, though it be irregular, -wild, and incorrect, yet if it be marked with that spirit and firmness -which characterises works of genius, will claim attention, and be more -striking than a combination of excellences that do not seem to unite -well together; or we may say, than a work that possesses even all -excellences, but those in a moderate degree. - -One of the strongest-marked characters of this kind, which must be -allowed to be subordinate to the great style, is that of Salvator Rosa. -He gives us a peculiar cast of nature, which, though void of all grace, -elegance, and simplicity, though it has nothing of that elevation and -dignity which belongs to the grand style, yet has that sort of dignity -which belongs to savage and uncultivated nature: but what is most to be -admired in him is the perfect correspondence which he observed between -the subjects which he chose and his manner of treating them. Everything -is of a piece: his rocks, trees, sky, even to his handling, have the -same rude and wild character which animates his figures. - -With him we may contrast the character of Carlo Maratti, who, in my -opinion, had no great vigour of mind or strength of original genius. He -rarely seizes the imagination by exhibiting the higher excellences, nor -does he captivate us by that originality which attends the painter who -thinks for himself. He knew and practised all the rules of art, and from -a composition of Raffaelle, Caracci, and Guido, made up a style, of -which the only fault was, that it had no manifest defects and no -striking beauties; and that the principles of his composition are never -blended together, so as to form one uniform body, original in its kind, -or excellent in any view. - -I will mention two other painters, who, though entirely dissimilar, yet -by being each consistent with himself, and possessing a manner entirely -his own, have both gained reputation, though for very opposite -accomplishments. The painters I mean are Rubens and Poussin. Rubens I -mention in this place, as I think him a remarkable instance of the same -mind being seen in all the various parts of the art. The whole is so -much of a piece, that one can scarce be brought to believe but that if -any one of the qualities he possessed had been more correct and perfect, -his works would not have been so complete as they now appear. If we -should allow him a greater purity and correctness of drawing, his want -of simplicity in composition, colouring, and drapery would appear more -gross. - -In his composition his art is too apparent. His figures have expression, -and act with energy, but without simplicity or dignity. His colouring, -in which he is eminently skilled, is notwithstanding too much of what we -call tinted. Throughout the whole of his works, there is a -proportionable want of that nicety of distinction and elegance of mind, -which is required in the higher walks of painting; and to this want it -may be in some degree ascribed, that those qualities which make the -excellency of this subordinate style, appear in him with their greatest -lustre. Indeed the facility with which he invented, the richness of his -composition, the luxuriant harmony and brilliancy of his colouring, so -dazzle the eye, that whilst his works continue before us, we cannot help -thinking that all his deficiencies are fully supplied.[7] - -Opposed to this florid, careless, loose, and inaccurate style, that of -the simple, careful, pure, and correct style of Poussin seems to be a -complete contrast. Yet however opposite their characters, in one thing -they agreed; both of them always preserving a perfect correspondence -between all the parts of their respective manners: insomuch that it may -be doubted whether any alteration of what is considered as defective in -either, would not destroy the effect of the whole. - -Poussin lived and conversed with the ancient statues so long, that he -may be said to have been better acquainted with them, than with the -people who were about him. I have often thought that he carried his -veneration for them so far as to wish to give his works the air of -ancient paintings. It is certain he copied some of the antique -paintings, particularly the Marriage in the Aldobrandini Palace at Rome, -which I believe to be the best relic of those remote ages that has yet -been found. - -No works of any modern has so much of the air of antique painting as -those of Poussin. His best performances have a remarkable dryness of -manner, which though by no means to be recommended for imitation, yet -seems perfectly correspondent to that ancient simplicity which -distinguishes his style. Like Polidoro, he studied the ancients so much, -that he acquired a habit of thinking in their way, and seemed to know -perfectly the actions and gestures they would use on every occasion. - -Poussin in the latter part of his life changed from his dry manner to -one much softer and richer, where there is a greater union between the -figures and ground; as in the Seven Sacraments in the Duke of Orleans’s -collection; but neither these, nor any of his other pictures in this -manner, are at all comparable to many in his dry manner which we have -in England. - -The favourite subjects of Poussin were ancient fables; and no painter -was ever better qualified to paint such subjects, not only from his -being eminently skilled in the knowledge of the ceremonies, customs and -habits of the ancients, but from his being so well acquainted with the -different characters which those who invented them gave to their -allegorical figures. Though Rubens has shown great fancy in his Satyrs, -Silenuses, and Fauns, yet they are not that distinct separate class of -beings, which is carefully exhibited by the ancients, and by Poussin. -Certainly when such subjects of antiquity are represented, nothing in -the picture ought to remind us of modern times. The mind is thrown back -into antiquity, and nothing ought to be introduced that may tend to -awaken it from the illusion. - -Poussin seemed to think that the style and the language in which such -stories are told, is not the worse for preserving some relish of the old -way of painting, which seemed to give a general uniformity to the whole, -so that the mind was thrown back into antiquity not only by the subject, -but the execution. - -If Poussin in imitation of the ancients represents Apollo driving his -chariot out of the sea by way of representing the sun rising, if he -personifies lakes and rivers, it is nowise offensive in him; but seems -perfectly of a piece with the general air of the picture. On the -contrary, if the figures which people his pictures had a modern air or -countenance, if they appeared like our countrymen, if the draperies were -like cloth or silk of our manufacture, if the landscape had the -appearance of a modern view, how ridiculous would Apollo appear instead -of the sun; an old man, or a nymph with an urn, to represent a river or -a lake! - -I cannot avoid mentioning here a circumstance in portrait-painting, -which may help to confirm what has been said. When a portrait is painted -in the historical style, as it is neither an exact minute representation -of an individual, nor completely ideal, every circumstance ought to -correspond to this mixture. The simplicity of the antique air and -attitude, however much to be admired, is ridiculous when joined to a -figure in a modern dress. It is not to my purpose to enter into the -question at present, whether this mixed style ought to be adopted or -not; yet if it is chosen, ’tis necessary it should be complete and all -of a piece: the difference of stuffs, for instance, which make the -clothing, should be distinguished in the same degree as the head -deviates from a general idea. Without this union, which I have so often -recommended, a work can have no marked and determined character, which -is the peculiar and constant evidence of genius. But when this is -accomplished to a high degree, it becomes in some sort a rival to that -style which we have fixed as the highest. - -Thus I have given a sketch of the characters of Rubens and Salvator -Rosa, as they appear to me to have the greatest uniformity of mind -throughout their whole work. But we may add to these, all those artists -who are at the head of a class, and have had a school of imitators, from -Michael Angelo down to Watteau. Upon the whole it appears, that setting -aside the ornamental style, there are two different modes, either of -which a student may adopt without degrading the dignity of his art. The -object of the first is, to combine the higher excellences and embellish -them to the greatest advantage; of the other, to carry one of these -excellences to the highest degree. But those who possess neither must be -classed with them, who, as Shakspeare says, are _men of no mark or -likelihood_. - -I inculcate as frequently as I can your forming yourselves upon great -principles and great models. Your time will be much mis-spent in every -other pursuit. Small excellences should be viewed, not studied; they -ought to be viewed, because nothing ought to escape a painter’s -observation: but for no other reason. - -There is another caution which I wish to give you. Be as select in those -whom you endeavour to please, as in those whom you endeavour to imitate. -Without the love of fame you can never do anything excellent; but by an -excessive and undistinguishing thirst after it, you will come to have -vulgar views; you will degrade your style; and your taste will be -entirely corrupted. It is certain that the lowest style will be the most -popular, as it falls within the compass of ignorance itself; and the -vulgar will always be pleased with what is natural, in the confined and -misunderstood sense of the word. - -One would wish that such depravation of taste should be counteracted -with that manly pride which actuated Euripides when he said to the -Athenians who criticised his works, “I do not compose my works in order -to be corrected by you, but to instruct you.” It is true, to have a -right to speak thus, a man must be a Euripides. However, thus much may -be allowed, that when an artist is sure that he is upon firm ground, -supported by the authority and practice of his predecessors of the -greatest reputation, he may then assume the boldness and intrepidity of -genius; at any rate he must not be tempted out of the right path by any -allurement of popularity, which always accompanies the lower styles of -painting. - -I mention this, because our exhibitions, while they produce such -admirable effects by nourishing emulation, and calling out genius, have -also a mischievous tendency, by seducing the painter to an ambition of -pleasing indiscriminately the mixed multitude of people who resort to -them. - - - - -DISCOURSE VI - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 10, 1774._ - - Imitation.--Genius begins where Rules end.--Invention:--Acquired by - being conversant with the Inventions of Others.--The True Method of - Imitating.--Borrowing, how far allowable.--Something to be gathered - from every School. - - - GENTLEMEN, - -When I have taken the liberty of addressing you on the course and order -of your studies, I never proposed to enter into a minute detail of the -art. This I have always left to the several professors, who pursue the -end of our institution with the highest honour to themselves, and with -the greatest advantage to the students. - -My purpose in the discourses I have held in the Academy has been to lay -down certain general positions, which seem to me proper for the -formation of a sound taste: principles necessary to guard the pupils -against those errors, into which the sanguine temper common to their -time of life has a tendency to lead them; and which have rendered -abortive the hopes of so many successions of promising young men in all -parts of Europe. I wished also, to intercept and suppress those -prejudices which particularly prevail when the mechanism of painting is -come to its perfection; and which, when they do prevail, are certain -utterly to destroy the higher and more valuable parts of this literate -and liberal profession. - -These two have been my principal purposes; they are still as much my -concern as ever; and if I repeat my own notions on the subject, you who -know how fast mistake and prejudice, when neglected, gain ground upon -truth and reason, will easily excuse me. I only attempt to set the same -thing in the greatest variety of lights. - -The subject of this discourse will be Imitation, as far as a painter is -concerned in it. By imitation, I do not mean imitation in its largest -sense, but simply the following of other masters, and the advantage to -be drawn from the study of their works. - -Those who have undertaken to write on our art, and have represented it -as a kind of _inspiration_, as a _gift_ bestowed upon peculiar -favourites at their birth, seem to insure a much more favourable -disposition from their readers, and have a much more captivating and -liberal air, than he who attempts to examine, coldly, whether there are -any means by which this art may be acquired; how the mind may be -strengthened and expanded, and what guides will show the way to -eminence. - -It is very natural for those who are unacquainted with the _cause_ of -anything extraordinary, to be astonished at the _effect_, and to -consider it as a kind of magic. They, who have never observed the -gradation by which art is acquired; who see only what is the full result -of long labour and application of an infinite number and infinite -variety of acts, are apt to conclude from their entire inability to do -the same at once, that it is not only inaccessible to themselves, but -can be done by those only who have some gift of the nature of -inspiration bestowed upon them. - -The travellers into the East tell us, that when the ignorant inhabitants -of those countries are asked concerning the ruins of stately edifices -yet remaining amongst them, the melancholy monuments of their former -grandeur and long-lost science, they always answer, that they were built -by magicians. The untaught mind finds a vast gulf between its own -powers, and those works of complicated art, which it is utterly unable -to fathom; and it supposes that such a void can be passed only by -supernatural powers. - -And, as for artists themselves, it is by no means their interest to -undeceive such judges, however conscious they may be of the very natural -means by which their extraordinary powers were acquired; though our art, -being intrinsically imitative, rejects this idea of inspiration, more -perhaps than any other. - -It is to avoid this plain confession of truth, as it should seem, that -this imitation of masters, indeed almost all imitation, which implies a -more regular and progressive method of attaining the ends of painting, -has ever been particularly inveighed against with great keenness, both -by ancient and modern writers. - -To derive all from native power, to owe nothing to another, is the -praise which men, who do not much think on what they are saying, bestow -sometimes upon others, and sometimes on themselves; and their imaginary -dignity is naturally heightened by a supercilious censure of the low, -the barren, the grovelling, the servile imitator. It would be no wonder -if a student, frightened by these terrific and disgraceful epithets, -with which the poor imitators are so often loaded, should let fall his -pencil in mere despair (conscious as he must be, how much he has been -indebted to the labours of others, how little, how very little of his -art was born with him); and consider it as hopeless, to set about -acquiring by the imitation of any human master, what he is taught to -suppose is matter of inspiration from heaven. - -Some allowance must be made for what is said in the gaiety of rhetoric. -We cannot suppose that anyone can really mean to exclude all imitation -of others. A position so wild would scarce deserve a serious answer; for -it is apparent, if we were forbid to make use of the advantages which -our predecessors afford us, the art would be always to begin, and -consequently remain always in its infant state; and it is a common -observation, that no art was ever invented and carried to perfection at -the same time. - -But to bring us entirely to reason and sobriety, let it be observed, -that a painter must not only be of necessity an imitator of the works of -nature, which alone is sufficient to dispel this phantom of inspiration, -but he must be as necessarily an imitator of the works of other -painters: this appears more humiliating, but is equally true; and no man -can be an artist, whatever he may suppose, upon any other terms. - -However, those who appear more moderate and reasonable allow that our -study is to begin by imitation; but maintain that we should no longer -use the thoughts of our predecessors, when we are become able to think -for ourselves. They hold that imitation is as hurtful to the more -advanced student, as it was advantageous to the beginner. - -For my own part, I confess, I am not only very much disposed to maintain -the absolute necessity of imitation in the first stages of the art; but -am of opinion, that the study of other masters, which I here call -imitation, may be extended throughout our whole lives, without any -danger of the inconveniences with which it is charged, of enfeebling the -mind, or preventing us from giving that original air which every work -undoubtedly ought always to have. - -I am on the contrary persuaded, that by imitation only, variety, and -even originality of invention, is produced. I will go further; even -genius, at least what generally is so called, is the child of imitation. -But as this appears to be contrary to the general opinion, I must -explain my position before I enforce it. - -Genius is supposed to be a power of producing excellences, which are out -of the reach of the rules of art; a power which no precepts can teach, -and which no industry can acquire. - -This opinion of the impossibility of acquiring those beauties, which -stamp the work with the character of genius, supposes that it is -something more fixed than in reality it is; and that we always do, and -ever did agree in opinion, with respect to what should be considered as -the characteristic of genius. But the truth is, that the _degree_ of -excellence which proclaims _genius_ is different, in different times and -different places; and what shows it to be so is, that mankind have often -changed their opinion upon this matter. - -When the arts were in their infancy, the power of merely drawing the -likeness of any object was considered as one of its greatest efforts. -The common people, ignorant of the principles of art, talk the same -language even to this day. But when it was found that every man could be -taught to do this, and a great deal more, merely by the observance of -certain precepts; the name of genius then shifted its application, and -was given only to him who added the peculiar character of the object he -represented; to him who had invention, expression, grace, or dignity; in -short, those qualities, or excellences, the power of producing which -could not _then_ be taught by any known and promulgated rules. - -We are very sure that the beauty of form, the expression of the -passions, the art of composition, even the power of giving a general air -of grandeur to a work, is at present very much under the dominion of -rules. These excellences were, heretofore, considered merely as the -effects of genius; and justly, if genius is not taken for inspiration, -but as the effect of close observation and experience. - -He who first made any of these observations, and digested them, so as to -form an invariable principle for himself to work by, had that merit, but -probably no one went very far at once; and generally, the first who gave -the hint, did not know how to pursue it steadily and methodically; at -least not in the beginning. He himself worked on it, and improved it; -others worked more, and improved further; until the secret was -discovered, and the practice made as general, as refined practice can be -made. How many more principles may be fixed and ascertained, we cannot -tell; but as criticism is likely to go hand in hand with the art which -is its subject, we may venture to say, that as that art shall advance, -its powers will be still more and more fixed by rules. - -But by whatever strides criticism may gain ground, we need be under no -apprehension, that invention will ever be annihilated, or subdued; or -intellectual energy be brought entirely within the restraint of written -law. Genius will still have room enough to expatiate, and keep always at -the same distance from narrow comprehension and mechanical performance. - -What we now call genius begins, not where rules, abstractedly taken, -end; but where known vulgar and trite rules have no longer any place. It -must of necessity be, that even works of genius, like every other -effect, as they must have their cause, must likewise have their rules; -it cannot be by chance, that excellences are produced with any constancy -or any certainty, for this is not the nature of chance; but the rules by -which men of extraordinary parts, and such as are called men of genius, -work, are either such as they discover by their own peculiar -observations, or of such a nice texture as not easily to admit being -expressed in words; especially as artists are not very frequently -skilful in that mode of communicating ideas. Unsubstantial, however, as -these rules may seem, and difficult as it may be to convey them in -writing, they are still seen and felt in the mind of the artist; and he -works from them with as much certainty, as if they were embodied, as I -may say, upon paper. It is true, these refined principles cannot be -always made palpable, like the more gross rules of art; yet it does not -follow, but that the mind may be put in such a train, that it shall -perceive, by a kind of scientific sense, that propriety, which words, -particularly words of unpractised writers, such as we are, can but very -feebly suggest. - -Invention is one of the great marks of genius; but if we consult -experience, we shall find, that it is by being conversant with the -inventions of others, that we learn to invent; as by reading the -thoughts of others we learn to think. - -Whoever has so far formed his taste, as to be able to relish and feel -the beauties of the great masters, has gone a great way in his study; -for, merely from a consciousness of this relish of the right, the mind -swells with an inward pride, and is almost as powerfully affected, as if -it had itself produced what it admires. Our hearts, frequently warmed in -this manner by the contact of those whom we wish to resemble, will -undoubtedly catch something of their way of thinking; and we shall -receive in our own bosoms some radiation at least of their fire and -splendour. That disposition, which is so strong in children, still -continues with us, of catching involuntarily the general air and manner -of those with whom we are most conversant; with this difference only, -that a young mind is naturally pliable and imitative; but in a more -advanced state it grows rigid, and must be warmed and softened, before -it will receive a deep impression. - -From these considerations, which a little of your own reflection will -carry a great way further, it appears, of what great consequence it is, -that our minds should be habituated to the contemplation of excellence; -and that, far from being contented to make such habits the discipline of -our youth only, we should, to the last moment of our lives, continue a -settled intercourse with all the true examples of grandeur. Their -inventions are not only the food of our infancy, but the substance which -supplies the fullest maturity of our vigour. - -The mind is but a barren soil; a soil which is soon exhausted, and will -produce no crop, or only one, unless it be continually fertilised and -enriched with foreign matter. - -When we have had continually before us the great works of art to -impregnate our minds with kindred ideas, we are then, and not till then, -fit to produce something of the same species. We behold all about us -with the eyes of those penetrating observers whose works we contemplate; -and our minds, accustomed to think the thoughts of the noblest and -brightest intellects, are prepared for the discovery and selection of -all that is great and noble in nature. The greatest natural genius -cannot subsist on its own stock: he who resolves never to ransack any -mind but his own, will be soon reduced, from mere barrenness, to the -poorest of all imitations; he will be obliged to imitate himself, and to -repeat what he has before often repeated. When we know the subject -designed by such men, it will never be difficult to guess what kind of -work is to be produced. - -It is vain for painters or poets to endeavour to invent without -materials on which the mind may work, and from which invention must -originate. Nothing can come of nothing. - -Homer is supposed to be possessed of all the learning of his time: and -we are certain that Michael Angelo and Raffaelle were equally possessed -of all the knowledge in the art which had been discovered in the works -of their predecessors. - -A mind enriched by an assemblage of all the treasures of ancient and -modern art will be more elevated and fruitful in resources, in -proportion to the number of ideas which have been carefully collected -and thoroughly digested. There can be no doubt but that he who has the -most materials has the greatest means of invention; and if he has not -the power of using them, it must proceed from a feebleness of intellect, -or from the confused manner in which those collections have been laid up -in his mind. - -The addition of other men’s judgment is so far from weakening our own, -as is the opinion of many, that it will fashion and consolidate those -ideas of excellence which lay in embryo, feeble, ill-shaped, and -confused, but which are finished and put in order by the authority and -practice of those, whose works may be said to have been consecrated by -having stood the test of ages. - -The mind, or genius, has been compared to a spark of fire, which is -smothered by a heap of fuel, and prevented from blazing into a flame. -This simile, which is made use of by the younger Pliny, may be easily -mistaken for argument or proof. But there is no danger of the mind’s -being overburdened with knowledge, or the genius extinguished by any -addition of images; on the contrary, these acquisitions may as well, -perhaps better, be compared, if comparisons signified anything in -reasoning, to the supply of living embers, which will contribute to -strengthen the spark, that without the association of more fuel would -have died away. The truth is, he whose feebleness is such, as to make -other men’s thoughts an incumbrance to him, can have no very great -strength of mind or genius of his own to be destroyed; so that not much -harm will be done at worst. - -We may oppose to Pliny the greater authority of Cicero, who is -continually enforcing the necessity of this method of study. In his -dialogue on Oratory, he makes Crassus say, that one of the first and -most important precepts is, to choose a proper model for our imitation. -_Hoc sit primum in præceptis meis, ut demonstremus quem imitemur._ - -When I speak of the habitual imitation and continued study of masters, -it is not to be understood, that I advise any endeavour to copy the -exact peculiar colour and complexion of another man’s mind; the success -of such an attempt must always be like his, who imitates exactly the -air, manner, and gestures, of him whom he admires. His model may be -excellent, but the copy will be ridiculous; this ridicule does not arise -from his having imitated, but from his not having chosen the right mode -of imitation. - -It is necessary and warrantable pride to disdain to walk servilely -behind any individual, however elevated his rank. The true and liberal -ground of imitation is an open field; where, though he who precedes has -had the advantage of starting before you, you may always propose to -overtake him: it is enough, however, to pursue his course; you need not -tread in his footsteps; and you certainly have a right to outstrip him -if you can. - -Nor whilst I recommend studying the art from artists, can I be supposed -to mean, that nature is to be neglected: I take this study in aid, and -not in exclusion, of the other. Nature is, and must be the fountain -which alone is inexhaustible; and from which all excellences must -originally flow. - -The great use of studying our predecessors is, to open the mind, to -shorten our labour, and to give us the result of the selection made by -those great minds of what is grand or beautiful in nature: her rich -stores are all spread out before us; but it is an art, and no easy art, -to know how or what to choose, and how to attain and secure the object -of our choice. Thus the highest beauty of form must be taken from -nature; but it is an art of long deduction, and great experience, to -know how to find it. We must not content ourselves with merely admiring -and relishing; we must enter into the principles on which the work is -wrought: these do not swim on the superficies, and consequently are not -open to superficial observers. - -Art in its perfection is not ostentatious; it lies hid, and works its -effect, itself unseen. It is the proper study and labour of an artist to -uncover and find out the latent cause of conspicuous beauties, and from -thence form principles of his own conduct: such an examination is a -continual exertion of the mind; as great, perhaps, as that of the artist -whose works he is thus studying. - -The sagacious imitator does not content himself with merely remarking -what distinguishes the different manner or genius of each master; he -enters into the contrivance in the composition how the masses of lights -are disposed, the means by which the effect is produced, how artfully -some parts are lost in the ground, others boldly relieved, and how all -these are mutually altered and interchanged according to the reason and -scheme of the work. He admires not the harmony of colouring alone, but -examines by what artifice one colour is a foil to its neighbour. He -looks close into the tints, examines of what colours they are composed, -till he has formed clear and distinct ideas, and has learned to see in -what harmony and good colouring consists. What is learned in this manner -from the works of others, becomes really our own, sinks deep, and is -never forgotten; nay, it is by seizing on this clue that we proceed -forward, and get further and further in enlarging the principles and -improving the practice of our art. - -There can be no doubt, but the art is better learnt from the works -themselves, than from the precepts which are formed upon those works; -but if it is difficult to choose proper models for imitation, it -requires no less circumspection to separate and distinguish what in -those models we ought to imitate. - -I cannot avoid mentioning here, though it is not my intention at present -to enter into the art and method of study, an error which students are -too apt to fall into. He that is forming himself, must look with great -caution and wariness on those peculiarities, or prominent parts, which -at first force themselves upon view; and are the marks, or what is -commonly called the manner, by which that individual artist is -distinguished. - -Peculiar marks, I hold to be, generally, if not always, defects; however -difficult it may be wholly to escape them. - -Peculiarities in the works of art are like those in the human figure: it -is by them that we are cognisable and distinguished one from another, -but they are always so many blemishes; which, however, both in real life -and in painting, cease to appear deformities, to those who have them -continually before their eyes. In the works of art, even the most -enlightened mind, when warmed by beauties of the highest kind, will by -degrees find a repugnance within him to acknowledge any defects; nay, -his enthusiasm will carry him so far, as to transform them into -beauties, and objects of imitation. - -It must be acknowledged, that a peculiarity of style, either from its -novelty, or by seeming to proceed from a peculiar turn of mind, often -escapes blame; on the contrary, it is sometimes striking and pleasing: -but this it is a vain labour to endeavour to imitate; because novelty -and peculiarity being its only merit, when it ceases to be new, it -ceases to have value. - -A manner therefore being a defect, and every painter, however excellent, -having a manner, it seems to follow, that all kinds of faults, as well -as beauties, may be learned under the sanction of the greatest -authorities. Even the great name of Michael Angelo may be used, to keep -in countenance a deficiency or rather neglect of colouring, and every -other ornamental part of the art. If the young student is dry and hard, -Poussin is the same. If his work has a careless and unfinished air, he -has most of the Venetian school to support him. If he makes no selection -of objects, but takes individual nature just as he finds it, he is like -Rembrandt. If he is incorrect in the proportions of his figures, -Correggio was likewise incorrect. If his colours are not blended and -united, Rubens was equally crude. In short, there is no defect that may -not be excused, if it is a sufficient excuse that it can be imputed to -considerable artists; but it must be remembered, that it was not by -these defects they acquired their reputation; they have a right to our -pardon, but not to our admiration. - -However, to imitate peculiarities or mistake defects for beauties, that -man will be most liable, who confines his imitation to one favourite -master; and even though he chooses the best, and is capable of -distinguishing the real excellences of his model, it is not by such -narrow practice, that a genius or mastery in the art is acquired. A man -is as little likely to form a true idea of the perfection of the art, -by studying a single artist, as he would be to produce a perfectly -beautiful figure, by an exact imitation of any individual living model. -And as the painter, by bringing together in one piece, those beauties -which are dispersed among a great variety of individuals, produces a -figure more beautiful than can be found in nature, so that artist who -can unite in himself the excellences of the various great painters, will -approach nearer to perfection than any one of his masters. He, who -confines himself to the imitation of an individual, as he never proposes -to surpass, so he is not likely to equal, the object of his imitation. -He professes only to follow; and he that follows must necessarily be -behind. - -We should imitate the conduct of the great artists in the course of -their studies, as well as the works which they produced, when they were -perfectly formed. Raffaelle began by imitating implicitly the manner of -Pietro Perugino, under whom he studied; hence his first works are scarce -to be distinguished from his master’s; but soon forming higher and more -extensive views, he imitated the grand outline of Michael Angelo; he -learned the manner of using colours from the works of Leonardo da Vinci, -and Fratre Bartolomeo: to all this he added the contemplation of all the -remains of antiquity that were within his reach; and employed others to -draw for him what was in Greece and distant places. And it is from his -having taken so many models, that he became himself a model for all -succeeding painters; always imitating, and always original. - -If your ambition, therefore, be to equal Raffaelle, you must do as -Raffaelle did; take many models, and not even _him_ for your guide -alone, to the exclusion of others.[8] And yet the number is infinite of -those who seem, if one may judge by their style, to have seen no other -works but those of their master, or of some favourite, whose _manner_ is -their first wish, and their last. - -I will mention a few that occur to me of this narrow, confined, -illiberal, unscientific, and servile kind of imitators. Guido was thus -meanly copied by Elizabetta, Sirani, and Simone Cantarina; Poussin, by -Verdier and Cheron; Parmeggiano, by Jeronimo Mazzuoli. Paolo Veronese -and Iacomo Bassan had for their imitators their brothers and sons. -Pietro da Cortona was followed by Ciro Ferri and Romanelli; Rubens, by -Jacques Jordaens and Diepenbeke; Guercino, by his own family, the -Gennari. Carlo Maratti was imitated by Giuseppe Chiari and Pietro da -Pietri; and Rembrandt, by Bramer, Eeckhout, and Flink. All these, to -whom may be added a much longer list of painters, whose works among the -ignorant pass for those of their masters, are justly to be censured for -barrenness and servility. - -To oppose to this list a few that have adopted a more liberal style of -imitation;--Pellegrino Tibaldi, Rosso, and Primaticcio, did not coldly -imitate, but caught something of the fire that animates the works of -Michael Angelo. The Caraccis formed their style from Pellegrino Tibaldi, -Correggio, and the Venetian school. Domenichino, Guido, Lanfranco, -Albano, Guercino, Cavidone, Schidone, Tiarini, though it is sufficiently -apparent that they came from the school of the Caraccis, have yet the -appearance of men who extended their views beyond the model that lay -before them, and have shown that they had opinions of their own, and -thought for themselves, after they had made themselves masters of the -general principles of their schools. - -Le Sueur’s first manner resembles very much that of his master Voüet: -but as he soon excelled him, so he differed from him in every part of -the art. Carlo Maratti succeeded better than those I have first named, -and I think owes his superiority to the extension of his views; beside -his master Andrea Sacchi, he imitated Raffaelle, Guido, and the -Caraccis. It is true, there is nothing very captivating in Carlo -Maratti; but this proceeded from a want which cannot be completely -supplied; that is, want of strength of parts. In this certainly men are -not equal; and a man can bring home wares only in proportion to the -capital with which he goes to market. Carlo, by diligence, made the most -of what he had; but there was undoubtedly a heaviness about him, which -extended itself, uniformly, to his invention, expression, his drawing, -colouring, and the general effect of his pictures. The truth is, he -never equalled any of his patterns in any one thing, and he added little -of his own. - -But we must not rest contented even in this general study of the -moderns; we must trace back the art to its fountain-head; to that source -from whence they drew their principal excellences, the monuments of pure -antiquity. All the inventions and thoughts of the ancients, whether -conveyed to us in statues, bas-reliefs, intaglios, cameos, or coins, are -to be sought after and carefully studied; the genius that hovers over -these venerable relics, may be called the father of modern art. - -From the remains of the works of the ancients the modern arts were -revived, and it is by their means that they must be restored a second -time. However it may mortify our vanity, we must be forced to allow them -our masters; and we may venture to prophesy, that when they shall cease -to be studied, arts will no longer flourish, and we shall again relapse -into barbarism. - -The fire of the artist’s own genius operating upon these materials which -have been thus diligently collected, will enable him to make new -combinations, perhaps, superior to what had ever before been in the -possession of the art: as in the mixture of the variety of metals, which -are said to have been melted and run together at the burning of Corinth, -a new and till then unknown metal was produced, equal in value to any of -those that had contributed to its composition. And though a curious -refiner should come with his crucibles, analyse and separate its various -component parts, yet Corinthian brass would still hold its rank amongst -the most beautiful and valuable of metals. - -We have hitherto considered the advantages of imitation as it tends to -form the taste, and as a practice by which a spark of that genius may be -caught, which illumines those noble works that ought always to be -present to our thoughts. - -We come now to speak of another kind of imitation; the borrowing a -particular thought, an action, attitude, or figure, and transplanting it -into your own work; this will either come under the charge of -plagiarism, or be warrantable, and deserve commendation, according to -the address with which it is performed. There is some difference -likewise, whether it is upon the ancients or moderns that these -depredations are made. It is generally allowed, that no man need be -ashamed of copying the ancients: their works are considered as a -magazine of common property, always open to the public, whence every man -has a right to take what materials he pleases; and if he has the art of -using them, they are supposed to become to all intents and purposes his -own property. The collection of the thoughts of the ancients, which -Raffaelle made with so much trouble, is a proof of his opinion on this -subject. Such collections may be made with much more ease, by means of -an art scarce known in his time; I mean that of engraving; by which, at -an easy rate, every man may now avail himself of the inventions of -antiquity. - -It must be acknowledged that the works of the moderns are more the -property of their authors. He, who borrows an idea from an ancient, or -even from a modern artist not his contemporary, and so accommodates it -to his own work, that it makes a part of it, with no seam or joining -appearing, can hardly be charged with plagiarism: poets practise this -kind of borrowing, without reserve. But an artist should not be -contented with this only; he should enter into a competition with his -original, and endeavour to improve what he is appropriating to his own -work. Such imitation is so far from having anything in it of the -servility of plagiarism, that it is a perpetual exercise of the mind, a -continual invention. Borrowing or stealing with such art and caution -will have a right to the same lenity as was used by the Lacedemonians; -who did not punish theft, but the want of artifice to conceal it. - -In order to encourage you to imitation, to the utmost extent, let me -add, that very finished artists in the inferior branches of the art will -contribute to furnish the mind and give hints, of which a skilful -painter, who is sensible of what he wants, and is in no danger of being -infected by the contact of vicious models, will know how to avail -himself. He will pick up from dung-hills what by a nice chemistry, -passing through his own mind, shall be converted into pure gold; and -under the rudeness of Gothic essays, he will find original, rational, -and even sublime inventions. - -The works of Albert Dürer, Lucas Van Leyden, the numerous inventions of -Tobias Stimmer and Jost Ammon, afford a rich mass of genuine materials, -which wrought up and polished to elegance, will add copiousness to what, -perhaps, without such aid, could have aspired only to justness and -propriety. - -In the luxuriant style of Paul Veronese, in the capricious compositions -of Tintoret, he will find something that will assist his invention, and -give points, from which his own imagination shall rise and take flight, -when the subject which he treats will with propriety admit of splendid -effects. - -In every school, whether Venetian, French, or Dutch, he will find, -either ingenious compositions, extraordinary effects, some peculiar -expressions, or some mechanical excellence, well worthy of his -attention, and, in some measure, of his imitation. Even in the lower -class of the French painters great beauties are often found, united with -great defects. Though Coypel wanted a simplicity of taste, and mistook a -presumptuous and assuming air for what is grand and majestic; yet he -frequently has good sense and judgment in his manner of telling his -stories, great skill in his compositions, and is not without a -considerable power of expressing the passions. The modern affectation of -grace in his works, as well as in those of Bosch and Watteau, may be -said to be separated, by a very thin partition, from the more simple and -pure grace of Correggio and Parmegiano. - -Among the Dutch painters, the correct, firm, and determined pencil, -which was employed by Bamboccio and Jean Miel, on vulgar and mean -subjects, might, without any change, be employed on the highest; to -which, indeed, it seems more properly to belong. The greatest style, if -that style is confined to small figures, such as Poussin generally -painted, would receive an additional grace by the elegance and precision -of pencil so admirable in the works of Teniers; and though the school to -which he belonged more particularly excelled in the mechanism of -painting; yet it produced many, who have shown great abilities in -expressing what must be ranked above mechanical excellences. In the -works of Frans Hals, the portrait-painter may observe the composition of -a face, the features well put together, as the painters express it; from -whence proceeds that strong-marked character of individual nature, which -is so remarkable in his portraits, and is not found in an equal degree -in any other painter. If he had joined to this most difficult part of -the art, a patience in finishing what he had so correctly planned, he -might justly have claimed the place which Vandyck, all things -considered, so justly holds as the first of portrait-painters. - -Others of the same school have shown great power in expressing the -character and passions of those vulgar people, which were the subjects -of their study and attention. Among those Jan Steen seems to be one of -the most diligent and accurate observers of what passed in those scenes -which he frequented, and which were to him an academy. I can easily -imagine, that if this extraordinary man had had the good fortune to have -been born in Italy instead of Holland, had he lived in Rome instead of -Leyden, and been blessed with Michael Angelo and Raffaelle for his -masters instead of Brouwer and Van Goyen; the same sagacity and -penetration which distinguished so accurately the different characters -and expression in his vulgar figures, would, when exerted in the -selection and imitation of what was great and elevated in nature, have -been equally successful; and he now would have ranged with the great -pillars and supporters of our art. - -Men who, although thus bound down by the almost invincible powers of -early habits, have still exerted extraordinary abilities within their -narrow and confined circle; and have, from the natural vigour of their -mind, given a very interesting expression and great force and energy to -their works; though they cannot be recommended to be exactly imitated, -may yet invite an artist to endeavour to transfer, by a kind of parody, -their excellences to his own performances. Whoever has acquired the -power of making this use of the Flemish, Venetian, and French schools, -is a real genius, and has sources of knowledge open to him which were -wanting to the great artists who lived in the great age of painting. - -To find excellences, however dispersed; to discover beauties, however -concealed by the multitude of defects with which they are surrounded, -can be the work only of him who, having a mind always alive to his art, -has extended his views to all ages and to all schools; and has acquired -from that comprehensive mass which he has thus gathered to himself, a -well-digested and perfect idea of his art, to which everything is -referred. Like a sovereign judge and arbiter of art, he is possessed of -that presiding power which separates and attracts every excellence from -every school; selects both from what is great, and what is little; -brings home knowledge from the East and from the West; making the -universe tributary towards furnishing his mind and enriching his works -with originality and variety of inventions. - -Thus I have ventured to give my opinion of what appears to me the true -and only method by which an artist makes himself master of his -profession; which I hold ought to be one continued course of imitation, -that is not to cease but with his life. - -Those, who either from their own engagements and hurry of business, or -from indolence, or from conceit and vanity, have neglected looking out -of themselves, as far as my experience and observation reaches, have -from that time, not only ceased to advance, and improve in their -performances, but have gone backward. They may be compared to men who -have lived upon their principal, till they are reduced to beggary, and -left without resources. - -I can recommend nothing better, therefore, than that you endeavour to -infuse into your works what you learn from the contemplation of the -works of others. To recommend this has the appearance of needless and -superfluous advice; but it has fallen within my own knowledge, that -artists, though they were not wanting in a sincere love for their art, -though they had great pleasure in seeing good pictures, and were well -skilled to distinguish what was excellent or defective in them, yet have -gone on in their own manner, without any endeavour to give a little of -those beauties, which they admired in others, to their own works. It is -difficult to conceive how the present Italian painters, who live in the -midst of the treasures of art, should be contented with their own style. -They proceed in their commonplace inventions, and never think it worth -while to visit the works of those great artists with which they are -surrounded. - -I remember, several years ago, to have conversed at Rome with an artist -of great fame throughout Europe; he was not without a considerable -degree of abilities, but those abilities were by no means equal to his -own opinion of them. From the reputation he had acquired, he too fondly -concluded that he stood in the same rank, when compared with his -predecessors, as he held with regard to his miserable contemporary -rivals. In conversation about some particulars of the works of -Raffaelle, he seemed to have, or to affect to have, a very obscure -memory of them. He told me that he had not set his foot in the Vatican -for fifteen years together; that he had been in treaty to copy a capital -picture of Raffaelle, but that the business had gone off; however, if -the agreement had held, his copy would have greatly exceeded the -original. The merit of this artist, however great we may suppose it, I -am sure would have been far greater, and his presumption would have -been far less, if he had visited the Vatican, as in reason he ought to -have done, at least once every month of his life. - -I address myself, gentlemen, to you who have made some progress in the -art, and are to be, for the future, under the guidance of your own -judgment and discretion. I consider you as arrived at that period, when -you have a right to think for yourselves, and to presume that every man -is fallible; to study the masters with a suspicion, that great men are -not always exempt from great faults; to criticise, compare, and rank -their works in your own estimation, as they approach to, or recede from, -that standard of perfection which you have formed in your own minds, but -which those masters themselves, it must be remembered, have taught you -to make; and which you will cease to make with correctness, when you -cease to study them. It is their excellences which have taught you their -defects. - -I would wish you to forget where you are, and who it is that speaks to -you; I only direct you to higher models and better advisers. We can -teach you here but very little; you are henceforth to be your own -teachers. Do this justice, however, to the English Academy; to bear in -mind, that in this place you contracted no narrow habits, no false -ideas, nothing that could lead you to the imitation of any living -master, who may be the fashionable darling of the day. As you have not -been taught to flatter us, do not learn to flatter yourselves. We have -endeavoured to lead you to the admiration of nothing but what is truly -admirable. If you choose inferior patterns, or if you make your own -_former_ works your patterns for your _latter_, it is your own fault. - -The purport of this discourse, and, indeed, of most of my other -discourses, is, to caution you against that false opinion, but too -prevalent among artists, of the imaginary powers of native genius, and -its sufficiency in great works. This opinion, according to the temper of -mind it meets with, almost always produces, either a vain confidence, or -a sluggish despair, both equally fatal to all proficiency. - -Study therefore the great works of the great masters, for ever. Study as -nearly as you can, in the order, in the manner, and on the principles, -on which they studied. Study nature attentively, but always with those -masters in your company; consider them as models which you are to -imitate, and at the same time as rivals with whom you are to contend. - - - - -DISCOURSE VII - - _Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the - Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1776._ - - The Reality of a Standard of Taste, as well as of Corporal Beauty. - Besides this Immutable Truth, there are Secondary Truths, which are - Variable; both requiring the Attention of the Artist, in Proportion - to their Stability or their Influence. - - - GENTLEMEN, - -It has been my uniform endeavour, since I first addressed you from this -place, to impress you strongly with one ruling idea. I wished you to be -persuaded, that success in your art depends almost entirely on your own -industry; but the industry which I principally recommended, is not the -industry of the _hands_, but of the _mind_. - -As our art is not a divine _gift_, so neither is it a mechanical -_trade_. Its foundations are laid in solid science: and practice, though -essential to perfection, can never attain that to which it aims, unless -it works under the direction of principle. - -Some writers upon art carry this point too far, and suppose that such a -body of universal and profound learning is requisite, that the very -enumeration of its kinds is enough to frighten a beginner. Vitruvius, -after going through the many accomplishments of nature, and the many -acquirements of learning, necessary to an architect, proceeds with great -gravity to assert that he ought to be well skilled in the civil law; -that he may not be cheated in the title of the ground he builds on. But -without such exaggeration we may go so far as to assert that a painter -stands in need of more knowledge than is to be picked off his palette, -or collected by looking on his model, whether it be in life or in -picture. He can never be a great artist, who is grossly illiterate. - -Every man whose business is description ought to be tolerably conversant -with the poets, in some language or other; that he may imbibe a poetical -spirit, and enlarge his stock of ideas. He ought to acquire a habit of -comparing and digesting his notions. He ought not to be wholly -unacquainted with that part of philosophy which gives an insight into -human nature, and relates to the manners, characters, passions, and -affections. He ought to know _something_ concerning the mind, as well as -_a great deal_ concerning the body of man. For this purpose, it is not -necessary that he should go into such a compass of reading, as must, by -distracting his attention, disqualify him for the practical part of his -profession, and make him sink the performer in the critic. Reading, if -it can be made the favourite recreation of his leisure hours, will -improve and enlarge his mind, without retarding his actual industry. -What such partial and desultory reading cannot afford, may be supplied -by the conversation of learned and ingenious men, which is the best of -all substitutes for those who have not the means or opportunities of -deep study. There are many such men in this age; and they will be -pleased with communicating their ideas to artists, when they see them -curious and docile, if they are treated with that respect and deference -which is so justly their due. Into such society, young artists, if they -make it the point of their ambition, will by degrees be admitted. There, -without formal teaching, they will insensibly come to feel and reason -like those they live with, and find a rational and systematic taste -imperceptibly formed in their minds, which they will know how to reduce -to a standard, by applying general truth to their own purposes, better -perhaps than those to whom they owed the original sentiment. - -Of these studies, and this conversation, the desire and legitimate -offspring is a power of distinguishing right from wrong; which power, -applied to works of art, is denominated Taste. Let me then, without -further introduction, enter upon an examination, whether taste be so far -beyond our reach, as to be unattainable by care; or be so very vague and -capricious, that no care ought to be employed about it. - -It has been the fate of arts to be enveloped in mysterious and -incomprehensible language, as if it was thought necessary that even the -terms should correspond to the idea entertained of the instability and -uncertainty of the rules which they expressed. - -To speak of genius and taste, as in any way connected with reason or -common sense, would be, in the opinion of some towering talkers, to -speak like a man who possessed neither; who had never felt that -enthusiasm, or, to use their own inflated language, was never warmed by -that Promethean fire, which animates the canvas and vivifies the marble. - -If, in order to be intelligible, I appear to degrade art by bringing her -down from her visionary situation in the clouds, it is only to give her -a more solid mansion upon the earth. It is necessary that at some time -or other we should see things as they really are, and not impose on -ourselves by that false magnitude with which objects appear when viewed -indistinctly as through a mist. - -We will allow a poet to express his meaning, when his meaning is not -well known to himself, with a certain degree of obscurity, as it is one -source of the sublime. But when, in plain prose, we gravely talk of -courting the Muse in shady bowers; waiting the call and inspiration of -genius, finding out where he inhabits, and where he is to be invoked -with the greatest success; of attending to times and seasons when the -imagination shoots with the greatest vigour, whether at the summer -solstice or the vernal equinox; sagaciously observing how much the wild -freedom and liberty of imagination is cramped by attention to -established rules; and how this same imagination begins to grow dim in -advanced age, smothered and deadened by too much judgment; when we talk -such language, or entertain such sentiments as these, we generally rest -contented with mere words, or at best entertain notions not only -groundless but pernicious. - -If all this means, what it is very possible was originally intended only -to be meant, that in order to cultivate an art, a man secludes himself -from the commerce of the world, and retires into the country at -particular seasons; or that at one time of the year his body is in -better health, and consequently his mind fitter for the business of hard -thinking than at another time; or that the mind may be fatigued and grow -confused by long and unremitted application; this I can understand. I -can likewise believe, that a man eminent when young for possessing -poetical imagination, may, from having taken another road, so neglect -its cultivation, as to show less of its powers in his latter life. But -I am persuaded, that scarce a poet is to be found, from Homer down to -Dryden, who preserved a sound mind in a sound body, and continued -practising his profession to the very last, whose latter works are not -as replete with the fire of imagination, as those which were produced in -his more youthful days. - -To understand literally these metaphors or ideas expressed in poetical -language seems to be equally absurd as to conclude, that because -painters sometimes represent poets writing from the dictates of a little -winged boy or genius, that this same genius did really inform him in a -whisper what he was to write; and that he is himself but a mere machine, -unconscious of the operations of his own mind. - -Opinions generally received and floating in the world, whether true or -false, we naturally adopt and make our own; they may be considered as a -kind of inheritance to which we succeed and are tenants for life, and -which we leave to our posterity very nearly in the condition in which we -received it; it not being much in any one man’s power either to impair -or improve it. The greatest part of these opinions, like current coin in -its circulation, we are used to take without weighing or examining; but -by this inevitable inattention many adulterated pieces are received, -which, when we seriously estimate our wealth, we must throw away. So the -collector of popular opinions, when he embodies his knowledge, and forms -a system, must separate those which are true from those which are only -plausible. But it becomes more peculiarly a duty to the professors of -art not to let any opinions relating to _that_ art pass unexamined. The -caution and circumspection required in such examination we shall -presently have an opportunity of explaining. - -Genius and taste, in their common acceptation, appear to be very nearly -related; the difference lies only in this, that genius has superadded -to it a habit or power of execution: or we may say, that taste, when -this power is added, changes its name, and is called genius. They both, -in the popular opinion, pretend to an entire exemption from the -restraint of rules. It is supposed that their powers are intuitive; that -under the name of genius great works are produced, and under the name of -taste an exact judgment is given, without our knowing why, and without -our being under the least obligation to reason, precept, or experience. - -One can scarce state these opinions without exposing their absurdity; -yet they are constantly in the mouths of men, and particularly of -artists. They who have thought seriously on this subject do not carry -the point so far; yet I am persuaded, that even among those few who may -be called thinkers, the prevalent opinion allows less than it ought to -the powers of reason; and considers the principles of taste, which give -all their authority to the rules of art, as more fluctuating, and as -having less solid foundations, than we shall find, upon examination, -they really have. - -The common saying, that _tastes are not to be disputed_, owes its -influence, and its general reception, to the same error which leads us -to imagine this faculty of too high an original to submit to the -authority of an earthly tribunal. It likewise corresponds with the -notions of those who consider it as a mere phantom of the imagination, -so devoid of substance as to elude all criticism. - -We often appear to differ in sentiments from each other, merely from the -inaccuracy of terms, as we are not obliged to speak always with critical -exactness. Something of this too may arise from want of words in the -language in which we speak, to express the more nice discriminations -which a deep investigation discovers. A great deal, however, of this -difference vanishes when each opinion is tolerably explained and -understood, by constancy and precision in the use of terms. - -We apply the term Taste to that act of the mind by which we like or -dislike, whatever be the subject. Our judgment upon an airy nothing, a -fancy which has no foundation, is called by the same name which we give -to our determination concerning those truths which refer to the most -general and most unalterable principles of human nature; to the works -which are only to be produced by the greatest efforts of the human -understanding. However inconvenient this may be, we are obliged to take -words as we find them; all we can do is to distinguish the things to -which they are applied. - -We may let pass those things which are at once subjects of taste and -sense, and which, having as much certainty as the senses themselves, -give no occasion to inquiry or dispute. The natural appetite or taste of -the human mind is for Truth; whether that truth results from the real -agreement or equality of original ideas among themselves; from the -agreement of the representation of any object with the thing -represented; or from the correspondence of the several parts of any -arrangement with each other. It is the very same taste which relishes a -demonstration in geometry, that is pleased with the resemblance of a -picture to an original, and touched with the harmony of music. - -All these have unalterable and fixed foundations in nature, and are -therefore equally investigated by reason, and known by study; some with -more, some with less clearness, but all exactly in the same way. A -picture that is unlike is false. Disproportionate ordonnance of parts is -not right; because it cannot be true, until it ceases to be a -contradiction to assert, that the parts have no relation to the whole. -Colouring is true, when it is naturally adapted to the eye, from -brightness, from softness, from harmony, from resemblance; because these -agree with their object, Nature, and therefore are true; as true as -mathematical demonstration; but known to be true only to those who study -these things. - -But besides real, there is also apparent truth, or opinion, or -prejudice. With regard to real truth, when it is known, the taste which -conforms to it is, and must be, uniform. With regard to the second sort -of truth, which may be called truth upon sufferance, or truth by -courtesy, it is not fixed, but variable. However, whilst these opinions -and prejudices, on which it is founded, continue, they operate as truth; -and the art, whose office it is to please the mind, as well as instruct -it, must direct itself according to opinion, or it will not attain its -end. - -In proportion as these prejudices are known to be generally diffused, or -long received, the taste which conforms to them approaches nearer to -certainty, and to a sort of resemblance to real science, even where -opinions are found to be no better than prejudices. And since they -deserve, on account of their duration and extent, to be considered as -really true, they become capable of no small degree of stability and -determination, by their permanent and uniform nature. - -As these prejudices become more narrow, more local, more transitory, -this secondary taste becomes more and more fantastical; recedes from -real science; is less to be approved by reason, and less followed in -practice; though in no case perhaps to be wholly neglected, where it -does not stand, as it sometimes does, in direct defiance of the most -respectable opinions received amongst mankind. - -Having laid down these positions, I shall proceed with less method, -because less will serve to explain and apply them. - -We will take it for granted, that reason is something invariable and -fixed in the nature of things; and without endeavouring to go back to an -account of first principles, which for ever will elude our search, we -will conclude, that whatever goes under the name of taste, which we can -fairly bring under the dominion of reason, must be considered as equally -exempt from change. If therefore, in the course of this inquiry, we can -show that there are rules for the conduct of the artist which are fixed -and invariable, it follows of course, that the art of the connoisseur, -or, in other words, taste, has likewise invariable principles. - -Of the judgment which we make on the works of art, and the preference -that we give to one class of art over another, if a reason be demanded, -the question is perhaps evaded by answering, I judge from my taste; but -it does not follow that a better answer cannot be given, though, for -common gazers, this may be sufficient. Every man is not obliged to -investigate the causes of his approbation or dislike. - -The arts would lie open for ever to caprice and casualty, if those who -are to judge of their excellences had no settled principles by which -they are to regulate their decisions, and the merit or defect of -performances were to be determined by unguided fancy. And indeed we may -venture to assert, that whatever speculative knowledge is necessary to -the artist, is equally and indispensably necessary to the connoisseur. - -The first idea that occurs in the consideration of what is fixed in art, -or in taste, is that presiding principle of which I have so frequently -spoken in former discourses--the general idea of nature. The beginning, -the middle, and the end of everything that is valuable in taste, is -comprised in the knowledge of what is truly nature; for whatever -notions are not conformable to those of nature, or universal opinion, -must be considered as more or less capricious. - -My notion of nature comprehends not only the forms which nature -produces, but also the nature and internal fabric and organisation, as I -may call it, of the human mind and imagination. The terms beauty, or -nature, which are general ideas, are but different modes of expressing -the same thing, whether we apply these terms to statues, poetry, or -pictures. Deformity is not nature, but an accidental deviation from her -accustomed practice. This general idea therefore ought to be called -nature; and nothing else, correctly speaking, has a right to that name. -But we are so far from speaking, in common conversation, with any such -accuracy, that, on the contrary, when we criticise Rembrandt and other -Dutch painters, who introduced into their historical pictures exact -representations of individual objects with all their imperfections, we -say,--though it is not in a good taste, yet it is nature. - -This misapplication of terms must be very often perplexing to the young -student. Is not art, he may say, an imitation of nature? Must he not -therefore, who imitates her with the greatest fidelity, be the best -artist? By this mode of reasoning Rembrandt has a higher place than -Raffaelle. But a very little reflection will serve to show us, that -these particularities cannot be nature: for how can that be the nature -of man, in which no two individuals are the same? - -It plainly appears, that as a work is conducted under the influence of -general ideas, or partial, it is principally to be considered as the -effect of a good or a bad taste. - -As beauty therefore does not consist in taking what lies immediately -before you, so neither, in our pursuit of taste, are those opinions -which we first received and adopted, the best choice, or the most -natural to the mind and imagination. In the infancy of our knowledge we -seize with greediness the good that is within our reach; it is by -after-consideration, and in consequence of discipline, that we refuse -the present for a greater good at a distance. The nobility or elevation -of all arts, like the excellence of virtue itself, consists in adopting -this enlarged and comprehensive idea; and all criticism built upon the -more confined view of what is natural, may properly be called _shallow_ -criticism, rather than false: its defect is, that the truth is not -sufficiently extensive. - -It has sometimes happened, that some of the greatest men in our art have -been betrayed into errors by this confined mode of reasoning. Poussin, -who, upon the whole, may be produced as an artist strictly attentive to -the most enlarged and extensive ideas of nature, from not having settled -principles on this point, has in one instance at least, I think, -deserted truth for prejudice. He is said to have vindicated the conduct -of Giulio Romano for his inattention to the masses of light and shade, -or grouping the figures in the Battle of Constantine, as if designedly -neglected, the better to correspond with the hurry and confusion of a -battle. Poussin’s own conduct in many of his pictures makes us more -easily give credit to this report. That it was too much his own -practice, the Sacrifice to Silenus, and the Triumph of Bacchus and -Ariadne,[9] may be produced as instances; but this principle is still -more apparent, and may be said to be even more ostentatiously displayed, -in his Perseus and Medusa’s Head.[10] - -This is undoubtedly a subject of great bustle and tumult, and that the -first effect of the picture may correspond to the subject, every -principle of composition is violated; there is no principal figure, no -principal light, no groups; everything is dispersed, and in such a state -of confusion, that the eye finds no repose anywhere. In consequence of -the forbidding appearance, I remember turning from it with disgust, and -should not have looked a second time, if I had not been called back to a -closer inspection. I then indeed found, what we may expect always to -find in the works of Poussin, correct drawing, forcible expression, and -just character; in short, all the excellences which so much distinguish -the works of this learned painter. - -This conduct of Poussin I hold to be entirely improper to imitate. A -picture should please at first sight, and appear to invite the -spectator’s attention: if on the contrary the general effect offends the -eye, a second view is not always sought, whatever more substantial and -intrinsic merit it may possess. - -Perhaps no apology ought to be received for offences committed against -the vehicle (whether it be the organ of seeing or of hearing) by which -our pleasures are conveyed to the mind. We must take care that the eye -be not perplexed and distracted by a confusion of equal parts, or equal -lights, or offended by an unharmonious mixture of colours, as we should -guard against offending the ear by unharmonious sounds. We may venture -to be more confident of the truth of this observation, since we find -that Shakspeare, on a parallel occasion, has made Hamlet recommend to -the players a precept of the same kind,--never to offend the ear by -harsh sounds: _In the very torrent, tempest, and whirlwind of your -passion_, says he, _you must acquire and beget a temperance that may -give it smoothness_. And yet, at the same time, he very justly -observes, _The end of playing, both at the first and now, was and is, to -hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature_. No one can deny, that violent -passions will naturally emit harsh and disagreeable tones: yet this -great poet and critic thought that this imitation of nature would cost -too much, if purchased at the expense of disagreeable sensations, or, as -he expresses it, of _splitting the ear_. The poet and actor, as well as -the painter of genius who is well acquainted with all the variety and -sources of pleasure in the mind and imagination, has little regard or -attention to common nature, or creeping after common sense. By -overleaping those narrow bounds, he more effectually seizes the whole -mind, and more powerfully accomplishes his purpose. This success is -ignorantly imagined to proceed from inattention to all rules, and a -defiance of reason and judgment; whereas it is in truth acting according -to the best rules and the justest reason. - -He who thinks nature, in the narrow sense of the word, is alone to be -followed, will produce but a scanty entertainment for the imagination: -everything is to be done with which it is natural for the mind to be -pleased, whether it proceeds from simplicity or variety, uniformity or -irregularity; whether the scenes are familiar or exotic; rude and wild, -or enriched and cultivated; for it is natural for the mind to be pleased -with all these in their turn. In short, whatever pleases has in it what -is analogous to the mind, and is therefore, in the highest and best -sense of the word, natural. - -It is the sense of nature or truth, which ought more particularly to be -cultivated by the professors of art; and it may be observed, that many -wise and learned men, who have accustomed their minds to admit nothing -for truth but what can be proved by mathematical demonstration, have -seldom any relish for those arts which address themselves to the fancy, -the rectitude and truth of which is known by another kind of proof: and -we may add, that the acquisition of this knowledge requires as much -circumspection and sagacity, as is necessary to attain those truths -which are more capable of demonstration. Reason must ultimately -determine our choice on every occasion; but this reason may still be -exerted ineffectually by applying to taste principles which, though -right as far as they go, yet do not reach the object. No man, for -instance, can deny, that it seems at first view very reasonable, that a -statue which is to carry down to posterity the resemblance of an -individual, should be dressed in the fashion of the times, in the dress -which he himself wore: this would certainly be true, if the dress were -part of the man: but after a time, the dress is only an amusement for an -antiquarian; and if it obstructs the general design of the piece, it is -to be disregarded by the artist. Common sense must here give way to a -higher sense. In the naked form, and in the disposition of the drapery, -the difference between one artist and another is principally seen. But -if he is compelled to exhibit the modern dress, the naked form is -entirely hid, and the drapery is already disposed by the skill of the -tailor. Were a Phidias to obey such absurd commands, he would please no -more than an ordinary sculptor; since, in the inferior parts of every -art, the learned and the ignorant are nearly upon a level. - -These were probably among the reasons that induced the sculptor of that -wonderful figure of Laocoon to exhibit him naked, notwithstanding he was -surprised in the act of sacrificing to Apollo, and consequently ought to -have been shown in his sacerdotal habits, if those greater reasons had -not preponderated. Art is not yet in so high estimation with us, as to -obtain so great a sacrifice as the ancients made, especially the -Grecians; who suffered themselves to be represented naked, whether they -were generals, lawgivers, or kings. - -Under this head of balancing and choosing the greater reason, or of two -evils taking the least, we may consider the conduct of Rubens in the -Luxembourg gallery, where he has mixed allegorical figures with the -representations of real personages, which must be acknowledged to be a -fault; yet, if the artist considered himself as engaged to furnish this -gallery with a rich, various, and splendid ornament, this could not be -done, at least in an equal degree, without peopling the air and water -with these allegorical figures: he therefore accomplished all that he -purposed. In this case all lesser considerations, which tend to obstruct -the great end of the work, must yield and give way. - -The variety which portraits and modern dresses, mixed with allegorical -figures, produce, is not to be slightly given up upon a punctilio of -reason, when that reason deprives the art in a manner of its very -existence. It must always be remembered that the business of a great -painter is to produce a great picture; he must therefore take special -care not to be cajoled by specious arguments out of his materials. - -What has been so often said to the disadvantage of allegorical -poetry,--that it is tedious and uninteresting,--cannot with the same -propriety be applied to painting, where the interest is of a different -kind. If allegorical painting produces a greater variety of ideal -beauty, a richer, a more various and delightful composition, and gives -to the artist a greater opportunity of exhibiting his skill, all the -interest he wishes for is accomplished; such a picture not only -attracts, but fixes the attention. - -If it be objected that Rubens judged ill at first in thinking it -necessary to make his work so very ornamental, this puts the question -upon new ground. It was his peculiar style; he could paint in no other; -and he was selected for that work, probably, because it was his style. -Nobody will dispute but some of the best of the Roman or Bolognian -schools would have produced a more learned and more noble work. - -This leads us to another important province of taste, that of weighing -the value of the different classes of the art, and of estimating them -accordingly. - -All arts have means within them of applying themselves with success both -to the intellectual and sensitive part of our natures. It cannot be -disputed, supposing both these means put in practice with equal -abilities, to which we ought to give the preference; to him who -represents the heroic arts and more dignified passions of man, or to him -who, by the help of meretricious ornaments, however elegant and -graceful, captivates the sensuality, as it may be called, of our taste. -Thus the Roman and Bolognian schools are reasonably preferred to the -Venetian, Flemish or Dutch schools, as they address themselves to our -best and noblest faculties. - -Well-turned periods in eloquence, or harmony of numbers in poetry, which -are in those arts what colouring is in painting, however highly we may -esteem them, can never be considered as of equal importance with the art -of unfolding truths that are useful to mankind, and which make us better -or wiser. Nor can those works which remind us of the poverty and -meanness of our nature, be considered as of equal rank with what excites -ideas of grandeur, or raises and dignifies humanity; or, in the words of -a late poet, which makes the beholder learn to venerate himself as -man.[11] - -It is reason and good sense, therefore, which ranks and estimates every -art, and every part of that art, according to its importance, from the -painter of animated, down to inanimated nature. We will not allow a man, -who shall prefer the inferior style, to say it is his taste; taste here -has nothing, or at least ought to have nothing, to do with the question. -He wants not taste, but sense, and soundness of judgment. - -Indeed perfection in an inferior style may be reasonably preferred to -mediocrity in the highest walks of art. A landscape of Claude Lorrain -may be preferred to a history by Luca Giordano; but hence appears the -necessity of the connoisseur’s knowing in what consists the excellence -of each class, in order to judge how near it approaches to perfection. - -Even in works of the same kind, as in history-painting, which is -composed of various parts, excellence of an inferior species, carried to -a very high degree, will make a work very valuable, and in some measure -compensate for the absence of the higher kinds of merit. It is the duty -of the connoisseur to know and esteem, as much as it may deserve, every -part of painting: he will not then think even Bassano unworthy of his -notice; who, though totally devoid of expression, sense, grace, or -elegance, may be esteemed on account of his admirable taste of colours, -which, in his best works, are little inferior to those of Titian. - -Since I have mentioned Bassano, we must do him likewise the justice to -acknowledge, that though he did not aspire to the dignity of expressing -the characters and passions of men, yet, with respect to facility and -truth in his manner of touching animals of all kinds, and giving them -what painters call _their character_, few have ever excelled him. - -To Bassano we may add Paul Veronese and Tintoret, for their entire -inattention to what is justly thought the most essential part of our -art, the expression of the passions. Notwithstanding these glaring -deficiencies, we justly esteem their works; but it must be remembered, -that they do not please from those defects, but from their great -excellences of another kind, and in spite of such transgressions. These -excellences too, as far as they go, are founded in the truth of -_general_ nature: they tell the _truth_, though not _the whole truth_. - -By these considerations, which can never be too frequently impressed, -may be obviated two errors, which I observed to have been, formerly at -least, the most prevalent, and to be most injurious to artists; that of -thinking taste and genius to have nothing to do with reason, and that of -taking particular living objects for nature. - -I shall now say something on that part of _taste_, which, as I have -hinted to you before, does not belong so much to the external form of -things, but is addressed to the mind, and depends on its original frame, -or to use the expression, the organisation of the soul; I mean the -imagination and the passions. The principles of these are as invariable -as the former, and are to be known and reasoned upon in the same manner, -by an appeal to common sense deciding upon the common feelings of -mankind. This sense, and these feelings, appear to me of equal -authority, and equally conclusive. Now this appeal implies a general -uniformity and agreement in the minds of men. It would be else an idle -and vain endeavour to establish rules of art; it would be pursuing a -phantom, to attempt to move affections with which we were entirely -unacquainted. We have no reason to suspect there is a greater difference -between our minds than between our forms; of which, though there are no -two alike, yet there is a general similitude that goes through the whole -race of mankind; and those who have cultivated their taste, can -distinguish what is beautiful or deformed, or, in other words, what -agrees with or deviates from the general idea of nature, in one case, as -well as in the other. - -The internal fabric of our minds, as well as the external form of our -bodies, being nearly uniform; it seems then to follow of course, that as -the imagination is incapable of producing anything originally of itself, -and can only vary and combine those ideas with which it is furnished by -means of the senses, there will be necessarily an agreement in the -imaginations, as in the senses of men. There being this agreement, it -follows, that in all cases, in our lightest amusements, as well as in -our most serious actions and engagements of life, we must regulate our -affections of every kind by that of others. The well-disciplined mind -acknowledges this authority, and submits its own opinion to the public -voice. It is from knowing what are the general feelings and passions of -mankind, that we acquire a true idea of what imagination is; though it -appears as if we had nothing to do but to consult our own particular -sensations, and these were sufficient to ensure us from all error and -mistake. - -A knowledge of the disposition and character of the human mind can be -acquired only by experience: a great deal will be learned, I admit, by a -habit of examining what passes in our bosoms, what are our own motives -of action, and of what kind of sentiments we are conscious on any -occasion. We may suppose a uniformity, and conclude that the same effect -will be produced by the same cause in the minds of others. This -examination will contribute to suggest to us matters of inquiry; but we -can never be sure that our own sensations are true and right, till they -are confirmed by more extensive observation. One man opposing another -determines nothing; but a general union of minds, like a general -combination of the forces of all mankind, makes a strength that is -irresistible. In fact, as he who does not know himself, does not know -others, so it may be said with equal truth, that he who does not know -others, knows himself but very imperfectly. - -A man who thinks he is guarding himself against prejudices by resisting -the authority of others, leaves open every avenue to singularity, -vanity, self-conceit, obstinacy, and many other vices, all tending to -warp the judgment, and prevent the natural operation of his faculties. -This submission to others is a deference which we owe, and indeed are -forced involuntarily to pay. In fact, we never are satisfied with our -opinions, whatever we may pretend, till they are ratified and confirmed -by the suffrages of the rest of mankind. We dispute and wrangle for -ever; we endeavour to get men to come to us, when we do not go to them. - -He therefore who is acquainted with the works which have pleased -different ages and different countries, and has formed his opinion on -them, has more materials, and more means of knowing what is analogous to -the mind of man, than he who is conversant only with the works of his -own age or country. What has pleased, and continues to please, is likely -to please again: hence are derived the rules of art, and on this -immovable foundation they must ever stand. - -This search and study of the history of the mind ought not to be -confined to one art only. It is by the analogy that one art bears to -another, that many things are ascertained, which either were but faintly -seen, or, perhaps, would not have been discovered at all, if the -inventor had not received the first hints from the practices of a sister -art on a similar occasion.[12] The frequent allusions which every man -who treats of any art is obliged to make to others, in order to -illustrate and confirm his principles, sufficiently show their near -connection and inseparable relation. - -All arts having the same general end, which is to please; and addressing -themselves to the same faculties through the medium of the senses; it -follows that their rules and principles must have as great affinity, as -the different materials and the different organs or vehicles by which -they pass to the mind, will permit them to retain.[13] - -We may therefore conclude, that the real substance, as it may be called, -of what goes under the name of taste, is fixed and established in the -nature of things; that there are certain and regular causes by which the -imagination and passions of men are affected; and that the knowledge of -these causes is acquired by a laborious and diligent investigation of -nature, and by the same slow progress as wisdom or knowledge of every -kind, however instantaneous its operations may appear when thus -acquired. - -It has been often observed, that the good and virtuous man alone can -acquire this true or just relish even of works of art. This opinion will -not appear entirely without foundation, when we consider that the same -habit of mind, which is acquired by our search after truth in the more -serious duties of life, is only transferred to the pursuit of lighter -amusements. The same disposition, the same desire to find something -steady, substantial, and durable, on which the mind can lean as it were, -and rest with safety, actuates us in both cases. The subject only is -changed. We pursue the same method in our search after the idea of -beauty and perfection in each; of virtue, by looking forwards beyond -ourselves to society, and to the whole; of arts, by extending our views -in the same manner to all ages and all times. - -Every art, like our own, has in its composition fluctuating as well as -fixed principles. It is an attentive inquiry into their difference that -will enable us to determine how far we are influenced by custom and -habit, and what is fixed in the nature of things. - -To distinguish how much has solid foundation, we may have recourse to -the same proof by which some hold that wit ought to be tried; whether it -preserves itself when translated. That wit is false, which can subsist -only in one language; and that picture which pleases only one age or one -nation owes its reception to some local or accidental association of -ideas. - -We may apply this to every custom and habit of life. Thus the general -principles of urbanity, politeness, or civility, have been the same in -all nations; but the mode in which they are dressed is continually -varying. The general idea of showing respect is by making yourself less; -but the manner, whether by bowing the body, kneeling, prostration, -pulling off the upper part of our dress, or taking away the lower,[14] -is a matter of custom. - -Thus, in regard to ornaments,--it would be unjust to conclude that -because they were at first arbitrarily contrived, they are therefore -undeserving of our attention; on the contrary, he who neglects the -cultivation of those ornaments, acts contrary to nature and reason. As -life would be imperfect without its highest ornaments, the arts, so -these arts themselves would be imperfect without _their_ ornaments. -Though we by no means ought to rank these with positive and substantial -beauties, yet it must be allowed, that a knowledge of both is -essentially requisite towards forming a complete, whole and perfect -taste. It is in reality from the ornaments, that arts receive their -peculiar character and complexion; we may add, that in them we find the -characteristical mark of a national taste; as by throwing up a feather -in the air, we know which way the wind blows, better than by a more -heavy matter. - -The striking distinction between the works of the Roman, Bolognian, and -Venetian schools, consists more in that general effect which is produced -by colours, than in the more profound excellences of the art; at least -it is from thence that each is distinguished and known at first sight. -Thus it is the ornaments, rather than the proportions of architecture, -which at the first glance distinguish the different orders from each -other; the Doric is known by its triglyphs, the Ionic by its volutes, -and the Corinthian by its acanthus. - -What distinguishes oratory from a cold narration is a more liberal, -though chaste, use of those ornaments which go under the name of -figurative and metaphorical expressions; and poetry distinguishes itself -from oratory, by words and expressions still more ardent and glowing. -What separates and distinguishes poetry is more particularly the -ornament of _verse_: it is this which gives it its character, and is an -essential without which it cannot exist. Custom has appropriated -different metre to different kinds of composition, in which the world is -not perfectly agreed. In England the dispute is not yet settled, which -is to be preferred, rhyme or blank verse. But however we disagree about -what these metrical ornaments shall be, that some metre is essentially -necessary is universally acknowledged. - -In poetry or eloquence, to determine how far figurative or metaphorical -language may proceed, and when it begins to be affectation or beside the -truth, must be determined by taste; though this taste, we must never -forget, is regulated and formed by the presiding feelings of -mankind,--by those works which have approved themselves to all times and -all persons. Thus, though eloquence has undoubtedly an essential and -intrinsic excellence, and immovable principles common to all languages, -founded in the nature of our passions and affections; yet it has its -ornaments and modes of address, which are merely arbitrary. What is -approved in the eastern nations as grand and majestic, would be -considered by the Greeks and Romans as turgid and inflated; and they, in -return, would be thought by the Orientals to express themselves in a -cold and insipid manner. - -We may add likewise to the credit of ornaments, that it is by their -means that art itself accomplishes its purpose. Fresnoy calls colouring, -which is one of the chief ornaments of painting, _lena sororis_, that -which procures lovers and admirers to the more valuable excellences of -the art. - -It appears to be the same right turn of mind which enables a man to -acquire the _truth_, or the just idea of what is right, in the -ornaments, as in the more stable principles of art. It has still the -same centre of perfection, though it is the centre of a smaller circle. - -To illustrate this by the fashion of dress, in which there is allowed to -be a good or bad taste. The component parts of dress are continually -changing from great to little, from short to long; but the general form -still remains; it is still the same general dress, which is -comparatively fixed, though on a very slender foundation; but it is on -this which fashion must rest. He who invents with the most success, or -dresses in the best taste, would probably, from the same sagacity -employed to greater purposes, have discovered equal skill, or have -formed the same correct taste, in the highest labours of art. - -I have mentioned taste in dress, which is certainly one of the lowest -subjects to which this word is applied; yet, as I have before observed, -there is a right even here, however narrow its foundation respecting the -fashion of any particular nation. But we have still more slender means -of determining, to which of the different customs of different ages or -countries we ought to give the preference, since they seem to be all -equally removed from nature. If a European, when he has cut off his -beard, and put false hair on his head, or bound up his own natural hair -in regular hard knots, as unlike nature as he can possibly make it; and -after having rendered them immovable by the help of the fat of hogs, has -covered the whole with flour, laid on by a machine with the utmost -regularity; if, when thus attired, he issues forth, and meets a Cherokee -Indian, who has bestowed as much time at his toilet, and laid on with -equal care and attention his yellow and red ochre on particular parts of -his forehead or cheeks, as he judges most becoming: whoever of these two -despises the other for this attention to the fashion of his country, -which ever first feels himself provoked to laugh, is the barbarian. - -All these fashions are very innocent; neither worth disquisition, nor -any endeavour to alter them; as the charge would, in all probability, be -equally distant from nature. The only circumstance against which -indignation may reasonably be removed, is, where the operation is -painful or destructive of health; such as some of the practices at -Otaheite, and the strait-lacing of the English ladies; of the last of -which practices, how destructive it must be to health and long life, the -Professor of Anatomy took an opportunity of proving a few days since in -this Academy. - -It is in dress, as in things of greater consequence. Fashions originate -from those only who have the high and powerful advantages of rank, -birth, and fortune. Many of the ornaments of art, those at least for -which no reason can be given, are transmitted to us, are adopted, and -acquire their consequence from the company in which we have been used to -see them. As Greece and Rome are the fountains from whence have flowed -all kinds of excellence, to that veneration which they have a right to -claim for the pleasure and knowledge which they have afforded us, we -voluntarily add our approbation of every ornament and every custom that -belonged to them, even to the fashion of their dress. For it may be -observed that, not satisfied with them in their own place, we make no -difficulty of dressing statues of modern heroes or senators in the -fashion of the Roman armour or peaceful robe; we go so far as hardly to -bear a statue in any other drapery. - -The figures of the great men of those nations have come down to us in -sculpture. In sculpture remain almost all the excellent specimens of -ancient art. We have so far associated personal dignity to the persons -thus represented, and the truth of art to their manner of -representation, that it is not in our power any longer to separate them. -This is not so in painting; because having no excellent ancient -portraits, that connection was never formed. Indeed we could no more -venture to paint a general officer in a Roman military habit, than we -could make a statue in the present uniform. But since we have no ancient -portraits,--to show how ready we are to adopt those kind of prejudices, -we make the best authority among the modern serve the same purpose. The -great variety of excellent portraits with which Vandyck has enriched -this nation, we are not content to admire for their real excellence, -but extend our approbation even to the dress which happened to be the -fashion of that age. We all very well remember how common it was a few -years ago for portraits to be drawn in this fantastic dress; and this -custom is not yet entirely laid aside. By this means it must be -acknowledged very ordinary pictures acquired something of the air and -effect of the works of Vandyck, and appeared therefore at first sight to -be better pictures than they really were: they appeared so, however, to -those only who had the means of making this association; and when made, -it was irresistible. But this association is nature, and refers to that -secondary truth that comes from conformity to general prejudice and -opinion; it is therefore not merely fantastical. Besides the prejudice -which we have in favour of ancient dresses, there may be likewise other -reasons for the effect which they produce; among which we may justly -rank the simplicity of them, consisting of little more than one single -piece of drapery, without those whimsical capricious forms by which all -other dresses are embarrassed. - -Thus, though it is from the prejudice we have in favour of the ancients, -who have taught us architecture, that we have adopted likewise their -ornaments; and though we are satisfied that neither nature nor reason -are the foundation of those beauties which we imagine we see in that -art, yet if anyone, persuaded of this truth, should therefore invent new -orders of equal beauty, which we will suppose to be possible they would -not please; nor ought he to complain, since the old has that great -advantage of having custom and prejudice on its side. In this case we -leave what has every prejudice in its favour, to take that which will -have no advantage over what we have left, but novelty: which soon -destroys itself, and at any rate is but a weak antagonist against -custom. - -Ancient ornaments, having the right of possession, ought not to be -removed, unless to make room for that which not only has higher -pretensions, but such pretensions as will balance the evil and confusion -which innovation always brings with it. - -To this we may add, that even the durability of the materials will often -contribute to give a superiority to one object over another. Ornaments -in buildings, with which taste is principally concerned, are composed of -materials which last longer than those of which dress is composed; the -former therefore make higher pretensions to our favour and prejudice. - -Some attention is surely due to what we can no more get rid of, than we -can go out of ourselves. We are creatures of prejudice; we neither can -nor ought to eradicate it; we must only regulate it by reason; which -kind of regulation is indeed little more than obliging the lesser, the -local and temporary prejudices, to give way to those which are more -durable and lasting. - -He, therefore, who in his practice of portrait-painting wishes to -dignify his subject, which we will suppose to be a lady, will not paint -her in the modern dress, the familiarity of which alone is sufficient to -destroy all dignity. He takes care that his work shall correspond to -those ideas and that imagination which he knows will regulate the -judgment of others; and therefore dresses his figure something with the -general air of the antique for the sake of dignity, and preserves -something of the modern for the sake of likeness. By this conduct his -works correspond with those prejudices which we have in favour of what -we continually see; and the relish of the antique simplicity corresponds -with what we may call the more learned and scientific prejudice. - -There was a statue made not long since of Voltaire, which the sculptor, -not having that respect for the prejudices of mankind which he ought to -have had, made entirely naked, and as meagre and emaciated as the -original is said to be. The consequence was what might have been -expected; it remained in the sculptor’s shop, though it was intended as -a public ornament and a public honour to Voltaire, for it was procured -at the expense of his contemporary wits and admirers. - -Whoever would reform a nation, supposing a bad taste to prevail in it, -will not accomplish his purpose by going directly against the stream of -their prejudices. Men’s minds must be prepared to receive what is new to -them. Reformation is a work of time. A national taste, however wrong it -may be, cannot be totally changed at once; we must yield a little to the -prepossession which has taken hold on the mind, and we may then bring -people to adopt what would offend them, if endeavoured to be introduced -by violence. When Battista Franco was employed, in conjunction with -Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret, to adorn the library of St. Mark’s, -his work, Vasari says, gave less satisfaction than any of the others: -the dry manner of the Roman school was very ill calculated to please -eyes that had been accustomed to the luxuriance, splendour, and richness -of Venetian colouring. Had the Romans been the judges of this work, -probably the determination would have been just contrary; for in the -more noble parts of the art, Battista Franco was perhaps not inferior to -any of his rivals. - -Gentlemen, It has been the main scope and principal end of this -discourse to demonstrate the reality of a standard in taste, as well as -in corporeal beauty; that a false or depraved taste is a thing as well -known, as easily discovered, as anything that is deformed, mis-shapen, -or wrong, in our form or outward make; and that this knowledge is -derived from the uniformity of sentiments among mankind, from whence -proceeds the knowledge of what are the general habits of nature; the -result of which is an idea of perfect beauty. - -If what has been advanced be true,--that besides this beauty or truth, -which is formed on the uniform, eternal, and immutable laws of nature, -and which of necessity can be but _one_; that besides this one immutable -verity there are likewise what we have called apparent or secondary -truths, proceeding from local and temporary prejudices, fancies, -fashions or accidental connection of ideas; if it appears that these -last have still their foundation, however slender, in the original -fabric of our minds; it follows that all these truths or beauties -deserve and require the attention of the artist, in proportion to their -stability or duration, or as their influence is more or less extensive. -And let me add, that as they ought not to pass their just bounds, so -neither do they, in a well-regulated taste, at all prevent or weaken the -influence of those general principles, which alone can give to art its -true and permanent dignity. - -To form this just taste is undoubtedly in your own power, but it is to -reason and philosophy that you must have recourse; from them you must -borrow the balance, by which is to be weighed and estimated the value of -every pretension that intrudes itself on your notice. - -The general objection which is made to the introduction of philosophy -into the regions of taste, is, that it checks and restrains the flights -of the imagination, and gives that timidity, which an over-carefulness -not to err or act contrary to reason is likely to produce. It is not so. -Fear is neither reason nor philosophy. The true spirit of philosophy, by -giving knowledge, gives a manly confidence, and substitutes rational -firmness in the place of vain presumption. A man of real taste is -always a man of judgment in other respects; and those inventions which -either disdain or shrink from reason, are generally, I fear, more like -the dreams of a distempered brain, than the exalted enthusiasm of a -sound and true genius. In the midst of the highest flights of fancy or -imagination, reason ought to preside from first to last, though I admit -her more powerful operation is upon reflection. - -Let me add, that some of the greatest names of antiquity, and those who -have most distinguished themselves in works of genius and imagination, -were equally eminent for their critical skill. Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, -and Horace; and among the moderns, Boileau, Corneille, Pope, and Dryden, -are at least instances of genius not being destroyed by attention or -subjection to rules and science. I should hope therefore that the -natural consequence of what has been said, would be to excite in you a -desire of knowing the principles and conduct of the great masters of our -art, and respect and veneration for them when known. - - - - -DISCOURSE VIII - - _Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the - Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1778._ - - The Principles of Art, whether Poetry or Painting, have their - Foundation in the Mind; such as Novelty, Variety, and Contrast; - these in their Excess become Defects.--Simplicity. Its Excess - Disagreeable.--Rules not to be always observed in their Literal - Sense: Sufficient to preserve the Spirit of the Law.--Observations - on the Prize Pictures. - - -GENTLEMEN, - -I have recommended in former discourses,[15] that artists should learn -their profession by endeavouring to form an idea of perfection from the -different excellences which lie dispersed in the various schools of -painting. Some difficulty will still occur, to know what is beauty, and -where it may be found: one would wish not to be obliged to take it -entirely on the credit of fame; though to this, I acknowledge, the -younger students must unavoidably submit. Any suspicion in them of the -chance of their being deceived, will have more tendency to obstruct -their advancement, than even an enthusiastic confidence in the -perfection of their models. But to the more advanced in the art, who -wish to stand on more stable and firmer ground, and to establish -principles on a stronger foundation than authority, however venerable or -powerful, it may be safely told, that there is still a higher tribunal, -to which those great masters themselves must submit, and to which indeed -every excellence in art must be ultimately referred. He who is ambitious -to enlarge the boundaries of his art must extend his views, beyond the -precepts which are found in books or may be drawn from the practice of -his predecessors, to a knowledge of those precepts in the mind, those -operations of intellectual nature, to which everything that aspires to -please must be proportioned and accommodated. - -Poetry having a more extensive power than our art, exerts its influence -over almost all the passions; among those may be reckoned one of our -most prevalent dispositions, anxiety for the future. Poetry operates by -raising our curiosity, engaging the mind by degrees to take an interest -in the event, keeping that event suspended, and surprising at last with -an unexpected catastrophe. - -The painter’s art is more confined, and has nothing that corresponds -with, or perhaps is equivalent to, this power and advantage of leading -the mind on, till attention is totally engaged. What is done by -painting, must be done at one blow; curiosity has received at once all -the satisfaction it can ever have. There are, however, other -intellectual qualities and dispositions which the painter can satisfy -and affect as powerfully as the poet: among those we may reckon our love -of novelty, variety, and contrast; these qualities, on examination, will -be found to refer to a certain activity and restlessness, which has a -pleasure and delight in being exercised and put in motion: art therefore -only administers to those wants and desires of the mind. - -It requires no long disquisition to show, that the dispositions which I -have stated actually subsist in the human mind. Variety reanimates the -attention, which is apt to languish under a continual sameness. Novelty -makes a more forcible impression on the mind, than can be made by the -representation of what we have often seen before; and contrasts rouse -the power of comparison by opposition. All this is obvious; but, on the -other hand, it must be remembered, that the mind, though an active -principle, has likewise a disposition to indolence; and though it loves -exercise, loves it only to a certain degree, beyond which it is very -unwilling to be led, or driven; the pursuit therefore of novelty and -variety may be carried to excess. When variety entirely destroys the -pleasure proceeding from uniformity and repetition, and when novelty -counteracts and shuts out the pleasure arising from old habits and -customs, they oppose too much the indolence of our disposition: the mind -therefore can bear with pleasure but a small portion of novelty at a -time. The main part of the work must be in the mode to which we have -been used. An affection to old habits and customs I take to be the -predominant disposition of the mind, and novelty comes as an exception: -where all is novelty, the attention, the exercise of the mind is too -violent. Contrast, in the same manner, when it exceeds certain limits, -is as disagreeable as a violent and perpetual opposition; it gives to -the senses, in their progress, a more sudden change than they can bear -with pleasure. - -It is then apparent, that those qualities, however they contribute to -the perfection of art, when kept within certain bounds, if they are -carried to excess, become defects, and require correction: a work -consequently will not proceed better and better as it is more varied; -variety can never be the groundwork and principle of the performance--it -must be only employed to recreate and relieve. - -To apply these general observations, which belong equally to all arts, -to ours in particular. In a composition, when the objects are scattered -and divided into many equal parts, the eye is perplexed and fatigued, -from not knowing where to rest, where to find the principal action, or -which is the principal figure; for where all are making equal -pretensions to notice, all are in equal danger of neglect. - -The expression which is used very often on these occasions is, the piece -wants repose; a word which perfectly expresses a relief of the mind from -that state of hurry and anxiety which it suffers, when looking at a work -of this character. - -On the other hand, absolute unity, that is, a large work, consisting of -one group or mass of light only, would be as defective as an heroic poem -without episode, or any collateral incidents to recreate the mind with -that variety which it always requires. - -An instance occurs to me of two painters (Rembrandt and Poussin), of -characters totally opposite to each other in every respect, but in -nothing more than in their mode of composition, and management of light -and shadow. Rembrandt’s manner is absolute unity; he often has but one -group, and exhibits little more than one spot of light in the midst of a -large quantity of shadow: if he has a second mass, that second bears no -proportion to the principal. Poussin, on the contrary, has scarce any -principal mass of light at all, and his figures are often too much -dispersed, without sufficient attention to place them in groups. - -The conduct of these two painters is entirely the reverse of what might -be expected from their general style and character; the works of Poussin -being as much distinguished for simplicity, as those of Rembrandt for -combination. Even this conduct of Poussin might proceed from too great -an affection to simplicity of _another kind_; too great a desire to -avoid that ostentation of art, with regard to light and shadow, on which -Rembrandt so much wished to draw the attention: however, each of them -ran into contrary extremes, and it is difficult to determine which is -the most reprehensible, both being equally distant from the demands of -nature, and the purposes of art. - -The same just moderation must be observed in regard to ornaments; -nothing will contribute more to destroy repose than profusion, of -whatever kind, whether it consists in the multiplicity of objects, or -the variety and brightness of colours. On the other hand, a work without -ornament, instead of simplicity, to which it makes pretensions, has -rather the appearance of poverty. The degree to which ornaments are -admissible must be regulated by the professed style of the work; but we -may be sure of this truth,--that the most ornamental style requires -repose to set off even its ornaments to advantage. I cannot avoid -mentioning here an instance of repose in that faithful and accurate -painter of nature, Shakspeare; the short dialogue between Duncan and -Banquo, whilst they are approaching the gates of Macbeth’s castle. Their -conversation very naturally turns upon the beauty of its situation, and -the pleasantness of the air: and Banquo, observing the martlets’ nests -in every recess of the cornice, remarks, that where those birds most -breed and haunt, the air is delicate. The subject of this quiet and easy -conversation gives that repose so necessary to the mind, after the -tumultuous bustle of the preceding scenes, and perfectly contrasts the -scene of horror that immediately succeeds. It seems as if Shakspeare -asked himself, What is a prince likely to say to his attendants on such -an occasion? The modern writers seem, on the contrary, to be always -searching for new thoughts, such as never could occur to men in the -situation represented. This is also frequently the practice of Homer; -who, from the midst of battles and horrors, relieves and refreshes the -mind of the reader, by introducing some quiet rural image, or picture of -familiar domestic life. The writers of every age and country, where -taste has begun to decline, paint and adorn every object they touch; are -always on the stretch; never deviate or sink a moment from the pompous -and the brilliant. Lucan, Statius, and Claudian (as a learned critic has -observed), are examples of this bad taste and want of judgment; they -never soften their tones, or condescend to be natural: all is -exaggeration and perpetual splendour, without affording repose of any -kind. - -As we are speaking of excesses, it will not be remote from our purpose -to say a few words upon simplicity; which, in one of the senses in which -it is used, is considered as the general corrector of excess. We shall -at present forbear to consider it as implying that exact conduct which -proceeds from an intimate knowledge of simple unadulterated nature, as -it is then only another word for perfection, which neither stops short -of, nor oversteps, reality and truth. - -In our inquiry after simplicity, as in many other inquiries of this -nature, we can best explain what is right, by showing what is wrong; -and, indeed, in this case it seems to be absolutely necessary: -simplicity, being only a negative virtue, cannot be described or -defined. We must therefore explain its nature, and show the advantage -and beauty which is derived from it, by showing the deformity which -proceeds from its neglect. - -Though instances of this neglect might be expected to be found in -practice, we should not expect to find in the works of critics precepts -that bid defiance to simplicity and everything that relates to it. De -Piles recommends to us portrait-painters to add grace and dignity to the -characters of those whose pictures we draw: so far he is undoubtedly -right; but, unluckily, he descends to particulars, and gives his own -idea of grace and dignity. “_If_,” says he, “_you draw persons of high -character and dignity, they ought to be drawn in such an attitude that -the portraits must seem to speak to us of themselves, and, as it were, -to say to us, ‘Stop, take notice of me, I am that invincible King, -surrounded by Majesty’_: _‘I am that valiant commander, who struck -terror everywhere’_; _‘I am that great minister, who knew all the -springs of politics’_: _‘I am that magistrate of consummate wisdom and -probity.’_” He goes on in this manner, with all the characters he can -think on. We may contrast the tumour of this presumptuous loftiness with -the natural unaffected air of the portraits of Titian, where dignity, -seeming to be natural and inherent, draws spontaneous reverence, and -instead of being thus vainly assumed, has the appearance of an -unalienable adjunct; whereas such pompous and laboured insolence of -grandeur is so far from creating respect, that it betrays vulgarity and -meanness, and new-acquired consequence. - -The painters, many of them at least, have not been backward in adopting -the notions contained in these precepts. The portraits of Rigaud are -perfect examples of an implicit observance of these rules of De Piles; -so that though he was a painter of great merit in many respects, yet -that merit is entirely overpowered by a total absence of simplicity in -every sense. - -Not to multiply instances, which might be produced for this purpose, -from the works of history-painters, I shall mention only one,--a picture -which I have seen, of the Supreme Being by Coypell. - -This subject the Roman Catholic painters have taken the liberty to -represent, however indecent the attempt, and however obvious the -impossibility of any approach to an adequate representation: but here -the air and character, which the painter has given, and he has doubtless -given the highest he could conceive, are so degraded by an attempt at -such dignity as De Piles has recommended, that we are enraged at the -folly and presumption of the artist, and consider it as little less than -profanation. - -As we have passed to a neighbouring nation for instances of want of this -quality, we must acknowledge, at the same time, that they have produced -great examples of simplicity, in Poussin and Le Sueur. But as we are -speaking of the most refined and subtle notion of perfection, may we not -inquire, whether a curious eye cannot discern some faults, even in those -great men? I can fancy, that even Poussin, by abhorring that affectation -and that want of simplicity, which he observed in his countrymen, has, -in certain particulars, fallen into the contrary extreme, so far as to -approach to a kind of affectation;--to what, in writing, would be called -pedantry. - -When simplicity, instead of being a corrector, seems to set up for -herself; that is, when an artist seems to value himself solely upon this -quality; such an ostentatious display of simplicity becomes then as -disagreeable and nauseous as any other kind of affectation. He is, -however, in this case, likely enough to sit down contented with his own -work; for though he finds the world look at it with indifference or -dislike, as being destitute of every quality that can recreate or give -pleasure to the mind, yet he consoles himself, that it has simplicity, a -beauty of too pure and chaste a nature to be relished by vulgar minds. - -It is in art as in morals; no character would inspire us with an -enthusiastic admiration of his virtue, if that virtue consisted only in -an absence of vice; something more is required; a man must do more than -merely his duty, to be a hero. - -Those works of the ancients, which are in the highest esteem, have -something beside mere simplicity to recommend them. The Apollo, the -Venus, the Laocoon, the Gladiator, have a certain composition of action, -have contrasts sufficient to give grace and energy in a high degree; but -it must be confessed of the many thousand antique statues which we have, -that their general characteristic is bordering at least on inanimate -insipidity. - -Simplicity, when so very inartificial as to seem to evade the -difficulties of art, is a very suspicious virtue. - -I do not, however, wish to degrade simplicity from the high estimation -in which it has been ever justly held. It is our barrier against that -great enemy to truth and nature, affectation, which is ever clinging to -the pencil, and ready to drop in and poison everything it touches. - -Our love and affection to simplicity proceeds in a great measure from -our aversion to every kind of affectation. There is likewise another -reason why so much stress is laid upon this virtue; the propensity which -artists have to fall into the contrary extreme; we therefore set a guard -on that side which is most assailable. When a young artist is first -told, that his composition and his attitudes must be contrasted, that he -must turn the head contrary to the position of the body, in order to -produce grace and animation; that his outline must be undulating, and -swelling, to give grandeur; and that the eye must be gratified with a -variety of colours; when he is told this, with certain animating words, -of spirit, dignity, energy, grace, greatness of style, and brilliancy of -tints, he becomes suddenly vain of his newly acquired knowledge, and -never thinks he can carry those rules too far. It is then that the aid -of simplicity ought to be called in, to correct the exuberance of -youthful ardour. - -The same may be said in regard to colouring, which in its pre-eminence -is particularly applied to flesh. An artist, in his first essay of -imitating nature, would make the whole mass of one colour, as the oldest -painters did; till he is taught to observe not only the variety of -tints, which are in the object itself, but the differences produced by -the gradual decline of light to shadow: he then immediately puts his -instruction in practice, and introduces a variety of distinct colours. -He must then be again corrected and told, that though there is this -variety, yet the effect of the whole upon the eye must have the union -and simplicity of the colouring of nature. - -And here we may observe that the progress of an individual student bears -a great resemblance to the progress and advancement of the art itself. -Want of simplicity would probably be not one of the defects of an artist -who had studied nature only, as it was not of the old masters, who lived -in the time preceding the great art of painting; on the contrary, their -works are too simple and too inartificial. - -The art in its infancy, like the first work of a student, was dry, hard, -and simple. But this kind of barbarous simplicity would be better named -penury, as it proceeds from mere want; from want of knowledge, want of -resources, want of abilities to be otherwise: their simplicity was the -offspring, not of choice, but necessity. - -In the second stage they were sensible of this poverty; and those who -were the most sensible of the want were the best judges of the measure -of the supply. There were painters who emerged from poverty without -falling into luxury. Their success induced others, who probably never -would of themselves have had strength of mind to discover the original -defect, to endeavour at the remedy by an abuse; and they ran into the -contrary extreme. But however they may have strayed, we cannot recommend -to them to return to that simplicity which they have justly quitted; but -to deal out their abundance with a more sparing hand, with that dignity -which makes no parade, either of its riches, or of its art. It is not -easy to give a rule which may serve to fix this just and correct medium; -because when we may have fixed, or nearly fixed the middle point, taken -as a general principle, circumstances may oblige us to depart from it, -either on the side of simplicity or on that of variety and decoration. - -I thought it necessary in a former discourse, speaking of the difference -of the sublime and ornamental style of painting,--in order to excite -your attention to the more manly, noble, and dignified manner, to leave -perhaps an impression too contemptuous of those ornamental parts of our -art, for which many have valued themselves, and many works are much -valued and esteemed. - -I said then, what I thought it was right at that time to say; I supposed -the disposition of young men more inclinable to splendid negligence, -than perseverance in laborious application to acquire correctness; and -therefore did as we do in making what is crooked straight, by bending -it the contrary way, in order that it may remain straight at last. - -For this purpose, then, and to correct excess or neglect of any kind, we -may here add, that it is not enough that a work be learned; it must be -pleasing: the painter must add grace to strength, if he desires to -secure the first impression in his favour. Our taste has a kind of -sensuality about it, as well as a love of the sublime; both these -qualities of the mind are to have their proper consequence, as far as -they do not counteract each other; for that is the grand error which -much care ought to be taken to avoid. - -There are some rules, whose absolute authority, like that of our nurses, -continues no longer than while we are in a state of childhood. One of -the first rules, for instance, that I believe every master would give to -a young pupil, respecting his conduct and management of light and -shadow, would be what Lionardo da Vinci has actually given; that you -must oppose a light ground to the shadowed side of your figure, and a -dark ground to the light side. If Lionardo had lived to see the superior -splendour and effect which has been since produced by the exactly -contrary conduct,--by joining light to light, and shadow to -shadow,--though without doubt he would have admired it, yet, as it ought -not, so probably it would not, be the first rule with which he would -have begun his instructions. - -Again: in the artificial management of the figures, it is directed that -they shall contrast each other according to the rules generally given; -that if one figure opposes his front to the spectator, the next figure -is to have his back turned, and that the limbs of each individual figure -be contrasted; that is, if the right leg be put forward, the right arm -is to be drawn back. - -It is very proper that those rules should be given in the Academy; it is -proper the young students should be informed that some research is to -be made, and that they should be habituated to consider every excellence -as reducible to principles. Besides, it is the natural progress of -instruction to teach first what is obvious and perceptible to the -senses, and from hence proceed gradually to notions large, liberal, and -complete, such as comprise the more refined and higher excellences in -art. But when students are more advanced, they will find that the -greatest beauties of character and expression are produced without -contrast; nay, more, that this contrast would ruin and destroy that -natural energy of men engaged in real action, unsolicitous of grace. St. -Paul preaching at Athens in one of the cartoons, far from any affected -academical contrast of limbs, stands equally on both legs, and both -hands are in the same attitude: add contrast, and the whole energy and -unaffected grace of the figure is destroyed. Elymas the sorcerer -stretches both hands forward in the same direction, which gives -perfectly the expression intended. Indeed you never will find in the -works of Raffaelle any of those schoolboy affected contrasts. Whatever -contrast there is, appears without any seeming agency of art, by the -natural chance of things. - -What has been said of the evil of excesses of all kinds, whether of -simplicity, variety, of contrast, naturally suggests to the painter the -necessity of a general inquiry into the true meaning and cause of rules, -and how they operate on those faculties to which they are addressed: by -knowing their general purpose and meaning, he will often find that he -need not confine himself to the literal sense; it will be sufficient if -he preserve the spirit of the law. - -Critical remarks are not always understood without examples: it may not -be improper therefore to give instances where the rule itself, though -generally received, is false, or where a narrow conception of it may -lead the artist into great errors. - -It is given as a rule by Fresnoy, that _the principal figure of a -subject must appear in the midst of the picture, under the principal -light, to distinguish it from the rest_. A painter who should think -himself obliged strictly to follow this rule would encumber himself with -needless difficulties; he would be confined to great uniformity of -composition, and be deprived of many beauties which are incompatible -with its observance. The meaning of this rule extends, or ought to -extend, no further than this: that the principal figure should be -immediately distinguished at the first glance of the eye; but there is -no necessity that the principal light should fall on the principal -figure, or that the principal figure should be in the middle of the -picture. It is sufficient that it be distinguished by its place, or by -the attention of other figures pointing it out to the spectator. So far -is this rule from being indispensable, that it is very seldom practised, -other considerations of greater consequence often standing in the way. -Examples in opposition to this rule are found in the cartoons, in -Christ’s Charge to Peter, the Preaching of St. Paul, and Elymas the -Sorcerer, who is undoubtedly the principal object in that picture. In -none of those compositions is the principal figure in the midst of the -picture. In the very admirable composition of the Tent of Darius, by Le -Brun, Alexander is not in the middle of the picture, nor does the -principal light fall on him; but the attention of all the other figures -immediately distinguishes him, and distinguishes him more properly; the -greatest light falls on the daughter of Darius, who is in the middle of -the picture, where it is more necessary the principal light should be -placed. - -It is very extraordinary that Felibien, who has given a very minute -description of this picture, but indeed such a description as may be -rather called panegyric than criticism, thinking it necessary (according -to the precept of Fresnoy) that Alexander should possess the principal -light, has accordingly given it to him; he might with equal truth have -said that he was placed in the middle of the picture, as he seemed -resolved to give this piece every kind of excellence which he conceived -to be necessary to perfection. His generosity is here unluckily -misapplied, as it would have destroyed in a great measure the beauty of -the composition. - -Another instance occurs to me, where equal liberty may be taken in -regard to the management of light. Though the general practice is to -make a large mass about the middle of the picture surrounded by shadow, -the reverse may be practised, and the spirit of the rule may still be -preserved. Examples of this principle reversed may be found very -frequently in the works of the Venetian school. In the great composition -of Paul Veronese, the Marriage at Cana, the figures are for the most -part in half shadow; the great light is in the sky; and indeed the -general effect of this picture, which is so striking, is no more than -what we often see in landscapes, in small pictures of fairs and country -feasts; but those principles of light and shadow, being transferred to a -large scale, to a space containing near a hundred figures as large as -life, and conducted to all appearance with as much facility, and with an -attention as steadily fixed upon _the whole together_, as if it were a -small picture immediately under the eye, the work justly excites our -admiration; the difficulty being increased as the extent is enlarged. - -The various modes of composition are infinite; sometimes it shall -consist of one large group in the middle of the picture, and the smaller -groups on each side; or a plain space in the middle, and the groups of -figures ranked round this vacuity. - -Whether this principal broad light be in the middle space of ground, as -in the School of Athens, or in the sky, as in the Marriage at Cana, in -the Andromeda, and in most of the pictures of Paul Veronese; or whether -the light be on the groups; whatever mode of composition is adopted, -every variety and licence is allowable: this only is indisputably -necessary, that to prevent the eye from being distracted and confused by -a multiplicity of objects of equal magnitude, those objects, whether -they consist of lights, shadows, or figures, must be disposed in large -masses and groups properly varied and contrasted; that to a certain -quantity of action a proportioned space of plain ground is required; -that light is to be supported by sufficient shadow; and, we may add, -that a certain quantity of cold colours is necessary to give value and -lustre to the warm colours: what those proportions are cannot be so well -learnt by precept as by observation on pictures, and in this knowledge -bad pictures will instruct as well as good. Our inquiry why pictures -have a bad effect may be as advantageous as the inquiry why they have a -good effect; each will corroborate the principles that are suggested by -the other. - -Though it is not my _business_ to enter into the detail of our art, yet -I must take this opportunity of mentioning one of the means of producing -that great effect which we observe in the works of the Venetian -painters, as I think it is not generally known or observed. It ought, in -my opinion, to be indispensably observed, that the masses of light in a -picture be always of a warm mellow colour, yellow, red, or a -yellowish-white; and that the blue, the grey, or the green colours be -kept almost entirely out of these masses, and be used only to support -and set off these warm colours; and for this purpose, a small -proportion of cold colours will be sufficient. - -Let this conduct be reversed; let the light be cold, and the surrounding -colours warm, as we often see in the works of the Roman and Florentine -painters, and it will be out of the power of art, even in the hands of -Rubens or Titian, to make a picture splendid and harmonious. - -Le Brun and Carlo Maratti were two painters of great merit, and -particularly what may be called academical merit, but were both -deficient in this management of colours: the want of observing this rule -is one of the causes of that heaviness of effect which is so observable -in their works. The principal light in the picture of Le Brun, which I -just now mentioned, falls on Statira, who is dressed very injudiciously -in a pale blue drapery: it is true, he has heightened this blue with -gold, but that is not enough; the whole picture has a heavy air, and by -no means answers the expectation raised by the print. Poussin often made -a spot of blue drapery, when the general hue of the picture was -inclinable to brown or yellow; which shows sufficiently, that harmony of -colouring was not a part of the art that had much engaged the attention -of that great painter. - -The conduct of Titian in the picture of Bacchus and Ariadne has been -much celebrated, and justly, for the harmony of colouring. To Ariadne is -given (say the critics) a red scarf, to relieve the figure from the sea, -which is behind her. It is not for that reason alone, but for another of -much greater consequence; for the sake of the general harmony and effect -of the picture. The figure of Ariadne is separated from the great group, -and is dressed in blue, which, added to the colour of the sea, makes -that quantity of cold colour which Titian thought necessary for the -support and brilliancy of the great group; which group is composed, -with very little exception, entirely of mellow colours. But as the -picture in this case would be divided into two distinct parts, one half -cold, and the other warm, it was necessary to carry some of the mellow -colours of the great group into the cold part of the picture, and a part -of the cold into the great group; accordingly Titian gave Ariadne a red -scarf, and to one of the Bacchante a little blue drapery. - -The light of the picture, as I observed, ought to be of a warm colour; -for though white may be used for the principal light, as was the -practice of many of the Dutch and Flemish painters, yet it is better to -suppose _that white_ illumined by the yellow rays of the setting sun, as -was the manner of Titian. The superiority of which manner is never more -striking, than when in a collection of pictures we chance to see a -portrait of Titian’s hanging by the side of a Flemish picture (even -though that should be of the hand of Vandyck), which, however admirable -in other respects, becomes cold and grey in the comparison. - -The illuminated parts of objects are in nature of a warmer tint than -those that are in the shade: what I have recommended therefore is no -more, than that the same conduct be observed in the whole, which is -acknowledged to be necessary in every individual part. It is presenting -to the eye the same effect as that which it has been _accustomed_ to -feel, which in this case, as in every other, will always produce beauty; -no principle therefore in our art can be more certain, or is derived -from a higher source. - -What I just now mentioned of the supposed reason why Ariadne has part of -her drapery red gives me occasion here to observe, that this favourite -quality of giving objects relief, and which De Piles and all the critics -have considered as a requisite of the utmost importance, was not one of -those objects which much engaged the attention of Titian; painters of -an inferior rank have far exceeded him in producing this effect. This -was a great object of attention, when art was in its infant state; as it -is at present with the vulgar and ignorant, who feel the highest -satisfaction in seeing a figure, which, as they say, looks as if they -could walk round it. But however low I may rate this pleasure of -deception, I should not oppose it, did it not oppose itself to a quality -of a much higher kind, by counteracting entirely that fulness of manner -which is so difficult to express in words, but which is found in -perfection in the best works of Correggio, and, we may add, of -Rembrandt. This effect is produced by melting and losing the shadows in -a ground still darker than those shadows; whereas that relief is -produced by opposing and separating the ground from the figure either by -light, or shadow, or colour. This conduct of inlaying, as it may be -called, figures on their ground, in order to produce relief, was the -practice of the old painters, such as Andrea Mantegna, Pietro Perugino, -and Albert Dürer; and to these we may add, the first manner of Lionardo -da Vinci, Giorgione, and even Correggio; but these three were among the -first who began to correct themselves in dryness of style, by no longer -considering relief as a principal object. As those two qualities, relief -and fulness of effect, can hardly exist together, it is not very -difficult to determine to which we ought to give the preference. An -artist is obliged for ever to hold a balance in his hand, by which he -must determine the value of different qualities; that, when _some_ fault -must be committed, he may choose the least. Those painters who have best -understood the art of producing a good effect, have adopted one -principle that seems perfectly conformable to reason; that a part may be -sacrificed for the good of the whole. Thus, whether the masses consist -of light or shadow, it is necessary that they should be compact and of -a pleasing shape: to this end, some parts may be made darker and some -lighter, and reflections stronger than nature would warrant. Paul -Veronese took great liberties of this kind. It is said, that being once -asked, why certain figures were painted in shade, as no cause was seen -in the picture itself, he turned off the inquiry by answering “_una -nuevola che passa_,” a cloud is passing which has overshadowed them. - -But I cannot give a better instance of this practice than a picture -which I have of Rubens; it is a representation of a moonlight. Rubens -has not only diffused more light over the picture than is in nature, but -has bestowed on it those warm glowing colours by which his works are so -much distinguished. It is so unlike what any other painters have given -us of moonlight, that it might be easily mistaken, if he had not -likewise added stars, for a fainter setting sun.--Rubens thought the eye -ought to be satisfied in this case, above all other considerations: he -might indeed have made it more natural, but it would have been at the -expense of what he thought of much greater consequence,--the harmony -proceeding from the contrast and variety of colours. - -This same picture will furnish us with another instance, where we must -depart from nature for a greater advantage. The moon in this picture -does not preserve so great a superiority in regard to its lightness over -the object which it illumines, as it does in nature; this is likewise an -intended deviation, and for the same reason. If Rubens had preserved the -same scale of gradation of light between the moon and the objects, which -is found in nature, the picture must have consisted of one small spot of -light only, and at a little distance from the picture nothing but this -spot would have been seen. It may be said, indeed, that this being the -case, it is a subject that ought not to be painted: but then, for the -same reason, neither armour, nor anything shining, ought ever to be -painted; for though pure white is used in order to represent the -greatest light of shining objects, it will not in the picture preserve -the same superiority over flesh, as it has in nature, without keeping -that flesh-colour of a very low tint. Rembrandt, who thought it of more -consequence to paint light than the objects that are seen by it, has -done this in a picture of Achilles which I have. The head is kept down -to a very low tint, in order to preserve this due gradation and -distinction between the armour and the face; the consequence of which -is, that upon the whole the picture is too black. Surely too much is -sacrificed here to this narrow conception of nature: allowing the -contrary conduct a fault, yet it must be acknowledged a less fault, than -making a picture so dark that it cannot be seen without a peculiar -light, and then with difficulty. The merit or demerit of the different -conduct of Rubens and Rembrandt in those instances which I have given, -is not to be determined by the narrow principles of nature, separated -from its effect on the human mind. Reason and common sense tell us, that -before, and above all other considerations, it is necessary that the -work should be seen, not only without difficulty or inconvenience, but -with pleasure and satisfaction; and every obstacle which stands in the -way of this pleasure and convenience must be removed. - -The tendency of this discourse, with the instances which have been -given, is not so much to place the artist above rules, as to teach him -their reason; to prevent him from entertaining a narrow confined -conception of art; to clear his mind from a perplexed variety of rules -and their exceptions, by directing his attention to an intimate -acquaintance with the passions and affections of the mind, from which -all rules arise, and to which they are all referable. Art effects its -purpose by their means; an accurate knowledge therefore of those -passions and dispositions of the mind is necessary to him who desires to -effect them upon sure and solid principles. - -A complete essay or inquiry into the connection between the rules of -art, and the eternal and immutable dispositions of our passions, would -be indeed going at once to the foundation of criticism;[16] but I am too -well convinced what extensive knowledge, what subtle and penetrating -judgment would be required, to engage in such an undertaking: it is -enough for me, if, in the language of painters, I have produced a slight -sketch of a part of this vast composition, but that sufficiently -distinct to show the usefulness of such a theory, and its -practicability. - -Before I conclude, I cannot avoid making one observation on the pictures -now before us. I have observed, that every candidate has copied the -celebrated invention of Timanthes in hiding the face of Agamemnon in his -mantle; indeed such lavish encomiums have been bestowed on this thought, -and that too by men of the highest character in critical -knowledge,--Cicero, Quintilian, Valerius Maximus, and Pliny,--and have -been since re-echoed by almost every modern that has written on the -arts, that your adopting it can neither be wondered at, nor blamed. It -appears now to be so much connected with the subject, that the spectator -would perhaps be disappointed in not finding united in the picture what -he always united in his mind, and considered as indispensably belonging -to the subject. But it may be observed, that those who praise this -circumstance were not painters. They use it as an illustration only of -their own art; it served their purpose, and it was certainly not their -business to enter into the objections that lie against it in another -art. I fear _we_ have but very scanty means of exciting those powers -over the imagination which make so very considerable and refined a part -of poetry. It is a doubt with me, whether we should even make the -attempt. The chief, if not the only occasion which the painter has for -this artifice, is, when the subject is improper to be more fully -represented, either for the sake of decency, or to avoid what would be -disagreeable to be seen; and this is not to raise or increase the -passions, which is the reason that is given for this practice, but on -the contrary to diminish their effect. - -It is true, sketches, or such drawings as painters generally make for -their works, give this pleasure of imagination to a high degree. From a -slight undetermined drawing, where the ideas of the composition and -character are, as I may say, only just touched upon, the imagination -supplies more than the painter himself, probably, could produce; and we -accordingly often find that the finished work disappoints the -expectation that was raised from the sketch; and this power of the -imagination is one of the causes of the great pleasure we have in -viewing a collection of drawings by great painters. These general ideas, -which are expressed in sketches, correspond very well to the art often -used in poetry. A great part of the beauty of the celebrated description -of Eve in Milton’s _Paradise Lost_, consists in using only general -indistinct expressions, every reader making out the detail according to -his own particular imagination,--his own idea of beauty, grace, -expression, dignity, or loveliness: but a painter, when he represents -Eve on a canvas, is obliged to give a determined form, and his own idea -of beauty distinctly expressed. - -We cannot on this occasion, nor indeed on any other, recommend an -undeterminate manner, or vague ideas of any kind, in a complete and -finished picture. This notion, therefore, of leaving anything to the -imagination, opposes a very fixed and indispensable rule in our -art,--that everything shall be carefully and distinctly expressed, as if -the painter knew, with correctness and precision, the exact form and -character of whatever is introduced into the picture. This is what with -us is called science and learning: which must not be sacrificed and -given up for an uncertain and doubtful beauty, which, not naturally -belonging to our art, will probably be sought for without success. - -Mr. Falconet has observed, in a note on this passage in his translation -of Pliny, that the circumstance of covering the face of Agamemnon was -probably not in consequence of any fine imagination of the -painter,--which he considers as a discovery of the critics,--but merely -copied from the description of the sacrifice, as it is found in -Euripides. - -The words from which the picture is supposed to be taken are these: -_Agamemnon saw Iphigenia advance towards the fatal altar; he groaned, he -turned aside his head, he shed tears, and covered his face with his -robe_. - -Falconet does not at all acquiesce in the praise that is bestowed on -Timanthes; not only because it is not his invention, but because he -thinks meanly of this trick of concealing, except in instances of blood, -where the objects would be too horrible to be seen; but, says he, “in an -afflicted father, in a king, in Agamemnon, you, who are a painter, -conceal from me the most interesting circumstance, and then put me off -with sophistry and a veil. You are” (he adds) “a feeble painter, without -resource: you do not know even those of your art: I care not what veil -it is, whether closed hands, arms raised, or any other action that -conceals from me the countenance of the hero. You think of veiling -Agamemnon; you have unveiled your own ignorance. A painter who -represents Agamemnon veiled is as ridiculous as a poet would be, who in -a pathetic situation, in order to satisfy my expectations, and rid -himself of the business, should say, that the sentiments of his hero are -so far above whatever can be said on the occasion, that he shall say -nothing.” - -To what Falconet has said, we may add, that supposing this method of -leaving the expression of grief to the imagination, to be, as it was -thought to be, the invention of the painter, and that it deserves all -the praise that has been given it, still it is a trick that will serve -but once; whoever does it a second time will not only want novelty, but -be justly suspected of using artifice to evade difficulties. If -difficulties overcome make a great part of the merit of art, -difficulties evaded can deserve but little commendation. - - - - -DISCOURSE IX - -_Delivered at the Opening of the Royal Academy, in Somerset Place, -October 16, 1780._ - - On the Removal of the Royal Academy to Somerset Place.--The - Advantages to Society from cultivating Intellectual Pleasure. - -GENTLEMEN, - -The honour which the arts acquire by being permitted to take possession -of this noble habitation, is one of the most considerable of the many -instances we have received of his Majesty’s protection; and the -strongest proof of his desire to make the Academy respectable. - -Nothing has been left undone, that might contribute to excite our -pursuit, or to reward our attainments. We have already the happiness of -seeing the arts in a state to which they never before arrived in this -nation. This building, in which we are now assembled, will remain to -many future ages an illustrious specimen of the architect’s[17] -abilities. It is our duty to endeavour that those who gaze with wonder -at the structure, may not be disappointed when they visit the -apartments. It will be no small addition to the glory, which this nation -has already acquired from having given birth to eminent men in every -part of science, if it should be enabled to produce, in consequence of -this institution, a school of English artists. The estimation in which -we stand in respect to our neighbours, will be in proportion to the -degree in which we excel or are inferior to them in the acquisition of -intellectual excellence, of which trade and its consequential riches -must be acknowledged to give the means; but a people whose whole -attention is absorbed in those means, and who forget the end, can aspire -but little above the rank of a barbarous nation. Every establishment -that tends to the cultivation of the pleasures of the mind, as distinct -from those of sense, may be considered as an inferior school of -morality, where the mind is polished and prepared for higher -attainments. - -Let us for a moment take a short survey of the progress of the mind -towards what is, or ought to be, its true object of attention. Man, in -his lowest state, has no pleasures but those of sense, and no wants but -those of appetite; afterwards, when society is divided into different -ranks, and some are appointed to labour for the support of others, those -whom their superiority sets free from labour begin to look for -intellectual entertainments. Thus, whilst the shepherds were attending -their flocks, their masters made the first astronomical observations; -so music is said to have had its origin from a man at leisure listening -to the strokes of a hammer. - -As the senses, in the lowest state of nature, are necessary to direct us -to our support, when that support is once secure there is danger in -following them further; to him who has no rule of action but the -gratification of the senses, plenty is always dangerous: it is therefore -necessary to the happiness of individuals, and still more necessary to -the security of society, that the mind should be elevated to the idea of -general beauty, and the contemplation of general truth; by this pursuit -the mind is always carried forward in search of something more excellent -than it finds, and obtains its proper superiority over the common senses -of life, by learning to feel itself capable of higher aims and nobler -enjoyments. In this gradual exaltation of human nature, every art -contributes its contingent towards the general supply of mental -pleasure. Whatever abstracts the thoughts from sensual gratifications, -whatever teaches us to look for happiness within ourselves, must advance -in some measure the dignity of our nature. - -Perhaps there is no higher proof of the excellence of man than -this,--that to a mind properly cultivated whatever is bounded is little. -The mind is continually labouring to advance, step by step, through -successive gradations of excellence, towards perfection, which is dimly -seen, at a great though not hopeless distance, and which we must always -follow because we never can attain; but the pursuit rewards itself: one -truth teaches another, and our store is always increasing, though nature -can never be exhausted. Our art, like all arts which address the -imagination, is applied to somewhat a lower faculty of the mind, which -approaches nearer to sensuality; but through sense and fancy it must -make its way to reason; for such is the progress of thought, that we -perceive by sense, we combine by fancy, and distinguish by reason: and -without carrying our art out of its natural and true character, the more -we purify it from everything that is gross in sense, in that proportion -we advance its use and dignity; and in proportion as we lower it to mere -sensuality, we pervert its nature, and degrade it from the rank of a -liberal art; and this is what every artist ought well to remember. Let -him remember also, that he deserves just so much encouragement in the -State as he makes himself a member of it virtuously useful, and -contributes in his sphere to the general purpose and perfection of -society. - -The art which we profess has beauty for its object; this it is our -business to discover and to express; the beauty of which we are in quest -is general and intellectual; it is an idea that subsists only in the -mind; the sight never beheld it, nor has the hand expressed it: it is an -idea residing in the breast of the artist, which he is always labouring -to impart, and which he dies at last without imparting; but which he is -yet so far able to communicate, as to raise the thoughts, and extend the -views of the spectator; and which, by a succession of art, may be so far -diffused, that its effects may extend themselves imperceptibly into -public benefits, and be among the means of bestowing on whole nations -refinement of taste: which, if it does not lead directly to purity of -manners, obviates at least their greatest depravation, by disentangling -the mind from appetite, and conducting the thoughts through successive -stages of excellence, till that contemplation of universal rectitude and -harmony which began by taste may, as it is exalted and refined, conclude -in virtue. - - - - -DISCOURSE X - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 11, 1780._ - - Sculpture:--Has but One Style.--Its Objects, Form, and - Character.--Ineffectual Attempts of the Modern Sculptors to improve - the Art.--Ill Effects of Modern Dress in Sculpture. - - -GENTLEMEN, - -I shall now, as it has been customary on this day, and on this occasion, -communicate to you such observations as have occurred to me on the -theory of art. - -If these observations have hitherto referred principally to painting, -let it be remembered that this art is much more extensive and -complicated than sculpture, and affords therefore a more ample field for -criticism; and as the greater includes the less, the leading principles -of sculpture are comprised in those of painting. - -However, I wish now to make some remarks with particular relation to -sculpture; to consider wherein, or in what manner, its principles and -those of painting agree or differ; what is within its power of -performing, and what it is vain or improper to attempt; that it may be -clearly and distinctly known what ought to be the great purpose of the -sculptor’s labours. - -Sculpture is an art of much more simplicity and uniformity than -painting; it cannot with propriety, and the best effect, be applied to -many subjects. The object of its pursuit may be comprised in two words, -form and character; and those qualities are presented to us but in one -manner, or in one style only; whereas the powers of painting, as they -are more various and extensive, so they are exhibited in as great a -variety of manners. The Roman, Lombard, Florentine, Venetian, and -Flemish schools, all pursue the same end by different means. But -sculpture, having but one style, can only to one style of painting have -any relation; and to this (which is indeed the highest and most -dignified that painting can boast) it has a relation so close, that it -may be said to be almost the same art operating upon different -materials. The sculptors of the last age, from not attending -sufficiently to this discrimination of the different styles of painting, -have been led into many errors. Though they well knew that they were -allowed to imitate, or take ideas for the improvement of their own art -from the grand style of painting, they were not aware that it was not -permitted to borrow in the same manner from the ornamental. When they -endeavour to copy the picturesque effects, contrasts, or petty -excellences of whatever kind, which not improperly find a place in the -inferior branches of painting, they doubtless imagine themselves -improving and extending the boundaries of their art by this imitation; -but they are in reality violating its essential character, by giving a -different direction to its operations, and proposing to themselves -either what is unattainable, or at best a meaner object of pursuit. The -grave and austere character of sculpture requires the utmost degree of -formality in composition; picturesque contrasts have here no place; -everything is carefully weighed and measured, one side making almost an -exact equipoise to the other: a child is not a proper balance to a -full-grown figure, nor is a figure sitting or stooping a companion to an -upright figure. - -The excellence of every art must consist in the complete accomplishment -of its purpose; and if by a false imitation of nature, or mean ambition -of producing a picturesque effect or illusion of any kind, all the -grandeur of ideas which this art endeavours to excite be degraded or -destroyed, we may boldly oppose ourselves to any such innovation. If the -producing of a deception is the summit of this art, let us at once give -to statues the addition of colour; which will contribute more towards -accomplishing this end, than all those artifices which have been -introduced and professedly defended, on no other principle but that of -rendering the work more natural. But as colour is universally rejected, -every practice liable to the same objection must fall with it. If the -business of sculpture were to administer pleasure to ignorance, or a -mere entertainment to the senses, the Venus of Medicis might certainly -receive much improvement by colour; but the character of sculpture makes -it her duty to afford delight of a different, and, perhaps, of a higher -kind; the delight resulting from the contemplation of perfect beauty: -and this, which is in truth an intellectual pleasure, is in many -respects incompatible with what is merely addressed to the senses, such -as that with which ignorance and levity contemplate elegance of form. - -The sculptor may be safely allowed to practise every means within the -power of his art to produce a deception, provided this practice does not -interfere with or destroy higher excellences; on these conditions he -will be forced, however loth, to acknowledge that the boundaries of his -art have long been fixed, and that all endeavours will be vain that hope -to pass beyond the best works which remain of ancient sculpture. - -Imitation is the means, and not the end, of art; it is employed by the -sculptor as the language by which his ideas are presented to the mind of -the spectator. Poetry and elocution of every sort make use of signs, but -those signs are arbitrary and conventional. The sculptor employs the -representation of the thing itself; but still as a means to a higher -end,--as a gradual ascent always advancing towards faultless form and -perfect beauty. It may be thought at the first view, that even this -form, however perfectly represented, is to be valued and take its rank -only for the sake of a still higher object, that of conveying sentiment -and character, as they are exhibited by attitude, and expression of the -passions. But we are sure from experience, that the beauty of form -alone, without the assistance of any other quality, makes of itself a -great work, and justly claims our esteem and admiration. As a proof of -the high value we set on the mere excellence of form, we may produce the -greatest part of the works of Michael Angelo, both in painting and -sculpture; as well as most of the antique statues, which are justly -esteemed in a very high degree, though no very marked or striking -character or expression of any kind is represented. - -But, as a stronger instance that this excellence alone inspires -sentiment, what artist ever looked at the Torso without feeling a warmth -of enthusiasm, as from the highest efforts of poetry? From whence does -this proceed? What is there in this fragment that produces this effect, -but the perfection of this science of abstract form? - -A mind elevated to the contemplation of excellence perceives in this -defaced and shattered fragment, _disjecti membra poetæ_, the traces of -superlative genius, the relics of a work on which succeeding ages can -only gaze with inadequate admiration. - -It may be said that this pleasure is reserved only to those who have -spent their whole life in the study and contemplation of this art; but -the truth is, that all would feel its effects, if they could divest -themselves of the expectation of _deception_, and look only for what it -really is, a _partial_ representation of nature. The only impediment of -their judgment must then proceed from their being uncertain to what -rank, or rather kind of excellence, it aspires; and to what sort of -approbation it has a right. This state of darkness is, without doubt, -irksome to every mind; but by attention to works of this kind the -knowledge of what is aimed at comes of itself, without being taught, and -almost without being perceived. - -The sculptor’s art is limited in comparison of others, but it has its -variety and intricacy within its proper bounds. Its essence is -correctness: and when to correct and perfect form is added the ornament -of grace, dignity of character, and appropriated expression, as in the -Apollo, the Venus, the Laocoon, the Moses of Michael Angelo, and many -others, this art may be said to have accomplished its purpose. - -What grace is, how it is to be acquired or conceived, are in speculation -difficult questions; but _causa latet, res est notissima:_ without any -perplexing inquiry, the effect is hourly perceived. I shall only -observe, that its natural foundation is correctness of design; and -though grace may be sometimes united with incorrectness, it cannot -proceed from it. - -But to come nearer to our present subject. It has been said that the -grace of the Apollo depends on a certain degree of incorrectness; that -the head is not anatomically placed between the shoulders; and that the -lower half of the figure is longer than just proportion allows. - -I know that Correggio and Parmegiano are often produced as authorities -to support this opinion; but very little attention will convince us, -that the incorrectness of some parts which we find in their works, does -not contribute to grace, but rather tends to destroy it. The Madonna, -with the sleeping Infant, and beautiful group of angels, by Parmegiano, -in the Palazzo Piti, would not have lost any of its excellence, if the -neck, fingers, and indeed the whole figure of the Virgin, instead of -being so very long and incorrect, had preserved their due proportion. - -In opposition to the first of these remarks, I have the authority of a -very able sculptor of this Academy, who has copied that figure, -consequently measured and carefully examined it, to declare, that the -criticism is not true. In regard to the last, it must be remembered, -that Apollo is here in the exertion of one of his peculiar powers, which -is swiftness; he has therefore that proportion which is best adapted to -that character. This is no more incorrectness than when there is given -to a Hercules an extraordinary swelling and strength of muscles. - -The art of discovering and expressing grace is difficult enough of -itself, without perplexing ourselves with what is incomprehensible. A -supposition of such a monster as grace, begot by deformity, is poison to -the mind of a young artist, and may make him neglect what is essential -to his art, correctness of design, in order to pursue a phantom, which -has no existence but in the imagination of affected and refined -speculators. - -I cannot quit the Apollo without making one observation on the character -of this figure. He is supposed to have just discharged his arrow at the -python; and, by the head retreating a little towards the right shoulder, -he appears attentive to its effect. What I would remark, is the -difference of this attention from that of the Discobolus, who is engaged -in the same purpose, watching the effect of his discus. The graceful, -negligent, though animated, air of the one, and the vulgar eagerness of -the other, furnish a signal instance of the judgment of the ancient -sculptors in their nice discrimination of character. They are both -equally true to nature, and equally admirable. - -It may be remarked that grace, character, and expression, though words -of different sense and meaning, and so understood when applied to the -works of painters, are indiscriminately used when we speak of sculpture. -This indecision we may suspect to proceed from the undetermined effects -of the art itself; those qualities are exhibited in sculpture rather by -form and attitude than by the features, and can therefore be expressed -but in a very general manner. - -Though the Laocoon and his two sons have more expression in the -countenance than perhaps any other antique statues, yet it is only the -general expression of pain; and this passion is still more strongly -expressed by the writhing and contortion of the body than by the -features. - -It has been observed in a late publication, that if the attention of the -father in this group had been occupied more by the distress of his -children, than by his own sufferings, it would have raised a much -greater interest in the spectator. Though this observation comes from a -person whose opinion, in everything relating to the arts, carries with -it the highest authority, yet I cannot but suspect that such refined -expression is scarce within the province of this art; and in attempting -it, the artist will run great risk of enfeebling expression, and making -it less intelligible to the spectator. - -As the general figure presents itself in a more conspicuous manner than -the features, it is there we must principally look for expression or -character; _patuit in corpore vultus_; and, in this respect, the -sculptor’s art is not unlike that of dancing, where the attention of the -spectator is principally engaged by the attitude and action of the -performer; and it is there he must look for whatever expression that art -is capable of exhibiting. The dancers themselves acknowledge this, by -often wearing masks, with little diminution in the expression. The face -bears so very inconsiderable a proportion to the effect of the whole -figure, that the ancient sculptors neglected to animate the features, -even with the general expression of the passions. Of this the group of -the Boxers is a remarkable instance; they are engaged in the most -animated action with the greatest serenity of countenance. This is not -recommended for imitation (for there can be no reason why the -countenance should not correspond with the attitude and expression of -the figure), but is mentioned in order to infer from hence, that this -frequent deficiency in ancient sculpture could proceed from nothing but -a habit of inattention to what was considered as comparatively -immaterial. - -Those who think sculpture can express more than we have allowed, may -ask, by what means we discover, at the first glance, the character that -is represented in a bust, cameo, or intaglio? I suspect it will be -found, on close examination, by him who is resolved not to see more than -he really does see, that the figures are distinguished by their -_insignia_ more than by any variety of form or beauty. Take from Apollo -his lyre, from Bacchus his thyrsus and vine-leaves, and Meleager the -board’s head, and there will remain little or no difference in their -characters. In a Juno, Minerva, or Flora, the idea of the artist seems -to have gone no further than representing perfect beauty, and afterwards -adding the proper attributes, with a total indifference to which they -gave them. Thus John De Bologna, after he had finished a group of a -young man holding up a young woman in his arms, with an old man at his -feet, called his friends together, to tell him what name he should give -it, and it was agreed to call it The Rape of the Sabines;[18] and this -is the celebrated group which now stands before the old Palace at -Florence. The figures have the same general expression which is to be -found in most of the antique sculpture; and yet it would be no wonder if -future critics should find out delicacy of expression which was never -intended; and go so far as to see, in the old man’s countenance, the -exact relation which he bore to the woman who appears to be taken from -him. - -Though painting and sculpture are, like many other arts, governed by the -same general principles, yet in the detail, or what may be called the -by-laws of each art, there seems to be no longer any connection between -them. The different materials upon which those two arts exert their -powers must infallibly create a proportional difference in their -practice. There are many petty excellences which the painter attains -with ease, but which are impracticable in sculpture; and which, even if -it could accomplish them, would add nothing to the true value and -dignity of the work. - -Of the ineffectual attempts which the modern sculptors have made by way -of improvement, these seem to be the principal; The practice of -detaching drapery from the figure, in order to give the appearance of -flying in the air; - -Of making different plans in the same bas-relievos; - -Of attempting to represent the effects of perspective:-- - -To these we may add the ill effect of figures clothed in a modern dress. - -The folly of attempting to make stone sport and flutter in the air is so -apparent, that it carries with it its own reprehension; and yet to -accomplish this seemed to be the great ambition of many modern -sculptors, particularly Bernini: his heart was so much set on overcoming -this difficulty, that he was for ever attempting it, though by that -attempt he risked everything that was valuable in the art. - -Bernini stands in the first class of modern sculptors, and therefore it -is the business of criticism to prevent the ill effects of so powerful -an example. - -From his very early work of Apollo and Daphne, the world justly expected -he would rival the best productions of ancient Greece; but he soon -strayed from the right path. And though there is in his works something -which always distinguishes him from the common herd, yet he appears in -his latter performances to have lost his way. Instead of pursuing the -study of that ideal beauty with which he had so successfully begun, he -turned his mind to an injudicious quest of novelty; attempted what was -not within the province of the art, and endeavoured to overcome the -hardness and obstinacy of his materials; which even supposing he had -accomplished, so far as to make this species of drapery appear natural, -the ill effect and confusion occasioned by its being detached from the -figure to which it belongs, ought to have been alone a sufficient reason -to have deterred him from that practice. - -We have not, I think, in our Academy, any of Bernini’s works, except a -cast of the head of his Neptune;[19] this will be sufficient to serve us -for an example of the mischief produced by this attempt of representing -the effects of the wind. The locks of the hair are flying abroad in all -directions, insomuch that it is not a superficial view that can discover -what the object is which is represented, or distinguish those flying -locks from the features, as they are all of the same colour, of equal -solidity, and consequently project with equal force. - -The same entangled confusion which is here occasioned by the hair is -produced by drapery flying off; which the eye must, for the same reason, -inevitably mingle and confound with the principal parts of the figure. - -It is a general rule, equally true in both arts, that the form and -attitude of the figure should be seen clearly, and without any -ambiguity, at the first glance of the eye. This the painter can easily -do by colour, by losing parts in the ground, or keeping them so obscure -as to prevent them from interfering with the more principal objects. The -sculptor has no other means of preventing this confusion than by -attaching the drapery for the greater part close to the figure; the -folds of which following the order of the limbs, whenever the drapery is -seen, the eye is led to trace the form and attitude of the figure at the -same time. - -The drapery of the Apollo, though it makes a large mass, and is -separated from the figure, does not affect the present question, from -the very circumstance of its being so completely separated; and from the -regularity and simplicity of its form, it does not in the least -interfere with a distinct view of the figure. In reality, it is no more -a part of it than a pedestal, a trunk of a tree, or an animal, which we -often see joined to statues. - -The principal use of those appendages is to strengthen and preserve the -statue from accidents; and many are of opinion that the mantle which -falls from the Apollo’s arm is for the same end; but surely it answers a -much greater purpose, by preventing that dryness of effect which would -inevitably attend a naked arm, extended almost at full length; to which -we may add, the disagreeable effect which would proceed from the body -and arm making a right angle. - -The Apostles, in the church of St. John Lateran, appear to me to fall -under the censure of an injudicious imitation of the manner of the -painters. The drapery of those figures, from being disposed in large -masses, gives undoubtedly that air of grandeur which magnitude or -quantity is sure to produce. But though it should be acknowledged that -it is managed with great skill and intelligence, and contrived to appear -as light as the materials will allow, yet the weight and solidity of -stone was not to be overcome. - -Those figures are much in the style of Carlo Maratti, and such as we may -imagine he would have made, if he had attempted sculpture; and when we -know he had the superintendence of that work, and was an intimate friend -of one of the principal sculptors, we may suspect that his taste had -some influence, if he did not even give the designs. No man can look at -those figures without recognising the manner of Carlo Maratti. They have -the same defect which his works so often have, of being overloaded with -drapery, and that too artificially disposed. I cannot but believe, that -if Ruscono, Le Gros, Monot, and the rest of the sculptors employed in -that work, had taken for their guide the simple dress, such as we see in -the antique statues of the philosophers, it would have given more real -grandeur to their figures, and would certainly have been more suitable -to the characters of the Apostles. - -Though there is no remedy for the ill effect of those solid projections -which flying drapery in stone must always produce in statues, yet in -basso-relievos it is totally different; those detached parts of drapery -the sculptor has here as much power over as the painter, by uniting and -losing it in the ground, so that it shall not in the least entangle and -confuse the figure. - -But here again the sculptor, not content with this successful imitation, -if it may be so called, proceeds to represent figures or groups of -figures on different plans; that is, some on the foreground, and some -at a greater distance, in the manner of painters in historical -compositions. To do this he has no other means than by making the -distant figures of less dimensions, and relieving them in a less degree -from the surface; but this is not adequate to the end; they will still -appear only as figures on a less scale, but equally near the eye with -those in the front of the piece. - -Nor does the mischief of this attempt, which never accomplishes its -intention, rest here: by this division of the work into many minute -parts, the grandeur of its general effect is inevitably destroyed. - -Perhaps the only circumstance in which the modern have excelled the -ancient sculptors is the management of a single group in basso-relievo; -the art of gradually raising the group from the flat surface, till it -imperceptibly emerges into alto-relievo. Of this there is no ancient -example remaining that discovers any approach to the skill which Le Gros -has shown in an altar in the Jesuits’ Church at Rome. Different plans or -degrees of relief in the same group have, as we see in this instance, a -good effect, though the contrary happens when the groups are separated, -and are at some distance behind each other. - -This improvement in the art of composing a group in basso-relievo was -probably first suggested by the practice of the modern painters, who -relieve their figures, or groups of figures, from their ground, by the -same gentle gradation; and it is accomplished in every respect by the -same general principles; but as the marble has no colour, it is the -composition itself that must give it its light and shadow. The ancient -sculptors could not borrow this advantage from their painters, for this -was an art with which they appear to have been entirely unacquainted; -and in the basso-relievos of Lorenzo Ghiberti, the casts of which we -have in the Academy, this art is no more attempted than it was by the -painters of his age. - -The next imaginary improvement of the moderns is the representing the -effects of perspective in bas-relief. Of this little need be said; all -must recollect how ineffectual has been the attempt of modern sculptors -to turn the buildings which they have introduced as seen from their -angle, with a view to make them appear to recede from the eye in -perspective. This, though it may show indeed their eager desire to -encounter difficulties, shows at the same time how inadequate their -materials are even to this their humble ambition. - -The ancients, with great judgment, represented only the elevation of -whatever architecture they introduced into their bas-reliefs, which is -composed of little more than horizontal or perpendicular lines; whereas -the interruption of crossed lines, or whatever causes a multiplicity of -subordinate parts, destroys that regularity and firmness of effect on -which grandeur of style so much depends. - -We come now to the last consideration; in what manner statues are to be -dressed, which are made in honour of men, either now living, or lately -departed. - -This is a question which might employ a long discourse of itself: I -shall at present only observe, that he who wishes not to obstruct the -artist, and prevent his exhibiting his abilities to their greatest -advantage, will certainly not desire a modern dress. - -The desire of transmitting to posterity the shape of modern dress must -be acknowledged to be purchased at a prodigious price, even the price of -everything that is valuable in art. - -Working in stone is a very serious business; and it seems to be scarce -worth while to employ such durable materials in conveying to posterity a -fashion of which the longest existence scarce exceeds a year. - -However agreeable it may be to the antiquary’s principles of equity and -gratitude, that as he has received great pleasure from the contemplation -of the fashions of dress of former ages, he wishes to give the same -satisfaction to future antiquaries: yet methinks pictures of an inferior -style, or prints, may be considered as quite sufficient, without -prostituting this great art to such mean purposes. - -In this town may be seen an equestrian statue in a modern dress, which -may be sufficient to deter future artists from any such attempt: even -supposing no other objection, the familiarity of the modern dress by no -means agrees with the dignity and gravity of sculpture. - -Sculpture is formal, regular, and austere; disdains all familiar -objects, as incompatible with its dignity; and is an enemy to every -species of affectation, or appearance of academical art. All contrast, -therefore, of one figure to another, or of the limbs of a single figure, -or even in the folds of the drapery, must be sparingly employed. In -short, whatever partakes of fancy or caprice, or goes under the -denomination of picturesque (however to be admired in its proper place), -is incompatible with that sobriety and gravity which is peculiarly the -characteristic of this art. - -There is no circumstance which more distinguishes a well-regulated and -sound taste, than a settled uniformity of design, where all the parts -are compact, and fitted to each other, everything being of a piece. This -principle extends itself to all habits of life, as well as to all works -of art. Upon this general ground therefore we may safely venture to -pronounce, that the uniformity and simplicity of the materials on which -the sculptor labours (which are only white marble) prescribes bounds to -his art, and teaches him to confine himself to a proportionable -simplicity of design. - - - - -DISCOURSE XI - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the -Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1782._ - -Genius.--Consists principally in the Comprehension of a -whole; in taking General Ideas only. - -GENTLEMEN, - -The highest ambition of every artist is to be thought a man of genius. -As long as this flattering quality is joined to his name, he can bear -with patience the imputation of carelessness, incorrectness, or defects -of whatever kind. - -So far indeed is the presence of genius from implying an absence of -faults, that they are considered by many as its inseparable companions. -Some go such lengths as to take indication from them, and not only -excuse faults on account of genius, but presume genius from the -existence of certain faults. - -It is certainly true, that a work may justly claim the character of -genius, though full of errors; and it is equally true, that it may be -faultless, and yet not exhibit the least spark of genius. This naturally -suggests an inquiry, a desire at least of inquiring, what qualities of a -work and of a workman may justly entitle a painter to that character. - -I have in a former discourse[20] endeavoured to impress you with a fixed -opinion, that a comprehensive and critical knowledge of the works of -nature is the only source of beauty and grandeur. But when we speak to -painters, we must always consider this rule, and all rules, with a -reference to the mechanical practice of their own particular art. It is -not properly in the learning, the taste, and the dignity of the ideas, -that genius appears as belonging to a painter. There is a genius -particular and appropriated to his own trade (as I may call it) -distinguished from all others. For that power, which enables the artist -to conceive his subject with dignity, may be said to belong to general -education; and is as much the genius of a poet, or the professor of any -other liberal art, or even a good critic in any of those arts, as of a -painter. Whatever sublime ideas may fill his mind, he is a painter only -as he can put in practice what he knows, and communicate those ideas by -visible representation. - -If my expression can convey my idea, I wish to distinguish excellence of -this kind by calling it the genius of mechanical performance. This -genius consists, I conceive, in the power of expressing that which -employs your pencil, whatever it may be, _as a whole_; so that the -general effect and power of the whole may take possession of the mind, -and for a while suspend the consideration of the subordinate and -particular beauties or defects. - -The advantage of this method of considering objects is what I wish now -more particularly to enforce. At the same time I do not forget, that a -painter must have the power of contracting as well as dilating his -sight; because, he that does not at all express particulars, expresses -nothing; yet it is certain, that a nice discrimination of minute -circumstances, and a punctilious delineation of them, whatever -excellence it may have (and I do not mean to detract from it), never did -confer on the artist the character of genius. - -Besides those minute differences in things which are frequently not -observed at all, and when they are, make little impression, there are in -all considerable objects great characteristic distinctions, which press -strongly on the senses, and therefore fix the imagination. These are by -no means, as some persons think, an aggregate of all the small -discriminating particulars: nor will such an accumulation of particulars -ever express them. These answer to what I have heard great lawyers call -the leading points in a case or the leading cases relative to those -points. - -The detail of particulars, which does not assist the expression of the -main characteristic, is worse than useless; it is mischievous, as it -dissipates the attention, and draws it from the principal point. It may -be remarked, that the impression which is left on our mind, even of -things which are familiar to us, is seldom more than their general -effect; beyond which we do not look in recognising such objects. To -express this in painting is to express what is congenial and natural to -the mind of man, and what gives him by reflection his own mode of -conceiving. The other presupposes _nicety_ and _research_, which are -only the business of the curious and attentive, and therefore does not -speak to the general sense of the whole species; in which common, and, -as I may so call it, mother tongue, every thing grand and comprehensive -must be uttered. - -I do not mean to prescribe what degree of attention ought to be paid to -the minute parts; this it is hard to settle. We are sure that it is -expressing the general effect of the whole, which alone can give to -objects their true and touching character; and wherever this is -observed, whatever else may be neglected, we acknowledge the hand of a -master. We may even go further, and observe, that when the general -effect only is presented to us by a skilful hand, it appears to express -the object represented in a more lively manner than the minutest -resemblance would do. - -These observations may lead to very deep questions, which I do not mean -here to discuss; among others, it may lead to an inquiry, why we are not -always pleased with the most absolute possible resemblance of an -imitation to its original object. Cases may exist in which such a -resemblance may be even disagreeable. I shall only observe that the -effect of figures in waxwork, though certainly a more exact -representation than can be given by painting or sculpture, is a -sufficient proof that the pleasure we receive from imitation is not -increased merely in proportion as it approaches to minute and detailed -reality; we are pleased, on the contrary, by seeing ends accomplished by -seemingly inadequate means. - -To express protuberance by actual relief, to express the softness of -flesh by the softness of wax, seems rude and inartificial, and creates -no grateful surprise. But to express distances on a plain surface, -softness by hard bodies, and particular colouring by materials which are -not singly of that colour, produces that magic which is the prize and -triumph of art. - -Carry this principle a step further. Suppose the effect of imitation to -be fully compassed by means still more inadequate; let the power of a -few well-chosen strokes, which supersede labour by judgment and -direction, produce a complete impression of all that the mind demands in -an object; we are charmed with such an unexpected happiness of -execution, and begin to be tired with the superfluous diligence, which -in vain solicits an appetite already satiated. - -The properties of all objects, as far as a painter is concerned with -them, are the outline or drawing, the colour, and the light and shade. -The drawing gives the form, the colour its visible quality, and the -light and shade its solidity. - -Excellence in any one of these parts of art will never be acquired by an -artist, unless he has the habit of looking upon objects at large, and -observing the effect which they have on the eye when it is dilated, and -employed upon the whole, without seeing any one of the parts distinctly. -It is by this that we obtain the ruling characteristic, and that we -learn to imitate it by short and dextrous methods. I do not mean by -dexterity a trick or mechanical habit, formed by guess, and established -by custom; but that science, which, by a profound knowledge of ends and -means, discovers the shortest and surest way to its own purpose. - -If we examine with a critical view the manner of those painters whom we -consider as patterns, we shall find that their great fame does not -proceed from their works being more highly finished than those of other -artists, or from a more minute attention to details, but from that -enlarged comprehension which sees the whole object at once, and that -energy of art which gives its characteristic effect by adequate -expression. - -Raffaelle and Titian are two names which stand the highest in our art; -one for drawing, the other for painting. The most considerable and the -most esteemed works of Raffaelle are the cartoons and his fresco works -in the Vatican; those, as we all know, are far from being minutely -finished: his principal care and attention seems to have been fixed upon -the adjustment of the whole, whether it was the general composition, or -the composition of each individual figure; for every figure may be said -to be a lesser whole, though in regard to the general work to which it -belongs, it is but a part; the same may be said of the head, of the -hands, and feet. Though he possessed this art of seeing and -comprehending the whole, as far as form is concerned, he did not exert -the same faculty in regard to the general effect, which is presented to -the eye by colour, and light and shade. Of this the deficiency of his -oil pictures, where this excellence is more expected than in fresco, is -a sufficient proof. - -It is to Titian we must turn our eyes to find excellence with regard to -colour, and light and shade, in the highest degree. He was both the -first and the greatest master of this art. By a few strokes he knew how -to mark the general image and character of whatever object he attempted; -and produced, by this alone, a truer representation than his master -Giovanni Bellini, or any of his predecessors, who finished every hair. -His great care was to express the general colour, to preserve the masses -of light and shade, and to give by opposition the idea of that solidity -which is inseparable from natural objects. When those are preserved, -though the work should possess no other merit, it will have in a proper -place its complete effect; but where any of these are wanting, however -minutely laboured the picture may be in the detail, the whole will have -a false and even an unfinished appearance, at whatever distance, or in -whatever light, it can be shown. - -It is vain to attend to the variation of tints, if, in that attention, -the general hue of flesh is lost; or to finish ever so minutely the -parts, if the masses are not observed, or the whole not well put -together. - -Vasari seems to have had no great disposition to favour the Venetian -painters, yet he everywhere justly commends _il modo di fare, la -maniera, la bella pratica_; that is, the admirable manner and practice -of that school. On Titian, in particular, he bestows the epithets of -_giudicioso_, _bello_, _e stupendo_. - -This manner was then new to the world, but that unshaken truth on which -it is founded, has fixed it as a model to all succeeding painters: and -those who will examine into the artifice, will find it to consist in the -power of generalising, and in the shortness and simplicity of the means -employed. - -Many artists, as Vasari likewise observes, have ignorantly imagined they -are imitating the manner of Titian, when they leave their colours rough, -and neglect the detail; but, not possessing the principles on which he -wrought, they have produced what he calls _goffe pitture_, absurd -foolish pictures; for such will always be the consequence of affecting -dexterity without science, without selection, and without fixed -principles. - -Raffaelle and Titian seem to have looked at nature for different -purposes; they both had the power of extending their view to the whole; -but one looked only for the general effect as produced by form, the -other as produced by colour. - -We cannot entirely refuse to Titian the merit of attending to the -general _form_ of his object, as well as colour; but his deficiency lay, -a deficiency at least when he is compared with Raffaelle, in not -possessing the power, like him, of correcting the form of his model by -any general idea of beauty in his own mind. Of this his St. Sebastian is -a particular instance. This figure appears to be a most exact -representation both of the form and the colour of the model, which he -then happened to have before him; it has all the force of nature, and -the colouring is flesh itself; but, unluckily, the model was of a bad -form, especially the legs. Titian has with as much care preserved these -defects, as he has imitated the beauty and brilliancy of the colouring. -In his colouring he was large and general, as in his design he was -minute and partial; in the one he was a genius, in the other not much -above a copier. I do not, however, speak now of all his pictures; -instances enough may be produced in his works, where those observations -on his defects could not with any propriety be applied: but it is in the -manner or language, as it may be called, in which Titian and others of -that school express themselves, that their chief excellence lies. This -manner is in reality, in painting, what language is in poetry; we are -all sensible how differently the imagination is affected by the same -sentiment expressed in different words, and how mean or how grand the -same object appears when presented to us by different painters. Whether -it is the human figure, an animal, or even inanimate objects, there is -nothing, however unpromising in appearance, but may be raised into -dignity, convey sentiment, and produce emotion, in the hands of a -painter of genius. What was said of Virgil, that he threw even the dung -about the ground with an air of dignity, may be applied to Titian: -whatever he touched, however naturally mean, and habitually familiar, by -a kind of magic he invested with grandeur and importance. - -I must here observe, that I am not recommending a neglect of the detail; -indeed it would be difficult, if not impossible, to prescribe _certain_ -bounds, and tell how far, or when it is to be observed or neglected; -much must, at last, be left to the taste and judgment of the artist. I -am well aware that a judicious detail will sometimes give the force of -truth to the work, and consequently interest the spectator. I only wish -to impress on your minds the true distinction between essential and -subordinate powers; and to show what qualities in the art claim your -_chief_ attention, and what may, with the least injury to your -reputation, be neglected. Something, perhaps, always must be neglected; -the lesser ought then to give way to the greater; and since every work -can have but a limited time allotted to it (for even supposing a whole -life to be employed about one picture, it is still limited), it appears -more reasonable to employ that time to the best advantage, in contriving -various methods of composing the work,--in trying different effect of -light and shadow,--and employing the labour of correction in heightening -by a judicious adjustment of the parts the effects of the whole,--than -that the time should be taken up in minutely finishing those parts. - -But there is another kind of high finishing, which may safely be -condemned, as it seems to counteract its own purpose; that is, when the -artist, to avoid that hardness which proceeds from the outline cutting -against the ground, softens and blends the colours to excess: this is -what the ignorant call high finishing, but which tends to destroy the -brilliancy of colour, and the true effect of representation; which -consists very much in preserving the same proportion of sharpness and -bluntness that is found in natural objects. This extreme softening, -instead of producing the effect of softness, gives the appearance of -ivory, or some other hard substance, highly polished. - -The portraits of Cornelius Jansen appear to have this defect, and -consequently want that suppleness which is the characteristic of flesh; -whereas in the works of Vandyck we find that true mixture of softness -and hardness perfectly observed. The same defect may be found in the -manner of Vanderwerf, in opposition to that of Teniers; and such also, -we may add, is the manner of Raffaelle in his oil pictures, in -comparison with that of Titian. - -The name which Raffaelle has so justly maintained as the first of -painters, we may venture to say was not acquired by this laborious -attention. His apology may be made by saying that it was the manner of -his country; but if he had expressed his ideas with the facility and -eloquence, as it may be called, of Titian, his works would certainly -not have been less excellent; and that praise, which ages and nations -have poured out upon him, for possessing genius in the higher -attainments of art, would have been extended to them all. - -Those who are not conversant in works of art are often surprised at the -high value set by connoisseurs on drawings which appear careless, and in -every respect unfinished; but they are truly valuable; and their value -arises from this, that they give the idea of a whole; and this whole is -often expressed by a dexterous facility which indicates the true power -of a painter, even though roughly exerted: whether it consists in the -general composition, or the general form of each figure, or the turn of -the attitude which bestows grace and elegance. All this we may see fully -exemplified in the very skilful drawings of Parmegiano and Correggio. On -whatever account we value these drawings, it is certainly not for high -finishing, or a minute attention to particulars. - -Excellence in every part, and in every province of our art, from the -highest style of history down to the resemblances of still-life, will -depend on this power of extending the attention at once to the whole, -without which the greatest diligence is vain. - -I wish you to bear in mind, that when I speak of a whole, I do not mean -simply a _whole_ as belonging to composition, but a _whole_ with respect -to the general style of colouring; a _whole_ with regard to the light -and shade; a _whole_ of everything which may separately become the main -object of a painter. - -I remember a landscape-painter in Rome, who was known by the name of -Studio, from his patience in high finishing, in which he thought the -whole excellence of art consisted; so that he once endeavoured, as he -said, to represent every individual leaf on a tree. This picture I -never saw; but I am very sure that an artist, who looked only at the -general character of the species, the order of the branches, and the -masses of the foliage, would in a few minutes produce a more true -resemblance of trees, than this painter in as many months. - -A landscape-painter certainly ought to study anatomically (if I may use -the expression) all the objects which he paints; but when he is to turn -his studies to use, his skill, as a man of genius, will be displayed in -showing the general effect, preserving the same degree of hardness and -softness which the objects have in nature; for he applies himself to the -imagination, not to the curiosity, and works not for the virtuoso or the -naturalist, but for the common observer of life and nature. When he -knows his subject, he will know not only what to describe, but what to -omit; and this skill in leaving out is, in all things, a great part of -knowledge and wisdom. - -The same excellence of manner which Titian displayed in history or -portrait-painting is equally conspicuous in his landscapes, whether they -are professedly such, or serve only as backgrounds. One of the most -eminent of this latter kind is to be found in the picture of St. Pietro -Martire. The large trees, which are here introduced, are plainly -distinguished from each other by the different manner with which the -branches shoot from their trunks, as well as by their different foliage; -and the weeds in the foreground are varied in the same manner, just as -much as variety requires, and no more. When Algarotti, speaking of this -picture, praises it for the minute discriminations of the leaves and -plants, even, as he says, to excite the admiration of a botanist, his -intention was undoubtedly to give praise even at the expense of truth; -for he must have known, that this is not the character of the picture; -but connoisseurs will always find in pictures what they think they ought -to find: he was not aware that he was giving a description injurious to -the reputation of Titian. - -Such accounts may be very hurtful to young artists, who never have had -an opportunity of seeing the work described; and they may possibly -conclude, that this great artist acquired the name of the Divine Titian -from his eminent attention to such trifling circumstances, which, in -reality, would not raise him above the level of the most ordinary -painter. - -We may extend these observations even to what seems to have but a -single, and that an individual object. The excellence of -portrait-painting, and we may add even the likeness, the character, and -countenance, as I have observed in another place, depend more upon the -general effect produced by the painter, than on the exact expression of -the peculiarities, or minute discrimination of the parts. The chief -attention of the artist is therefore employed in planting the features -in their proper places, which so much contributes to giving the effect -and true impression of the whole. The very peculiarities may be reduced -to classes and general descriptions; and there are therefore large ideas -to be found even in this contracted subject. He may afterwards labour -single features to what degree he thinks proper, but let him not forget -continually to examine, whether in finishing the parts he is not -destroying the general effect. - -It is certainly a thing to be wished, that all excellence were applied -to illustrate subjects that are interesting and worthy of being -commemorated; whereas, of half the pictures that are in the world, the -subject can be valued only as an occasion which set the artist to work: -and yet, our high estimation of such pictures, without considering or -perhaps without knowing the subject, shows how much our attention is -engaged by the art alone. - -Perhaps nothing that we can say will so clearly show the advantage and -excellence of this faculty, as that it confers the character of genius -on works that pretend to no other merit; in which is neither expression, -character nor dignity, and where none are interested in the subject. We -cannot refuse the character of genius to the Marriage of Paolo Veronese, -without opposing the general sense of mankind (great authorities have -called it the Triumph of Painting), or to the altar of St. Augustine at -Antwerp, by Rubens, which equally deserves that title, and for the same -reason. Neither of those pictures have any interesting story to support -them. That of Paolo Veronese is only a representation of a great -concourse of people at a dinner; and the subject of Rubens, if it may be -called a subject where nothing is doing, is an assembly of various -saints that lived in different ages. The whole excellence of those -pictures consists in mechanical dexterity, working, however, under the -influence of that comprehensive faculty which I have so often mentioned. - -It is by this, and this alone, that the mechanical power is ennobled, -and raised much above its natural rank. And it appears to me, that with -propriety it acquires this character, as an instance of that superiority -with which mind predominates over matter, by contracting into one whole -what nature has made multifarious. - -The great advantage of this idea of a whole is, that a greater quantity -of truth may be said to be contained and expressed in a few lines or -touches, than in the most laborious finishing of the parts, where this -is not regarded. It is upon this foundation that it stands; and the -justness of the observation would be confirmed by the ignorant in art, -if it were possible to take their opinions unseduced by some false -notion of what they imagine they ought to see in a picture. As it is an -art, they think they ought to be pleased in proportion as they see that -art ostentatiously displayed; they will, from this supposition, prefer -neatness, high finishing, and gaudy colouring, to the truth, simplicity, -and unity of nature. Perhaps too, the totally ignorant beholder, like -the ignorant artist, cannot comprehend a whole, nor even what it means. -But if false notions do not anticipate their perceptions, they who are -capable of observation, and who, pretending to no skill, look only -straight forward, will praise and condemn in proportion as the painter -has succeeded in the effect of the whole. Here, general satisfaction, or -general dislike, though perhaps despised by the painter, as proceeding -from the ignorance of the principles of art, may yet help to regulate -his conduct, and bring back his attention to that which ought to be his -principal object, and from which he has deviated for the sake of minuter -beauties. - -An instance of this right judgment I once saw in a child, in going -through a gallery where there were many portraits of the last ages, -which, though neatly put out of hand, were very ill put together. The -child paid no attention to the neat finishing or naturalness of any bit -of drapery, but appeared to observe only the ungracefulness of the -persons represented, and put herself in the posture of every figure -which she saw in a forced and awkward attitude. The censure of nature, -uninformed, fastened upon the greatest fault that could be in a picture, -because it related to the character and management of the whole. - -I should be sorry, if what has been said should be understood to have -any tendency to encourage that carelessness which leaves work in an -unfinished state. I commend nothing for the want of exactness; I mean -to point out that kind of exactness which is the best, and which is -alone truly to be so esteemed. - -So far is my disquisition from giving countenance to idleness, that -there is nothing in our art which enforces such continual exertion and -circumspection, as an attention to the general effect of the whole. It -requires much study and much practice; it requires the painter’s entire -mind; whereas the parts may be finishing by nice touches, while his mind -is engaged on other matters; he may even hear a play or a novel read -without much disturbance. The artist who flatters his own indolence will -continually find himself evading this active exertion, and applying his -thoughts to the ease and laziness of highly finishing the parts; -producing at last what Cowley calls “laborious effects of idleness.” - -No work can be too much finished, provided the diligence employed be -directed to its proper object; but I have observed that an excessive -labour in the detail has, nine times in ten, been pernicious to the -general effect, even when it has been the labour of great masters. It -indicates a bad choice, which is an ill setting out in any undertaking. - -To give a right direction to your industry has been my principal purpose -in this discourse. It is this, which I am confident often makes the -difference between two students of equal capacities and of equal -industry. While the one is employing his labour on minute objects of -little consequence, the other is acquiring the art, and perfecting the -habit, of seeing nature in an extensive view, in its proper proportions, -and its due subordination of parts. - -Before I conclude, I must make one observation sufficiently connected -with the present subject. - -The same extension of mind which gives the excellence of genius to the -theory and mechanical practice of the art, will direct him likewise in -the method of study, and give him the superiority over those who -narrowly follow a more confined track of partial imitation. Whoever, in -order to finish his education, should travel to Italy, and spend his -whole time there only in copying pictures, and measuring statues or -buildings (though these things are not to be neglected), would return -with little improvement. He that imitates the Iliad, says Dr. Young, is -not imitating Homer. It is not by laying up in the memory the particular -details of any of the great works of art, that any man becomes a great -artist, if he stops without making himself master of the general -principles on which these works are conducted. If he even hopes to rival -those whom he admires, he must consider their works as the means of -teaching him the true art of seeing nature. When this is acquired, he -then may be said to have appropriated their powers, or at least the -foundation of their powers, to himself; the rest must depend upon his -own industry and application. The great business of study is to form a -_mind_, adapted and adequate to all times and all occasions; to which -all nature is then laid open, and which may be said to possess the key -of her inexhaustible riches. - - - - -DISCOURSE XII - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 10, 1784._ - - Particular Methods of Study of Little Consequence.--Little of the - Art can be taught.--Love of Method often a Love of Idleness. - Pittori Improvvisatori apt to be Careless and Incorrect; seldom - Original and Striking. This proceeds from their not studying the - Works of Other Masters. - - -GENTLEMEN, - -In consequence of the situation in which I have the honour to be placed -in this Academy, it has often happened, that I have been consulted by -the young students who intend to spend some years in Italy, concerning -the method of regulating their studies. I am, as I ought to be, -solicitously desirous to communicate the entire result of my experience -and observation; and though my openness and facility in giving my -opinions might make some amends for whatever was defective in them, yet -I fear my answers have not often given satisfaction. Indeed I have never -been sure that I understood perfectly what they meant, and was not -without some suspicion that they had not themselves very distinct ideas -of the object of their inquiry. - -If the information required was, by what means the path that leads to -excellence could be discovered; if they wished to know whom they were to -take for their guides; what to adhere to, and what to avoid; where they -were to bait, and where they were to take up their rest; what was to be -tasted only, and what should be their diet; such general directions are -certainly proper for a student to ask, and for me, to the best of my -capacity, to give; but these rules have been already given: they have in -reality been the subject of almost all my discourses from this place. -But I am rather inclined to think, that by _method of study_, it was -meant (as several do mean), that the times and the seasons should be -prescribed, and the order settled, in which everything was to be done: -that it might be useful to point out to what degree of excellence one -part of the art was to be carried, before the student proceeded to the -next; how long he was to continue to draw from the ancient statues, when -to begin to compose, and when to apply to the study of colouring. - -Such a detail of instruction might be extended with a great deal of -plausible and ostentatious amplification. But it would at best be -useless. Our studies will be for ever, in a very great degree, under the -direction of chance; like travellers, we must take what we can get, and -when we can get it; whether it is or is not administered to us in the -most commodious manner, in the most proper place, or at the exact minute -when we would wish to have it. - -Treatises on education, and method of study, have always appeared to me -to have one general fault. They proceed upon a false supposition of -life; as if we possessed not only a power over events and circumstances, -but had a greater power over ourselves than I believe any of us will be -found to possess. Instead of supposing ourselves to be perfect patterns -of wisdom and virtue, it seems to me more reasonable to treat ourselves -(as I am sure we must now and then treat others) like humoursome -children, whose fancies are often to be indulged, in order to keep them -in good humour with themselves and their pursuits. It is necessary to -use some artifice of this kind in all processes which by their very -nature are long, tedious, and complex, in order to prevent our taking -that aversion to our studies which the continual shackles of methodical -restraint are sure to produce. - -I would rather wish a student, as soon as he goes abroad, to employ -himself upon whatever he has been incited to by any immediate impulse, -than to go sluggishly about a prescribed task: whatever he does in such -a state of mind, little advantage accrues from it, as nothing sinks deep -enough to leave any lasting impression; and it is impossible that -anything should be well understood, or well done, that is taken into a -reluctant understanding, and executed with a servile hand. - -It is desirable, and indeed is necessary to intellectual health, that -the mind should be recreated and refreshed with a variety in our -studies; that in the irksomeness of uniform pursuit we should be -relieved, and, if I may so say, deceived, as much as possible. Besides, -the minds of men are so very differently constituted, that it is -impossible to find one method which shall be suitable to all. It is of -no use to prescribe to those who have no talents; and those who have -talents will find methods for themselves--methods dictated to them by -their own particular dispositions, and by the experience of their own -particular necessities. - -However, I would not be understood to extend this doctrine to the -younger students. The first part of the life of a student, like that of -other schoolboys, must necessarily be a life of restraint. The grammar, -the rudiments, however unpalatable, must at all events be mastered. -After a habit is acquired of drawing correctly from the model (whatever -it may be) which he has before him, the rest, I think, may be safely -left to chance; always supposing that the student is _employed_, and -that his studies are directed to the proper object. - -A passion for his art, and an eager desire to excel, will more than -supply the place of method. By leaving a student to himself, he may -possibly indeed be led to undertake matters above his strength: but the -trial will at least have this advantage, it will discover to himself his -own deficiencies; and this discovery alone is a very considerable -acquisition. One inconvenience, I acknowledge, may attend bold and -arduous attempts; frequent failure may discourage. This evil, however, -is not more pernicious than the slow proficiency which is the natural -consequence of too easy tasks. - -Whatever advantages method may have in dispatch of business (and there -it certainly has many), I have but little confidence of its efficacy in -acquiring excellence in any art whatever. Indeed, I have always strongly -suspected that this love of method, on which some persons appear to -place so great dependence, is, in reality, at the bottom, a love of -idleness; a want of sufficient energy to put themselves into immediate -action: it is a sort of an apology to themselves for doing nothing. I -have known artists who may truly be said to have spent their whole -lives, or at least the most precious part of their lives, in planning -methods of study, without ever beginning; resolving, however, to put it -all in practice at some time or other,--when a certain period -arrives,--when proper conveniences are procured,--or when they remove to -a certain place better calculated for study. It is not uncommon for such -persons to go abroad with the most honest and sincere resolution of -studying hard, when they shall arrive at the end of their journey. The -same want of exertion, arising from the same cause which made them at -home put off the day of labour until they had found a proper scheme for -it, still continues in Italy, and they consequently return home with -little, if any, improvement. - -In the practice of art, as well as in morals, it is necessary to keep a -watchful and jealous eye over ourselves: idleness, assuming the specious -disguise of industry, will lull to sleep all suspicion of our want of -an active exertion of strength. A provision of endless apparatus, a -bustle of infinite inquiry and research, or even the mere mechanical -labour of copying, may be employed, to evade and shuffle off real -labour,--the real labour of thinking. - -I have declined for these reasons to point out any particular method and -course of study to young artists on their arrival in Italy. I have left -it to their own prudence, a prudence which will grow and improve upon -them in the course of unremitted, ardent industry, directed by a real -love of their profession, and an unfeigned admiration of those who have -been universally admitted as patterns of excellence in the art. - -In the exercise of that general prudence, I shall here submit to their -consideration such miscellaneous observations as have occurred to me on -considering the mistaken notions or evil habits, which have prevented -that progress towards excellence, which the natural abilities of several -artists might otherwise have enabled them to make. - -False opinions and vicious habits have done far more mischief to -students, and to professors too, than any wrong methods of study. - -Under the influence of sloth, or of some mistaken notion, is that -disposition which always wants to lean on other men. Such students are -always talking of the prodigious progress they should make, if they -could but have the advantage of being taught by some particular eminent -master. To him they would wish to transfer that care which they ought -and must take of themselves. Such are to be told, that after the -rudiments are past, very little of our art can be taught by others. The -most skilful master can do little more than put the end of the clue into -the hands of his scholar, by which he must conduct himself. - -It is true the beauties and defects of the works of our predecessors -may be pointed out; the principles on which their works are conducted -may be explained; the great examples of ancient art may be spread out -before them; but the most sumptuous entertainment is prepared in vain, -if the guests will not take the trouble of helping themselves. - -Even the Academy itself, where every convenience for study is procured, -and laid before them, may, from that very circumstance, from leaving no -difficulties to be encountered in the pursuit, cause a remission of -their industry. It is not uncommon to see young artists, whilst they are -struggling with every obstacle in their way, exert themselves with such -success as to outstrip competitors possessed of every means of -improvement. The promising expectation which was formed, on so much -being done with so little means, has recommended them to a patron, who -has supplied them with every convenience of study; from that time their -industry and eagerness of pursuit has forsaken them; they stand still, -and see others rush on before them. - -Such men are like certain animals, who will feed only when there is but -little provender, and that got at with difficulty through the bars of a -rack, but refuse to touch it when there is an abundance before them. - -Perhaps such a falling off may proceed from the faculties being -overpowered by the immensity of the materials; as the traveller despairs -ever to arrive at the end of his journey, when the whole extent of the -road which he is to pass is at once displayed to his view. - -Among the first moral qualities, therefore, which a student ought to -cultivate, is a just and manly confidence in himself, or rather in the -effects of that persevering industry when he is resolved to possess. - -When Raffaelle, by means of his connection with Bramante, the Pope’s -architect, was fixed upon to adorn the Vatican with his works, he had -done nothing that marked in him any great superiority over his -contemporaries; though he was then but young, he had under his direction -the most considerable artists of his age; and we know what kind of men -those were: a lesser mind would have sunk under such a weight; and if we -should judge from the meek and gentle disposition which we are told was -the character of Raffaelle, we might expect this would have happened to -him; but his strength appeared to increase in proportion as exertion was -required; and it is not improbable that we are indebted to the good -fortune which first placed him in that conspicuous situation, for those -great examples of excellence which he has left us. - -The observations to which I formerly wished, and now desire, to point -your attention, relate not to errors which are committed by those who -have no claim to merit, but to those inadvertences into which men of -parts only can fall by the overrating or the abuse of some real, though -perhaps subordinate, excellence. The errors last alluded to are those of -backward, timid characters; what I shall now speak of belong to another -class, to those artists who are distinguished for the readiness and -facility of their invention. It is undoubtedly a splendid and desirable -accomplishment to be able to design instantaneously any given subject. -It is an excellence that I believe every artist would wish to possess; -but unluckily, the manner in which this dexterity is acquired, -habituates the mind to be contented with first thoughts without choice -or selection. The judgment, after it has been long passive, by degrees -loses its power of becoming active when exertion is necessary. - -Whoever, therefore, has this talent, must in some measure undo what he -has had the habit of doing, or at least give a new turn to his mind: -great works, which are to live and stand the criticism of posterity, -are not performed at a heat. A proportionable time is required for -deliberation and circumspection. I remember when I was at Rome looking -at the fighting gladiator, in company with an eminent sculptor, and I -expressed my admiration of the skill with which the whole is composed, -and the minute attention of the artist to the change of every muscle in -that momentary exertion of strength, he was of opinion that a work so -perfect required nearly the whole life of man to perform. - -I believe, if we look around us, we shall find, that in the sister art -of poetry, what has been soon done has been as soon forgotten. The -judgment and practice of a great poet on this occasion is worthy -attention. Metastasio, who has so much and justly distinguished himself -throughout Europe, at his outset was an _improvvisatore_, or extempore -poet, a description of men not uncommon in Italy: it is not long since -he was asked by a friend if he did not think the custom of inventing and -reciting _extempore_, which he practised when a boy in his character of -an _improvvisatore_, might not be considered as a happy beginning of his -education; he thought it, on the contrary, a disadvantage to him: he -said that he had acquired by that habit a carelessness and -incorrectness, which it cost him much trouble to overcome, and to -substitute in the place of it a totally different habit, that of -thinking with selection, and of expressing himself with correctness and -precision. - -However extraordinary it may appear, it is certainly true, that the -inventions of the _pittori improvvisatori_, as they may be called, -have,--notwithstanding the common boast of their authors that all is -spun from their own brain,--very rarely anything that has in the least -the air of originality:--their compositions are generally commonplace, -uninteresting, without character or expression, like those flowery -speeches that we sometimes hear, which impress no new ideas on the mind. - -I would not be thought, however, by what has been said, to oppose the -use, the advantage, the necessity there is, of a painter’s being readily -able to express his ideas by sketching. The further he can carry such -designs, the better. The evil to be apprehended is his resting there, -and not correcting them afterwards from nature, or taking the trouble to -look about him for whatever assistance the works of others will afford -him. - -We are not to suppose, that when a painter sits down to deliberate on -any work, he has all his knowledge to seek; he must not only be able to -draw _extempore_ the human figure in every variety of action, but he -must be acquainted likewise with the general principles of composition, -and possess a habit of foreseeing, while he is composing, the effect of -the masses of light and shadow, that will attend such a disposition. His -mind is entirely occupied by his attention to the whole. It is a -subsequent consideration to determine the attitude and expression of -individual figures. It is in this period of his work that I would -recommend to every artist to look over his portfolio, or pocket-book, in -which he has treasured up all the happy inventions, all the -extraordinary and expressive attitudes that he has met with in the -course of his studies; not only for the sake of borrowing from those -studies whatever may be applicable to his own work, but likewise on -account of the great advantage he will receive by bringing the ideas of -great artists more distinctly before his mind, which will teach him to -invent other figures in a similar style. - -Sir Francis Bacon speaks with approbation of the provisionary methods -Demosthenes and Cicero employed to assist their invention: and -illustrates their use by a quaint comparison after his manner. These -particular _Studios_ being not immediately connected with our art, I -need not cite the passage I allude to, and shall only observe that such -preparation totally opposes the general received opinions that are -floating in the world concerning genius and inspiration. The same great -man in another place, speaking of his own essays, remarks, that they -treat of “those things, wherein both men’s lives and persons are most -conversant, whereof a man shall find much in experience, but little in -books”; they are then what an artist would naturally call invention; and -yet we may suspect that even the genius of Bacon, great as it was, would -never have been enabled to have made those observations, if his mind had -not been trained and disciplined by reading the observations of others. -Nor could he without such reading have known that those opinions were -not to be found in other books. - -I know there are many artists of great fame, who appear never to have -looked out of themselves, and who probably would think it derogatory to -their character, to be supposed to borrow from any other painter. But -when we recollect, and compare the works of such men with those who took -to their assistance the inventions of others, we shall be convinced of -the great advantage of this latter practice. - -The two men most eminent for readiness of invention, that occur to me, -are Luca Giordano and La Fage; one in painting, and the other in -drawing. - -To such extraordinary powers as were possessed by both of those artists, -we cannot refuse the character of genius; at the same time, it must be -acknowledged that it was that kind of mechanic genius which operates -without much assistance of the head. In all their works, which are (as -might be expected) very numerous, we may look in vain for anything that -can be said to be original and striking; and yet, according to the -ordinary ideas of originality, they have as good pretensions as most -painters; for they borrowed very little from others, and still less will -any artist, that can distinguish between excellence and insipidity, ever -borrow from them. - -To those men, and all such, let us oppose the practice of the first of -painters. I suppose we shall all agree that no man ever possessed a -greater power of invention, and stood less in need of foreign -assistance, than Raffaelle; and yet, when he was designing one of his -greatest as well as latest works, the cartoons, it is very apparent that -he had the studies which he had made from Masaccio before him. Two noble -figures of St. Paul, which he found there, he adopted in his own work: -one of them he took for St. Paul preaching at Athens; and the other for -the same saint, when chastising the sorcerer Elymas. Another figure in -the same work, whose head is sunk in his breast, with his eyes shut, -appearing deeply wrapped up in thought, was introduced amongst the -listeners to the preaching of St. Paul. The most material alteration -that is made in those two figures of St. Paul is the addition of the -left hands, which are not seen in the original. It is a rule that -Raffaelle observed (and indeed ought never to be dispensed with), in a -principal figure, to show both hands; that it should never be a -question, what is become of the other hand. For the Sacrifice at Listra, -he took the whole ceremony much as it stands in an ancient -basso-relievo, since published in the _Admiranda_. - -I have given examples from those pictures only of Raffaelle which we -have among us, though many other instances might be produced of this -great painter’s not disdaining assistance: indeed his known wealth was -so great, that he might borrow where he pleased without loss of credit. - -It may be remarked, that this work of Masaccio, from which he has -borrowed so freely, was a public work, and at no farther distance from -Rome than Florence; so that if he had considered it a disgraceful theft, -he was sure to be detected; but he was well satisfied that his character -for invention would be little affected by such a discovery; nor is it, -except in the opinion of those who are ignorant of the manner in which -great works are built. - -Those who steal from mere poverty; who, having nothing of their own, -cannot exist a minute without making such depredations; who are so poor -that they have no place in which they can even deposit what they have -taken; to men of this description nothing can be said: but such artists -as those to whom I suppose myself now speaking, men whom I consider as -competently provided with all the necessaries and conveniences of art, -and who do not desire to steal baubles and common trash, but wish only -to possess peculiar rarities which they select to ornament their -cabinets, and take care to enrich the general store with materials of -equal or of greater value than what they have taken; such men surely -need not be ashamed of that friendly intercourse which ought to exist -among artists, of receiving from the dead and giving to the living, and -perhaps to those who are yet unborn. - -The daily food and nourishment of the mind of an artist is found in the -great works of his predecessors. There is no other way for him to become -great himself. _Serpens, nisi serpentem comederit, non fit draco_,[21] -is a remark of a whimsical Natural History, which I have read, though I -do not recollect its title; however false as to dragons, it is -applicable enough to artists. - -Raffaelle, as appears from what has been said, had carefully studied the -works of Masaccio; and indeed there was no other, if we except Michael -Angelo (whom he likewise imitated), so worthy of his attention; and -though his manner was dry and hard, his compositions formal, and not -enough diversified, according to the custom of painters in that early -period, yet his works possess that grandeur and simplicity which -accompany, and even sometimes proceed from, regularity and hardness of -manner. We must consider the barbarous state of the arts before his -time, when skill in drawing was so little understood, that the best of -the painters could not even foreshorten the foot, but every figure -appeared to stand upon his toes; and what served for drapery had, from -the hardness and smallness of the folds, too much the appearance of -cords clinging round the body. He first introduced large drapery, -flowing in an easy and natural manner: indeed he appears to be the first -who discovered the path that leads to every excellence to which the art -afterwards arrived, and may therefore be justly considered as one of the -great fathers of modern art. - -Though I have been led on to a longer digression respecting this great -painter than I intended, yet I cannot avoid mentioning another -excellence which he possessed in a very eminent degree; he was as much -distinguished among his contemporaries for his diligence and industry, -as he was for the natural faculties of his mind. We are told, that his -whole attention was absorbed in the pursuit of his art, and that he -acquired the name of Masaccio[22] from his total disregard to his dress, -his person, and all the common concerns of life. He is indeed a signal -instance of what well-directed diligence will do in a short time; he -lived but twenty-seven years; yet in that short space carried the art so -far beyond what it had before reached, that he appears to stand alone as -a model for his successors. Vasari gives a long catalogue of painters -and sculptors, who formed their taste, and learned their art, by -studying his works; among those, he names Michael Angelo, Lionardo da -Vinci, Pietro Perugino, Raffaelle, Bartolomeo, Andrea del Sarto, Il -Rosso, and Pierino del Vaga. - -The habit of contemplating and brooding over the ideas of great -geniuses, till you find yourself warmed by the contact, is the true -method of forming an artist-like mind; it is impossible, in the presence -of those great men, to think, or invent in a mean manner; a state of -mind is acquired that receives those ideas only which relish of grandeur -and simplicity. - -Beside the general advantage of forming the taste by such an -intercourse, there is another of a particular kind, which was suggested -to me by the practice of Raffaelle, when imitating the work of which I -have been speaking. The figure of the Pro-consul, Sergius Paulus, is -taken from the Felix of Masaccio, though one is a front figure, and the -other seen in profile; the action is likewise somewhat changed; but it -is plain Raffaelle had that figure in his mind. There is a circumstance -indeed, which I mention by the bye, which marks it very particularly; -Sergius Paulus wears a crown of laurel; this is hardly reconcilable to -strict propriety and the _costume_, of which Raffaelle was in general a -good observer; but he found it so in Masaccio, and he did not bestow so -much pains in disguise as to change it. It appears to me to be an -excellent practice, thus to suppose the figures which you wish to adopt -in the works of those great painters to be statues; and to give, as -Raffaelle has here given, another view, taking care to preserve all the -spirit and grace you find in the original. - -I should hope, from what has been lately said, that it is not necessary -to guard myself against any supposition of recommending an entire -dependence upon former masters. I do not desire that you should get -other people to do your business, or to think for you; I only wish you -to consult with, to call in, as counsellors, men the most distinguished -for their knowledge and experience, the result of which counsel must -ultimately depend upon yourself. Such conduct in the commerce of life -has never been considered as disgraceful, or in any respect to imply -intellectual imbecility; it is a sign rather of that true wisdom, which -feels individual imperfection, and is conscious to itself how much -collective observation is necessary to fill the immense extent, and to -comprehend the infinite variety, of nature. I recommend neither -self-dependence nor plagiarism. I advise you only to take that -assistance which every human being wants, and which, as appears from the -examples that have been given, the greatest painters have not disdained -to accept. Let me add, that the diligence required in the search, and -the exertion subsequent in accommodating those ideas to your own -purpose, is a business which idleness will not, and ignorance cannot, -perform. But in order more distinctly to explain what kind of borrowing -I mean, when I recommend so anxiously the study of the works of great -masters, let us for a minute return again to Raffaelle, consider his -method of practice, and endeavour to imitate him, in his manner of -imitating others. - -The two figures of St. Paul which I lately mentioned, are so nobly -conceived by Masaccio, that perhaps it was not in the power even of -Raffaelle himself to raise and improve them, nor has he attempted it; -but he has had the address to change in some measure without -diminishing the grandeur of their character; he has substituted, in the -place of a serene composed dignity, that animated expression which was -necessary to the more active employment he has assigned them. - -In the same manner he has given more animation to the figure of Sergius -Paulus, and to that which is introduced in the picture of St. Paul -preaching, of which little more than hints are given by Masaccio, which -Raffaelle has finished. The closing the eyes of this figure, which in -Masaccio might be easily mistaken for sleeping, is not in the least -ambiguous in the cartoon: his eyes indeed are closed, but they are -closed with such vehemence, that the agitation of a mind _perplexed in -the extreme_ is seen at the first glance; but what is most -extraordinary, and I think particularly to be admired, is, that the same -idea is continued through the whole figure, even to the drapery, which -is so closely muffled about him, that even his hands are not seen; by -this happy correspondence between the expression of the countenance, and -the disposition of the parts, the figure appears to think from head to -foot. Men of superior talents alone are capable of thus using and -adapting other men’s minds to their own purposes, or are able to make -out and finish what was only in the original a hint or imperfect -conception. A readiness in taking such hints, which escape the dull and -ignorant, makes in my opinion no inconsiderable part of that faculty of -the mind which is called genius. - -It often happens that hints may be taken and employed in a situation -totally different from that in which they were originally employed. -There is a figure of a Bacchante leaning backward, her head thrown quite -behind her, which seems to be a favourite invention, as it is so -frequently repeated in basso-relievos, cameos, and intaglios; it is -intended to express an enthusiastic frantic kind of joy. This figure -Baccio Bandinelli, in a drawing that I have of that master, of the -Descent from the Cross, has adopted (and he knew very well what was -worth borrowing) for one of the Marys, to express frantic agony of -grief. It is curious to observe, and it is certainly true, that the -extremes of contrary passions are with very little variation expressed -by the same action. - -If I were to recommend method in any part of the study of a painter, it -would be in regard to invention; that young students should not presume -to think themselves qualified to invent, till they were acquainted with -those stores of invention the world already possesses, and had by that -means accumulated sufficient materials for the mind to work with. It -would certainly be no improper method of forming the mind of a young -artist, to begin with such exercises as the Italians call a _pasticcio_ -composition of the different excellences which are dispersed in all -other works of the same kind. It is not supposed that he is to stop -here, but that he is to acquire by this means the art of selecting, -first what is truly excellent in art, and then what is still more -excellent in nature; a task which, without this previous study, he will -be but ill qualified to perform. - -The doctrine which is here advanced, is acknowledged to be new, and to -many may appear strange. But I only demand for it the reception of a -stranger; a favourable and attentive consideration, without that entire -confidence which might be claimed under authoritative recommendation. - -After you have taken a figure, or any idea of a figure, from any of -those great painters, there is another operation still remaining, which -I hold to be indispensably necessary, that is, never to neglect -finishing from nature every part of the work. What is taken from a -model, though the first idea may have been suggested by another, you -have a just right to consider as your own property. And here I cannot -avoid mentioning a circumstance in placing the model, though to some it -may appear trifling. It is better to possess the model with the attitude -you require, than to place him with your own hands: by this means it -happens often that the model puts himself in an action superior to your -own imagination. It is a great matter to be in the way of accident, and -to be watchful and ready to take advantage of it: besides, when you fix -the position of a model, there is danger of putting him in an attitude -into which no man would naturally fall. This extends even to drapery. We -must be cautious in touching and altering a fold of the stuff, which -serves as a model, for fear of giving it inadvertently a forced form; -and it is perhaps better to take the chance of another casual throw, -than to alter the position in which it was at first accidentally cast. - -Rembrandt, in order to take the advantage of accident, appears often to -have used the palette-knife to lay his colours on the canvas, instead of -the pencil. Whether it is the knife or any other instrument, it suffices -if it is something that does not follow exactly the will. Accident in -the hands of an artist who knows how to take the advantage of its hints, -will often produce bold and capricious beauties of handling and -facility, such as he would not have thought of, or ventured, with his -pencil, under the regular restraint of his hand. However, this is fit -only on occasions where no correctness of form is required, such as -clouds, stumps of trees, rocks, or broken ground. Works produced in an -accidental manner will have the same free unrestrained air as the works -of nature, whose particular combinations seem to depend upon accident. - -I again repeat, you are never to lose sight of nature; the instant you -do, you are all abroad, at the mercy of every gust of fashion, without -knowing or seeing the point to which you ought to steer. Whatever trips -you make, you must still have nature in your eye. Such deviations as art -necessarily requires, I hope in a future discourse to be able to -explain. In the meantime, let me recommend to you, not to have too great -dependence on your practice or memory, however strong those impressions -may have been which are there deposited. They are for ever wearing out, -and will be at last obliterated, unless they are continually refreshed -and repaired. - -It is not uncommon to meet with artists who, from a long neglect of -cultivating this necessary intimacy with nature, do not even know her -when they see her; she appearing a stranger to them, from their being so -long habituated to their own representation of her. I have heard -painters acknowledge, though in that acknowledgment no degradation of -themselves was intended, that they could do better without nature than -with her; or, as they expressed it themselves, _that it only put them -out_. A painter with such ideas and such habits is indeed in a most -hopeless state. _The art of seeing nature_, or, in other words, the art -of using models, is in reality the great object, the point to which all -our studies are directed. As for the power of being able to do tolerably -well, from practice alone, let it be valued according to its worth. But -I do not see in what manner it can be sufficient for the production of -correct, excellent, and finished pictures. Works deserving this -character never were produced, nor ever will arise, from memory alone; -and I will venture to say, that an artist who brings to his work a mind -tolerably furnished with the general principles of art, and a taste -formed upon the works of good artists, in short, who knows in what -excellence consists, will with the assistance of models, which we will -likewise suppose he has learned the art of using, be an over-match for -the greatest painter that ever lived who should be debarred such -advantages. - -Our neighbours, the French, are much in this practice of _extempore_ -invention, and their dexterity is such as even to excite admiration, if -not envy; but how rarely can this praise be given to their finished -pictures! - -The late Director of their Academy, _Boucher_, was eminent in this way. -When I visited him some years since, in France, I found him at work on a -very large picture, without drawings or models of any kind. On my -remarking this particular circumstance, he said, when he was young, -studying his art, he found it necessary to use models; but he had left -them off for many years. - -Such pictures as this was, and such as I fear always will be produced by -those who work solely from practice or memory, may be a convincing proof -of the necessity of the conduct which I have recommended. However, in -justice I cannot quit this painter without adding, that in the former -part of his life, when he was in the habit of having recourse to nature, -he was not without a considerable degree of merit,--enough to make half -the painters of his country his imitators; he had often grace and -beauty, and good skill in composition; but, I think all under the -influence of a bad taste: his imitators are indeed abominable. - -Those artists who have quitted the service of nature (whose service, -when well understood, is _perfect freedom_), and have put themselves -under the direction of I know not what capricious fantastical mistress, -who fascinates and overpowers their whole mind, and from whose dominion -there are no hopes of their being ever reclaimed (since they appear -perfectly satisfied, and not at all conscious of their forlorn -situation), like the transformed followers of Comus,-- - - Not once perceive their foul disfigurement; - But boast themselves more comely than before. - -Methinks such men, who have found out so short a path, have no reason to -complain of the shortness of life, and the extent of art; since life is -so much longer than is wanted for their improvement, or indeed is -necessary for the accomplishment of their idea of perfection. On the -contrary, he who recurs to nature, at every recurrence renews his -strength. The rules of art he is never likely to forget; they are few -and simple; but nature is refined, subtle, and infinitely various, -beyond the power and retention of memory; it is necessary, therefore, to -have continual recourse to her. In this intercourse, there is no end of -his improvement; the longer he lives, the nearer he approaches to the -true and perfect idea of art. - - - - -DISCOURSE XIII - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 11, 1786._ - -Art not merely Imitation, but under the Direction of the Imagination. -In what Manner Poetry, Painting, Acting, Gardening, and Architecture -depart from Nature. - - -GENTLEMEN, - -To discover beauties, or to point out faults, in the works of celebrated -masters, and to compare the conduct of one artist with another, is -certainly no mean or inconsiderable part of criticism; but this is still -no more than to know the art through the artist. This test of -investigation must have two capital defects; it must be narrow, and it -must be uncertain. To enlarge the boundaries of the art of painting, as -well as to fix its principles, it will be necessary, that _that_ art and -_those_ principles should be considered in their correspondence with the -principles of the other arts which, like this, address themselves -primarily and principally to the imagination. When those connected and -kindred principles are brought together to be compared, another -comparison will grow out of this; that is, the comparison of them all -with those of human nature, from whence arts derive the materials upon -which they are to produce their effects. - -When this comparison of art with art, and of all arts with the nature of -man, is once made with success, our guiding lines are as well -ascertained and established, as they can be in matters of this -description. - -This, as it is the highest style of criticism, is at the same time the -soundest; for it refers to the eternal and immutable nature of things. - -You are not to imagine that I mean to open to you at large, or to -recommend to your research, the whole of this vast field of science. It -is certainly much above my faculties to reach it; and though it may not -be above yours to comprehend it fully, if it were fully and properly -brought before you, yet perhaps the most perfect criticism requires -habits of speculation and abstraction, not very consistent with the -employment which ought to occupy and the habits of mind which ought to -prevail in a practical artist. I only point out to you these things, -that when you do criticise (as all who work on a plan will criticise -more or less), your criticism may be built on the foundation of true -principles; and that though you may not always travel a great way, the -way that you do travel may be the right road. - -I observe, as a fundamental ground, common to all the arts with which -we have any concern in this discourse, that they address themselves only -to two faculties of the mind, its imagination and its sensibility. - -All theories which attempt to direct or to control the art, upon any -principles falsely called rational, which we form to ourselves upon a -supposition of what ought in reason to be the end or means of art, -independent of the known first effect produced by objects on the -imagination, must be false and delusive. For though it may appear bold -to say it, the imagination is here the residence of truth. If the -imagination be affected, the conclusion is fairly drawn; if it be not -affected, the reasoning is erroneous, because the end is not obtained; -the effect itself being the test, and the only test, of the truth and -efficacy of the means. - -There is in the commerce of life, as in art, a sagacity which is far -from being contradictory to right reason, and is superior to any -occasional exercise of that faculty; which supersedes it; and does not -wait for the slow progress of deduction, but goes at once, by what -appears a kind of intuition, to the conclusion. A man endowed with this -faculty feels and acknowledges the truth, though it is not always in his -power, perhaps, to give a reason for it; because he cannot recollect and -bring before him all the materials that gave birth to his opinion; for -very many and very intricate considerations may unite to form the -principle, even of small and minute parts, involved in, or dependent on, -a great system of things: though these in process of time are forgotten, -the right impression still remains fixed in his mind. - -This impression is the result of the accumulated experience of our whole -life, and has been collected, we do not always know how, or when. But -this mass of collective observation, however acquired, ought to prevail -over that reason, which, however powerfully exerted on any particular -occasion, will probably comprehend but a partial view of the subject; -and our conduct in life as well as in the arts is, or ought to be, -generally governed by this habitual reason: it is our happiness that we -are enabled to draw on such funds. If we were obliged to enter into a -theoretical deliberation on every occasion, before we act, life would be -at a stand, and art would be impracticable. - -It appears to me, therefore, that our first thoughts, that is, the -effect which anything produces on our minds, on its first appearance, is -never to be forgotten; and it demands for that reason, because it is the -first, to be laid up with care. If this be not done, the artist may -happen to impose on himself by partial reasoning; by a cold -consideration of those animated thoughts which proceed, not perhaps from -caprice or rashness (as he may afterwards conceit), but from the fulness -of his mind, enriched with the copious stores of all the various -inventions which he had ever seen, or had ever passed in his mind. These -ideas are infused into his design, without any conscious effort; but if -he be not on his guard, he may reconsider and correct them, till the -whole matter is reduced to a commonplace invention. - -This is sometimes the effect of what I mean to caution you against; that -is to say, an unfounded distrust of the imagination and feeling, in -favour of narrow, partial, confined, argumentative theories; and of -principles that seem to apply to the design in hand; without considering -those general impressions on the fancy in which real principles of -_sound reason_, and of much more weight and importance, are involved, -and, as it were, lie hid, under the appearance of a sort of vulgar -sentiment. - -Reason, without doubt, must ultimately determine everything; at this -minute it is required to inform us when that very reason is to give way -to feeling. - -Though I have often spoken of that mean conception of our art which -confines it to mere imitation, I must add, that it may be narrowed to -such a mere matter of experiment, as to exclude from it the application -of science, which alone gives dignity and compass to any art. But to -find proper foundations for science is neither to narrow nor to -vulgarise it; and this is sufficiently exemplified in the success of -experimental philosophy. It is the false system of reasoning, grounded -on a partial view of things, against which I would most earnestly guard -you. And I do it the rather, because those narrow theories, so -coincident with the poorest and most miserable practice, and which are -adopted to give it countenance, have not had their origin in the poorest -minds, but in the mistakes, or possibly in the mistaken interpretations, -of great and commanding authorities. We are not therefore in this case -misled by feeling, but by false speculation. - -When such a man as Plato speaks of painting as only an imitative art, -and that our pleasure proceeds from observing and acknowledging the -truth of the imitation, I think he misleads us by a partial theory. It -is in this poor, partial, and so far false view of the art, that -Cardinal Bembo has chosen to distinguish even Raffaelle himself, whom -our enthusiasm honours with the name of Divine. The same sentiment is -adopted by Pope in his epitaph on Sir Godfrey Kneller; and he turns the -panegyric solely on imitation, as it is a sort of deception. - -I shall not think my time misemployed, if by any means I may contribute -to confirm your opinion of what ought to be the object of your pursuit; -because, though the best critics must always have exploded this strange -idea, yet I know that there is a disposition towards a perpetual -recurrence to it, on account of its simplicity and superficial -plausibility. For this reason I shall beg leave to lay before you a few -thoughts on this subject; to throw out some hints that may lead your -minds to an opinion (which I take to be the truth), that painting is not -only to be considered as an imitation, operating by deception, but that -it is, and ought to be, in many points of view, and strictly speaking, -no imitation at all of external nature. Perhaps it ought to be as far -removed from the vulgar idea of imitation, as the refined civilised -state in which we live, is removed from a gross state of nature; and -those who have not cultivated their imaginations, which the majority of -mankind certainly have not, may be said, in regard to arts, to continue -in this state of nature. Such men will always prefer imitation to that -excellence which is addressed to another faculty that they do not -possess; but these are not the persons to whom a painter is to look, any -more than a judge of morals and manners ought to refer controverted -points upon those subjects to the opinions of people taken from the -banks of the Ohio, or from New Holland. - -It is the lowest style only of arts, whether of painting, poetry, or -music, that may be said, in the vulgar sense, to be naturally pleasing. -The higher efforts of those arts, we know by experience, do not affect -minds wholly uncultivated. This refined taste is the consequence of -education and habit; we are born only with a capacity of entertaining -this refinement, as we are born with a disposition to receive and obey -all the rules and regulations of society; and so far it may be said to -be natural to us, and no further. - -What has been said, may show the artist how necessary it is, when he -looks about him for the advice and criticism of his friends, to make -some distinction of the character, taste, experience, and observation in -this art of those from whom it is received. An ignorant uneducated man -may, like Apelles’s critic, be a competent judge of the truth of the -representation of a sandal; or to go somewhat higher, like Molière’s old -woman, may decide upon what is nature, in regard to comic humour; but a -critic in the higher style of art ought to possess the same refined -taste, which directed the artist in his work. - -To illustrate this principle by a comparison with other arts, I shall -now produce some instances to show, that they, as well as our own art, -renounce the narrow idea of nature, and the narrow theories derived from -that mistaken principle, and apply to that reason only which informs us -not what imitation is,--a natural representation of a given object,--but -what it is natural for the imagination to be delighted with. And perhaps -there is no better way of acquiring this knowledge, than by this kind of -analogy: each art will corroborate and mutually reflect the truth on the -other. Such a kind of juxtaposition may likewise have this use, that -whilst the artist is amusing himself in the contemplation of other arts, -he may habitually transfer the principles of those arts to that which he -professes; which ought to be always present to his mind, and to which -everything is to be referred. - -So far is art from being derived from, or having any immediate -intercourse with, particular nature as its model, that there are many -arts that set out with a professed deviation from it. - -This is certainly not so exactly true in regard to painting and -sculpture. Our elements are laid in gross common nature,--an exact -imitation of what is before us: but when we advance to the higher state, -we consider this power of imitation, though first in the order of -acquisition, as by no means the highest in the scale of perfection. - -Poetry addresses itself to the same faculties and the same dispositions -as painting, though by different means. The object of both is to -accommodate itself to all the natural propensities and inclinations of -the mind. The very existence of poetry depends on the licence it assumes -of deviating from actual nature, in order to gratify natural -propensities by other means, which are found by experience full as -capable of affording such gratification. It sets out with a language in -the highest degree artificial, a construction of measured words, such as -never is, nor ever was used by man. Let this measure be what it may, -whether hexameter or any other metre used in Latin or Greek--or rhyme, -or blank verse varied with pauses and accents, in modern -languages,--they are all equally removed from nature, and equally a -violation of common speech. When this artificial mode has been -established as the vehicle of sentiment, there is another principle in -the human mind, to which the work must be referred, which still renders -it more artificial, carries it still further from common nature, and -deviates only to render it more perfect. That principle is the sense of -congruity, coherence, and consistency, which is a real existing -principle in man; and it must be gratified. Therefore having once -adopted a style and a measure not found in common discourse, it is -required that the sentiments also should be in the same proportion -elevated above common nature, from the necessity of there being an -agreement of the parts among themselves, that one uniform whole may be -produced. - -To correspond therefore with this general system of deviation from -nature, the manner in which poetry is offered to the ear, the tone in -which it is recited, should be as far removed from the tone of -conversation, as the words of which that poetry is composed. This -naturally suggests the idea of modulating the voice by art, which I -suppose may be considered as accomplished to the highest degree of -excellence in the recitative of the Italian Opera; as we may conjecture -it was in the chorus that attended the ancient drama. And though the -most violent passions, the highest distress, even death itself, are -expressed in singing or recitative, I would not admit as sound criticism -the condemnation of such exhibitions on account of their being -unnatural. - -If it is natural for our senses, and our imaginations, to be delighted -with singing, with instrumental music, with poetry, and with graceful -action, taken separately (none of them being in the vulgar sense -natural, even in that separate state); it is conformable to experience, -and therefore agreeable to reason as connected with and referred to -experience, that we should also be delighted with this union of music, -poetry, and graceful action, joined to every circumstance of pomp and -magnificence calculated to strike the senses of the spectator. Shall -reason stand in the way, and tell us that we ought not to like what we -know we do like, and prevent us from feeling the full effect of this -complicated exertion of art? This is what I would understand by poets -and painters being allowed to dare everything; for what can be more -daring, than accomplishing the purpose and end of art, by a complication -of means, none of which have their archetypes in actual nature? - -So far therefore is servile imitation from being necessary, that -whatever is familiar, or in any way reminds us of what we see and hear -every day, perhaps does not belong to the higher provinces of art, -either in poetry or painting. The mind is to be transported, as -Shakspeare expresses it, _beyond the ignorant present_ to ages past. -Another and a higher order of beings is supposed; and to those beings -everything which is introduced into the work must correspond. Of this -conduct, under these circumstances, the Roman and Florentine schools -afford sufficient examples. Their style by this means is raised and -elevated above all others; and by the same means the compass of art -itself is enlarged. - -We often see grave and great subjects attempted by artists of another -school; who, though excellent in the lower class of art, proceeding on -the principles which regulate that class, and not recollecting, or not -knowing, that they were to address themselves to another faculty of the -mind, have become perfectly ridiculous. - -The picture which I have at present in my thoughts is a sacrifice of -Iphigenia, painted by Jan Steen, a painter of whom I have formerly had -occasion to speak with the highest approbation; and even in this -picture, the subject of which is by no means adapted to his genius, -there is nature and expression; but it is such expression, and the -countenances are so familiar, and consequently so vulgar, and the whole -accompanied with such finery of silks and velvets, that one would be -almost tempted to doubt, whether the artist did not purposely intend to -burlesque his subject. - -Instances of the same kind we frequently see in poetry. Parts of -Hobbes’s translation of Homer are remembered and repeated merely for the -familiarity and meanness of their phraseology, so ill corresponding with -the ideas which ought to have been expressed, and, as I conceive, with -the style of the original. - -We may proceed in the same manner through the comparatively inferior -branches of art. There are in works of that class, the same distinction -of a higher and a lower style; and they take their rank and degree in -proportion as the artist departs more, or less, from common nature, and -makes it an object of his attention to strike the imagination of the -spectator by ways belonging specially to art,--unobserved and untaught -out of the school of its practice. - -If our judgments are to be directed by narrow, vulgar, untaught, or -rather ill-taught reason, we must prefer a portrait by Denner or any -other high finisher, to those of Titian or Vandyck; and a landscape of -Vanderheyden to those of Titian or Rubens; for they are certainly more -exact representations of nature. - -If we suppose a view of nature represented with all the truth of the -_camera obscura_, and the same scene represented by a great artist, how -little and mean will the one appear in comparison of the other, where no -superiority is supposed from the choice of the subject. The scene shall -be the same, the difference only will be in the manner in which it is -presented to the eye. With what additional superiority then will the -same artist appear when he has the power of selecting his materials, as -well as elevating his style? Like Nicolas Poussin, he transports us to -the environs of ancient Rome, with all the objects which a literary -education makes so precious and interesting to man: or, like Sebastian -Bourdon, he leads us to the dark antiquity of the Pyramids of Egypt; or, -like Claude Lorrain, he conducts us to the tranquillity of arcadian -scenes and fairyland. - -Like the history-painter, a painter of landscapes in this style and with -this conduct sends the imagination back into antiquity; and, like the -poet, he makes the elements sympathise with his subject; whether the -clouds roll in volumes, like those of Titian or Salvator Rosa, or, like -those of Claude, are gilded with the setting sun; whether the mountains -have sudden and bold projections, or are gently sloped; whether the -branches of his trees shoot out abruptly in right angles from their -trunks, or follow each other with only a gentle inclination. All these -circumstances contribute to the general character of the work, whether -it be of the elegant, or of the more sublime kind. If we add to this the -powerful materials of lightness and darkness, over which the artist has -complete dominion, to vary and dispose them as he pleases; to diminish, -or increase them, as will best suit his purpose, and correspond to the -general idea of his work; a landscape thus conducted, under the -influence of a poetical mind, will have the same superiority over the -more ordinary and common views, as Milton’s _Allegro_ and _Penseroso_ -have over a cold prosaic narration or description; and such a picture -would make a more forcible impression on the mind than the real scenes, -were they presented before us. - -If we look abroad to other arts, we may observe the same distinction, -the same division into two classes; each of them acting under the -influence of two different principles, in which the one follows nature, -the other varies it, and sometimes departs from it. - -The theatre, which is said _to hold the mirror up to nature_, -comprehends both those ideas. The lower kind of comedy or farce, like -the inferior style of painting, the more naturally it is represented, -the better; but the higher appears to me to aim no more at imitation, so -far as it belongs to anything like deception, or to expect that the -spectators should think that the events there represented are really -passing before them, than Raffaelle in his cartoons, or Poussin in his -sacraments, expected it to be believed, even for a moment, that what -they exhibited were real figures. - -For want of this distinction, the world is filled with false criticism. -Raffaelle is praised for naturalness and deception, which he certainly -has not accomplished, and as certainly never intended; and our late -great actor, Garrick, has been as ignorantly praised by his friend -Fielding; who doubtless imagined he had hit upon an ingenious device, by -introducing in one of his novels (otherwise a work of the highest merit) -an ignorant man, mistaking Garrick’s representation of a scene in Hamlet -for reality. A very little reflection will convince us, that there is -not one circumstance in the whole scene that is of the nature of -deception. The merit and excellence of Shakspeare, and of Garrick, when -they were engaged in such scenes, is of a different and much higher -kind. But what adds to the falsity of this intended compliment is that -the best stage-representation appears even more unnatural to a person of -such a character, who is supposed never to have seen a play before, than -it does to those who have had a habit of allowing for those necessary -deviations from nature which the art requires. - -In theatric representation, great allowances must always be made for the -place in which the exhibition is represented; for the surrounding -company, the lighted candles, the scenes visibly shifted in your sight, -and the language of blank verse, so different from common English; which -merely as English must appear surprising in the mouths of Hamlet, and -all the court and natives of Denmark. These allowances are made; but -their being made puts an end to all manner of deception: and further, we -know that the more low, illiterate, and vulgar any person is, the less -he will be disposed to make these allowances, and of course to be -deceived by any imitation; the things in which the trespass against -nature and common probability is made in favour of the theatre being -quite within the sphere of such uninformed men. - -Though I have no intention of entering into all the circumstances of -unnaturalness in theatrical representations, I must observe, that even -the expression of violent passion is not always the most excellent in -proportion as it is the most natural; so great terror and such -disagreeable sensations may be communicated to the audience, that the -balance may be destroyed by which pleasure is preserved, and holds its -predominance in the mind: violent distortion of action, harsh screamings -of the voice, however great the occasion, or however natural on such -occasion, are therefore not admissible in the theatric art. Many of -these allowed deviations from nature arise from the necessity which -there is, that everything should be raised and enlarged beyond its -natural state; that the full effect may come home to the spectator, -which otherwise would be lost in the comparatively extensive space of -the theatre. Hence the deliberate and stately step, the studied grace of -action, which seems to enlarge the dimensions of the actor, and alone to -fill the stage. All this unnaturalness, though right and proper in its -place, would appear affected and ridiculous in a private room; _quid -enim deformius, quam scenam in vitam transferre?_ - -And here I must observe, and I believe it may be considered as a general -rule, that no art can be engrafted with success on another art. For -though they all profess the same origin, and to proceed from the same -stock, yet each has its own peculiar modes both of imitating nature, and -of deviating from it, each for the accomplishment of its own particular -purpose. These deviations, more especially, will not bear -transplantation to another soil. - -If a painter should endeavour to copy the theatrical pomp and parade of -dress and attitude, instead of that simplicity, which is not a greater -beauty in life than it is in painting, we should condemn such pictures, -as painted in the meanest style. - -So also gardening, as far as gardening is an art, or entitled to that -appellation, is a deviation from nature; for if the true taste consists, -as many hold, in banishing every appearance of art, or any traces of the -footsteps of man, it would then be no longer a garden. Even though we -define it, “Nature to advantage dress’d,” and in some sense is such, and -much more beautiful and commodious for the recreation of man; it is, -however, when so dressed, no longer a subject for the pencil of a -landscape-painter, as all landscape-painters know, who love to have -recourse to nature herself, and to dress her according to the principles -of their own art; which are far different from those of gardening, even -when conducted according to the most approved principles; and such as a -landscape-painter himself would adopt in the disposition of his own -grounds, for his own private satisfaction. - -I have brought together as many instances as appear necessary to make -out the several points which I wished to suggest to your consideration -in this discourse, that your own thoughts may lead you further in the -use that may be made of the analogy of the arts, and of the restraint -which a full understanding of the diversity of many of their principles -ought to impose on the employment of that analogy. - -The great end of all those arts is, to make an impression on the -imagination and the feeling. The imitation of nature frequently does -this. Sometimes it fails, and something else succeeds. I think therefore -the true test of all the arts is not solely whether the production is a -true copy of nature, but whether it answers the end of art, which is to -produce a pleasing effect upon the mind. - -It remains only to speak a few words of architecture, which does not -come under the denomination of an imitative art. It applies itself, like -music (and I believe we may add poetry), directly to the imagination, -without the intervention of any kind of imitation. - -There is in architecture, as in painting, an inferior branch of art, in -which the imagination appears to have no concern. It does not, however, -acquire the name of a polite and liberal art, from its usefulness, or -administering to our wants or necessities, but from some higher -principle: we are sure that in the hands of a man of genius it is -capable of inspiring sentiment, and of filling the mind with great and -sublime ideas. - -It may be worth the attention of artists to consider what materials are -in their hands, that may contribute to this end; and whether this art -has it not in its power to address itself to the imagination with -effect, by more ways than are generally employed by architects. - -To pass over the effect produced by that general symmetry and -proportion, by which the eye is delighted, as the ear is with music, -architecture certainly possesses many principles in common with poetry -and painting. Among those which may be reckoned as the first is that of -affecting the imagination by means of association of ideas. Thus, for -instance, as we have naturally a veneration for antiquity, whatever -building brings to our remembrance ancient customs and manners, such as -the castles of the barons of ancient chivalry, is sure to give this -delight. Hence it is that _towers and battlements_[23] are so often -selected by the painter and the poet, to make a part of the composition -of their ideal landscape; and it is from hence in a great degree, that -in the buildings of Vanbrugh, who was a poet as well as an architect, -there is a greater display of imagination than we shall find perhaps in -any other, and this is the ground of the effect we feel in many of his -works, notwithstanding the faults with which many of them are justly -charged. For this purpose, Vanbrugh appears to have had recourse to some -of the principles of the Gothic architecture; which, though not so -ancient as the Grecian, is more so to our imagination, with which the -artist is more concerned than with absolute truth. - -The barbaric splendour of those Asiatic buildings, which are now -publishing by a member of this Academy,[24] may possibly, in the same -manner, furnish an architect, not with models to copy, but with hints of -composition and general effect, which would not otherwise have occurred. - -It is, I know, a delicate and hazardous thing (and as such I have -already pointed it out), to carry the principles of one art to another, -or even to reconcile in one object the various modes of the same art, -when they proceed on different principles. The sound rules of the -Grecian architecture are not to be lightly sacrificed. A deviation from -them, or even an addition to them, is like a deviation or addition to, -or from, the rules of other arts,--fit only for a great master, who is -thoroughly conversant in the nature of man, as well as all combinations -in his own art. - -It may not be amiss for the architect to take advantage _sometimes_ of -that to which I am sure the painter ought always to have his eyes open, -I mean the use of accidents; to follow when they lead, and to improve -them, rather than always to trust to a regular plan. It often happens -that additions have been made to houses, at various times, for use or -pleasure. As such buildings depart from regularity, they now and then -acquire something of scenery by this accident, which I should think -might not unsuccessfully be adopted by an architect, in an original -plan, if it does not too much interfere with convenience. Variety and -intricacy is a beauty and excellence in every other of the arts which -address the imagination; and why not in architecture? - -The forms and turnings of the streets of London, and other old towns, -are produced by accident, without any original plan or design; but they -are not always the less pleasant to the walker or spectator, on that -account. On the contrary, if the city had been built on the regular plan -of Sir Christopher Wren, the effect might have been, as we know it is in -some new parts of the town, rather unpleasing; the uniformity might have -produced weariness, and a slight degree of disgust. - -I can pretend to no skill in the detail of architecture. I judge now of -the art, merely as a painter. When I speak of Vanbrugh, I mean to speak -of him in the language of our art. To speak then of Vanbrugh in the -language of a painter, he had originality of invention, he understood -light and shadow, and had great skill in composition. To support his -principal object he produced his second and third groups or masses; he -perfectly understood in his art what is the most difficult in ours, the -conduct of the background, by which the design and invention is set off -to the greatest advantage. What the background is in painting, in -architecture is the real ground on which the building is erected; and no -architect took greater care than he that his work should not appear -crude and hard: that is, it did not abruptly start out of the ground -without expectation or preparation. - -This is a tribute which a painter owes to an architect who composed -like a painter; and was defrauded of the due reward of his merit by the -wits of his time, who did not understand the principles of composition -in poetry better than he; and who knew little or nothing of what he -understood perfectly, the general ruling principles of architecture and -painting. His fate was that of the great Perrault; both were the objects -of the petulant sarcasms of factious men of letters; and both have left -some of the fairest ornaments which to this day decorate their several -countries; the façade of the Louvre, Blenheim, and Castle Howard. - -Upon the whole, it seems to me, that the object and intention of all the -arts is to supply the natural imperfection of things, and often to -gratify the mind by realising and embodying what never existed but in -the imagination. - -It is allowed on all hands, that facts and events, however they may bind -the historian, have no dominion over the poet or the painter. With us, -history is made to bend and conform to this great idea of art. And why? -Because these arts, in their highest province, are not addressed to the -gross senses, but to the desires of the mind, to that spark of divinity -which we have within, impatient of being circumscribed and pent up by -the world which is about us. Just so much as our art has of this, just -so much of dignity, I had almost said of divinity, it exhibits; and -those of our artists who possessed this mark of distinction in the -highest degree acquired from thence the glorious appellation of Divine. - - - - -DISCOURSE XIV - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 10, 1788._ - -Character of Gainsborough;--His Excellences and Defects. - - - GENTLEMEN, - -In the study of our art, as in the study of all arts, something is the -result of _our own_ observation of nature; something, and that not -little, the effect of the example of those who have studied the same -nature before us, and who have cultivated before us the same art, with -diligence and success. The less we confine ourselves in the choice of -those examples, the more advantage we shall derive from them; and the -nearer we shall bring our performances to a correspondence with nature -and the great general rules of art. When we draw our examples from -remote and revered antiquity,--with some advantage undoubtedly in that -selection,--we subject ourselves to some inconveniences. We may suffer -ourselves to be too much led away by great names, and to be too much -subdued by overbearing authority. Our learning, in that case, is not so -much an exercise of our judgment, as a proof of our docility. We find -ourselves, perhaps, too much overshadowed; and the character of our -pursuits is rather distinguished by the tameness of the follower, than -animated by the spirit of emulation. It is sometimes of service, that -our examples should be near us; and such as raise a reverence, -sufficient to induce us carefully to observe them, yet not so great as -to prevent us from engaging with them in something like a generous -contention. - -We have lately lost Mr. Gainsborough, one of the greatest ornaments of -our Academy. It is not our business here to make panegyrics on the -living, or even on the dead who were of our body. The praise of the -former might bear appearance of adulation; and the latter, of untimely -justice; perhaps of envy to those whom we have still the happiness to -enjoy, by an oblique suggestion of invidious comparisons. In discoursing -therefore on the talents of the late Mr. Gainsborough, my object is, not -so much to praise or to blame him, as to draw from his excellences and -defects matter of instruction to the students in our Academy. If ever -this nation should produce genius sufficient to acquire to us the -honourable distinction of an English School, the name of Gainsborough -will be transmitted to posterity, in the history of the art, among the -very first of that rising name. That our reputation in the arts is now -only rising must be acknowledged; and we must expect our advances to be -attended with old prejudices, as adversaries, and not as supporters; -standing in this respect in a very different situation from the late -artists of the Roman school, to whose reputation ancient prejudices have -certainly contributed: the way was prepared for them, and they may be -said rather to have lived in the reputation of their country, than to -have contributed to it; whilst whatever celebrity is obtained by English -artists can arise only from the operation of a fair and true comparison. -And when they communicate to their country a share of their reputation, -it is a portion of fame not borrowed from others, but solely acquired by -their own labour and talents. As Italy has undoubtedly a prescriptive -right to an administration bordering on prejudice, as a soil peculiarly -adapted, congenial, and, we may add, destined to the production of men -of great genius in our art, we may not unreasonably suspect that a -portion of the great fame of some of their late artists has been owing -to the general readiness and disposition of mankind to acquiesce in -their original prepossessions in favour of the productions of the Roman -school. - -On this ground, however unsafe, I will venture to prophesy, that two of -the last distinguished painters of that country, I mean Pompeio Battoni -and Raffaelle Mengs, however great their names may at present sound in -our ears, will very soon fall into the rank of Imperiale, Sebastian -Concha, Placido Constanza, Massuccio, and the rest of their immediate -predecessors; whose names, though equally renowned in their lifetime, -are now fallen into what is little short of total oblivion. I do not say -that those painters were not superior to the artist I allude to, and -whose loss we lament, in a certain routine of practice, which, to the -eyes of common observers, has the air of a learned composition, and -bears a sort of superficial resemblance to the manner of the great men -who went before them. I know this perfectly well; but I know likewise, -that a man, looking for real and lasting reputation, must unlearn much -of the commonplace method so observable in the works of the artists whom -I have named. For my own part, I confess, I take more interest in, and -am more captivated with the powerful impression of nature, which -Gainsborough exhibited in his portraits and in his landscapes, and the -interesting simplicity and elegance of his little ordinary -beggar-children, than with any of the works of that school, since the -time of Andrea Sacchi, or perhaps we may say Carlo Maratti, two painters -who may truly be said to be _Ultimi Romanorum_. - -I am well aware how much I lay myself open to the censure and ridicule -of the academical professors of other nations, in preferring the humble -attempts of Gainsborough to the works of those regular graduates in the -great historical style. But we have the sanction of all mankind in -preferring genius in a lower rank of art, to feebleness and insipidity -in the highest. - -It would not be to the present purpose, even if I had the means and -materials, which I have not, to enter into the private life of Mr. -Gainsborough. The history of his gradual advancement, and the means by -which he acquired such excellence in his art, would come nearer to our -purposes and wishes, if it were by any means attainable; but the slow -progress of advancement is in general imperceptible to the man himself -who makes it; it is the consequence of an accumulation of various ideas -which his mind has received, he does not perhaps know how or when. -Sometimes indeed it happens, that he may be able to mark the time when -from the sight of a picture, a passage in an author, or a hint in -conversation, he has received, as it were, some new and guiding light, -something like inspiration, by which his mind has been expanded; and is -morally sure that his whole life and conduct has been affected by that -accidental circumstance. Such interesting accounts we may, however, -sometimes obtain from a man who has acquired an uncommon habit of -self-examination, and has attended to the progress of his own -improvement. - -It may not be improper to make mention of some of the customs and habits -of this extraordinary man; points which come more within the reach of an -observer; I, however, mean such only as are connected with his art, and -indeed were, as I apprehend, the causes of his arriving to that high -degree of excellence, which we see and acknowledge in his works. Of -these causes we must state, as the fundamental, the love which he had to -his art; to which, indeed, his whole mind appears to have been devoted, -and to which everything was referred; and this we may fairly conclude -from various circumstances of his life, which were known to his -intimate friends. Among others he had a habit of continually remarking -to those who happened to be about him, whatever peculiarity of -countenance, whatever accidental combination of figure, or happy effects -of light and shadow, occurred in prospects, in the sky, in walking the -streets, or in company. If, in his walks, he found a character that he -liked, and whose attendance was to be obtained, he ordered him to his -house: and from the fields he brought into his painting-room stumps of -trees, weeds, and animals of various kinds; and designed them, not from -memory, but immediately from the objects. He even framed a kind of model -of landscapes on his table; composed of broken stones, dried herbs, and -pieces of looking-glass, which he magnified and improved into rocks, -trees, and water. How far this latter practice may be useful in giving -hints, the professors of landscape can best determine. Like every other -technical practice, it seems to me wholly to depend on the general -talent of him who uses it. Such methods may be nothing better than -contemptible and mischievous trifling; or they may be aids. I think upon -the whole, unless we constantly refer to real nature, that practice may -be more likely to do harm than good. I mention it only, as it shows the -solicitude and extreme activity which he had about everything that -related to his art; that he wished to have his objects embodied, as it -were, and distinctly before him; that he neglected nothing which could -keep his faculties in exercise, and derived hints from every sort of -combination. - -We must not forget whilst we are on this subject, to make some remarks -on his custom of painting by night, which confirms what I have already -mentioned,--his great affection to his art; since he could not amuse -himself in the evening by any other means so agreeable to himself. I am -indeed much inclined to believe that it is a practice very advantageous -and improving to an artist; for by this means he will acquire a new and -a higher perception of what is great and beautiful in nature. By -candle-light, not only objects appear more beautiful, but from their -being in a greater breadth of light and shadow, as well as having a -greater breadth and uniformity of colour, nature appears in a higher -style; and even the flesh seems to take a higher and richer tone of -colour. Judgment is to direct us in the use to be made of this method of -study; but the method itself is, I am very sure, advantageous. I have -often imagined that the two great colourists, Titian and Correggio, -though I do not know that they painted by night, formed their high ideas -of colouring from the effects of objects by this artificial light: but I -am more assured, that whoever attentively studies the first and best -manner of Guercino, will be convinced that he either painted by this -light, or formed his manner on this conception. - -Another practice Gainsborough had, which is worth mentioning, as it is -certainly worthy of imitation; I mean his manner of forming all the -parts of his picture together; the whole going on at the same time, in -the same manner as nature creates her works. Though this method is not -uncommon to those who have been regularly educated, yet probably it was -suggested to him by his own natural sagacity. That this custom is not -universal appears from the practice of a painter whom I have just -mentioned, Pompeio Battoni, who finished his historical pictures part -after part; and in his portraits completely finished one feature before -he proceeded to another. The consequence was, as might be expected, the -countenance was never well expressed; and, as the painters say, the -whole was not well put together. - -The first thing required to excel in our art, or, I believe, in any -art, is not only a love for it, but even an enthusiastic ambition to -excel in it. This never fails of success proportioned to the natural -abilities with which the artist has been endowed by Providence. Of -Gainsborough, we certainly know, that his passion was not the -acquirement of riches, but excellence in his art; and to enjoy that -honourable fame which is sure to attend it.--That _he felt this ruling -passion strong in death_ I am myself a witness. A few days before he -died, he wrote me a letter, to express his acknowledgments for the good -opinion I entertained of his abilities, and the manner in which (he had -been informed) I always spoke of him; and desired he might see me, once -more, before he died. I am aware how flattering it is to myself to be -thus connected with the dying testimony which this excellent painter -bore to his art. But I cannot prevail on myself to suppress, that I was -not connected with him by any habits of familiarity: if any little -jealousies had subsisted between us, they were forgotten in those -moments of sincerity; and he turned towards me as one who was engrossed -by the same pursuits, and who deserved his good opinion, by being -sensible of his excellence. Without entering into a detail of what -passed at this last interview, the impression of it upon my mind was, -that his regret at losing life was principally the regret of leaving his -art; and more especially as he now began, he said, to see what his -deficiencies were; which, he said, he flattered himself in his last -works were in some measure supplied. - -When such a man as Gainsborough arrives to great fame, without the -assistance of an academical education, without travelling to Italy, or -any of those preparatory studies which have been so often recommended, -he is produced as an instance, how little such studies are necessary, -since so great excellence may be acquired without them. This is an -inference not warranted by the success of any individual; and I trust it -will not be thought that I wish to make this use of it. - -It must be remembered that the style and department of art which -Gainsborough chose, and in which he so much excelled, did not require -that he should go out of his own country for the objects of his study; -they were everywhere about him; he found them in the streets, and in the -fields; and from the models thus accidentally found, he selected with -great judgment such as suited his purpose. As his studies were directed -to the living world principally, he did not pay a general attention to -the works of the various masters, though they are, in my opinion, always -of great use, even when the character of our subject requires us to -depart from some of their principles. It cannot be denied, that -excellence in the department of the art which he professed may exist -without them; that in such subjects, and in the manner that belongs to -them, the want of them is supplied, and more than supplied, by natural -sagacity, and a minute observation of particular nature. If Gainsborough -did not look at nature with a poet’s eye, it must be acknowledged that -he saw her with the eye of a painter; and gave a faithful, if not a -poetical, representation of what he had before him. - -Though he did not much attend to the works of the great historical -painters of former ages, yet he was well aware that the language of the -art,--the art of imitation,--must be learned somewhere; and as he knew -that he could not learn it in an equal degree from his contemporaries, -he very judiciously applied himself to the Flemish school, who are -undoubtedly the greatest masters of one necessary branch of art; and he -did not need to go out of his own country for examples of that school: -from that he learned the harmony of colouring, the management and -disposition of light and shadow, and every means which the masters of it -practised, to ornament and give splendour to their works. And to satisfy -himself as well as others, how well he knew the mechanism and artifice -which they employed to bring out that tone of colour which we so much -admired in their works, he occasionally made copies from Rubens, -Teniers, and Vandyck, which it would be no disgrace to the most accurate -connoisseur to mistake, at the first sight, for the works of those -masters. What he thus learned, he applied to the originals of nature, -which he saw with his own eyes; and imitated, not in the manner of those -masters, but in his own. - -Whether he most excelled in portraits, landscapes, or fancy-pictures, it -is difficult to determine: whether his portraits were most admirable for -exact truth of resemblance, or his landscapes for a portrait-like -representation of nature, such as we see in the works of Rubens, -Ruysdaal, and others of those schools. In his fancy-pictures, whence had -fixed on his object of imitation, whether it was the mean and vulgar -form of a wood-cutter, or a child of an interesting character, as he did -not attempt to raise the one, so neither did he lose any of the natural -grace and elegance of the other; such a grace, and such an elegance, as -are more frequently found in cottages than in courts. This excellence -was his own, the result of his particular observation and taste; for -this he was certainly not indebted to the Flemish school, nor indeed to -any school; for his grace was not academical or antique, but selected by -himself from the great school of nature; and there are yet a thousand -modes of grace, which are neither theirs nor his, but lie open in the -multiplied scenes and figures of life, to be brought out by skilful and -faithful observers. - -Upon the whole, we may justly say, that whatever he attempted he -carried to a high degree of excellence. It is to the credit of his good -sense and judgment that he never did attempt that style of historical -painting for which his previous studies had made no preparation. - -And here it naturally occurs to oppose the sensible conduct of -Gainsborough in this respect to that of our late excellent Hogarth, who, -with all his extraordinary talents, was not blessed with this knowledge -of his own deficiency or of the bounds which were set to the extent of -his own powers. After this admirable artist had spent the greatest part -of his life in an active, busy, and, we may add, successful attention to -the ridicule of life; after he had invented a new species of dramatic -painting, in which probably he will never be equalled, and had stored -his mind with infinite materials to explain and illustrate the domestic -and familiar scenes of common life, which were generally, and ought to -have been always, the subject of his pencil; he very imprudently, or -rather presumptuously, attempted the great historical style, for which -his previous habits had by no means prepared him: he was indeed so -entirely unacquainted with the principles of this style, that he was not -even aware that any artificial preparation was at all necessary. It is -to be regretted that any part of the life of such a genius should be -fruitlessly employed. Let his failure teach us not to indulge ourselves -in the vain imagination, that by a momentary resolution we can give -either dexterity to the hand, or a new habit to the mind. - -I have, however, little doubt but that the same sagacity which enabled -those two extraordinary men to discover their true object, and the -peculiar excellence of that branch of art which they cultivated, would -have been equally effectual in discovering the principles of the higher -style; if they had investigated those principles with the same eager -industry, which they exerted in their own department. As Gainsborough -never attempted the heroic style, so neither did he destroy the -character and uniformity of his own style, by the idle affectation of -introducing mythological learning in any of his pictures. Of this boyish -folly we see instances enough, even in the works of great painters. When -the Dutch school attempt this poetry of our art in their landscapes, -their performances are beneath criticism; they become only an object of -laughter. This practice is hardly excusable, even in Claude Lorrain, who -had shown more discretion, if he had never meddled with such subjects. - -Our late ingenious Academician, Wilson, has I fear, been guilty, like -many of his predecessors, of introducing gods and goddesses, ideal -beings, into scenes which were by no means prepared to receive such -personages. His landscapes were in reality too near common nature to -admit supernatural objects. In consequence of this mistake, in a very -admirable picture of a storm which I have seen of his hand, many figures -are introduced in the foreground, some in apparent distress, and some -struck dead, as a spectator would naturally suppose, by the lightning; -had not the painter injudiciously (as I think) rather chosen that their -death should be imputed to a little Apollo, who appears in the sky, with -his bent bow, and that those figures should be considered as the -children of Niobe. - -To manage a subject of this kind, a peculiar style of art is required; -and it can only be done without impropriety, or even without ridicule, -when we adapt the character of the landscape, and that too, in all its -parts, to the historical or poetical representation. This is a very -difficult adventure, and it requires a mind thrown back two thousand -years, and as it were naturalised in antiquity, like that of Nicolas -Poussin, to achieve it. In the picture alluded to, the first idea that -presents itself is that of wonder, at seeing a figure in so uncommon a -situation as that in which the Apollo is placed; for the clouds on which -he kneels have not the appearance of being able to support him; they -have neither the substance nor the form fit for the receptacle of a -human figure; and they do not possess in any respect that romantic -character which is appropriated to such an object, and which alone can -harmonise with poetical stories. - -It appears to me that such conduct is no less absurd, than if a plain -man, giving a relation of a real distress, occasioned by an inundation -accompanied with thunder and lightning, should, instead of simply -relating the event, take it into his head, in order to give a grace to -his narration, to talk of Jupiter Pluvius, or Jupiter and his -thunder-bolts, or any other figurative idea; an intermixture which, -though in poetry, with its proper preparations and accompaniments, it -might be managed with effect, yet in the instance before us would -counteract the purpose of the narrator, and instead of being -interesting, would be only ridiculous. - -The Dutch and Flemish style of landscape, not even excepting those of -Rubens, is unfit for poetical subjects; but to explain in what this -ineptitude consists, or to point out all the circumstances that give -nobleness, grandeur, and the poetic character to style, in landscape, -would require a long discourse of itself; and the end would be then -perhaps but imperfectly attained. The painter who is ambitious of this -perilous excellence must catch his inspiration from those who have -cultivated with success the poetry, as it may be called, of the art; and -they are few indeed. - -I cannot quit this subject without mentioning two examples which occur -to me at present, in which the poetical style of landscape may be seen -happily executed; the one is Jacob’s Dream, by Salvator Rosa, and the -other the Return of the Ark from Captivity, by Sebastian Bourdon.[25] -With whatever dignity those histories are presented to us in the -language of Scripture, this style of painting possesses the same power -of inspiring sentiments of grandeur and sublimity, and is able to -communicate them to subjects which appear by no means adapted to receive -them. A ladder against the sky has no very promising appearance of -possessing a capacity to excite any heroic ideas; and the Ark, in the -hands of a second-rate master, would have little more effect than a -common waggon on the highway; yet those subjects are so poetically -treated throughout, the parts have such a correspondence with each -other, and the whole and every part of the scene is so visionary, that -it is impossible to look at them without feeling, in some measure, the -enthusiasm which seems to have inspired the painters. - -By continual contemplation of such works, a sense of the higher -excellences of art will by degrees dawn on the imagination; at every -review that sense will become more and more assured, until we come to -enjoy a sober certainty of the real existence (if I may so express -myself) of those almost ideal beauties; and the artist will then find no -difficulty in fixing in his mind the principles by which the impression -is produced, which he will feel and practise, though they are perhaps -too delicate and refined, and too peculiar to the imitative art, to be -conveyed to the mind by any other means. - -To return to Gainsborough: the peculiarity of his manner, or style, or -we may call it the language in which he expressed his ideas, has been -considered by many as his greatest defect. But without altogether -wishing to enter into the discussion--whether this peculiarity was a -defect or not, intermixed, as it was, with great beauties, of some of -which it was probably the cause--it becomes a proper subject of -criticism and inquiry to a painter. - -A novelty and peculiarity of manner, as it is often a cause of our -approbation, so likewise it is often a ground of censure; as being -contrary to the practice of other painters, in whose manner we have been -initiated, and in whose favour we have perhaps been prepossessed from -our infancy; for, fond as we are of novelty, we are upon the whole -creatures of habit. However, it is certain, that all those odd scratches -and marks, which on a close examination are so observable in -Gainsborough’s pictures, and which even to experienced painters appear -rather the effect of accident than design; this chaos, this uncouth and -shapeless appearance, by a kind of magic, at a certain distance assumes -form, and all the parts seem to drop into their proper places; so that -we can hardly refuse acknowledging the full effect of diligence, under -the appearance of chance and hasty negligence. That Gainsborough himself -considered this peculiarity in his manner, and the power it possesses of -exciting surprise, as a beauty in his works, I think may be inferred -from the eager desire which we know he always expressed, that his -pictures, at the exhibition, should be seen near, as well as at a -distance. - -The slightness which we see in his best works cannot always be imputed -to negligence. However they may appear to superficial observers, -painters know very well that a steady attention to the general effect -takes up more time, and is much more laborious to the mind, than any -mode of high finishing or smoothness, without such attention. His -_handling, the manner of leaving the colours_, or, in other words, the -methods he used for producing the effect, had very much the appearance -of the work of an artist who had never learned from others the usual and -regular practice belonging to the art; but still, like a man of strong -intuitive perception of what was required, he found out a way of his own -to accomplish his purpose. - -It is no disgrace to the genius of Gainsborough, to compare him to such -men as we sometimes meet with, whose natural eloquence appears even in -speaking a language which they can scarce be said to understand; and -who, without knowing the appropriate expression of almost any one idea, -contrive to communicate the lively and forcible impressions of an -energetic mind. - -I think some apology may reasonably be made for his manner, without -violating truth, or running any risk of poisoning the minds of the -younger students, by propagating false criticism, for the sake of -raising the character of a favourite artist. It must be allowed, that -this hatching manner of Gainsborough did very much contribute to the -lightness of effect which is so eminent a beauty in his pictures; as, on -the contrary, much smoothness, and uniting the colours, is apt to -produce heaviness. Every artist must have remarked, how often that -lightness of hand which was in his dead-colour, or first painting, -escaped in the finishing, when he had determined the parts with more -precision: and another loss he often experiences, which is of greater -consequence; whilst he is employed in the detail, the effect of the -whole together is either forgotten or neglected. The likeness of a -portrait, as I have formerly observed, consists more in preserving the -general effect of the countenance, than in the most minute finishing of -the features, or any of the particular parts. Now Gainsborough’s -portraits were often little more, in regard to finishing, or determining -the form of the features, than what generally attends a dead-colour; -but as he was always attentive to the general effect, or whole together, -I have often imagined that this unfinished manner contributed even to -that striking resemblance for which his portraits are so remarkable. -Though this opinion may be considered as fanciful, yet I think a -plausible reason may be given, why such a mode of painting should have -such an effect. It is pre-supposed that in this undetermined manner -there is the general effect; enough to remind the spectator of the -original; the imagination supplies the rest, and perhaps more -satisfactorily to himself, if not more exactly, than the artist, with -all his care, could possibly have done. At the same time it must be -acknowledged there is one evil attending this mode: that if the portrait -were seen, previous to any knowledge of the original, different persons -would form different ideas, and all would be disappointed at not finding -the original correspond with their own conceptions, under the great -latitude which indistinctness gives to the imagination to assume almost -what character or form it pleases. - -Every artist has some favourite part, on which he fixes his attention, -and which he pursues with such eagerness, that it absorbs every other -consideration; and he often falls into the opposite error of that which -he would avoid, which is always ready to receive him. Now Gainsborough, -having truly a painter’s eye for colouring, cultivated those effects of -the art which proceed from colours; and sometimes appears to be -indifferent to or to neglect other excellences. Whatever defects are -acknowledged, let him still experience from us the same candour that we -so freely give upon similar occasions to the ancient masters; let us not -encourage that fastidious disposition, which is discontented with -everything short of perfection, and unreasonably require, as we -sometimes do, a union of excellences, not perhaps quite compatible with -each other.--We may, on this ground, say even of the divine Raffaelle, -that he might have finished his picture as highly and as correctly as -was his custom, without heaviness of manner; and that Poussin might have -preserved all his precision without hardness or dryness. - -To show the difficulty of uniting solidity with lightness of manner, we -may produce a picture of Rubens in the Church of St. Judule, at -Brussels, as an example; the subject is _Christ’s charge to Peter_, -which, as it is the highest, and smoothest, finished picture I remember -to have seen of that master, so it is by far the heaviest; and if I had -found it in any other place, I should have suspected it to be a copy; -for painters know very well that it is principally by this air of -facility, or the want of it, that originals are distinguished from -copies.--A lightness of effect, produced by colour, and that produced by -facility of handling, are generally united; a copy may preserve -something of the one, it is true, but hardly ever of the other; a -connoisseur therefore finds it often necessary to look carefully into -the picture before he determines on its originality. Gainsborough -possessed this quality of lightness of manner and effect, I think, to an -unexampled degree of excellence; but it must be acknowledged, at the -same time, that the sacrifice which he made to this ornament of our art -was too great; it was, in reality, preferring the lesser excellences to -the greater. - -To conclude. However we may apologise for the deficiencies of -Gainsborough (I mean particularly his want of precision and finishing), -who so ingeniously contrived to cover his defects by his beauties; and -who cultivated that department of art, where such defects are more -easily excused; you are to remember, that no apology can be made for -this deficiency, in that style which this Academy teaches, and which -ought to be the object of your pursuit. It will be necessary for you, in -the first place, never to lose sight of the great rules and principles -of the art, as they are collected from the full body of the best general -practice, and the most constant and uniform experience; this must be the -groundwork of all your studies; afterwards you may profit, as in this -case I wish you to profit, by the peculiar experience and personal -talents of artists living and dead; you may derive lights, and catch -hints, from their practice; but the moment you turn them into models, -you fall infinitely below them; you may be corrupted by excellences, not -so much belonging to the art, as personal and appropriated to the -artist; and become bad copies of good painters, instead of excellent -imitators of the great universal truth of things. - - - - -DISCOURSE XV - -_Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of -the Prizes, December 10, 1790._ - - The President takes Leave of the Academy.--A Review of the - Discourses.--The Study of the Works of Michael Angelo recommended. - - - GENTLEMEN, - -The intimate connection which I have had with the Royal Academy ever -since its establishment, the social duties in which we have all mutually -engaged for so many years, make any profession of attachment to this -Institution, on my part, altogether superfluous; the influence of habit -alone in such a connection would naturally have produced it. - -Among men united in the same body, and engaged in the same pursuit, -along with permanent friendship occasional differences will arise. In -these disputes men are naturally too favourable to themselves, and -think perhaps too hardly of their antagonists. But composed and -constituted as we are, those little contentions will be lost to others, -and they ought certainly to be lost amongst ourselves, in mutual esteem -for talents and acquirements: every controversy ought to be, and I am -persuaded will be, sunk in our zeal for the perfection of our common -art. - -In parting with the Academy, I shall remember with pride, affection, and -gratitude, the support with which I have almost uniformly been honoured -from the commencement of our intercourse. I shall leave you, gentlemen, -with unaffected cordial wishes for your future concord, and with a -well-founded hope, that in that concord the auspicious and not obscure -origin of our Academy may be forgotten in the splendour of your -succeeding prospects. - -My age, and my infirmities still more than my age, make it probable that -this will be the last time I shall have the honour of addressing you -from this place. Excluded as I am, _spatiis iniquis_, from indulging my -imagination with a distant and forward perspective of life, I may be -excused if I turn my eyes back on the way which I have passed. - -We may assume to ourselves, I should hope, the credit of having -endeavoured, at least, to fill with propriety that middle station which -we hold in the general connection of things. Our predecessors have -laboured for our advantage, we labour for our successors; and though we -have done no more in this mutual intercourse and reciprocation of -benefits, than has been effected by other societies formed in this -nation for the advancement of useful and ornamental knowledge, yet there -is one circumstance which appears to give us a higher claim than the -credit of merely doing our duty. What I at present allude to, is the -honour of having been, some of us the first contrivers, and all of us -the promoters and supporters, of the annual exhibition. This scheme -could only have originated from artists already in possession of the -favour of the public, as it would not have been so much in the power of -others to have excited curiosity. It must be remembered, that for the -sake of bringing forward into notice concealed merit, they incurred the -risk of producing rivals to themselves; they voluntarily entered the -lists, and ran the race a second time for the prize which they had -already won. - -When we take a review of the several departments of the Institution, I -think we may safely congratulate ourselves on our good fortune in having -hitherto seen the chairs of our professors filled with men of -distinguished abilities, and who have so well acquitted themselves of -their duty in their several departments. I look upon it to be of -importance, that none of them should be ever left unfilled: a neglect to -provide for qualified persons is to produce a neglect of qualifications. - -In this honourable rank of professors, I have not presumed to class -myself; though in the discourses which I have had the honour of -delivering from this place, while in one respect I may be considered as -a volunteer, in another view it seems as if I was involuntarily pressed -into this service. If prizes were to be given, it appeared not only -proper, but almost indispensably necessary, that something should be -said by the President on the delivery of those prizes: and the President -for his own credit would wish to say something more than mere words of -compliment, which, by being frequently repeated, would soon become flat -and uninteresting, and by being uttered to many, would at last become a -distinction to none: I thought, therefore, if I were to preface this -compliment with some instructive observations on the art, when we -crowned merit in the artists whom we rewarded, I might do something to -animate and guide them in their future attempts. - -I am truly sensible how unequal I have been to the expression of my own -ideas. To develop the latent excellences, and draw out the interior -principles, of our art, requires more skill and practice in writing, -than is likely to be possessed by a man perpetually occupied in the use -of the pencil and the palette. It is for that reason, perhaps, that the -sister art has had the advantage of better criticism. Poets are -naturally writers of prose. They may be said to be practising only an -inferior department of their own art, when they are explaining and -expatiating upon its most refined principles. But still such -difficulties ought not to deter artists who are not prevented by other -engagements from putting their thoughts in order as well as they can, -and from giving to the public the result of their experience. The -knowledge which an artist has of his subject will more than compensate -for any want of elegance in the manner of treating it, or even of -perspicuity, which is still more essential; and I am convinced that one -short essay written by a painter will contribute more to advance the -theory of our art, than a thousand volumes such as we sometimes see; the -purpose of which appears to be rather to display the refinement of the -author’s own conceptions of impossible practice, than to convey useful -knowledge or instruction of any kind whatever. An artist knows what is, -and what is not, within the province of his art to perform; and is not -likely to be for ever teasing the poor student with the beauties of -mixed passions, or to perplex him with an imaginary union of excellences -incompatible with each other. - -To this work, however, I could not be said to come totally unprovided -with materials. I had seen much, and I had thought much upon what I had -seen; I had something of a habit of investigation, and a disposition to -reduce all that I observed and felt in my own mind to method and system; -but never having seen what I myself knew, distinctly placed before me on -paper, I knew nothing correctly. To put those ideas into something like -order was, to my inexperience, no easy task. The composition, the -_ponere totum_ even of a single discourse, as well as of a single -statue, was the most difficult part, as perhaps it is of every other -art, and most requires the hand of a master. - -For the manner, whatever deficiency there was, I might reasonably expect -indulgence; but I thought it indispensably necessary well to consider -the opinions which were to be given out from this place, and under the -sanction of a Royal Academy. I therefore examined not only my own -opinions, but likewise the opinions of others. I found in the course of -this research many precepts and rules established in our art, which did -not seem to me altogether reconcilable with each other, yet each seemed -in itself to have the same claim of being supported by truth and nature; -and this claim, irreconcilable as they may be thought, they do in -reality alike possess. - -To clear away those difficulties, and reconcile those contrary opinions, -it became necessary to distinguish the greater truth, as it may be -called, from the lesser truth; the larger and more liberal idea of -nature from the more narrow and confined; that which addresses itself to -the imagination, from that which is solely addressed to the eye. In -consequence of this discrimination, the different branches of our art, -to which those different truths were referred, were perceived to make so -wide a separation, and put on so new an appearance, that they seemed -scarcely to have proceeded from the same general stock. The different -rules and regulations, which presided over each department of art, -followed of course: every mode of excellence, from the grand style of -the Roman and Florentine schools down to the lowest rank of still-life, -had its due weight and value,--fitted some class or other; and nothing -was thrown away. By this disposition of our art into classes, that -perplexity and confusion, which I apprehend every artist has at some -time experienced from the variety of styles, and the variety of -excellence with which he is surrounded, is, I should hope, in some -measure removed, and the student better enabled to judge for himself, -what peculiarly belongs to his own particular pursuit. - -In reviewing my discourses, it is no small satisfaction to be assured -that I have, in no part of them, lent my assistance to foster -_newly-hatched unfledged_ opinions, or endeavoured to support paradoxes, -however tempting may have been their novelty; or however ingenious I -might, for the minute, fancy them to be; nor shall I, I hope, anywhere -be found to have imposed on the minds of young students declamation for -argument, a smooth period for a sound precept. I have pursued a plain -and _honest method_; I have taken up the art simply as I found it -exemplified in the practice of the most approved painters. That -approbation which the world has uniformly given, I have endeavoured to -justify by such proofs as questions of this kind will admit; by the -analogy which painting holds with the sister arts, and consequently by -the common congeniality which they all bear to our nature. And though in -what has been done no new discovery is pretended, I may still flatter -myself, that from the discoveries which others have made by their own -intuitive good sense and native rectitude of judgment, I have succeeded -in establishing the rules and principles of our art on a more firm and -lasting foundation than that on which they had formerly been placed. - -Without wishing to divert the student from the practice of his art to -speculative theory, to make him a mere connoisseur instead of a painter, -I cannot but remark, that he will certainly find an account in -considering once for all, on what ground the fabric of our art is built. -Uncertain, confused, or erroneous opinions are not only detrimental to -an artist in their immediate operation, but may possibly have very -serious consequences; affect his conduct, and give a peculiar character -(as it may be called) to his taste, and to his pursuits, through his -whole life. - -I was acquainted at Rome, in the early part of my life, with a student -of the French Academy, who appeared to me to possess all the qualities -requisite to make a great artist, if he had suffered his taste and -feelings, and I may add even his prejudices, to have fair play. He saw -and felt the excellences of the great works of art with which we were -surrounded, but lamented that there was not to be found that nature -which is so admirable in the inferior schools; and he supposed with -Felibien, Du Piles, and other Theorists, that such a union of different -excellences would be the perfection of art. He was not aware, that the -narrow idea of nature, of which he lamented the absence in the works of -those great artists, would have destroyed the grandeur of the general -ideas which he admired, and which was indeed the cause of his -admiration. My opinions being then confused and unsettled, I was in -danger of being borne down by this kind of plausible reasoning, though I -remember I then had a dawning of suspicion that it was not sound -doctrine; and at the same time I was unwilling obstinately to refuse -assent to what I was unable to confute. - -That the young artist may not be seduced from the right path, by -following what, at first view, he may think the light of reason and -which is indeed reason in part, but not in the whole, has been much the -object of these discourses. - -I have taken every opportunity of recommending a rational method of -study, as of the last importance. The great, I may say the sole, use of -an academy is, to put, and for some time to keep, the students in that -course, that too much indulgence may not be given to peculiarity, and -that a young man may not be taught to believe that what is generally -good for others is not good for him. - -I have strongly inculcated in my former discourses, as I do in this my -last, the wisdom and necessity of previously obtaining the appropriated -instruments of the art, in a first correct design and a plain manly -colouring, before anything more is attempted. But by this I would not -wish to cramp and fetter the mind, or discourage those who follow (as -most of us may at one time have followed) the suggestion of a strong -inclination: something must be conceded to great and irresistible -impulses: perhaps every student must not be strictly bound to general -methods, if they strongly thwart the peculiar turn of his own mind. I -must confess that it is not absolutely of much consequence, whether he -proceeds in the general method of seeking first to acquire mechanical -accuracy, before he attempts poetical flights, provided he diligently -studies to attain the full perfection of the style he pursues; whether, -like Parmeggiano, he endeavours at grace and grandeur of manner before -he has learned correctness of drawing, if, like him, he feels his own -wants, and will labour, as that eminent artist did, to supply those -wants; whether he starts from the east or from the west, if he relaxes -in no exertion to arrive ultimately at the same goal. The first public -work of Parmeggiano is the St. Eustachius, in the Church of St. -Petronius in Bologna, and was done when he was a boy; and one of the -last of his works is the Moses breaking the Tables, in Parma. In the -former there is certainly something of grandeur in the outline, or in -the conception of the figure, which discovers the dawnings of future -greatness; of a young mind impregnated with the sublimity of Michael -Angelo, whose style he here attempts to imitate, though he could not -then draw the human figure with any common degree of correctness. But -this same Parmeggiano, when in his more mature age he painted the Moses, -had so completely supplied his first defects, that we are here at a loss -which to admire most, the correctness of drawing, or the grandeur of the -conception. As a confirmation of its great excellence, and of the -impression which it leaves on the minds of elegant spectators, I may -observe, that our great lyric poet, when he conceived his sublime idea -of the indignant Welsh bard, acknowledged, that though many years had -intervened, he had warmed his imagination with the remembrance of this -noble figure of Parmeggiano. - -When we consider that Michael Angelo was the great archetype to whom -Parmeggiano was indebted for that grandeur which we find in his works, -and from whom all his contemporaries and successors have derived -whatever they have possessed of the dignified and the majestic; that he -was the bright luminary, from whom painting has borrowed a new lustre; -that under his hands it assumed a new appearance, and is become another -and superior art; I may be excused if I take this opportunity, as I have -hitherto taken every occasion, to turn your attention to this exalted -founder and father of modern art, of which he was not only the inventor, -but which, by the divine energy of his own mind, he carried at once to -its highest point of possible perfection. - -The sudden maturity to which Michael Angelo brought our art, and the -comparative feebleness of his followers and imitators, might perhaps be -reasonably, at least plausibly explained, if we had time for such an -examination. At present I shall only observe, that the subordinate parts -of our art, and perhaps of other arts, expand themselves by a slow and -progressive growth; but those which depend on a native vigour of -imagination generally burst forth at once in fulness of beauty. Of this -Homer probably, and Shakespeare most assuredly, are signal examples. -Michael Angelo possessed the poetical part of our art in a most eminent -degree: and the same daring spirit, which urged him first to explore the -unknown regions of the imagination, delighted with the novelty, and -animated by the success of his discoveries, could not have failed to -stimulate and impel him forward in his career beyond those limits which -his followers, destitute of the same incentives, had not strength to -pass. - -To distinguish between correctness of drawing, and that part which -respects the imagination, we may say the one approaches to the -mechanical (which in its way too may make just pretensions to genius) -and the other to the poetical. To encourage a solid and vigorous course -of study, it may not be amiss to suggest, that perhaps a confidence in -the mechanic produces a boldness in the poetic. He that is sure of the -goodness of his ship and tackle, puts out fearlessly from the shore; and -he who knows that his hand can execute whatever his fancy can suggest, -sports with more freedom in embodying the visionary forms of his own -creation. I will not say Michael Angelo was eminently poetical, only -because he was greatly mechanical; but I am sure that mechanic -excellence invigorated and emboldened his mind to carry painting into -the regions of poetry, and to emulate that art in its most adventurous -flights. Michael Angelo equally possessed both qualifications. Yet of -mechanic excellence there were certainly great examples to be found in -ancient sculpture, and particularly in the fragment known by the name of -the Torso of Michael Angelo; but of that grandeur of character, air, and -attitude, which he threw into all his figures, and which so well -corresponds with the grandeur of his outline, there was no example; it -could therefore proceed only from the most poetical and sublime -imagination. - -It is impossible not to express some surprise, that the race of painters -who preceded Michael Angelo, men of acknowledged great abilities, should -never have thought of transferring a little of that grandeur of outline -which they could not but see and admire in ancient sculpture, into their -own works; but they appear to have considered sculpture as the later -schools of artists look at the inventions of Michael Angelo,--as -something to be admired, but with which they have nothing to do: _quod -super nos, nihil ad nos_.--The artists of that age, even Raffaelle -himself, seemed to be going on very contentedly in the dry manner of -Pietro Perugino; and if Michael Angelo had never appeared, the art might -still have continued in the same style. - -Besides Rome and Florence, where the grandeur of this style was first -displayed, it was on this foundation that the Caracci built the truly -great academical Bolognian school, of which the first stone was laid by -Pellegrino Tibaldi. He first introduced this style amongst them; and -many instances might be given in which he appears to have possessed, as -by inheritance, the true, genuine, noble, and elevated mind of Michael -Angelo. Though we cannot venture to speak of him with the same fondness -as his countrymen, and call him, as the Caracci did, _Nostro Michael -Angelo riformato_, yet he has a right to be considered amongst the first -and greatest of his followers: there are certainly many drawings and -inventions of his, of which Michael Angelo himself might not disdain to -be supposed the author, or that they should be, as in fact they often -are, mistaken for his. I will mention one particular instance, because -it is found in a book which is in every young artist’s hands--Bishop’s -_Ancient Statues_. He there has introduced a print, representing -Polyphemus, from a drawing of Tibaldi, and has inscribed it with the -name of Michael Angelo, to whom he has also in the same book attributed -a Sibyl of Raffaelle. Both these figures, it is true, are professedly in -Michael Angelo’s style and spirit, and even worthy of his hand. But we -know that the former is painted in the _Institute a Bologna_ by Tibaldi, -and the other in the _Pace_ by Raffaelle. - -The Caracci, it is acknowledged, adopted the mechanical part with -sufficient success. But the divine part which addresses itself to the -imagination, as possessed by Michael Angelo or Tibaldi, was beyond their -grasp: they formed, however, a most respectable school, a style more on -the level, and calculated to please a greater number; and if excellence -of this kind is to be valued according to the number rather than the -weight and quality of admirers, it would assume even a higher rank in -art. The same, in some sort, may be said of Tintoret, Paolo Veronese, -and others of the Venetian painters. They certainly much advanced the -dignity of their style by adding to their fascinating powers of -colouring something of the strength of Michael Angelo; at the same time -it may still be a doubt, how far their ornamental elegance would be an -advantageous addition to his grandeur. But if there is any manner of -painting which may be said to unite kindly with his style, it is that of -Titian. His handling, the manner in which his colours are left on the -canvas, appears to proceed (as far as that goes) from a congenial mind, -equally disdainful of vulgar criticism. - -Michael Angelo’s strength thus qualified, and made more palatable to -the general taste, reminds me of an observation which I heard a learned -critic[26] make, when it was incidentally remarked that our translation -of Homer, however excellent, did not convey the character, nor had the -grand air of the original. He replied that if Pope had not clothed the -naked majesty of Homer with the graces and elegances of modern -fashions--though the real dignity of Homer was degraded by such a -dress--his translation would not have met with such a favourable -reception, and he must have been contented with fewer readers. - -Many of the Flemish painters, who studied at Rome in that great era of -our art, such as Francis Floris, Hemskerk, Michael Coxis, Jerom Cock, -and others, returned to their own country with as much of this grandeur -as they could carry. But, like seeds falling on a soil not prepared or -adapted to their nature, the manner of Michael Angelo thrived but little -with them; perhaps, however, they contributed to prepare the way for -that free, unconstrained, and liberal outline, which was afterwards -introduced by Rubens, through the medium of the Venetian painters. - -This grandeur of style has been in different degrees disseminated over -all Europe. Some caught it by living at the time, and coming into -contact with the original author, whilst others received it at second -hand; and being everywhere adopted, it has totally changed the whole -taste and style of design, if there could be said to be any style before -his time. Our art, in consequence, now assumes a rank to which it could -never have dared to aspire, if Michael Angelo had not discovered to the -world the hidden powers which it possessed. Without his assistance we -never could have been convinced that painting was capable of producing -an adequate representation of the persons and actions of the heroes of -the Iliad. - -I would ask any man qualified to judge of such works, whether he can -look with indifference at the personification of the Supreme Being in -the centre of the Capella Sestina, or the figures of the Sibyls which -surround that chapel, to which we may add the statue of Moses; and -whether the same sensations are not excited by those works, as what he -may remember to have felt from the most sublime passages of Homer? I -mention those figures more particularly, as they come nearer to a -comparison with his Jupiter, his demi-gods, and heroes; those Sibyls and -prophets being a kind of intermediate beings between men and angels. -Though instances may be produced in the works of other painters, which -may justly stand in competition with those I have mentioned, such as the -Isaiah and the vision of Ezekiel, by Raffaelle, the St. Mark of Frate -Bartolommeo, and many others; yet these, it must be allowed, are -inventions so much in Michael Angelo’s manner of thinking, that they may -be truly considered as so many rays, which discover manifestly the -centre from whence they emanated. - -The sublime in painting, as in poetry, so overpowers, and takes such a -possession of the whole mind, that no room is left for attention to -minute criticism. The little elegances of art, in the presence of these -great ideas thus greatly expressed, lose all their value, and are, for -the instant at least, felt to be unworthy of our notice. The correct -judgment, the purity of taste, which characterise Raffaelle, the -exquisite grace of Correggio and Parmeggiano, all disappear before them. - -That Michael Angelo was capricious in his inventions cannot be denied; -and this may make some circumspection necessary in studying his works; -for though they appear to become him, an imitation of them is always -dangerous, and will prove sometimes ridiculous. “Within that circle none -durst walk but he.” To me, I confess, his caprice does not lower the -estimation of his genius, even though it is sometimes, I acknowledge, -carried to the extreme: and however those eccentric excursions are -considered, we must at the same time recollect, that those faults, if -they are faults, are such as never could occur to a mean and vulgar -mind: that they flowed from the same source which produced his greatest -beauties, and were therefore such as none but himself was capable of -committing: they were the powerful impulses of a mind unused to -subjection of any kind, and too high to be controlled by cold criticism. - -Many see his daring extravagance who can see nothing else. A young -artist finds the works of Michael Angelo so totally different from those -of his own master, or of those with whom he is surrounded, that he may -be easily persuaded to abandon and neglect studying a style which -appears to him wild, mysterious, and above his comprehension, and which -he therefore feels no disposition to admire; a good disposition, which -he concludes that he should naturally have, if the style deserved it. It -is necessary therefore that students should be prepared for the -disappointment which they may experience at their first setting out; and -they must be cautioned, that probably they will not, at first sight, -approve. - -It must be remembered that this great style itself is artificial in the -highest degree; it presupposes in the spectator a cultivated and -prepared artificial state of mind. It is an absurdity therefore to -suppose that we are born with this taste, though we are with the seeds -of it, which, by the heat and kindly influence of his genius, may be -ripened in us. - -A late philosopher and critic[27] has observed, speaking of taste, that -_we are on no account to expect that fine things should descend to -us_--our taste, if possible, must be made to ascend to them. The same -learned writer recommends to us _even to feign a relish, till we find a -relish come; and feel, that what began in fiction, terminates in -reality_. If there be in our art anything of that agreement or compact, -such as I apprehend there is in music, with which the critic is -necessarily required previously to be acquainted, in order to form a -correct judgment: the comparison with this art will illustrate what I -have said on these points, and tend to show the probability, we may say -the certainty, that men are not born with a relish for those arts in -their most refined state, which as they cannot understand, they cannot -be impressed with their effects. This great style of Michael Angelo is -as far removed from the simple representation of the common objects of -nature, as the most refined Italian music is from the inartificial notes -of nature, from whence they both profess to originate. But without such -a supposed compact, we may be very confident that the highest state of -refinement in either of those arts will not be relished without a long -and industrious attention. - -In pursuing this great art, it must be acknowledged that we labour under -greater difficulties than those who were born in the age of its -discovery, and whose minds from their infancy were habituated to this -style; who learned it as language, as their mother tongue. They had no -mean taste to unlearn; they needed no persuasive discourse to allure -them to a favourable reception of it, no abstruse investigation of its -principles to convince them of the great latent truths on which it is -founded. We are constrained, in these latter days, to have recourse to a -sort of grammar and dictionary, as the only means of recovering a dead -language. It was by them learned by rote, and perhaps better learned -that way than by precept. - -The style of Michael Angelo, which I have compared to language, and -which may, poetically speaking, be called the language of the gods, now -no longer exists, as it did in the fifteenth century; yet, with the aid -of diligence, we may in a great measure supply the deficiency which I -mentioned--of not having his works so perpetually before our eyes--by -having recourse to casts from his models and designs in sculpture; to -drawings or even copies of those drawings; to prints, which, however ill -executed, still convey something by which this taste may be formed, and -a relish may be fixed and established in our minds for this grand style -of invention. Some examples of this kind we have in the Academy; and I -sincerely wish there were more, that the younger students might in their -first nourishment imbibe this taste; whilst others, though settled in -the practice of the commonplace style of painters, might infuse, by this -means, a grandeur into their works. - -I shall now make some remarks on the course which I think most proper to -be pursued in such a study. I wish you not to go so much to the -derivative streams, as to the fountain-head; though the copies are not -to be neglected; because they may give you hints in what manner you may -copy, and how the genius of one man may be made to fit the peculiar -manner of another. - -To recover this lost taste, I would recommend young artists to study the -works of Michael Angelo, as he himself did the works of the ancient -sculptors; he began, when a child, a copy of a mutilated Satyr’s head, -and finished in his model what was wanting in the original. In the same -manner, the first exercise that I would recommend to the young artist -when he first attempts invention is to select every figure, if possible, -from the inventions of Michael Angelo. If such borrowed figures will not -bend to his purpose, and he is constrained to make a change to supply a -figure himself, that figure will necessarily be in the same style with -the rest; and his taste will by this means be naturally initiated, and -nursed in the lap of grandeur. He will sooner perceive what constitutes -this grand style by one practical trial than by a thousand speculations, -and he will in some sort procure to himself that advantage which in -these later ages has been denied him, the advantage of having the -greatest of artists for his master and instructor. - -The next lesson should be, to change the purpose of the figures without -changing the attitude, as Tintoret has done with the Samson of Michael -Angelo. Instead of the figure which Samson bestrides, he has placed an -eagle under him; and instead of the jaw-bone, thunder and lightning in -his right hand; and thus it becomes a Jupiter. Titian, in the same -manner, has taken the figure which represents God dividing the light -from the darkness in the vault of the Capella Sestina, and has -introduced it in the famous Battle of Cadore, so much celebrated by -Vasari; and, extraordinary as it may seem, it is here converted to a -general falling from his horse. A real judge who should look at this -picture would immediately pronounce the attitude of that figure to be in -a greater style than any other figure of the composition. These two -instances may be sufficient, though many more might be given in their -works, as well as in those of other great artists. - -When the student has been habituated to this grand conception of the -art, when the relish for this style is established, makes a part of -himself, and is woven into his mind, he will, by this time, have got a -power of selecting from whatever occurs in nature that is grand, and -corresponds with that taste which he has now acquired; and will pass -over whatever is commonplace and insipid. He may then bring to the mart -such works of his own proper invention as may enrich and increase the -general stock of invention in our art. - -I am confident of the truth and propriety of the advice which I have -recommended; at the same time I am aware, how much by this advice I have -laid myself open to the sarcasms of those critics who imagine our art to -be a matter of inspiration. But I should be sorry it should appear even -to myself that I wanted that courage which I have recommended to the -students in another way: equal courage perhaps is required in the -adviser and the advised; they both must equally dare and bid defiance to -narrow criticism and vulgar opinion. - -That the art has been in a gradual state of decline, from the age of -Michael Angelo to the present, must be acknowledged; and we may -reasonably impute this declension to the same cause to which the ancient -critics and philosophers have imputed the corruption of eloquence. -Indeed the same causes are likely at all times and in all ages to -produce the same effects: indolence,--not taking the same pains as our -great predecessors took,--desiring to find a shorter way,--are the -general imputed causes. The words of Petronius[28] are very remarkable. -After opposing the natural chaste beauty of the eloquence of former ages -to the strained inflated style then in fashion, “Neither,” says he, “has -the art in painting had a better fate, after the boldness of the -Egyptians had found out a compendious way to execute so great an art.” - -By _compendious_, I understand him to mean a mode of painting, such as -has infected the style of the later painters of Italy and France; -commonplace, without thought, and with as little trouble, working as by -a receipt; in contradistinction to that style for which even a relish -cannot be acquired without care and long attention, and most certainly -the power of executing cannot be obtained without the most laborious -application. - -I have endeavoured to stimulate the ambition of artists to tread in this -great path of glory, and, as well as I can, have pointed out the track -which leads to it, and have at the same time told them the price at -which it may be obtained. It is an ancient saying that labour is the -price which the gods have set upon everything valuable. - -The great artist who has been so much the subject of the present -discourse was distinguished even from his infancy for his indefatigable -diligence; and this was continued through his whole life, till prevented -by extreme old age. The poorest of men, as he observed himself, did not -labour from necessity, more than he did from choice. Indeed, from all -the circumstances related of his life, he appears not to have had the -least conception that his art was to be acquired by any other means than -great labour; and yet he, of all men that ever lived, might make the -greatest pretensions to the efficacy of native genius and inspiration. I -have no doubt that he would have thought it no disgrace, that it should -be said of him, as he himself said of Raffaelle, that he did not possess -his art from nature, but by long study.[29] He was conscious that the -great excellence to which he arrived was gained by dint of labour, and -was unwilling to have it thought that any transcendent skill, however -natural its effects might seem, could be purchased at a cheaper price -than he had paid for it. This seems to have been the true drift of his -observation. We cannot suppose it made with any intention of -depreciating the genius of Raffaelle, of whom he always spoke, as -Condivi says, with the greatest respect: though they were rivals, no -such illiberality existed between them; and Raffaelle on his part -entertained the greatest veneration for Michael Angelo, as appears from -the speech which is recorded of him, that he congratulated himself, and -thanked God, that he was born in the same age with that painter. - -If the high esteem and veneration, in which Michael Angelo has been held -by all nations and in all ages, should be put to the account of -prejudice, it must still be granted that those prejudices could not have -been entertained without a cause: the ground of our prejudice then -becomes the source of our admiration. But from whatever it proceeds, or -whatever it is called, it will not, I hope, be thought presumptuous in -me to appear in the train, I cannot say of his imitators, but of his -admirers. I have taken another course, one more suited to my abilities, -and to the taste of the times in which I live. Yet however unequal I -feel myself to that attempt, were I now to begin the world again, I -would tread in the steps of that great master: to kiss the hem of his -garment, to catch the slightest of his perfections, would be glory and -distinction enough for an ambitious man. - -I feel a self-congratulation in knowing myself capable of such -sensations as he intended to excite. I reflect, not without vanity, that -these discourses bear testimony of my admiration of that truly divine -man; and I should desire that the last words which I should pronounce in -this Academy, and from this place, might be the name of--Michael -Angelo.[30] - - THE END OF THE DISCOURSES. - - PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, - BUNGAY, SUFFOLK. - - * * * * * - - EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY - - Edited by ERNEST RHYS - - LIST OF THE FIRST 806 VOLUMES ARRANGED UNDER AUTHORS - - _Per Volume: Cloth, 2s. Net_ - _Library Binding, 3s. Net. Paste Grain Leather, 3s. 6d. Net_ - - _REFERENCE SECTION_ - - _Cloth, 2s. 6d. Net. Library Binding, 3s. 6d. Net_ - _Average Postage per Volume, 4d._ - - - Abbott’s Rollo at Work, etc., 275 - - Addison’s Spectator, 164-167 - - Æschylus’ Lyrical Dramas, 62 - - Æsop’s and Other Fables, 657 - - Aimard’s The Indian Scout, 428 - - Ainsworth’s Tower of London, 400 - “ Old St. Paul’s, 522 - “ Windsor Castle, 709 - “ The Admirable Crichton, 804 - - A’Kempis’ Imitation of Christ, 484 - - Alcott’s Little Women, and Good Wives, 248 - “ Little Men, 512 - - Alpine Club. Peaks, Passes and Glaciers, 778 - - Andersen’s Fairy Tales, 4 - - Anglo-Saxon Poetry, 794 - - Anson’s Voyages, 510 - - Aristophanes’ The Acharnians, etc., 344 - “ The Frogs, etc., 516 - - Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, 547 - “ Politics, 605 - - Arnold’s (Matthew) Essays, 115 - “ Poems, 334 - “ Study of Celtic Literature, etc., 458 - - Augustine’s (Saint) Confessions, 200 - - Aurelius’ (Marcus) Golden Book, 9 - - Austen’s (Jane) Sense and Sensibility, 21 - “ Pride and Prejudice, 22 - “ Mansfield Park, 23 - “ Emma, 24 - “ Northanger Abbey, and Persuasion, 25 - - - Bacon’s Essays, 10 - “ Advancement of Learning, 719 - - Bagehot’s Literary Studies, 520, 521 - - Baker’s (Sir S. W.) Cast up by the Sea, 539 - - Ballantyne’s Coral Island, 245 - “ Martin Rattler, 246 - “ Ungava, 276 - - Balzac’s Wild Ass’s Skin, 26 - “ Eugénie Grandet, 169 - “ Old Goriot, 170 - “ Atheist’s Mass, etc., 229 - “ Christ in Flanders, etc., 284 - “ The Chouans, 285 - “ Quest of the Absolute, 286 - “ Cat and Racket, etc., 349 - “ Catherine de Medici, 419 - “ Cousin Pons, 463 - “ The Country Doctor, 530 - “ Rise and Fall of César Birotteau, 596 - “ Lost Illusions, 656 - “ The Country Parson, 686 - “ Ursule Mirouët, 733 - - Barbusse’s Under Fire, 798 - - Barca’s (Mme. C. de la) Life in Mexico, 664 - - Bates’ Naturalist on the Amazons, 446 - - Beaumont and Fletcher’s Select Plays, 506 - - Beaumont’s (Mary) Joan Seaton, 597 - - Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, etc., 479 - - Belt’s The Naturalist in Nicaragua, 561 - - Berkeley’s (Bishop) Principles of Human Knowledge, New - Theory of Vision, etc., 483 - - Berlioz (Hector), Life of, 602 - - Binns’ Life of Abraham Lincoln, 783 - - Björnson’s Plays, 625, 696 - - Blackmore’s Lorna Doone, 304 - “ Springhaven, 350 - - Blackwell’s Pioneer Work for Women, 667 - - Blake’s Poems and Prophecies, 792 - - Boehme’s The Signature of All Things, etc., 569 - - Bonaventura’s The Little Flowers, The Life of St. Francis, etc., 485 - - Borrow’s Wild Wales, 49 - “ Lavengro, 119 - “ Romany Rye, 120 - “ Bible in Spain, 151 - “ Gypsies in Spain, 697 - - Boswell’s Life of Johnson, 1, 2 - “ Tour in the Hebrides, etc., 387 - - Boult’s Asgard and Norse Heroes, 689 - - Boyle’s The Sceptical Chymist, 559 - - Bright’s (John) Speeches, 252 - - Brontë’s (A.) The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, 685 - - Brontë’s (C.) Jane Eyre, 287 - “ Shirley, 288 - “ Villette, 351 - “ The Professor, 417 - - Brontë’s (E.) Wuthering Heights, 243 - - Brooke’s (Stopford A.) Theology in the English Poets, 493 - - Brown’s (Dr. John) Rab and His Friends, etc., 116 - - Browne’s (Frances) Grannie’s Wonderful Chair, 112 - - Browne’s (Sir Thos.) Religio Medici, etc., 92 - - Browning’s Poems, 1833-1844, 41 - “ “ 1844-1864, 42 - “ The Ring and the Book, 502 - - Buchanan’s Life and Adventures of Audubon, 601 - - Bulfinch’s The Age of Fable, 472 - “ Legends of Charlemagne, 556 - - Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, 204 - - Burke’s American Speeches and Letters, 340 - “ Reflections on the French Revolution, etc., 460 - - Burnet’s History of His Own Times, 85 - - Burney’s Evelina, 352 - - Burns’ Poems and Songs, 94 - - Burrell’s Volume of Heroic Verse, 574 - - Burton’s East Africa, 500 - - Butler’s Analogy of Religion, 90 - - Buxton’s Memoirs, 773 - - Byron’s Complete Poetical and Dramatic Works, 486-488 - - - Cæsar’s Gallic War, etc., 702 - - Canton’s Child’s Book of Saints, 61 - - Canton’s Invisible Playmate, etc., 566 - - Carlyle’s French Revolution, 31, 32 - “ Letters, etc., of Cromwell, 266-268 - “ Sartor Resartus, 278 - “ Past and Present, 608 - “ Essays, 703, 704 - - Cellini’s Autobiography, 51 - - Cervantes’ Don Quixote, 385, 386 - - Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, 307 - - Chrétien de Troyes’ Eric and Enid, 698 - - Cibber’s Apology for his Life, 668 - - Cicero’s Select Letters and Orations, 345 - - Clarke’s Tales from Chaucer, 537 - “ Shakespeare’s Heroines, 109-111 - - Cobbett’s Rural Rides, 638, 639 - - Coleridge’s Biographia, 11 - “ Golden Book, 43 - “ Lectures on Shakespeare, 162 - - Collins’ Woman in White, 464 - - Collodi’s Pinocchio, 538 - - Converse’s Long Will, 328 - - Cook’s Voyages, 99 - - Cooper’s The Deerslayer, 77 - “ The Pathfinder, 78 - “ Last of the Mohicans, 79 - “ The Pioneer, 171 - “ The Prairie, 172 - - Cousin’s Biographical Dictionary of English Literature, 449 - - Cowper’s Letters, 774 - - Cox’s Tales of Ancient Greece, 721 - - Craik’s Manual of English Literature, 346 - - Craik (Mrs.). _See_ Mulock. - - Creasy’s Fifteen Decisive Battles, 300 - - Crèvecœur’s Letters from an American Farmer, 640 - - Curtis’s Prue and I, and Lotus, 418 - - - Dana’s Two Years Before the Mast, 588 - - Dante’s Divine Comedy, 308 - - Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle, 104 - - Dasent’s The Story of Burnt Njal, 558 - - Daudet’s Tartarin of Tarascon, 423 - - Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, 59 - “ Captain Singleton, 74 - “ Memoirs of a Cavalier, 283 - “ Journal of Plague, 289 - - De Joinville’s Memoirs of the Crusades, 333 - - Demosthenes’ Select Orations, 546 - - Dennis’ Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, 183, 184 - - De Quincey’s Lake Poets, 163 - “ Opium-Eater, 223 - “ English Mail Coach, etc., 609 - - De Retz (Cardinal), Memoirs of, 735, 736 - - Descartes’ Discourse on Method, 570 - - Dickens’ Barnaby Rudge, 76 - “ Tale of Two Cities, 102 - “ Old Curiosity Shop, 173 - “ Oliver Twist, 233 - “ Great Expectations, 234 - “ Pickwick Papers, 235 - “ Bleak House, 236 - “ Sketches by Boz, 237 - “ Nicholas Nickleby, 238 - “ Christmas Books, 239 - “ Dombey & Son, 240 - “ Martin Chuzzlewit, 241 - “ David Copperfield, 242 - “ American Notes, 290 - “ Child’s History of England, 291 - “ Hard Times, 292 - “ Little Dorrit, 293 - “ Our Mutual Friend, 294 - “ Christmas Stories, 414 - “ Uncommercial Traveller, 536 - “ Edwin Drood, 725 - “ Reprinted Pieces, 744 - - Disraeli’s Coningsby, 535 - - Dixon’s Fairy Tales from Arabian Nights, 249 - - Dodge’s Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates, 620 - - Dostoieffsky’s Crime and Punishment, 501 - “ The House of the Dead, or Prison Life in Siberia, 533 - “ Letters from the Underworld, etc., 654 - “ The Idiot, 682 - “ Poor Folk, and The Gambler, 711 - “ The Brothers Karamazov, 802, 803 - - Dowden’s Life of R. Browning, 701 - - Dryden’s Dramatic Essays, 568 - - Dufferin’s Letters from High Latitudes, 499 - - Dumas’ The Three Musketeers, 81 - “ The Black Tulip, 174 - “ Twenty Years After, 175 - “ Marguerite de Valois, 326 - “ The Count of Monte Cristo, 393, 394 - “ The Forty-Five, 420 - “ Chicot the Jester, 421 - “ Vicomte de Bragelonne, 593-595 - “ Le Chevalier de Maison Rouge, 614 - - Duruy’s History of France, 737, 738 - - - Edgar’s Cressy and Poictiers, 17 - “ Runnymede and Lincoln Fair, 320 - “ Heroes of England, 471 - - Edgeworth’s Castle Rackrent, etc., 410 - - Edwardes’ Dictionary of Non-Classical Mythology, 632 - - Eliot’s Adam Bede, 27 - “ Silas Marner, 121 - “ Romola, 231 - “ Mill on the Floss, 325 - “ Felix Holt, 353 - “ Scenes of Clerical Life, 468 - - Elyot’s Gouernour, 227 - - Emerson’s Essays, 12 - “ Representative Men, 279 - “ Nature, Conduct of Life, etc., 322 - “ Society and Solitude, etc., 567 - “ Poems, 715 - - Epictetus’ Moral Discourses, etc., 404 - - Erckmann-Chatrian’s The Conscript and Waterloo, 354 - “ Story of a Peasant, 706, 707 - - Euripides’ Plays, 63, 271 - - Evelyn’s Diary, 220, 221 - - Ewing’s (Mrs.) Mrs. Overtheway’s Remembrances, and other Stories, 730 - “ Jackanapes, Daddy Darwin’s Dovecot, and The Story - of a Short Life, 731 - - Faraday’s Experimental Researches in Electricity, 576 - - Fielding’s Tom Jones, 355, 356 - “ Joseph Andrews, 467 - - Finlay’s Byzantine Empire, 33 - “ Greece under the Romans, 185 - - Fletcher’s (Beaumont and) Select Plays, 506 - - Ford’s Gatherings from Spain, 152 - - Forster’s Life of Dickens, 781, 782 - - Fox’s Journal, 754 - - Fox’s Selected Speeches, 759 - - Franklin’s Journey to Polar Sea, 447 - - Freeman’s Old English History for Children, 540 - - Froissart’s Chronicles, 57 - - Froude’s Short Studies, 13, 705 - “ Henry VIII., 372-374 - “ Edward VI., 375 - “ Mary Tudor, 477 - “ History of Queen Elizabeth’s Reign, 583-587 - “ Life of Benjamin Disraeli, Lord Beaconsfield, 666 - - - Galt’s Annals of the Parish, 427 - - Galton’s Inquiries into Human Faculty, 263 - - Gaskell’s Cranford, 83 - “ Charlotte Brontë, 318 - “ Sylvia’s Lovers, 524 - “ Mary Barton, 598 - “ Cousin Phillis, etc., 615 - “ North and South, 680 - - Gatty’s Parables from Nature, 158 - - Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Histories of the Kings of Britain, 577 - - George’s Progress and Poverty, 560 - - Gibbon’s Roman Empire, 434-436, 474-476 - “ Autobiography, 511 - - Gilfillan’s Literary Portraits, 348 - - Giraldus Cambrensis, 272 - - Gleig’s Life of Wellington, 341 - “ The Subaltern, 708 - - Goethe’s Faust (Parts I. and II.), 335 - “ Wilhelm Meister, 599, 600 - - Gogol’s Dead Souls, 726 - “ Taras Bulba, 740 - - Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield, 295 - “ Poems and Plays, 415 - - Gorki’s Through Russia, 741 - - Gosse’s Restoration Plays, 604 - - Gotthelf’s Ulric the Farm Servant, 228 - - Gray’s Poems and Letters, 628 - - Green’s Short History of the English People, 727, 728 - The cloth edition is in 2 vols. or 1 vol. - All other editions are in 1 vol. - - Grimms’ Fairy Tales, 56 - - Grote’s History of Greece, 186-197 - - Guest’s (Lady) Mabinogion, 97 - - - Hahnemann’s The Organon of the Rational Art of Healing, 663 - - Hakluyt’s Voyages, 264, 265, 313, 314, 338, 339, 388, 389 - - Hallam’s Constitutional History, 621-623 - - Hamilton’s The Federalist, 519 - - Harte’s Luck of Roaring Camp, 681 - - Harvey’s Circulation of Blood, 262 - - Hawthorne’s Wonder Book, 5 - “ The Scarlet Letter, 122 - “ House of Seven Gables, 176 - “ The Marble Faun, 424 - “ Twice Told Tales, 531 - “ Blithedale Romance, 592 - - Hazlitt’s Shakespeare’s Characters, 65 - “ Table Talk, 321 - “ Lectures, 411 - “ Spirit of the Age and Lectures on English Poets, 459 - - Hebbel’s Plays, 694 - - Helps’ (Sir Arthur) Life of Columbus, 332 - - Herbert’s Temple, 309 - - Herodotus (Rawlinson’s), 405, 406 - - Herrick’s Hesperides, 310 - - Hobbes’ Leviathan, 691 - - Holinshed’s Chronicle, 800 - - Holmes’ Life of Mozart, 564 - - Holmes’ (O. W.) Autocrat, 66 - “ Professor, 67 - “ Poet, 68 - - Homer’s Iliad, 453 - “ Odyssey, 454 - - Hooker’s Ecclesiastical Polity, 201, 202 - - Horace’s Complete Poetical Works, 515 - - Houghton’s Life and Letters of Keats, 801 - - Hughes’ Tom Brown’s Schooldays, 58 - - Hugo’s (Victor) Les Misérables, 363, 364 - “ Notre Dame, 422 - “ Toilers of the Sea, 509 - - Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature, etc., 548, 549 - - Hutchinson’s (Col.) Memoirs, 317 - - Hutchinson’s (W. M. L.) Muses’ Pageant, 581, 606, 671 - - Huxley’s Man’s Place in Nature, 47 - “ Select Lectures and Lay Sermons, 498 - - - Ibsen’s The Doll’s House, etc., 494 - “ Ghosts, etc., 552 - “ Pretenders, Pillars of Society, etc., 659 - “ Brand, 716 - “ Lady Inger, etc., 729 - “ Peer Gynt, 747 - - Ingelow’s Mopsa the Fairy, 619 - - Ingram’s Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 624 - - Irving’s Sketch Book, 117 - “ Conquest of Granada, 478 - “ Life of Mahomet, 513 - - - James’ (G. P. R.) Richelieu, 357 - - James (Wm.), Selections from, 739 - - Johnson’s (Dr.) Lives of the Poets, 770-771 - - Johnson’s (R. B.) Book of English Ballads, 572 - - Jonson’s (Ben) Plays, 489, 490 - - Josephus’ Wars of the Jews, 712 - - - Kalidasa’s Shakuntala, 629 - - Keats’ Poems, 101 - - Keble’s Christian Year, 690 - - King’s Life of Mazzini, 562 - - Kinglake’s Eothen, 337 - - Kingsley’s (Chas.) Westward Ho! 20 - “ Heroes, 113 - “ Hypatia, 230 - “ Water Babies and Glaucus, 277 - “ Hereward the Wake, 296 - “ Alton Locke, 462 - “ Yeast, 611 - “ Madam How and Lady Why, 777 - “ Poems, 793 - - Kingsley’s (Henry) Ravenshoe, 28 - “ Geoffrey Hamlyn, 416 - - Kingston’s Peter the Whaler, 6 - “ Three Midshipmen, 7 - - - Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare, 8 - “ Essays of Elia, 14 - “ Letters, 342, 343 - - Lane’s Modern Egyptians, 315 - - Langland’s Piers Plowman, 571 - - Latimer’s Sermons, 40 - - Law’s Serious Call, 91 - - Layamon’s (Wace and) Arthurian Chronicles, 578 - - Lear (and others), A Book of Nonsense, 806 - - Le Sage’s Gil Blas, 437, 438 - - Leslie’s Memoirs of John Constable, 563 - - Lever’s Harry Lorrequer, 177 - - Lewes’ Life of Goethe, 269 - - Lincoln’s Speeches, etc., 206 - - Livy’s History of Rome, 603, 669, 670, 749, 755, 756 - - Locke’s Civil Government, 751 - - Lockhart’s Life of Napoleon, 3 - “ Life of Scott, 55 - “ Burns, 156 - - Longfellow’s Poems, 382 - - Lönnrott’s Kalevala, 259, 260 - - Lover’s Handy Andy, 178 - - Lowell’s Among My Books, 607 - - Lucretius: Of the Nature of Things, 750 - - Lützow’s History of Bohemia, 432 - - Lyell’s Antiquity of Man, 700 - - Lytton’s Harold, 15 - “ Last of the Barons, 18 - “ Last Days of Pompeii, 80 - “ Pilgrims of the Rhine, 390 - “ Rienzi, 532 - - - Macaulay’s England, 34-36 - “ Essays, 225, 226 - “ Speeches on Politics, etc., 399 - “ Miscellaneous Essays, 439 - - MacDonald’s Sir Gibbie, 678 - “ Phantastes, 732 - - Machiavelli’s Prince, 280 - “ Florence, 376 - - Maine’s Ancient Law, 734 - - Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur, 45, 46 - - Malthus on the Principles of Population, 692, 693 - - Manning’s Sir Thomas More, 19 - “ Mary Powell, and Deborah’s Diary, 324 - - Marcus Aurelius’ Golden Book, 9 - - Marlowe’s Plays and Poems, 383 - - Marryat’s Mr. Midshipman Easy, 82 - “ Little Savage, 159 - “ Masterman Ready, 160 - “ Peter Simple, 232 - “ Children of New Forest, 247 - “ Percival Keene, 358 - “ Settlers in Canada, 370 - “ King’s Own, 580 - - Marryat’s Jacob Faithful, 618 - - Martineau’s Feats on the Fjords, 429 - - Martinengo-Cesaresco’s Folk-Lore and Other Essays, 673 - - Maurice’s Kingdom of Christ, 146, 147 - - Mazzini’s Duties of Man, etc., 224 - - Melville’s Moby Dick, 178 - “ Typee, 180 - “ Omoo, 297 - - Merivale’s History of Rome, 433 - - Mignet’s French Revolution, 713 - - Mill’s Utilitarianism, Liberty, Representative Government, 482 - - Miller’s Old Red Sandstone, 103 - - Milman’s History of the Jews, 377, 378 - - Milton’s Areopagitica and other Prose Works, 795 - - Milton’s Poems, 384 - - Mommsen’s History of Rome, 542-545 - - Montagu’s (Lady) Letters, 69 - - Montaigne, Florio’s, 440-442 - - More’s Utopia, and Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation, 461 - - Morier’s Hajji Baba, 679 - - Morris’ (Wm.) Early Romances, 261 - “ Life and Death of Jason, 575 - - Motley’s Dutch Republic, 86-88 - - Mulock’s John Halifax, 123 - - - Neale’s Fall of Constantinople, 655 - - Newcastle’s (Margaret, Duchess of) Life of the First Duke of - Newcastle, etc., 722 - - Newman’s Apologia Pro Vita Sua, 636 - “ On the Scope and Nature of University Education, - and a Paper on Christianity and Scientific Investigation, 723 - - - Oliphant’s Salem Chapel, 244 - - Osborne (Dorothy), Letters of, 674 - - Owen’s A New View of Society, etc., 799 - - - Paine’s Rights of Man, 718 - - Palgrave’s Golden Treasury, 96 - - Paltock’s Peter Wilkins, 676 - - Park (Mungo), Travels of, 205 - - Parkman’s Conspiracy of Pontiac, 302, 303 - - Parry’s Letters of Dorothy Osborne, 674 - - Paston’s Letters, 752, 753 - - Paton’s Two Morte D’Arthur Romances, 634 - - Peacock’s Headlong Hall, 327 - - Penn’s The Peace of Europe, Some Fruits of Solitude, etc., 724 - - Pepys’ Diary, 53, 54 - - Percy’s Reliques, 148, 149 - - Pitt’s Orations, 145 - - Plato’s Republic, 64 - “ Dialogues, 456, 457 - - Plutarch’s Lives, 407-409 - “ Moralia, 565 - - Poe’s Tales of Mystery and Imagination, 336 - - Poe’s Poems and Essays, 791 - - Polo’s (Marco) Travels, 306 - - Pope’s Complete Poetical Works, 760 - - Prelude to Poetry, 789 - - Prescott’s Conquest of Peru, 301 - “ Conquest of Mexico, 397, 398 - - Procter’s Legends and Lyrics, 150 - - - Rawlinson’s Herodotus, 405, 406 - - Reade’s The Cloister and the Hearth, 29 - “ Peg Woffington, 299 - - Reid’s (Mayne) Boy Hunters of the Mississippi, 582 - - Reid’s (Mayne) The Boy Slaves, 797 - - Renan’s Life of Jesus, 805 - - Reynolds’ Discourses, 118 - - Rhys’ Fairy Gold, 157 - “ New Golden Treasury, 695 - “ Anthology of British Historical Speeches and Orations, 714 - “ Political Liberty, 745 - “ Golden Treasury of Longer Poems, 746 - - Ricardo’s Principles of Political Economy and Taxation, 590 - - Richardson’s Pamela, 683, 684 - - Roberts’ (Morley) Western Avernus, 762 - - Robertson’s Religion and Life, 37 - “ Christian Doctrine, 38 - “ Bible Subjects, 39 - - Robinson’s (Wade) Sermons, 637 - - Roget’s Thesaurus, 630, 631 - - Rossetti’s (D. G.) Poems, 627 - - Rousseau’s Emile, on Education, 518 - “ Social Contract and Other Essays, 660 - - Ruskin’s Seven Lamps of Architecture, 207 - “ Modern Painters, 208-212 - “ Stones of Venice, 213-215 - “ Unto this Last, etc., 216 - “ Elements of Drawing, etc., 217 - “ Pre-Raphaelitism, etc., 218 - “ Sesame and Lilies, 219 - “ Ethics of the Dust, 282 - “ Crown of Wild Olive, and Cestus of Aglaia, 323 - “ Time and Tide, with other Essays, 450 - “ The Two Boyhoods, 688 - - Russell’s Life of Gladstone, 661 - - Russian Short Stories, 758 - - - Sand’s (George) The Devil’s Pool, and François the Waif, 534 - - Scheffel’s Ekkehard: A Tale of the 10th Century, 529 - - Scott’s (M.) Tom Cringle’s Log, 710 - - Scott’s (Sir W.) Ivanhoe, 16 - “ Fortunes of Nigel, 71 - “ Woodstock, 72 - “ Waverley, 75 - “ The Abbot, 124 - “ Anne of Geierstein, 125 - “ The Antiquary, 126 - “ Highland Widow, and Betrothed, 127 - “ Black Dwarf, Legend of Montrose, 128 - “ Bride of Lammermoor, 129 - “ Castle Dangerous, Surgeon’s Daughter, 130 - “ Robert of Paris, 131 - “ Fair Maid of Perth, 132 - “ Guy Mannering, 133 - “ Heart of Midlothian, 134 - “ Kenilworth, 135 - “ The Monastery, 136 - “ Old Mortality, 137 - “ Peveril of the Peak, 138 - “ The Pirate, 139 - “ Quentin Durward, 140 - “ Redgauntlet, 141 - “ Rob Roy, 142 - “ St. Ronan’s Well, 143 - “ The Talisman, 144 - “ Lives of the Novelists, 331 - “ Poems and Plays, 550, 551 - - Seebohm’s Oxford Reformers, 665 - - Seeley’s Ecce Homo, 305 - - Sewell’s (Anna) Black Beauty, 748 - - Shakespeare’s Comedies, 153 - “ Histories, etc., 154 - “ Tragedies, 155 - - Shelley’s Poetical Works, 257, 258 - - Shelley’s (Mrs.) Frankenstein, 616 - - Sheppard’s Charles Auchester, 505 - - Sheridan’s Plays, 95 - - Sismondi’s Italian Republics, 250 - - Smeaton’s Life of Shakespeare, 514 - - Smith’s A Dictionary of Dates, 554 - - Smith’s Wealth of Nations, 412, 413 - - Smith’s (George) Life of Wm. Carey, 395 - - Smith’s (Sir Wm.) Smaller Classical Dictionary, 495 - - Smollett’s Roderick Random, 790 - - Sophocles, Young’s, 114 - - Southey’s Life of Nelson, 52 - - Speke’s Source of the Nile, 50 - - Spence’s Dictionary of Non-Classical Mythology, 632 - - Spencer’s (Herbert) Essays on Education, 504 - - Spenser’s Faerie Queene, 443, 444 - - Spinoza’s Ethics, etc., 481 - - Spyri’s Heidi, 431 - - Stanley’s Memorials of Canterbury, 89 - “ Eastern Church, 251 - - Steele’s The Spectator, 164-167 - - Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, 617 - - Sterne’s Sentimental Journey and Journal to Eliza, 796 - - Stevenson’s Treasure Island and Kidnapped, 763 - “ Master of Ballantrae and the Black Arrow, 764 - “ Virginibus Puerisque and Familiar Studies of Men and Books, 765 - “ An Inland Voyage, Travels with a Donkey, and Silverado - Squatters, 766 - “ Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Merry Men, etc., 767 - “ Poems, 768 - “ In the South Seas and Island Nights’ Entertainments, 769 - - St. Francis, The Little Flowers of, etc., 485 - - Stopford Brooke’s Theology in the English Poets, 493 - - Stow’s Survey of London, 589 - - Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, 371 - - Strickland’s Queen Elizabeth, 100 - - Swedenborg’s Heaven and Hell, 379 - “ Divine Love and Wisdom, 635 - “ Divine Providence, 658 - - Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, 60 - “ Journal to Stella, 757 - “ Tale of a Tub, etc., 347 - - - Tacitus’ Annals, 273 - “ Agricola and Germania, 274 - - Taylor’s Words and Places, 517 - - Tennyson’s Poems, 44, 626 - - Thackeray’s Esmond, 73 - “ Vanity Fair, 298 - “ Christmas Books, 359 - “ Pendennis, 425, 426 - “ Newcomes, 465, 466 - “ The Virginians, 507, 508 - “ English Humorists, and The Four Georges, 610 - “ Roundabout Papers, 687 - - Thierry’s Norman Conquest, 198, 199 - - Thoreau’s Walden, 281 - - Thucydides’ Peloponnesian War, 455 - - Tolstoy’s Master and Man, and Other Parables and Tales, 469 - “ War and Peace, 525-527 - “ Childhood, Boyhood and Youth, 591 - “ Anna Karenina, 612, 613 - - Trench’s On the Study of Words and English Past and Present, 788 - - Trollope’s Barchester Towers, 30 - “ Framley Parsonage, 181 - “ Golden Lion of Granpere, 761 - “ The Warden, 182 - “ Dr. Thorne, 360 - “ Small House at Allington, 361 - “ Last Chronicles of Barset, 391, 392 - - Trotter’s The Bayard of India, 396 - “ Hodson, of Hodson’s Horse, 401 - “ Warren Hastings, 452 - - Turgeniev’s Virgin Soil, 528 - “ Liza, 677 - “ Fathers and Sons, 742 - - Tyndall’s Glaciers of the Alps, 98 - - Tytler’s Principles of Translation, 168 - - - Vasari’s Lives of the Painters, 784-7 - - Verne’s (Jules) Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, 319 - “ Dropped from the Clouds, 367 - “ Abandoned, 368 - “ The Secret of the Island, 369 - “ Five Weeks in a Balloon and Around the World in Eighty Days, 779 - - Virgil’s Æneid, 161 - “ Eclogues and Georgics, 222 - - Voltaire’s Life of Charles XII., 270 - “ Age of Louis XIV., 780 - - - Wace and Layamon’s Arthurian Chronicles, 578 - - Walpole’s Letters, 775 - - Walton’s Compleat Angler, 70 - - Waterton’s Wanderings in South America, 772 - - Wesley’s Journal, 105-108 - - White’s Selborne, 48 - - Whitman’s Leaves of Grass (I.) and Democratic Vistas, etc., 573 - - Whyte-Melville’s Gladiators, 523 - - Wood’s (Mrs. Henry) The Channings, 84 - - Woolman’s Journal, etc., 402 - - Wordsworth’s Shorter Poems, 203 - “ Longer Poems, 311 - - Wright’s An Encyclopædia of Gardening, 555 - - - Xenophon’s Cyropædia, 672 - - - Yonge’s The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest, 329 - “ The Book of Golden Deeds, 330 - “ The Heir of Redclyffe, 362 - “ The Little Duke, 470 - “ The Lances of Lynwood, 579 - - Young’s (Arthur) Travels in France and Italy, 720 - - Young’s (Sir George) Sophocles, 114 - - - The New Testament, 93. - - Ancient Hebrew Literature, 4 vols., 253-256. - - English Short Stories. An Anthology, 743. - - Everyman’s English Dictionary, 776 - - NOTE.--The following numbers are at present out of print: - - 110, 111, 118, 146, 324, 331, 348, 390, 505, 529, 581, 597, 641-52 - - PUBLISHED BY J. M. DENT & SONS LTD. - ALDINE HOUSE, BEDFORD STREET, LONDON, W.C.2 - - PRINTED BY THE TEMPLE PRESS AT LETCHWORTH IN GREAT BRITAIN - - -FOOTNOTES: - - [1] Lib. 2. in Timæum Platonis, as cited by Junius de Pictura Veterum. - R. - - [2] Essays, p. 252, edit. 1625. - - [3] “Those,” says Quintilian, “who are taken with the outward show of - things, think that there is more beauty in persons, who are trimmed, - curled, and painted, than uncorrupt nature can give; as if beauty were - merely the effect of the corruption of manners.” R. - - [4] Dicendo, che molto gli piaceva il colorito suo, e la maniera; - mà che era un peccato, che a Venezia non s’imparasse da principio a - disegnare bene, e che non havessano que’ pittori miglior modo nello - studio. Vas. tom. iii. p. 226. Vita di Tiziano. - - [5] Nelle cose della pittura, stravagante, capriccioso, presto, e - resoluto, et il più terrible cervello, che habbia havuto mai la - pittura, come si può vedere in tutte le sue opere; e ne’ componimenti - delle storie, fantastiche, e fatte da lui diversamente, e fuori - dell’ uso degli altri pittori: anzi hà superato la stravaganza, con - le nuove, e capricciose inventioni, e strani ghiribizzi del suo - intelleto, che ha lavorato a caso, e senza disegno, quasi monstrando - che quest’ arte è una baia. - - [6] Que cette application singulière n’était qu’un obstacle pour - empêcher de parvenir au véritable but de la peinture, et celui qui - s’attache au principal, acquiert par la pratique une assez belle - manière de peindre. Conférence de l’Acad. Franç. - - [7] A more detailed character of Rubens may be found in the “Journey - to Flanders and Holland,” near the conclusion. M. - - [8] Sed non qui maxime imitandus, etiam solus imitandus - est.--QUINTILIAN. - - [9] In the Cabinet of the Earl of Ashburnham. - - [10] In the Cabinet of Sir Peter Burrel. - - [11] Dr. Goldsmith. - - [12] Nulla ars, non alterius artis, aut mater, aut propinqua - est.--TERTULL, as cited by JUNIUS. - - [13] Omnes artes quæ ad humanitatem pertinent, habent quoddam commune - vinculum, et quasi cognatione inter se continentur.--CICERO. - - [14] Put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the place whereon thou - standest is holy ground.--EXODUS, iii. 5. - - [15] Discourses II. and VI. - - [16] This was inadvertently said. I did not recollect the admirable - treatise “On the Sublime and Beautiful.” - - [17] Sir William Chambers. - - [18] See “Il reposo di Raffaelle Borghini.” - - [19] Some years after this Discourse was written, Bernini’s “Neptune” - was purchased for our author at Rome, and brought to England. After - his death it was sold by his Executors for £500 to Charles Anderson - Pelham, Esq., now Lord Yarborough. M. - - [20] Discourse III. - - [21] In Ben Jonson’s “Catiline” we find this aphorism, with a slight - variation: - - “A serpent, ere he comes to be a dragon, - Must eat a bat.” M. - - - [22] The addition of _accio_ denotes some deformity or imperfection - attending that person to whom it is applied. R. - - [23] - - Towers and battlements it sees - Bosom’d high in tufted trees.--MILTON, “L’Allegro.” R. - - - [24] Mr. Hodges. - - [25] This fine picture was in our author’s collection; and was - bequeathed by him to Sir George Beaumont, Bart. M. - - [26] Dr. Johnson. - - [27] James Harris, Esq. R. - - [28] Pictura quoque non alium exitum fecit, postquam Ægyptiorum - audacia tam magnæ artis compendiariam invenit. R. - - [29] _Che Raffaelle non ebbe quest’ arte da natura, ma per longo - studio._ R. - - [30] Unfortunately for mankind, these _were_ the last words pronounced - by this great painter from the Academical chair. He died about - fourteen months after this Discourse was delivered. M. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifteen Discourses, by -Sir Joshua Reynolds and L. 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March Phillips - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Fifteen Discourses - -Author: Sir Joshua Reynolds - L. March Phillips - -Editor: Ernest Rhys - -Release Date: June 29, 2016 [EBook #52436] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN DISCOURSES *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="309" height="500" alt="[Image of the book cover unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p class="c">Everyman, I will go with thee, and be thy guide,<br /> -In thy most need to go by thy side. -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_i" id="page_i"></a>{i}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii"></a>{ii}</span> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">This is No. 118 of Everyman’s Library. A list of authors and their -works in this series will be found at the end of this volume. The -publishers will be pleased to send freely to all applicants a -separate, annotated list of the Library.</p> - -<p class="c"> -J. M. DENT & SONS LIMITED<br /> -10-13 BEDFORD STREET LONDON W.C.2<br /> -<br /> -E. P. DUTTON & CO. INC.<br /> -286-302 FOURTH AVENUE<br /> -NEW YORK<br /> -</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii"></a>{iii}</span> </p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="c">EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY<br /> -EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -ESSAYS<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -FIFTEEN DISCOURSES DELIVERED<br /> -IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY<br /> -BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS · INTRO-<br />DUCTION<br /> -BY L. MARCH PHILLIPPS<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv"></a>{iv}</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">JOSHUA REYNOLDS, born in 1723 in Devonshire, the son of the Rev. -Samuel Reynolds. Lived at Plymouth, 1746-9, afterwards going to -Italy. Settled in London, 1752, becoming fashionable -portrait-painter. Founded the Literary Club. In 1768 the first -president of the Royal Academy. Died in 1792, and buried in St. -Paul’s.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v"></a>{v}</span></p> - -<h1>FIFTEEN DISCOURSES</h1> - -<p class="c"><img src="images/colophon.png" -width="105" -height="102" -alt="[Image of the colophon unavailable.]" -/> -<br /> -SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS LTD.<br /> -NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. INC.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi"></a>{vi}</span><br /> -<br /><br /><small> -<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> -<i>Made in Great Britain<br /> -at The Temple Press Letchworth<br /> -and decorated by Eric Ravilious<br /> -for</i><br /> -<i>J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd.<br /> -Aldine House Bedford St. London</i><br /> -<i>Toronto</i> . <i>Vancouver</i><br /> -<i>Melbourne</i> . <i>Wellington</i><br /> -<i>First Published in this Edition 1906</i><br /> -<i>Reprinted 1928</i></small> -</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" class="bbox3"> -<tr><td class="c"><a href="#DISCOURSE_I">Discourse I, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_II">Discourse II, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_III">Discourse III, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_IV">Discourse IV, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_V">Discourse V, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_VI">Discourse VI, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_VII">Discourse VII, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_VIII">Discourse VIII, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_IX">Discourse IX, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_X">Discourse X, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_XI">Discourse XI, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_XII">Discourse XII, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_XIII">Discourse XIII, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_XIV">Discourse XIV, </a> -<a href="#DISCOURSE_XV">Discourse XV</a><br /> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii"></a>{vii}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> most careless reader of these Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds will -be struck by their frequent slighting and depreciatory allusions to the -great Venetian colourists, and by the almost passionate note of warning -sounded in them against the teaching and influence of these masters. The -school of Venice is always referred to by Sir Joshua as the “decorative” -school; “mere elegance” is defined as its principal object, and its -“ornamental” character is affirmed to be totally inconsistent with any -achievement of the first order. Tintoret and Veronese are selected for -especial condemnation. “These are the persons who may be said to have -exhausted all the powers of florid eloquence to debauch the young and -inexperienced.” They have turned many painters “from those higher -excellences of which the art is capable, and which ought to be required -in every considerable production.”</p> - -<p>If we seek more particularly the ground of Sir Joshua’s dislike of the -Venetians, we shall find it in the fact that that school was, as he says -himself, “engrossed by the study of colour to the neglect of the ideal -beauty of form.” Ideal beauty of form constituted, in Sir Joshua’s view, -the only possible really noble motive in art. He never for a moment, in -criticism and theory, admitted the possibility of colour constituting -such a motive. Colour, in his judgment, remained always a quite -secondary and merely decorative affair, while the true greatness of the -painting depended entirely on its excellence as a study of form. In one -of his letters to the <i>Idler</i> he pushes this view to such a length, and -so entirely confines the idea of beauty to form, and form alone, that he -actually asserts that the colour of a thing can have no more to do with -its beauty than its smell has.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii"></a>{viii}</span></p> - -<p>If it were an ordinary critic who wrote and reasoned thus, we should -pass by his judgments as indicative merely of a totally defective colour -sense. But to suppose that Reynolds, of all men, was defective in this -respect would be absurd. The extraordinary thing about him is that no -sooner had he passed from the lecture-room to his own studio than he -proceeded to demonstrate in his work his own intense appreciation of -that insidious school of colour against which he was never tired of -warning his hearers. He was himself one of those victims whom Tintoret -and Veronese had “debauched.” He had stayed in Venice but a few weeks, -in Rome two years, and yet the example of the Venetians had made -incalculably the deeper impression upon him. With all the force of his -judgment and reason he approved the teaching of Michael Angelo, but with -a warmth which had more of emotion in it he adored the great colourists. -Into the examination of the methods by which these had obtained their -effects he threw himself with an energy which amounted to downright -excitement, and to his thirst for information sacrificed even the -paintings that so allured him, rubbing and scraping away, as we are -told, the impasto of several valuable pictures in order that he might -investigate the composition of the successive layers of colour. His own -ceaseless experiments in colour effects and the use into which he was -led of refractory pigments, resulting too often in the cracking or -peeling of his pictures, are a further testimony to the hold which, -entirely against his will, Venice exerted over him. He recognised it -himself even while he submitted to it. In the last words addressed by -him to the Academicians there is a pathetic consciousness of what he -seems to have felt as his own disloyalty in not sticking in practice to -that greatness which his reason always assured him was pre-eminent. He -could claim to be an admirer only, not a follower, of Michael Angelo. “I -have taken another course, one more suited to my abilities and to the -taste of the times in which I live. Yet,” he exclaims contritely, -“however unequal I feel myself to that attempt, were I now to begin the -world again I would tread in the steps of that great master; to kiss -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ix" id="page_ix"></a>{ix}</span> hem of his garment, to catch the slightest of his perfections, -would be glory and distinction enough for an ambitious man.”</p> - -<p>In practice devoted to Venice, in theory despising her; in practice -ignoring the great Florentines, in theory strenuously upholding their -ideals: such are the contradictions one meets with in Sir Joshua -Reynolds, and certainly his judgments, and these lectures in which they -are contained, will never be rightly understood until a clue to these -contradictions be found.</p> - -<p>Let us remember, in the first place, that down to the eighteenth century -the native art of England had been essentially an art of form. The great -Gothic creative epoch had exhibited its energy and power in architecture -and sculpture alone. No great school of painting arose in the North to -vie with the varied and rich productions of the builders and sculptors -of that age. Such colour as was used was used in a subordinate or, to -use Sir Joshua’s word, a “decorative” sense—to enrich, that is, and add -a brilliance to form. But it was in form only, whether structural, as in -the great cathedrals, or statuesque, as in the innumerable and beautiful -figures and effigies which adorn or repose in them, or expressed in the -carved likeness of flowers and foliage and animals and birds—it was in -form, I say, only that the Gothic genius displayed its real power and -initiative.</p> - -<p>And this being so, the nature of the contributions which the Gothic -nations were to make to pictorial art might almost, perhaps, have been -foreseen. Drawing rather than painting gave them the effects they -sought, and the art of wood engraving became in their hands a natural -and popular mode of expression. The powerful black line of the graver -was found to be extraordinarily effective in delineating mere form, and -accordingly in this new art, first started in Europe about the beginning -of the fifteenth century, the Gothic races, however hopelessly behind in -delineation by colour, took the lead. They treated it, indeed, quite -frankly, not as a pictorial but as a sculptural representation. That is -to say, they ignored aerial perspective and effects of light and shade -altogether, and made no<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_x" id="page_x"></a>{x}</span> attempt to produce the illusion to the eye of a -represented scene or landscape. On the other hand, each figure, or -object, or animal was outlined with extraordinary clearness and force, -as if it were being designed for a carving in relief. One has but to -turn from the sculptured work in wood or stone to the wood engravings of -the same period to recognise the similarity in spirit between the two, -and realise how thoroughly genuine a product of its age the art of -engraving was. It carried on the Gothic temper and characteristic view -of nature and life. It loved the same direct and literal statements, and -its sole preoccupation was how to express them with as much -matter-of-fact precision as possible and invest them with all the air of -positive realities. Moreover, the art, as it was developed in the North, -betrays the same strong popular sympathies that run through all Gothic -art. The same perception belongs to it of the significance and interest -of all homely objects and scenes, and it loves to depict in the same way -the details of the life and labour of the common people. And if it -cannot give to these things the actual reality of concrete form, it -still endeavours to attain this end so far as can possibly be done by -outline. Its instinct is always to treat its subjects as things, never -as appearances.</p> - -<p>Wood engraving, then, carries on directly the great Gothic movement, and -is part of that movement. It continues to apply to life that measure of -<i>form</i> which had hitherto so completely satisfied the Northern nations, -but which was soon to satisfy them no longer. Moreover, although this -splendid Gothic outburst of formative and structural art by degrees -waned and spent itself, yet still it remained the only aspect of art of -which the North had cognisance. The influence of the Renaissance was for -long accepted in the North as a structural influence only. In England -painting remained a dead letter, and on the Continent the only notable -school which arose, the Dutch school, was remarkable for just the -characteristics which had always distinguished Northern art—a love of -the facts of common life and a close, exact, and literal representation -of form. In short, if we were to take our stand<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xi" id="page_xi"></a>{xi}</span> in the middle of the -eighteenth century we should find stretching behind us the long history -of an art which had developed with unexampled vigour all the resources -of form, but which had never been really warmed and suffused by any -great conception of the value of colour. This was the atmosphere and -world of art into which Sir Joshua was born, and of which his criticism -is the outcome.</p> - -<p>I will ask the reader now, in this brief survey of ours of the currents -that are carrying us on to the moment of Reynolds’s life and influence, -to turn his eyes southward to Italy, where he will perceive an -altogether new element in art gathering head and preparing to exert an -influence contrary to the old influence of form over the rest of Europe.</p> - -<p>I have always thought myself that, as the intellectual and -matter-of-fact qualities of the Western mind are especially embodied in -form, so the emotional and sensuous qualities of the Eastern mind are -embodied, or find expression, in colour. However that may be, it would -seem to be certain that a conception of the possibilities of colour -quite unknown in Europe previously was gradually introduced into Italy -during the centuries which ensued between the collapse of classic Rome -and the rise of the Gothic nationalities by Byzantine artists and -architects arriving from Constantinople and the Eastern empires. This -new use of colour, contributed by the East, and which was to take -deepest root wherever the influence of the East had been most firmly -established, is, moreover, quite easy to understand and define. Gothic -colour was used, as I have said, subordinately to form and as one of -form’s attributes, its range and limits being exactly defined by the -body of those objects it belongs to. Oriental colour, on the other hand, -is used quite differently. Instead of being handled by form, it is -handled by light and shade, and with the help of light and shade it is -at once enabled to overcome the limitations of form and to develop a -rich and ample scheme of its own extending through the whole -composition. The marks of colour used in this sense are, I believe, -invariably these two: (1) It always employs its warmest and richest -hues; (2) it always melts away the edges and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xii" id="page_xii"></a>{xii}</span> exactitudes of form, and -suffuses them all in a universal sunny glow.</p> - -<p>It was in the interiors of their mosaic churches, swathed in mellow -gold, inlaid with rich colours, and always deeply and darkly shadowed, -that the Byzantine architects best embodied this Oriental conception of -colour effect, and the whole of Italy was to some extent warmed by their -glow. But it was in Venice, where the influence of the East was always -paramount, and where the most splendid of all these mosaic churches -glowed and glittered in the midst of the city, that the example had -strongest and most definite effect. Here it grafted itself and bore -fruit, and in the city which for so many centuries had sucked -nourishment from Eastern sources there arose in due time a school of -painting in which all the great characteristics of Oriental colour are -exhibited.</p> - -<p>This school it was which took Reynolds captive. But in yielding to -colour of this kind he was not yielding to decorative colour. The rich, -suffused colour on the canvas of a Tintoret or a Titian is not -decorative colour at all. It is emotional colour, colour used to instil -a sensation and a feeling, not to define an object. Will the reader -compare in his mind the inside of St. Mark’s at Venice with the inside -of St. Peter’s at Rome? Both make much use of colour, but in St. Mark’s -the colour appears as a pervading deep and rich glow, governed and -controlled by light and shade; in St. Peter’s it appears as a -complicated pattern of variously cut marbles exposed in clear daylight. -This last is the decorative use of colour, and excites no feeling at -all. The former is the emotional use of it, and both excites and -satisfies deep feeling. The same difference is apparent between colour -as dealt with by the Venetian painters and colour as dealt with by the -Northern nations before Venice’s influence had been felt.</p> - -<p>Bearing these facts in mind, the theory and the practice of Reynolds -both gain in significance. He came at the moment when the spread of that -Eastern ideal of colouring, which had already been carried here and -there through Europe, had become possible in England. He has himself -drawn attention to this<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xiii" id="page_xiii"></a>{xiii}</span> tendency it possessed to overflow and extend -into other nations. “By them,” he says—that is, by Tintoret and -Veronese especially—“a style merely ornamental has been disseminated -throughout all Europe. Rubens carried it into Flanders, Voet to France, -and Lucca Giordano to Spain and Naples.” To which he might have added, -“and I myself to England.”</p> - -<p>From the point of view of his work and example, Reynolds is to be -considered as the instrument of destiny appointed to a great end, while -at the same time his own slighting and inadequate criticism of this kind -of colour and his humble contrition for having been led astray by it are -not, if we remember his date, unintelligible. For, having behind him a -national past throughout which form, and the intellectual associations -suggested by form, ruled paramount, and in which the only recognised -function of colour had been its decorative function, it must seem to be -inevitable that, however natural an aptitude he may have possessed for -judging the grandeur of form, he could have possessed little for -appraising the effects of colour. The truth is that he applies to colour -used as the Venetians used it exactly the kind of criticism which he -might have applied to it as it was used all through the Gothic epoch. It -was inbred in Reynolds that colour must be and could be only a property -of form—must and could be, that is to say, only decorative. To this -formula he returns again and again, and however inapplicable it may seem -to the mighty Venetian canvases, we have only to put ourselves in -Reynolds’s time and place to perceive that the use of it was natural and -inevitable.</p> - -<p>But all this represented, after all, only his conscious criticism and -reasoning. Form is intellectual, colour emotional, and if intellectually -Sir Joshua remained true to the first, emotionally he abandoned himself -entirely to the last. Venice never conquered his reason, but she -conquered his instincts and feelings and affections, and, for all that -reason could do, for thirty years, from his return from Italy until his -death, he poured forth work which owes all its power and charm to that -very glow and suffusion of colour which year by year he denounced to the -pupils of the Royal Academy as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xiv" id="page_xiv"></a>{xiv}</span> delusion and a snare. It seems to me -that this conquest of Sir Joshua Reynolds, in spite of all his protests -and in defiance of all his reasoning, is about the most remarkable proof -extant of the irresistible influence which emotional colouring can -exert.</p> - -<p>Well, then, turning to these Discourses, let us say at once that all the -strictures on the great colourists which they contain do not constitute -a real valuation of colour at all, but only a valuation of it by one -bred in traditions of form. They have, indeed, their own great interest. -They enable us to realise, more vividly than anything else I can think -of, the limitations and one-sidedness of art in England in the days -before Reynolds’s own painting achievements had helped to lay the basis -of a truer standard in criticism than any he himself possessed or could -possess. Here their interest is unique. But as criticism we may pass -them by. No one, indeed, has refuted them more ably than Sir Joshua -himself. His real and genuine estimate of colour is to be found, not in -what he said, but in what he did.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, perhaps the very solidity and unity of that great -Northern tradition which stretched behind him gave a simplicity and -power to his analysis of form which it would scarcely in a later day -have possessed. Certainly I do not know where else in English art -criticism are to be found such clear and weighty definitions of what -grandeur of style consists in as occur throughout these Discourses. The -principle of the selection of essential traits, or those common to the -species, together with the elimination of accidental ones, or those -peculiar to the individual, which may be said to underlie his whole -theory of the grand style, is indeed that principle on which art itself -is founded, and the recognition of which has made the difference in all -ages between the cultured and ignorant, between the artist who -simplifies and the artist who complicates, between Greek and barbarian. -It is little to the point to say that this principle is already familiar -to us, and that we have no need of further instruction in it, for it is -with this as with other truths that matter, which become dimmed and -stale in the world, and lose their meaning and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xv" id="page_xv"></a>{xv}</span> have to be reaffirmed -from time to time by some great teacher with emphasis and power.</p> - -<p>It is in their powerful handling of first principles in all that regards -form that the value of these lectures lies. It is this also which gives -them for the present age their character of an antidote. There are times -during which the national life, uncertain and fluctuating in convictions -and aims, is incapable of inspiring art with any definite impulse -whatsoever. These, for art, are melancholy days—days divested of all -tradition and agreement—which it occupies rather in experimenting on -its own methods and processes than in producing definite constructive -work. Such experiments, however, are taken very seriously by -contemporaries, and all kinds of ingenious, far-fetched tricks are -played in paint or marble with as much zeal as if they formed part of a -genuine creative movement. Art criticism, it is needless to say, follows -the lead of art, and analyses these fugitive individual experiments as -solemnly as if they were an authentic expression of the life of their -age. The combined effect of this kind of art and this kind of art -criticism on a disinterested stranger would probably be that, far from -conceiving of art as a very important and vitally human affair, he would -conclude that it was an extremely clever and ingenious kind of juggling, -which, however interesting to cliques and coteries, could be no concern -of mankind in general.</p> - -<p>There is no doubt that the best way, or only way, of counteracting this -tendency to triviality, to which in an experimental age we are liable, -is now and then to have recourse to those primitive and fixed principles -of art which are the same in all ages, and obedience to which alone -constitutes a passport to the regard of all ages. Only, in order that -such principles may be made acceptable and attractive, it is essential -that they should be treated with that directness and simplicity which an -intimate consciousness of their truth inspires. They are so treated in -these Discourses, and the consequence of their being so treated is that -just as a reader wearied by the trivialities of contemporary poetry or -the arguments of contemporary theology may find rest and refreshment by -turning over a page<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xvi" id="page_xvi"></a>{xvi}</span> or two of Wordsworth or Thomas à Kempis, so in -something the same way at least, though perhaps in a less degree, he may -be brought closer again to the reality he had lost touch of in matters -of art by turning from the art criticism of the newspapers to the -lectures of Sir Joshua Reynolds.</p> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">Discourses delivered in the Royal Academy, 1769-1791 (published -separately).</p> - -<p class="hang">Seven Discourses delivered in the Royal Academy (1769-76), 1778. -Edited by H. Morley (Cassell’s National Library), 1888.</p> - -<p class="hang">Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Ed. E. Gosse, 1884.</p> - -<p class="hang">Ed. H. Zimmern (Camelot Classics), 1887.</p> - -<p class="hang">Works: Ed. G. Malone, 2 vols., 1797, 1798.</p> - -<p class="hang">Complete Works, 3 vols., 1824.</p> - -<p class="hang">Ed. H. W. Beechey, 2 vols., 1835; 1852 (Bohn). (Works include “A -Journey to Flanders and Holland,” Annotations on Du Fresnoy’s “Art -of Painting,” and three letters to the <i>Idler</i>, 1759, on Painting, -and the True Idea of Beauty.)</p> - -<p class="hang">Sir Joshua Reynolds and his Works (Gleanings from Diary, -unpublished MSS., &c.), by W. Cotton. Ed. J. Barnet, 1856.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1"></a>{1}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="Preface_to_Discourse_I" id="Preface_to_Discourse_I"></a><small><span class="smcap">Preface to Discourse I.</span></small><br /><br /> -TO THE MEMBERS<br /> -<small>OF</small><br /> -THE ROYAL ACADEMY</h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">That</span> you have ordered the publication of this discourse is not only very -flattering to me, as it implies your approbation of the method of study -which I have recommended; but, likewise, as this method receives from -that act such an additional weight and authority, as demands from the -students that deference and respect which can be due only to the united -sense of so considerable a body of artists.</p> - -<p class="c"> -I am,<br /> - -With the greatest esteem and respect,<br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-right:5%;">Gentlemen,</span><br /> - -<span style="margin-left: 5%;">Your most humble</span><br /> - -<span style="margin-left:12%;">and obedient Servant,</span><br /> - -<span style="margin-left: 30%;"><span class="smcap">Joshua Reynolds</span>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2"></a>{2}</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3"></a>{3}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_I" id="DISCOURSE_I"></a>DISCOURSE I<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered at the opening of the Royal Academy, January 2, 1769.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">The Advantages proceeding from the Institution of a Royal -Academy.—Hints offered to the Consideration of the Professors and -Visitors;—That an Implicit Obedience to the Rules of Art be -exacted from the Young Students;—That a Premature Disposition to a -Masterly Dexterity be repressed;—That Diligence be constantly -recommended, and (that it may be effectual) directed to its Proper -Object.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">An</span> Academy, in which the Polite Arts may be regularly cultivated, is at -last opened among us by Royal munificence. This must appear an event in -the highest degree interesting, not only to the artists, but to the -whole nation.</p> - -<p>It is indeed difficult to give any other reason, why an empire like that -of Britain should so long have wanted an ornament so suitable to its -greatness, than that slow progression of things, which naturally makes -elegance and refinement the last effect of opulence and power.</p> - -<p>An institution like this has often been recommended upon considerations -merely mercantile; but an Academy, founded upon such principles, can -never effect even its own narrow purposes. If it has an origin no -higher, no taste can ever be formed in manufactures; but if the higher -Arts of Design flourish, these inferior ends will be answered of course.</p> - -<p>We are happy in having a Prince, who has conceived the design of such an -institution, according<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4"></a>{4}</span> to its true dignity; and who promotes the Arts, -as the head of a great, a learned, a polite, and a commercial nation; -and I can now congratulate you, gentlemen, on the accomplishment of your -long and ardent wishes.</p> - -<p>The numberless and ineffectual consultations which I have had with many -in this assembly, to form plans and concert schemes for an Academy, -afford a sufficient proof of the impossibility of succeeding but by the -influence of Majesty. But there have, perhaps, been times, when even the -influence of Majesty would have been ineffectual; and it is pleasing to -reflect, that we are thus embodied, when every circumstance seems to -concur from which honour and prosperity can probably arise.</p> - -<p>There are, at this time, a greater number of excellent artists than were -ever known before at one period in this nation; there is a general -desire among our nobility to be distinguished as lovers and judges of -the Arts; there is a greater superfluity of wealth among the people to -reward the professors; and, above all, we are patronised by a monarch, -who, knowing the value of science and of elegance, thinks every art -worthy of his notice, that tends to soften and humanise the mind.</p> - -<p>After so much has been done by his Majesty, it will be wholly our fault, -if our progress is not in some degree correspondent to the wisdom and -generosity of the Institution: let us show our gratitude in our -diligence, that, though our merit may not answer his expectations, yet, -at least, our industry may deserve his protection.</p> - -<p>But whatever may be our proportion of success, of this we may be sure, -that the present Institution will at least contribute to advance our -knowledge of the Arts, and bring us nearer to that ideal excellence, -which it is the lot of genius always to contemplate and never to -attain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5"></a>{5}</span></p> - -<p>The principal advantage of an Academy is, that, besides furnishing able -men to direct the student, it will be a repository for the great -examples of the Art. These are the materials on which genius is to work, -and without which the strongest intellect may be fruitlessly or -deviously employed. By studying these authentic models, that idea of -excellence which is the result of the accumulated experience of past -ages, may be at once acquired; and the tardy and obstructed progress of -our predecessors may teach us a shorter and easier way. The student -receives, at one glance, the principles which many artists have spent -their whole lives in ascertaining; and, satisfied with their effect, is -spared the painful investigation by which they came to be known and -fixed. How many men of great natural abilities have been lost to this -nation, for want of these advantages! They never had an opportunity of -seeing those masterly efforts of genius, which at once kindle the whole -soul, and force it into sudden and irresistible approbation.</p> - -<p>Raffaelle, it is true, had not the advantage of studying in an Academy; -but all Rome, and the works of Michael Angelo in particular, were to him -an academy. On the sight of the Capella Sistina, he immediately from a -dry, Gothic, and even insipid manner, which attends to the minute -accidental discriminations of particular and individual objects, assumed -that grand style of painting, which improves partial representation by -the general and invariable ideas of nature.</p> - -<p>Every seminary of learning may be said to be surrounded with an -atmosphere of floating knowledge, where every mind may imbibe somewhat -congenial to its own original conceptions. Knowledge, thus obtained, has -always something more popular and useful than that which is forced upon -the mind by private precepts, or solitary meditation. Besides,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6"></a>{6}</span> it is -generally found, that a youth more easily receives instruction from the -companions of his studies, whose minds are nearly on a level with his -own, than from those who are much his superiors; and it is from his -equals only that he catches the fire of emulation.</p> - -<p>One advantage, I will venture to affirm, we shall have in our Academy, -which no other nation can boast. We shall have nothing to unlearn. To -this praise the present race of artists have a just claim. As far as -they have yet proceeded, they are right. With us the exertions of genius -will henceforward be directed to their proper objects. It will not be as -it has been in other schools, where he that travelled fastest only -wandered farthest from the right way.</p> - -<p>Impressed, as I am, therefore, with such a favourable opinion of my -associates in this undertaking, it would ill become me to dictate to any -of them. But as these institutions have so often failed in other -nations; and as it is natural to think with regret, how much might have -been done, I must take leave to offer a few hints, by which those errors -may be rectified, and those defects supplied. These the professors and -visitors may reject or adopt as they shall think proper.</p> - -<p>I would chiefly recommend, that an implicit obedience to the <i>Rules of -Art</i>, as established by the practice of the great masters, should be -exacted from the <i>young</i> students. That those models, which have passed -through the approbation of ages, should be considered by them as perfect -and infallible guides; as subjects for their imitation, not their -criticism.</p> - -<p>I am confident, that this is the only efficacious method of making a -progress in the Arts; and that he who sets out with doubting, will find -life finished before he becomes master of the rudiments. For it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7"></a>{7}</span> may be -laid down as a maxim, that he who begins by presuming on his own sense, -has ended his studies as soon as he has commenced them. Every -opportunity, therefore, should be taken to discountenance that false and -vulgar opinion, that rules are the fetters of genius; they are fetters -only to men of no genius; as that armour, which upon the strong is an -ornament and a defence, upon the weak and mis-shapen becomes a load, and -cripples the body which it was made to protect.</p> - -<p>How much liberty may be taken to break through those rules, and, as the -poet expresses it,</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To snatch a grace beyond the reach of art,<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">may be a subsequent consideration, when the pupils become masters -themselves. It is then, when their genius has received its utmost -improvement, that rules may possibly be dispensed with. But let us not -destroy the scaffold, until we have raised the building.</p> - -<p>The directors ought more particularly to watch over the genius of those -students, who, being more advanced, are arrived at that critical period -of study, on the nice management of which their future turn of taste -depends. At that age it is natural for them to be more captivated with -what is brilliant, than with what is solid, and to prefer splendid -negligence to painful and humiliating exactness.</p> - -<p>A facility in composing,—a lively, and what is called a masterly, -handling of the chalk or pencil, are, it must be confessed, captivating -qualities to young minds, and become of course the objects of their -ambition. They endeavour to imitate these dazzling excellences, which -they will find no great labour in attaining. After much time spent in -these frivolous pursuits, the difficulty will be to retreat; but it will -be then too late; and there is scarce an instance of return to -scrupulous labour, after the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8"></a>{8}</span> mind has been debauched and deceived by -this fallacious mastery.</p> - -<p>By this useless industry they are excluded from all power of advancing -in real excellence. Whilst boys, they are arrived at their utmost -perfection; they have taken the shadow for the substance; and make the -mechanical felicity the chief excellence of the art, which is only an -ornament, and of the merit of which few but painters themselves are -judges.</p> - -<p>This seems to me to be one of the most dangerous sources of corruption; -and I speak of it from experience, not as an error which may possibly -happen, but which has actually infected all foreign academies. The -directors were probably pleased with this premature dexterity in their -pupils, and praised their dispatch at the expense of their correctness.</p> - -<p>But young men have not only this frivolous ambition of being thought -masters of execution inciting them on one hand, but also their natural -sloth tempting them on the other. They are terrified at the prospect -before them, of the toil required to attain exactness. The impetuosity -of youth is disgusted at the slow approaches of a regular siege, and -desires, from mere impatience of labour, to take the citadel by storm. -They wish to find some shorter path to excellence, and hope to obtain -the reward of eminence by other means than those, which the -indispensable rules of art have prescribed. They must therefore be told -again and again, that labour is the only price of solid fame, and that -whatever their force of genius may be, there is no easy method of -becoming a good painter.</p> - -<p>When we read the lives of the most eminent painters, every page informs -us, that no part of their time was spent in dissipation. Even an -increase of fame served only to augment their industry. To be convinced -with what persevering<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9"></a>{9}</span> assiduity they pursued their studies, we need -only reflect on their method of proceeding in their most celebrated -works. When they conceived a subject, they first made a variety of -sketches; then a finished drawing of the whole; after that a more -correct drawing of every separate part,—heads, hands, feet, and pieces -of drapery; they then painted the picture, and after all re-touched it -from the life. The pictures, thus wrought with such pains, now appear -like the effect of enchantment, and as if some mighty genius had struck -them off at a blow.</p> - -<p>But, whilst diligence is thus recommended to the students, the visitors -will take care that their diligence be effectual; that it be well -directed, and employed on the proper object. A student is not always -advancing because he is employed; he must apply his strength to that -part of the art where the real difficulties lie; to that part which -distinguishes it as a liberal art; and not by mistaken industry lose his -time in that which is merely ornamental. The students, instead of vying -with each other which shall have the readiest hand, should be taught to -contend who shall have the purest and most correct outline; instead of -striving which shall produce the brightest tint, or curiously trifling, -shall give the gloss of stuffs, so as to appear real, let their ambition -be directed to contend, which shall dispose his drapery in the most -graceful folds, which shall give the most grace and dignity to the human -figure.</p> - -<p>I must beg leave to submit one thing more to the consideration of the -visitors, which appears to me a matter of very great consequence, and -the omission of which I think a principal defect in the method of -education pursued in all the academies I have ever visited. The error I -mean is, that the students never draw exactly from the living models -which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10"></a>{10}</span> they have before them. It is not indeed their intention; nor are -they directed to do it. Their drawings resemble the model only in the -attitude. They change the form according to their vague and uncertain -ideas of beauty, and make a drawing rather of what they think the figure -ought to be, than of what it appears. I have thought this the obstacle -that has stopped the progress of many young men of real genius; and I -very much doubt, whether a habit of drawing correctly what we see, will -not give a proportionable power of drawing correctly what we imagine. He -who endeavours to copy nicely the figure before him, not only acquires a -habit of exactness and precision, but is continually advancing in his -knowledge of the human figure; and though he seems to superficial -observers to make a slower progress, he will be found at last capable of -adding (without running into capricious wildness) that grace and beauty, -which is necessary to be given to his more finished works, and which -cannot be got by the moderns, as it was not acquired by the ancients, -but by an attentive and well compared study of the human form.</p> - -<p>What I think ought to enforce this method is, that it has been the -practice (as may be seen by their drawings) of the great Masters in the -Art. I will mention a drawing of Raffaelle, <i>The Dispute of the -Sacrament</i>, the print of which, by Count Cailus, is in every hand. It -appears, that he made his sketch from one model; and the habit he had of -drawing exactly from the form before him appears by his making all the -figures with the same cap, such as his model then happened to wear; so -servile a copyist was this great man, even at a time when he was allowed -to be at his highest pitch of excellence.</p> - -<p>I have seen also academy figures by Annibale Caracci, though he was -often sufficiently licentious<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11"></a>{11}</span> in his finished works, drawn with all the -peculiarities of an individual model.</p> - -<p>This scrupulous exactness is so contrary to the practice of the -academies, that it is not without great deference, that I beg leave to -recommend it to the consideration of the visitors; and submit to them, -whether the neglect of this method is not one of the reasons why -students so often disappoint expectation, and, being more than boys at -sixteen, become less than men at thirty.</p> - -<p>In short, the method I recommend can only be detrimental where there are -but few living forms to copy; for then students, by always drawing from -one alone, will by habit be taught to overlook defects, and mistake -deformity for beauty. But of this there is no danger; since the Council -has determined to supply the Academy with a variety of subjects; and -indeed those laws which they have drawn up, and which the Secretary will -presently read for your confirmation, have in some measure precluded me -from saying more upon this occasion. Instead, therefore, of offering my -advice, permit me to indulge my wishes, and express my hope, that this -institution may answer the expectation of its Royal founder; that the -present age may vie in Arts with that of Leo the Tenth; and that <i>the -dignity of the dying Art</i> (to make use of an expression of Pliny) may be -revived under the reign of George the Third.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12"></a>{12}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_II" id="DISCOURSE_II"></a>DISCOURSE II<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 11, 1769.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">The Course and Order of Study.—The Different Stages of Art.—Much -Copying discountenanced.—The Artist at all Times and in all Places -should be employed in laying up Materials for the Exercise of his -Art.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p>I <span class="smcap">congratulate</span> you on the honour which you have just received. I have -the highest opinion of your merits, and could wish to show my sense of -them in something which possibly may be more useful to you than barren -praise. I could wish to lead you into such a course of study as may -render your future progress answerable to your past improvement; and, -whilst I applaud you for what has been done, remind you how much yet -remains to attain perfection.</p> - -<p>I flatter myself, that from the long experience I have had, and the -unceasing assiduity with which I have pursued those studies, in which, -like you, I have been engaged, I shall be acquitted of vanity in -offering some hints to your consideration. They are indeed in a great -degree founded upon my own mistakes in the same pursuit. But the history -of errors, properly managed, often shortens the road to truth. And -although no method of study that I can offer, will of itself conduct to -excellence, yet it may preserve industry from being misapplied.</p> - -<p>In speaking to you of the Theory of the Art, I shall only consider it as -it has a relation to the <i>method</i> of your studies.</p> - -<p>Dividing the study of painting into three distinct periods, I shall -address you as having passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13"></a>{13}</span> through the first of them, which is -confined to the rudiments; including a facility of drawing any object -that presents itself, a tolerable readiness in the management of -colours, and an acquaintance with the most simple and obvious rules of -composition.</p> - -<p>This first degree of proficiency is, in painting, what grammar is in -literature, a general preparation for whatever species of the art the -student may afterwards choose for his more particular application. The -power of drawing, modelling, and using colours, is very properly called -the language of the art; and in this language, the honours you have just -received prove you to have made no inconsiderable progress.</p> - -<p>When the artist is once enabled to express himself with some degree of -correctness, he must then endeavour to collect subjects for expression; -to amass a stock of ideas, to be combined and varied as occasion may -require. He is now in the second period of study, in which his business -is to learn all that has been known and done before his own time. Having -hitherto received instructions from a particular master, he is now to -consider the Art itself as his master. He must extend his capacity to -more sublime and general instructions. Those perfections which lie -scattered among various masters are now united in one general idea, -which is henceforth to regulate his taste, and enlarge his imagination. -With a variety of models thus before him, he will avoid that narrowness -and poverty of conception which attends a bigoted admiration of a single -master, and will cease to follow any favourite where he ceases to excel. -This period is, however, still a time of subjection and discipline. -Though the student will not resign himself blindly to any single -authority, when he may have the advantage of consulting many, he must -still be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14"></a>{14}</span> afraid of trusting his own judgment, and of deviating into any -track where he cannot find the footsteps of some former master.</p> - -<p>The third and last period emancipates the student from subjection to any -authority, but what he shall himself judge to be supported by reason. -Confiding now in his own judgment, he will consider and separate those -different principles to which different modes of beauty owe their -original. In the former period he sought only to know and combine -excellence, wherever it was to be found, into one idea of perfection: in -this, he learns, what requires the most attentive survey and the most -subtle disquisition, to discriminate perfections that are incompatible -with each other.</p> - -<p>He is from this time to regard himself as holding the same rank with -those masters whom he before obeyed as teachers; and as exercising a -sort of sovereignty over those rules which have hitherto restrained him. -Comparing now no longer the performances of Art with each other, but -examining the Art itself by the standard of nature, he corrects what is -erroneous, supplies what is scanty, and adds by his own observation what -the industry of his predecessors may have yet left wanting to -perfection. Having well established his judgment, and stored his memory, -he may now without fear try the power of his imagination. The mind that -has been thus disciplined, may be indulged in the warmest enthusiasm, -and venture to play on the borders of the wildest extravagance. The -habitual dignity which long converse with the greatest minds has -imparted to him will display itself in all his attempts; and he will -stand among his instructors, not as an imitator, but a rival.</p> - -<p>These are the different stages of the Art. But as I now address myself -particularly to those students who have been this day rewarded for their -happy<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15"></a>{15}</span> passage through the first period, I can with no propriety suppose -they want any help in the initiatory studies. My present design is to -direct your view to distant excellence, and to show you the readiest -path that leads to it. Of this I shall speak with such latitude, as may -leave the province of the professor uninvaded; and shall not anticipate -those precepts, which it is his business to give, and your duty to -understand.</p> - -<p>It is indisputably evident that a great part of every man’s life must be -employed in collecting materials for the exercise of genius. Invention, -strictly speaking, is little more than a new combination of those images -which have been previously gathered and deposited in the memory: nothing -can come of nothing: he who has laid up no materials, can produce no -combinations.</p> - -<p>A student unacquainted with the attempts of former adventurers is always -apt to overrate his own abilities; to mistake the most trifling -excursions for discoveries of moment, and every coast new to him, for a -new-found country. If by chance he passes beyond his usual limits, he -congratulates his own arrival at those regions which they who have -steered a better course have long left behind them.</p> - -<p>The productions of such minds are seldom distinguished by an air of -originality: they are anticipated in their happiest efforts; and if they -are found to differ in anything from their predecessors, it is only in -irregular sallies, and trifling conceits. The more extensive therefore -your acquaintance is with the works of those who have excelled, the more -extensive will be your powers of invention; and what may appear still -more like a paradox, the more original will be your conceptions. But the -difficulty on this occasion is to determine what ought to be proposed as -models of excellence, and who ought to be considered as the properest -guides.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16"></a>{16}</span></p> - -<p>To a young man just arrived in Italy, many of the present painters of -that country are ready enough to obtrude their precepts, and to offer -their own performances as examples of that perfection which they affect -to recommend. The modern, however, who recommends <i>himself</i> as a -standard, may justly be suspected as ignorant of the true end, and -unacquainted with the proper object, of the art which he professes. To -follow such a guide, will not only retard the student, but mislead him.</p> - -<p>On whom then can he rely, or who shall show him the path that leads to -excellence? The answer is obvious: those great masters who have -travelled the same road with success are the most likely to conduct -others. The works of those who have stood the test of ages, have a claim -to that respect and veneration to which no modern can pretend. The -duration and stability of their fame is sufficient to evince that it has -not been suspended upon the slender thread of fashion and caprice, but -bound to the human heart by every tie of sympathetic approbation.</p> - -<p>There is no danger of studying too much the works of those great men; -but how they may be studied to advantage is an inquiry of great -importance.</p> - -<p>Some who have never raised their minds to the consideration of the real -dignity of the Art, and who rate the works of an artist in proportion as -they excel or are defective in the mechanical parts, look on theory as -something that may enable them to talk but not to paint better; and -confining themselves entirely to mechanical practice, very assiduously -toil on in the drudgery of copying; and think they make a rapid progress -while they faithfully exhibit the minutest part of a favourite picture. -This appears to me a very tedious, and I think a very erroneous method -of proceeding. Of every large composition,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17"></a>{17}</span> even of those which are most -admired, a great part may be truly said to be <i>commonplace</i>. This, -though it takes up much time in copying, conduces little to improvement. -I consider general copying as a delusive kind of industry; the student -satisfies himself with the appearance of doing something; he falls into -the dangerous habit of imitating without selecting, and of labouring -without any determinate object; as it requires no effort of the mind, he -sleeps over his work; and those powers of invention and composition -which ought particularly to be called out, and put in action, lie -torpid, and lose their energy for want of exercise.</p> - -<p>How incapable those are of producing anything of their own, who have -spent much of their time in making finished copies, is well known to all -who are conversant with our art.</p> - -<p>To suppose that the complication of powers, and variety of ideas -necessary to that mind which aspires to the first honours in the art of -painting, can be obtained by the frigid contemplation of a few single -models, is no less absurd, than it would be in him who wishes to be a -poet, to imagine that by translating a tragedy he can acquire to himself -sufficient knowledge of the appearances of nature, the operations of the -passions, and the incidents of life.</p> - -<p>The great use in copying, if it be at all useful, should seem to be in -learning to colour; yet even colouring will never be perfectly attained -by servilely copying the model before you. An eye critically nice can -only be formed by observing well-coloured pictures with attention; and -by close inspection, and minute examination, you will discover, at last, -the manner of handling, the artifices of contrast, glazing, and other -expedients, by which good colourists have raised the value of their -tints, and by which nature has been so happily imitated.</p> - -<p>I must inform you, however, that old pictures<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18"></a>{18}</span> deservedly celebrated for -their colouring, are often so changed by dirt and varnish, that we ought -not to wonder if they do not appear equal to their reputation in the -eyes of inexperienced painters, or young students. An artist whose -judgment is matured by long observation, considers rather what the -picture once was, than what it is at present. He has by habit acquired a -power of seeing the brilliancy of tints through the cloud by which it is -obscured. An exact imitation, therefore, of those pictures, is likely to -fill the student’s mind with false opinions; and to send him back a -colourist of his own formation, with ideas equally remote from nature -and from art, from the genuine practice of the masters, and the real -appearances of things.</p> - -<p>Following these rules, and using these precautions, when you have -clearly and distinctly learned in what good colouring consists, you -cannot do better than have recourse to nature herself, who is always at -hand, and in comparison of whose true splendour the best coloured -pictures are but faint and feeble.</p> - -<p>However, as the practice of copying is not entirely to be excluded, -since the mechanical practice of painting is learned in some measure by -it, let those choice parts only be selected which have recommended the -work to notice. If its excellence consists in its general effect, it -would be proper to make slight sketches of the machinery and general -management of the picture. Those sketches should be kept always by you -for the regulation of your style. Instead of copying the touches of -those great masters, copy only their conceptions. Instead of treading in -their footsteps, endeavour only to keep the same road. Labour to invent -on their general principles and way of thinking. Possess yourself with -their spirit. Consider with yourself how a Michael Angelo or a Raffaelle -would have treated<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19"></a>{19}</span> this subject: and work yourself into a belief that -your picture is to be seen and criticised by them when completed. Even -an attempt of this kind will rouse your powers.</p> - -<p>But as mere enthusiasm will carry you but a little way, let me recommend -a practice that may be equivalent to and will perhaps more efficaciously -contribute to your advancement, than even the verbal corrections of -those masters themselves, could they be obtained. What I would propose -is, that you should enter into a kind of competition, by painting a -similar subject, and making a companion to any picture that you consider -as a model. After you have finished your work, place it near the model, -and compare them carefully together. You will then not only see, but -feel your own deficiencies more sensibly than by precepts, or any other -means of instruction. The true principles of painting will mingle with -your thoughts. Ideas thus fixed by sensible objects will be certain and -definitive; and sinking deep into the mind, will not only be more just, -but more lasting than those presented to you by precepts only; which -will always be fleeting, variable, and undetermined.</p> - -<p>This method of comparing your own efforts with those of some great -master is indeed a severe and mortifying task, to which none will -submit, but such as have great views, with fortitude sufficient to -forego the gratifications of present vanity for future honour. When the -student has succeeded in some measure to his own satisfaction, and has -felicitated himself on his success, to go voluntarily to a tribunal -where he knows his vanity must be humbled, and all self-approbation must -vanish, requires not only great resolution, but great humility. To him, -however, who has the ambition to be a real master, the solid -satisfaction which proceeds from a consciousness of his advancement (of -which seeing his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20"></a>{20}</span> faults is the first step), will very abundantly -compensate for the mortification of present disappointment. There is, -besides, this alleviating circumstance. Every discovery he makes, every -acquisition of knowledge he attains, seems to proceed from his own -sagacity; and thus he acquires a confidence in himself sufficient to -keep up the resolution of perseverance.</p> - -<p>We all must have experienced how lazily, and consequently how -ineffectually, instruction is received when forced upon the mind by -others. Few have been taught to any purpose, who have not been their own -teachers. We prefer those instructions which we have given ourselves, -from our affection to the instructor; and they are more effectual, from -being received into the mind at the very time when it is most open and -eager to receive them.</p> - -<p>With respect to the pictures that you are to choose for your models, I -could wish that you would take the world’s opinion rather than your own. -In other words, I would have you choose those of established reputation, -rather than follow your own fancy. If you should not admire them at -first, you will, by endeavouring to imitate them, find that the world -has not been mistaken.</p> - -<p>It is not an easy task to point out those various excellences for your -imitation, which lie distributed amongst the various schools. An -endeavour to do this may perhaps be the subject of some future -discourse. I will, therefore, at present only recommend a model for -style in painting, which is a branch of the art more immediately -necessary to the young student. Style in painting is the same as in -writing, a power over materials, whether words or colours, by which -conceptions or sentiments are conveyed. And in this Lodovico Caracci (I -mean in his best works) appears to me to approach the nearest to -perfection.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21"></a>{21}</span> His unaffected breadth of light and shadow, the simplicity -of colouring, which, holding its proper rank, does not draw aside the -least part of the attention from the subject, and the solemn effect of -that twilight which seems diffused over his pictures, appear to me to -correspond with grave and dignified subjects, better than the more -artificial brilliancy of sunshine which enlightens the pictures of -Titian: though Tintoret thought that Titian’s colouring was the model of -perfection, and would correspond even with the sublime of Michael -Angelo; and that if Angelo had coloured like Titian, or Titian designed -like Angelo, the world would once have had a perfect painter.</p> - -<p>It is our misfortune, however, that those works of Caracci which I would -recommend to the student, are not often found out of Bologna. The <i>St. -Francis in the midst of his Friars</i>, <i>The Transfiguration</i>, <i>The Birth -of St. John the Baptist</i>, <i>The Calling of St. Matthew</i>, the <i>St. -Jerome</i>, the <i>Fresco Paintings</i> in the Zampieri Palace, are all worthy -the attention of the student. And I think those who travel would do well -to allot a much greater portion of their time to that city, than it has -been hitherto the custom to bestow.</p> - -<p>In this art, as in others, there are many teachers who profess to show -the nearest way to excellence; and many expedients have been invented by -which the toil of study might be saved. But let no man be seduced to -idleness by specious promises. Excellence is never granted to man, but -as the reward of labour. It argues indeed no small strength of mind to -persevere in habits of industry, without the pleasure of perceiving -those advances; which, like the hand of a clock, whilst they make hourly -approaches to their point, yet proceed so slowly as to escape -observation. A facility of drawing, like that of playing upon a musical -instrument, cannot be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22"></a>{22}</span> acquired but by an infinite number of acts. I -need not, therefore, enforce by many words the necessity of continual -application; nor tell you that the port-crayon ought to be for ever in -your hands. Various methods will occur to you by which this power may be -acquired. I would particularly recommend, that after your return from -the Academy (where I suppose your attendance to be constant), you would -endeavour to draw the figure by memory. I will even venture to add, that -by perseverance in this custom, you will become able to draw the human -figure tolerably correct, with as little effort of the mind as is -required to trace with a pen the letters of the alphabet.</p> - -<p>That this facility is not unattainable, some members in this Academy -give a sufficient proof. And be assured, that if this power is not -acquired whilst you are young, there will be no time for it afterwards: -at least the attempt will be attended with as much difficulty as those -experience, who learn to read or write after they have arrived at the -age of maturity.</p> - -<p>But while I mention the port-crayon as the student’s constant companion, -he must still remember, that the pencil is the instrument by which he -must hope to obtain eminence. What, therefore, I wish to impress upon -you is, that whenever an opportunity offers, you paint your studies -instead of drawing them. This will give you such a facility in using -colours, that in time they will arrange themselves under the pencil, -even without the attention of the hand that conducts it. If one act -excluded the other, this advice could not with any propriety be given. -But if painting comprises both drawing and colouring, and if by a short -struggle of resolute industry, the same expedition is attainable in -painting as in drawing on paper, I cannot see what objection can justly -be made to the practice; or why that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23"></a>{23}</span> should be done by parts, which may -be done all together.</p> - -<p>If we turn our eyes to the several Schools of Painting, and consider -their respective excellences, we shall find that those who excel most in -colouring, pursued this method. The Venetian and Flemish schools, which -owe much of their fame to colouring, have enriched the cabinets of the -collectors of drawings with very few examples. Those of Titian, Paul -Veronese, Tintoret, and the Bassans, are in general slight and -undetermined; their sketches on paper are as rude as their pictures are -excellent in regard to harmony of colouring. Correggio and Baroccio have -left few, if any, finished drawings behind them. And in the Flemish -school, Rubens and Vandyck made their designs for the most part either -in colours, or in chiaroscuro. It is as common to find studies of the -Venetian and Flemish painters on canvas, as of the schools of Rome and -Florence on paper. Not but that many finished drawings are sold under -the names of those masters. Those, however, are undoubtedly the -productions either of engravers or of their scholars, who copied their -works.</p> - -<p>These instructions I have ventured to offer from my own experience; but -as they deviate widely from received opinions, I offer them with -diffidence; and when better are suggested, shall retract them without -regret.</p> - -<p>There is one precept, however, in which I shall only be opposed by the -vain, the ignorant, and the idle. I am not afraid that I shall repeat it -too often. You must have no dependence on your own genius. If you have -great talents, industry will improve them; if you have but moderate -abilities, industry will supply their deficiency. Nothing is denied to -well-directed labour: nothing is to be obtained without it. Not to enter -into metaphysical discussions<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24"></a>{24}</span> on the nature or essence of genius, I -will venture to assert, that assiduity unabated by difficulty, and a -disposition eagerly directed to the object of its pursuit, will produce -effects similar to those which some call the result of <i>natural powers</i>.</p> - -<p>Though a man cannot at all times, and in all places, paint or draw, yet -the mind can prepare itself by laying in proper materials, at all times, -and in all places. Both Livy and Plutarch, in describing Philopoemen, -one of the ablest generals of antiquity, have given us a striking -picture of a mind always intent on its profession, and by assiduity -obtaining those excellences which some all their lives vainly expect -from nature. I shall quote the passage in Livy at length, as it runs -parallel with the practice I would recommend to the painter, sculptor, -and architect:</p> - -<p>“Philopoemen was a man eminent for his sagacity and experience in -choosing ground, and in leading armies; to which he formed his mind by -perpetual meditation, in times of peace as well as war. When, in any -occasional journey, he came to a strait difficult passage, if he was -alone he considered with himself, and if he was in company he asked his -friends, what it would be best to do if in this place they had found an -enemy, either in the front, or in the rear, on the one side, or on the -other. ‘It might happen,’ says he, ‘that the enemy to be opposed might -come on drawn up in regular lines, or in a tumultuous body, formed only -by the nature of the place.’ He then considered a little what ground he -should take; what number of soldiers he should use, and what arms he -should give them; where he should lodge his carriages, his baggage, and -the defenceless followers of his camp; how many guards, and of what -kind, he should send to defend them; and whether it would be better to -press forward along the pass,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25"></a>{25}</span> or recover by retreat his former station: -he would consider likewise where his camp could most commodiously be -formed; how much ground he should inclose within his trenches: where he -should have the convenience of water, and where he might find plenty of -wood and forage; and when he should break up his camp on the following -day, through what road he could most safely pass, and in what form he -should dispose his troops. With such thoughts and disquisitions he had -from his early years so exercised his mind, that on these occasions -nothing could happen which he had not been already accustomed to -consider.”</p> - -<p>I cannot help imagining that I see a promising young painter, equally -vigilant, whether at home, or abroad, in the streets, or in the fields. -Every object that presents itself is to him a lesson. He regards all -nature with a view to his profession; and combines her beauties, or -corrects her defects. He examines the countenance of men under the -influence of passion; and often catches the most pleasing hints from -subjects of turbulence or deformity. Even bad pictures themselves supply -him with useful documents; and, as Lionardo da Vinci has observed, he -improves upon the fanciful images that are sometimes seen in the fire, -or are accidentally sketched upon a discoloured wall.</p> - -<p>The artist who has his mind thus filled with ideas, and his hand made -expert by practice, works with ease and readiness; whilst he who would -have you believe that he is waiting for the inspirations of genius, is -in reality at a loss how to begin; and is at last delivered of his -monsters, with difficulty and pain.</p> - -<p>The well-grounded painter, on the contrary, has only maturely to -consider his subject, and all the mechanical parts of his art follow -without his exertion. Conscious of the difficulty of obtaining what<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26"></a>{26}</span> he -possesses, he makes no pretensions to secrets, except those of closer -application. Without conceiving the smallest jealousy against others, he -is contented that all shall be as great as himself, who have undergone -the same fatigue; and as his pre-eminence depends not upon a trick, he -is free from the painful suspicions of a juggler, who lives in perpetual -fear lest his trick should be discovered.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_III" id="DISCOURSE_III"></a>DISCOURSE III<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 14, 1770.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">The Great Leading Principles of the Grand Style.—Of Beauty.—The -Genuine Habits of Nature to be distinguished from those of Fashion.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"> -<span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is not easy to speak with propriety to so many students of different -ages and different degrees of advancement. The mind requires nourishment -adapted to its growth; and what may have promoted our earlier efforts, -might retard us in our nearer approaches to perfection.</p> - -<p>The first endeavours of a young painter, as I have remarked in a former -discourse, must be employed in the attainment of mechanical dexterity, -and confined to the mere imitation of the object before him. Those who -have advanced beyond the rudiments may, perhaps, find advantage in -reflecting on the advice which I have likewise given them, when I -recommended the diligent study of the works of our great predecessors; -but I at the same time endeavoured to guard them against an implicit -submission to the authority of any one master however excellent: or by a -strict imitation of his manner,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27"></a>{27}</span> precluding themselves from the -abundance and variety of nature. I will now add that Nature herself is -not to be too closely copied. There are excellences in the art of -painting beyond what is commonly called the imitation of nature: and -these excellences I wish to point out. The students who, having passed -through the initiatory exercises, are more advanced in the art, and who, -sure of their hand, have leisure to exert their understanding, must now -be told, that a mere copier of nature can never produce anything great; -can never raise and enlarge the conceptions, or warm the heart of the -spectator.</p> - -<p>The wish of the genuine painter must be more extensive: instead of -endeavouring to amuse mankind with the minute neatness of his -imitations, he must endeavour to improve them by the grandeur of his -ideas; instead of seeking praise, by deceiving the superficial sense of -the spectator, he must strive for fame, by captivating the imagination.</p> - -<p>The principle now laid down, that the perfection of this art does not -consist in mere imitation, is far from being new or singular. It is, -indeed, supported by the general opinion of the enlightened part of -mankind. The poets, orators, and rhetoricians of antiquity, are -continually enforcing this position; that all the arts receive their -perfection from an ideal beauty, superior to what is to be found in -individual nature. They are ever referring to the practice of the -painters and sculptors of their times, particularly Phidias (the -favourite artist of antiquity), to illustrate their assertions. As if -they could not sufficiently express their admiration of his genius by -what they knew, they have recourse to poetical enthusiasm: they call it -inspiration; a gift from heaven. The artist is supposed to have ascended -the celestial regions, to furnish his mind with this perfect idea of -beauty. “He,” says<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28"></a>{28}</span> Proclus,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> “who takes for his model such forms as -nature produces, and confines himself to an exact imitation of them, -will never attain to what is perfectly beautiful. For the works of -nature are full of disproportion, and fall very short of the true -standard of beauty. So that Phidias, when he formed his Jupiter, did not -copy any object ever presented to his sight; but contemplated only that -image which he had conceived in his mind from Homer’s description.” And -thus Cicero, speaking of the same Phidias: “Neither did this artist,” -says he, “when he carved the image of Jupiter or Minerva, set before him -any one human figure, as a pattern, which he was to copy; but having a -more perfect idea of beauty fixed in his mind, this he steadily -contemplated, and to the imitation of this all his skill and labour were -directed.”</p> - -<p>The moderns are not less convinced than the ancients of this superior -power existing in the art; nor less sensible of its effects. Every -language has adopted terms expressive of this excellence. The <i>gusto -grande</i> of the Italians, the <i>beau idéal</i> of the French, and the <i>great -style</i>, <i>genius</i>, and <i>taste</i> among the English, are but different -appellations of the same thing. It is this intellectual dignity, they -say, that ennobles the painter’s art; that lays the line between him and -the mere mechanic; and produces those great effects in an instant, which -eloquence and poetry, by slow and repeated efforts, are scarcely able to -attain.</p> - -<p>Such is the warmth with which both the ancients and moderns speak of -this divine principle of the art; but, as I have formerly observed, -enthusiastic admiration seldom promotes knowledge. Though a student by -such praise may have his attention roused, and a desire excited, of -running in this great<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29"></a>{29}</span> career; yet it is possible that what has been -said to excite, may only serve to deter him. He examines his own mind, -and perceives there nothing of that divine inspiration, with which, he -is told, so many others have been favoured. He never travelled to heaven -to gather new ideas; and he finds himself possessed of no other -qualifications than what mere common observation and a plain -understanding can confer. Thus he becomes gloomy amidst the splendour of -figurative declamation, and thinks it hopeless to pursue an object which -he supposes out of the reach of human industry.</p> - -<p>But on this, as upon many other occasions, we ought to distinguish how -much is to be given to enthusiasm, and how much to reason. We ought to -allow for, and we ought to commend, that strength of vivid expression, -which is necessary to convey, in its full force, the highest sense of -the most complete effect of art; taking care at the same time, not to -lose in terms of vague admiration, that solidity and truth of principle, -upon which alone we can reason, and may be enabled to practise.</p> - -<p>It is not easy to define in what this great style consists; nor to -describe, by words, the proper means of acquiring it, if the mind of the -student should be at all capable of such an acquisition. Could we teach -taste and genius by rules, they would be no longer taste and genius. But -though there neither are, nor can be, any precise invariable rules for -the exercise, or the acquisition, of these great qualities, yet we may -truly say, that they always operate in proportion to our attention in -observing the works of nature, to our skill in selecting, and to our -care in digesting, methodising, and comparing our observations. There -are many beauties in our art, that seem, at first, to lie without the -reach of precept, and yet may easily be reduced to practical principles. -Experience is all in all; but it is not<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30"></a>{30}</span> every one who profits by -experience; and most people err, not so much from want of capacity to -find their object, as from not knowing what object to pursue. This great -ideal perfection and beauty are not to be sought in the heavens, but -upon the earth. They are about us, and upon every side of us. But the -power of discovering what is deformed in nature, or in other words, what -is particular and uncommon, can be acquired only by experience; and the -whole beauty and grandeur of the art consists, in my opinion, in being -able to get above all singular forms, local customs, particularities, -and details of every kind.</p> - -<p>All the objects which are exhibited to our view by nature, upon close -examination will be found to have their blemishes and defects. The most -beautiful forms have something about them like weakness, minuteness, or -imperfection. But it is not every eye that perceives these blemishes. It -must be an eye long used to the contemplation and comparison of these -forms; and which, by a long habit of observing what any set of objects -of the same kind have in common, has acquired the power of discerning -what each wants in particular. This long laborious comparison should be -the first study of the painter who aims at the greatest style. By this -means, he acquires a just idea of beautiful forms; he corrects nature by -herself, her imperfect state by her more perfect. His eye being enabled -to distinguish the accidental deficiencies, excrescences, and -deformities of things, from their general figures, he makes out an -abstract idea of their forms more perfect than any one original; and, -what may seem a paradox, he learns to design naturally by drawing his -figures unlike to any one object. This idea of the perfect state of -nature, which the artist calls the Ideal Beauty, is the great leading -principle by which works of genius are conducted. By this<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31"></a>{31}</span> Phidias -acquired his fame. He wrought upon a sober principle what has so much -excited the enthusiasm of the world; and by this method you, who have -courage to tread the same path, may acquire equal reputation.</p> - -<p>This is the idea which has acquired, and which seems to have a right to, -the epithet of <i>divine</i>; as it may be said to preside, like a supreme -judge, over all the productions of nature; appearing to be possessed of -the will and intention of the Creator, as far as they regard the -external form of living beings. When a man once possesses this idea in -its perfection, there is no danger but that he will be sufficiently -warmed by it himself, and be able to warm and ravish everyone else.</p> - -<p>Thus it is from a reiterated experience, and a close comparison of the -objects in nature, that an artist becomes possessed of the idea of that -central form, if I may so express it, from which every deviation is -deformity. But the investigation of this form, I grant, is painful, and -I know but of one method of shortening the road; this is, by a careful -study of the works of the ancient sculptors; who, being indefatigable in -the school of nature, have left models of that perfect form behind them, -which an artist would prefer as supremely beautiful, who had spent his -whole life in that single contemplation. But if industry carried them -thus far, may not you also hope for the same reward from the same -labour? We have the same school opened to us, that was opened to them: -for nature denies her instructions to none, who desire to become her -pupils.</p> - -<p>This laborious investigation, I am aware, must appear superfluous to -those who think everything is to be done by felicity, and the powers of -native genius. Even the great Bacon treats with ridicule the idea of -confining proportion to rules, or of producing beauty by selection. “A -man cannot tell”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32"></a>{32}</span> (says he) “whether Apelles or Albert Dürer were the -more trifler; whereof the one would make a personage by geometrical -proportions; the other, by taking the best parts out of divers faces, to -make one excellent.... The painter” (he adds) “must do it by a kind of -felicity ... and not by rule.”<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> - -<p>It is not safe to question any opinion of so great a writer, and so -profound a thinker, as undoubtedly Bacon was. But he studies brevity to -excess; and therefore his meaning is sometimes doubtful. If he means -that beauty has nothing to do with rule, he is mistaken. There is a -rule, obtained out of general nature, to contradict which is to fall -into deformity. Whenever anything is done beyond this rule, it is in -virtue of some other rule which is followed along with it, but which -does not contradict it. Everything which is wrought with certainty is -wrought upon some principle. If it is not, it cannot be repeated. If by -felicity is meant anything of chance or hazard, or something born with a -man, and not earned, I cannot agree with this great philosopher. Every -object which pleases must give us pleasure upon some certain principles; -but as the objects of pleasure are almost infinite, so their principles -vary without end, and every man finds them out, not by felicity or -successful hazard, but by care and sagacity.</p> - -<p>To the principle I have laid down, that the idea of beauty in each -species of beings is an invariable one, it may be objected, that in -every particular species there are various central forms, which are -separate and distinct from each other, and yet are undeniably beautiful; -that in the human figure, for instance, the beauty of Hercules is one, -of the Gladiator another, of the Apollo another; which makes so many -different ideas of beauty.</p> - -<p>It is true, indeed, that these figures are each<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33"></a>{33}</span> perfect in their kind, -though of different characters and proportions; but still none of them -is the representation of an individual, but of a class. And as there is -one general form, which, as I have said, belongs to the human kind at -large, so in each of these classes there is one common idea and central -form, which is the abstract of the various individual forms belonging to -that class. Thus, though the forms of childhood and age differ -exceedingly, there is a common form in childhood, and a common form in -age, which is the more perfect, as it is more remote from all -peculiarities. But I must add further, that though the most perfect -forms of each of the general divisions of the human figure are ideal, -and superior to any individual form of that class; yet the highest -perfection of the human figure is not to be found in any one of them. It -is not in the Hercules, nor in the Gladiator, nor in the Apollo; but in -that form which is taken from all, and which partakes equally of the -activity of the Gladiator, of the delicacy of the Apollo, and of the -muscular strength of the Hercules. For perfect beauty in any species -must combine all the characters which are beautiful in that species. It -cannot consist in any one to the exclusion of the rest; no one, -therefore, must be predominant, that no one may be deficient.</p> - -<p>The knowledge of these different characters, and the power of separating -and distinguishing them, are undoubtedly necessary to the painter, who -is to vary his compositions with figures of various forms and -proportions, though he is never to lose sight of the general idea of -perfection in each kind.</p> - -<p>There is, likewise, a kind of symmetry, or proportion, which may -properly be said to belong to deformity. A figure, lean or corpulent, -tall or short, though deviating from beauty, may still have a certain -union of the various parts, which may<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34"></a>{34}</span> contribute to make them on the -whole not unpleasing.</p> - -<p>When the artist has by diligent attention acquired a clear and distinct -idea of beauty and symmetry; when he has reduced the variety of nature -to the abstract idea; his next task will be to become acquainted with -the genuine habits of nature, as distinguished from those of fashion. -For in the same manner, and on the same principles, as he has acquired -the knowledge of the real forms of nature, distinct from accidental -deformity, he must endeavour to separate simple chaste nature, from -those adventitious, those affected and forced airs or actions, with -which she is loaded by modern education.</p> - -<p>Perhaps I cannot better explain what I mean, than by reminding you of -what was taught us by the Professor of Anatomy, in respect to the -natural position and movement of the feet. He observed, that the fashion -of turning them outwards was contrary to the intent of nature, as might -be seen from the structure of the bones, and from the weakness that -proceeded from that manner of standing. To this we may add the erect -position of the head, the projection of the chest, the walking with -straight knees, and many such actions, which we know to be merely the -result of fashion, and what nature never warranted, as we are sure that -we have been taught them when children.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned but a few of those instances, in which vanity or -caprice have contrived to distort and disfigure the human form: your own -recollection will add to these a thousand more of ill-understood -methods, which have been practised to disguise nature among our -dancing-masters, hairdressers, and tailors, in their various schools of -deformity.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35"></a>{35}</span></p> - -<p>However the mechanic and ornamental arts may sacrifice to fashion, she -must be entirely excluded from the art of painting; the painter must -never mistake this capricious changeling for the genuine offspring of -nature; he must divest himself of all prejudices in favour of his age or -country; he must disregard all local and temporary ornaments, and look -only on those general habits which are everywhere and always the same; -he addresses his works to the people of every country and every age, he -calls upon posterity to be his spectators, and says with Zeuxis, <i>in -æternitatem pingo</i>.</p> - -<p>The neglect of separating modern fashions from the habits of nature -leads to that ridiculous style which has been practised by some -painters, who have given to Grecian heroes the airs and graces practised -in the Court of Louis the Fourteenth; an absurdity almost as great as it -would have been to have dressed them after the fashion of that Court.</p> - -<p>To avoid this error, however, and to retain the true simplicity of -nature, is a task more difficult than at first sight it may appear. The -prejudices in favour of the fashions and customs that we have been used -to, and which are justly called a second nature, make it too often -difficult to distinguish that which is natural from that which is the -result of education; they frequently even give a predilection in favour -of the artificial mode; and almost everyone is apt to be guided by those -local prejudices, who has not chastised his mind and regulated the -instability of his affections by the eternal invariable idea of nature.</p> - -<p>Here then, as before, we must have recourse to the ancients as -instructors. It is from a careful study of their works that you will be -enabled to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36"></a>{36}</span> attain to the real simplicity of nature; they will suggest -many observations, which would probably escape you, if your study were -confined to nature alone. And, indeed, I cannot help suspecting, that in -this instance the ancients had an easier task than the moderns. They -had, probably, little or nothing to unlearn, as their manners were -nearly approaching to this desirable simplicity; while the modern -artist, before he can see the truth of things, is obliged to remove a -veil, with which the fashion of the times has thought proper to cover -her.</p> - -<p>Having gone thus far in our investigation of the great style in -painting; if we now should suppose that the artist has found the true -idea of beauty, which enables him to give his works a correct and -perfect design; if we should suppose also, that he has acquired a -knowledge of the unadulterated habits of nature, which gives him -simplicity; the rest of his task is, perhaps, less than is generally -imagined. Beauty and simplicity have so great a share in the composition -of a great style, that he who has acquired them has little else to -learn. It must not, indeed, be forgotten, that there is a nobleness of -conception, which goes beyond anything in the mere exhibition even of -perfect form; there is an art of animating and dignifying the figures -with intellectual grandeur, of impressing the appearance of philosophic -wisdom, or heroic virtue. This can only be acquired by him that enlarges -the sphere of his understanding by a variety of knowledge, and warms his -imagination with the best productions of ancient and modern poetry.</p> - -<p>A hand thus exercised, and a mind thus instructed, will bring the art to -a higher degree of excellence than, perhaps, it has hitherto attained in -this country. Such a student will disdain the humbler walks of painting, -which, however profitable, can never assure him a permanent reputation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37"></a>{37}</span> -He will leave the meaner artist servilely to suppose that those are the -best pictures, which are most likely to deceive the spectator. He will -permit the lower painter, like the florist or collector of shells, to -exhibit the minute discriminations, which distinguish one object of the -same species from another; while he, like the philosopher, will consider -nature in the abstract, and represent in every one of his figures the -character of its species.</p> - -<p>If deceiving the eye were the only business of the art, there is no -doubt, indeed, but the minute painter would be more apt to succeed; but -it is not the eye, it is the mind, which the painter of genius desires -to address; nor will he waste a moment upon those smaller objects, which -only serve to catch the sense, to divide the attention, and to -counteract his great design of speaking to the heart.</p> - -<p>This is the ambition which I wish to excite in your minds; and the -object I have had in my view, throughout this discourse, is that one -great idea, which gives to painting its true dignity, which entitles it -to the name of a liberal art, and ranks it as a sister of poetry.</p> - -<p>It may possibly have happened to many young students, whose application -was sufficient to overcome all difficulties, and whose minds were -capable of embracing the most extensive views, that they have, by a -wrong direction originally given, spent their lives in the meaner walks -of painting, without ever knowing there was a nobler to pursue. Albert -Dürer, as Vasari has justly remarked, would, probably, have been one of -the first painters of his age (and he lived in an era of great artists) -had he been initiated into those great principles of the art, which were -so well understood and practised by his contemporaries in Italy. But -unluckily having never<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38"></a>{38}</span> seen or heard of any other manner, he, without -doubt, considered his own as perfect.</p> - -<p>As for the various departments of painting, which do not presume to make -such high pretensions, they are many. None of them are without their -merit, though none enter into competition with this universal presiding -idea of the art. The painters who have applied themselves more -particularly to low and vulgar characters, and who express with -precision the various shades of passion, as they are exhibited by vulgar -minds (such as we see in the works of Hogarth), deserve great praise; -but as their genius has been employed on low and confined subjects, the -praise which we give must be as limited as its object. The merry-making, -or quarrelling of the boors of Teniers; the same sort of productions of -Brouwer, or Ostade, are excellent in their kind; and the excellence and -its praise will be in proportion, as, in those limited subjects, and -peculiar forms, they introduce more or less of the expression of those -passions, as they appear in general and more enlarged nature. This -principle may be applied to the battle-pieces of Bourgognone the French -gallantries of Watteau, and even beyond the exhibition of animal life, -to the landscapes of Claude Lorrain, and the sea views of Vandervelde. -All these painters have, in general, the same right, in different -degrees, to the name of a painter, which a satirist, an epigrammatist, a -sonneteer, a writer of pastorals or descriptive poetry, has to that of a -poet.</p> - -<p>In the same rank, and perhaps of not so great merit, is the cold painter -of portraits. But his correct and just imitation of his object has its -merit. Even the painter of still life, whose highest ambition is to give -a minute representation of every part of those low objects which he sets -before him, deserves praise in proportion to his attainment;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39"></a>{39}</span> because no -part of this excellent art, so much the ornament of polished life, is -destitute of value and use. These, however, are by no means the views to -which the mind of the student ought to be <i>primarily</i> directed. Having -begun by aiming at better things, if from particular inclination, or -from the taste of the time and place he lives in, or from necessity, or -from failure in the highest attempts, he is obliged to descend lower, he -will bring into the lower sphere of art a grandeur of composition and -character, that will raise and ennoble his works far above their natural -rank.</p> - -<p>A man is not weak, though he may not be able to wield the club of -Hercules; nor does a man always practise that which he esteems the best; -but does that which he can best do. In moderate attempts, there are many -walks open to the artist. But as the idea of beauty is of necessity but -one, so there can be but one great mode of painting; the leading -principle of which I have endeavoured to explain.</p> - -<p>I should be sorry, if what is here recommended, should be at all -understood to countenance a careless or indetermined manner of painting. -For though the painter is to overlook the accidental discriminations of -nature, he is to exhibit distinctly, and with precision, the general -forms of things. A firm and determined outline is one of the -characteristics of the great style in painting; and let me add, that he -who possesses the knowledge of the exact form which every part of nature -ought to have, will be fond of expressing that knowledge with -correctness and precision in all his works.</p> - -<p>To conclude; I have endeavoured to reduce the idea of beauty to general -principles: and I had the pleasure to observe that the Professor of -Painting proceeded in the same method, when he showed you that the -artifice of contrast was founded but on one principle. I am convinced -that this is the only<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40"></a>{40}</span> means of advancing science; of clearing the mind -from a confused heap of contradictory observations, that do but perplex -and puzzle the student, when he compares them, or misguide him if he -gives himself up to their authority: bringing them under one general -head can alone give rest and satisfaction to an inquisitive mind.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_IV" id="DISCOURSE_IV"></a>DISCOURSE IV<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1771.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">General Ideas, the Presiding Principle which regulates every Part -of Art; Invention, Expression, Colouring, and Drapery.—Two -Distinct Styles in History-painting; the Grand, and the -Ornamental.—The Schools in which each is to be found.—The -Composite Style.—The Style formed on Local Customs and Habits, or -a Partial View of Nature.</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> value and rank of every art is in proportion to the mental labour -employed in it, or the mental pleasure produced by it. As this principle -is observed or neglected, our profession becomes either a liberal art, -or a mechanical trade. In the hands of one man it makes the highest -pretensions, as it is addressed to the noblest faculties: in those of -another it is reduced to a mere matter of ornament; and the painter has -but the humble province of furnishing our apartments with elegance.</p> - -<p>This exertion of mind, which is the only circumstance that truly -ennobles our art, makes the great distinction between the Roman and -Venetian schools. I have formerly observed that perfect form is produced -by leaving out particularities, and retaining only general ideas: I -shall now endeavour to show that this principle, which I have proved to -be metaphysically just, extends itself to every part<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41"></a>{41}</span> of the art; that -it gives what is called the <i>grand style</i> to invention, to composition, -to expression, and even to colouring and drapery.</p> - -<p>Invention in painting does not imply the invention of the subject; for -that is commonly supplied by the poet or historian. With respect to the -choice, no subject can be proper that is not generally interesting. It -ought to be either some eminent instance of heroic action, or heroic -suffering. There must be something either in the action, or in the -object, in which men are universally concerned, and which powerfully -strikes upon the public sympathy.</p> - -<p>Strictly speaking, indeed, no subject can be of universal, hardly can it -be of general, concern; but there are events and characters so popularly -known in those countries where our art is in request, that they may be -considered as sufficiently general for all our purposes. Such are the -great events of Greek and Roman fable and history, which early -education, and the usual course of reading, have made familiar and -interesting to all Europe, without being degraded by the vulgarism of -ordinary life in any country. Such too are the capital subjects of -Scripture history, which, besides their general notoriety, become -venerable by their connection with our religion.</p> - -<p>As it is required that the subject selected should be a general one, it -is no less necessary that it should be kept unembarrassed with whatever -may in any way serve to divide the attention of the spectator. Whenever -a story is related, every man forms a picture in his mind of the action -and expression of the persons employed. The power of representing this -mental picture on canvas is what we call invention in a painter. And as -in the conception of this ideal picture the mind does not enter into the -minute peculiarities of the dress, furniture, or scene of action; so -when the painter comes to represent it, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42"></a>{42}</span> contrives those little -necessary concomitant circumstances in such a manner, that they shall -strike the spectator no more than they did himself in his first -conception of the story.</p> - -<p>I am very ready to allow, that some circumstances of minuteness and -particularity frequently tend to give an air of truth to a piece, and to -interest the spectator in an extraordinary manner. Such circumstances -therefore cannot wholly be rejected: but if there be anything in the art -which requires peculiar nicety of discernment, it is the disposition of -these minute circumstantial parts; which, according to the judgment -employed in the choice, become so useful to truth, or so injurious to -grandeur.</p> - -<p>However, the usual and most dangerous error is on the side of -minuteness; and therefore I think caution most necessary where most have -failed. The general idea constitutes real excellence. All smaller -things, however perfect in their way, are to be sacrificed without mercy -to the greater. The painter will not inquire what things may be admitted -without much censure: he will not think it enough to show that they may -be there; he will show that they must be there; that their absence would -render his picture maimed and defective.</p> - -<p>Thus, though to the principal group a second or third be added, and a -second and third mass of light, care must be yet taken that these -subordinate actions and lights, neither each in particular, nor all -together, come into any degree of competition with the principal; they -should merely make a part of that whole which would be imperfect without -them. To every kind of painting this rule may be applied. Even in -portraits, the grace, and, we may add, the likeness, consists more in -taking the general air, than in observing the exact similitude of every -feature.</p> - -<p>Thus figures must have a ground whereon to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43"></a>{43}</span> stand; they must be clothed; -there must be a background; there must be light and shadow: but none of -these ought to appear to have taken up any part of the artist’s -attention. They should be so managed as not even to catch that of the -spectator. We know well enough, when we analyse a piece, the difficulty -and the subtilty with which an artist adjusts the background, drapery, -and masses of light; we know that a considerable part of the grace and -effect of his picture depends upon them; but this art is so much -concealed, even to a judicious eye, that no remains of any of these -subordinate parts occur to the memory when the picture is not present.</p> - -<p>The great end of the art is to strike the imagination. The painter -therefore is to make no ostentation of the means by which this is done; -the spectator is only to feel the result in his bosom. An inferior -artist is unwilling that any part of his industry should be lost upon -the spectator. He takes as much pains to discover, as the greater artist -does to conceal, the marks of his subordinate assiduity. In works of the -lower kind, everything appears studied, and encumbered; it is all -boastful art and open affectation. The ignorant often part from such -pictures with wonder in their mouths, and indifference in their hearts.</p> - -<p>But it is not enough in invention that the artist should restrain and -keep under all the inferior parts of his subject; he must sometimes -deviate from vulgar and strict historical truth, in pursuing the -grandeur of his design.</p> - -<p>How much the great style exacts from its professors to conceive and -represent their subjects in a poetical manner, not confined to mere -matter of fact, may be seen in the Cartoons of Raffaelle. In all the -pictures in which the painter has represented the Apostles, he has drawn -them with great nobleness; he has given them as much dignity as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44"></a>{44}</span> -human figure is capable of receiving; yet we are expressly told in -Scripture they had no such respectable appearance; and of St. Paul in -particular, we are told by himself, that his <i>bodily</i> presence was -<i>mean</i>. Alexander is said to have been of a low stature: a painter ought -not so to represent him. Agesilaus was low, lame, and of a mean -appearance: none of these defects ought to appear in a piece of which he -is the hero. In conformity to custom, I call this part of the art -history painting; it ought to be called poetical, as in reality it is.</p> - -<p>All this is not falsifying any fact; it is taking an allowed poetical -licence. A painter of portraits retains the individual likeness; a -painter of history shows the man by showing his actions. A painter must -compensate the natural deficiencies of his art. He has but one sentence -to utter, but one moment to exhibit. He cannot, like the poet or -historian, expatiate, and impress the mind with great veneration for the -character of the hero or saint he represents, though he lets us know at -the same time, that the saint was deformed, or the hero lame. The -painter has no other means of giving an idea of the dignity of the mind, -but by that external appearance which grandeur of thought does -generally, though not always, impress on the countenance; and by that -correspondence of figure to sentiment and situation, which all men wish, -but cannot command. The painter, who may in this one particular attain -with ease what others desire in vain, ought to give all that he possibly -can, since there are so many circumstances of true greatness that he -cannot give at all. He cannot make his hero talk like a great man; he -must make him look like one. For which reason, he ought to be well -studied in the analysis of those circumstances, which constitute dignity -of appearance in real life.</p> - -<p>As in invention, so likewise in expression, care<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45"></a>{45}</span> must be taken not to -run into particularities. Those expressions alone should be given to the -figures which their respective situations generally produce. Nor is this -enough; each person should also have that expression which men of his -rank generally exhibit. The joy, or the grief of a character of dignity, -is not to be expressed in the same manner as a similar passion in a -vulgar face. Upon this principle, Bernini, perhaps, may be subject to -censure. This sculptor, in many respects admirable, has given a very -mean expression to his statue of David, who is represented as just going -to throw the stone from the sling; and in order to give it the -expression of energy, he has made him biting his under-lip. This -expression is far from being general, and still farther from being -dignified. He might have seen it in an instance or two; and he mistook -accident for generality.</p> - -<p>With respect to colouring, though it may appear at first a part of -painting merely mechanical, yet it still has its rules, and those -grounded upon that presiding principle which regulates both the great -and the little in the study of a painter. By this, the first effect of -the picture is produced; and as this is performed, the spectator, as he -walks the gallery, will stop or pass along. To give a general air of -grandeur at first view, all trifling or artful play of little lights, or -an attention to a variety of tints, is to be avoided; a quietness and -simplicity must reign over the whole work; to which a breadth of uniform -and simple colour will very much contribute. Grandeur of effect is -produced by two different ways, which seem entirely opposed to each -other. One is, by reducing the colours to little more than chiaroscuro, -which was often the practice of the Bolognian schools; and the other, by -making the colours very distinct and forcible, such as we see in those -of Rome and Florence; but still, the presiding<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46"></a>{46}</span> principle of both those -manners is simplicity. Certainly, nothing can be more simple than -monotony; and the distinct blue, red, and yellow colours which are seen -in the draperies of the Roman and Florentine schools, though they have -not that kind of harmony which is produced by a variety of broken and -transparent colours, have that effect of grandeur which was intended. -Perhaps these distinct colours strike the mind more forcibly, from there -not being any great union between them; as martial music, which is -intended to rouse the nobler passions, has its effect from the sudden -and strongly marked transitions from one note to another, which that -style of music requires; whilst in that which is intended to move the -softer passions, the notes imperceptibly melt into one another.</p> - -<p>In the same manner as the historical painter never enters into the -detail of colours, so neither does he debase his conceptions with minute -attention to the discriminations of drapery. It is the inferior style -that marks the variety of stuffs. With him, the clothing is neither -woollen, nor linen, nor silk, satin, or velvet: it is drapery; it is -nothing more. The art of disposing the foldings of the drapery makes a -very considerable part of the painter’s study. To make it merely natural -is a mechanical operation, to which neither genius nor taste are -required; whereas it requires the nicest judgment to dispose the -drapery, so that the folds shall have an easy communication, and -gracefully follow each other, with such natural negligence as to look -like the effect of chance, and at the same time show the figure under it -to the utmost advantage.</p> - -<p>Carlo Maratti was of opinion, that the disposition of drapery was a more -difficult art than even that of drawing the human figure; that a student -might be more easily taught the latter than the former; as the rules of -drapery, he said, could not be so well ascertained<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47"></a>{47}</span> as those for -delineating a correct form. This, perhaps, is a proof how willingly we -favour our own peculiar excellence. Carlo Maratti is said to have valued -himself particularly upon his skill in this part of his art; yet in him, -the disposition appears so ostentatiously artificial, that he is -inferior to Raffaelle, even in that which gave him his best claim to -reputation.</p> - -<p>Such is the great principle by which we must be directed in the nobler -branches of our art. Upon this principle, the Roman, the Florentine, the -Bolognese schools, have formed their practice; and by this they have -deservedly obtained the highest praise. These are the three great -schools of the world in the epic style. The best of the French school, -Poussin, Le Sueur, and Le Brun, have formed themselves upon these -models, and consequently may be said, though Frenchmen, to be a colony -from the Roman school. Next to these, but in a very different style of -excellence, we may rank the Venetian, together with the Flemish and the -Dutch schools; all professing to depart from the great purposes of -painting, and catching at applause by inferior qualities.</p> - -<p>I am not ignorant that some will censure me for placing the Venetians in -this inferior class, and many of the warmest admirers of painting will -think them unjustly degraded; but I wish not to be misunderstood. Though -I can by no means allow them to hold any rank with the nobler schools of -painting, they accomplished perfectly the thing they attempted. But as -mere elegance is their principal object, as they seem more willing to -dazzle than to affect, it can be no injury to them to suppose that their -practice is useful only to its proper end. But what may heighten the -elegant may degrade the sublime. There is a simplicity, and, I may add, -severity, in the great manner, which is, I am afraid,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48"></a>{48}</span> almost -incompatible with this comparatively sensual style.</p> - -<p>Tintoret, Paul Veronese, and others of the Venetian school, seem to have -painted with no other purpose than to be admired for their skill and -expertness in the mechanism of painting, and to make a parade of that -art, which, as I before observed, the higher style requires its -followers to conceal.</p> - -<p>In a conference of the French Academy, at which were present Le Brun, -Sebastian Bourdon, and all the eminent artists of that age, one of the -Academicians desired to have their opinion on the conduct of Paul -Veronese, who, though a painter of great consideration, had, contrary to -the strict rules of art, in his picture of Perseus and Andromeda, -represented the principal figure in shade. To this question no -satisfactory answer was then given. But I will venture to say, that if -they had considered the class of the artist, and ranked him as an -ornamental painter, there would have been no difficulty in -answering—“It was unreasonable to expect what was never intended. His -intention was solely to produce an effect of light and shadow; -everything was to be sacrificed to that intent, and the capricious -composition of that picture suited very well with the style which he -professed.”</p> - -<p>Young minds are indeed too apt to be captivated by this splendour of -style; and that of the Venetians is particularly pleasing; for by them, -all those parts of the art that gave pleasure to the eye or sense, have -been cultivated with care, and carried to the degree nearest to -perfection. The powers exerted in the mechanical part of the art have -been called <i>the language of painters</i>; but we may say, that it is but -poor eloquence which only shows that the orator can talk. Words should -be employed as the means, not as the end: language is the instrument, -conviction is the work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49"></a>{49}</span></p> - -<p>The language of painting must indeed be allowed these masters; but even -in that, they have shown more copiousness than choice, and more -luxuriancy than judgment. If we consider the uninteresting subjects of -their invention, or at least the uninteresting manner in which they are -treated; if we attend to their capricious composition, their violent and -affected contrasts, whether of figures or of light and shadow, the -richness of their drapery, and at the same time the mean effect which -the discrimination of stuffs gives to their pictures; if to these we add -their total inattention to expression; and then reflect on the -conceptions and the learning of Michael Angelo, or the simplicity of -Raffaelle, we can no longer dwell on the comparison. Even in colouring, -if we compare the quietness and chastity of the Bolognese pencil to the -bustle and tumult that fills every part of a Venetian picture, without -the least attempt to interest the passions, their boasted art will -appear a mere struggle without effect; <i>a tale told by an idiot, full of -sound and fury, signifying nothing</i>.</p> - -<p>Such as suppose that the great style might happily be blended with the -ornamental, that the simple, grave and majestic dignity of Raffaelle -could unite with the glow and bustle of a Paolo, or Tintoret, are -totally mistaken. The principles by which each is attained are so -contrary to each other, that they seem, in my opinion, incompatible, and -as impossible to exist together, as that in the mind the most sublime -ideas and the lowest sensuality should at the same time be united.</p> - -<p>The subjects of the Venetian painters are mostly such as give them an -opportunity of introducing a great number of figures; such as feasts, -marriages, and processions, public martyrdoms, or miracles. I can easily -conceive that Paul Veronese, if he were asked, would say, that no -subject was proper for an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50"></a>{50}</span> historical picture, but such as admitted at -least forty figures; for in a less number, he would assert, there could -be no opportunity of the painter’s showing his art in composition, his -dexterity of managing and disposing the masses of light and groups of -figures, and of introducing a variety of Eastern dresses and characters -in their rich stuffs.</p> - -<p>But the thing is very different with a pupil of the greater schools. -Annibale Caracci thought twelve figures sufficient for any story: he -conceived that more would contribute to no end but to fill space; that -they would be but cold spectators of the general action, or, to use his -own expression, that they would be <i>figurers to be let</i>. Besides, it is -impossible for a picture composed of so many parts to have that effect -so indispensably necessary to grandeur, that of one complete whole. -However contradictory it may be in geometry, it is true in taste, that -many little things will not make a great one. The sublime impresses the -mind at once with one great idea; it is a single blow: the elegant -indeed may be produced by repetition; by an accumulation of many minute -circumstances.</p> - -<p>However great the difference is between the composition of the Venetian -and the rest of the Italian schools, there is full as great a disparity -in the effect of their pictures as produced by colours. And though in -this respect the Venetians must be allowed extraordinary skill, yet even -that skill, as they have employed it, will but ill correspond with the -great style. Their colouring is not only too brilliant, but, I will -venture to say, too harmonious, to produce that solidity, steadiness, -and simplicity of effect, which heroic subjects require, and which -simple or grave colours only can give to a work. That they are to be -cautiously studied by those who are ambitious of treading the great walk -of history is confirmed, if it wants confirmation, by the greatest<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51"></a>{51}</span> of -all authorities, Michael Angelo. This wonderful man, after having seen a -picture by Titian, told Vasari, who accompanied him,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> “that he liked -much his colouring and manner”; but then he added, “that it was a pity -the Venetian painters did not learn to draw correctly in their early -youth, and adopt a better <i>manner of study</i>.”</p> - -<p>By this it appears, that the principal attention of the Venetian -painters, in the opinion of Michael Angelo, seemed to be engrossed by -the study of colours, to the neglect of the <i>ideal beauty of form</i>, or -propriety of expression. But if general censure was given to that school -from the sight of a picture of Titian, how much more heavily and more -justly, would the censure fall on Paolo Veronese, and more especially on -Tintoret? And here I cannot avoid citing Vasari’s opinion of the style -and manner of Tintoret. “Of all the extraordinary geniuses,”<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> says he, -“that have practised the art of painting, for wild, capricious, -extravagant and fantastical inventions, for furious impetuosity and -boldness in the execution of his work, there is none like Tintoret; his -strange whimsies are even beyond extravagance, and his works seem to be -produced rather by chance, than in consequence of any previous design, -as if he wanted to convince the world<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52"></a>{52}</span> that the art was a trifle, and of -the most easy attainment.”</p> - -<p>For my own part, when I speak of the Venetian painters, I wish to be -understood to mean Paolo Veronese and Tintoret, to the exclusion of -Titian; for though his style is not so pure as that of many other of the -Italian schools, yet there is a sort of senatorial dignity about him, -which, however awkward in his imitators, seems to become him -exceedingly. His portraits alone, from the nobleness and simplicity of -character which he always gave them, will entitle him to the greatest -respect, as he undoubtedly stands in the first rank in this branch of -the art.</p> - -<p>It is not with Titian, but with the seducing qualities of the two -former, that I could wish to caution you against being too much -captivated. These are the persons who may be said to have exhausted all -the powers of florid eloquence, to debauch the young and inexperienced; -and have, without doubt, been the cause of turning off the attention of -the connoisseur and of the patron of art, as well as that of the -painter, from those higher excellences of which the art is capable, and -which ought to be required in every considerable production. By them, -and their imitators, a style merely ornamental has been disseminated -throughout all Europe. Rubens carried it to Flanders; Voet to France; -and Lucca Giordano to Spain and Naples.</p> - -<p>The Venetian is indeed the most splendid of the schools of elegance; and -it is not without reason, that the best performances in this lower -school are valued higher than the second-rate performances of those -above them: for every picture has value when it has a decided character, -and is excellent in its kind. But the student must take care not to be -so much dazzled with this splendour, as to be tempted to imitate what -must ultimately lead from<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53"></a>{53}</span> perfection. Poussin, whose eye was always -steadily fixed on the sublime, has been often heard to say, “That a -particular attention to colouring was an obstacle to the student, in his -progress to the great end and design of the art; and that he who -attaches himself to this principal end, will acquire by practice a -reasonable good method of colouring.”<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> - -<p>Though it be allowed that elaborate harmony of colouring, a brilliancy -of tints, a soft and gradual transition from one to another, present to -the eye, what an harmonious concert of music does to the ear, it must be -remembered, that painting is not merely a gratification of the sight. -Such excellence, though properly cultivated, where nothing higher than -elegance is intended, is weak and unworthy of regard, when the work -aspires to grandeur and sublimity.</p> - -<p>The same reasons that have been urged to show that a mixture of the -Venetian style cannot improve the great style, will hold good in regard -to the Flemish and Dutch schools. Indeed the Flemish school, of which -Rubens is the head, was formed upon that of the Venetian; like them, he -took his figures too much from the people before him. But it must be -allowed in favour of the Venetians, that he was more gross than they, -and carried all their mistaken methods to a far greater excess. In the -Venetian school itself, where they all err from the same cause, there is -a difference in the effect. The difference between Paolo and Bassano -seems to be only, that one introduced Venetian gentlemen into his -pictures, and the other the boors of the district of Bassano, and called -them patriarchs and prophets.</p> - -<p>The painters of the Dutch school have still more<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54"></a>{54}</span> locality. With them, a -history-piece is properly a portrait of themselves; whether they -describe the inside or outside of their houses, we have their own people -engaged in their own peculiar occupations; working or drinking, playing -or fighting. The circumstances that enter into a picture of this kind -are so far from giving a general view of human life, that they exhibit -all the minute particularities of a nation differing in several respects -from the rest of mankind. Yet, let them have their share of more humble -praise. The painters of this school are excellent in their own way; they -are only ridiculous when they attempt general history on their own -narrow principles, and debase great events by the meanness of their -characters.</p> - -<p>Some inferior dexterity, some extraordinary mechanical power is -apparently that from which they seek distinction. Thus, we see, that -school alone has the custom of representing candle-light not as it -really appears to us by night, but red, as it would illuminate objects -to a spectator by day. Such tricks, however pardonable in the little -style, where petty effects are the sole end, are inexcusable in the -greater, where the attention should never be drawn aside by trifles, but -should be entirely occupied by the subject itself.</p> - -<p>The same local principles which characterise the Dutch school extend -even to their landscape-painters; and Rubens himself, who has painted -many landscapes, has sometimes transgressed in this particular. Their -pieces in this way are, I think, always a representation of an -individual spot, and each in its kind a very faithful but a very -confined portrait. Claude Lorrain, on the contrary, was convinced, that -taking nature as he found it seldom produced beauty. His pictures are a -composition of the various drafts which he had previously made from -various beautiful scenes and prospects.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55"></a>{55}</span> However, Rubens in some measure -has made amends for the deficiency with which he is charged; he has -contrived to raise and animate his otherwise uninteresting views, by -introducing a rainbow, storm, or some particular accidental effect of -light. That the practice of Claude Lorrain, in respect to his choice, is -to be adopted by landscape-painters in opposition to that of the Flemish -and Dutch schools, there can be no doubt, as its truth is founded upon -the same principle as that by which the historical painter acquires -perfect form. But whether landscape-painting has a right to aspire so -far as to reject what the painters call accidents of nature, is not easy -to determine. It is certain Claude Lorrain seldom, if ever, availed -himself of those accidents; either he thought that such peculiarities -were contrary to that style of general nature which he professed, or -that it would catch the attention too strongly, and destroy that -quietness and repose which he thought necessary to that kind of -painting.</p> - -<p>A portrait-painter likewise, when he attempts history, unless he is upon -his guard, is likely to enter too much into the detail. He too -frequently makes his historical heads look like portraits; and this was -once the custom amongst those old painters, who revived the art before -general ideas were practised or understood. A history-painter paints man -in general; a portrait-painter, a particular man, and consequently a -defective model.</p> - -<p>Thus an habitual practice in the lower exercises of the art will prevent -many from attaining the greater. But such of us who move in these -humbler walks of the profession, are not ignorant that, as the natural -dignity of the subject is less, the more all the little ornamental helps -are necessary to its embellishment. It would be ridiculous for a painter -of domestic scenes, of portraits, landscapes, animals, or still life, to -say that he despised those qualities which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56"></a>{56}</span> have made the subordinate -schools so famous. The art of colouring, and the skilful management of -light and shadow, are essential requisites in his confined labours. If -we descend still lower, what is the painter of fruit and flowers without -the utmost art in colouring, and what the painters call handling; that -is, a lightness of pencil that implies great practice, and gives the -appearance of being done with ease? Some here, I believe, must remember -a flower-painter whose boast it was, that he scorned to paint for the -<i>million</i>: no, he professed to paint in the true Italian taste; and -despising the crowd, called strenuously upon the <i>few</i> to admire him. -His idea of the Italian taste was to paint as black and dirty as he -could, and to leave all clearness and brilliancy of colouring to those -who were fonder of money than immortality. The consequence was such as -might be expected. For these petty excellences are here essential -beauties; and without this merit the artist’s work will be more -short-lived than the objects of his imitation.</p> - -<p>From what has been advanced, we must now be convinced that there are two -distinct styles in history-painting: the grand, and the splendid or -ornamental.</p> - -<p>The great style stands alone, and does not require, perhaps does not so -well admit, any addition from inferior beauties. The ornamental style -also possesses its own peculiar merit. However, though the union of the -two may make a sort of composite style, yet that style is likely to be -more imperfect than either of those which go to its composition. Both -kinds have merit, and may be excellent though in different ranks, if -uniformity be preserved, and the general and particular ideas of nature -be not mixed. Even the meanest of them is difficult enough to attain; -and the first place being already occupied by the great artists in each -department,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57"></a>{57}</span> some of those who followed thought there was less room for -them, and feeling the impulse of ambition and the desire of novelty, and -being at the same time perhaps willing to take the shortest way, -endeavoured to make for themselves a place between both. This they have -effected by forming a union of the different orders. But as the grave -and majestic style would suffer by a union with the florid and gay, so -also has the Venetian ornament in some respect been injured by -attempting an alliance with simplicity.</p> - -<p>It may be asserted, that the great style is always more or less -contaminated by any meaner mixture. But it happens in a few instances, -that the lower may be improved by borrowing from the grand. Thus if a -portrait-painter is desirous to raise and improve his subject, he has no -other means than by approaching it to a general idea. He leaves out all -the minute breaks and peculiarities in the face, and changes the dress -from a temporary fashion to one more permanent, which has annexed to it -no ideas of meanness from its being familiar to us. But if an exact -resemblance of an individual be considered as the sole object to be -aimed at, the portrait-painter will be apt to lose more than he gains by -the acquired dignity taken from general nature. It is very difficult to -ennoble the character of a countenance but at the expense of the -likeness, which is what is most generally required by such as sit to the -painter.</p> - -<p>Of those who have practised the composite style, and have succeeded in -this perilous attempt, perhaps the foremost is Correggio. His style is -founded upon modern grace and elegance, to which is superadded something -of the simplicity of the grand style. A breadth of light and colour, the -general ideas of the drapery, an uninterrupted flow of outline, all -conspire to this effect. Next to him (perhaps equal to him) Parmegiano -has dignified the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58"></a>{58}</span> genteelness of modern effeminacy, by uniting it with -the simplicity of the ancients and the grandeur and severity of Michael -Angelo. It must be confessed, however, that these two extraordinary men, -by endeavouring to give the utmost degree of grace, have sometimes -perhaps exceeded its boundaries, and have fallen into the most hateful -of all hateful qualities, affectation. Indeed, it is the peculiar -characteristic of men of genius to be afraid of coldness and insipidity, -from which they think they never can be too far removed. It particularly -happens to these great masters of grace and elegance. They often boldly -drive on to the very verge of ridicule; the spectator is alarmed, but at -the same time admires their vigour and intrepidity:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Strange graces still, and stranger flights they had,<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . . . . . . . . -. . . . . </span><br /> -<span class="i0">Yet ne’er so sure our passion to create,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As when they touch’d the brink of all we hate.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>The errors of genius, however, are pardonable, and none even of the more -exalted painters are wholly free from them; but they have taught us, by -the rectitude of their general practice, to correct their own affected -or accidental deviation. The very first have not been always upon their -guard, and perhaps there is not a fault, but what may take shelter under -the most venerable authorities; yet that style only is perfect, in which -the noblest principles are uniformly pursued; and those masters only are -entitled to the first rank in our estimation, who have enlarged the -boundaries of their art, and have raised it to its highest dignity, by -exhibiting the general ideas of nature.</p> - -<p>On the whole, it seems to me that there is but one presiding principle, -which regulates and gives stability to every art. The works, whether of -poets, painters, moralists, or historians, which are built upon general -nature, live for ever; while those which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59"></a>{59}</span> depend for their existence on -particular customs and habits, a partial view of nature, or the -fluctuation of fashion, can only be coeval with that which first raised -them from obscurity. Present time and future may be considered as -rivals, and he who solicits the one must expect to be discountenanced by -the other.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_V" id="DISCOURSE_V"></a>DISCOURSE V<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1772.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">Circumspection required in endeavouring to unite Contrary -Excellencies.—The Expression of a Mixed Passion not to be -attempted.—Examples of those who excelled in the Great -Style;—Raffaelle, Michael Angelo: Those two Extraordinary Men -compared with each other. The Characteristical Style.—Salvator -Rosa mentioned as an Example of that Style; and opposed to Carlo -Maratti.—Sketch of the Characters of Poussin and Rubens: These two -Painters entirely Dissimilar, but Consistent with themselves. This -Consistency required in All Parts of the Art.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p>I <span class="smcap">purpose</span> to carry on in this discourse the subject which I began in my -last. It was my wish upon that occasion to incite you to pursue the -higher excellences of the art. But I fear that in this particular I have -been misunderstood. Some are ready to imagine, when any of their -favourite acquirements in the art are properly classed, that they are -utterly disgraced. This is a very great mistake: nothing has its proper -lustre but in its proper place. That which is most worthy of esteem in -its allotted sphere, becomes an object, not of respect, but of derision, -when it is forced into a higher, to which it is not suited; and there it -becomes doubly a source of disorder, by occupying a situation which is -not natural<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60"></a>{60}</span> to it, and by putting down from the first place what is in -reality of too much magnitude to become with grace and proportion that -subordinate station, to which something of less value would be much -better suited.</p> - -<p>My advice in a word is this: keep your principal attention fixed upon -the higher excellences. If you compass them, and compass nothing more, -you are still in the first class. We may regret the innumerable beauties -which you may want; you may be very imperfect; but still, you are an -imperfect artist of the highest order.</p> - -<p>If, when you have got thus far, you can add any, or all, of the -subordinate qualifications, it is my wish and advice that you should not -neglect them. But this is as much a matter of circumspection and -caution, at least, as of eagerness and pursuit.</p> - -<p>The mind is apt to be distracted by a multiplicity of objects; and that -scale of perfection, which I wish always to be preserved, is in the -greatest danger of being totally disordered, and even inverted.</p> - -<p>Some excellences bear to be united, and are improved by union; others -are of a discordant nature; and the attempt to join them only produces a -harsh jarring of incongruent principles. The attempt to unite contrary -excellences (of form, for instance) in a single figure, can never escape -degenerating into the monstrous, but by sinking into the insipid; by -taking away its marked character, and weakening its expression.</p> - -<p>This remark is true to a certain degree with regard to the passions. If -you mean to preserve the most perfect beauty <i>in its most perfect -state</i>, you cannot express the passions, all of which produce distortion -and deformity, more or less, in the most beautiful faces.</p> - -<p>Guido, from want of choice in adapting his subject to his ideas and his -powers, or from attempting<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61"></a>{61}</span> to preserve beauty where it could not be -preserved, has in this respect succeeded very ill. His figures are often -engaged in subjects that required great expression; yet his Judith and -Holofernes, the daughter of Herodias with the Baptist’s head, the -Andromeda, and some even of the Mothers of the Innocents, have little -more expression than his Venus attired by the Graces.</p> - -<p>Obvious as these remarks appear, there are many writers on our art, who, -not being of the profession, and consequently not knowing what can or -cannot be done, have been very liberal of absurd praises in their -descriptions of favourite works. They always find in them what they are -resolved to find. They praise excellences that can hardly exist -together; and above all things are fond of describing with great -exactness the expression of a mixed passion, which more particularly -appears to me out of the reach of our art.</p> - -<p>Such are many disquisitions which I have read on some of the cartoons -and other pictures of Raffaelle, where the critics have described their -own imaginations; or indeed where the excellent master himself may have -attempted this expression of passions above the powers of the art; and -has, therefore, by an indistinct and imperfect marking, left room for -every imagination, with equal probability, to find a passion of his own. -What has been, and what can be done in the art, is sufficiently -difficult; we need not be mortified or discouraged at not being able to -execute the conceptions of a romantic imagination. Art has its -boundaries, though imagination has none. We can easily, like the -ancients, suppose a Jupiter to be possessed of all those powers and -perfections which the subordinate deities were endowed with separately. -Yet, when they employed their art to represent him, they confined his -character to majesty alone. Pliny, therefore, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62"></a>{62}</span> we are under great -obligations to him for the information he has given us in relation to -the works of the ancient artists, is very frequently wrong when he -speaks of them, which he does very often, in the style of many of our -modern connoisseurs. He observes, that in a statue of Paris, by -Euphranor, you might discover at the same time three different -characters; the dignity of a Judge of the Goddesses, the Lover of Helen, -and the Conqueror of Achilles. A statue in which you endeavour to unite -stately dignity, youthful elegance, and stern valour, must surely -possess none of these to any eminent degree.</p> - -<p>From hence it appears, that there is much difficulty as well as danger, -in an endeavour to concentrate in a single subject those various powers, -which, rising from different points, naturally move in different -directions.</p> - -<p>The summit of excellence seems to be an assemblage of contrary -qualities, but mixed, in such proportions, that no one part is found to -counteract the other. How hard this is to be attained in every art, -those only know, who have made the greatest progress in their respective -professions.</p> - -<p>To conclude what I have to say on this part of the subject, which I -think of great importance, I wish you to understand, that I do not -discourage the younger students from the noble attempt of uniting all -the excellences of art; but suggest to them, that, besides the -difficulties which attend every arduous attempt, there is a peculiar -difficulty in the choice of the excellences which ought to be united. I -wish you to attend to this, that you may try yourselves, whenever you -are capable of that trial, what you can, and what you cannot do; and -that, instead of dissipating your natural faculties over the immense -field of possible excellence, you may choose some particular walk in -which you may exercise all your powers; in order that each of you<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63"></a>{63}</span> may -become the first in his way. If any man shall be master of such a -transcendent, commanding, and ductile genius, as to enable him to rise -to the highest, and to stoop to the lowest, flights of art, and to sweep -over all of them unobstructed and secure, he is fitter to give example -than to receive instruction.</p> - -<p>Having said thus much on the <i>union</i> of excellences, I will next say -something of the subordination in which various excellences ought to be -kept.</p> - -<p>I am of opinion, that the ornamental style, which in my discourse of -last year I cautioned you against, considering it as <i>principal</i>, may -not be wholly unworthy the attention even of those who aim at the grand -style, when it is properly placed and properly reduced.</p> - -<p>But this study will be used with far better effect, if its principles -are employed in softening the harshness and mitigating the rigour of the -great style, than if it attempt to stand forward with any pretensions of -its own to positive and original excellence. It was thus Lodovico -Caracci, whose example I formerly recommended to you, employed it. He -was acquainted with the works both of Correggio and the Venetian -painters, and knew the principles by which they produced those pleasing -effects which at the first glance prepossess us so much in their favour; -but he took only as much from each as would embellish, but not -overpower, that manly strength and energy of style, which is his -peculiar character.</p> - -<p>Since I have already expatiated so largely in my former discourse, and -in my present, upon the <i>styles</i> and <i>characters</i> of painting, it will -not be at all unsuitable to my subject if I mention to you some -particulars relative to the leading principles and capital works of -those who excelled in the <i>great style</i>; that I may bring you from -abstraction nearer<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64"></a>{64}</span> to practice, and by exemplifying the positions which -I have laid down, enable you to understand more clearly what I would -enforce.</p> - -<p>The principal works of modern art are in <i>fresco</i>, a mode of painting -which excludes attention to minute elegances: yet these works in fresco -are the productions on which the fame of the greatest masters depends: -such are the pictures of Michael Angelo and Raffaelle in the Vatican; to -which we may add the cartoons; which, though not strictly to be called -fresco, yet may be put under that denomination; and such are the works -of Giulio Romano at Mantua. If these performances were destroyed, with -them would be lost the best part of the reputation of those illustrious -painters; for these are justly considered as the greatest efforts of our -art which the world can boast. To these, therefore, we should -principally direct our attention for higher excellences. As for the -lower arts, as they have been once discovered, they may be easily -attained by those possessed of the former.</p> - -<p>Raffaelle, who stands in general foremost of the first painters, owes -his reputation, as I have observed, to his excellence in the higher -parts of the art: his works in <i>fresco</i>, therefore, ought to be the -first object of our study and attention. His easel-works stand in a -lower degree of estimation: for though he continually, to the day of his -death, embellished his performances more and more with the addition of -those lower ornaments, which entirely make the merit of some painters, -yet he never arrived at such perfection as to make him an object of -imitation. He never was able to conquer perfectly that dryness, or even -littleness of manner, which he inherited from his master. He never -acquired that nicety of taste in colours, that breadth of light and -shadow, that art and management of uniting light to light, and shadow to -shadow, so as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65"></a>{65}</span> to make the object rise out of the ground with that -plenitude of effect so much admired in the works of Correggio. When he -painted in oil, his hand seemed to be so cramped and confined, that he -not only lost that facility and spirit, but I think even that -correctness of form, which is so perfect and admirable in his -fresco-works. I do not recollect any pictures of his of this kind, -except perhaps the Transfiguration, in which there are not some parts -that appear to be even feebly drawn. That this is not a necessary -attendant on oil-painting, we have abundant instances in more modern -painters. Lodovico Caracci, for instance, preserved in his works in oil -the same spirit, vigour, and correctness which he had in fresco. I have -no desire to degrade Raffaelle from the high rank which he deservedly -holds: but by comparing him with himself, he does not appear to me to be -the same man in oil as in fresco.</p> - -<p>From those who have ambition to tread in this great walk of the art, -Michael Angelo claims the next attention. He did not possess so many -excellences as Raffaelle, but those which he had were of the highest -kind. He considered the art as consisting of little more than what may -be attained by sculpture: correctness of form, and energy of character. -We ought not to expect more than an artist intends in his work. He never -attempted those lesser elegances and graces in the art. Vasari says, he -never painted but one picture in oil, and resolved never to paint -another, saying, it was an employment only fit for women and children.</p> - -<p>If any man had a right to look down upon the lower accomplishments as -beneath his attention, it was certainly Michael Angelo; nor can it be -thought strange, that such a mind should have slighted or have been -withheld from paying due attention to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66"></a>{66}</span> all those graces and -embellishments of art, which have diffused such lustre over the works of -other painters.</p> - -<p>It must be acknowledged, however, that together with these, which we -wish he had more attended to, he has rejected all the false, though -specious ornaments, which disgrace the works even of the most esteemed -artists; and I will venture to say, that when those higher excellences -are more known and cultivated by the artists and the patrons of arts, -his fame and credit will increase with our increasing knowledge. His -name will then be held in the same veneration as it was in the -enlightened age of Leo the Tenth: and it is remarkable that the -reputation of this truly great man has been continually declining as the -art itself has declined. For I must remark to you, that it has long been -much on the decline, and that our only hope of its revival will consist -in your being thoroughly sensible of its depravation and decay. It is to -Michael Angelo, that we owe even the existence of Raffaelle: it is to -him Raffaelle owes the grandeur of his style. He was taught by him to -elevate his thoughts, and to conceive his subjects with dignity. His -genius, however formed to blaze and to shine, might, like fire in -combustible matter, for ever have lain dormant, if it had not caught a -spark by its contact with Michael Angelo: and though it never burst out -with <i>his</i> extraordinary heat and vehemence, yet it must be acknowledged -to be a more pure, regular, and chaste flame. Though our judgment must -upon the whole decide in favour of Raffaelle, yet he never takes such a -firm hold and entire possession of the mind as to make us desire nothing -else, and to feel nothing wanting. The effect of the capital works of -Michael Angelo perfectly corresponds to what Bouchardon said he felt -from reading Homer; his whole frame appeared to himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67"></a>{67}</span> to be enlarged, -and all nature which surrounded him, diminished to atoms.</p> - -<p>If we put these great artists in a light of comparison with each other, -Raffaelle had more taste and fancy, Michael Angelo more genius and -imagination. The one excelled in beauty, the other in energy. Michael -Angelo has more of the poetical inspiration; his ideas are vast and -sublime; his people are a superior order of beings; there is nothing -about them, nothing in the air of their actions or their attitudes, or -the style and cast of their limbs or features, that reminds us of their -belonging to our own species. Raffaelle’s imagination is not so -elevated; his figures are not so much disjoined from our own diminutive -race of beings, though his ideas are chaste, noble, and of great -conformity to their subjects. Michael Angelo’s works have a strong, -peculiar, and marked character: they seem to proceed from his own mind -entirely, and that mind so rich and abundant, that he never needed, or -seemed to disdain, to look abroad for foreign help. Raffaelle’s -materials are generally borrowed, though the noble structure is his own. -The excellency of this extraordinary man lay in the propriety, beauty, -and majesty of his characters, the judicious contrivance of his -composition, his correctness of drawing, purity of taste, and skilful -accommodation of other men’s conceptions to his own purpose. Nobody -excelled him in that judgment, with which he united to his own -observations on nature, the energy of Michael Angelo, and the beauty and -simplicity of the antique. To the question, therefore, which ought to -hold the first rank, Raffaelle or Michael Angelo, it must be answered, -that if it is to be given to him who possessed a greater combination of -the higher qualities of the art than any other man, there is no doubt -but Raffaelle is the first.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68"></a>{68}</span> But if, as Longinus thinks, the sublime, -being the highest excellence that human composition can attain to, -abundantly compensates the absence of every other beauty, and atones for -all other deficiencies, then Michael Angelo demands the preference.</p> - -<p>These two extraordinary men carried some of the higher excellences of -the art to a greater degree of perfection than probably they ever -arrived at before. They certainly have not been excelled, nor equalled -since. Many of their successors were induced to leave this great road as -a beaten path, endeavouring to surprise and please by something uncommon -or new. When this desire of novelty has proceeded from mere idleness or -caprice, it is not worth the trouble of criticism; but when it has been -the result of a busy mind of a peculiar complexion, it is always -striking and interesting, never insipid.</p> - -<p>Such is the great style, as it appears in those who possessed it at its -height: in this, search after novelty, in conception or in treating the -subject, has no place.</p> - -<p>But there is another style, which, though inferior to the former, has -still great merit, because it shows that those who cultivated it were -men of lively and vigorous imagination. This, which may be called the -original or characteristical style, being less referred to any true -archetype existing either in general or particular nature, must be -supported by the painter’s consistency in the principles which he has -assumed, and in the union and harmony of his whole design. The -excellency of every style, but of the subordinate styles more -especially, will very much depend on preserving that union and harmony -between all the component parts, that they may appear to hang well -together, as if the whole proceeded from one mind. It is in the works of -art, as in the characters of men. The faults or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69"></a>{69}</span> defects of some men -seem to become them, when they appear to be the natural growth, and of a -piece with the rest of their character. A faithful picture of a mind, -though it be not of the most elevated kind, though it be irregular, -wild, and incorrect, yet if it be marked with that spirit and firmness -which characterises works of genius, will claim attention, and be more -striking than a combination of excellences that do not seem to unite -well together; or we may say, than a work that possesses even all -excellences, but those in a moderate degree.</p> - -<p>One of the strongest-marked characters of this kind, which must be -allowed to be subordinate to the great style, is that of Salvator Rosa. -He gives us a peculiar cast of nature, which, though void of all grace, -elegance, and simplicity, though it has nothing of that elevation and -dignity which belongs to the grand style, yet has that sort of dignity -which belongs to savage and uncultivated nature: but what is most to be -admired in him is the perfect correspondence which he observed between -the subjects which he chose and his manner of treating them. Everything -is of a piece: his rocks, trees, sky, even to his handling, have the -same rude and wild character which animates his figures.</p> - -<p>With him we may contrast the character of Carlo Maratti, who, in my -opinion, had no great vigour of mind or strength of original genius. He -rarely seizes the imagination by exhibiting the higher excellences, nor -does he captivate us by that originality which attends the painter who -thinks for himself. He knew and practised all the rules of art, and from -a composition of Raffaelle, Caracci, and Guido, made up a style, of -which the only fault was, that it had no manifest defects and no -striking beauties; and that the principles of his composition<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70"></a>{70}</span> are never -blended together, so as to form one uniform body, original in its kind, -or excellent in any view.</p> - -<p>I will mention two other painters, who, though entirely dissimilar, yet -by being each consistent with himself, and possessing a manner entirely -his own, have both gained reputation, though for very opposite -accomplishments. The painters I mean are Rubens and Poussin. Rubens I -mention in this place, as I think him a remarkable instance of the same -mind being seen in all the various parts of the art. The whole is so -much of a piece, that one can scarce be brought to believe but that if -any one of the qualities he possessed had been more correct and perfect, -his works would not have been so complete as they now appear. If we -should allow him a greater purity and correctness of drawing, his want -of simplicity in composition, colouring, and drapery would appear more -gross.</p> - -<p>In his composition his art is too apparent. His figures have expression, -and act with energy, but without simplicity or dignity. His colouring, -in which he is eminently skilled, is notwithstanding too much of what we -call tinted. Throughout the whole of his works, there is a -proportionable want of that nicety of distinction and elegance of mind, -which is required in the higher walks of painting; and to this want it -may be in some degree ascribed, that those qualities which make the -excellency of this subordinate style, appear in him with their greatest -lustre. Indeed the facility with which he invented, the richness of his -composition, the luxuriant harmony and brilliancy of his colouring, so -dazzle the eye, that whilst his works continue before us, we cannot help -thinking that all his deficiencies are fully supplied.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71"></a>{71}</span></p> - -<p>Opposed to this florid, careless, loose, and inaccurate style, that of -the simple, careful, pure, and correct style of Poussin seems to be a -complete contrast. Yet however opposite their characters, in one thing -they agreed; both of them always preserving a perfect correspondence -between all the parts of their respective manners: insomuch that it may -be doubted whether any alteration of what is considered as defective in -either, would not destroy the effect of the whole.</p> - -<p>Poussin lived and conversed with the ancient statues so long, that he -may be said to have been better acquainted with them, than with the -people who were about him. I have often thought that he carried his -veneration for them so far as to wish to give his works the air of -ancient paintings. It is certain he copied some of the antique -paintings, particularly the Marriage in the Aldobrandini Palace at Rome, -which I believe to be the best relic of those remote ages that has yet -been found.</p> - -<p>No works of any modern has so much of the air of antique painting as -those of Poussin. His best performances have a remarkable dryness of -manner, which though by no means to be recommended for imitation, yet -seems perfectly correspondent to that ancient simplicity which -distinguishes his style. Like Polidoro, he studied the ancients so much, -that he acquired a habit of thinking in their way, and seemed to know -perfectly the actions and gestures they would use on every occasion.</p> - -<p>Poussin in the latter part of his life changed from his dry manner to -one much softer and richer, where there is a greater union between the -figures and ground; as in the Seven Sacraments in the Duke of Orleans’s -collection; but neither these, nor any of his other pictures in this -manner, are at all comparable<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72"></a>{72}</span> to many in his dry manner which we have -in England.</p> - -<p>The favourite subjects of Poussin were ancient fables; and no painter -was ever better qualified to paint such subjects, not only from his -being eminently skilled in the knowledge of the ceremonies, customs and -habits of the ancients, but from his being so well acquainted with the -different characters which those who invented them gave to their -allegorical figures. Though Rubens has shown great fancy in his Satyrs, -Silenuses, and Fauns, yet they are not that distinct separate class of -beings, which is carefully exhibited by the ancients, and by Poussin. -Certainly when such subjects of antiquity are represented, nothing in -the picture ought to remind us of modern times. The mind is thrown back -into antiquity, and nothing ought to be introduced that may tend to -awaken it from the illusion.</p> - -<p>Poussin seemed to think that the style and the language in which such -stories are told, is not the worse for preserving some relish of the old -way of painting, which seemed to give a general uniformity to the whole, -so that the mind was thrown back into antiquity not only by the subject, -but the execution.</p> - -<p>If Poussin in imitation of the ancients represents Apollo driving his -chariot out of the sea by way of representing the sun rising, if he -personifies lakes and rivers, it is nowise offensive in him; but seems -perfectly of a piece with the general air of the picture. On the -contrary, if the figures which people his pictures had a modern air or -countenance, if they appeared like our countrymen, if the draperies were -like cloth or silk of our manufacture, if the landscape had the -appearance of a modern view, how ridiculous would Apollo appear instead -of the sun; an old man, or a nymph with an urn, to represent a river or -a lake!</p> - -<p>I cannot avoid mentioning here a circumstance in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73"></a>{73}</span> portrait-painting, -which may help to confirm what has been said. When a portrait is painted -in the historical style, as it is neither an exact minute representation -of an individual, nor completely ideal, every circumstance ought to -correspond to this mixture. The simplicity of the antique air and -attitude, however much to be admired, is ridiculous when joined to a -figure in a modern dress. It is not to my purpose to enter into the -question at present, whether this mixed style ought to be adopted or -not; yet if it is chosen, ’tis necessary it should be complete and all -of a piece: the difference of stuffs, for instance, which make the -clothing, should be distinguished in the same degree as the head -deviates from a general idea. Without this union, which I have so often -recommended, a work can have no marked and determined character, which -is the peculiar and constant evidence of genius. But when this is -accomplished to a high degree, it becomes in some sort a rival to that -style which we have fixed as the highest.</p> - -<p>Thus I have given a sketch of the characters of Rubens and Salvator -Rosa, as they appear to me to have the greatest uniformity of mind -throughout their whole work. But we may add to these, all those artists -who are at the head of a class, and have had a school of imitators, from -Michael Angelo down to Watteau. Upon the whole it appears, that setting -aside the ornamental style, there are two different modes, either of -which a student may adopt without degrading the dignity of his art. The -object of the first is, to combine the higher excellences and embellish -them to the greatest advantage; of the other, to carry one of these -excellences to the highest degree. But those who possess neither must be -classed with them, who, as Shakspeare says, are <i>men of no mark or -likelihood</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74"></a>{74}</span></p> - -<p>I inculcate as frequently as I can your forming yourselves upon great -principles and great models. Your time will be much mis-spent in every -other pursuit. Small excellences should be viewed, not studied; they -ought to be viewed, because nothing ought to escape a painter’s -observation: but for no other reason.</p> - -<p>There is another caution which I wish to give you. Be as select in those -whom you endeavour to please, as in those whom you endeavour to imitate. -Without the love of fame you can never do anything excellent; but by an -excessive and undistinguishing thirst after it, you will come to have -vulgar views; you will degrade your style; and your taste will be -entirely corrupted. It is certain that the lowest style will be the most -popular, as it falls within the compass of ignorance itself; and the -vulgar will always be pleased with what is natural, in the confined and -misunderstood sense of the word.</p> - -<p>One would wish that such depravation of taste should be counteracted -with that manly pride which actuated Euripides when he said to the -Athenians who criticised his works, “I do not compose my works in order -to be corrected by you, but to instruct you.” It is true, to have a -right to speak thus, a man must be a Euripides. However, thus much may -be allowed, that when an artist is sure that he is upon firm ground, -supported by the authority and practice of his predecessors of the -greatest reputation, he may then assume the boldness and intrepidity of -genius; at any rate he must not be tempted out of the right path by any -allurement of popularity, which always accompanies the lower styles of -painting.</p> - -<p>I mention this, because our exhibitions, while they produce such -admirable effects by nourishing emulation, and calling out genius, have -also a mischievous tendency, by seducing the painter to an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75"></a>{75}</span> ambition of -pleasing indiscriminately the mixed multitude of people who resort to -them.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_VI" id="DISCOURSE_VI"></a>DISCOURSE VI<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1774.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">Imitation.—Genius begins where Rules end.—Invention:—Acquired by -being conversant with the Inventions of Others.—The True Method of -Imitating.—Borrowing, how far allowable.—Something to be gathered -from every School.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> I have taken the liberty of addressing you on the course and order -of your studies, I never proposed to enter into a minute detail of the -art. This I have always left to the several professors, who pursue the -end of our institution with the highest honour to themselves, and with -the greatest advantage to the students.</p> - -<p>My purpose in the discourses I have held in the Academy has been to lay -down certain general positions, which seem to me proper for the -formation of a sound taste: principles necessary to guard the pupils -against those errors, into which the sanguine temper common to their -time of life has a tendency to lead them; and which have rendered -abortive the hopes of so many successions of promising young men in all -parts of Europe. I wished also, to intercept and suppress those -prejudices which particularly prevail when the mechanism of painting is -come to its perfection; and which, when they do prevail, are certain -utterly to destroy the higher and more valuable parts of this literate -and liberal profession.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76"></a>{76}</span></p> - -<p>These two have been my principal purposes; they are still as much my -concern as ever; and if I repeat my own notions on the subject, you who -know how fast mistake and prejudice, when neglected, gain ground upon -truth and reason, will easily excuse me. I only attempt to set the same -thing in the greatest variety of lights.</p> - -<p>The subject of this discourse will be Imitation, as far as a painter is -concerned in it. By imitation, I do not mean imitation in its largest -sense, but simply the following of other masters, and the advantage to -be drawn from the study of their works.</p> - -<p>Those who have undertaken to write on our art, and have represented it -as a kind of <i>inspiration</i>, as a <i>gift</i> bestowed upon peculiar -favourites at their birth, seem to insure a much more favourable -disposition from their readers, and have a much more captivating and -liberal air, than he who attempts to examine, coldly, whether there are -any means by which this art may be acquired; how the mind may be -strengthened and expanded, and what guides will show the way to -eminence.</p> - -<p>It is very natural for those who are unacquainted with the <i>cause</i> of -anything extraordinary, to be astonished at the <i>effect</i>, and to -consider it as a kind of magic. They, who have never observed the -gradation by which art is acquired; who see only what is the full result -of long labour and application of an infinite number and infinite -variety of acts, are apt to conclude from their entire inability to do -the same at once, that it is not only inaccessible to themselves, but -can be done by those only who have some gift of the nature of -inspiration bestowed upon them.</p> - -<p>The travellers into the East tell us, that when the ignorant inhabitants -of those countries are asked concerning the ruins of stately edifices -yet remaining amongst them, the melancholy monuments of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77"></a>{77}</span> their former -grandeur and long-lost science, they always answer, that they were built -by magicians. The untaught mind finds a vast gulf between its own -powers, and those works of complicated art, which it is utterly unable -to fathom; and it supposes that such a void can be passed only by -supernatural powers.</p> - -<p>And, as for artists themselves, it is by no means their interest to -undeceive such judges, however conscious they may be of the very natural -means by which their extraordinary powers were acquired; though our art, -being intrinsically imitative, rejects this idea of inspiration, more -perhaps than any other.</p> - -<p>It is to avoid this plain confession of truth, as it should seem, that -this imitation of masters, indeed almost all imitation, which implies a -more regular and progressive method of attaining the ends of painting, -has ever been particularly inveighed against with great keenness, both -by ancient and modern writers.</p> - -<p>To derive all from native power, to owe nothing to another, is the -praise which men, who do not much think on what they are saying, bestow -sometimes upon others, and sometimes on themselves; and their imaginary -dignity is naturally heightened by a supercilious censure of the low, -the barren, the grovelling, the servile imitator. It would be no wonder -if a student, frightened by these terrific and disgraceful epithets, -with which the poor imitators are so often loaded, should let fall his -pencil in mere despair (conscious as he must be, how much he has been -indebted to the labours of others, how little, how very little of his -art was born with him); and consider it as hopeless, to set about -acquiring by the imitation of any human master, what he is taught to -suppose is matter of inspiration from heaven.</p> - -<p>Some allowance must be made for what is said in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78"></a>{78}</span> the gaiety of rhetoric. -We cannot suppose that anyone can really mean to exclude all imitation -of others. A position so wild would scarce deserve a serious answer; for -it is apparent, if we were forbid to make use of the advantages which -our predecessors afford us, the art would be always to begin, and -consequently remain always in its infant state; and it is a common -observation, that no art was ever invented and carried to perfection at -the same time.</p> - -<p>But to bring us entirely to reason and sobriety, let it be observed, -that a painter must not only be of necessity an imitator of the works of -nature, which alone is sufficient to dispel this phantom of inspiration, -but he must be as necessarily an imitator of the works of other -painters: this appears more humiliating, but is equally true; and no man -can be an artist, whatever he may suppose, upon any other terms.</p> - -<p>However, those who appear more moderate and reasonable allow that our -study is to begin by imitation; but maintain that we should no longer -use the thoughts of our predecessors, when we are become able to think -for ourselves. They hold that imitation is as hurtful to the more -advanced student, as it was advantageous to the beginner.</p> - -<p>For my own part, I confess, I am not only very much disposed to maintain -the absolute necessity of imitation in the first stages of the art; but -am of opinion, that the study of other masters, which I here call -imitation, may be extended throughout our whole lives, without any -danger of the inconveniences with which it is charged, of enfeebling the -mind, or preventing us from giving that original air which every work -undoubtedly ought always to have.</p> - -<p>I am on the contrary persuaded, that by imitation only, variety, and -even originality of invention, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79"></a>{79}</span> produced. I will go further; even -genius, at least what generally is so called, is the child of imitation. -But as this appears to be contrary to the general opinion, I must -explain my position before I enforce it.</p> - -<p>Genius is supposed to be a power of producing excellences, which are out -of the reach of the rules of art; a power which no precepts can teach, -and which no industry can acquire.</p> - -<p>This opinion of the impossibility of acquiring those beauties, which -stamp the work with the character of genius, supposes that it is -something more fixed than in reality it is; and that we always do, and -ever did agree in opinion, with respect to what should be considered as -the characteristic of genius. But the truth is, that the <i>degree</i> of -excellence which proclaims <i>genius</i> is different, in different times and -different places; and what shows it to be so is, that mankind have often -changed their opinion upon this matter.</p> - -<p>When the arts were in their infancy, the power of merely drawing the -likeness of any object was considered as one of its greatest efforts. -The common people, ignorant of the principles of art, talk the same -language even to this day. But when it was found that every man could be -taught to do this, and a great deal more, merely by the observance of -certain precepts; the name of genius then shifted its application, and -was given only to him who added the peculiar character of the object he -represented; to him who had invention, expression, grace, or dignity; in -short, those qualities, or excellences, the power of producing which -could not <i>then</i> be taught by any known and promulgated rules.</p> - -<p>We are very sure that the beauty of form, the expression of the -passions, the art of composition, even the power of giving a general air -of grandeur to a work, is at present very much under the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80"></a>{80}</span> dominion of -rules. These excellences were, heretofore, considered merely as the -effects of genius; and justly, if genius is not taken for inspiration, -but as the effect of close observation and experience.</p> - -<p>He who first made any of these observations, and digested them, so as to -form an invariable principle for himself to work by, had that merit, but -probably no one went very far at once; and generally, the first who gave -the hint, did not know how to pursue it steadily and methodically; at -least not in the beginning. He himself worked on it, and improved it; -others worked more, and improved further; until the secret was -discovered, and the practice made as general, as refined practice can be -made. How many more principles may be fixed and ascertained, we cannot -tell; but as criticism is likely to go hand in hand with the art which -is its subject, we may venture to say, that as that art shall advance, -its powers will be still more and more fixed by rules.</p> - -<p>But by whatever strides criticism may gain ground, we need be under no -apprehension, that invention will ever be annihilated, or subdued; or -intellectual energy be brought entirely within the restraint of written -law. Genius will still have room enough to expatiate, and keep always at -the same distance from narrow comprehension and mechanical performance.</p> - -<p>What we now call genius begins, not where rules, abstractedly taken, -end; but where known vulgar and trite rules have no longer any place. It -must of necessity be, that even works of genius, like every other -effect, as they must have their cause, must likewise have their rules; -it cannot be by chance, that excellences are produced with any constancy -or any certainty, for this is not the nature of chance; but the rules by -which men of extraordinary<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81"></a>{81}</span> parts, and such as are called men of genius, -work, are either such as they discover by their own peculiar -observations, or of such a nice texture as not easily to admit being -expressed in words; especially as artists are not very frequently -skilful in that mode of communicating ideas. Unsubstantial, however, as -these rules may seem, and difficult as it may be to convey them in -writing, they are still seen and felt in the mind of the artist; and he -works from them with as much certainty, as if they were embodied, as I -may say, upon paper. It is true, these refined principles cannot be -always made palpable, like the more gross rules of art; yet it does not -follow, but that the mind may be put in such a train, that it shall -perceive, by a kind of scientific sense, that propriety, which words, -particularly words of unpractised writers, such as we are, can but very -feebly suggest.</p> - -<p>Invention is one of the great marks of genius; but if we consult -experience, we shall find, that it is by being conversant with the -inventions of others, that we learn to invent; as by reading the -thoughts of others we learn to think.</p> - -<p>Whoever has so far formed his taste, as to be able to relish and feel -the beauties of the great masters, has gone a great way in his study; -for, merely from a consciousness of this relish of the right, the mind -swells with an inward pride, and is almost as powerfully affected, as if -it had itself produced what it admires. Our hearts, frequently warmed in -this manner by the contact of those whom we wish to resemble, will -undoubtedly catch something of their way of thinking; and we shall -receive in our own bosoms some radiation at least of their fire and -splendour. That disposition, which is so strong in children, still -continues with us, of catching involuntarily the general air and manner -of those with whom we are most conversant; with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82"></a>{82}</span> this difference only, -that a young mind is naturally pliable and imitative; but in a more -advanced state it grows rigid, and must be warmed and softened, before -it will receive a deep impression.</p> - -<p>From these considerations, which a little of your own reflection will -carry a great way further, it appears, of what great consequence it is, -that our minds should be habituated to the contemplation of excellence; -and that, far from being contented to make such habits the discipline of -our youth only, we should, to the last moment of our lives, continue a -settled intercourse with all the true examples of grandeur. Their -inventions are not only the food of our infancy, but the substance which -supplies the fullest maturity of our vigour.</p> - -<p>The mind is but a barren soil; a soil which is soon exhausted, and will -produce no crop, or only one, unless it be continually fertilised and -enriched with foreign matter.</p> - -<p>When we have had continually before us the great works of art to -impregnate our minds with kindred ideas, we are then, and not till then, -fit to produce something of the same species. We behold all about us -with the eyes of those penetrating observers whose works we contemplate; -and our minds, accustomed to think the thoughts of the noblest and -brightest intellects, are prepared for the discovery and selection of -all that is great and noble in nature. The greatest natural genius -cannot subsist on its own stock: he who resolves never to ransack any -mind but his own, will be soon reduced, from mere barrenness, to the -poorest of all imitations; he will be obliged to imitate himself, and to -repeat what he has before often repeated. When we know the subject -designed by such men, it will never be difficult to guess what kind of -work is to be produced.</p> - -<p>It is vain for painters or poets to endeavour to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83"></a>{83}</span> invent without -materials on which the mind may work, and from which invention must -originate. Nothing can come of nothing.</p> - -<p>Homer is supposed to be possessed of all the learning of his time: and -we are certain that Michael Angelo and Raffaelle were equally possessed -of all the knowledge in the art which had been discovered in the works -of their predecessors.</p> - -<p>A mind enriched by an assemblage of all the treasures of ancient and -modern art will be more elevated and fruitful in resources, in -proportion to the number of ideas which have been carefully collected -and thoroughly digested. There can be no doubt but that he who has the -most materials has the greatest means of invention; and if he has not -the power of using them, it must proceed from a feebleness of intellect, -or from the confused manner in which those collections have been laid up -in his mind.</p> - -<p>The addition of other men’s judgment is so far from weakening our own, -as is the opinion of many, that it will fashion and consolidate those -ideas of excellence which lay in embryo, feeble, ill-shaped, and -confused, but which are finished and put in order by the authority and -practice of those, whose works may be said to have been consecrated by -having stood the test of ages.</p> - -<p>The mind, or genius, has been compared to a spark of fire, which is -smothered by a heap of fuel, and prevented from blazing into a flame. -This simile, which is made use of by the younger Pliny, may be easily -mistaken for argument or proof. But there is no danger of the mind’s -being overburdened with knowledge, or the genius extinguished by any -addition of images; on the contrary, these acquisitions may as well, -perhaps better, be compared, if comparisons signified anything in -reasoning, to the supply of living embers, which will<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84"></a>{84}</span> contribute to -strengthen the spark, that without the association of more fuel would -have died away. The truth is, he whose feebleness is such, as to make -other men’s thoughts an incumbrance to him, can have no very great -strength of mind or genius of his own to be destroyed; so that not much -harm will be done at worst.</p> - -<p>We may oppose to Pliny the greater authority of Cicero, who is -continually enforcing the necessity of this method of study. In his -dialogue on Oratory, he makes Crassus say, that one of the first and -most important precepts is, to choose a proper model for our imitation. -<i>Hoc sit primum in præceptis meis, ut demonstremus quem imitemur.</i></p> - -<p>When I speak of the habitual imitation and continued study of masters, -it is not to be understood, that I advise any endeavour to copy the -exact peculiar colour and complexion of another man’s mind; the success -of such an attempt must always be like his, who imitates exactly the -air, manner, and gestures, of him whom he admires. His model may be -excellent, but the copy will be ridiculous; this ridicule does not arise -from his having imitated, but from his not having chosen the right mode -of imitation.</p> - -<p>It is necessary and warrantable pride to disdain to walk servilely -behind any individual, however elevated his rank. The true and liberal -ground of imitation is an open field; where, though he who precedes has -had the advantage of starting before you, you may always propose to -overtake him: it is enough, however, to pursue his course; you need not -tread in his footsteps; and you certainly have a right to outstrip him -if you can.</p> - -<p>Nor whilst I recommend studying the art from artists, can I be supposed -to mean, that nature is to be neglected: I take this study in aid, and -not in exclusion, of the other. Nature is, and must be the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85"></a>{85}</span> fountain -which alone is inexhaustible; and from which all excellences must -originally flow.</p> - -<p>The great use of studying our predecessors is, to open the mind, to -shorten our labour, and to give us the result of the selection made by -those great minds of what is grand or beautiful in nature: her rich -stores are all spread out before us; but it is an art, and no easy art, -to know how or what to choose, and how to attain and secure the object -of our choice. Thus the highest beauty of form must be taken from -nature; but it is an art of long deduction, and great experience, to -know how to find it. We must not content ourselves with merely admiring -and relishing; we must enter into the principles on which the work is -wrought: these do not swim on the superficies, and consequently are not -open to superficial observers.</p> - -<p>Art in its perfection is not ostentatious; it lies hid, and works its -effect, itself unseen. It is the proper study and labour of an artist to -uncover and find out the latent cause of conspicuous beauties, and from -thence form principles of his own conduct: such an examination is a -continual exertion of the mind; as great, perhaps, as that of the artist -whose works he is thus studying.</p> - -<p>The sagacious imitator does not content himself with merely remarking -what distinguishes the different manner or genius of each master; he -enters into the contrivance in the composition how the masses of lights -are disposed, the means by which the effect is produced, how artfully -some parts are lost in the ground, others boldly relieved, and how all -these are mutually altered and interchanged according to the reason and -scheme of the work. He admires not the harmony of colouring alone, but -examines by what artifice one colour is a foil to its neighbour. He -looks close into the tints, examines of what colours they are composed, -till he has formed clear<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86"></a>{86}</span> and distinct ideas, and has learned to see in -what harmony and good colouring consists. What is learned in this manner -from the works of others, becomes really our own, sinks deep, and is -never forgotten; nay, it is by seizing on this clue that we proceed -forward, and get further and further in enlarging the principles and -improving the practice of our art.</p> - -<p>There can be no doubt, but the art is better learnt from the works -themselves, than from the precepts which are formed upon those works; -but if it is difficult to choose proper models for imitation, it -requires no less circumspection to separate and distinguish what in -those models we ought to imitate.</p> - -<p>I cannot avoid mentioning here, though it is not my intention at present -to enter into the art and method of study, an error which students are -too apt to fall into. He that is forming himself, must look with great -caution and wariness on those peculiarities, or prominent parts, which -at first force themselves upon view; and are the marks, or what is -commonly called the manner, by which that individual artist is -distinguished.</p> - -<p>Peculiar marks, I hold to be, generally, if not always, defects; however -difficult it may be wholly to escape them.</p> - -<p>Peculiarities in the works of art are like those in the human figure: it -is by them that we are cognisable and distinguished one from another, -but they are always so many blemishes; which, however, both in real life -and in painting, cease to appear deformities, to those who have them -continually before their eyes. In the works of art, even the most -enlightened mind, when warmed by beauties of the highest kind, will by -degrees find a repugnance within him to acknowledge any defects; nay, -his enthusiasm will carry him so far, as to transform them into -beauties, and objects of imitation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87"></a>{87}</span></p> - -<p>It must be acknowledged, that a peculiarity of style, either from its -novelty, or by seeming to proceed from a peculiar turn of mind, often -escapes blame; on the contrary, it is sometimes striking and pleasing: -but this it is a vain labour to endeavour to imitate; because novelty -and peculiarity being its only merit, when it ceases to be new, it -ceases to have value.</p> - -<p>A manner therefore being a defect, and every painter, however excellent, -having a manner, it seems to follow, that all kinds of faults, as well -as beauties, may be learned under the sanction of the greatest -authorities. Even the great name of Michael Angelo may be used, to keep -in countenance a deficiency or rather neglect of colouring, and every -other ornamental part of the art. If the young student is dry and hard, -Poussin is the same. If his work has a careless and unfinished air, he -has most of the Venetian school to support him. If he makes no selection -of objects, but takes individual nature just as he finds it, he is like -Rembrandt. If he is incorrect in the proportions of his figures, -Correggio was likewise incorrect. If his colours are not blended and -united, Rubens was equally crude. In short, there is no defect that may -not be excused, if it is a sufficient excuse that it can be imputed to -considerable artists; but it must be remembered, that it was not by -these defects they acquired their reputation; they have a right to our -pardon, but not to our admiration.</p> - -<p>However, to imitate peculiarities or mistake defects for beauties, that -man will be most liable, who confines his imitation to one favourite -master; and even though he chooses the best, and is capable of -distinguishing the real excellences of his model, it is not by such -narrow practice, that a genius or mastery in the art is acquired. A man -is as little likely to form a true idea of the perfection of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88"></a>{88}</span> art, -by studying a single artist, as he would be to produce a perfectly -beautiful figure, by an exact imitation of any individual living model. -And as the painter, by bringing together in one piece, those beauties -which are dispersed among a great variety of individuals, produces a -figure more beautiful than can be found in nature, so that artist who -can unite in himself the excellences of the various great painters, will -approach nearer to perfection than any one of his masters. He, who -confines himself to the imitation of an individual, as he never proposes -to surpass, so he is not likely to equal, the object of his imitation. -He professes only to follow; and he that follows must necessarily be -behind.</p> - -<p>We should imitate the conduct of the great artists in the course of -their studies, as well as the works which they produced, when they were -perfectly formed. Raffaelle began by imitating implicitly the manner of -Pietro Perugino, under whom he studied; hence his first works are scarce -to be distinguished from his master’s; but soon forming higher and more -extensive views, he imitated the grand outline of Michael Angelo; he -learned the manner of using colours from the works of Leonardo da Vinci, -and Fratre Bartolomeo: to all this he added the contemplation of all the -remains of antiquity that were within his reach; and employed others to -draw for him what was in Greece and distant places. And it is from his -having taken so many models, that he became himself a model for all -succeeding painters; always imitating, and always original.</p> - -<p>If your ambition, therefore, be to equal Raffaelle, you must do as -Raffaelle did; take many models, and not even <i>him</i> for your guide -alone, to the exclusion of others.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> And yet the number is infinite<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89"></a>{89}</span> of -those who seem, if one may judge by their style, to have seen no other -works but those of their master, or of some favourite, whose <i>manner</i> is -their first wish, and their last.</p> - -<p>I will mention a few that occur to me of this narrow, confined, -illiberal, unscientific, and servile kind of imitators. Guido was thus -meanly copied by Elizabetta, Sirani, and Simone Cantarina; Poussin, by -Verdier and Cheron; Parmeggiano, by Jeronimo Mazzuoli. Paolo Veronese -and Iacomo Bassan had for their imitators their brothers and sons. -Pietro da Cortona was followed by Ciro Ferri and Romanelli; Rubens, by -Jacques Jordaens and Diepenbeke; Guercino, by his own family, the -Gennari. Carlo Maratti was imitated by Giuseppe Chiari and Pietro da -Pietri; and Rembrandt, by Bramer, Eeckhout, and Flink. All these, to -whom may be added a much longer list of painters, whose works among the -ignorant pass for those of their masters, are justly to be censured for -barrenness and servility.</p> - -<p>To oppose to this list a few that have adopted a more liberal style of -imitation;—Pellegrino Tibaldi, Rosso, and Primaticcio, did not coldly -imitate, but caught something of the fire that animates the works of -Michael Angelo. The Caraccis formed their style from Pellegrino Tibaldi, -Correggio, and the Venetian school. Domenichino, Guido, Lanfranco, -Albano, Guercino, Cavidone, Schidone, Tiarini, though it is sufficiently -apparent that they came from the school of the Caraccis, have yet the -appearance of men who extended their views beyond the model that lay -before them, and have shown that they had opinions of their own, and -thought for themselves, after they had made themselves masters of the -general principles of their schools.</p> - -<p>Le Sueur’s first manner resembles very much that of his master Voüet: -but as he soon excelled him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90"></a>{90}</span> so he differed from him in every part of -the art. Carlo Maratti succeeded better than those I have first named, -and I think owes his superiority to the extension of his views; beside -his master Andrea Sacchi, he imitated Raffaelle, Guido, and the -Caraccis. It is true, there is nothing very captivating in Carlo -Maratti; but this proceeded from a want which cannot be completely -supplied; that is, want of strength of parts. In this certainly men are -not equal; and a man can bring home wares only in proportion to the -capital with which he goes to market. Carlo, by diligence, made the most -of what he had; but there was undoubtedly a heaviness about him, which -extended itself, uniformly, to his invention, expression, his drawing, -colouring, and the general effect of his pictures. The truth is, he -never equalled any of his patterns in any one thing, and he added little -of his own.</p> - -<p>But we must not rest contented even in this general study of the -moderns; we must trace back the art to its fountain-head; to that source -from whence they drew their principal excellences, the monuments of pure -antiquity. All the inventions and thoughts of the ancients, whether -conveyed to us in statues, bas-reliefs, intaglios, cameos, or coins, are -to be sought after and carefully studied; the genius that hovers over -these venerable relics, may be called the father of modern art.</p> - -<p>From the remains of the works of the ancients the modern arts were -revived, and it is by their means that they must be restored a second -time. However it may mortify our vanity, we must be forced to allow them -our masters; and we may venture to prophesy, that when they shall cease -to be studied, arts will no longer flourish, and we shall again relapse -into barbarism.</p> - -<p>The fire of the artist’s own genius operating upon these materials which -have been thus diligently<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91"></a>{91}</span> collected, will enable him to make new -combinations, perhaps, superior to what had ever before been in the -possession of the art: as in the mixture of the variety of metals, which -are said to have been melted and run together at the burning of Corinth, -a new and till then unknown metal was produced, equal in value to any of -those that had contributed to its composition. And though a curious -refiner should come with his crucibles, analyse and separate its various -component parts, yet Corinthian brass would still hold its rank amongst -the most beautiful and valuable of metals.</p> - -<p>We have hitherto considered the advantages of imitation as it tends to -form the taste, and as a practice by which a spark of that genius may be -caught, which illumines those noble works that ought always to be -present to our thoughts.</p> - -<p>We come now to speak of another kind of imitation; the borrowing a -particular thought, an action, attitude, or figure, and transplanting it -into your own work; this will either come under the charge of -plagiarism, or be warrantable, and deserve commendation, according to -the address with which it is performed. There is some difference -likewise, whether it is upon the ancients or moderns that these -depredations are made. It is generally allowed, that no man need be -ashamed of copying the ancients: their works are considered as a -magazine of common property, always open to the public, whence every man -has a right to take what materials he pleases; and if he has the art of -using them, they are supposed to become to all intents and purposes his -own property. The collection of the thoughts of the ancients, which -Raffaelle made with so much trouble, is a proof of his opinion on this -subject. Such collections may be made with much more ease, by means of -an art scarce known in his time; I mean that of engraving; by which, at -an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92"></a>{92}</span> easy rate, every man may now avail himself of the inventions of -antiquity.</p> - -<p>It must be acknowledged that the works of the moderns are more the -property of their authors. He, who borrows an idea from an ancient, or -even from a modern artist not his contemporary, and so accommodates it -to his own work, that it makes a part of it, with no seam or joining -appearing, can hardly be charged with plagiarism: poets practise this -kind of borrowing, without reserve. But an artist should not be -contented with this only; he should enter into a competition with his -original, and endeavour to improve what he is appropriating to his own -work. Such imitation is so far from having anything in it of the -servility of plagiarism, that it is a perpetual exercise of the mind, a -continual invention. Borrowing or stealing with such art and caution -will have a right to the same lenity as was used by the Lacedemonians; -who did not punish theft, but the want of artifice to conceal it.</p> - -<p>In order to encourage you to imitation, to the utmost extent, let me -add, that very finished artists in the inferior branches of the art will -contribute to furnish the mind and give hints, of which a skilful -painter, who is sensible of what he wants, and is in no danger of being -infected by the contact of vicious models, will know how to avail -himself. He will pick up from dung-hills what by a nice chemistry, -passing through his own mind, shall be converted into pure gold; and -under the rudeness of Gothic essays, he will find original, rational, -and even sublime inventions.</p> - -<p>The works of Albert Dürer, Lucas Van Leyden, the numerous inventions of -Tobias Stimmer and Jost Ammon, afford a rich mass of genuine materials, -which wrought up and polished to elegance, will add copiousness to what, -perhaps, without<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93"></a>{93}</span> such aid, could have aspired only to justness and -propriety.</p> - -<p>In the luxuriant style of Paul Veronese, in the capricious compositions -of Tintoret, he will find something that will assist his invention, and -give points, from which his own imagination shall rise and take flight, -when the subject which he treats will with propriety admit of splendid -effects.</p> - -<p>In every school, whether Venetian, French, or Dutch, he will find, -either ingenious compositions, extraordinary effects, some peculiar -expressions, or some mechanical excellence, well worthy of his -attention, and, in some measure, of his imitation. Even in the lower -class of the French painters great beauties are often found, united with -great defects. Though Coypel wanted a simplicity of taste, and mistook a -presumptuous and assuming air for what is grand and majestic; yet he -frequently has good sense and judgment in his manner of telling his -stories, great skill in his compositions, and is not without a -considerable power of expressing the passions. The modern affectation of -grace in his works, as well as in those of Bosch and Watteau, may be -said to be separated, by a very thin partition, from the more simple and -pure grace of Correggio and Parmegiano.</p> - -<p>Among the Dutch painters, the correct, firm, and determined pencil, -which was employed by Bamboccio and Jean Miel, on vulgar and mean -subjects, might, without any change, be employed on the highest; to -which, indeed, it seems more properly to belong. The greatest style, if -that style is confined to small figures, such as Poussin generally -painted, would receive an additional grace by the elegance and precision -of pencil so admirable in the works of Teniers; and though the school to -which he belonged more particularly excelled in the mechanism of -painting; yet it produced many, who have shown<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94"></a>{94}</span> great abilities in -expressing what must be ranked above mechanical excellences. In the -works of Frans Hals, the portrait-painter may observe the composition of -a face, the features well put together, as the painters express it; from -whence proceeds that strong-marked character of individual nature, which -is so remarkable in his portraits, and is not found in an equal degree -in any other painter. If he had joined to this most difficult part of -the art, a patience in finishing what he had so correctly planned, he -might justly have claimed the place which Vandyck, all things -considered, so justly holds as the first of portrait-painters.</p> - -<p>Others of the same school have shown great power in expressing the -character and passions of those vulgar people, which were the subjects -of their study and attention. Among those Jan Steen seems to be one of -the most diligent and accurate observers of what passed in those scenes -which he frequented, and which were to him an academy. I can easily -imagine, that if this extraordinary man had had the good fortune to have -been born in Italy instead of Holland, had he lived in Rome instead of -Leyden, and been blessed with Michael Angelo and Raffaelle for his -masters instead of Brouwer and Van Goyen; the same sagacity and -penetration which distinguished so accurately the different characters -and expression in his vulgar figures, would, when exerted in the -selection and imitation of what was great and elevated in nature, have -been equally successful; and he now would have ranged with the great -pillars and supporters of our art.</p> - -<p>Men who, although thus bound down by the almost invincible powers of -early habits, have still exerted extraordinary abilities within their -narrow and confined circle; and have, from the natural vigour of their -mind, given a very interesting expression and great force and energy to -their works; though they<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95"></a>{95}</span> cannot be recommended to be exactly imitated, -may yet invite an artist to endeavour to transfer, by a kind of parody, -their excellences to his own performances. Whoever has acquired the -power of making this use of the Flemish, Venetian, and French schools, -is a real genius, and has sources of knowledge open to him which were -wanting to the great artists who lived in the great age of painting.</p> - -<p>To find excellences, however dispersed; to discover beauties, however -concealed by the multitude of defects with which they are surrounded, -can be the work only of him who, having a mind always alive to his art, -has extended his views to all ages and to all schools; and has acquired -from that comprehensive mass which he has thus gathered to himself, a -well-digested and perfect idea of his art, to which everything is -referred. Like a sovereign judge and arbiter of art, he is possessed of -that presiding power which separates and attracts every excellence from -every school; selects both from what is great, and what is little; -brings home knowledge from the East and from the West; making the -universe tributary towards furnishing his mind and enriching his works -with originality and variety of inventions.</p> - -<p>Thus I have ventured to give my opinion of what appears to me the true -and only method by which an artist makes himself master of his -profession; which I hold ought to be one continued course of imitation, -that is not to cease but with his life.</p> - -<p>Those, who either from their own engagements and hurry of business, or -from indolence, or from conceit and vanity, have neglected looking out -of themselves, as far as my experience and observation reaches, have -from that time, not only ceased to advance, and improve in their -performances, but have gone backward. They may be compared to men who -have lived upon their principal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96"></a>{96}</span> till they are reduced to beggary, and -left without resources.</p> - -<p>I can recommend nothing better, therefore, than that you endeavour to -infuse into your works what you learn from the contemplation of the -works of others. To recommend this has the appearance of needless and -superfluous advice; but it has fallen within my own knowledge, that -artists, though they were not wanting in a sincere love for their art, -though they had great pleasure in seeing good pictures, and were well -skilled to distinguish what was excellent or defective in them, yet have -gone on in their own manner, without any endeavour to give a little of -those beauties, which they admired in others, to their own works. It is -difficult to conceive how the present Italian painters, who live in the -midst of the treasures of art, should be contented with their own style. -They proceed in their commonplace inventions, and never think it worth -while to visit the works of those great artists with which they are -surrounded.</p> - -<p>I remember, several years ago, to have conversed at Rome with an artist -of great fame throughout Europe; he was not without a considerable -degree of abilities, but those abilities were by no means equal to his -own opinion of them. From the reputation he had acquired, he too fondly -concluded that he stood in the same rank, when compared with his -predecessors, as he held with regard to his miserable contemporary -rivals. In conversation about some particulars of the works of -Raffaelle, he seemed to have, or to affect to have, a very obscure -memory of them. He told me that he had not set his foot in the Vatican -for fifteen years together; that he had been in treaty to copy a capital -picture of Raffaelle, but that the business had gone off; however, if -the agreement had held, his copy would have greatly exceeded the -original. The merit of this artist, however great we may suppose it, I -am<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97"></a>{97}</span> sure would have been far greater, and his presumption would have -been far less, if he had visited the Vatican, as in reason he ought to -have done, at least once every month of his life.</p> - -<p>I address myself, gentlemen, to you who have made some progress in the -art, and are to be, for the future, under the guidance of your own -judgment and discretion. I consider you as arrived at that period, when -you have a right to think for yourselves, and to presume that every man -is fallible; to study the masters with a suspicion, that great men are -not always exempt from great faults; to criticise, compare, and rank -their works in your own estimation, as they approach to, or recede from, -that standard of perfection which you have formed in your own minds, but -which those masters themselves, it must be remembered, have taught you -to make; and which you will cease to make with correctness, when you -cease to study them. It is their excellences which have taught you their -defects.</p> - -<p>I would wish you to forget where you are, and who it is that speaks to -you; I only direct you to higher models and better advisers. We can -teach you here but very little; you are henceforth to be your own -teachers. Do this justice, however, to the English Academy; to bear in -mind, that in this place you contracted no narrow habits, no false -ideas, nothing that could lead you to the imitation of any living -master, who may be the fashionable darling of the day. As you have not -been taught to flatter us, do not learn to flatter yourselves. We have -endeavoured to lead you to the admiration of nothing but what is truly -admirable. If you choose inferior patterns, or if you make your own -<i>former</i> works your patterns for your <i>latter</i>, it is your own fault.</p> - -<p>The purport of this discourse, and, indeed, of most of my other -discourses, is, to caution you against that false opinion, but too -prevalent among<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98"></a>{98}</span> artists, of the imaginary powers of native genius, and -its sufficiency in great works. This opinion, according to the temper of -mind it meets with, almost always produces, either a vain confidence, or -a sluggish despair, both equally fatal to all proficiency.</p> - -<p>Study therefore the great works of the great masters, for ever. Study as -nearly as you can, in the order, in the manner, and on the principles, -on which they studied. Study nature attentively, but always with those -masters in your company; consider them as models which you are to -imitate, and at the same time as rivals with whom you are to contend.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_VII" id="DISCOURSE_VII"></a>DISCOURSE VII<br /><br /> - -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the -Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1776.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">The Reality of a Standard of Taste, as well as of Corporal Beauty. -Besides this Immutable Truth, there are Secondary Truths, which are -Variable; both requiring the Attention of the Artist, in Proportion -to their Stability or their Influence.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> has been my uniform endeavour, since I first addressed you from this -place, to impress you strongly with one ruling idea. I wished you to be -persuaded, that success in your art depends almost entirely on your own -industry; but the industry which I principally recommended, is not the -industry of the <i>hands</i>, but of the <i>mind</i>.</p> - -<p>As our art is not a divine <i>gift</i>, so neither is it a mechanical -<i>trade</i>. Its foundations are laid in solid science: and practice, though -essential to perfection,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99"></a>{99}</span> can never attain that to which it aims, unless -it works under the direction of principle.</p> - -<p>Some writers upon art carry this point too far, and suppose that such a -body of universal and profound learning is requisite, that the very -enumeration of its kinds is enough to frighten a beginner. Vitruvius, -after going through the many accomplishments of nature, and the many -acquirements of learning, necessary to an architect, proceeds with great -gravity to assert that he ought to be well skilled in the civil law; -that he may not be cheated in the title of the ground he builds on. But -without such exaggeration we may go so far as to assert that a painter -stands in need of more knowledge than is to be picked off his palette, -or collected by looking on his model, whether it be in life or in -picture. He can never be a great artist, who is grossly illiterate.</p> - -<p>Every man whose business is description ought to be tolerably conversant -with the poets, in some language or other; that he may imbibe a poetical -spirit, and enlarge his stock of ideas. He ought to acquire a habit of -comparing and digesting his notions. He ought not to be wholly -unacquainted with that part of philosophy which gives an insight into -human nature, and relates to the manners, characters, passions, and -affections. He ought to know <i>something</i> concerning the mind, as well as -<i>a great deal</i> concerning the body of man. For this purpose, it is not -necessary that he should go into such a compass of reading, as must, by -distracting his attention, disqualify him for the practical part of his -profession, and make him sink the performer in the critic. Reading, if -it can be made the favourite recreation of his leisure hours, will -improve and enlarge his mind, without retarding his actual industry. -What such partial and desultory reading cannot afford, may be supplied -by the conversation of learned and ingenious men, which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a>{100}</span> the best of -all substitutes for those who have not the means or opportunities of -deep study. There are many such men in this age; and they will be -pleased with communicating their ideas to artists, when they see them -curious and docile, if they are treated with that respect and deference -which is so justly their due. Into such society, young artists, if they -make it the point of their ambition, will by degrees be admitted. There, -without formal teaching, they will insensibly come to feel and reason -like those they live with, and find a rational and systematic taste -imperceptibly formed in their minds, which they will know how to reduce -to a standard, by applying general truth to their own purposes, better -perhaps than those to whom they owed the original sentiment.</p> - -<p>Of these studies, and this conversation, the desire and legitimate -offspring is a power of distinguishing right from wrong; which power, -applied to works of art, is denominated Taste. Let me then, without -further introduction, enter upon an examination, whether taste be so far -beyond our reach, as to be unattainable by care; or be so very vague and -capricious, that no care ought to be employed about it.</p> - -<p>It has been the fate of arts to be enveloped in mysterious and -incomprehensible language, as if it was thought necessary that even the -terms should correspond to the idea entertained of the instability and -uncertainty of the rules which they expressed.</p> - -<p>To speak of genius and taste, as in any way connected with reason or -common sense, would be, in the opinion of some towering talkers, to -speak like a man who possessed neither; who had never felt that -enthusiasm, or, to use their own inflated language, was never warmed by -that Promethean fire, which animates the canvas and vivifies the marble.</p> - -<p>If, in order to be intelligible, I appear to degrade art by bringing her -down from her visionary situation<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a>{101}</span> in the clouds, it is only to give her -a more solid mansion upon the earth. It is necessary that at some time -or other we should see things as they really are, and not impose on -ourselves by that false magnitude with which objects appear when viewed -indistinctly as through a mist.</p> - -<p>We will allow a poet to express his meaning, when his meaning is not -well known to himself, with a certain degree of obscurity, as it is one -source of the sublime. But when, in plain prose, we gravely talk of -courting the Muse in shady bowers; waiting the call and inspiration of -genius, finding out where he inhabits, and where he is to be invoked -with the greatest success; of attending to times and seasons when the -imagination shoots with the greatest vigour, whether at the summer -solstice or the vernal equinox; sagaciously observing how much the wild -freedom and liberty of imagination is cramped by attention to -established rules; and how this same imagination begins to grow dim in -advanced age, smothered and deadened by too much judgment; when we talk -such language, or entertain such sentiments as these, we generally rest -contented with mere words, or at best entertain notions not only -groundless but pernicious.</p> - -<p>If all this means, what it is very possible was originally intended only -to be meant, that in order to cultivate an art, a man secludes himself -from the commerce of the world, and retires into the country at -particular seasons; or that at one time of the year his body is in -better health, and consequently his mind fitter for the business of hard -thinking than at another time; or that the mind may be fatigued and grow -confused by long and unremitted application; this I can understand. I -can likewise believe, that a man eminent when young for possessing -poetical imagination, may, from having taken another road, so neglect -its cultivation, as to show less of its<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a>{102}</span> powers in his latter life. But -I am persuaded, that scarce a poet is to be found, from Homer down to -Dryden, who preserved a sound mind in a sound body, and continued -practising his profession to the very last, whose latter works are not -as replete with the fire of imagination, as those which were produced in -his more youthful days.</p> - -<p>To understand literally these metaphors or ideas expressed in poetical -language seems to be equally absurd as to conclude, that because -painters sometimes represent poets writing from the dictates of a little -winged boy or genius, that this same genius did really inform him in a -whisper what he was to write; and that he is himself but a mere machine, -unconscious of the operations of his own mind.</p> - -<p>Opinions generally received and floating in the world, whether true or -false, we naturally adopt and make our own; they may be considered as a -kind of inheritance to which we succeed and are tenants for life, and -which we leave to our posterity very nearly in the condition in which we -received it; it not being much in any one man’s power either to impair -or improve it. The greatest part of these opinions, like current coin in -its circulation, we are used to take without weighing or examining; but -by this inevitable inattention many adulterated pieces are received, -which, when we seriously estimate our wealth, we must throw away. So the -collector of popular opinions, when he embodies his knowledge, and forms -a system, must separate those which are true from those which are only -plausible. But it becomes more peculiarly a duty to the professors of -art not to let any opinions relating to <i>that</i> art pass unexamined. The -caution and circumspection required in such examination we shall -presently have an opportunity of explaining.</p> - -<p>Genius and taste, in their common acceptation, appear to be very nearly -related; the difference lies<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a>{103}</span> only in this, that genius has superadded -to it a habit or power of execution: or we may say, that taste, when -this power is added, changes its name, and is called genius. They both, -in the popular opinion, pretend to an entire exemption from the -restraint of rules. It is supposed that their powers are intuitive; that -under the name of genius great works are produced, and under the name of -taste an exact judgment is given, without our knowing why, and without -our being under the least obligation to reason, precept, or experience.</p> - -<p>One can scarce state these opinions without exposing their absurdity; -yet they are constantly in the mouths of men, and particularly of -artists. They who have thought seriously on this subject do not carry -the point so far; yet I am persuaded, that even among those few who may -be called thinkers, the prevalent opinion allows less than it ought to -the powers of reason; and considers the principles of taste, which give -all their authority to the rules of art, as more fluctuating, and as -having less solid foundations, than we shall find, upon examination, -they really have.</p> - -<p>The common saying, that <i>tastes are not to be disputed</i>, owes its -influence, and its general reception, to the same error which leads us -to imagine this faculty of too high an original to submit to the -authority of an earthly tribunal. It likewise corresponds with the -notions of those who consider it as a mere phantom of the imagination, -so devoid of substance as to elude all criticism.</p> - -<p>We often appear to differ in sentiments from each other, merely from the -inaccuracy of terms, as we are not obliged to speak always with critical -exactness. Something of this too may arise from want of words in the -language in which we speak, to express the more nice discriminations -which a deep investigation discovers. A great deal, however, of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a>{104}</span> this -difference vanishes when each opinion is tolerably explained and -understood, by constancy and precision in the use of terms.</p> - -<p>We apply the term Taste to that act of the mind by which we like or -dislike, whatever be the subject. Our judgment upon an airy nothing, a -fancy which has no foundation, is called by the same name which we give -to our determination concerning those truths which refer to the most -general and most unalterable principles of human nature; to the works -which are only to be produced by the greatest efforts of the human -understanding. However inconvenient this may be, we are obliged to take -words as we find them; all we can do is to distinguish the things to -which they are applied.</p> - -<p>We may let pass those things which are at once subjects of taste and -sense, and which, having as much certainty as the senses themselves, -give no occasion to inquiry or dispute. The natural appetite or taste of -the human mind is for Truth; whether that truth results from the real -agreement or equality of original ideas among themselves; from the -agreement of the representation of any object with the thing -represented; or from the correspondence of the several parts of any -arrangement with each other. It is the very same taste which relishes a -demonstration in geometry, that is pleased with the resemblance of a -picture to an original, and touched with the harmony of music.</p> - -<p>All these have unalterable and fixed foundations in nature, and are -therefore equally investigated by reason, and known by study; some with -more, some with less clearness, but all exactly in the same way. A -picture that is unlike is false. Disproportionate ordonnance of parts is -not right; because it cannot be true, until it ceases to be a -contradiction to assert, that the parts have no relation to the whole. -Colouring is true, when it is naturally<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a>{105}</span> adapted to the eye, from -brightness, from softness, from harmony, from resemblance; because these -agree with their object, Nature, and therefore are true; as true as -mathematical demonstration; but known to be true only to those who study -these things.</p> - -<p>But besides real, there is also apparent truth, or opinion, or -prejudice. With regard to real truth, when it is known, the taste which -conforms to it is, and must be, uniform. With regard to the second sort -of truth, which may be called truth upon sufferance, or truth by -courtesy, it is not fixed, but variable. However, whilst these opinions -and prejudices, on which it is founded, continue, they operate as truth; -and the art, whose office it is to please the mind, as well as instruct -it, must direct itself according to opinion, or it will not attain its -end.</p> - -<p>In proportion as these prejudices are known to be generally diffused, or -long received, the taste which conforms to them approaches nearer to -certainty, and to a sort of resemblance to real science, even where -opinions are found to be no better than prejudices. And since they -deserve, on account of their duration and extent, to be considered as -really true, they become capable of no small degree of stability and -determination, by their permanent and uniform nature.</p> - -<p>As these prejudices become more narrow, more local, more transitory, -this secondary taste becomes more and more fantastical; recedes from -real science; is less to be approved by reason, and less followed in -practice; though in no case perhaps to be wholly neglected, where it -does not stand, as it sometimes does, in direct defiance of the most -respectable opinions received amongst mankind.</p> - -<p>Having laid down these positions, I shall proceed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a>{106}</span> with less method, -because less will serve to explain and apply them.</p> - -<p>We will take it for granted, that reason is something invariable and -fixed in the nature of things; and without endeavouring to go back to an -account of first principles, which for ever will elude our search, we -will conclude, that whatever goes under the name of taste, which we can -fairly bring under the dominion of reason, must be considered as equally -exempt from change. If therefore, in the course of this inquiry, we can -show that there are rules for the conduct of the artist which are fixed -and invariable, it follows of course, that the art of the connoisseur, -or, in other words, taste, has likewise invariable principles.</p> - -<p>Of the judgment which we make on the works of art, and the preference -that we give to one class of art over another, if a reason be demanded, -the question is perhaps evaded by answering, I judge from my taste; but -it does not follow that a better answer cannot be given, though, for -common gazers, this may be sufficient. Every man is not obliged to -investigate the causes of his approbation or dislike.</p> - -<p>The arts would lie open for ever to caprice and casualty, if those who -are to judge of their excellences had no settled principles by which -they are to regulate their decisions, and the merit or defect of -performances were to be determined by unguided fancy. And indeed we may -venture to assert, that whatever speculative knowledge is necessary to -the artist, is equally and indispensably necessary to the connoisseur.</p> - -<p>The first idea that occurs in the consideration of what is fixed in art, -or in taste, is that presiding principle of which I have so frequently -spoken in former discourses—the general idea of nature. The beginning, -the middle, and the end of everything that is valuable in taste, is -comprised in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a>{107}</span> the knowledge of what is truly nature; for whatever -notions are not conformable to those of nature, or universal opinion, -must be considered as more or less capricious.</p> - -<p>My notion of nature comprehends not only the forms which nature -produces, but also the nature and internal fabric and organisation, as I -may call it, of the human mind and imagination. The terms beauty, or -nature, which are general ideas, are but different modes of expressing -the same thing, whether we apply these terms to statues, poetry, or -pictures. Deformity is not nature, but an accidental deviation from her -accustomed practice. This general idea therefore ought to be called -nature; and nothing else, correctly speaking, has a right to that name. -But we are so far from speaking, in common conversation, with any such -accuracy, that, on the contrary, when we criticise Rembrandt and other -Dutch painters, who introduced into their historical pictures exact -representations of individual objects with all their imperfections, we -say,—though it is not in a good taste, yet it is nature.</p> - -<p>This misapplication of terms must be very often perplexing to the young -student. Is not art, he may say, an imitation of nature? Must he not -therefore, who imitates her with the greatest fidelity, be the best -artist? By this mode of reasoning Rembrandt has a higher place than -Raffaelle. But a very little reflection will serve to show us, that -these particularities cannot be nature: for how can that be the nature -of man, in which no two individuals are the same?</p> - -<p>It plainly appears, that as a work is conducted under the influence of -general ideas, or partial, it is principally to be considered as the -effect of a good or a bad taste.</p> - -<p>As beauty therefore does not consist in taking<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a>{108}</span> what lies immediately -before you, so neither, in our pursuit of taste, are those opinions -which we first received and adopted, the best choice, or the most -natural to the mind and imagination. In the infancy of our knowledge we -seize with greediness the good that is within our reach; it is by -after-consideration, and in consequence of discipline, that we refuse -the present for a greater good at a distance. The nobility or elevation -of all arts, like the excellence of virtue itself, consists in adopting -this enlarged and comprehensive idea; and all criticism built upon the -more confined view of what is natural, may properly be called <i>shallow</i> -criticism, rather than false: its defect is, that the truth is not -sufficiently extensive.</p> - -<p>It has sometimes happened, that some of the greatest men in our art have -been betrayed into errors by this confined mode of reasoning. Poussin, -who, upon the whole, may be produced as an artist strictly attentive to -the most enlarged and extensive ideas of nature, from not having settled -principles on this point, has in one instance at least, I think, -deserted truth for prejudice. He is said to have vindicated the conduct -of Giulio Romano for his inattention to the masses of light and shade, -or grouping the figures in the Battle of Constantine, as if designedly -neglected, the better to correspond with the hurry and confusion of a -battle. Poussin’s own conduct in many of his pictures makes us more -easily give credit to this report. That it was too much his own -practice, the Sacrifice to Silenus, and the Triumph of Bacchus and -Ariadne,<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> may be produced as instances; but this principle is still -more apparent, and may be said to be even more ostentatiously displayed, -in his Perseus and Medusa’s Head.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a>{109}</span></p> - -<p>This is undoubtedly a subject of great bustle and tumult, and that the -first effect of the picture may correspond to the subject, every -principle of composition is violated; there is no principal figure, no -principal light, no groups; everything is dispersed, and in such a state -of confusion, that the eye finds no repose anywhere. In consequence of -the forbidding appearance, I remember turning from it with disgust, and -should not have looked a second time, if I had not been called back to a -closer inspection. I then indeed found, what we may expect always to -find in the works of Poussin, correct drawing, forcible expression, and -just character; in short, all the excellences which so much distinguish -the works of this learned painter.</p> - -<p>This conduct of Poussin I hold to be entirely improper to imitate. A -picture should please at first sight, and appear to invite the -spectator’s attention: if on the contrary the general effect offends the -eye, a second view is not always sought, whatever more substantial and -intrinsic merit it may possess.</p> - -<p>Perhaps no apology ought to be received for offences committed against -the vehicle (whether it be the organ of seeing or of hearing) by which -our pleasures are conveyed to the mind. We must take care that the eye -be not perplexed and distracted by a confusion of equal parts, or equal -lights, or offended by an unharmonious mixture of colours, as we should -guard against offending the ear by unharmonious sounds. We may venture -to be more confident of the truth of this observation, since we find -that Shakspeare, on a parallel occasion, has made Hamlet recommend to -the players a precept of the same kind,—never to offend the ear by -harsh sounds: <i>In the very torrent, tempest, and whirlwind of your -passion</i>, says he, <i>you must acquire and beget a temperance that may -give it smoothness</i>. And yet, at the same time, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a>{110}</span> very justly -observes, <i>The end of playing, both at the first and now, was and is, to -hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature</i>. No one can deny, that violent -passions will naturally emit harsh and disagreeable tones: yet this -great poet and critic thought that this imitation of nature would cost -too much, if purchased at the expense of disagreeable sensations, or, as -he expresses it, of <i>splitting the ear</i>. The poet and actor, as well as -the painter of genius who is well acquainted with all the variety and -sources of pleasure in the mind and imagination, has little regard or -attention to common nature, or creeping after common sense. By -overleaping those narrow bounds, he more effectually seizes the whole -mind, and more powerfully accomplishes his purpose. This success is -ignorantly imagined to proceed from inattention to all rules, and a -defiance of reason and judgment; whereas it is in truth acting according -to the best rules and the justest reason.</p> - -<p>He who thinks nature, in the narrow sense of the word, is alone to be -followed, will produce but a scanty entertainment for the imagination: -everything is to be done with which it is natural for the mind to be -pleased, whether it proceeds from simplicity or variety, uniformity or -irregularity; whether the scenes are familiar or exotic; rude and wild, -or enriched and cultivated; for it is natural for the mind to be pleased -with all these in their turn. In short, whatever pleases has in it what -is analogous to the mind, and is therefore, in the highest and best -sense of the word, natural.</p> - -<p>It is the sense of nature or truth, which ought more particularly to be -cultivated by the professors of art; and it may be observed, that many -wise and learned men, who have accustomed their minds to admit nothing -for truth but what can be proved by mathematical demonstration, have -seldom any relish for those arts which address themselves to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a>{111}</span> fancy, -the rectitude and truth of which is known by another kind of proof: and -we may add, that the acquisition of this knowledge requires as much -circumspection and sagacity, as is necessary to attain those truths -which are more capable of demonstration. Reason must ultimately -determine our choice on every occasion; but this reason may still be -exerted ineffectually by applying to taste principles which, though -right as far as they go, yet do not reach the object. No man, for -instance, can deny, that it seems at first view very reasonable, that a -statue which is to carry down to posterity the resemblance of an -individual, should be dressed in the fashion of the times, in the dress -which he himself wore: this would certainly be true, if the dress were -part of the man: but after a time, the dress is only an amusement for an -antiquarian; and if it obstructs the general design of the piece, it is -to be disregarded by the artist. Common sense must here give way to a -higher sense. In the naked form, and in the disposition of the drapery, -the difference between one artist and another is principally seen. But -if he is compelled to exhibit the modern dress, the naked form is -entirely hid, and the drapery is already disposed by the skill of the -tailor. Were a Phidias to obey such absurd commands, he would please no -more than an ordinary sculptor; since, in the inferior parts of every -art, the learned and the ignorant are nearly upon a level.</p> - -<p>These were probably among the reasons that induced the sculptor of that -wonderful figure of Laocoon to exhibit him naked, notwithstanding he was -surprised in the act of sacrificing to Apollo, and consequently ought to -have been shown in his sacerdotal habits, if those greater reasons had -not preponderated. Art is not yet in so high estimation with us, as to -obtain so great a sacrifice as the ancients made, especially the -Grecians; who suffered themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a>{112}</span> to be represented naked, whether they -were generals, lawgivers, or kings.</p> - -<p>Under this head of balancing and choosing the greater reason, or of two -evils taking the least, we may consider the conduct of Rubens in the -Luxembourg gallery, where he has mixed allegorical figures with the -representations of real personages, which must be acknowledged to be a -fault; yet, if the artist considered himself as engaged to furnish this -gallery with a rich, various, and splendid ornament, this could not be -done, at least in an equal degree, without peopling the air and water -with these allegorical figures: he therefore accomplished all that he -purposed. In this case all lesser considerations, which tend to obstruct -the great end of the work, must yield and give way.</p> - -<p>The variety which portraits and modern dresses, mixed with allegorical -figures, produce, is not to be slightly given up upon a punctilio of -reason, when that reason deprives the art in a manner of its very -existence. It must always be remembered that the business of a great -painter is to produce a great picture; he must therefore take special -care not to be cajoled by specious arguments out of his materials.</p> - -<p>What has been so often said to the disadvantage of allegorical -poetry,—that it is tedious and uninteresting,—cannot with the same -propriety be applied to painting, where the interest is of a different -kind. If allegorical painting produces a greater variety of ideal -beauty, a richer, a more various and delightful composition, and gives -to the artist a greater opportunity of exhibiting his skill, all the -interest he wishes for is accomplished; such a picture not only -attracts, but fixes the attention.</p> - -<p>If it be objected that Rubens judged ill at first in thinking it -necessary to make his work so very<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a>{113}</span> ornamental, this puts the question -upon new ground. It was his peculiar style; he could paint in no other; -and he was selected for that work, probably, because it was his style. -Nobody will dispute but some of the best of the Roman or Bolognian -schools would have produced a more learned and more noble work.</p> - -<p>This leads us to another important province of taste, that of weighing -the value of the different classes of the art, and of estimating them -accordingly.</p> - -<p>All arts have means within them of applying themselves with success both -to the intellectual and sensitive part of our natures. It cannot be -disputed, supposing both these means put in practice with equal -abilities, to which we ought to give the preference; to him who -represents the heroic arts and more dignified passions of man, or to him -who, by the help of meretricious ornaments, however elegant and -graceful, captivates the sensuality, as it may be called, of our taste. -Thus the Roman and Bolognian schools are reasonably preferred to the -Venetian, Flemish or Dutch schools, as they address themselves to our -best and noblest faculties.</p> - -<p>Well-turned periods in eloquence, or harmony of numbers in poetry, which -are in those arts what colouring is in painting, however highly we may -esteem them, can never be considered as of equal importance with the art -of unfolding truths that are useful to mankind, and which make us better -or wiser. Nor can those works which remind us of the poverty and -meanness of our nature, be considered as of equal rank with what excites -ideas of grandeur, or raises and dignifies humanity; or, in the words of -a late poet, which makes the beholder learn to venerate himself as -man.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> - -<p>It is reason and good sense, therefore, which ranks<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a>{114}</span> and estimates every -art, and every part of that art, according to its importance, from the -painter of animated, down to inanimated nature. We will not allow a man, -who shall prefer the inferior style, to say it is his taste; taste here -has nothing, or at least ought to have nothing, to do with the question. -He wants not taste, but sense, and soundness of judgment.</p> - -<p>Indeed perfection in an inferior style may be reasonably preferred to -mediocrity in the highest walks of art. A landscape of Claude Lorrain -may be preferred to a history by Luca Giordano; but hence appears the -necessity of the connoisseur’s knowing in what consists the excellence -of each class, in order to judge how near it approaches to perfection.</p> - -<p>Even in works of the same kind, as in history-painting, which is -composed of various parts, excellence of an inferior species, carried to -a very high degree, will make a work very valuable, and in some measure -compensate for the absence of the higher kinds of merit. It is the duty -of the connoisseur to know and esteem, as much as it may deserve, every -part of painting: he will not then think even Bassano unworthy of his -notice; who, though totally devoid of expression, sense, grace, or -elegance, may be esteemed on account of his admirable taste of colours, -which, in his best works, are little inferior to those of Titian.</p> - -<p>Since I have mentioned Bassano, we must do him likewise the justice to -acknowledge, that though he did not aspire to the dignity of expressing -the characters and passions of men, yet, with respect to facility and -truth in his manner of touching animals of all kinds, and giving them -what painters call <i>their character</i>, few have ever excelled him.</p> - -<p>To Bassano we may add Paul Veronese and Tintoret, for their entire -inattention to what is justly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a>{115}</span> thought the most essential part of our -art, the expression of the passions. Notwithstanding these glaring -deficiencies, we justly esteem their works; but it must be remembered, -that they do not please from those defects, but from their great -excellences of another kind, and in spite of such transgressions. These -excellences too, as far as they go, are founded in the truth of -<i>general</i> nature: they tell the <i>truth</i>, though not <i>the whole truth</i>.</p> - -<p>By these considerations, which can never be too frequently impressed, -may be obviated two errors, which I observed to have been, formerly at -least, the most prevalent, and to be most injurious to artists; that of -thinking taste and genius to have nothing to do with reason, and that of -taking particular living objects for nature.</p> - -<p>I shall now say something on that part of <i>taste</i>, which, as I have -hinted to you before, does not belong so much to the external form of -things, but is addressed to the mind, and depends on its original frame, -or to use the expression, the organisation of the soul; I mean the -imagination and the passions. The principles of these are as invariable -as the former, and are to be known and reasoned upon in the same manner, -by an appeal to common sense deciding upon the common feelings of -mankind. This sense, and these feelings, appear to me of equal -authority, and equally conclusive. Now this appeal implies a general -uniformity and agreement in the minds of men. It would be else an idle -and vain endeavour to establish rules of art; it would be pursuing a -phantom, to attempt to move affections with which we were entirely -unacquainted. We have no reason to suspect there is a greater difference -between our minds than between our forms; of which, though there are no -two alike, yet there is a general similitude that goes through the whole -race of mankind; and those who have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a>{116}</span> cultivated their taste, can -distinguish what is beautiful or deformed, or, in other words, what -agrees with or deviates from the general idea of nature, in one case, as -well as in the other.</p> - -<p>The internal fabric of our minds, as well as the external form of our -bodies, being nearly uniform; it seems then to follow of course, that as -the imagination is incapable of producing anything originally of itself, -and can only vary and combine those ideas with which it is furnished by -means of the senses, there will be necessarily an agreement in the -imaginations, as in the senses of men. There being this agreement, it -follows, that in all cases, in our lightest amusements, as well as in -our most serious actions and engagements of life, we must regulate our -affections of every kind by that of others. The well-disciplined mind -acknowledges this authority, and submits its own opinion to the public -voice. It is from knowing what are the general feelings and passions of -mankind, that we acquire a true idea of what imagination is; though it -appears as if we had nothing to do but to consult our own particular -sensations, and these were sufficient to ensure us from all error and -mistake.</p> - -<p>A knowledge of the disposition and character of the human mind can be -acquired only by experience: a great deal will be learned, I admit, by a -habit of examining what passes in our bosoms, what are our own motives -of action, and of what kind of sentiments we are conscious on any -occasion. We may suppose a uniformity, and conclude that the same effect -will be produced by the same cause in the minds of others. This -examination will contribute to suggest to us matters of inquiry; but we -can never be sure that our own sensations are true and right, till they -are confirmed by more extensive<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a>{117}</span> observation. One man opposing another -determines nothing; but a general union of minds, like a general -combination of the forces of all mankind, makes a strength that is -irresistible. In fact, as he who does not know himself, does not know -others, so it may be said with equal truth, that he who does not know -others, knows himself but very imperfectly.</p> - -<p>A man who thinks he is guarding himself against prejudices by resisting -the authority of others, leaves open every avenue to singularity, -vanity, self-conceit, obstinacy, and many other vices, all tending to -warp the judgment, and prevent the natural operation of his faculties. -This submission to others is a deference which we owe, and indeed are -forced involuntarily to pay. In fact, we never are satisfied with our -opinions, whatever we may pretend, till they are ratified and confirmed -by the suffrages of the rest of mankind. We dispute and wrangle for -ever; we endeavour to get men to come to us, when we do not go to them.</p> - -<p>He therefore who is acquainted with the works which have pleased -different ages and different countries, and has formed his opinion on -them, has more materials, and more means of knowing what is analogous to -the mind of man, than he who is conversant only with the works of his -own age or country. What has pleased, and continues to please, is likely -to please again: hence are derived the rules of art, and on this -immovable foundation they must ever stand.</p> - -<p>This search and study of the history of the mind ought not to be -confined to one art only. It is by the analogy that one art bears to -another, that many things are ascertained, which either were but faintly -seen, or, perhaps, would not have been discovered at all, if the -inventor had not received the first hints from the practices of a sister -art on a similar occasion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a>{118}</span><a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> The frequent allusions which every man -who treats of any art is obliged to make to others, in order to -illustrate and confirm his principles, sufficiently show their near -connection and inseparable relation.</p> - -<p>All arts having the same general end, which is to please; and addressing -themselves to the same faculties through the medium of the senses; it -follows that their rules and principles must have as great affinity, as -the different materials and the different organs or vehicles by which -they pass to the mind, will permit them to retain.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p> - -<p>We may therefore conclude, that the real substance, as it may be called, -of what goes under the name of taste, is fixed and established in the -nature of things; that there are certain and regular causes by which the -imagination and passions of men are affected; and that the knowledge of -these causes is acquired by a laborious and diligent investigation of -nature, and by the same slow progress as wisdom or knowledge of every -kind, however instantaneous its operations may appear when thus -acquired.</p> - -<p>It has been often observed, that the good and virtuous man alone can -acquire this true or just relish even of works of art. This opinion will -not appear entirely without foundation, when we consider that the same -habit of mind, which is acquired by our search after truth in the more -serious duties of life, is only transferred to the pursuit of lighter -amusements. The same disposition, the same desire to find something -steady, substantial, and durable, on which the mind can lean as it were, -and rest with safety, actuates us in both cases. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a>{119}</span> subject only is -changed. We pursue the same method in our search after the idea of -beauty and perfection in each; of virtue, by looking forwards beyond -ourselves to society, and to the whole; of arts, by extending our views -in the same manner to all ages and all times.</p> - -<p>Every art, like our own, has in its composition fluctuating as well as -fixed principles. It is an attentive inquiry into their difference that -will enable us to determine how far we are influenced by custom and -habit, and what is fixed in the nature of things.</p> - -<p>To distinguish how much has solid foundation, we may have recourse to -the same proof by which some hold that wit ought to be tried; whether it -preserves itself when translated. That wit is false, which can subsist -only in one language; and that picture which pleases only one age or one -nation owes its reception to some local or accidental association of -ideas.</p> - -<p>We may apply this to every custom and habit of life. Thus the general -principles of urbanity, politeness, or civility, have been the same in -all nations; but the mode in which they are dressed is continually -varying. The general idea of showing respect is by making yourself less; -but the manner, whether by bowing the body, kneeling, prostration, -pulling off the upper part of our dress, or taking away the lower,<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> -is a matter of custom.</p> - -<p>Thus, in regard to ornaments,—it would be unjust to conclude that -because they were at first arbitrarily contrived, they are therefore -undeserving of our attention; on the contrary, he who neglects the -cultivation of those ornaments, acts contrary to nature and reason. As -life would be imperfect without its highest ornaments, the arts, so -these arts themselves would be imperfect without <i>their</i> ornaments.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a>{120}</span> -Though we by no means ought to rank these with positive and substantial -beauties, yet it must be allowed, that a knowledge of both is -essentially requisite towards forming a complete, whole and perfect -taste. It is in reality from the ornaments, that arts receive their -peculiar character and complexion; we may add, that in them we find the -characteristical mark of a national taste; as by throwing up a feather -in the air, we know which way the wind blows, better than by a more -heavy matter.</p> - -<p>The striking distinction between the works of the Roman, Bolognian, and -Venetian schools, consists more in that general effect which is produced -by colours, than in the more profound excellences of the art; at least -it is from thence that each is distinguished and known at first sight. -Thus it is the ornaments, rather than the proportions of architecture, -which at the first glance distinguish the different orders from each -other; the Doric is known by its triglyphs, the Ionic by its volutes, -and the Corinthian by its acanthus.</p> - -<p>What distinguishes oratory from a cold narration is a more liberal, -though chaste, use of those ornaments which go under the name of -figurative and metaphorical expressions; and poetry distinguishes itself -from oratory, by words and expressions still more ardent and glowing. -What separates and distinguishes poetry is more particularly the -ornament of <i>verse</i>: it is this which gives it its character, and is an -essential without which it cannot exist. Custom has appropriated -different metre to different kinds of composition, in which the world is -not perfectly agreed. In England the dispute is not yet settled, which -is to be preferred, rhyme or blank verse. But however we disagree about -what these metrical ornaments shall be, that some metre is essentially -necessary is universally acknowledged.</p> - -<p>In poetry or eloquence, to determine how far<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a>{121}</span> figurative or metaphorical -language may proceed, and when it begins to be affectation or beside the -truth, must be determined by taste; though this taste, we must never -forget, is regulated and formed by the presiding feelings of -mankind,—by those works which have approved themselves to all times and -all persons. Thus, though eloquence has undoubtedly an essential and -intrinsic excellence, and immovable principles common to all languages, -founded in the nature of our passions and affections; yet it has its -ornaments and modes of address, which are merely arbitrary. What is -approved in the eastern nations as grand and majestic, would be -considered by the Greeks and Romans as turgid and inflated; and they, in -return, would be thought by the Orientals to express themselves in a -cold and insipid manner.</p> - -<p>We may add likewise to the credit of ornaments, that it is by their -means that art itself accomplishes its purpose. Fresnoy calls colouring, -which is one of the chief ornaments of painting, <i>lena sororis</i>, that -which procures lovers and admirers to the more valuable excellences of -the art.</p> - -<p>It appears to be the same right turn of mind which enables a man to -acquire the <i>truth</i>, or the just idea of what is right, in the -ornaments, as in the more stable principles of art. It has still the -same centre of perfection, though it is the centre of a smaller circle.</p> - -<p>To illustrate this by the fashion of dress, in which there is allowed to -be a good or bad taste. The component parts of dress are continually -changing from great to little, from short to long; but the general form -still remains; it is still the same general dress, which is -comparatively fixed, though on a very slender foundation; but it is on -this which fashion must rest. He who invents with the most success, or -dresses in the best taste, would probably,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a>{122}</span> from the same sagacity -employed to greater purposes, have discovered equal skill, or have -formed the same correct taste, in the highest labours of art.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned taste in dress, which is certainly one of the lowest -subjects to which this word is applied; yet, as I have before observed, -there is a right even here, however narrow its foundation respecting the -fashion of any particular nation. But we have still more slender means -of determining, to which of the different customs of different ages or -countries we ought to give the preference, since they seem to be all -equally removed from nature. If a European, when he has cut off his -beard, and put false hair on his head, or bound up his own natural hair -in regular hard knots, as unlike nature as he can possibly make it; and -after having rendered them immovable by the help of the fat of hogs, has -covered the whole with flour, laid on by a machine with the utmost -regularity; if, when thus attired, he issues forth, and meets a Cherokee -Indian, who has bestowed as much time at his toilet, and laid on with -equal care and attention his yellow and red ochre on particular parts of -his forehead or cheeks, as he judges most becoming: whoever of these two -despises the other for this attention to the fashion of his country, -which ever first feels himself provoked to laugh, is the barbarian.</p> - -<p>All these fashions are very innocent; neither worth disquisition, nor -any endeavour to alter them; as the charge would, in all probability, be -equally distant from nature. The only circumstance against which -indignation may reasonably be removed, is, where the operation is -painful or destructive of health; such as some of the practices at -Otaheite, and the strait-lacing of the English ladies; of the last of -which practices, how destructive it must be to health and long life, the -Professor of Anatomy<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a>{123}</span> took an opportunity of proving a few days since in -this Academy.</p> - -<p>It is in dress, as in things of greater consequence. Fashions originate -from those only who have the high and powerful advantages of rank, -birth, and fortune. Many of the ornaments of art, those at least for -which no reason can be given, are transmitted to us, are adopted, and -acquire their consequence from the company in which we have been used to -see them. As Greece and Rome are the fountains from whence have flowed -all kinds of excellence, to that veneration which they have a right to -claim for the pleasure and knowledge which they have afforded us, we -voluntarily add our approbation of every ornament and every custom that -belonged to them, even to the fashion of their dress. For it may be -observed that, not satisfied with them in their own place, we make no -difficulty of dressing statues of modern heroes or senators in the -fashion of the Roman armour or peaceful robe; we go so far as hardly to -bear a statue in any other drapery.</p> - -<p>The figures of the great men of those nations have come down to us in -sculpture. In sculpture remain almost all the excellent specimens of -ancient art. We have so far associated personal dignity to the persons -thus represented, and the truth of art to their manner of -representation, that it is not in our power any longer to separate them. -This is not so in painting; because having no excellent ancient -portraits, that connection was never formed. Indeed we could no more -venture to paint a general officer in a Roman military habit, than we -could make a statue in the present uniform. But since we have no ancient -portraits,—to show how ready we are to adopt those kind of prejudices, -we make the best authority among the modern serve the same purpose. The -great variety of excellent portraits with which Vandyck has enriched -this nation, we are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a>{124}</span> not content to admire for their real excellence, -but extend our approbation even to the dress which happened to be the -fashion of that age. We all very well remember how common it was a few -years ago for portraits to be drawn in this fantastic dress; and this -custom is not yet entirely laid aside. By this means it must be -acknowledged very ordinary pictures acquired something of the air and -effect of the works of Vandyck, and appeared therefore at first sight to -be better pictures than they really were: they appeared so, however, to -those only who had the means of making this association; and when made, -it was irresistible. But this association is nature, and refers to that -secondary truth that comes from conformity to general prejudice and -opinion; it is therefore not merely fantastical. Besides the prejudice -which we have in favour of ancient dresses, there may be likewise other -reasons for the effect which they produce; among which we may justly -rank the simplicity of them, consisting of little more than one single -piece of drapery, without those whimsical capricious forms by which all -other dresses are embarrassed.</p> - -<p>Thus, though it is from the prejudice we have in favour of the ancients, -who have taught us architecture, that we have adopted likewise their -ornaments; and though we are satisfied that neither nature nor reason -are the foundation of those beauties which we imagine we see in that -art, yet if anyone, persuaded of this truth, should therefore invent new -orders of equal beauty, which we will suppose to be possible they would -not please; nor ought he to complain, since the old has that great -advantage of having custom and prejudice on its side. In this case we -leave what has every prejudice in its favour, to take that which will -have no advantage over what we have left, but novelty: which soon -destroys itself, and at any rate is but a weak antagonist against -custom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a>{125}</span></p> - -<p>Ancient ornaments, having the right of possession, ought not to be -removed, unless to make room for that which not only has higher -pretensions, but such pretensions as will balance the evil and confusion -which innovation always brings with it.</p> - -<p>To this we may add, that even the durability of the materials will often -contribute to give a superiority to one object over another. Ornaments -in buildings, with which taste is principally concerned, are composed of -materials which last longer than those of which dress is composed; the -former therefore make higher pretensions to our favour and prejudice.</p> - -<p>Some attention is surely due to what we can no more get rid of, than we -can go out of ourselves. We are creatures of prejudice; we neither can -nor ought to eradicate it; we must only regulate it by reason; which -kind of regulation is indeed little more than obliging the lesser, the -local and temporary prejudices, to give way to those which are more -durable and lasting.</p> - -<p>He, therefore, who in his practice of portrait-painting wishes to -dignify his subject, which we will suppose to be a lady, will not paint -her in the modern dress, the familiarity of which alone is sufficient to -destroy all dignity. He takes care that his work shall correspond to -those ideas and that imagination which he knows will regulate the -judgment of others; and therefore dresses his figure something with the -general air of the antique for the sake of dignity, and preserves -something of the modern for the sake of likeness. By this conduct his -works correspond with those prejudices which we have in favour of what -we continually see; and the relish of the antique simplicity corresponds -with what we may call the more learned and scientific prejudice.</p> - -<p>There was a statue made not long since of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a>{126}</span> Voltaire, which the sculptor, -not having that respect for the prejudices of mankind which he ought to -have had, made entirely naked, and as meagre and emaciated as the -original is said to be. The consequence was what might have been -expected; it remained in the sculptor’s shop, though it was intended as -a public ornament and a public honour to Voltaire, for it was procured -at the expense of his contemporary wits and admirers.</p> - -<p>Whoever would reform a nation, supposing a bad taste to prevail in it, -will not accomplish his purpose by going directly against the stream of -their prejudices. Men’s minds must be prepared to receive what is new to -them. Reformation is a work of time. A national taste, however wrong it -may be, cannot be totally changed at once; we must yield a little to the -prepossession which has taken hold on the mind, and we may then bring -people to adopt what would offend them, if endeavoured to be introduced -by violence. When Battista Franco was employed, in conjunction with -Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret, to adorn the library of St. Mark’s, -his work, Vasari says, gave less satisfaction than any of the others: -the dry manner of the Roman school was very ill calculated to please -eyes that had been accustomed to the luxuriance, splendour, and richness -of Venetian colouring. Had the Romans been the judges of this work, -probably the determination would have been just contrary; for in the -more noble parts of the art, Battista Franco was perhaps not inferior to -any of his rivals.</p> - -<p>Gentlemen, It has been the main scope and principal end of this -discourse to demonstrate the reality of a standard in taste, as well as -in corporeal beauty; that a false or depraved taste is a thing as well -known, as easily discovered, as anything that is deformed, mis-shapen, -or wrong, in our form or outward make; and that this knowledge is -derived from<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a>{127}</span> the uniformity of sentiments among mankind, from whence -proceeds the knowledge of what are the general habits of nature; the -result of which is an idea of perfect beauty.</p> - -<p>If what has been advanced be true,—that besides this beauty or truth, -which is formed on the uniform, eternal, and immutable laws of nature, -and which of necessity can be but <i>one</i>; that besides this one immutable -verity there are likewise what we have called apparent or secondary -truths, proceeding from local and temporary prejudices, fancies, -fashions or accidental connection of ideas; if it appears that these -last have still their foundation, however slender, in the original -fabric of our minds; it follows that all these truths or beauties -deserve and require the attention of the artist, in proportion to their -stability or duration, or as their influence is more or less extensive. -And let me add, that as they ought not to pass their just bounds, so -neither do they, in a well-regulated taste, at all prevent or weaken the -influence of those general principles, which alone can give to art its -true and permanent dignity.</p> - -<p>To form this just taste is undoubtedly in your own power, but it is to -reason and philosophy that you must have recourse; from them you must -borrow the balance, by which is to be weighed and estimated the value of -every pretension that intrudes itself on your notice.</p> - -<p>The general objection which is made to the introduction of philosophy -into the regions of taste, is, that it checks and restrains the flights -of the imagination, and gives that timidity, which an over-carefulness -not to err or act contrary to reason is likely to produce. It is not so. -Fear is neither reason nor philosophy. The true spirit of philosophy, by -giving knowledge, gives a manly confidence, and substitutes rational -firmness in the place<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a>{128}</span> of vain presumption. A man of real taste is -always a man of judgment in other respects; and those inventions which -either disdain or shrink from reason, are generally, I fear, more like -the dreams of a distempered brain, than the exalted enthusiasm of a -sound and true genius. In the midst of the highest flights of fancy or -imagination, reason ought to preside from first to last, though I admit -her more powerful operation is upon reflection.</p> - -<p>Let me add, that some of the greatest names of antiquity, and those who -have most distinguished themselves in works of genius and imagination, -were equally eminent for their critical skill. Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, -and Horace; and among the moderns, Boileau, Corneille, Pope, and Dryden, -are at least instances of genius not being destroyed by attention or -subjection to rules and science. I should hope therefore that the -natural consequence of what has been said, would be to excite in you a -desire of knowing the principles and conduct of the great masters of our -art, and respect and veneration for them when known.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_VIII" id="DISCOURSE_VIII"></a>DISCOURSE VIII -<br /><br /><i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the -Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1778.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">The Principles of Art, whether Poetry or Painting, have their -Foundation in the Mind; such as Novelty, Variety, and Contrast; -these in their Excess become Defects.—Simplicity. Its Excess -Disagreeable.—Rules not to be always observed in their Literal -Sense: Sufficient to preserve the Spirit of the Law.—Observations -on the Prize Pictures.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen,</span></p> - -<p>I <span class="smcap">have</span> recommended in former discourses,<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> that artists should learn -their profession by endeavouring<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a>{129}</span> to form an idea of perfection from the -different excellences which lie dispersed in the various schools of -painting. Some difficulty will still occur, to know what is beauty, and -where it may be found: one would wish not to be obliged to take it -entirely on the credit of fame; though to this, I acknowledge, the -younger students must unavoidably submit. Any suspicion in them of the -chance of their being deceived, will have more tendency to obstruct -their advancement, than even an enthusiastic confidence in the -perfection of their models. But to the more advanced in the art, who -wish to stand on more stable and firmer ground, and to establish -principles on a stronger foundation than authority, however venerable or -powerful, it may be safely told, that there is still a higher tribunal, -to which those great masters themselves must submit, and to which indeed -every excellence in art must be ultimately referred. He who is ambitious -to enlarge the boundaries of his art must extend his views, beyond the -precepts which are found in books or may be drawn from the practice of -his predecessors, to a knowledge of those precepts in the mind, those -operations of intellectual nature, to which everything that aspires to -please must be proportioned and accommodated.</p> - -<p>Poetry having a more extensive power than our art, exerts its influence -over almost all the passions; among those may be reckoned one of our -most prevalent dispositions, anxiety for the future. Poetry operates by -raising our curiosity, engaging the mind by degrees to take an interest -in the event, keeping that event suspended, and surprising at last with -an unexpected catastrophe.</p> - -<p>The painter’s art is more confined, and has nothing that corresponds -with, or perhaps is equivalent to, this power and advantage of leading -the mind on, till attention is totally engaged. What<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a>{130}</span> is done by -painting, must be done at one blow; curiosity has received at once all -the satisfaction it can ever have. There are, however, other -intellectual qualities and dispositions which the painter can satisfy -and affect as powerfully as the poet: among those we may reckon our love -of novelty, variety, and contrast; these qualities, on examination, will -be found to refer to a certain activity and restlessness, which has a -pleasure and delight in being exercised and put in motion: art therefore -only administers to those wants and desires of the mind.</p> - -<p>It requires no long disquisition to show, that the dispositions which I -have stated actually subsist in the human mind. Variety reanimates the -attention, which is apt to languish under a continual sameness. Novelty -makes a more forcible impression on the mind, than can be made by the -representation of what we have often seen before; and contrasts rouse -the power of comparison by opposition. All this is obvious; but, on the -other hand, it must be remembered, that the mind, though an active -principle, has likewise a disposition to indolence; and though it loves -exercise, loves it only to a certain degree, beyond which it is very -unwilling to be led, or driven; the pursuit therefore of novelty and -variety may be carried to excess. When variety entirely destroys the -pleasure proceeding from uniformity and repetition, and when novelty -counteracts and shuts out the pleasure arising from old habits and -customs, they oppose too much the indolence of our disposition: the mind -therefore can bear with pleasure but a small portion of novelty at a -time. The main part of the work must be in the mode to which we have -been used. An affection to old habits and customs I take to be the -predominant disposition of the mind, and novelty comes as an exception: -where all is novelty, the attention, the exercise of the mind is too -violent. Contrast, in the same manner, when it exceeds certain<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a>{131}</span> limits, -is as disagreeable as a violent and perpetual opposition; it gives to -the senses, in their progress, a more sudden change than they can bear -with pleasure.</p> - -<p>It is then apparent, that those qualities, however they contribute to -the perfection of art, when kept within certain bounds, if they are -carried to excess, become defects, and require correction: a work -consequently will not proceed better and better as it is more varied; -variety can never be the groundwork and principle of the performance—it -must be only employed to recreate and relieve.</p> - -<p>To apply these general observations, which belong equally to all arts, -to ours in particular. In a composition, when the objects are scattered -and divided into many equal parts, the eye is perplexed and fatigued, -from not knowing where to rest, where to find the principal action, or -which is the principal figure; for where all are making equal -pretensions to notice, all are in equal danger of neglect.</p> - -<p>The expression which is used very often on these occasions is, the piece -wants repose; a word which perfectly expresses a relief of the mind from -that state of hurry and anxiety which it suffers, when looking at a work -of this character.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, absolute unity, that is, a large work, consisting of -one group or mass of light only, would be as defective as an heroic poem -without episode, or any collateral incidents to recreate the mind with -that variety which it always requires.</p> - -<p>An instance occurs to me of two painters (Rembrandt and Poussin), of -characters totally opposite to each other in every respect, but in -nothing more than in their mode of composition, and management of light -and shadow. Rembrandt’s manner is absolute unity; he often has but one -group, and exhibits little more than one spot of light in the midst of a -large quantity of shadow: if he has a second<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a>{132}</span> mass, that second bears no -proportion to the principal. Poussin, on the contrary, has scarce any -principal mass of light at all, and his figures are often too much -dispersed, without sufficient attention to place them in groups.</p> - -<p>The conduct of these two painters is entirely the reverse of what might -be expected from their general style and character; the works of Poussin -being as much distinguished for simplicity, as those of Rembrandt for -combination. Even this conduct of Poussin might proceed from too great -an affection to simplicity of <i>another kind</i>; too great a desire to -avoid that ostentation of art, with regard to light and shadow, on which -Rembrandt so much wished to draw the attention: however, each of them -ran into contrary extremes, and it is difficult to determine which is -the most reprehensible, both being equally distant from the demands of -nature, and the purposes of art.</p> - -<p>The same just moderation must be observed in regard to ornaments; -nothing will contribute more to destroy repose than profusion, of -whatever kind, whether it consists in the multiplicity of objects, or -the variety and brightness of colours. On the other hand, a work without -ornament, instead of simplicity, to which it makes pretensions, has -rather the appearance of poverty. The degree to which ornaments are -admissible must be regulated by the professed style of the work; but we -may be sure of this truth,—that the most ornamental style requires -repose to set off even its ornaments to advantage. I cannot avoid -mentioning here an instance of repose in that faithful and accurate -painter of nature, Shakspeare; the short dialogue between Duncan and -Banquo, whilst they are approaching the gates of Macbeth’s castle. Their -conversation very naturally turns upon the beauty of its situation, and -the pleasantness of the air: and Banquo, observing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a>{133}</span> the martlets’ nests -in every recess of the cornice, remarks, that where those birds most -breed and haunt, the air is delicate. The subject of this quiet and easy -conversation gives that repose so necessary to the mind, after the -tumultuous bustle of the preceding scenes, and perfectly contrasts the -scene of horror that immediately succeeds. It seems as if Shakspeare -asked himself, What is a prince likely to say to his attendants on such -an occasion? The modern writers seem, on the contrary, to be always -searching for new thoughts, such as never could occur to men in the -situation represented. This is also frequently the practice of Homer; -who, from the midst of battles and horrors, relieves and refreshes the -mind of the reader, by introducing some quiet rural image, or picture of -familiar domestic life. The writers of every age and country, where -taste has begun to decline, paint and adorn every object they touch; are -always on the stretch; never deviate or sink a moment from the pompous -and the brilliant. Lucan, Statius, and Claudian (as a learned critic has -observed), are examples of this bad taste and want of judgment; they -never soften their tones, or condescend to be natural: all is -exaggeration and perpetual splendour, without affording repose of any -kind.</p> - -<p>As we are speaking of excesses, it will not be remote from our purpose -to say a few words upon simplicity; which, in one of the senses in which -it is used, is considered as the general corrector of excess. We shall -at present forbear to consider it as implying that exact conduct which -proceeds from an intimate knowledge of simple unadulterated nature, as -it is then only another word for perfection, which neither stops short -of, nor oversteps, reality and truth.</p> - -<p>In our inquiry after simplicity, as in many other inquiries of this -nature, we can best explain what is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a>{134}</span> right, by showing what is wrong; -and, indeed, in this case it seems to be absolutely necessary: -simplicity, being only a negative virtue, cannot be described or -defined. We must therefore explain its nature, and show the advantage -and beauty which is derived from it, by showing the deformity which -proceeds from its neglect.</p> - -<p>Though instances of this neglect might be expected to be found in -practice, we should not expect to find in the works of critics precepts -that bid defiance to simplicity and everything that relates to it. De -Piles recommends to us portrait-painters to add grace and dignity to the -characters of those whose pictures we draw: so far he is undoubtedly -right; but, unluckily, he descends to particulars, and gives his own -idea of grace and dignity. “<i>If</i>,” says he, “<i>you draw persons of high -character and dignity, they ought to be drawn in such an attitude that -the portraits must seem to speak to us of themselves, and, as it were, -to say to us, ‘Stop, take notice of me, I am that invincible King, -surrounded by Majesty’</i>: <i>‘I am that valiant commander, who struck -terror everywhere’</i>; <i>‘I am that great minister, who knew all the -springs of politics’</i>: <i>‘I am that magistrate of consummate wisdom and -probity.’</i>” He goes on in this manner, with all the characters he can -think on. We may contrast the tumour of this presumptuous loftiness with -the natural unaffected air of the portraits of Titian, where dignity, -seeming to be natural and inherent, draws spontaneous reverence, and -instead of being thus vainly assumed, has the appearance of an -unalienable adjunct; whereas such pompous and laboured insolence of -grandeur is so far from creating respect, that it betrays vulgarity and -meanness, and new-acquired consequence.</p> - -<p>The painters, many of them at least, have not been backward in adopting -the notions contained<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a>{135}</span> in these precepts. The portraits of Rigaud are -perfect examples of an implicit observance of these rules of De Piles; -so that though he was a painter of great merit in many respects, yet -that merit is entirely overpowered by a total absence of simplicity in -every sense.</p> - -<p>Not to multiply instances, which might be produced for this purpose, -from the works of history-painters, I shall mention only one,—a picture -which I have seen, of the Supreme Being by Coypell.</p> - -<p>This subject the Roman Catholic painters have taken the liberty to -represent, however indecent the attempt, and however obvious the -impossibility of any approach to an adequate representation: but here -the air and character, which the painter has given, and he has doubtless -given the highest he could conceive, are so degraded by an attempt at -such dignity as De Piles has recommended, that we are enraged at the -folly and presumption of the artist, and consider it as little less than -profanation.</p> - -<p>As we have passed to a neighbouring nation for instances of want of this -quality, we must acknowledge, at the same time, that they have produced -great examples of simplicity, in Poussin and Le Sueur. But as we are -speaking of the most refined and subtle notion of perfection, may we not -inquire, whether a curious eye cannot discern some faults, even in those -great men? I can fancy, that even Poussin, by abhorring that affectation -and that want of simplicity, which he observed in his countrymen, has, -in certain particulars, fallen into the contrary extreme, so far as to -approach to a kind of affectation;—to what, in writing, would be called -pedantry.</p> - -<p>When simplicity, instead of being a corrector, seems to set up for -herself; that is, when an artist seems to value himself solely upon this -quality; such an ostentatious display of simplicity becomes then as -disagreeable and nauseous as any other kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a>{136}</span> affectation. He is, -however, in this case, likely enough to sit down contented with his own -work; for though he finds the world look at it with indifference or -dislike, as being destitute of every quality that can recreate or give -pleasure to the mind, yet he consoles himself, that it has simplicity, a -beauty of too pure and chaste a nature to be relished by vulgar minds.</p> - -<p>It is in art as in morals; no character would inspire us with an -enthusiastic admiration of his virtue, if that virtue consisted only in -an absence of vice; something more is required; a man must do more than -merely his duty, to be a hero.</p> - -<p>Those works of the ancients, which are in the highest esteem, have -something beside mere simplicity to recommend them. The Apollo, the -Venus, the Laocoon, the Gladiator, have a certain composition of action, -have contrasts sufficient to give grace and energy in a high degree; but -it must be confessed of the many thousand antique statues which we have, -that their general characteristic is bordering at least on inanimate -insipidity.</p> - -<p>Simplicity, when so very inartificial as to seem to evade the -difficulties of art, is a very suspicious virtue.</p> - -<p>I do not, however, wish to degrade simplicity from the high estimation -in which it has been ever justly held. It is our barrier against that -great enemy to truth and nature, affectation, which is ever clinging to -the pencil, and ready to drop in and poison everything it touches.</p> - -<p>Our love and affection to simplicity proceeds in a great measure from -our aversion to every kind of affectation. There is likewise another -reason why so much stress is laid upon this virtue; the propensity which -artists have to fall into the contrary extreme; we therefore set a guard -on that side which is most assailable. When a young artist is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a>{137}</span> first -told, that his composition and his attitudes must be contrasted, that he -must turn the head contrary to the position of the body, in order to -produce grace and animation; that his outline must be undulating, and -swelling, to give grandeur; and that the eye must be gratified with a -variety of colours; when he is told this, with certain animating words, -of spirit, dignity, energy, grace, greatness of style, and brilliancy of -tints, he becomes suddenly vain of his newly acquired knowledge, and -never thinks he can carry those rules too far. It is then that the aid -of simplicity ought to be called in, to correct the exuberance of -youthful ardour.</p> - -<p>The same may be said in regard to colouring, which in its pre-eminence -is particularly applied to flesh. An artist, in his first essay of -imitating nature, would make the whole mass of one colour, as the oldest -painters did; till he is taught to observe not only the variety of -tints, which are in the object itself, but the differences produced by -the gradual decline of light to shadow: he then immediately puts his -instruction in practice, and introduces a variety of distinct colours. -He must then be again corrected and told, that though there is this -variety, yet the effect of the whole upon the eye must have the union -and simplicity of the colouring of nature.</p> - -<p>And here we may observe that the progress of an individual student bears -a great resemblance to the progress and advancement of the art itself. -Want of simplicity would probably be not one of the defects of an artist -who had studied nature only, as it was not of the old masters, who lived -in the time preceding the great art of painting; on the contrary, their -works are too simple and too inartificial.</p> - -<p>The art in its infancy, like the first work of a student, was dry, hard, -and simple. But this kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a>{138}</span> of barbarous simplicity would be better named -penury, as it proceeds from mere want; from want of knowledge, want of -resources, want of abilities to be otherwise: their simplicity was the -offspring, not of choice, but necessity.</p> - -<p>In the second stage they were sensible of this poverty; and those who -were the most sensible of the want were the best judges of the measure -of the supply. There were painters who emerged from poverty without -falling into luxury. Their success induced others, who probably never -would of themselves have had strength of mind to discover the original -defect, to endeavour at the remedy by an abuse; and they ran into the -contrary extreme. But however they may have strayed, we cannot recommend -to them to return to that simplicity which they have justly quitted; but -to deal out their abundance with a more sparing hand, with that dignity -which makes no parade, either of its riches, or of its art. It is not -easy to give a rule which may serve to fix this just and correct medium; -because when we may have fixed, or nearly fixed the middle point, taken -as a general principle, circumstances may oblige us to depart from it, -either on the side of simplicity or on that of variety and decoration.</p> - -<p>I thought it necessary in a former discourse, speaking of the difference -of the sublime and ornamental style of painting,—in order to excite -your attention to the more manly, noble, and dignified manner, to leave -perhaps an impression too contemptuous of those ornamental parts of our -art, for which many have valued themselves, and many works are much -valued and esteemed.</p> - -<p>I said then, what I thought it was right at that time to say; I supposed -the disposition of young men more inclinable to splendid negligence, -than perseverance in laborious application to acquire correctness; and -therefore did as we do in making what is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a>{139}</span> crooked straight, by bending -it the contrary way, in order that it may remain straight at last.</p> - -<p>For this purpose, then, and to correct excess or neglect of any kind, we -may here add, that it is not enough that a work be learned; it must be -pleasing: the painter must add grace to strength, if he desires to -secure the first impression in his favour. Our taste has a kind of -sensuality about it, as well as a love of the sublime; both these -qualities of the mind are to have their proper consequence, as far as -they do not counteract each other; for that is the grand error which -much care ought to be taken to avoid.</p> - -<p>There are some rules, whose absolute authority, like that of our nurses, -continues no longer than while we are in a state of childhood. One of -the first rules, for instance, that I believe every master would give to -a young pupil, respecting his conduct and management of light and -shadow, would be what Lionardo da Vinci has actually given; that you -must oppose a light ground to the shadowed side of your figure, and a -dark ground to the light side. If Lionardo had lived to see the superior -splendour and effect which has been since produced by the exactly -contrary conduct,—by joining light to light, and shadow to -shadow,—though without doubt he would have admired it, yet, as it ought -not, so probably it would not, be the first rule with which he would -have begun his instructions.</p> - -<p>Again: in the artificial management of the figures, it is directed that -they shall contrast each other according to the rules generally given; -that if one figure opposes his front to the spectator, the next figure -is to have his back turned, and that the limbs of each individual figure -be contrasted; that is, if the right leg be put forward, the right arm -is to be drawn back.</p> - -<p>It is very proper that those rules should be given in the Academy; it is -proper the young students<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a>{140}</span> should be informed that some research is to -be made, and that they should be habituated to consider every excellence -as reducible to principles. Besides, it is the natural progress of -instruction to teach first what is obvious and perceptible to the -senses, and from hence proceed gradually to notions large, liberal, and -complete, such as comprise the more refined and higher excellences in -art. But when students are more advanced, they will find that the -greatest beauties of character and expression are produced without -contrast; nay, more, that this contrast would ruin and destroy that -natural energy of men engaged in real action, unsolicitous of grace. St. -Paul preaching at Athens in one of the cartoons, far from any affected -academical contrast of limbs, stands equally on both legs, and both -hands are in the same attitude: add contrast, and the whole energy and -unaffected grace of the figure is destroyed. Elymas the sorcerer -stretches both hands forward in the same direction, which gives -perfectly the expression intended. Indeed you never will find in the -works of Raffaelle any of those schoolboy affected contrasts. Whatever -contrast there is, appears without any seeming agency of art, by the -natural chance of things.</p> - -<p>What has been said of the evil of excesses of all kinds, whether of -simplicity, variety, of contrast, naturally suggests to the painter the -necessity of a general inquiry into the true meaning and cause of rules, -and how they operate on those faculties to which they are addressed: by -knowing their general purpose and meaning, he will often find that he -need not confine himself to the literal sense; it will be sufficient if -he preserve the spirit of the law.</p> - -<p>Critical remarks are not always understood without examples: it may not -be improper therefore to give instances where the rule itself, though -generally received,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a>{141}</span> is false, or where a narrow conception of it may -lead the artist into great errors.</p> - -<p>It is given as a rule by Fresnoy, that <i>the principal figure of a -subject must appear in the midst of the picture, under the principal -light, to distinguish it from the rest</i>. A painter who should think -himself obliged strictly to follow this rule would encumber himself with -needless difficulties; he would be confined to great uniformity of -composition, and be deprived of many beauties which are incompatible -with its observance. The meaning of this rule extends, or ought to -extend, no further than this: that the principal figure should be -immediately distinguished at the first glance of the eye; but there is -no necessity that the principal light should fall on the principal -figure, or that the principal figure should be in the middle of the -picture. It is sufficient that it be distinguished by its place, or by -the attention of other figures pointing it out to the spectator. So far -is this rule from being indispensable, that it is very seldom practised, -other considerations of greater consequence often standing in the way. -Examples in opposition to this rule are found in the cartoons, in -Christ’s Charge to Peter, the Preaching of St. Paul, and Elymas the -Sorcerer, who is undoubtedly the principal object in that picture. In -none of those compositions is the principal figure in the midst of the -picture. In the very admirable composition of the Tent of Darius, by Le -Brun, Alexander is not in the middle of the picture, nor does the -principal light fall on him; but the attention of all the other figures -immediately distinguishes him, and distinguishes him more properly; the -greatest light falls on the daughter of Darius, who is in the middle of -the picture, where it is more necessary the principal light should be -placed.</p> - -<p>It is very extraordinary that Felibien, who has given a very minute -description of this picture, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a>{142}</span> indeed such a description as may be -rather called panegyric than criticism, thinking it necessary (according -to the precept of Fresnoy) that Alexander should possess the principal -light, has accordingly given it to him; he might with equal truth have -said that he was placed in the middle of the picture, as he seemed -resolved to give this piece every kind of excellence which he conceived -to be necessary to perfection. His generosity is here unluckily -misapplied, as it would have destroyed in a great measure the beauty of -the composition.</p> - -<p>Another instance occurs to me, where equal liberty may be taken in -regard to the management of light. Though the general practice is to -make a large mass about the middle of the picture surrounded by shadow, -the reverse may be practised, and the spirit of the rule may still be -preserved. Examples of this principle reversed may be found very -frequently in the works of the Venetian school. In the great composition -of Paul Veronese, the Marriage at Cana, the figures are for the most -part in half shadow; the great light is in the sky; and indeed the -general effect of this picture, which is so striking, is no more than -what we often see in landscapes, in small pictures of fairs and country -feasts; but those principles of light and shadow, being transferred to a -large scale, to a space containing near a hundred figures as large as -life, and conducted to all appearance with as much facility, and with an -attention as steadily fixed upon <i>the whole together</i>, as if it were a -small picture immediately under the eye, the work justly excites our -admiration; the difficulty being increased as the extent is enlarged.</p> - -<p>The various modes of composition are infinite; sometimes it shall -consist of one large group in the middle of the picture, and the smaller -groups on<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a>{143}</span> each side; or a plain space in the middle, and the groups of -figures ranked round this vacuity.</p> - -<p>Whether this principal broad light be in the middle space of ground, as -in the School of Athens, or in the sky, as in the Marriage at Cana, in -the Andromeda, and in most of the pictures of Paul Veronese; or whether -the light be on the groups; whatever mode of composition is adopted, -every variety and licence is allowable: this only is indisputably -necessary, that to prevent the eye from being distracted and confused by -a multiplicity of objects of equal magnitude, those objects, whether -they consist of lights, shadows, or figures, must be disposed in large -masses and groups properly varied and contrasted; that to a certain -quantity of action a proportioned space of plain ground is required; -that light is to be supported by sufficient shadow; and, we may add, -that a certain quantity of cold colours is necessary to give value and -lustre to the warm colours: what those proportions are cannot be so well -learnt by precept as by observation on pictures, and in this knowledge -bad pictures will instruct as well as good. Our inquiry why pictures -have a bad effect may be as advantageous as the inquiry why they have a -good effect; each will corroborate the principles that are suggested by -the other.</p> - -<p>Though it is not my <i>business</i> to enter into the detail of our art, yet -I must take this opportunity of mentioning one of the means of producing -that great effect which we observe in the works of the Venetian -painters, as I think it is not generally known or observed. It ought, in -my opinion, to be indispensably observed, that the masses of light in a -picture be always of a warm mellow colour, yellow, red, or a -yellowish-white; and that the blue, the grey, or the green colours be -kept almost entirely out of these masses, and be used only to support -and set off these warm colours; and for this purpose,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a>{144}</span> a small -proportion of cold colours will be sufficient.</p> - -<p>Let this conduct be reversed; let the light be cold, and the surrounding -colours warm, as we often see in the works of the Roman and Florentine -painters, and it will be out of the power of art, even in the hands of -Rubens or Titian, to make a picture splendid and harmonious.</p> - -<p>Le Brun and Carlo Maratti were two painters of great merit, and -particularly what may be called academical merit, but were both -deficient in this management of colours: the want of observing this rule -is one of the causes of that heaviness of effect which is so observable -in their works. The principal light in the picture of Le Brun, which I -just now mentioned, falls on Statira, who is dressed very injudiciously -in a pale blue drapery: it is true, he has heightened this blue with -gold, but that is not enough; the whole picture has a heavy air, and by -no means answers the expectation raised by the print. Poussin often made -a spot of blue drapery, when the general hue of the picture was -inclinable to brown or yellow; which shows sufficiently, that harmony of -colouring was not a part of the art that had much engaged the attention -of that great painter.</p> - -<p>The conduct of Titian in the picture of Bacchus and Ariadne has been -much celebrated, and justly, for the harmony of colouring. To Ariadne is -given (say the critics) a red scarf, to relieve the figure from the sea, -which is behind her. It is not for that reason alone, but for another of -much greater consequence; for the sake of the general harmony and effect -of the picture. The figure of Ariadne is separated from the great group, -and is dressed in blue, which, added to the colour of the sea, makes -that quantity of cold colour which Titian thought necessary for the -support and brilliancy of the great group; which group<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a>{145}</span> is composed, -with very little exception, entirely of mellow colours. But as the -picture in this case would be divided into two distinct parts, one half -cold, and the other warm, it was necessary to carry some of the mellow -colours of the great group into the cold part of the picture, and a part -of the cold into the great group; accordingly Titian gave Ariadne a red -scarf, and to one of the Bacchante a little blue drapery.</p> - -<p>The light of the picture, as I observed, ought to be of a warm colour; -for though white may be used for the principal light, as was the -practice of many of the Dutch and Flemish painters, yet it is better to -suppose <i>that white</i> illumined by the yellow rays of the setting sun, as -was the manner of Titian. The superiority of which manner is never more -striking, than when in a collection of pictures we chance to see a -portrait of Titian’s hanging by the side of a Flemish picture (even -though that should be of the hand of Vandyck), which, however admirable -in other respects, becomes cold and grey in the comparison.</p> - -<p>The illuminated parts of objects are in nature of a warmer tint than -those that are in the shade: what I have recommended therefore is no -more, than that the same conduct be observed in the whole, which is -acknowledged to be necessary in every individual part. It is presenting -to the eye the same effect as that which it has been <i>accustomed</i> to -feel, which in this case, as in every other, will always produce beauty; -no principle therefore in our art can be more certain, or is derived -from a higher source.</p> - -<p>What I just now mentioned of the supposed reason why Ariadne has part of -her drapery red gives me occasion here to observe, that this favourite -quality of giving objects relief, and which De Piles and all the critics -have considered as a requisite of the utmost importance, was not one of -those objects which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a>{146}</span> much engaged the attention of Titian; painters of -an inferior rank have far exceeded him in producing this effect. This -was a great object of attention, when art was in its infant state; as it -is at present with the vulgar and ignorant, who feel the highest -satisfaction in seeing a figure, which, as they say, looks as if they -could walk round it. But however low I may rate this pleasure of -deception, I should not oppose it, did it not oppose itself to a quality -of a much higher kind, by counteracting entirely that fulness of manner -which is so difficult to express in words, but which is found in -perfection in the best works of Correggio, and, we may add, of -Rembrandt. This effect is produced by melting and losing the shadows in -a ground still darker than those shadows; whereas that relief is -produced by opposing and separating the ground from the figure either by -light, or shadow, or colour. This conduct of inlaying, as it may be -called, figures on their ground, in order to produce relief, was the -practice of the old painters, such as Andrea Mantegna, Pietro Perugino, -and Albert Dürer; and to these we may add, the first manner of Lionardo -da Vinci, Giorgione, and even Correggio; but these three were among the -first who began to correct themselves in dryness of style, by no longer -considering relief as a principal object. As those two qualities, relief -and fulness of effect, can hardly exist together, it is not very -difficult to determine to which we ought to give the preference. An -artist is obliged for ever to hold a balance in his hand, by which he -must determine the value of different qualities; that, when <i>some</i> fault -must be committed, he may choose the least. Those painters who have best -understood the art of producing a good effect, have adopted one -principle that seems perfectly conformable to reason; that a part may be -sacrificed for the good of the whole. Thus, whether the masses consist -of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a>{147}</span> light or shadow, it is necessary that they should be compact and of -a pleasing shape: to this end, some parts may be made darker and some -lighter, and reflections stronger than nature would warrant. Paul -Veronese took great liberties of this kind. It is said, that being once -asked, why certain figures were painted in shade, as no cause was seen -in the picture itself, he turned off the inquiry by answering “<i>una -nuevola che passa</i>,” a cloud is passing which has overshadowed them.</p> - -<p>But I cannot give a better instance of this practice than a picture -which I have of Rubens; it is a representation of a moonlight. Rubens -has not only diffused more light over the picture than is in nature, but -has bestowed on it those warm glowing colours by which his works are so -much distinguished. It is so unlike what any other painters have given -us of moonlight, that it might be easily mistaken, if he had not -likewise added stars, for a fainter setting sun.—Rubens thought the eye -ought to be satisfied in this case, above all other considerations: he -might indeed have made it more natural, but it would have been at the -expense of what he thought of much greater consequence,—the harmony -proceeding from the contrast and variety of colours.</p> - -<p>This same picture will furnish us with another instance, where we must -depart from nature for a greater advantage. The moon in this picture -does not preserve so great a superiority in regard to its lightness over -the object which it illumines, as it does in nature; this is likewise an -intended deviation, and for the same reason. If Rubens had preserved the -same scale of gradation of light between the moon and the objects, which -is found in nature, the picture must have consisted of one small spot of -light only, and at a little distance from the picture nothing but this -spot would have been seen. It may be said, indeed, that this being the -case, it is a subject<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a>{148}</span> that ought not to be painted: but then, for the -same reason, neither armour, nor anything shining, ought ever to be -painted; for though pure white is used in order to represent the -greatest light of shining objects, it will not in the picture preserve -the same superiority over flesh, as it has in nature, without keeping -that flesh-colour of a very low tint. Rembrandt, who thought it of more -consequence to paint light than the objects that are seen by it, has -done this in a picture of Achilles which I have. The head is kept down -to a very low tint, in order to preserve this due gradation and -distinction between the armour and the face; the consequence of which -is, that upon the whole the picture is too black. Surely too much is -sacrificed here to this narrow conception of nature: allowing the -contrary conduct a fault, yet it must be acknowledged a less fault, than -making a picture so dark that it cannot be seen without a peculiar -light, and then with difficulty. The merit or demerit of the different -conduct of Rubens and Rembrandt in those instances which I have given, -is not to be determined by the narrow principles of nature, separated -from its effect on the human mind. Reason and common sense tell us, that -before, and above all other considerations, it is necessary that the -work should be seen, not only without difficulty or inconvenience, but -with pleasure and satisfaction; and every obstacle which stands in the -way of this pleasure and convenience must be removed.</p> - -<p>The tendency of this discourse, with the instances which have been -given, is not so much to place the artist above rules, as to teach him -their reason; to prevent him from entertaining a narrow confined -conception of art; to clear his mind from a perplexed variety of rules -and their exceptions, by directing his attention to an intimate -acquaintance with the passions and affections of the mind, from which -all<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a>{149}</span> rules arise, and to which they are all referable. Art effects its -purpose by their means; an accurate knowledge therefore of those -passions and dispositions of the mind is necessary to him who desires to -effect them upon sure and solid principles.</p> - -<p>A complete essay or inquiry into the connection between the rules of -art, and the eternal and immutable dispositions of our passions, would -be indeed going at once to the foundation of criticism;<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> but I am too -well convinced what extensive knowledge, what subtle and penetrating -judgment would be required, to engage in such an undertaking: it is -enough for me, if, in the language of painters, I have produced a slight -sketch of a part of this vast composition, but that sufficiently -distinct to show the usefulness of such a theory, and its -practicability.</p> - -<p>Before I conclude, I cannot avoid making one observation on the pictures -now before us. I have observed, that every candidate has copied the -celebrated invention of Timanthes in hiding the face of Agamemnon in his -mantle; indeed such lavish encomiums have been bestowed on this thought, -and that too by men of the highest character in critical -knowledge,—Cicero, Quintilian, Valerius Maximus, and Pliny,—and have -been since re-echoed by almost every modern that has written on the -arts, that your adopting it can neither be wondered at, nor blamed. It -appears now to be so much connected with the subject, that the spectator -would perhaps be disappointed in not finding united in the picture what -he always united in his mind, and considered as indispensably belonging -to the subject. But it may be observed, that those who praise this -circumstance were not painters. They use it as an illustration only of -their own art; it served their purpose, and it was certainly not their -business to enter into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a>{150}</span> objections that lie against it in another -art. I fear <i>we</i> have but very scanty means of exciting those powers -over the imagination which make so very considerable and refined a part -of poetry. It is a doubt with me, whether we should even make the -attempt. The chief, if not the only occasion which the painter has for -this artifice, is, when the subject is improper to be more fully -represented, either for the sake of decency, or to avoid what would be -disagreeable to be seen; and this is not to raise or increase the -passions, which is the reason that is given for this practice, but on -the contrary to diminish their effect.</p> - -<p>It is true, sketches, or such drawings as painters generally make for -their works, give this pleasure of imagination to a high degree. From a -slight undetermined drawing, where the ideas of the composition and -character are, as I may say, only just touched upon, the imagination -supplies more than the painter himself, probably, could produce; and we -accordingly often find that the finished work disappoints the -expectation that was raised from the sketch; and this power of the -imagination is one of the causes of the great pleasure we have in -viewing a collection of drawings by great painters. These general ideas, -which are expressed in sketches, correspond very well to the art often -used in poetry. A great part of the beauty of the celebrated description -of Eve in Milton’s <i>Paradise Lost</i>, consists in using only general -indistinct expressions, every reader making out the detail according to -his own particular imagination,—his own idea of beauty, grace, -expression, dignity, or loveliness: but a painter, when he represents -Eve on a canvas, is obliged to give a determined form, and his own idea -of beauty distinctly expressed.</p> - -<p>We cannot on this occasion, nor indeed on any other, recommend an -undeterminate manner, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a>{151}</span> vague ideas of any kind, in a complete and -finished picture. This notion, therefore, of leaving anything to the -imagination, opposes a very fixed and indispensable rule in our -art,—that everything shall be carefully and distinctly expressed, as if -the painter knew, with correctness and precision, the exact form and -character of whatever is introduced into the picture. This is what with -us is called science and learning: which must not be sacrificed and -given up for an uncertain and doubtful beauty, which, not naturally -belonging to our art, will probably be sought for without success.</p> - -<p>Mr. Falconet has observed, in a note on this passage in his translation -of Pliny, that the circumstance of covering the face of Agamemnon was -probably not in consequence of any fine imagination of the -painter,—which he considers as a discovery of the critics,—but merely -copied from the description of the sacrifice, as it is found in -Euripides.</p> - -<p>The words from which the picture is supposed to be taken are these: -<i>Agamemnon saw Iphigenia advance towards the fatal altar; he groaned, he -turned aside his head, he shed tears, and covered his face with his -robe</i>.</p> - -<p>Falconet does not at all acquiesce in the praise that is bestowed on -Timanthes; not only because it is not his invention, but because he -thinks meanly of this trick of concealing, except in instances of blood, -where the objects would be too horrible to be seen; but, says he, “in an -afflicted father, in a king, in Agamemnon, you, who are a painter, -conceal from me the most interesting circumstance, and then put me off -with sophistry and a veil. You are” (he adds) “a feeble painter, without -resource: you do not know even those of your art: I care not what veil -it is, whether closed hands, arms raised, or any other action that -conceals from me the countenance of the hero. You think of veiling -Agamemnon; you have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a>{152}</span> unveiled your own ignorance. A painter who -represents Agamemnon veiled is as ridiculous as a poet would be, who in -a pathetic situation, in order to satisfy my expectations, and rid -himself of the business, should say, that the sentiments of his hero are -so far above whatever can be said on the occasion, that he shall say -nothing.”</p> - -<p>To what Falconet has said, we may add, that supposing this method of -leaving the expression of grief to the imagination, to be, as it was -thought to be, the invention of the painter, and that it deserves all -the praise that has been given it, still it is a trick that will serve -but once; whoever does it a second time will not only want novelty, but -be justly suspected of using artifice to evade difficulties. If -difficulties overcome make a great part of the merit of art, -difficulties evaded can deserve but little commendation.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_IX" id="DISCOURSE_IX"></a>DISCOURSE IX<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered at the Opening of the Royal Academy, in Somerset Place, October 16, 1780.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">On the Removal of the Royal Academy to Somerset Place.—The -Advantages to Society from cultivating Intellectual Pleasure.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> honour which the arts acquire by being permitted to take possession -of this noble habitation, is one of the most considerable of the many -instances we have received of his Majesty’s protection; and the -strongest proof of his desire to make the Academy respectable.</p> - -<p>Nothing has been left undone, that might contribute to excite our -pursuit, or to reward our attainments.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a>{153}</span> We have already the happiness of -seeing the arts in a state to which they never before arrived in this -nation. This building, in which we are now assembled, will remain to -many future ages an illustrious specimen of the architect’s<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> -abilities. It is our duty to endeavour that those who gaze with wonder -at the structure, may not be disappointed when they visit the -apartments. It will be no small addition to the glory, which this nation -has already acquired from having given birth to eminent men in every -part of science, if it should be enabled to produce, in consequence of -this institution, a school of English artists. The estimation in which -we stand in respect to our neighbours, will be in proportion to the -degree in which we excel or are inferior to them in the acquisition of -intellectual excellence, of which trade and its consequential riches -must be acknowledged to give the means; but a people whose whole -attention is absorbed in those means, and who forget the end, can aspire -but little above the rank of a barbarous nation. Every establishment -that tends to the cultivation of the pleasures of the mind, as distinct -from those of sense, may be considered as an inferior school of -morality, where the mind is polished and prepared for higher -attainments.</p> - -<p>Let us for a moment take a short survey of the progress of the mind -towards what is, or ought to be, its true object of attention. Man, in -his lowest state, has no pleasures but those of sense, and no wants but -those of appetite; afterwards, when society is divided into different -ranks, and some are appointed to labour for the support of others, those -whom their superiority sets free from labour begin to look for -intellectual entertainments. Thus, whilst the shepherds were attending -their flocks, their masters made the first astronomical observations;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a>{154}</span> -so music is said to have had its origin from a man at leisure listening -to the strokes of a hammer.</p> - -<p>As the senses, in the lowest state of nature, are necessary to direct us -to our support, when that support is once secure there is danger in -following them further; to him who has no rule of action but the -gratification of the senses, plenty is always dangerous: it is therefore -necessary to the happiness of individuals, and still more necessary to -the security of society, that the mind should be elevated to the idea of -general beauty, and the contemplation of general truth; by this pursuit -the mind is always carried forward in search of something more excellent -than it finds, and obtains its proper superiority over the common senses -of life, by learning to feel itself capable of higher aims and nobler -enjoyments. In this gradual exaltation of human nature, every art -contributes its contingent towards the general supply of mental -pleasure. Whatever abstracts the thoughts from sensual gratifications, -whatever teaches us to look for happiness within ourselves, must advance -in some measure the dignity of our nature.</p> - -<p>Perhaps there is no higher proof of the excellence of man than -this,—that to a mind properly cultivated whatever is bounded is little. -The mind is continually labouring to advance, step by step, through -successive gradations of excellence, towards perfection, which is dimly -seen, at a great though not hopeless distance, and which we must always -follow because we never can attain; but the pursuit rewards itself: one -truth teaches another, and our store is always increasing, though nature -can never be exhausted. Our art, like all arts which address the -imagination, is applied to somewhat a lower faculty of the mind, which -approaches nearer to sensuality; but through sense and fancy it must -make its way to reason; for such is the progress of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a>{155}</span> thought, that we -perceive by sense, we combine by fancy, and distinguish by reason: and -without carrying our art out of its natural and true character, the more -we purify it from everything that is gross in sense, in that proportion -we advance its use and dignity; and in proportion as we lower it to mere -sensuality, we pervert its nature, and degrade it from the rank of a -liberal art; and this is what every artist ought well to remember. Let -him remember also, that he deserves just so much encouragement in the -State as he makes himself a member of it virtuously useful, and -contributes in his sphere to the general purpose and perfection of -society.</p> - -<p>The art which we profess has beauty for its object; this it is our -business to discover and to express; the beauty of which we are in quest -is general and intellectual; it is an idea that subsists only in the -mind; the sight never beheld it, nor has the hand expressed it: it is an -idea residing in the breast of the artist, which he is always labouring -to impart, and which he dies at last without imparting; but which he is -yet so far able to communicate, as to raise the thoughts, and extend the -views of the spectator; and which, by a succession of art, may be so far -diffused, that its effects may extend themselves imperceptibly into -public benefits, and be among the means of bestowing on whole nations -refinement of taste: which, if it does not lead directly to purity of -manners, obviates at least their greatest depravation, by disentangling -the mind from appetite, and conducting the thoughts through successive -stages of excellence, till that contemplation of universal rectitude and -harmony which began by taste may, as it is exalted and refined, conclude -in virtue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a>{156}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_X" id="DISCOURSE_X"></a>DISCOURSE X<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 11, 1780.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">Sculpture:—Has but One Style.—Its Objects, Form, and -Character.—Ineffectual Attempts of the Modern Sculptors to improve -the Art.—Ill Effects of Modern Dress in Sculpture.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p>I <span class="smcap">shall</span> now, as it has been customary on this day, and on this occasion, -communicate to you such observations as have occurred to me on the -theory of art.</p> - -<p>If these observations have hitherto referred principally to painting, -let it be remembered that this art is much more extensive and -complicated than sculpture, and affords therefore a more ample field for -criticism; and as the greater includes the less, the leading principles -of sculpture are comprised in those of painting.</p> - -<p>However, I wish now to make some remarks with particular relation to -sculpture; to consider wherein, or in what manner, its principles and -those of painting agree or differ; what is within its power of -performing, and what it is vain or improper to attempt; that it may be -clearly and distinctly known what ought to be the great purpose of the -sculptor’s labours.</p> - -<p>Sculpture is an art of much more simplicity and uniformity than -painting; it cannot with propriety, and the best effect, be applied to -many subjects. The object of its pursuit may be comprised in two words, -form and character; and those qualities are presented to us but in one -manner, or in one style only; whereas the powers of painting, as they -are more various and extensive, so they are exhibited<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a>{157}</span> in as great a -variety of manners. The Roman, Lombard, Florentine, Venetian, and -Flemish schools, all pursue the same end by different means. But -sculpture, having but one style, can only to one style of painting have -any relation; and to this (which is indeed the highest and most -dignified that painting can boast) it has a relation so close, that it -may be said to be almost the same art operating upon different -materials. The sculptors of the last age, from not attending -sufficiently to this discrimination of the different styles of painting, -have been led into many errors. Though they well knew that they were -allowed to imitate, or take ideas for the improvement of their own art -from the grand style of painting, they were not aware that it was not -permitted to borrow in the same manner from the ornamental. When they -endeavour to copy the picturesque effects, contrasts, or petty -excellences of whatever kind, which not improperly find a place in the -inferior branches of painting, they doubtless imagine themselves -improving and extending the boundaries of their art by this imitation; -but they are in reality violating its essential character, by giving a -different direction to its operations, and proposing to themselves -either what is unattainable, or at best a meaner object of pursuit. The -grave and austere character of sculpture requires the utmost degree of -formality in composition; picturesque contrasts have here no place; -everything is carefully weighed and measured, one side making almost an -exact equipoise to the other: a child is not a proper balance to a -full-grown figure, nor is a figure sitting or stooping a companion to an -upright figure.</p> - -<p>The excellence of every art must consist in the complete accomplishment -of its purpose; and if by a false imitation of nature, or mean ambition -of producing a picturesque effect or illusion of any kind, all the -grandeur of ideas which this art endeavours<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a>{158}</span> to excite be degraded or -destroyed, we may boldly oppose ourselves to any such innovation. If the -producing of a deception is the summit of this art, let us at once give -to statues the addition of colour; which will contribute more towards -accomplishing this end, than all those artifices which have been -introduced and professedly defended, on no other principle but that of -rendering the work more natural. But as colour is universally rejected, -every practice liable to the same objection must fall with it. If the -business of sculpture were to administer pleasure to ignorance, or a -mere entertainment to the senses, the Venus of Medicis might certainly -receive much improvement by colour; but the character of sculpture makes -it her duty to afford delight of a different, and, perhaps, of a higher -kind; the delight resulting from the contemplation of perfect beauty: -and this, which is in truth an intellectual pleasure, is in many -respects incompatible with what is merely addressed to the senses, such -as that with which ignorance and levity contemplate elegance of form.</p> - -<p>The sculptor may be safely allowed to practise every means within the -power of his art to produce a deception, provided this practice does not -interfere with or destroy higher excellences; on these conditions he -will be forced, however loth, to acknowledge that the boundaries of his -art have long been fixed, and that all endeavours will be vain that hope -to pass beyond the best works which remain of ancient sculpture.</p> - -<p>Imitation is the means, and not the end, of art; it is employed by the -sculptor as the language by which his ideas are presented to the mind of -the spectator. Poetry and elocution of every sort make use of signs, but -those signs are arbitrary and conventional. The sculptor employs the -representation of the thing itself; but still as a means to a higher -end,—as a gradual ascent always advancing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a>{159}</span> towards faultless form and -perfect beauty. It may be thought at the first view, that even this -form, however perfectly represented, is to be valued and take its rank -only for the sake of a still higher object, that of conveying sentiment -and character, as they are exhibited by attitude, and expression of the -passions. But we are sure from experience, that the beauty of form -alone, without the assistance of any other quality, makes of itself a -great work, and justly claims our esteem and admiration. As a proof of -the high value we set on the mere excellence of form, we may produce the -greatest part of the works of Michael Angelo, both in painting and -sculpture; as well as most of the antique statues, which are justly -esteemed in a very high degree, though no very marked or striking -character or expression of any kind is represented.</p> - -<p>But, as a stronger instance that this excellence alone inspires -sentiment, what artist ever looked at the Torso without feeling a warmth -of enthusiasm, as from the highest efforts of poetry? From whence does -this proceed? What is there in this fragment that produces this effect, -but the perfection of this science of abstract form?</p> - -<p>A mind elevated to the contemplation of excellence perceives in this -defaced and shattered fragment, <i>disjecti membra poetæ</i>, the traces of -superlative genius, the relics of a work on which succeeding ages can -only gaze with inadequate admiration.</p> - -<p>It may be said that this pleasure is reserved only to those who have -spent their whole life in the study and contemplation of this art; but -the truth is, that all would feel its effects, if they could divest -themselves of the expectation of <i>deception</i>, and look only for what it -really is, a <i>partial</i> representation of nature. The only impediment of -their judgment must then proceed from their being uncertain to what -rank, or rather kind of excellence, it aspires;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a>{160}</span> and to what sort of -approbation it has a right. This state of darkness is, without doubt, -irksome to every mind; but by attention to works of this kind the -knowledge of what is aimed at comes of itself, without being taught, and -almost without being perceived.</p> - -<p>The sculptor’s art is limited in comparison of others, but it has its -variety and intricacy within its proper bounds. Its essence is -correctness: and when to correct and perfect form is added the ornament -of grace, dignity of character, and appropriated expression, as in the -Apollo, the Venus, the Laocoon, the Moses of Michael Angelo, and many -others, this art may be said to have accomplished its purpose.</p> - -<p>What grace is, how it is to be acquired or conceived, are in speculation -difficult questions; but <i>causa latet, res est notissima:</i> without any -perplexing inquiry, the effect is hourly perceived. I shall only -observe, that its natural foundation is correctness of design; and -though grace may be sometimes united with incorrectness, it cannot -proceed from it.</p> - -<p>But to come nearer to our present subject. It has been said that the -grace of the Apollo depends on a certain degree of incorrectness; that -the head is not anatomically placed between the shoulders; and that the -lower half of the figure is longer than just proportion allows.</p> - -<p>I know that Correggio and Parmegiano are often produced as authorities -to support this opinion; but very little attention will convince us, -that the incorrectness of some parts which we find in their works, does -not contribute to grace, but rather tends to destroy it. The Madonna, -with the sleeping Infant, and beautiful group of angels, by Parmegiano, -in the Palazzo Piti, would not have lost any of its excellence, if the -neck, fingers, and indeed the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a>{161}</span> figure of the Virgin, instead of -being so very long and incorrect, had preserved their due proportion.</p> - -<p>In opposition to the first of these remarks, I have the authority of a -very able sculptor of this Academy, who has copied that figure, -consequently measured and carefully examined it, to declare, that the -criticism is not true. In regard to the last, it must be remembered, -that Apollo is here in the exertion of one of his peculiar powers, which -is swiftness; he has therefore that proportion which is best adapted to -that character. This is no more incorrectness than when there is given -to a Hercules an extraordinary swelling and strength of muscles.</p> - -<p>The art of discovering and expressing grace is difficult enough of -itself, without perplexing ourselves with what is incomprehensible. A -supposition of such a monster as grace, begot by deformity, is poison to -the mind of a young artist, and may make him neglect what is essential -to his art, correctness of design, in order to pursue a phantom, which -has no existence but in the imagination of affected and refined -speculators.</p> - -<p>I cannot quit the Apollo without making one observation on the character -of this figure. He is supposed to have just discharged his arrow at the -python; and, by the head retreating a little towards the right shoulder, -he appears attentive to its effect. What I would remark, is the -difference of this attention from that of the Discobolus, who is engaged -in the same purpose, watching the effect of his discus. The graceful, -negligent, though animated, air of the one, and the vulgar eagerness of -the other, furnish a signal instance of the judgment of the ancient -sculptors in their nice discrimination of character. They are both -equally true to nature, and equally admirable.</p> - -<p>It may be remarked that grace, character, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a>{162}</span> expression, though words -of different sense and meaning, and so understood when applied to the -works of painters, are indiscriminately used when we speak of sculpture. -This indecision we may suspect to proceed from the undetermined effects -of the art itself; those qualities are exhibited in sculpture rather by -form and attitude than by the features, and can therefore be expressed -but in a very general manner.</p> - -<p>Though the Laocoon and his two sons have more expression in the -countenance than perhaps any other antique statues, yet it is only the -general expression of pain; and this passion is still more strongly -expressed by the writhing and contortion of the body than by the -features.</p> - -<p>It has been observed in a late publication, that if the attention of the -father in this group had been occupied more by the distress of his -children, than by his own sufferings, it would have raised a much -greater interest in the spectator. Though this observation comes from a -person whose opinion, in everything relating to the arts, carries with -it the highest authority, yet I cannot but suspect that such refined -expression is scarce within the province of this art; and in attempting -it, the artist will run great risk of enfeebling expression, and making -it less intelligible to the spectator.</p> - -<p>As the general figure presents itself in a more conspicuous manner than -the features, it is there we must principally look for expression or -character; <i>patuit in corpore vultus</i>; and, in this respect, the -sculptor’s art is not unlike that of dancing, where the attention of the -spectator is principally engaged by the attitude and action of the -performer; and it is there he must look for whatever expression that art -is capable of exhibiting. The dancers themselves acknowledge this, by -often wearing masks, with little diminution in the expression. The face<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a>{163}</span> -bears so very inconsiderable a proportion to the effect of the whole -figure, that the ancient sculptors neglected to animate the features, -even with the general expression of the passions. Of this the group of -the Boxers is a remarkable instance; they are engaged in the most -animated action with the greatest serenity of countenance. This is not -recommended for imitation (for there can be no reason why the -countenance should not correspond with the attitude and expression of -the figure), but is mentioned in order to infer from hence, that this -frequent deficiency in ancient sculpture could proceed from nothing but -a habit of inattention to what was considered as comparatively -immaterial.</p> - -<p>Those who think sculpture can express more than we have allowed, may -ask, by what means we discover, at the first glance, the character that -is represented in a bust, cameo, or intaglio? I suspect it will be -found, on close examination, by him who is resolved not to see more than -he really does see, that the figures are distinguished by their -<i>insignia</i> more than by any variety of form or beauty. Take from Apollo -his lyre, from Bacchus his thyrsus and vine-leaves, and Meleager the -board’s head, and there will remain little or no difference in their -characters. In a Juno, Minerva, or Flora, the idea of the artist seems -to have gone no further than representing perfect beauty, and afterwards -adding the proper attributes, with a total indifference to which they -gave them. Thus John De Bologna, after he had finished a group of a -young man holding up a young woman in his arms, with an old man at his -feet, called his friends together, to tell him what name he should give -it, and it was agreed to call it The Rape of the Sabines;<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> and this -is the celebrated group which now stands before the old Palace at -Florence. The figures have the same general expression<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a>{164}</span> which is to be -found in most of the antique sculpture; and yet it would be no wonder if -future critics should find out delicacy of expression which was never -intended; and go so far as to see, in the old man’s countenance, the -exact relation which he bore to the woman who appears to be taken from -him.</p> - -<p>Though painting and sculpture are, like many other arts, governed by the -same general principles, yet in the detail, or what may be called the -by-laws of each art, there seems to be no longer any connection between -them. The different materials upon which those two arts exert their -powers must infallibly create a proportional difference in their -practice. There are many petty excellences which the painter attains -with ease, but which are impracticable in sculpture; and which, even if -it could accomplish them, would add nothing to the true value and -dignity of the work.</p> - -<p>Of the ineffectual attempts which the modern sculptors have made by way -of improvement, these seem to be the principal; The practice of -detaching drapery from the figure, in order to give the appearance of -flying in the air;</p> - -<p>Of making different plans in the same bas-relievos;</p> - -<p>Of attempting to represent the effects of perspective:—</p> - -<p>To these we may add the ill effect of figures clothed in a modern dress.</p> - -<p>The folly of attempting to make stone sport and flutter in the air is so -apparent, that it carries with it its own reprehension; and yet to -accomplish this seemed to be the great ambition of many modern -sculptors, particularly Bernini: his heart was so much set on overcoming -this difficulty, that he was for ever attempting it, though by that -attempt he risked everything that was valuable in the art.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a>{165}</span></p> - -<p>Bernini stands in the first class of modern sculptors, and therefore it -is the business of criticism to prevent the ill effects of so powerful -an example.</p> - -<p>From his very early work of Apollo and Daphne, the world justly expected -he would rival the best productions of ancient Greece; but he soon -strayed from the right path. And though there is in his works something -which always distinguishes him from the common herd, yet he appears in -his latter performances to have lost his way. Instead of pursuing the -study of that ideal beauty with which he had so successfully begun, he -turned his mind to an injudicious quest of novelty; attempted what was -not within the province of the art, and endeavoured to overcome the -hardness and obstinacy of his materials; which even supposing he had -accomplished, so far as to make this species of drapery appear natural, -the ill effect and confusion occasioned by its being detached from the -figure to which it belongs, ought to have been alone a sufficient reason -to have deterred him from that practice.</p> - -<p>We have not, I think, in our Academy, any of Bernini’s works, except a -cast of the head of his Neptune;<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> this will be sufficient to serve us -for an example of the mischief produced by this attempt of representing -the effects of the wind. The locks of the hair are flying abroad in all -directions, insomuch that it is not a superficial view that can discover -what the object is which is represented, or distinguish those flying -locks from the features, as they are all of the same colour, of equal -solidity, and consequently project with equal force.</p> - -<p>The same entangled confusion which is here<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a>{166}</span> occasioned by the hair is -produced by drapery flying off; which the eye must, for the same reason, -inevitably mingle and confound with the principal parts of the figure.</p> - -<p>It is a general rule, equally true in both arts, that the form and -attitude of the figure should be seen clearly, and without any -ambiguity, at the first glance of the eye. This the painter can easily -do by colour, by losing parts in the ground, or keeping them so obscure -as to prevent them from interfering with the more principal objects. The -sculptor has no other means of preventing this confusion than by -attaching the drapery for the greater part close to the figure; the -folds of which following the order of the limbs, whenever the drapery is -seen, the eye is led to trace the form and attitude of the figure at the -same time.</p> - -<p>The drapery of the Apollo, though it makes a large mass, and is -separated from the figure, does not affect the present question, from -the very circumstance of its being so completely separated; and from the -regularity and simplicity of its form, it does not in the least -interfere with a distinct view of the figure. In reality, it is no more -a part of it than a pedestal, a trunk of a tree, or an animal, which we -often see joined to statues.</p> - -<p>The principal use of those appendages is to strengthen and preserve the -statue from accidents; and many are of opinion that the mantle which -falls from the Apollo’s arm is for the same end; but surely it answers a -much greater purpose, by preventing that dryness of effect which would -inevitably attend a naked arm, extended almost at full length; to which -we may add, the disagreeable effect which would proceed from the body -and arm making a right angle.</p> - -<p>The Apostles, in the church of St. John Lateran, appear to me to fall -under the censure of an injudicious<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a>{167}</span> imitation of the manner of the -painters. The drapery of those figures, from being disposed in large -masses, gives undoubtedly that air of grandeur which magnitude or -quantity is sure to produce. But though it should be acknowledged that -it is managed with great skill and intelligence, and contrived to appear -as light as the materials will allow, yet the weight and solidity of -stone was not to be overcome.</p> - -<p>Those figures are much in the style of Carlo Maratti, and such as we may -imagine he would have made, if he had attempted sculpture; and when we -know he had the superintendence of that work, and was an intimate friend -of one of the principal sculptors, we may suspect that his taste had -some influence, if he did not even give the designs. No man can look at -those figures without recognising the manner of Carlo Maratti. They have -the same defect which his works so often have, of being overloaded with -drapery, and that too artificially disposed. I cannot but believe, that -if Ruscono, Le Gros, Monot, and the rest of the sculptors employed in -that work, had taken for their guide the simple dress, such as we see in -the antique statues of the philosophers, it would have given more real -grandeur to their figures, and would certainly have been more suitable -to the characters of the Apostles.</p> - -<p>Though there is no remedy for the ill effect of those solid projections -which flying drapery in stone must always produce in statues, yet in -basso-relievos it is totally different; those detached parts of drapery -the sculptor has here as much power over as the painter, by uniting and -losing it in the ground, so that it shall not in the least entangle and -confuse the figure.</p> - -<p>But here again the sculptor, not content with this successful imitation, -if it may be so called, proceeds to represent figures or groups of -figures on different<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a>{168}</span> plans; that is, some on the foreground, and some -at a greater distance, in the manner of painters in historical -compositions. To do this he has no other means than by making the -distant figures of less dimensions, and relieving them in a less degree -from the surface; but this is not adequate to the end; they will still -appear only as figures on a less scale, but equally near the eye with -those in the front of the piece.</p> - -<p>Nor does the mischief of this attempt, which never accomplishes its -intention, rest here: by this division of the work into many minute -parts, the grandeur of its general effect is inevitably destroyed.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the only circumstance in which the modern have excelled the -ancient sculptors is the management of a single group in basso-relievo; -the art of gradually raising the group from the flat surface, till it -imperceptibly emerges into alto-relievo. Of this there is no ancient -example remaining that discovers any approach to the skill which Le Gros -has shown in an altar in the Jesuits’ Church at Rome. Different plans or -degrees of relief in the same group have, as we see in this instance, a -good effect, though the contrary happens when the groups are separated, -and are at some distance behind each other.</p> - -<p>This improvement in the art of composing a group in basso-relievo was -probably first suggested by the practice of the modern painters, who -relieve their figures, or groups of figures, from their ground, by the -same gentle gradation; and it is accomplished in every respect by the -same general principles; but as the marble has no colour, it is the -composition itself that must give it its light and shadow. The ancient -sculptors could not borrow this advantage from their painters, for this -was an art with which they appear to have been entirely unacquainted;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a>{169}</span> -and in the basso-relievos of Lorenzo Ghiberti, the casts of which we -have in the Academy, this art is no more attempted than it was by the -painters of his age.</p> - -<p>The next imaginary improvement of the moderns is the representing the -effects of perspective in bas-relief. Of this little need be said; all -must recollect how ineffectual has been the attempt of modern sculptors -to turn the buildings which they have introduced as seen from their -angle, with a view to make them appear to recede from the eye in -perspective. This, though it may show indeed their eager desire to -encounter difficulties, shows at the same time how inadequate their -materials are even to this their humble ambition.</p> - -<p>The ancients, with great judgment, represented only the elevation of -whatever architecture they introduced into their bas-reliefs, which is -composed of little more than horizontal or perpendicular lines; whereas -the interruption of crossed lines, or whatever causes a multiplicity of -subordinate parts, destroys that regularity and firmness of effect on -which grandeur of style so much depends.</p> - -<p>We come now to the last consideration; in what manner statues are to be -dressed, which are made in honour of men, either now living, or lately -departed.</p> - -<p>This is a question which might employ a long discourse of itself: I -shall at present only observe, that he who wishes not to obstruct the -artist, and prevent his exhibiting his abilities to their greatest -advantage, will certainly not desire a modern dress.</p> - -<p>The desire of transmitting to posterity the shape of modern dress must -be acknowledged to be purchased at a prodigious price, even the price of -everything that is valuable in art.</p> - -<p>Working in stone is a very serious business; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a>{170}</span> it seems to be scarce -worth while to employ such durable materials in conveying to posterity a -fashion of which the longest existence scarce exceeds a year.</p> - -<p>However agreeable it may be to the antiquary’s principles of equity and -gratitude, that as he has received great pleasure from the contemplation -of the fashions of dress of former ages, he wishes to give the same -satisfaction to future antiquaries: yet methinks pictures of an inferior -style, or prints, may be considered as quite sufficient, without -prostituting this great art to such mean purposes.</p> - -<p>In this town may be seen an equestrian statue in a modern dress, which -may be sufficient to deter future artists from any such attempt: even -supposing no other objection, the familiarity of the modern dress by no -means agrees with the dignity and gravity of sculpture.</p> - -<p>Sculpture is formal, regular, and austere; disdains all familiar -objects, as incompatible with its dignity; and is an enemy to every -species of affectation, or appearance of academical art. All contrast, -therefore, of one figure to another, or of the limbs of a single figure, -or even in the folds of the drapery, must be sparingly employed. In -short, whatever partakes of fancy or caprice, or goes under the -denomination of picturesque (however to be admired in its proper place), -is incompatible with that sobriety and gravity which is peculiarly the -characteristic of this art.</p> - -<p>There is no circumstance which more distinguishes a well-regulated and -sound taste, than a settled uniformity of design, where all the parts -are compact, and fitted to each other, everything being of a piece. This -principle extends itself to all habits of life, as well as to all works -of art. Upon this general ground therefore we may safely venture to -pronounce, that the uniformity and simplicity of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a>{171}</span> the materials on which -the sculptor labours (which are only white marble) prescribes bounds to -his art, and teaches him to confine himself to a proportionable -simplicity of design.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_XI" id="DISCOURSE_XI"></a>DISCOURSE XI<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1782.</i></h2> - -<p class="hang"> -Genius.—Consists principally in the Comprehension of a<br /> -whole; in taking General Ideas only.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"> -<span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> highest ambition of every artist is to be thought a man of genius. -As long as this flattering quality is joined to his name, he can bear -with patience the imputation of carelessness, incorrectness, or defects -of whatever kind.</p> - -<p>So far indeed is the presence of genius from implying an absence of -faults, that they are considered by many as its inseparable companions. -Some go such lengths as to take indication from them, and not only -excuse faults on account of genius, but presume genius from the -existence of certain faults.</p> - -<p>It is certainly true, that a work may justly claim the character of -genius, though full of errors; and it is equally true, that it may be -faultless, and yet not exhibit the least spark of genius. This naturally -suggests an inquiry, a desire at least of inquiring, what qualities of a -work and of a workman may justly entitle a painter to that character.</p> - -<p>I have in a former discourse<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> endeavoured to impress you with a fixed -opinion, that a comprehensive<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a>{172}</span> and critical knowledge of the works of -nature is the only source of beauty and grandeur. But when we speak to -painters, we must always consider this rule, and all rules, with a -reference to the mechanical practice of their own particular art. It is -not properly in the learning, the taste, and the dignity of the ideas, -that genius appears as belonging to a painter. There is a genius -particular and appropriated to his own trade (as I may call it) -distinguished from all others. For that power, which enables the artist -to conceive his subject with dignity, may be said to belong to general -education; and is as much the genius of a poet, or the professor of any -other liberal art, or even a good critic in any of those arts, as of a -painter. Whatever sublime ideas may fill his mind, he is a painter only -as he can put in practice what he knows, and communicate those ideas by -visible representation.</p> - -<p>If my expression can convey my idea, I wish to distinguish excellence of -this kind by calling it the genius of mechanical performance. This -genius consists, I conceive, in the power of expressing that which -employs your pencil, whatever it may be, <i>as a whole</i>; so that the -general effect and power of the whole may take possession of the mind, -and for a while suspend the consideration of the subordinate and -particular beauties or defects.</p> - -<p>The advantage of this method of considering objects is what I wish now -more particularly to enforce. At the same time I do not forget, that a -painter must have the power of contracting as well as dilating his -sight; because, he that does not at all express particulars, expresses -nothing; yet it is certain, that a nice discrimination of minute -circumstances, and a punctilious delineation of them, whatever -excellence it may have (and I do not mean to detract from it), never did -confer on the artist the character of genius.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a>{173}</span></p> - -<p>Besides those minute differences in things which are frequently not -observed at all, and when they are, make little impression, there are in -all considerable objects great characteristic distinctions, which press -strongly on the senses, and therefore fix the imagination. These are by -no means, as some persons think, an aggregate of all the small -discriminating particulars: nor will such an accumulation of particulars -ever express them. These answer to what I have heard great lawyers call -the leading points in a case or the leading cases relative to those -points.</p> - -<p>The detail of particulars, which does not assist the expression of the -main characteristic, is worse than useless; it is mischievous, as it -dissipates the attention, and draws it from the principal point. It may -be remarked, that the impression which is left on our mind, even of -things which are familiar to us, is seldom more than their general -effect; beyond which we do not look in recognising such objects. To -express this in painting is to express what is congenial and natural to -the mind of man, and what gives him by reflection his own mode of -conceiving. The other presupposes <i>nicety</i> and <i>research</i>, which are -only the business of the curious and attentive, and therefore does not -speak to the general sense of the whole species; in which common, and, -as I may so call it, mother tongue, every thing grand and comprehensive -must be uttered.</p> - -<p>I do not mean to prescribe what degree of attention ought to be paid to -the minute parts; this it is hard to settle. We are sure that it is -expressing the general effect of the whole, which alone can give to -objects their true and touching character; and wherever this is -observed, whatever else may be neglected, we acknowledge the hand of a -master. We may even go further, and observe, that when the general -effect only is presented to us by a skilful<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a>{174}</span> hand, it appears to express -the object represented in a more lively manner than the minutest -resemblance would do.</p> - -<p>These observations may lead to very deep questions, which I do not mean -here to discuss; among others, it may lead to an inquiry, why we are not -always pleased with the most absolute possible resemblance of an -imitation to its original object. Cases may exist in which such a -resemblance may be even disagreeable. I shall only observe that the -effect of figures in waxwork, though certainly a more exact -representation than can be given by painting or sculpture, is a -sufficient proof that the pleasure we receive from imitation is not -increased merely in proportion as it approaches to minute and detailed -reality; we are pleased, on the contrary, by seeing ends accomplished by -seemingly inadequate means.</p> - -<p>To express protuberance by actual relief, to express the softness of -flesh by the softness of wax, seems rude and inartificial, and creates -no grateful surprise. But to express distances on a plain surface, -softness by hard bodies, and particular colouring by materials which are -not singly of that colour, produces that magic which is the prize and -triumph of art.</p> - -<p>Carry this principle a step further. Suppose the effect of imitation to -be fully compassed by means still more inadequate; let the power of a -few well-chosen strokes, which supersede labour by judgment and -direction, produce a complete impression of all that the mind demands in -an object; we are charmed with such an unexpected happiness of -execution, and begin to be tired with the superfluous diligence, which -in vain solicits an appetite already satiated.</p> - -<p>The properties of all objects, as far as a painter is concerned with -them, are the outline or drawing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a>{175}</span> the colour, and the light and shade. -The drawing gives the form, the colour its visible quality, and the -light and shade its solidity.</p> - -<p>Excellence in any one of these parts of art will never be acquired by an -artist, unless he has the habit of looking upon objects at large, and -observing the effect which they have on the eye when it is dilated, and -employed upon the whole, without seeing any one of the parts distinctly. -It is by this that we obtain the ruling characteristic, and that we -learn to imitate it by short and dextrous methods. I do not mean by -dexterity a trick or mechanical habit, formed by guess, and established -by custom; but that science, which, by a profound knowledge of ends and -means, discovers the shortest and surest way to its own purpose.</p> - -<p>If we examine with a critical view the manner of those painters whom we -consider as patterns, we shall find that their great fame does not -proceed from their works being more highly finished than those of other -artists, or from a more minute attention to details, but from that -enlarged comprehension which sees the whole object at once, and that -energy of art which gives its characteristic effect by adequate -expression.</p> - -<p>Raffaelle and Titian are two names which stand the highest in our art; -one for drawing, the other for painting. The most considerable and the -most esteemed works of Raffaelle are the cartoons and his fresco works -in the Vatican; those, as we all know, are far from being minutely -finished: his principal care and attention seems to have been fixed upon -the adjustment of the whole, whether it was the general composition, or -the composition of each individual figure; for every figure may be said -to be a lesser whole, though in regard to the general work to which it -belongs, it is but a part; the same may be said of the head, of the -hands, and feet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a>{176}</span> Though he possessed this art of seeing and -comprehending the whole, as far as form is concerned, he did not exert -the same faculty in regard to the general effect, which is presented to -the eye by colour, and light and shade. Of this the deficiency of his -oil pictures, where this excellence is more expected than in fresco, is -a sufficient proof.</p> - -<p>It is to Titian we must turn our eyes to find excellence with regard to -colour, and light and shade, in the highest degree. He was both the -first and the greatest master of this art. By a few strokes he knew how -to mark the general image and character of whatever object he attempted; -and produced, by this alone, a truer representation than his master -Giovanni Bellini, or any of his predecessors, who finished every hair. -His great care was to express the general colour, to preserve the masses -of light and shade, and to give by opposition the idea of that solidity -which is inseparable from natural objects. When those are preserved, -though the work should possess no other merit, it will have in a proper -place its complete effect; but where any of these are wanting, however -minutely laboured the picture may be in the detail, the whole will have -a false and even an unfinished appearance, at whatever distance, or in -whatever light, it can be shown.</p> - -<p>It is vain to attend to the variation of tints, if, in that attention, -the general hue of flesh is lost; or to finish ever so minutely the -parts, if the masses are not observed, or the whole not well put -together.</p> - -<p>Vasari seems to have had no great disposition to favour the Venetian -painters, yet he everywhere justly commends <i>il modo di fare, la -maniera, la bella pratica</i>; that is, the admirable manner and practice -of that school. On Titian, in particular, he bestows the epithets of -<i>giudicioso</i>, <i>bello</i>, <i>e stupendo</i>.</p> - -<p>This manner was then new to the world, but that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a>{177}</span> unshaken truth on which -it is founded, has fixed it as a model to all succeeding painters: and -those who will examine into the artifice, will find it to consist in the -power of generalising, and in the shortness and simplicity of the means -employed.</p> - -<p>Many artists, as Vasari likewise observes, have ignorantly imagined they -are imitating the manner of Titian, when they leave their colours rough, -and neglect the detail; but, not possessing the principles on which he -wrought, they have produced what he calls <i>goffe pitture</i>, absurd -foolish pictures; for such will always be the consequence of affecting -dexterity without science, without selection, and without fixed -principles.</p> - -<p>Raffaelle and Titian seem to have looked at nature for different -purposes; they both had the power of extending their view to the whole; -but one looked only for the general effect as produced by form, the -other as produced by colour.</p> - -<p>We cannot entirely refuse to Titian the merit of attending to the -general <i>form</i> of his object, as well as colour; but his deficiency lay, -a deficiency at least when he is compared with Raffaelle, in not -possessing the power, like him, of correcting the form of his model by -any general idea of beauty in his own mind. Of this his St. Sebastian is -a particular instance. This figure appears to be a most exact -representation both of the form and the colour of the model, which he -then happened to have before him; it has all the force of nature, and -the colouring is flesh itself; but, unluckily, the model was of a bad -form, especially the legs. Titian has with as much care preserved these -defects, as he has imitated the beauty and brilliancy of the colouring. -In his colouring he was large and general, as in his design he was -minute and partial; in the one he was a genius, in the other not much -above a copier. I do not, however, speak now of all his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a>{178}</span> pictures; -instances enough may be produced in his works, where those observations -on his defects could not with any propriety be applied: but it is in the -manner or language, as it may be called, in which Titian and others of -that school express themselves, that their chief excellence lies. This -manner is in reality, in painting, what language is in poetry; we are -all sensible how differently the imagination is affected by the same -sentiment expressed in different words, and how mean or how grand the -same object appears when presented to us by different painters. Whether -it is the human figure, an animal, or even inanimate objects, there is -nothing, however unpromising in appearance, but may be raised into -dignity, convey sentiment, and produce emotion, in the hands of a -painter of genius. What was said of Virgil, that he threw even the dung -about the ground with an air of dignity, may be applied to Titian: -whatever he touched, however naturally mean, and habitually familiar, by -a kind of magic he invested with grandeur and importance.</p> - -<p>I must here observe, that I am not recommending a neglect of the detail; -indeed it would be difficult, if not impossible, to prescribe <i>certain</i> -bounds, and tell how far, or when it is to be observed or neglected; -much must, at last, be left to the taste and judgment of the artist. I -am well aware that a judicious detail will sometimes give the force of -truth to the work, and consequently interest the spectator. I only wish -to impress on your minds the true distinction between essential and -subordinate powers; and to show what qualities in the art claim your -<i>chief</i> attention, and what may, with the least injury to your -reputation, be neglected. Something, perhaps, always must be neglected; -the lesser ought then to give way to the greater; and since every work -can have but a limited time allotted<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a>{179}</span> to it (for even supposing a whole -life to be employed about one picture, it is still limited), it appears -more reasonable to employ that time to the best advantage, in contriving -various methods of composing the work,—in trying different effect of -light and shadow,—and employing the labour of correction in heightening -by a judicious adjustment of the parts the effects of the whole,—than -that the time should be taken up in minutely finishing those parts.</p> - -<p>But there is another kind of high finishing, which may safely be -condemned, as it seems to counteract its own purpose; that is, when the -artist, to avoid that hardness which proceeds from the outline cutting -against the ground, softens and blends the colours to excess: this is -what the ignorant call high finishing, but which tends to destroy the -brilliancy of colour, and the true effect of representation; which -consists very much in preserving the same proportion of sharpness and -bluntness that is found in natural objects. This extreme softening, -instead of producing the effect of softness, gives the appearance of -ivory, or some other hard substance, highly polished.</p> - -<p>The portraits of Cornelius Jansen appear to have this defect, and -consequently want that suppleness which is the characteristic of flesh; -whereas in the works of Vandyck we find that true mixture of softness -and hardness perfectly observed. The same defect may be found in the -manner of Vanderwerf, in opposition to that of Teniers; and such also, -we may add, is the manner of Raffaelle in his oil pictures, in -comparison with that of Titian.</p> - -<p>The name which Raffaelle has so justly maintained as the first of -painters, we may venture to say was not acquired by this laborious -attention. His apology may be made by saying that it was the manner of -his country; but if he had expressed his ideas with the facility and -eloquence, as it may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a>{180}</span> called, of Titian, his works would certainly -not have been less excellent; and that praise, which ages and nations -have poured out upon him, for possessing genius in the higher -attainments of art, would have been extended to them all.</p> - -<p>Those who are not conversant in works of art are often surprised at the -high value set by connoisseurs on drawings which appear careless, and in -every respect unfinished; but they are truly valuable; and their value -arises from this, that they give the idea of a whole; and this whole is -often expressed by a dexterous facility which indicates the true power -of a painter, even though roughly exerted: whether it consists in the -general composition, or the general form of each figure, or the turn of -the attitude which bestows grace and elegance. All this we may see fully -exemplified in the very skilful drawings of Parmegiano and Correggio. On -whatever account we value these drawings, it is certainly not for high -finishing, or a minute attention to particulars.</p> - -<p>Excellence in every part, and in every province of our art, from the -highest style of history down to the resemblances of still-life, will -depend on this power of extending the attention at once to the whole, -without which the greatest diligence is vain.</p> - -<p>I wish you to bear in mind, that when I speak of a whole, I do not mean -simply a <i>whole</i> as belonging to composition, but a <i>whole</i> with respect -to the general style of colouring; a <i>whole</i> with regard to the light -and shade; a <i>whole</i> of everything which may separately become the main -object of a painter.</p> - -<p>I remember a landscape-painter in Rome, who was known by the name of -Studio, from his patience in high finishing, in which he thought the -whole excellence of art consisted; so that he once endeavoured, as he -said, to represent every individual<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a>{181}</span> leaf on a tree. This picture I -never saw; but I am very sure that an artist, who looked only at the -general character of the species, the order of the branches, and the -masses of the foliage, would in a few minutes produce a more true -resemblance of trees, than this painter in as many months.</p> - -<p>A landscape-painter certainly ought to study anatomically (if I may use -the expression) all the objects which he paints; but when he is to turn -his studies to use, his skill, as a man of genius, will be displayed in -showing the general effect, preserving the same degree of hardness and -softness which the objects have in nature; for he applies himself to the -imagination, not to the curiosity, and works not for the virtuoso or the -naturalist, but for the common observer of life and nature. When he -knows his subject, he will know not only what to describe, but what to -omit; and this skill in leaving out is, in all things, a great part of -knowledge and wisdom.</p> - -<p>The same excellence of manner which Titian displayed in history or -portrait-painting is equally conspicuous in his landscapes, whether they -are professedly such, or serve only as backgrounds. One of the most -eminent of this latter kind is to be found in the picture of St. Pietro -Martire. The large trees, which are here introduced, are plainly -distinguished from each other by the different manner with which the -branches shoot from their trunks, as well as by their different foliage; -and the weeds in the foreground are varied in the same manner, just as -much as variety requires, and no more. When Algarotti, speaking of this -picture, praises it for the minute discriminations of the leaves and -plants, even, as he says, to excite the admiration of a botanist, his -intention was undoubtedly to give praise even at the expense of truth; -for he must have known, that this is not the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a>{182}</span> character of the picture; -but connoisseurs will always find in pictures what they think they ought -to find: he was not aware that he was giving a description injurious to -the reputation of Titian.</p> - -<p>Such accounts may be very hurtful to young artists, who never have had -an opportunity of seeing the work described; and they may possibly -conclude, that this great artist acquired the name of the Divine Titian -from his eminent attention to such trifling circumstances, which, in -reality, would not raise him above the level of the most ordinary -painter.</p> - -<p>We may extend these observations even to what seems to have but a -single, and that an individual object. The excellence of -portrait-painting, and we may add even the likeness, the character, and -countenance, as I have observed in another place, depend more upon the -general effect produced by the painter, than on the exact expression of -the peculiarities, or minute discrimination of the parts. The chief -attention of the artist is therefore employed in planting the features -in their proper places, which so much contributes to giving the effect -and true impression of the whole. The very peculiarities may be reduced -to classes and general descriptions; and there are therefore large ideas -to be found even in this contracted subject. He may afterwards labour -single features to what degree he thinks proper, but let him not forget -continually to examine, whether in finishing the parts he is not -destroying the general effect.</p> - -<p>It is certainly a thing to be wished, that all excellence were applied -to illustrate subjects that are interesting and worthy of being -commemorated; whereas, of half the pictures that are in the world, the -subject can be valued only as an occasion which set the artist to work: -and yet, our high estimation of such pictures, without considering or -perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a>{183}</span> without knowing the subject, shows how much our attention is -engaged by the art alone.</p> - -<p>Perhaps nothing that we can say will so clearly show the advantage and -excellence of this faculty, as that it confers the character of genius -on works that pretend to no other merit; in which is neither expression, -character nor dignity, and where none are interested in the subject. We -cannot refuse the character of genius to the Marriage of Paolo Veronese, -without opposing the general sense of mankind (great authorities have -called it the Triumph of Painting), or to the altar of St. Augustine at -Antwerp, by Rubens, which equally deserves that title, and for the same -reason. Neither of those pictures have any interesting story to support -them. That of Paolo Veronese is only a representation of a great -concourse of people at a dinner; and the subject of Rubens, if it may be -called a subject where nothing is doing, is an assembly of various -saints that lived in different ages. The whole excellence of those -pictures consists in mechanical dexterity, working, however, under the -influence of that comprehensive faculty which I have so often mentioned.</p> - -<p>It is by this, and this alone, that the mechanical power is ennobled, -and raised much above its natural rank. And it appears to me, that with -propriety it acquires this character, as an instance of that superiority -with which mind predominates over matter, by contracting into one whole -what nature has made multifarious.</p> - -<p>The great advantage of this idea of a whole is, that a greater quantity -of truth may be said to be contained and expressed in a few lines or -touches, than in the most laborious finishing of the parts, where this -is not regarded. It is upon this foundation that it stands; and the -justness of the observation would be confirmed by the ignorant in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a>{184}</span> art, -if it were possible to take their opinions unseduced by some false -notion of what they imagine they ought to see in a picture. As it is an -art, they think they ought to be pleased in proportion as they see that -art ostentatiously displayed; they will, from this supposition, prefer -neatness, high finishing, and gaudy colouring, to the truth, simplicity, -and unity of nature. Perhaps too, the totally ignorant beholder, like -the ignorant artist, cannot comprehend a whole, nor even what it means. -But if false notions do not anticipate their perceptions, they who are -capable of observation, and who, pretending to no skill, look only -straight forward, will praise and condemn in proportion as the painter -has succeeded in the effect of the whole. Here, general satisfaction, or -general dislike, though perhaps despised by the painter, as proceeding -from the ignorance of the principles of art, may yet help to regulate -his conduct, and bring back his attention to that which ought to be his -principal object, and from which he has deviated for the sake of minuter -beauties.</p> - -<p>An instance of this right judgment I once saw in a child, in going -through a gallery where there were many portraits of the last ages, -which, though neatly put out of hand, were very ill put together. The -child paid no attention to the neat finishing or naturalness of any bit -of drapery, but appeared to observe only the ungracefulness of the -persons represented, and put herself in the posture of every figure -which she saw in a forced and awkward attitude. The censure of nature, -uninformed, fastened upon the greatest fault that could be in a picture, -because it related to the character and management of the whole.</p> - -<p>I should be sorry, if what has been said should be understood to have -any tendency to encourage that carelessness which leaves work in an -unfinished<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a>{185}</span> state. I commend nothing for the want of exactness; I mean -to point out that kind of exactness which is the best, and which is -alone truly to be so esteemed.</p> - -<p>So far is my disquisition from giving countenance to idleness, that -there is nothing in our art which enforces such continual exertion and -circumspection, as an attention to the general effect of the whole. It -requires much study and much practice; it requires the painter’s entire -mind; whereas the parts may be finishing by nice touches, while his mind -is engaged on other matters; he may even hear a play or a novel read -without much disturbance. The artist who flatters his own indolence will -continually find himself evading this active exertion, and applying his -thoughts to the ease and laziness of highly finishing the parts; -producing at last what Cowley calls “laborious effects of idleness.”</p> - -<p>No work can be too much finished, provided the diligence employed be -directed to its proper object; but I have observed that an excessive -labour in the detail has, nine times in ten, been pernicious to the -general effect, even when it has been the labour of great masters. It -indicates a bad choice, which is an ill setting out in any undertaking.</p> - -<p>To give a right direction to your industry has been my principal purpose -in this discourse. It is this, which I am confident often makes the -difference between two students of equal capacities and of equal -industry. While the one is employing his labour on minute objects of -little consequence, the other is acquiring the art, and perfecting the -habit, of seeing nature in an extensive view, in its proper proportions, -and its due subordination of parts.</p> - -<p>Before I conclude, I must make one observation sufficiently connected -with the present subject.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a>{186}</span></p> - -<p>The same extension of mind which gives the excellence of genius to the -theory and mechanical practice of the art, will direct him likewise in -the method of study, and give him the superiority over those who -narrowly follow a more confined track of partial imitation. Whoever, in -order to finish his education, should travel to Italy, and spend his -whole time there only in copying pictures, and measuring statues or -buildings (though these things are not to be neglected), would return -with little improvement. He that imitates the Iliad, says Dr. Young, is -not imitating Homer. It is not by laying up in the memory the particular -details of any of the great works of art, that any man becomes a great -artist, if he stops without making himself master of the general -principles on which these works are conducted. If he even hopes to rival -those whom he admires, he must consider their works as the means of -teaching him the true art of seeing nature. When this is acquired, he -then may be said to have appropriated their powers, or at least the -foundation of their powers, to himself; the rest must depend upon his -own industry and application. The great business of study is to form a -<i>mind</i>, adapted and adequate to all times and all occasions; to which -all nature is then laid open, and which may be said to possess the key -of her inexhaustible riches.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a>{187}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_XII" id="DISCOURSE_XII"></a>DISCOURSE XII<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1784.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">Particular Methods of Study of Little Consequence.—Little of the -Art can be taught.—Love of Method often a Love of Idleness. -Pittori Improvvisatori apt to be Careless and Incorrect; seldom -Original and Striking. This proceeds from their not studying the -Works of Other Masters.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"> -<span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> consequence of the situation in which I have the honour to be placed -in this Academy, it has often happened, that I have been consulted by -the young students who intend to spend some years in Italy, concerning -the method of regulating their studies. I am, as I ought to be, -solicitously desirous to communicate the entire result of my experience -and observation; and though my openness and facility in giving my -opinions might make some amends for whatever was defective in them, yet -I fear my answers have not often given satisfaction. Indeed I have never -been sure that I understood perfectly what they meant, and was not -without some suspicion that they had not themselves very distinct ideas -of the object of their inquiry.</p> - -<p>If the information required was, by what means the path that leads to -excellence could be discovered; if they wished to know whom they were to -take for their guides; what to adhere to, and what to avoid; where they -were to bait, and where they were to take up their rest; what was to be -tasted only, and what should be their diet; such general directions are -certainly proper for a student to ask, and for me, to the best of my -capacity, to give; but these rules have been already given: they have in -reality been the subject of almost all my discourses from this<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a>{188}</span> place. -But I am rather inclined to think, that by <i>method of study</i>, it was -meant (as several do mean), that the times and the seasons should be -prescribed, and the order settled, in which everything was to be done: -that it might be useful to point out to what degree of excellence one -part of the art was to be carried, before the student proceeded to the -next; how long he was to continue to draw from the ancient statues, when -to begin to compose, and when to apply to the study of colouring.</p> - -<p>Such a detail of instruction might be extended with a great deal of -plausible and ostentatious amplification. But it would at best be -useless. Our studies will be for ever, in a very great degree, under the -direction of chance; like travellers, we must take what we can get, and -when we can get it; whether it is or is not administered to us in the -most commodious manner, in the most proper place, or at the exact minute -when we would wish to have it.</p> - -<p>Treatises on education, and method of study, have always appeared to me -to have one general fault. They proceed upon a false supposition of -life; as if we possessed not only a power over events and circumstances, -but had a greater power over ourselves than I believe any of us will be -found to possess. Instead of supposing ourselves to be perfect patterns -of wisdom and virtue, it seems to me more reasonable to treat ourselves -(as I am sure we must now and then treat others) like humoursome -children, whose fancies are often to be indulged, in order to keep them -in good humour with themselves and their pursuits. It is necessary to -use some artifice of this kind in all processes which by their very -nature are long, tedious, and complex, in order to prevent our taking -that aversion to our studies which the continual shackles of methodical -restraint are sure to produce.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a>{189}</span></p> - -<p>I would rather wish a student, as soon as he goes abroad, to employ -himself upon whatever he has been incited to by any immediate impulse, -than to go sluggishly about a prescribed task: whatever he does in such -a state of mind, little advantage accrues from it, as nothing sinks deep -enough to leave any lasting impression; and it is impossible that -anything should be well understood, or well done, that is taken into a -reluctant understanding, and executed with a servile hand.</p> - -<p>It is desirable, and indeed is necessary to intellectual health, that -the mind should be recreated and refreshed with a variety in our -studies; that in the irksomeness of uniform pursuit we should be -relieved, and, if I may so say, deceived, as much as possible. Besides, -the minds of men are so very differently constituted, that it is -impossible to find one method which shall be suitable to all. It is of -no use to prescribe to those who have no talents; and those who have -talents will find methods for themselves—methods dictated to them by -their own particular dispositions, and by the experience of their own -particular necessities.</p> - -<p>However, I would not be understood to extend this doctrine to the -younger students. The first part of the life of a student, like that of -other schoolboys, must necessarily be a life of restraint. The grammar, -the rudiments, however unpalatable, must at all events be mastered. -After a habit is acquired of drawing correctly from the model (whatever -it may be) which he has before him, the rest, I think, may be safely -left to chance; always supposing that the student is <i>employed</i>, and -that his studies are directed to the proper object.</p> - -<p>A passion for his art, and an eager desire to excel, will more than -supply the place of method. By leaving a student to himself, he may -possibly indeed be led to undertake matters above his strength: but<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a>{190}</span> the -trial will at least have this advantage, it will discover to himself his -own deficiencies; and this discovery alone is a very considerable -acquisition. One inconvenience, I acknowledge, may attend bold and -arduous attempts; frequent failure may discourage. This evil, however, -is not more pernicious than the slow proficiency which is the natural -consequence of too easy tasks.</p> - -<p>Whatever advantages method may have in dispatch of business (and there -it certainly has many), I have but little confidence of its efficacy in -acquiring excellence in any art whatever. Indeed, I have always strongly -suspected that this love of method, on which some persons appear to -place so great dependence, is, in reality, at the bottom, a love of -idleness; a want of sufficient energy to put themselves into immediate -action: it is a sort of an apology to themselves for doing nothing. I -have known artists who may truly be said to have spent their whole -lives, or at least the most precious part of their lives, in planning -methods of study, without ever beginning; resolving, however, to put it -all in practice at some time or other,—when a certain period -arrives,—when proper conveniences are procured,—or when they remove to -a certain place better calculated for study. It is not uncommon for such -persons to go abroad with the most honest and sincere resolution of -studying hard, when they shall arrive at the end of their journey. The -same want of exertion, arising from the same cause which made them at -home put off the day of labour until they had found a proper scheme for -it, still continues in Italy, and they consequently return home with -little, if any, improvement.</p> - -<p>In the practice of art, as well as in morals, it is necessary to keep a -watchful and jealous eye over ourselves: idleness, assuming the specious -disguise of industry, will lull to sleep all suspicion of our<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a>{191}</span> want of -an active exertion of strength. A provision of endless apparatus, a -bustle of infinite inquiry and research, or even the mere mechanical -labour of copying, may be employed, to evade and shuffle off real -labour,—the real labour of thinking.</p> - -<p>I have declined for these reasons to point out any particular method and -course of study to young artists on their arrival in Italy. I have left -it to their own prudence, a prudence which will grow and improve upon -them in the course of unremitted, ardent industry, directed by a real -love of their profession, and an unfeigned admiration of those who have -been universally admitted as patterns of excellence in the art.</p> - -<p>In the exercise of that general prudence, I shall here submit to their -consideration such miscellaneous observations as have occurred to me on -considering the mistaken notions or evil habits, which have prevented -that progress towards excellence, which the natural abilities of several -artists might otherwise have enabled them to make.</p> - -<p>False opinions and vicious habits have done far more mischief to -students, and to professors too, than any wrong methods of study.</p> - -<p>Under the influence of sloth, or of some mistaken notion, is that -disposition which always wants to lean on other men. Such students are -always talking of the prodigious progress they should make, if they -could but have the advantage of being taught by some particular eminent -master. To him they would wish to transfer that care which they ought -and must take of themselves. Such are to be told, that after the -rudiments are past, very little of our art can be taught by others. The -most skilful master can do little more than put the end of the clue into -the hands of his scholar, by which he must conduct himself.</p> - -<p>It is true the beauties and defects of the works of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a>{192}</span> our predecessors -may be pointed out; the principles on which their works are conducted -may be explained; the great examples of ancient art may be spread out -before them; but the most sumptuous entertainment is prepared in vain, -if the guests will not take the trouble of helping themselves.</p> - -<p>Even the Academy itself, where every convenience for study is procured, -and laid before them, may, from that very circumstance, from leaving no -difficulties to be encountered in the pursuit, cause a remission of -their industry. It is not uncommon to see young artists, whilst they are -struggling with every obstacle in their way, exert themselves with such -success as to outstrip competitors possessed of every means of -improvement. The promising expectation which was formed, on so much -being done with so little means, has recommended them to a patron, who -has supplied them with every convenience of study; from that time their -industry and eagerness of pursuit has forsaken them; they stand still, -and see others rush on before them.</p> - -<p>Such men are like certain animals, who will feed only when there is but -little provender, and that got at with difficulty through the bars of a -rack, but refuse to touch it when there is an abundance before them.</p> - -<p>Perhaps such a falling off may proceed from the faculties being -overpowered by the immensity of the materials; as the traveller despairs -ever to arrive at the end of his journey, when the whole extent of the -road which he is to pass is at once displayed to his view.</p> - -<p>Among the first moral qualities, therefore, which a student ought to -cultivate, is a just and manly confidence in himself, or rather in the -effects of that persevering industry when he is resolved to possess.</p> - -<p>When Raffaelle, by means of his connection with Bramante, the Pope’s -architect, was fixed upon to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a>{193}</span> adorn the Vatican with his works, he had -done nothing that marked in him any great superiority over his -contemporaries; though he was then but young, he had under his direction -the most considerable artists of his age; and we know what kind of men -those were: a lesser mind would have sunk under such a weight; and if we -should judge from the meek and gentle disposition which we are told was -the character of Raffaelle, we might expect this would have happened to -him; but his strength appeared to increase in proportion as exertion was -required; and it is not improbable that we are indebted to the good -fortune which first placed him in that conspicuous situation, for those -great examples of excellence which he has left us.</p> - -<p>The observations to which I formerly wished, and now desire, to point -your attention, relate not to errors which are committed by those who -have no claim to merit, but to those inadvertences into which men of -parts only can fall by the overrating or the abuse of some real, though -perhaps subordinate, excellence. The errors last alluded to are those of -backward, timid characters; what I shall now speak of belong to another -class, to those artists who are distinguished for the readiness and -facility of their invention. It is undoubtedly a splendid and desirable -accomplishment to be able to design instantaneously any given subject. -It is an excellence that I believe every artist would wish to possess; -but unluckily, the manner in which this dexterity is acquired, -habituates the mind to be contented with first thoughts without choice -or selection. The judgment, after it has been long passive, by degrees -loses its power of becoming active when exertion is necessary.</p> - -<p>Whoever, therefore, has this talent, must in some measure undo what he -has had the habit of doing, or at least give a new turn to his mind: -great works,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a>{194}</span> which are to live and stand the criticism of posterity, -are not performed at a heat. A proportionable time is required for -deliberation and circumspection. I remember when I was at Rome looking -at the fighting gladiator, in company with an eminent sculptor, and I -expressed my admiration of the skill with which the whole is composed, -and the minute attention of the artist to the change of every muscle in -that momentary exertion of strength, he was of opinion that a work so -perfect required nearly the whole life of man to perform.</p> - -<p>I believe, if we look around us, we shall find, that in the sister art -of poetry, what has been soon done has been as soon forgotten. The -judgment and practice of a great poet on this occasion is worthy -attention. Metastasio, who has so much and justly distinguished himself -throughout Europe, at his outset was an <i>improvvisatore</i>, or extempore -poet, a description of men not uncommon in Italy: it is not long since -he was asked by a friend if he did not think the custom of inventing and -reciting <i>extempore</i>, which he practised when a boy in his character of -an <i>improvvisatore</i>, might not be considered as a happy beginning of his -education; he thought it, on the contrary, a disadvantage to him: he -said that he had acquired by that habit a carelessness and -incorrectness, which it cost him much trouble to overcome, and to -substitute in the place of it a totally different habit, that of -thinking with selection, and of expressing himself with correctness and -precision.</p> - -<p>However extraordinary it may appear, it is certainly true, that the -inventions of the <i>pittori improvvisatori</i>, as they may be called, -have,—notwithstanding the common boast of their authors that all is -spun from their own brain,—very rarely anything that has in the least -the air of originality:—their compositions are generally commonplace, -uninteresting, without character or expression, like those<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a>{195}</span> flowery -speeches that we sometimes hear, which impress no new ideas on the mind.</p> - -<p>I would not be thought, however, by what has been said, to oppose the -use, the advantage, the necessity there is, of a painter’s being readily -able to express his ideas by sketching. The further he can carry such -designs, the better. The evil to be apprehended is his resting there, -and not correcting them afterwards from nature, or taking the trouble to -look about him for whatever assistance the works of others will afford -him.</p> - -<p>We are not to suppose, that when a painter sits down to deliberate on -any work, he has all his knowledge to seek; he must not only be able to -draw <i>extempore</i> the human figure in every variety of action, but he -must be acquainted likewise with the general principles of composition, -and possess a habit of foreseeing, while he is composing, the effect of -the masses of light and shadow, that will attend such a disposition. His -mind is entirely occupied by his attention to the whole. It is a -subsequent consideration to determine the attitude and expression of -individual figures. It is in this period of his work that I would -recommend to every artist to look over his portfolio, or pocket-book, in -which he has treasured up all the happy inventions, all the -extraordinary and expressive attitudes that he has met with in the -course of his studies; not only for the sake of borrowing from those -studies whatever may be applicable to his own work, but likewise on -account of the great advantage he will receive by bringing the ideas of -great artists more distinctly before his mind, which will teach him to -invent other figures in a similar style.</p> - -<p>Sir Francis Bacon speaks with approbation of the provisionary methods -Demosthenes and Cicero employed to assist their invention: and -illustrates their use by a quaint comparison after his manner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a>{196}</span> These -particular <i>Studios</i> being not immediately connected with our art, I -need not cite the passage I allude to, and shall only observe that such -preparation totally opposes the general received opinions that are -floating in the world concerning genius and inspiration. The same great -man in another place, speaking of his own essays, remarks, that they -treat of “those things, wherein both men’s lives and persons are most -conversant, whereof a man shall find much in experience, but little in -books”; they are then what an artist would naturally call invention; and -yet we may suspect that even the genius of Bacon, great as it was, would -never have been enabled to have made those observations, if his mind had -not been trained and disciplined by reading the observations of others. -Nor could he without such reading have known that those opinions were -not to be found in other books.</p> - -<p>I know there are many artists of great fame, who appear never to have -looked out of themselves, and who probably would think it derogatory to -their character, to be supposed to borrow from any other painter. But -when we recollect, and compare the works of such men with those who took -to their assistance the inventions of others, we shall be convinced of -the great advantage of this latter practice.</p> - -<p>The two men most eminent for readiness of invention, that occur to me, -are Luca Giordano and La Fage; one in painting, and the other in -drawing.</p> - -<p>To such extraordinary powers as were possessed by both of those artists, -we cannot refuse the character of genius; at the same time, it must be -acknowledged that it was that kind of mechanic genius which operates -without much assistance of the head. In all their works, which are (as -might be expected) very numerous, we may look in vain for anything that -can be said to be original and striking; and yet, according to the -ordinary ideas of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a>{197}</span> originality, they have as good pretensions as most -painters; for they borrowed very little from others, and still less will -any artist, that can distinguish between excellence and insipidity, ever -borrow from them.</p> - -<p>To those men, and all such, let us oppose the practice of the first of -painters. I suppose we shall all agree that no man ever possessed a -greater power of invention, and stood less in need of foreign -assistance, than Raffaelle; and yet, when he was designing one of his -greatest as well as latest works, the cartoons, it is very apparent that -he had the studies which he had made from Masaccio before him. Two noble -figures of St. Paul, which he found there, he adopted in his own work: -one of them he took for St. Paul preaching at Athens; and the other for -the same saint, when chastising the sorcerer Elymas. Another figure in -the same work, whose head is sunk in his breast, with his eyes shut, -appearing deeply wrapped up in thought, was introduced amongst the -listeners to the preaching of St. Paul. The most material alteration -that is made in those two figures of St. Paul is the addition of the -left hands, which are not seen in the original. It is a rule that -Raffaelle observed (and indeed ought never to be dispensed with), in a -principal figure, to show both hands; that it should never be a -question, what is become of the other hand. For the Sacrifice at Listra, -he took the whole ceremony much as it stands in an ancient -basso-relievo, since published in the <i>Admiranda</i>.</p> - -<p>I have given examples from those pictures only of Raffaelle which we -have among us, though many other instances might be produced of this -great painter’s not disdaining assistance: indeed his known wealth was -so great, that he might borrow where he pleased without loss of credit.</p> - -<p>It may be remarked, that this work of Masaccio,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a>{198}</span> from which he has -borrowed so freely, was a public work, and at no farther distance from -Rome than Florence; so that if he had considered it a disgraceful theft, -he was sure to be detected; but he was well satisfied that his character -for invention would be little affected by such a discovery; nor is it, -except in the opinion of those who are ignorant of the manner in which -great works are built.</p> - -<p>Those who steal from mere poverty; who, having nothing of their own, -cannot exist a minute without making such depredations; who are so poor -that they have no place in which they can even deposit what they have -taken; to men of this description nothing can be said: but such artists -as those to whom I suppose myself now speaking, men whom I consider as -competently provided with all the necessaries and conveniences of art, -and who do not desire to steal baubles and common trash, but wish only -to possess peculiar rarities which they select to ornament their -cabinets, and take care to enrich the general store with materials of -equal or of greater value than what they have taken; such men surely -need not be ashamed of that friendly intercourse which ought to exist -among artists, of receiving from the dead and giving to the living, and -perhaps to those who are yet unborn.</p> - -<p>The daily food and nourishment of the mind of an artist is found in the -great works of his predecessors. There is no other way for him to become -great himself. <i>Serpens, nisi serpentem comederit, non fit draco</i>,<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> -is a remark of a whimsical Natural History, which I have read, though I -do not recollect its title; however false as to dragons, it is -applicable enough to artists.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a>{199}</span></p> - -<p>Raffaelle, as appears from what has been said, had carefully studied the -works of Masaccio; and indeed there was no other, if we except Michael -Angelo (whom he likewise imitated), so worthy of his attention; and -though his manner was dry and hard, his compositions formal, and not -enough diversified, according to the custom of painters in that early -period, yet his works possess that grandeur and simplicity which -accompany, and even sometimes proceed from, regularity and hardness of -manner. We must consider the barbarous state of the arts before his -time, when skill in drawing was so little understood, that the best of -the painters could not even foreshorten the foot, but every figure -appeared to stand upon his toes; and what served for drapery had, from -the hardness and smallness of the folds, too much the appearance of -cords clinging round the body. He first introduced large drapery, -flowing in an easy and natural manner: indeed he appears to be the first -who discovered the path that leads to every excellence to which the art -afterwards arrived, and may therefore be justly considered as one of the -great fathers of modern art.</p> - -<p>Though I have been led on to a longer digression respecting this great -painter than I intended, yet I cannot avoid mentioning another -excellence which he possessed in a very eminent degree; he was as much -distinguished among his contemporaries for his diligence and industry, -as he was for the natural faculties of his mind. We are told, that his -whole attention was absorbed in the pursuit of his art, and that he -acquired the name of Masaccio<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> from his total disregard to his dress, -his person, and all the common concerns of life. He is indeed a signal -instance of what well-directed diligence will do in a short<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a>{200}</span> time; he -lived but twenty-seven years; yet in that short space carried the art so -far beyond what it had before reached, that he appears to stand alone as -a model for his successors. Vasari gives a long catalogue of painters -and sculptors, who formed their taste, and learned their art, by -studying his works; among those, he names Michael Angelo, Lionardo da -Vinci, Pietro Perugino, Raffaelle, Bartolomeo, Andrea del Sarto, Il -Rosso, and Pierino del Vaga.</p> - -<p>The habit of contemplating and brooding over the ideas of great -geniuses, till you find yourself warmed by the contact, is the true -method of forming an artist-like mind; it is impossible, in the presence -of those great men, to think, or invent in a mean manner; a state of -mind is acquired that receives those ideas only which relish of grandeur -and simplicity.</p> - -<p>Beside the general advantage of forming the taste by such an -intercourse, there is another of a particular kind, which was suggested -to me by the practice of Raffaelle, when imitating the work of which I -have been speaking. The figure of the Pro-consul, Sergius Paulus, is -taken from the Felix of Masaccio, though one is a front figure, and the -other seen in profile; the action is likewise somewhat changed; but it -is plain Raffaelle had that figure in his mind. There is a circumstance -indeed, which I mention by the bye, which marks it very particularly; -Sergius Paulus wears a crown of laurel; this is hardly reconcilable to -strict propriety and the <i>costume</i>, of which Raffaelle was in general a -good observer; but he found it so in Masaccio, and he did not bestow so -much pains in disguise as to change it. It appears to me to be an -excellent practice, thus to suppose the figures which you wish to adopt -in the works of those great painters to be statues; and to give, as -Raffaelle has here given,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a>{201}</span> another view, taking care to preserve all the -spirit and grace you find in the original.</p> - -<p>I should hope, from what has been lately said, that it is not necessary -to guard myself against any supposition of recommending an entire -dependence upon former masters. I do not desire that you should get -other people to do your business, or to think for you; I only wish you -to consult with, to call in, as counsellors, men the most distinguished -for their knowledge and experience, the result of which counsel must -ultimately depend upon yourself. Such conduct in the commerce of life -has never been considered as disgraceful, or in any respect to imply -intellectual imbecility; it is a sign rather of that true wisdom, which -feels individual imperfection, and is conscious to itself how much -collective observation is necessary to fill the immense extent, and to -comprehend the infinite variety, of nature. I recommend neither -self-dependence nor plagiarism. I advise you only to take that -assistance which every human being wants, and which, as appears from the -examples that have been given, the greatest painters have not disdained -to accept. Let me add, that the diligence required in the search, and -the exertion subsequent in accommodating those ideas to your own -purpose, is a business which idleness will not, and ignorance cannot, -perform. But in order more distinctly to explain what kind of borrowing -I mean, when I recommend so anxiously the study of the works of great -masters, let us for a minute return again to Raffaelle, consider his -method of practice, and endeavour to imitate him, in his manner of -imitating others.</p> - -<p>The two figures of St. Paul which I lately mentioned, are so nobly -conceived by Masaccio, that perhaps it was not in the power even of -Raffaelle himself to raise and improve them, nor has he attempted it; -but he has had the address to change in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a>{202}</span> some measure without -diminishing the grandeur of their character; he has substituted, in the -place of a serene composed dignity, that animated expression which was -necessary to the more active employment he has assigned them.</p> - -<p>In the same manner he has given more animation to the figure of Sergius -Paulus, and to that which is introduced in the picture of St. Paul -preaching, of which little more than hints are given by Masaccio, which -Raffaelle has finished. The closing the eyes of this figure, which in -Masaccio might be easily mistaken for sleeping, is not in the least -ambiguous in the cartoon: his eyes indeed are closed, but they are -closed with such vehemence, that the agitation of a mind <i>perplexed in -the extreme</i> is seen at the first glance; but what is most -extraordinary, and I think particularly to be admired, is, that the same -idea is continued through the whole figure, even to the drapery, which -is so closely muffled about him, that even his hands are not seen; by -this happy correspondence between the expression of the countenance, and -the disposition of the parts, the figure appears to think from head to -foot. Men of superior talents alone are capable of thus using and -adapting other men’s minds to their own purposes, or are able to make -out and finish what was only in the original a hint or imperfect -conception. A readiness in taking such hints, which escape the dull and -ignorant, makes in my opinion no inconsiderable part of that faculty of -the mind which is called genius.</p> - -<p>It often happens that hints may be taken and employed in a situation -totally different from that in which they were originally employed. -There is a figure of a Bacchante leaning backward, her head thrown quite -behind her, which seems to be a favourite invention, as it is so -frequently repeated in basso-relievos, cameos, and intaglios; it is -intended<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a>{203}</span> to express an enthusiastic frantic kind of joy. This figure -Baccio Bandinelli, in a drawing that I have of that master, of the -Descent from the Cross, has adopted (and he knew very well what was -worth borrowing) for one of the Marys, to express frantic agony of -grief. It is curious to observe, and it is certainly true, that the -extremes of contrary passions are with very little variation expressed -by the same action.</p> - -<p>If I were to recommend method in any part of the study of a painter, it -would be in regard to invention; that young students should not presume -to think themselves qualified to invent, till they were acquainted with -those stores of invention the world already possesses, and had by that -means accumulated sufficient materials for the mind to work with. It -would certainly be no improper method of forming the mind of a young -artist, to begin with such exercises as the Italians call a <i>pasticcio</i> -composition of the different excellences which are dispersed in all -other works of the same kind. It is not supposed that he is to stop -here, but that he is to acquire by this means the art of selecting, -first what is truly excellent in art, and then what is still more -excellent in nature; a task which, without this previous study, he will -be but ill qualified to perform.</p> - -<p>The doctrine which is here advanced, is acknowledged to be new, and to -many may appear strange. But I only demand for it the reception of a -stranger; a favourable and attentive consideration, without that entire -confidence which might be claimed under authoritative recommendation.</p> - -<p>After you have taken a figure, or any idea of a figure, from any of -those great painters, there is another operation still remaining, which -I hold to be indispensably necessary, that is, never to neglect -finishing from nature every part of the work. What is taken from a -model, though the first idea may<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a>{204}</span> have been suggested by another, you -have a just right to consider as your own property. And here I cannot -avoid mentioning a circumstance in placing the model, though to some it -may appear trifling. It is better to possess the model with the attitude -you require, than to place him with your own hands: by this means it -happens often that the model puts himself in an action superior to your -own imagination. It is a great matter to be in the way of accident, and -to be watchful and ready to take advantage of it: besides, when you fix -the position of a model, there is danger of putting him in an attitude -into which no man would naturally fall. This extends even to drapery. We -must be cautious in touching and altering a fold of the stuff, which -serves as a model, for fear of giving it inadvertently a forced form; -and it is perhaps better to take the chance of another casual throw, -than to alter the position in which it was at first accidentally cast.</p> - -<p>Rembrandt, in order to take the advantage of accident, appears often to -have used the palette-knife to lay his colours on the canvas, instead of -the pencil. Whether it is the knife or any other instrument, it suffices -if it is something that does not follow exactly the will. Accident in -the hands of an artist who knows how to take the advantage of its hints, -will often produce bold and capricious beauties of handling and -facility, such as he would not have thought of, or ventured, with his -pencil, under the regular restraint of his hand. However, this is fit -only on occasions where no correctness of form is required, such as -clouds, stumps of trees, rocks, or broken ground. Works produced in an -accidental manner will have the same free unrestrained air as the works -of nature, whose particular combinations seem to depend upon accident.</p> - -<p>I again repeat, you are never to lose sight of nature; the instant you -do, you are all abroad, at<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a>{205}</span> the mercy of every gust of fashion, without -knowing or seeing the point to which you ought to steer. Whatever trips -you make, you must still have nature in your eye. Such deviations as art -necessarily requires, I hope in a future discourse to be able to -explain. In the meantime, let me recommend to you, not to have too great -dependence on your practice or memory, however strong those impressions -may have been which are there deposited. They are for ever wearing out, -and will be at last obliterated, unless they are continually refreshed -and repaired.</p> - -<p>It is not uncommon to meet with artists who, from a long neglect of -cultivating this necessary intimacy with nature, do not even know her -when they see her; she appearing a stranger to them, from their being so -long habituated to their own representation of her. I have heard -painters acknowledge, though in that acknowledgment no degradation of -themselves was intended, that they could do better without nature than -with her; or, as they expressed it themselves, <i>that it only put them -out</i>. A painter with such ideas and such habits is indeed in a most -hopeless state. <i>The art of seeing nature</i>, or, in other words, the art -of using models, is in reality the great object, the point to which all -our studies are directed. As for the power of being able to do tolerably -well, from practice alone, let it be valued according to its worth. But -I do not see in what manner it can be sufficient for the production of -correct, excellent, and finished pictures. Works deserving this -character never were produced, nor ever will arise, from memory alone; -and I will venture to say, that an artist who brings to his work a mind -tolerably furnished with the general principles of art, and a taste -formed upon the works of good artists, in short, who knows in what -excellence consists, will with the assistance of models, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a>{206}</span> we will -likewise suppose he has learned the art of using, be an over-match for -the greatest painter that ever lived who should be debarred such -advantages.</p> - -<p>Our neighbours, the French, are much in this practice of <i>extempore</i> -invention, and their dexterity is such as even to excite admiration, if -not envy; but how rarely can this praise be given to their finished -pictures!</p> - -<p>The late Director of their Academy, <i>Boucher</i>, was eminent in this way. -When I visited him some years since, in France, I found him at work on a -very large picture, without drawings or models of any kind. On my -remarking this particular circumstance, he said, when he was young, -studying his art, he found it necessary to use models; but he had left -them off for many years.</p> - -<p>Such pictures as this was, and such as I fear always will be produced by -those who work solely from practice or memory, may be a convincing proof -of the necessity of the conduct which I have recommended. However, in -justice I cannot quit this painter without adding, that in the former -part of his life, when he was in the habit of having recourse to nature, -he was not without a considerable degree of merit,—enough to make half -the painters of his country his imitators; he had often grace and -beauty, and good skill in composition; but, I think all under the -influence of a bad taste: his imitators are indeed abominable.</p> - -<p>Those artists who have quitted the service of nature (whose service, -when well understood, is <i>perfect freedom</i>), and have put themselves -under the direction of I know not what capricious fantastical mistress, -who fascinates and overpowers their whole mind, and from whose dominion -there are no hopes of their being ever reclaimed (since they appear -perfectly satisfied, and not at all conscious<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a>{207}</span> of their forlorn -situation), like the transformed followers of Comus,—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not once perceive their foul disfigurement;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But boast themselves more comely than before.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Methinks such men, who have found out so short a path, have no reason to -complain of the shortness of life, and the extent of art; since life is -so much longer than is wanted for their improvement, or indeed is -necessary for the accomplishment of their idea of perfection. On the -contrary, he who recurs to nature, at every recurrence renews his -strength. The rules of art he is never likely to forget; they are few -and simple; but nature is refined, subtle, and infinitely various, -beyond the power and retention of memory; it is necessary, therefore, to -have continual recourse to her. In this intercourse, there is no end of -his improvement; the longer he lives, the nearer he approaches to the -true and perfect idea of art.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_XIII" id="DISCOURSE_XIII"></a>DISCOURSE XIII<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 11, 1786.</i></h2> - -<p class="hang"> -Art not merely Imitation, but under the Direction of the<br /> -Imagination. In what Manner Poetry, Painting, Acting,<br /> -Gardening, and Architecture depart from Nature.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"> -<span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">To</span> discover beauties, or to point out faults, in the works of celebrated -masters, and to compare the conduct of one artist with another, is -certainly no mean or inconsiderable part of criticism; but this is still -no more than to know the art through the artist. This test of -investigation must have two capital defects; it must be narrow, and it -must be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a>{208}</span> uncertain. To enlarge the boundaries of the art of painting, as -well as to fix its principles, it will be necessary, that <i>that</i> art and -<i>those</i> principles should be considered in their correspondence with the -principles of the other arts which, like this, address themselves -primarily and principally to the imagination. When those connected and -kindred principles are brought together to be compared, another -comparison will grow out of this; that is, the comparison of them all -with those of human nature, from whence arts derive the materials upon -which they are to produce their effects.</p> - -<p>When this comparison of art with art, and of all arts with the nature of -man, is once made with success, our guiding lines are as well -ascertained and established, as they can be in matters of this -description.</p> - -<p>This, as it is the highest style of criticism, is at the same time the -soundest; for it refers to the eternal and immutable nature of things.</p> - -<p>You are not to imagine that I mean to open to you at large, or to -recommend to your research, the whole of this vast field of science. It -is certainly much above my faculties to reach it; and though it may not -be above yours to comprehend it fully, if it were fully and properly -brought before you, yet perhaps the most perfect criticism requires -habits of speculation and abstraction, not very consistent with the -employment which ought to occupy and the habits of mind which ought to -prevail in a practical artist. I only point out to you these things, -that when you do criticise (as all who work on a plan will criticise -more or less), your criticism may be built on the foundation of true -principles; and that though you may not always travel a great way, the -way that you do travel may be the right road.</p> - -<p>I observe, as a fundamental ground, common to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a>{209}</span> all the arts with which -we have any concern in this discourse, that they address themselves only -to two faculties of the mind, its imagination and its sensibility.</p> - -<p>All theories which attempt to direct or to control the art, upon any -principles falsely called rational, which we form to ourselves upon a -supposition of what ought in reason to be the end or means of art, -independent of the known first effect produced by objects on the -imagination, must be false and delusive. For though it may appear bold -to say it, the imagination is here the residence of truth. If the -imagination be affected, the conclusion is fairly drawn; if it be not -affected, the reasoning is erroneous, because the end is not obtained; -the effect itself being the test, and the only test, of the truth and -efficacy of the means.</p> - -<p>There is in the commerce of life, as in art, a sagacity which is far -from being contradictory to right reason, and is superior to any -occasional exercise of that faculty; which supersedes it; and does not -wait for the slow progress of deduction, but goes at once, by what -appears a kind of intuition, to the conclusion. A man endowed with this -faculty feels and acknowledges the truth, though it is not always in his -power, perhaps, to give a reason for it; because he cannot recollect and -bring before him all the materials that gave birth to his opinion; for -very many and very intricate considerations may unite to form the -principle, even of small and minute parts, involved in, or dependent on, -a great system of things: though these in process of time are forgotten, -the right impression still remains fixed in his mind.</p> - -<p>This impression is the result of the accumulated experience of our whole -life, and has been collected, we do not always know how, or when. But -this mass of collective observation, however acquired,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a>{210}</span> ought to prevail -over that reason, which, however powerfully exerted on any particular -occasion, will probably comprehend but a partial view of the subject; -and our conduct in life as well as in the arts is, or ought to be, -generally governed by this habitual reason: it is our happiness that we -are enabled to draw on such funds. If we were obliged to enter into a -theoretical deliberation on every occasion, before we act, life would be -at a stand, and art would be impracticable.</p> - -<p>It appears to me, therefore, that our first thoughts, that is, the -effect which anything produces on our minds, on its first appearance, is -never to be forgotten; and it demands for that reason, because it is the -first, to be laid up with care. If this be not done, the artist may -happen to impose on himself by partial reasoning; by a cold -consideration of those animated thoughts which proceed, not perhaps from -caprice or rashness (as he may afterwards conceit), but from the fulness -of his mind, enriched with the copious stores of all the various -inventions which he had ever seen, or had ever passed in his mind. These -ideas are infused into his design, without any conscious effort; but if -he be not on his guard, he may reconsider and correct them, till the -whole matter is reduced to a commonplace invention.</p> - -<p>This is sometimes the effect of what I mean to caution you against; that -is to say, an unfounded distrust of the imagination and feeling, in -favour of narrow, partial, confined, argumentative theories; and of -principles that seem to apply to the design in hand; without considering -those general impressions on the fancy in which real principles of -<i>sound reason</i>, and of much more weight and importance, are involved, -and, as it were, lie hid, under the appearance of a sort of vulgar -sentiment.</p> - -<p>Reason, without doubt, must ultimately determine<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a>{211}</span> everything; at this -minute it is required to inform us when that very reason is to give way -to feeling.</p> - -<p>Though I have often spoken of that mean conception of our art which -confines it to mere imitation, I must add, that it may be narrowed to -such a mere matter of experiment, as to exclude from it the application -of science, which alone gives dignity and compass to any art. But to -find proper foundations for science is neither to narrow nor to -vulgarise it; and this is sufficiently exemplified in the success of -experimental philosophy. It is the false system of reasoning, grounded -on a partial view of things, against which I would most earnestly guard -you. And I do it the rather, because those narrow theories, so -coincident with the poorest and most miserable practice, and which are -adopted to give it countenance, have not had their origin in the poorest -minds, but in the mistakes, or possibly in the mistaken interpretations, -of great and commanding authorities. We are not therefore in this case -misled by feeling, but by false speculation.</p> - -<p>When such a man as Plato speaks of painting as only an imitative art, -and that our pleasure proceeds from observing and acknowledging the -truth of the imitation, I think he misleads us by a partial theory. It -is in this poor, partial, and so far false view of the art, that -Cardinal Bembo has chosen to distinguish even Raffaelle himself, whom -our enthusiasm honours with the name of Divine. The same sentiment is -adopted by Pope in his epitaph on Sir Godfrey Kneller; and he turns the -panegyric solely on imitation, as it is a sort of deception.</p> - -<p>I shall not think my time misemployed, if by any means I may contribute -to confirm your opinion of what ought to be the object of your pursuit; -because, though the best critics must always have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a>{212}</span> exploded this strange -idea, yet I know that there is a disposition towards a perpetual -recurrence to it, on account of its simplicity and superficial -plausibility. For this reason I shall beg leave to lay before you a few -thoughts on this subject; to throw out some hints that may lead your -minds to an opinion (which I take to be the truth), that painting is not -only to be considered as an imitation, operating by deception, but that -it is, and ought to be, in many points of view, and strictly speaking, -no imitation at all of external nature. Perhaps it ought to be as far -removed from the vulgar idea of imitation, as the refined civilised -state in which we live, is removed from a gross state of nature; and -those who have not cultivated their imaginations, which the majority of -mankind certainly have not, may be said, in regard to arts, to continue -in this state of nature. Such men will always prefer imitation to that -excellence which is addressed to another faculty that they do not -possess; but these are not the persons to whom a painter is to look, any -more than a judge of morals and manners ought to refer controverted -points upon those subjects to the opinions of people taken from the -banks of the Ohio, or from New Holland.</p> - -<p>It is the lowest style only of arts, whether of painting, poetry, or -music, that may be said, in the vulgar sense, to be naturally pleasing. -The higher efforts of those arts, we know by experience, do not affect -minds wholly uncultivated. This refined taste is the consequence of -education and habit; we are born only with a capacity of entertaining -this refinement, as we are born with a disposition to receive and obey -all the rules and regulations of society; and so far it may be said to -be natural to us, and no further.</p> - -<p>What has been said, may show the artist how necessary it is, when he -looks about him for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213"></a>{213}</span> advice and criticism of his friends, to make -some distinction of the character, taste, experience, and observation in -this art of those from whom it is received. An ignorant uneducated man -may, like Apelles’s critic, be a competent judge of the truth of the -representation of a sandal; or to go somewhat higher, like Molière’s old -woman, may decide upon what is nature, in regard to comic humour; but a -critic in the higher style of art ought to possess the same refined -taste, which directed the artist in his work.</p> - -<p>To illustrate this principle by a comparison with other arts, I shall -now produce some instances to show, that they, as well as our own art, -renounce the narrow idea of nature, and the narrow theories derived from -that mistaken principle, and apply to that reason only which informs us -not what imitation is,—a natural representation of a given object,—but -what it is natural for the imagination to be delighted with. And perhaps -there is no better way of acquiring this knowledge, than by this kind of -analogy: each art will corroborate and mutually reflect the truth on the -other. Such a kind of juxtaposition may likewise have this use, that -whilst the artist is amusing himself in the contemplation of other arts, -he may habitually transfer the principles of those arts to that which he -professes; which ought to be always present to his mind, and to which -everything is to be referred.</p> - -<p>So far is art from being derived from, or having any immediate -intercourse with, particular nature as its model, that there are many -arts that set out with a professed deviation from it.</p> - -<p>This is certainly not so exactly true in regard to painting and -sculpture. Our elements are laid in gross common nature,—an exact -imitation of what is before us: but when we advance to the higher state, -we consider this power of imitation, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214"></a>{214}</span> first in the order of -acquisition, as by no means the highest in the scale of perfection.</p> - -<p>Poetry addresses itself to the same faculties and the same dispositions -as painting, though by different means. The object of both is to -accommodate itself to all the natural propensities and inclinations of -the mind. The very existence of poetry depends on the licence it assumes -of deviating from actual nature, in order to gratify natural -propensities by other means, which are found by experience full as -capable of affording such gratification. It sets out with a language in -the highest degree artificial, a construction of measured words, such as -never is, nor ever was used by man. Let this measure be what it may, -whether hexameter or any other metre used in Latin or Greek—or rhyme, -or blank verse varied with pauses and accents, in modern -languages,—they are all equally removed from nature, and equally a -violation of common speech. When this artificial mode has been -established as the vehicle of sentiment, there is another principle in -the human mind, to which the work must be referred, which still renders -it more artificial, carries it still further from common nature, and -deviates only to render it more perfect. That principle is the sense of -congruity, coherence, and consistency, which is a real existing -principle in man; and it must be gratified. Therefore having once -adopted a style and a measure not found in common discourse, it is -required that the sentiments also should be in the same proportion -elevated above common nature, from the necessity of there being an -agreement of the parts among themselves, that one uniform whole may be -produced.</p> - -<p>To correspond therefore with this general system of deviation from -nature, the manner in which poetry is offered to the ear, the tone in -which it is recited, should be as far removed from the tone of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215"></a>{215}</span> -conversation, as the words of which that poetry is composed. This -naturally suggests the idea of modulating the voice by art, which I -suppose may be considered as accomplished to the highest degree of -excellence in the recitative of the Italian Opera; as we may conjecture -it was in the chorus that attended the ancient drama. And though the -most violent passions, the highest distress, even death itself, are -expressed in singing or recitative, I would not admit as sound criticism -the condemnation of such exhibitions on account of their being -unnatural.</p> - -<p>If it is natural for our senses, and our imaginations, to be delighted -with singing, with instrumental music, with poetry, and with graceful -action, taken separately (none of them being in the vulgar sense -natural, even in that separate state); it is conformable to experience, -and therefore agreeable to reason as connected with and referred to -experience, that we should also be delighted with this union of music, -poetry, and graceful action, joined to every circumstance of pomp and -magnificence calculated to strike the senses of the spectator. Shall -reason stand in the way, and tell us that we ought not to like what we -know we do like, and prevent us from feeling the full effect of this -complicated exertion of art? This is what I would understand by poets -and painters being allowed to dare everything; for what can be more -daring, than accomplishing the purpose and end of art, by a complication -of means, none of which have their archetypes in actual nature?</p> - -<p>So far therefore is servile imitation from being necessary, that -whatever is familiar, or in any way reminds us of what we see and hear -every day, perhaps does not belong to the higher provinces of art, -either in poetry or painting. The mind is to be transported, as -Shakspeare expresses it, <i>beyond<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216"></a>{216}</span> the ignorant present</i> to ages past. -Another and a higher order of beings is supposed; and to those beings -everything which is introduced into the work must correspond. Of this -conduct, under these circumstances, the Roman and Florentine schools -afford sufficient examples. Their style by this means is raised and -elevated above all others; and by the same means the compass of art -itself is enlarged.</p> - -<p>We often see grave and great subjects attempted by artists of another -school; who, though excellent in the lower class of art, proceeding on -the principles which regulate that class, and not recollecting, or not -knowing, that they were to address themselves to another faculty of the -mind, have become perfectly ridiculous.</p> - -<p>The picture which I have at present in my thoughts is a sacrifice of -Iphigenia, painted by Jan Steen, a painter of whom I have formerly had -occasion to speak with the highest approbation; and even in this -picture, the subject of which is by no means adapted to his genius, -there is nature and expression; but it is such expression, and the -countenances are so familiar, and consequently so vulgar, and the whole -accompanied with such finery of silks and velvets, that one would be -almost tempted to doubt, whether the artist did not purposely intend to -burlesque his subject.</p> - -<p>Instances of the same kind we frequently see in poetry. Parts of -Hobbes’s translation of Homer are remembered and repeated merely for the -familiarity and meanness of their phraseology, so ill corresponding with -the ideas which ought to have been expressed, and, as I conceive, with -the style of the original.</p> - -<p>We may proceed in the same manner through the comparatively inferior -branches of art. There are in works of that class, the same distinction -of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217"></a>{217}</span> higher and a lower style; and they take their rank and degree in -proportion as the artist departs more, or less, from common nature, and -makes it an object of his attention to strike the imagination of the -spectator by ways belonging specially to art,—unobserved and untaught -out of the school of its practice.</p> - -<p>If our judgments are to be directed by narrow, vulgar, untaught, or -rather ill-taught reason, we must prefer a portrait by Denner or any -other high finisher, to those of Titian or Vandyck; and a landscape of -Vanderheyden to those of Titian or Rubens; for they are certainly more -exact representations of nature.</p> - -<p>If we suppose a view of nature represented with all the truth of the -<i>camera obscura</i>, and the same scene represented by a great artist, how -little and mean will the one appear in comparison of the other, where no -superiority is supposed from the choice of the subject. The scene shall -be the same, the difference only will be in the manner in which it is -presented to the eye. With what additional superiority then will the -same artist appear when he has the power of selecting his materials, as -well as elevating his style? Like Nicolas Poussin, he transports us to -the environs of ancient Rome, with all the objects which a literary -education makes so precious and interesting to man: or, like Sebastian -Bourdon, he leads us to the dark antiquity of the Pyramids of Egypt; or, -like Claude Lorrain, he conducts us to the tranquillity of arcadian -scenes and fairyland.</p> - -<p>Like the history-painter, a painter of landscapes in this style and with -this conduct sends the imagination back into antiquity; and, like the -poet, he makes the elements sympathise with his subject; whether the -clouds roll in volumes, like those of Titian or Salvator Rosa, or, like -those of Claude,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218"></a>{218}</span> are gilded with the setting sun; whether the mountains -have sudden and bold projections, or are gently sloped; whether the -branches of his trees shoot out abruptly in right angles from their -trunks, or follow each other with only a gentle inclination. All these -circumstances contribute to the general character of the work, whether -it be of the elegant, or of the more sublime kind. If we add to this the -powerful materials of lightness and darkness, over which the artist has -complete dominion, to vary and dispose them as he pleases; to diminish, -or increase them, as will best suit his purpose, and correspond to the -general idea of his work; a landscape thus conducted, under the -influence of a poetical mind, will have the same superiority over the -more ordinary and common views, as Milton’s <i>Allegro</i> and <i>Penseroso</i> -have over a cold prosaic narration or description; and such a picture -would make a more forcible impression on the mind than the real scenes, -were they presented before us.</p> - -<p>If we look abroad to other arts, we may observe the same distinction, -the same division into two classes; each of them acting under the -influence of two different principles, in which the one follows nature, -the other varies it, and sometimes departs from it.</p> - -<p>The theatre, which is said <i>to hold the mirror up to nature</i>, -comprehends both those ideas. The lower kind of comedy or farce, like -the inferior style of painting, the more naturally it is represented, -the better; but the higher appears to me to aim no more at imitation, so -far as it belongs to anything like deception, or to expect that the -spectators should think that the events there represented are really -passing before them, than Raffaelle in his cartoons, or Poussin in his -sacraments, expected it to be believed, even for a moment, that what -they exhibited were real figures.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219"></a>{219}</span></p> - -<p>For want of this distinction, the world is filled with false criticism. -Raffaelle is praised for naturalness and deception, which he certainly -has not accomplished, and as certainly never intended; and our late -great actor, Garrick, has been as ignorantly praised by his friend -Fielding; who doubtless imagined he had hit upon an ingenious device, by -introducing in one of his novels (otherwise a work of the highest merit) -an ignorant man, mistaking Garrick’s representation of a scene in Hamlet -for reality. A very little reflection will convince us, that there is -not one circumstance in the whole scene that is of the nature of -deception. The merit and excellence of Shakspeare, and of Garrick, when -they were engaged in such scenes, is of a different and much higher -kind. But what adds to the falsity of this intended compliment is that -the best stage-representation appears even more unnatural to a person of -such a character, who is supposed never to have seen a play before, than -it does to those who have had a habit of allowing for those necessary -deviations from nature which the art requires.</p> - -<p>In theatric representation, great allowances must always be made for the -place in which the exhibition is represented; for the surrounding -company, the lighted candles, the scenes visibly shifted in your sight, -and the language of blank verse, so different from common English; which -merely as English must appear surprising in the mouths of Hamlet, and -all the court and natives of Denmark. These allowances are made; but -their being made puts an end to all manner of deception: and further, we -know that the more low, illiterate, and vulgar any person is, the less -he will be disposed to make these allowances, and of course to be -deceived by any imitation; the things in which the trespass against -nature and common probability is made in favour<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220"></a>{220}</span> of the theatre being -quite within the sphere of such uninformed men.</p> - -<p>Though I have no intention of entering into all the circumstances of -unnaturalness in theatrical representations, I must observe, that even -the expression of violent passion is not always the most excellent in -proportion as it is the most natural; so great terror and such -disagreeable sensations may be communicated to the audience, that the -balance may be destroyed by which pleasure is preserved, and holds its -predominance in the mind: violent distortion of action, harsh screamings -of the voice, however great the occasion, or however natural on such -occasion, are therefore not admissible in the theatric art. Many of -these allowed deviations from nature arise from the necessity which -there is, that everything should be raised and enlarged beyond its -natural state; that the full effect may come home to the spectator, -which otherwise would be lost in the comparatively extensive space of -the theatre. Hence the deliberate and stately step, the studied grace of -action, which seems to enlarge the dimensions of the actor, and alone to -fill the stage. All this unnaturalness, though right and proper in its -place, would appear affected and ridiculous in a private room; <i>quid -enim deformius, quam scenam in vitam transferre?</i></p> - -<p>And here I must observe, and I believe it may be considered as a general -rule, that no art can be engrafted with success on another art. For -though they all profess the same origin, and to proceed from the same -stock, yet each has its own peculiar modes both of imitating nature, and -of deviating from it, each for the accomplishment of its own particular -purpose. These deviations, more especially, will not bear -transplantation to another soil.</p> - -<p>If a painter should endeavour to copy the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221"></a>{221}</span> theatrical pomp and parade of -dress and attitude, instead of that simplicity, which is not a greater -beauty in life than it is in painting, we should condemn such pictures, -as painted in the meanest style.</p> - -<p>So also gardening, as far as gardening is an art, or entitled to that -appellation, is a deviation from nature; for if the true taste consists, -as many hold, in banishing every appearance of art, or any traces of the -footsteps of man, it would then be no longer a garden. Even though we -define it, “Nature to advantage dress’d,” and in some sense is such, and -much more beautiful and commodious for the recreation of man; it is, -however, when so dressed, no longer a subject for the pencil of a -landscape-painter, as all landscape-painters know, who love to have -recourse to nature herself, and to dress her according to the principles -of their own art; which are far different from those of gardening, even -when conducted according to the most approved principles; and such as a -landscape-painter himself would adopt in the disposition of his own -grounds, for his own private satisfaction.</p> - -<p>I have brought together as many instances as appear necessary to make -out the several points which I wished to suggest to your consideration -in this discourse, that your own thoughts may lead you further in the -use that may be made of the analogy of the arts, and of the restraint -which a full understanding of the diversity of many of their principles -ought to impose on the employment of that analogy.</p> - -<p>The great end of all those arts is, to make an impression on the -imagination and the feeling. The imitation of nature frequently does -this. Sometimes it fails, and something else succeeds. I think therefore -the true test of all the arts is not solely whether the production is a -true copy of nature, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222"></a>{222}</span> whether it answers the end of art, which is to -produce a pleasing effect upon the mind.</p> - -<p>It remains only to speak a few words of architecture, which does not -come under the denomination of an imitative art. It applies itself, like -music (and I believe we may add poetry), directly to the imagination, -without the intervention of any kind of imitation.</p> - -<p>There is in architecture, as in painting, an inferior branch of art, in -which the imagination appears to have no concern. It does not, however, -acquire the name of a polite and liberal art, from its usefulness, or -administering to our wants or necessities, but from some higher -principle: we are sure that in the hands of a man of genius it is -capable of inspiring sentiment, and of filling the mind with great and -sublime ideas.</p> - -<p>It may be worth the attention of artists to consider what materials are -in their hands, that may contribute to this end; and whether this art -has it not in its power to address itself to the imagination with -effect, by more ways than are generally employed by architects.</p> - -<p>To pass over the effect produced by that general symmetry and -proportion, by which the eye is delighted, as the ear is with music, -architecture certainly possesses many principles in common with poetry -and painting. Among those which may be reckoned as the first is that of -affecting the imagination by means of association of ideas. Thus, for -instance, as we have naturally a veneration for antiquity, whatever -building brings to our remembrance ancient customs and manners, such as -the castles of the barons of ancient chivalry, is sure to give this -delight. Hence it is that <i>towers and battlements</i><a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> are so often -selected by the painter and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223"></a>{223}</span> the poet, to make a part of the composition -of their ideal landscape; and it is from hence in a great degree, that -in the buildings of Vanbrugh, who was a poet as well as an architect, -there is a greater display of imagination than we shall find perhaps in -any other, and this is the ground of the effect we feel in many of his -works, notwithstanding the faults with which many of them are justly -charged. For this purpose, Vanbrugh appears to have had recourse to some -of the principles of the Gothic architecture; which, though not so -ancient as the Grecian, is more so to our imagination, with which the -artist is more concerned than with absolute truth.</p> - -<p>The barbaric splendour of those Asiatic buildings, which are now -publishing by a member of this Academy,<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> may possibly, in the same -manner, furnish an architect, not with models to copy, but with hints of -composition and general effect, which would not otherwise have occurred.</p> - -<p>It is, I know, a delicate and hazardous thing (and as such I have -already pointed it out), to carry the principles of one art to another, -or even to reconcile in one object the various modes of the same art, -when they proceed on different principles. The sound rules of the -Grecian architecture are not to be lightly sacrificed. A deviation from -them, or even an addition to them, is like a deviation or addition to, -or from, the rules of other arts,—fit only for a great master, who is -thoroughly conversant in the nature of man, as well as all combinations -in his own art.</p> - -<p>It may not be amiss for the architect to take advantage <i>sometimes</i> of -that to which I am sure the painter ought always to have his eyes open, -I mean the use of accidents; to follow when they lead, and to improve -them, rather than always to trust to a regular plan. It often happens -that additions have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224"></a>{224}</span> been made to houses, at various times, for use or -pleasure. As such buildings depart from regularity, they now and then -acquire something of scenery by this accident, which I should think -might not unsuccessfully be adopted by an architect, in an original -plan, if it does not too much interfere with convenience. Variety and -intricacy is a beauty and excellence in every other of the arts which -address the imagination; and why not in architecture?</p> - -<p>The forms and turnings of the streets of London, and other old towns, -are produced by accident, without any original plan or design; but they -are not always the less pleasant to the walker or spectator, on that -account. On the contrary, if the city had been built on the regular plan -of Sir Christopher Wren, the effect might have been, as we know it is in -some new parts of the town, rather unpleasing; the uniformity might have -produced weariness, and a slight degree of disgust.</p> - -<p>I can pretend to no skill in the detail of architecture. I judge now of -the art, merely as a painter. When I speak of Vanbrugh, I mean to speak -of him in the language of our art. To speak then of Vanbrugh in the -language of a painter, he had originality of invention, he understood -light and shadow, and had great skill in composition. To support his -principal object he produced his second and third groups or masses; he -perfectly understood in his art what is the most difficult in ours, the -conduct of the background, by which the design and invention is set off -to the greatest advantage. What the background is in painting, in -architecture is the real ground on which the building is erected; and no -architect took greater care than he that his work should not appear -crude and hard: that is, it did not abruptly start out of the ground -without expectation or preparation.</p> - -<p>This is a tribute which a painter owes to an architect<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225"></a>{225}</span> who composed -like a painter; and was defrauded of the due reward of his merit by the -wits of his time, who did not understand the principles of composition -in poetry better than he; and who knew little or nothing of what he -understood perfectly, the general ruling principles of architecture and -painting. His fate was that of the great Perrault; both were the objects -of the petulant sarcasms of factious men of letters; and both have left -some of the fairest ornaments which to this day decorate their several -countries; the façade of the Louvre, Blenheim, and Castle Howard.</p> - -<p>Upon the whole, it seems to me, that the object and intention of all the -arts is to supply the natural imperfection of things, and often to -gratify the mind by realising and embodying what never existed but in -the imagination.</p> - -<p>It is allowed on all hands, that facts and events, however they may bind -the historian, have no dominion over the poet or the painter. With us, -history is made to bend and conform to this great idea of art. And why? -Because these arts, in their highest province, are not addressed to the -gross senses, but to the desires of the mind, to that spark of divinity -which we have within, impatient of being circumscribed and pent up by -the world which is about us. Just so much as our art has of this, just -so much of dignity, I had almost said of divinity, it exhibits; and -those of our artists who possessed this mark of distinction in the -highest degree acquired from thence the glorious appellation of Divine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226"></a>{226}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_XIV" id="DISCOURSE_XIV"></a>DISCOURSE XIV<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1788.</i></h2> - -<p class="c">Character of Gainsborough;—His Excellences and Defects.</p> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the study of our art, as in the study of all arts, something is the -result of <i>our own</i> observation of nature; something, and that not -little, the effect of the example of those who have studied the same -nature before us, and who have cultivated before us the same art, with -diligence and success. The less we confine ourselves in the choice of -those examples, the more advantage we shall derive from them; and the -nearer we shall bring our performances to a correspondence with nature -and the great general rules of art. When we draw our examples from -remote and revered antiquity,—with some advantage undoubtedly in that -selection,—we subject ourselves to some inconveniences. We may suffer -ourselves to be too much led away by great names, and to be too much -subdued by overbearing authority. Our learning, in that case, is not so -much an exercise of our judgment, as a proof of our docility. We find -ourselves, perhaps, too much overshadowed; and the character of our -pursuits is rather distinguished by the tameness of the follower, than -animated by the spirit of emulation. It is sometimes of service, that -our examples should be near us; and such as raise a reverence, -sufficient to induce us carefully to observe them, yet not so great as -to prevent us from engaging with them in something like a generous -contention.</p> - -<p>We have lately lost Mr. Gainsborough, one of the greatest ornaments of -our Academy. It is not our business here to make panegyrics on the -living,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227"></a>{227}</span> or even on the dead who were of our body. The praise of the -former might bear appearance of adulation; and the latter, of untimely -justice; perhaps of envy to those whom we have still the happiness to -enjoy, by an oblique suggestion of invidious comparisons. In discoursing -therefore on the talents of the late Mr. Gainsborough, my object is, not -so much to praise or to blame him, as to draw from his excellences and -defects matter of instruction to the students in our Academy. If ever -this nation should produce genius sufficient to acquire to us the -honourable distinction of an English School, the name of Gainsborough -will be transmitted to posterity, in the history of the art, among the -very first of that rising name. That our reputation in the arts is now -only rising must be acknowledged; and we must expect our advances to be -attended with old prejudices, as adversaries, and not as supporters; -standing in this respect in a very different situation from the late -artists of the Roman school, to whose reputation ancient prejudices have -certainly contributed: the way was prepared for them, and they may be -said rather to have lived in the reputation of their country, than to -have contributed to it; whilst whatever celebrity is obtained by English -artists can arise only from the operation of a fair and true comparison. -And when they communicate to their country a share of their reputation, -it is a portion of fame not borrowed from others, but solely acquired by -their own labour and talents. As Italy has undoubtedly a prescriptive -right to an administration bordering on prejudice, as a soil peculiarly -adapted, congenial, and, we may add, destined to the production of men -of great genius in our art, we may not unreasonably suspect that a -portion of the great fame of some of their late artists has been owing -to the general readiness and disposition of mankind to acquiesce<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228"></a>{228}</span> in -their original prepossessions in favour of the productions of the Roman -school.</p> - -<p>On this ground, however unsafe, I will venture to prophesy, that two of -the last distinguished painters of that country, I mean Pompeio Battoni -and Raffaelle Mengs, however great their names may at present sound in -our ears, will very soon fall into the rank of Imperiale, Sebastian -Concha, Placido Constanza, Massuccio, and the rest of their immediate -predecessors; whose names, though equally renowned in their lifetime, -are now fallen into what is little short of total oblivion. I do not say -that those painters were not superior to the artist I allude to, and -whose loss we lament, in a certain routine of practice, which, to the -eyes of common observers, has the air of a learned composition, and -bears a sort of superficial resemblance to the manner of the great men -who went before them. I know this perfectly well; but I know likewise, -that a man, looking for real and lasting reputation, must unlearn much -of the commonplace method so observable in the works of the artists whom -I have named. For my own part, I confess, I take more interest in, and -am more captivated with the powerful impression of nature, which -Gainsborough exhibited in his portraits and in his landscapes, and the -interesting simplicity and elegance of his little ordinary -beggar-children, than with any of the works of that school, since the -time of Andrea Sacchi, or perhaps we may say Carlo Maratti, two painters -who may truly be said to be <i>Ultimi Romanorum</i>.</p> - -<p>I am well aware how much I lay myself open to the censure and ridicule -of the academical professors of other nations, in preferring the humble -attempts of Gainsborough to the works of those regular graduates in the -great historical style. But we have the sanction of all mankind in -preferring<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229"></a>{229}</span> genius in a lower rank of art, to feebleness and insipidity -in the highest.</p> - -<p>It would not be to the present purpose, even if I had the means and -materials, which I have not, to enter into the private life of Mr. -Gainsborough. The history of his gradual advancement, and the means by -which he acquired such excellence in his art, would come nearer to our -purposes and wishes, if it were by any means attainable; but the slow -progress of advancement is in general imperceptible to the man himself -who makes it; it is the consequence of an accumulation of various ideas -which his mind has received, he does not perhaps know how or when. -Sometimes indeed it happens, that he may be able to mark the time when -from the sight of a picture, a passage in an author, or a hint in -conversation, he has received, as it were, some new and guiding light, -something like inspiration, by which his mind has been expanded; and is -morally sure that his whole life and conduct has been affected by that -accidental circumstance. Such interesting accounts we may, however, -sometimes obtain from a man who has acquired an uncommon habit of -self-examination, and has attended to the progress of his own -improvement.</p> - -<p>It may not be improper to make mention of some of the customs and habits -of this extraordinary man; points which come more within the reach of an -observer; I, however, mean such only as are connected with his art, and -indeed were, as I apprehend, the causes of his arriving to that high -degree of excellence, which we see and acknowledge in his works. Of -these causes we must state, as the fundamental, the love which he had to -his art; to which, indeed, his whole mind appears to have been devoted, -and to which everything was referred; and this we may fairly conclude -from various circumstances of his life, which were known to his -intimate<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230"></a>{230}</span> friends. Among others he had a habit of continually remarking -to those who happened to be about him, whatever peculiarity of -countenance, whatever accidental combination of figure, or happy effects -of light and shadow, occurred in prospects, in the sky, in walking the -streets, or in company. If, in his walks, he found a character that he -liked, and whose attendance was to be obtained, he ordered him to his -house: and from the fields he brought into his painting-room stumps of -trees, weeds, and animals of various kinds; and designed them, not from -memory, but immediately from the objects. He even framed a kind of model -of landscapes on his table; composed of broken stones, dried herbs, and -pieces of looking-glass, which he magnified and improved into rocks, -trees, and water. How far this latter practice may be useful in giving -hints, the professors of landscape can best determine. Like every other -technical practice, it seems to me wholly to depend on the general -talent of him who uses it. Such methods may be nothing better than -contemptible and mischievous trifling; or they may be aids. I think upon -the whole, unless we constantly refer to real nature, that practice may -be more likely to do harm than good. I mention it only, as it shows the -solicitude and extreme activity which he had about everything that -related to his art; that he wished to have his objects embodied, as it -were, and distinctly before him; that he neglected nothing which could -keep his faculties in exercise, and derived hints from every sort of -combination.</p> - -<p>We must not forget whilst we are on this subject, to make some remarks -on his custom of painting by night, which confirms what I have already -mentioned,—his great affection to his art; since he could not amuse -himself in the evening by any other means so agreeable to himself. I am -indeed much inclined<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231"></a>{231}</span> to believe that it is a practice very advantageous -and improving to an artist; for by this means he will acquire a new and -a higher perception of what is great and beautiful in nature. By -candle-light, not only objects appear more beautiful, but from their -being in a greater breadth of light and shadow, as well as having a -greater breadth and uniformity of colour, nature appears in a higher -style; and even the flesh seems to take a higher and richer tone of -colour. Judgment is to direct us in the use to be made of this method of -study; but the method itself is, I am very sure, advantageous. I have -often imagined that the two great colourists, Titian and Correggio, -though I do not know that they painted by night, formed their high ideas -of colouring from the effects of objects by this artificial light: but I -am more assured, that whoever attentively studies the first and best -manner of Guercino, will be convinced that he either painted by this -light, or formed his manner on this conception.</p> - -<p>Another practice Gainsborough had, which is worth mentioning, as it is -certainly worthy of imitation; I mean his manner of forming all the -parts of his picture together; the whole going on at the same time, in -the same manner as nature creates her works. Though this method is not -uncommon to those who have been regularly educated, yet probably it was -suggested to him by his own natural sagacity. That this custom is not -universal appears from the practice of a painter whom I have just -mentioned, Pompeio Battoni, who finished his historical pictures part -after part; and in his portraits completely finished one feature before -he proceeded to another. The consequence was, as might be expected, the -countenance was never well expressed; and, as the painters say, the -whole was not well put together.</p> - -<p>The first thing required to excel in our art, or, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232"></a>{232}</span> believe, in any -art, is not only a love for it, but even an enthusiastic ambition to -excel in it. This never fails of success proportioned to the natural -abilities with which the artist has been endowed by Providence. Of -Gainsborough, we certainly know, that his passion was not the -acquirement of riches, but excellence in his art; and to enjoy that -honourable fame which is sure to attend it.—That <i>he felt this ruling -passion strong in death</i> I am myself a witness. A few days before he -died, he wrote me a letter, to express his acknowledgments for the good -opinion I entertained of his abilities, and the manner in which (he had -been informed) I always spoke of him; and desired he might see me, once -more, before he died. I am aware how flattering it is to myself to be -thus connected with the dying testimony which this excellent painter -bore to his art. But I cannot prevail on myself to suppress, that I was -not connected with him by any habits of familiarity: if any little -jealousies had subsisted between us, they were forgotten in those -moments of sincerity; and he turned towards me as one who was engrossed -by the same pursuits, and who deserved his good opinion, by being -sensible of his excellence. Without entering into a detail of what -passed at this last interview, the impression of it upon my mind was, -that his regret at losing life was principally the regret of leaving his -art; and more especially as he now began, he said, to see what his -deficiencies were; which, he said, he flattered himself in his last -works were in some measure supplied.</p> - -<p>When such a man as Gainsborough arrives to great fame, without the -assistance of an academical education, without travelling to Italy, or -any of those preparatory studies which have been so often recommended, -he is produced as an instance, how little such studies are necessary, -since so great excellence may be acquired without them. This is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233"></a>{233}</span> an -inference not warranted by the success of any individual; and I trust it -will not be thought that I wish to make this use of it.</p> - -<p>It must be remembered that the style and department of art which -Gainsborough chose, and in which he so much excelled, did not require -that he should go out of his own country for the objects of his study; -they were everywhere about him; he found them in the streets, and in the -fields; and from the models thus accidentally found, he selected with -great judgment such as suited his purpose. As his studies were directed -to the living world principally, he did not pay a general attention to -the works of the various masters, though they are, in my opinion, always -of great use, even when the character of our subject requires us to -depart from some of their principles. It cannot be denied, that -excellence in the department of the art which he professed may exist -without them; that in such subjects, and in the manner that belongs to -them, the want of them is supplied, and more than supplied, by natural -sagacity, and a minute observation of particular nature. If Gainsborough -did not look at nature with a poet’s eye, it must be acknowledged that -he saw her with the eye of a painter; and gave a faithful, if not a -poetical, representation of what he had before him.</p> - -<p>Though he did not much attend to the works of the great historical -painters of former ages, yet he was well aware that the language of the -art,—the art of imitation,—must be learned somewhere; and as he knew -that he could not learn it in an equal degree from his contemporaries, -he very judiciously applied himself to the Flemish school, who are -undoubtedly the greatest masters of one necessary branch of art; and he -did not need to go out of his own country for examples of that school: -from that he learned the harmony of colouring, the management<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234"></a>{234}</span> and -disposition of light and shadow, and every means which the masters of it -practised, to ornament and give splendour to their works. And to satisfy -himself as well as others, how well he knew the mechanism and artifice -which they employed to bring out that tone of colour which we so much -admired in their works, he occasionally made copies from Rubens, -Teniers, and Vandyck, which it would be no disgrace to the most accurate -connoisseur to mistake, at the first sight, for the works of those -masters. What he thus learned, he applied to the originals of nature, -which he saw with his own eyes; and imitated, not in the manner of those -masters, but in his own.</p> - -<p>Whether he most excelled in portraits, landscapes, or fancy-pictures, it -is difficult to determine: whether his portraits were most admirable for -exact truth of resemblance, or his landscapes for a portrait-like -representation of nature, such as we see in the works of Rubens, -Ruysdaal, and others of those schools. In his fancy-pictures, whence had -fixed on his object of imitation, whether it was the mean and vulgar -form of a wood-cutter, or a child of an interesting character, as he did -not attempt to raise the one, so neither did he lose any of the natural -grace and elegance of the other; such a grace, and such an elegance, as -are more frequently found in cottages than in courts. This excellence -was his own, the result of his particular observation and taste; for -this he was certainly not indebted to the Flemish school, nor indeed to -any school; for his grace was not academical or antique, but selected by -himself from the great school of nature; and there are yet a thousand -modes of grace, which are neither theirs nor his, but lie open in the -multiplied scenes and figures of life, to be brought out by skilful and -faithful observers.</p> - -<p>Upon the whole, we may justly say, that whatever<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235"></a>{235}</span> he attempted he -carried to a high degree of excellence. It is to the credit of his good -sense and judgment that he never did attempt that style of historical -painting for which his previous studies had made no preparation.</p> - -<p>And here it naturally occurs to oppose the sensible conduct of -Gainsborough in this respect to that of our late excellent Hogarth, who, -with all his extraordinary talents, was not blessed with this knowledge -of his own deficiency or of the bounds which were set to the extent of -his own powers. After this admirable artist had spent the greatest part -of his life in an active, busy, and, we may add, successful attention to -the ridicule of life; after he had invented a new species of dramatic -painting, in which probably he will never be equalled, and had stored -his mind with infinite materials to explain and illustrate the domestic -and familiar scenes of common life, which were generally, and ought to -have been always, the subject of his pencil; he very imprudently, or -rather presumptuously, attempted the great historical style, for which -his previous habits had by no means prepared him: he was indeed so -entirely unacquainted with the principles of this style, that he was not -even aware that any artificial preparation was at all necessary. It is -to be regretted that any part of the life of such a genius should be -fruitlessly employed. Let his failure teach us not to indulge ourselves -in the vain imagination, that by a momentary resolution we can give -either dexterity to the hand, or a new habit to the mind.</p> - -<p>I have, however, little doubt but that the same sagacity which enabled -those two extraordinary men to discover their true object, and the -peculiar excellence of that branch of art which they cultivated, would -have been equally effectual in discovering the principles of the higher -style; if they had investigated<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236"></a>{236}</span> those principles with the same eager -industry, which they exerted in their own department. As Gainsborough -never attempted the heroic style, so neither did he destroy the -character and uniformity of his own style, by the idle affectation of -introducing mythological learning in any of his pictures. Of this boyish -folly we see instances enough, even in the works of great painters. When -the Dutch school attempt this poetry of our art in their landscapes, -their performances are beneath criticism; they become only an object of -laughter. This practice is hardly excusable, even in Claude Lorrain, who -had shown more discretion, if he had never meddled with such subjects.</p> - -<p>Our late ingenious Academician, Wilson, has I fear, been guilty, like -many of his predecessors, of introducing gods and goddesses, ideal -beings, into scenes which were by no means prepared to receive such -personages. His landscapes were in reality too near common nature to -admit supernatural objects. In consequence of this mistake, in a very -admirable picture of a storm which I have seen of his hand, many figures -are introduced in the foreground, some in apparent distress, and some -struck dead, as a spectator would naturally suppose, by the lightning; -had not the painter injudiciously (as I think) rather chosen that their -death should be imputed to a little Apollo, who appears in the sky, with -his bent bow, and that those figures should be considered as the -children of Niobe.</p> - -<p>To manage a subject of this kind, a peculiar style of art is required; -and it can only be done without impropriety, or even without ridicule, -when we adapt the character of the landscape, and that too, in all its -parts, to the historical or poetical representation. This is a very -difficult adventure, and it requires a mind thrown back two thousand -years, and as it were naturalised in antiquity, like that of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237"></a>{237}</span> Nicolas -Poussin, to achieve it. In the picture alluded to, the first idea that -presents itself is that of wonder, at seeing a figure in so uncommon a -situation as that in which the Apollo is placed; for the clouds on which -he kneels have not the appearance of being able to support him; they -have neither the substance nor the form fit for the receptacle of a -human figure; and they do not possess in any respect that romantic -character which is appropriated to such an object, and which alone can -harmonise with poetical stories.</p> - -<p>It appears to me that such conduct is no less absurd, than if a plain -man, giving a relation of a real distress, occasioned by an inundation -accompanied with thunder and lightning, should, instead of simply -relating the event, take it into his head, in order to give a grace to -his narration, to talk of Jupiter Pluvius, or Jupiter and his -thunder-bolts, or any other figurative idea; an intermixture which, -though in poetry, with its proper preparations and accompaniments, it -might be managed with effect, yet in the instance before us would -counteract the purpose of the narrator, and instead of being -interesting, would be only ridiculous.</p> - -<p>The Dutch and Flemish style of landscape, not even excepting those of -Rubens, is unfit for poetical subjects; but to explain in what this -ineptitude consists, or to point out all the circumstances that give -nobleness, grandeur, and the poetic character to style, in landscape, -would require a long discourse of itself; and the end would be then -perhaps but imperfectly attained. The painter who is ambitious of this -perilous excellence must catch his inspiration from those who have -cultivated with success the poetry, as it may be called, of the art; and -they are few indeed.</p> - -<p>I cannot quit this subject without mentioning two examples which occur -to me at present, in which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238"></a>{238}</span> poetical style of landscape may be seen -happily executed; the one is Jacob’s Dream, by Salvator Rosa, and the -other the Return of the Ark from Captivity, by Sebastian Bourdon.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> -With whatever dignity those histories are presented to us in the -language of Scripture, this style of painting possesses the same power -of inspiring sentiments of grandeur and sublimity, and is able to -communicate them to subjects which appear by no means adapted to receive -them. A ladder against the sky has no very promising appearance of -possessing a capacity to excite any heroic ideas; and the Ark, in the -hands of a second-rate master, would have little more effect than a -common waggon on the highway; yet those subjects are so poetically -treated throughout, the parts have such a correspondence with each -other, and the whole and every part of the scene is so visionary, that -it is impossible to look at them without feeling, in some measure, the -enthusiasm which seems to have inspired the painters.</p> - -<p>By continual contemplation of such works, a sense of the higher -excellences of art will by degrees dawn on the imagination; at every -review that sense will become more and more assured, until we come to -enjoy a sober certainty of the real existence (if I may so express -myself) of those almost ideal beauties; and the artist will then find no -difficulty in fixing in his mind the principles by which the impression -is produced, which he will feel and practise, though they are perhaps -too delicate and refined, and too peculiar to the imitative art, to be -conveyed to the mind by any other means.</p> - -<p>To return to Gainsborough: the peculiarity of his manner, or style, or -we may call it the language in which he expressed his ideas, has been -considered by many as his greatest defect. But without altogether<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239"></a>{239}</span> -wishing to enter into the discussion—whether this peculiarity was a -defect or not, intermixed, as it was, with great beauties, of some of -which it was probably the cause—it becomes a proper subject of -criticism and inquiry to a painter.</p> - -<p>A novelty and peculiarity of manner, as it is often a cause of our -approbation, so likewise it is often a ground of censure; as being -contrary to the practice of other painters, in whose manner we have been -initiated, and in whose favour we have perhaps been prepossessed from -our infancy; for, fond as we are of novelty, we are upon the whole -creatures of habit. However, it is certain, that all those odd scratches -and marks, which on a close examination are so observable in -Gainsborough’s pictures, and which even to experienced painters appear -rather the effect of accident than design; this chaos, this uncouth and -shapeless appearance, by a kind of magic, at a certain distance assumes -form, and all the parts seem to drop into their proper places; so that -we can hardly refuse acknowledging the full effect of diligence, under -the appearance of chance and hasty negligence. That Gainsborough himself -considered this peculiarity in his manner, and the power it possesses of -exciting surprise, as a beauty in his works, I think may be inferred -from the eager desire which we know he always expressed, that his -pictures, at the exhibition, should be seen near, as well as at a -distance.</p> - -<p>The slightness which we see in his best works cannot always be imputed -to negligence. However they may appear to superficial observers, -painters know very well that a steady attention to the general effect -takes up more time, and is much more laborious to the mind, than any -mode of high finishing or smoothness, without such attention. His -<i>handling, the manner of leaving the colours</i>, or, in other words, the -methods he used for producing the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240"></a>{240}</span> effect, had very much the appearance -of the work of an artist who had never learned from others the usual and -regular practice belonging to the art; but still, like a man of strong -intuitive perception of what was required, he found out a way of his own -to accomplish his purpose.</p> - -<p>It is no disgrace to the genius of Gainsborough, to compare him to such -men as we sometimes meet with, whose natural eloquence appears even in -speaking a language which they can scarce be said to understand; and -who, without knowing the appropriate expression of almost any one idea, -contrive to communicate the lively and forcible impressions of an -energetic mind.</p> - -<p>I think some apology may reasonably be made for his manner, without -violating truth, or running any risk of poisoning the minds of the -younger students, by propagating false criticism, for the sake of -raising the character of a favourite artist. It must be allowed, that -this hatching manner of Gainsborough did very much contribute to the -lightness of effect which is so eminent a beauty in his pictures; as, on -the contrary, much smoothness, and uniting the colours, is apt to -produce heaviness. Every artist must have remarked, how often that -lightness of hand which was in his dead-colour, or first painting, -escaped in the finishing, when he had determined the parts with more -precision: and another loss he often experiences, which is of greater -consequence; whilst he is employed in the detail, the effect of the -whole together is either forgotten or neglected. The likeness of a -portrait, as I have formerly observed, consists more in preserving the -general effect of the countenance, than in the most minute finishing of -the features, or any of the particular parts. Now Gainsborough’s -portraits were often little more, in regard to finishing, or determining -the form of the features, than what generally<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241"></a>{241}</span> attends a dead-colour; -but as he was always attentive to the general effect, or whole together, -I have often imagined that this unfinished manner contributed even to -that striking resemblance for which his portraits are so remarkable. -Though this opinion may be considered as fanciful, yet I think a -plausible reason may be given, why such a mode of painting should have -such an effect. It is pre-supposed that in this undetermined manner -there is the general effect; enough to remind the spectator of the -original; the imagination supplies the rest, and perhaps more -satisfactorily to himself, if not more exactly, than the artist, with -all his care, could possibly have done. At the same time it must be -acknowledged there is one evil attending this mode: that if the portrait -were seen, previous to any knowledge of the original, different persons -would form different ideas, and all would be disappointed at not finding -the original correspond with their own conceptions, under the great -latitude which indistinctness gives to the imagination to assume almost -what character or form it pleases.</p> - -<p>Every artist has some favourite part, on which he fixes his attention, -and which he pursues with such eagerness, that it absorbs every other -consideration; and he often falls into the opposite error of that which -he would avoid, which is always ready to receive him. Now Gainsborough, -having truly a painter’s eye for colouring, cultivated those effects of -the art which proceed from colours; and sometimes appears to be -indifferent to or to neglect other excellences. Whatever defects are -acknowledged, let him still experience from us the same candour that we -so freely give upon similar occasions to the ancient masters; let us not -encourage that fastidious disposition, which is discontented with -everything short of perfection, and unreasonably require, as we -sometimes do, a union of excellences, not perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242"></a>{242}</span> quite compatible with -each other.—We may, on this ground, say even of the divine Raffaelle, -that he might have finished his picture as highly and as correctly as -was his custom, without heaviness of manner; and that Poussin might have -preserved all his precision without hardness or dryness.</p> - -<p>To show the difficulty of uniting solidity with lightness of manner, we -may produce a picture of Rubens in the Church of St. Judule, at -Brussels, as an example; the subject is <i>Christ’s charge to Peter</i>, -which, as it is the highest, and smoothest, finished picture I remember -to have seen of that master, so it is by far the heaviest; and if I had -found it in any other place, I should have suspected it to be a copy; -for painters know very well that it is principally by this air of -facility, or the want of it, that originals are distinguished from -copies.—A lightness of effect, produced by colour, and that produced by -facility of handling, are generally united; a copy may preserve -something of the one, it is true, but hardly ever of the other; a -connoisseur therefore finds it often necessary to look carefully into -the picture before he determines on its originality. Gainsborough -possessed this quality of lightness of manner and effect, I think, to an -unexampled degree of excellence; but it must be acknowledged, at the -same time, that the sacrifice which he made to this ornament of our art -was too great; it was, in reality, preferring the lesser excellences to -the greater.</p> - -<p>To conclude. However we may apologise for the deficiencies of -Gainsborough (I mean particularly his want of precision and finishing), -who so ingeniously contrived to cover his defects by his beauties; and -who cultivated that department of art, where such defects are more -easily excused; you are to remember, that no apology can be made for -this deficiency, in that style which this Academy teaches, and which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243"></a>{243}</span> -ought to be the object of your pursuit. It will be necessary for you, in -the first place, never to lose sight of the great rules and principles -of the art, as they are collected from the full body of the best general -practice, and the most constant and uniform experience; this must be the -groundwork of all your studies; afterwards you may profit, as in this -case I wish you to profit, by the peculiar experience and personal -talents of artists living and dead; you may derive lights, and catch -hints, from their practice; but the moment you turn them into models, -you fall infinitely below them; you may be corrupted by excellences, not -so much belonging to the art, as personal and appropriated to the -artist; and become bad copies of good painters, instead of excellent -imitators of the great universal truth of things.</p> - -<h2><a name="DISCOURSE_XV" id="DISCOURSE_XV"></a>DISCOURSE XV<br /><br /> -<i>Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, on the Distribution of the Prizes, December 10, 1790.</i></h2> - -<div class="blockquott"><p class="hang">The President takes Leave of the Academy.—A Review of the -Discourses.—The Study of the Works of Michael Angelo recommended.</p></div> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> intimate connection which I have had with the Royal Academy ever -since its establishment, the social duties in which we have all mutually -engaged for so many years, make any profession of attachment to this -Institution, on my part, altogether superfluous; the influence of habit -alone in such a connection would naturally have produced it.</p> - -<p>Among men united in the same body, and engaged in the same pursuit, -along with permanent friendship occasional differences will arise. In -these<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244"></a>{244}</span> disputes men are naturally too favourable to themselves, and -think perhaps too hardly of their antagonists. But composed and -constituted as we are, those little contentions will be lost to others, -and they ought certainly to be lost amongst ourselves, in mutual esteem -for talents and acquirements: every controversy ought to be, and I am -persuaded will be, sunk in our zeal for the perfection of our common -art.</p> - -<p>In parting with the Academy, I shall remember with pride, affection, and -gratitude, the support with which I have almost uniformly been honoured -from the commencement of our intercourse. I shall leave you, gentlemen, -with unaffected cordial wishes for your future concord, and with a -well-founded hope, that in that concord the auspicious and not obscure -origin of our Academy may be forgotten in the splendour of your -succeeding prospects.</p> - -<p>My age, and my infirmities still more than my age, make it probable that -this will be the last time I shall have the honour of addressing you -from this place. Excluded as I am, <i>spatiis iniquis</i>, from indulging my -imagination with a distant and forward perspective of life, I may be -excused if I turn my eyes back on the way which I have passed.</p> - -<p>We may assume to ourselves, I should hope, the credit of having -endeavoured, at least, to fill with propriety that middle station which -we hold in the general connection of things. Our predecessors have -laboured for our advantage, we labour for our successors; and though we -have done no more in this mutual intercourse and reciprocation of -benefits, than has been effected by other societies formed in this -nation for the advancement of useful and ornamental knowledge, yet there -is one circumstance which appears to give us a higher claim than the -credit of merely doing our duty. What I at present allude to, is the -honour of having been,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_245" id="page_245"></a>{245}</span> some of us the first contrivers, and all of us -the promoters and supporters, of the annual exhibition. This scheme -could only have originated from artists already in possession of the -favour of the public, as it would not have been so much in the power of -others to have excited curiosity. It must be remembered, that for the -sake of bringing forward into notice concealed merit, they incurred the -risk of producing rivals to themselves; they voluntarily entered the -lists, and ran the race a second time for the prize which they had -already won.</p> - -<p>When we take a review of the several departments of the Institution, I -think we may safely congratulate ourselves on our good fortune in having -hitherto seen the chairs of our professors filled with men of -distinguished abilities, and who have so well acquitted themselves of -their duty in their several departments. I look upon it to be of -importance, that none of them should be ever left unfilled: a neglect to -provide for qualified persons is to produce a neglect of qualifications.</p> - -<p>In this honourable rank of professors, I have not presumed to class -myself; though in the discourses which I have had the honour of -delivering from this place, while in one respect I may be considered as -a volunteer, in another view it seems as if I was involuntarily pressed -into this service. If prizes were to be given, it appeared not only -proper, but almost indispensably necessary, that something should be -said by the President on the delivery of those prizes: and the President -for his own credit would wish to say something more than mere words of -compliment, which, by being frequently repeated, would soon become flat -and uninteresting, and by being uttered to many, would at last become a -distinction to none: I thought, therefore, if I were to preface this -compliment with some instructive observations on the art, when we -crowned merit in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_246" id="page_246"></a>{246}</span> artists whom we rewarded, I might do something to -animate and guide them in their future attempts.</p> - -<p>I am truly sensible how unequal I have been to the expression of my own -ideas. To develop the latent excellences, and draw out the interior -principles, of our art, requires more skill and practice in writing, -than is likely to be possessed by a man perpetually occupied in the use -of the pencil and the palette. It is for that reason, perhaps, that the -sister art has had the advantage of better criticism. Poets are -naturally writers of prose. They may be said to be practising only an -inferior department of their own art, when they are explaining and -expatiating upon its most refined principles. But still such -difficulties ought not to deter artists who are not prevented by other -engagements from putting their thoughts in order as well as they can, -and from giving to the public the result of their experience. The -knowledge which an artist has of his subject will more than compensate -for any want of elegance in the manner of treating it, or even of -perspicuity, which is still more essential; and I am convinced that one -short essay written by a painter will contribute more to advance the -theory of our art, than a thousand volumes such as we sometimes see; the -purpose of which appears to be rather to display the refinement of the -author’s own conceptions of impossible practice, than to convey useful -knowledge or instruction of any kind whatever. An artist knows what is, -and what is not, within the province of his art to perform; and is not -likely to be for ever teasing the poor student with the beauties of -mixed passions, or to perplex him with an imaginary union of excellences -incompatible with each other.</p> - -<p>To this work, however, I could not be said to come totally unprovided -with materials. I had seen much, and I had thought much upon what I had -seen; I had something of a habit of investigation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_247" id="page_247"></a>{247}</span> and a disposition to -reduce all that I observed and felt in my own mind to method and system; -but never having seen what I myself knew, distinctly placed before me on -paper, I knew nothing correctly. To put those ideas into something like -order was, to my inexperience, no easy task. The composition, the -<i>ponere totum</i> even of a single discourse, as well as of a single -statue, was the most difficult part, as perhaps it is of every other -art, and most requires the hand of a master.</p> - -<p>For the manner, whatever deficiency there was, I might reasonably expect -indulgence; but I thought it indispensably necessary well to consider -the opinions which were to be given out from this place, and under the -sanction of a Royal Academy. I therefore examined not only my own -opinions, but likewise the opinions of others. I found in the course of -this research many precepts and rules established in our art, which did -not seem to me altogether reconcilable with each other, yet each seemed -in itself to have the same claim of being supported by truth and nature; -and this claim, irreconcilable as they may be thought, they do in -reality alike possess.</p> - -<p>To clear away those difficulties, and reconcile those contrary opinions, -it became necessary to distinguish the greater truth, as it may be -called, from the lesser truth; the larger and more liberal idea of -nature from the more narrow and confined; that which addresses itself to -the imagination, from that which is solely addressed to the eye. In -consequence of this discrimination, the different branches of our art, -to which those different truths were referred, were perceived to make so -wide a separation, and put on so new an appearance, that they seemed -scarcely to have proceeded from the same general stock. The different -rules and regulations, which presided over each department of art, -followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_248" id="page_248"></a>{248}</span> of course: every mode of excellence, from the grand style of -the Roman and Florentine schools down to the lowest rank of still-life, -had its due weight and value,—fitted some class or other; and nothing -was thrown away. By this disposition of our art into classes, that -perplexity and confusion, which I apprehend every artist has at some -time experienced from the variety of styles, and the variety of -excellence with which he is surrounded, is, I should hope, in some -measure removed, and the student better enabled to judge for himself, -what peculiarly belongs to his own particular pursuit.</p> - -<p>In reviewing my discourses, it is no small satisfaction to be assured -that I have, in no part of them, lent my assistance to foster -<i>newly-hatched unfledged</i> opinions, or endeavoured to support paradoxes, -however tempting may have been their novelty; or however ingenious I -might, for the minute, fancy them to be; nor shall I, I hope, anywhere -be found to have imposed on the minds of young students declamation for -argument, a smooth period for a sound precept. I have pursued a plain -and <i>honest method</i>; I have taken up the art simply as I found it -exemplified in the practice of the most approved painters. That -approbation which the world has uniformly given, I have endeavoured to -justify by such proofs as questions of this kind will admit; by the -analogy which painting holds with the sister arts, and consequently by -the common congeniality which they all bear to our nature. And though in -what has been done no new discovery is pretended, I may still flatter -myself, that from the discoveries which others have made by their own -intuitive good sense and native rectitude of judgment, I have succeeded -in establishing the rules and principles of our art on a more firm and -lasting foundation than that on which they had formerly been placed.</p> - -<p>Without wishing to divert the student from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_249" id="page_249"></a>{249}</span> practice of his art to -speculative theory, to make him a mere connoisseur instead of a painter, -I cannot but remark, that he will certainly find an account in -considering once for all, on what ground the fabric of our art is built. -Uncertain, confused, or erroneous opinions are not only detrimental to -an artist in their immediate operation, but may possibly have very -serious consequences; affect his conduct, and give a peculiar character -(as it may be called) to his taste, and to his pursuits, through his -whole life.</p> - -<p>I was acquainted at Rome, in the early part of my life, with a student -of the French Academy, who appeared to me to possess all the qualities -requisite to make a great artist, if he had suffered his taste and -feelings, and I may add even his prejudices, to have fair play. He saw -and felt the excellences of the great works of art with which we were -surrounded, but lamented that there was not to be found that nature -which is so admirable in the inferior schools; and he supposed with -Felibien, Du Piles, and other Theorists, that such a union of different -excellences would be the perfection of art. He was not aware, that the -narrow idea of nature, of which he lamented the absence in the works of -those great artists, would have destroyed the grandeur of the general -ideas which he admired, and which was indeed the cause of his -admiration. My opinions being then confused and unsettled, I was in -danger of being borne down by this kind of plausible reasoning, though I -remember I then had a dawning of suspicion that it was not sound -doctrine; and at the same time I was unwilling obstinately to refuse -assent to what I was unable to confute.</p> - -<p>That the young artist may not be seduced from the right path, by -following what, at first view, he may think the light of reason and -which is indeed reason<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_250" id="page_250"></a>{250}</span> in part, but not in the whole, has been much the -object of these discourses.</p> - -<p>I have taken every opportunity of recommending a rational method of -study, as of the last importance. The great, I may say the sole, use of -an academy is, to put, and for some time to keep, the students in that -course, that too much indulgence may not be given to peculiarity, and -that a young man may not be taught to believe that what is generally -good for others is not good for him.</p> - -<p>I have strongly inculcated in my former discourses, as I do in this my -last, the wisdom and necessity of previously obtaining the appropriated -instruments of the art, in a first correct design and a plain manly -colouring, before anything more is attempted. But by this I would not -wish to cramp and fetter the mind, or discourage those who follow (as -most of us may at one time have followed) the suggestion of a strong -inclination: something must be conceded to great and irresistible -impulses: perhaps every student must not be strictly bound to general -methods, if they strongly thwart the peculiar turn of his own mind. I -must confess that it is not absolutely of much consequence, whether he -proceeds in the general method of seeking first to acquire mechanical -accuracy, before he attempts poetical flights, provided he diligently -studies to attain the full perfection of the style he pursues; whether, -like Parmeggiano, he endeavours at grace and grandeur of manner before -he has learned correctness of drawing, if, like him, he feels his own -wants, and will labour, as that eminent artist did, to supply those -wants; whether he starts from the east or from the west, if he relaxes -in no exertion to arrive ultimately at the same goal. The first public -work of Parmeggiano is the St. Eustachius, in the Church of St. -Petronius in Bologna, and was done when he was a boy; and one of the -last of his works<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_251" id="page_251"></a>{251}</span> is the Moses breaking the Tables, in Parma. In the -former there is certainly something of grandeur in the outline, or in -the conception of the figure, which discovers the dawnings of future -greatness; of a young mind impregnated with the sublimity of Michael -Angelo, whose style he here attempts to imitate, though he could not -then draw the human figure with any common degree of correctness. But -this same Parmeggiano, when in his more mature age he painted the Moses, -had so completely supplied his first defects, that we are here at a loss -which to admire most, the correctness of drawing, or the grandeur of the -conception. As a confirmation of its great excellence, and of the -impression which it leaves on the minds of elegant spectators, I may -observe, that our great lyric poet, when he conceived his sublime idea -of the indignant Welsh bard, acknowledged, that though many years had -intervened, he had warmed his imagination with the remembrance of this -noble figure of Parmeggiano.</p> - -<p>When we consider that Michael Angelo was the great archetype to whom -Parmeggiano was indebted for that grandeur which we find in his works, -and from whom all his contemporaries and successors have derived -whatever they have possessed of the dignified and the majestic; that he -was the bright luminary, from whom painting has borrowed a new lustre; -that under his hands it assumed a new appearance, and is become another -and superior art; I may be excused if I take this opportunity, as I have -hitherto taken every occasion, to turn your attention to this exalted -founder and father of modern art, of which he was not only the inventor, -but which, by the divine energy of his own mind, he carried at once to -its highest point of possible perfection.</p> - -<p>The sudden maturity to which Michael Angelo brought our art, and the -comparative feebleness of his followers and imitators, might perhaps be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_252" id="page_252"></a>{252}</span> -reasonably, at least plausibly explained, if we had time for such an -examination. At present I shall only observe, that the subordinate parts -of our art, and perhaps of other arts, expand themselves by a slow and -progressive growth; but those which depend on a native vigour of -imagination generally burst forth at once in fulness of beauty. Of this -Homer probably, and Shakespeare most assuredly, are signal examples. -Michael Angelo possessed the poetical part of our art in a most eminent -degree: and the same daring spirit, which urged him first to explore the -unknown regions of the imagination, delighted with the novelty, and -animated by the success of his discoveries, could not have failed to -stimulate and impel him forward in his career beyond those limits which -his followers, destitute of the same incentives, had not strength to -pass.</p> - -<p>To distinguish between correctness of drawing, and that part which -respects the imagination, we may say the one approaches to the -mechanical (which in its way too may make just pretensions to genius) -and the other to the poetical. To encourage a solid and vigorous course -of study, it may not be amiss to suggest, that perhaps a confidence in -the mechanic produces a boldness in the poetic. He that is sure of the -goodness of his ship and tackle, puts out fearlessly from the shore; and -he who knows that his hand can execute whatever his fancy can suggest, -sports with more freedom in embodying the visionary forms of his own -creation. I will not say Michael Angelo was eminently poetical, only -because he was greatly mechanical; but I am sure that mechanic -excellence invigorated and emboldened his mind to carry painting into -the regions of poetry, and to emulate that art in its most adventurous -flights. Michael Angelo equally possessed both qualifications. Yet of -mechanic excellence there were certainly great examples to be found<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_253" id="page_253"></a>{253}</span> in -ancient sculpture, and particularly in the fragment known by the name of -the Torso of Michael Angelo; but of that grandeur of character, air, and -attitude, which he threw into all his figures, and which so well -corresponds with the grandeur of his outline, there was no example; it -could therefore proceed only from the most poetical and sublime -imagination.</p> - -<p>It is impossible not to express some surprise, that the race of painters -who preceded Michael Angelo, men of acknowledged great abilities, should -never have thought of transferring a little of that grandeur of outline -which they could not but see and admire in ancient sculpture, into their -own works; but they appear to have considered sculpture as the later -schools of artists look at the inventions of Michael Angelo,—as -something to be admired, but with which they have nothing to do: <i>quod -super nos, nihil ad nos</i>.—The artists of that age, even Raffaelle -himself, seemed to be going on very contentedly in the dry manner of -Pietro Perugino; and if Michael Angelo had never appeared, the art might -still have continued in the same style.</p> - -<p>Besides Rome and Florence, where the grandeur of this style was first -displayed, it was on this foundation that the Caracci built the truly -great academical Bolognian school, of which the first stone was laid by -Pellegrino Tibaldi. He first introduced this style amongst them; and -many instances might be given in which he appears to have possessed, as -by inheritance, the true, genuine, noble, and elevated mind of Michael -Angelo. Though we cannot venture to speak of him with the same fondness -as his countrymen, and call him, as the Caracci did, <i>Nostro Michael -Angelo riformato</i>, yet he has a right to be considered amongst the first -and greatest of his followers: there are certainly many drawings and -inventions of his, of which Michael Angelo himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_254" id="page_254"></a>{254}</span> might not disdain to -be supposed the author, or that they should be, as in fact they often -are, mistaken for his. I will mention one particular instance, because -it is found in a book which is in every young artist’s hands—Bishop’s -<i>Ancient Statues</i>. He there has introduced a print, representing -Polyphemus, from a drawing of Tibaldi, and has inscribed it with the -name of Michael Angelo, to whom he has also in the same book attributed -a Sibyl of Raffaelle. Both these figures, it is true, are professedly in -Michael Angelo’s style and spirit, and even worthy of his hand. But we -know that the former is painted in the <i>Institute a Bologna</i> by Tibaldi, -and the other in the <i>Pace</i> by Raffaelle.</p> - -<p>The Caracci, it is acknowledged, adopted the mechanical part with -sufficient success. But the divine part which addresses itself to the -imagination, as possessed by Michael Angelo or Tibaldi, was beyond their -grasp: they formed, however, a most respectable school, a style more on -the level, and calculated to please a greater number; and if excellence -of this kind is to be valued according to the number rather than the -weight and quality of admirers, it would assume even a higher rank in -art. The same, in some sort, may be said of Tintoret, Paolo Veronese, -and others of the Venetian painters. They certainly much advanced the -dignity of their style by adding to their fascinating powers of -colouring something of the strength of Michael Angelo; at the same time -it may still be a doubt, how far their ornamental elegance would be an -advantageous addition to his grandeur. But if there is any manner of -painting which may be said to unite kindly with his style, it is that of -Titian. His handling, the manner in which his colours are left on the -canvas, appears to proceed (as far as that goes) from a congenial mind, -equally disdainful of vulgar criticism.</p> - -<p>Michael Angelo’s strength thus qualified, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_255" id="page_255"></a>{255}</span> made more palatable to -the general taste, reminds me of an observation which I heard a learned -critic<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> make, when it was incidentally remarked that our translation -of Homer, however excellent, did not convey the character, nor had the -grand air of the original. He replied that if Pope had not clothed the -naked majesty of Homer with the graces and elegances of modern -fashions—though the real dignity of Homer was degraded by such a -dress—his translation would not have met with such a favourable -reception, and he must have been contented with fewer readers.</p> - -<p>Many of the Flemish painters, who studied at Rome in that great era of -our art, such as Francis Floris, Hemskerk, Michael Coxis, Jerom Cock, -and others, returned to their own country with as much of this grandeur -as they could carry. But, like seeds falling on a soil not prepared or -adapted to their nature, the manner of Michael Angelo thrived but little -with them; perhaps, however, they contributed to prepare the way for -that free, unconstrained, and liberal outline, which was afterwards -introduced by Rubens, through the medium of the Venetian painters.</p> - -<p>This grandeur of style has been in different degrees disseminated over -all Europe. Some caught it by living at the time, and coming into -contact with the original author, whilst others received it at second -hand; and being everywhere adopted, it has totally changed the whole -taste and style of design, if there could be said to be any style before -his time. Our art, in consequence, now assumes a rank to which it could -never have dared to aspire, if Michael Angelo had not discovered to the -world the hidden powers which it possessed. Without his assistance we -never could have been convinced that painting was capable of producing -an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_256" id="page_256"></a>{256}</span> adequate representation of the persons and actions of the heroes of -the Iliad.</p> - -<p>I would ask any man qualified to judge of such works, whether he can -look with indifference at the personification of the Supreme Being in -the centre of the Capella Sestina, or the figures of the Sibyls which -surround that chapel, to which we may add the statue of Moses; and -whether the same sensations are not excited by those works, as what he -may remember to have felt from the most sublime passages of Homer? I -mention those figures more particularly, as they come nearer to a -comparison with his Jupiter, his demi-gods, and heroes; those Sibyls and -prophets being a kind of intermediate beings between men and angels. -Though instances may be produced in the works of other painters, which -may justly stand in competition with those I have mentioned, such as the -Isaiah and the vision of Ezekiel, by Raffaelle, the St. Mark of Frate -Bartolommeo, and many others; yet these, it must be allowed, are -inventions so much in Michael Angelo’s manner of thinking, that they may -be truly considered as so many rays, which discover manifestly the -centre from whence they emanated.</p> - -<p>The sublime in painting, as in poetry, so overpowers, and takes such a -possession of the whole mind, that no room is left for attention to -minute criticism. The little elegances of art, in the presence of these -great ideas thus greatly expressed, lose all their value, and are, for -the instant at least, felt to be unworthy of our notice. The correct -judgment, the purity of taste, which characterise Raffaelle, the -exquisite grace of Correggio and Parmeggiano, all disappear before them.</p> - -<p>That Michael Angelo was capricious in his inventions cannot be denied; -and this may make some circumspection necessary in studying his works; -for though they appear to become him, an imitation of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_257" id="page_257"></a>{257}</span> them is always -dangerous, and will prove sometimes ridiculous. “Within that circle none -durst walk but he.” To me, I confess, his caprice does not lower the -estimation of his genius, even though it is sometimes, I acknowledge, -carried to the extreme: and however those eccentric excursions are -considered, we must at the same time recollect, that those faults, if -they are faults, are such as never could occur to a mean and vulgar -mind: that they flowed from the same source which produced his greatest -beauties, and were therefore such as none but himself was capable of -committing: they were the powerful impulses of a mind unused to -subjection of any kind, and too high to be controlled by cold criticism.</p> - -<p>Many see his daring extravagance who can see nothing else. A young -artist finds the works of Michael Angelo so totally different from those -of his own master, or of those with whom he is surrounded, that he may -be easily persuaded to abandon and neglect studying a style which -appears to him wild, mysterious, and above his comprehension, and which -he therefore feels no disposition to admire; a good disposition, which -he concludes that he should naturally have, if the style deserved it. It -is necessary therefore that students should be prepared for the -disappointment which they may experience at their first setting out; and -they must be cautioned, that probably they will not, at first sight, -approve.</p> - -<p>It must be remembered that this great style itself is artificial in the -highest degree; it presupposes in the spectator a cultivated and -prepared artificial state of mind. It is an absurdity therefore to -suppose that we are born with this taste, though we are with the seeds -of it, which, by the heat and kindly influence of his genius, may be -ripened in us.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_258" id="page_258"></a>{258}</span></p> - -<p>A late philosopher and critic<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> has observed, speaking of taste, that -<i>we are on no account to expect that fine things should descend to -us</i>—our taste, if possible, must be made to ascend to them. The same -learned writer recommends to us <i>even to feign a relish, till we find a -relish come; and feel, that what began in fiction, terminates in -reality</i>. If there be in our art anything of that agreement or compact, -such as I apprehend there is in music, with which the critic is -necessarily required previously to be acquainted, in order to form a -correct judgment: the comparison with this art will illustrate what I -have said on these points, and tend to show the probability, we may say -the certainty, that men are not born with a relish for those arts in -their most refined state, which as they cannot understand, they cannot -be impressed with their effects. This great style of Michael Angelo is -as far removed from the simple representation of the common objects of -nature, as the most refined Italian music is from the inartificial notes -of nature, from whence they both profess to originate. But without such -a supposed compact, we may be very confident that the highest state of -refinement in either of those arts will not be relished without a long -and industrious attention.</p> - -<p>In pursuing this great art, it must be acknowledged that we labour under -greater difficulties than those who were born in the age of its -discovery, and whose minds from their infancy were habituated to this -style; who learned it as language, as their mother tongue. They had no -mean taste to unlearn; they needed no persuasive discourse to allure -them to a favourable reception of it, no abstruse investigation of its -principles to convince them of the great latent truths on which it is -founded. We are constrained, in these latter days, to have recourse to a -sort of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_259" id="page_259"></a>{259}</span> grammar and dictionary, as the only means of recovering a dead -language. It was by them learned by rote, and perhaps better learned -that way than by precept.</p> - -<p>The style of Michael Angelo, which I have compared to language, and -which may, poetically speaking, be called the language of the gods, now -no longer exists, as it did in the fifteenth century; yet, with the aid -of diligence, we may in a great measure supply the deficiency which I -mentioned—of not having his works so perpetually before our eyes—by -having recourse to casts from his models and designs in sculpture; to -drawings or even copies of those drawings; to prints, which, however ill -executed, still convey something by which this taste may be formed, and -a relish may be fixed and established in our minds for this grand style -of invention. Some examples of this kind we have in the Academy; and I -sincerely wish there were more, that the younger students might in their -first nourishment imbibe this taste; whilst others, though settled in -the practice of the commonplace style of painters, might infuse, by this -means, a grandeur into their works.</p> - -<p>I shall now make some remarks on the course which I think most proper to -be pursued in such a study. I wish you not to go so much to the -derivative streams, as to the fountain-head; though the copies are not -to be neglected; because they may give you hints in what manner you may -copy, and how the genius of one man may be made to fit the peculiar -manner of another.</p> - -<p>To recover this lost taste, I would recommend young artists to study the -works of Michael Angelo, as he himself did the works of the ancient -sculptors; he began, when a child, a copy of a mutilated Satyr’s head, -and finished in his model what was wanting in the original. In the same -manner, the first exercise<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_260" id="page_260"></a>{260}</span> that I would recommend to the young artist -when he first attempts invention is to select every figure, if possible, -from the inventions of Michael Angelo. If such borrowed figures will not -bend to his purpose, and he is constrained to make a change to supply a -figure himself, that figure will necessarily be in the same style with -the rest; and his taste will by this means be naturally initiated, and -nursed in the lap of grandeur. He will sooner perceive what constitutes -this grand style by one practical trial than by a thousand speculations, -and he will in some sort procure to himself that advantage which in -these later ages has been denied him, the advantage of having the -greatest of artists for his master and instructor.</p> - -<p>The next lesson should be, to change the purpose of the figures without -changing the attitude, as Tintoret has done with the Samson of Michael -Angelo. Instead of the figure which Samson bestrides, he has placed an -eagle under him; and instead of the jaw-bone, thunder and lightning in -his right hand; and thus it becomes a Jupiter. Titian, in the same -manner, has taken the figure which represents God dividing the light -from the darkness in the vault of the Capella Sestina, and has -introduced it in the famous Battle of Cadore, so much celebrated by -Vasari; and, extraordinary as it may seem, it is here converted to a -general falling from his horse. A real judge who should look at this -picture would immediately pronounce the attitude of that figure to be in -a greater style than any other figure of the composition. These two -instances may be sufficient, though many more might be given in their -works, as well as in those of other great artists.</p> - -<p>When the student has been habituated to this grand conception of the -art, when the relish for this style is established, makes a part of -himself, and is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_261" id="page_261"></a>{261}</span> woven into his mind, he will, by this time, have got a -power of selecting from whatever occurs in nature that is grand, and -corresponds with that taste which he has now acquired; and will pass -over whatever is commonplace and insipid. He may then bring to the mart -such works of his own proper invention as may enrich and increase the -general stock of invention in our art.</p> - -<p>I am confident of the truth and propriety of the advice which I have -recommended; at the same time I am aware, how much by this advice I have -laid myself open to the sarcasms of those critics who imagine our art to -be a matter of inspiration. But I should be sorry it should appear even -to myself that I wanted that courage which I have recommended to the -students in another way: equal courage perhaps is required in the -adviser and the advised; they both must equally dare and bid defiance to -narrow criticism and vulgar opinion.</p> - -<p>That the art has been in a gradual state of decline, from the age of -Michael Angelo to the present, must be acknowledged; and we may -reasonably impute this declension to the same cause to which the ancient -critics and philosophers have imputed the corruption of eloquence. -Indeed the same causes are likely at all times and in all ages to -produce the same effects: indolence,—not taking the same pains as our -great predecessors took,—desiring to find a shorter way,—are the -general imputed causes. The words of Petronius<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> are very remarkable. -After opposing the natural chaste beauty of the eloquence of former ages -to the strained inflated style then in fashion, “Neither,” says he, “has -the art in painting had a better fate, after the boldness of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_262" id="page_262"></a>{262}</span> -Egyptians had found out a compendious way to execute so great an art.”</p> - -<p>By <i>compendious</i>, I understand him to mean a mode of painting, such as -has infected the style of the later painters of Italy and France; -commonplace, without thought, and with as little trouble, working as by -a receipt; in contradistinction to that style for which even a relish -cannot be acquired without care and long attention, and most certainly -the power of executing cannot be obtained without the most laborious -application.</p> - -<p>I have endeavoured to stimulate the ambition of artists to tread in this -great path of glory, and, as well as I can, have pointed out the track -which leads to it, and have at the same time told them the price at -which it may be obtained. It is an ancient saying that labour is the -price which the gods have set upon everything valuable.</p> - -<p>The great artist who has been so much the subject of the present -discourse was distinguished even from his infancy for his indefatigable -diligence; and this was continued through his whole life, till prevented -by extreme old age. The poorest of men, as he observed himself, did not -labour from necessity, more than he did from choice. Indeed, from all -the circumstances related of his life, he appears not to have had the -least conception that his art was to be acquired by any other means than -great labour; and yet he, of all men that ever lived, might make the -greatest pretensions to the efficacy of native genius and inspiration. I -have no doubt that he would have thought it no disgrace, that it should -be said of him, as he himself said of Raffaelle, that he did not possess -his art from nature, but by long study.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> He was conscious that the -great excellence to which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_263" id="page_263"></a>{263}</span> arrived was gained by dint of labour, and -was unwilling to have it thought that any transcendent skill, however -natural its effects might seem, could be purchased at a cheaper price -than he had paid for it. This seems to have been the true drift of his -observation. We cannot suppose it made with any intention of -depreciating the genius of Raffaelle, of whom he always spoke, as -Condivi says, with the greatest respect: though they were rivals, no -such illiberality existed between them; and Raffaelle on his part -entertained the greatest veneration for Michael Angelo, as appears from -the speech which is recorded of him, that he congratulated himself, and -thanked God, that he was born in the same age with that painter.</p> - -<p>If the high esteem and veneration, in which Michael Angelo has been held -by all nations and in all ages, should be put to the account of -prejudice, it must still be granted that those prejudices could not have -been entertained without a cause: the ground of our prejudice then -becomes the source of our admiration. But from whatever it proceeds, or -whatever it is called, it will not, I hope, be thought presumptuous in -me to appear in the train, I cannot say of his imitators, but of his -admirers. I have taken another course, one more suited to my abilities, -and to the taste of the times in which I live. Yet however unequal I -feel myself to that attempt, were I now to begin the world again, I -would tread in the steps of that great master: to kiss the hem of his -garment, to catch the slightest of his perfections, would be glory and -distinction enough for an ambitious man.</p> - -<p>I feel a self-congratulation in knowing myself capable of such -sensations as he intended to excite. I reflect, not without vanity, that -these discourses bear testimony of my admiration of that truly divine<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_264" id="page_264"></a>{264}</span> -man; and I should desire that the last words which I should pronounce in -this Academy, and from this place, might be the name of—Michael -Angelo.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></p> - -<p class="c"> <br /> -THE END OF THE DISCOURSES.<br /> -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,<br /> -bungay, suffolk.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_265" id="page_265"></a>{265}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox1"> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="c"><big><big><big>EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY</big></big></big></p> - -<p class="c">Edited by ERNEST RHYS</p> - -<p class="c"><big>LIST OF THE FIRST 806 VOLUMES<br /> ARRANGED UNDER AUTHORS</big></p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Per Volume: Cloth, 2s. Net</i><br /> -<i>Library Binding, 3s. Net. Paste Grain Leather, 3s. 6d. Net</i><br /> - -<b><span class="undr">REFERENCE SECTION</span></b><br /> - -<i>Cloth, 2s. 6d. Net. Library Binding, 3s. 6d. Net</i><br /> -<i>Average Postage per Volume, 4d.</i><br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td> -Abbott’s Rollo at Work, etc., 275<br /> - -Addison’s Spectator, 164-167<br /> - -Æschylus’ Lyrical Dramas, 62<br /> - -Æsop’s and Other Fables, 657<br /> - -Aimard’s The Indian Scout, 428<br /> - -Ainsworth’s Tower of London, 400<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Old St. Paul’s, 522<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Windsor Castle, 709<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Admirable Crichton, 804<br /> - -A’Kempis’ Imitation of Christ, 484<br /> - -Alcott’s Little Women, and Good Wives, 248<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Little Men, 512<br /> - -Alpine Club. Peaks, Passes and Glaciers, 778<br /> - -Andersen’s Fairy Tales, 4<br /> - -Anglo-Saxon Poetry, 794<br /> - -Anson’s Voyages, 510<br /> - -Aristophanes’ The Acharnians, etc., 344<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Frogs, etc., 516<br /> - -Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, 547<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Politics, 605<br /> - -Arnold’s (Matthew) Essays, 115<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Poems, 334<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Study of Celtic Literature, etc., 458<br /> - -Augustine’s (Saint) Confessions, 200<br /> - -Aurelius’ (Marcus) Golden Book, 9<br /> - -Austen’s (Jane) Sense and Sensibility, 21<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Pride and Prejudice, 22<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Mansfield Park, 23<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Emma, 24<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Northanger Abbey, and Persuasion, 25<br /> - -<br /> -Bacon’s Essays, 10<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Advancement of Learning, 719<br /> - -Bagehot’s Literary Studies, 520, 521<br /> - -Baker’s (Sir S. W.) Cast up by the Sea, 539<br /> - -Ballantyne’s Coral Island, 245<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Martin Rattler, 246<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Ungava, 276<br /> - -Balzac’s Wild Ass’s Skin, 26<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Eugénie Grandet, 169<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Old Goriot, 170<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Atheist’s Mass, etc., 229<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Christ in Flanders, etc., 284<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Chouans, 285<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Quest of the Absolute, 286<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Cat and Racket, etc., 349<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Catherine de Medici, 419<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Cousin Pons, 463<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Country Doctor, 530<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Rise and Fall of César Birotteau, 596<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Lost Illusions, 656<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Country Parson, 686<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Ursule Mirouët, 733<br /> - -Barbusse’s Under Fire, 798<br /> - -Barca’s (Mme. C. de la) Life in Mexico, 664<br /> - -Bates’ Naturalist on the Amazons, 446<br /> - -Beaumont and Fletcher’s Select Plays, 506<br /> - -Beaumont’s (Mary) Joan Seaton, 597<br /> - -Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, etc., 479<br /> - -Belt’s The Naturalist in Nicaragua, 561<br /> - -Berkeley’s (Bishop) Principles of Human Knowledge, New Theory of Vision, etc., 483<br /> - -Berlioz (Hector), Life of, 602<br /> - -Binns’ Life of Abraham Lincoln, 783<br /> - -Björnson’s Plays, 625, 696<br /> - -Blackmore’s Lorna Doone, 304<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Springhaven, 350<br /> - -Blackwell’s Pioneer Work for Women, 667<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_266" id="page_266"></a>{266}</span><br /> - -Blake’s Poems and Prophecies, 792<br /> - -Boehme’s The Signature of All Things, etc., 569<br /> - -Bonaventura’s The Little Flowers, The Life of St. Francis, etc., 485<br /> - -Borrow’s Wild Wales, 49<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Lavengro, 119<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Romany Rye, 120<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Bible in Spain, 151<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Gypsies in Spain, 697<br /> - -Boswell’s Life of Johnson, 1, 2<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Tour in the Hebrides, etc., 387<br /> - -Boult’s Asgard and Norse Heroes, 689<br /> - -Boyle’s The Sceptical Chymist, 559<br /> - -Bright’s (John) Speeches, 252<br /> - -Brontë’s (A.) The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, 685<br /> - -Brontë’s (C.) Jane Eyre, 287<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Shirley, 288<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Villette, 351<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Professor, 417<br /> - -Brontë’s (E.) Wuthering Heights, 243<br /> - -Brooke’s (Stopford A.) Theology in the English Poets, 493<br /> - -Brown’s (Dr. John) Rab and His Friends, etc., 116<br /> - -Browne’s (Frances) Grannie’s Wonderful Chair, 112<br /> - -Browne’s (Sir Thos.) Religio Medici, etc., 92<br /> - -Browning’s Poems, 1833-1844, 41<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> “ 1844-1864, 42<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Ring and the Book, 502<br /> - -Buchanan’s Life and Adventures of Audubon, 601<br /> - -Bulfinch’s The Age of Fable, 472<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Legends of Charlemagne, 556<br /> - -Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, 204<br /> - -Burke’s American Speeches and Letters, 340<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Reflections on the French Revolution, etc., 460<br /> - -Burnet’s History of His Own Times, 85<br /> - -Burney’s Evelina, 352<br /> - -Burns’ Poems and Songs, 94<br /> - -Burrell’s Volume of Heroic Verse, 574<br /> - -Burton’s East Africa, 500<br /> - -Butler’s Analogy of Religion, 90<br /> - -Buxton’s Memoirs, 773<br /> - -Byron’s Complete Poetical and Dramatic Works, 486-488<br /> - -<br /> -Cæsar’s Gallic War, etc., 702<br /> - -Canton’s Child’s Book of Saints, 61<br /> - -Canton’s Invisible Playmate, etc., 566<br /> - -Carlyle’s French Revolution, 31, 32<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Letters, etc., of Cromwell, 266-268<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Sartor Resartus, 278<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Past and Present, 608<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Essays, 703, 704<br /> - -Cellini’s Autobiography, 51<br /> - -Cervantes’ Don Quixote, 385, 386<br /> - -Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, 307<br /> - -Chrétien de Troyes’ Eric and Enid, 698<br /> - -Cibber’s Apology for his Life, 668<br /> - -Cicero’s Select Letters and Orations, 345<br /> - -Clarke’s Tales from Chaucer, 537<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Shakespeare’s Heroines, 109-111<br /> - -Cobbett’s Rural Rides, 638, 639<br /> - -Coleridge’s Biographia, 11<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Golden Book, 43<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Lectures on Shakespeare, 162<br /> - -Collins’ Woman in White, 464<br /> - -Collodi’s Pinocchio, 538<br /> - -Converse’s Long Will, 328<br /> - -Cook’s Voyages, 99<br /> - -Cooper’s The Deerslayer, 77<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Pathfinder, 78<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Last of the Mohicans, 79<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Pioneer, 171<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Prairie, 172<br /> - -Cousin’s Biographical Dictionary of English Literature, 449<br /> - -Cowper’s Letters, 774<br /> - -Cox’s Tales of Ancient Greece, 721<br /> - -Craik’s Manual of English Literature, 346<br /> - -Craik (Mrs.). <i>See</i> Mulock.<br /> - -Creasy’s Fifteen Decisive Battles, 300<br /> - -Crèvecœur’s Letters from an American Farmer, 640<br /> - -Curtis’s Prue and I, and Lotus, 418<br /> - -<br /> -Dana’s Two Years Before the Mast, 588<br /> - -Dante’s Divine Comedy, 308<br /> - -Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle, 104<br /> - -Dasent’s The Story of Burnt Njal, 558<br /> - -Daudet’s Tartarin of Tarascon, 423<br /> - -Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, 59<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Captain Singleton, 74<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Memoirs of a Cavalier, 283<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Journal of Plague, 289<br /> - -De Joinville’s Memoirs of the Crusades, 333<br /> - -Demosthenes’ Select Orations, 546<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_267" id="page_267"></a>{267}</span><br /> - -Dennis’ Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, 183, 184<br /> - -De Quincey’s Lake Poets, 163<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Opium-Eater, 223<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>English Mail Coach, etc., 609<br /> - -De Retz (Cardinal), Memoirs of, 735, 736<br /> - -Descartes’ Discourse on Method, 570<br /> - -Dickens’ Barnaby Rudge, 76<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Tale of Two Cities, 102<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Old Curiosity Shop, 173<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Oliver Twist, 233<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Great Expectations, 234<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Pickwick Papers, 235<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Bleak House, 236<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Sketches by Boz, 237<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Nicholas Nickleby, 238<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Christmas Books, 239<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Dombey & Son, 240<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Martin Chuzzlewit, 241<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>David Copperfield, 242<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>American Notes, 290<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Child’s History of England, 291<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Hard Times, 292<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Little Dorrit, 293<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Our Mutual Friend, 294<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Christmas Stories, 414<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Uncommercial Traveller, 536<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Edwin Drood, 725<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Reprinted Pieces, 744<br /> - -Disraeli’s Coningsby, 535<br /> - -Dixon’s Fairy Tales from Arabian Nights, 249<br /> - -Dodge’s Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates, 620<br /> - -Dostoieffsky’s Crime and Punishment, 501<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The House of the Dead, or Prison Life in Siberia, 533<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Letters from the Underworld, etc., 654<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Idiot, 682<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Poor Folk, and The Gambler, 711<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Brothers Karamazov, 802, 803<br /> - -Dowden’s Life of R. Browning, 701<br /> - -Dryden’s Dramatic Essays, 568<br /> - -Dufferin’s Letters from High Latitudes, 499<br /> - -Dumas’ The Three Musketeers, 81<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Black Tulip, 174<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Twenty Years After, 175<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Marguerite de Valois, 326<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Count of Monte Cristo, 393, 394<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Forty-Five, 420<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Chicot the Jester, 421<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Vicomte de Bragelonne, 593-595<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Le Chevalier de Maison Rouge, 614<br /> - -Duruy’s History of France, 737, 738<br /> - -<br /> -Edgar’s Cressy and Poictiers, 17<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Runnymede and Lincoln Fair, 320<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Heroes of England, 471<br /> - -Edgeworth’s Castle Rackrent, etc., 410<br /> - -Edwardes’ Dictionary of Non-Classical Mythology, 632<br /> - -Eliot’s Adam Bede, 27<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Silas Marner, 121<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Romola, 231<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Mill on the Floss, 325<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Felix Holt, 353<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Scenes of Clerical Life, 468<br /> - -Elyot’s Gouernour, 227<br /> - -Emerson’s Essays, 12<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Representative Men, 279<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Nature, Conduct of Life, etc., 322<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Society and Solitude, etc., 567<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Poems, 715<br /> - -Epictetus’ Moral Discourses, etc., 404<br /> - -Erckmann-Chatrian’s The Conscript and Waterloo, 354<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Story of a Peasant, 706, 707<br /> - -Euripides’ Plays, 63, 271<br /> - -Evelyn’s Diary, 220, 221<br /> - -Ewing’s (Mrs.) Mrs. Overtheway’s Remembrances, and other Stories, 730<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Jackanapes, Daddy Darwin’s Dovecot, and The Story of a Short Life, 731<br /> - -Faraday’s Experimental Researches in Electricity, 576<br /> - -Fielding’s Tom Jones, 355, 356<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Joseph Andrews, 467<br /> - -Finlay’s Byzantine Empire, 33<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Greece under the Romans, 185<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_268" id="page_268"></a>{268}</span><br /> - -Fletcher’s (Beaumont and) Select Plays, 506<br /> - -Ford’s Gatherings from Spain, 152<br /> - -Forster’s Life of Dickens, 781, 782<br /> - -Fox’s Journal, 754<br /> - -Fox’s Selected Speeches, 759<br /> - -Franklin’s Journey to Polar Sea, 447<br /> - -Freeman’s Old English History for Children, 540<br /> - -Froissart’s Chronicles, 57<br /> - -Froude’s Short Studies, 13, 705<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Henry VIII., 372-374<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Edward VI., 375<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Mary Tudor, 477<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>History of Queen Elizabeth’s Reign, 583-587<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Life of Benjamin Disraeli, Lord Beaconsfield, 666<br /> - -<br /> -Galt’s Annals of the Parish, 427<br /> - -Galton’s Inquiries into Human Faculty, 263<br /> - -Gaskell’s Cranford, 83<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Charlotte Brontë, 318<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Sylvia’s Lovers, 524<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Mary Barton, 598<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Cousin Phillis, etc., 615<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> North and South, 680<br /> - -Gatty’s Parables from Nature, 158<br /> - -Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Histories of the Kings of Britain, 577<br /> - -George’s Progress and Poverty, 560<br /> - -Gibbon’s Roman Empire, 434-436, 474-476<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Autobiography, 511<br /> - -Gilfillan’s Literary Portraits, 348<br /> - -Giraldus Cambrensis, 272<br /> - -Gleig’s Life of Wellington, 341<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Subaltern, 708<br /> - -Goethe’s Faust (Parts I. and II.), 335<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Wilhelm Meister, 599, 600<br /> - -Gogol’s Dead Souls, 726<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Taras Bulba, 740<br /> - -Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield, 295<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Poems and Plays, 415<br /> - -Gorki’s Through Russia, 741<br /> - -Gosse’s Restoration Plays, 604<br /> - -Gotthelf’s Ulric the Farm Servant, 228<br /> - -Gray’s Poems and Letters, 628<br /> - -Green’s Short History of the English People, 727, 728<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The cloth edition is in 2 vols. or 1 vol.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All other editions are in 1 vol.</span><br /> - -Grimms’ Fairy Tales, 56<br /> - -Grote’s History of Greece, 186-197<br /> - -Guest’s (Lady) Mabinogion, 97<br /> - -<br /> -Hahnemann’s The Organon of the Rational Art of Healing, 663<br /> - -Hakluyt’s Voyages, 264, 265, 313, 314, 338, 339, 388, 389<br /> - -Hallam’s Constitutional History, 621-623<br /> - -Hamilton’s The Federalist, 519<br /> - -Harte’s Luck of Roaring Camp, 681<br /> - -Harvey’s Circulation of Blood, 262<br /> - -Hawthorne’s Wonder Book, 5<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Scarlet Letter, 122<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>House of Seven Gables, 176<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Marble Faun, 424<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Twice Told Tales, 531<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Blithedale Romance, 592<br /> - -Hazlitt’s Shakespeare’s Characters, 65<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Table Talk, 321<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Lectures, 411<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Spirit of the Age and Lectures on English Poets, 459<br /> - -Hebbel’s Plays, 694<br /> - -Helps’ (Sir Arthur) Life of Columbus, 332<br /> - -Herbert’s Temple, 309<br /> - -Herodotus (Rawlinson’s), 405, 406<br /> - -Herrick’s Hesperides, 310<br /> - -Hobbes’ Leviathan, 691<br /> - -Holinshed’s Chronicle, 800<br /> - -Holmes’ Life of Mozart, 564<br /> - -Holmes’ (O. W.) Autocrat, 66<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Professor, 67<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Poet, 68<br /> - -Homer’s Iliad, 453<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Odyssey, 454<br /> - -Hooker’s Ecclesiastical Polity, 201, 202<br /> - -Horace’s Complete Poetical Works, 515<br /> - -Houghton’s Life and Letters of Keats, 801<br /> - -Hughes’ Tom Brown’s Schooldays, 58<br /> - -Hugo’s (Victor) Les Misérables, 363, 364<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Notre Dame, 422<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Toilers of the Sea, 509<br /> - -Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature, etc., 548, 549<br /> - -Hutchinson’s (Col.) Memoirs, 317<br /> - -Hutchinson’s (W. M. L.) Muses’ Pageant, 581, 606, 671<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_269" id="page_269"></a>{269}</span><br /> - -Huxley’s Man’s Place in Nature, 47<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Select Lectures and Lay Sermons, 498<br /> - -<br /> -Ibsen’s The Doll’s House, etc., 494<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Ghosts, etc., 552<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Pretenders, Pillars of Society, etc., 659<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Brand, 716<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Lady Inger, etc., 729<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Peer Gynt, 747<br /> - -Ingelow’s Mopsa the Fairy, 619<br /> - -Ingram’s Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 624<br /> - -Irving’s Sketch Book, 117<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Conquest of Granada, 478<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Life of Mahomet, 513<br /> - -<br /> -James’ (G. P. R.) Richelieu, 357<br /> - -James (Wm.), Selections from, 739<br /> - -Johnson’s (Dr.) Lives of the Poets, 770-771<br /> - -Johnson’s (R. B.) Book of English Ballads, 572<br /> - -Jonson’s (Ben) Plays, 489, 490<br /> - -Josephus’ Wars of the Jews, 712<br /> - -<br /> -Kalidasa’s Shakuntala, 629<br /> - -Keats’ Poems, 101<br /> - -Keble’s Christian Year, 690<br /> - -King’s Life of Mazzini, 562<br /> - -Kinglake’s Eothen, 337<br /> - -Kingsley’s (Chas.) Westward Ho! 20<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Heroes, 113<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Hypatia, 230<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Water Babies and Glaucus, 277<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Hereward the Wake, 296<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Alton Locke, 462<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Yeast, 611<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Madam How and Lady Why, 777<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Poems, 793<br /> - -Kingsley’s (Henry) Ravenshoe, 28<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Geoffrey Hamlyn, 416<br /> - -Kingston’s Peter the Whaler, 6<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Three Midshipmen, 7<br /> - -<br /> -Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare, 8<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Essays of Elia, 14<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Letters, 342, 343<br /> - -Lane’s Modern Egyptians, 315<br /> - -Langland’s Piers Plowman, 571<br /> - -Latimer’s Sermons, 40<br /> - -Law’s Serious Call, 91<br /> - -Layamon’s (Wace and) Arthurian Chronicles, 578<br /> - -Lear (and others), A Book of Nonsense, 806<br /> - -Le Sage’s Gil Blas, 437, 438<br /> - -Leslie’s Memoirs of John Constable, 563<br /> - -Lever’s Harry Lorrequer, 177<br /> - -Lewes’ Life of Goethe, 269<br /> - -Lincoln’s Speeches, etc., 206<br /> - -Livy’s History of Rome, 603, 669, 670, 749, 755, 756<br /> - -Locke’s Civil Government, 751<br /> - -Lockhart’s Life of Napoleon, 3<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Life of Scott, 55<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Burns, 156<br /> - -Longfellow’s Poems, 382<br /> - -Lönnrott’s Kalevala, 259, 260<br /> - -Lover’s Handy Andy, 178<br /> - -Lowell’s Among My Books, 607<br /> - -Lucretius: Of the Nature of Things, 750<br /> - -Lützow’s History of Bohemia, 432<br /> - -Lyell’s Antiquity of Man, 700<br /> - -Lytton’s Harold, 15<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Last of the Barons, 18<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Last Days of Pompeii, 80<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Pilgrims of the Rhine, 390<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Rienzi, 532<br /> - -<br /> -Macaulay’s England, 34-36<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Essays, 225, 226<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Speeches on Politics, etc., 399<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Miscellaneous Essays, 439<br /> - -MacDonald’s Sir Gibbie, 678<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Phantastes, 732<br /> - -Machiavelli’s Prince, 280<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Florence, 376<br /> - -Maine’s Ancient Law, 734<br /> - -Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur, 45, 46<br /> - -Malthus on the Principles of Population, 692, 693<br /> - -Manning’s Sir Thomas More, 19<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Mary Powell, and Deborah’s Diary, 324<br /> - -Marcus Aurelius’ Golden Book, 9<br /> - -Marlowe’s Plays and Poems, 383<br /> - -Marryat’s Mr. Midshipman Easy, 82<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Little Savage, 159<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Masterman Ready, 160<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Peter Simple, 232<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Children of New Forest, 247<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Percival Keene, 358<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Settlers in Canada, 370<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> King’s Own, 580<br /> - -Marryat’s Jacob Faithful, 618<br /> - -Martineau’s Feats on the Fjords, 429<br /> - -Martinengo-Cesaresco’s Folk-Lore and Other Essays, 673<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_270" id="page_270"></a>{270}</span><br /> - -Maurice’s Kingdom of Christ, 146, 147<br /> - -Mazzini’s Duties of Man, etc., 224<br /> - -Melville’s Moby Dick, 178<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Typee, 180<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Omoo, 297<br /> - -Merivale’s History of Rome, 433<br /> - -Mignet’s French Revolution, 713<br /> - -Mill’s Utilitarianism, Liberty, Representative Government, 482<br /> - -Miller’s Old Red Sandstone, 103<br /> - -Milman’s History of the Jews, 377, 378<br /> - -Milton’s Areopagitica and other Prose Works, 795<br /> - -Milton’s Poems, 384<br /> - -Mommsen’s History of Rome, 542-545<br /> - -Montagu’s (Lady) Letters, 69<br /> - -Montaigne, Florio’s, 440-442<br /> - -More’s Utopia, and Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation, 461<br /> - -Morier’s Hajji Baba, 679<br /> - -Morris’ (Wm.) Early Romances, 261<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Life and Death of Jason, 575<br /> - -Motley’s Dutch Republic, 86-88<br /> - -Mulock’s John Halifax, 123<br /> - -<br /> -Neale’s Fall of Constantinople, 655<br /> - -Newcastle’s (Margaret, Duchess of) Life of the First Duke of Newcastle, etc., 722<br /> - -Newman’s Apologia Pro Vita Sua, 636<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> On the Scope and Nature of University Education,<br /> and a Paper on Christianity and Scientific Investigation, 723<br /> - -<br /> -Oliphant’s Salem Chapel, 244<br /> - -Osborne (Dorothy), Letters of, 674<br /> - -Owen’s A New View of Society, etc., 799<br /> - -<br /> -Paine’s Rights of Man, 718<br /> - -Palgrave’s Golden Treasury, 96<br /> - -Paltock’s Peter Wilkins, 676<br /> - -Park (Mungo), Travels of, 205<br /> - -Parkman’s Conspiracy of Pontiac, 302, 303<br /> - -Parry’s Letters of Dorothy Osborne, 674<br /> - -Paston’s Letters, 752, 753<br /> - -Paton’s Two Morte D’Arthur Romances, 634<br /> - -Peacock’s Headlong Hall, 327<br /> - -Penn’s The Peace of Europe, Some Fruits of Solitude, etc., 724<br /> - -Pepys’ Diary, 53, 54<br /> - -Percy’s Reliques, 148, 149<br /> - -Pitt’s Orations, 145<br /> - -Plato’s Republic, 64<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Dialogues, 456, 457<br /> - -Plutarch’s Lives, 407-409<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Moralia, 565<br /> - -Poe’s Tales of Mystery and Imagination, 336<br /> - -Poe’s Poems and Essays, 791<br /> - -Polo’s (Marco) Travels, 306<br /> - -Pope’s Complete Poetical Works, 760<br /> - -Prelude to Poetry, 789<br /> - -Prescott’s Conquest of Peru, 301<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Conquest of Mexico, 397, 398<br /> - -Procter’s Legends and Lyrics, 150<br /> - -<br /> -Rawlinson’s Herodotus, 405, 406<br /> - -Reade’s The Cloister and the Hearth, 29<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Peg Woffington, 299<br /> - -Reid’s (Mayne) Boy Hunters of the Mississippi, 582<br /> - -Reid’s (Mayne) The Boy Slaves, 797<br /> - -Renan’s Life of Jesus, 805<br /> - -Reynolds’ Discourses, 118<br /> - -Rhys’ Fairy Gold, 157<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>New Golden Treasury, 695<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Anthology of British Historical Speeches and Orations, 714<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Political Liberty, 745<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Golden Treasury of Longer Poems, 746<br /> - -Ricardo’s Principles of Political Economy and Taxation, 590<br /> - -Richardson’s Pamela, 683, 684<br /> - -Roberts’ (Morley) Western Avernus, 762<br /> - -Robertson’s Religion and Life, 37<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Christian Doctrine, 38<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Bible Subjects, 39<br /> - -Robinson’s (Wade) Sermons, 637<br /> - -Roget’s Thesaurus, 630, 631<br /> - -Rossetti’s (D. G.) Poems, 627<br /> - -Rousseau’s Emile, on Education, 518<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Social Contract and Other Essays, 660<br /> - -Ruskin’s Seven Lamps of Architecture, 207<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Modern Painters, 208-212<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Stones of Venice, 213-215<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Unto this Last, etc., 216<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Elements of Drawing, etc., 217<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Pre-Raphaelitism, etc., 218<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Sesame and Lilies, 219<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_271" id="page_271"></a>{271}</span><br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Ethics of the Dust, 282<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Crown of Wild Olive, and Cestus of Aglaia, 323<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Time and Tide, with other Essays, 450<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Two Boyhoods, 688<br /> - -Russell’s Life of Gladstone, 661<br /> - -Russian Short Stories, 758<br /> - -<br /> -Sand’s (George) The Devil’s Pool, and François the Waif, 534<br /> - -Scheffel’s Ekkehard: A Tale of the 10th Century, 529<br /> - -Scott’s (M.) Tom Cringle’s Log, 710<br /> - -Scott’s (Sir W.) Ivanhoe, 16<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Fortunes of Nigel, 71<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Woodstock, 72<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Waverley, 75<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Abbot, 124<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Anne of Geierstein, 125<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Antiquary, 126<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Highland Widow, and Betrothed, 127<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Black Dwarf, Legend of Montrose, 128<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Bride of Lammermoor, 129<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Castle Dangerous, Surgeon’s Daughter, 130<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Robert of Paris, 131<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Fair Maid of Perth, 132<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Guy Mannering, 133<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Heart of Midlothian, 134<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Kenilworth, 135<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Monastery, 136<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Old Mortality, 137<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Peveril of the Peak, 138<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Pirate, 139<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Quentin Durward, 140<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Redgauntlet, 141<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Rob Roy, 142<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>St. Ronan’s Well, 143<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Talisman, 144<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Lives of the Novelists, 331<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Poems and Plays, 550, 551<br /> - -Seebohm’s Oxford Reformers, 665<br /> - -Seeley’s Ecce Homo, 305<br /> - -Sewell’s (Anna) Black Beauty, 748<br /> - -Shakespeare’s Comedies, 153<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Histories, etc., 154<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Tragedies, 155<br /> - -Shelley’s Poetical Works, 257, 258<br /> - -Shelley’s (Mrs.) Frankenstein, 616<br /> - -Sheppard’s Charles Auchester, 505<br /> - -Sheridan’s Plays, 95<br /> - -Sismondi’s Italian Republics, 250<br /> - -Smeaton’s Life of Shakespeare, 514<br /> - -Smith’s A Dictionary of Dates, 554<br /> - -Smith’s Wealth of Nations, 412, 413<br /> - -Smith’s (George) Life of Wm. Carey, 395<br /> - -Smith’s (Sir Wm.) Smaller Classical Dictionary, 495<br /> - -Smollett’s Roderick Random, 790<br /> - -Sophocles, Young’s, 114<br /> - -Southey’s Life of Nelson, 52<br /> - -Speke’s Source of the Nile, 50<br /> - -Spence’s Dictionary of Non-Classical Mythology, 632<br /> - -Spencer’s (Herbert) Essays on Education, 504<br /> - -Spenser’s Faerie Queene, 443, 444<br /> - -Spinoza’s Ethics, etc., 481<br /> - -Spyri’s Heidi, 431<br /> - -Stanley’s Memorials of Canterbury, 89<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Eastern Church, 251<br /> - -Steele’s The Spectator, 164-167<br /> - -Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, 617<br /> - -Sterne’s Sentimental Journey and Journal to Eliza, 796<br /> - -Stevenson’s Treasure Island and Kidnapped, 763<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Master of Ballantrae and the Black Arrow, 764<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Virginibus Puerisque and Familiar Studies of Men and Books, 765<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>An Inland Voyage, Travels with a Donkey, and Silverado Squatters, 766<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Merry Men, etc., 767<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Poems, 768<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>In the South Seas and Island Nights’ Entertainments, 769<br /> - -St. Francis, The Little Flowers of, etc., 485<br /> - -Stopford Brooke’s Theology in the English Poets, 493<br /> - -Stow’s Survey of London, 589<br /> - -Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, 371<br /> - -Strickland’s Queen Elizabeth, 100<br /> - -Swedenborg’s Heaven and Hell, 379<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Divine Love and Wisdom, 635<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Divine Providence, 658<br /> - -Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, 60<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Journal to Stella, 757<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Tale of a Tub, etc., 347<br /> - -<br /> -Tacitus’ Annals, 273<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Agricola and Germania, 274<br /> - -Taylor’s Words and Places, 517<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_272" id="page_272"></a>{272}</span><br /> - -Tennyson’s Poems, 44, 626<br /> - -Thackeray’s Esmond, 73<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Vanity Fair, 298<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Christmas Books, 359<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Pendennis, 425, 426<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Newcomes, 465, 466<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Virginians, 507, 508<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> English Humorists, and The Four Georges, 610<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Roundabout Papers, 687<br /> - -Thierry’s Norman Conquest, 198, 199<br /> - -Thoreau’s Walden, 281<br /> - -Thucydides’ Peloponnesian War, 455<br /> - -Tolstoy’s Master and Man, and Other Parables and Tales, 469<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> War and Peace, 525-527<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Childhood, Boyhood and Youth, 591<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Anna Karenina, 612, 613<br /> - -Trench’s On the Study of Words and English Past and Present, 788<br /> - -Trollope’s Barchester Towers, 30<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Framley Parsonage, 181<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Golden Lion of Granpere, 761<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>The Warden, 182<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Dr. Thorne, 360<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Small House at Allington, 361<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Last Chronicles of Barset, 391, 392<br /> - -Trotter’s The Bayard of India, 396<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Hodson, of Hodson’s Horse, 401<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Warren Hastings, 452<br /> - -Turgeniev’s Virgin Soil, 528<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Liza, 677<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Fathers and Sons, 742<br /> - -Tyndall’s Glaciers of the Alps, 98<br /> - -Tytler’s Principles of Translation, 168<br /> - -<br /> -Vasari’s Lives of the Painters, 784-7<br /> - -Verne’s (Jules) Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, 319<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Dropped from the Clouds, 367<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Abandoned, 368<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Secret of the Island, 369<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Five Weeks in a Balloon and Around the World in Eighty Days, 779<br /> - -Virgil’s Æneid, 161<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> Eclogues and Georgics, 222<br /> - -Voltaire’s Life of Charles XII., 270<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Age of Louis XIV., 780<br /> - -<br /> -Wace and Layamon’s Arthurian Chronicles, 578<br /> - -Walpole’s Letters, 775<br /> - -Walton’s Compleat Angler, 70<br /> - -Waterton’s Wanderings in South America, 772<br /> - -Wesley’s Journal, 105-108<br /> - -White’s Selborne, 48<br /> - -Whitman’s Leaves of Grass (I.) and Democratic Vistas, etc., 573<br /> - -Whyte-Melville’s Gladiators, 523<br /> - -Wood’s (Mrs. Henry) The Channings, 84<br /> - -Woolman’s Journal, etc., 402<br /> - -Wordsworth’s Shorter Poems, 203<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span>Longer Poems, 311<br /> - -Wright’s An Encyclopædia of Gardening, 555<br /> - -<br /> -Xenophon’s Cyropædia, 672<br /> - -<br /> -Yonge’s The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest, 329<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Book of Golden Deeds, 330<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Heir of Redclyffe, 362<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Little Duke, 470<br /> -<span class="ditto">”</span> The Lances of Lynwood, 579<br /> - -Young’s (Arthur) Travels in France and Italy, 720<br /> - -Young’s (Sir George) Sophocles, 114<br /> - -<br /> -The New Testament, 93.<br /> - -Ancient Hebrew Literature, 4 vols., 253-256.<br /> - -English Short Stories. An Anthology, 743.<br /> - -Everyman’s English Dictionary, 776<br /> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c"><span class="smcap">Note.</span>—The following numbers are at present out of print:<br /> - -110, 111, 118, 146, 324, 331, 348, 390, 505, 529, 581, 597, 641-52</p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">Published by</span> J. M. DENT & SONS LTD.<br /> -ALDINE HOUSE, BEDFORD STREET, LONDON, W.C.2<br /> -<br /><small> -PRINTED BY THE TEMPLE PRESS AT LETCHWORTH IN GREAT BRITAIN</small> -</p> - -<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Lib. 2. in Timæum Platonis, as cited by Junius de Pictura -Veterum. R.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Essays, p. 252, edit. 1625.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> “Those,” says Quintilian, “who are taken with the outward -show of things, think that there is more beauty in persons, who are -trimmed, curled, and painted, than uncorrupt nature can give; as if -beauty were merely the effect of the corruption of manners.” R.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Dicendo, che molto gli piaceva il colorito suo, e la -maniera; mà che era un peccato, che a Venezia non s’imparasse da -principio a disegnare bene, e che non havessano que’ pittori miglior -modo nello studio. Vas. tom. iii. p. 226. Vita di Tiziano.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Nelle cose della pittura, stravagante, capriccioso, presto, -e resoluto, et il più terrible cervello, che habbia havuto mai la -pittura, come si può vedere in tutte le sue opere; e ne’ componimenti -delle storie, fantastiche, e fatte da lui diversamente, e fuori dell’ -uso degli altri pittori: anzi hà superato la stravaganza, con le nuove, -e capricciose inventioni, e strani ghiribizzi del suo intelleto, che ha -lavorato a caso, e senza disegno, quasi monstrando che quest’ arte è una -baia.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Que cette application singulière n’était qu’un obstacle -pour empêcher de parvenir au véritable but de la peinture, et celui qui -s’attache au principal, acquiert par la pratique une assez belle manière -de peindre. Conférence de l’Acad. Franç.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> A more detailed character of Rubens may be found in the -“Journey to Flanders and Holland,” near the conclusion. M.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Sed non qui maxime imitandus, etiam solus imitandus -est.—<span class="smcap">Quintilian.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> In the Cabinet of the Earl of Ashburnham.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> In the Cabinet of Sir Peter Burrel.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Dr. Goldsmith.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Nulla ars, non alterius artis, aut mater, aut propinqua -est.—<span class="smcap">Tertull</span>, as cited by <span class="smcap">Junius</span>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Omnes artes quæ ad humanitatem pertinent, habent quoddam -commune vinculum, et quasi cognatione inter se continentur.—<span class="smcap">Cicero.</span></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the place whereon -thou standest is holy ground.—<span class="smcap">Exodus</span>, iii. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Discourses II. and VI.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> This was inadvertently said. I did not recollect the -admirable treatise “On the Sublime and Beautiful.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Sir William Chambers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> See “Il reposo di Raffaelle Borghini.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Some years after this Discourse was written, Bernini’s -“Neptune” was purchased for our author at Rome, and brought to England. -After his death it was sold by his Executors for £500 to Charles -Anderson Pelham, Esq., now Lord Yarborough. M.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Discourse III.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> In Ben Jonson’s “Catiline” we find this aphorism, with a -slight variation: -</p> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“A serpent, ere he comes to be a dragon,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Must eat a bat.” M.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> The addition of <i>accio</i> denotes some deformity or -imperfection attending that person to whom it is applied. R.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> -</p> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Towers and battlements it sees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bosom’d high in tufted trees.—<span class="smcap">Milton</span>, “L’Allegro.” R.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Mr. Hodges.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> This fine picture was in our author’s collection; and was -bequeathed by him to Sir George Beaumont, Bart. M.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Dr. Johnson.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> James Harris, Esq. R.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Pictura quoque non alium exitum fecit, postquam Ægyptiorum -audacia tam magnæ artis compendiariam invenit. R.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> <i>Che Raffaelle non ebbe quest’ arte da natura, ma per -longo studio.</i> R.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Unfortunately for mankind, these <i>were</i> the last words -pronounced by this great painter from the Academical chair. He died -about fourteen months after this Discourse was delivered. M.</p></div> - -</div> -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifteen Discourses, by -Sir Joshua Reynolds and L. 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